DISCLAIMER: The Dexter characters are
the property of Showtime. The story contents are the creation and property of
Djinn and are copyright (c) 2013 by Djinn. This story is Rated R.
Unlikely Allies
by
Djinn
Deb
heard a knock on her door, opened it, and was stunned to see Hannah. "What?
You got tired of breaking in?"
Hannah
had the grace to look almost embarrassed. "I'm turning over a new leaf. The
spirit of détente and all that."
"Whatever.
What do you want?"
"We
need to talk."
Deb
moved so she was blocking the door more effectively. "No, we fucking do
not need to talk. Talking to you is about the last thing on a long list of
things I do not fucking want to do."
"It's
about Dexter. And not about Dexter and me." Hannah's expression was one
Deb didn't think she'd ever seen on her face. The arrogance was gone. This
was...fear?
"Okay.
I guess." Deb moved aside and let Hannah come in.
"By
the way, this is a great house."
"I
rent, it's not mine. And I'm a fucking slob in case you didn't notice."
"Well,
I didn't say it was a neat house." Hannah grinned and Deb found herself
responding to her, before she reminded herself that the woman standing across
from her making jokes about her housekeeping had tried to kill her. Had killed others.
But
she hadn't killed her the last time she'd the chance. And that was worth
something. Especially when Dexter and Harrison were both so goddamned
captivated by this murderous bitch.
This
murderous bitch who would probably end up being her sister-in-law. Deb hoped
Dexter hadn't told Hannah about her own feelings for him. That would redefine
awkward in a family already skirting the bleeding edge of weird.
"Can
I get you something to drink? I'm sure I have some rat poison I can add."
Hannah
laughed. "I deserve that." She sat on the couch and shook her head. "You
know Doctor Vogel, right?"
"Yeah."
Deb didn't know how much or little Hannah knew about Vogel, so she wasn't going
to give anything away.
"She
made the code for Dexter. He feels like she's his...family."
Deb
nodded.
"I
don't think she is." Hannah met her eyes; there was no bullshit in her
expression, just pure concern. "We had dinner with her. Dexter, Zach, and
me. Dexter took me back to my hotel and Vogel drove Zach home."
"Dexter
told me Zach's dead. That the Brain Surgeon isn't dead—we thought we got him."
"Maybe
Vogel let you think that. From what Dexter said, Yates didn't fit the profile. But
Vogel said it was over, and you two wanted it to be over, didn't you?"
Deb
looked down. Yes, she had fucking wanted it to be over. Saving Vogel from Yates
helped put her back on a good path. She'd done something right.
Stopped
a serial killer.
Saved
a woman who was trying to help her.
Made
up a little for what she'd done in that container.
"Who
is this woman?" Hannah asked softly. "What do we know about her?"
We?
They were a fucking we now? Jesus. "She was married. Her husband is
dead."
"Kids?"
Deb
shrugged. "What is it you're accusing her of exactly?"
"Dexter
thinks Vogel showed up because of the Brain Surgeon. But the Brain Surgeon didn't
show up until Vogel did."
"Chicken,
egg?"
"Right.
Why is she here? Here where her little prodigy lives and works. What if she's
here to give Dexter a chance to show her how well he learned the lessons she
gave him." Hannah smiled and let out a puff of air—Deb realized it was an
angry laugh. "Gave him his Dark Passenger."
"Gave
it to him?"
"Sociopaths
don't love, Debra. I do. You do. We're not sociopaths even if we've both killed
people."
Deb
narrowed her eyes. Had Dexter told Hannah about LaGuerta?
"Mine was in the line of duty."
"Right,
but still..." Hannah's expression didn't change. Maybe Dexter could keep a
fucking secret from the love of his life. "Dexter waited until he was
nineteen to kill someone. Waited years."
"So?
Our dad was holding him back."
"You
can't hold back a psychopath. I know. I dated one. Remember?" She looked
down. "I fell into it when I met Wayne. I murdered someone, gave into the
violence, but I felt no pleasure once it was done. I didn't want to do it
again."
"We
both know you did, though."
"Not
the same way. With Wayne, it was stabbing. It's so...personal. So intimate."
She took a deep breath. "I'm giving you this, Debra, because I want you to
believe me when I tell you that I think Vogel made Dexter into a killer. Made him. Not molded his tendencies but
gave him them."
Deb
frowned. "My dad was convinced Dexter would kill."
"But
who did he work with? Who convinced him? Dexter told me that your dad went to
her with concerns. Dexter had a fascination with blood. He was born in it, just
old enough to remember—even if it was in his subconscious—sitting in it for
days, just feet from the body of his hacked-up mother. The smell of that in a
hot container. Deb, I think he was just a boy—perhaps a troubled one, but still
just a boy—looking for answers. Not a monster. I think she made him into a
killer. And I think she's here to see just how well she did. And maybe this
Brain Surgeon is another one like him. One of her creations."
"As
theories go, this is really out there." She got up and went into the
kitchen. "Soda?"
"Water?"
She
tossed Hannah a bottle and grabbed a can of soda for herself. "Why would
she do this?"
"Because
she's bored. She said at dinner the other night that boredom is the greatest
enemy, not danger. And she kept harping on how Dexter and I have a bond."
Deb
laughed softly. "Yeah, she's done that with me, too. Is always so
surprised he can love a sister. Love anyone."
"Do
you know that she asked Dexter why he didn't just kill you when you found out
about him?"
"What?
Fuck no, she didn't."
"She
did. He told me. It surprised him she'd even ask. You're family." Hannah
took a long pull from the water bottle. "He betrayed me for you. He loves
you. He loves me, too. He loves his son more than anything. He is capable of
emotion. I think he's capable of empathy, too. It just hasn't been developed
because your dad didn't think he had any and Doctor Vogel encouraged that."
"You
really think she made him into a killer?"
Hannah
nodded. "And I think she's going to take everything he loves away from him
in this game—whatever it is—she's playing. We need to get Harrison away from
here."
Deb
studied Hannah. Saw only concern. "Do you love Harrison?"
Hannah
nodded. "I was pregnant once. I had a miscarriage. I really wanted that
baby. Harrison fills that void. Not in a 'kidnap him and run off' way, but just
that he's so sweet."
"He
loves you, too. It's sickening, frankly." She rolled her eyes at Hannah's
smile. "His grandparents are in Orlando. Jamie could for sure use a change
of scene. But Dexter's not going to buy it."
"Whoever
killed Zach left him in Dexter's apartment. He'll buy it, Deb."
"It's
Deb now, is it?"
"Why
not?"
"I
don't understand what Zach was even doing there, in that hotel room in the
Keys."
"The
intern Dexter mentioned..."
"Oh,
fuck me. I thought he meant Masuka's daughter. You
mean he was taking on interns for...being a psychopath?"
"You
make it sound so...dirty." She smiled and took another pull of her water. "He
was actually a nice kid, I think, if you don't count that he'd murdered some
folks. Dexter could have helped him."
"I
do not want to know this. I said it then and I'm saying it now. Fucking son of
a bitch, what is wrong with all of you?"
"It's
not us. Vogel suggested Dexter take on Zach. When Dexter was going to take care
of Zach in his usual way, Vogel said Dexter would feel something from this. A
loss, sadness. But then Dexter didn't kill him. So she
had to do it for him—or whoever the Brain Surgeon is did it. Which of us will
be next? She knows how much he cares." Hannah frowned. "His neighbor
had a new boyfriend. He was a suspect, right?"
"For
a hot minute. He had an alibi."
"Did
it check out?"
"I'm
not a cop anymore, remember?"
"What
if he's the Brain Surgeon? Vogel's other son. Maybe even a real son." Hannah
stood up, started to pace. "I can't snoop around too much. I'm wanted,
after all. And Vogel knows I wasn't all that warm at dinner."
"You?
Cold? No." Deb laughed and rolled her eyes.
"I
asked her what got her initially interested in studying serial killers. She
said there was an incident but then backed off. There's something in her past. You
can find it. You can find out when she really got here—was it before or after
the Brain Surgeon started killing, because Dexter said she was called in, but
she looked very much at home in her little house."
Deb
thought about it. Vogel really did look cozy there and a lot of the stuff
looked like hers not just the furniture and knick
knacks that came with a furnished rental.
Hannah
leaned back and shook her head. "Elbows."
"Excuse
me?"
"Zach
had his elbows on the table. She told him to take them off. It was the thing
only a mother would do."
"Or
a bossy headshrinker. Do you think maybe you're making too much of this? I'm
sorry your little mini Dexter is dead. Oh, wait, no I'm not. He killed someone."
"You
tried to kill Dexter."
Fucking
dickhead—so much for Dexter keeping secrets. "Don't know what you're
talking about."
Hannah
smiled. "Yeah, you do."
"So
what? You're blackmailing me?"
"No.
Dexter wouldn't like it. I consider it mutually assured destruction. You turn
me in, I tell on you." There was something in her eyes that told her she
knew more—but Deb really could not see Dexter trusting her with the details
about LaGuerta. More likely Hannah was just a hell of
a poker player.
"You
said you wouldn't hurt me since it would hurt Dexter, too."
"There
may be a limit to that if you turn me in." She leaned in. "That pen
Dexter gave you is all that links me to Sal Price. I'd be a free woman if you
were to, say, get rid of it."
"Not
a police officer—you hard of hearing?"
Hannah
pointed to the paperwork strewn on the table. "Looks like you soon will be
again."
"Fuck
you."
"We're
getting off track. We can save our mutual dislike for later. Dexter...I think
he loves Vogel. As a mother. The mother he wanted but never felt close to. He's
not going to want to believe this."
Deb
hated to admit blondie was right, but she'd thought the same thing. "So I check her out and you...?"
"She's
fascinated by me. I think she won't move until she fully understands me—or
thinks she does. I can make that happen, seek her help."
"So,
what? You're going to go to therapy with her?"
"She
did wonders with you, right? Maybe she'll cure me." Hannah's smile was
annoying times a million. "Although this would be a lot easier if I wasn't
a fugitive."
"I'm
not taking the fucking pen out of evidence. I didn't take you into custody when
I found you in the Keys. That's the most you're getting from me."
"And
we'll work together on this. For Dexter?"
Deb
nodded. "If we could just find the tapes of her sessions with Dexter. Those
might shed some light on things."
"I'm
pretty good at breaking in if you know where they are." Hannah looked
pointedly at Deb's sliding glass door.
"You
are a fucking pain in the ass. I really don't like you."
"Do
you like any women, Deb? How many female friends do you have?"
"How
many do you have, you stupid bitch?"
"Bitch...okay,
maybe. But I'm not stupid. And neither are you—I thought you were and that was
a mistake." Hanna put her feet up on the table. "So, when do you want
to break into Vogel's house?"
Deb
closed her eyes and prayed to the god of fuck-ups on the road to redemption for
strength. "I don't want to break in."
Hannah
smiled and waited.
"We
play it by ear. I'm not sitting in a car with you, staking out her house, in
case that's what you were thinking."
"Would
you recognize the man who was dating Dexter's neighbor?"
"No.
I'd barely recognize her, to be honest. Talked with her once."
"There
are probably pictures at the police station. How quickly will you be
reinstated?"
"As
a hire back. Providing I pass the fucking drug test"—Hannah's eyes
widened, but Deb ignored her—"next week, probably."
"So I just lie low and you get your job back. And then we
take it from there."
"I
feel dirty already." Deb sighed. "What the fuck does he see in you
anyway?"
Hannah
smiled. "He just sees me. The real me."
"And
you see the real him, don't you? It doesn't bug you."
Hannah
shrugged. "He is who he is."
And
that was no doubt why Dexter would never choose Deb, even if Hannah were
dead—or had never come on the scene at all. Because no matter what, Deb would
always want the man she thought he was, not the man he really was.
But
what if Hannah was right? What if the man he really was wasn't the man he
should have been? What if Vogel had fucked up a troubled boy?
Deb
had an answer for that. She'd shot her captain to protect Dexter. This thing
with Vogel was way more black and white. If Vogel got
in her way, she would be fucking history.
"You
look scary." Hannah's voice was full of approval, not fear.
Deb
gave her the knowing smile that annoyed most people. "And don't you forget
it."
FIN