Harry and I met often and he was always on my mind. Even Rita noticed.

"Dexter baby?" She said in that soft voice that used to sooth. "How come you don't come around as often anymore?"

I shrugged but didn't look away. My father always said liars looked away.

"I'm just busy with work. There's a new serial killer out there." It didn't occur to me that there might be a reason I kept bringing up Harry in conversations with Rita, even in general form.

She stared at me for a moment, hoping to see something in my eyes. There never was anything. I couldn't understand what she was looking for to fake it.

She sighed and looked away. "I think you should leave."

"What? Why?" She pulled away from me, her head turned.

"I may not be very smart but I can tell when I'm being cheated on."

I just blinked at her. It hadn't occurred to me that I was cheating. My life with Harry was so far removed from the façade that was my relationship with Rita that it never occurred to me to compare them. She was a mask, part my human veneer. Harry was my….whatever.

I left without a fight and without remorse. I would miss Rita's soft smooth edges but it was rather liberating, walking from her house for the last time. The pressures she put on me had become extremely restricting and that empty place seemed to gape wider as I became more stressed.

Deb wanted to know what happened, in detail, so I introduced her to Harry.

"Wait I know you…Fuck! You're that kid from the case." She rounded on me with a look.

I raised my hands up in supplication with a grin. "You know you can't get involved with people on the case! You're compromised now!" I just shrugged. Harry smiled wickedly behind her. It amused us both how correct she was.

She pulled me aside and cussed me out for a while but accepted it. She didn't even comment, to much, on my apparent new sexuality. It wasn't about sex, though that was a surprising avenue I never expected, it was about the connection; of having someone I didn't have to pretend around.

He and I grew closer and our nonexistent feelings for each other flourished. We helped each other with hunts, and less frequently the actual kills. While it was nice to have someone who actually, truly, understood, hunting was personal and it was better to do it alone.

We didn't hide it thought. When we met up we discussed our most resent hunts which usually lead to frenzied kisses and intense encounters. I still wasn't interested in full on sex but reveling in our satisfied hunger was emotive.

It wasn't all the hunt, however, we shared personal details that I'd never told anyone. I suspected that Harry hadn't either but never knew for sure. He told me about Sirius and I told him about my foster dad. He laughed when I told him he and my dad had the same name. He found it fascinating that we each had someone who supported us. He read books upon books on people like us and found out that they had no one. I reminded him, that the people written about in books, had been caught or at least we known about. We were still completely unknown, thanks in part, to our supportive father figures.

Slowly having feelings and a connection with someone began to grow comfortable. I didn't feel itch in my skin when I thought of Harry anymore, just a warm soothing drip.

I thought I had it made.

Until they discovered my dump site.

I always took the body pieces to the bay and dumped them in the ocean, counting on the marine life to get rid of them. Unfortunately, the constant source of food attracted a plethora of life which caught the attention of some marine biologist students from the college. They found half consumed human flesh and bones and called the police.

Of course, they called me in.

Watching them pull up the body parts I'd put there felt like a violation and something must have showed on my face.

"Well..no blood" I said once they'd pulled them all up and left. I went straight to Harry who already knew, he was watching it on TV when I came in the door.

He didn't speak but we watched the news report together. I can't tell you how amazing it was to have that support again.

I spent the next month in a hazed existence. I only saw them parading my victims through the morgue once before I called in sick. I knew I was close to loosing it and I could tell Harry was worried. His art suffered as he took care of me.

My hunger got stronger and sloppier but I couldn't stop it. Harry started following me, cleaning up after me, silently watching me loose it. I wondered why he didn't cut his loses.

A month later I found Deb sobbing in my living room.

"I know it's you Dex." She said.

"What?" I pasted on my best confused smile.

"Dad knew, he helped you didn't he. That's what you were talking about in the hospital." her voice was monotone, she didn't expect an answer.

I just blinked and took off my coat, "What are you talking about sis?"

"Don't!" she choked. She held up a finger, "Just funk'n don't. I will get rid of what led me to you this time, but you have to leave. You have to fuck'n get out of town. I won't be able to cover for you and I won't. It's wrong!"

I didn't try to argue or protest. I just nodded and she left.

Four phone calls later and I was unemployed, my lease was broken, and the moving company was on its way to take my things to a storage facility. I packed enough clothes and necessities for two weeks and carefully packed my box of blood samples. When I opened the door to leave for the last time, Harry was leaning against the railing with a bag over his shoulder.

I cleared my throat, completely shocked.

"Deb called me. Said I should stay away from you. She mumbled something about how she couldn't be your connection." I stared at him wordlessly. "I'm coming with you. I'll be the only connection you need." He grinned and I nodded. I knew he'd follow me anyway, stubborn bastard.

The drive was quiet and Harry held my hand as we left the only city I'd ever lived in.

That hole inside me wouldn't ever be filled and I would never be normal but with Harry, I had hope that I'd never become a monster either.