Sparrow turned her head in the direction that the bed dipped.
"Baby?" she questioned.
"Yeah. Go back to sleep, sweetheart."
"Did you get him?"
"Yeah. Yeah, we got him."
The Native American woman pushed herself up onto her elbows.
"What time is it?"
"Just after two," was the weary reply.
"Come here, baby."
She pulled herself to her lover's body, comforting him and herself in the same movement. After a much needed moment of stillness, Sparrow began to work her fingers over the buttons on his clothes until he was left in only his boxers. The older man fell back into the bed. The Medicine Woman stayed sitting up, looking down at her lover and running her fingers through his salt and pepper hair.
"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked quietly.
He didn't respond, dark calculating eyes concentrated on the ceiling above them.
"Alright."
Sparrow lay back down. There was silence for a long time, but each knew the other was awake.
"I can still hear them screaming," he whispered.
"Oh, Dave," she cried quietly.
She pulled her smaller body to his and held him tight.