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Thread: Cough Drops and Corpses: A Dexter RP (SevenxWine)

Dexter had spent the day trying not to think about how there would be police in his south beach condo, sitting down to talk to Rita about what had happened, eyeing the place the way that cops always did, because they were looking for things out of place - it was their job, it was second nature, but in his mind's eye, he saw them approaching his air conditioner, or thinking it sounded a little strange. He shook his head he wasn't usually given to flights of fancy, but it had become more recent as of late - since New York, in fact. No, since before that. Since meeting Brian, back when he was calling himself 'Rudy' and dating Deb, that was when it had started, when he had started dreaming and getting nightmares - some part of him had known the truth, but it hadn't been a conscious part, which left Dexter questioning what else his subconscious could be hiding from him. How much more, after all, could there be? The hours went by in a whirl of blood and paperwork, and Dexter made a point of avoiding Doakes - who had been sniffing far too close lately - for the rest of his shift. It proved to be difficult, because it seemed the Sergeant was making a point of appearing wherever he was these days, usually remaining silent and just staring at him with the same look that had long ago told Dexter that the bigger man had a few skeletons in his closet too - though there probably weren't as many, and they likely weren't wrapped up quite as neatly as his were. Dexter made sure to keep that in mind if Doakes became a problem, he would want - Blood. Blood. Stalk him, hunt him down, cut his neck and watch him bleed. - leverage. He pressed his palm against his eye like a man fighting an oncoming headache, but it was the Passenger he was pushing back - the Passenger, who had suddenly just climbed up his throat and told him things, right while he was sitting at his desk at work. Instead of the usual quiet hisses and gentle goading, his darkness had just lunged at him like a crazed animal, the way it had done when he and Brian had been in the same room together. Take him cut him he's nothing but if you do it you can make him something, he'll have meaning again not another worthless human stain, he can be - Suddenly flushed, Dexter eyed the clock he had always been precise with his work schedule, never late, never leaving early, never taking days off - but he had broken that last rule for Brian, and suddenly he was going to be breaking another - because right then, he felt like a schoolboy who had suddenly been caught in class with an unfortunate adolescent problem in his cargos. He had to leave he needed to get out of there. For the first time in all of his years working for the Miami department, Dexter Morgan the fastidious lab rat clocked out an hour early, having hastily packed his equipment and paperwork, and left the building in enough of a hurry that Angel and Masuoka exchanged glances from across the station.
Thread: Cough Drops and Corpses: A Dexter RP (SevenxWine)

As much as Brian desperately wanted to be near Dexter, he knew better. More than anything, he wanted to be camped outside the police station, watching. But he had waited before, and now it was a more dangerous game than before. Too many people recognized him, especially near the police station, for him to be safe at all. It wasn't the kind of desire that could be slaked with something like a photograph. Brian was sentimental, but an odd sort. He wanted to watch Dexter sleep again. 'Of course, if I'm not very careful,' he thought as his date crumpled to the floor in Rita's kitchen, and he tilted his head to stare at the odd angle of her broken neck, 'I won't get that chance.' And then he cleaned her up, tidied the kitchen. Not the best job. Not even a particularly satisfying job, but she'd been a slut who wasn't even worth his time. He supposed it fit that she didn't really get it, but he was still starving. He flipped open the phone he'd gotten from her hip pocket before he had dumped her into the river, shouldering the door to his hotel room open as he began typing a text message to Dexter's number Dexter's number being one of those things that he had seen once and had never forgotten, would never forget. Normally Brian liked to work with more finesse than this, but times were tight and desperate. Besides, Dexter already knew the game, knew what he wanted. What was the point of another facade? You missed a real treat tonight.
Thread: Cough Drops and Corpses: A Dexter RP (SevenxWine)

Dexter had never been easily shaken maybe that's what was what troubled her so much about his expression. Something seemed off, and that was unusual for him. She sighed and passed him the glass of water, concern on her face as she crooked her brow and studied his face. Or maybe she was just reading too deeply into things again. She'd always done that, even if she had only recently began to voice those concerns. It had never occurred to her until after Paul had - been killed the thought still jilted her a little bit, even if she was reluctant to admit it how well she fit the 'battered wife' stereotype. Oh well. That's not who she was anymore. She had moved on... and she had a good man to show for it. Rita pressed her hand briefly to the side of Dexter's face, running her thumb across a line of the sweat, before she pointed to his couch and headed hastily for the air conditioner to turn it on a bit higher. Sit, would you? I'll get dinner started.. I was going to take the kids home tonight, the police didn't find anything this morning, we can't hide forever, but maybe it's a good thing we're still here. Not that she was in a hurry to move in with Dexter. She wanted to take it slow with him, and she was. And as empowered as she was - mother of two with a job, she still enjoyed making dinner for her man. Not that Dexter's kitchen was overflowing with groceries, but there was enough for some soup, and she'd go out to pick up a salad while it was cooking. Mother of two with a job, but not a great job. She had learned to feed a family on a budget, but none of them were going hungry. Dex, just sit down and I'll get you something to eat.. the kids are at a friend's house, I figured you didn't want them running around here, and the peace and quiet has been nice.. we'll talk in a minute, okay? She braced her hands on his shoulders, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek, before leaving him with the water. And Brian was left in his room, staring at the phone. He'd known this time that he wasn't going to get an answer, but he knew Dexter if his brother was being this callous, then he was bothered. Mission accomplished. If he could only figure out how to achieve the rest of his goals.
Thread: Cough Drops and Corpses: A Dexter RP (SevenxWine)

Dexter didn't protest Rita's hands felt cool in comparison to the furnace that his skin had become and he dragged himself to the couch, silently obeying the command of the tiny blonde it occurred to him that he must look like a mess right then - he never got like this, he had always been collected at the worst of times, didn't lose his temper, didn't lash out. Well, not in ways she had seen . The incident with Paul, he'd maybe acted a bit - rashly. Maybe slamming a cast iron frying pan into his skull hadn't been the best response, and maybe dragging his body to his car and wiping the blood up with his sock hadn't been a great way to follow it up, either, but really, it had all turned out for the best anyways. But this was strange behaviour for him he knew he looked ill, tense. He would need to make up an excuse, but he couldn't use work as the reason, couldn't let Rita think stress was getting to him. Of course, he couldn't tell her it was because his estranged serial killer brother was trying to seduce him with a trail of dead bodies, either. We'll talk in a minute, she had said. Dexter didn't like those words because it meant he would need to think fast, to come up with something reasonable quickly, but his brain wasn't working the way he wanted it to, it just kept crawling back to the brief stay in New York and the way Brian's eyes flashed in the dark. Dexter barely suppressed another shudder he really was a mess, and Rita's kiss was still burning on his cheek while the Passenger's voice whispered in his ear. He couldn't even turn to his blood slides for comfort, not with Rita there - it was a side of him he could never let her see. But then, he remembered, Rita had looked into his darkness before - she just hadn't realized what she was seeing. The first time it had happened, she had called him passionate, wild he hadn't bothered to tell her that she had actually been experiencing what homicide would feel like if it was translated to sex. The Passenger needed something. Anything. Dexter rose from the couch and moved around it in one fluid motion, stopping for a moment with his hand resting on the back of it, eyes on Rita, chin tilted down slightly he watched her for a long moment, moving through the kitchen, pale and small. When she finally looked at him, she did a double-take, gave him one of those nervous white smiles and tucked a bit of blonde hair back behind her ear, Dex? She asked. He said nothing he simply began to slink towards her in a way that had her gaping at him. The soup didn't get made, but the ingredients wound up strewn around the pristine kitchen as poor Rita was mauled through the entire condo, and some time later while they laid on the bed in a sweaty heap, she observed that very occasionally he was like an animal. With no witty response available, all Dexter managed to do was give a half-hearted growl that left Rita clutching her sides in laughter.
Thread: Cough Drops and Corpses: A Dexter RP (SevenxWine)

Brian was a man who worked with plans - who had worked with plans his entire life. At the institution he laid careful ones, all in his head, of course he couldn't leave any sort of paper trail. It was too dangerous, and besides, he had no reason to when he could hold it all in his head. Every action he made was the chance to get some sort of a response, an opportunity to get closer to what he needed. Of course, he had made too many mistakes when he was young. On his way to becoming a sociopath, he said. Antisocial personality disorder. He was the Boy Without a Conscience, tossed from home to home to institution to home, but he was okay with that for a while. It kept things fresh, original. It wasn't until he was well into adolescence that the full repercussions of being branded with that title might mean. People would judge. Become suspicious. There was no way to clean his record at that point, so he worked at becoming better, cleaning up, and planned his moves for the future. Different names. Different identities. It was the ultimate anonymity, wasn't it? With enough careful talking and research and work , he could become anyone in the world that he wanted to be. So, understandably, when Brian's plans failed to pan out, he became frustrated. He needed more of a response from Dexter. He needed his brother to want this as much as he did, but he was resisting every step of the way. Not that there wasn't a thrill in this. Challenge was what excited him, got him up in the mornings, but he was impatient. He had waited too long for this, had gotten such a taste of it in New York... .. he closed his eyes, remembering Dexter's face. The couch. Dexter was in. Would be in. Brian just had to coax it out of him. But what could he do? Another attack on Dexter's family.. he just wasn't ready for that. He couldn't imagine it would be met with anything other than a jab of a needle to the throat, and it just wasn't what Brian was ready for. Stopping by the apartment was risky, he knew that, especially with Rita's car in the parking lot, but it was pushing three AM and he had few other choices. He slipped an envelope beneath the door, sealed and lettered with Dexter's name on the front in slanted, masculine handwriting it contained a message that simply said You can't run from the past forever. We need to talk. I'll be at home. The police had long since stopped keeping surveillance on the old Moser home. Stupid to return there, maybe, but it was the place that contained the only real -good- memories that he had, and besides, it was mostly boarded up now, most of the windows shattered from where neighborhood kids had started tossing rocks at them. Not a place to live anymore, but a place to sit in the kitchen and reflect. He had no idea if Dexter would take this bait, either, but damnit all, he had to get his plan back on track somehow. overwhelms you with posts, disregard this if you like!
Thread: Cough Drops and Corpses: A Dexter RP (SevenxWine)

It was the dusty couch in the house that Brian had retreated to while waiting for Dexter. It was certainly a scene out of a shitty goth movie he lay on the cushions in the dark, his arms folded lazily across his stomach as he stared at the ceiling. His face was slack, almost drowsy. Occasionally a car would putter by, and dim lights would arc across the ceilings and walls from the headlights through the dirty window panes. Dexter had to answer. He had tried and tried, pushed as much as far as he felt he could, safely. Was it too late? Had it been too long? Brian's eyes focused on the ceiling before he shut them and inhaled a low breath. For some inexplicable reason, gooseflesh crawled across his arms. He wasn't used to feeling panic. Dread. But since his birth in the shipping container, he had never thought that he would be denied by the one thing in the world that meant anything to him. His eyes popped open. Dexter would answer. There was no other possible option. He was the only other person who understood the craving, had felt the urges. Brian had seen it in his eyes, even when Dexter was playing faithful and loving boyfriend. It was a facade, and a damn good one, but that didn't make it any less fake. And he had seen it again when they were in New York, sharing a kill, working in perfect tandem. But he was alone now, wasn't he? This was supposed to be the future he was working toward, but at the most crucial moment, it had broken, taken the wrong track. Then he heard Dexter's car and he sat up quickly, feeling himself relax. No. This was right. This was better. Things would go according to plan, and hastily Brian stood up, moving to silently tread to the door, frozen and silent save for the sounds of his own breathing. He chuckled humorlessly, leaning forward as he reached for the doorknob. That was Dexter's car. He will be standing there. And he was. Immediately, Brian surged forward, wrapping his arms tightly around his younger brother and pressing his face into the side of his neck, letting out a low groan. Thank God, he said quietly. I was afraid that you were going to stand me up.
Thread: Cough Drops and Corpses: A Dexter RP (SevenxWine)

Dexter had allowed himself to be distracted when he should have been vigilant, and he might have paid for his inattentiveness if things had gone differently. Of course, he had expected Brian to be there, had expected that he would have to confront him - he had even expected that he might be ambushed by his bigger brother, because really, it was what he would have done if the roles had been reversed. He had expected everything except for what happened. Brian appeared in front of him, having thrown the door out of the way with such intensity that it bounced back against the wall Dexter's head snapped up, every muscle tensing in preparation for a fight, but what came was somehow the worst thing that could have happened. Instead of attacking like the predator he was, Brian strolled forward and wrapped his wiry arms around him, tugging him in and pressing his face into his throat Dexter could feel his eyelashes against his adam's apple. There was no fight. He was being held. He was being pulled into strong, warm arms, and held close to someone just like him, someone who knew , who understood - a monster just like him. And it felt good. Dexter wasn't sure where it came from, but he found himself saying No. A strange ache opened up in Dexter's chest, his hands sliding up to Brian's slim waist, gloved fingers curling against a narrow ribcage and he began to push, just a little he could feel Brian's muscles shifting under his palms, even through the leather, and suddenly the feeling of the other man's body against his own felt like too much - he didn't know why. All he knew was that he had to get it away from him, or something inside of him was going to break. He moved his hands to Brian's upper arms instead, trying to minimize contact, trying to pull away, but Brian was strong for how thin he was, No. Dexter repeated hoarsely, and his movements were suddenly more violent, like a startled animal, a wolf caught in a steel trap as he shoved Brian hard, bringing a knee up in a kidney shot.
Thread: Cough Drops and Corpses: A Dexter RP (SevenxWine)

That brief moment that Dexter froze while Brian held him made the struggle, the fight to get him there worth it. The warmth of the other man's body against his own - the fact it was his little brother's, little Dexter's, the boy he had promised his mom he would protect. Of course, 'protect' meant something a lot different now than it did when they were small children. No more scraped knees and bee stings. Brian would protect Dexter from himself. From the stupid Code that he followed so diligently. That was no way for someone like them to live. It was beneath the both of them. He felt him start to shift away, but he didn't release him then, instead exhaling a reluctant, acknowledging sigh. Dex just wasn't ready. No matter how much he wanted him to be ready, it would take a little time. And then Dexter made the blow to his kidney and Brian let out a muffled yell, releasing him and stumbling back. His eyes were wide as he stared at Dexter, his expression like a child whose feelings had been hurt, but he forced himself to relax, and when he smiled, it was toothy, weirdly white in the dark room. You're wearing your gloves, he said softly, catching his breath as he held his side, before he paced to the couch and took a seat. You at least owe your big brother a cup of coffee before you take him out back and kill him, you know. It's not my fault you never answered any of my calls. So he had to convince Dexter, or die. He folded his hands into his lap and quirked an eyebrow at him. Shut the door behind you, would you? And wipe your feet.
Thread: Cough Drops and Corpses: A Dexter RP (SevenxWine)

He watched intently as Brian stumbled back - the strike was satisfying on two levels the first was the one that had been groomed by Harry Morgan, the one that told him bad people should be punished, and it was his job to do it. The remaining delight came from the Passenger, who had been craving any sort of contact with Brian, and seemed to relish the idea of scrapping with him again - though, it was the one time his darkness didn't approve of killing someone the Passenger wanted to have Brian around. Wanted to keep him - however that would have to happen. You could just take the troublesome pieces off and keep the rest. Dexter's eyes fell down to his own hands, to the skin-tight gloves that clung to his fingers, and his eyes moved back up as his brother offered a lightning fast smile that made him feel hungry. Dexter stood in place, fingers clenching and unclenching rhythmically, craving contact and a throat to squeeze, shoulders hunched, eyes boring into Brian - everything about him right then told the dark tale of a predator looking for a fight - - but then Brian spoke again, and a perplexed expression crawled across Dexter's features. It was almost with disbelief that he watched Brian move across the room and slink down onto the couch, like a lazing cat. For a long moment, Dexter continued to stare at Brian, and as his brother watched him and remained seated so casually, Dexter couldn't help suddenly feeling stupid, and some part of him wanted to go back out the door, get in his car, and go back to bed. He couldn't help wondering if that was a normal reaction to family. Maybe. Regardless, he found himself numbly moving back to the door and closing it. As an after-thought, he locked it, and the sound of the bolt sliding seemed to echo through an otherwise silent home. As he turned and moved towards the couch, he found himself suddenly hyper-aware of the world around him, and he stood in front of Brian, staring down at him as he sat primly, expression shifting between the predatorial one, and something puzzled. For a long moment, there was complete silence, and then words slipped from Dexter before he could really think about them, even though they came out deadpan Deb always wanted a cat. he said.
Thread: Cough Drops and Corpses: A Dexter RP (SevenxWine)

The perplexed expression on Dexter's face meant a lot to Brian at that moment. It meant that he hadn't made any real decisions yet - perhaps he had decided, but he hadn't decided, not with conviction real enough to storm in there and take him out. It pleased him, but he didn't want to admit that much. Instead, he just watched Dexter with a muted smile as he moved to the couch and took a seat, before he leaned slightly to the side and, very lightly, rested his hand on his younger brother's wrist. Yeah, I know. She told me once, he mused, and then realized that perhaps Deb wasn't the best person to be talking about at the moment if he wanted to keep Dexter from killing him. He squeezed his wrist and then let go, leaned back a little on the couch and let his eyes cut briefly across the room. Kind of like old times, isn't it? he murmured, finally looking back at Dexter. If we could just reassemble mom we could have a nice little reunion by candlelight. His tone was light, ire, and he had to shake his head to get rid of the mental image of his mother, lifeless and stitched up like Sally on the love seat. Food. He didn't have any food. He wasn't sure why he always wanted to feed Dexter, but the impulse was there. Something about wanting to make sure that he ate right between vivisections. There's some beer in the kitchen, he ventured finally, and idly the hand that was on Dexter's wrist pulled back to rub at his side where the knee had collided, and without segue he finished, And what's it going to take to keep you from killing me? I'm willing to change, Dex. I'm trying.