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.
The next few hours passed uneventfully; as Gale slept, Sidney caught up on emails, Kindle books, and mindless games on her phone, texted Mark an update, and smiled at the selfie he had sent her with himself and their girls. They were in a near dog pile on the couch, Halle's hair a wild mass of curls, peanut butter smeared across Riley's cheek, and Tatum was clearly trying not to smile, but couldn't hide the twinkle in her eye. Her girls were always a whirl of energy, and she loved them and Mark dearly. She knew how lucky she was for what her life had become, and as she glanced over at Gale in the hospital bed, her heart went out to her that Gale had yet to come to her own happy ending.
As Gale's sleep stretched out into its third hour, Sidney noticed her body beginning to twitch out the corner of her eye, visible even under the blankets. Gale's features grew taut with distress, and her breathing grew fast and shallow; she was clearly falling into unpleasant dreams. Sidney was all too familiar with this and rose to her feet quickly, sitting on the edge of the bed and reaching for her hand. Holding it gently but firmly, she rubbed her thumb over its back, her other hand again beginning to smooth back Gale's hair as she spoke to her, attempting to ease her into calmer sleep.
"Gale, shh, it's okay," she murmured, keeping her voice soft; she didn't want to wake her, if not necessary, but rather to change the direction of her dreams. "You're okay, you're safe. You're with Sidney, and you're safe. It's all over now. It's over and you're safe, I'm here. Shhh."
It took a few minutes of effort, but gradually Gale's body stilled again, and her features relaxed, her breathing steadying. Sidney continued to stay beside her, adjusting so she was sitting upright with her back against the bed's backboard, and held her hand, hoping that the continued physical contact would serve as a reminder to her unconscious that she was safe.
When Gale did awaken about an hour later, Sidney was glad to see that her eyes were brighter and her face had more color to it, and there was more of her usual animation to her voice when she spoke. The rest had obviously done her good, and she was going to need more of it. When the nurses checked on her, they informed her and Sidney that her healing and vitals looked good, and she had been referred to a physical therapist for improving strength in her left arm in particular once discharged. Gale, of course, had wanted to know when exactly her discharge could be expected, already chomping at the bit to get out of the hospital- not that Sidney could blame her for that.
"We'd like to keep an eye for another day or two to make sure no infections or complications set in, and we'd like to see food and fluid intake by mouth as well as being able to get to and use the restroom, even if with assistance," she was informed. Sidney could already see that the other woman was taking note, determined to make each of those things happen just as soon as she could force them.
She would have stayed overnight with Gale, had Gale wanted her to or not protested, but the other woman had insisted that Sidney go to her hotel room to sleep. Sidney had done so with some reluctance, but she knew Gale, and it seemed the woman's pride would not allow Sidney to stay with her, even if she did actually want the company.
Sidney took advantage of the time to herself to take a long shower, speak to Mark and her daughters on Zoom and tell them all good night, and looked up the numbers of a lock replacement, window replacement, carpet cleaner, and general cleaning company to call in the morning. Gale's apartment would require a lock of work accomplished before she returned home, and Sidney intended to make it as easy for her as possible to go back into her own space with as little required of her as possible. She slept well, though it felt strange to sleep in an unfamiliar bed and room without Mark beside her or the noise of her daughters waking her in the morning. Remembering the doctor's encouragement for Gale to eat and drink by mouth, she took the time to stop at a Starbucks, picking out bagels, scones, and coffee for them both. She had a suspicion that the doctors wouldn't be thrilled about the coffee, but she also knew that Gale, a caffeine addict of probably more than thirty years, had to be jonesing by now.
She could tell that it had been a rough night for her as soon as she entered Gale's hospital room again; the other woman's face was drawn and tired again, even with her earlier nap. But Gale's eyes gleamed as she saw the Starbucks bag and to go cups in Sidney's hands, and she reached out a greedy hand, seeming ready to jump out of the bed to get to them if necessary, injuries be damned.
"You are my savior," she declared, quickly animated and eager for her caffeine fix. "This will get me on my feet if nothing else will."
She did manage to eat half of a bagel and drink most of the coffee, and by the end of the day she had eaten the other half of the bagel and some Jello. The doctor okayed Sidney to help her into the bathroom, and by the end of the day Gale was successful in using it and able to move there and back to bed with some dependence on Sidney's assistance. It made her breathless and shaky to try, but Sidney saw her determination and need to keep pushing herself and held back her concern. She would wait until Gale seemed genuinely to be pushing herself past her body's limits before attempting to hold her back.
They passed their day together with silly games and quizzes on their phones together, bad TV, and Gale let Sidney help her dry shampoo her hair and braid it back from her face. And by the second day, although Sidney could tell Gale had again struggled through the night she had again insisted on spending by herself, the doctors were satisfied enough with her progress to schedule her discharge.
Gale had grumbled but complied with the hospital policy of being wheeled out to Sidney's rental car, although she had accepted as little help as she could get away with from Sidney in settling into the passenger seat and buckling herself in. Sidney had already checked that the work needed on her penthouse had been completed the day before, and she had been assured that it was ready for Gale's return home. Still, as she helped Gale to her door, a supportive arm around her waist, she saw Gale suck in her breath, seeming to steel herself for what she might see when she re-entered. Sidney had only visited Gale once before in New York City, but she was pleased to see that the penthouse's interior was more or less the same as she remembered it.
Nevertheless, she noticed Gale's eyes stray, pausing for long moments on an area near the kitchen, and another right near her living room couch. She didn't voice it, but Sidney's suspicion was that these were the areas that she and Brooks, her booty call, had been attacked.
"You all right?" she asked her, keeping her voice neutral.
She wasn't surprised when Gale swallowed, her eyes hardening, and she lifted her chin almost in defiance before giving a brief nod.
"Yes, of course. Let's get everything inside."
"Everything" was pretty much the two of them and Sidney's bag of her and Gale's belongings, but she didn't comment, instead staying even with her, ready to further help if Gale needed it as they entered the penthouse. Gale paused in the doorway, turning her head first to inspect the newly installed row of heavy locks and latches securing it, and nodded her approval. As they came further inside, Gale took in the rest of the interior, her eyes settling gradually over specific places, taking in the changes after the repairs. She didn't say anything, her expression closed off, as Sidney gave her a gentle nudge.
"I'm sure everything isn't exactly as it was, but is it pretty close? Your place really is lovely, by the way. You and your expensive tastes."
"Yes," Gale said briefly, her tone as difficult to read as her face. "Yes, it's close."
She looked distant, perhaps thinking of the last time she had been present within these same walls, of her being chased and hurt, bleeding out, believing that she was dying. Sidney wondered, watching her, if she was thinking too of the man who had died not far from her, or even further back to Dewey, alone on a cold hospital floor in Woodsboro over a year before. Whatever she was thinking of, it made her feel cool and tense against Sidney, and Sidney gently encouraged her with a hand on her arm to stir out of her private semi daze.
"Come on, you have to be tired. Sit down and I'll see if there's anything in your fridge or cabinets that isn't out of date or void of all calories."
But Gale paused when Sidney tried to guide her towards the living room area's couch, her feet stilling before a specific patch of carpet. To Sidney, the area looked undistinguished from the rest, but she knew from the way that Gale looked at it that there was significance attached to it. Was it where Brooks had died, where she had been stabbed for the first time? Or perhaps the place she had been caught at last, where she had passed out and assumed dead until the paramedics broke in after Sam and Tara to save her?
She didn't delay long enough for Sidney to ask. Instead she lifted her head again, determinedly pushing herself on, and let Sidney help her sit.
"Let's see, not that I expected much else, but you have very little in your fridge or cabinets," Sidney called over her shoulder to Gale as she explored her kitchen. "There's some not-normal-sized bagels that look like they taste like cardboard though, do you want one of those? I can make some coffee too."
"Sure," Gale called back, not because she was actually hungry, but because she knew that Sidney wasn't going to settle until she had attempted to feed her something. "Actually, you can have the coffee if you want, but I'd rather have a glass of wine. Whatever's open is fine."
Sidney didn't comment, simply making a couple of bagels, taking out the small tub of low fat, likely zero taste cream cheese she found to go with them and brewing some coffee for herself, if not Gale. She did get an open bottle of wine and a glass for her as well and set the retrieved items down on the coffee table in front of them as she sat beside Gale.
"Are you supposed to be drinking?" she asked mildly, even as she poured Gale the wine she requested. "You're still on some pretty heavy pain meds."
Gale rolled her eyes at her, giving her a look as close to a glare as Sidney had seen from her since she first entered her hospital room. Sidney couldn't help but smile as Gale responded with sarcasm.
"I know you're a counselor, but you're not a doctor. And you might be a mom now, but you're not mine."
"Okay, got it, if you want to fall down on your way to the bathroom in the night or have a hangover from hell, your business," Sidney shook her head at her.
As Gale tilted a glass towards her as though in acknowledgement before drinking, the two fell into silence that wasn't uncomfortable, but did seem to stretch on for longer than usual between them. Sidney made effort not to look over at Gale directly, not wanting to seem like she was monitoring how much she was eating or drinking, she nevertheless noticed that her demeanor seemed different than in the hospital- more subdued. Sidney gave her several more minutes before turning her head to catch her eye, noticing then the preoccupied, almost distant look in the other woman's eyes before she caught her attention.
"I'm not pushing you to do or say anything, I heard you when you told me that you're fine," she said, keeping her voice neutral. "But it is a lot to be back here, after what happened. Even for you. And you're quiet, Gale. I know you're probably tired and in pain, but if it's more than that, and this is hard, I'm not asking- I'm just telling you, it would be understandable."
Gale sighed, rolling her eyes again, but she did turn her head towards Sidney, and there was a lack of the defensiveness Sidney had expected in her expression when she answered. As she shifted to angle towards her more, her knee bumped Sidney's in accident, but Sidney didn't think it was accidental that she allowed it to remain in contact against her.
"It's a little more than I expected it to be," she admitted. "But that's not it, really."
Sidney waited, patient, as Gale seemed to be deciding for herself how much she wanted to say, or whether she wanted to say anything at all. She could see the choice form into a resolution as her eyes dilated, her features tensing just before Gale spoke again.
"It's the production company of my show," she said, bitterness tinging her tone. "They've been emailing. More than once."
Sidney raised an eyebrow, not surprised, but feeling a stir of anger and protectiveness on Gale's behalf. "Don't tell me they're already trying to get you back to work. Don't let them pressure you, Gale. And don't put too much onto yourself either. You're barely walking around on your own right now. Going right back to work isn't a good idea, you know this."
"Ha, as if," Gale snorted, but there was no real humor to her expression. "Exactly the opposite, actually." She hesitated, her features carefully arranged into a mask of feigned indifference, but Sidney saw the truth of her feelings in her eyes. "They want me to retire."
That, Sidney hadn't been expecting. Both her eyebrows went up, and she sat forward, genuinely thrown by the idea of Gale Weathers, who might be older now but who was certainly far from old to Sidney, retired from the job she had always pursued so relentlessly and with such success. Gale, not working as a reporter or public figure- possibly not working at all? The idea was surreal.
"Why would they want you to retire?" she asked. "You're not even retirement age yet. And it's not like you won't recover enough to do your job if they'd give you time."
"Ha," Gale said bleakly, shaking her head and letting herself sink back a little more against the back of her couch. She took another swallow of her wine before explaining, "In the eye of the public, when it comes to any profession even slightly dependent on your appearance, I'm not just at retirement age, I'm beyond it. They said something in the emails about the time I had off last year, in addition to the time I'll need off now. That it might be too much for me to return, given my injuries then and now and the possible "complications." Something about me being impacted or reinjured at work. They're making it sound like it's out of concern for me, or even that I'm not fit for the position anymore, but I know what this is really about."
She grasped the stem of the wine glass a little more tightly, and Sidney could see her knuckles whiten with the intensity of her hold. "Liability. They think I'm old, I get stabbed every other year, and they want to cut their losses and get some young hot thing without the baggage of needed surgeries or gunshot wound recovery time. Having Gale Weathers is more trouble than it's worth, and they want to cut me out."
Sidney had always known that the media was brutal, sometimes on her own behalf or towards people she loved. Gale too had been on the receiving end of its meanness before, but somehow always managed to claw back to being more in control of her own narrative's spin. This was the most bitter that Sidney had ever seen her towards having her lack of control of the media's perception of her, and it was painful to see how hurt she truly was.
"But you're Gale Weathers," she protested, incredulous. "The whole reason people watch their show is because of you and your name- because of your background. You ARE the show, Gale."
"Exactly," Gale nodded, taking another swallow of her wine and jutting her chin in Sidney's direction as though to acknowledge her point. "They have no reason to fire me that they can put down as credible. My work speaks for itself, and the ratings are as high as ever- probably higher, once I come back, because everyone will want to see any new, visibly gruesome scars I might have accumulated after I survived yet another bloodbath. But they don't see that, or if they do, they're too stupid to care."
"Are you fighting this?" Sidney asked her. She had barely finished her sentence before Gale nodded emphatically, her jaw set.
"Hell yes. I'm not going down without a fight. Telling me in an EMAIL, can you believe that? Fucking cowards. They couldn't even give me the respect of a face to face meeting, or at least a phone call. An email!"
"I'm sorry," Sidney said softly. "That's really fucked up, Gale."
She let her leg shift slightly towards the other woman's in the way that she was turned to face her, her knee lightly coming into contact with Gale's thigh. Gale didn't pull away from this, and seemed if anything to be taking comfort from it, as Sidney had hoped. She finished her wine in another few swallows, setting it down heavily on the coffee table in the way one might set down a beer mug, and exhaled.
"Yeah. Yeah, it really fucking is."
Starting to push herself forward with obvious effort to pick up the bottle of wine, Gale took the glass she had just discarded, pouring herself another glass with an unsteady hand that sloshed its contents a little. Sidney held her tongue from offering to help and let Gale sit back on her own, though she could see even the small movements had been painful to her.
For the next several minutes Sidney drank her coffee and Gale finished the rest of her wine, with little further discussion between them. Maybe it was the mixture of her pain medications with the two glasses, but when Sidney looked over at Gale again after she had let her empty glass slide to her lap, she thought that the other woman's eyes seemed heavy, her usually pale face flushed. When she put a hand on Gale's uninjured shoulder, wanting to look at her more closely, Gale surprised her by leaning forward towards her, her forehead coming to rest, heavy and somewhat awkward, against Sidney's shoulder. She didn't say anything, but Sidney could feel her breathing against her neck, warm and slow.
Sidney didn't say anything to her; it didn't seem the time to speak. Instead, she smoothed Gale's hair back in long, slow strokes, her touch gentle and repetitive. It was something that she and Tatum Riley used to do for each other when they were upset, so many years ago- one girl laying her head on the other's shoulder as the other played with her hair. It was something she did for her own daughters now when they were tired or upset, and it was as calming to Sidney as it was to them. With time and rhythmic gestures, she felt Gale relaxing against her, her breathing slowing, and she thought without saying so that Gale must have slept very little in the hospital, alone and still dealing with the aftermath of her attack and the deaths.
"Tired?" she asked quietly instead, her hand smoothing over Gale's brow.
"Mm. A little," the other woman admitted somewhat reluctantly. Her eyes were barely open at all anymore, her slight frame now leaned most of its weight into Sidney, and though Sidney didn't mind, she knew it couldn't be comfortable for her with her injuries to go to sleep on the couch.
"Well, let's get you ready for bed," she said in response. "Come on. I'm sure your bed is way nicer than the couch."
"This couch is pretty damn nice, or better be for the price," Gale said groggily, and Sidney chuckled.
Nevertheless she let Sidney help her up and keep a hand on her back as she shuffled to her bathroom. Sidney stood out in the hall, respecting Gale's desire to try to attend to herself fully independently, and she did manage to brush her teeth and use the bathroom on her own. She seemed satisfied, almost proud of this as she emerged, going into her bedroom with Sidney following, and also more willing to accept Sidney's help with undressing and dressing for bed. As she settled into the mattress, nestling her head against the pillow, Sidney squeezed her shoulder before retreating.
"Good night, Gale."
"Night," Gale called back, already closing her eyes.
Sidney went down the hall to Gale's guest bedroom, keeping Gale's door just slightly cracked as she exited. She wasn't yet tired, but she nevertheless went through the routine of brushing her own teeth, washing her face, and getting dressed in the clothes she planned to wear to bed. It was still early evening, around the time that Mark would be getting Hallie ready for bed and supervising bath and teeth brushing of the older girls in her absence. She knew the house would probably be a whir of chaos, but she couldn't resist the thought of at least trying to tell them all good night.
Opening her phone to her video call app, she smiled when Mark's face appeared on the screen a minute later, Hallie's chubby hand grasping his shoulder.
"Hi, hon," he greeted her, his hazel eyes tired but warm as he smiled at her.
"Hi," she smiled back, warmth settling in her chest at the sound of his familiar voice being able to look into his eyes, even with a screen between them. "Pulling Hallie to bed?"
"No, no bed!" Hallie shouted, her round face coming partly into view as she tilted her mouth towards Mark's ear, and Sidney snorted, knowing from experience how uncomfortable that angle of listening to her was. Mark addressed her softly, the phone dipping so she couldn't see them for a moment.
"Yes, it's almost time for bed, Hallie-gator. Mommy's on the phone right now, why don't you tell her good night?"
"No!" Hallie insisted again, one of her favorite words lately, but Mark held the phone up so both their faces were now visible to Sidney, and Hallie stared back at her mother with interest even as she rubbed her droopy eyes with one palm. Sidney smiled at her gently, waving, and felt her heart melt when Hallie waved back.
"Hi, baby," Sidney said to her, keeping her voice low in an attempt to help Mark's efforts at putting her to sleep. "What would you like to dream about tonight?"
"No dreams," Hallie protested, the curly blonde hair whose origin was still a mystery to Sidney sticking out in all directions. "Mommy."
"That would be nice, if you dreamed about Mommy," Sidney agreed, deliberately misinterpreting her words. "How about Hallie dreams about Mommy, and Mommy will dream about Hallie? Good night, baby, I love you. Blow Mommy a kiss?"
Hallie complied clumsily, and Sidney pretended to catch it and blow one back. She heard the clamor of arguing, excited voices in the distance and smiled, asking Mark knowingly, "Tatum and Riley?"
"Just got out of the bath together," he confirmed. "I told Tatum that if she takes a bath with Riley every day and washes Riley's hair for her without making her cry, she gets two dollars every day. So far, so good."
"Smart," Sidney said with genuine admiration.
Their oldest had reached the age where, although she hadn't quite hit puberty yet, she was reluctant to be lumped into being a "little girl" along with her younger sisters and therefore didn't want to share a bath with either of them. Riley, however, though able to bathe herself, still needed help with her long hair, and hated being alone anywhere in the house. Sidney usually solved this problem by bathing her and Hallie together, but that made putting Hallie to bed earlier than the older girls difficult to do without another pair of adult hands helping out. Mark's solution was a good one, and one Tatum no doubt thought was a better bargain for her than for him.
"Hey girls," Mark called over his shoulder, "Mom's on the phone, come talk to her for a bit while I put your sister to bed."
Sidney hid her smile as she heard the noise of clomping feet stampeding to reach the phone before each other. High pitched voices squabbled over who got to hold the phone, with Tatum's longer reach ultimately winning out, and the faces of her two older girls, shining clean, dark hair still damp from their bath, appeared on the screen.
"Tatum, I wanna see Mom too!" Riley whined, pushing at the oldest Kinkaid child's shoulder, and Tatum shoved her back, rolling her eyes at her in a gesture that Sidney was becoming far too familiar with seeing from her.
"You can, dummy, she's right here. I'm not hiding it, I'm just not letting you hold it. You'll drop it and crack the screen."
"I will not!" Riley cried, indignant, even as Tatum countered.
"You did with my tablet!"
"That was last year!"
"Hey now, that's enough," Sidney reproved them. "Tatum, don't call your sister a dummy. Riley, Tatum will hold the phone, but she's going to make sure that you both can see. I see you both, so you should both be able to see me too. How are you girls?"
"Tatum has a girlfrienddddd!" Riley sang out, grinning at her older sister, as Tatum's eyes grew huge, and she whacked Riley's leg, causing her to cry out. "Owww! Mom, she's hitting me!"
"I do not have a girlfriend!" Tatum denied, although Sidney noticed the girl's cheeks flush. "You don't know what you're talking about, you're so immature!"
That was one of her new favorite words- immature. It applied to anything that Tatum disliked, and nearly always was used by her to describe her little sisters.
"You said she's pretty!" Riley protested, "you kept talking about her all day!"
"Girls, you're both out of line," Sidney stepped in. "Tatum, you know you are not allowed to hit. Riley, that isn't a nice thing to tease your sister about. Lots of people are pretty, Tatum can think a girl is pretty without you teasing her about it."
She had noticed though that Tatum was beginning to make comments about girls on movies being "pretty" more often lately and was beginning to suspect that it was time to have a talk with her oldest about dating, sexual orientation, and unfortunately, sex. It wasn't a talk she looked forward to, but she was determined that her daughters, whatever their sexual orientations and gender identities turned out to be, have accurate information and knew that she would always love and support them for who they were.
"Do you think girls are pretty?" Riley asked Sidney, seeming genuinely curious at her mother's response.
Sidney noticed Tatum's interested expression and wondered if Tatum might read more into her response than Riley probably intended by the question. She attempted to side step, smiling.
"Of course I do. I think all three of my girls are pretty."
"Duh, Mom, you have to think that," Tatum exhaled, rolling her eyes again, as Riley just grinned, happy with the answer she'd received. "She means like, do you think other girls are pretty, like…like Aunt Gale or something?"
For a moment Sidney's thoughts flickered back in time to Gale's bare body in the hotel room a year before, thin, scarred, and vulnerable before her, and she had to be careful to keep her expression light as she responded.
"Sure I do. Aunt Gale is beautiful too. Just like you girls."
"Is she feeling better, Mom?" Tatum asked next; although Riley looked up to Gale as her namesake, it was Tatum who really seemed to admire her of Sidney's older daughters.
"She's getting better, honey," Sidney reassured her, even as Riley clamored.
"I want to see Aunt Gale too! Can we talk to Aunt Gale?"
"She's asleep, girls. She's still getting better, so she goes to bed early. And you girls need to be getting ready to sleep too," Sidney reminded them, just as Mark came up behind them, taking the phone from Tatum's hand.
"That's right, scoot off to bed," he told them, playfully tousling both girls' hair. "I'll come tuck you in soon, tell your mom good night."
"Good night!" the girls chorused, before Tatum started attempting to bargain with Mark about staying up just a little later, because she was older than Riley, it wasn't fair- the usual nightly argument. Sidney shook her head, almost able to recite it by now.
"Good night, girls. I love you. I'll see you soon."
As Mark turned the screen back to his own face, he blew Sidney a kiss. "Love you, honey. Good night."
"Good night," she returned, blowing him a kiss back. "I love you too."
She was still smiling, picturing the nightly ritual of Mark sitting in between Riley's and Tatum's beds, tucking them in and kissing them good night, when she heard a sharp, dismayed noise through the guest room walls. Standing, Sidney listened, waiting to see if it would repeat itself, and moments later, she heard another gasping cry without words.
Gale. Sidney wasn't sure if she was awake or asleep, but it didn't matter. She went to her immediately, giving one soft knock for courtesy on the other woman's bedroom door before pulling it open and going inside.
Gale's bedroom was brightly lit, something unsurprising to Sidney. She too disliked sleeping in the dark, not out of a matter of fear so much as out of practicality. After decades of being a target for murder, it was just sensible not to awaken without being able to see what was going on around herself. Gale had two lamps turned on as well as a nightlight, and Sidney could clearly see her in her queen-sized bed, her blanket and sheets kicked down and tangled around her waist. Gale was making gasping, moaning noises, her face pale, features working with distress, and although Sidney didn't see tears, she could hear sobbing noises coming from Gale's throat. She twitched and made feeble movements that looked like exhausted efforts at fighting or resistance, and watching her, Sidney's heart tugged again with empathy.
She knew that this was undoubtedly going to be a frequent nightly battle for Gale for some time; Dewey had told her once, long ago, how Gale and he both struggled with nightmares after each round of murder, and she had witnessed it herself on a few occasions even before Dewey's death. It must be far worse for Gale, living alone, staying in the same home she had nearly died inside of, than it was for Sidney with her daughters and Mark around as distracting, comforting buffers and ties to safer reality. Gale had to be exhausted, and it wasn't doing her injuries any good to even weakly move around blindly in sleep.
When Gale cried out again, then sputtered, seeming to struggle even in sleep to draw breath, Sidney quickly went to her side. This wasn't a dream she could ease her out of without waking her, that much was clear. Sitting on the edge of Gale's bed, she took hold of one grasping hand and enveloped it between both of hers, rubbing its clammy skin in an effort to warm her. When Gale gasped, trying to pull away and bucking her body as though to throw her off, Sidney twined her left hand in Gale's and reached for her face with her right, cupping her cheek.
"Hey, hey, shh. Shhh. It's okay, Gale, wake up, it's only a dream. Wake up, you're okay now, you're safe. Shhh, you're all right. Gale?"
She stroked her thumb over the sharp line of Gale's jaw and down her neck, feeling her pulse beating fast against her finger. Lifting her hand, she began to run her fingers over Gale's hair, still speaking softly.
"It's Sidney, Gale, you're home and in bed, you're safe, we're both safe. Open you eyes, look at me. You're okay."
When Gale's eyes finally opened, they were more vividly blue than usual, shimmery with her fear in the aftermath of her dream. They cleared slightly as they locked on Sidney's, and as she started to sit up, Sidney gently moved a hand to her uninjured shoulder to keep her down, ignoring the roughness of the healed scar tissue beneath her palm.
"It's okay, lay back and let yourself calm down. You've been moving around a lot, let's make sure you didn't hurt yourself."
The hand in Sidney's squeezed back, tight, its nails digging into the back of Sidney's hand, but Sidney didn't mind. She could feel Gale shaking beneath her touch and saw her eyes shift to the side, her jaw working in obvious effort to push down her feelings, and she moved the hand on Gale's shoulder back to her jaw, not in an attempt to stop its movement, but to wordlessly let Gale know that she noticed and understood her emotion, that she accepted it without judgment.
"Looks like a bad one," Sidney said to her softly, referring to her dream, and Gale nodded jerkily into her hand, her voice hoarse as she spoke.
"He…he had me. He had us both. He- he had you, and I had- I had to watch."
She said nothing further, and Sidney didn't force it from her. She could feel the warm tears dampening her palm where she still held Gale's face, and she gave her hand a last squeeze before dropping it, moving behind Gale's uninjured shoulder to carefully support her back.
"Can you sit up slowly? I'll help," she said quietly. "Come here."
Gale seemed reluctant to move, likely due to the pain it caused her, but Sidney was careful, checking her face frequently to see if she needed to stop or slow down. One hand on her back, her arm wrapped around her shoulders, she slowly eased Gale into a sitting position, stacking pillows behind her back to keep her propped up.
"May I check your bandages?" she asked, still giving Gale plenty of time to think and give consent before touching her in sensitive places that would not only hurt, but also potentially further trigger unwanted memories. She waited until Gale gave a slight nod, sucking in her cheeks, then gently lifted her shirt, checking her side. No blood had blossomed through, and when she checked her shoulder as well, it also seemed to be still held up as should be.
With this determined, Sidney sat on the edge of the bed beside Gale, reaching for her hand. She didn't intend to do more than this, wanting to give Gale continued space if she needed, but Gale reached to cover her hand with her free one, despite the pain the movement caused her, gripping Sidney's hand tightly in hers. Her blue eyes were still bright with tears that she attempted to blink back before she spoke.
"They…they kept talking about him," Gale murmured.
At first Sidney thought she was talking about her dream and squeezed her hand, nodding encouragement for her to continue if she wished, rather than in understanding. Gale soon corrected her misunderstanding.
"When they called me," Gale clarified, her voice a little louder, but shaking, tears back in her eyes, precariously close to falling. "In my apartment. The killers…they kept talking about Dewey."
"Oh, Gale," Sidney said softly, her heart wrenching for her. "Oh, Gale, I'm sorry."
Two tears slipped free, but Gale didn't pull her hands from Sidney to try to wipe them. She kept her eyes on Sidney's almost desperately, her knuckles whitening around Sidney's hand.
"They kept saying how he…how he died alone," she whispered. "How I wasn't there…I wasn't there to comfort him."
Tears overpowered her then, beyond any ability she possessed to keep back, and she clutched Sidney's hands, her thin shoulders visibly shaking even under the loose fit of her shirt. With care, Sidney pulled her hand from Gale's grasp, shushing her softly when Gale gasped a protest and tried to hold on. Taking heed of Gale's wound sites, she pulled her close against her chest, one arm wound around her waist, the other holding Gale's head against her shoulder. She spread her hand against Gale's back, a firm, grounding pressure, and rubbed her thumb lightly over the prominent ridge of her spine. Her other hand stroked Gale's dark hair as she spoke to her softly.
"Oh, Gale," she repeated, her mouth close to Gale's ear. "There was nothing you could have done. Dewey…he always had to be the hero, right to the end. That was one of the reasons we loved him. That was who he was."
She continued to hold her, stroking comfort into her as Gale sobbed, and noticed with concern how small the other woman felt to her then. She had noticed in the hospital Gale's weight loss, but it was even more obvious to her when she could feel the vertebrate of her back and the prominent hardness of her collarbone against herself.
"Dewey would never blame you for not being there, Gale," she said, resting her chin on top of Gale's head. "He would have wanted you as far away as possible, so you could be safe and protected. He always wanted that for you. He did what he felt was right, and he did it knowing the risk and accepting it. I don't know everything that happened between you two, or why things ended as they did, but I do know that Dewey loved you for almost as long as he knew you, and he never stopped. Never."
This triggered a fresh burst of crying from Gale, and Sidney waited it out, holding onto her, just being present until she could feel the other woman's body relax against her. She waited a few more moments, listening to Gale's breathing change from uneven and sniffling to something closer to normal, and gave her a light squeeze around the waist before starting to unwind herself from her. Easing Gale slowly back down, she pulled the blankets back up around her.
"Try to sleep," she told her. "I can stay until you do if you'd like."
She scooted herself back to the edge of the bed, giving Gale space, but Gale reached out the hand closest to her, resting it hesitantly on Sidney's wrist.
"Could you just stay?"
When Sidney looked her up and down, as though to assess and remind Gale of the severity of her injuries, Gale gave a short laugh, shaking her head.
"Not like that. Not like- before," she corrected, referencing their night together in the hotel in Woodsboro, almost a year ago. "Just…could you stay in here tonight. With me."
There was a trepidation and tension in her face that seemed to indicate it had taken courage for her to ask this of Sidney, or perhaps she thought Sidney would deny her. She wouldn't, of course. She never could, not if Gale needed, and certainly not if she asked.
Giving her a soft smile, Sidney pushed back the covers she had just tucked around Gale, lying down beside her. She reached for one of Gale's pillows and positioned it under her head, then reached for Gale's hand, entwining their fingers together. There was some space between them, enough that it must feel uncomfortable for her, but Gale tilted her head towards Sidney so it rested on Sidney's shoulder. Mindful of the discomfort she must feel, Sidney moved herself closer, their bodies in full contact, and took the hand holding Gale's to hold against her own chest, so Gale could feel the steady beating of her heart. They both fell asleep in this way, connected.
