1 comments/ 2382 views/ 7 favorites Dexter - The Right Ending By: komrad1156 Note to readers: If you've watched the Showtime Drama, Dexter, and you're already familiar with the cast and how it ended, please skip the intro and start reading after the double line. If not, let me provide some background. The show lasted for eight seasons so it will take a while to provide the needed detail. If you're a fan, you may find my timeline out of sync with the real show. My apologies to the purists, but this is how I'd like to have seen things end. One additional note. The guy who played Dexter, Michael C. Hall and the woman who played Debra, Jennifer Carpenter, were married in real life for a couple of years while the show was being aired. ***** Supporting Cast: Maria Laguerta: Miami Metro Police captain who is Debra's superior. She is the only person who believes Dexter is really a serial killer called "The Bay Harbor Butcher." She never gives up on this belief and at the end of Season 7 she finally has the proof she's waited six years to get. Debra kills her at the end of Season 7 when she is forced to choose between killing her or Dexter. Joey Quinn: A hard-drinking Miami Metro Police detective whose marriage proposal to Debra was rejected. She later professed her love for him in the final season. Angel Batista: Miami Metro Police Detective Sergeant. Debra was promoted to Lieutenant over him for internal, political reasons, but like everything else, Angel takes it in stride and supports her as much as possible. Harrison Morgan: Dexter's five-year old son. His mother, Rita, was killed by a serial killer named Trinity around the end of Season 2 leaving Dexter to raise the boy on his own. Through Harrison we learn Dexter is capable of loving someone else. Vince Masuka: A true pervert who is Dexter's fellow lab geek. Jamie Batista: Harrison's nanny and Angel's younger sister who gets romantically involved with Joey Quinn. ***** Why I'm writing the story: The ending to Dexter has been rated the worst in the history of television series several times. Many fans were okay with how it ended; some even insist it was the only possible way it could have happened. But most, like me, were either strongly disappointed or downright disgusted with it as it left us hanging and completely unsatisfied. It just didn't make sense. In stark contrast, many people, myself included, thought the ending to Breaking Bad was the best in television history. A minority thought it was too canned and too sterile leaving no loose ends. This is my attempt to provide an ending that seems much more logical and satisfying. Again, purists won't much care for it, but c'est la vie. :-) ***** Background Summary: "Dexter Morgan, Miami Metro Police Department blood spatter analyst, has a double life. When he's not helping the homicide division solving murders, he spends his time hunting and killing bad guys that slip through the justice system. He spends his sun-drenched days solving crimes - and moonlit nights committing them. But not to worry, our cool-blooded Dexter doesn't kill just anyone. He reserves his homicidal hobbies to taking only the lives of other killers." For those who need even more info, here are the details: When Dexter Morgan was three, he watched as his mother was brutally murdered in front of him inside a cargo container. She was dismembered with a chainsaw and the event scarred him for life. A caring police officer named Harry Morgan, found the boy and later adopted him. Harry knew this traumatic event had created in him what Dexter later called his "Dark Passenger" that drove him to kill until his lust for blood was temporarily satisfied until the need to kill arose again. Harry was afraid Dexter's demons would land him in Florida's electric chair so he created a Code by which Dexter lived. He could kill, thus satisfying his need to do so, but he could only kill those he knew to be guilty through thorough research and vetting and who had escaped the criminal justice system. As you might expect, there were exceptions to the rule, but for the most part, Dexter did indeed try to live by the Code. As a sociopath, unable to feel what others felt, the Code and Harry's teachings helped him fit in during various social situations where he would have otherwise stood out like a sore thumb. It was a survival mechanism, pure and simple. Harry also had a biological daughter named Debra who, like Dexter, went to work for the Miami Metro Police Department. Unlike Dexter, a blood spatter analyst, Debra Morgan was an extremely foul-mouthed police officer who was later promoted to detective and then to lieutenant. As they grew up, Harry favored Dexter and excluded her to the point that it cause Debra to have trust issues with men. As a result, she had relationships with some very unlikely guys to include a pot-smoking police informant, a serial killer (who, as it turns out, was Dexter's older blood brother who had also seen their mother murdered, but who wasn't adopted by Harry because he was 'too old to save') an FBI agent thirty years her senior, and a hard-drinking fellow detective. At one point in Season 6, Deb tells her police-department therapist the only man she's ever really trusted is Dexter. After some back and forth, the therapist asks her if there might be something more than just trust to her feelings. She is initially revolted by the comment, but when she's reminded Dexter isn't really her biological brother, she must grapple with these new feelings. Debra has no idea what Dexter does in spite of the many clues a good detective should have noticed and pieced together over the years. Deb's love for Dexter blinds her to all of them so until the final episode of Season 6, when she sees him kill a man he has meticulously prepared to kill on an altar in a church, she is clueless about his Dark Passenger. Prior to that, she see's him only as her protector, her hero, and her quirky big brother. As a result, even after she learns his deepest, darkest secret when she sees him kill a serial killer who's been terrorizing Miami, she can't bring herself to turn him in even though she is now a police lieutenant. She struggles to accept this newly-discovered side of her hero-bother, but doing so tears her up inside. Dexter later dispatches a man who intended to kill Debra and although she doesn't approve of what he does, she tells him that Dexter's killing him made her feel 'good.' During a particularly heated exchange in Season 7, Deb finally blurts out that minutes before learning Dexter's secret in the church, she'd planned to tell him she not only loved him but was in love with him. Dexter doesn't have much to say about the comment and the writers never explored that possibility. Instead, they had him fall in love with another serial killer, a beautiful blonde woman named Hannah McKay. Hannah taught Dexter, a sociopath, he could feel emotion for another woman. He'd already learned he had the capacity to love when his first wife, Rita, gave birth to their son, Harrison. (Rita was killed by guess what? Yep, a serial killer around the end of Season 2.) The series ended with Debra abandoning her feelings for Dexter and declaring her love for Joey, Quinn, the hard-drinking fellow detective she'd once loved but fallen out with. Tragically, Debra dies in a local hospital after being shot. Dexter buried her body at sea during a hurricane then the scene inexplicably cut to him being a logger in Portland, Oregon, the place he had once said a lot of people end up and the series is over. WTF? So, for most of us, the ending was both illogical and wholly unsatisfying, thus the reason for calling it the worst ending—ever. This is how I would have wrapped up the series. ymmv. ____________________ ____________________ "I love you too, Deb." "You do? I've never heard you say it out loud before. You really do love me?" "Of course I do. You're my sister." "Is that how you still see me? After all these years? I'm still just your little sister? Really, Dex?" "I don't know what else to say. You are my sister, right?" Not sure what else to say but sensing he should say something, Dexter blurted out, "You're also a good cop and a good detective." He paused and had that goofy look he always gets in any social situation where he's not sure how a normal person should respond. "Can you help me out here? How am I doing?" Debra just grunted and walked away. Her therapist was even more fucked up than her she told herself. "In love with Dexter, my ass," she said under her breath as she went into her room in the apartment they'd shared since her last romance ended in disaster. She shut the door and wondered why she even bothered trying to talk to him about anything involving feelings. Sociopaths don't have feelings. They can't empathize. And Dexter is a sociopath, right? Yet every time she watched her brother play with or care for her nephew Harrison, she knew that wasn't true. Dexter was a killer, but he wasn't a sociopath. He couldn't be. He loved his son and he showed it by making sacrifices for him. No true sociopath could do that. And he loved her. She knew he did. He was just too fucking stupid to know he might also be in love with her. Okay, he wasn't stupid. In fact, Dexter was one of the smartest people she knew. He just had no real experience with sharing his feelings—feelings she knew he had them. Hell, she saw them nearly every day when he interacted with his son. Then again, what difference did it really make? This whole idea of being in love with someone who was raised as your brother—even if he wasn't biologically related—was as fucked up as every other relationship she'd ever had. Deb sat there and recounted the men she'd let in and it made her shudder. The first turned out to be a serial killer called 'The Icetruck Killer.' She remembered how he'd groomed her and strung her along until she fell hard for him. The highlight of the relationship came when he proposed to her and she'd said 'yes.' That was immediately replaced with the anger and shame she felt when he kidnapped her and used her to lure Dexter to her location. He was going to kill her, for fuck's sake and yet she'd just accepted his marriage proposal. Great detective my ass. Oh, and the added bonus was he was Dexter's biological brother! Yeah, that was a great choice, Deb! Then there was Joey's CI or confidential informant who was dope-smoking musician with very little ambition. "Good work there, too, she thought to herself. Ah, but it didn't end there, either! No, Debra Morgan had fallen in love with an FBI agent twice her age. Had he not been gunned down in his search for another serial killer named Trinity, she'd have married him. "I'd have married my own fucking father," she said out loud as the verbal self-flagellation continued. "And now I'm love with my mother-fucking brother—a serial killer for Christ's sake! Jesus Christ on a fucking stick! I am one fucked up bitch," she told herself before she went to sleep. The next day, Debra got word that another murder suspect had kidnapped another victim whom he was likely terrorizing. This was his MO. He would befriend a woman, invite her or take her by force to his place, then spend the evening 'hunting' her as she tried to elude him. In the end, he would kill her but not before making her live through hours of hell on earth first. If she could just find his location, she could stop him. She had uniforms out looking for this sick bastard when she remembered something from an earlier case. Without telling anyone where she was going, she headed to the location where she thought he just might be. Thirty minutes later, her suspicions were confirmed when she entered the three-story house with her service weapon drawn. Music was blaring and strobe lights were flashing. It was utterly disorienting but he was here and she was ready for him. Moments later, she heard the woman's screams over the music. Without backup, she went inside and began searching for this sick fuck. She had to show Dexter the system worked; that she could arrest this guy, see him tried and sent to prison for life. No matter how noble his motives, she couldn't allow her avenging sibling to do what he did again and she would prove to him her way was better. As she felt her way along the walls of the first hall, she could tell the screams were above her. She moved forward until she found the staircase then slowly made her way up and up until she was on the third floor. The screams were louder and she knew the woman and her tormentor were close by. That's when she saw the woman run from one room across the hall to another. Her screams momentarily startled Debra who didn't duck back behind the wall as the huge man chasing her and wielding an axe saw her. Debra fired but the man was wearing a bulletproof vest. He was slowed but his attack wasn't stopped. She turned and ran but the strobe lights so disoriented her that she fell and dropped her weapon. In that same instant she felt his massive hand on the back of her neck pulling her up by her hair. He was wearing some kind of mask, but she knew it was him and she also knew she had only moments left to live. That's when he appeared. Out of nowhere, Dexter walked up behind this giant of a man and struck him with a baseball bat. Stunned, the man released Debra then ran for the nearest window. As Dexter gave chase, Debra called in the incident and within minutes, the man was apprehended and in handcuffs. She had him dead to rights and now Dexter would have to admit the system did indeed work. Debra's confidence was shattered the next day when Captain Laguerta showed her a video of the man's arrest. The video clearly showed he never acknowledged his Miranda Rights and a judge was letting him go free. Beside herself with anger and frustration, Debra vowed to get him again and this time make it stick. Dexter had other ideas. He knew where the man worked. He was, ironically enough, a gravedigger, and Dexter Morgan was going to show his sister that sometimes the only way to get justice was to do things his way. He asked Debra to go with him but he convinced her to remain in the car while he checked on something. It was getting dark as this hulk of a man was digging his final grave of the day. When Dexter approached him the man laughed. "Well, well. If it isn't the little chick-cop's brother. What's the 'blood guy' expect to do here? Get himself arrested for harassment? Don't you know they let me out? I'm an innocent man," he said as he jumped off of his backhoe and towered over Dexter. "No, I don't intend to harass you," Dexter told him calmly. "I just wanted to show you something." "Show me something? Show me what?" Dexter stuck the needle in the man's neck so quickly he didn't see or feel a thing before he collapsed. When he awoke several hours later, he was disoriented and groggy. His eyes opened and as he looked around, he saw the pictures of the women he'd killed hanging on the wall beside him. He tried to move, but he was bound so securely by the sheets of plastic wrapped around his body he couldn't. "What the fuck is going on here?" the man demanded to know. "I told you I wanted to show you something," Dexter replied. "See?" he asked as he pointed to the pictures. "Remember them?" "You can't prove that," the man spat. Dexter turned up the volume of gas in the crematorium. As the flames raged, he said, "I don't have to prove anything. That's the advantage of doing things my way. You and I both know what you did. I'm just making sure the holes in the system get filled." That's when the man realized exactly where he was. His body was laying on a gurney on a roller and he was about to be cremated alive for his crimes. The man began screaming and pleading for his life but none of that ever moved Dexter. "Cry all you like," he told him as he pushed his feet closer to the flames. "I'm going to show you the same mercy you showed each of these women you killed." As the man's feet caught fire, he screamed for his life. Dexter paused then gave the gurney a shove. When he returned to hi SUV, Debra asked him if he found what he was looking for. "I did," he said. "She that black smoke from the crematorium?" "Yes," she said her voice shaky with the realization Dexter had just taken justice into his own hands—again. "That's him. That's the guy they let walk today." Debra was unable to stop looking as the thick, black, greasy smoke curled up into the night sky. "Jesus, Dex. Did you..." "That's what I do, Deb. I make the world a safer place for people like you." He watched her watching the smoke then said, "How does it make you feel?" She tilted her head to be able to see the wisps of smoke going ever higher. Her one-word answer was, "Good." Once again, Dexter had saved her life. He'd also saved the lives of God-only-knows how many other women this asshole would have killed because he'd walked on a technicality. She knew Dexter needed to kill, but this was different. This time he'd killed...for her. The thought made her shudder, but it also evoked other, more complicated feelings. Feelings she'd had more frequently since the day she first realized her therapist might have a point. Deb was on the treadmill when Dexter strolled out of the bedroom. "How long you been on that thing this time?" he asked as he went to get a cup of coffee. "An hour maybe. Why?" "Just curious," he told her. "What do you see in her?" she asked him. She looked down and saw she'd been running for an hour and nine minutes. "Hannah?" "Yes, Hannah, unless you're also dating someone else." "I dunno. She gets me. I don't have to hide who am around her." Deb hit 'end' and the treadmill started winding down. "You don't have to hide who you are around me either, you know," she said defensively. "Oh, really? Then why are you constantly trying to change me, Deb? I'll answer that for you. It's because you know who I am but you don't approve. Hannah knows who I am and she's just fine with that." "I guess she must good in bed then, right?" she asked as she toweled off. "I wouldn't know. We haven't gotten that far yet," he answered as he sipped his coffee. "You want a cup?" "Jesus, Dexter. I just finished running eight miles. Coffee would make me puke." "What's really going on, Deb? You're hiding something from me. I can tell." "Oh, now that's rich! I'm the one hiding something from you? Are you fucking shittin' me, Dexter? How many years were you...killing people, for God's sake...before you told me? Oh, wait! You didn't tell me. I walked into that church and saw you put a knife in that guy's chest. The guy you had wrapped in plastic on the altar for Christ's sake. Oh, yeah, and I went and bought two gallons of gasoline so you could burn the evidence and cover up the crime. Jesus, Dex! I'm as guilty as you are, but I'm not the one hiding anything here." "As I said, Hannah doesn't care about what I do. She doesn't spend her life hand wringing over my Dark Passenger. That's the difference." "I'm a police officer for fuck's sake, Dexter! I can't just watch you murder someone in cold blood then pat you on the back for it and not feel the way I feel. Why can't you understand that?" she pleaded. "I do understand that. I get it. The point here Deb, is that you don't understand or accept me for who I am. You don't seem to get that I'm never going to change. This is who I am and this is who I'll always be and let's be honest here. If it wasn't, you wouldn't be here having this conversation with me. You'd be another one of that psycho's victims and I'd be attending your memorial service." "I know. I know," she said as she paced back and forth. "That's why this is so fucked up! I hate what you do but I'm so...grateful you do it." She stopped pacing, looked at Dexter and said, "It's just that I don't trust her." Dexter - The Right Ending "Are we talking about Hannah again or did I miss something?" he asked making sure it hadn't missed a social clue. Deb was hard enough to read when she wasn't being so emotional. The last thing he needed was to not be paying attention and evoke even more of her wrath. "Of course we're still talking about Hannah. And you shouldn't trust her either, Dexter. I can't put my finger on it, but I'm telling you she doesn't have your best interests in mind." She wiped her face with the towel and headed for the bathroom to shower and get ready for work. As she stepped into the bathroom, she looked back out and said, "Like I do. No one cares about you like I do, Dex. No one." When Deb came out of the shower Dexter was getting ready to leave for work. "This may be a touchy subject, but Hannah and I are having dinner together this evening. We were wondering if you might like to join us." "We? Are you fucking kidding me? That bitch wants me to have dinner with you? Seriously, Dexter?" "Yes, seriously. I think it might be a good thing, Deb. For all of us." Debra grimaced as she strapped on her weapon and badge. "Okay, fine. I'll have dinner with you. But if that bitch starts in on me..." "She won't, Deb. I promise." He turned the handle on the door then stopped and said, "Thanks. This means a lot to me." Deb made a face and shook her head. "Hold on, I'm right behind you," she said as she picked up her keys. That evening Debra arrived a few minutes late. She was already pissed off about having to sit next to this...cunt. And now she wouldn't even have any time to talk to Dexter alone. She gritted her teeth and walked up to the table where they were both talking and laughing. "Mind if I break up this love fest?" she said with her typical attitude. "Debra! Hi, I'm so glad you could join us," Hannah said politely. "Yeah, it's a fucking riot," she said as she took a seat. Hannah did her best to show Dexter's sister she really did care about him because she did. She loved Dexter and although she didn't need Debra's approval, it would make things easier if she could get her to at least not hate her. "So what do you do when you're not at your little nursery growing stuff?" Debra asked coldly. "I don't have a lot of other interests so I spend most of time there," she said sweetly. "You mean other than my brother, right?" Deb said sarcastically. "I care about Dexter very much, you know. I've never met anyone quite like him." Before Deb could say something about two fucking peas in a serial-killer pod, Dexter jumped in and asked how the food was. "Better than the fucking company," Debra told him. "I need to use the restroom, Dex," she said as she stared icily at Hannah and stood up. "She really doesn't like me, does she?" Hannah asked rhetorically. "She'll come around," Dexter assured her. "Let me go talk to her, okay? I'll be right back." Five minutes later the siblings returned and Debra made a monumental effort to be civil. Hannah took the opportunity to offer a toast. "I know we don't have any alcohol but everyone has a glass of iced tea so perhaps we could toast to um...'new friendships'?" Deb raised her glass but had to say, "Toasting without alcohol is bad fucking luck." In spite of her reservations, she joined the other two and bit the bullet. Or perhaps...she drank it. Debra suffered through ten more miserable minutes of mindless conversation before announcing she needed to go. "I'll see you back at the house, Dex," she said. She only nodded to Hannah who was smiling and trying to thank her again for agreeing to have dinner. On the twenty-minute drive home, Debra was finding it hard to keep her eyes open. It was only nine o'clock and she'd slept well the night before. Even so, it was all she could do to stay awake. She decided to take the exit and pull over and get some coffee. The next thing she was aware of was waking up and seeing Dexter's face. "Where the fuck am I?" she said. "You were in an accident. You're in the hospital," he told her. "An accident? What the fuck? I don't remember anything. Was anyone hurt?" "No. You ran into the guardrail at about 40mph. You were unconscious when the paramedics arrived, but you weren't hurt." He moved closer to her bed and took her hand. "What's the last thing you remember, Deb?" "I dunno. I was getting really sleepy and...and then I woke up here." "They're running a tox panel to see if there was anything in your blood. That should tell us..." "I wasn't fucking drinking, Dexter! And I damn sure didn't take anything let alone something illegal." "I know. It's just standard procedure." The next day, a friend from the lab called Dexter and told him, "I'm not supposed to give out these results, but there's something here you gotta see." Thirty minutes later, Dexter was looking at the tox screen and had to ask, "What is this?" "It's from a plant called Devil's Trumpet." The lab guy showed him a picture of it on his phone. "It has several toxic chemicals in it like scopolamine, hyoscyamine, and atropine. In the right amounts, it can cause severe drowsiness or even hallucinations and even death. The levels in her blood weren't lethal, but they were enough to put her to sleep and falling asleep on a busy road in Miami is, well... Any idea how something this unusual could have gotten in her blood stream?" "No," Dexter lied as he immediately realized where the toxins had come from. He'd seen that very flower in Hannah's nursery more than once. He had no idea it was toxic but putting two and two together wasn't hard. "Thanks a lot. This at least gives us a starting point." "A starting point for what?" he asked. Dexter didn't tell him it was a starting point for the end of his relationship with Hannah McKay or the beginning of a long prison sentence for her but he now knew what he had to do. When he told Debra what he'd found out, she sat up in bed and yelled, "I told you she was a fucking killer, Dexter! I told you she didn't have your best interests at heart. But you wouldn't listen. Oh, no! Her blonde hair and pretty face and her...her understanding of your Dark Passenger...sucked you in." She dropped the angry, accusatory tone and said, "Dexter, when are you going to figure it out?" He didn't have to ask what 'it' meant as the meaning was crystal clear. Deb really was the only woman who really, truly loved him. But he just couldn't see her...like that. To him, she was his little sister and a cop with the worst case of potty mouth he'd ever heard. Just hours later, Sergeant Batista and Detective Quinn arrived at Hannah's place with a warrant to search the premises. It took a little time, but they found a vial with the same toxins found in Debra's blood. "Hannah McKay, you're under arrest for the attempted murder of Debra Morgan." After her arraignment, Hannah was ordered held without bail. Dexter was beside himself with anger over her betrayal and more importantly for forcing him to choose between her or his sister. The one time he visited her in jail he asked her why she did it. "Because I love you and because she hates me." Hannah cried as she poured out her heart to Dexter. "No one else has ever loved me for me, Dexter. You don't care who I am or what I've done. And I don't care about your past or your Dark Passenger or anything else." She sobbed as she put her hand to the thick glass and said, "I love you, Dexter. I can't let anyone or anything stand between us. Please understand and please don't hate me. I did it for us, Dexter. For you and me and...Harrison." Dexter was unmoved. He stared coldly at her and when she finished he said tersely, "You forced me to choose between you and my sister, Hannah." He snarled and pointed his finger at her when he told her, "And whenever that happens, I will always choose my sister." He continued to stare unfazed by her tears as he slammed down the receiver. She put both hands on the glass and moved her face up close to it. He could just barely hear her pleading with him as the guard stepped in and began lifting her out of the chair. "Please, Dexter! I love you. Don't do this. I'll die without you! Dexter...please...I love you!" As she lay in her bed at home, Debra continued to struggle with the conflicting emotions she was experiencing. Everything seemed like one of those 'on one hand but then on the other' kind of scenarios. She'd been raised to think of him as her big brother, but he wasn't really her brother. Loving him made sense. Being in love with him didn't. Well, unless one focused in on biology alone. In that case, it was perfectly okay. But beyond her feelings were his. She didn't know how he really felt about her and she wondered if he even understood his own feelings. She knew he had them. After all, he loved Harrison. He loved her. He'd loved their father. Okay, her father and his dad—the man man who raised him. She was about to go out of her mind when he finally came home. "Hey," was all he said. "Did you see her?" she asked him. "Yes." He wasn't much of a conversationalist but then, neither was she. "Yes? Is that all you can fucking say, Dexter? You said you were in love with her, that she understood you, that she accepted you and then she tried to kill me. You go visit in her jail for fuck's sake and all you can say is 'yes?' What's wrong with you?" she demanded. "I don't know," he told her honestly. "I honestly don't know. I think I'm just gonna go to bed." "Great! I've waited all day to see you. I've been waiting to hear what you said to her and you say one word then go to bed? Do you not even care how I feel, Dexter? Does that mean nothing to you?" she said emotion choking her voice. "Deb, I'm sorry, I just..." She sat up and swung her legs off the side of the bed and said to him, "You can't always just say you're sorry and make it all better, Dexter. You have to talk to me. You have to tell me how you feel because this is killing me." Deb was hard as nails and more foul-mouthed than most men. Even so, it killed him when she cried. Lately, she'd done that a lot and he knew he was the reason she was crying. He just didn't know what to say let alone what to do. He'd never been good at reading social cues and he often made things worse when he tried. But she was just so...sad. Or was it anger? Either one was bad but he was pretty sure it was both. He decided to take a stab. "Hey! Come here you!" he said smiling and holding out his arms. "What the fuck are you doing, Dexter? What does that even mean—'come here, you'? I know this shit is hard for you, but not even you can be that insensitive. Can you?" Her face was all tight and screwed up from the anguish she was feeling and somewhere deep down inside he could feel it. Not all of it. Not exactly. But he could somehow...what was the word he was looking for? Sympathize with her? Maybe but that wasn't the right word. What was it when you could actually feel someone else's feelings? He couldn't think of the word, but he seemed to be experiencing 'it' for the first time in his life and the experience was very troubling for him. It made him feel...vulnerable. It was as though his shields were being lowered without his consent. It made him feel weak and out of control. He was lost in thought when Debra walked over to him and said, "Why is it so hard for you to show a little compassion? Why can't you just take me in your arms and hold me without saying something asinine like 'come here you'? Why can't you...love me back, Dexter? Why can't you ever do this?" Without warning, she kissed him on the lips then put her arms around him and held him. "Like this, Dex. Why is this so hard for you?" Dexter couldn't remember the last time he'd felt that uncomfortable. His sister had just kissed him—on the mouth and she was holding him the way Hannah and Rita had held him. "I'm not giving up, Dexter," she told him. "But I'm not gonna spend the rest of my life trying to squeeze blood out of a turnip. You're a numbers guy. You're linear and logical. So put two and two together. You killed someone for me. You gave up your girlfriend to the police for me. I killed Maria Laguerta to protect you. I've lied for you. I've risked my career for you. Like me who always chooses you, you always choose me. You're a smart guy, Dexter. Figure it out. Get a clue. And don't take forever doing it." She released him then went to her room. Minutes later he heard her on the treadmill going at it again in spite of having recently been in a serious car accident. As he lay there in bed listening to the sound of the treadmill's rhythmic pounding, he glibly wondered if it was possible to actually buy a clue. "Alex, I'll take 'Clues' for $400, please." Get a clue. How? How does one 'get a clue'? They didn't speak the following morning or that night. In fact, they didn't say a word to one another for three straight days. Deb finally broke the silence by saying, "I'm leaving, Dexter. I need some time away." "Oh," he said. "Where are you going and when will you be back? Harrison's birthday is next week. You didn't forget, did you?" "No, I didn't forget. And it kills me to miss it but staying here, being near you...that's killing me even more. I can't do this anymore. I can't be around you and not be with you. I know how fucked up that sounds but it's how I feel. And it's obvious you don't feel the same way so...I have to get away." "Temporarily?" he asked hopefully. "No. I'm moving to Portland. I'm not coming back." "Portland? What's in Portland?" he asked. "It's in Oregon. You know, the place you say a lot of people end up in. It sounds as good as any place else and I'm about sick of the heat and humidity here twelve months a year." "But Harrison's here. Deb, I'm here. You can't just..." "Dexter! You haven't heard a goddamn word I've said! You're not listening to me—again. You're the reason I can't stay. Jesus! Are you really that thick headed or what?" This time, Dexter really did feel something. He wasn't sure what it was but it was very unpleasant. He wasn't certain, but it seemed like he was...afraid. He'd never really experienced fear before. Death was his friend so the thought of dying didn't bother him. But the thought of losing Debra? That was somehow worse than dying. The feeling made him sick and he wanted it to go away, but he had no idea what to do to make it stop. The last time he'd tried to comfort her he'd been humiliated, but he had to try something. Anything to change her mind. "Deb. Don't go. Okay?" She looked up at him but didn't speak. "Can you give me a little more time? Can you stay until Harrrison's birthday? Please? I just need a little more time. That's all." "You're a master fucking manipulator, you know that?" She crossed her arms and paced back and forth. "Okay, one week. But that's it. If nothing changes, I'm on the first plane the next day after his birthday, Dexter. I'm not fucking kidding. One week and that's it." He'd won a temporary stay of execution, but that wasn't enough. He had to find a way to make her stay and the only person he knew he could talk to and trust was Dr. Vogel, his psychiatrist who knew all about his secret life and his Dark Passenger. If she couldn't help him, he couldn't be helped and Dexter's worst fear was that not even she could help him and that meant losing Debra. After their second session Dexter said, "So you're saying if I act romantically, I'll suddenly feel romantic?" Dr. Vogel sighed. "No. What I'm saying is that it is possible to change the way we feel by changing the way we act. But it doesn't happen suddenly, Dexter. It's a process. A process that takes time. I'm sorry, but a week isn't enough. A year might do it. Maybe even six months. But you only have five days left so...I really have nothing left to offer." Undeterred, Dexter decided to at least give this a try. Maybe it could buy him another month or two and give him enough time to actually change. He called Jamie, his nanny who just happened to be Angel Batista's sister. "Jamie? Hey, just calling to let you know I want to do something special for Deb tonight. She's been through a lot lately." He told her what he needed done and Jamie was all too happy to help. "So you can set all that up and keep Harrison at your place until around ten? Really? Great! You're the best. Thanks!" When he got home, he couldn't believe what he saw. There were candles all around the room, a dozen red roses in a vase with a card on it for her, and dinner was on the table. She'd be home in just fifteen minutes so he took a quick shower and changed. When she opened the door he met her and said, "How was your day?" She'd been working for a security firm since quitting the police force after having shot Laguerta. Most of her days were shit but he thought he'd ask as that's what people who loved someone seemed to say when they got home. She closed the door and told him, "Same old..." She looked up and saw the candles and the flowers and the food and the wine. "Jesus, Dex. Did someone kill you and replace you with your sensitive twin? What the fuck is this?" "It's me acting romantically," he told her proudly. "Dr. Vogel said if I act romantically, I might actually start feeling romantic." He watched her smile and bright eyes grow dim. "Oh, okay. Fucking figures. I knew there was something going on here." "Deb, I don't know what else to do. I'm trying. What more do you want from me?" he asked with genuine concern. "I don't want to lose you." "You know what?" she said. "This is nice. I mean, for you, this is really nice. Thanks, Dexter. It didn't come from your heart and you had to told to do something, but you tried and well...I'm impressed." "So you like it?" he asked hopefully. "Yeah, it's great. It's really great." He helped her with her chair then poured her a glass of wine then one for himself. "To real changes?" he said as though it were a question rather than a toast. "Sure. Why the fuck not? To real changes," she said before taking a sip. Debra didn't try to press her luck during dinner. She didn't expect much in the way of conversation and she didn't get it. The food was good and the wine was excellent and Dexter had tried. She had to give him credit for that. It was around nine o'clock when his phone rang. He checked it and saw it was Jamie calling. "Sorry. I better take this one," he told her. "Hey, what's up?" he asked his nanny. Jamie was beside herself. He tried to get her to calm down but she was hysterical. "Harrison is missing! I let him play in the bedroom for a few minutes before bedtime and when I went in, he was gone!" She was screaming and crying inconsolable. She'd checked the entire house, inside and out as well as the car. She'd looked up and down the street, but there was no sign of him. "What the hell's going on, Dex?" Debra asked when she heard the screams on the other end of the line. "Okay, okay. We'll be right there. Give us ten minutes, okay?" He turned to Deb and said, "Harrison's missing." "Jesus fuck! Missing? Holy mother of fuck! Let's go!" On the way there, his phone rang again. "Dex? Hey, it's Angel. Listen, I just wanted to let you know Hannah escaped from jail about three hours ago. I just wanted to give you a heads up in case, you know." Dexter didn't tell him about Harrison. He just thanked him and told Deb what Angel said. "Shit, fuck, shit! She took him! That...cunt! Jesus, Dexter. Do you think she'd hurt him?" Deb was shaking. "I don't know. I don't think so. It's me she wants. I'm sure we'll be hearing from her soon." After a thorough search of Jamie's apartment, Dexter and Debra was certain Harrison had been abducted. They asked Jamie not to tell Angel until she heard back from them. They got back in his car and headed back to their apartment to decide on a plan of action. On the way, Dexter's phone rang one more time. He put on speaker. "Daddy? It's me. Hannah came to pick me up and I'm staying at her house tonight, okay?" Dexter - The Right Ending He looked at Deb then said, "Oh, okay. That sounds great, buddy. Is everything okay?" "Sure! Of course it is. Hannah loves me and she's my friend right, Daddy?" "Yes, that's right. So you have fun, okay? Can Daddy talk to Hannah now?" "Okay, sure. Good-night, Daddy. I love you!" "I love you, too, Harrison." "Hello, Dexter. Looks like I finally have your attention. This isn't the kind of attention I wanted but I at least have it." "What do you want from me, Hannah?" he asked directly. "I want you. I want you to come here alone. No cops. No one else. Just you. Do that and Harrison goes home unharmed. Do anything else and he dies. It's that simple, Dexter. Even a sociopath like you should be able to understand that." "Where are you?" he asked. She gave him the address to an old house where her friend lived. "I'll be there in five minutes. I swear to God if you hurt him..." "That's up to you, Dexter. See you soon." "What are we gonna do?" Debra asked. "We? We're not going to do anything. I'm going in alone and you're going to wait in the car parked down the street so she can't see you." "And then what?" she asked frantically. "Whatever it takes to get my son back alive." Dexter told Deb to lay down in the back of his SUV. She wasn't surprised to find several rolls of plastic and tape in a large black bag along with his collection of knives. She pushed them out of her way and laid as flat as she could as Dexter pulled up about 50 yards from the house. "Get closer, Dex. If she's watching this will look suspicious," Debra called out from the back. "Good call, Detective," he said as he pulled up next to the house. "Don't move," he told her. When he got inside he saw her. She was sitting in a large chair holding a 9mm. "Have a seat...honey." Dexter sat about eight feet away from her on the sofa. "Okay, I'm here. Alone. No cops." "It's good to see you, Dexter. I wish it were under different circumstances, but this was the only way I could think of to make sure you'd agree to see me again." "So what do you want, Hannah?" he asked her. "A trade," she told him. "I'm listening," he replied. She held out a glass that appeared to be filled with iced tea. "It's a very simple proposition really. Your life for his." "Is that the same thing you put in Debra's tea at the restaurant?" "It is," she told him. "But you're getting five times the amount she got. Don't worry. It'll be painless. You'll get sleepy then it'll be over. You won't feel a thing. I promise." Deb had made her way to the front of the house and was able to see what was happening and called Vince Masuka, the pervert of Miami Metro homicide division. "Debra Morgan? Former Lieutenant Debra Morgan? Hey, I can sexually harass you now and you can't charge me!" He laughed that idiotic laugh and Debra cut him off, "Listen, I need your help right fucking now. I need the name of the stuff they found in my blood the night of the accident." He told her it would cost her when she lit into him, "Just fucking tell me the name of the shit or I swear to God I'll cut your fucking balls off, Masuka! "Okay, okay. Sheesh," he said. He told her the name and without thanking him she hung up and called Dr. Vogel. "It's Debra Morgan. Dex is deep shit. I need you to get the antidote for..." She gave her the name Masuka had told her then said, "Get it right fucking now and meet me at..." She provided the address and hung up the phone. "And hurry!" Hannah handed him the glass while keeping the weapon trained on his chest. "Drink up, lover," she said taunting him. Dexter drank about half of it before she said, "You know, it didn't have to end up like this, Dexter. I really loved you. I would have done anything for you. You know that, right?" He didn't reply. "Finish it," she told him. "A man your size requires a lot of um...medicating." "So how long will it take?" he asked as he set the empty glass down. "Not long. You'll start getting sleepy in about thirty minutes. Maybe an hour at most. Just depends. It's not an exact science, you know." "So why kill me? What does this do for you?" he asked her. "You of all people shouldn't have to ask me that, Dexter. You know why. This is justice." "I haven't killed anyone you know or care about. How is this justice?" She pointed the gun at his head and said, "You see, you killed me, Dexter. You broke my heart and sent me to jail. I'm not going back so I may as well be dead and justice demands an eye for an eye, right?" Debra saw the car approach. She'd told Vogel to turn off her lights well before she got there and she did just that. "I had to go to a local hospital to find this. I wrote a prescription and this is it," she said as she handed her a vial and a surgical needle. "Perfect. He drank her potion about 40 minutes ago. How does this remedy shit work?" Vogel explained it to her then Debra told her to leave and go straight home. Vogel knew enough not to ask any questions. From just outside the front window Debra watched as Dexter began to slowly nod off then lose consciousness. Hannah set down her gun and that's when Debra drew her weapon and kicked in the door in. "Where the hell am I?" Dexter asked. "In your car just outside the cargo container where I shot Laguerta," she told him. "Where's Harrison? Is he okay?" he said groggily. Debra pointed to the back seat where the boy was sound asleep under a blanket. "Come on. We've got business to take care of." He was still a little drowsy and his gait was unsteady, but he made inside the container with Deb's help. "Jesus! Deb. What the hell are you doing?" he asked when he saw the container prepared as a kill room. "What you should have done the first time," she told him. "But no, you let her live because she was too pretty or too whatever and both of us, along with Harrison, have paid a heavy price for your decision." Hannah was naked and wrapped in plastic from head to toe on the same table where Dexter had killed a man involved with his mother's murder before she shot and killed Captain Laguerta after Dexter had lured her there. "I was happy to find your stash of materials in the back of the car, Dex. Where you planning something or did I just get lucky?" she asked. "Deb. You can't do this. This isn't like Laguerta. It was me or her. But you don't have to kill Hannah." "Maria was innocent and I killed her in cold blood. But I did it to save you, Dexter. Hannah isn't innocent and I'm also going to kill her to protect you and me and Harrison." "Go ahead. Kill me," Hannah said. "If you don't, I'll kill you. And Dexter and Harrison." "Shut the fuck up, you worthless cunt!" Debra screamed. "You tried to kill me to get rid of your competition but you fucked up. Tonight, you tried to kill my brother and you fucked that up, too. Now let me tell you something, bitch. Dexter isn't my brother. That part you already know. He was adopted. And you probably also know I'm in love with him and anyone who tries to hurt him has to deal with me." She pulled out the largest knife in the bag and put her lips very close to Hannah's ear and whispered, "You hurt him, I hurt you." "Deb, don't!" he hollered as she lifted the knife and plunged into her heart. Blood shot everywhere but Deb had done a very meticulous job of hanging the plastic to avoid leaving any trace DNA behind. She released the handle and looked at Dexter. "Are you okay?" he asked her. "I just fucking killed another person for you, Dexter. How do you think I am?" she said her hands began to shake. Almost immediately her entire body began to tremble. Without thinking, Dexter took her in his arms and held her. He pulled her head down into the crook of his neck and stroked her hair. He held her until she stopped shaking then waited for her to look at him. "I love you, Deb," he told her. Her eyes were looking into his to see if he meant what he was saying. "I know you do, Dex," she replied. "But it's different now," he said softly. "I'm...in love with you. I'm in love with you, Deb." His eyes told her he was sincere but even so she said, "Don't kid around, Dex. Not about this. I have to know you mean every word of..." He kissed her. Softly at first then more passionately. She responded with a hunger she'd never known before as did he. After a very long, passionate kiss, she stopped and said, "Wait. I need to know something. Are you really in love with me, Dexter, or is this some kind of emotional response to what I did? I mean, did killing Hannah turn you on or something? Is that what this is all about?" "No. Killing her didn't turn me on. Don't get me wrong. She needed to die. But this did flip a kind of switch, Deb. It told me you really do accept me for who I am. It said you're no longer judging me because...you understand. And when that hit me, I was flooded with decades of pent-up emotions—things I'd never felt before." He pulled her close again and told her, "Feelings I've had...for you...but kept hidden. I think I've always been in love with you, Deb. It just took...this...to help me see it." He kissed her yet again then said, "Let's get this mess cleaned up so we can home. To our home. The place where we live. Where you and I live...together," he told her as he pulled back from their kiss. "By 'going home' do you mean..." she asked hopefully. "I do. You, me, the same bed—for the rest of our lives. Yeah, that's what I mean by going home." Three hours later they were dumping the remains of Hannah McKay overboard. Dexter turned the boat around and headed back to their home where they put Harrison to bed then stood staring at one another. "You really are beautiful, Deb," he told he as his hands cupped her face. "Give me two minutes, okay?" she asked as she slipped into her room. Dexter waited outside until she called his name. He opened the door and saw her and couldn't believe it was her. "Wow!" he exclaimed. "Do you like it?" she asked. "It's amazing. I don't think I've ever seen you in anything so...pretty...before." "I bought it a few weeks ago back when all I had was hope. I dreamed about wearing it for you many times. I don't normally do pretty but that's been a kind of protection from my feelings for you. I plan to change that starting right now." "Change? How so?" he said as he stood next to her. She was wearing a gorgeous silk nightie and robe and she'd put on some mascara and lip gloss. "I'm going to wear the kinds of things I know you like. Dresses, skirts, heels. I'm not going to go from tomboy to princess overnight, but I want to feel like a feminine woman. A woman in love with the man she's loved her whole life. And that's you, Dex. I love you." "I love you too...sweetheart," he said. He kissed her and slid the robe off her shoulders as she began unbuttoning his shirt. He helped with his pants and underwear then pushed back on the bed. He kissed her again and took her small breast in his hand. "God, yes!" she moaned. "It's about fucking time!" She reached down and touched him for the first time. "Speaking of 'about fucking time' isn't about time you fucked me?" she asked. "Almost," he said as he slid down between her legs and kissed her for the first time. His tongue and fingers explored her lips and love button causing her to gasp sharply and moan loudly. "Fuck, yes!" she said as he fingered her pussy and gently licked her clit. "Oh, shit!" she moaned. Dexter turned around and continued to use his tongue while offering her his hard, thick cock. "It's beautiful, Dexter," she said as she took him deep into her mouth. She did her best to reach up and massage his balls as he rocked up and down on her all the while pleasuring her with his tongue and fingers. He knew she was close to coming so he turned around and kissed her. "Are you ready?" he asked. "I've been ready, my love. I want you so bad I can't stand it. Please, please fuck me now, okay?" she begged. Her 'brother' encountered no resistance whatsoever as he slid gently inside her. "Oh, fuck yeah!" she cried as he began slowly pounding her wet pussy. "Yes, oh fucking yes!" she moaned. He stroked her slowly at first letting her feel all of him as he felt her. "God, you're beautiful," he said as she looked into his eyes. "I love you, Dexter. I love you so much." He increased the tempo until she was on the edge when he pushed up hard and ran the length of his cock against her clit. Debra screamed in delight as she shuddered and tensed and came harder than she ever had while her brother-lover transferred every drop of cum inside him to her body. Spent, they collapsed in one another's arms kissing and smiling. "How long 'til you can do that again?" she asked as she kissed him. She felt him growing hard again and smiled. "Oh, that long, huh?" They laughed and kissed and fucked each other again then slept in each others' arms for the first time ever. Six months later they were married in a small, private ceremony and a year after that, Debra gave Harrison a little sister, Debra Paige Morgan, whom they called by her middle name.