It’s been two days of walking for Brian. At this rate, half of the police stations in Florida are after him. All because Dexter didn’t want to kill Deb so the two could work together. He was tired, and he was bound to collapse at any moment, with the knife gash in his side.

He found a decent looking neighborhood, walking up to a house with minimum lighting on. He walked around and eventually found a way to get in.

He slowly made his way into your home through the window, placing himself in your bedroom. He saw you, clenching the bloody knife in his hand. He slowly approached you, standing over you, knife glistening in the dark room. He couldn’t decide whether he was going to kill you, or have you help his wounds. He didn’t have any medical experience, after all. But he wasn’t even sure you would help him at all.