Warning: Character death (a lot of it!) and... depressing.
She Once Was a True Love of Mine
"Are you going to Scarborough Fair?
Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme;
Remember me to the one who lives there,
She once was a true love of mine…"
Nobody pays much attention to the man in the back of the train, holding a sleeping infant in his arms. A few people had looked up a couple of hours back, when he'd decided to croon "City of New Orleans" in a low voice, but they'd brushed it off.
It's not as if he's particularly noticeable. Older, haggard, dirty-blondish, and definitely out of his depth, but that isn't that unusual.
A few people do wonder what kind of idiot thought dragging a baby on a train ride up the cost was a good idea.
He climbs off the train in Oregon and catches a cab the rest of the way. When the cab driver asks him the name of the baby, he shrugs and mumbles something about it being pretty long.
"That's normal where I'm from. Long names, kinda. Cultural, you know?"
"You look pretty American to me, fella."
"Costa Rica," the man tells him, "Was out there five years. You get used to stuff, I guess."
"What brought you back?"
The man stares out the window and just says, "Family."
Alex Romero is jolted out of bed by a knock on the door. Reluctantly, he goes to open it, and finds himself staring at a man he hasn't seen in five years and didn't particularly care to ever see again.
"Caleb, isn't it?"
The man shifts from foot to foot and looks up at Alex.
"I was lookin' for Norma. No one's at the hotel. Where's she? Or Norman… is Norman around?"
Alex shakes his head.
"You didn't hear?"
"Hear what? I was… outta the country. I… hear what?"
Alex's eyes look darker than before.
"They're gone. Both of them. Two years now. Whatever it is you want, I can't help you."
"Gone? What?"
"Dead. Gone."
He moves to close the door.
"Wait!"
Caleb jams his foot in the door.
"Guess it's gotta be you then."
"I don't have time for guessing games."
Caleb shifts the sleeping infant forward.
"They'd want… they'd be okay with you…"
"What the hell are you even doing? Whose baby is this?"
"Dylan and Emma's. They're… gone, too."
"What?" Now it's Alex's turn to look shocked, disconcerted.
"Three months back. House… caught fire, must've been… faulty wiring. Dylan… he was in it when it blew, Emma was too. I tried to go back in – smoke was too thick, got a hold of Emma but couldn't find Dylan. She… she had the baby but it was all… you know, too much."
"That doesn't explain what you're doing with their baby."
"Came to bring her home. To Norma. Thought she could ..."
"Yeah, because she did such a good job with her other two sons," Alex cuts in.
"She did all right. Under… the circumstances. What happened? To… her and Norman?"
"I'm not going to talk about it," Alex replies. "I'm not taking in this kid. I don't want anything to do with the whole mess, your whole family, none of it. You're all a mess. You want to abandon your kid, there's a fire station up the road."
Alex moves to close the door again.
"He killed her, didn't he?"
The door stills.
"I'm not going to talk about it."
"There's a ring. On your finger."
"I'm not going to talk about you."
"You and her, you… you two were…"
"Caleb, what is it you want? What exactly can I help you with?"
"It can't be me."
"Why not?"
Caleb shoves the baby into Alex's hands, drapes the blanket over her before Alex can protest.
"I started this whole crazy thing. Anything happened to Norma, it's on me. I'm not putting this… what it is, what I am – on anybody else. Some people are just cursed, but she won't be. 'Cause she'll be with you."
"How do you know I won't just call this in? Put this baby in foster care? I'm not Daddy Warbucks, here."
Caleb shrugs.
"I don't. Guess I'm just a hopeful kinda guy."
"What did you do? That was so bad?"
"I'm not gonna talk about it."
Caleb turns, starts to walk.
"Wait… What's her name?"
He turns his head, doesn't stop walking, just slows.
"Emily Norma-Louise Massett Decody."
He picks another batch of lupins and walks through the cemetery, not asking for directions.
When he hits it, he knows.
Norma Louise Romero – Beloved Wife & Mother
On the same stone, engraved in the same hand – Norman Bates, Son
He sets the flowers down.
Norman wasn't a bad kid, not really, he thinks.
From his hip, he takes the heavy metal, balances it a moment, and cocks it.
They're pretty flowers. He can see why Norma always liked them so much.