"Oh God,"
The words, although barely a whisper from Dexter, seem to echo through the entire church. He sees the realization forming in her eyes and he wonders what she must be thinking, seeing him here in this way, dressed in a butcher's apron and holding a sword that is buried deep into a serial killer's chest.
He watches her for what seems like an eternity but in actuality is probably barely more than two seconds, but in that time there is nothing, it seems that the world has been paused and for Dexter it has momentarily. All is calm.
Then the time snaps back into place.
Deb runs.
Before he registers what he's doing he's after her, abandoning the sword, abandoning his kill, because right now it doesn't seem to matter for once.
"Deb!" he calls out, and he hears the church door's thud shut.
His mind is a whirlwind. He can't think clearly. Debra, the only person in this world who loves him, has seen the thing that the world truly fears. His persona, this façade he's built up his whole life seems to have crumbled because Deb knows. She knows.
Oh God, he thinks again.
It doesn't make sense, he thinks logically as he throws open the doors to the night, she's only one person. But that doesn't change anything, he still feels raw and exposed.
He hears a car start and curses the fact that Debra has kept up with her extreme running exercises.
"Deb!" he shouts, hoping that she'll hear him, hoping that she'll listen and come back.
But in the back of his mind he knows that's not going to happen and is not surprised when he sees her car speed away down the dirt road, he can't tell but it seems like her form is hunched over and shaking and Dexter wonders briefly if she's crying, as the car zips past him and disappears down the road.
"Deb," he whispers but there's no one there to hear him. He thought he felt alone when he was afloat at sea, when he killed his own brother Brian but here, as he stands in the middle of a dirt road outside an old church, covered in blood, he feels more alone than ever.