Twenty-six

I was sitting in an empty church. The pew that I was resting on was soft on my fingers. I glanced up at the front of the church, seeing an open casket. The wood was dark and shined in the dim light given off by a plump full moon that shined outside the windows. I stood up, feeling out of my body, and started to walk up to the casket, vaguely wondering who was in it. The last funeral that I'd been to had been my dad's, but I doubted that it was him in that casket. For some reason I knew that it wasn't him.

My feet started to feel heavy as I got closer and closer to where the body was lying and the air seemed to be stolen from the room. It was hard to breathe. I put my hand on my chest, feeling my heart flutter wildly. I drew a shaking breath and took another step towards the coffin, wanting more than anything to see who was in it. A sense of dread filled me as I stood on the stair, right before I saw who was lying dead, but I didn't recognize it until it was too late.

There, with blue lips and cold white skin, with his eyelids slid closed over his eyes, his hands resting on his chest, laid Dylan. I stopped breathing completely. Dylan. Dead. Dylan. No. This can't be real. My entire body was shaking uncontrollably. My hand rose on its own and I extended it over Dylan's body. I knew that body so well. Memories flew through my mind: Dylan holding himself above me, smiling at me after our first kiss, him holding me while I slept, how gentle his fingers were when they'd tuck a piece of hair behind my ear, his smell, his eyes, his laughter, everything that I'd seen him do.

"Dylan…" my voice was weak. I lowered my hand and touched his cheek with my fingertips, but I pulled back immediately. His skin was ice cold. I let out a mangled sob and shook my hand, trying to get the feeling of his freezing skin off of me. I fell to my knees, tears streaming down my face. Dylan was dead. Dylan was dead.

Dylan was dead and it was my entire fault.

XXX

I jolted awake and stared into the darkness, trying to get the air inhaled that I'd lost in my dream. I was crying, and I couldn't stop. I felt Dylan stir beside me and I turned to him, grabbing his arm. He groaned and propped himself up on his elbow, yawning widely.

"Mel?"

"Oh God," I breathed, throwing my arms around his neck so I could hug him. He grunted and one of his hands came up to the back of my neck to hold me, but he seemed disoriented. "Thank God you're okay. I love you so much, Dylan…"

"Mel, what's wrong?" Dylan asked blearily. I shook my head and continued to hug him tightly, waiting for the rise and fall of his chest so I knew he was breathing and wasn't dead, like he'd been in my dream. I sobbed uncontrollably, clinging to Dylan. He sat up and pulled me into his lap, calming running his fingers through my hair, staying quiet while I got rid of all my tears. Finally, after about ten minutes, I was able to detach myself from him. I sniffed heavily, wiping tears from my face. Dylan's hand cupped my cheek, and his thumb stroked my cheekbone. "Bad dream?"

I nodded, suddenly feeling very stupid. This was the second time that I'd woken him up with my nightmares, and I always ended up crying after them. He was probably tired of me doing this to him. I took a steadying breath and closed my eyes so more tears wouldn't cascade down my face. Pain shot through my forehead and I pressed a cool hand to it, breathing in through my nose and out of my mouth methodically so I would calm down.

"What happened?" Dylan asked quietly. His voice was so tender and full of worry that I opened my eyes out of surprise. He didn't seem angry at me for waking him up, instead he seemed genuinely worried. I let out a shaky sigh and leaned against him again.

"I…I don't want to talk about it."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

"Do you want me to get you something? Water? Food? Are you sure you're alright?"

I smiled weakly and nodding, placing my hand over Dylan's, which was still on my cheek. "I'm fine, I promise. I just needed to calm down."

"Okay…I'll get you something if you need it. Really, it's not a problem."

"I'm okay, Dylan. Thank you, though." I pressed my lips against his for a brief second, trying to forget how cold his skin had been in my dream. When I pulled away from him, I smiled and yawned, suddenly feeling very tired. "Can we go back to sleep? I'll try not to cry this time."

Dylan smiled and nodded, lying back down with me. He held me close to him, his breath warming the back of my neck. I snuggled closer to his chest, feeling his heartbeat on my back. I tried to force the sight of him lying in a casket out of my mind as I fell asleep, but it kept reappearing. I could almost feel the cold that had been on his skin in my dream on his arm, which was draped over me, but I knew that I was just tricking myself. I was making everything much harder on myself.

Dylan is alive. I told myself. He's alive. Nothing's going to happen to him.

XXX

"You're doing what?" I asked Norman the next morning as I started to wash out the cup that I'd drank my coffee in. He smiled at me and took another bite of his bacon, seeming calm. We were alone in the house: Norma was already in the office of the motel doing whatever she could find to occupy herself and Dylan was at work, and we were talking about Norman's newest interest.

"I'm going to work with Emma's dad on Juno. I still want to have her, you know, and this is the best way to keep her since she got hit."

"That's really creepy, Norman," I told him, going to sit by him again. "Most people just bury their pets when they die. Are you sure you want to constantly be reminded that your dog got hit by a car by having its…carcass just sitting there? Doesn't that seem a bit morbid?"

"It's not morbid; people do it all the time when they kill a deer or something." Norman said.

"Yeah, but they meant for that animal to die. This was accidental. Wouldn't it be better for Juno if she were, uh, laid to rest?"

Norman shook his head. "This is my way of putting her at peace. This way we'll still be able to be with each other."

"I'm sorry, but I find that extremely weird," I said, smiling a little at the end of my sentence to take away from the bite that I'd said it with. Norman chuckled and shrugged, continuing to eat.

"Well, once you see her finished, I'm sure it won't be that weird. I kind of excited to get started, actually."

"Most boys take up football or archery or something that oozes manliness, but no, you're deciding to stuff dead animals." I laughed to myself as I started on my breakfast. "You are one different guy, Norman. But hey: to each his own."

"Thank you for not being too freaked out." Norman said, wiping the corners of his mouth with his napkin. "I don't think my mother is too happy about it, but so far she hasn't come right out and said that. She thinks it's weird."

"Everyone thinks it's weird. But that's the craft, you know. I guess if you think about it with the right mindset it can be kind of cool, but it's almost taboo. I dunno. As long as you're not going to be shoving some dead animal in my face, I'm alright with it."

Norman smiled at me and I returned it, not wanting to make him feel any worse than he already did. He'd dropped off Juno at Emma's dad's shop last night after she was hit by a car and died, and he was going to work with Mr. Decody today to start preserving Juno. I thought it was creepy, yes, but I didn't want to make Norman think that he was a freak for doing something like this. It was a hobby that he wanted to take up, and I was glad that he was going to have something to get him out of the house. He almost never left except for when we had to go to school, and I figured that was unhealthy. At least I went to go see my grandparents as often as I could.

Checking his watch, Norman stood and collected his plate and his silverware hastily, obviously late, and deposited them in the sink. He started the water to rinse them off, but I stopped him. "I got it. You can go on."

"Oh, thanks Melanie." He ran out of the kitchen and started down the driveway, flicking the collar of his coat up against the wind and rain. I watched him go, not sure what to make of his newest interest. Was it healthy for a teenage boy to want to stuff his dead dog after he'd watched it get hit by a car? I wasn't exactly sure, but it did fit in with things that I thought Norman would do. He was unique, to say the least, and taxidermy seemed to fit right in with him. I shrugged off the disgust that thinking about him cutting Juno open and removing her insides gave me and instead focused on washing the dishes that Norman had left me.

XXX

I was in the hallway at my locker with my eyes glued to my phone, responding to a text that Dylan had just sent me, when I first heard the rumor. One of the somewhat popular girls that hung out with Bradley's group when they needed to seem bigger and more intimidating had the locker beside me and she was talking to her friend about something when she came over to put her bag away, and I couldn't help but hear because her nasally voice could be heard from miles away.

"Yeah, I was talking to Marissa earlier in the hallway and she told me that Tasha told her that Emma Decody—you know, the weird girl with the tubes in her nose—said that Norman Bates and Bradley Martin had sex. Can you believe it?"

The girl's friend, whom I'd never taken the time to learn the name of, gasped at this information and put her hand up to her mouth. Her too far apart eyes widened and she shook her hair back so that she could see past her bangs easier. "Are you serious?!"

"Hell yeah I'm serious! That's what I heard, at least, and I heard it from a reliable source."

"So you think it's true?"

"I don't know." The girl took a breath dramatically and adjusted her long necklace, puckering her overly glossed lips so she'd look like she was thinking it over. I could tell from the gleam in her eyes that she was enjoying spreading the rumor, though, and I felt my blood begin to boil. I kept my mouth shut and pretended like I was still texting so I could hear everything that this girl knew. "I mean, Bradley is so far out of Norman's league, I doubt that she'd even let him finger her. But you never know…I've heard that Richard cheated on her, so maybe she was getting him back. It'd be a good way to, too. Hook up with the new guy just to show Richard that she has other options."

The girl with eyes that were too far apart to really be appealing said "But still, why would she cheat on Richard?! He treats her so good! And he's hot as Hell,"

"I know, I know. I guess we'll just have to wait to see how Bradley reacts to the rumor." The girl that had the locker beside me slammed it shut and tossed her dried-out hair over her shoulder, starting to walk down the hallway with her lackey trailing beside her. "Honestly, Norman Bates, though. Who'd have thought?!"

I watched them leave, my mouth gaping open. How had people found out that Norman and Bradley had sex? Had Norman told someone thinking that it would make him seem cool or desirable? No, I couldn't see Norman doing that. Hooking up with Bradley had been special to him, and he wasn't the type to kiss and tell. I broke my gaze from the retreating backs of the girls and slammed my locker shut, shoving my phone deep in my back pocket. I needed to find Norman and talk to him. Luckily, our next class was together, so I'd be able to confront him then.

My phone vibrated in my back pocket and I pulled it out, disregarding the dirty look thrown my way by a teacher. I knew they didn't like it when students had their phones out, but they never did anything to keep us from using them during school. I glanced down at the text I'd gotten as I hurried to class, dodging freshman that decided to play football in the hall with a wad of paper.

Think you can ditch today?

It was from Dylan. I sighed and shook my head, skirting past a couple that was making out. The guy was groping the girl in front of anyone that wanted to watch, and I had to hold back a gag. What they were doing didn't look appealing. I wondered if that was what Dylan and I looked like when we kissed. No, we were much gentler. Besides, when he touched me like that guy was touching that girl, it didn't look like he was trying to remove my breast.

Wish I could, but I have way too much stuff to do. I think your brother is about to be in a load of shit too.

I pushed open the door of my first class and sat down in a desk near the door, sliding some of my books underneath my desk. I opened my binder to a fresh page and set my pen on top of it, refocusing my attention on my phone as the screen lit up with a new text. I unlocked the screen and read it.

What do you mean? Is he in trouble?

Somehow people found out about him and Bradley. Someone must have told. Everyone in school knows about it, I think.

"Melanie Fitzgerald, I expect that phone out of sight as of right now." I looked up and felt a blush rush to my cheeks at the sight of my teacher staring down at me. The entire class erupted in giggles at me getting in trouble and I sighed and stuffed my phone back down into my pocket, ignoring the vibration that was sent through my leg as I received another text from Dylan. I rolled my eyes when I heard someone snicker beside me and uncapped my pen, preparing to take the extensive notes that my teacher always required of us. I tried to not think about Norman ruining anything that he could've had with Bradley by spreading this rumor, but I couldn't help but think that there was no going back from telling people about their private night together.

XXX-Dylan's POV

Melanie said she wanted a gun. I chewed on my thumb nail as I sat on the cot inside the tent that I used while on guard, not exactly sure what to do. I knew that she was safe with her knife, but what happened when she had already used it, had already thrown it, and was still in danger? Then she was screwed. I wasn't sure if she really needed a gun, or if she just felt guilty that she hadn't been able to help me much when Shelby and I had our little showdown. But did I want her to be able to put herself in dangerous situations with me? I shook my head to answer my own question. No, if there was danger, I wanted Melanie out of harm's way and wanted her to have no excuse to be a hero.

Still, it could be useful to teach her how to use a gun. I could take her out in the woods one day and show her how to safely shoot a pistol and a rifle. Then if we were in the forest alone, we could…I sighed and steered my thoughts away from that. Melanie was young and innocent and I shouldn't try and rush things. Still, sleeping in the same bed as her every night, I couldn't help but wonder when she was going to be ready.

It wasn't so much that I wanted the pleasure for myself, it was more that I wanted the feeling of intimacy that came with being with someone in that way. I wanted to show Melanie how much I loved her other than just saying it and kissing her, because neither of those were enough. Remo glanced back at me, a look of distaste still dominating his features when he'd look at me. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at him. My phone started to buzz from where I'd set it on my thigh and I glanced at the caller ID. I was disappointed to see that it wasn't Melanie telling me that she'd left school early (though I knew I wouldn't even be able to see her) and I answered it somewhat officially.

"Hey, it's Dylan." I grimaced when Remo scoffed. If I wasn't still hurt, I would've given anything to have punched him.

"Yeah, we just brought in the harvest from the Red Creek field. I need you and Remo to go down to California and get the trimmers." I listened to Gil's voice, my brow furrowed. What the hell were trimmers?

"Okay, sounds good."

"Everything's set up. They'll be waiting for you tomorrow. Three o'clock P.M., Twin Eagles Motel in Fortuna."

"Yeah, um…" I glanced up at Remo and lowered my voice so he wouldn't be able to hear me as easily. "What exactly are trimmers?"

Gil chuckled on the other side of the line and I glanced down at my feet, embarrassed by my lack of knowledge. "Get Remo to explain it to you. He's made the run about twenty times."

I left the phone on my ear for a few seconds even after Gil had hung up, not wanting to look at Gil even though I knew he was staring at me. I hated that I was so inexperienced; it just gave the prick even more to make fun of me for. I finally glanced up at him to see him sneering at me.

"It was Gil," I told him. "He wants us to go down to Fortuna and pick up the trimmers."

"What exactly are trimmers?" he mocked. "Really? You don't know what a trimmer is?"

"Why don't you explain it to me?" I asked him icily.

He sighed. "How 'bout I don't? Here comes Ronnie and Don. I'll get the van and pack up."

"Wait, pack up what?"

"It's an overnight trip, nimrod. Pack a change of clothes…or not. You want me to come over and pick your clothes out for you?"

"Okay," I said, wishing I was partnered with anyone but Remo. "Let's just go."

I grabbed my pistol and put my phone in my pocket, suddenly remembering that I'd be leaving Melanie. We hadn't really been away from each other since we'd started seeing each other, and with her having nightmares so often, I wasn't sure how she'd do without me. Surely she'd be okay for one night alone. Besides, if she had a bad dream, she could call me and talk to me. It wouldn't be the same as having me there in person, but it would be enough.

What were her nightmares about, anyways? The one that she'd had last night must have been much worse than previous ones, because she was hysterical. She had refused to even discuss it with me, which was odd. I knew that she didn't like to seem weak, but usually she'd at least tell me what was wrong. Could her dreams have something to do with why she insisted that she needed a gun? Were they about Abernathy and his threats? I chewed on the inside of my cheek at the thought of him, feeling anger cloud my thoughts.

That guy was trouble. I didn't like him from the moment I saw him, but Norma seemed to think that any business was fine, even if it was from an obvious criminal like Abernathy. Somehow he needed to leave, but I doubted that he'd do it on his own. Was there any way that I could scare him into leaving? I remembered the night that he'd first come to the motel, how I'd tried to intimidate him but he'd seemed totally unfazed. I was taller and burlier than him, but he still didn't seem threatened in the least. Maybe he carried a firearm.

"Hey," Remo snapped me out of my thoughts and I looked at him from the passenger seat of the Jeep that we were in. "Pull your head out of your ass and hand me a beer."

"At least wait until you're driving alone to drink." I snapped. "I'd rather not die today because of you."

"Oh shut up you pansy." He reached past me and grabbed a beer from the back seat. "I'm the least of your worries. Now when you go home, why don't you Google what a trimmer is."

"Yeah, yeah," I muttered, looking at the forest as we sped up a path. I wished that I was still partners with Ethan. He was someone I could stand, unlike Remo. I felt a pang of sorrow go through my chest at the thought of Ethan and his untimely end. I missed him. I couldn't help but feel like his death was somehow my fault. I was responsible for three deaths: Ethan's, the bastard that killed Ethan, and Shelby. I had never thought that I could kill a person, but I'd killed three. Ethan had been indirect, but I felt like I hadn't done enough to help him when he was shot. Was it my fault?

"What's your girlfriend's name?"

"Huh?"

Remo huffed quietly. "Your girlfriend, what's her name?"

"Oh. Melanie."

"Melanie? Melanie Fitzgerald?" Remo looked at me, his eyes wide. I nodded.

"Yeah, that's her. You know her?"

"Knew her dad…and her brother…heard about her mom…heard about her grandparents, too. That family…damn. You're one brave guy." Remo said grimly. I looked over at him questioningly.

"What're you talking about?"

He glanced over at me. "You don't know about her family?"

"No. She doesn't like to talk about them."

"Good reason not to. The Fitzgerald family is the most hated in town. Let's just say, they got in a lot of shit that they couldn't get out of. As far as I know, the girl is the only sane one in the bunch, but I'd keep an eye on her if I were you. She could cause a lot of trouble."

"Melanie couldn't do anything bad even if she wanted to." I growled, my defenses immediately coming up at the mention of Melanie. This son of a bitch didn't know what he was talking about; Melanie wasn't a bad person, and I had no idea what he was talking about with her family. Surely she couldn't come from a shady background...she was too sweet and caring to come from people that were anything other than loving.

Remo snorted and shook his head. "I wouldn't be so sure of that. With a family like hers…she could be capable of a lot. I'd be careful around her if I were you."

A/N: It's summer! Yayyyy! I'll be able to write a lot more now that I have a lot of free time. I hope you all like this chapter, it was kind of hard for me to write because I've been tired and it's hard for me to focus because I've been distracted with reading The Walking Dead comics (I love the show so I just had to get the comics, and I'll tell you, they're pretty awesome).

Thank you to everyone that's read and reviewed and has been part of this story! Feel free to PM me if you're not comfortable leaving a review, I love to hear from you all! But, if you're okay with doing it, please review and tell me what you thought about this chapter! It makes my day to get reviews and it makes writing so much more enjoyable! xx