Confiding Games ((Open to Sam))
They were both fairly tired by the time they got back, Sam from pure exhaustion and Tom from medication, that they didn't really bother with formalities besides locking the door and finding, respectively, the bed and the lounge chair. Cain was gone, Tom presumed fixing things in his own time, but he barely had the time to be resentful before he was asleep.
The night didn't pass uneventfully, as about one a.m. Tom had another drug-induced night terror, and had shakingly crawled to the side of the bed looking for Cain - upon realizing it was Sam, he retreated, and he didn't think he woke her up, even dragging his cast around. The following sleep was deep, and drifted into almost noon. When he wakes up, he's managed to forget the events of the night and just seems puzzled that he's on the floor next to the chair instead of in it.
There's no greeting the day, because the very idea makes him think of sentimental garbage, so he just sits up and remembers that Sam's here.
The night didn't pass uneventfully, as about one a.m. Tom had another drug-induced night terror, and had shakingly crawled to the side of the bed looking for Cain - upon realizing it was Sam, he retreated, and he didn't think he woke her up, even dragging his cast around. The following sleep was deep, and drifted into almost noon. When he wakes up, he's managed to forget the events of the night and just seems puzzled that he's on the floor next to the chair instead of in it.
There's no greeting the day, because the very idea makes him think of sentimental garbage, so he just sits up and remembers that Sam's here.