hi! So this is my first Dexter fic, I am obsessed with the show, of course , or wouldn't be writing one. Me and my housemates (who are also obsessed) all have a bet as to how Dexter is going to end. So, although this can stand alone, there will be at least one more chapter. I apologise in advance, my typos are notorious, and no matter how many times I check, they always worm past me. Sorry, I am babbling now.
- Oh and I don't own anything to do with this fic.
New Year: New Changes
'Although the state is one of the most conservative states in America; they say that in Miami, a person can do whatever they like and nobody will judge you' - - oh wait, that's Nevada and Las Vegas. What is it they say about Miami...?
...That, 'almost anything and everything strange washes up on its shores'. That, 'if you don't know Spanish, you don't know the language, so you better fucking learn it'.
On the topic of quotes, Garbo once said that, 'a woman in love can't be reasonable, or else she probably wouldn't be in love'. It was also said that, 'you can't buy love, but you can pay heavy for it'.
MIAMI BEACH. Night time. To anyone flying over, it would look like a fucking solar system; but then as you get closer to the runway, the most exquisite sunset; until you make out all those neon lights, and wonder whether you should have brought the multicolour tie-die and large prints that were left back in the 60s. Flying over in the day may not be too different either, with the amount of orange hue walking about, in phosphorescent clothing, - is neon making a comeback?
Reasonably isolated and tucked off in a little hollow on the Florida coastline, just off the southern easter point of South Pointe Beach; a one-level two-bedroom bungalow strategically sits with a distance between Miami Police Department and 8240 Palm Terrace, apartment #10B, Miami, Florida.
True to Miami-style, it is quaintly decorated with white and multicoloured fairy lights. Perched alone on its section of rock, looking out to the wide ocean; it almost resembles a light house, emitting its light as if it was her love, waiting tirelessly and patiently for her lover's ship to come in and return him safely - was it not also said that, 'a woman's heart is like an ocean...?'
Regardlessly, the waves, they sometimes beat lightly against the rock; other times they crash relentlessly; all the time breaking the bungalow's structure, her composure, bit by bit, until eventually she will collapse and eventually perish into the ocean.
She will no longer be a beacon of light for her long awaited lover.
And the waves this winter have been particularly trying.
Enough pathetic fallacy from me. I start my vehicle engine and disappear off into the night.
Frowning, Harrison looks up from the plastic toy train that had been echoing loudly along his aunt's wooden floors, to regard said person hunched over the kitchen island sink; located in the middle of the very large, sparse open planned room. It isn't like his own kitchen. Nothing about this place, is anything like his own home. Apart from the two photographs that stand on the scarce wooden, aquamarine-painted book shelf; the glass of one of them has been broken.
Harrison clutches his toy harder in his hand, but never moves his concentration off the removed figure.
He has felt like this before, has observed emotion like this before, and the memories shoot unwelcomed tingles through his small, three-year-old body.
It isn't even technically a train he is clutching so tightly in his hand for comfort. Thomas, and the rest of his train set are at his own house.
Harrison doesn't know why he is still here - he doesn't know why he is here in the first place, but he has also, more importantly, never been alone with her, for this long without his father, siblings, grandparents, or Jamie. Jamie, he wants - needs her. But they had told him that she had gone away.
He wants his father. Him and his father's sister alone isn't a regular thing, and it makes him uneasy.
The front door openes and closes harshly, breaking their ongoing silence.
Desperately, Harrison snaps his head in the direction of the noise, but no one is there.
It is just the wind; which for some weeks now, have been abnormally rough for December/January weather.
Realising nobody is there, Harrison wants to cry, but only lets out a few short quiet, whimpers, before fixing his attention back on his aunt. She remains, unphased.
She has been in that pose for a while now, and he suddenly has an overwhelming crave for attention; he knows that she can be fun, can pull funny faces, run after him for hours on end, almost do anything to make him laugh... But he doesn't know how to initiate conversation first and get her attention. Outside of his Jamie, grandparents and siblings; he has never been encouraged to talk really; the other two, always seem to be more satisfied with just smilies and seeing that he is in one piece.
He is about to make a scream to get her attention, when he gets distracted by a thought. Something, Isabella, who has pretty green eyes, black hair that is always in six plaits, and stares through picture books with him said at pre-school the other day. It had confused him, but his childlike brain had allowed him to almost instantaneously forget his confoundment no sooner as it had arrived. She had pointed to a word in a book and said, 'Mama', before proceeding to annoyingly and rather in-considerately - as he was still reading the book, close it and tell him in a very serious voice, 'I only live with Mama now, not Dada anymore'; before opening the book back up again.
He knew from pick-up time at nursery that, 'mama' were like 'dadas', only older girls who sometimes had long hair. He had called, Jamie, 'mama' once but she had just laughed and shook her head saying that she wasn't him mama, before looking very sad. He didn't ask her again.
One of his teachers, Sister Eloise, had told his class that mama's, as well as dada's love you very much, and because of this you must give them lots of hugs and kisses. She had also said that sometimes you may live with both your mama and your dada, or just one, or neither at all. Which had only confused him more.
He asked his father once, and like Jamie, he proceeded to look very sad. He didn't ask him again either.
Multiple unknown blurred faces flashed through his memory when he thought of his mama. But he wondered now if his father's sister was actually his mama, and because his Jamie had gone, he would like, Isabella, now live with his mama and not his dada...?
After some thought, he shouts clearly and with all certainty across the room, "Mama!"
And he is not wrong. Her head whips around the room and she scurries over to pick him up. Her hands, slim like his Jamie's, but much larger, although not as large or thick as Dada's, enclose around his head and brings it into her strong but warm chest. She places several warm kisses atop his blonde crop of hair, and he nestles into the embrace and scent, which he has just learned is his mama.
Harrison smiles happily, and raising his head, repeates his new favourite word. He catches her eyes, and even his three year-old self knew that she is deeply troubled and sad. His spine tingles, he had seen emotion like this before... But then she smiles, and it seems to melt away her sadness slightly. So he says the word again, and she giggles, water forming in her eyes, but somehow he knows not from unhappiness, and she places a searing kiss on his cheek.
"Mama no sad, Harri' make 'ou 'appy".
"Yes", she agrees beaming. "Harrison makes me happy", tossing him up in the air and catching him so he screams with laughter.
His mama is strong, not like his Jamie; like dada, she could lift him up and upside down, and chase him all over the floor and furniture in her - their home until he has no energy left. She reads him his favourite book over and over again until he was bored of it or would fall asleep. She and him could stay in the bath and sea even after they were all pruney and wrinkley, and she wouldn't make him wear clothes or swim shorts at the beach. Because she was his mama.
What do you guys think? Reviews are greatly appreciated. If you're a bit ?, it will become clearer in the next chapter - hopefully.