Author's Notes:

Hey everyone! New chapter. Yippie! Sorry it took me so long to get it to you. I've been struggling writing this part of the story for some reason. Anyway… This chapter is another heavy one. But you should have been expecting that. I cautioned you that it was a Dylan chapter. Heavy subject matter once again. Also, I should warn you there is a four letter word in this chapter. Actually, there's many, many four letter words, but I mean a Four Letter Word. It will probably be the one and only time I swear in this entire story. So anyway, you've been warned.

As always, please let me know what you think!

Cheers,

Jianna

Chapter Eleven

The Return of Nothing

El Sauzai, Baja California

The September sun hung low in the sky, slowly making its downward descent into the Pacific Ocean, bathing the world in vivid shades of burnt orange, auburn, indigo, violet, and magenta. It was the type of sunset that made tourists pull over to the side of the road, stopping to take a photograph in the vain attempt to capture its beauty for all time.

And yet, the splendor of the scene was completely missed by the oblivious twenty-five-year-old man resting on the sandy shores, staring vacantly out across the ocean. Dylan McKay had been sitting in the sand, his legs buried up to his calves, since early that morning just after he had come in from surfing. He hadn't eaten or drank anything all day. He just sat and stared, alone with his thoughts.

At some point during the day, Dylan had come to the grim realization that he detested himself. It was far more than the self-hatred he had during his years battling his alcoholism or all his other demons. Even when he was at rock bottom he had never truly despised himself like he did now. Watching the beauty of the world around him made him realize what a despicable human being he truly was.

He couldn't quite believe he was actually back in Baja. He had made a vow to himself that he would never run from his problems again. He would face them like the man he thought he was. Yet at the very first test of his newfound resolve, he had failed miserably. Not only had he ran away again, he hadn't told a soul save for Andrea Zuckerman and he had made her swear she wouldn't tell anyone.

Dylan knew Kelly would probably be frantic by now. He had been gone for days without a call or note. The last she had heard from him was when he had cancelled on her for Friday night. If he had bothered to take his cell phone with him, he was certain there would be more than a few dozen missed phone calls from the woman he thought he had loved more than anything.

Dylan did love Kelly. He knew that. But the fact that he had fled without telling her what he was running from forced him to face some very hard truths. He loved Kelly, but he didn't trust her. Not with his heart. He didn't trust that she would still love him even if he was diagnosed as HIV positive. None of the various scenarios he had played and replayed in his mind had turned out very well. But he had to tell her. Somehow.

Dylan closed his eyes to the world's beauty as he attempted to force his mind away from the seemingly endless list of women he needed to get in touch with. One face swam to the forefront of his vision and would not be driven away. Brenda. His Brenda. The first woman he ever truly loved. The only woman he had ever loved with complete abandon. Somehow, he had to tell her as well.

A tear slid down Dylan's bronzed cheek, which he quickly brushed away. He feared telling Brenda even more than he did Kelly. Even though he had known Kelly since they were in kindergarten, he still had no clue how Kelly would respond. Yet, he knew exactly how Brenda would. Or at least would have responded two years ago. Two years ago she would have loved him despite his damning words. She would have convinced him they could still be together, that they would be careful, and that for whatever time he had left on this earth she would always be by his side. No matter what.

But that was before. Before Dylan had lost the battle to the most vicious of demons he had ever fought. He had been stupid. Insanely stupid. He could see that now. But now it was too late. Far too late. He had jumped to conclusions, seen things distorted by his own stupid jealousy. He had gone mad with rage. Completely mad. And in that madness he had damned his relationship with Brenda for forever.

"Oh my God! Dylan!"

He stared at her, his Brenda, in the arms of that cowardly bastard. He couldn't believe it. Wouldn't believe it. But the truth was apparent. Obvious. It all made sense. Her behavior lately. Her late night 'rehearsals.' The excuses she made to not be alone with him. The pieces all began to fall into place now.

Weeks ago she told him that the little man had a crush on her. That he had asked her out. Several times. They had laughed about it. Laughed! And now she was here. In his arms. Kissing him. Loving him.

"You bitch." The words had escaped past his lips before he could stop them.

"Dylan, it's not what you think!" Brenda protested, detangling herself from the lying scumbag's arms. "We're-"

"I know what you were doing, Brenda." He spat out the words angrily, shaking his head in a vain attempt to stop the wild hammering of his heart. His vision was blurring, tingeing red at the edges.

"Look, man-" He had risen to his feet, his hands held up in mock innocence. Dylan wanted to kill him.

"You! Shut up. Just shut the fuck up! Don't say another word. Don't ever say another word again!" Dylan roared.

There was something in his hand. Cold. Metal. A gun. His gun that he was supposed to hawk that afternoon.

Dylan felt his control begin to slip. Felt the red grow stronger. His head was throbbing. His vision swimming.

"And you." His voice came out as a hoarse whisper. He stared at Brenda. He was vaguely aware of tears cascading down his cheeks.

She was weeping as well. She was so beautiful when she was crying.

He hated seeing her cry.

"Dylan." She moaned, her brilliant green eyes pleading. She made a move towards him, but suddenly the gun was pointing at her.

"I trusted you, Bren. I trusted you." He could see the gun shaking. He was shaking. Not just his hand. His arm. His entire body pulsated – throbbing with a jealous, all-consuming rage.

"Put down the gun, Dylan. Please, just put down the gun." Brenda was pleading with him.

"Why? So you and your pretty boy can continue your sordid little affair?"

"No, Dylan-"

"Tell me, Brenda." He didn't recognize his own voice. Couldn't control his own words. Someone else was pulling the strings. Who? "Tell me why I shouldn't just kill you now. Kill you. Kill him. Kill myself." The gun was at his own temple.

"Dylan," The man was speaking again. "Take a deep breath. Listen to Brenda. She loves-"

"I told you not to talk." The gun whipped towards the bastard who had stolen his Brenda away from him. "Not ever, ever again."

His finger pulled the trigger. But the man was no longer before him.

She was.

His Brenda.

And then all was darkness.

Dylan shook his head, trying to chase away the torturous memories. Perhaps someday Brenda might be able to forgive him for what he had done. Knowing her, she probably already had. But Dylan would never, ever be able to forgive himself. And now… Now he had something else to tell her. Yet another way to try and destroy her life.

"Oh Brenda." He moaned, covering his face with his hands, allowing fresh tears to fall down his face.

Dylan surrendered himself to his grief for quite some time, allowing it to consume his entire self as the sobs wracked his lean frame. He wept for himself. He wept for Kelly. He wept for Brenda. For all of his friends.

He wept for the life he had completely wasted on selfish endeavors. The life that, more than likely, would be cut short. He wept for his future. For the woman he would never marry. The children he would never have. The home he would never create.

At long last, when the tears would no longer fall, Dylan allowed himself to collapse into the warm, welcoming sand. He stared out across the darkened ocean, his thoughts more clear than they had been since Melanie had turned his entire world upside down. Dylan finally knew what he had to do. God knows, he didn't want, but Dylan knew it was necessary. And he had to do it before he learned if he was HIV positive or not.

Dylan sucked in a deep breath then pushed himself up off the ground, the sand cascading down his bare skin and shorts to rejoin their billions of brethren on shore below. He quickly dusted the remaining grains from his skin then went to retrieve his surfboard and gear before turning to head back in the direction of his motel. He needed to change and get a few things before he went out again.

Forty-five minuets later, Dylan sat alone at in a small, private booth in the cantina he and Brenda had eaten at their first evening together when they had come to Baja back when they were still kids in high school. That evening had perhaps been one of the best evenings of his entire life. Things back then had been simple in comparison to how they had become just a few short weeks later.

He shook his head, clearing away his thoughts and turning his attention back to the clean sheet of fine white paper in front of him. His pen was poised, ready to begin writing one of the most difficult things he would ever have to write in his life. It would be the first of several letters. Letters he wished he never had to write but knew he had to because he did not have the courage to say the things he needed to say face-to-face.

My darling Kelly,

Even in my wildest imaginings, I never dreamed I would be writing you a letter like this and honestly, I have no idea where to begin or how to express the words I know I need to say.

We have always shared a connection, since we were children. It's been that connection that I've always relied on, knowing that there was nothing so horrible that I could do or say that would drive you away from me forever. Until now.

The Friday afternoon that I disappeared, I had a visitor from my past. A woman by the name of Melanie. She and I were loves the summer I spent in Baja after our freshman year at California University. She's now dying of AIDs and she believes there is a possibility I may have contracted the virus from her.

I haven't been tested yet. I haven't decided whether or not I am going to be tested. There is a certain morbid beauty in the not knowing. To live each day as if it could be my last…

As tantalizing as that thought may be, however, I know it would not be fair to you. You or our friends. Through me, all of them, save for Andrea, could be infected. I don't know if I can bare the weight of that responsibility.

Perhaps I'm taking the coward's way out. It wouldn't be the first time for me. But I've been doing a lot of thinking while I've been away and I've come to realize some very harsh truths about myself. And about us.

I love you, Kelly. I believe I've always loved you in some form or another. But I know I'm not the man for you. You need a man who will be there for you no matter what. I've always wanted to be that man for you, but I've realized I'm just not capable of it.

You deserve better than me, Kelly. Which is why this needs to be the end of us. Forever. Even if at some point in the future, I come crawling back, begging for you to give me one more chance, please don't. I don't deserve it and I don't deserve you.

Move on, Kelly. Forget about me. Please.

Yours,

Dylan

Dylan tossed his pen across the table, staring down at the letter he had just completed. It was totally inadequate. He had always been so good expressing his thoughts on paper but for some reason the words just wouldn't come. He shook his head, tossing out the idea that he shouldn't be writing these letters in the first place. That he should be returning to California to face like a man. He couldn't. He just didn't have the strength.

Sucking in a deep breath, Dylan laid Kelly's letter aside and drew out a fresh sheet of paper. He reached for his pen and began the next letter on his list to write.

Dear Brandon,

I may have just killed you.

Author's Notes:

So this one was a wee bit short, but I usually tend to keep the ones dealing with very heavy subject matter a bit shorter. If only for my sake. I hope you enjoyed it. Some of the mystery around Dylan and Brenda's breakup in London should be cleared up. But not all of it. Obviously Brenda's not dead. But now other questions arise. Why isn't Dylan in jail, for one. ;) This you will find out soon enough. Oh, and also, the whole "did Brenda cheat on Dylan" thing will be answered eventually as well.

Anyway, let me know what you guys thought. I'll try and have a new chapter up soon.

!SPOILERS!

Coming up in Chapter 12: Feed Me With Your Kiss

Brenda, Brenda, Brenda. Oh, and Ashton.

A tour of West Beverly Hills High School with an x-rated twist

Perhaps an answer or two to some of the questions that have probably arisen with this past chapter…