I do not own Bates Motel.
But, in some ways, I do own a Dylan. And I love him so much.
Yeah, Whatever
As Dylan Brian Massett gazed deep into his beautiful bride's beautiful, dark brown eyes and listened to the dour civil ceremonies judge recite his well-worn litany, his mind wandered back to the first time he had seen her.
In retrospect, he was really kind of embarrassed about it all.
The way he acted, the way they had all acted, the first time he had met Emma.
Like dogs fighting over the best bone.
And she was the best bone.
-r.
He inwardly snorted, then mentally shook himself a little.
No, he wasn't being that guy anymore.
He didn't have to be.
He was being better.
Still him.
Just . . . a better him.
He was making clear and purposeful decisions to be a better him.
He hadn't always.
Like the day he had met Emma, for instance.
No, not a better Dylan.
Not then.
Not at all.
Knee-deep in God, these people are pissin' me off, what is wrong with them, okay, fine, I can play this game too. I'll be the asshole unwanted brother.
And he had been.
Slung back in the kitchen chair in that creepy, gothic, museum of a house . . .
Anybody but me notice this place stands out like a sore thumb? No? Okay.
. . . munching on some homemade . . .
Mmm, you're crazy as hell but these are good.
. . . chocolate chip cookies.
Watching the two Bates nuts hunker down and scour microscopic specs of crud off the lower kitchen you'd have to have x-ray eyes to see.
X-Ray Eyes, huh. I had those. Tried to see through girls' panties. What a jip.
But he hadn't needed to have fake oogle eyes to see how pretty Emma had been that first day.
Rolling in with her decorated oxygen tank and her nasal cannula.
Her Language Arts project and her open, welcoming spirit.
And those big, warm, chocolate brown eyes.
Right into the middle of the Bates/Massett Hotel for Freaks, Geeks, and Losers.
God, how embarrassing.
She had been all smiles and easy small talk.
Even with Norma's . . .
Jesus, woman, haven't you ever heard of manners?
. . . shameless delve straight into her personal medical condition.
And they had been all hungry, ravenous animals intent on gorging themselves on Emma's innocent, unblemished, teenage normalcy.
Competing, they had been competing.
Competing for love and attention and a chance to . . .
Hey, look at me, pick me, pick me-
. . . lap at her ankles and piss on her feet like neglected, unhousebroken little puppies.
Miracle she hadn't run screaming into the breezy, White Pine Bay autumn afternoon right then and there.
But she hadn't.
In fact . . .
Really, Norma? A real, live girl that close to your precious widdle Norman? Damn, I'm impressed.
And he hadn't really thought much of Emma after that for a while.
After all, he'd had his own shit to deal with.
Norma's.
And Norman's.
Jeez, these people are a circus wreck from hell. Why did I bother tracking them down?
Oh, right.
Plus, he was older than her by a good four or five years . . .
Not getting me on 'statutory rape/assault/hey, he looked at me funny, get him' charge.
Nope.
. . . and clearly crushin' on . . .
Norman, really? I mean, really?
. . . his little brother.
Well, half.
And of course . . .
Girl like her shouldn't go slumming. Not with someone like me anyway.
. . . she was so far above his decent humanity pay grade it was unreal.
So, he'd moved on and she'd moved on.
And at some point . . .
". . . shall live?"
. . . they'd started moving on together.
Dylan Brian Massett felt a little smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, felt his eyes crinkle in happiness as he beheld the woman of his dreams.
Standing before him with a big, sweet, toothy smile painting her oval face in a resplendent glow.
And he found absolutely no trouble at all in taking the next step.
Saying the words.
And committing himself completely.
To her.
For the rest of his life.
"I do."
Hello, Bates Motel, oh yeah!
Needless to say, it's awesome!
Anybody interested in some Dylan-centric fic?
Buch of chapters already written and waiting for somebody besides me to enjoy.
Everybody appreciates feedback.
Leave a review if you like.