A violent crack of thunder whipped Dexter back to his senses. He had crawled on the hospital bed beside Deb and, physically and mentally drained, had dozed off. But that crack of thunder brought Dexter back to the place he needed to be, although it was also the place he dreaded most—reality.

Gone forever was Saxon, Dr. Vogel's beast. Dexter had made sure of that. Even if he would never again be the "blood guy," the final blood shed at the mercy of his hands ensured that Saxon would never kill again. But Saxon's last kill, who lay lifeless next to Dexter, was the most devastating tragedy of them all.

Dexter remember all the times shared with Deb, from the time he taught her to shoot to the (multiple) times she had saved his life. He thought about the man she had so desired for him to become. But in the end he had failed her. He had failed The Code. And above all, he had failed himself.

Dexter again was startled by a soft knocking on the door, which was accompanied with a gentle "I'm so sorry for you loss sir, but we must evacuate the hospital immediately." The storm that had been talked about so much over the past week was finally here, and its arrival, on the day of Deb's death, made Dexter feel uneasy about his presence in this world.

"Thank you mam, I will only be a few moments longer," replied Dexter, which was met by a nod of approval from the head nurse.

Moments later Dexter found himself on the pier behind the hospital where he had left his escape from the world, his boat the Slice of Life. But he was not alone. Deb, wrapped in her hospital bedding, was in his arms.

As Dexter sped along the choppy waves deeper and deeper into the Atlantic, he began to think of what was coming next. Had he sealed his fate by presently being on the boat? No longer a slave to his Dark Passenger, Dexter wanted to enjoy life with Harrison and Hannah. What remained of what he loved most was en route to Argentina. But Dexter knew the curse that was upon his life. No matter how hard he tried, he always hurt the ones he loved most.

Dexter thought he heard Harry say, "Come join us, Dex. It'll be you, Deb, and I, just like old times." He even thought he could faintly hear Deb calling for him. But it was at this moment he felt his longing for Harrison and Hannah wash over him, just as the waves of blood had done not so long ago..

Caught up in his thoughts, Dexter had not realized that his initial heading had brought him too close to the eye of the storm. Before he knew it, he lost control of his boat, and the last thing he could remember was Deb's body being violently launched in the air. Dexter closed his eyes and let the darkness, the cold darkness, wash over him.

Every now and then Harrison thought of his father. Although Harrison was barely 4 when his father died, he did have memories. But these memories were beginning to fade as Harrison hurried to wash his hands. Tonight was pizza night, and he could smell the aroma wafting into his room.

But as he entered the kitchen, something wasn't right. The pizza box lay on the floor. Newspaper was scattered over the floor. "Harrison help me! Please someone help me!" Harrison raced outside to see his mother being put in handcuffs by a tall man with blond hair who wore a tattered jacket with the faded words "U.S. Marshal" on the back. As he sprinted the 50 feet from his front door to the road, he contemplated what he would do when he arrived at the car. Should he try to injure the Marshal? Should he stand in front of the car? Should he demand to see the Marshal's credentials?

It was at this very moment that that Harrison saw something zip through the corner of his eye and strike the Marshal in the neck. He stumbled for a few moments, then, apparently losing consciousness, fell and hit his head on the hood of the car. Then, out of nowhere, a man of middle-sized build with disheveled brown hair seemed to just appear out of the forest. "…Oh my….it can't be," gasped Harrison's mother. "Mom, who is that?" By the look on his mother's face Harrison knew that whoever this man was had not only saved his mother, but was someone that she had some sort of connection with. As the man slowly approached the both of them, Harrison's mother said, "Honey," and, after a long pause, "I want you to meet someone very special." She was crying so violently that Harrison could barely make out his mother's words. "I want you to meet…your father."