Disclaimer: I don't own Dexter or Deb. (damm)
!SEASON TWO SPOILER ALERT!
Debra Morgan sat across the table from her brother and staired, trying to figure out how she had missed something this big, this important. Even thought Dexter had been adopted, she had spent most of her life with him, and yet, this personal revilation blindsided her. Deb was no fool, and she had seen her brother's reaction to the discovery of the massive underwater graveyard. He had been scared, and Deb had never seen that expression cross her brother's face, ever. Not once during the Ice Truck Killer investigations (execpt for that one time at the hotel), not even when he was standing above her, her 'boyfriend' ready to slice her open, just like all the others. No, she had never see Dexter truly afraid. And at every crime scene they had ever processed together, she had felt that Dex had disgust for the killers, as if they had committed a sort of blasphemy towards the true art of killing. And yet the one memory that sealed it for Deb, was the look on Dex's face when he had seen the body displayed on the ice by the ITK. It had been as if God had come down and granted him that sight, the awe on her brother's face was unmistakable to her now.
"Deb?" Deb blinked slowly, coming out of her thoughts at the sound of Dex calling her name.
"Yeah Dex?" Deb took a giant swallow of her beer, trying to calm her frayed nerves. Dexter shrugged.
"You just stopped talking. What's up?" Deb staired into De's cold, dead eyes, shivering at the sight. How could she have missed this?