Human emotions were difficult for me to parse. To relate to. Over time, through great effort, I was able to gain some grasp. That was anger in Harry's voice or fear in his eyes. Deb's words might be mean, but her voice was happy and she was smiling, she was teasing.

Problem was that, even with years of training and the ability to, with some care and diligence, read human emotions, I still didn't know how to cope with them. I could do my best to look guilty when Harry scolded me, that came easily enough. A blank mask was acceptable for plenty of occasions, though Harry warned me away from adopting it always. People got freaked out if they only saw you with one expression, particularly if it was an empty or neutral one.

Dealing with Debra's raging emotions was...more difficult. She was a chaotic force, which, while oddly charming, also was a bit overwhelming for someone like me. Little wooden boys didn't stand up well to infernos. Nor to Hurricanes. And there was a hurricane inside Deb.

One day, I learned a secret. A Kryptonite that could always work to soothe the hurricane inside Debra.

Hugs.

Yes, a simple embrace could somehow bring a tremendous amount of comfort to my sister. I don't know why it took me so long to figure that one out. We hugged often enough when we were children. Deb would cling to me sometimes, especially when we went someplace unfamilar or she had a nightmare.

I don't like people touching me under most normal circumstances. But that never bothered me, unless I was in a particularly bad mood.

As she grew older that faded a bit, and I stopped returning the hugs. In my teenage years I was, uncertain as to how close I should be with my sister. Too close and I was creepy. Too distant and I was an asshole. I never knew how to act around her.

It's not like we didn't have our moments but largely I grew more distant from her around puberty. That's normal with older siblings, I think.

It took our mother's illness to bring us together. The anxiety and sense of impending doom that settled over the house created a sort of blanket around us. Drew us closer by nesscity. My late-night conversations with Deb grew drastically in frequency. Our bond, never fully severed, always unique, strengthened.

Sometimes we felt like two halves of a whole person. The missing pieces in each others lives. Other times it felt like we were a million miles away. Strangers stuck in the same house. With no real understanding of each other.

I wonder which one's closer to the truth. Or if such a contradiction could actually sustain itself. Logically, I'd say no, but my life experiences have led me to be more open-minded to such things.

(I was a killer and yet I did save lives, in my own way.)

"...Dex, you're pretty weird aren't you?" Deb said. It was one of our late-night chats. She was on the bed instead of the floor. It meant her nightmares and/or grief about mom was particularly bad. Around Midnight I'd say. So it sounded more like a serious question instead of a teasing one. She teased me a lot less during these chats (Not never though)

"So people have told me." I said.

"I mean for real. Like, I'm not making fun of you or judging you. It's just...well your weird." Deb said.

I made a grunt of affirmation. Weird was severely underplaying it.

"Can...you tell me what makes me weird. Exactly." I asked.

"Don't you know you're weird?"

"I do. I just...don't know how I look to other people." I said.

"...Well you are socially awkard. A total nerd. Which is fine, it's just you say the dumbest shit sometimes."

"I know. "

"...How's that like? For you."

"How's what like?" I said. There was so many differences, so many hidden thoughts, it was hard t tell what she meant. How much could those piercing eyes see through me?

"You know, being like totally socially retarded." Deb said.

"...It's difficult. I...struggle with it a lot." I said.

"...You do?" Her voice is so small. She reminds me a bit like child Debra when she gets like this.

"I do."

I see her bite her lip. She looks oddly tense. Why?

"Fuckin Mr. Perfect actually struggles." Deb said. She sounded...sad. There was something else too. Something...complicated.

"I'm far from perfect. You know that better than anyone." I said. It was true, besides Harry, no one else knew just how...flawed I could be.

"I mean, sure but...fuck Dexter I didn't know you were suffering." She sounded on the verge of tears. That wasn't ideal. I hadn't wanted this.

"I...wouldn't say suffering." I said. Not exactly suffering. Struggling was the best word for it maybe.

"Bullshit." Deb said. For some reason that won her the arguement.

"...I'm ok Deb. Honest. I deal." I said.

"Doesn't mean you should have to."

"It is what it is."

There was a long silence. This often happened in our nightime conversations.

"...Do you remember the night Mom died." Her voice was small again.

"Of course." I said. It was an automatic response. Most of that night was blurry in my head. I didn't like to think about it. A lot happened. A key part of my life disappeared and Debra and Harry, my whole family was devastated.

"Remember when you hugged me?" Deb said.

I blinked. I'd hugged her? It made sense I supposed. It was normal and brotherly to hug a sibling after a death of a loved one. But...Debra usually initiated. I was always to...apprehensive to do it. I was pretty sure she'd say she hugged me if she meant she initiated.

Did I hug her? It was so...chaotic. That static pressure in my head was so loud it had been weeks, maybe months since I last killed an animal I felt sick. Maybe. Maybe I did.

"Not really." I said.

"...I can't blame you. You nearly lost your shit. I mean we all did but...you never do. I mean you hugged me like you needed me. It felt...great. It was one of the only things that brought me some comfort." Deb said. She was crying in full now, but she kept her voice steady enough to be understandable.

I remembered. It was...foggy, covered up by that static, that blood pounding in my head. Debra was devastated. I felt...lost. She was crying and I crossed over to her and I hugged her. Tight. It made the voices quiet, the static tune down, ever so slightly eased the pressure. I nearly cried with relief.

Fuck. It sounded oddly Deb-like.

Did I have a hurricane inside me?

"...You can hug me you know, whenever you want-need, whatever." Deb said. For not the first time she was taking the older sibling role. Only fitting. She was more emotionally mature then I'd ever be.

Was I someone that needs a hug? Probably not, it's not a feeling I'm familiar with or even understand really.

"...I can?" I didn't know why I asked this. Why my throat felt dry and my chest felt tight. I felt like my voice sounded small like Debs.

"Of course. You're my brother. I love you." Debra said.

I felt tense and looked at her. I felt like I couldn't breathe.

"Really? It's not...weird?" I said.

"No Dex it's not weird if brothers and sisters hug. Is that what was stopping you?" Deb said. She was smiling through tears.

"I don't know...kinda." My mind was a tangle. It wasn't filled with blood or static or tension, instead with all these strange...feelings.

It felt awful.

I wanted them to go away.

Hugging Deb helped before. Maybe it could help now.

"C-Can I...hug you now." I said. It was difficult to get the words out. It felt almost impossible.

"Of course dumbass." Deb said with a smile. It was so easy for her.

I slowly, carefully moved to hug her. It felt...nice like it always did. My mind, a nervous confusing tangle, became a solved problem. Everything clicked into place again.

I felt warm.

I finally let go of the hug. I felt normal. Maybe a bit better.

"Better?"

"Yes...actually. Thanks."

"No problem."

Maybe I was the kinda person who did need hugs. Sometimes.

I surprised myself all the time.