Fic: and all the walls fall down (Deb and Dexter Morgan, PG)
Title: and all the walls fall down
Summary: The thing Dexter didn't get was that her mistakes followed her everywhere.
Character: Deb and Dexter Morgan
Word count: 500
Rating: PG
AN: For sazzlette, originally posted here. Prompt: Taste the Floor - The Jesus and Mary Chain.
“We’ve got some fucking taste,” Deb told her brother, reaching over and snagging one of his fries.
“Apparently I do, you’re taking all my food,” Dex said blandly, not even bothering to give her hand a half-hearted swat.
“Don’t be a douchebag, you know I meant, you know, romantically,” Deb said, propping one leg up on the bench and leaning over. “I mean, you do okay with Rita, but you really scraped the bottom of the barrel with that crazy Lila bitch--”
“Don’t we have anything else to talk about?” Dex said, rolling his eyes dramatically and picking up his drink. “Like work or the energy crisis?”
Dexter just didn’t get it.
“Yeah, shit, whatever,” Deb said. “Let’s talk about fucking genocide, that’ll cheer this conversation right the hell up.”
*
The thing Dexter didn’t get - well, there were a lot of fucking things Dexter didn’t get, starting with normal human interaction and ending with why his sister was so goddamn tired of being a pariah - was that her mistakes were following her everywhere. She got recognized in fucking bars for being the Ice Truck Killer’s fucking fiancé, and at work...
At work everyone knew she was a fuckup and they didn’t bother to pretend otherwise.
*
“It isn’t easy, you know,” she tried again that evening, rooting around in Dexter’s fridge for a beer. “It’s not the fucking same for you assholes.”
“Which assholes?” Dex asked, sounding bored. Deb hated it when Dexter sounded completely uninterested in everything, like he was some sort of shittily-programed robot instead of her big brother.
“You assholes! Men!” Deb said. “Maybe I should give up on you all. Turn into a frigid bitch instead of a stupid whore.”
“It’s not all that bad,” Dexter said, but he didn’t sound like he believed himself.
“Dexter, it is that bad. I fucked a serial killer. I fucking fell in love with someone who wanted to chop me into bits. I’ve screwed up every relationship before and after that.” Deb sat heavily down on a stool. “God, I’m glad Mom isn’t around to see me now.”
“We all make mistakes,” Dexter said. “I’m sure... I think Mom would like who you are. You’re Debra Morgan, and you’re a hardass cop and you don’t let things like this tear you down.”
Sometimes Deb was really fucking lucky that Dex was her brother.
“I just... I don’t want things to be shitty anymore,” she said, feeling like she was twelve years old again, pissed off and upset and incapable of doing anything about it.
Dex stood, came over and awkwardly patted her on the shoulder.
“You’re a moron,” she told him.
She stood and gave him a hug, relaxing only when he wrapped his arms around her and muttered, “This will pass. Just give it time.”
“Cheeseball,” she told him, but his stupid-ass Hallmark consolation actually made her feel like things would, eventually, be okay.
Summary: The thing Dexter didn't get was that her mistakes followed her everywhere.
Character: Deb and Dexter Morgan
Word count: 500
Rating: PG
AN: For sazzlette, originally posted here. Prompt: Taste the Floor - The Jesus and Mary Chain.
“We’ve got some fucking taste,” Deb told her brother, reaching over and snagging one of his fries.
“Apparently I do, you’re taking all my food,” Dex said blandly, not even bothering to give her hand a half-hearted swat.
“Don’t be a douchebag, you know I meant, you know, romantically,” Deb said, propping one leg up on the bench and leaning over. “I mean, you do okay with Rita, but you really scraped the bottom of the barrel with that crazy Lila bitch--”
“Don’t we have anything else to talk about?” Dex said, rolling his eyes dramatically and picking up his drink. “Like work or the energy crisis?”
Dexter just didn’t get it.
“Yeah, shit, whatever,” Deb said. “Let’s talk about fucking genocide, that’ll cheer this conversation right the hell up.”
*
The thing Dexter didn’t get - well, there were a lot of fucking things Dexter didn’t get, starting with normal human interaction and ending with why his sister was so goddamn tired of being a pariah - was that her mistakes were following her everywhere. She got recognized in fucking bars for being the Ice Truck Killer’s fucking fiancé, and at work...
At work everyone knew she was a fuckup and they didn’t bother to pretend otherwise.
*
“It isn’t easy, you know,” she tried again that evening, rooting around in Dexter’s fridge for a beer. “It’s not the fucking same for you assholes.”
“Which assholes?” Dex asked, sounding bored. Deb hated it when Dexter sounded completely uninterested in everything, like he was some sort of shittily-programed robot instead of her big brother.
“You assholes! Men!” Deb said. “Maybe I should give up on you all. Turn into a frigid bitch instead of a stupid whore.”
“It’s not all that bad,” Dexter said, but he didn’t sound like he believed himself.
“Dexter, it is that bad. I fucked a serial killer. I fucking fell in love with someone who wanted to chop me into bits. I’ve screwed up every relationship before and after that.” Deb sat heavily down on a stool. “God, I’m glad Mom isn’t around to see me now.”
“We all make mistakes,” Dexter said. “I’m sure... I think Mom would like who you are. You’re Debra Morgan, and you’re a hardass cop and you don’t let things like this tear you down.”
Sometimes Deb was really fucking lucky that Dex was her brother.
“I just... I don’t want things to be shitty anymore,” she said, feeling like she was twelve years old again, pissed off and upset and incapable of doing anything about it.
Dex stood, came over and awkwardly patted her on the shoulder.
“You’re a moron,” she told him.
She stood and gave him a hug, relaxing only when he wrapped his arms around her and muttered, “This will pass. Just give it time.”
“Cheeseball,” she told him, but his stupid-ass Hallmark consolation actually made her feel like things would, eventually, be okay.