Neither did he. Dylan searched Norma’s face briefly for an answer he knew he wouldn’t find, before guilt made him look away. He hadn’t meant to blurt any of it out – Norman’s illness, their past… shit… it was all sort’ve taboo. They just didn’t talk about it. Norman, they needed to, obviously, but… it wasn’t nice of him to bring it up the way he had, and he knew it. Wringing his fingers in his lap, Dylan wondered for the millionth time if it was even slightly reasonable to believe he could have done things differently… he undoubtedly should have, but… considering his relationship with Sam, his own smaller stature when he was younger… standing up to him had never felt like an option back then. And on the odd occasions he’d tried to, well – Sam had always made sure to leave his mark, stark reminders when he looked in the mirror of why it was a bad idea. Small marks on his face and a scar on his hip left to this very day.
– But if he’d ever actually succeed in standing up to Sam… if he’d been the one to put a stop to the man – would Norman have been okay…?
“Sorry, Norma,” he finally muttered. He looked at his lap, then the carpet, gaze restless before he reached out to the arm of the couch and pushed himself up, standing. The nightmares that’d begged the question were just that: nightmares. Not exactly a good reason to bother Norma with these things. Hypotheticals, what ifs… none of that mattered. What was done was done, and shit had happened that none of them could ever take back.
“Is there, um…” He cleared his throat and cast his eyes around the room as he mirrored his mother, putting his hands in his pockets, too. “– Is there something I can help you with? Y’know, while I’m here…?” A shitty attempt at a change of conversation, but a genuine offer nonetheless. Norma was pretty tough, but he was just a little sturdier and taller – if she needed him to reach anything, lift anything, he’d be happy to help… if she bought the swift change of topic.
This wasn’t a topic she’d like to end on with her son after being told he’d be leaving her. He wouldn’t be gone forever, he wouldn’t be far away--- but there was a tug. Motherly persistence. She wanted to cling to him with the smothering only mothers can get away with. Keep him here, with her, because she had come to enjoy his company more than she ever expected to. Their relationship was molten until now. One of the good things to come out of this Hellish place...
❝ It’s -- it’s alright. ❞ Her lips pressed as she waved her hand in the air, accepting his apology without demanding too much attention for it. He’s always been so blunt, like her. Norma smiled as she paused in the flurry of her busywork, casting him a look of fondness before picking back up again. ❝ It’s good to talk about these things sometimes. Like a--- a reality check. ❞ Another, less hopeful smile crossed her and she neared him with a careful kind of softness. He didn’t mean her any harm, she knew that. She also knew he didn’t want to turn the conversation into an argument she would soon try to whisk away in a flurry of blindness and doubt.
She didn’t particularly need anything. Help was uncalled for in this moment and yet she couldn’t bring herself to dismiss him. She wanted him here, even just for conversation. ❝ I could use someone to help me change the linens down at the motel. ❞ She gestured with a forefinger toward the door. ❝ ...Unless Emma needs you. I wont keep you. ❞
