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The Love Song of Norman Bates:

One Step After

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This is going to a work in MAJOR PROGRESS. It's the end of Norma and Norman's story in the Love Song universe and is set 30 years after the epilogue of the original story. I love Norma and Norman, and I want them to have a lovely, wonderful sending off from the mortal coil.

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This will be ANGSTY and BITTERSWEET, and I hope you can all stay with me. As always, ALittleTasteOfMadness is a lovely muse, and deserves so many accolades! And bates-angela on Tumblr will be very pleased with bits of this fanfiction for sure... I try to make everything in this very realistic; let me know if you notice any glaring errors, and have a lovely read!

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Norman gently pulled the comb through his hair, regarding the salt-and-pepper strands dispassionately. The blue sweater he was wearing set off his eyes, and a belt and trousers finished his ensemble. He looked much the same as he had decades ago, a lifetime ago in White Pine Bay, but for the gray hair and wrinkles. His thoughts turned briefly to the motel, and the series of events that had led them to flee to France so many years before

Looking in the mirror now, he saw his mother behind him, perfect and shining as though in a dream, all blonde hair and bare shoulders. She always looked the same in his hallucinations, just as she had looks in Oregon before they had admitted their feelings to each ohter. "You should have listened to me, Norman," she said ominously.

"Stop talking. Your not real." He adjusted his collar and purposefully moved his gaze, willing himself to not acknowledge her.

"If you'd killed that editor thirty years ago, none of this would have happened."

Her voice echoed around him. "I said that's enough! Killing Derek wouldn't have stopped William and Nancy-" He cut himself off and turned to open the door, leaving the golden apparition behind. It was best not to respond to her.

It was only a few steps to the stairs, a few more into the kitchen, and he saw his real mother. Norma sat at the table, her hair, long gone white, curling around her face in shiny ringlets. She was pouring tea into two matching cups with a shaking hand, deep blue with pink and gold accents with tiny cracks in the old ceramic coating. Snow fell silently outside the windows, frosting the glass, but it was warm inside, and the sight of her beloved face filled him with contentment.

Norman smiled as he saw the teapot, remembering a very special night indeed. "Here, Mother, let me help," he said quietly, taking the antique teapot from her.

"I could have finished it," she muttered, crossing her arms.

"Maybe I like taking care of you." He finished pouring the Chai and placed the teapot down carefully before pouring a splash of milk into each cup. He pushed one towards her, meeting her eyes.

Norma shot him one of her bright smiles, still breathtaking after all these years. "Oh, Norman," she said softly, gripping his hand with withered fingers. "I love you so much."

He looked into her ice-blue gaze and leaned forward to give her a kiss on her lips and then her wrinkly cheek. "Me too, always." He gave her a quick grin. "When will the kids be here?" he asked quietly, sipping his tea.

"Nancy and Will should be here any time, but I'm not sure about Susan and Marc." Norma looked behind her, the muscles in her neck and shoulders protesting. "I need to work on the Yule log, and the turkey needs basting..."

"I'll get the turkey, but otherwise, just wait for William to help," he cautioned her. The tea cup clinked against its saucer as he put it down, and he quickly opened the oven to brush the turkey with its own juices. By the time he got back to the table, she had covered her mouth, eyes brimming with tears. "What is it?" Norman asked, kneeling beside her.

"I can't even make dinner for my children anymore," she whispered, reaching out for him, and he caught her in his arms. "How much worse will it be when... when..."

"It's okay. It's gonna be okay." They both knew it wasn't. "I'll be with you for all of it, you know that." He held her, wishing he could somehow use his arms to protect her from this menace, but the problem was on the inside.

"That'll be horrible for you," she said tearfully.

"It would be worse knowing where you were and not seeing you at all." He felt his heart beat painfully in his chest, imagining how terrible it would be when she no longer knew who he was. How much more anguish would he feel when she didn't remember the life they had led together?

The diagnosis had just come in two days ago; dementia. The same disease that had claimed her mother in the end. Her initial reaction had been extreme, of course, consisting of acting a bit like a child having a tantrum. After a few days, though, she let him hold her and suggest various strategies to hold off the progression.

They would have to tell their children on this visit though, there was no avoiding that.

Norma dried her eyes quickly; she'd rarely had occasion to cry over the preceding years, thanks to Norman. "I'm sorry. I promise to stay positive."

Meeting her eyes with a smile, he stood and pulled her with him. "Come on, Mom," he said, moving towards the front door. "Let's go sit in the swing and enjoy the snow while we wait."

A few minutes later, they were outside on their white porch swing, each wearing a coat, gloves, and hat. They were also snuggled together under and on top of a series of comforters and quilts, arms and legs entangled. The cold air bit at their cheeks and noses, but every other part of them was warm. A white canopy overhead protected them from the calm but huge flakes that were falling in the dark silence of the the winter night.

Snow was rare in their area, being so close to the ocean. The thought of having a white Christmas was obviously giving Norma peace and joy, so he was trying to help her enjoy it as much as she could. She snuggled into his strong frame with a satisfied sigh, and his arms tightened around her. After a few minutes, the setting sun highlighting the glittering top layer of snow, she spoke. The snow muffled all the sounds around them, the night nearly soundless. "Do you think things would have turned out this way if the kids didn't know about us?" she asked quietly.

Norman jerked, startled to hear words so similar to his hallucination's coming from his real mother. "Yes, I do," he said simply.

"Why?"

"Look at us." He kissed her nose before rubbing his against hers. "We didn't have any role models that influenced us, right?"

Norma shrugged and settled against him again. "No, but... I suppose it doesn't matter as long as they're all happy."

Later, in the darkness, they spotted headlights coming up the drive. In a few moments, a taxi had pulled up, and three figures emerged. A tall, blonde man with broad shoulders and striking blue eyes was first. Turning, he waved as he reached back in the door, and seconds later was pulling a little dark-haired boy out of the seat. The toddler began running up the drive toward them as the final occupant of the taxi emerged; a delicate, thin girl with her father's dark hair and demeanor, who was so hugely pregnant that she would be forgiven for toppling over, were it to occur.

"Meme, Pepe!"

Norma and Norman flipped down their blankets as one, and Norma held her arms out. "Allons, Michel!" Norma exclaimed, and she laughingly welcomed him into her arms as Norman pulled the blankets back up around all of them. He let his own chuckle out and kissed his grandson's forehead.

"Mmmmm... Warm..." The little boy said, burrowing between them.

"Hey!" William was supporting Nancy's back as they slowly came up the sidewalk after their son. "Room for one more?"

"Here." Norman gave his mother and grandson one more squeeze and stood, letting his daughter snuggle between the comforters with them. "Come inside, we need some help in the kitchen." He turned and kissed Norma gently. "We'll be right inside, okay?"

"Okay." She was quiet, eyes crinkling up at him with peace.

Norman looked back out at the little group in the falling snow as he went back inside with his oldest, thinking he hadn't seen his mother so happy in a long time.

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.*o0o*.

To Be Continued...