"I'm really getting so fucking tired of all of these Ghostface attacks," Billy Loomis growled out a sigh as he ran his hand through his hair soaked with both sweat and blood. He and Sidney had just saved the new generation—Christina Carpenter's daughters Sam and Tara and Randy Meeks' nephew and niece, Chad and Mindy Meeks-Martin—from two new psychopaths looking to make their own movie, Amber Freeman and Sam's own boyfriend, Richie Kirsch.

"You're not the only one," Sidney replied. Her husband spared her a passing glance as he went to retrieve his knife from where it had been embedded into Richie's neck after he'd attacked him for attacking Sidney.

"Hope it feels good in Hell," Billy sneered at Richie's corpse, punctuating his taunt with a kick.

"You didn't have to do that," Sidney stated, witnessing the kick.

"He didn't have to attack my wife, but the little fuckrag did it anyway," her husband retorted, sheathing his knife. "I wish I'd done more than just fucking stab him in the neck. I should have it tattooed on me: 'Go after Sidney Prescott-Loomis and I'll gut you until your insides fall out.'"

Sidney affectionately rolled her eyes. "I appreciate your protectiveness over me," she said.

Billy flashed a smirk at her. "It only took you twenty-five years," he teased.

"Oh, shut up. You know I've always appreciated your protectiveness, you absolute maniac."

Billy laughed.

Sidney winced, hunching over slightly as her hand gently touched the area in which Richie had managed to stab her. Before Billy appeared behind him, Richie had her pinned against the kitchen island and took his opportunity while she had nothing to defend her with, stabbing her in the stomach. Although her husband was usually good at detecting and taking care of her wounds, he'd missed this one, likely due to the rage that had overwhelmed him when he saw the position she'd been in.

'Tell him,' one part of herself whispered. 'You know that he won't be happy that you kept a stab wound, of all injuries, quiet.'

'I'll be fine for now,' another, more stubborn part insisted. 'I'll tell him after we finish checking on the kids. This is about them, not me.'

'You were stabbed!'

"You alright, Princess?"

Sidney looked up to see Billy standing right in front of her now, staring at her with concern.

"Yeah," Sidney answered, managing to straighten up a bit but unable to hide the flinch.

Billy frowned. There was suspicion in his eyes now as well as concern. "Bullshit," he scoffed. "Tell me the truth."

"I am telling you the truth," she lied.

Billy growled and stepped forward, ready to argue further when the bottom of his black combat boot came into contact with something slick. With trepidation coursing through his veins, he looked down to see a small pool of blood lying at his feet, blood that trailed up to Sidney…

Eyes widening in horror, Billy's head snapped back up to stare at his wife. "You're fucking bleeding??" He questioned. "What the fuck happened???"

Knowing now that she can't explain it away, Sidney answered him, her face ashen and clammy now with blood loss, "Richie stabbed me before you got him."

"And you didn't think to tell me????"

"I'm sorry," she rasped out before her knees buckled and she was collapsing onto the floor to desperate cries of her name, black spots swirling behind her eyes.

Sidney awoke a few hours later in a hospital room, blinking through bleary eyes to see Billy, wide awake, staring at her.

"Hey," Sidney croaked.

"Hey," he murmured, gently stroking her hand with his thumb. "Welcome back, baby."

"Welcome…back…?" She asked, staring quizzically at him.

"Your stab wound was deep," he evenly said, though she knew him well to hear the fear, concern, and irritation all carefully hidden beneath the surface. "You lost a lot of blood and they…" He took in a deep breath and slowly exhaled to calm his nerves. "They lost you once during surgery. Your heart stopped for three minutes, Sidney."

Sidney gulped. Three minutes. The brain could only survive for four to six minutes without oxygen once the heart stops; anything beyond that was irreparable brain damage. If she'd been under for three minutes, then she really had been in dangerous territory.

"Billy…" She trailed softly.

"I thought we agreed that we wouldn't hide injuries from each other again," Billy said. His jaw was clenched and his body was tense, yet the hand holding hers was still gentle.

Sidney looked down guiltily.

"You're always telling me to let you know whenever I get hurt by one of these second-rate fuckers and yet here I am…sitting next to your hospital bed as you get treated for a stab wound that you hid from me," his voice was rising steadily and she could see just how much restraint he was utilizing to not just let it boom all over the place.

"I know," Sidney murmured, her heart aching as she saw the pain beneath the anger in his eyes. She gently squeezed his hand and he returned the comforting gesture. "I'm so sorry."

Billy sighed, scrubbing the side of his face down with his free hand. "Why would you do that?" He asked, resigned now.

Sidney sighed. "I was thinking about Sam, Tara, Chad, and Mindy. Those kids just went through something that they never should have had to go through in their entire lives and all I was thinking about was trying to help them. I know that I was foolish, but I guess by hiding my injury, we could focus more on them and less on me," she admitted.

Billy groaned. "Sid, you have got to stop with this self-sacrificing thing you have going on," he scolded her.

"I'm not self-sacrificing—"

"Yes, you have!" Billy interjected. "You've been this way since I first met you: always selfless, always the first to handle something so everyone else won't have to deal with it. Don't get me wrong, baby, it's part of you and I love you for it, but it's also what frustrates me so much. You got stabbed in the stomach by that asshole and you didn't say anything because you wanted to make sure that the kids were okay. You could have died—hell, you did die—to focus on how the kids were feeling."

"They were hurt, too," Sidney said.

"Yes, they were," Billy acquiesced. "But they didn't hide their injuries from anyone. You did."

"I'm sorry," she apologized again.

Billy brought her hand up to his mouth as far as the tubes attached to her would let him and pressed a gentle kiss to her palm and then five equally gentle kisses in rapid succession to her fingers. Then he rested it on his cheek and stared deeply into her eyes. "Please don't do that to me again," he pleaded. "I don't care how selfish it makes you look. Please let me know whenever you get hurt…losing you for those three minutes made me feel like I was going to lose my mind. I can't lose you for good; I wouldn't be able to survive." His stare was earnest, passionate…he truly loved his wife and losing her forever would push him over the edge he'd been hovering over for the last twenty-five years.

"Okay," Sidney said.

"Promise me."

"I promise I won't hide my injury from you again."

"Good."

The couple stayed there in the silence of Sidney's hospital room, enjoying the peace they managed to find among the bloody chaos of the night's events.