The silence between Sidney, Kirby and Dewey that followed Kirby's weak quip about being gutted hung in the air like a sulphurous smell. The humour had been a brief reprieve, but it was quickly replaced by a heavy sense of something that was almost too imperceptible to notice. It was like a blanket of grief had settled in the air.
Dewey sensed the uneasiness in the air and cleared his throat, reaching up and removing his hat, resting it on his lap and brushing at the top as if there was a blemish upon it.
"I suppose you've got a lot of questions, Kirby…" He trailed off, forcing himself to look at her instead of his hat.
Kirby took another moment to collect herself, staring up at the white tiled ceiling. It was so clean and sterile that it still hurt her eyes as she was accustomed to the darkness that had consumed her over the past few weeks.
"It was Charlie." Kirby spoke in a hoarse rasp, shakily extending her hand to retrieve the cup of water that had been placed on her bedside table. Pressing the cup to her lips, she took two or three gulps, coughing and spluttering as she placed the drink back down and wiped her mouth. Taking a couple of short breaths, Kirby collected herself before continuing. "Charlie was the one who tried to kill me. D-did he hurt anyone else? Jill? Trevor?"
Sidney knew that she was struggling to ask those questions, she could see it in the way Kirby closed her eyes after she had asked, and the way her voice had caught on the odd syllable. She supposed to someone who was none the wiser, it could be blamed on the struggle of speaking after such a long time being silent. Sidney knew though. It was a betrayal that she knew all too well.
The weight of her next few words were going to hit like a bulldozer- and nobody would be able to prepare Kirby for that. The only kindness that Sidney could give her was honesty, brutal and cruel, but something to cling to when everything else felt so completely uncertain.
"There were… there were no other survivors, Kirby." Sidney reached out and grasped Kirby's hand in her own. "Trevor was shot, and as for Jill… she was the other killer."
Sidney could feel the clamminess of Kirby's palm as soon as those words were uttered. She could only stare back as her gaze fixed on Sidney, eyes glazing over with tears at this revelation that had well and truly surprised her.
"Jill? You're lying. She couldn't, she wouldn't…I would have known, I would have been able to work it out." Kirby's brain was spiralling and her stomach churned violently.
"She was my cousin, Kirby. If anyone should have known or guessed…it should have been me." Sidney trailed off. It was typical, denial. She herself could recall laying in bed at night all those years ago after the first set of murders, tossing and turning hopelessly as she struggled to come up with any excuse as to why it couldn't have been Billy. She had damn well heard his confession, the way he gloated about butchering her mother and explained just how he was going to get away with it. However, it hadn't stopped Sidney near enough tearing her hair out trying to justify a crossed wire or miscommunication.
"You're lying! None of this would have happened if you hadn't come back on your stupid fucking book tour. What were you looking for? A sequel?!" The words flowed from Kirby's tongue like poison, but they came flooding through all the same.
"Kirby." Dewey intervened swiftly- struggling with his own moral dilemma. He could understand where Kirby was coming from. Woodsboro had been a peaceful town for years until Sidney had returned- and even in his own darkest and deepest thoughts, he had wondered whether Sidney truly was a catalyst for spilt blood. Those thoughts hadn't lasted too long though. Sidney was one of his closest friends, a fellow survivor. She was someone who had felt the loss of his sister just as much as he had. That was what he regarded her as now, a sister. He hadn't been able to protect Tatum, he had been ignorant and caught off-guard, and he resolved that such a thing like that would never happen where Sidney was concerned. Dewey had learned from his mistakes.
"Don't defend her!" Kirby snapped, startling him from his thoughts. "How many times have you been hurt? What about Olivia and Trevor and Robbie? How many more people have to die?" The words were projecting from her like vomit. Kirby was never one to shy away from speaking her mind, but she was rarely rude and offensive to people's faces. But she couldn't help it, the white-hot rage was pouring from her and she could barely think straight.
"This isn't Sidney's-" He was cut off by Sidney herself.
"It's fine, Dewey." Sidney gently squeezed Kirby's hand and released it, letting out a slow sigh and standing up. She wasn't angry, how could she be? She understood Kirby's reasoning because she had the exact same thoughts a lot of the time too. Her counsellor had told her it was survivor's guilt, the constant niggling in her brain that questioned why. Why did this happen to her? Why did so many people hate her so much? Why did she survive? Why was she still alive? Why why why why why?
"It's a lot for you right now, and I understand that." Sidney told her somewhat sympathetically. "But the whole world knows more of your story than you do- and even if we have to talk about it a little bit at a time, I want to be there for you. You might not like it and you might hate me- and once I've told you everything if you still despise me then you won't hear from me again." She promised her, taking a moment before continuing. "But I know how you feel. And it's going to be really hard doing this alone. I had to because I didn't have a choice, but this time you have a choice, Kirby. I'll pop and see you later if that's alright?"
Kirby deliberately didn't make eye contact with Sidney throughout her speech. Instead, she stared fixedly to the wall. It was uncomfortable to say the least, but what made it worse that despite the verbal hammering that Sidney had just received, she had not said a word to defend her case. It made Kirby feel guilty, which consequently made her even angrier at the level-headed brunette.
Sidney was somewhat relieved. She'd been anticipating Kirby's reaction. In the short time that Sidney had been acquainted with her, Kirby seemed to have the fieriness of Tatum, the loyalty of Hallie, and the survival instinct of herself. She liked it and she respected it.
Kirby's silence served to support the idea that she was quite finished with her onslaught, but was still frosty and furious. The small breakthrough that Sidney felt came through the fact Kirby did not answer whether she was welcome later on or not. It was the shock that had been talking, not her.
"Get some rest, there's guards outside looking after you. But it's done now." Sidney told her, taking note of the heaviness in Kirby's eyes. After having no energy and drive for a matter of weeks, the outburst must have really taken it out of her.
"I'm fine." Kirby retorted shortly, fighting to keep her eyes open like a new-born struggling to stay awake.
"I know you are."
"We've been trying to get in contact with your dad, Kirby, but he's not picking up." Dewey stated, scratching the back of his neck as he stood up to allow Kirby to get some rest.
"He's in Beijing on business. He was having issues with his phone… but he should know if I haven't been skyping." Kirby trailed off, equally as confused.
"Well if you give us permission to access your account, we can send him a message to tell him where you are and where to contact you." Dewey offered.
Kirby quickly shook her head, panic momentarily flaring in her eyes.
"No…no. It's okay. He's due back at the end of the month anyway…I mean in the next few days I guess." The time lapse was something that Kirby was still getting used to. "I don't want to panic him. He needs this contract. I'm okay."
"I think he ought to know if you're in hospital, Kirby." Dewey advised. He and Gale had never had children, something else the couple had not agreed on and something in which Gale had managed to get her own way with as per usual.
Shaking her head once more, Kirby closed her eyes, finally allowing exhaustion to prevail over her weary body.
"Honestly, Sheriff… I'm okay. He hates hospitals- and he'd probably not be able to get back until his original flight time anyway. There's no point in… in worry-" She didn't get to finish her sentence, trailing it off as she settled back into a deep sleep.
Dewey and Sidney quietly exited the room, though Sidney was quite sure that she could've pressed an airhorn repeatedly and Kirby still wouldn't have awoken. The walk back to Sidney's room was silent- and it was only when they got to the room did Dewey finally break the silence.
"She didn't mean it, Sid. She's just a kid; she's scared, wiped out and overwhelmed."
Sidney nodded, a small smile gracing her lips at Dewey's feeble attempt to comfort her. Kirby was indeed all of those things, but Sidney wasn't quite so sure that she hadn't meant it.
"It's fine, Dewey. Honestly. I'm pretty wiped myself." She lied smoothly. Even if she had been fatigued, she wouldn't have been able to sleep, there was too much going on in her mind. "Are you going to try and get in contact with Kirby's dad?"
Dewey sighed and shrugged his shoulders. "Kirby is old enough to make those decisions for herself, despite what I might think. She's always been pretty independent since her mom passed though."
"How did she die?" Sidney asked curiously.
"Cancer. Ate away at her until the very end. Kirby really took care of her. Nearly had to get her in a cop car every day for two years to take her to school or else she'd have dropped out."
"You care for her." Sidney observed.
"Yeah… I'm fond of her, I guess. She reminds me of… y'know." He shrugged, somewhat embarrassed as he glanced down at his camel coloured trousers.
Sidney's gaze softened, as did her voice as she rested her hand over his.
"She reminds me of her too."
