(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.