Disclaimer: I don't own Beverly Hills, 90210, and I don't own Dylan McKay, no matter how much I wish I did.

Author's Note: I was watching The Child Is Father To The Man, and I got inspired. I know the writing is pretty bad and I apologize. I would like some feed back though! Reviews are always appreciated.

Background: During The Child Is Father To The Man. David didn't stop Dylan from drinking.

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He was drunk. He was totally, completely, undeniably drunk. He knew this feeling well. He'd been here many times before, and as much as he dreaded the hangover he would have the next morning, he was content. More content that he had been for the past few days, with the exception of when he was with her.

She was the light in his life. He knew that no matter what she would be there. Even when he couldn't find the words to tell her how he felt, she was there, waiting for him.

He didn't deserve her; he knew he didn't deserve her. He would never be good enough. He was just a stupid kid, with abandonment issues and a drinking problem.

She was his family. They were his family. Even when things went bad, he never felt completely comfortable anywhere else.

The phone rang, but he ignored it. He heard Jim calling for him but he didn't respond. Groaning, he got up the couch and made his way up the stairs as quietly as possible. He stumbled into the room and collapsed on the bed.

He lay there miserably, with his alter ego sitting next to him smirking. "You gave in. I knew you would. Drinking feels good doesn't it? It always eases the pain."

Dylan just groaned in response, as his other self continued.

"You're so pathetic. You're dad died and you go back to drinking. We're never going to get anywhere in life. We're nothing but no good bums. That's all were ever be."

"You were the one pushing me to drink!" Dylan sprung up, yelling, then cursed himself (both of himselves), feeling the jarring pain in his head from the alcohol, and sunk back down.

Alter ego Dylan just laughed. "And you gave in didn't you? That just shows how weak you are. You can't get through anything without getting drunk."

"That's enough!"

"Dylan, are you okay?" She asked, knocking on the door, then slowly pushing it open.

"Oh yeah, I'm just great. I mean, my dad just died, I couldn't be any better!" The bitterness and sarcasm made his words come out even angrier than he meant. He saw he wince and pull back a little. He shouldn't be angry with her, but he couldn't help it. After all this time she still cared about him.

"I'm sorry Dylan, I thought I heard yelling and I thought I would come check on you. Besides, this is my room."

Dylan looked around, realizing for the first time that he hadn't stumbled into Brandon's room like he thought, he was in her room.

"Look Bren, it's nice that you're so concerned about me but I don't need you! I don't need anyone!" He tried to push himself up, but he couldn't. She quickly crossed over the room so that she was sitting next to him on the bed.

"You're drunk aren't you Dylan?"

"Oh sure, God forbid I actually get angry for once. I have to be drunk." He was angry at her, but at the same time he wanted nothing more than to touch her, than to feel her arms around him. He could smell her shampoo, and it was driving him crazy.

"You are drunk! I can smell it on your breath!" Brenda got up and ran over to the door.

"What are you going to do, tell your father?"

"Maybe I am!" Now she was angry.

"Bren, wait." She could hear the pleading in his voice. She could practically see the scared little boy inside of him, trying to pretend he was a grown up.

"Dylan, I'm worried about you." She crossed back over to her bed. "You've been sober for so long. I know this is hard on you, but you could've talked to someone. Me, Brandon, Kelly, Steve, your sponser even."

He knew she was right. She was always right. Didn't she understand that it was easier for him to drown his sorrows in alcohol? It made all the pain go away.

"Dylan..." He could hear the sorrow in her voice, see in her eyes how much she truly cared for him, and that scared him most of all. It scared him more than his drunken relapses, and the thought of really being alone in the world. To see someone care that much, for him, scared him, because in his opinion he didn't deserve it.

"Just tell me what's wrong."

"I can't!" The frustration in his voice was clear, and he grabbed his head, pulling out some of his hair. "It's just so much. I can't deal with this Brenda. I can't face this alone. Jack's gone and I have no one."

"You have me." Her angry faded and she was filled with sympathy. She didn't understand what he was going through. Sure, she lost her aunt, but he, he had lost his father. Nothing could compare to that. "Dylan, can you help me understand?"

Those words. They brought back everything. All those feelings for her he had repressed. Those thoughts that told him they were soul mates, the longing to taste her lips, to kiss her neck, to lay with her all those nights and just be with her. It all came back.

When he was in trouble, it wasn't Kelly who came to him, it was Brenda. It was always Brenda. Sure, Kelly tried talking to him, but she didn't fully understand his need for space. Brenda did though, she knew when to push him, and when not to.

"I can't right now. It's too much." He looked at her with his sorrow filled eyes, and took her hand.

"But one day?"

"One day I'll tell you everything." He pulled her back into him, and her arms were around him. He knew where he belonged and it was right there, in her arms. Just the two of them, forever and ever. Home is where the heart is, and his heart was with her. After all of these years, he had finally found his home.