Dexter and Deb continued their work at the station, keeping it nothing less than professional. She needed Dexter, in every possible way. She needed his presence. She needed to feel safe, and the only way she could was around him. Dexter was all she had. Nobody has seen her lowest points but him, and nobody knows what she hides behind her smiles and swears, but him. He knows every depth of her, and she still can't comprehend why he would still be her brother knowing how broken and needy she is. The surface of her knows that it's all his fault. But deep down, she believes that it's her life to fuck up. It's her fault that she is where she is.

Dexter was going to let Deb and Miami Metro take Saxon once he had him tied down. He knew that's what Deb would have wanted. And he wanted her to close the number 1 case at the station. No one better than Deb could do it.

Saxon stepped into his house, Dexter following just minutes behind him. He walked to his bedroom down the hall, as Dexter hid behind the corner of his kitchen, ready to inject the M99 into his neck. Saxon stepped down his hallway, turned the corner and met Dexter's needle.

He awoke, wrists and ankles tied to a chair.
"Deb. He's ready. The M99 will make him forget I was even here. He's all yours, detective."
"Okay Dex, I'm on my way. Get out of there."
Deb headed to the abandoned building Saxon was tied down in.

She opened the door, ready to find him. The chair was empty, and she turned to her right. Saxon was no more than a foot away from her. He stabbed her side with his knife, letting her collapse on the floor as he flead the scene.
"This is Detective Debra Morgan, I've been stabbed, please send help. 411 teal street." She forced those words out of her, wincing in pain as she laid on the cold, concrete floor.

Dexter got the news as fast as Miami Metro did.
He met her at the hospital, fearing more than he ever has in his life. Deb was stitched up and responding, arguing with Dexter telling him it wasn't his fault.
"Deb. I'm going to get him tonight. I can't believe this happened. It's all my fault. I'm so sorry." He said.
"Dex are you fucking kidding me?" She slurred from the meds. "It's not your fault, Saxons a smart motherfucker. He did all his work in those chairs. He knew how to get out."
"Deb- "
"Just go find the fucker. I want him dead. I want you to kill him." She smiled.
Dexter's eyes lit up.
"Okay. I love you. Rest up. I'll be back."
"I love you too, idiot."
He smiled and shut the door behind him.

Dexter had no idea where Saxon could be. He didn't know where to start. The force would eventually get a tip, but Dexter couldn't wait. He drove loops and loops around Miami, searching for any sign of him.

He spotted Saxons truck leaving the gas station. He followed his truck, realizing it was headed for the hospital Deb was at. Dexter tried running him off the road, and swerving into him with his car, but Saxon was too fast.
Saxon peeled into the parking lot of the hospital and stopped his truck at the entrance. He ran in, Dexter trailing behind him. He found Deb's room, and slammed the door behind him. In that split second, Dexter saw Deb's face. Her eyes filled with fear, she looked absolutely terrified. Dexter reached her room less than 5 seconds after Saxon and opened the door. There was Deb, knife in her chest, sitting in her own blood. Dexter pulled the knife out, and put his face to her ear, "Deb..?"
He knew she wouldn't answer, and he knew that his sister was dead because of him. He cried over her body and spoke softly,
"I'm sorry, Deb. I'm sorry I didn't protect you. I never wanted this to happen. I would have done anything to make you happy. I love you. I love you. I love you."
Deb felt the way she did from the day she found out who Dexter really was until the day she died. As if a knife ripped through her heart, shredding and breaking every part of it. He broke her heart, and he would never forgive himself.

A cool breeze went through the air from the open window Saxon fled from. Dexter wished he would have stayed to kill him too.

Miami Metro came running in, and as soon as they saw Deb, the room went silent.
Batista, Quinn and Dexter dropped on their knees, hands over their face at the sight of their dead number 1 detective, and best friend, Debra Morgan. They kneeled, crying and praying.

•••

It had only been days since Deb's death, and Dexter hadn't been home once. Jamie took care of Harrison for 3 days straight.
Dexter walked into his apartment for the first time in 3 days, eyes bloodshot, face pale and silent.
"Dexter. You need to stay here for a while. I don't care what you're doing but you need to be here. Harrison's starting to fall asleep. You can still say goodnight. I love you, and I'm here for you." She grabbed his shoulder and looked into his grey eyes, filled with sorrow and regret.
"Thank you for everything Jamie. Love you too."
She gave him a hug and walked out.

Dexter walked towards Harrison's room and knelt over his bed, pushing back his light blonde hair.
"Hey buddy."
Harrison's eyes were heavy, opening and closing, trying to stay awake to see his father.
"Hi Daddy, I missed you."
Harrison said.
Dexter grabbed his tiny hand, holding it in one fist and to his mouth, kissing him over and over.
"Harrison. Daddy loves you. You have my whole heart. You always did. I want you to remember everyday that Daddy loves you. I want you to be a good boy. I love you." His voice shaking, tears slowly coming down his cheeks.
"I love you dad-"
Harrison didn't finish his before falling asleep. Dexter cried over him and hugged him tight.

The walls were closing in on him. He sat with his back against his living room wall. A half empty bottle of Jack in his hand, he swigged it back, shaky and disoriented. His eyes echoed across the room, seeing pictures of him, Harrison and Deb. He flashed back to the day Harrison was born, to Deb talking about the monsters. "You made me feel so fuckin' safe." That sentence from Deb screamed over and over in his ears. The only monster he had to protect her from was himself. And he knew that.

Dexter suddenly put his face into his arm, supporting himself with his knees. He cried. He picked up his phone and dialed 911.
"Id like to report a suicide. Apartment 10b at Bay Harbor Club condos. Get here fast."
He hung up.
He took one last swig, slamming the bottle next to him, shattering it on the floor. He exhaled, breath reeking of alcohol, and grabbed the knife next to him. The one he should have killed Saxon with. He closed his eyes, clenched the knife fist over fist, and stabbed it directly into his heart, exactly where Deb was stabbed. He felt the hot rush of his blood draining onto his body as he took one last breath. He sat there, eyes closed and head tilted, with tears drying on his cheeks in a pool of his own blood with a smashed bottle of Jack and a picture of him, Harrison and Deb beside him.

Miami Metro showed up to find their very own blood spatter expert, Dexter Morgan with a knife in his chest. They sobbed.

Miami Metro was never the same.
Batista moved to California and opened his own restaurant. Quinn went home to New York in a downward spiral of alcohol and drugs. Jamie got legal custody of Harrison, and they lived together in Ft. Lauderdale.

The memorial for Debra and Dexter Morgan still sits outside Miami Metro Police Department.