DPM-Hi!! This is my first Dexter fic! Yay me! Okay, this happens right after Rita dumps Dexter (2nd time during last episode). I own nothing

An empty pack of cigarettes, smoldering ashes in an ashtray, and a discarded nicotine patch laid on Rita's nightstand.

"Nicorette be damned," she thought, staring at the items.

Rita had just found out that her junkie boyfriend, Dexter, she loved so dearly had been sleeping around with his sponsor (which would explain why he was so distant lately), she had broken up with him about three hours ago, she had thrown up every single morning that week, and now she had to figure out what to tell Cody and Astor the next morning. It was safe to say that it had been and still is a bad week.
"Fuck!" she screamed into a pillow, then punching it harshly.

It wasn't a good idea because the second she did, she found herself running toward her toilet, nearly tripping over her green nightgown. What little dinner she had plus some yellowy mucus found its way into the toilet. Rita groaned as she passed out,bumping her head on the linoleum floor.

SLAM!

Rita awoke with a start. She lifted herself off of the white floor. The sick feeling had left her, Thank God, but that wasn't what she was worried about right now. She was more worried about the fact that she was not in her bathroom, but in a completely white room with a person in a completely whit latex suit whose back was turned to her, was slamming an object onto something, or someone. She watched in horror as blood splattered onto the wall.

"Morgan!" came a yell from behind that scared the shit out of both of them.

An old black man and an older looking white woman were at the door .(where did that door come from)

"Jesus, Doakes" said the woman,"Give us all a fucking a heart attack why don't ya"

"That's Lieutenant Doakes" said the man.

Rita was completely preplexed by what was happening and didn't bother to listen to the conversation. She looked at the first person but couldn't really get a good look at them because their head was covered by the latex and their face was hidden by a large pair of goggles. The bald black man, Doakes, looked like he was once a muscular man but hadn't worked out much lately. The woman looked like if Deborah had aged about fifty years. Smile lines, worry lines, too many lines and wrinkles to count.
Rita watched Doakes yell at "Morgan" for a few minutes before she had an epiphany.

"Why haven't they noticed me?"

Rita walked directly in front of the latex covered person and waved her hand in front of the person's face.

"You can't see me?" she asked, "I must be dreaming...if I go along with it it will probably end soon"

She looked at the person again and saw that this person had stray curly locks latching onto their face and through the goggles that this person had soft brown eyes that had a slight emptiness to them. They seemed so familiar.

"Dexter?"

As if on cue the person turned around and placed down the lamp that aided in the destruction of the plastic head on the table. They walked around the table and grabbed a sheet of the paper that now had fake blood on it.

"Happy?" came a feminine reply.

The person took off the mask and the latex hood off. It was a young woman beating the shit out of a plastic head. Go figure. She had long, curly, brownish blonde hair that came down about to the middle of her back. She had high cheekbones. She had big soft brown eyes (we know this) and she had a light touch of make up. Her body wasn't muscular but it was at least tone. The thing that stood out most was that she had a scar on her right cheekbone.

"Aunt Debbie" said the woman startling yet again the already shaken up Rita, "did you get the doughnuts?"

"Sure thing, Abby" said the older woman as she produced a large box of the yummy rings.

"And, of course Lieutenant Asshole, I got your jellyfilled kind, so don't get your panties in a bunch."

Doakes grumbled and took a jelly filled doughnut out of the box and walked off.

"Who just said 'Doakes grumbled and took a jellyfilled doughnut out of the box and walked off?'" asked Rita.

I'm your dark passenger now just roll with it.

"No, I will not 'roll with it' until you tell me what the fuck is going on"

You're trying my patience.
"Does it look like I give a shit?"

OKAY YOU LITTLE POTTY-MOUTHED BITCH! THIS IS A FUCKING DREAM AND YOU WONT LEAVE THE DREAM UNTIL I SEE FIT. I AM YOUR DARK PASSENGER! I AM THE VOICE INSIDE YOUR HEAD TELLING YOU WHAT TO DO! AS SOON AS YOU FIGURE OUT THE CONSEQUENCES OF YOUR ACTIONS, THEN YOU CAN FUCKING GO BACK TO YOUR SHITTY LIFE AS A CRACK WHORE! BUT UNTIL THEN YOU'LL HAVE TO BEAR WITH ME! YOU GOT IT?
"Yes..." said Rita, almost inaudible.
Good.

DPM- Yes, I am Rita's Dark Passenger. Muahaha! Now because of her little outburst, your asses is gonna wait a week before I post up the next chapter. Don't blame me. Blame Rita. For some reason I guess she was too weirded out by everything she didn't hear me at first (shrugs) Oh Well.