Debra wasn't one to cry often. Even when she did, there weren't many tears. This time, she was blinded by them.
She ran away from him, through the darkness. Her eyes were puffy and her throat was sore from sobbing. She banged on Quinn's door. How had she gotten here? Had she driven? The whole thing was a blur. The only thing she could remember was Dexter standing over that fuckface with a knife.
Quinn finally opened his fucking door. He was naked. Good. Debra slammed her body against his, and didn't bother to close the door.
Quinn tried to protest, but it had been so long since their last real kiss. God, he had to kiss her back. The chick he'd picked up at the bar by showing her his gun made a few rude comments when she saw Deb pressed against him and attacking his face, but Quinn didn't pay her any attention. He was too busy trying to unbutton Deb's fucking blouse. Neither of them paid any attention when the bimbo stormed out of his door swearing.
Debra threw herself into the kiss, put every inch of feeling she had into mashing her lips and teeth against Quinn's. It wasn't so bad. He was the perfect fucking distraction. It was helping her forget until all of a sudden, it wasn't Quinn she was kissing in her mind. It was Dexter. She gave a strangled moan and held on to him for dear life.
Then she pushed him away, remembering it was only Quinn. "Fuck! I can't get him out of my head!" She pulled at her hair and turned away in frustration.
"Who?" Quinn's face squinted in confusion. "Marshall?" But Deb was already out of the still-open door. "Fuck." Quinn said to himself, looking around at his empty apartment.
Deb found her car in the parking lot. She had driven here, after all. She sped to the woods. It was a spot she'd followed Harry and Dex to one weekend, after she'd finally gotten her license. She'd ended up heading back in the end, but she had been desperate enough to follow in the first place.
It was here, here where she had wished she'd known more about Dexter and her father; it was here where she wished she knew less. She pulled over next to the trees, submerged in the dark, and cried. She cried until her nose ran, and she couldn't open her eyes. She cried until she slept.
A noise woke Dexter. It had been hard enough to fall asleep. But even after he'd spent hours looking for his sister, trying to explain, he hadn't been tired enough to fall into a deep sleep. He'd come back home, having decided that if these were to be his last moments as a free man, he wanted to spend them at home, with Harrison.
He turned to the noise beside his bed, startled, wondering if these were the men come to take him away already.
"Deb?" He exclaimed in surprise.
She was curled up on the floor near his bed, shaking with her sobs. "Dexter," she cried out. "I had a nightmare." Dexter moved off of his bed and onto his knees beside her.
"Deb, it's okay." He reached out a tentative hand to her shoulder. She leaned into his touch.
"Dexter, it was so bad. It was awful. You-you-" She cried harder as she hid her face against her knees.
Dexter wrapped his arm around her, and pulled her tight against his chest. "I'm so sorry, Deb, I'm so sorry."
Debra pulled away a little, but only to wrap her arms around his waist and bury her face into his neck. His arms were safe, warm, strong around her. "I'm so scared." She whispered, before she let her head stop thinking. Before she stopped thinking about anything but the feel of him holding her.
He wanted to tell that it was just a nightmare. That was just what you did. He'd said it to Harrison how many times. He just wanted to make her feel better, and tell it all wasn't real.
He'd give anything to say it was just a nightmare as he stroked her back and she sobbed against him. But he couldn't, because this time it wasn't just a nightmare.