Chapter 4

"Boxing Debra"

It's several hours later, back in the bedroom, with Debra. She wakes up in the middle of the night. She gets up to go to the bathroom. She goes to open the bedroom door. She turns the knob. To her surprise the door is unlocked. But after the door is open a crack it stops on something that's on the floor. It's Dexter. He's lying on the floor in front of the door.

"Owe," Dexter says at being hit by the door. He moves out of the way so Debra can open the bedroom door all the way.

"How's the floor?" Debra inquires with great contempt.

"Hard," He replies.

"Good," she spits back at him. She points to the bedroom she just walked out of. She says, "There seems to be some items missing from my belongings."

He asks, "Yes?"

She asks, "You went through my belongings and stole things out of my bags?"

He replies, "Yes."

She says, "Because you think I'm suicidal. Because of the Xanax overdose."

He responds, "Maybe, I dunno. I just don't want to take any chances."

She rolls her eyes, stomps into the bathroom. She slams the door shut behind her.

Dexter knew Debra would find the bathroom far more appealing now than she had earlier this evening. The first thing Dexter did after he locked down the bedroom, was to clean the bathroom thoroughly. He also stocked it with supplies. He felt safe with her in the bathroom. The bathroom window was too small for her to crawl out of. There had been potentially dangerous items in the bathroom originally, but Dexter had long since removed them all. This included razors, pills, cleaning supplies, bleach.

He actually wasn't too uncomfortable on the floor, in the hallway. In addition to his pillow and blanket he put a throw rug under himself. And frankly any precaution that kept Debra out of prison, and not dead, helped him sleep easier.

Dexter hears the shower going. He hopes this cools Debra off. He goes back to sleep.

Twenty minutes later Debra starts to emerge from the bathroom. She's in a T-shirt and sweatpants with her hair wrapped in a decorative towel. The T-shirt, she wears, has her signature pattern on it of course. She tries to open the bathroom door. Again she gets the door open a crack and hits Dexter who's lying on the floor.

"Owe," Dexter says again at being hit by the door.

Debra asks, "Do you have to sleep right up against the door like that?"

He says, "Well I have to sleep sometime don't I?"

She says, "And I'm interrupting your sleep by hitting you with the door."

He says, "Well I have to know the second you're outta the room."

She asks, "Why? So you can watch me step over your body?"

He says, "Yes."

She says, "So you can make sure I don't escape?"

He says, "Yes."

She says, "Because you think I'm going to turn myself in."

He says, "Yes."

She asks, "But you also think I'm going to kill myself."

He says, "Possibly."

She says, "I don't get it. Do you think I'm gonna turn myself in or kill myself. Because I don't think I can do both. You're being ridiculous."

He says, "I'm not sure what you're going to do. I just don't wanna take any chances."

She says, "You know life in prison sounds better than what happened to LaGuerta."

Dexter asks, "Do you think you deserve the same fate as LaGuerta?" He thinks back to Debra's Xanax overdose. He distinctly remembers pounding on her chest as she lay, not breathing, on her living room floor.

Debra sits on the floor across from Dexter, facing him. She says, "I keep telling you Dex, I'm not going to hand myself over to the police and I certainly don't think I deserve to die."

Dexter says, "You said the police were the good guys, unlike me. You were disgusted to learn of my past indiscretions. You kept trying so hard to get away from me."

Debra says, "Well I was kinda surprised my own brother was kidnapping me. And I had quite the rude awakenings tonight. And not just because I learned more about your kills. I mean, remembering everything that happened in the gas station bathroom when we were kids. God, do you blame me for freaking out about all that?"

Dexter says, "It's not that I blame you. I'm just worried that's all. I just don't want anything bad to happened. I'm afraid something will go wrong and it'll be all my fault. I can't afford to make anymore mistakes."

Debra gets up and sits down beside him. She smiles and says, "Nothings going to go wrong." She holds his hand. "Oh, not with my big brother here to protect me."

Dexter looks at Debra suspiciously. This was quite the change of attitude from earlier this evening. He wondered. Was she pulling his leg? Did she have an ulterior motive?

He says, "That's good to hear I guess." He looks her up and down, scrutinizing her.

"You know Dexter," she continued, "Ever since I was a kid I always felt this sense of safety around you. Like whenever I was afraid I felt compelled to be close to you. And then when I was close to you I suddenly felt better. Like whenever something went wrong in my life I kept moving in with you. Like after what happened with your brother Brian."

Dexter says, "Well I'm just glad I could be there for you."

Debra says, "Actually it's funny watching you sleep on the floor like this. You wouldn't believe what this reminds me of."

He asks, "What does this remind you of?"

Debra says, "When I was a kid, since I was nine years old actually..." she tilts her head and raises her eyebrows at him, "I always had these nightmares. I would wake up in the middle of the night terrified. But, upon waking, I'd never remember what these nightmares were about."

Dexter asks, "Do you remember what these nightmares were about now?"

Debra wags her finger at him, "I'll get to that part of the story later. Well anyway, after one of these nightmares I'd be afraid to be alone. Most kids in that position would crawl into bed with their parents."

Dexter says, "But you didn't do that."

Debra says, "No I didn't."

Dexter asks, "Then what did you do?"

Debra says, "Well I would grab my pillow and blanket... " she then literally grabs Dexter's pillow and blanket that's on the floor, "and I would sneak into your room and curl up on the floor." She lightly hits his shoulder with the back of her hand and says, "Actually you never even knew I was there."

Dexter smiles and says, "Ahh... I always knew you were there. You always woke me up when the door would screech open. I just pretended to stay asleep."

Debra laughs, "What? But I heard you snoring."

Dexter says, "I was pretending to snore. Didn't you notice how my door let out this awful screech whenever you opened it."

Debra says, "I thought you were a sound sleeper."

Dexter says, "Oh gimme a break. Who'd sleep through that noise?"

Debra says, "Well, you never said anything."

Dexter shrugs and says, "I figured you didn't want me to know."

Debra says, "Oh, anyway." She shakes her head, "Tonight, in that gas station bathroom, I finally remembered what the nightmares were about."

Dexter says, "So they were about you being raped and me killing your rapist."

Debra says, "Yes, they were about you rescuing me. That's why I always had this sense of 'safety around you.'" She makes quotation marks in the air.

Dexter says, "Oh, I see." He nods.

Debra continues, "Well do you remember how a couple of years ago I was seeing a psychiatrist. Her name was Dr. Michelle Ross."

Dexter says, "Yah, because of the shooting at the restaurant. You shot and apprehended some maniac there. He was shooting up the restaurant."

Debra says, "Well I started seeing a Dr. Ross because of it. I told Michelle about how you're adopted and about how I always had this feeling of 'safety around you.' She asked me, 'Where does this feeling come from?' and I told her, 'I don't know.' I couldn't explain, at the time, why I felt that way. In the end the shrink had me convinced that I was in love with my own brother."

Dexter says, "Oh, I see... " He pauses to think about this. "Well I'm glad to hear that. When you told me you were in love me I was surprised. I know I'm adopted, but in my heart I always felt like I was really your brother in every way."

Debra says, "Do you remember when I was helping LaGuerta investigate the Bay Harbor Butcher cases?"

Dexter says, "LaGuerta came up with a list of people that fit my victim profile."

Debra says, "That's right. Remember Phillip Barns, he was a wedding photographer you killed?"

Dexter says, "Yah."

Debra says, "Well LaGuerta and I talked to Barn's son, Tye."

Dexter says, "I see."

Debra says, "Well Tye Barns said how his father beat him, and his mother, Patricia, all the time. Tye told us that May 19th, 2007 was the best day of his life. It was the day his father disappeared.'"

Dexter says, "Oh good."

Debra says, "Well that got me thinking. About all the good you've done by killing all those bad people. How the effect of that can cascade on infinitely. How that saves, perhaps, an extraordinary number of good people who will go on to do good things. Lets say perhaps, if somehow, you could of killed Trinity back when he was a young man. That would be, what, a hundred plus lives that would be spared. And that's just in you only killing one person. You killed over a hundred bad people. Surely some of them were going to mount up quite a body count. I mean, isn't it worth it all. Just thinking of the sheer number of lives saved, all the good that it does."

Dexter says, "That's true."

Debra says, "I don't think that your life, or my life, or even LaGuerta's life, really matters. Not when compared to saving hundreds, if not thousands, of lives, in your lifetime. You have to make saving that vast number of lives the priority, even over saving your life. Otherwise, how can you call yourself human, being so selfish. I think the most important thing is you to continue your work. I think we should go to Mexico, and even travel the world, continuing your work. The world will always have an infinite number of bad people in it. The law, of course, will never be able to save all the good people from all the bad people. Everyone should try to make the world a better place. But you, in particular, have the extraordinary ability to do a great amount of good. So hows 'bout it? Lets leave for Mexico tomorrow." She claps her hands together.

Dexter looks at her tearfully and says, "Oh Deb, I'm so glad to hear you say that. I didn't even think of it all that way. Yes, lets leave for Mexico tomorrow."

Debra smiles and says, "Great." She hugs him. "You know Dexter, I know siblings are known for fighting, but I've always considered you my closest and dearest friend."

Dexter agrees and says, "I feel the same way. We definitely are the best of friends."

She says, "I don't know about you Dexter but I've gotten enough sleep. It's almost dawn now. How about we just start getting our things together now."

He says, "That sounds great. I'll start packing. The boats actually already prepared."

She laughs and says, "Of course it is. I'll go back to my room and start getting my things together. There's just one thing. Since we're going to Mexico and we will probably be going to a seedy area, I'm not sure I'll feel safe there without my gun."

He says, "Well I'm sure my blade will protect us pretty well."

She says, "I don't doubt your mad skills, bro. But what if someone's shooting at us from a distance? What do you do? Do you throw your knife like a chinese star?"

He says, "Deb, I'm pretty adept at the martial arts but I don't do that."

She says, "Then what do you do in case like that?"

He says, "When I notice I'm being shot at, I duck to dodge the bullets."

She says, "What if someone sticks a gun in your face?"

He says, "I talk them into lowering their gun or I disarm them."

She says, "That's ridiculous. Like that's going to work every time."

He shrugs and says, "It has thus far."

She says, "Well then the gods of fate have smiled kindly upon you."

He says, "They certainly have."

She says, "Well my mad skills lie in a gun. Is my gun anywhere nearby?"

He says, "No. I left it, in a bush, at the beginning the trail we walked."

With disappointment she says, "Oh."

He says, "But there's a gun in the cabin. It's an old hand gun of Dad's he kept here. It's in a desk, in the hallway. It's in that alcove area at the end." He points to the desk at the end of the hallway. He continues, "The bottom drawer of that desk has a false bottom to it. The gun and its holster are in there."

She says, "Could you please get it for me? I'd really feel safer with it for the trip."

He says, "Sure. Whatever makes you happy. I've hated seeing you miserable lately. I've hated having you hate me."

She says, "Oh, you know I love you."

He says, "I know. I love you too."

She says, "Awe... I love how you say that now. I guess forty years of bitching about it finally paid off."

He says, "Well let me get you the gun."

They both get up off the floor. Dexter turns on the light in the hallway. He walks over to the desk in the alcove area. With the light on, there's a window over the desk that acts like a mirror. It's still dark out so the hallway light gives a clear reflection in the window. The mirror of the window shows Dexter approaching the desk and then disappearing from view. He sinks out of the shot as he kneels down to get the gun. Debra's then left alone in the window's reflection.

The second Debra, and her image, are out of Dexter's sight, her expression changes drastically. In the window mirror, Debra's image shows her become furious with rage. Her lips curl over her teeth, exposing them in a growl. Her hands ball up into angry shaking fists. Her eyes bulge out of her head, exposing the whites of her eyes. Debra sees her own furious reflection being mirrored back to her. She glowers down at Dexter with her silent fury.

Dexter's right below the window and is oblivious to all of this going on above and behind him. He's kneeling on the floor, looking down. He's preoccupied with getting the gun out of the drawer. He opens up the top drawer of the desk and takes a key out of it. He then uses that key to unlock the bottom drawer, where the gun is. With a creak of the wood he opens up the false bottom. Their father's gun finally comes into the light. The Dexter stands up and turns around with gun in his hand. The second he does this Debra's expression reverts back to it's friendly manner. She smiles at her brother and opens her hands up in a welcoming gesture. He hands her the gun.

She holds the gun in both hands and brings it to her heart.

She smiles and says, "Thanks Dexter, I feel safer with it in my hands already. I'll go to the bedroom and change my clothes. I'll get my things together."

She goes back to the bedroom and shuts the door. She still has a towel twisted in her hair. She grabs the towel and tosses it across the room. In the bedroom she goes to the far end of the room. She looks in the gun to see if it has bullets in it. It does. She unlatches the safety switch. Dexter knocks on the door. She hides the gun behind her back and smiles.

She says, "I'm not undressed or anything. You can come in."

He opens the door and says, "Hey Deb, I need to tell you something. It's about us being on the lam."

She says, "Sure, and there's something I want to ask you as well? It's personal. Could you please shut the door behind you?"

He asks, "Sure, what is it?" He turns around to shut the door behind himself.

The second the door is closed, Debra pulls out the gun from behind her back. She cocks the trigger of the gun. It makes a "[click]" sound. Dexter still has his back turned away from Debra. He hears the [click] sound of the gun and freezes in place with his hand still on the doorknob. He lets go of the door knob and slowly turns around. He sees Debra pointing the gun at him. At the sight of this, Dexter's whole body seems to sag with defeat. He's completely crestfallen.

He looks at the ground and breathes out a single word, "No."

He looks at Debra with despair in his eyes.

With venom in her voice she asks, "What I wanted to ask you, dear brother of mine, is how a serial killer like you can have a hundred and nine lives?"

Looking like he's gonna cry, he weakly says, "Deb." He gives her a feeble smile and raises up his arm. He quietly says, "Give me the gun."

She shakes her head and says, "No. I'm gonna shoot you this time. I'm gonna finally end this."

He asks, "End what? Me saving so many innocent lives." He points behind himself towards the door. "What you just said out in the hallway, all the good I do, all the lives I save. Everything you said. It's all true."

She says, "What about all the innocent lives you take? What about all the non killers you've killed? All the innocent lives you will take in the future? You think you're not accountable for each and every innocent life you take? You think the vast number of lives you may be saving, excuses you to take an innocent life here or there?"

He says, "I only broke the code at times out of love for my family? I only wanted to protect them, to protect you. Because I love you."

She says, "Well your love seems very dangerous. And I don't want your so called 'love' if comes with a heaping handful of murder. You can keep your 'love' and save it for no one."

He takes a step forward, towards her, with his arm outstretched, like it's ready to take the gun.

He says, "Deb, I'll change. I swear, from this point on, I'll only kill killers that fall through the cracks."

Her gun arm starts shaking. Tears well up in her eyes. She cries, "You already made that promise to me and you broke it. You're not getting better. You're getting worse. You're killing non killers more and more frequently. You stooped to going after, to kill, a true innocent like LaGuerta. And I'm not changing you, putting you on the straight and narrow. You're the one changing me, making me a murderer. Because you're always ten steps ahead of the game. Because you don't just have a plan B. You got a plan C, D, E, F..."

The whole time Debra talks, Dexter slowly walks closer to her with his arm outstretched. By the time she stops talking, she suddenly realizes that his outstretched hand is just a couple of feet from her. She steps to the side and starts walking backwards, to the side of the room. She's now between the wall and the bed. She'll be backed up against the corner of the room soon. Then there will be no place left for her to go.

The gun is now shaking violently in her hand. She cries out, trembling, "Stop! Don't come any closer! I will shoot you!"

Dexter smiles and says, "Deb, it's okay, it's alright. Just calm down... Just give me the gun." He takes a final step towards her and says. "We've been through this before. You can't kill me. You love me."

Debra cries out in pain. "You're manipulating me!" Her violently shaking hand, suddenly points the gun up to her own head."

Dexter calls out in a panic, "Oh God!" He goes to slap the gun out of her hand.

The second Dexter's slapping hand meets Debra's gun hand, she finally pulls the trigger. "[Bang!]" The gun goes off. The gun fires upward, towards the ceiling. The bullet grazes the right side of Debra's face. The bullet's now imbedded in the ceiling. There's a king sized bed next to them. Dexter's slap lands the gun on top of the sheets of the bed. The gun lays on the far bottom corner of the bed away from them.

Debra cries out, "Oh f***!" She lounges onto the bed. She lands on the top part of the bed that's closest to her. She laying on the sheets, diagonally, reaching for the gun. The gun's on the edge of the bed, almost falling off. She scrambles to get herself up on all four so she can crawl over to it. She claws at the sheets under her. This action pulls the sheets under her, inching the gun closer. Dexter lounges onto the bed too. He lands right on top of Debra. He straddles her, flattening her to the bed, inhibiting her ability to crawl. Debra stretches out her left arm to grab the gun.

Dexter blurts out, "Stop it." He grabs her by the shoulders and yanks her downward, pulling her closer to himself. This causes Debra's left hand to stop, just shy, of reaching the gun.

She mutters, "Sh**."

Dexter lets go of her shoulders to make a grab for the gun himself. Debra's now able to slide herself forward. She crawls her hand over the gun. She grins, fiendishly, as her fingers intertwine around the trigger guard.

But then she feels both of Dexter's hands clamp down around her gun hand. As this happens her gun hand tightens its grip. Her free hand joins in the fight for the gun. But Dexter just rips the gun straight out of her hands. He tosses it across the room, far from the bed. With a thud, the gun bounces off the wall and lands on the floor. Debra's laying on her stomach, underneath Dexter. Dexter grabs both of Debra's wrists and forces her hands to meet her shoulders. He squeezes her elbows, to her sides, with his knees while still straddling her. He lets go of both her wrists. He grabs her by the upper arms. He then roughly flips over her whole body. She goes from lying on her stomach to lying on her back. She is now facing up, towards the ceiling.

Debra squeezes her eyes shut, cringing at being tossed around.

He grabs both her wrists again. He brings her wrists together and pins them both down over her heart.

He mutters under his breath, "Gotcha."

She kicks her legs down into the bed and twists her body around to the side. All in an effort to get out from under him. She growls, "F*** off."

As she tries to escape, he shakes and pushes her down into the bed, bouncing them both.

With great annoyance he mutters, "God stay put already."

She tries to push her arms out from under him.

He tightens his grip on her wrists and her hands go numb.

She kicks her legs into the bed again and tries twisting her body the other way. After a few seconds she gives up on escaping. Her attempts to get away prove useless. She slumps her legs down and lays limp.

Once the fight goes outta her, he loosens the grip on her wrists. Blood flows back into her hands.

Dexter sits down on top of her, weighing her down. In relief he closes his eyes and leans his head back. He takes a deep breath.

Debra starts crying in despair, "Aawww, aawww."

Dexter looks down at Debra's crying face.

She looks back up at him, sobbing. He looks blurry to her through the tears. Her eyelids squeeze together to let the pools of tears out of her field of vision. She can now see his face clearly. He's looking down at her wistfully.

There's what looks to be a skidmark up the right side of Debra's face. The mark's on the outside edge of her cheek, framing her tear streaked face. A single drop of blood beads up at the center of the skidmark. Her tears, on the right side of her face, flow into the drop of blood. The tears carry the drop down to the backside of her head.

They stay like that for a time while Debra continues to cry. They look at each other, not saying anything, not moving.

After a minute Dexter breaks the silence. He lets out a big sigh and says, "When that gun went off I thought my heart was going to shoot straight out of my body." He laughs and looks off into space.

Debra hiccups small convulsions as her crying dies down. In a delirious way, her eyes roll around the room. Her gaze then settles for looking downward.

Dexter looks back down at her, shaking his head. He says, "I can't tell you what a relief it is to finally have you pinned down. I don't know what I would do if that gun had fired off two inches to the left and killed you. I dunno know. I just... I just can't imagine you not being there. You've always been there. You've been there ever since my mom got... Well you know the rest of that story don't you?" He laughs again, shaking his head. Mystified he surmises, "I couldn't imagine losing you too." He looks down on her curiously and then remarks, "So you just can't make yourself kill me uh? As much as you think I should die, you just can't seem to do the deed. Well I guess we've determined that you can and will kill yourself. That's where we really want different things... dear sister of mine. Do you have anything to say?"

Debra looks at him and quietly says, "F*** you."

Dexter smirks and says, "Well Debs, I can just stay like this all day long. But I got things to do, places to go. I got to batten down the hatches. Gotta keep sisters from from committing suicide. Kudos to you though." He nods his head towards the door. "That speech you gave out in the hallway. Wowee. You've been thinking about this a long time haven't you? You really had me going. Your plan almost worked. I still can't believe I gave you that loaded gun." He rocks from side to side on his knees while still straddling her, still grabbing her wrists. He chants to himself, "Stupid, stupid, stupid." He sways like a pendulum above her. He stops dance/chant and looks down at her wistfully. He sighs and says, "I love you so much."

She whispers, "I hate you."

He looks at her pouting, "Oh, but you also love me don't you? And that's your problem isn't it?" He gives a long slow shake to head his from side to side. He pouts and gushes, "Well I only have pure love for you sweet sister. And I just wanna see you alive and well and happy." He grins and looks off into the distance. He says, "And now I have the rest your life to for this to happen in."

She scoffs and gives him an incredulous look.

He continues, "And again, dear Debs, you were right more than you know. I am dangerous. Because I would kill an infinite number of people to keep my family safe."

She cringes in horror and disgust. She croaks out, "You are one sick f*** Dexter Moser."

He pouts again and says, "That's Dexter Morgan to you young lady." He stares off into space and says, "Ever since your Xanax overdose, I have been terrified. I was terrified that, once again, I would walk into a room and find you lying there, on floor, not breathing. And now, much to my relief, I finally gotcha-where-I-wancha." Once again he shakes and pushes her into the bed bouncing them. He asserts, "I gotcha where you can't hurt yourself, no more."

She grimaces again at being shaken. She says, "You're the one hurting me."

He insists, "No." He moves his left hand so that it pins down both of Debra's wrists by itself, freeing his right hand. He uses his free hand to point his finger in her face.

He firmly states, "Your one hurting yourself. You're the one trying to kill yourself." After dabbing his finger at her, Dexter uses his right hand to resecure her wrist.

She shakes her head.

He continues, "I can finally put my fears, of your suicide, permanently to rest. I can finally stop worrying about it all the time." He smirks at Debra and says, "We'll chit chat a little more later." He wiggles around a little with excitement. "I just can't wait to start revamping your room... your wardrobe..." He squeezes his shoulders up together and squeals with excitement. "ehhhh... " He moves his hand left hand to, again, pin down both of Debra's wrists by itself, freeing up his right hand. This time, with his free hand, he takes the syringe out of his pocket. He bites the cap off the needle. He turns his head to the side to spit it out.

Debra sees the M90 descending on her. She vacantly stares up at the ceiling past Dexter. She gravely drones, "I wish I were dead."

Dexter sticks the syringe in her neck and says, "I love you too."

I titled this chapter, "Boxing Debra" after the movie "Boxing Helena." It suppose to somewhat refer to Dexter tormenting Debra like in that movie. But of course not in such a gruesome way as in "Boxing Helena." Like with "My Sister's Keeper" the title chapter is more just a dark wink to those other stories and/or their vague resemblance to the story I wrote.