Aevum of Itero

Chapter 12

There was an old saying in show business. Said to have originated from circus ringleaders of the nineteenth century, it emphasized the show must go on in whatever the circumstance.

Go on it did, albeit with an understudy in the role of Juliet Capulet.

An understudy David said had the worst breath laced with pickle juice, though Dylan believed David to be a tad biased.

As none of the gang held familial ties to Donna, they were all required to await news on the Martins.

To Dylan's immense surprise, the wait hit Brandon the hardest.

Trailing not too far behind was Brenda, who insisted on staying for hours in the hospital in the hopes of seeing Donna, until she drooped to the point that Dylan would set her into his car to bring her home.

When he showed up at Casa Walsh, carrying a sleeping Brenda, Jim permitted Dylan to stay the night in Brandon's room.

Before the rest of the Walshes awoke, Dylan snuck into Brenda's bedroom in his Baja pullover to adjust her comforter, press his fingers against his lips, and set those fingers against her forehead.

Then, ever so softly, he dropped a real kiss against her forehead.

He spent the next two nights with the Walshes, lending his support to Brenda for her to have the energy to continue to shine on stage despite the worry for whom she had started to refer to as her best friend, slated just behind her brother, Dylan, and Valerie Malone.

Perhaps being that close to Brenda is what initiated the dream.

He had returned to Ireland; a more urban Ireland than the one the heavily pregnant Brenda of his previous dream had stood in, with far more cars and buses.

His ears perked up, hearing the loud, urgent tones of a thirty-six-year-old Brandon Walsh in the midst of an argument.

With Connor Monaghan, apparently.

Before the men could shut the turquoise door adorned with a bronze knocker, Dylan sped into the house and began his search for Brenda.

"Look, Connor; dammit, would you just listen to me? I know my sister. I fucking shared a womb with my sister. I'm telling you, I don't know who the hell this girl is, but she isn't my sister."

"And I keep telling you, Brandon; Brenda hasn't been herself since the miscarriage. You think I don't know my own wife?"

Miscarriage? Dylan's heart split into halves, quarters, thirds. Brenda had miscarried?

He should have been ecstatic at the thought.

He wasn't, not at all. He had never wanted Brenda to feel the kind of pain brought on by a miscarriage.

He had seen it firsthand himself, when Janet miscarried her second child with Steve.

It had been Dylan who had found her lying on the bedroom floor after Maddie had run to his house, sobbing.

Steve had never forgiven himself for being away at a work conference that weekend, and had allowed his grief to overcome him until the Beverly Beat went under, taking the Sanders' marriage with it.

The first time.

"Connor, I know you've had a really hard time since you and Bren lost the twins, but trust Brandon when he says he knows her. If something's off with Bren, Bran would know. I would know and I'm telling you, there's something weird about my best friend."

Val.

It was Val, long legs and multicolored miniskirt, pursed magenta lips.

Next to her was Steve, arms crossed and tense.