(Untitled)

[born_in_blood]

Who: Dexter Morgan, Brian Moser; open to T'Pol and Spike, otherwise closed unless you'd like to propose something. <3
Where: Dexter's room - level 5, cabin 16.
When: Right now!
Warnings: Serial killer mumbo jumbo, creepy brotherly love, creepy creepiness.

Comments

[acrotomophile]

Unfortunately for Dexter, Brian had a fairly good idea exactly what he was doing. The gift hadn't been given on idle whim; he'd manipulated his brother and his brother's foster sister successfully for a year, and once he'd regained his balance on the Barge it wasn't too difficult to return to doing that.

Not that he wanted to keep manipulating Dexter; Dexter deserved better. He just wanted to be able to talk to him. To be understood.

He couldn't whistle in the hallways with all the chaos, but there was a distinct jaunt in his step as he made his way down a single flight of stairs and over to room 16. Because of course he'd located where his brother was immediately after arriving - he had his priorities.

Brian rapped on the door with the back of his hand and carefully prepared himself to be honest. Or at least as honest as he could be.

[born_in_blood]

Dexter stood up and made his way mechanically toward the door when Brian knocked. He only unlocked the door, and didn't open it. He was going to establish his position in this conversation as quickly as possible, before Brian could beat him to it. Dexter took a seat at his desk, facing the door. His room in Rita's house hadn't come with him to the Barge, nor had the room in his apartment. No, Dexter's lab in Miami Metro had followed him to the Barge, because that was, apparently, the only home he had left.

[acrotomophile]

Oblivious to Dexter's power play, Brian entered the room, saw him, and smiled. It was small and oddly soft; he hadn't seen Dexter at all since arriving, and he leaned back against the door for a second, just taking him in in his lab.

It was weird that his lab was what had come with him, but not so weird that Brian was surprised by it.

"You look different," was his comment. "It must've been a while since I died." It was just an observation, not bitter at all.

[born_in_blood]

Dexter wasn't really prepared for his reaction when he saw Brian. It was sentimental, something he rarely felt. Even when he looked at Brian and the pit in his stomach grew, he thought maybe he'd suddenly become sick. He didn't really know what the physical manifestation of this sad, melancholy feeling felt like until now. The closest he'd ever been was Harrison's birth, and even then, it was fleeting, and then gone as if it had never happened.

Dexter tapped a few fingers on his desk, keeping eye contact with Brian. He smiled, then, genuinely. "Three and a half years, almost. I'm getting old, I guess." He folded his arms and leaned back in his chair, still staring at Brian.

[acrotomophile]

"I thought it had to be something like that," he said, coming in further and propping himself comfortably against the counter opposite Dex. Ordinarily he might consider hopping up on it, but he didn't want to set a juvenile tone for this conversation. "That means you're older than me now."

He could read his brother's smile and answered it in turn; it made him look shockingly normal with maybe a twinge of mournfulness about the corners of his mouth. For his part, that sense of nauseating loss had followed him all his life, until eventually he'd figured out how to mitigate it by killing hookers and draining their blood and carefully slicing their bodies into evenly portioned pieces.

[born_in_blood]

Dexter's eyes seemed to twitch down to the ground when Brian mentioned Dexter was older. He kept the same smile on his face, but his eyes remained downcast. His rubbed the back of his neck with his hand.

"Yeah... yeah, I guess so." He let out a small laugh at that, to express a nervous emotion that he didn't actually feel. He didn't care, in all honesty, how old they were. They were the same unchanging monsters as the world moved around them. The only two statues in this little lab where only Brian and Dexter had ever existed.

"How was your arrival here?" Dexter didn't dare tack on an addendum to the question. His arrival had been painless, but then, he wasn't chopped into pieces by his brother.

I'm just going to pretend this was never late :<

[acrotomophile]

"It was fine. A little achey, but I didn't make a big deal out of it," he said, the implication being that he didn't want to now, either. This topic would only start them fighting again, and he had one he cared about much more.

Brian leaned forward intently and looked strangely soft in his earnestness. "Tell me about my nephew. How old is he? What's he look like? You don't have a picture, do you?"

If he had a picture he'd even forgive him for the name. Not that Dexter needed to know that right away.

I'll pretend with ya :D

[born_in_blood]

Pivoting just slightly in the chair, arms folded, he stared at Brian silently for several moments before standing up and making his way to a drawer next to his brother. He eased it open and rummaged through the contents before pulling out a black leather wallet, handing it silently to Brian and moving across the way from him.

The first flap of the wallet, of course, contained a picture of Harrison. Opposite that was a picture of his and Rita's wedding party. Both were crisp; nearly new.

"He's coming up on a year. Looks a lot like..." He paused, "...well, me, I guess. What do you think?"

thanks XD

[acrotomophile]

He held them silently in his hands, staring at one and then the other. Regret welled up in his throat, regret for his mistakes and for a lot of other things. And burning jealousy that Deb had been there instead of him, her face like an insult, but it was quieter now - because he knew that they were both dead and they'd never be able to go back.

Death changed a lot of things, as it turned out.

He exhaled finally and looked up, a little unsure what to do with his hands. He wasn't surprised at all that Dexter had married Rita. He'd always liked what he'd known of her; she was a lot stronger than their mother had ever been. "They're amazing," he said honestly. "Wish I could've been there."

Then Brian realized how that could be taken, and he shook his head, closing the wallet but still holding onto it. "I don't blame you, you know. For what you did."

[born_in_blood]

The issue of Brian's death seemed to be a recurring knot in Dexter's stomach, causing him unprecedented levels of anxiety he had never in his entire life felt. Dealing with them was easy enough; masking any emotion he'd ever had was the cause of his seemingly even temperament despite what was bubbling under the surface.

Dexter only managed one, quiet, "Yeah", for several beats, until Brian addressed the elephant in the room. Dexter's arms folded across his chest had been turning white from how hard he was hugging them to his torso. His voice was even again, flat, "No?" He took a breath to steel himself, "Do you think you'd have done it differently after everything ran its course?"

we're so timely, I love us

[acrotomophile]

Brian laughed a little, ironically. He tossed the wallet onto Dexter's work counter with a carelessness he didn't feel, and leaned back into his seat. For all of his deliberate nonchalance and his amused tone, there was a tightness around his eyes, a lurking sadness.

"Of course I would've, Dex. You think I wanted that to happen? Jealousy just got the better of me, I guess. I'd been thinking about it for so long, planning it for so long... I was so caught up that I forgot about reality. That you might not necessarily see things my way."

His gaze flicked up to the ceiling and stayed there. Even talking to his brother about his feelings was difficult; Brian had spent so long not letting them influence him, it was strange and arduous to bring them into the open. And he was still scared that his brother would dismiss him, though rationally he knew he was causing Dexter too much turmoil for it to be that easy for him.