You're made of strength and mercy…
"Shhhh." He holds her tight, but her trembling doesn't subside. His breathing is sure and steady, despite the knife she holds in her hand and the blood on her clothes that's seeping into his. His skin crawls even while he whispers to her. "Mother, it's okay. It's okay."
Behind them, Caleb bleeds. His eyes unseeingly pointing toward the ceiling. Norma's sobs are all Norman can feel, despite the blood creeping toward the soles of his shoes. "Mother, I have to call Romero. You have to let me."
Her floral print blouse is ripped down the center where Caleb had grabbed her. One eye is swollen and blackening quickly. Norman knows that if Norma hadn't stabbed the bastard, he would've. Caleb had never deserved to live. He was the evil in their world and he'd been vanquished. Still, Norman needs the cavalry.
He pulls back from her. She's still in shambles, her sobs not subsiding, her fingers clenched too tight around the butcher knife. He takes her hand and unfolds her grip. The bloodied weapon clatters to the floor, right beside her brother's cooling body.
He remembers Keith. The lake, the boat, the cover up. Tonight would not happen that way. He moves toward the house phone and feels Norma come up behind him. Her arms wrap around his waist. She rests her forehead against his back, her tears falling harder. He turns halfway toward her and puts one arm across her shoulders. "It's okay." He mutters quietly. "It's okay, Mother, I promise."
The phone rings for a long minute before there's an answer on the other side of the line. "Sheriff Romero."
"Sheriff, it's Norman Bates. Something's happened."
My soul is yours to save…