A/N: So, here we go, Dexter. Its honestly one of the best shows I've ever seen. Despite a lot of fan disappointment with Season 8, I liked the way it was handled. This is mainly b/c of the emphasis of Dex/Deb's relationship for Seasons 6-8, and I was satisfied with how they did it even though it wasn't completely how I wanted it (romance-wise anyway). Thus, here we are. I'm starting this story from Season 7. This is my version of Dex/Deb's developing relationship (plus some changes to the plot, including another major enemy). Hope you all enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Dexter. This is a work of fan fiction.

The Constant

Chapter 1

You Shouldn't Be Here

"Oh God."

Time itself seemed to slow down. Dexter Morgan stood in the light of the church like a deer in headlights, well, if that deer was clenching a large knife and wearing an apron. His breathe hitched and suddenly the sweat on his forehead became cold.

"N-no….no...no! Why? Why is she here?!" Dexter's thoughts screamed inside of him, his face representing the fear and confusion that bubbles within.

Debra Morgan looked no different, but the fear was more than evident on her judging by the amount her body shook. Dexter, her foster brother, her constant, her "good place", is standing there with a knife in hand and a guilty expression after stabbing a person, a person mind you that is strapped to a table with…..is that plastic wrap?

Debra started to take a step back, but with that movement did she suddenly remember who she was. Quickly unholstering her firearm, she hastily stepped towards her brother, each step becoming more and more heavy as she pointed her pistol at him.

"Don't move!" Debra's voice almost broke, but her strong grip on the gun helped her keep her resolve.

Dexter's heart faltered more and more the closer she got. The last thing he wanted was to tussle with his sister, and the very thought of even hurting her ached his heart. Dropping the knife and gloves, Dexter raised both of his hands in the air. This just couldn't be happening.

Dexter closed his eyes tensely as if he were in pain. "Deb, please, I can-"

"Dex...Dexter what the fuck!? What're you doing? And...who's on the table?" Debra already felt out of breathe just with this.

Dexter slowly glanced at the body. "It's Travis Marshall Deb…."

Debra only lowered her gun an inch before pointing its barrel right back at Dexter. "Why?...How Dex? How the FUCK did this happen?!"

Dexter looks back to her, his eyes frantically drowning in hers. Everything said, every move made, it was all so critical in this moment. This wasn't like trying to trick someone to close in for a kill. This was Debra, his foster sister, his constant, the one person he never wanted to find out about his 'dark passenger'. He had to be absolutely careful here for her, no, for both of their sakes.

Dexter smashed his hands against his forehead in a panic, his breathing becoming erratic as he shook his head in agony.

"Oh God...oh God...no no no…what have I..."

"Dex...h-hey Dex, what happened?" Seeing this, Debra's voice softened, almost like a whisper.

Dexter inwardly smiled. Perfect. Yet, this definitely wasn't enough to diffuse the situation. But first….

"Deb please...the gun, I can't…."

Debra seemed hesitant at first, but soon her pistol found its way back into the holster. Dexter nodded his head and started to slowly move towards her.

"He came at me Deb, I had no choice. I didn't want to but, he just wouldn't listen to reason. There was nothing else I could do. I just came here looking for anything that might lead us to him, and he got the jump on me. There was nothing...nothing else I could do."

"Jesus Dex…" Debra finally let out the breath she was holding, but for every step Dexter took towards her, she moved back in response. Those steps seemed even heavier than when she had her gun out at him.

"This has to be true, it's Dex for fuck's sake! My brother, the man that I love….Argh, fuck me..."

Dexter could see Debra stuck within her own thoughts. In fear of it going south, he stopped his advance towards her and slowly sat down on the nearest bench.

"I know Deb, it's unexpected, but you know as much as I do that he needed to be put down regardless. It was him or me."

Debra stopped her thoughts and glanced up at him. "And the plastic wrap? What the fuck is that about? And the knives-"

"They were all his Deb, I just...i'm the blood guy remember? I know how evidence can be left easily, so-"

"So you just strap him to a table and stab him?! Dexter you should've just called the cops! You should've….you should've called me…" Debra started to sink down on the floor next to a bench, her eyes watering. This was so new to her. How could all of this be happening?

Dexter just looked at her again and shook his head solemnly. Even though Debra wasn't arresting, or even worse killing, him at the moment, Dexter could never take seeing her distraught. His heart twisted and turned, which to him was almost amusing considering he didn't have much of one. The lies he constantly told didn't help, but, this was necessary for both of their survival.

"It was just so quick," Dexter rubbed some of the sweat off his forehead and turned back towards the body, "It was all that I could do at the time. I'm not exactly use to killing someone".

As Dexter took to looking back to the body of Travis, Debra started to take out her phone, but she only got to one button before Dexter turned back towards her with urgent eyes.

"What're you doing?! You can't call the cops!"

Debra jumped from his rise in volume and stood up quickly. Lucky for Dexter she didn't pull out her gun again, but the fear on her face wasn't enlightening to him. She clenched her phone even tighter.

"But Dex, you just killed someone, we have to-"

"How does this look to you Deb?"

Tears started to roll down her cheeks, and her body shook even more. "Fucking weird Dex, this looks fucking crazy!"

Dexter slowly stood up as well, and when she started to back up again, he held his hands out peacefully.

"Then imagine how anyone else would feel. This will just be bad press for both of us Deb, or even worse." He started to move slowly towards her.

Debra would've noticed initially, but her thoughts were all over the place again.

"Fuck me, he's right. But that still doesn't explain why he set up like this. My brother, I can't let him go to prison, or worse. Fuck...fuck! What should I-"

Her thoughts were stopped once again as Dexter slowly placed his hand onto hers, his hand also covering the phone. They both held in a breath, Debra because of the proximity, and Dexter, well, mainly because he was expecting a swift punch or scream of panic.

Yet, Debra just stared at him with glossy eyes. Dexter couldn't tell if she was immobilized by fear or not, but, he locked his eyes with hers regardless. Debra searched his for anything and everything. Her face, which was once in fear, was now relaxing under his touch. But her eyes still held the confusion, and it almost seemed like something else was confusing her.

Before he could inquire, Debra sighed heavily and took her hand away from his, proceeding to put her phone back into her pocket. "Okay, no one else...are you alright Dex?"

Dexter just exhaled through his nose and took a seat down on a bench once again.

"Physically? Yes. Emotionally?..."

"I'm right there with you bro...so, what happens now?" Debra sat back down on the ground, leaning against the benches. She wiped away some of the tears and sniffled a bit.

Honestly, this was the most tiresome night Dexter has had since Rita's death. It feels like he's still waiting to wake up from this nightmare, but with the tension between them calming, maybe there was still hope to resolve this.

"Well, i'll just have to cover this up. This night could just never have happened. I'll take the body out and-"

"No! Fuck Dex, we can't do that! It's already bad enough that you….just no, no moving the body."

Dexter blinked. Did she say we?

"Look, Deb-"

"No Dexter. We're not moving the fucking body."

Debra lost all confusion in her eyes and stared him down like the lieutenant she was, but now Dexter was the one that looked at a most he could do was just sigh.

"Okay, fine. But, anything that happens here, i'm doing it myself. There's no reason for you to get involved." Dexter was firm with these words, hoping to reach her.

But Debra just looked at him with more strictness. "Fuck you. I'm already involved in this, and i'm not letting you deal with this alone. But we have to do this right."

Dexter looked towards the body once again, his eyes searching for some answer. Fine, if Debra wanted to be involved somehow, he'd have to find an alternative that requires her to do less. Then it hit him, and he tried not to look too proud as his eyes landed back onto Debra.

"We'll burn all of this then."

"W-What?.." Debra looked away from him, losing some of her courage to level with him.

"We make this look like a suicide. We can even have his sword stabbed through him. Travis has seen his eclipse, so, this will be the last thing he could give to his God."

Debra slowly looked back at him, her thoughts collecting again. "Yeah, I guess…"

"It can work, with the fire, someone will see it and notify the police. They'll find him here, and naturally there won't be anything connecting us."

He didn't want to be arrested or killed by his sister, but most importantly, he wanted to keep her safe. His words may be lies, but his eyes told the truth. They told how much he needed for her to agree with this.

"It'll be just another crazy act by the Doomsday Killer Deb."

Debra just stared at him. Crazy acts are strapping people to tables and stabbing them with no mercy, and that wasn't even done by the serial killer. But, this was her brother, and he may have been right.

"Okay Dex, it's a plan." She sighs while pushing some hair away from her face. "But, you stay here. I'll get the gasoline we'll need to-"

"What? No Deb, you don't have to do that."

"Do you want me to help you or not?"

That just seemed like a trick question to him, but Dexter couldn't help it.

"Well, if you're asking..."

"Fuck you. And stay here until I come back shithead. I mean it Dexter."

"I know what I'm doing Deb."

"Bullshit."

Debra's gaze seemed to linger on him more as she slowly stood up. Dexter eventually looked away from her, almost seeming to pout, but she just kept looking at him. When his eyes connected back with hers, they stayed like that for a good while until Debra eventually broke off and walked away, leaving Dexter to himself.

Finally in isolation, Dexter let out a breath he felt like he was holding this entire time. His heart raced and the stress of the situation all hit him like a knife in the chest. He felt a small amount of envy for Travis, wishing he was on that table instead. This just couldn't be happening.

He just sighed heavily, leaning the back of his head onto the bench and staring absentmindedly at the body of Travis Marshall.

"Jesus Debra…."

"What have you done Dexter?"

Knowing that voice all too well, Dexter slowly looks over to his left to see a very disappointed Harry Morgan staring him down. For a ghost of Dexter's mind, he sure always showed up when he needed someone to talk to. Yet, this conversation was one Dexter has been preventing for a long time, so Dexter just shook his head and turned away from him.

"I was just doing what YOU taught me to do. She walked in on me taking care of the trash."

Harry sighed. "You have no one to blame but yourself Dex. Now your sister is involved in your darkness, and you're lucky she cares enough to not have arrested you or even worse."

But Dexter wasn't paying attention. "I should've just killed him when I had the chance, before-"

"Dexter! There is no turning back from this, you can only move forward without making this worse son. Do it for Deb."

This made Dexter turn his somber eyes back onto his father. For a ghost he sure was loud, but he was also right. This may have been the first thing he never wanted to happen, but now he has to deal with it before it gets worse. This isn't for himself, this is completely for Debra now. He has to make sure to keep her further from the truth no matter what.

He launches up from his seat in haste towards Travis's body. In a swift motion he rips away the plastic wrap all over the body. His sense of urgency was so present that he didn't notice the slide of blood drop down along with everything else.

Dexter places his gloves back on and just stares at Travis's body. As much as he wants to push this all on Travis, this is his own fault. He shakes his head to push away the guilty thoughts and picks up Travis's ancient sword.

"Don't worry Deb, I will fix all of this."

With precision and resolve, Dexter stabs the sword into Travis's body. He squeezed the handle tight, his frustration still lingering after stabbing Travis. He wants this to go away, no, he NEEDS this to go away for Debra. Dexter can't even stand the thought of his sister not even being able to look at him anymore.

If he could sincerely pray, he could only do it to hope that this will all be over soon enough.

Debra stood at the gas station, filling up the last gas container that is needed for this operation...or crime or….she really didn't know what all this was. To her, it was just all wrong. She couldn't even fill up the gas without looking suspicious and guilty.

"C'mon Debra, get a fucking grip! It's not like I'M the one who killed Travis! It was….it was Dexter, my brother, the lab geek who I didn't even think could remotely kill…."

She sighed as she stopped the gas before it could overflow from the container. If she wanted to stop looking so weird out here, she'd probably have to stop thinking so much. But of course, she still had plenty to say. Once she loaded the gas into the car and headed back towards the church, she let her thoughts out furiously since no one could hear.

"Fuck! Shit! Shit Fuck! Fuck me in one ear and out the other! God Dex how could this happen, you….you fucker! This just ruins everything! Argh, fuck!"

Panting hard after this outburst, Debra just took to squeezing the steering wheel even tighter. No, maybe this wasn't even what she wanted to say either. She had already prepped herself for a difficult conversation with her brother. Err, her 'brother'. With how she feels, she starts to think if calling him that is off the table now. But, could she even say it? Hell, could she even think it anymore?

"I...I'm in love with you, you idiot...Dex….ah fuck me…"

If she could just survive this, maybe things could be better. But, that image of Dexter standing over the body of Travis, having such a satisfied look on his face after plunging the knife into his chest scared her. It burned within Debra's mind and wouldn't dissolve. She was so distraught that she couldn't tell if he was lying or not, but, she is determined to figure it out regardless.

Once she got back, Debra retreated back into her awkward phase when she saw the sword already sticking out of Travis. Dexter had to hand it to her, she really must have cared for him since he was was still alive. After setting everything up, which almost seemed like for days, Dexter lit the match and gave one last look to the church.

"This...this will all go away."

Dexter drops the match and the trail of fire begins its journey to consume the church. The blaze itself was already intense, and Debra took a few steps back. Noticing this, Dexter took this opportunity to put his convincing skills to the test once again.

"It's okay Deb, just go home. I'll stay here and make sure everything-"

"No fuck you Dex. I...I don't want to be alone, and I don't want you to be alone either. You're not getting rid of me."

Dexter just sighed once again. Looks like his persuasion skills are far too rusty when it comes to his hot-headed sister. But then again, that always held true, especially when she was right. He needed to know if she would be alright for the night.

"Fine. Let's just get out of here, now."

"Where are we going?"

Dexter was already starting to lead her out of the burning church, but he took one last look at it. He would always remember this place of blazing lies and truths.

"We're going to wait for the call."

The cool breeze outside on the dock didn't help resolve the lingering tension between the foster siblings. While Debra continued to sneak in nervous looks at Dexter, he pretended to not notice. Though, this was easy for him since he was partially locked within his own thoughts.

"This is just wrong. I should be burying his body in the sea, not sitting here waiting to be called for a crime scene. I just need to get past this all, for Deb."

Dexter exhaled before turning towards Debra, but this time she didn't hastily look away. Dexter raised an eyebrow in response to her look, Debra's eyes still searching for some kind of answer within him. Unfortunately, he knew she wouldn't want the answer at all.

Both of their phones going off cuts through the exchange, Debra picking it up swiftly.

"Morgan."

Dexter on the other hand just stares at his phone, reading the text in frustration. This was the moment of truth, or rather, the moment of lies. It was time to see if their late night work will pay off or not.

Soon they found themselves standing within the church with their usual group of homicide partners: Angel Batista, Joey Quinn, Vince Masuka, and Maria LaGuerta. Dexter nods his head as usual to them but gives a sideways glance to the newer team member, Mike Anderson, who was giving a curious look over to Debra.

"Lieutenant Morgan, you feeling well this morning?"

Everyone looks over to Debra, her face looking flushed and she was deeply staring over at Dexter. It was only until he looked back at her did she realize that she was the star of the show at the moment.

"Uhh yea, i'm fine. Masuka what do we have here?"

Masuka just blinked before starting to rave on about the logistics of how the fire started. Everyone else became attentive, well, as attentive as they could be when Masuka usually started to become chatty, but the two siblings were in their own world.

Debra continued to look at Dexter, her eyes speaking volumes on how nervous she was about all of this. Dexter just softly exhaled and nodded his head towards Masuka. They wouldn't be able to get through this if both of them started acting weirder than normal.

"What do you think about this Dexter?" Masuka raised his brow at Dexter's lost look.

Now everyone's eyes were on Dexter, and he took one last glance at Debra before he made his way towards the body of Travis.

"It appears that Travis doused himself with gasoline, set himself on this table, and he just, stabbed himself in the chest with the sword. With the fire, this was one last sacrifice to make for his 'God'."

Everyone seemed to be within their own thoughts from this, but Dexter just shrugged it off.

"Based on where it is, he died instantly."

"Well that's a shame isn't it?"

Quinn just crossed his arms and stared hard at the body. He must have spoken what everyone else was feeling because the air seemed to become less tense afterwards. Angel just sighed before looking over to Debra.

"Cheer up Lieutenant, this is a win for you."

Debra just nodded her head before her eyes traveled back towards her brother.

"It would have been better to catch him alive."

Everyone just gave grunts or mixed responses, but Dexter just looked away from his sister. This wasn't going to be easy to move on from. But it seems like the worst is over, that is, until his heart almost stops in its tracks.

"Plastic wrap…"

Dexter quickly looks back over to Debra, who was still staring at him thankfully, and he nods his head towards the body of Travis. She blinks at first not getting his point, but her heart too almost plummets as she sees a bit of small plastic stuck to the foot of Travis's burned body. Debra had to take a second to make sure she wouldn't sound panicked when speaking.

"M-masuka," Shit. Debra clears her throat, "Masuka. Hey, would you really be able to kill yourself with that sword?"

As Masuka happily goes on a tirade of explanations, Dexter swiftly moves over to the body and retrieves the plastic. If there was another thing that Masuka was good for other than lab skills, it was capturing people's attention with his silly conversations and banter.

It was stopped short as Captain LaGuerta walked up with a smile on her face. If Debra wasn't excited about all of this, LaGuerta sure was. This was just another win for her department that she couldn't afford to lose.

"Well done Lieutenant Morgan, this is a victory for us. The press is waiting for you outside."

Debra blinked before shifting on her feet awkwardly. Before she could even say anything, LaGuerta just held up a hand.

"I know, I usually do this. But, this is an important victory for you, and for this, you need to be the hero this time Lieutenant." She gave another soft smile to Debra. "Go get them Debra."

Debra stood there for a second before looking over to Dexter, as if she was pleading for him to come with her. Everyone could tell she was nervous, and as usual, the first person she looked to was her brother. Too bad they didn't know the full reason.

Dexter knew it was hard for her to have to lie. He was so use to it by then that it was hard for him to remember that Debra is far off from being just like him. And honestly, he was thankful for that. Being covered in dark lies didn't suit his sister after all.

He nods his head towards Debra as he stepped off where Travis laid and made his way towards her. Angel places a hand on Debra's shoulder, his soft smile reaching his eyes. Being an older brother himself, he knew when someone needed a boost.

"We'll all be right behind you Debra. C'mon guys, lets go."

Everyone started to make their way out, Dexter standing to the right of Debra and Masuka standing to the left with what seemed like a devilish grin.

"Don't worry Lieutenant, just make sure they get your good side. And not just your ass I mean."

Debra gave a firm push and her patented "Fuck you" to a snickering Masuka before proceeding to walk towards the press hungry leeches. As much as Dexter was annoyed with that comment about his sister, he inwardly smiled at her response. Whatever could make her return to 'normal', the better for him and her. He began to catch up to her as he could see her looking around for him before the press started to hound her about the whole ordeal.

Little did they know that LaGuerta was distracted by her findings. She stares confusingly at a broken slide that has blood within it. Memories of Sergeant Doakes flashed before her eyes, as his conviction of the Bay Harbor Butcher still haunts her. But, this can't be here because that very same man who was accused of murder was dead. So how…

She shook her head and called over one of the lesser forensic team members to come and bag it. She didn't know how this found its way over here, but she wouldn't waste a second in figuring out how.

Dexter tiredly walks up the stairs to his apartment. He knew not even sleep would be able to give him the peace he needed, but it was definitely a good start. He could only hope it would be enough for Debra as well. He just needed to get this done, and even now, he really just wanted to see his son, Harrison Morgan. There was another screw up he was desperately trying to avoid from happening.

Opening the door to the apartment, he expected to see the smiling face of Harrison, or to even just see Jamie, but instead, there was...Louis Greene? What was Masuka's lab intern poking around his apartment for?

Louis just beamed at Dexter, for which Dexter himself had no idea why, and he just returned the smile with a slight frown. He seemed to always have some kind of admiration for Dexter, but this would only work if Dexter cared for such a thing.

"Louis, what're you doing here?"

"I was just trying not to get in Jamie's way with Harrison." He just casually shrugged.

Dexter wasn't having any of it though as he looked to the position of his laptop.

"And you needed my laptop because?..."

Again, Louis just gave a small smile and shrugged. "I took a look at some sports scores you know. I do enjoy sports just like-"

"Louis I don't give a shit about what you enjoy. Don't ever touch my things ever again. We are not pals, or whatever it is you think we are, got it?"

"..."

Louis remained stunned under Dexter's icy glare, which was typically given to those he was about to slide a cold steel blade into. Dexter usually wouldn't be this aggressive, but now was the time he couldn't handle any more surprises. It's a good thing he expected Jamie to come around the corner.

"Oh Dexter you're home! I was just putting Harrison to bed…."

She started to trail off as she could see the disgruntled look Dexter was giving the uncomfortable Louis.

"What're you doing over here Louis?"

Louis started to shift awkwardly over to Jamie, and he was giving silent 'sorrys' to her as Dexter took a seat in his chair. All he wanted was for them to leave now.

"It's okay Jamie. You must be tired so you can go home now."

Jamie just nodded and started to lead Louis out of the apartment, not without giving Dexter a silent 'sorry' of her own before closing the door. Dexter just sighed, finally being able to feel a little less tense, but, there were still some things to check if he wanted to convince himself to take Louis off of his kill list.

Dexter gets up to lock his door to avoid any more surprises, and quickly heads over to his air conditioner where his blood slide trophies lay at rest. If this showed any type of tampering with, Louis would get a lot more than a mouthful from Jamie.

He took the slides out, opening them and inspecting everything, even carefully running his finger through every single slide. Perfect. He couldn't risk anyone else putting his secret out….except for himself. Suddenly Dexter felt his heart skip a bit, wondering how many more times could that happen today, and he felt around all of his pockets.

"Shit."

The blood slide of Travis Marshall. He must have left it at the church when he was hastily setting up his suicidal execution. Dexter placed his hand on his forehead. If it wasn't for Harrison peacefully sleeping, he would've yelled out in absolute frustration. He took a deep breath and put his trophies back in their place of rest.

"Okay...it must have gotten destroyed in the church. Otherwise I would have found it just like that piece of plastic. But…"

Dexter found himself in the doorway to Harrison's room, seeing him sleeping the night away. This only slightly calmed Dexter, as he still came to realize what all was at stake when it came to his secrets.

"It's all going to be okay Harrison….it's all going to be okay."

Dexter knew that no matter how much he said it, it could very well still go downhill from here. But, he could only hope that they were in the clear. It was the same hope that wished for Debra to be in a better mood. The image of her tear filled eyes resided in his mind, and the warm feeling of her hand still lingered on his own. But more than anything, which helped distract him from the earlier thoughts, the look of fear that his sister had towards him struck him the most.

Sigh.

Dexter almost wishes he lacked the capacity to feel again, but in times like this, he remembers that he's always reserved this ability for Debra. No wonder all of this is so hard. He took another look at Harrison. Ugh, and his son certainly didn't help his non-emotion streak. Either way, he could only hope they would move forward from this for both of them.

"For the last time, i'm sorry Jamie. I just wanted a glass of water."

Louis sat in his apartment's living room, rubbing his forehead in frustration as his girlfriend continued to give him the riot act.

"It's not my fault he's such a big asshole about me being over there."

Jamie just huffed and continued to prepare for bed as she looked away from her boyfriend. They were definitely not having sex that night.

"That's because you shouldn't have been there Louis. And Dexter is a great guy, you know he probably had a long day."

"Or he's just always a jerk..." Louis spoke softly as he looked off.

"What was that?"

"Nothing! Just, i'm sorry alright?"

Jamie shook her head and walked into their bedroom away from him.

"The longer we're together, the more weird you get. Just be careful next time. Night."

She just laid down in bed and didn't spare him another glance. Louis just sighed and went back to his laptop. Well, even if he couldn't make amends with his girlfriend tonight, he'd have to make the most of this with hacking into Dexter's bank account. He figured Dexter wouldn't seem so tough if he had no money left to his name. Either way, Louis smirked in victory.

"This will teach you to degrade my game, AND embarrassing me in front of Jamie…"

Debra shuffled inside her house, sighing hard as she closed the door behind her.

For her, this was possibly the longest fucking day she has had since Harry's death. And it certainly wasn't getting any better as she watched herself lie on television. Joy.

"Good fucking job Debra. I'm sure this makes the old man very proud..."

Beer at hand and sorrow in her heart, this would seem like a typical night if the sorrow wasn't all about her big brother.

It was one thing to stress about whether she could be in love with him or not, but to hide the fact he illegally murdered a notorious serial killer? She doesn't know whether to put his ass in jail or to kiss him...err, or maybe hug him.

Sigh.

Debra just closed her eyes. What is happening with her? She was all ready, albeit still nervous, with telling Dexter exactly what she's been feeling lately. But, after last night, her image of him has changed dramatically.

She can still feel the warmth of his hand when he touched her at the church, and remembers how she was entranced by his eyes every time he looked into hers. But now, she can also remember the victorious look he had when he stabbed Travis to death. She could've sworn she even saw a slight smile plastered on his face...

Debra shook her head and took a huge swig of her beer. She didn't know how much sleep she'd need to get passed this, but today would be a good start. Right when she started to get up, her phone ringing halted her movements. Hoping it might be Dexter to talk, she hastily got it out of her pocket only to see a name she didn't expect this time of night: Mike Anderson.

"Morgan here." She raised her brow in curiosity. What could Anderson possibly want?

"Lieutenant, you know, I don't remember seeing a car parked at the church when we first got there."

Debra's heart almost skipped a beat, but unlike earlier today with Masuka, it was easier to stray from the truth over the phone.

"I see, what're you suggesting exactly?"

"Why would someone bother to walk all the way to the church?"

Debra just exhaled. This WAS easier.

"Well, I'd assume someone who is about to commit suicide really wouldn't care about a long fucking walk."

Anderson just gave a slight chuckle in response, she could almost visualize him shrugging it off.

"Yeah, you're probably right. I too just wish we could've gotten him alive Lieute-"

Suddenly Anderson stopped, causing Debra to blink in confusion.

"Detective Anderson?"

"Huh? Oh yea, sorry, I'll have to call you back Lieutenant. Have a good night."

"Huh? Anderson?"

But the call had already cut off. Debra raised a curious brow but just took another gulp of her beer. Oh well, she'll see him tomorrow anyway. She had bigger problems to face tonight anyhow, like figuring out how to sleep without thinking of Dexter.

As much as he found his Lieutenant's harsh language to be amusing, Mike Anderson had another interest at the moment.

He started to pull to the side of the road, concern etched onto his face as he got out of the car. As a cop, he had no qualms helping someone who seemed to be stuck on the road.

"Sir, is everything alright?"

The man fidgeted, jumping slightly from Anderson's booming voice. He seemed nervous, and shook his head rapidly.

"I-it's okay man, e-everything's fine!"

Anderson just laughed it off and shrugged as he came even closer nonchalantly.

"Don't worry man, i'm a cop. What seems to be the problem? A flat?"

"N-no! No, it's fine honestly! I can handle it man."

Anderson raised his brow in curiosity, what did this guy have to be so nervous for? The man stood up quickly as Anderson took one more step towards him. Instinctively, Anderson's hand landed on the hilt of his firearm, but he didn't take it all the way out. The air between them became tense, and the other man slightly reaching behind him didn't help either. He really didn't want help that badly?

Anderson just grunted, this weird experience of ungratefulness being a little too much for his liking. As he just nodded his head and shrugged, he started to turn until his eyes landed onto the cracked open trunk of the man's car. Time almost seemed to slow as he could faintly see the corpse of a woman jammed inside. The man followed Anderson's eyesight, and it only took a second to pass before both men had their pistols out and pointed towards each other.

"Freeze! Put away the gun now or I WILL shoot!" Anderson screamed with fierce authority.

The man, losing all of his nervousness only sighed as his gun pointed in-between the eyes of Detective Anderson.

"I told you I didn't need any help. Now look where we are."

Anderson wasn't having any of this conversation though, and with a family of his own, he wasn't willing to take chances with this guy. The sweat on his forehead ran cold, but the heat of the tension made both of their hearts beat at a fast pace. Anderson however, felt the most in control even now.

"I will not say this again. Put the gun down, and put your hands over your fucking head."

This time his voice was pure venom. What can he say, he's picked up one or two habits from his Lieutenant's sailor mouth.

Before either could make a decisive move, the headlights of another car flashed upon them as it came rolling up at a fast rate, screeching to an abrupt halt right beside them. There was no way in hell neither man was willing to take advantage of that distraction. The man fired off his pistol, but by this time Anderson managed to roll back behind the car, taking shelter right in front of the open trunk. The man just proceeded to snarl in frustration and went towards the front of the car to achieve his own shelter.

This would have been a regular stalemate for the both of them if the brave man who caught them off guard didn't start to leave his vehicle. He calmly closed his doors and made a slight chuckle at the situation before him.

"Well well, isn't it a tad bit late at night for you men to be playing with toys?"

Anderson peeked a look at this newcomer, and even in the darkness of the night could he perceive his distinct features. He had bright green eyes that just seemed to glow from the headlights of Anderson's car. His short-cropped Ivy-league dark blonde hair was neat, and his face was clean shaven. Anderson took note of his build, he seemed lean and muscular judging by the way his black t-shirt fit him, and his size was around 6 ft. Perfect. Probably some snooty Miami resident who didn't know any better and will turn into just another casualty.

Anderson just gave a heavy sigh and started to pat his pockets in hopes of finding his phone to call for backup.

"Shit."

Anderson realized he must have placed his phone down inside the car after hanging up on Debra. There wasn't a shred of thought that he might need it helping a civilian with a broken car. Who knew.

The armed man just fired his gun in the air and then pointed it towards the mystery man.

"Look, I don't know who you are, but just leave here and forget you've seen me or this asshole cop! Now!"

Anderson, hearing that first shot go off, started to maneuver to the right side of the car in hopes of catching the criminal off guard. It was like he forgot about him, but at the same time, what was this other man doing? Anderson peeks over the car slightly again to see the other man casually standing there and...is he yawning? Anderson just decided then he's had enough of this night.

"Sir! Either get out of here or call the cops, it's not safe you idiot!"

His authoritative voice startled the armed man once again and he started to move to his right towards the other man unconsciously to get away from Anderson.

Then suddenly, everything happened so fast that Anderson couldn't even comprehend.

The other man swiftly sent a heavy, precise roundhouse kick to the armed man's temple, sending him head first down to the concrete. Before any retaliation could happen, he stomps on the man's wrist that held the pistol, forcing it out of his grip. The once innocent man took to smiling victoriously, and he simply picked up the gun from the groaning criminal.

"Don't worry officer, it's safe now."

Anderson slowly peered out from the side of the car, his gun pointed straight at the 'innocent' man. With everything that has happened, he wasn't taking anymore chances.

"Okay, good, you took him down. I'm Detective Anderson from Miami Homicide, so, just put down the gun. Now."

The green eyed man chuckled slightly. "Relax, I was just saw the fun and-"

When their eyes connected, the smile fell from his face, causing Anderson to raise his brow. The other man just simply stared at Anderson, Anderson shifting uncomfortably under his gaze. It was a strange look that he was receiving after all. He didn't feel threatened in the slightest, but at the same time, it wasn't an approach you'd normally get from someone being near a cop. It was almost, a look of pity?

The other man just sighed and dropped the gun down on the ground. He then proceeded to raise his hands in the air.

"Sorry officer, I just did what had to be done."

Anderson raised a brow, moving closer to this strange man and the criminal that was groaning on the ground, his arm still under the pressure of the daring man's foot.

"Argh! Whatever, just get this lunatic off of me!"

Anderson pointed his gun away from the innocent man and right down at the criminal. He just gave a slight grin to the other man, who didn't seem to be as laid back as before, but Anderson just shrugged it off. Finally things were going his way now.

"I don't know, how about you explain that body in the trunk huh? My Lieutenant down at the office would love to have a chat with you."

Anderson started to reach for his handcuffs and leaned down towards the criminal. A late night victory was a good story to tell his family back home, and this accomplishment was all he could see. So, he had no idea that a bone crushing roundhouse was inches away from his skull.

Anderson, just as the criminal before him, slammed head first into the pavement, his gun flying from his hand. Confusion and pain settled in as he tried to get up from the blow, his eyes shutting tight from the sharp pain in his head. When he finally opened his eyes, all he could see was the barrel of a gun, and his heart dropped harder than he had. The other man just looked at him, a soft smile on his face and that same pity expression tainted on his features.

"It's okay Detective. I'll set your phantom free."

BOOM.

Anderson fell towards the ground, feeling nothing anymore as a bullet hole formed in his skull, and the blood ran away from his corpse. If only Anderson had ran as well.

The criminal remained silent, not sure how to respond or what to think, and he just stared wide-eyed at the once innocent man. The man just looked down at the criminal and shrugged.

"You're lucky, yours doesn't need to be freed yet. I don't care if you have someone in your trunk or not, either way, don't get in my way."

For the criminal, the man's green eyes seemed to penetrate in his soul. He wasn't judging him at all, but he was casting a fear that he's never felt before. He couldn't even move, hell, he didn't want to. He almost wanted to be a ghost, to be a phantom, just so he couldn't be near this man. The throbbing pain he has on his wrist and head doesn't seem to matter anymore.

The other man just scoffs and pulls out a set of white gloves, puts them on, and he pulls a white card from his pocket. After putting on the gloves, he places the card in front of Anderson's dead body, and he even places Anderson's dropped gun back into his holster. He looks at the gun he stole from the criminal and looks back at him, deciding what to do. The criminal almost started to plea, but the man just simply took a cloth from his pocket, wiped down the gun, and then emptied all of its bullets. He tossed the gun at the criminal who was still laying down on the ground, crippled by unprecedented fear. The man simply just shrugs.

"Do as you wish with that."

He stares at his work, smiles, and then starts to walk away. The criminal lets go of his long held breath until the man turned around one last time.

"Ah, by the way, what's your name? And please, please don't lie. I can tell."

His green eyes simply bore into the criminals, and he nodded his head rapidly to relate that he understood completely. He wasn't going to chance this with a fake name or even just his first.

"I-i'm...i'm Viktor Baskov…who are you?"

The man just shrugged and yawned once again.

"You don't need to know. Just don't tell anyone about me, unless you want to be just like the Detective over there." He looked into his eyes once again. "Unless you do want to be set free?"

Viktor shook his head rapidly once again and just laid there, unmoving once again. The other man just nodded his head at Viktor before turning around and walking off once again.

"Good. Oh, and you probably want to clean up anything else, for your sake, but don't touch Anderson or the card. I'll know if you do, Viktor Baskov."

The man hops into his car, and pulls off down the road casually, as if nothing had ever happened here. Viktor starts to rise up, wiping the sweat and blood off his forehead, and lets out a giant breath. He probably even had Anderson's blood on him, and most likely gun residue. But, he could care less about that at the moment.

"What the hell was that…."

He rolls over towards Anderson's body and looks at the card. His face scrunches in confusion as he reads it.

"Free the Phantoms?..."

Viktor decides he has had enough of this night, but he would in no way even touch that card. As he cleaned up his car for prints and whatever else was on the female's body in the trunk, he replayed the situation in his head. The way the guy took him down, the way he also mercilessly murdered the cop, and worst of all, the way his green eyes penetrated him, exposed him, and scared him...it was more than he has ever experienced.

He went to Anderson's car and took off down the road. He wasn't sure who this "Phantom" guy was, but whoever he was…

He silently prayed for anyone who decides to take him on.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! First chapter hype! :D Be sure to review so I can know what you guys think about the story so far.

As you can see we've got a new badass criminal underway. And don't worry, there's more to come on the Dex/Deb ship, but it's a process, as it should be. :) Thanks again for reading and I hope you enjoyed it!