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

Chapter Nineteen

As I reach for my cell Dylan lifts his mouth away from my ear and turns to Brandon, "Jones can you turn the music down?"

My brother must agree because as I say hello to the unknown caller Shoop is cut off. My greeting is met with tear's and sniffling but no word's. I quickly move my cell away to see the caller id. "Sweetheart what's wrong? Is Iris okay?"

He hadn't moved more than a foot away, trying I imagine to give me privacy but not yet ready to surrender the fantasy that he could just apologise for that public display and everything would be okay. Hearing his mum's name has him once again bending down to my ear but this time it's to listen rather than give weak apologies.

"She's so mean. I don't want to live here anymore."

I breathe out, this isn't the first time the youngest McKay has done this. I know Dylan has never gotten a DNA test but their personalities were too alike to be coincidental; she dislikes having to follow rules. I'd seen it enough when her brother rebelled when he lived with Iris junior year, though his rebellion was reaching for a bottle and running away, Erica's thankfully was just screaming about the unfairness and then wanting to run away. I imagine when she's older and has transportation off the pineapple mountain it will no longer be a want, she'd leave just like her brother.

Dylan who had heard his sister's response moves around to give me concerned eyes. Last nights therapy session was obviously still in the forefront of his mind, and then add to that the stark difference in his sister's mood right now he obviously thinks this is something major. I doubt it is. Again like her brother she reacts to the minor things, rather than realising it's the underlying issue below that's feeding the distress. He reacted over the top to Iris requesting he not stay out all night when really his anger was actually around her abandonment, both siblings focused on the minor complaints rather than address the major problem.

"What happened?"

"She won't let my sleepover be outside." Both Dylan and I move our heads slightly away from the cell at the sharp whale she makes at the end. "Madison at today's game said that she's glad she can't come because it will be boring just hanging out in a lounge room."

Okay so Madison sounds like another Amanda, and I'd bet money her actual complaint is about her not being allowed or able to go. Teenage girls with all their hormones and popularity contests were just plane mean to each other. I knew that by being both on the receiving and the giving end.

I didn't need to know Iris' reasons, if she was saying no she was saying no. Iris's no's were not the sexist no's I was raised with, Iris wasn't trying to raise the perfect doll. Erica needed to respect her no's as they were said with love, though I knew Erica pushing back on all limitations Iris put on her was her way of testing boundaries testing that love. As my Doctor had been saying for months now, it's easier for a parent or a caregiver to say yes but too much yes actually demonstrates a lack of interest or care. Kids know that no actually takes more effort and that it subconsciously means that they are worth the effort, they're worth the worry.

Kelly was a perfect example of that growing up, Jackie said yes to everything she wasn't denied anything. At the end of sophomore year and the start of junior Kelly was at her most healthiest because Jackie set limits and engaged. When she fell pregnant that engagement shifted and Kelly was once again void of any limits- it almost made me understand her betrayal of me, her regression back to the girl who tried to get a date with my boyfriend in sophomore year. It almost made me understand her search for validation through him. It didn't justify the ongoing betrayal though.

Iris and I knew that we didn't want Erica to grow up entitled and allow her earlier trauma to define her character. She was given a shit Mum who used her to run a scam and put her with dangerous people, but we didn't want our sympathy our empathy for that to translate into giving her everything. Saying no was Iris's way of saying she cared, saying Erica was worth the screaming the anger that she would be faced with from saying that word. It was her way of saying that trauma isn't allowed to define us, it doesn't give you a debt that society owes you. Trauma doesn't mean you can get everything you want to make yourself feel better, especially if your wants mean you have to traumatise other's to get them. And in truth nothing we could give Erica could make her Mum's treatment better, but Iris could show her how a proper Mum should care, should love. She could show her that however difficult she made it that Erica was worth it, that her being safe was worth it. That however much it hurt to be pushed away Erica was worth those blows- she could do nothing to make any of us leave her, she was loved and she was wanted by her family.

"Well sweetheart if Iris is saying no she's saying no, and I actually think that's for the best. Camping sounds good in theory but it actually sucks. Who wants to sleep with mosquitoes and snakes whilst on a cold hard ground? It would be fun for like forty minutes and then it will be miserable."

"Brenda but what's going to make my sleepover special?"

And there it was the actual problem. Erica didn't feel like she was worthy of peoples time. Her mum's behaviour and even Dylan's abandonment had left her believing that she wasn't good enough for people just by being herself. There was a blonde behind me that was making a veggie platter that I knew still struggled with that, still struggled to understand her self worth void of outside reassurance from men. A brunette who was mixing me up a drink who also struggled with that but chose to claim hers through manipulation. I could look in the mirror and put myself in that category as well, how I had fallen apart from being betrayed by my boyfriend and best friend, how my twins disconnection had made me question everything about who I was.

My honorary little sister would not fall into any of our traps, it's why Iris and I were working with a therapist why Erica would get her own. She was enough, she didn't need other's to define her. It was something London had taught me and then tested me on, even with Patrick's and Danielle's betrayal, another boyfriend and best friend but this time I was able to hold onto myself. Though I knew it was easier because my feelings for Patrick were not even at the most superficial level similar to mine for Dylan.

"Erica your sleepover is going to be special because they get to spend time with you. You are going to be welcoming and hospitable, because I know you have organised the room to make it comfy, you have all the snacks we discussed this morning on the phone as Iris already text me to confirm. You got a bunch of movies, and game's. The girls will see that and know you cared enough to put effort in for them, and then on top of that they are going to spend an evening with the coolest girl I know."

"Really?"

"Absolutely. You are awesome, even without the cold ground and mosquitoes."

She laughs a little at my joke, "the mosquitoes are pretty bad at the moment. It rained a lot this week."

"I take that back, cold damp ground. You would have all gotten sick."

"That's what Iris said." Her voice carry's a fair bit of embarrassment and remorse.

"Speaking of Iris. I'm guessing you stole her cell again without asking?"

Her tone is full of shame, she had promised not to do that again. "Yeah."

"On a scale of one to ten how mean were you to her? Ten of course being the worst."

She pauses and whisper's. "A seven."

"Well what are you going to do then?"

"Go inside and apologise."

"For?"

She knows what I'm getting at, she isn't allowed to call me without Iris's permission. It's not a drama so much with me being in the States but she racked up a few large bills calling me in England when she first arrived at Iris's. "Brenda if I tell her about the call she might cancel my sleepover... I'll tell her tomorrow."

I shake my head and finally meet her brother's eyes who had been listening attentively. If he wants to be involved he needed to get involved, in both the fun and the hard. He understands immediately what I want and nods. "Sweetheart I'm here with Dylan and he wants to talk to you, so I'm going to pass the phone over okay." When she confirms I say goodbye and give him the phone. When I indicate the expectation with my eyes, he merely winks and runs his fingers across my cheek. As he greets his sister I turn to watch him walk out of the room and am met with a bunch of face's each holding different look's.

Kelly as always vocalise her musings first, she's never been good at patience. "You are in touch with Iris and Erica?"

"Yeah. Iris and I have always written to each other, well ever since we met. When Erica went to live with her, I've been able to reconnect with her too."

"Is she doing okay?" Clearly it's a question she hasn't asked before because it comes across quietly, unsure.

"She's adjusting. Susanne and Kevin, well they weren't the greatest parents, even if it appears they tried to keep her in the dark. She knows now, and well that's not easy to accept that you were used to hurt someone you love. And then…" I look at Val and give her a sympathetic smile. I have my issue's with her method of hurting me but I respect the hell out of her for helping Dylan like that- even if she charged a fee. Getting Erica back put her own life at risk, it put all three of their lives at risk. "The rescue was pretty traumatic as well."

My brother thankfully pulls me and Val out of our eye lock where we both had got lost in what those events could have led to for all three of them. "You sounded so much like Aunt Shelia on that phone call. She was always the voice of reason with you, Lindsey and Val."

Val looks at Brandon at that, "that's because she was the coolest grown up we knew. She'd always talk to us like adults and listen to our crazy dramas no matter how petty they were."

I laugh at that, "the pettier the better. She loved a good drama. Remember all the soaps she'd watch, she was so angry when season nine of Dallas ended up being a dream."

They both crack up. "She went on and on about it that summer, I think Mum was going to kill her. Especially when you two were able to repeat the whole storyline."

Val snorts, "even Abby was annoyed at that. It was clear we had been sneaking out of bed to watch it."

I laugh, "mum blamed Aunt Sheila because we only knew about the show because she told us all about it."

While the three of us share a moment remembering someone so important to us Dylan makes his way back into the room and comes straight up to me handing me the phone. We had formed an understanding on Iris and Erica, we were family when it came to them. It meant that as much as I wanted to live in my frustration at his nerve at calling me out earlier for trying to move on, it wasn't the time.

"She apologised and admitted to Iris that she made the phone call, I made her do it on the phone with me. She has the McKay streak-"

"Yeah she likes the grey's." He got my reference, Erica wouldn't lie outright but like him she would avoid going near the truth. You'd have to know what to ask, in order to ask directly otherwise you'd get a version, a shadow of the truth. Iris and I had figured that out early on when she played us off each other. Iris said it was genetic, McKay's lived in the grey's. Iris took it as absolute confirmation of Erica's paternity, she like Dylan had inherited that trait from Jack.

"Mum say's thank you by the way, and says she will call you later to hear about your day." He gives me a meaningful look at that, disliking that his mum knows more than him. That she knew about my day. I send him a challenging one right back. He surprises me then when he again lifts his hand to my cheek, "she's lucky to have you as a sister. You were great with her, from the moment you met her you've been great with her. She loves you so much. I didn't think it was possible for her to love you more than freshman year when she idolised you but now..."

I pull my face back from his touch and then turn back to the stove that I had switched off during the phone call. "Yeah well she's a great little sister to me too. Even Roy thinks that, and he's not the biggest fan of little people, he's worked with too many child actor's to think they are harmless." I switch back on the stove and look to Val, she immediately understands and brings me a drink. Thank god.

She avoids looking at me as much as possible. Well until her third drink. By then we are all sitting outside around the table with the constant music floating through the windows. Her tapas are amazing and Steve has once again proposed twice more over dinner, the second was to beat Silver's over the top declaration and swinging around of her as the meal was laid out. They both received death glares, Steve laughed at his, Silver lifted his brow at me in challenge. It made me regret picking up his call. He had rung the house to find out what were everyone's plans for the evening and as soon as I said Silver Bren was yelling out an invite to him.

Brandon and I couldn't figure out why she was drawing everyone here and hosting them all until we could see her game. She kept them all talking about themselves and when that failed she would reminisce about sophomore year, well only moments that did not include me. She was keeping us all too busy to ask questions about what we witnessed both regarding the animal giving nickname dickhead from earlier, and about her and I. It worked until Donna referenced her amazing voice to Ray who had come to see his now tipsy girlfriend. All the girls had been enjoying the sangria, the guy's had moved onto the beers after one glass each of the sweet drink. Val had even arranged a round of shots as an after dinner refresher. I was currently the only one who had not consumed anything.

"Brenda you can sing?" At Ray's direct question the table freeze's. No one had mentioned any aspect of the afternoon scene to Bren.

"It's required at RADA as so many stage productions require some musical ability."

Brandon smiles at his sister, "I didn't know you actually could sing that well. I mean I know you could hold a tune but some of those notes… you obviously excelled in the classes."

She gives him a weak smile, "I was on a scholarship I needed to keep my grade's high to keep it. It meant I had to work hard by pushing myself out of my comfort zone."

It surprises me that Kelly responds but I guess they have a weird friendship that has maintained when everyone else has viewed her as out of sight out of mind. "You don't feel comfortable singing? Cause you do it really well."

"Thanks but yeah it's not my preferred style of performing. It was Danielle's thing."

"That song though it's wow, it's amazing." Donna looks at Brenda, she hasn't asked a question but it's clear she wants to know.

Bren looks at her drink and finishes the last sip of it. Brandon and I share a look. He had got her her muscle relaxer pills before dinner, she was required to take them and with increased swelling this evening it was not advisable that she skip. When he had given his twin the pills from her bag, he had gone to take her drink away and she had simply looked at him and glared. He backed off immediately with his palms raised. He, Val who decided to let the night manager handle the club, and I had been monitoring her ever since though both were now feeling the effects of their own consumption too. It was now left to me to protect her, a position I'd naturally adopted since our eyes met at the locker.

"Yeah it was written for a showcase at school. RADA likes to promote the range of artistic talents of their students, you get extra credit for performing original work. Anyway a producer is interested in the song for a movie soundtrack, I haven't sung it in over six months. I actually haven't sung for months they needed to see if I could."

"Oh my god. Bren does that mean you will be singing the song yourself for an actual movie soundtrack?"

I nearly snort at Donna's question, Bren's the lead and producer in a potentially large film franchise. What does she think that it's a low budget made for TV thing she's making? Bren leans forward and pours more sangria into her glass, "well I think I'll have to, the people making the movie are not people I want to disappoint." I don't need to know her better than anyone else to know she doesn't want to do this, that she would sing only because she is forced to for her reputation.

"Can't they do it without you or replace your vocal's?"

Silver hadn't been here, it was clear from the now less cryptic comment Bren had said to the two of them this afternoon that it wasn't an option. She shakes her head at Silver in response.

He gives her a smile that I'd have pushed him up against a locker for if he had done that at West Bev, "well if you are out of practice maybe I can help. Do you want to sing something together? It would give me a chance to hear the incredible voice I missed out on earlier."

She snort's, "it's hardly incredible-"

"It was Baby." She takes another long sip at my word's.

"Come on Bren we've always been great at keeping up with each other. Remember that dance competition we won in freshman year? I'm sure a singing duet would be equally as powerful… and hot."

Silver was seriously wearing on my patience, Steve could see my frustration and smiled in delight. "Come on future wife sing for us, or better yet let's go into the garage and you could do some more chin ups. You looked hot doing those last night." The blonde idiot actually wiggles his eyebrows- how does this man ever get laid? My annoyance sends me on an all too common rabbit hole of wondering. How did I ever think that a woman who would find him attractive, like his behaviour… how did I think that woman would ever have anything in common with me? She dated him for nearly a year, and they actually got along. No wonder we were a nightmare together.

Brandon's clearing of his throat to send his idiot roommate a look, brings me back to the present. I give the same idiot the death glare that I had used to build my reputation at West Bev. It was the look that said one more remark and we'd be having word's. For good measure I send the same one to Silver. He swallows and immediately he avoids meeting my eyes, it makes me feel marginally better.

Ray jumps in then, "Brenda, I have my guitar in my truck I could grab it while you and David figure out what you are going to sing?"

Kelly must see that Bren doesn't like the conversation because she changes direction before Bren can answer, but in typical fashion and with her less than subtle look at me, it's done less out of empathy and more out of personal gain. "So in our calls you didn't mention Stuart turned up in London. Did you…?"

At that Bren actually laughs out loud, "hell no he was there very very briefly. Though we did try and end on better terms, Palm Springs wasn't our finest hour." Bren looks briefly at me and I try and hold her eyes, I didn't trust her in that car. I wonder if I had reciprocated, told her how I really felt would she have ever been tempted to go to London? Would I have been less willing to go against Jim's advice if Bren and I had just started back our relationship? Would I have gone to London too? Spent my summer reading Byron in his country while my woman refined her talent on stage, I could see us having weekends away on the continent sending postcards to Erica. If I had been less of a coward then would Kelly and Brandon who had kissed that weekend, would they have gotten together and stayed together then?

The longing in my eyes to go back and fix that car ride, to do it properly must be evident to the woman who has always been able to see into my core. She quickly breaks our stare and looks at Ray, "yeah go grab the guitar. I'm sure the three of us can find something we all know." Another distraction.

I manage to get away with singing a very minor part in a duet with David taking the majority of the song. To stop anyone making comment or requesting anything else I ask Ray to play that Angel song of his that I heard the other night at the After Dark. Throughout the song I begin to shift a little. My leg is elevated but it's been unwrapped for too long and even with the muscle relaxer and the alcohol in my system I can feel that it's swelling back up again. When Ray is asked to play another song by Donna, Dylan stands and moves around to my ear.

"Do you want me to take you inside and wrap your ankle?"

I look at my brother who has never been able to hold a drink, he is going to be useless in helping me. I turn to Dylan, "no it's fine. I'll wrap it before bed."

He lifts his brow and there is a healthy amount of pleading in his tone, "we talked about this the other night. Please don't make me sit here watching you in pain-"

"Feel free to go home then."

He closes his eyes takes a deep breath and then once again is leaning in, kneeling on his legs so that he is looking directly at my face, "your stubbornness is bordering on pigheadedness. Lift up your skirt Baby, if it's not swollen too bad I'll go back to my seat and leave you be, but…"

He doesn't say it, we both know how heavy handed he can be when he feels I'm hurt or could be. What teenage boy goes to his girlfriends therapy session sitting out the front with her parents while she goes into a room? I hadn't asked him that day to go but like with my biopsy he just turned up, he was heavy handed when he wanted to be. My Doctor and I spent time discussing that, why a guy who would do that could turn around months later and have an affair. Dylan reaches out and rubs his finger on the other side of the water drop. I'm startled from my thinking by the movement, not even aware that I had been tracing the other side of the droplet on my wrist.

I don't lift my maxi skirt up as I know what we'll see. "Can you pass me my crutches please?"

He does but the booze and pills have made me less graceful on them, well as graceful as anyone can be on crutches. We are at the base of the stairs when I realise my compression bandage is upstairs with my stuff, having left them in Brandon's room after my bath. Dylan doesn't even ask, he immediately just takes my crutches and leans them against the wall, and then scoops me up.

When I'm situated on Brandon's bed, he goes to my bag and see's the bandage sitting on top of it. He quickly picks it up and brings it over to me. He looks at me expectantly and when I do nothing he asks with only one word, "Baby?"

As I lift my skirt I hear his sharp intake of breath, trying to avoid the lecture of why did I let it get this swollen I step in. "Please stop with the name."

He is gently wrapping my ankle without direction, he must have listened closely to me instructing Brandon yesterday afternoon. While he is wrapping it up he responds, "I don't even know I'm doing it, it's just how I think of you."

"Well I'm not your Baby anymore so stop it please."

"Bren you'll always be that but I'll try to respect your wishes and avoid using it." We are quiet for a few moments and I think I may be able to get out of this one-on-one without any more emotional landslide's. I thought too soon.

"I'm sorry about downstairs. I don't know what killed me more, knowing you were with that guy or knowing that his name for you perfectly described your wake up routine. You do stretch when you wake up. You curve your back and point your toe's. Before you left for London I used to rest my hands on your stomach as you did it. Holding you from behind. I would feel the muscles in your stomach extend as your legs were stretched out, and then as you would curve your back I would push your stomach lightly pulling you into me, so I could bury my head in your neck and breath you in as your back stretch made your ass rub against my-"

"Dylan."

He looks up at me, his eyes are foggy like he's in a daze. I ignore the emotions that stirs, I know how that feels how it feels to be right back in one of our moments. I've got lost in our memories too often, they are vivid like you are there- I thought it was just me. "That summer even when I was waking up with a hangover, I'd imagine you there. Stretching next to me, I could almost feel your warmth, my fingers could remember the silk of your skin, I could never get your smell though. Even your perfume isn't quite right unless it's on your skin. It doesn't give me the same calmness- believe me I've tried."

I need to stop whatever he is doing, I shouldn't have had those drinks. Brandon was right, my defences are too low. "Well I'm sure the women who were laying next to you were able to distract you-"

He cuts me off, "I didn't sleep with anyone else that summer. I… I wasn't perfect, I was pretty drunk down in Mexico. I would imagine you were there dancing with me. Sometimes it would take me a moment to realise that the girl I had been spinning wasn't really you, their lips would be on me for a second. Sometimes and I'm not proud of this I wanted to pretend it was you a little longer. My body though… well my body always knew even drunk it knew. I only wanted you. I wasn't perfect but I was trying to hold myself together until you came back."

More revisionist history, I shake my head. "I'm sick of the lie's. Dylan I got on that plane and you never spoke to me again. Stop with this broken heart bullshit. It was another summer of out of sight out of mind."

He's sitting on the bed next to me in a second, and is glaring at me. Through gritted teeth he looks into my eyes. I turn I don't want to see the hurt the disbelief that those brown depths are screaming at me. He grabs my face gently and turns it, he holds my eyes. "That week. That week was everything. It kept me sane. It gave me strength to hold on even with Erica gone, the money gone, even when I was feeling like a fucking fool. I grew up around Jack's mob buddies, a McKay getting played- I felt like a fucking idiot, I was so ashamed. Our week. Picturing you daily in bed next to me. It kept me sane."

I attempt to shake my head, he doesn't relinquish his hold on me. "My letters and phone calls were left unanswered, unreturned. You are full of shit-"

"You would have come home. You would have left your summer program and come home. You would have heard it in my voice. Seen my need in any letter I sent, I know because I ripped up everyone I wrote. I wanted you to enjoy your success. I wanted you to have your summer of being celebrated for your amazing talent. I didn't want to drag you down. I didn't want to drag you home. I kept thinking that I could hold on for the summer and then I could break when you got back." He moves his fingers to my hair and picks up a few strands, his voice softer, "I could break with you. You'd catch me like before, like our first date. You'd catch me like I've caught you."

I'm not sure if it's the mix of alcohol and tablets but something in me believes his sincerity. I swallow the lump that that realisation causes and whisper, "I didn't come home."

"No I drove back up from Baja to wait for you. I drove up to be there when you landed. The house and I were a mess you would have known straight away. You would have seen the beer bottles but I knew you would forgive me as I wasn't… I wasn't completely broken. I had held on so I could break and then you could help me pick up the pieces." He leans in and kisses my forehead, "you are the only one who knows how they fit together. Know's how to support me putting them back together, I'm always stronger when you are there." He leans his forehead on mine, "Brandon left an answering machine message telling me you weren't coming back-"

"I asked him to go over. Not that he knew about the week but I was angry, devastated actually but I still wanted to know you were okay."

"I broke. His message stopped and… it wasn't even your voice telling me. Leaving me again. It it all flooded through me then and I finally broke."

We are quiet for a long time just sharing air. I blame the muscle relaxer's, I'm defenceless. He's too close and I feel powerless.

I attempt to pull on some reserve strength, I might be pigheaded but it's giving me enough control to say don't give in. "Why are you telling me this? It doesn't matt-"

"You're not done yet. You aren't done with me yet. You want to be but you aren't. I won't ask for more I told you that I won't ask for you to come back. I'm trying to get better but part of me getting better, being healthy for me, for you, for us is to be honest and transparent. You weren't to blame for me breaking down after that message, for a while I believed you were. I was so mad at you but it wasn't you. You broke in London with out me and I broke here without you. You though have put yourself back together with steel- you're stronger than ever. I put myself together with cello tape, used string, and some chewing gum. I need to put myself back together properly, you don't deserve a life knowing that I'm fragile without you. You deserve to know… you deserve to feel that the love of your life is strong enough to not hold you back, is strong enough to father your children, to be your husband. To hold your hand and weather any landslide or earthquake. You deserve everything Baby and I want to be the man who gives that to you."

It's that, it's that hope for the future that belief, his want of those titles that has me reacting.