Archive of Our Own

They didn't talk about the kiss.

She knew that they probably should; after all, two best friends didn't normally just kiss each other out of nowhere, but she figured that the average pair of best friends didn't normally drive off into the sunset like fucking Thelma and Louise together, either, and considering that she and Sidney were quite literally doing that at that very moment, then she could just go ahead and toss any notion of what was “normal” right out the goddamn window.

(Unlike Thelma and Louise, she was at least pretty sure that they weren't going to drive off a cliff. At least, she hoped they weren't going to)

Besides, there was plenty else that they weren't talking about. Like the fact that they had been driving for eight hours without deciding on where they were actually driving to. Like the fact that the sun really was setting, casting deep golden rays onto the hood of the Bug that kept threatening to blind her even through the protection of her knock-off Ray Bans.

Like the fact that Sidney's hand had been casually resting on her thigh ever since they pulled out of that gas station about 70 miles back.

(She was really trying not to focus too much on that last one)

She glanced down at the clock on her dash after a few more minutes, realizing that the sun had hit a point where it wasn't so much setting as it was just peeking up teasingly over the horizon. “Sid?”

She felt the hand on her thigh shift a little, fingers gripping for a moment before relaxing again. “Hmm?”

Tatum nodded towards the clock. “Unless you want to switch off and drive on through the night, we should probably find a place to pull over and rest a while.”

“Jesus, is it really that late?”

Another shift of the hand on her thigh, this time resulting in its absence entirely as Sidney stretched her arms as high over her head as she could, the tight interior of the Bug hindering a full stretch. Tatum missed her hand instantly, biting her tongue so that she didn't ask her to put it back, to please put it back.

“Yeah,” she managed to say instead. “The day just got away from us, I guess.”

“Guess so.” Sidney shifted in her seat, sitting up a little straighter. “Any idea where we're at? I can see if those travel books that Dewey gave you say anything about hotels in the area.”

Tatum squinted at the signs in the distance, just barely able to make them out in the dying light. “I think that says that Bakersfield is like, 20 miles away?”

“Mmm,” Sidney hummed. She leaned over and opened the glove compartment, shuffling through the stacks of travel brochures that Dewey had stuffed in there earlier that morning-

(You're not going to just drive on out of here without at least a map, Tatum. Shut up and just take them and thank me later)

-pulling out one emblazoned with “Bakersfield.” “Give me a minute, and I should be able to find something, I think.”

“Alright,” Tatum replied. She kept her eyes on the road, both hands on the wheel, and waited while Sidney flipped through the brochure.

(Her thigh still burned where her hand had been. God, what if there was a handprint actually there? What if-)

“Okay,” Sidney said a few moments later. “I think there should be a motel a few miles up the road. Little place called “The Mosey-On Inn.” Tatum couldn't help but snort at that, and Sidney held up her hand in a preemptive waving off of the jokes already perched on the tip of Tatum's tongue. “Yeah, I know, it sounds really, really lame, but it's either that or driving into the city itself, which I personally don't feel like doing, do you?”

Tatum thought about it for a moment before shaking her head. “No, not really.”

“Then I guess you'll just have to settle for moseying on in to the Mosey-On Inn.”

“You're going to be insufferable about that pun, aren't you?”

Sidney just laughed.

The Mosey-On Inn wasn't too bad, even if it had the corniest name in all of existence.

Tatum wasn't about to admit that, though. Especially not when Sidney made another “moseying-on in” joke while they were lugging their suitcases through the main entrance. And especially not when the little old lady behind the front desk made the same exact joke when they walked up to her.

Tatum let Sidney do the talking from that point on. She might have mellowed out in the past few months, but she didn't really trust herself to not be snarky to that lady who, she knew deep down, was nice and sweet and couldn't help being so, so lame. Instead, she just stood there next to Sidney and kept a smile on her face that she hoped didn't seem too bitchy.

A few minutes and $60 (that she definitely didn't grumble about under her breath) later, she and Sidney had keys to a room with two double beds, a shower, and a coffee maker that looked like it had been in use since Nixon was elected.

(Sidney had laughed at that last comment, and the sound made butterflies flutter in her stomach again)

There was also a deadbolt that Sidney made sure to flip the moment that the door had shut. Tatum had to fight back the urge to double-check that it was properly latched.

They shoved their suitcases to the side before they both collapsed; Sidney onto the bed closest to the door, Tatum on the one next to it after a moment of hesitation.

(Can we still share beds? Are we supposed to? What are we what are we what are)

She laid there for a long moment, her face pressed almost fully against the mattress, as she tried to let herself relax. Her muscles were tight, she knew, and her shoulder ached and her side ached and she was getting really sick of always aching and-

“I know you did all the driving, so why the hell do I feel like I've been running a marathon?” Sidney asked, and Tatum couldn't help but chuckle.

“Beats me. I didn't know that being a passenger was such hard work. I guess it makes sense, though. It really exerts a lot of energy to turn the pages of that map, after all.”

Sidney reached for a pillow and tossed it at her. “Bitch.”

Tatum batted away the pillow before it hit her. “You know it, babe.”

(Shit, can I still call her babe?)

Silence settled between them after that. Tatum wanted to break that silence; wanted to ask the million questions that were brimming beneath the surface, wanted to ask none of them, but she didn't. Instead, she just lay there, her head tilted ever-so-slightly in Sidney's direction as she waited for....well. She didn't really know what she was waiting for.

(She wondered if Sidney was waiting, too)

A few minutes. A few minutes more.

She took a breath and started to open her mouth, unsure of what she was going to say.

“Wanna do something stupid?”

She turned her head to the right a little more so that she could look at Sidney. “What?”

Sidney shrugged. “I said, do you want to do something stupid?”

“I think you're going to have to give me a little more information than that, Sid. Don't know if you know this, but my “doing stupid shit” days are more or less behind me.”She watched a shadow flit across Sidney's face and felt a pang of guilt deep in her chest. “I mean, I-”

Sidney waved her off. “Are you allowed to swim?”

“Am I allowed to swim?”

“Yeah, you know. Did the doctors clear you for swimming? I know that when you have a wound, you're supposed to wait a while before-”

Tatum cocked a brow, lifting herself up on her elbow so that Sidney could see the incredulity written on her face. “Sid, it's been months. I don't just have like, open wounds anymore. You know that, right?”

Sidney shrugged again. “I'm just checking, okay? Besides, you still haven't answered me.”

Tatum stared at her for a moment, trying to read her features but finding it near-impossible to do so. “I...would assume that I'm fine to swim?”

“Awesome. Then I repeat: do you want to do something stupid?”

(There's a lot that I want to do, Tatum thought, biting her lip so that she didn't actually respond as such)

“Sure,” she answered.

For a small roadside motel, The Mosey-On Inn had a lot of amenities that Tatum was surprised to find.

There was an ironing board hidden in a little cabinet next to the microwave with a matching iron tucked beneath the bathroom sink. There was a hairdryer tucked down there, too, along with extra toothbrushes, tiny shampoos, and a disposable shower cap.

Oh, and there was a swimming pool. The paint was peeling in places, and the ladder going into the deep end seemed a little rusty, but the water was surprisingly clear.

(They conveniently chose to ignore the “No Swimming After Dusk” sign zip-tied to the gate on their way in)

Tatum stood at the shallow end, kicking off her flip-flop so she could dip her toe in. She shivered, glancing over her shoulder at Sidney. “It's cold, Sid.”

Sidney walked over to her, kneeling down to dip her hand into the water. She lifted her hand back out and shook it off, looking up at Tatum with a bemused expression. “It's a motel, not the Four Seasons, Tate. I doubt that the owners felt like paying to heat it.”

Tatum looked down at her, crossing her arms across her chest. “You really expect me to get into a cold pool?"

Sidney straightened, flicking the last droplets of water from her wrist. “I don't expect you to do anything, Tatum. We can go back inside right now and forget the whole thing.” She moved a little closer to Tatum, her hand reaching out to rest lightly on her elbow. She squeezed it in a way that Tatum assumed was meant to be reassuring, but instead caused a wholly different wave of nervousness to wash over her. “Okay?”

Tatum forced herself to not glance down at Sidney's hand, keeping her eyes steady on the water instead. “Okay.”

Sidney squeezed her elbow again before she dropped her hand. “Want to go back inside? We can order a pizza and just veg.”

Tatum shook her head. “No, I-” A shadow in the corner of the fenced-in pool area caught her attention, and she froze for a moment before realizing it was just the reflection of the water moving in the glow of the pool's lights. When she finally looked away, she found that Sidney was staring at the same place she had been, her hand resting on the pocket of her shorts.

“No need to alert the cavalry,” Tatum said, trying to keep her tone light. “Just a trick of the light.”

Sidney made a small noise, but didn't move.

Tatum reached out and let her fingers curl around Sidney's wrist. “You can't pepper-spray a reflection, babe.” She let her thumb rub gently against the hollow of her wrist, hoping that it was reassuring. “I mean, I guess you can, but the likelihood of it being effective is kinda slim to none, so...”

Sidney finally tore her eyes away from the corner, the tension in her arm relaxing as she let her hand drop down to her side. “Maybe this really is a bad idea. I mean, Jesus, what the hell was I thinking? Swimming in the middle of the night at a motel outside of Bakersfield?”

Tatum let her hand fall away.“I don't think it counts as the middle of the night yet, Sid. It's like, 9:30.”

Sidney shot her a look, but it lacked any bite so Tatum didn't worry too much about it. “This is like, the least safe thing we could do.”

Tatum shrugged. “Yeah, probably.” She paused. “And that's why we should do it anyway.”

Sidney turned her head, looking at her incredulously. “What?”

Another reflection in another corner, and Tatum fought the urge to glance over again. She hoped that Sidney didn't notice that the hair on her arms was standing up. “Look, we can either live our lives terrified of fucking ghosts or we can get in the damn pool and try to be normal again.”

Sidney's gaze dropped down a little, a far-away look in her eyes that Tatum couldn't track. “I don't think we ever will be normal again, Tate.”

“Probably not. But we can at least try to “get back in the swing of things”, right?”

She meant it as a joke; Sidney had heard her complain about her mother's choice of words before, had agreed with her that it had gotten to be a bit much and laughed with her when she had made more than one sick joke about it. But Sidney wasn't laughing now.

Tatum started to reach back out, unsure if she was going to grip her wrist or try and hold her hand, but stopped a few inches short and let her hand fall back to her side. “Sidney?”

Sidney let out a heavy sigh before she finally lifted her eyes, that far-away look remaining even as she met Tatum's gaze. “Sorry. Just...”

“Seeing ghosts?”

Sidney nodded. “Something like that.”

Tatum fought the urge to reach out and cup her face; to hold Sidney close and never let her go. Instead, she nodded back and shifted her weight to lessen the pressure on her right side. “We can go back inside, babe. We'll try this again some other time.”

“No,” Sidney said. She looked down at the pool and shook her head. “No, let's do it now. You're right. It's a fucking pool. Billy and Stu aren't going to materialize out of nowhere. They're dead. They're dead, and I want to fucking swim.”

Tatum felt her heart lift at the determination she saw written across Sidney's face; the thinly-veiled fire in her voice. “You sure?”

Another nod, and then Sidney was kicking off her own flip-flops. “Fuck ghosts.” Her hands reached for her shorts, nimble fingers unbuttoning them before she let them drop to the ground. Tatum let herself follow suit, her own shorts falling to the ground a moment later. She kicked them a few feet away, not wanting to risk the possibility of splashing them. When she turned back, she realized that Sidney had started to pull her shirt off, and, for one of the first times in her life, Tatum found that she wasn't sure if she was supposed to be watching.

It wasn't like it was anything she hadn't seen before. She and Sidney had had the same gym class since elementary school, and had changed in front of each other countless times before. But they hadn't that night; Tatum had changed into her swimming suit in the bathroom while Sidney changed in the bedroom, and Sidney was standing in front of her in a powder blue two-piece that she had never seen her wear before, and Jesus, she was no better than Stu when-

(The thud of a body hitting against the locker next to hers. “Don't I get to see you for a few seconds? Don't I Don't I Don't-”)

“See something you like?” she heard Sidney say, and she forced herself to blink away the vestiges of Stu before her eyes snapped up to see Sidney looking at her with something akin to bemusement. There was something else there too, though; something that felt a little like the way that her own heart was skipping a beat and she wondered for the millionth time that day just what the hell they were doing.

“Just checking out your suit,” she found herself saying, her voice somehow not betraying the butterflies that had reawakened deep in her stomach. “Is it new?”

“Picked it up at Delia's a while back. Cute, right?” Sidney nodded her head towards her. “Going to join me, or just gawk?”

“I'm not gawking,” she grumbled, trying to ignore how her cheeks had started to burn and praying that it was too dark for Sidney to see her embarrassment. She looked away from Sidney altogether, then, and reached for the hem of her own shirt.

It wasn't until she had started to lift it up that she realized that Sidney, despite being her constant companion at the doctors and the physical therapists and everywhere else the past few months, hadn't actually seen everything. She had seen the scar on her arm, of course- that was more or less unavoidable. But the jagged crescent that curved along her shoulder-blade? Or the gnarled gash in her side? She had been careful to not let Sidney see those.

(A roaring in her ears. White-hot fire. Sidney? Sidney not Sidney not)

“Tate?” she heard Sidney say, and she heard the concern in her voice; heard the slight tinge of panic, and she wondered what expression was on her own face that sparked such a response.

“I...” she began, suddenly all-too-aware of how tightly her fingers were curled around the hem of her shirt. It was tight enough for her to actually feel the fabric-something she hadn't been able to do all that well ever since the nerve in her shoulder had been more or less severed.

“Do you...do you need help, Tate? I'm sorry, I never thought to ask if you could lift your arm like that, I...”

She shook her head quickly. Too quickly. “No, I can do it. I just...” She blinked, and some of the static dissipated, taking the fuzziness at the edges of her vision with it. She blinked again, and tried to avoid the stare that she knew was being aimed at her. “You...uhm. You haven't seen me, Sidney.”

“I haven't seen you?” There was confusion in Sidney's voice, and Tatum bit her lip so she didn't laugh because Christ, there was nothing funny, nothing was funny at all, and-

“You haven't seen what he did, babe,” she managed to say.

“Oh.”

There was silence for a moment, and then she felt a hand rest over hers. She allowed herself to finally lift her gaze, her eyes settling on Sidney's face. There was a tenderness there that she wasn't used to seeing, and she felt her chest tighten as she realized that Sidney had started to gently lift her shirt up.

“I don't have to look if you don't want me to,” Sidney said softly. The hem of her shirt brushed against her stomach, pausing there as Sidney hesitated. “But you don't need to hide them from me anymore, Tatum.”

A soft rubbing of Sidney's thumb against the skin that had become exposed, and Tatum felt her muscles twitch in a way that had her wanting Sidney to do it again and again.

“Can I take this off the rest of the way?” Sidney asked in that soft, soft voice, and she couldn't stop herself from nodding.

A pause, and then the shirt lifted higher, the gently-frayed hem brushing against the still-sensitive edges of her scar. Sidney's eyes didn't leave hers even as the hem rose higher, exposing the scar fully.

“Lift your arms?” Sidney asked, and Tatum obeyed, lifting her arms high enough for Sidney to be able to pull the shirt off over her head. She noted how careful Sidney was as she did, her motions obvious in their care so as to not pull Tatum's arm in a way that would cause her pain. She was thankful for that because, even eight months later, her shoulder still ached if someone did so much as just happen to brush against it.

And then Sidney was letting her shirt drop to the ground and Tatum fought the urge to cover her side; to hide the reality of what Billy had left her with from the girl who had had so much stripped away by him. Instead, she let her arms fall loosely to her sides, mindful of the fact that Sidney still hadn't looked away from her face.

(God, I want to kiss you again, she thought)

“Something in my teeth?” she joked, and Sidney cracked a smile as she shook her head.

“Always the smartass.” Sidney turned a little and gestured towards the pool. “Shall we?”

“Might as well,” Tatum replied. She took a step towards the pool, sitting on the edge gingerly so that she could dip her legs in first. “Otherwise someone might see us and think we were doing a dry run for the Miss America pageant or something.”

“Couldn't have that,” Sidney mused, and then there was a flurry of movement to Tatum's right and a deep splash as Sidney jumped into the pool. The spray flew up into Tatum's face, and she sputtered as Sidney resurfaced a moment later.

“You ass!” she yelled, remembering too late that they technically weren't supposed to be out there. She glanced over her shoulder towards the motel to make sure that no one was paying attention before turning back towards Sidney, who beamed up at her from the water. “You got me wet!” she hissed, using the back of her hand to wipe beads of water off her forehead.

“That's kind of the whole point, Tatum,” Sidney replied. She floated towards her, slowly rotating as she let the water move her. “Now, are you going to mosey-on in to the pool, or are you going to just sit there and watch me have more fun than you?”

Tatum rolled her eyes at her pun and gave a little half-shrug. “Who said that watching you wasn't fun?”

(Oh, that was definitely too much)

Sidney's brow arched, and even though it was dark, Tatum was able to see a hint of a blush form on her cheeks. “Oh? Is that your idea of fun now?”

(Shit)

“Maybe.” Tatum leaned forward a little, biting her lip so she didn't wince at the way her skin pulled tight across her stomach. “Maybe not.”

A small smirk played on Sidney's lips, a playfulness that was reflected in her eyes. “If I threatened to splash you again, would you get in the damn pool?”

Tatum shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

“How about if I offer to help you in?” Sidney floated a little closer, her hand outstretched so that her fingers just barely grazed against Tatum's knee.

(Shit)

Tatum took a deep breath and tilted her head to the side so that it seemed as if she were deep in thought. “You know, that might do it, yeah.”

Sidney's smirk faded into a genuine smile. “Yeah?”

She nodded, letting her right hand slip carefully into Sidney's waiting hand. “Yeah.”

She felt Sidney's fingers close around hers and allowed herself to be gently pulled forward, her body sinking slowly into the waiting water.

It wasn't very deep- she could, at least, stand easily- but it was cold. So much colder than she really thought it would be, especially as it washed over her stomach and chest. Cold, and wet, and slick as it surrounded her.

(Slick as blood.)

“Tate?”

(So much blood)

A hand on her face brought her back; drew the image of Sidney's expression of concern back into focus. She blinked, and realized that she had pulled her hand out of Sidney's grasp; had pulled it away to clutch her side, her palm tight against the place where the knife had slid deep inside of her

(Twisting)

and-

“Tatum?”

“I...” She looked down at her hand, then back up at Sidney. “Sorry, I...”

“Are you hurt? I'm sorry, I didn't think it would hurt, but-”

She shook her head quickly. “I'm not hurt.” She tasted the words as she spoke them, trying to decide if they were true. “I'm not hurt,” she repeated, her voice a little firmer.

“Then what-”

“More ghosts.” Her hand tightened around her scar as she let out a bitter laugh. “I never believed in the fucking things, and now I'm fucking haunted.”

She heard a soft hum, and then felt the steady rhythm of Sidney's thumb gently rubbing her cheekbone. She considered fighting the urge to lean into her palm, but decided that if she was fucked anyway, she might as well give in to at least some of her desires.

And besides, Sidney was warm.

“Maybe we should hire an exorcist,” she murmured, letting her eyes close as she felt Sidney's other hand settle carefully on her hip, just below where her own hand remained tight against her scar. “Know any priests? I think we need an old one and a young one.”

She felt Sidney stiffen, and when she wasn't met with any sort of retort, she opened her eyes to see a pained look on Sidney's face, that far-away look in her eyes again.

“Sid?”

Sidney shook her head, her hand tightening a little around Tatum's hip. “Sorry. Just...not a huge fan of The Exorcist.”

She considered questioning it, but she knew that look. She knew that look, and so she nodded and sighed softly. “Fucking ghosts.”

“Yeah.”

Tatum let herself sink back into Sidney's palm, closing her eyes for a long moment before she re-opened them and looked at her again. “Sid?”

There were shadows dancing across Sidney's face, the lights embedded in the pool's wall casting shifting reflections that obscured the finer details that Tatum had become accustomed to searching for. “Yeah?”

“I-” She paused, unsure of entirely what she wanted to say. “This morning, I-”

The look on Sidney's face shifted again, and Tatum saw a flash of panic in her eyes before it was carefully hidden behind the blank wall that she had gotten so good at erecting. “We don't have to talk about it,” Sidney said, pulling her hand away from Tatum's face.

Tatum let her hand leave her side just in time for her to grab Sidney's other hand before she could pull that one away, too. “Stay.”

She could tell that Sidney wanted to run, but she didn't let her; couldn't let her. Instead, she wrapped her hand around Sidney's a little tighter, and lifted it slowly until Sidney's palm was pressed just below her scar. Any higher, and her fingertips would be brushing against it.

For a moment, Tatum considered lifting them higher.

“Don't you go second-guessing yourself, Prescott,” she said softly. “Not on my account, at least.”

“But-”

“Shut up, would you?” Tatum looked at her, trying to mask her nerves with exasperation. “I'm trying to say something, and you keep interrupting.”

Sidney glared at her, but the fire didn't reach her eyes and so she took it as permission to keep going.

Tatum reached out with her unattended hand and settled it hesitantly on Sidney's hip. “Anyway, like I was saying, this morning, I was a little caught up in the moment and didn't really want to break the spell or whatever. But I've had this question bouncing around in my head all day, and I think it's time that I actually ask it, before I go fucking insane.” She tilted her head, considering. “Well, more insane, I guess.”

Sidney's brows furrowed for a moment before her expression evened out again. “And what question would that be?”

(Here goes nothing)

Tatum felt her mouth go dry, and she tightened her grasp on both Sidney's hand and her hip. “Can I please kiss you again?”

She watched as Sidney's eyes widened, her lips forming around the “oh” that barely reached Tatum's ears.

(Shit)

Tatum started to pull away, letting go of Sidney's hand and her hip so that she could float away. “Sorry, I-”

“Shut up,” Sidney said, and then she was being pulled back, Sidney's hand clasped tightly around hers as the other reached up to tangle in her hair.

And then Sidney's lips were dancing so, so close to hers and she waited and waited for them to move just an inch closer. And waited.

And waited.

Tatum swallowed thickly, all-too-aware of the hands on her body and the beating of her heart just beneath her ribs, and she met Sidney's eyes, knowing how confused she looked. “What are you waiting for?” she whispered, feeling the heat of her own breath reflecting back onto her.

The hand in her hair tightened a bit as a smirk played on Sidney's lips. “You didn't ask if I could kiss you again.”

“Oh,” she said, and then she leaned forward the rest of the way, closing her eyes just as their lips met.

Their kiss was soft at first, just as soft as the ones they had exchanged in the Bug earlier that day, but there was a fire burning in Tatum's chest that was quickly suffusing through her body that made her want to keep kissing Sidney because nothing else made her feel like this.

Nothing else made her feel so alive.

She felt Sidney let go of her hand and she took advantage of it, reaching up so that she could hold Sidney's face to hers, her fingers pushing back strands of damp hair. Sidney leaned into her palm, humming contentedly as she kissed her again. And again. And again.

The softness of their kiss slowly began to give way to something a little hungrier; something that left Tatum's head swimming and her breathing a little heavier.

Her other hand found Sidney's hip again and she drew her closer, their bodies almost pressed together. She let herself float back just enough that she could feel the slight up-turn of the pool's floor, the rough concrete wall scratching the areas of her back that her bikini didn't cover. She was thankful that they were still in the shallower end of the pool so that she didn't need to worry about hitting her shoulder against the wall. There were plenty of other things she would rather be worrying about, after all.

Like the fact that her lungs were burning and she really needed to take a proper breath soon but fuck she didn't want to part from Sidney for even that long.

(I'm not losing you again)

Sidney broke before she did, pulling back just enough to take a heaving breath. Tatum let herself follow suit, leaning forward just enough to press her forehead against Sidney's as she let the air fill her lungs.

“I've waited for you to do that all damn day, Riley,” Sidney said breathlessly. She took another breath, and Tatum felt the hand on her hip rise a little higher. Dangerously higher.

She tried to ignore how Sidney's fingers were dancing just below her scar and instead let her thumb run over Sidney's cheekbone, relishing in the way that Sidney leaned into her touch. “You could have easily just kissed me yourself, Sid.”

Fingertips pressing into her stomach. The soft scratching of nails against her scalp. “I already did that this morning, remember?”

“Oh, I remember.” Tatum let her other hand move a little, slipping over Sidney's hip so that her fingers could carefully press against the small of her back. “I remember kissing you back, too.”

“Yeah, well, emotions were high. And I didn't want to assume anything.” Sidney pulled her head back just enough to shoot Tatum a bemused glance. “Though, based on the fact that you're basically about to grab my ass, I guess I could have just assumed, huh?”

“Excuse you. My hand is nowhere near your ass.” Tatum pressed her fingers a little more firmly against Sidney's spine, rubbing gently. “See?”

“Oh yeah, definitely nowhere near it,” Sidney remarked. Her own hand moved, then, and Tatum couldn't stop herself from flinching a little when she felt her brush against the edge of her scar. Sidney froze, her eyes growing wide with the realization of where her hand had settled. She pulled it back just as quickly, and Tatum felt the lingering warmth of her handprint turn ice-cold as the water washed back over it. “Shit, Tate, I'm sorry, I-”

(Not losing you not again not again)

“It's okay,” Tatum said, holding her tighter so that she couldn't completely pull away. She took a small breath and tried to focus on the hand still curled loosely in her hair, tethering her to the moment. “Just surprised me is all.”

She watched Sidney begin to glance down before lifting her eyes back up to Tatum's face. “I didn't know how far down it....I'm sorry.”

Tatum shook her head and stroked her thumb over her cheek again, trying to reassure her. “Babe, it's okay.” She leaned in a little, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of Sidney's mouth, then another to her cheek as her other hand continued to rub gently against her back. “You didn't hurt me. I'm just not used to other people....well. You know.”

She leaned back and saw Sidney start to glance down again, stopping herself before her gaze could even hit the water. “Babe?”

Sidney's eyes shot back up, guilt written across her face. “Sorry.”

“It's okay. You can look.”

Her eyes fell down, her gaze looking anywhere but at Tatum. “What? No, I-”

“Sidney.” Tatum waited for her to look back up at her, her chest aching when she saw the nervous regret in her eyes. “It's a part of me. It's not a part that I particularly like, but it is, unfortunately, permanent. And I...I don't want to keep trying to hide parts of myself from you. I've spent years hiding things from you, and I'm tired of it.”

“I...” Sidney closed her eyes for a moment, her head leaning forward so that the damp strands of her hair pressed against Tatum's forehead. “Okay.” She pulled back, letting her hand fall out of Tatum's hair, letting herself float backwards just far enough away that Tatum's hand fell away from her face too. Tatum considered pulling her back so that she could hold her close again, so that she could kiss her again, but she decided to reach out for her hand instead; the hand that Sidney held by her side like it would betray her at any moment. She folded her hand around it carefully, squeezing it gently before moving to rest her palm on the back of Sidney's hand.

“May I?” she asked, and Sidney nodded, her eyes never leaving hers.

Tatum took a small breath, trying to loosen the tightness in her chest before she began to lift their hands higher. Much, much higher, until she couldn't keep her hand on top of Sidney's any longer without pulling the muscles in her shoulder any tighter than she could handle. She saw the questions in Sidney's eyes, but she shook her head quietly before letting her hand slide down Sidney's arm. She tilted her head to the right, wordlessly gesturing for Sidney to continue her path upwards. Sidney obeyed, her hand coming to rest on her right shoulder before pausing.

“Gently, if you can,” Tatum whispered, flexing her left hand against the small of Sidney's back again. Trying not to grip too tightly. “It's more sensitive than the others.”

Sidney glanced at the hand on Tatum's shoulder, then looked back at her, worried. “I don't want to hurt you, Tate...”

“You won't.”

She watched as Sidney's lips parted again, the desire to say something else evident, but they closed again as she nodded. A moment later, she felt careful fingertips slip over her shoulder, moving down slowly.

(Tearing)

A fingertip at the very edge of the crescent. She closed her eyes and tried to control her breathing, grounding herself in the feeling of Sidney's skin beneath her own fingertips. In the scent of the chlorine and the cool of the water. The fingertip paused once more, but after she nodded, it began moving down again, tracing over the uneven edges. Each touch sent weak tingles through Tatum's arm, the nerves never quite firing correctly.

“My arm was the first,” she heard herself saying, her voice hollow in her ears. “But you've already seen that one.”

“This was the second?” Sidney asked, and she nodded. The tracing ended just below her shoulder-blade, and she felt as Sidney's hand moved a little further down, splaying across the middle of her back.

“Yeah.”

(Tearing. White-hot agony)

She took another deep breath in and let it out slowly. Sidney's touch. Sidney's skin beneath her fingertips. Sidney. “Yeah, it was the second.” She pulled back a little and held out her hand, waiting for Sidney to move her hand back around so that she could rest her own hand over it again. She lowered both of their hands slowly, pressing Sidney's palm to her ribs. Lower.

“This was the third,” she said as Sidney's touch met the top of the scar. She heard a sharp intake of breath as she let go of Sidney's hand, letting her explore on her own. “Third and last.”

(I'm going to gut her next, gut her next, gut her gut her gut her gut)

“He....Jesus, Tatum,” Sidney whispered, her hand moving along the entire length of the scar. Left to right. Her touch was warm, so, so warm. “Jesus.”

“Definitely made it so that my public bikini-wearing days are pretty much over. Current company excluded, obviously.”

Sidney looked down and Tatum followed her gaze, taking in the sight of puckered pink shining against the pale white of her stomach. The water distorted it some, but it wasn't enough to lessen its testimony of the length of the knife that had twisted inside of her. Of Billy's savagery. Of his hate.

“It looks a lot better than it did a few months ago,” she said, unsure of why she was trying to make light of it but hoping that it would at least cause Sidney to look back up at her. “It's not red anymore, and it doesn't have the same angry-look that it did for a while there, and...”

And Sidney had finally looked back up at her and there were tears in her eyes as she reached for Tatum, pulling her close and holding her as she kissed her. A small noise of surprise died in Tatum's throat as her lips parted just ever-so-slightly, tasting salt as she kissed Sidney back.

“Jesus,” she felt Sidney whisper against her, and she couldn't help but nod even if she wasn't completely sure what the comment was referring to. It didn't matter. Not when Sidney was kissing her again.

“I'm still here,” she found herself whispering against Sidney. A breath, and then another kiss. “I'm still here.”

Sidney nodded, her hand deep in Tatum's hair, holding her close as she kissed her again. Another breath.“I know. Fuck, I know.” She let out a choked laugh. “Nothing can keep you Rileys down for long.”

“Damn straight.” Tatum started to lean back in to kiss her once more, then paused. “Shit.”

“What?” Sidney pulled back, sudden concern shining in her eyes. “What's wrong?”

She shook her head, sighing. “We forgot to call Dewey.”

Sidney looked at her for a long moment before a relieved smile spread across her face. “Guess that's as good of a reason as any to get out of the pool, huh?”

“Yeah, if only to make sure the he doesn't drag his stupid ass down here to come find us.” She thought for a moment. “Actually, knowing him, he might have already put out an APB.”

Sidney started to laugh, then stopped, her forehead wrinkling as she considered Tatum's words. “Yeah, okay, definitely time to get out of the pool.”

“Oh yeah.” Tatum drifted out of Sidney's arms, reaching for her hand as she let herself float towards the ladder at the other end of the pool. The motion made her realize that, even though they had been in the water for god knows how long, they hadn't really swam.

That was okay, though. There would be time for that at the next stop.

Right now, there were brothers to call, pizzas and Pay-Per-View to order, and a coin flip needed to figure out which direction they were going to drive next.

(She didn't care which it ended up being, as long as Sidney was in her passenger seat)