Back to you

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Brandon and Dylan took off the same evening. The ice had deflated Brandon's black lip and Isabel had placed it on it, one of those traditional ointments. Miraculous witches that had relieved his pain.
"Do you know you're cute with that bruise on your face?" Dylan said to him laughing.
"Thank you," B replied.
"Yes, you look like a bad boy, a street boy. It makes you cool."
"I'll take advantage of it to pick up in a few bars in the next few days."
Dylan laughed. Finally. He was going up from the terrible black crack into which he had fallen.
They had no chance to call home. They couldn't. They just hoped it was all right. May the places, affections, balances be restored.
They knew it wouldn't end like this. That they owed explanations, to Kelly, to Brenda. To all.
The Fbi had given very precise instructions before they left. The operation was covered. Risky. Bad.
On that feverish night the phone calls had followed and tangled.
When they sat in their seats on the plane, Christine was already there waiting for them. Christine and Jack. A distant memory of Brandon.
Always an elegant and powerful woman.
Dylan," she replied, "we haven't seen each other in a while"
"True."
SHe sat behind them and put his face on their heads.
"Don't turn around," she said, "When you get off this plane, go to the baggage claim, you will find a brown leather bag. You'll recognize her because there is attached a small keychain with the surf and all your money inside."
"Did you take Perreira?" Dylan hurried to ask.
"Yeah," Christine just smiled, "We've been holding him for years. I couldn't believe it when I saw you in that house with Brenda."
"What about Sammy's kidnapping?"
"That was an unforeseen event that only accelerated the operation," she replied, "you only gave us one more chance. Of course we had to arrange everything in one night," she sighed enough.
"Where is he now?" Brandon asked.
"Curiosity? Or are you doing your job?" Christine replied.
Brandon just smiled.
"It's confidential information. Tomorrow you will not read any news of Sammy's abduction or Perreira's arrest, or the dismantling of his organization. Right Brandon Walsh?"
Dylan looked at Brandon sure of the answer of which there was no need.
"What about the police?"
"No one will ask you questions. We talked to Woods. We gave him information about a lot of traffic that is about to pass through his part."
The plane had closed the gates and was ready to take off.
"Sorry," Christine said, "I have to go to the toilet. By the way: you're cute with that bruise Walsh."
Dylan looked at the friend I told you.
They both knew she would never come back so Dylan stuck his hand into the crack between the seats and felt the touch of her and that gesture contained any kind of thanks you could imagine. When he needed Christine she was there.
She got up and elegantly went all over the corridor of the plane. She disappeared like this.
When they landed Dylan found the bag, the money. No one waiting for them at the airport. No one knew anything. No police. No questions. A black and reassuring silence.
They arrived at Kelly's house, which was already very late. Someone in that house was waiting for them. The lights were on. As soon as they knocked, it was Brenda who opened the door. SHe threw her arms around Dylan's neck. Until that moment he had never realized that he might not come back and he touched her porcelain skin. Finally.
Brenda stared at her brother.
"What did you do to your face?" SHe tried to stretch out her hand to touch the wound.
"Let it go," B replied with half a smile and looking away.
"But do you know you're fine with that bruise? It makes your face hard," Brenda said. Dylan turned to look at Brandon raising his eyebrow. Eh.
"Sammy?" Dylan asked.
"It's upstairs with Kelly"
"Are you alone?" Dylan asked, surprised that he didn't find the whole gang camped in the house.
"Steve left a couple of hours ago," Brenda smiled, "is waiting for a call from you, but not tonight," she said.
"Ah no?"
"No. He's busy tonight."
It was only Dylan who climbed up. He opened the door wide open and saw Kelly lying next to her son. They were both sleeping.
The little one looked serene. It was an extension of the mother's body. They fit in perfectly.
Brandon fell one step back and walked away almost immediately. Again it wasn't his world.
"Do you stay here tonight?" Brenda asked Dylan.
"Yes," he replied.
Brenda didn't betray any feelings. Those days had crushed her too. SHe included. SHe understood. She Blessed. And it was easier for her to make her decisions.
The three prepared something to eat. Those feverish 48 hours had prevented them from eating, drinking or even just thinking. They laughed several times. Brenda didn't want to know the details. SHe refused them. SHe didn't want to know anything else for that night.
Brandon understood that it was time to leave, that his sister and Dylan needed to talk a little bit. Of their future. Things to do. He took his jacket and the car keys.
He kissed his sister on the forehead and whispered to her "take care".
He greeted Dylan with a smile and he was about to resume the bruise speech.
Brandon pointed his finger at "don't say it."
While he was already almost at the door he heard someone hugging him from behind, he turned around. It was Kelly. A ghost of puffy eyes and a mixture of tears, joy and worry.
"You're back..." she whispered to him with a thread of voice.

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