Author's Note: I know that until now I've stuck to a rigorous two chapters 'Dexter', two chapters 'Funny Games' pattern, but seeing as this story'll be over in the next...eh... approximate five chapters, it's time for the two fandoms to collide in a single chapter.
Fun and Games, Chapter Nine
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The girl was awake now. She sat in her assigned hospital bed, looking curiously at the four people who had just entered her usually empty hospital room. They were Angel, Deb, Dexter, and Belanger. Angel and Deb, being the lead detectives on the case, had to come. Dexter had come because of his..."hobby". Belanger came because- much to Dexter's quiet frustration- after all, Dexter had "volunteered to help him around".
Debra greeted the girl. "Ms..."Debra looked down at her sheet, "Cheryl Adams. My name is Detective Morgan and this is my partner, Detective Batista. This is Dexter Morgan, blood spatter analyst." Her voice grew a certain sound of agitation. "And this is FBI Agent Belanger."
"Hello," the girl- Cheryl Adams - greeted them.
"Ms. Adams, my colleagues and I have some questions about what happened to you," Debra said. "You don't mind answering them, do you?"
"No, I don't mind answering any questions."
Debra smiled. "Okay, good. Ms. Adams, can you tell us what happened?"
"Darren and I were invited to his parents' vacation home. His aunt and uncle were there as well. We had only been there about a day when this guy- Paul, he said his name was- came over asking for eggs. He said he was staying with the Farbers next door and Ann - that's Ms. Farber- ran out of eggs. Darren's mom, Betsy, let him in." She stopped talking there.
Angel had pulled out a notepad and was jotting all of this down. Debra nodded and asked, "What happened then?"
"He got...weird."
"Weird, how?" Angel asked.
She paused, then said, "First of all, he was dressed oddly."
Angel pressed on. "How so? I know this difficult for you, ma'am, but we want this guy off the streets."
"Guys, actually," she said. "There are two of them - Peter and Paul."
So, I was right, Dexter thought, there is a pair. A pair of rotten eggs.
Belanger swallowed the gum that he had been chewing obnoxiously. "There's t-two of them? And what age are they?"
The lines on Cheryl Adams' forehead creased. "How would I know? Twenties, I would guess."
Angel cleared his throat. "Anyway, how were they dressed?"
" They both wore long-sleeved yellow parkas. Paul had on a long-sleeved white shirt, white shorts, and white shoes. Peter had a short-sleeved white shirt, black shorts, and black shoes. The oddest thing, though, was that they wore white cotton gloves. Gloves covered in blood."
"How else were they weird?"
"Well, at first there was just the one of them- Paul. But then, out of nowhere, there were two of them. They said their names were Peter and Paul. But they called each other different names. And then they smashed the eggs we had given them, twice. Plus our phone. So Betsy tried to kick them out."
"And how did they respond?"
"Peter... he smacked her. Across the face; hard. And that's when I hid. "
"Okay, Ms. Adams, a sketch artist will be arriving soon to-" Debra started to say but Angel's cell phone ringing cut her off.
"It's LaGuerta," he announced. "Okay... okay... no way!" he spoke into the phone. "You'll never guess what's happened!"
"What?" asked Debra. "What's happened?"
"A woman called in to 911, saying that two men named 'Paul' and 'Peter' had come to her home and killed her son and husband."
Debra said, "No way! Where is she?"
"She's being brought into the hospital now," Angel replied. "LaGuerta said her name was 'Victoria Toney'."
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Victoria Toney had been brought into the very same room Cheryl Adams was staying. Alyssa Toney was still in major surgery. There was no hope for either Charles or Noah Toney; they were both dead. But the largest blow to Victoria Toney came when Batista delivered her the news of the results of Alyssa's surgery.
"I'm deeply sorry for your loss," Batista had said. Victoria responded with sobs of grief. Batista patted her awkwardly on the shoulder and left the hospital room.
"So..." Cheryl said from her bed. "What happened to you?" She was unaware that Victoria was the 'other woman' who had called the police about Paul and Peter.
Victoria sighed and looked up at her with bloodshot eyes. "It was a normal day. We had gone out to eat at the nearby diner, to celebrate Charles' promotion at work. Then we drove home, and then...then... he arrived."
"Who arrived?" Cheryl asked.
"Paul."
Cheryl drew in a deep breath. "Paul? By chance, was there another man named Peter?"
"Yes..." Victoria said, crinkling her brow. "How do you know that?"
Cheryl began to cry as well. "That's why I'm in here. They came to our house and they...murdered... my boyfriend and my boyfriend's family. Did they come to your house too?"
"Y- yes," Victoria said.
"And did they hurt your family too?
"Yes!" Victoria sobbed. Tears were streaming down both of their faces at this point, pain and despair etched into their faces. "All of them, dead! Noah, Charles, Alyssa..." She deteriorated into a pool of sorrow and crying.
"I'm sorry, Victoria," Cheryl said. "I really am. I-" She broke down weeping as well. There they both lay, each on her own bed, feeling nothing but pain because of Paul and Peter.
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"Shit!" Paul screamed. He kicked the car he and Peter had stolen from Ms. Lawson. "What are we going to do now, Tubby?!"
"I've told you to quit calling me Tubby all the time!" responded Peter. "And I don't know what we're going to do now!"
The two had gotten as far as down the road from the Lawson and Toney houses before Ms. Lawson's ancient car had broken down.
"Okay," Paul said, taking deep breaths. "We need to think this through. We're in the middle of the woods, in the middle of nowhere, and the car's dead."
"We can wait for someone to drive along, and then hitchhike," Peter suggested.
Paul nodded his head and the two went over to the side of the road and sat down. There they waited for another car to drive down the road. Finally, a white can came along. Paul sprang to life, leapt up from his slump on the side of the road, and waved the van to a stop.
Inside the van were four people. A man with pitch-black hair and a lot of facial hair; a woman in fashionable-styled overalls with bright blue eye shadow; a man with an eagle necklace and many layers of jackets that left most of his chest exposed; and a sullen-looking teenager in an oversized brown jacket.
"You boys need a ride?" the man who was driving, the man with pitch black hair, asked Peter and Paul.
Paul smiled the most charming smile he could muster. "Yes, sir."
