THEY WERE FUCKING INTEGRAL TO THE REBELS WINNING THE WAR!
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☆︎ APRIL, 1998 ☆︎
Gale Weathers was fuming as she stormed away from Cotton Weary, who was trying to get answers about the interview with Sidney that he was promised. Her newest cameraman, Joel, wasn't moving nearly fast enough to keep up with her — she was practically sprinting so that no other news channels would get footage of her blood-covered face.
"Joel!" she snapped, looking back at him over her shoulder. She'd need to make sure he deleted the footage of Indiana punching her, even though the local news would likely be playing it on a loop in between segments about the murders.
She figured the universe must have hated her, because before she could find a bathroom to clean her face off, she walked right into a trio containing two of the last people wanted to see. Dewey Riley and Virginia Winger.
"Dewey," Gale said, actively ignoring Virginia and Sophia Martin, who was to the side. Her voice sounded off as she was still holding her broken nose. "What are you doing here?"
Rather than answer, Dewey nodded to the other side of the quad where Sidney and Indiana headed with the rest of their friends. "Why don't you just leave them alone? Haven't they been through enough?" he asked her. "And my name is Dwight."
Gale just shrugged. "I was just doing my job, Dwight."
"No matter who gets hurt in the process?" Sophia asked in a snarky tone. Ever since reading the chapter of Gale's book that covered Tatum's death, she knew she'd hate the older woman for the rest of her life.
"Hey!" Gale snapped as the other three started to walk off. "Who got punched here — again?"
Virginia smirked at the woman, taking in her already bruising face and bleeding lip. "Remind me to buy Indy a car for that."
"Well, I don't condone violence, but maybe you deserved it," Dewey added, making Gale scoff. Then he began quoting her book. "Page thirty-two, 'Deputy Dewey filled the room with his Barney Fife-ish presence.'"
Dewey stopped for a moment, and Gale looked at him in surprise. "You read my book."
"Oh, yes, I do read, Miss Weathers," he said, rolling his eyes. Then he kept walking.
"Oh, Dewey, don't take it so seriously. It's a character in a book," she insisted.
"A non-fiction book," Virginia said, glaring at her. "Dewey isn't just a character. And I'm not an 'insecure, overbearing nurse clinging to her youth, failing to raise her troubled sister on her own.'"
Gale raised a doubtful eyebrow. "You read my book too?"
"Anything that has to do with Indiana is my business," she said in a firm tone. "You know, Indiana, my 'verging on the cusp of mentally unstable and dangerous' little sister that helped save your life that night and just broke your nose."
