There were two long, peaceful occasions in Sidney's life when roughly ten years passed before another Ghostface killing spree started. During the first period, she started dating Mark Kinkaid, fellow survivor and eventually retired detective, read a lot of self-help, and ended up writing her own version of all the books she had been consuming. During the second period, she finally married Mark Kinkaid, had three children, and ended up forming a life that resembled closely one of a somewhat normal woman's with a young and busy family. And along the way, she realized that as much pain, trauma, and loss as her life had carried, she was happy in her present.

Of course, Sidney's family would never quite be normal, given her history. Although Halle, having just turned two, wasn't old enough yet to understand her parents' rules, nine-year-old Tatum and seven-year-old Riley knew very well that compared to other kids, their parents were strict. Neither girl were allowed to go on sleepovers, under any circumstances, nor to attend a classmate birthday party or play date anywhere but in a public setting, with one or both parents present. Neither girl was ever left with a babysitter or any adult outside of their parents, except at school, and although they were young, both had taken tae kwon doh classes from the earliest age allowed. And although both girls were beginning to complain about this fairly regularly, neither were allowed to own a cell phone, or even use either of their parents without explicit permission and supervision. Ever.

Sidney had never quite believed that the deaths would be over entirely; as long as Gale's books and more primarily, the Stab movies existed, there would always be some obsessive fan of Billy Loomis the other string of psychopaths wanting to imitate his actions for any bullshit, selfish reason they could conjure up. So last year, when the eleven year time of peace was broken by Ghostface murders, she came to Woodsboro only after Dewey's murder, and only because she knew that Gale would need her. With Dewey gone, the importance that Gale played in her life had increased by that much more, and she couldn't live with herself if she had left the other woman alone in such intense pain, all the while trying to find and put the latest killers in the ground where they belonged. So she had gone to her, and as usual, they had worked together well to end the latest cycle of blood.

Sidney had invited Gale to stay with her, Mark, and the girls afterward, and for just over a week, Gale had. Sidney would have been fine with her staying longer- hell, if it was up to her, Gale could have chosen to live with them, and maybe that would have been better and healthier for her if she had. Although Gale never spoke to her of her experience or lack of family growing up, Dewey had let enough hints slip over the years for Sidney to understand that she had not had the protective, loving affection and teasing interactions with her family of origin that she and Mark made sure to give their girls in abundance. Sidney had never directly asked her why she and Dewey had never had children of their own, biological or otherwise, but she sometimes saw a hesitant bemusement in the way she interacted with the girls, a lack of comfort that made her wonder if Gale simply didn't have much of a maternal drive or desire, of if there were deeper, more psychological reasons behind the choice.

In the week of her staying with them, Gale never once referenced their interactions with each other in the hotel room, back in Woodsboro, or the manner of comfort she had sought in Sidney during that night. She remained quiet, letting Mark give her a warm hug of welcome and the girls' lively chatter fill the house without adding much of her own to any of it. Sidney let her be, giving her the opportunity to join her and the rest of the family when and how she wanted or needed and checking in on her without making it overly obvious when she saw chances to. She knew the other woman was nowhere near beyond her grief of Dewey, that she was likely to be coming to terms with it in new layers gradually for possibly years to come, and so she made herself and her family a welcome distraction and source of attention when Gale show to take it, and reminded her periodically that they always would and could be.

When she announced at the end of the week that she was going back to her penthouse in New York City, Sidney had driven her to the airport and given her a long, tight squeeze goodbye, noticing how hard Gale clung back to her in return. Pulling back, she had looked her directly in the eyes and said, "You're going to keep yourself safe. That's not a request. And you're going to come see us again. And no more fucking Woodsboro for you. I don't care who gets killed there, I don't care if someone stabs every person in the entire town, your ass is staying out of there, forever. Don't make me come after you."

Gale had laughed a little, shaking her head, and let Sidney squeeze her hands for emphasis.

"Don't worry," she said. "Between you and those asshole murderous teenagers, I have more concern about what you might do to me if you found me in that shithole town."

And she had kept to her word, as far as Sidney knew. At least when it came to staying safe and out of Woodsboro- she had ended up writing another book about the murders, rather than Dewey, after all, although Sidney hadn't begrudged her for it. Gale dealt with things very differently that she herself did, always had, often to her own detriment, and Sidney didn't need her to stop writing the books that seemed to give her a sense of control and comfort, just to prove how she had felt about Dewey. She did wish she hadn't jumped into a live in boyfriend quite so early, but that was more of a personal safety concern than out of resentment of any perceived disrespect for Dewey.

Besides, Gale did answer her if she texted or called, and she had flew over once to stay for a long weekend on Sidney's birthday, had made arrangements for Sidney to come out to stay with her at her penthouse for another on her own, and in the year of peace after Amber and Richie's murders, she did not go back to Woodsboro. It didn't matter. A little over a year later, the murderers came to her in New York.

Gale had called Sidney when it started again, of course. They had long ago came up with code words and phrases- in person and in privacy, of course, just in case a Ghostface cloned either of their phones to try to trick or draw out the other. Sidney and Mark had similar codes of their own, regularly changed and reviewed. Gale had told her tersely about the rising deaths, making her promise before Sidney could even offer otherwise that she would stay across the country, safely away from it all with her husband and kids. And although for a moment Sidney had been tempted to disobey her, in the end, she had stayed- with warning to Gale to reconsider just how much she trusted her new boyfriend, as they both knew the love interest was rarely innocent, and Gale, just as much Sidney, was a target now. The new survivors, the Carpenter and Meeks siblings, all attended school near Gale, and Kirby Reed, now in the FBI, had made contact to come help solve the murders and protect them all. There was nothing Sidney could do that wasn't already being done to keep people safe, and her own family needed her presence and protection.

Sidney had told Mark what was happening, of course, and for the next few days, she had tried to keep her girls unaware of the fact that she was continually on edge, waiting for her phone to ring with that all too familiar raspy voice on the other end, threatening her life before yet another follow up attempt on it. But she never received a call from Ghostface, nor did she receive another from Gale. It was Samantha Carpenter who called her instead.

"The killer attacked Gale," the younger woman had told her soberly. "He broke into her place and killed her boyfriend, and she's hurt- it's pretty bad. We stopped him before he could finish, but Sidney- she's still pretty bad off. I'm sorry."

It had taken time for Sidney to wrap her mind around what Samantha was telling her. Gale had been hurt before, of course, but never without Sidney there to see just how bad it was or to hear about it first hand from Dewey. Still, even as her heartbeat pounded with anxiety for her, she had stuck to safety, asking for Samantha to pass the phone to her sister Tara, then to Kirby as well, to confirm what she was hearing. Kirby was able to give Sidney information about Jill and the murders of 2011 that only Kirby, rather than someone impersonating her, could have known, and that was when Sidney accepted that the news was true.

"She was stabbed twice in the left shoulder and twice in the right side," Kirby had told her quietly. "She's at the hospital and it looks like she's going to need surgery, maybe blood transfusions. We'll know more later about how she does."

But it was Samantha's words that haunted Sidney, her choked passing on of Gale's message to Sidney herself- "Tell Sid he didn't get me." Even close to death, Gale's thoughts had been on Sidney, on wanting her to know how she had fought, wanting Sidney to be safe. Gale had never said the words to her before, but it was her own way of telling Sidney how much she loved her.

It was for that reason that Sidney went against her promise to Gale and made flight arrangements into the city for that very evening. Promise or not, safety aside, she could not stand back and let Gale suffer and possibly die without making every effort to be there for her, to let her know even if she was unconscious or comatose that she was still loved too. Leaving Mark back with the girls, she had hugged and kissed them all goodbye and prepared herself for a physically and emotionally grueling time ahead of herself.

It had been two layovers and constant texting updates from Sam, Tara, and the twins, but by the time Sidney landed at the airport closest to Gale's hospital and took her arranged rental to the hospital, she had decided she hated NYC, its traffic, and the huge anonymity and crowds of people that appeared inescapable. How Gale managed to live there was beyond her, but she soldiered on, grateful when she got a final call from Sam giving her the latest update of the Ghostface murderers and their victims. The killers had all been taken out by Sam and her sister- there were three this time, all related to Richie, not that Sidney gave a fuck. Kirby, Chad, and Gale were all hospitalized, with Chad and Gale's conditions the most severe, but all were out of surgery and stable. Gale had been told that Sidney was coming, although she kept drifting in and out of being conscious.

Sidney had grilled the girl on the final medical diagnoses of the three, but Gale in particular. According to Sam, Gale had been saved from death by the knife mostly hitting rib and sternum in its descent, cracking and breaking some of her bones and tearing her muscle tissues. She had indeed required fluids and a partial blood transfusion, internal and external stitching, and she needed monitoring as the doctors were concerned the broken pieces of rib would puncture her heart or lungs with too much movement. Sidney had sucked in her breath when she heard this- it all sounded so much more serious, being voiced aloud. It seemed so unreal to think of someone as tough and brave as Gale to be so physically vulnerable.

By the time she got to the hospital and signed herself in, Gale was being allowed visitors, according to Sam and Tara, although no more than one at a time. No one needed to argue with Sidney about who would be the visitor now settled in her room for the rest of her needed time in the hospital. After quick hugs to Sam, Tara, and Mindy and well wishes sent to Kirby and Chad, Sidney had made her way to Gale's hospital room, steeling herself for the condition she would find her in.

As she first knocked on Gale's door, hearing her call to come in, Sidney was relieved she was awake and sounded coherent. Still, it made her stomach sink when she pushed open the door and got her first look at her. Gale looked so small to her in the hospital bed, the hospital gown seeming to swallow her thin frame. She was very pale, even after the blood transfusion, and hooked to a few IVs, with oxygen tubes inserted in her nose. Her face was bare of makeup, the shadows under her eyes so dark they appeared nearly bruised, and she looked exhausted and antsy at the same time. Still, her blue eyes lit up when she saw Sidney, and she made some effort to sit up, immediately wincing with the pain that this small gesture brought her.

"Sid, hey, you're here," she said, her voice somewhat hoarse, and Sidney's heart tugged as she saw the relief in her expression that her mere presence brought Gale. "I figured you were Tara or Sam, they're the only people in this place who bother to knock. You really broke some speed records getting here, huh?"

"I was careful," Sidney answered, letting the duffle bag slung over her shoulder drop to the floor as she came to Gale's bedside. "And I have a police radar detector."

Gale laughed, flinching again from the pull in her side, and Sidney made a mental note to check with her doctor about the pain medication she was on, its dose, and whether she had been asking for more when needed. Somehow she highly doubted Gale was doing so.

"You outlaw."

"We've got to stop meeting up like this," Sidney returned. Taking Gale's hand in hers, she squeezed gently as she leaned in to kiss the older woman's cheek. She kept hold of her hand as Gale gave her a small smile of acknowledgement, her eyes darker now, serious as she gripped Sidney's hand back, squeezing just as hard.

"Did they tell you?"

"Tell me what, Gale?" Sidney asked softly, rubbing her thumb over the back of Gale's hand. Gale seemed serious, intent that Sidney hear what she had to say- what she needed to say, and she kept her gaze as she answered.

"He never got me. The killer. I told them to tell you- I never let him get me."

She swallowed, her eyes briefly alit with tears that she quickly blinked back, even as she continued to watch Sidney's response. Sidney knew, as she had known when she first heard Gale's message, that her words went deeper than their literal meaning. They both knew that of course the killer had "got" Gale- he had injured her, and badly. But he had never caused her to give up, never caused her to stop fighting for her life. In that, Gale had won, as she always had. He truly hadn't gotten her.

Sidney gave her a gentle smile of understanding, squeezing her hand again, and reached to smooth a hand over Gale's somewhat tangled hair. "They told me," she reassured her. "And I know you didn't. You never do. You never will. Neither of us will. Relax now, Gale. It's okay. I'm here. You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

"No, no, I want to," Gale insisted, her voice stronger now, any tears fully receded. "I need to talk to someone who's actually able to hold a conversation I understand, all I've had are doctors who can't speak plain English and those kids who don't have a damn clue how to talk sense. It's all movies and TikTok, click clack mumbo jumbo with them. Listening to them for too long gives me a migraine."

Sidney smirked, knowing even as Gale ranted that she was grateful for the company, grateful that the "kids" had cared enough to actually check in on her, whatever differences in age, opinions, and lifestyles they led.

"I'm glad they came to see you," she said noncommittally. "They're good kids."

"They're idiot," Gale grumbled. "Like most people under thirty. Hell, most people over thirty too. But yeah," she relented with a softer returning smile. "They're good kids."

She gestured slightly with the hand not in Sidney's towards the bed, nodding to the sliver of space on its narrow surface unoccupied by herself.

"Sit down if you want. Hell, lay down if you want, the bed sucks and I can't move over that easily, but I'll make room."

"I'm fine, Gale," Sidney started, "And I don't want to hurt you."

"I'm fine," Gale said impatiently, and when Sidney raised an eyebrow at her, she amended, "Okay, I'm half crippled, but if I can survive being stabbed again, I can survive moving two inches and having you sit on the bed with me."

Sidney realized then that the offer might be less about concern for Sidney's comfort and more about Gale herself wanting or needing to have something to offer up to her- or maybe, just maybe, her needing the comfort of Sidney closer. Making no further objections, Sidney held her tongue when Gale very slowly eased herself as far as possible to the right side of the bed, leaving a small amount of space on the left for Sidney to come next to her. Sidney was careful in how she positioned herself, choosing to lie on her right side so she was facing Gale, making her body as small as possible to give Gale more room. She was careful not to touch Gale's injured left shoulder, reaching across the woman's stomach instead for her right hand to grasp again. She didn't fail to notice that Gale's body seemed to loose a little more tension when she settled next to her, and she didn't hesitate to retake Sidney's hand.

"I heard about your boyfriend," Sidney said quietly after a few moments of not uncomfortable silence between them. "I'm sorry."

Gale exhaled slowly, her eyes going unfocused for a moment, as though seeing something else, something Sidney couldn't, but she didn't let go of her hand.

"He was more of a couple nights' stand than a boyfriend," she murmured back. "But yeah. I'm sorry too."

She paused, eyes clearing, and said with more vehemency, "I'm pissed about my penthouse, though. They fucked it all up, did the kids tell you that? Everything's broken up, it must be such a fucking disaster now. I bet people have broken in and stolen things too. I had some expensive shit in there, and people and their macabre obsessions with crime and horror movies are probably breaking in selling it for millions on the internet."

Sidney smiled, unsurprised by Gale's focus of her belongings more so than the loss of the not-boyfriend, and not judging her for it. She knew it was far easier for her to focus on the tangible than the emotional.

"Priorities much?" she teased lightly.

"If you saw the place, you would know why I'm stressed out at people making it worse than it already is," Gale retorted. "I love that place. It's amazing. And it should be, for the price."

"I'm sure," Sidney murmured, changing the subject. "So from what Sam was saying, it sounds like they'll discharge you in a few days at the latest, if everything checks out with no infections developing and your lungs and heart still okay."

"Yeah, hopefully," Gale nodded, exhaling with a roll of her eyes. "And then it's a shitload of follow up appointments, and they want me to do physical therapy again, especially with this being my right arm affected."

Sidney nodded, having expected this. "Right. So what's your plan then?"

"What do you mean?" Gale asked, genuinely not seeming to know what she was referring to. "Go to the stupid appointments, get able to move around enough to go back to work. Hire people to fix up the penthouse to make it livable again. What else would my plan be?"

"Gale," Sidney sighed, pulling at her hand until she had to look over at her. "Seriously?"

"What?" Gale repeated, some irritation in her tone now. "Why are you judging the plan you just asked me to present to you?"

"You're not taking any time off beyond the bare minimum of what it takes to get in front of the cameras without crutches or canes? You're going back to live again in the place where a man died, and you almost died too?"

To Sidney, laid out plainly, the thought process of the other woman was clearly ludicrous. But Gale had never been an easy one to convince when it came to her pride, and this was clearly one of those moments of blindness.

"It's my place, I'm not letting those fuckers chase me out of it," Gale insisted, blue eyes flashing. "Do you know the kind of waiting list most places like that have? I'd never get anything half as good, busted up now or not."

"Gale," Sidney tried a final time, but Gale lifted her hand off hers, holding it up in a stopping gesture.

"No, don't Gale me. I'm going to my home. It's mine, and they're not taking it away from me."

Sidney saw the determined lift to her chin, the beginnings of flush coloring her cheeks, and although she was glad to see some spark and life in her still, she couldn't help but privately think that Gale's choice was a mistake, one that she may later regret and refuse to admit to having made. Still, she couldn't force her to do anything, and so she backed off, choosing the role of support.

"Okay, well, I can look up people to clean the place up and redo your locks for you then while you're still in here, if that will help."

"Thanks," Gale's expression softened again slightly, and she gave her a small smile. "It would."

"Do you have someone in mind to help you out for a few days, once you're discharged?" Sidney pressed, keeping her tone curious rather than interrogatory, but she kept a sharp eye on Gale's face in her peripheral view.

"Help me out with what?"

Rolling her eyes, Sidney suppressed an urge to inwardly tell her own self "I told you so."

"Gale," she pointed out patiently, "you just had a blood transfusion. You aren't even walking yet. When you are walking, you'll probably need a cane for a while, and that may still be difficult because you were stabbed on both sides. Yes, it was your non dominant shoulder, so you can use your right arm this time around, but it will still hurt like a bitch because it's also your right side. It could be a while before you can get around and do things for yourself fully. Are you trying to tell me that your plan is to drag yourself around trying to, regardless of how many stitches you pull or ribs you rebreak, or if you pass out in the shower, or fall and can't get up on your own?"

When Gale clinched her jaw, avoiding eye contact, Sidney had her answer. Shaking her head, she exhaled, partly exasperated, partly amused.

"Right, I figured. So that's why I'm taking at least two weeks to stay with you. For the rest of the time you're at the hospital, and then until you can handle things without nearly killing yourself after. It's already decided, Mark is fully prepared to have the girls on his own and completely understands why I'm doing it. He wants to video chat you when you feel up to it, by the way, he was worried. I'm sure the girls will want to see aunt Gale too, or at least the older two. Halle doesn't really have the attention span for Zoom chats yet."

When Gale opened her mouth, Sidney held up a hand, cutting off any possible protests. "No arguments. Two weeks, minimum. You're stuck with me."

"Who says I was going to argue?" Gale asked, but when Sidney just raised an eyebrow at her, she huffed an assent. "Okay, fine. You could have at least given me a chance or choice in the matter, though, what if I wanted to be alone?"

"Nope, no chance or choice," Sidney said easily, giving her a small smirk. "I know how you work, Gale, and you like to actively fight everything, including what's actually good for your health. And as for being alone, I know how to be quiet and give people space. I lived by myself for years, I think I can handle letting you have yours when you need it. Like I said. Two weeks, stuck with me. Sorry not sorry."

"Sorry not sorry? Did you hear that off one of those college kids?" Gale griped. Giving another exhaled breath that Sidney didn't fail to notice caused her to flinch again, she muttered, "Oh, well, better I be stuck with you than the kids. Do you know how many times they tried to show me memes? Guess how many were actually worth looking at. If you guessed anything higher than zero, you lose."

Sidney chuckled, imagining this clashing of generations and humor styles all too well. Nodding down towards the duffle bag discarded on the floor beside them, she changed the subject.

"As a token of my imposing on your hospitality, I come bearing gifts. No flowers or cards, you'll have to depend on the kids for the sentimental stuff like that. I went for practical."

She counted off on her fingers on the hand not over Gale's. "Extra phone charger, toothbrush and toothpaste, hair ties, brush. Extra blanket. Contact lens solution and holder. Dry shampoo and conditioner, comfortable change of clothes, underwear and sports bra included. Let me know if I left out anything, but I'm pretty sure it's covered overall."

Gale's eyebrows raised, and she gave a startled but genuine laugh.

"Wow, you came prepared. Thank you," she said sincerely, giving Sidney's hand a squeeze of gratitude. "I appreciate it. Truly."

Even more than the "practical" gifts, she appreciated Sidney's presence. To Gale, that was more than gift enough, but she left this unspoken, hoping Sidney could see this in her eyes, if not hear it in words from her.

"Of course," Sidney accepted her thanks easily, shrugging. "It would be pretty ridiculous if I didn't know what to bring to a hospital by now, given the sorry experience we've had in being admitted and having to visit those admitted over the years."

That much was true. Although Gale knew from experience that back when Dewey was alive- something she tried even now to keep distant from her thoughts as much as possible- she had to tell him every single item she needed, even after all their years together. She wasn't sure if it was men, or if Dewey himself happened to be absent-minded in the face of a crisis.

"So," Sidney continued, raising an eyebrow back at Gale as she partially turned her head to face her. "What will it be? Do you want to talk?"

Before Gale could immediately close off that option, she quickly interjected, "Watching shitty TV is also an option. Or you could just let me talk about my normal, boring life in the suburbs until it puts you to sleep. Because honestly, Gale, no offense, but you look like you could use some rest."

Gale rolled her eyes back at her, but couldn't fully suppress her smirk.

"Nice, Sid, very subtle. You can say it, I look like shit."

"No, I didn't say that," Sidney said mildly, "but it's true that you're not your usual camera ready self. I'd say you still look pretty good for a senior citizen who's been stabbed though," she teased, glad when Gale attempted a glare that couldn't quite land, giving way to another smile. "No worries, Gale. Your gorgeous blue eyes make up for a lot when it comes to you having days not quite up to standard, appearance wise."

She wasn't just trying to keep her from being overly down on herself or her appearance, although Sidney was aware that Gale hated her scars, was acutely aware of covering them in public, always. Gale never said it, but Sidney knew the other woman well enough to be able to know without her saying it that she was self-conscious as well of any signs of her aging. To Sidney, it was understandable but a misplaced concern. Even back in her teenaged years, when Sidney hated Gale almost in equal measure to Cotton Weary, she had always thought she was beautiful, even so. Anyone would be blind to think otherwise. Sidney had in her younger years sometimes compared her own appearance to Gale's with some insecurity and found it lacking, but she was older now, and it never crossed her mind to worry or consider something so trivial any longer. She was comfortable and accepting of her body, scars, aging, and all, grateful that it had survived everything that it had. Her body had served her well, and besides, Mark seemed to appreciate it just fine.

Turning her attention more fully on Gale, Sidney regarded her more seriously. "So be real with me now, Gale. Are you being honest with the staff here about how much pain you're in? Because I see you flinching and trying to hide it, almost every time you move."

Gale's eyes shifted sideways; she would have shifted her body away from Sidney as well, but she knew even as the impulse struck that it would mean a telling flinch would accompany it, only proving Sidney's point.

"Shitty TV sounds good," she attempted to deflect. "You like reality shows, or soaps?"

"Gale," Sidney said sternly, eyes narrowed, and Gale huffed a breath, knowing that Sidney Prescott was one person she could never quite get around.

"Fine, maybe not totally honest."

"I thought as much," Sidney sighed. "Okay then. So here's the plan. I'm going to call for the nurses to come in and give you something to help you be more comfortable. Then we'll turn on the shitty TV, you'll lay back and relax, and I'll tell you about my boring life. And you're going to try to sleep."

When Gale didn't immediately respond, Sidney nevertheless noticed a brief flicker in her eyes that she understood to be apprehension. Just as she had been suspicious that Gale hadn't been open about her pain level, she was nearly certain that the woman had been doing what she could to stay awake and alert as much as possible. She could hardly blame her for that- there had been countless nights over the years when Sidney had done the same, out of fear for her life if she let down her guard enough to sleep, or out of fear of the dreams that would haunt her when sleep came. Gale had nearly died, again, and had witnessed yet another death of someone in her life. She didn't need to say it for Sidney to know that it was enormous strain on her, that she was fighting for control even to the point of only harming herself in the process.

She'd been there. She didn't want the misery of that self-destruction for Gale, at least not when she was there to guide her away from it.

"Let me guess," she said gently, rubbing her thumb over the back of Gale's hand as she looked into her avoidant eyes. "You're not a big fan of sleeping at the moment, no matter how much you need it."

Gale's jaw tensed, and for just a moment, she tightened her grip on Sidney's hand. Sidney nodded her acknowledgement, not forcing her to say more. Really, there was no need. She got it.

"I understand," she said quietly. "But you need this, Gale. Let yourself rest. If sleep comes, let it. If you look like you're having nightmares, I'll wake you. I promise. I'm not going anywhere, and I've had enough Starbucks to keep me going long enough for you to take a nap and then some. Okay?"

A long moment passed before Gale finally murmured her assent, exhaling heavily. Sidney gave her a smile of acknowledgement, then reached for the call button beside her bed, pressing it. As a nurse appeared, she looked to Gale, giving her the opportunity to speak up and advocate for herself, but ready to step in herself if Gale didn't tell them about her pain. When Gale, questioned about her level of pain, muttered a reluctant "7" on a scale of 1-10, Sidney hid her concern. Gale was not a person to overdramatize when it came to admitting such a thing; she must have let enough time go by in pain that it was nearly excruciating.

After pain medication had been added to her IVs, upping the dose, Sidney helped Gale adjust herself carefully, turned on the TV to an old sitcom, and lay back down on her side beside her, again grasping hold of Gale's hand. She kept her voice pitched low, just a little louder than the background of the TV, deliberately trying to sound soft and soothing in how she spoke.

"So you know Mark is fifty now, he's just retired this year. He doesn't quite know what to do with himself, being a stay at home dad, but I think he's starting to get to where it's become a new normal and he's enjoying it more. He still does get some extra pay sometimes to go out to schools or daycares, YMCA, that sort of thing, talking to kids and youth groups about safety and saying no to drugs. I think he likes that more than he wants me to know, all those little eyes looking up to him hanging on his every word. He's gone to Tatum and Riley's school a few times, and Riley loves that. She gets a kick out of telling everyone her daddy used to catch bad guys. Tatum gets embarrassed, though. She's at that age where she thinks she's almost a teenager and should have all the rights and privileges of one, even though she's nine years old. Thinks a training bra she doesn't even need means she's basically ready to move out. God, I dread when she actually is a teenager, she's going to be keeping me on my toes for sure."

Sidney chuckled, thinking of her oldest daughter. With her dark hair and hazel eyes, Tatum didn't resemble her namesake, but she somehow still managed to often remind Sidney of her with her dramatic gestures and eye rolls, but even more so with her fierce but loyal personality. Similarly, Riley's sweet smile and goofy but earnest way of talking often reminded her of Dewey, and Halle's sass and determination reminded her of her college roommate. Her girls were their own people, but it was interesting how they each carried small pieces that echoed those their first names honored.

"Tatum is nine, like I said, and Riley's seven now. Halle just turned three," Sidney continued, still keeping her voice low as she watched Gale lying beside her. "Tatum is into K Pop and 90's fashion. She calls herself a VSCO girl, whatever that means. To me it just means she's wearing what I wore as a teenager, which makes me feel really old, since she doesn't know none of it is original designs or who the people or characters are on the t-shirts she wants. She thinks she wants to play guitar, and we might let her, if she can go the rest of the school semester without getting a write up for running her mouth at the teacher again."

Gale chuckled, the lines around her eyes and forehead softer; Sidney could tell that she was relaxing, her eyes a little blurred looking as the pain medication began to take effect. She continued to talk, finding herself enjoying the opportunity just to tell her more about the family she loved.

"Riley is really into animals, especially horses. She wants to learn to ride, but we're holding off, because it could be like her wanting to go to space camp and be an astronaut after she saw a Youtube video about space. They both take karate every week, I figured that was important that they have some kind of self-defense skills early on. And as for Halle, she's the girly one. She's into princesses and unicorns and everything pink and glittery. I have no idea why because her sisters and I were never like that. She likes baby dolls and Barbies, and she's obsessed with Frozen. She sings "Let it go" constantly, except she still pronounces it like "wet it whoa." I thought that was pretty fitting when she was potty training," Sidney smiled. "She just started preschool, and she seems to like it so far."

Glancing down at Gale, she saw that the other woman's eyes were barely open, and her grasp of Sidney's hand has loosened considerably.

"That's…that's nice," she murmured, her voice soft. "I can tell you're happy, Sid….I'm glad."

"I am," Sidney acknowledged, giving her a gentle smile as she nodded her head. "I really am. And I'm glad too."

Reaching out with the hand not in Gale's, adjusting her self slightly so she could do so while still lying on her side, she stroked her fingers through Gale's hair, keeping the touch slow and rhythmic.

"Go to sleep, Gale," she said. "I promise you that you're safe to relax. I'll be right here when you wake up. Rest."

A few more strokes of her hand, and Gale let her eyes slide shut. Her breathing slowed, and her hand in Sidney's slackened as she drifted fully into sleep.

For several minutes Sidney lay quietly with Gale, smoothing her hair and keeping hold of her hand. When she could see that the other woman was deep into her sleep, her eyes moving beneath their lids slightly, she gradually eased away from her, standing from the bed and giving her body a deep stretch. Adjusting the thin hospital blanket over Gale, she went to her bag and got out the thicker, softer one she had brought for her, settling it over her as well. Then she pulled the small stool by the room's sink up beside the bed, sitting, and took out her phone, prepared to simply wait for Gale to awaken. She had promised her she would be there for her, and she intended to keep her promise.