A/N: this chapter is much more straight forward than the last one :)

Prompt: Acting normal for a third party

She's not sure if she can breathe. The panic is setting in, her lungs are seizing, her stomach roils. She might be sick on this very spot and she hasn't even crossed the yellow police tape yet.

"Deb, we have to go." Dexter urges. His grip tightens on her elbow as he attempts to pull her forward. "Deb." He says again, and this time she moves, ducks under the tape and walks forward in a daze.

"Good." Dexter tells her as they move through the milling crowd of police officers, detectives and lab rats. "Just like we talked about. Fifteen minutes and you can leave." She can barely register what he is saying. She's too busy trying to stop herself from breaking down, dropping to her knees and crying out her guilt.

They are still 20 yards from the dreaded shipping container when she stops dead in her tracks. Dexter stops with her too, his eyes following her gaze until he sees what gave her pause: Angel.

He sees them too and the sight of people he trusts, the ones he can lean on, causes him to suddenly break down. "Deb, Dex" He calls over the crowd to them and then moves clumsily between the bodies until they are face to face and Debra has nowhere to go. He pulls her into a hug and sobs onto her shoulder. "He killed her! That fucking bastard killed Maria!"

Deb can sense Dexter relaxing, knowing that the story they carefully setup last night is already working. But all she really cares about is that the man that is like a brother to her, that is a better brother than Dexter could ever be, is clinging to her in despair. This was already harder than she could have imagined, already more impossible than she thought it would be. As Angel continues to cry she knows there is only one way to fix it.

Angel pulls back finally and looks from Deb to Dex, "I just can't believe it's come to this. I can't believe she's gone."

Deb can't hold it in any longer. "Angel, I'm sorry. I-"

"We're really sorry. Maria was a good cop." Dexter interjects before Deb can say anymore. He grabs onto her elbow again. "We should really go and wrap this up. They're waiting on us."

"Yes, please. Let's get this closed fast for Maria's sake." Angel nods as he rubs his palms against his wet cheeks. "Thanks for being there." He nods at them both and gives Deb's hand a squeeze before walking away.

Dexter quickly pulls her forward again as he leans in. "What are you doing?" He chastises. "You heard him. They already believe the arrangement, we just have to wrap this up and we're done."

Deb finally turns and looks at him. "Fuck you." She yanks her arm away and moves forward ahead of him, determinedly entering the shipping container. The metallic smell of blood hits her squarely as she walks in, stronger now that the shipping container has sat under the hot Miami sun. She gags on the stench as it hits the back of her throat and rolls down her tongue.

"You ok, LT?" Masuka's voice is unusually somber and he hands her a mask which does little to block the smell. He nods at Dexter as he follows her in then turns his sad gaze back to Deb. "Seems pretty straightforward, but Dex will be able to tell us for sure."

Deb summons her courage and looks past Masuka, to the lamp-lit depths of the container and the blood stained sheet covering Maria's body. One hand lays exposed, the blood congealed around it and Deb stares at the gaudy bracelet around the limp wrist and thinks of the time LaGuerta put that damn necklace on her. She blinks back tears and averts her gaze as Dexter pulls the sheet away to inspect the body.

"It's ok to wait outside." Masuka gently suggests as he awkwardly pats her arm. "This isn't easy for any of us." Her eyes catch Dexter's and she thinks how wrong Masuka is before she nods, mumbles her thanks and walks back into the fresh air and sunlight.

But there's no reprieve to have even away from the darkness and death. It seems like all eyes are on her as she moves quickly away from the container, ducking behind another one so she can find a moment of peace. She can still feel the tears welling behind her eyes, the lump in her throat that she can't swallow down. She's done it now; she's no better than he is.

Truth be told, she had seen this moment coming. And he had tried to warn her, hadn't he? To leave things alone, to let him handle it. Why hadn't she listened then? And now it was too fucking late. What had she done?

"Deb?"

She nearly jumps out of her skin, spinning to face Dexter, "FUCK!" Deb bends over, pushes the heels of her hands into her forehead and grunts. She stands straight again and looks at her brother angrily, "Don't fucking do that shit. Fucking sneaking up on me."

Dexter sighs, "Deb, you need to calm down-"

"Calm down!? Are you fucking kidding me?! After what happened-"

"Deb! Jesus…there are people everywhere." Dexter hushes.

Deb emits a barking sort of laugh that sounds more like a sob, her eyes tearing up as she shakes her head. "I can't. I just can't fucking do this."

Dexter sighs again, but before he can attempt to reassure her they are interrupted.

"LT?" Masuka appears seemingly out of nowhere; emerging from the other side of the container they stand behind.

"Fuck!" Deb turns away frustrated and barely hanging on to her tentative agreement with Dexter to not confess. She spits out "What?"

"They're looking for you. The uh….higher ups…They want you to make the statement." His news is met with a tense silence before Dexter turns towards him with a nod.

"She just needs a minute. Tell them she's coming."

Masuka nods in agreement, going back the way he came, leaving the Morgans alone once more.

"Why don't you fucking go and make the goddamn statement?" Deb asks with a gravelly voice. "I can't do this shit Dex."

He can clearly hear the pain in her voice and steps behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders and pressing his lips against her hair. He leans his forehead against her head and whispers in her ear. "We're almost there Deb. Just a little bit more. Then we can put this behind us."

He can feel her droop under his grasp, as if he has pressed a button to deflate her tension. "Just say what we practiced. Slowly and calmly. Then we can go home."

He pulls her body back against his and places a kiss against her temple, one of his arms wrapping around her waist. "I'll be right there with you." He reassures her.

Deb turns back towards him, her lips finding his, her arms settling around his shoulders. It can't last long with the noise of their co-workers mere yards away. She pulls away regretfully and takes a deep breath. The lump is still in her throat, the tears ready to spill forth. But she feels stronger than she should in this moment. She feels ready to go out there and lie, if not for herself then at least for him.

They share only a long gaze before she walks purposefully back towards the crowd, Dexter just behind her. Deb shakes hands with the brass, walks with them to the bank of cameras and scrambling reporters. When she steps in front of the microphone she says exactly what Dexter had told her the night before as they lay in the darkness wrapped around each other. And after she's done, when the acting Chief claps her on the back and tells her she'll make a damn good captain very soon she manages a stoic smile and nod.

She walks away from the crowd, back under the police tape, away from the scene of her crime. When they soon give her the new badge, the bigger office, she'll think of how she killed her captain to get there. She climbs back into Dexter's Jeep as he jumps in behind the wheel. Deb stares back towards the chaos they've just left, her eyes following the gurney with the black body bag as it leaves the shipping container. She knows she will never again be the same person. She has irrevocably changed the very core of her being. The knowledge sits heavily on her and she wonders for the hundredth time since that night how she will survive it.

But then she feels Dexter's fingers slide under her palm as it rests on the seat by her thigh. He gives her hand a gentle squeeze and she turns towards him. "The worst is over." He tells her. "Things will be different now. But we have each other."

"Just like always." She quietly replies.

He responds by bringing her hand to his lips and gently kissing it. And in that moment she knows. No matter how much she might regret what she has done, no matter the pain the she feels at the mere thought, if she could go back right now and do it over again she would make the same choice.

So there is no turning back, no going back to being the good cop, the good person. She belongs to him now completely.