Author: oooLALApaige PM
This is the sequel to "Mad World." This might be confusing if you haven't read it! Mostly B/K and B/D. It's a year later and things have changed. This story focuses on the relationships between the characters and how they have dealt with their tragedy.Rated: Fiction T - English - Drama/Angst - Kelly T. & Brandon W. - Chapters: 18 - Words: 55,600 - Reviews: 101 - Favs: 13 - Follows: 16 - Updated: 06-03-11 - Published: 06-25-10 - id: 6084330
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
This is the sequel to my first fan fiction, Mad World. It's going to be B/K centric, but also going to have a lot of D/B drama, not mention most of the originals plus Val and Janet. This first chapter has like a "dream" sequence and then present day. The dream stuff is in italics in case you get confused, but it's pretty easy to get.! I hope ya'll like it! Chapter two will be up shortly, I'm just making some changes to it. This story will be more about their relationships and how to move on from the tragedy. Colin getting caught and going to trial, a pregnancy and an engagement are some things to look forward to! Not to mention B/K and B/D reunions. :) Have a great weekend! Mine is being rained on!:( Your reviews are always welcomed and appreciated!
"Miss, I know this is hard, but you need to let her go. We need to take you to the ambulance."
Kelly looked up at the man speaking to her. She gave him a blank stare and then looked around the room at the pandemonium taking place around her. Brandon was on his knees, with his hands behind his back, being cuffed by a police officer. His eyes were on hers as he mouthed an "I love you." She tried to open her mouth to tell him she loved him too, but she couldn't. She couldn't move. Another police officer was placing a blanket gently over John Sears, shaking his head. More officers and paramedics stood in the doorway, staring at Kelly intently. Kelly sighed and looked down at Donna. Her beautiful best friend seemed so peaceful, lying so still in her arms. Kelly closed her eyes and remembered. Donna had cut her loose and they were trying to make their way to the door when Donna fell on top of Kelly. She hadn't even realized what had happened until she saw the blood on Donna's chest. Kelly forgot about trying to escape. She moved so Donna was now lying in her lap, as she pressed her hands on Donna's chest trying to stop the bleeding, even though she knew it was too late.
"Miss, please, let go of her. The police and the paramedics need to see you right away. Let her go."
Kelly bolted out of bed with a start. She let her eyes adjust to the dark room as she wiped the sweat from her forehead. After almost a straight year of the same dream, she thought she would be used to it by now. She sighed and peeled away her t-shirt that was damp with more sweat. She tossed it into the hamper and grabbed another one from the dresser. This was pretty much her nightly routine. There weren't a lot of nights she didn't dream about Donna or that awful day. It was seared in her mind forever. She yawned and went over to the window, opening it so the freezing cold air rushed in. She looked out at the snow and smiled. Who knew a California girl could love snow so much? She stood in front of the window for awhile, trying to cool off after her nightmare. That's the good thing about living in the Colorado mountains, you don't need an air conditioner, just an open window. She did love the snow, but it didn't stop her from being a little nostalgic about Beverly Hills. She missed the beach, her friends, and her family. Sometimes she thought about going home, but she couldn't. She just couldn't go back, knowing what happened there. Everywhere would remind her of Donna. The Peach Pit, The After Dark, the boutique, Casa Walsh.. everywhere. She knew it was her fault Donna was killed. It was too much guilt to walk around with. She couldn't even bear to face her friends. She felt too guilty. It was her fault they lost someone so close to them. It was her fault Brandon killed John. All of it was her fault. Leaving California behind was the best choice she could make for everyone.
She gently shut the window, and got back into her bed. She closed her eyes and silently prayed for a dreamless night.
Brenda hated funerals. She always had. She wanted more than anything not to go, but Donna deserved better than that. She stood and watched Donna's casket lower slowly into the ground as she silently cried. The thought of never seeing Donna again or hearing her laugh, made Brenda sick to her stomach. Donna was so full of love and life, and it seemed impossible that she was really gone. She sighed and felt someone squeeze her hand. She looked up and saw Andrea' give her a sympathetic half smile. She squeezed her hand back, and looked at the people around her. Steve was next to Andrea', who watched on with a stern face. He held onto Janet who had tears streaks down her cheeks. David and Brandon stood to the left of Brenda, both emotionless and still. She could barely see their chests rise and fall. She looked around for Kelly, but she was no where in sight. She turned around, and could barely see Dylan standing among the trees. She stepped away from the crowd to walk towards him, but stopped in her tracks when she saw him take the beer bottle to his lips. She sighed, took a deep breath and took another step, but he shook his head at her. He took another gulp of his beer, only to toss the bottle onto the ground with four others. Dylan gave her one long, last stare, and turned around, walking away.
Brenda abruptly woke up from her uncomforting sleep. She looked at the clock and groaned when she saw it was 2:30 in the morning. She sighed and stretched on the bed, her arm resting in an empty spot. She closed her eyes, remembering her dream, that technically wasn't a dream at all, just a memory. Had it really been almost a year since the funeral? Had it really been almost a year since she had seen Dylan? Somehow, it all seemed like yesterday. She laid in bed in silence, listening to the creepy sounds of the empty house. She wasn't sure how she lived there anymore without Dylan. It was hard at first, but after awhile, she just grew accustomed to it. She figured Dylan would come back one day. Whether she would be there or not was still undetermined. She rolled over and closed her eyes again, wishing to dream about anything but Dylan McKay.
Steve couldn't believe everything that was happening. He sat on the curb, watching everyone move around him. Brandon was led by two police officers down the stairs of the apartment in handcuffs. Brenda was screaming his name from somewhere in the distance. He looked into Brandon's face, and it almost scared him. Brandon looked animalistic. He just killed a man, and didn't look upset from the act at all. He watched on as they pushed him into a police car, not pleased. He looked over at Dylan who was talking to another officer, trying to explain the situation. Dylan was getting heated, raising his voice and flailing his arms around, trying to get his point across. Brenda stood crying, trying to explain to a different police officer what had happened, but she wasn't getting many words out. Her uncontrollable sobs were getting the best of her. He looked up at the stairs again, only to see two paramedics trying to get a stretcher down. Steve took a deep breath, preparing himself to see Donna or John, but instead saw Kelly. Steve jumped up to see what was wrong with her, but an officer stopped him.
"Young man, we're gonna have a few questions for you. Can you come down to the station?"
Steve looked at the officer incredulously. One of his friends was dead, one just killed someone and was arrested, and another was just taken away in a stretcher. Did he not have any decency? He was going to give the officer a peace of his mind, but he heard crying. He looked around trying to find it..
Steve felt someone hit him hard on the chest. He opened his eyes and realized he was in his room. He let out a deep sigh, until he realized he could still hear the crying. He felt another slap on his chest.
"Steve, get up. It's your turn." Janet said groggily.
Steve stretched, got up, and pulled on a sweatshirt. "Yeah, yeah, I'm going." He went down the hall to Maddie's room where she was softly crying. He smiled when he saw her. Looking at her, his own child, never got old. She was beautiful. She lucked out with her mom's good looks. He picked her up and held her close to his chest.
"What's wrong, Maddie? Did you have a bad dream too? It's okay, I'm right here." He sat down in the rocking chair next to her bed, and gently rocked her back and forth. After a few moments, her crying had subsided. "That's better, baby. Everything is fine."
He continued to rock her and looked around the nursery. He smiled at the thought that it used to be his high school room. He loved living in the house he grew up in. He was sorry that his mom left to live with her partner in Miami, but loved that he was able to get a good house for his family. Maddie changed Steve a lot. Janet and Maddie were his top priority now. He smiled and looked down at his almost five month old baby and beamed with pride. He kissed the top of her head and placed her back in her crib. He went back to his and Janet's room, hopped into bed and tried to go back to sleep. He had to be at The Beat office in a few hours and all he wanted was a dreamless, non-crying, sleep.
David stood in the doorway and looked at his sister. Kelly was sitting on the ground, moving. Granted, she didn't look too good physically, but at least she was alive. He almost let out a sigh of relief until he saw Donna lying in Kelly's lap. He took a step closer and realized Donna was bleeding. Kelly was holding her hands over Donna trying to stop it, but there was too much. He looked on in horror as he realized Donna's chest wasn't moving. She wasn't breathing. He looked back up at Kelly who was just simply crying. He wanted to go to them, but his legs wouldn't move. He was paralyzed. He watched as Dylan went over to them feeling for Donna's pulse. He tried to talk to Kelly, but Kelly was ignoring him or just lost in her own world. Dylan looked back at David and grimaced. He shook his head no, and backed away from the girls. David felt like his chest was going to burst. He didn't even get to tell her how he felt. He should have told her.
David opened his eyes and looked around. The television was blaring some scooby-doo cartoon and all the lights were on. He sighed. He fell asleep in front of the television again. At least he woke up before Brandon could come downstairs and chew him out about the electricity bill again. He shut it off and went up the stairs to go to his room. It felt weird living in the Walsh house at first, but it was pretty much his only choice. After awhile, it began to feel like home so he didn't bother leaving. He walked past Valerie's room and stopped. Even though they had been living and working together for almost a year, they rarely talked. She had changed a lot, but it still hurt too much to get close with her. He quietly shut her door and almost went into his room, but he stopped. He heard a weird banging noise from somewhere. He followed the noise and it took him to Brandon's room. The light was glowing beneath the door and he opened it a crack to see what was going on. Brandon had his back towards the door, hitting his punching back that hung in the corner. David watched on as Brandon threw hit after hit. David shook his head and shut the door again, going to his own room. He tossed his shirt somewhere in the corner and fell into bed. He drifted off to sleep, knowing he was going to have the same dream over again.
Dylan leaned up against a tree and watched the funeral from a far. He was glad he wasn't closer because Mrs. Martin's cries were loud and heartbreaking. He looked at his friends and hurt for every single one of them. It had been such a long time since he felt such emotional pain. He didn't even feel like this when his dad and Toni died. Maybe it was because he not only felt like Donna died, but everyone died.. He watched Brenda hold onto Andrea's hand and cry so freely. His heart broke for her. He hated that she was in so much pain and he couldn't do anything for her. He picked up his fifth beer and put it to his lips. He knew it was wrong and it was going to take him into a downward spiral, but he didn't care. He was feeling too much. Everything hurt too much, and his old friend alcohol would make sure he felt nothing at all. He looked up again, and saw Brenda coming towards him, but he shook his head no. He knew he was about to hurt her in the worst way, but it would be easier to just leave without a goodbye. He was about to be in dark, drunk days, and he couldn't put Brenda through that. He knew leaving would hurt her, but being around the old Dylan, would crush her even worse.
Dylan picked his head up off the table, and studied his surroundings. He must have passed out for a moment. There were few patrons in the bar at this hour. He noticed a half empty bottle in front of him, and he picked it up with delight. He finished it and pushed it aside with the other multiple empty bottles. He tossed two hundred dollar bills on the table, not sure of how much his tab was, but hoping it would cover. It seems like a lot, but there have been many times lately that it wouldn't cover his tab. He grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair and stumbled out of the bar. He walked down the empty street, trying to remember the way to where he was staying. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, tempted to call Brenda again, but last time he did, she was very unhappy. Apparently slurred phone calls professing your love, is not romantic. He sighed and let the phone drop back in his pocket. He knew he needed to go back to California, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. She wouldn't understand him leaving without a goodbye. She wouldn't understand his drinking habits. She wouldn't understand why he left and traveled the world alone. And she sure as hell wouldn't understand why he was standing in Colorado at that very moment.
Brandon wasn't asleep. It didn't matter that it was 3:30 in the morning. He rarely slept more than three hours a night. He felt like he had constant adrenaline pumping through his body. He taped up his hands and decided to have a go around with his punching bag. Buying a punching bag was probably the best thing he had done. Before he bought it, he took all of his anger out on the people around him. He knew Valerie and David were especially getting sick of his outbursts since they lived with him, but now, he worked his aggression out on the bag. It was amazing how much it helped.
He stood in front of the bag and gave it a swift hit. Right, left, right, left. He alternated hits, starting out slowly. This was is usual routine. He would start out slow and steady, then his mind would start reeling, thinking about everything that pissed him off, and he would go to town on the bag until he physically couldn't anymore.
He started thinking about everything he needed to do for the day. He had to be at The Beat office by eight. He had two articles he needed to get in, then he had lunch with the guy from the Times, so they could go over his freelance pieces. He was supposed to have dinner with Beth at seven, but he thought he might cancel. She was more of a time filler than an actual joy to be around.
He hit the bag a few more times, still soft and steady until his mind went to Kelly.
Was she dating anyone? Punch. Was she still in California? Punch. Was she okay? Punch. Why did she change her number? Punch. Was she alive? Punch. Has she heard from Colin? Punch, punch. Did she ever think about him? Punch, punch. Did she feel guilty for leaving during the funeral, without even saying goodbye? Punch, punch. Did she ever actually love him? Punch, punch. Did she blame him for Donna's death? Punch, punch, punch. Does she think he is a killer? Punch, punch, punch. Does she even care that I tried to find her? Punch, punch, punch.
Brandon stopped for a second for a breather. He hated that even though it had been a year since she left, he still thought about her. He hated that he still had so many questions that were left unanswered. Everyone was confused and sad that she left, but him more than most. He knew with everything that had happened, it was going to be hard to pick up their relationship, but her leaving all together? Nobody knew where she was but Jackie, but Jackie wasn't giving him any answers. He tried to find her once, but had no luck. He knew if anyone could, it would be Dylan and his mysterious resources, but Dylan jetted off to go around the world shortly after Kelly left. The thought always crossed his mind that they took off together, but he always shook it off. Kelly left so she could be alone and away from everything that reminded her off that day, and Dylan was apart of that.
Brandon sighed and took a drink of water. He just wanted to have a day were he didn't once think of her. She obviously didn't care about him. She left without even a goodbye, so why should he care about her? He hit the bag again, strictly out of anger. He remembered Andrea' coming over after the funeral telling them that she was just at Jackie's and Kelly was gone. Brandon didn't believe her at first. Andrea' tried be comforting, but it didn't work. He remembered picking up one of Dylan's beer bottles and chunking it into the wall, causing glass and beer to splatter everywhere. He had never felt so angry. After everything that had happened, how could she just leave him? He hit the bag a few more times. His thoughts went back to the day Donna died. The police came in so quickly, he didn't even get a catch to talk to her. She was in the hospital for a few days and he was arrested and held in jail for four days before he was released. The next day was Donna's funeral and he planned on seeing her there, but she never showed up. She was already on her way to who knows where. The last time he actually talked to her was in New York, when he told her not come with him. It was his idea for her to be there, so it was his fault she was alone and got tricked by Colin. It was his fault she was injured and Donna was dead. It was all his fault. With that, he went back to punching the bag, over and over again.