Trading Yesterday

Rating: PG-13

Characters/Pairings: Brandon/Andrea
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters for Beverly Hills, 90210.

Notes: Alternate Universe…obviously.
Description: Brandon muses on his life and the choices he's made.

i.i.

Brandon stood at the window of his meager one-bedroom apartment overlooking the night sky. The sigh that escaped his parted lips was anything but contented and Brandon felt a tightness in his chest he couldn't quite explain.

A car alarm blared loudly in the distance, drowning out the sound of his neighbors upstairs fighting, yet again, about only-God-knew-what. Brandon rolled his eyes sullenly. His little apartment in Montecito Heights was a far cry away from the home he shared with his family in Beverly Hills… even if it was only a twenty minute drive away.

He missed them. More than he would ever care to admit, or even remotely admit to himself, but he did. He missed the Saturday mornings where his mother would cook a big breakfast and he and Brenda would sit in front of the TV for hours arguing about what to watch until their dad would come into the room and turn on cartoons. An absent smile crossed his pink lips in the present as memories of the past played in his mind.

Things were different now, vastly different, and he found himself wishing for those carefree Saturdays again sometimes.

Brandon sighed deeply again, feeling more weight pressing down on his shoulders than ever before. As if the weather could have been predicted by his mood, the sky opened up and a soft rain began to fall. Little droplets of water splattered against his window, obstructing the view of the city beneath him. He thought it to be a metaphor for his life: here he stood, an eighteen year old married man with an infant child with no clear view of the path before him.

How had things gotten to this point, he often wondered when he was alone. How had he gone from a carefree teenager who'd just graduated from high school and was looking forward to college to a married father?

The tightness in his chest grew more prevalent as he thought of his prom night when he and his then-girlfriend (now wife) Andrea made love in the hotel room he'd gotten for them.

Brandon knew, even then, that Andrea was the only girl he could ever really love. The short, brown-haired girl had done deftly and with great ease something that no other girl had ever been able to do. She challenged him at every turn, making him want to be better than he ever thought he could be while at the same time keeping him grounded.

They'd started out as friends and he'd tried in vain to not ruin that, but one day when they were alone in the editing room at West Beverly, Andrea had smiled over at him and he'd backed her against the table and kissed her fiercely.

They'd been together ever since and Brandon couldn't imagine his life without Andrea in it. He knew it the moment he kissed her in the editing room… and the moment he pledged his undying love to her while she was five month's pregnant, standing before him in a pale yellow sundress with their friends and his family around them.

She'd ruined him completely for any other woman… but he was starting to wonder now if love was enough to get them through the challenges they were to face.

Brandon knew he would never regret making love to Andrea that night. He knew he would never forget the way she smiled up at him as their bodies became one like they had so many times before. He knew he'd never forget the joy that immediately flooded his heart when she told him a month later that she was pregnant.

That hadn't been easy. While he was overjoyed at the prospect of being a father, he knew that at eighteen they just weren't ready. They were starting college in a few months, planning out the lives they hoped to spend together, and just enjoying each other.

Their families hadn't taken the news so well either; Brandon's parents (his father mostly) wanted them to give the baby up for adoption, claiming that they were just children themselves and couldn't afford to give up their bright and shining futures based on one mistake. Brandon knew his father was speaking out of love, but he couldn't just readily give up his child. Somewhere deep inside, he knew his father understood that, and wanting to be in his son's life and his grandchild's life, Jim Walsh offered to support them any way he could.

Andrea's family wasn't as forgiving. Her parents had thrown her out of their house and cut her off completely. To this day, almost sixteen months later, they hadn't spoken to Andrea or even inquired about their grandchild. Andrea's grandmother had been more understanding, and offered Andrea all the love and support her parents were not willing to give. Brandon smiled; the older woman had even offered to baby-sit for them while they took classes. She refused to let Andrea give up on the dreams she's had since she was a child.

Even Brenda helped out by babysitting when she wasn't in class. She even talked Dylan, who she'd renewed a relationship with when he realized he didn't love Kelly, into keeping the baby for the night so Andrea and Brandon could have some quiet time to do… whatever. The sight of Dylan McKay holding his daughter as she slept, with Brenda curled into his side sleeping as well was one he knew he would carry for the rest of his life.

He already carried a lot of memories with him. The day his family moved to Beverly Hills, the friends he'd made, the first time he kissed Andrea, the first time they made love, the day she gave birth to their perfectly healthy baby girl… the day they named her Hannah Marie Walsh.

"What are you smiling about?" Andrea asked, she stood by the entrance to their small kitchen holding Hannah in her arms.

Brandon looked over at her and the sight of her almost took his breath away. She stood there, the mother of his child, his wife, wearing his Minnesota Twins shirt and nothing else. Her long brown hair was up in a sloppy ponytail, her face make-up free, and Brandon knew he couldn't love her more if he tried.

"You," he said and crossed the distance between them in two strides. He bent down and placed a small kiss to Hannah's forehead. She was almost asleep but cooed at her father's touch. Raising his head, he leaned forward and kissed Andrea just as softly, but the sincerity behind it was clear.

"Are you okay?" she asked softly, her eyes scanning his.

Brandon thought about that for a long moment, silently wondering if he should burden her with his burdens. "Are you happy?" he asked finally.

Andrea stared at him blankly for a moment, then her eyes narrowed and Brandon thought she was mad at him. "You've asked me that before," she said.

Brandon sighed. "I know, I just…" he shrugged. Looked around their sparsely furnished apartment, and the words bubbled out of him. "I know this isn't your dream. You've always wanted to go to Yale and become a journalist for the Times. And now… you're stuck here with me going to Cal U. and working in a department store." He sighed again, catching a breath but continued before she could speak. "And I'm hardly here between classes and Nat giving me some extra shifts at the Pit…" He'd considered putting off school for a while to focus on working to support them but neither his family nor Andrea would hear of it.

When he looked like he was revving up to continue Andrea interrupted him. "Okay, Brandon, if there's more, I'd really like to sit down."

Smiling despite feeling like an idiot, Brandon stepped aside to let her walk to the couch. He followed closely behind and sat on the coffee table in front of her. After Andrea had shifted Hannah closer and into a more comfortable position, Brandon continued.

"I know that you're going to say we're doing fine. That Hannah is happy and healthy, but…" He reach out a fingered the baby's soft curls. "…this isn't how we should be raising a child, Andrea. Eighteen and broke. And it's only going to get harder as she gets older."

There was a long, lingering silence between them before Andrea sighed discontentedly. "Okay, so let's get a divorce and I'll move to Connecticut with Hannah and go to Yale. That way, you can go back to Beverly Hills with your family and we won't have to raise our daughter in these squalid conditions." She paused. "I don't know how we'll work out visitation, but I'm sure you'll think of something."

The horror that shone in Brandon's eyes was immediate. He felt his heart rate increase immediately as well and was about to protest when he realized that Andrea was joking.

"That wasn't funny," he said softly, scowling like a child.

"And neither is you be self-deprecating," she said, biting back a smile. "Brandon, you should be proud of the choices you've made," she continued. "We've made," she corrected. "When Hannah gets older and we tell her the truth about her conception and the sacrifices we've had to make, she'll know that it was done out of love - for her and the love we have for each other." Andrea grabbed his hand and squeezed it tightly. "You're a good man, Brandon. Not many guys decide to get married and be a father at eighteen… and do it as well as you do."

"Yeah, but," he said and was interrupted again.

"No buts, Walsh," she admonished. "Hannah is, like you said, healthy and happy. She's clothed, fed, and loved. You and I are clothed, fed, and loved. We're doing well in our classes and we have family and friends to support us if we need it. We're in a good place, Brandon. A lot better than others in our situation." Leaning forward, she pulled him to her and kissed his lips. "And yes, I'm happy," she said when they broke apart. Her lips lingered dangerously close to his, and she could smell the coffee he'd had on his breath. "How could you think I wouldn't be married to you?" She leaned back and looked down at their daughter. "How could I not be happy being a mother to this perfect angel and any other angels you and I create together?"

Brandon smiled softly. That was why he loved his wife; she understood him, knew when to let him have his moments and when to pull him out of them. Andrea rose and pressed a kiss to his forehead as she passed.

Brandon watched her go, his eyes following her into their bedroom, where he would be shortly. Andrea knew he would follow her, he always would. Rising from the table, he turned off the lights in their living room and walked into their bedroom where Andrea had placed the now sleeping Hannah in her crib.

The smile she gave him over her shoulder as she let his shirt fall soundlessly to the floor ignited a fire deep within his chest. All the tightness had gone away by the time he climbed into their bed, and the weight of the world had been lifted off of his shoulders when she pressed her lips to his.

Brandon may pine for those carefree days of 'yesterday' sometimes, but he was starting to realize he'd be willing to trade most of them for 'today'.

- End