And if he can hold onto that, gently, he really could be the man he wants to be. We act like women are soft and men are hard and that's the end of the story, but that's effects and not causes. The fact is that everything he needs to know about being a man, the world beat into him. And everything he needs to know about being a woman, he's got right here. He just needs to hold it right.
So he puts his arms around her waist and he sights down the barrel with her, and he calls her mom and it connects. For a second, they are the same animal; they are part of the same machine. Those who favor fire. And if she could only feel like this -- if either of them could only feel like this -- without Norman or Ethan, or Remo or anybody else around, they would be superheroes.
Dylan: "Son of a bitch."
Norma: "You called me Mom. You haven't done that in like, I don't know how long."
Dylan: "You've got a loaded gun in your hand, Norma."
She falls into his arms, then, weeping: Adrenaline gone, loud noise gone. The fear back.
Dylan: "I know. But Romero's the man in this town, right? Like, if the bravest thing you can do is the hardest thing... well, in your case that's trusting him. Correct?"
Dylan, verbatim: "I know that might be hard for you, but that's what you're gonna have to do."
When she runs out of bullets, he helps her reload. Watch it ripple.
Maggie Summers appears out of the drizzle like some horrible drug mule ghost, scaring the crap out of Norma.
Maggie: "My family used to own this place."
Norma: "Nice family you got."
Maggie: "Can I just say something? If you have that money, you need to give it to the guy. Whatever you're calling him. I worked with him and Keith, and he will absolutely kill the shit out of you."
Norma: "Thanks for stopping by the motherfucking Bates Motel."
UP THE HILL
Norman: "Why Bradley, what on earth are you..."
Bradley: "Hi. Is Dylan here?"
Norman: "You're so vulgar!"
Bradley: "No, I'm honest. You should don't know what that looks like."
Norman: "I'll got get him."
I wrote a story that I was your father. Burning from the inside.
After Dylan manages to get Norman to go away -- tenderly, not rudely -- he gives her the box of Jerry's crap from his office and Norman listens behind a door as they awkwardly teen-flirt. Dylan is 22, Bradley is 17 or maybe 18. Which, okay bad Dylan, but Norman and Norma kind of blow that one out the water. And the very Motherness of Norman at this time makes it difficult to even pay attention.