"So beautiful…"

There's no resistance when he goes down, only his eyes, briefly fluttering before closing and he falls into my arms, body warm against my chest. He's confused right now, all the memories are rushing back to him and false loyalties are still tugging him away from me, but he'll come around. Soon it'll be over. He's been brainwashed, turned against him own kind, but I know what he is. I can set him free, and then we'll be unstoppable.

I run my fingers through his hair, fingers getting caught curly knots… His head tilts back slightly, his neck facing up at me, and I find my fingers on his pulse, while my other arm supports him, making sure he doesn't fall. I feel the need to know he's alive, to make sure he's okay, and safe. He doesn't deserve to be killed, or treated like a rag doll, this is my project, my life's work, to reclaim him and get him to see the truth. It's almost complete.

I haul him up, reaching one arm underneath his legs and scooping him up, carrying him like I did when we were children… the time he fell off the front deck and injured his knee… It's hard to believe it's been so long since I was last able to touch him like this, to reconnect with him, to talk to someone who understands. It's a pity he has a misguided devotion to the girl that clouds his judgment, but we can fix that. I can fix that.

I nuzzle his cheek with mine as I walk down the hallway, remembering a time before my Dark Passenger came to me, before the blood and the hospitals, to a time when I could feel love. I don't feel anymore, nothing more than perverse sexual pleasure and the homicidal urges that come to me. Yet when I found him, recognized, saw him for the first time, I could feel the blood in my veins begin to rush and my heart beat faster. I couldn't take my eyes off of him and I knew this must be what love and true devotion felt like.

To finally know what it's like to not be alone in the world, to have family beyond the sense of blood relation, deeper than that made me put up with dating that disgusting "sister" of his. It allowed me to kill the father that dared to separate us and enjoy my work all the more, knowing the messages I was sending were being received and understood.

I gently place him on the old wooden chair and brush some of his lightly shaded hair out of his face and tuck it behind his ear. He's so vulnerable right now, but soon he'll see… I pick the roll of tape off of the table as I balance him on the chair. Weak and tired, he flops around, almost like a fish.

"It pains me to have to do this to you" I explain as I wrap the tape around the top of his chest and arms. "I really just wanted us to sit and talk for a while. Your 'so-called sister is waiting patiently', so don't worry about her right now, we have a lot to catch up on." I pause, and tilt his chin up for a moment and look at the face I can seem to stop seeing everywhere, I press my forehead to his and inhale deeply.

I have him now, it was a struggle of epic proportions, but he's all mine, now. No fucking cop, no matter how much she wanted, could change that or take him away. With that reassuring thought, I release his chin and stand up. He'll wake up soon, so I have to be ready, I can't keep my guest waiting, not Dexter; that would just be rude.

I place the tape back on the table, and head to the kitchen. I retrieve two beers and set them on the table, one in front of him, and the other I open and take a sip of. I watch him carefully, wait for his eyelashes to flutter, for him to look at me with the admiration he had when we were children and smile. Soon my caged songbird will be free to roam with me, and life will be perfect, I will have my little brother back. He needs me, and I need him. I'll protect him from the world's disapproving eyes; after all, that's what big brother's do.

"Don't worry Dex, Biney's here to make it all better."