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Another day passed by, which would be followed by another and another after that. Cindy and Jim took their kids to a psychiatrist who specialized in trauma.
Dr. Lenore Mason. Or Dr. Mason as she preferred her clients to call her.
Brenda was sitting on the couch, nervously rocking herself back and forth, while Brandon was up pacing around. "I don't need a shrink!" He kept insisting.
Dylan was sitting next to Brenda. "Just go in and talk to her, then if you still don't need a shrink, don't come back."
Brandon shot him a glare, then went back to pacing.
The psychiatrist stuck her head out the door. "Brenda Walsh?"
Brenda stood up, then followed Dr. Mason into her office.
It took about two in a half hours to get out of there and back to the house. Jim and Cindy went to make dinner, while Brenda and Brandon stayed outside with Dylan. "Talking about it kind of made me feel better," Brenda spoke up.
"Thats good, Bren," Dylan kissed her forehead. "What about you?" He asked, glancing at Brandon.
Brandon shrug. "Talking didn't help me any. Those guys are still out there, and are still willing to kill someone."
"Then turn them in," Brenda said, crossing her arms. "That's the only way we'll be safe."
Brandon shook his head. "I can't do that."
She sighed. "Why not? Is it because of Rachel? Seems to me that she only cares about herself."
Brandon glanced at her. "No, okay? I'm not turning them in." He sighed, rubbing his forehead. "I'll see you later." He pulled out his keys, then headed to his car.
"Where are you going?!" Brenda called after him, but he didn't answer. She watched him back out of the driveway.
"Want me to follow him and try to keep him out of trouble?" Dylan asked, volunteering himself.
Brenda was tempted to take him up on his offer, but she shook her head. "Nah, i'm sure he'll be okay. Just stay. We can catch a movie, go to the beach, something."
Dylan smiled. "Sure, it's a date."
She smiled back, then kissed him. "Sounds fun."
Rachel was out on the dance floor with some drunk that she had just met. Her friends were still at the counter with drinks in hand, watching her. She waved to them. "Okay, i'm done dancing for now," she said to the drunk as she stumbled off the dance floor, almost running in to someone.
"Sorry-" she started to apologize when she noticed who it was. "Brandon?" She glanced around, looking for her friends.
Brandon glanced at her. "Rachel?"
She flashed him a nervous smile, then took the empty glass out of his hand. "I didn't know you drank? How many of these have you had?"
"I don't drink!" He growled. "I use to tell my parents that drinking and driving is one of the stupiest things a person could do. And now look, I'm drinking just because I can!"
She glanced at him in confusion. "What are you talking about?" Then she shook her head. "Never mind. How much have you had?"
He shrug. "I dunno. I lost count three drinks back."
She sighed. "At least let me drive you home?"
He shook his head. "No thank you. I can drive myself."
It wasn't long before her friends found her. "Is Walsh bothering you, Rachel?"
Rachel shook her head. "Of course not. Come on, Shane, let's just go now."
Shane shook his head. "Not yet. Let's go for a walk, kid. We have a lot to chat about."
Once outside, Shane pushed him against the side of the building. "Told anyone about us?" He asked.
Brandon shook his head. "No.. your secret is safe with me."
Shane clenched his fist, then punched him in the stomach. "Good, let's keep it that way. Your sister is pretty, it would be ashamed of something happened to her because you couldn't keep your mouth shut." He punched him again. "Am I clear?"
Brandon just nodded.
Shane smirked, then shoved him to the ground. "This will be the last we talk." He pulled out his pocket knife, then put the blade against his neck. "Don't make me regret letting you go." He put his knife up, then signaled to the others. "Let's go."
Rachel waited for them to leave, then knelt down beside him. "Come on, Brandon, let me drive you home."
Brenda and Dylan had spent most of the day at the beach, but they had also gone out to a movie. She kissed him in the car. "Well, I'll talk to you later," she got out of the car, then crept towards the house, easing the door open.
Jim and Cindy was still up, and in the living room scolding Brandon who had just gotten home. "This behavior is unacceptable!" Jim hissed.
Brenda peeked around the corner into the living room.
Jim was furiously pacing around, Cindy was sitting on the couch, and Brandon was sitting beside her with his face buried in his hands. "Your sister is upstairs asleep where you should be!" Jim hissed again.
Cindy sighed. "Lets just all go to bed and finish this talk in the morning," she suggested, yawning.
Brenda sighed, then slowly and carefully crept towards the stairs, but she was noticed before she got very far. "Hold it, young lady!" Jim's angry voice rose up behind her. "We thought you was in bed?!"
"We should finish this talk in the morning," Cindy repeated.
Brenda breathed a sigh of relief as she headed upstairs. "What is up with you today?" She asked, following Brandon into his room. "You hardly ever get in trouble."
Brandon glanced at her. "I went out, got drunk, almost got beat up, then came home late." He shrug halfheartedly, then sat down on edge of the bed.
She sat down beside him. "What's gotten into you? You don't drink, and you almost always obey the curfew."
He chuckled at that even though nothing was funny. "So pretty much what you're saying is that I'm a goody goody. Has it ever occurred to you that I'm tired of that? I'm tired of playing by the rules all the time."
She glanced at him in confusion. "Brandon? What are..?"
He got up then pulled her to her feet. "It means to get out of my room!" He pushed her out the door.
"Brandon..?" She turned around in time to see the door slam in her face. She knocked on it. "Brandon? Come on, open up! It's me!" She sighed, then went back to her own room. She would let him cool off tonight, and she would try again in the morning.
After he had slammed the door, Brandon leaned against it. What had gotten in to him? He wasn't rebellious. He wasn't one of those kids who would do the opposite of what his parents told him to do. So Brenda had the right to worry.
He walked over to the bed. "I'm sorry.." he murmured to no one in particular. But who was he apologizing to? Brenda? His parents? Charlie?
Charlie pulled his car into the parking lot of the Peach Pit and started inside when his phone rang, so he had pulled it out to answer it. But then before he had even finished the call he was stabbed by an angry student.
"Charlie?!" Brandon hopped over the counter and out the door to where Charlie was lying, already dead. Even though it was hopeless, Brandon gave him chest compressions while some one else dialed 911.
He didn't notice the rescue personnel when they pulled up, until somebody in uniform led him away from the body. "Sorry, kid.. he's dead..."
"He's dead.."
Brandon quickly sat up, breathing heavily. He didn't even remember falling asleep. He glanced at the clock on the nightstand. 4:30 A. M. He dragged himself out of bed, then decided to take a quick shower. Maybe the refreshing cool water would take his mind off things.
Brenda walked downstairs to where her parents were already cooking breakfast. "Where's Brandon at this morning?"
Cindy shrug. "I think there was something that he wanted to take care of so he left early this morning."
"Even though he's probably still in trouble for last night?"
Cindy sighed. "He got into a heated argument with your father this morning and stormed out. Do you know what's going on with him lately?"
Brenda shook her head. "No. His personality started to change after the second shootout at the Peach Pit."
Dylan followed him into the shop. "Brandon, are you sure about this?" He asked for what seemed like the hundredth time. "I don't think this is a good idea, especially in your state of mind."
Brandon spun around to face him. "What's that suppose to mean?!"
Dylan sighed. "Come on, let's just get out of here. We can take a few self defense classes, but this isn't the way to go."
"You would know, wouldn't you?" Brandon murmured, then went to talk to the guy in charge.
"Hold up a moment, sir," Dylan told the guy, then he grabbed Brandon's arm and turned him around to face him. "Don't do this, man. Violence is not the answer."
"Then what is?!" Brandon asked, desperation sounded in his voice. "Watching someone die in front of you? Those jerks deserve what's coming to them! And I'll make sure they'll pay for what they did. Killing Charlie, scaring everyone who was at the Peach Pit, everything."
Dylan decided to make one last attempt to reason with him. "Go to the cops, turn them in. That's better than getting life in jail for murder!"
Brandon shook his head. "I go to the cops and they might come after Brenda. But this way I can make sure that they will never hurt anyone again! Justice will be served, one way or another." He spun around and went back to talk to the guy in charge.
Everybody has a dark side, right? Well, I'm exploring Brandon's. His only dark side we got to see on the show was when his gambling addiction got out of hand.I'm trying to come up with more storylines here. But so far I only got Brandon's. Brenda may get fed up with him and her parents and move into Dylan's house which may drive them both crazy. (Like was in an actual episode.) Not sure yet though.As always please follow, favorite or review. Toodles!