The night is filled with inevitability. I see it in the full moon hung low in the sky. My fingers ache with the certainty of it all. I'm ready and willing and it's all about to fall into place.
I pull up outside the shipping container and step out of the car. I stare at it for a long moment. I'm not sure what made me come here. There were other places I could have taken him. But something about this choice felt complete. I take a glance around before I open the back of the car and haul the unconscious body through the container door.
He's well strapped down and I'm ready. Anxious for the moment I know is coming. I watch his eyes open, the recognition in them as he fixes onto me. The fear of being helpless on my table is clear and I grin in satisfaction.
"You're the brother of that bitch Lieutenant." My bloodthirsty friend is pulling against his restraints. "What the fuck man?"
"I see you've done your research. But your research didn't cover all of this now did it?" I gesture around; point out the pictures of his victims on the wall. I walk over to him, press my knife against his throat. "And don't call my sister a bitch." I growl.
He whimpers and stumbles over some sort of apology. Too little too late. I circle him. "Anyways, my relationship with Deb is….complicated. Foster sister, lover, something like that." He eyes me skeptically but decides with better judgment not to comment. "But I should thank you for targeting her. After all, that is what brought you here tonight. To my table." I lean over him menacingly, enjoying the way he tries to swallow the lump in his throat.
I step back from the table and examine my knife while he watches. "Hunting you down was very good for me. Helped me come to a few conclusions, figure some things out. Of course the biggest conclusion was something I already knew. That I have to protect Deb at all costs. That's what tonight is about. Protecting her from you first. Then when I'm done here I will take care of the other situation which she needs protection from."
My friend doesn't respond. He's too busy being scared for his life. I sigh dramatically, "You know I thought you would be more entertaining." I lift my knife and plunge it into his chest. The steel pierces his flesh in the most satisfying way and that energy moves up my arms and across my whole being. I sigh and relax and then the movement catches my eye. I look up and find Deb standing near the door, her gun raised.
"Fuck Dex." She looks terrified. That same expression when she walked in on me hovering over LaGuerta. I let go of the knife, remove my gloves and take a step back. "It's just that guy that got away last week." I say quietly.
Deb chances a glance towards the body and squints. She moves a step closer to be sure, then sighs with relief and allows the grip on her gun to loosen slightly. "I thought you had brought Angel here."
"I wouldn't have left a note to meet me here if Angel was on the table." I tell her reasonably. She looks at me warily but nods.
"Then why am I here?" She phrases the question, but she already knows the answer.
I watch as her gun lowers and I step closer to her, closing the distance between us. I look into her eyes and I know that we were always destined to come to this point. This is always how it was meant to be. It feels so peaceful. And I know Deb feels it too. She is crying now, but I can see the understanding in her eyes. We have both finally accepted what was always waiting for us.
I take her face between my palms and wipe the tears away with my thumbs. "It was always you Deb. The only one I ever loved." I press my lips to hers and savor the moment.
The shot reverberates against the walls of the shipping container. Dexter's eyes are open and I watch the life drain out of them. My hand falls away from the gun wedged between us as I feel his palms slip from my cheeks. I catch him as his body gives way and we are both on the ground suddenly, my arms wrapped around him.
I don't cry the way I might have expected to. I don't scream or wail. It's quiet sobs that escape my lips, the tears falling everywhere. I kiss him softly. His forehead, his cheek, his lips, over and over and over. I chant his name like a prayer. I beg for his forgiveness, though I already know I have it. And I tell him that I love him.
We both knew it had come to this. We knew how this would end. From that moment I walked into the church. Maybe even before that. But that doesn't make it easier.
It takes a long time before I am able to stop touching him. Even longer before I can get myself to my feet and call it in. I would have preferred to do this differently, but I don't have the strength for that number of lies. As it is there are too many and the pile will be added to tonight.
The cavalry arrives quickly, but when they see the people involved they don't know what to do. I see them around me, but I still stare at Dexter's unmoving body. Quinn's the first arrival who has the balls to approach me. He stares at me wordlessly for a long time, but then he puts his arm on my back and slowly nudges me out into the night air. I don't take my eyes off of Dexter until the last possible moment.
I'm sitting in the back of an ambulance with a blanket around my shoulders before anyone attempts to talk to me. It takes Angel several tries to rouse me from the contemplation of my blood covered legs. When I finally look up I find his watery eyes looking into mine.
"Deb? Can you tell me what happened?" His voice is choked with emotion.
"He's the BHB" I whisper.
His breath leaves him in a whoosh and I watch him try to compose himself. "I know…" He wants to say more, but he has no idea what.
"You confronted him?"
"He didn't want to go in. He wanted to leave Harrison with me and run. I almost let him... Fuck."
Angel nods. "And then?"
"I finally told him he couldn't. My gun was raised. He moved closer until it was pressed between us. He told me I only had one other option."
Angel doesn't say anymore. He sits next to me and wraps an arm around me, leans my head onto his shoulder. I go over the story again in my mind; it needs to be believable when the real questions begin.
Angel drives me to Dexter's and walks me inside. Jaime is sitting on the couch playing with Harrison, her eyes red and puffy. Harrison gives me a big grin when I walk in. He struggles off the couch and hurries over to me in his wobbly run. I fall to my knees and envelope him in my arms. His baby softness comforts me. I see Angel and Jaime hug each other reassuringly and look my way. I don't want to see their sadness or pity.
I pick Harrison up and take him to his room. I sit us in his rocking chair with a blanket draped over my lap to keep him clean of his father's blood. I snuggle him close and he looks up at me trustingly.
"Your Daddy loves you. And I do too. And I'll remind you every day. I'll always take care of you. You'll always have me." I tell him softly. I know there's more he needs to know. But it will have to wait until tomorrow. I'm too tired now to figure out how to tell him. I rock him until he falls asleep.
There are so many different versions of the truth. I have mine. And when Harrison is old enough, I will share it. What will he do with it? Will he blame me or his father? Will he be able to break this cycle that started with my father? Will I be able to save him from our family when I couldn't save Dexter and myself? Only time will tell. But he is all I have left. And I only hope that one day he will understand.