Okay, so I've been watching Dexter for a while now, but for some reason, I could never sit down and write something for it. That was until I saw this season's finale. *shakes head* There are spoilers ahead for This Is The Way The World Ends. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: Not mine!
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Dexter shoved the knife deep into the man's chest, and Debra's mouth fell open.
He looked up, and when he saw his sister standing there in shock, all he could utter was, "Oh, God."
Dexter was a killer… Suddenly so much made sense. His constant, unexplained disappearances, his unusual fascination with crime scenes, even his fucking boat.
He looked frantic as he looked from her to the body in front of him, then back to her. "Deb, I can explain this…"
Debra held a hand up, closing her eyes briefly as she tried to reconcile what she was seeing with the man she was in love with, the man she had grown up with. The man she'd called brother, the one she wanted to call her lover.
"Deb…"
She opened her eyes again, and Dexter was standing in front of her. She met his eyes as he placed his hands on her shoulders and gently squeezed. "Dex, what the fuck is this?" she whispered, though she didn't know why. She had seen with her own eyes what he'd just done.
"You know what it is," he whispered, resting his forehead against hers and cradling her face in his rough hands. "You know what I am."
She reached up and rested her hands against the back of his neck. Then she pulled her head away and rested it on his chest. What the fuck was she going to do? Could she really arrest the man she loved and send him to jail for the rest of his life. "Dex…"
He suddenly tensed, then collapsed into her open arms.
"Dexter!" She caught him, and they sank to the filthy floor of the abandoned church. "Dexter, what is it?"
His eyes were wide and pain-filled, and a frothy blood leaked from the corner of his mouth. "Deb…"
She looked up, and Travis was standing over them. There was a hole in his chest, and in his hand was a bloody knife. She tried to reach for her gun, but it was gone. "No!"
Dexter's body jerked, then went slack in her arms. She could only watch in horror as Travis brought the knife down, a murderous glean in his eye.
"No!"
Suddenly Debra shot upright, covered in sweat and trembling violently. For a second, she couldn't remember where she was. Then it hit her. She was alone in her bedroom. The clock by her bed said it was after midnight. Breathing hard, she grabbed her phone and dialed Dexter's number.
After the third ring, she heard Dexter's groggy voice in her ear. "Deb? You okay?"
Letting out a deep sigh, Debra pushed her hand through her damp hair. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. I just… I needed to hear your voice," she concluded lamely.
"Okay… Do you need me to come over there?"
She shook her head. "No, no. Just… go back to sleep. I'll be fine."
"Are you sure?"
"Positive," she promised, her tremors slowly subsiding.
"Okay… Good night."
"Night, Dex." She closed her phone and returned it to the stand by her bed. It had all been a terrible fucking nightmare. Dexter was fine, and she would see him in the morning.
She collapsed back against her pillows and burrowed under her sheets. Dexter wasn't dead, and he wasn't a serial killer. She almost laughed at herself. Of course Dexter wasn't a killer. He was a good man, a good father. He wouldn't throw all that away on a piece of shit like Travis Marshall.
Making herself comfortable, she tucked her head under her arm and looked out her bedroom window.
On the other side of the room, a shadow moved across the wall, and a man smiled.
She never saw him.
The End.
A/N: Yeah... I'm pretty messed up. Blame Dexter! LMAO. Thank you for reading. I'd love to know what everyone thought of my first Dexter piece!
