A new beginning, o the beginning of the end?

By: Debster'sDarkPassenger

Beginning A/N:

I think the last chapter was a success. I tried to make a good adult scene and avoid too much smut, and I hope everyone liked it. The story hasn't really started rolling yet, but the last chapter was named "The calm before the storm" after all. Hope everyone likes this one. Please read and review, thanks.

Chapter 3: How did this happen?

Something is bouncing on Dexter's legs. He blearily bats an arm at it, hoping it will stop. Whatever it is exclaims in surprise, but stops bouncing. He sighs softly as he begins to sleep again, feeling Deb pressed against him.

Suddenly the bouncing started again, accompanied by the sound of a phone ringing. Dexter jerks awake suddenly, startling Debra awake as well. He opens his eyes to see Harrison bouncing on his legs, waving his no longer ringing phone in his face.

"Good morning Harrison," he says tiredly, "Aren't you up early huh."

"Your phone started ringing daddy, it started ringing and ringing and ringing and I brought it to you," he says cheerfully, excited that he could help his dad answer the phone.

"Thanks buddy," Dexter replies, trying to sound proud, "You did well."

"Thanks daddy," he says as he begins to hop off the bed. He barely stands when he sees Deb peeking at him from under the covers. "AUNTY DEB!" He exclaims joyously as he hops over to give her his biggest hug through the covers.

"Hey there kiddo!" she says, somehow managing to sound excited.

"Were you hiding to surprise me Aunty Deb," he asks. Suddenly, he remembers what day it is and shouts "Happy New Year!"

"No buddy," she replies uncomfortably, "I was just tired from the new years party and fell asleep."

"Ok Aunty Deb," he says, slightly crestfallen. Seeing his look of dismay she tells him, "Give me a minute kiddo and I'll make you some pancakes."

"PANCAKES!" he yells, full of excitement as he rushes to the kitchen, promising to get everything ready as he goes.

"Wow, when did he start talking like that?"

"Preschool," replies Dexter as he flips through his missed calls, suddenly intent. She sees his expression change and is instantly sobered by his look.

"What is…"

"Angel, Quinn, Dispatch, and Mathews have all left messages…a lot of messages. I think they…" he trails off, knowing she understands.

"Shitfuck, call them back. Could you keep him occupied while I get dressed?" she says with a nod towards the open bedroom door.

He nods as he dials the most recent number on his phone, Angel's. He hears the ringing on the other end of the line as he throws on a shirt and shoes, planning on a shower later. As he leaves the bedroom, he looks back to see Deb looking at him. He mouths a quick "I love you" before closing the door softly behind him.

He walks to the kitchen, telling Harrison he'll be there to help with pancakes in a moment. He notes the time, 7:23, as he steps out onto his balcony. He hears the phone being answered, and doesn't have time to say hello before his ears are overwhelmed by a sobbing Angel.

"Dexter," he says, his accent thick with pain, "I've been trying to reach you and Debra for an hour."

"Wha-"

"It's Maria, she's been killed. She and Estradda are dead," he sobs, "We need you two down here as fast as you can."

"Alright, where are you?" he asks.

"Down at the shipping docks, you can't miss us. Every Uni in Miami is down here."

"We're on our way, we'll be there in about an hour," he assures the grieving man.

"Thanks Dexter."

He turns and goes inside, thinking he will have to skip the shower for the time being. As he walks in, his eyes flick to the still closed bedroom door before turning his gaze back to the kitchen. He lets out a slightly amused chuckle as he sees his son struggle to reach the pancake mix at the top of the pantry.

"Harrison," he says, forcing a smile, "I'll help you."

He grabs the pancake mix, syrup, and three plates from the shelves and sets them on the counter. He turns to the fridge, grabbing the milk and orange juice and a pan from the nearby cabinet.

"Thank-you daddy," Harrison says as he reaches for the mix.

"Not so fast Harrison," he snaps before relaxing, "we have to wait for Aunt Deb."

"Ok daddy," Harrison replies, voice downcast.

"Daddy has to go to work today," He says.

"Whyyyy!?" wails Harrison.

"Some bad guy did some bad things."

"Like what?"

He is spared from having to form a reply as Debra comes out of the bedroom, dressed in a spare set of work clothes she keeps here in case of emergencies. She certainly does have a lot of clothes here. He thinks to himself as he takes her in. She looks good in blue. Ugh, why am I thinking about that at a time like this? She moves to the kitchen as Harrison turns around and sees her.

"AUNTY DEB!" he exclaims as she grabs him in a hug, "Can we make pancakes?"

"Sure kiddo," she replies cheerfully, Dexter can tell it's forced, but Harrison takes it as genuine as he reaches for the mix. She looks into his eyes, asking that one unspoken question: LaGuerta? He simply nods.

"Let's make this fast then kiddo."

"Ok."

Half an hour and a spilled glass of milk later, and Dexter has left Harrison with a neighbor for the day, promising generous pay for the trouble. Dexter and Debra rocket down the street towards the shipping docks, using Debra's plug-in police light to clear traffic.

"You got that out of my car?"

"Yes."

"Where is my car?"

"It's at your house."

They say nothing the rest of the drive. They pull up to the police line at what remains of the front gate, taking notice of the dozens of uniformed officers milling around and keeping back bystanders. They look at each other and silently agree to follow each other's lead before masking their emotions. She learned how to do that quickly, he thinks, I just wish she never had to.

Together the two of them step out of his SUV and move towards the crime scene. As the officers move to stop them, she flashes her badge and he flashes his laminate. The three officers all step aside and one holds the tape up for them as they rush forward towards the group of familiar faces near one container. As they reach the gathering, they don't have time to speak, or even properly stop walking before Angel rushes forward and captures them both in a bear hug.

"Thank you so much for coming," he says as he sobs into their shoulders, "Gracias friends, gracias."

"It's Ok angel," Deb says, rubbing his back in sympathy, "what happened?"

"It's Maria, sh-…she's been…she's been murdered," he finally sobs out.

As he releases them from his hug, he tearfully says, "Please help me catch the bastard responsible," before turning away.

They both look at each other before rushing towards the container with the most activity. As they near the container, Debra is intercepted by Quinn while Dexter gets blocked by Mathews. As Quinn moves Deb aside for a private word, Mathews begins talking to Dexter.

"Dexter, I know you and Maria had your problems, but I want you to do your absolute best job in there, ok?"

"I will. Damn, I was hoping to speak to her today and patch things up between us. Maybe set aside our differences and make a new start for the New Year or something."

"You have no idea how relieved I am to hear that Dexter," he replies, "Although I don't think it would have worked. Even though we proved Doakes was guilty, she still thought…well, let's not get into all that, your heart was in the right place, that's all that matters. And since when do you swear?" he asks, suddenly curious.

"Since today, Debra made me promise to swear more this year, away from Harrison of course, she said something about people not believing we're related," he lies easily. And who knows, It might could be a way for us to connect more.

"I believe it," he chuckles softly before sobering again, "Now you just get in there and do the best damn job you can ok."

"You got it."

Dexter collects Deb, who has finished her conversation with Quinn. As they move towards the container, he pulls his bag more securely onto his shoulder and looks at her.

"I'll tell you later."

He nods as they move inside the container to find Masuka and Miller already inside. Debra covers her mouth and whirls around, shaking upon seeing LaGuerta's body. Nice touch he thinks though she may not be faking.

"What have we got?" he asks.

"LaGuerta and Estradda, both deceased, gunshot wounds apparently," Says Masuka in a businesslike voice. For once, no wisecracks, or is he just hung-over. Vince does seem to have a headache.

"They both had guns in their hands," Miller throws in, "rounds missing from her magazine and his cylinders, casings found seem to match, although we would need to perform a ballistics test to be sure."

Dexter nods silently and bends to set his bag in a corner, retrieving his camera before turning back towards the scene. He begins his meticulous examination, commenting his results as he goes.

"Large spray patterns and slight spurting on this wall indicate that Estradda was shot once while standing. There appear to be two gunshot wounds in his chest, and the pooling would suggest that he was shot again after having collapsed. Judging by the amount of pooled blood, he may have been moving as he lay here. Angle of the wounds may have allowed the rounds to hit his spine, paralyzing him from the point of impact and below. Tissue damage seems consistent with a .45 ACP bullet. If the coagulation patterns are consistent, as they appear to be, then both rounds hit him within seconds."

He glances up at Masuka to see him nodding his agreement before moving on to LaGuerta.

"LaGuerta seems to have been shot with a higher caliber weapon, likely a large revolver, from a downward angle. The spray and spatter patterns on the ceiling and roof suggest that the bullet may have been deflected internally. Exit wound is inconsistent with the angle of the entry wound, this is evidence of deflection. The pooling patterns show that her heart was not beating at the time of collapse, which suggest she was killed almost instantly."

"So, LaGuerta and Estradda meet here for some reason, maybe LaGuerta wants him locked up again, he disagrees. He pulls his gun and LaGuerta does the same. She gets her shot off first, causing him to go down. She trains her weapon on him, perhaps planning an arrest. He quickly raises his weapon and fires once, killing her instantly or near-instantly. She pulls her trigger by reflex or muscle spasm, causing her weapon to shoot him again."

"That sounds pretty accurate to me," Masuka replies, "although I was thinking that maybe she shot him twice. I wouldn't have thought of reflex."

"Were there any witnesses," Dexter asks cautiously.

"Yeah, one. Blind homeless man trying to fish says he heard 3 gunshots. No other witnesses; and he obviously didn't see anything. I wander how he could fish."

"Alright then, I'll uh, I'll go tell Angel."

"Amigo," Angel calls as soon as I exit the container, Deb on my heels, apparently he was waiting for me, "What can you tell me?"

"It seems Estradda pulled his gun, but LaGuerta was faster. After she shot him once, she didn't think he was a threat, but…After Estradda….she got another shot off by reflex."

"Are you sure it was him, maybe…"

"I'm sure. Angel, I know LaGuerta and I weren't on the best of terms for the past few weeks, but I was going to try to make things right, only now…now all I can do to make it right is do my best job to find out the truth."

"Thanks Amigo," Angel says, tears running down his cheeks, "but you'll check again right? Just to be sure."

"Yes Angel," Deb cuts in, "just…can you give us a moment please, we still can't believe it."

"I understand, and thanks."

They move off away from the others, passing stunned officers and investigators as they make their way to the far end of the docks, near the waterfront.

"Fuck Dexter, what are we going to do?"

"Nothing, We'll just do our jobs. Masuka and Miller thought the two shot each other also, we're clear."

"Ok Ok, I'm, just nervous is all. I need a beer."

"I'll get you some on the way home, my place or yours?"

"Yours, I don't feel like climbing mount fucking laundry."

"Ok, by the way, what was Quinn talking about? He seemed agitated."

"He said he wanted to meet up, said he had some things he wanted to get off his chest about his days in narcotics, and something about that Nadia woman he met during our investigation after Mike's death."

"Alright, we should head back now. I'll go over the scene a few more times for Angel's benefit, you see if you can find any more witnesses."

"You want me to find witnesses?"

"Yes, and alter their stories if you find any. And try not to act too normal for today."

"Fine, you're the expert on acting fake emotions. Shit Dex, where did you learn that anyway? Dad was never any fucking good at masking his emotions, not like this. Even when mom was sick, he would try…and do a piss poor fucking job."

"I don't really know. I kinda remember seeing some doctor about it, but the memories are distant and fuzzy. We should head back now."

They made their way back towards the crime scene, stopping just out of sight to exchange a small kiss.

"See you in a few hours," he says huskily.

"Can't wait."

They both move back into the chaos, unaware of the man watching with binoculars, knife in his boot.

Several hours later, Dexter, Masuka, and Miller went over the scene again and again, even going so far as to call techs from a the crime lab of neighboring collier county, but the only came to the same conclusion. Debra attempted to chase down any witnesses, but only found the one blind witness, Francesco, who confirmed his story of hearing three gunshots and nothing else. When asked why he hadn't called the police at the time, he claimed he didn't own a cell phone. His claim was corroborated by his family. No other witnesses were around, not surprising considering the time of death was estimated to be around 11:00 PM the night before, while most people were at one New Year's party or another.

She did happen upon a few street thugs buying drugs from a previously unknown dealer; these were arrested and sent to MMPD for booking.

As they began to pack their supplies, they stood aside with the others as the coroner took the bodies to the morgue, Angel riding along, All of the uniformed officers and detectives saluted Maria's body as it passed, as well as the lab techs, and spat on Estrada's, something that didn't bother Dexter in the least. Better than he deserves, He should be in bits, floating along the Gulf Stream by now, Thought Dexter.

Dexter and Debra began to make their way towards his SUV; but they are sidetracked by Mathews, now wearing a detective's badge.

"Thanks for taking the time to come out here," he said to them, but focusing on Dexter, "It would have made Maria feel better to know you still cared enough to find the truth even after what she did."

Except the truth is that Debra shot her, and I'm the reason it happened.

"Good to know, I just wish we could have patched things up before, I feel so guilty that she died before we could," said Dexter.

"She wasn't the best boss," said Debra, "but she didn't deserve this. We should be able to do more. I almost wish he had gotten away so that we could hunt him down."

"Well, anyway, it's been a long day, go home and get some rest. Maria's funeral services will be soon. You both look really tired, take the week off, I'll call if we need you."

"You're captain now?" Debra asks, noticing his new badge properly for the first time.

"Yeah, they wanted you Deb, but you haven't taken the captain's exam so…" he trails off, "Besides, I'm only here till I can get my forty year pension, so you should take that exam. Anyway, go home and rest, we'll talk in a week."

Together, they hopped into Dexter's SUV and pulled away from the crime scene, driving back toward his apartment lethargically. Neither has much to say, each lost in their thoughts.

As they finally clear the area of the last patrol cars, Deb lets out a sigh of relief.

"Dex, I can't believe how that went."

"Same here," he says.

"Dexter, you see how risky that is; you have to lay low for awhile."

"Deb, I-"

"You HAVE to," she says with an emphasis on her words.

"Deb, I've decided to try to stop."

"No, Dex I- What?"

"I think I can quit. My whole life has been spent trying to make the world right, and after killing Estradda, I feel like I can finally do that. I realized how my actions were also hurting innocents and…" he stops, not sure how to continue.

"Dexter, I…I'm proud of you."

"Thanks," he mumbles.

"Let's head home, and talk some more."

"Yeah, we have a lot to talk about."

The drive back to Dexter's apartment seemed to pass in a blur, as each was absorbed in their thoughts, trying to figure out what to say to the other. They stop by Deb's house for a moment so that she can pack some clothes and get her car before they continue on to the apartment. They pull into the small parking area near the apartment together and happen to find spaces next to each other. They get out and grab their bags, Dexter rushing to help Debra with hers.

"Dex, I've got it," she complains, "I don't need help."

He overrides her protests as he grabs the largest bag before rushing away and up the stairs, keys in hand. She watches him go with a small smile of amusement before muttering "Fucking sneak" as she scoops the rest of her bags into her arms, closing and locking her sedan as she rushes to catch him. She rushes up behind him as they near the apartment, expecting to dart past him and into the apartment, however, he has stopped in his tracks, causing her to run into him and fall backwards, dropping her bags in the process.

"What the fuck Dex?"

He says nothing, just pointing towards his door. She peeks between his legs to see a single spotted orchid outside his door.

"What about it," she asks.

"Hannah," is all he says. It's all he needs to say.

"Shit, let's go ahead and get inside then. And we're ordering take-out."

He only nods as he opens the apartment to let her in, carefully skirting the plant as he moves for the dropped bags. As they go inside, he leaves Deb's bags by his desk as he pulls out his phone. He dials the number for the babysitter, he asks her to watch Harrison tonight and tomorrow, and after several "pleases" and a promise of a large bonus, she agrees. Meanwhile, Debra has unpacked and stashed her things in his guest room before excavating his kitchen for a take-out menu. Not finding one, she grabs her keys, telling him "We'll talk when I get back," before heading out to get them some food. And probably some beer too he thinks.

Hannah's out of Prison. This is not good.

"She's resourceful son; you knew that when you met her," Harry says from the armchair, "what do you think she'll do?"

"I don't know," Dexter replies, "probably go after Deb when she finds out…"

"About that," Harry says, expression suddenly intense, "what the hell do you think you're doing?"

"I…I don't know, it's all confused."

"That's the most human thing I've ever heard you say. And at least you're honest. Do you love her?"

"Yes"

"You do, but can you? Can you love her without wanting to change her, without bringing her down? Can you tame the monster for her?"

"Yes, I have to."

Harry nods, apparently satisfied with Dexter's replies.

Of course he's satisfied; he only comes from my mind after all.

"I'm surprised you're not angry," Dexter says, "I thought you might be."

"I should be, perhaps would be if…" he trails off.

"If what?"

"If I hadn't seen it coming years ago. When I first brought you home, and the two of you saw each other for the first time…" he trails off again, appearing lost in thought, before continuing, "When you two saw each other for the first time, I was worried you would hate each other," he chuckles, "but instead, you two ran and hugged the moment we let you go."

"I don't remember that."

"Of course you don't, you were three. Anyway, since then, you two have been nearly inseparable, always running to each other with your problems or fears. Most children run to their parents when they have a nightmare or something, you two ran to each other. Doris saw it too, she would be happy to know you two are in love, although how she would react to…" he trails off again, giving Dexter a pointed look.

Dexter thinks back through his years as a Morgan and can tell it's true. They always did feel safe together, like they could do anything in the world. He doesn't know what to say.

"No, Dexter, I'm not angry. I hope, for both your sakes, you can keep yourself under control."

"I think I can stop," Dexter says, enjoying the look of shock on Harry's face

"Stop, are you sure? I tried everything, the doctor and I both did. After all these years, what makes you think you can stop now."

"Deb"

Harry says nothing, he just sits and looks at Dexter for several minutes before saying, "Stop, for Deb? I believe it." He looks out of the window, craning his neck to see from his chair, "She's back."

Dexter moves to the window to see out, sure enough, Debra is getting out of her car, carrying several bags. He turns back to say something to Harry, only to see he is gone. Gone, just like that. If only my Dark Passenger were so easy to lose.

He waits patiently for Deb to reach his door before he rushes over to open it, letting her inside along with a small flood of plastic bags. She sets them all on the counter and looks at him pointedly until he closes the door and moves to grab plates.

"Hope you like Burger King," she says, "It was the only fucking thing open."

"It's fine," he says, putting two burgers on his plate, and two on hers. She opens another bag and pulls two beers out of it before stashing the rest of the bags in the fridge.

Did she get food? Probably nothing but beer, Dexter thinks as he grabs one and leads her to his living room. Together they drop onto his couch, mouths already full of food. He reaches for the remote, but Deb beats him to it and flicks on the TV. The first channel on the screen is the local news station covering LaGuerta's death. They get a brief glimpse of themselves at the crime scene before the channel is hastily turned. After several minutes of channel flipping, they settle on an HBO show about thrones. The description doesn't mention much, just something about a wedding.

The show seems good, but their minds keep wandering. Both thinking about the other, their close proximity becoming more and more prominent in their thoughts. After a few minutes, Deb breaks the silence first.

"Dexter, what are we going to do?"

"Do about what?"

"This, Us." She says, gesturing between them.

"I haven't really thought about it."

"Well you better start. Last night you killed someone, I killed someone, we almost fucked, and today, we both lied our fucking brains out about all of it."

"Well, the lying will probably have to continue, at least, about the killing part. The almost part though…I don't know."

"Do you want to stop?"

"No! I mean…I….Do you?"

"No, I don't. I meant what I said last night."

"So did I."

"And what's this about trying to stop?"

"I'll deal with it."

"You better not be lying."

"I'm not."

"I know it won't be right away, bu-…"

"It's ok Deb, I'll deal with it."

"Ok then," she says with a yawn, "I'm too tired anyway."

Just then he realizes that they've eaten all their food, emptied their beers, and that night has fallen.

"Come on, let's go to bed. Just bed."

He nods before turning off the TV. He walks into the bedroom, noticing that Deb has gone into the restroom. So much for that shower, he thinks as he kicks off his shoes and strips for sleep. He slides under the covers in nothing but boxers and night pants, and just manages to get settled when Deb comes out of the restroom, dressed much the same as the night before, albeit wearing longer night shorts.

"Like what you see?" she asks playfully. He realizes he is staring and quickly looks away.

"Yes."

She says nothing as she gets under the covers next to him, pressing herself against his body. He wraps one arm around her to pull her closer, reveling in the feel of her body against his.

"Are we going to fast?" she asks, voice tinged with worry.

"No," he replies, "but we can take it more slowly if you want."

"It's just, what will we tell everyone?"

"Why not the truth?"

Her eyes widen as he speaks. "Tell them the truth? What will people think?"

"What will people think if they find out on their own?"

"Who gives a fuck?"

"Exactly."

She chuckles softly before nodding against him. She runs her hands up his chest.

"Goodnight," she says, kissing his cheek.

"Goodnight," he replies as the both fall into a deep sleep.

Ending A/N

Phew, that one was about double the length of the previous chapters. I hope I didn't overdo or under do any of it. I wanted this chapter to cover Dexter's cover up of LaGuerta's death. At the point after they left the scene, I am reasonably sure that they both are going to try to move on and act normal. As far as Debra not becoming a total train wreck over it, well, she now knows that Dexter returns her feelings in the same way, and she's hoping that it might go somewhere. Dexter's statement that he may be able to stop also went a long way toward helping her not break down. I think that since he more or less became a serial killer after his mother's death, that finally killing Estradda, the last man left who is responsible, as well as his and Deb's feelings for each other should be enough to give him cause to stop killing…over time.

You may be thinking that they ought to be more worried about Hannah than they are, or at least Deb should, but at the moment, they have the bigger issue of their feelings for each other. I'll cover more Hannah worries in the next chapter, as well as let Quinn and Masuka have more prominence. Angel won't be around much early on, but we'll gradually see more.

To those of you who noticed the Man watching them while they were at the crime scene, it's not what you think...at least not entirely. Also, I don't know if anyone noticed the Game of Thrones reference in there. It may be chronologically inaccurate, but it's supposed to be the red wedding episode. I wanted to make a subtle allusion to how love can cause harm later. If you're not aware of how it's supposed to make sense, just know that Robb stark loved the girl, then watch the episode.

Please read and review. Sorry if this chapter wasn't up to expectations, my writing classes have told me to write "from the heart" and so far it seems to be working. I'm also in the market for beta reader, so if anyone is interested, please send me a message, thanks.

Until next time,

Debster'sDarkPassenger.