A/N: So I had to. I HAD to. Spoilers for 7.12.

I don't own Dexter, no profit was had during the making of this madness.


You let him lead you, your fingers hanging off his shirt like rain water refusing to drop. You don't know where you're going. A band plays to your left, jazz thrumming out of the mouths of brass instruments. Fireworks work a beat in the sky, bombs shooting upwards to explode.

What have you done?

Your heart races faster than you've ever known, and it could rip right out of your skin and you wouldn't notice.

You feel water rushing at your heels, foam catching between your toes and sand sinking under you.

Dexter stands in front of you and holds your hands, his own wet with the ocean and he washes the blood from your arms. The two of you stand in the sea as it crashes into your legs, your shins and cleanses you—but you're not clean, you'll never be clean again.

You remember her eyes after you killed her, like glass. You'd screamed into her clothes, tasted her blood and cried and cried. You hit Dexter, struck him at his shoulder as he tried to steer you from the body, but he hadn't felt a thing and you know that.

His fingers brush against your dress as he looks at the blood there—even in the dark he can see it, the man with the lizard brain.

You don't think when you look at his mouth and crash into it with your own. He raises his arms and pushes you away, his hands grasping firmly at your wrists as he looks incredulous.

"Deb, what the fuck?"—fast, like some bullet of a sentence, Dexter the Defensive.

You can barely hear him in the midst of the crashing waves and racing heart throbbing in your ear.

And you can't hear yourself because your body is screaming, falling, breaking apart but you try to speak any way.

"I have nothing left. I have nothing left!"

Your voice is screaming, an echo through the waves and Dexter looks on like he's being swallowed by something, his eyes hollow but trying to be there, but he's drifting away. You're losing him.

You know what it feels like so well, like the feeling there's something under your bed and suddenly you're a child again, tangled in your sheets during a bad dream and god if only this could all just be a bad fucking dream!

"Dexter!" you shout because you can't see him anymore, and he holds you close and you open your eyes and he's standing right there.

"Deb, I'm here, I'm right here."

"Oh God…" you cry and your knees buckle.

The ocean splashes around you and you bring Dexter down, but he doesn't let you go and you haven't lost everything yet.

You cry and the sea swallows your tears.