Author's Note: Because season finales deserves fan fiction. It is known.

"We all make rules for ourselves. It's these rules who help to find who we are. So when we break those rules we risk losing ourselves and become something unknown. Who is Deb now? Who am I? Is this a new beginning? Or the beginning of the end?"

As they held each other for support, his mind wandered. Above their heads, a night sky shattered with bursts of fireworks. The people around them hollered and cheered, hands and hugs passed forward. He didn't know how many people hugged him, or how many people shook his hand. He didn't know what they were muttering while drinking up champagne, beer and myriads of cocktails.

The only thing he was aware of was her grasp on him. And even that was fading with the numbness that took over him. After finding a spot for them to just stood still, Dexter had allowed himself to be engulfed by thoughts.

They didn't look at each other, they only stood there side by side, her hand loosely holding his arm, while her body swayed, caught up in the trance of the kill.

The kill.

Her kill… For him. For Harrison. For them…

My god. What had she done?... What had he done? He shook his head. The query could only grow more complex in his mind: what had he made her do?

"Deb?" he muttered, unsure, as she held him, staring blankly at the horizon.

She was shattered. However unharmed, Dexter could see that she was bleeding on the inside, shattered and lost, after pulling that trigger.

Dexter was ready to die at that moment. He was ready to die for her… and by her hands. He had surrendered himself to her judgment. His sister, the most truthful, honest person he had ever encountered in his whole life. If anyone, she was the person to judge him and to end him. She was the one who had the righteous power to point a gun at him, find him guilty and shoot. If that's what it would take to set her free from his doings, he would gladly accept it. Because it was never going to end, not while he lived…

"You're a good person" he had said, only reinforcing what LaGuerta, desperate to save her own life, had said. And at that moment, he had the sudden realization that he could do it. He could easily die to save her. He wasn't a good person, but she was. Good enough to love him despite everything he had done… It took him his whole life, but Dexter slowly realized that it was him who had done all the killing, not an entity called "the dark passenger". He had no passenger inside him, nothing as flimsy as a "passenger", detached of himself, and supposedly, something that could, well, eventually "pass", as he had, for many times, thought it was possible.

No. He was guilty. He was the one to blame. And he wasn't about to drag Deb deeper into the abyss with him. He had to let her go. He was doing all of that for her.

"It's okay", and he dropped his knife, the tears welling up in his eyes… My god, he would miss Harrison. "Do what you gotta do".

God, how he had wished… If she had just pointed at him… But instead… It was LaGuerta who she killed. She chose to fall even deeper, she chose to jump into the abyss with both feet. And she screamed.

As she ran to her kill, lying lifelessly on the ground, she screamed.

He couldn't touch her. She had looked into his eyes, her soul was in shreds, she was being ripped open at that moment… And he couldn't bring himself to raise a hand in her direction and touch her. Instead, he had curled up on the corner and watched her mourn. Not only the life she had just taken, but her own life. Dexter had mourned for her too. Even without a knife, he found himself able to cut her open and make her bleed.

My god, in how many ways he could destroy her…

When Dexter felt her body give way to gravity, the turned and grabbed her right on time. The people around them, too busy getting drunk, didn't notice anything at all – her paleness, her eyes, the trembling in her hands. He was the only one to see all of this.

Dexter had the front seat to watch his beloved sister be ripped into shreds.

"Deb, do you wanna sit?"


Despite her answer, Deb didn't look at him. She just shook her head and stood up, back on her feet, still grasping his arm.

Suddenly, they became very aware of their surroundings.

Suddenly, both of them were suffocating. "We need to get out of here" she said, her hold on his arm getting tighter.

She was right. New Year had already been celebrated. They must have stayed there for fifteen minutes straight, everyone had saw and spoken to them. They had their cover.

Dexter nodded and turned to leave. Deb followed him, still holding his arm, as if holding for dear life. Her grasp burned a hole in Dexter, and he didn't know why.

My god, what had he done?

For the first time in his life, he would kill for survival. He would kill to protect his life, his former "cover life". The story of the mask man who suddenly was the mask. It was imprinted on his face now. What had started as a mask suddenly became a tattoo, impossible to be washed away.

He wasn't two different people after all, he hadn't an entity living in his body, he wasn't a cold blooded killer who felt no remorse, love or hate. He was real.

And at that moment, he hated it.

What would become of them?

As he made his way through the crowd, Deb let go of his arm for one second, and that was enough to make him turn. She was falling apart. She was about to burst into tears once again.

Without thinking, he just grabbed her by her hand, firmly, almost painfully, and brought her back to him.

"We're getting out of here" he whispered to her, and she nodded.

And before anyone could notice, they were off.

To where, not even Dexter could say.

End Notes: Although a loving fan of Dexter, I've never, so far, got involved with its fandom. I rarely read fanfiction about it, let alone write it. I don't even lurk about the discussion boards or anything, so I'm completely and utterly outside the realm of Dexter fandom. I don't know your slang for couples or anything else, and I don't go about YouTube adoringly watching Dexter/Debs vids. I've gone down this path before with a fandom, and, at least for me, it's an all-consuming hobby, so I made the wise decision to stay back this time.

However, as it is, the producers left me with no option this year, but to dive right back into the deep blue sea that is fanfiction. I just had to write it, I couldn't bear the ending for itself. And I don't know about you, dear reader, but I've missed a bit more of "bonding" between Dexter and Deb this season, which was supposed to be the big "it's-all-out" season – with Deb knowing who Dexter really is and with Dexter knowing how Deb really feels about him. Nonetheless, what I watched was a bunch of run-abouts episodes with the minimum of bonding between them. Well, that got me frustrated as hell, especially because I thought season 7 was the last.

And what do fans do when they're frustrated with their show? Well, they write fanfiction, of course! And so, this is the story of how I succumbed to old vices. Hope it gets some appreciation, though.

May Dexter/Deb's relationship doesn't get us frustrated next season!