A lot of after season 7 stories going on and I've decided to try one myself. Nothing AU had happened before that, completely canon up until now. Enjoy!

Moving On.

Chapter One: Darkly Disturbed Debra.

I never thought about the end. The finishing of my journey, the end of the tunnel. I always believed myself to be somewhat unique, that I would survive out throughout the wars of humanity by myself. No one could stop me because no one knew my secret. But that all changed only a few mere months ago.

I can still remember it. The sound of the sword plunging into Travis Marshall, blood gushing out of him. But then I look up, to star into the horrified face of Debra Morgan...my sister.

I'm still amazed I managed to weasle my way out of that. I actually felt fear as Deb aimed her gun at me. Even if I did manage to convince her it was a one-time thing, she soon found out more. About my...Dark Passenger. But, the Dark Passenger is just...me.

It was my journey to the end; Deb finding the bloodslides, meeting and killing Issac, falling in love with Hannah and finding out that my captain was suspecting me as the Bay Harbor Butcher, denying it and framing Doakes. Even if it was true.

But here we are, in a cargo hold, two alive bodies and two very-dead people. One of them called Estrada, one of the killers of my mother. One of the causes of my killing urges.

All I can hear is her cries.

So emotional, so over-powering. She truly regrets piercing a bullet into LaGuerta, killing her to save me. I lay my head against the side of the cargo hold that the lifeless bodies of Estrada and the Captain of the Miami Metro Police Department. Deb clutches LaGuerta so tightly, staining her dress with the crimson substance that was her blood.

As I crouch in front of Deb, unsure of what to do I hear her choke out the same words every few minutes;

"I hate you!" She spluttered, hugging LaGuerta tightly.

I didn't try to make her take it back. I'd hate me if I was in her shoes. I just stared at her but I had two dead bodies around me and we had to get moving.

"Deb..." I say softly, moving to grab her arm. She recoils with a sob, clutching LaGuerta so tightly that more blood pours from the bullet wound. I reach out again, "Deb...we have to go."

"No!" She wails, shaking her head as she choked the sentence out, "I-I can't."

I take a firm grip of her arm and pull her away. She doesn't hit me, she doesn't have the will to now. She clutches onto me now, burying her head into my neck. I feel her tears slip down my skin but I pay no attention to it. I wrap my arms around her, hugging her tightly, "Ssh, it's okay." I sooth her like she's Harrison's age. She might as well be.

She feels so weak, so vulnerable. Deb always tries to hide her emotions, like me but many people are aware of her attempts. It's a rare, yet somehow common thing when people know I am. Doakes, Lila, Hannah, Miguel, the list goes on but the only one who knows that is still alive or in my life is Deb.

"I-I couldn't, fuck, D-Dexter!" Deb shook her head as she tried to splutter out words, "I fucking killed her!" She shoved me away, more angry than upset now, "I fucking killed someone and it wasn't even in self-defense! The shits hit the mother-fucking fan, Dexter!"

I struggle to my feet, walking to Deb, "Deb...we need to go. Before someone appears." I draw in a sharp breath. It's hard to believe that I'm actually speechless, "Go back to your car, I'll clean up here." I then add, "And do not ring the police, stay in the car...get in the car, and I'll join you after this and when I move my car."

She sharply nods and I can tell she won't disobey me. As she left, I gathered up my tools before turning to Estrada as I quickly shift his body position. Countless crime scenes showed me how to position a body in a way of a true homicide. Once that was finished I turned to LaGuerta and fixed her as well. I gathered up all my plastic and knifes before making my way first to my own car. I quickly start it up and drive past Deb's to get it out of the courtyard. I park it a good few meters or so away from it.

I then made my way to Deb's car. As I got in the drivers seat, I look to her, her dress and hands coated in blood. LaGuerta's blood. It's Rita's death all over again; finding a person I love covered in blood

"We better stop at your apartment before we head back to the restaurant."

"I'm not in the fucking mood to party, Dex..." Her tone is rough and croaky, throat dry from all the tears, "There is no fucking way I am going to a party and pretending everything is fan-fucking-tastic." She seemed to be swearing in every sentence. Her defense. She's hiding the pain.

I start the car and reverse out, leaving, "We have to appear normal. If we don't turn up, something is bound to go wrong."

"Fuck you.." Was her reply.

As I drove in silence I wondered what must be going through Deb's head.

She could have killed me, but she didn't. She saved me; Deeply Disruptive Dexter. And here she was, Darkly Disturbed Debra. The future can only tell us what is to happen, but it has to arrive first. And we have to survive until it does.