Norman doesn't see the blow coming. One second he's on his feet and the next, he's on his back with Richard standing above him, wild eyed and dangerous. The crowd gathers immediately, whispers and hoots and hollers filling in Norman's headspace. His jaw throbs, but somehow he finds himself on his feet.

Richard's mouth is moving but the words indiscernible. There's a fog gathering in around Norman; he knows this feeling well. It's a common occurrence, but it won't save him this time. Richard throws another punch and adds a few kicks to the ribs for good measure and then, Norman's losing consciousness, darkness pulling him in deep and refusing to let go.

He comes to in a hospital room. His ribs are wrapped so tight he can barely breathe or maybe that's just a side effect of his broken nose. He glances around the room and sees Norma sitting beside the bed, visibly drained. His heart aches for her; all he does is let her down.

"Mother, I…" His voice comes out thick.

Norma puts her hand up, palm out to silence him. "Don't." She fixes him with that hard gaze he's so used to. "Who was he?"

He sighs and his ribs scream with pain. "Bradley's boyfriend." He says.

His mother scoffs. "That's perfect." Is all she can manage, but he can feel her disappointment burrow deep in his bones.

Norma leaves him at the motel when she goes to see Norman at the hospital. Dylan doesn't know what to do with himself in the deafening quiet, so he snags the gun from her vanity drawer and goes out behind the house. Empty beer bottles sit in a line on the fence, waiting. He remembers doing this with Norma a few days ago and his stomach flips pleasantly. It was fun despite the reasons behind it and for a minute, all he can think about is Norma's fingers flexing along the barrel. That and the squeal of joy she let out every time she hit a bottle. But, Norma isn't here now and that fact makes him feel so…

He pulls the trigger and watches glass shatter and blow apart in every direction. The sound comforts him, so he keeps doing it until the emptiness stops feeling so bottomless.

He can't stop thinking about it. The night she slept in his bed, curled against him, her fingers playing along his side and her legs tangled with his. It felt like home; it felt like peace. He was so desperate to feel it again, so desperate to hold her and keep her safe from her demons. She was broken, he knew, so damaged by the world around her. He wanted to fix it, but he didn't know how. And, that's why he kept these feelings to himself. How could he tell her that he'd do anything for her when he wasn't even sure what to do or how to do it? But, now, sitting here in this silence with her hand in his and the desperation closing in all around him, he couldn't help believing that he didn't have much to lose.

"Mother."

Her deep blue eyes find his; her weariness weighs him down until he feels like he's drowning in the pain. Her pain, his pain, there was no difference.

He goes on anyway. "Mother, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I've let you down so much lately. I'm sorry for hurting you; I don't want to hurt you. I never want to hurt you. I love you. I love you so much. I just…sometimes, I get stuck. And, when that happens, I get so angry. Angry enough to hurt you and I hate it. I'm sorry."

A single tear tracks its way down her cheek as she leans forward. She presses a kiss to his pulse point and pulls away to stare down at him. She squeezes his hand.

"I love you, too, Norman." Another kiss to his cheek and the corner of his mouth. He breathes in shakily, turning his head. The idea of kissing her, really kissing her, makes his heart speed up. But, she moves away from him instead and everything inside him clenches and twists. Maybe she did prefer Dylan, after all.

She leaves in the early evening, but promises she'll be back first thing in the morning. The hospital won't release until the day after tomorrow and already, Norman is losing his mind. It's not easy being alone with his thoughts; especially when he can still see Bradley being pushed underwater every time he closes his eyes.

The soft clicks of heels on the tile drive him away from the nightmare. He looks up from his wringing hands to see Miss Watson standing there, wearing an empathetic smile.

"Hi." She says.

He keeps wringing his hands. It's a nervous habit he can't seem to shake.

"Hi. What are you doing here?"

Slowly, she settles into the chair that his mother had occupied for hours. "I wanted to see how you were." She sighs deeply. "Norman. What happened?"

"I…uh, I slept with Bradley Martin. Her boyfriend didn't exactly appreciate it." He smiles wide at her, hoping that she'll leave the questions at that. It isn't that he doesn't want the company; it's just that he can't seem to think straight when she's around.

She shakes her head and for a second, she reminds him of his mother. That makes him want to scream.

"It was stupid, I know." He might as well admit to it. "I should've listened to my mother. She told me to stay away." Was it a good idea to bring her into this conversation? He didn't know.

He gets his answer when Miss Watson shifts in her seat. "Your mother. She's an interesting woman."

Norman laughs. "Yeah, she is." He's got her on his mind again and so, he's back to thinking about the way she feels in his arms. It fills him up.

"Does she…" Miss Watson hesitates and Norman sees something burning in her eyes. He can't fathom what it is. "Does she hurt you, Norman?"

The question throws him off his axis. He should be angry that she could think that, but somehow, he can't be mad at her. In fact, he's thankful that someone besides Dylan has taken the time to notice.

He should be raging at her, but that isn't what he does. He plays dumb.

"I don't know what you mean."

"It seems that way to me, Norman. It seems that she's hurting you emotionally. She likes to control you, doesn't she?"

He doesn't answer. She takes his silence as an affirmation.

"You know, we all make bad choices, Norman. It's what you learn from them that makes you who you are. It's part of growing up. We can't stay sheltered forever; it just isn't healthy."

What she's doing to you, it isn't healthy. Dylan's words from so long ago echo through his head.

To Miss Watson, he says,

"You're right, but there's nothing I can do."

Norma comes home to find her oldest son sitting on the stairs nursing a beer. His eyes shoot upward when she enters. They're blood shot and puffy. She wonders if he's high. It's a great thing to add alongside his clear drunkenness.

She wishes she could blow up on him but for once, she doesn't have the strength.

"How's Norman?" He asks.

"He's got a broken nose and four cracked ribs. He can barely sit up, so they're keeping him for a couple of days."

Dylan watches her as she settles beside him on the bottom step. Her fingers riding nervously along her pant leg draw his attention and so does the clenched line of her jaw. He swallows hard and finds it difficult to look elsewhere.

"I'm an asshole." He says. "I'm the one who told him to go for that girl."

Norma turns to him and he knows that she's been waiting to hear that. He hates that he felt the need to give her that satisfaction.

To his surprise, she doesn't appear smug. In fact, there's nothing but sympathy shining on her face. "It's all right, Dylan." Silence moves in for the slightest moment while Norma prepares herself for the words she'd never thought she'd say. "…It's all right to be angry with me. I never showed you what I should have." A sharp intake of breath. "I'm so sorry."

Dylan doesn't know how to respond to that. It's everything he's ever wanted to hear, but it stops him dead in his tracks. Does he forgive her? He isn't sure. He knows that he wants to. Maybe that's enough.

Still, the words don't want to come. He ducks his head, overwhelmed. It isn't until he feels her hand on his cheek that he looks up again.

"I'm sorry."

He surges forward into her arms, burying his face in her neck. A desperate little smile adorns her face as she wraps him tight in her embrace and whispers comforting words against the crown of his head. She rocks him back and forth in an effort to soothe him. It works in a way she never knew it could.

For Dylan, it feels like home. The home that was always just out of his reach. The home that was finally welcoming him. The home that was finally his.