Life Goes On
"Long time no see, Dexter,"
The prisoner looks up and faces the young man he rescued, and doomed, with a blank stare. Jonah looks back at him, warm smile on his face while bouncing a baby on one of his hips.
"I could agree," Dexter replies, returning the smile. It has been months, years, since he's had a visitor. Debra's visits had diminished from three times a week to once a month after he had gotten caught. The news of her trusted sibling being the Bay Harbor Butcher is too much to take in.
Dexter has no ill feelings.
He wasn't expecting anyone to visit him today; today would be the last day he'd be alive. Starting at 12 o'clock midnight, he would be executed by the electric chair and be pronounced dead, Dexter Morgan no more. He knew this day would come, and he accepts it with stride. Harrison is safe, Debra, with some therapy down the line, might make it out unscathed. Batista and Masuka took it the hardest, but Dexter knows they'll be fine. Time will pass, and everything will fall back into place.
Life will always go on.
"I'm sorry for not visiting you sooner; I got caught up with, life." Jonah gestures to the baby girl in his lap, who's giggling and drooling on her bib. Her curious eyes stare at Dexter with curiosity. Dexter nods and waves his handcuffed hands at her.
"She's pretty. What's her name?"
"Rebecca, after…her aunt," Jonah's voice cracks at the last word.
"I see. What brings you here?"
"I just wanted to thank you before, you know."
"Just say it, Jonah."
"Your execution," he whispers, looking at Rebecca cautiously.
"You bring your infant to a prison, to meet a serial killer who murdered countless people, her grandfather-"
"-Don't call him that," Jonah hisses, "He doesn't deserve that title."
Dexter held his hands up.
"Alright. Has there been anything new with you, besides Rebecca?"
Their conversation picked up after that question: Jonah talked about his life in Nebraska, to his move to California, while Dexter talked about the events that lead to his arrest. They talked, even laughed, while the hours flew. When the guard warned three minutes, the light air grew dark once more.
"I still haven't thanked you enough for sparing me, but I'm still haunted by my demons," Jonah began.
"I still think about what I could've done different. If I had been the one to do him in before you came along, I would've saved Becca, Mom, my soul. Now I've come to terms of who I am now,"
"Who are you?"
"A monster," Jonah whispers into Dexter's ear. Before Dexter could reply, the guard yelled for time and Jonah departed. When his back was to Dexter, he turned and said,
"You didn't save me; you and that sack of shit that calls himself my father created me."
Jonah vanished outside Dexter's jail cell, leaving him to his final thoughts before his demise.
"Honey, did you get the baby wipes? We're running low," A feminine voice blared out into Jonah's earbuds.
Jonah's away from his phone; instead, he's staring carefully at a body that's been bound by food wrap, trying to get free.
"Yes, Baby. I'll be there in an hour. Traffic," the knife twisted in his fingertips. He's anticipating the kill. It's so close he could taste it.
"Alright, be safe. I love you, Jonah."
"Love you too, Shanice." The end button was hit and all humanity is gone.
"You've been a very naughty man, Mr. Dwight."
The man moans and howls through his bound lips. Jonah knew better than to un-gag him. He's too much of a sweet-talker.
"It's one thing to be a pimp. It's another to be a human trafficker of underage girls. Whoring out children? That's where I draw the line," His knife slices his victim's cheek.
The rush comes through Jonah, filling him with ecstasy. It's been so long since he's killed someone. His withdrawals are a bitch to handle.
"Be quick and precise, Jonah. You want your kills to mirror mine," Dexter's voice instructs.
Jonah nods, chuckling quietly before walking over to the radio and playing, 'Dancing Queen'. He poises his knife over the man's chest, says a morbid one-liner before plunging into his chest cavity. The carmine liquid flowing through the plastic wrap is enough to bring Jonah into orgasmic nirvana. He cleans up the mess, disposes of the body before driving away to get the baby wipes.
It was midnight, and he cranked his radio to life to escape the quiet drive.
"Hello, ladies and gentlemen of Florida. It's come to a close that Dexter Morgan, ex-blood splatter analyst and Bay Harbor Butcher, has been executed at precisely 12:04 AM. The Bay Harbor Butcher, is dead."
Jonah begins to laugh, laugh so hard he's in hysterics. He pulls over and continues his laughter, which morphs into crying. He cries over his lost soul, his ruined life, his broken dreams, and the death of a man that saved him too late. He cries until his eyes are swollen shut and his throat is hoarse. He cries until he feels his sins are cleansed, his demons are at bay, and he's back in control.
"Life will go on. It always does," Jonah whispers to himself. He looks to Dexter, who sits in the passenger seat. He looks at Jonah and nods his head in agreement.
Jonah brings his car back to life and continues to drive down the road.
~Fin~