Women around her were prone to unconsciousness.

She had discovered her aunt Sheila, collapsed on the carpet of her parents' bedroom.

She had discovered Kelly, out cold on the unforgiving floor of the Peach Pit restroom.

She had discovered Maggie and Mina, who had both partaken in a bit too much drink during a Christmas party and had taken to lie in the grass of Shane's back garden.

She had discovered Kelly again, this time beside a crib in Casa Walsh.

She had flown in for the week, having been encouraged to meet with a possible agent who only accepted in-person meetings in their Los Angeles-based office.

Dylan had remained in London, tying up loose ends in the event that Brenda would be informed that she needed to extend her planned short stay.

A newly engaged Brandon had offered for Brenda to stay with himself and Kelly.

Brenda had been newly engaged herself, a fact she had requested that Dylan keep between them until after Kelly had given birth.

The meeting with the agent had been both inefficacious and eye-opening.

Brenda was told she would never work in Hollywood after she had rejected the agent's advances.

She had informed the agent that she didn't need Hollywood.

The premature end to the meeting that should have lasted longer had returned Brenda to Casa Walsh earlier than scheduled.

She had told no one of the meeting or the agent's response, but everyone had heard from Brandon about how Brenda had found Kelly.

Seven and a quarter months into her pregnancy. Bleeding. Unconscious.

Brenda had called out Kelly's name, several times.

She had attempted to get in contact with Brandon.

She had tried to call Donna. David. Steve. Kelly's mother. Stepfather.

Frustrated with the estimated time of arrival for the ambulance and her inability to connect with anyone, Brenda had driven Kelly to the hospital herself.

It hadn't been the first time she had been in Cedars-Sinai.

It had been the scariest.

Brenda had sat beside Kelly's bed, waiting for Kelly to awaken or Brandon to come.

He had come, breathless from his breakneck marathon through the hospital.

Brenda had been on her mobile with Dylan, who had asked whether he should fly out.

"Have they told you anything?" Brandon had panted. "Like whether my fiancée will awaken? She likes to scare me like this, you know. This is the second time she's made me see her passed out in a hospital bed."

Brenda had fiercely tightened her arms around her brother.

"We were warned," Brandon had said. "We knew there was a risk in Kelly carrying this baby, with the endometriosis. But she wanted him. And I wanted him."

"I don't know what happened," Brenda had said. "I walked in and there she was. I got her to hospital as soon as I could. Bran, the doctor said Kel's in labor."

"Have they tried to stop it?" Brandon had inquired.

"They can't stop it," said Brenda. "She's in labor. Your son's decided he wants out and he wants out, now."

"I had my phone off," said Brandon. "Stupid work thing that required it. I knew something like this could happen. I should've had my phone on, at all times."

"Neither of you are doing this alone. I'm staying right with you. She's going to be okay."

"Just keep telling me that."

He had told Brenda the same, when she had been in a similar position in her own pregnancy.

"She's going to be okay," said Brandon.

"Just keep telling me that," Brenda had said.

"You aren't doing this alone," said Dylan. "We're both here."

"And not going anywhere," said Brandon.

Brenda had held on more firmly to Dylan's hand, the latter of whom had desperately tried to hide his own anxiety over Calista's rapidly decreasing heartbeat.

Brenda hadn't been able to use physical touch to comfort Kris.

All she had were words.

"You're going to be okay," she told Kris' sleeping form. "He's going to be okay." Brenda huffed at the other side of the room. "Do you have to be in here?" she asked. "As you can see, I'm clearly not going anywhere." She held up her wrist, cuffed to the chair, and turned out her foot, cuffed to the chair leg.

"Hey, if you want to be in here," said the guard assigned to watch Kris, "then you're gonna have to play by the rules. Otherwise, it's back to Lynwood you go."

"I'll play," said Brenda. "I don't want to leave her alone."

Kris' face contorted, as it had done multiple times since Brenda had brought her before the administration who had permitted Kris transportation to the hospital.

Kris' condition had been that Brenda be permitted to come along.

"Labor looks painful," said the guard.

"It is," said Brenda. "Especially when this shouldn't be happening yet. She shouldn't be in labor."

"Guess the kid decided to come early."

The kid wouldn't be coming early if his mum hadn't killed a man, Brenda thought.

"Brenda," said Kris in a low, barely audible voice.

"I'm here, honey," said Brenda, working on moving her chair closer for her hand to reach Kris' hand.

"I see Bryant," said Kris. "He's talking to me. Assuring me."

Dylan had told Brenda how she had claimed to see Sheila, the night Calista had been born.

"He's offering out his hand," said Kris.

Sheila had not offered out her hand.

"I want to take it, Brenda. I want to take it so badly."

"Shh, honey," said Brenda. "Concentrate on your little boy, okay? He needs you. You can take Bryant's hand another time."

Kris returned to sleep.

Brenda's free hand circled her twins.

She couldn't stop thinking about what might have happened to them had Kris not returned to the cell when she had.

Brenda was knackered, but she couldn't close her eyes.

When she did, he appeared.

She argued with herself.

Two people are dead, because of me.

You didn't kill Gina's baby. You didn't push her.

Adrianna did, and she's my daughter. I'm responsible.

He would've raped you, Brenda. He would've killed you.

He's dead. Because of me.

He was a dick. A fucknugget.

He's still dead.

Don't mourn a rapist.

I'm not. I'm mourning me. I'm mourning a time I wasn't responsible for two deaths.

People keep getting killed around me.

"I need to use the toilet," said Brenda, holding out her wrist expectantly.

"I'll be right outside the door," the guard warned. "In case you decide to make any sudden moves."

"I know the drill," said Brenda. "Let me know if there's any update on Kris. I promised her she wouldn't have to do this alone."

It was a change, to watch clear water drizzle from the tap.

She never thought she had taken clean water for granted.

Lynwood had told her otherwise.

She heard chatter outside, chatter that increased in decibel.

Chatter she was concerned would wake Kris, who needed all the rest she could get as her body prepared for premature labor.

"I was told my wife was brought in," said the voice. "She's in this ward, but the incompetent receptionist downstairs insists there's no one by that name checked in anywhere in this hospital. Except I've called all the other hospitals in LA and surrounding areas and Brenda isn't in any of them, so I know she's in here and I don't appreciate being kept from her! She could be in goddamn labor!"

"Brenda?" asked the guard.

"Brenda McKay. My wife."

"So you're the Dylan McKay I've heard so much about," said the guard. "Most of the people I work with don't have much of a favorable opinion of you, Mr. McKay."

"The people you work with? You're with Lynwood? She's in here? Brenda!"

Brenda leant forward from the toilet, mid her second wee, and cracked open the door.

"Dylan?" she asked. "Why are you so upset?"

"Why am I so –" Dylan spoke to the guard without looking at him. "Permission to join my wife in the toilet."

"Permission granted," said the guard.

"First things first," said Dylan, eyeing Brenda as she finished, "are you in labor?"

"Do I look like I'm in labor?" asked Brenda.

"You're pissing in hospital," said Dylan. "It's a reasonable question."

Brenda informed him she was not in labor.

"Thank fuck," said Dylan. "Now that I can breathe a little more easily, care to share with me why the fuck my wife is in hospital at all? Did you want to give me a heart attack, woman?"

"I came with Kris," said Brenda. "She's in labor. Did they tell you I was?"

She could see the cogs spin in Dylan's mind.

"In hindsight," said Dylan, "Brandon said Sanders was told you were at hospital. We just…assumed. So you're good, then? Babies are good?"

She was far from good, but she couldn't tell him that.

Her husband would not be facing arrest on her behalf.

"Babies are good," she said.

"Good," said Dylan. "Is Kris supposed to be in labor?"

"No," said Brenda. "The baby's coming early, and I'm terrified for her, Dylan."

"Is it just you two?"

"Us two and the guard."

"I'm staying with you."

"They probably won't let you."

"I've got a padded bank account that says otherwise."

Dylan clacked away at his mobile.

"What are you doing?" asked Brenda.

"Texting your brother that I've located you and you aren't in labor," said Dylan.

"What is he saying?"

"He said some explicit content, since you not being checked in means he's got to stay downstairs. What with it being outside of visiting hours and all. Kel says hi, by the way. Donna wants you to know you practically gave her a coronary and Andrea isn't accepting what Brando's telling her until she checks you out herself."

"They're all downstairs? Maybe you should join them."

"Nice try. I'm staying."

Brenda struggled to get up from the toilet.

"Looks like you could use some help there," said Dylan.

"It's lower than I'm used to," said Brenda.

"Or could it be that three of you are stuck on that toilet?" asked Dylan.

"We aren't stuck."

"Suit yourself, but maybe with a little please, I could get you off faster."

"That is absolutely an innuendo."

"You might want to consider why you keep picking apart my innocent words to search for innuendos, baby."

"Please. You wouldn't know the meaning of innocent if it bit you in the arse."

"In the entire time you've spent arguing with me, you could already be off that toilet."

"I'm a big girl," said Brenda. "I can get up myself."

"That's what Callie said when we started toilet-training her."

"Did you just compare me to a toddler?"

"If you admit you're stuck, I'll take it back."

She couldn't admit that she was stuck.

If she admitted it, Dylan would help her up.

If he helped her up, her arms would ache from where they had been grabbed.

She would be unable to resist wincing.

Dylan would question her wince.

He always noticed if she winced.

How could she tell him she had broken her solemn vow?

That another man's fingers had touched her where only his had, where Brenda had sworn to him that only Dylan's would?

Why should it matter, if they were getting divorced?

She did still want their divorce.

Didn't she?

"I'm a toddler who will unstick herself," said Brenda.

"Am I missing something?" asked Dylan. "I thought we had a pretty good time together the other week."

"We did," said Brenda, "and now you're calling me a toddler."

"I'm just noting where our daughters get their obstinance from, that's all."

"Oh yeah, like I'm the only obstinate one of us. Can you please leave? You're distracting me from getting up."

"I'm gonna be right next to the door, if you change your mind."

"I won't."

Brenda put her hands on her knees, keeping her back straight, and urged herself forward.

She stood, regaining her balance against the wall.

"I told you I could get unstuck myself," she told Dylan as she returned to Kris' side. "Besides, if you'd helped me, you might've felt the twins and you didn't want to do that unless I get out."

Taking the seat beside her, Dylan locked his hands to Brenda's waist.

"What –" she started.

"We aren't in Lynwood," he said. "And after tonight, I want assurance that they're okay."

"I told you they were."

"I want to feel it for myself, Brenda."

She didn't have an issue with Dylan's hands around her waist, as long as they stayed there.

If they drifted lower, she would react.

If they drifted higher, she would react.

He didn't get far, she told herself.

Why does it feel like he did?

"What happened?" asked Dylan. "Why is Kris in premature labor?"

"Why was Kelly in premature labor?" asked Brenda.

"Endometriosis," said Dylan.

"You don't have to be smart about it."

"I'm not being smart. It was endometriosis. Is that what Kris has? Endometriosis?"

"She was upset," said Brenda. "That can also cause early labor."

"Upset about what?"

"Any of the number of things you can get upset about in jail."

"Tell me who to sue for Kris ending up in this position and I'll sue them."

"It isn't as easy as that. Are you feeling anything?"

"Not yet. They could be asleep."

"At least one of us can," Brenda murmured.

"Did you say something, baby?"

"I asked you where the girls are."

A simple question like where their daughters were should not have made Dylan appear ghastly.

"I – Bren," his voice emitted in a stranglehold, "I gotta – I gotta tell you something. And you're gonna – you're gonna, but I – it – it was for you –"

"Brenda!"

Her name was screamed twice.

"Still here, love," she told Kris.

"Brenda, it hurts," said Kris. "Everything hurts."

"That's just the baby making his way down, honey," said Brenda. "A little ahead of schedule, but nothing the doctors can't handle. Nothing they haven't dealt with before."

"It really hurts," said Kris.

"Bren said that, too," said Dylan, moving to sit between Kris and Brenda. "When our oldest was born, Bren told me that was it, we weren't having any more."

"Adrianna was breach," said Brenda. "That was no picnic."

"I'd heard the stories," said Dylan, "from our friend David. Our brother, really. His wife at the time –"

"She threatened to cut off his dick," Brenda smiled. "Sweet little Donna, the last person you'd expect to threaten that."

"So I lay beside Bren, soothing her belly, snogging her through the pain, and waiting for her to tell me what Don told Silver," said Dylan.

"I didn't, did I?" asked Brenda.

"Never once," said Dylan. "Not with Adrianna and not with Calista. Proof you love my dick."

"See what I mean about the ego?" said Brenda.

"I was also pretty anxious that night," said Dylan. "Didn't want Bren to know it, but it was hard not to be after how our nephew Sammy had been born."

"I'm anxious," said Kris. "I swear I've never been this anxious. Ever."

"Welcome to parenthood," said Dylan. "It's a struggle. You'll fuck up. Your kid might declare they hate you every now and then. But it's worth every second."

"Which of our kids hate you?" asked Brenda.

"Adrianna," said Dylan. "I'll tell you why in a sec."

"I like him, Brenda," said Kris.

"You and every other woman on this planet," said Brenda.

"Hey, you knew that when you married me," said Dylan. "Just as I knew about all the men and women on this planet who wanted you."

"I wasn't famous when we got married."

"If I told you the amount of people in your troupe who were interested…not to mention all the people at West Bev and CU…"

Kris' face crumpled in a contraction.

"Bren, give me your hand," said Dylan.

Brenda questioned his order.

"You can't reach Kris because of that fucking cuff," said Dylan, "so give me your hand."

Brenda slipped her hand into Dylan's.

Dylan linked his hand to Kris'.

"Now you've got both of us supporting you," he told Kris. "Breathe," he instructed.

Kris breathed.

Brenda's breath hitched.

Had he somehow heightened his attraction?

How was that possible?

"Now, every contraction that hits, you keep breathing," said Dylan. "Alright?"

Kris acknowledged the order.

"And with my wife's permission," said Dylan, "you can break my hand, if you need to."

"I don't need to give my permission for that," said Brenda.

"You're the only person who's broken my hand before, babe," said Dylan. "I think Kris here doing it requires permission."

"Oh please, I did not break your hand."

"I couldn't move my fingers for a week after you had Ade."

"I could barely move for eight weeks when I had Calista," said Brenda.

"You win," said Dylan.

"I don't think you should be separated," said Kris. "You're perfect together."

"Your friend thinks we're perfect together," said Dylan.

"I have ears," said Brenda.

"So do three babies," said Dylan, "and they're currently hearing you pick on me."

"You can give back the money he gave you," Brenda told the guard.

"As long as I don't have to be the one coaching her through this, he can do whatever," said the guard.

"Whatever?" asked Dylan. "Including freeing my wife?"

"With limitations," said the guard.

"Can I hear more stories?" asked Kris.

"Sure," said Brenda. "I've got a ton of novels memorized. Plays, too."

Kris was wholly uninterested in hearing the stories by the famous authors that Brenda had committed to memory.

She requested to hear more stories about Brenda.

Specifically, stories that involved Dylan.

Dylan was more than happy to oblige.

"How about the time I proposed?" he asked.

"Kris doesn't need to hear that," said Brenda. "You've already told her about the spring dance, Palm Springs – twice over; Australia and both times we got back together in London. I think she's all set on stories."

"Please tell me," said Kris. "It makes the contractions less painful."

Kris was as bad of a liar as Dylan was.

"I'd wanted to take Bren to Paris," said Dylan. "Thought it would be the perfect place to propose. A good way to take back Paris and make it ours; long story, that. Maybe we'll tell you sometime. But our Paris plans got a bit…derailed."

"Literally," said Brenda. "We'd been in Rotterdam. My company toured there and Dylan had practically become one of us by that point."

"Practically," said Dylan. "Minus the acting part. So we were supposed to get the train to Paris."

"Dylan had it all planned out," said Brenda. "At least, I thought he did."

"I'd told Bren I had it handled. And I did, sort of."

"Except Dylan can't understand Dutch to save his life."

"Nor can Bren."

"We were supposed to get the train from Rotterdam to Amsterdam and then connect to Paris."

"Yeah, that's not exactly what happened."

They had wound up in Prague.

"I still don't know how Dylan managed to get Prague and Paris mixed up."

"I'm telling ya, Bren, it was the ticket agent!"

"He's been telling me that for eighteen years," said Brenda. "I still don't buy it."

"You proposed in Prague?" asked Kris.

"I told Bren that since we were in Prague, we might as well go down to Vienna," said Dylan.

"Dylan and I like classical music," said Brenda.

"Dunno if you know this about Vienna, but it's kinda known for its classical music," said Dylan.

"And we'd both been to Paris before."

"But not Vienna. Neither of us."

"So I agreed."

"Which suited me well," said Dylan, pivoting to Brenda, "because during an intermission of the Vienna Philharmonic –"

"He asked me to marry him." Brenda locked her eyes onto Dylan's.

"And she asked what had taken me so long." Dylan searched her eyes.

Kris had acquired a state of contentment, one Brenda thought might have indicated that Kris' labor pains had subsided.

The contentment rocketed off Kris' face.

"Fuck!" She scrunched at the bedsheet. Her body folded in. "Ah fuck!"

"We know that sound," said Brenda.

"We sure do," said Dylan.

He pressed the call button for the nurse.

"Brenda," said Kris. "I can't do this without Brenda."

"Only immediate family allowed in delivery," said a nurse.

"Dylan and I will be here waiting for you when you get back," said Brenda. "Okay?"

"I'm scared, Brenda," said Kris. "I wish Bryant were here."

"I'm sure he is," said Dylan. "You've got this. Just like Bren has and will again."

"Your body knows what to do," said Brenda. She swept a kiss over Kris' hairline. "The doctors do, too. You'll be back with us in no time."

"No time," said Dylan.

Kris' gurney headed for the door.

"Go with your gut, when it comes to her," she told Dylan. "It proved you correct."

Where there had been a flurry of activity, there was now a disquieted hush.

"What does she mean, Dylan?" asked Brenda.

"She means I've had this feeling all day like you were in trouble," said Dylan. "I guess that was just your worry over Kris."

"Yeah," said Brenda. "My worry. Over Kris."

"Was that hesitation I heard?" asked Dylan. His gaze narrowed. "Bren, how exactly did you and Kris end up in this position?"

"I'm more interested in hearing what you were going to tell me," said Brenda. "Didn't you have something to tell me?"

Dylan sank into the wall.

"I don't know where to start," he said.

"Stories tend to start at the beginning," said Brenda.

"I had a shot," said Dylan. "A shot at your freedom. You don't get a lot of shots like that. I had to take it, Bren. I just had to. For you, for our kids…I...had to." He hung his head, elbows bent and fingers laced.

"A shot?" asked Brenda. "At my freedom?"

"Your freedom," said Dylan.

Brenda encouraged Dylan to look at her.

He consented.

His eyes glazed over.

"You would've been released," he said. "You'd hate me, you'd loathe the very ground I walk on, but you'd be free."

"You're confusing me," said Brenda. "Why would I hate you if you got me out?"

"Because I would've put my dick into Gina to do it," said Dylan. "The dick you love."

The abrupt constriction Brenda experienced was not from a contraction.

"You – you fucked Gina?" she asked. "Again?"

"First of all," said Dylan, "there is no 'again.' Not in this century, anyway. Second of all, I would've fucked Gina. I didn't. But I would've."

"And how, exactly, does fucking your ex secure my freedom?"

"She said she'd drop the charges against you if I did it."

"Because she isn't a compulsive liar or anything."

"I'm well-aware. Put yourself in my place, Brenda. If I were the one in your shoes and you were the one in mine?"

If it meant securing Dylan's freedom, the choice would have been a no-brainer.

"We – we would've been done," said Brenda. "Completely done. I might've never spoken to you again."

"For your freedom, it was a risk I was willing to take," said Dylan.

"That's got to be some kind of sexual assault, doesn't it?" asked Brenda. "Making a man choose whether to fuck someone in order to get his wife out of jail?"

"Probably is," said Dylan. "You don't loathe me?"

"I can't say I'm happy with your decision, but you did offer up your body for me to go free so…I'm a little conflicted at present. Might help if I knew why you didn't give Gina the shag she asked for."

"That's where I fucked up," said Dylan. "Royally. Probably the biggest fuckup of my entire parenting career."

"Alright, take a breath and tell me what happened," said Brenda.

Dylan's hands returned to Brenda's abdomen.

"What I'm about to tell you," he said, "baby, I'll need you to breathe through it."

"Just tell me," said Brenda.

She may have asphyxiated, without Dylan's soothing presence.

"Adrianna's on drugs?" she asked.

"I should've listened to your brother," said Dylan. "With my history, with genetics, Ade's drugging, I knew this could happen. But I didn't want to face it. I didn't want to accept that our daughter could choose to take the drugs I've fought so hard all these years to stay clean from."

"It's not your fault," said Brenda.

"You've never taken drugs once, in your entire life," said Dylan. "Your daughter wouldn't be taking drugs if I wasn't her father."

"She was upset," said Brenda. "About Gina. You know Adrianna loves you. She didn't mean any of that."

"She thinks I cheated on her mother. She thinks I've lied to you and her all this time that I didn't cheat before."

"The drugs she's taken behind our backs, that's lying to us."

"I'll take her to see my sponsor. If he could help me, he can help her."

"Is she also downstairs? I might be able to persuade the guard to let me see her."

"There's more to the story."

Dylan pressed against Brenda's stomach.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Keeping the babies in," he said. "'Cause once they hear their mother panicking, they're going to want to come marching out to check she's alright."

"This isn't funny, Dylan. Our daughter ran away! You need to go after her! She could be anywhere!"

"You didn't let me get to the part where Sanders texted and said he's got her."

"It would have been nice if you had thrown that in."

"Excuse me if I had to keep my wife from having a panic attack so she also doesn't go into early labor," said Dylan. "We've dealt with enough unsettling contractions for one night."

His fingers twitched on Brenda's stomach.

"You felt something, didn't you?" she asked.

"I can't be sure," he said.

Dylan rolled his hand further up her stomach.

"Here," Brenda moved Dylan's hand to the side of her stomach that had experienced the most movement during his retelling, "try here."

His face had ignited like that before.

It didn't make the moment any less magical for her.

For all of his faults and flaws, she had never questioned whether Dylan would be a suitable father for their children.

He had questioned.

She hadn't.

Brenda had known since the start of their relationship that Dylan McKay had it in him to be a magnificent father, as he had displayed every time he had felt their children move within her.

"Hey," said Dylan, scraping his hand around, "hey, little one. Daddy's here."

He crept his hand to the other side of Brenda's stomach.

"There you are," he said. "Hi, baby."

He kept his hand on either side of her stomach.

"Daddy was worried about you guys," he said. "You and Mummy."

"I don't know how they've managed to stay in through all of this," said Brenda.

"I do," said Dylan. "They're obstinate halves of their obstinate parents. And as such, they ain't going anywhere 'til they're ready. Kinda like you. Never go anywhere 'til you're ready."

"Or you," said Brenda.

Their faces had grown closer in proximity.

Their chins had grown closer in proximity.

Their lips had grown closer in proximity.

"Brenda, hey…what's going on in here?"

"Nothing." Dylan backed away. "She's still cuffed. See? Hand and foot."

"No kissing of the inmate," said the guard. "The rules still apply. I technically shouldn't be allowing you to hold her hand, either, but I made an exception."

"I wasn't," said Dylan.

"He was feeling our kids," said Brenda. "Is there news on Kris?"

"I've been ordered to escort you and your husband to a private room," said the guard.

"I don't want to leave until I know about Kris," said Brenda.

"Who ordered you to relocate us?" asked Dylan.

"Some chick named Valerie Malone?" said the guard. "Damn, what an incredible kisser." He looked at Brenda. "Please don't tell anyone I'm kissing on the job. She was awfully…persuasive."

"Silver's gotta be pissed about that," said Dylan.

"David's dating Gina," said Brenda. "He has no leg to stand on."

"It's fake."

"Sorry?"

"Silver dating Gina. It's all fake."

"He isn't dating her?"

"I asked him to fake an interest in her. Thought it would help expose Gina's lie. But she keeps building on them. Lie after lie after lie."

Once the shock had abated, Brenda's giggles began.

"I don't see how any of this is remotely hilarious," said Dylan.

"I'd asked my costar to ask Gina out," said Brenda, "thinking he could expose whether she was lying. She turned him down because David had asked her."

"I'll admit that's kind of funny," said Dylan. "And it gives me hope to know that you considered Gina might have been lying."

"Does Val know about this?"

"Val does. We told her after that explosion at the mall. Donna knows, also. But no one else does and there's still a chance the plan could work, so –"

"Keep my lips sealed. I will."

"This is going to work, Bren. The more lies I expose of Gina's, the greater chance we have of stitching our family back together."

The guard loudly cleared his throat.

"Did I mention she can be incredibly persuasive?" he said.

"Will you remove Brenda's cuffs if I promise to watch her?" asked Dylan.

"And put my job on the line? I wasn't born yesterday, kid."

"Keep one of her hands free, at least. I'd like to continue holding it."

"If both of her hands aren't cuffed, I'm going to have to stand close to her."

"Then cuff us both," said Dylan. "We can't go anywhere if you cuff us both."

"Dylan," said Brenda.

"Cuff our hands together, if you want," said Dylan. "Just so long as I can continue holding hers."

They walked in front of the guard.

"Not the best idea you've ever had," said Brenda.

"It's temporary," said Dylan. "He didn't actually arrest me."

"Cuffing our hands together is one thing, but did you have to go and mention our feet?"

"I was desperate, baby."

"If I trip, I'm going to blame you."

"I won't let you trip."

They entered a room full of people milling about expensive technology.

"Adrianna," said her parents.

"Mummy," said Adrianna.

Brenda slightly teetered as she caught Adrianna with her free hand.

"Sweetheart, your dad told me what he found," said Brenda, rubbing Adrianna's back. "I want you to know it doesn't change that we love you, or how much we love you, but we are going to insist that you begin attending your Dad's meetings and that you speak with his sponsor."

"I will, Mummy," said Adrianna, melding herself to Brenda. "I promise I will."

Dylan's alarm matched Brenda's.

Both looked at Steve.

"The kids and I found her with that little shit," said Steve. "Had his hands all over her."

"Not just his hands," said Kelly.

"Naomi told us Adrianna took PCP," said Brandon.

"What's PCP?" asked Brenda.

"Stands for Prick See You Next Tuesday Pinhead, aka I'm Going To Kill That Shithead," said Dylan.

"Probably shouldn't say that in front of a Lynwood guard," said Brenda.

"Did you hear me say that I'm going to kill the guy who gave PCP to my daughter?" asked Dylan.

"Didn't hear a word," said the guard.

"Did anyone else hear that?" asked Dylan.

They claimed they had not.

"Are any of you going to tell me what PCP is?" asked Brenda. "We're in hospital. Should we get Adrianna checked in?"

"I expect Ade's going to crash at any point now," said Dylan, "but I'm not sure medical care is necessary. Sanders, what do you think?"

"Should we – does she need a kit?" asked Kelly.

Brenda marbleized.

"Adrianna," said Kelly, knitting her brows at Brenda. "Does Adrianna need a kit?" she asked Steve.

"I thankfully got to her before that became necessary," said Steve.

"We owe you big, Sanders," said Dylan. "Twice over."

"I'm just an uncle looking out for his niece," said Steve.

"You'll understand why your mother and I are banning you from seeing Jeffie, I take it?" said Dylan.

"I'm done with him," said Adrianna. "I'm still angry with you, Daddy, but I'm sorry I went off with him. I'm sorry I told you you were nothing to me."

"You and I are a lot alike, Ade," said Dylan. "And that can mean that we hurt the people we love most when we think they've hurt us. Like your Mum said, I don't love you any less. And I hope you don't love me any less."

"I wish I hadn't seen what I saw," said Adrianna.

"Me too, baby," said Dylan. "But I'm also kind of glad you did. Stopped me from doing something I wouldn't be able to take back, even if the intention was good."

Adrianna's parents held her against both of them.

"What's she doing here?" asked Dylan.

Brenda followed Dylan's eyeline, her own landing on the Judge that had handled her prelim.

"I asked her here," said Valerie. "David and I have uncovered a crucial bit of information that we feel the Judge of Brenda's case should be made aware of."

"Is that why you asked us all here?" said Kelly.

"I didn't ask you here," said Val. "I asked Brandon and you came along."

"Donna and Andrea are with the kids downstairs," said Kelly. "Brandon wanted me to come along; didn't you, Brandon?"

"Absolutely," said Brandon, grasping Kelly's hand. "Why are you two cuffed together?" he queried.

"Don't ask," said Brenda.

"As we are all aware," said Valerie, "our dear Brenda has been accused of a terrible atrocity that we who have known her for eons are certain she would never commit in a thousand million myriads."

"Maybe a bit less dramatic," said David.

"You have to get the audience interested, David," said Valerie.

"This audience does have places to be," said the Judge.

"This early in the morning?" asked Val. "Where do you have to be this early in the morning?"

"I have a family of my own," said the Judge.

"And yet, you tear apart mine," said Dylan.

"As I was saying," said Valerie, "David came to me one day with an interesting theory. Do you want to tell the crowd your interesting theory, David?"

"All I told Val was that when I was here, Gina was fine, and when I wasn't, she wasn't," said David.

"He said a bit more than that," said Val, "but that is the gist. So we got to thinking. Was it truly the fall that caused Gina to lose the baby?"

"Or could it be another incident?" said David.

"This, of course, required some research," said Val.

"And some persuasion, on Val's end," said David, with a tinge of irritation.

"Security tapes don't just find themselves," said Val.

"Security tape?" asked the Judge.

"This one." Valerie pointed up to the screen. "I have asked the lovely gentlemen here to play for us this tape that David and I definitely acquired through super legal means."

"It wasn't illegal," said David.

"It isn't entirely legal, either," said Val, "if we weren't in California. But the good thing is, we are in California, so it wasn't illegal."

"Let's just say Bren has some powerful people in her fanbase," said David.

"All of whom are fantastic kissers," said Val.

"That's some dangerous footwork you're doing there," said the Judge.

"That's our Val," said Steve.

"A security tape tore us apart," Dylan told Brenda.

"Maybe this security tape can bring you back together," said David.

"If you have that much faith in it, Silver, then play the damn thing already," said Brandon.

The tape was surprisingly pixelated for being of such expensive programming.

"Who is that?" asked Dylan. He squinted. "Is that LL?"

"We can't make out anything discerning enough to tell us who that is," said Val. "But what we do know is –"

"Is that before this person came in, Gina was sitting up in bed, chatting away," said David.

"And after," said Valerie.

"Gina went into labor," said Brenda.

"There's a chance, Bren," said Dylan. "We have a chance to get you out."

"A chance the fall didn't cause Gina's labor," said Brenda.

She dove her face into Adrianna's hair.

Dylan's face followed, into Brenda's.

"We thought it was worth checking into," said Val.

"It is," said Kelly. "It really is. Oh my God, Brenda, you could come home!"

"Any chance of getting her released tonight?" Dylan asked the Judge.

There wasn't enough information to get Brenda released, said the Judge.

However, she added, the tape had raised enough questions that the reason behind Brenda's sentence would be reviewed.

"If the medical examination indicates anything other than blunt trauma causing the stillbirth of the Kincaid child," said the Judge, "then I do not see any reason why Brenda couldn't be released."

"How long is that going to take?" asked Dylan.

"We'll get started immediately," said the Judge.

"So how long?" Dylan pressed. "I'd like her out before Christmas, at the latest."

"That may be doable," said the Judge.

Brenda was surrounded by ecstatic family on either side.

"Kris," she said.

"Should be out of delivery now," said Dylan.

"I have to tell her," said Brenda.

"Can I go with them?" asked Adrianna.

"Can we?" asked Brandon.

"For a little bit," said the guard. "But then I'll have to bring Brenda back."

Brenda took a smidge of comfort in knowing that her attacker would not be around to greet her.

A smidge, as she could not fathom returning to Lynwood after the news of the night.

"Kris!" said Brenda. "I'm getting – where is she?"

The bed Kris had been in was nicely made.

Brenda didn't understand. It shouldn't have been nicely made. Kris should have been in it. Exhausted. Sore. Threatening harm against her baby's deceased father.

But in it.

"Excuse me," said Dylan, holding out his newly uncuffed hand, "can you tell us where the woman is who was in this room? Goes by Kris? Bren, what's her surname?"

"The woman who was in here?" said a nurse.

"Yes," said Brenda, "she was taken into the delivery room. She should be out by now."

"Did she have a tattoo on her wrist?"

"She did," said Brenda. "Her Bryant's initials, in hieroglyphic form."

"Yes," said the nurse. "She did mention a Bryant."

"Brenda." Dylan crossed his arms over her shoulders. "Baby, you should sit."

"I don't want to sit," said Brenda. "I want to know where Kris is."

"I'm sorry," said the nurse.

Dylan and Brandon caught Brenda.

"Adrianna," said Dylan.

Adrianna returned to her mother.

"We did everything we could," said the nurse. "She said Bryant had come for her."

"But their baby," said Brenda. "Their sweet – their sweet baby. Is he – is he –"

"In the NICU, if you want to see him," said the nurse.

"Can I?" Brenda asked the guard.

"Don't dawdle," he answered.

Brenda required aid down the corridor.

"She wanted to go," said Dylan. "She wanted to be reunited with Bryant."

"She also wanted their son," said Brenda. "And now he's going to be left up to the State."

"We won't let that happen, baby."

"He's going to be released into the State's care."

"We'd foster him," said Brandon, "except –"

"Our schedules are crazy," said Kelly. "If the kids were younger…"

"My schedule isn't any better," said Steve. "Nor is Donna's, or D'Shawn's."

"I could do it," said Dylan.

"Three babies?" asked David.

"For the time being," said Dylan. "Until we were sure he could be adopted into a nice family."

"We can't let him live with strangers," said Brenda.

"I'll do it," said Valerie.

Everyone looked at her.

"It can't be that difficult," said Valerie. "I helped raise Kai."

"Helped being the keyword," said Steve. "When's the last time you changed a diaper?"

"I did help raise my siblings," said Val.

"It's because of them that you're offering this, isn't it?" asked David.

"If I had been a little older, Suzie could've been released into my care, instead of the State's," said Valerie, "and maybe she would've ended up a little less fucked up."

"I better help you," said David.

"I can take care of a baby, David," said Valerie.

"If you're fostering him, I'm going to help you," said David. "And Ruby loves babies, so she'll probably want to also help."

"It's not a family affair," said Val.

"It is when you've decided to take in a child because of how much your sister cares for his mother," said David.

"We aren't a family," said Val.

"I'm a single dad," said David. "You're a single mom. We'd help out each other."

"Ruby is a fucking teenager."

"A teenager I raised pretty great, wouldn't you say?"

"Sure, when she has Donna for a mother."

"I'll talk to my colleagues," said Kelly. "If we can get hold of his case, it will be easier for Val to foster him."

"Is that acceptable, Bren?" asked Brandon. "For him to live with Val?"

Brenda stepped up to the window, leaving Brandon's question unanswered.

"Bren?" asked Dylan.

"He's there," she said.

"How do you know?" asked Dylan.

"Because," Brenda's voice stilted as she pointed to where a baby's name was written, "she named him Brendan Bryant Turner."

"Turner?" asked Steve. "I talked to a Turner tonight. Marigold Turner, that was her name."

"Marigold?" asked Dylan. "I talked to a Marigold. The receptionist downstairs, her name's Marigold."

"Not the receptionist I saw," said Steve.

"I was with him," said Brandon. "Dylan and I definitely talked with a Marigold."

"She must've gotten off work," said Steve, "because there was no Marigold there by the time I came in."

"Marigold," said Brenda. "Kris wouldn't have made it here without Marigold."

Dylan tucked himself around Brenda, holding her as she wept.

She had become numb, to the point that she had almost forgotten the soreness of her body.

Almost.

Dylan's hands didn't touch her breasts. They didn't go down to her thigh.

They comforted her, without ever exposing her secret.

The secret she could tell no one.

Especially Dylan.

The secret that only two other people in the world knew.

Both of whom had taken the secret to their graves.

Her perpetrator.

And her rescuer who, Brenda told herself, had left behind an orphaned baby boy because of that rescue.

Brenda couldn't determine how she was going to bear the remainder of her stay in Lynwood without Kris.

It was amazing how someone she had known for such a short duration could have made an impact of such magnitude.

Almost as if Kris had been sent to her to be her guardian angel, to protect her when she had required protection.

If you believed in such things.

If you believed that they could be sent from your beloved, long deceased aunt.

As Brenda believed.

Completely believed.

Without question.

Just as she fully believed it had been Sheila Beevis who had sent her to Casa Walsh when Kelly had required a rescue of her own.

And perhaps, just perhaps, when Kelly had been unresponsive in the Peach Pit.

Perhaps Sheila Beevis had known even then the impact Kelly Taylor would have on her nephew's life.

That she would bear his children.

That she would be his wife.

And that, when Kelly Taylor caught wind of a caseload she wanted in her possession, she made it happen.

As Brenda had been told by Kelly herself, when Brandon called to tell Brenda that care of Brendan Bryant had been entrusted with little pushback to Valerie Malone.

That, Brenda was sure, had been due to the mighty dollar blocking any qualms there might have been regarding Valerie's ability to be a fit mother.

Dylan's mighty dollar, to be precise.

He denied it when Brenda asked.

He could deny it as much as he wanted to deny it.

She knew what he had done.

She believed Kris knew it, too.

What Brenda couldn't figure out was why.

-x

Source: Google.

(Shout-out to KJ to express my continued gratitude and appreciation, as well as those of you whose review I could respond to directly. Ade says she's done with Jeffie, but is she?)

Thanks a million!