A/N: thanks everyone for reading and reviewing and of course your patience! Certainly not getting to sit down and write as often as I'd like to, but I promise to continue to work on this :) I'm glad you are enjoying this very dark and disturbed take-there will certainly be more of it to come!

Prompt: Cleaning up after a favorite activity

Dexter watches as Deb runs the heel of her hand against her forehead, attempting to brush the hair away from her face. Her gloved hand leaves a crimson smear against her pale skin.

He's not sure how he feels about this. There is a strange mixture of pride and fear. Happiness and disgust.

He rips a napkin off the paper towel roll and steps close to her. He can hear her suck in air as he wipes the blood away carefully.

Their eyes meet and he can feel the tension in their gaze. This was never somewhere he thought he'd find Deb; helping him clean up after a kill. But they have done so many things together in the past year that he could never have imagined.

There's a feeling of sadness that overwhelms him as he looks at her. He thinks he sees it in her eyes too, but then she smiles softly at him and the feeling dissipates.

"Are you okay?" He asks her in a hushed tone.

"You're gonna have to stop fucking asking me that." Deb smirks at him and he marvels again at her strength. After everything he has put her through it is some kind of miracle that she can stand here and smile at him.

An urge out of nowhere finds him leaning down to her, his lips pressing against hers. She stumbles away from him, a questioning look in her eyes. They quickly drop away from him, survey the room.

"They're gonna know something happened with a fucking hole in the mattress." Deb mutters.

Dexter just nods. "I think we got everything. Let's just move the furniture back."

The bed is just back in place when Evelyn appears in the door. "I think everything is cleared downstairs."

"Good." Dexter looks at her. "Let's get you home."

An hour later Deb and Dex watch Vogel wave goodbye from her window. He pulls away from the house and glances at Deb sideways. "I can drop you at home…or you can come to the marina with me…"

Out of the corner of his eye he can see Deb's head turn sharply, her gaze latched onto his profile. At the red light he stops and turns to look at her again. "I'd like you to come with me." He offers uncertainly.

"Why?" He is surprised that she doesn't look angry or disturbed, merely curious.

"I don't know…I guess I just don't want to take you home yet."

"Ok" Deb whispers. She turns her gaze away from him and out the window and he feels like she has gone somewhere else, to a place he can't touch.

They are quiet even while she helps him take the bags from the trunk and places them on the boat. And she still seems lost in her own world when she watches him dump them into the black water. When it's done he takes a seat next to her, watches her take a deep breath as her eyes slide closed.

"I still remember the first time dad took us fishing." She opens her eyes and looks over at him, a soft smile playing on her lips. "I hated that fucking smell. I still do." Deb chuckles. "I swear I can still smell that shit, the fish guts. But somehow I don't mind it right now." She gives him a meaningful look that he's not entirely sure he understands.

She looks lost in thought again, her gaze cast off the opposite side of the boat, staring at the illuminated water from the full moon. "Why'd you bring me here Dex?"

He frowns in her direction, but she still looks away from him. "I didn't want to be alone."

"But you usually do this alone." She suggests quietly.

"Yes. But I've always done a lot of things alone. And now…I guess I don't as much."

"So you prefer not to do things alone?" Deb still won't look at him and he still has this feeling she is not quite there with him.

"I don't know. I haven't really thought about it yet." He tells her uncertainly. "I guess it's easier having company in some ways."

"Easier to mop up the blood?" Deb turns towards him and smirks, her eyes shining in the moonlight. "Are you going to bring me with you again?"

He stares at her for a long time, not sure how to answer, not sure what he wants or what she needs. "Would you want me to?" He finally asks.

He sees it then, a tear sliding down her cheek, another close behind. "No." She says it quietly, resigned.

"But if I asked you? If I needed you?" He thinks he gets it now and he can feel himself holding his breath as he waits for her to respond.

She looks at him sadly and he can feel himself break a little. "I could never say no."

He realizes then that she will never really be ok. He can't look at her any longer and he finds his eyes looking towards the water, trying not to see the damage he has inflicted on her.

"Sometimes I can't believe I still love you." She says this in a low voice and it drifts over to him so quietly that it could almost be a figment of his imagination.

"But you hate me too?" He's afraid to ask, but he still knows he deserves it.

"Maybe. I guess. Fuck. Who knows?" Despite this, Deb scoots closer to him. He can feel her chin resting on his shoulder and turns tentatively in her direction. Her eyes have a haunted quality as they stare back at him. "Why did you kiss me?"

For once he says the first thing that pops into his addled brain. "I wanted to."

"Hmm." Deb closes her eyes, leans into him further. "Are we always going to be this fucked up?"

"Probably." Dexter half jokes, smiles over at Deb. She opens her eyes and smirks back at him.

"As long as we know…" She teases back, a sad note beneath her tone.

Dex leans over, places a kiss on the top of her head. "I can live with it if you can."

Deb sighs softly. "I don't think I have a choice."