Authors Note: I own nothing. No ownership rights to Beverly Hills 90210.

Chapter Sixteen

The guy's were in charge of kitchen clean up but instead of disappearing into the lounge room I came and sat on the stool at the bench to drink my tea and be entertained by Steve scrubbing the pots that Dylan hadn't got to before dinner.

"Brenda it's not that funny. I know how to do dishes, remember I worked at The Pit like Brandon?" I bite my lip to stop the laughter as I watch my twin put his arm around Steve's neck.

"Now Steve, would we call your few day's of stuffing up orders and spilling drinks working at The Pit like me?"

"Hey why is it tease Steve day? I'm not the only Beverly Hills kid here, the other one actually had chocolate mints on his pillow every night and twenty-four room service."

Dylan who was just finishing stacking the dishwasher looks up from adding the powder. "Yeah but buddy I've paid my dues in this kitchen I know how to wash dishes like the best of them-"

I roll my eyes- he is delusional. "Steve don't listen to him. He knows how to wash dishes here but he looses that ability at his own home, that and the simple act of cutting a vegetable, vacuuming-"

Moving to face me from across the bench he gives me a fake offended look, "hey Hoppy why am I now getting thrown under the bus? And I do know how to wash dishes at my place but I don't really need to as the frozen microwave burritos don't make any dishes."

"Please say you aren't still eating that shit? In a town full of amazing Mexican food I don't know how you can even justify buying that-"

"Frozen lard and hydrogenated bean oil?" His amusement at the memory and his quick whit is evident, I just glare in return.

Steve notice's our stare down and gives Brandon a confused look, "what the hell is frozen lard and hydron oil?"

"Hydrogenated, and I have no idea what that they are talking about."

As I'm about to call Dylan out for maintaining his prepubescent diet my cell rings from the lounge room. As I shift to get up, Dylan figures out that it must be mine and moves around the counter. "Relax Hoppy I'll bring it to you."

He's back in a few seconds and I immediately answer without looking. "Hello?"

Within seconds of being on the phone her whole body goes stiff and I'm not the only one who notices the change come over her. B subtly moves closer to the kitchen bench where she is keeping her eyes focused on the hard surface.

"Yes I understand and I know it's a term that I insisted be included in the settlement but I'm not sure why I have to rush agreeing when they have clearly been the ones to cause the delay?"

Settlement? Whatever the person answers deflates her anger but not her frustration. "Fine. Fine, I'll make sure I'm ready to receive it tomorrow but I'll need it couriered to another address as my ridiculous injury is making everyone wrap me in cotton wool." Brandon and I roll our eyes she is still so stubborn.

Once she has given the address for Casa Walsh she appears to relax probably thinking the matter is finished but whoever is on the line must continue to speak as the stiffness in her body increases ten fold. "That wasn't the terms of the settlement and I think considering that I could have gone for an injunction on them, stopping it all together I've been more than fair." Whatever the person say's deflates her a little as she puts her head down resting her forehead on her hand. "Well do you know the details of this request?" She obviously doesn't like the answer as she breathes out heavy. "So they are going to send the details tomorrow with the package and I get to enjoy being blindsided once again by these people. Fantastic."

What the fuck is going on? I look to Brandon to see if he has a clue but he shakes his head, he's as lost as me. "Look Jerry you know I'm not angry at you I'm just over this. I just want it done, finished already." He obviously says something to try and reassure her but she's not so easily swayed, "no not with my luck it won't be that easy. They'll probably be huge from this shit."

She clucks at his response, "yeah you know I don't want the money, if it wouldn't have led to years in the courts and it going on public record anyway because of that process I'd never have taken the settlement."

She sarcastically chuckle's at whatever this Jerry says, "you know as well as I do Roy wanted me to fight it. He only relented after you stayed at the Cottage that weekend and you explained to him that I was fucked either way."

Her laugh this time is genuine, "relax they were my words of summary not yours. Look I better go I have a call to join in on in forty minutes and I think I need to go punch something or do fifty chin ups to get this out of my system. Send my love to Emily and the boys, and tell Tom that his godfather is devastated to be missing his birthday but there is a pile of gifts in the post from him and I." She laughs, "yes Jerry I sent him heaps of plastic American crap."

She hangs up a moment later and reaches for her crutches to stand up, "Bren?"

"It's none of your business Dylan, or you Brandon. It's my shit." When she's on her crutches she looks at Steve, "got a bag, bar or weights here?"

"Yeah the garage has my chin up bar and some basic equipment."

"Mind if I?"

"Not at all." Before Brandon or I can protest he looks at her crutches, "want me to spot you, no questions asked?"

She gives him one of her rare authentic smiles that is full of warmth, "yeah that would be great."

When they are secure in the garage Brandon looks at me. "What the fuck happened in London?"

"I've got no idea Jones but whatever it is lawsuits and settlements sound like she's been through more than what we thought."

"Okay, I'm guessing Jerry is her lawyer and obviously good friends with Roy." Trust the reporter to start going through the facts of the case.

"And it sound like Roy didn't like her settling. He told me last night that he supports her decisions but on this it sounds like he was struggling to do that." I look to the light shining in the garage, "it must be bad for him not to immediately follow her on something to do with her. She was fee-"

"I know. That conversation actually made me feel like someone was back in that room."

"Well if your twin bond is coming out of hibernation for this then it must be bad. I'll stay here tomorrow while you are out at the Rose thing."

He gives me an understanding look, "Dylan she has already subtly refused your company twice I think if you try again she'll not let you over at all tomorrow."

"So we just what, let her deal with this alone? Like you and I have sworn not to do anymore, leave her alone to fend for herself."

"I don't think we have a choice, she doesn't want us involved." He knows I'm about to keep arguing the point, "look why don't I only do two hours at this thing tomorrow, instead of four. Susan hopefully won't mind interviewing the judge's after the thing ends. I can be back here by two. You can come over then."

"I don't like this."

He gives a humourless chuckle, "Dylan you've never liked anything that could potentially hurt Brenda." I decide to take my aggression out on the last pan needing to be washed.

When I'm drying down the now shiny as new pan he tries to distract me, "how's the screenplay going?"

"Well I'm past our breakup."

This time when he laughs it's filled with humour, "which one?"

"The first." I hesitate and then speak honestly, "the Counsellor I've been seeing every morning thinks I'm dragging my feet on junior year because I don't want to address the spiral down. That I don't want to delve into the reasons and feelings of hurting Bren, hurting myself."

"What do you think?"

"Remember that chick Steve liked that summer who actually liked you?" He nods, "remember coming over to my house for advice? I teased you saying you were only there because Brenda was away. Remember what I said about you going after her?"

"Yeah. Steve saw her first so you told me I needed to respect that." He gives me an understanding look as he remembers the rest of that advice, "you said my friendship with Steve was more important than a girl."

"Want to explain how I went from giving you that advice, and then making a move on my girlfriends best friend? It's like I woke up one day a different person, I just don't know if I really want to figure out why. I don't know if I'm ready to accept that I destroyed my life these last few years, wrecked hers because I woke up in a bad mood and said fuck it."

He frowns at my pathetic reasoning, "you think that's what happened?"

"I loved her before, I loved her after, I even loved her during that summer. I just don't know if I want to address why my conscience left me."

"Lust?"

"I've always thought that she was pretty but I hadn't had a desire to ever go there even before you guy's moved to town. It had been more than subtly offered before and I hadn't been tempted then."

"But you guy's have talked about your connection, that you used to like her prior to our moving here?"

My confusion and sarcasm rings through in every word, every rhetorical question. "A like that was so powerful and year's there, one that I had ample opportunity to explore but never did... I was absolutely happy for the girl I supposedly liked since kindergarten to date whoever she wanted throughout junior high and freshman year because I was too scared to accept her less than subtle come on's. Does that sound like the entitled and who gives a fuck me that you met in sophomore year? Does it sound right that a connection that I didn't know about before that summer, a connection I didn't even begin to write into our story until after I had betrayed Bren… does it sound right looking at us throughout those years?" I look out the window again seeing the light and feeling clear headed knowing she is there, "my counsellor is making me go through my past chronologically because she told me at the end of our second mammoth session that I kept adding new 'truths' into my story. That it appeared I'd been writing layers that didn't previously exist, one's to justify past decisions. She said I was doing it to hide the truth, the real reason for my decisions. I'm not going to get better until I stop using these rewrites as my coping mechanism for my actions."

"Okay so maybe that summer you saw something in her-"

I look at the garage as I dry my hands and say something I haven't been brave enough to say out loud, "or maybe subconsciously, and this is what I'm afraid of… but the more I do therapy I'm starting to think that maybe, subconsciously I wanted to get revenge on her. Maybe I wanted revenge on her for taking another set of parents away from me."

I take a moment and then look at Brandon and see in his eyes that he thinks that may ring true, "what type of man does that make me? I purposely wanted to take something away that meant something to her as punishment. I sabotaged an important relationship for her because I couldn't tell her I didn't like the fact that I lost my first family, the first people I felt I could count on because she couldn't be honest and say to your parents that she wanted to go to Baja with me and that she'd like them to reconsider. That she took the easy way out and lied to them and that lie set repercussions through all of my relationships, all of the relationships I had begun to trust in."

"You think that's right don't you? You think that's the source of it all?"

"I think that this is why I've avoided therapy for so long. I think at the heart of it I may be no where near the noble guy I always wanted to be. I think there could be a man in here that may be capable of justifying writing a cheque and intimidating… forcing the mother of his child to accept it and accept that she'd never be able to access her son."

"Dylan you aren't Jack."

"Yeah tell that to your sister Brandon I'm sure she would see more than a few similarities in his reputation and my actions over the last few year's."

He puts his hand on my shoulder, "Dylan I want you guy's to figure this out but if you think you are capable of this level of vengeance to the person you love the most, even subconsciously…" he pauses. He doesn't want to say that I need to stay away from her. He doesn't want to say that he wouldn't support this. "Look, I need to know you are getting help for it, okay? If you think this is true I need to know that she won't be treated like this again."

I nod it's generous of him not to continue the threat though it's obvious that it's there. He gives me an understanding look thankful that I'm not making him say it, "move past junior year with your therapist. I'm sure she will appreciate it… and anyway there is only so many times she can hear about you making out with my sister every where, and let's face it it was the lion share of that year."

I'm quiet for a moment. These last few day's of rehashing those day's in therapy, writing about them, dreaming about them- it was my happy place. "It was a great year." He picks up the wet tea towel and quickly hits me with it knowing where my mind went.

Bren comes in a few minutes before our call and while she is in the bathroom freshening up Steve looks at us both, "she's a machine. If we are ever in a bar fight I'm hiding behind her. She did like sixty perfect chin ups some with one arm and it looked like it was nothing."

"You should see her in the studio gym, she's lethal."

"And hot right?" I growl at him while Brandon weld's the wet tea towel again to cause maximum impact on his roommate. "Aww."

"Stop looking at my sister. McKay is bad enough, I don't need another one to keep in line, keep your thoughts pure."

"Brando I remember high school, McKay had no pure thoughts about her. I swear I'm surprised that he didn't just consummate the relationship in the fucking quad. He was territorial enough over her, even in freshmen year the Keg guy's knew she was off limits."

As I walk out of the room to go find her for the call with the English therapist I look over my shoulder at Steve, "she's always off limits. Bren's never been on the market since the moment I met her."

"What about you McKay?"

"I haven't either, I just gave up and let squatter's use the premises to trash the place."

"Oh Kelly's going to love being called that and that description of your fight fest coupling."

"I don't care what she likes or doesn't." I hadn't spoken to her since the balcony at the beach apartment and I was very happy to not have to again. We both hurt Brenda on purpose but I at least was starting to own mine, she was still feeling justified.

The conversation with the therapist was interesting. Erica was making good progress especially after joining the soccer team. She had found girls her own age who she was making friends with. She was even going to host her first sleepover over on Saturday night which she was nervous about. Bren promised to call her tomorrow morning to tell her everything she'd need to know for a successful sleepover. Listening to them talk to each other took me back to freshman year. They still had this natural sibling relationship, Erica still idolised her.

Hearing Bren and Iris talk to the doctor before Erica joined us on the call was also eye opening. My mother hadn't had an easy summer with Erica, the doctor referred to Erica testing her boundaries to see if Iris would stay or more accurately let her stay. Hearing this was difficult, my mother had been a great world traveler, loved her retreats, her freedom. She had given all of that up to take care of Erica. Because my sister needed a home, because I was not equipped to do it myself, because she wanted to make amends with me- prove that she had changed, that given the opportunity she could have been a good mother to me. It was obvious though it wasn't an easy path, it was made even harder due to her having no physical support there, no respite from my sister's testing. Brenda had known this, preempted it and fixed it. She had made sure Erica and my mother knew that there was a family wider than the two of them, had made sure to give Iris support to get through the difficult times.

Given support wider than the guy who hadn't shown up after begging all his life for a family of his own, and angry that he never got one. Angry that the midwestern one he had hoped was finally his had a patriarch that saw him as not worthy. And now finally with a family of my own, one that I had gone to great lengths to secure, even risking Val and my life to get it, within weeks I've abandon it. I abandon them both when they needed me most.

When we finally hang up Bren looks at me from her position on the sofa. "What's wrong? Things are going well, Erica is starting to thrive and Iris has a good handle on it all."

"Without you they wouldn't be like that. I've wanted a family all my life, and as soon as I get one I run away from it just like Jack did. I'm just not calling this running extended business trips like him." I put my elbows on my thighs and look down studying my hands, "Bren what's wrong with me?"

She pretends she doesn't hear my voice break and instead answers it simply, she was never one to beat around the bush. "Nothing. Dylan you don't know how to do this because you've never been in one, well a healthy one. My father destroyed the illusion of that for you by treating you like the burden he had to endure."

I take a moment and admit how lost I am, "I don't know how to do it."

"You show up. That's it. You'll say the wrong thing at times or say the perfect thing, but most of all you just need to show up. Family is knowing someone has your back through everything. Dylan I know you know how to do that," I lift my watery eyes. Us? She pops that bubble of hope, "you did it for Jack when he was in prison. You owed him nothing but you still showed up."

"I still hate the fact you never got to meet him."

"I hate that Erica never got to know him."

"Oh course… but not you?"

"Dylan I probably would have punched him. I knew your past I knew what he did to you."

I laugh, "he'd have respected you a hell of a lot if you did that." She gives me a meaningful look, meeting Jack was mixed in with some of the most horrible times for her and discussing it, separating it from that time would be hard. We are quiet for a while and I finally ask what has been bugging me for hour's, "can I ask what your phone call was about? I know it's none of my business but it seemed serious."

"It is none of your business but it's also nothing you need to worry about. I pay people to do that and I'm a big girl now I know how to take care of myself."

"I thought family was supposed to show up?"

"Yeah, mine did." She stands up. "I'm going to have a shower before bed, excuse me."

As she hops out of the room I call to her, "Bren we are your family. Brandon and I we won't not show up again."

By the weariness in her voice I know she doesn't believe me, "night Dylan."

Finally a few hours to myself.

Val was at the club managing the deliveries to make sure they were ready for Saturday their biggest night of the week. Steve was on campus doing something with his Keg brother's and Brandon had just left to see the last couple of hours of the Rose tryouts for his article. I sat with everything mainly in arms reach courtesy of my twins need to limit my movements and support me, scared that I'd get more broken. He was naive, as if my frustration over my injury could break me. Like the sprain could do what the last fourteen months hadn't, the last three year's hadn't.

It was nice to finally have some time alone to myself but it was hampered by the waiting.

Watching tv wasn't working. Reading my book wasn't working. Reading Dylan's poetry gift was definitely not working. I didn't even attempt to listen to music that was the very antithesis of what I should do to distract myself while I waited for the package to arrive. This bloody package that I had been pretending wasn't being prepared over the last six months. This package that reinforced that Roy, Iris and Erica were the only people I could trust. That reinforced that while I can have friends people who I liked, people who I could spend time with, talk about my life with, I couldn't rely on anyone to ever really have my back. That everyone would betray me in the end if I had something they desired.

The doorbell finally rings just after one-thirty and as I hobble to the foyer I think about what awaits me on the other side. The proof that trust must be earned the hard way, through time, effort and going through the difficult moments together. That letting people in shouldn't be easy no matter how charismatic they are, even if they can feel like a soul sister or a nice guy that waits patiently to sweep you off your feet knowing that you are struggling with a past he is unaware of. Well he is now no longer unaware of. Not since the soul sister slash dorm roommate decided that inspiration for her songs didn't need to be earned through her own personal trials but instead could be stolen from mine.

My diary that I had begun after watching Woodstock for the first time and that had documented my last few months in LA- well my rewrite of that having left the first hidden accidentally in my things in LA before getting on the plane. My week of being hopelessly in love with Dylan. My summer of confusion and all the subsequent betrayal's, heartbreaks, therapy, and unpacking that followed. The diary that I had left accessible, never thinking that it would be read and used as the basis of over a half an album by the woman who had inspired the belief that I had found a friendship that could mean more than the one I treasured in junior year with Kelly. One that rivalled nearly the one that took twenty year's to develop with Val. The fact that opening the door would finally give the official commercial proof of that betrayal and that of the third man I had ever slept with.

The weight of what waited behind that door would have given me pause fourteen months ago, but now the constant betrayal's I had endured had meant that this level of disappointment in other's had become normalised. As I swiftly pull the door open to try and speed up being done with this shit I am faced not by the courier that I was expecting but by the two people who had betrayed me and tried to break my heart again- they just didn't realise that it was now always broken.

Immediately I have a flashback to opening this door on another two asking to go for a walk with me. At the conclusion of that imagine a thought immediately runs through me, I fucking hate LA. Emotions on emotions, history on top of the present; none of this was what I wanted in my life.

"Kitten what happened to you? Are you okay?" The concerned voice of my ex London boyfriend standing in the same spot of my first from all those year's ago. Another man who was capable of great betrayal whilst still appearing innocent and caring. The rush of betrayal and reminders of a hurt so deep sent a gushing of steal through my system. LA had obviously started to make me weak if my self-preservation felt the need to release more in the face of these two.

Fucking champagne, fucking wrap party, fucking deluded belief that I could just have a night of sexual release with Dylan without consequences. My weakness that night had obviously slowly been creeping in these last few weeks but it was now quickly being pushed out. The emotion was being supported by the reminder running through my head that my judgment was flawed when it came to people, especially the three men I had given my body to, or the three women who at different times I had believed would be my best friend's sisters for life.

Everyone would betray me if they desired something I had, every man would betray me for his own selfishness.