Underwater (a Bates Motel/Norman Bates fanfic)

Norman IX

A/N

Thank you all so much for 14.1K reads. <3 I never thought I'd get this far with this story. I love you. You're freaking gorgeous, all of you, for reading and voting and giving me your feedback. Anyways, on to the chapter.

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"Hey, Norman, have you seen my blouse, the blue one? I can't find it, and I have a visitor coming tonight." Mother walked in my room. I looked up from my Chemistry book, raising a brow.

"Who?"

Sadly, I know what she means by a visitor. Mom still gets more action than me and she's getting old. .-. Her 'little boy' can't do any of that stuff. He has to stay home and do homework, or her laundry, or any of the things she doesn't want to do.

"Don't worry about it, Norman. Have you seen my blouse?"

"It's probably with your vibrators, Norma." Okay, I swear to God, I didn't say that one.

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(2019 and still funny as fuck😂😂😂)
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Dylan walked in the room.

"Dylan, was that necessary?"

"Yes." He chuckled. "Anyways, Norman, come on, we're going out."

My eyes widened. "Wait, we are?"

"No, you're not. You have a test tomorrow, Norman." Mother intervened.

"Ugh, mom." I groaned. "It's in my sixth period. I have plenty of time during the day to study. Actually, know what, I'm going. I'm almost eighteen. You can't control me forever."

"Wow, a change of heart." Dylan blinked a few times.

I glared at my brother. "Maybe things change sometimes."

"Norman, you're not leaving, you have to help me find my blouse."

"Go fucking find it yourself!" I exclaimed. "I have shit to do, mother, you know, like live? I refuse to become some kind of psycho who doesn't see the sunlight."

My mother looked as if she were about to cry.

Good, I'm becoming a successful asshole. :D

"Who the hell are you, and what have you done with my son?" She stomped out with a sob that sounded fake, down the hall, and to her room, like a twelve year old who got her phone taken away. It was sort of amusing. I don't know what's come over me, but I like it. I turned to Dylan.

"Where are we going, exactly?"

"Norman, my brother, we are going to Narnia." Dylan smirked.

"You're an idiot." I rolled my eyes.

"Yes, yes I am. But everyone loves me. Anyways, don't question it, just come on." Dylan insisted it. "You need a life."

"Yeah, I'm thinking the same about you." I laughed as we headed out to his truck.

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Somehow, he convinced me that going to a club would be okay. Knowing I don't have an ID. That I'm underage. And I'm a lightweight. So there's a pretty big chance that if he gave me a couple of beers, I'd puke on the hottest girl there. Then I'd get an assbeating by my drunk brother.

So I was smart, choosing not to drink, when he asked me. "Hey, Norman, you want a beer?" Dylan asked, pulling out his wallet to pay the bartender, a sexy brunette with a tight shirt on, her name scrawled real small in cursive on her left breast. She was pretty hot, but at least in her late twenties. I don't even see Dylan going that far.

I shook my head. "Nah, um, just get me a Sprite or something. I might have one later."

Dylan rolled his eyes, turning to the bartender and whispering something to her. I figured he would. He's probably going to make her spike my Sprite. Not that I'd protest if she did. I could use a little fun, a little bit of letting go.

After a few minutes, he brought my 'sprite,' over. "You know, I thought you would have wanted a beer, after all the hell you've been going through."

I shrugged. "Eh. I learned to bear with things."

Dylan looked around on the table. "Damn it, do they not have straws?"

"What?" I raised a brow at him.

"Straws. I want one. I refuse to drink out of a glass here without one."

I didn't question him any further. "Just go ask for one."

"Uh, no, that bartender kind of scares me. She yanked my nipple when I paid her." Dylan's eyes widened. I couldn't help but laugh.

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(DEAD AS FUCK 4/16/19)
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"Thought you were into her."

He shook his head furiously, actually looking terrified. "No, no, Norman. She might look hot from far away, but uh, she doesn't smell so hot. She's definitely a cokehead."

"That's the part that stops you, not that she yanked your areola?" I choked on the word areola, and on my sprite.

"Don't ever say that word again." It looked like he was holding back a laugh, too. "God damnit, really, where are the straws?"

Mental facepalm.

"Forget the straw, drink your beer or I will."

"Oh, please, you're a lightweight." Dylan boasted.

"Don't test me, Dylan. Don't do it." I warned him.

He looked at my glass. "Well, you've drank half of it, so I'm gonna tell you this. Uh, Betty Bitchface over there spiked your drink."

"I'm not stupid, I knew that." I chuckled. "I saw you two whispering."

"So how much do you think you can drink, little brother?" Dylan smiled crookedly.

"Hand it over and you'll see."

Dylan happily handed over his glass, still foaming, but warming up. Beer's honestly gross, but I had to prove him wrong.

It was when I took the first sip that I heard my name.

It was when I took that first sip, that I passed out, the glass shattering on the ground next to me.