A/N: Spoilers for last ep S6 'So This is How the World Ends.' Don't read if you haven't seen it yet! This is my first Dexter fic. So I'm a bit nervous. I must say, for some reason the whole Deb/Dex thing doesn't bother me. I know I'm in the minority...though thinking about it, maybe the D/D fans are in the majority and people are just ashamed to admit it and we're just quiet so we won't get flamed. ;) Anyway, this popped into my head and I wanted to share. Enjoy.
Picture Perfect
She pictured finding him at the church.
She knew he was there.
She would go in and casually talk to him and wait for him to finish.
She would ask him if she could come over when he was through with his last sweep.
He would most likely make up an excuse as to why 'Tonight's not a good night.'
She would press him and tell him it was 'really important' that it 'wouldn't take long.'
He would say 'okay'.
She would silently watch him clean up his supplies and they would leave together, her following him in his car.
She pictured walking into his apartment feeling different as everything was going to change.
He would close the door behind her and offer her a beer. She would need many for Dutch courage.
She wouldn't be able to still her hands in anticipation, in fear; fear of rejection, fear of losing him forever. But she imagined her heart would burst if she didn't tell him soon.
She pictured taking his hand in hers.
She would be trembling.
He would look on with her in concern, taking her face in his free hand calming her the way he does. A tear would escape and he would brush it away with his thumb pulling her towards his chest.
She imagined the warmth from his body.
She imagined his heart beating steadily at her ear finding comfort in the steady rhythm of his life's source.
She pictured burying her face deeper into his shirt finding the strength to force the words out of her mouth, to let him know her feelings despite the consequences.
She imagined him hushing her sobs, soothing her with his presence.
And that is when she would justify her words. She would tell him she was in love with him.
He would pull back unsure of the words he heard.
He would stare at her in disbelief and shock.
He would be speechless.
He would process it like he does everything.
He would see the logicality of it.
He would understand her because he's the only one in the world that does, the only one that matters.
Of course this is only in her imagination.
Only in her picture perfect dreams.
Because she doesn't picture the eventual nightmare.
She doesn't picture walking up the steps to the church to see him with a knife in his hands raised over a person strapped to a table.
She doesn't imagine him plunging the knife down into that person's heart.
She doesn't process the image, the image that doesn't make any sense surrounding her whole life.
She doesn't imagine her breath catching in her throat waiting for the desperately needed oxygen to race to her brain.
She doesn't picture him standing there looking at her mirroring her wide eyed 'What the...' expression.
She doesn't imagine the heaves that assault her body.
She doesn't imagine the clanging of the blade on the concrete floor as he runs to catch her as she falls to her knees.
She doesn't imagine the sobs that come from her retching body as she fights against his hold on her as he clutches her close desperately attempting to hush her sobs.
She doesn't imagine she would stare at him in disbelief and shock, that she would be speechless.
She doesn't imagine she would process it like he does everything, that she would see the logicality of it.
She doesn't picture herself understanding because she can't. Because he's the only one in the world that matters and she is shattered.
She can not fathom the nightmare that is now her reality.
But she has to.
Because it's pictured so very clearly right before her eyes.
Please review. Let me know what you think.
