NOTE: I do not, nor do I attempt to, claim these characters are my own, they are the property of the creators of Bates Motel. Also, any song lyrics used contextually are the property of Jack's Mannequin and Billy Joel respectively. And lastly, I have neither read nor written the fic in many years, so please, review! Your suggestions are greatly appreciated! Thank you, enjoy!

1

Where are you now?

The sunlight was glaring, it was much too late in the day to still be sleeping. But Emma DeCody just had the most fucked up night she had a reasonable list of excuses, but it was mostly so she didn't have to face what came next. When she truly woke, she noticed she still felt his hands on her chest.

"Could he feel my pulse quicken? Did he just assume it was because I couldn't breathe?" The thoughts came rapidly as Emma tried to adjust to the new day. She shook her head, smiling to herself, determined to find out how real this was. Dylan had seen her at her worst. Had to physically help her to catch her breath. He didn't even seem disgusted, just full of concern and perhaps, something more? Oh boy, did she hope there was more. As she got out of bed something else struck her. Norman. How would he react, especially because of the state he was in?

No. Her resolve set it, she had been put on the back burner far too many times and no matter what, she was moving forward with her life. At the rate she was going, it was unclear how much of that life she would have left. Deciding that some motivation in the form of Something Corporate was in order, she prepared herself for the day, not knowing she was to set into motion the beginning. Or perhaps the end.

It was you I was thinking of...

The ride back from the farm was eerily quiet. Norma and Norman exchanged small, darting glances back and forth. It was odd, but considering all that had happened, not too odd. Dylan Massett found himself tuning out, though the talk was minimal in the car, he did not exchange at all. He noticed a twinge as if something in his heart were being awakened for the first time. He tried to suppress it, chalk it up to the emotional rollercoaster that had been the past few days, hell, weeks. He went back and forth in his own mind to every time he noticed feelings that weren't there before. And there was a giant, glowing arrow pointing in one direction.

"IT'S FUCKING HER, YOU ASSHAT!" This. This was the awakening. That moment you know that no matter what, you take what you want.

He snapped back to consciousness when they pulled into the parking lot of the motel. He sat up, anxiously awaiting to see the one thing he needed that day. The lot was empty. He audibly sighed his disappointment, eliciting strange looks from both his mother and brother, but they had no idea. They were completely unaware that all he was looking forward to was seeing that old, orange punch bug.

As they got out of the car, he caught the last few lines of a song he hadn't heard in forever and noticed his heart skip a beat.

"Did that really happen?" He mused. Dylan always had seen himself above such petty romantic allegories. But he was smiling despite himself, it was her. And he needed to know if she felt the same.

He watched Norma and Norman walking up the stairs to the house, their bond tested but still intact. He knew he was always steps behind, but if someone else could share those steps with him, he knew he would come out on top. He didn't think or care, about their reactions. He did care, however, that he may smell a little, and he wanted to remedy that before he saw Emma. He jaunted up the stairs and beelined for the bathroom, and that's when he saw it. The physical embodiment of her frailty. He was so scared for her the night before and was so mad that she had to go through that. He cleaned up the mess, touching gently the spot she laid the night prior, then got into the shower. Today could only look up.

And I can't get to you

Norman stood outside of the bathroom, staring at the door and wondering what exactly he had missed. There were so many holes, he could mostly string together a timeline but there was something just not right about Dylan's post-Caleb encounter. Instead of groveling or staying out of Mothers way, he was positively focused on something that apparently meant a great deal to him. Norman cocked his head to the side, he heard a faint voice coming from the bathroom.

"Singing in the shower now, are we Dylan?" He coldly asked. It was literal hell without Mother that night, and yet, here he was, singing. About a girl no less.

That's when he got louder.

"She comes to me when I'm feelin' down. Inspires me without a sound. She touches me and I get turned around..."

"That's quite enough. Hurry up, you're not the only one who would like to shower." Norman yelled back and disgustedly walked to his room.

Norma, who had quietly listened to their exchange, stuck her head out from her door and took up Normans staring in front of the bathroom. Who, besides her, could have this effect on one of her boys, she pondered. As her imagination started to run away with her, she heard the water shut off and quickly retreated back to her room, head spinning with possible temptresses trying to rip her family apart.

I'm writing you a symphony of sound

"Hey…" That's subtle enough Emma thought. There's nothing really suggestive…but was it too vague?

"Uggghhhhh!" Emma deleted the text again. That was the tenth time she wrote something and deleted it. She was never going to get this right. Everything was either too much or too little, nothing sounded right in her mind. She was just about to give up when her phone rang.

"Damnit!" She said, juggling her phone and answering it before she even had a chance to look at the caller id.

"Hello? Emma?" The voice asked.

"Um, yeah, this is she.""Hey…" That's subtle enough emma thought. There's nothing really suggestive…but was it too vague?

"Uggghhhhh!" Emma deleted the text again. That was around the tenth time she wrote something and deleted it. She was never going to get this right. Everything was either too much or too little, nothing sounded right in her mind. She was just about to give up when her phone rang.

"Damnit!" She said, juggling her phone and answering it before she even had a chance to look at the caller id.

"Hello? Emma?" The voice asked.

"Um, yeah, this is she." She finally got control of her hands and held the phone steadily by her ear. There was a pause on the other end and she found herself holding her breath, which is not a very good idea if one has cystic fibrosis.

"Hey, it's Dylan..." Emma could almost see his crooked, half smile, "Um, I just wanted to see how you were doing? I know last night was pretty..."

"Fucked?" She finished. He laughed. Not a chuckle, but a fully realized laugh. Emma was slightly taken aback but soon found herself laughing as well. It was then that her coughing started. She wheezed and gasped until she was able to get her breathing under control. She had almost forgotten she was even on the phone until his voice brought her back to reality. "I'm sorry I keep doing that to you, you know know its's nothing personal." She joked. She could see that smile again.

"Really?" His voice tinged with concern. "Maybe I just take your breath away." Dylan hadn't intended to say that. It had just kind of slipped past his teeth. Shit, shit, shit, he thought.

Ohmygodohmygodohmygod! Did he just say that? Emma's brain echoed with realizations. This wasn't just one-sided like it had been with Norman. This was real! She knew it and apparently he did too. Now, how to proceed. Play it cool DeCody. Don't fucking scare him.

"Well, I suppose we'll have to make plans to see each other again soon, you know, so we can test that theory." She replied coyly.

"Meet me tonight, nineish? You have to come out and see the stars."

"Yeah, okay, I'll see you then."

"Until then Emma."