"…we were all Steve and we all felt very close to his character. He didn't have the biggest storylines but he always had the most fun." - Larry Mollin, interview with TEENDRAMAWHORE, the 17th of January in 2010.
xx
By the day of Saint Pádraig, almost everyone they knew were arguing with each other.
David argued with his sister over the recent advice she had given to his wife, advice which he convinced himself worsened their already painful situation. Brandon quarreled with David for arguing with Kelly. Steve remained furious with Andrea after their latest spat, who in turn made her own anger apparent. Everyone back in LA bickered with Brandon and Kelly upon hearing of their planned Boston move after he received a notable offer from the Globe. They further rowed with Dylan when he, along with a reassuring Brenda by his side and a pixellated Kelly via Skype, revealed the truth about Sammy Taylor's parentage to their flabbergasted friends.
Steve couldn't believe Dylan had kept something so monumental from the father of his goddaughter, who he pointed out was supposed to be Dylan's best friend. Andrea was hurt that Kelly let her believe a lie. David was incensed with his sister in particular, which deepened their rift.
The only person not argued with by any member of the gang was Brenda, who therefore received a barrage of communications detailing their various squabbles.
She did not, however, hear from Donna. The younger woman refused calls from anyone and David stated his worry that she frequently locked herself in her home office after work.
Though she could not relate to the exact reason for Donna's despondency, she did know something about depression herself. The misery Brenda had felt at losing Dylan as a teenager and then losing him again as a young adult could not even begin to compare with the utter devastation over imagining her brother dead or the emotional situation that occurred in the same season.
If it hadn't been for the constant support of Shane, Sophie and Shane's then-fiancée Katie Northam, she may have developed one vice or a few to deal with the overwhelming despair. He had frequently dragged her to his parents' house, where Lester ensured she ate a decent meal and Poppy told her sweet stories of her travels around the world to raise Brenda's spirits.
She assured David that his wife just needed some time, careful to keep the conversation about Donna's melancholia rather than the admission of her former mental state.
The Silver spouses did have three children whom she knew her friend loved immensely, but the loss of their fourth could still hurt as much as a loss of a first.
Brenda herself had never miscarried, thank God. She did, however, know all about the pain her aunt Paula suffered over her three miscarriages before turning to adoption.
And the important thing, she reminded a faltering David who had initially called them so that he would not dial his old dealer, was that their Donna was still alive, even if she couldn't be found at that moment.
Dylan recommended that David immediately seek out an NA meeting after the other man confessed that he hadn't attended since Brielle's birth and was itching for a joint.
Brenda herself researched the NA meetings closest to the Silver home, pinpointing one she insisted David attend that evening. She then texted Brandon, requesting that he find last-minute availability to help their mutual brother with an important task.
When a confused Brandon contacted David and learnt of the man's struggle, he temporarily set aside their argument and told Brenda that he had it covered.
She clung on to Dylan a little more tightly that night, forcing him to swear that he would never turn back to drugs or booze if something happened to her or to their future family. He had swallowed, nodded, whispered a promise, kissed the top of her head and then they both called Steve the following day to ask him to check on the struggling Silvers.
Steve continued his silence against Dylan, but the latter still learnt on speaker phone the rather moronic reason that the unusually moody man had earned the recent cold shoulder from Andrea.
Apparently, she had not been overly fond of Steve's insistence that she break up with Keith Christopher, on Valentine's Day.
"Okay, Steve, when I said fight for her, I didn't mean ruin her Valentine's."
"She's dating Keith, Bren. Fucking Keith!"
"Still, Andrea should be allowed a nice Valentine's date without you trying to ruin it for her."
"He's the one ruining everything. Three whole months of him always being at her house. He started picking up Mads, did you know that? Andrea will barely talk to me, so she sends fucking Keith to pick up my daughter when my girls have their weekly sleepovers. And I can't just cancel those sleepovers, or I'll be the bad guy, so instead I have to trust Keith with my kid - with my kids. Fucking Keith," he repeated.
"He seems like a perfectly nice guy."
"Brenda, that 'perfectly nice guy' drank a whole keg in one sitting at a KEG reunion!"
"Steve, I know for a fact you drank a whole keg that year your in-laws insisted on taking Maddie for the summer."
"Silver told you, huh?"
"Of course he did."
"Okay yeah, so I did that, but you're missing the point."
"And what is the point?"
Dylan teasingly murmured that Brenda should start charging for the amateur therapy sessions she continuously dished out for free.
She shushed him with her finger, which he then took into his mouth.
Stifling a laugh, she shook her head and dropped a quiet kiss to his neck.
He dove under their covers, exploring her legs with his tongue whilst she tangled her hand in his hair and sought to keep her focus on Steve.
"The point is that it's fucking Keith!" he reiterated for the fourth time.
"If I may." Emerging from the covers with a shake of his tousled hair, Dylan held out his hand for her mobile.
"Sanders," he lifted it to his ear, "you gotta tell her why this bothers you so much."
"Brenda? Did you hear something? I thought I heard something."
Staring at the phone with a combination of immense irritation and barely masked hurt, Dylan handed it back.
"Steve, you can't keep ignoring Dylan," she reprimanded, eyeing the man in question. "He's one of your best friends. He's Maddie's godfather."
"Exactly, Bren. He's supposed to be my brother. I've known him for practically my whole life, even if we only became friends through Brandon. I can't remember a time I didn't know Dylan McKay. I made him the godfather to my kid and how does he repay me?"
Steve had asked nearly the same question the night that Dylan and Kelly confessed Sammy's true parentage. He had also added that whilst he trusted Kelly with the secret of his own adoption, she obviously hadn't trusted him enough to share that she had adopted a child, too.
He had then walked out of the room before either could explain further.
"Lies to me about his own kid for years - no, my bad, his nephew," Steve emphasized. "You can tell your boyfriend that I'm not talking to Kel right now, either, so there's no double standard here."
"He says that he's not talking to -"
"Yeah, I heard him." Dylan stood to throw on the day's clothes, hurt still choreographing a marching band through his eyes. "I'm gonna get us some food." He kissed her forehead.
Brenda hated seeing the man she loved in pain over something she could not control or help him with in any way.
"Look, Steve," she continued, sitting up against her fluffed pillows once she saw the door close, "he only did what Erica asked him to do. Erica was a hot mess, she couldn't raise a kid, Kelly had struggled with getting one and, without Bran, was being turned down left and right by adoption agencies. Dylan suggested Kel raise Sammy and Erica agreed only if he raised him, too." She paused, taking a moment to catch her breath before continuing her ramble. "I guess she was terrified Sammy's real dad would try to claim him or something. Dylan did what he thought was the best thing for everyone at the time, especially Sammy. He had no idea that almost three years later, he'd get another chance with me or that my brother would return to step back into Kel's life. They did plan to tell Sammy. They weren't gonna keep it from him."
"Just sounds like you're making excuses for them, Brenda. What, are the four of you gonna do half-and-half custody of Erica's kid?"
"We're trying to figure it out. My schedule's just so crazy and I have another tour in the summer. What we're not gonna do is take Sammy from Kelly. That isn't fair to either of them and I'm not gonna be that person. Neither of us wants to be that person. Erica might be his biological mother; Kelly is his mother in every way that counts. But I'm not making excuses, Steve. It's just, what if Ryan had wanted you to keep something from Brandon?"
"Ryan would never ask me to keep something from Brando."
"Now who's missing the point?"
"Bren, you know what else McKay did? He made me lie to you. I'm the one who told you him and Kelly had a kid. I thought you deserved to know. Don thought telling you would hurt you and of course it was gonna hurt you, but I was pretty confident not telling you would've hurt you more. I couldn't even get you to ever talk to him after I did that and it was a lie the whole fucking time."
"He didn't make you lie to me. Steve, he never even told you he was Sammy's dad. He didn't tell any of you. He just didn't say that he wasn't. And it isn't a total lie; Dylan has been more of a father to Sammy than his own would've been."
"Yeah because that makes it so much better, Bren. Look, it's great that you've forgiven him for letting you think he had a kid with the ex that he cheated on you with when he didn't, but I don't have to be okay with it. I'm not gonna be mad at him forever, alright? It's not like I'll keep Mads out of his life or anything. I just need some space."
"You live five thousand miles away."
"You know what I mean. Now tell me what the fuck I'm supposed to do about Keith?"
"Help him plan his proposal to Andrea?" she snarked, silently smarting over his comments about Dylan.
He had tried to tell her the truth about Sammy the moment he saw her again, only succeeding the following week. She wondered if he would have still told her if she never showed up in California or if she would have gone the rest of her life believing her ex had a child with the woman he had twice chosen over her.
Fuck. If Brandon hadn't disappeared, none of them would be in this mess. Damn Brandon and his Pulitzer dreams.
Then again, changing her phone number right about the time that Dylan kept calling likely didn't help matters, either. He had attempted to be a friend when she needed one and he undoubtedly thought her lack of response indicated a purposeful avoidance.
He still didn't know the real reason.
"Goddammit. I didn't even think about that. You think they're gonna get married?" Steve sounded petrified, throwing Brenda out of her cogitation to instead focus on regret over her reply, even if he had riled her up. "Fuck, she's gonna have him over for Passover and Hanukkah and Hannah's bat mitzvah. He's gonna get Jesse on his side, isn't he? If Andrea's happy, Jesse will be happy. I swear they're the weirdest exes; then again, their marriage was pretty weird, too."
"Steve -"
"That whole relationship was weird. She'll have a fucking perfect one now. Fucking hell, she's gonna ask Brandon to be her Man of Honor. My best friend is gonna give her away to fucking Keith in front of some rabbi-reverend double officiant team and then he's gonna play godfather to their quadruplets!"
"I - I was kidding, Steve." She covered her laugh so he wouldn't hear. "Quadruplets? I doubt Andrea's going to have quads with Keith. It's only been three months. Have you been watching that Disney Channel movie with Maddie again?"
"That's quints, Bren. Only three months? Easy for you to say. It's been three fucking months of pure torture. I miss her. I miss Hannah." He cleared out the warble in his throat. "Fucking Keith."
"Steve, he's not trying to kick you out of Hannah's life."
"Yeah right, Bren. He's trying to be her fucking stepfather."
She reiterated that the statement had been a poorly timed joke, but Steve ended the conversation more unsure than he had been when it began.
Dylan returned with a paper bag of pain au chocolat and pastries from Brenda's favorite café, which at first went ignored when she chose to express her gratitude through a lengthy hour of physical affection.
It seemed odd, the tranquility of their lives compared to the rocky coastlines of their friends' lives - not that she was complaining.
Something must have swam from the Pacific into the Atlantic and crisscrossed the Irish Sea until it hit the Kingdom's borders, she thought as their London friends gradually began rowing as well. Levi had forgotten Benji's birthday when an opening for a prominent gig came at the last minute, which left the latter rather upset. The plastered Vee thought she saw Sophie flirting with her boyfriend, a hallucination vehemently denied by the oldest Wachinski girl. Shane argued with his in-laws over his and Katie's mutual decision to hold off on children and then argued with Howard Longley over his suggestion that Shane speak to Katie's sister, who had never been on their side about anything.
Thankfully, when Theo Fletcher popped into Brenda's dressing room after catching one of her matinees, he remained his usual cheery self.
Though she tried to not show it, being both groups' sounding board on top of her busy production which quickly gained an international audience following acclaim from the world's top theatre critics had begun to wear her thin. On a week's break from the show, Dylan surprised her with a trip to southern Ireland to celebrate St Paddy's with the locals. Flying out to join them in the earlier part of the week, Valerie found a Corkonian fling to take solace in when she noticed Brenda's surfing had improved and Valerie herself could barely stay on the board whilst attempting the aquatic sport for the first time. It was there that Dylan and Brenda found a spot along the Wild Atlantic Way to surf together. It was there that they met the Kimathis, a lovely couple from South Africa celebrating their seventieth wedding anniversary who dished out advice from their years of marital experience. It was there that they debated whether to allow Brandon and Kelly to have full custody of Sammy Taylor, despite Erica's insistence. It was there, within the emerald hills of County Kerry, that Dylan leant over the horse he rode to pull Brenda into a heated kiss on hers and it was there where, for the first time, they ensured bareback riding became a double entendre.
"Did you see the headlines?"
"Ah, hiya, girl, how are ya? Fine, yeah, thanks. And ye, Katie? What's the craic?"
"Bren, you were only in Ireland for a week," Katie reminded her, walking into the house without her typical hello.
"She hasn't been able to stop with the slang since we got back. It'll wear off eventually." Dylan greeted their friend with a quick, one-armed hug. "Just make sure she doesn't get sloshed any time soon, or she'll break out into a Cork accent."
"Ah, yeah, same thing happened when we went to Austria two years ago. Bren was stuck saying Guten morgen for almost three weeks. Rather offended her German director, I'm afraid."
"Her German accent is that bad?"
"Oh, it's worse. There's loads of accents Bren's brilliant at. German is not one of them."
"Hello. I'm standing right here," Brenda irritably pointed out.
Dylan laughed and pecked her lips.
"Bren, did you see the headlines?" Katie repeated. She helped herself to their fridge, the way Brenda and then Dylan frequently helped themselves to the Wachinski fridge.
"What headlines?"
"Brenda, he's been released."
Once, she had watched a documentary whilst studying for a character of the process explorers undergo when they climb Mount Everest. She had imagined the bitter snap of the cold, the overwhelming fear of falling, the determination to get to the other side.
She needn't have imagined for, hearing Katie's news alert, she undoubtedly teleported into a snowstorm on Everest, where the hairs on her arm raised and her breathing became labored.
The fear crept in and with the fear came the slowly forming darkness that she believed she had stamped out three years before.
"Who's been released?" Turning around to face the two women, Dylan set aside the electric kettle he had begun filling for her daily second tea.
"Bren, you have to tell him."
"Katie, I can't." They were her words, but when they left her lips, they were foreign, as if they had come from someone else who tried to converse with her despite an obvious lack of listening.
"Brenda. You live together. You're inseparable. He's gonna find out. If you don't tell him, Shane will."
"It's not that I'm purposely keeping this from him. I just don't want to think about it."
Dylan's penetrating gaze settled on Brenda, who swore the kitchen floor had become hardening wet cement surrounding her slippered feet.
"This is the thing that happened with the Keebler elf, isn't it? The reason Wachinski nearly beat him down at that party?" He asked what she knew he had spent the last three months restraining himself from asking.
She slowly sank onto the kitchen chair.
"Graham, he -" Fighting for control on her presently unsteady grasp of the English language in any accent, she clutched her cuppa. "Dylan, you have to understand that Graham didn't do anything, okay?"
"That's the problem, though, isn't it? Graham Dixon didn't do anything. He should have bloody well done something," Katie inserted, filling the rest of the kettle and setting it to boil.
"Bren," taking his own seat, he grabbed Brenda's hand across the table, "Katie, would you just tell me already? Look, I respect that Brenda doesn't wanna talk about what happened between her and WinnDixie, but if this guy is a danger to my girl, I need to know about it. I know Brenda is capable of protecting herself; she's done it for years. But she shouldn't have to."
"He's right, Bren."
"I know he's right," Brenda sighed, gulping down an encouraging spot of tea which she knew from experience would provide her the strength to delve back into the year she had tried so hard to forget.
Quivering, she told him what only the Wachinskis, Graham Dixon and apparently Iris McKay's tarot cards knew.
She told him of receiving a letter of enthusiasm from an overeager fan and then hundreds more, all from the same individual with the slanted handwriting. She told him about the breathy phone calls. She told him of the feeling of being constantly watched. She told him of the bouquets of white roses, half of them dripping in scarlet. She told him of the broken picture frame placed crookedly on the wall of her dressing room, the one of her and Brandon with their parents taken before a cancelled trip to Hawaii. She told him of Graham taking on the case in his role as the Assistant Commissioner for the City of London police force, against the advice of his colleagues who all warned him of his being too close to the situation - though at the time, neither her ex nor his department had realized exactly how close.
She faltered, unable to tell Dylan more.
"Bren, want me to take over from here?" Katie touched her arm.
Brenda nodded, burying her head into her friend's comforting shoulder.
She felt Dylan's presence in an instant, effortlessly lifting her clammy body from Katie into his soothing arms.
"Keep going, Northam." He spoke through gritted teeth. His hand gently stroked Brenda's back.
"Well, you see, Graham Dixon and his four brothers are essentially orphans. Their father was killed in The Troubles. Their mother suffered various addictions. They were all placed in care. Graham and his middle brother were adopted out of it when he was six, raised by parents who are absolutely minted. His oldest brother left for Canada. Their two other brothers remained in care. Graham's the second oldest and he always felt it his responsibility to mind his brothers. All of them, including Ringo."
Brenda's veins roped onto a glacier.
"Ringo?" Dylan tried to keep the amusement out of his voice.
"His name isn't literally Ringo. He's called that by his mates because of his tendency to sing along to the Beatles rather obnoxiously when he's mangoed. Come to think of it," Katie paused, "I don't actually know what his name is."
"Katie." He returned to his chair, this time with the shaking Brenda curled into his lap.
"Right, sorry. Graham is only close with two of his brothers. The third is a stock broker in New Zealand. The fourth - well, the fourth is Ringo. And Ringo, he's quite partial to brunettes with American accents."
"So Ringo Dixon stalked my girlfriend?" Dylan sought to keep his voice calm, but Brenda could hear the rage boiling underneath. "And his older brother, the guy dating Brenda during all of this, didn't do a damn thing about it?"
"Oh, no. No, no, no. Oh Dylan love, if only it were that simple."
"Katie," he repeated with the thinnest patience.
"When Graham discovered that his brother was the one behind everything, he kept quiet. He was convinced that if he just talked to Ringo, he could get it sorted."
"I'm guessing that didn't go so well."
"You'd be spot-on, considering the wanker eejit revealed where Brenda lived when Ringo followed Graham back to hers."
He gently pulled Brenda to look at him.
"Did -" his voice trembled, "did he -"
She shook her head.
Letting out a heavy breath, he snuggled her closely against his chest. He latched his lips to her hair, exclaiming his relief in three different languages. His hand continually caressed her back.
"But he tried," she whispered, the sentence barely audible. "He would've, if - if -"
"- if my husband and Soph hadn't shown up to Bren's when they did," Katie finished, setting a second cuppa by Brenda's empty first.
She gratefully accepted the tea.
"There was a scuffle between Shane and Ringo, Bren got caught up in the middle, she hit her head against the oven door and then she had to be in hospital for - what'd they call it, Bren? Increased intracranial pressure?"
"That's why you have this scar," Dylan murmured, tracing the mark against her hairline whilst his other hand rubbed her knuckle. "Do I know everything now?"
"Ringo," Brenda inhaled, attempting to lessen the quaver in her voice as she shifted to look at him, "he escaped police custody. Was almost to Belgium when they caught him. Shane and Katie blame Graham for it."
"His brother escaped the bobbies that called Graham their sodding Assistant Commissioner and the tosser isn't responsible? That's bollocks, Brenda. There's no way he wasn't involved." The color of Katie's features matched the russet of her hair.
"It does seem that Dixon was involved, babe." Dylan's voice remained even-tempered, which she knew meant the McKay temper was broiling within.
"We could never prove it, though, just like they couldn't prove what Ringo tried to do to Bren. If Shane and Soph would've just had camera phones, or if Ringo hadn't fled in the fight -"
"What are you saying, Northam?"
"Ringo didn't go to prison for anything he did to Brenda, Dylan. He went to prison for assaulting a bobby. He stayed in there past his eight month sentence for assaulting the prison warden."
She watched his eyes dart across the page, flick back over the previous sentence and then speed read again.
Stilling the movement of the scratching pencil with her hand, Brenda softly spoke his name.
She noticed, when his glance tore away from the draft he presently ripped apart, that his eyes were glistening.
"Oh, baby," she murmured, pressing her hand to his neck. "It's okay. I'm okay."
"Brenda, why didn't you tell any of us? I -" he swallowed, lifting her hand to nuzzle it against his cheek, "I assumed you changed your number because I kept calling. Figured you just didn't wanna talk to me. Had no clue that Cracker Jack saying it wasn't a good time was because his fucking brother put you in the hospital. Fuck, I feel like an egotistical ass."
"It was still too soon after we lost Bran. My parents were already dealing with so much. Steve was dealing with so much. Everyone was."
"You could've told me." His voice lowered. "I hate that you went through that alone."
"I didn't go through it alone."
"Yeah, I know. The two Wachinskis and Northam. I'm grateful to them, really I am. But the six of us could've flown out, could've done something. You were attacked, in the hospital and we didn't even know. We could've lost you permanently, Bren. I could've lost you permanently," he again swallowed, "after we'd already lost your brother, and none of us would've known." Taking both of her hands in his, he bowed his head to press a lingering kiss upon them. "Did Val know?"
"Val kinda went AWOL for a few months after Bran did."
"Did the other Walshes know? Bobby? Lottie? Cassidy? What about the Beevis side? Anyone?"
"No. I didn't tell any of them. Lottie had just moved to Thailand, Bobby was busy with his own family and Cassidy was swamped with her dissertation. I couldn't lay that on them after everything with Bran."
"Bren, he could've -" Her hand immediately went to his wet cheek. "He could've -"
"He didn't," she replied firmly.
"But he could've," Dylan repeated, shifting her against him. "I despised Wachinski for so long and here he was, protecting you from that creep." His lips dipped into her hair. "He did what I couldn't."
"Dyl, if you had been here, you might not have been around when Erica showed up. She needed you."
"And you needed your family, Bren." He kissed her temple. "I know you have family here, that you've built a family here, an incredible family here, but you needed everyone. You needed the gang. You needed your parents. You needed your cousins. You needed that close Midwestern thing both sides of your family have."
Laying his head on her chest, he wrapped his arms tightly around her frame.
"I thought you were happy. At the ten year, Brandon said you were happy. You weren't happy; you had a fucking stalker. Sanders was dealing with plenty of shit, yeah, but you know he still would've flown out here in a second, no questions asked. I would've, too."
"Who I needed was my brother," she spoke quietly, trying to prevent the tears in her voice from rolling onto her cheek, "and I didn't know if he was alive."
"Are you gonna tell him?"
"I can't tell him."
"Bren, it's your choice, but I think you should tell him."
"Dylan, do you know how guilty he would feel? There have been very few times in my life when Brandon wasn't there for me: the last year of high school and the first year of uni."
Dylan's own guilt flickered across his countenance, likely in comprehension of the precise reason that Brenda's brother hadn't supported her during those wretched years.
"When I saw him at Vandenberg, do you know what he did? He apologized for senior year. It was decades after it happened, we've been close again for ages, and he still apologized for not being there for me. He could actually control that, Dylan. Not being there for me during this, when he couldn't control anything? The guilt would tear him apart. I can't tell him and you can't, either."
He studied her pleading gaze.
"You want me to keep something from B? Again?"
"It's for his own good."
"You know I'd do anything for you, Bren. If you're asking me not to tell him, I won't tell him, but," he slowly intertwined their hands, "I really think you should."
He rested his forehead against hers. She breathed him in, locking his scent into her mental data bank - the one that always seemed to carry the ocean breeze, or perhaps it simply invoked a fond memory of their carefree adolescence spent amongst the waves.
"Is that why you ended things with Scooby Snacks?" he murmured.
"No, Graham and I broke up when my gyno told me the likelihood of my infertility."
"Wait, hold on. You stayed with him even after what his brother did to you and the bastard still goes and dumps you because the doc claimed you couldn't have kids?" Rage leapt through his eyes. It was an odd emotion for him to bear during a discussion of her breakup with an ex.
"Simmer down, bronco. I broke up with him. He really wanted kids. It seemed pretty likely that I couldn't have any. I told him to find a woman who could. I guess that woman is Clare."
He calmed only slightly.
"Was it weird for you? Seeing Dixieland with Clare?"
"Is it weird for you? Seeing Bran and Kel?"
"You know, it actually isn't." He caressed her thigh. "It feels right, Bren. He's got his girl and I've got mine. We're never entering that goddamn square again."
"What if I want to square dance?" she joked.
"Do you wanna square dance?"
"No, I'll leave that to them, but I like knowing the option is available."
"I'm open to anything, as long as we do it together."
She sealed their promise with a kiss, which became a moan, then a rocking bed, a tumble through the sheets and finally, a tucked head into the sweaty crook of his neck.
"You forgot to answer my question, Bren," he reminded her, still intimately connected. "Was it weird for you? Your ex and Clare?"
"It was weird seeing Clare, period, but Graham's free to move on with whomever."
"If you ask me, the guy should be locked up."
"Dylan, we don't know that he did help," she shakily continued, "Ringo to escape. It's just Shane's theory and Katie goes along with it. Soph isn't so convinced."
"I'm with Wachinski and Northam on this, but that's not what I mean, babe. He should've reported what he knew. I get trying to be there for your sibling - if anyone gets that, I sure as hell do - but if he'd reported it, then maybe you would've been safe. If Dixon loved you like Bran told me he did, he should've chosen you over protecting his brother." He gently kissed her scar. "Then you wouldn't have this."
She, in turn, kissed his. It had faded somewhat over the years, but still remained noticeable on his brow.
His lips trailed down her face, over to her shoulder, into her breasts and slowly down to her navel.
"I fucking love you, Brenda. No one is ever gonna hurt you again. Not me, not anyone. Especially not goddamn S'mores and his fucking psycho brother. I swear."
He then carried her into their shower, where he proceeded to show her multiple times why breaking up with Graham Dixon - though an exceedingly difficult choice at the time - had ultimately transformed into one of the best decisions of her life.
Because in the end, it had brought her back to Dylan McKay.
It had taken her home.
-x
Slang: Mangoedis a strictly Katie Wachinski word for drunk, not actual British slang as far as I am aware. Bobbyis uncommon/more archaic British slang for police, which also seemed a Katie thing. What's the craic? is one of the fantastic ways the Irish say "What's up/How goes it," though evidently, it began in the UK.
There are a substantial number of OC's in Illumination. Curious which one, if any, has captured your attention the most. Also, are there any OC's mentioned in here that you would like to meet?
Thank you for all the lengthy replies to the custody question. It's given me quite a bit to consider. At the moment, Bren's schedule is way too chaotic for a toddler, so B/K will presently have primary custody of Sammy. This will undoubtedly be revisited in the future (I still don't know how far into the future Illumination will go.) I cannot, however, see either half of B/D willingly taking a child from its mother, which Kelly is - certainly more so than Erica - especially since Bren isn't that kind of person and Dylan was raised without his. It would also cause a massive gash in their relationships with Brandon, which I refuse to do to the trio. I like the six month idea, before Sammy starts school. I also quite like Crystal's idea of having B/D and B/K sit down to hash it out with Erica because while Dylan is Sammy's uncle, we all know that boy canonically should have been Brandon's (and looked like Steve's. Dylan's kid my ass.)
Crystal: Fully agree on everything you said, especially on Kelly's real choice. She moved back onto Bran awfully fast for someone who supposedly chose herself.
Speaking of Brandon: I love Dylan's relationship with his goddaughter in here and other fics, but what the hell - did Steve think his kid's godfather couldn't be on the other side of the country, or something?! I'll never understand Steve selecting Dylan over Bran. I chalk it up to a lame push at D/K, since they selected Kelly to be godmother (over Donna? Ah okay…) But I digress, since the notes of this chapter are beginning to get lengthy.
As always, thanks a million for the readership, reviews, alerts, likes, favourites, discourse, plot ideas, etc!