I do not own Bates Motel.
But, in some ways, I do own a Dylan. And I love him so much.
Yeah, Whatever
Possible
"Norma came to see me while you were gone."
Oh god. What happened? What did she say?
But Emma was smiling as they walked the hospital halls. IV hookup rattling alongside her.
"Yeah, she brought me flowers."
Oh, that's nice.
"And, uh, she thanked me for making you so happy."
Dylan's blush, though he didn't know it, was one of pure run-of-the-mill mother-son embarrassment.
Norma.
But he knew where it had come from.
You would have been proud of me, Emma. I was like you.
And he had been.
Standing there in Norma's kitchen.
While she fixated on Norman.
And pushed away any feelings . . .
"I don't like him like that."
Oh come on, you're an open book, Norma.
. . . she might be having for Romero.
"I can't think about anything but Norman right now."
And he had decided to listen.
"I'm worried about him all the time."
Quietly and calmly.
"I feel like I abandoned him."
And encourage.
"You're doing the right thing for him."
Just like Emma would have.
And Norma was finally being real.
". . . hope so. What if he says something wrong? All the secrets I've tried to hide. Things people just won't understand-"
Well, mostly real.
"I have no control over any of it and I have tried so hard for so long to try to protect him."
And she had.
Dylan realized Norma had expended nearly every bit of energy and life she had ever had just trying to protect Norman.
The problem was, where she had thought she was protecting, she was actually enabling.
And that kind of all consuming, blind, codependent love was exhausting.
Unhealthy.
Dangerous.
And he wanted to step in, interrupt, force her to see.
But he realized she was saying. . .
"Until I couldn't."
. . . things she needed to say. Needed to realize for herself.
And nobody was going to be able to do that for her.
So he stayed still and quiet.
And let her talk.
". . . it's out there. For better or for worse. It's out of my hands."
He watched her closely.
She was accepting her fate.
And Norman's.
At the moment, she seemed like she could get better.
That she had potential for healing.
Like me.
You just gotta go for it, Norma.
He realized he had real hope for her.
He wanted to.
She wasn't there yet but maybe she was on the right path it seemed.
Maybe he could support her and she really could get better.
"You know, I think it's all going to be okay, Norma. You just have to allow it to be."
We can get better, Norma.
You.
Me.
Emma.
Norman.
We can all get better.
We just have to work for it.
And help ourselves.
It's possible.
And when he had left to head back to wrap things up at the cabin, he had felt lighter.
Stronger.
Calmer.
Healthier.
Better.
Because of you, Emma.
But Dylan Massett wasn't quite ready to say everything out loud yet.
So he just smiled at her.
As she continued to talk.
About encouraging Norma.
". . . doing the right thing."
Hey, that's exactly what I said.
Cool.
". . . told her to let go a little . . ."
Er, really?
". . . breathe on her own. Think about herself a little."
Wow. Bet she hated that one.
He instantly surged with concern for Norma's reaction toward Emma offering up such healthy, normalizing advice.
Emma was in such a delicate state, still healing, she definitely did not need one of Norma Bates' Nervous Breakdown Operas of The Wounded-
"She didn't seem to like it much. But she listened."
Of course she did.
Dylan smiled to himself.
Emma Decody, the only person, who might exorcise the Devil himself.
I love you.
And he was still trying.
Weeks later.
Even knowing he was leaving soon.
And it would all be over for him.
He was trying so hard.
While Norma sat there with her back to him . . .
How do you do that? Sit with your back to the door like nobody's going to get you? I can't do that.
. . . sewing new curtains.
I didn't come here to help you Martha Stewart the drapes, Norma.
Like that was what was important right then.
Canning happily boiling away downstairs.
Damn, that's alot of jam.
While Audrey Decody went missing.
With no working phone number.
No forwarding address.
And Emma's stuffed rabbit and her mom's note stashed away . . .
". . . here, in his room."
. . . in Norman's clean-as-a-pin room.
"Say it out loud. It's gonna sound really stupid."
I think Norman did something to my girlfriend's mom, Norma.
"I'm not just gonna let this go."
Because this is insane, you must know that.
"Whatever. Do what you think you gotta do."
But you don't give a shit, do you?
"Vaya con Dios."
Cold as ice.
Or a dysfunctional mother who would do absolutely anything to harbor and shield a son who could possibly be a murdering psychopath.
Explain away . . .
". . . came by the hospital and then she came here and Emma hasn't heard from her since."
. . . all the red flags waving like crazy about this whole . . .
"You mean they were alone together?!"
. . . thing.
Acting like she hadn't paid attention . . .
"Did Emma die?"
What the HELL, Norma?!
How can you SAY that?! Don't even THINK it!
. . . to anything he had said from the beginning.
"I told you we would go to the Christmas tree thing!"
Trying to twist everything.
Bend reality.
Make him crazy.
And he just . . .
"And I really wouldn't let him come home."
. . . could not believe he was still fighting this continous, time looping hell of a battle.
As she . . .
"I already said I wouldn't!"
. . . screamed at his back as he finally fled . . .
Even, even, stay even. Walk away.
"Alright. Bye, Norma."
. . . the black hole of Norma Bates' Manic Depressive Hell he seemed to get caught up in any time they disagreed ever.
Emma, Emma, Emma. I'm coming home.
Oh please let me come home.
But how could he come home to her knowing Norman might have done something . . .
Killed. Go on, say killed. Do it. Norma.
No.
. . . to her mom?
He sat in his truck a long time thinking about that.
I. Don't. Know. For. Sure.
Not good enough.
But she'll hate me.
I didn't do it. I didn't cause it.
I didn't even know about it.
Until now.
And besides . . . there might not even be anything to know.
Coward.
Shut up.
Liar.
Shut up.
Norma.
Shut UP!
. . .
Shit.
Then he went back to his orginal defense anyway.
I don't know for sure anything happened to her.
I don't have any proof.
Then he went home to Emma anyway.
And prayed formlessly that he was right.
Because he could be.
Four months backrent.
That was a big one.
And she only disappeared three weeks ago.
So . . . maybe Norman didn't . . .
Kill.
. . . do anything to her.
It was possible.
She had just cut and run after being rejected by Will at the hospital.
A very Norma thing to do.
Except Norma had come home.
And . . .
It's possible.
But he never quite believed it.
Especially after . . .
Shit.
. . . holding the earth shattering weight of Emma's missing mother's earring in his . . .
What do I do now?
. . . clammy hand.
Whew, Norma, Norma, Norma. Right?
Anyway, nobody can say Dylan didn't try, huh?
Thanks to Lana Brown and my Kind Guest for reviewing. Very gracious of you!
Also thank you for whoever pinned the first chapter of this story to their Pinterest board. How freakin' cool is that?
*skips away giddily*