Norma Bates answered the door, pushing the door ajar and it creaked loudly. It sounded like the lid of a coffin being tugged open. Norma was shaking in her high heels.

She knew damn well who it was, it would be Norman and that…that girl, but no, it was Dylan. He smiled sheepishly at her as shades and shadows slithered over and around him, trailing wisps of damp air, sticky-sweet honeysuckle, and the acrid smell of rotting leaves, inside the house, an old chapel clock ticked away the passing moments with quiet, mechanical precision. "Norman here?" he asked, peeking around his mom's small frame.

Just behind him, Norma saw her younger son and his knocked up girlfriend, climbing the stairs, fallen leaves swirled around their ankles. Dylan thumbed back at his little brother. "Has he told you anything?"

Norma nervously fingered her pearls from around her neck. "Aside from Brooklyn being pregnant, no," said Norma, curling her upper lip in disgust. Dylan could tell from her expression, that she thought this whole thing was just bad.

His mom stared at the ground before staring at disbelief at her younger son. "Norman said he had some more great news. Being a teen dad, the news can't get much worse, can it?"

"Brooklyn is pregnant, who's the father?" asked Dylan. He knew that Norman was the father but he couldn't picture Norman as a teen father. Norman must have a soft spot for single teen moms.

"I am," said Norman in a voice that was both proud and a growl. A strange crack. "The baby is mine."

Norman and Brooklyn squeezed their way past Norma and into the house. Brooklyn smelled of herbal perfume and spearmint gum. "What's this exciting news you two have?" she asked.

"Calm down Mrs. Bates, dinner has to be cooked," smiled Brooklyn as Norman looked into her blue eyes and grabbed her arm. A pull inside of him wanted to do more, to hold her.

Behind Dylan, a long lance of purple white electricity flowing down the rain, desiccating the calm purple twilight sky, split the sky. "So, I guess Dylan is all caught up," said Norman. "At least caught up to where you are, mother." Norma, Dylan and Brooklyn followed Norman into the kitchen, where they took a seat as Norman stood; his pulse thrumming.

He clapped his hands and cleared his throat. "Mother, Dylan, I'd like to introduce you to Mrs. Bates and Mrs. Bates is pregnant with twins. Discuss."

Norman moved over to the stove as Brooklyn glared at him. "Thanks, Norman!"

"Married? Twins?" choked Dylan. "What the hell, Norman? I guess you are at least picking up the mess you made and judging by the fact it is twins, it is a pretty big mess. Where are you guys going to go? Is Brooklyn moving in here?"