I do not own Bates Motel.

But, in some ways, I do own a Dylan. And I love him so much.

Yeah, Whatever

Brother

If there was a real, living, Hell, Dylan Massett was in it.

And right across from him, his baby brother.

Norman, all spruced up and spiffy and clean.

Bruised up face at the height of welcome and politeness.

The formerly trashed kitchen spic and span.

Yummy, filling, homey meal set out, hot and inviting.

Patsy Cline crooning on the antique record player.

And Norma, two years dead and moldering in the next room.

Oh god.

Dylan had vomited, thrown up, right onto the carpet at the sight of her.

A corpse.

His mother's corpse.

Dress wilting. Makeup running.

Oh god, she's melting like an ice cream cake.

Hollowed-eyed and slumped.

Sitting at the dinner table.

And Dylan was sure he was going to die.

Norman, of course, was more than compassionate.

"Poor Dylan. This has all been too much for you."

Oh god, Norma, oh god-

"I'm sorry we moved without telling you."

What? Where are you?

"You just got overexcited. Here. Sit down."

Nonono-

"Sit down with Mother."

Are you fucking kidding me?!

Dylan, staggering and stumbling, finally found his voice.

"Norman, stop! Stop what you're doing!"

Following him almost blindly back into the kitchm.

"You're not living in the real world, you have to stop this!"

Dylan was hysterical and wild with terror and revulsion and fear.

"Norma is dead! This is her body! You brought her body here!"

Insane, so insane, Norman was more insane than Dylan could have ever dreamed.

"Well, I disagree."

Are you kidding? Are you serious?!

"It's not something you can agree or disagree with!"

Tears were burning in his eyes, along with the stench of Norma Bates slightly moldering corpse and the hot, juicy smell of the pot roast sitting on the counter.

"She's dead, Norman!"

Norman bruised face pinched and he waved a finger warningly in the air.

"Stop it, Dylan! Stop saying that!"

As if he were trying to get him to clean his room or something.

"You have to deal with it! You have to come and you have to turn yourself in and we need to get you help!"

Emma, oh god, Emma, Emma-

"That's what you want for me? To be shut up in some prison for the criminally insane and drugged out of my mind?!"

He was advancing now, advancing.

And Dylan was afraid and distraught.

And completely unhinged.

"I don't know what I want for you! What I really want is for something that can never happen, okay?!"

Confessing, now he was the one that was confessing.

Falling apart.

"I want you to be happy, I want you to be well! I want Mom to be alive again!"

Voice choked with tears and regret and misery.

"I want both of you guys to meet my daughter! I want to have Christmases together, okay?!"

I just want to have a family! A real family that is okay! That's all I've ever wanted!

If Norma were only alive and not rotting in the dining room, Dylan would gladly suffered through a million awkward holiday meals and get togethers.

Gladly turn the other cheek when Norma gave him shit for whatever it was she thought he had done.

"I want all these things to have never happened!"

Jesus, how are any of us supposed to live after this now?!

But Norman had an answer for that too.

"Well, if you believe hard enough, you can make it that way."

"No, no, you can't!"

It's not Disney World, Norman!

And he was upsetting Norman, pushing him too far, God knew what he was going to do if Dylan didn't ease up.

But he didn't care, he was the one completely out of his mind now because his dead mother was siting in the next room, and his baby brother was trying to make him believe that was okay.

"You can't."

Norman, tears standing in his eyes, turned away then.

And moved to the sink.

Maybe he had finally gotten through to him, say it was over and they could leave this house of horrors beh-

And then Norman turned around with the knife.

And Dylan found his gut could twist and lurch further.

"What are you doing?"

"I can't let you take me away from her!"

And Norman was advancing again, raising the knife and Dylan pulled out the gun, feeling the metal cold and heavy in his hand.

Keep it down, keep it aimed at the floor-

"Put down the knife, Norman."

With bizarre unexpected flair, Norman held out his arms a little.

"This is how it ends, isn't it?"

And Dylan, crying and holding a loaded firearm against the onslaught of his insane little brother, reached out once more.

"It doesn't have to. Put the knife down."

Shuffling back, raising the gun, Norman raising the knife, edge glinting.

"I just want to be with her, Dylan."

He wants to die. He wants to die and he wants me to do it.

"Don't ask me to do this."

Please, how can I live if I do?

And then Norman was lunging and Dylan's finger was reflexively squeezing the trigger-

And gun went off and it was deafening and Norman's body falling against him wasn't as heavy as it should be and the knife was wobbling in the wall next to Dylan's head.

And they were sliding to the floor and Dylan was crying and whimpering and apologising and holding his brother so tightly and protectively,

Barely able to breathe for the tears and snot cloying his sinuses.

"I'm sorry, Norman. I'm sorry."

And he was kissing his dying brother's head, holding him in a tight, loving embrace.

Crying freely and loudly as his brother's lifeblood drained from his rail-thin body.

And a strange small smile touched the corner of Norman's bloodied lips and he exhaled two simple words of relieved gratitude.

"Thank you."

Whoa. Just whoa. Right.

Okay, the remaining chapters are original taking place after the series finale. And I really think they some of the best here.

Please enjoy. :)