A/N: This one...gets really dark. I don't even know where half of this stuff came from. I think I started thinking too much on how to really tear down Dexter's character and then went from there. I mean wow! I kill a character in this part, I have torture scenes, I'm going to need to up the rating on this to T! Anyway here's the other half. I don't know where it came from (Wickfield's art certainly didn't inspire some of these scenes...though there are a couple of bits that her art definitely helped out on) but make of it what you will...my god my muse twisted this around!

Number 1
Part II
One Diabolical Coup

The lead up to the rise of the Executive was slow. So slow that no one realised that they'd been taken over until it was too late. Number 1 was still amazed at how he'd managed to do it so sneakily, it was a move worthy of her brother – and that really galled her to admit that that rotten pile of hate could be anything like Dexter.

Graduation had come and gone, and oddly enough it was only Beau who was going to College – UCM had accepted him right off the bat – whilst Dee Dee and Dexter went their own way in things. Not at all surprisingly, her genius brother had been employed by MegaCorp practically minutes after he got his diploma and was soon spewing out idea after idea for new gadgets and gizmos that would improve the lives of people the world over. Things weren't as cut and dry for her though, but then breaking into show business was never easy, something she'd known since her first proper performance in school. That wasn't to say she didn't make it, just that it took a little bit of time to get spotted. To fill in the gaps, and to pay the bills on her apartment, Dee Dee had chosen to do a bit of part time teaching around town as well as in her old elementary school. It had been a bit weird at first, seeing all those kids taking notes from her instead of the other way around, and more often than not she worried over whether she was teaching them the right things.

It pays though to have a sensitive boyfriend sharing your apartment, as well as an encouraging brother who'd known her all her life. Dexter made a point to come round at least once a week – though he played it off as getting something other than the company's cafeteria food, and Beau was a pretty good cook. It became a routine for them over the year to meet up and chat over their work, or lack of as the case may be, as well as sharing what was really grating them about their current occupation. For Beau it had been the pressure of meeting deadlines for his exams, becoming a doctor wasn't easy after all. As for Dexter, he had a problem that brought unified disgust to all three of them: Mandark had been employed by the company as well. Worse still, the slime had been given the same job as her brother. As if the creep would ever work on anything for anyone other than himself. On the plus side though, it seemed he wasn't exactly inspired by the job and so the hope was that he'd eventually get the sack. No such luck.

Then she had gotten her big break. Dee Dee had landed herself the main role in The Sleeping Beauty. Dexter and Beau had been there on her opening night, with front row seats, and she was pretty sure she caught her little brother sniffling a little bit close to the end. It would have been a completely perfect evening if someone had not shown up to try and get in on her good side. Mandark's time at the company hadn't done him any favours, his waist beginning to bulge outwards and his teeth, having rotten out due to one too many sugary products, had been replaced with filed down jagged points. She hadn't thought it was possible for him to look any less attractive, he looked like some hideous devil now – just no horns or pitchfork…yet. He'd cornered her in her dressing room, trying his old 'charming' ways with her, until she'd finally given him a full dose of Dexter's replacement for mace spray which sent him scurrying out screaming like the rotten thing that he was. Her boys had been right in afterwards, furious that he was even back here, though they both relaxed into comradely laughter when Dee Dee held up the spray can in her hand.

"Well," Dexter had said, puffing his chest proudly, "I guess it's ready for mass production now."

Sure enough the next week saw the appearance of MegaCorp's Hacksaw Spray. Guaranteed to repel jar headed morons who didn't understand the meaning of the word 'no.' A call from Dexter also added to the positive results, detailing how Mandark had to take the next four days off due to the boils and swelling that the chemicals in the new spray caused when coming into contact with skin. It wasn't permanent, but it most certainly marked out just who couldn't be trusted in the dark alleyways.

And for a while, it seemed like Mandark had finally gotten the message. He never showed up at another performance, didn't try to follow Dexter to her apartment, or send things through the post which he'd been wont to do before.

Then Beau went missing.

He'd always made a point of seeing her perform when he had the chance, and with his exams over for the semester he'd promised to see her in Swan Lake as soon as he could. When it was only Dexter who came backstage to congratulate her on her performance, she'd started to worry. And when trying to call him up to see where he was didn't work she'd turned to her brother to help.

If he had still been the same arrogant little boy who hid away in his lab when they were kids he would've likely written it off as being beneath his talents. However they'd both grown up, not to mention that Beau was his friend too, and he immediately promised to help look for him. He even went as far as to go back to their parents' and access the lab. And when the single most technologically advanced workstation on the planet failed to find him, that was when they both started to panic.

Looking back now, Number 1 realised that that had been exactly what the Executive had wanted – with her brother distracted, it gave Mandark the chance to slip into Dexter's workstation in MegaCorp and start stealing his ideas. Looking the other way as he had been, Dexter hadn't known what was going on until they eventually caved and went to the police for help. When they saw the kinds of computers that were being used to gather data, as well as the communication devices…the look on her brother's face as he recognised each and every one of his inventions and ideas…there sheer pale terror and anger was something that even now she could close her eyes and see.

Returning to MegaCorp had shown just how far it had gone. Mandark was now out of the designing department, and was now one of the junior partners in the company. Nevertheless that hadn't worried Dexter so much as what else it might have been that Mandark had stolen.

The Neurotomic Protocore was something that Dee Dee had come to attribute to Dexter as his truly greatest invention. He'd shown it to her and Beau when they'd still been in highschool.

"On its own it cannot do any good or harm to anyone." He'd told them, holding up the glowing green orb for them to see whilst they'd been relaxing in the lab. "But if it was hooked up to a teletronic neurotomic amplifier, the core could send out a harmonic frequency, synchronising the minds of every individual on the planet with each other. Everyone would know everything."

He'd laid it down all in his scientist mode, arms behind him, coming out every so often to fiddle with his glasses. And honestly, Dee Dee hadn't been sure what to make of the core. Uniting everyone's thoughts sounding nice in theory, but in practise it sounded almost like slavery. She'd said as much to her brother, to which he'd replied, now back in Dexter form again, "That is why I keep it close. The core is too dangerous to be left on its own."

"But" Beau interrupted, looking confused "if you weren't going to use it, why did you make it?"

However she figured it out first, "Because you could, right?" Just like when he told her why he built the Dexbot.

He'd nodded, looking incredibly grim as he carried on. "The idea would not leave me alone and so I created it…and if it ever fell into the hands of some incompetent fool who knows what could happen?"

If there was one thing that she'd learned from her brother about things that gave off rays of radiation or any sort of flowing energy, it was that they always had polarities. Dexter's core had to be the same. And so, if the polarity of the core was reversed, if it was hooked up to an amplifier…all knowledge would be sucked the other way. That very fear had to have been in his foremost mind when he realised what Mandark was doing. And so they had both let out a sigh of relief when Dexter found the core exactly where he'd left it, still glowing positive green. But that didn't really consolidate her seeing as Beau was still missing.

After that though it seemed like some of the old Dexter had suddenly returned, his visits became less and less, and whenever he did come over he was very reclusive and secretive about what he was doing at the company. He'd always just say that he was working on a way to get Mandark out of the partners division and leave it at that. For her though, it was the red light that warned danger regarding MegaCorp and she immediately stopped buying products from that franchise, keeping only the things that had gone ahead before Mandark started rising. It didn't help that her friends were still using the new technology from the company, Mee Mee and Lee Lee included, even her students in dance class had MegaCorp phones and MP3 players. And she couldn't help but feel like she was being stared at. She'd tried to call Dexter but his phone would always go to voice mail, which worried her even more. He'd gotten into the habit of keeping his phone on all the time in case someone called.

Then things went from bad to worse. Whatever Dexter had been trying to do had clearly failed, because Mandark had not only gotten a seat with the Senior Partners of MegaCorp but had also made a takeover bid. When that didn't fly, his advancement seemed to be at an end. Two weeks later, the chairman of MegaCorp, Stephen Co'Rere* was reported to have died of a relapse of his previously treated pancreatic cancer and Mandark, who conveniently seemed to have become the Chairman's favourite, was placed in temporary control of MegaCorp. From there it became a steady downhill slope as he began stretching out. And now the full scope of his machinations appeared. Over the past months, Mandark's stolen inventions had become part of virtually every economic tree, MegaCorp was in virtually every corner – from mobile phones to MRI scanners – and all that revenue went back to the new Executive Chairman, Mandark Astromonov. Suddenly administrations started shutting down, whole businesses went bankrupt or were bought by MegaCorp, until only that one single corporation remained as the sole source of technological production.

Seeking sanctuary, Dee Dee had tried visiting her parents, only to get the shock of her life to find that her mum and dad had moved out and into the growing city. Even the lab was now out of bounds.

Then the numbering began.

Mandark's influence had become state wide, possibly even further. What mattered was that now everyone was designated a number. Guess which one she got…

And just like that, the creep was snooping around her apartment, with roses and chocolates, and when that didn't work, money and diamonds. She didn't bother wondering how he knew where she lived, he was smart, not nearly on the same level as Dexter but smart nonetheless. Again and again she caught him following her, that sickening lustful look trailing after her. He even started showing up at her performances again (she quietly thanked her little brother for inventing artificial molecular reproduction – the Hacksaw Spray never ran out) daring to usurp the front row seats that had always been reserved for her boys. Nevertheless the first rule of show business rang in her ears and so she performed onwards, Romeo and Juliet getting the same rapturous applause it always got.

However, the new Executive had finally had enough. Now he attacked her area of work as well, broadcasting the shows on one of his new TV channels. Suddenly tickets weren't selling, audiences dwindled, and whatever revenue did come in went straight to MegaCorp. The result was the troupe splitting up, going their own ways. Mee Mee and Lee Lee, or Number 3 and Number 4, went off to work in one of the company's leisure salons, whilst others just seemed to vanish off the map. With no full time work, and out of work performers taking up the part time teaching jobs, Dee Dee found herself at an impasse.

And then the jar head came back again, offering her a nice lavish place to live. Right at the top of his tower. At first she resisted, but once he pointed out her situation she'd had little choice but to at least look it over. The less said about the ride to Mega-Tower, the better.

The apartment itself was huge, filled with every kind of luxury and refinement she could have ever asked for, with her own staff of maids, some she recognised as her old troupe, to clean up after her. She hated it from the very first glance. Everything about it was sterile and clean. Where was the mess after a day's work out? Where was the scent of a bit too much cleaning agent? Where was the life? If that had been all to the visit, she would've turned the Executive down right there. But he wasn't through yet.

The deal sealer was what he showed her next.

MegaCorp had been rumoured to have started working on new prosthetics, limbs that worked just as well as the ones that were lost, if not better. But rumours are often twisted and reworked versions of the truth. The Executive had actually begun work on cybernetic replacements of organs, thus making donars irrelevant. Of course, he'd explained on the way down, they'd needed a willing volunteer in order to test just how well they worked and they had found just the person to work with. And thus, he introduced Dee Dee, to her horror, to Experiment 251-U. There was virtually no part of the body that wasn't covered in red and black plating, save the left side of his face, and belt that fastened over his shoulders and around his waist, meeting at the front, connected to a big round circular monitor that had the corporation's trademark black M illuminated by a glowing red background. It was bad enough just looking at the cyborg, but then he had to open his eyes…and recognise her.

In that instant the deal had gone out of her head and she would have rushed to hug Beau, however a gloved hand had restrained her before she could reach him. In her worked up state she would have struck whoever it was who had stopped her, until she looked round and found herself looking into the sad eyes of her brother. Except he didn't look like her brother, Dexter had always been slim but there had always been a sense of an underlying strength. Now he looked practically malnourished.

The Executive then took delighted pleasure in explaining to her that Dexter was the foremost supervisor of the cybernetics project, after all who knew her boyfriend better than him? He also then warned her about the monitor around Beau's chest, get too close and the bomb installed would go off. The project couldn't afford disobedience. It would ruin the months of testing.

He left them alone then, saying she had an hour to decide what way she was going to go. That time was spent getting the full story as to what had been going on. Mandark had apparently abducted Beau prior to his advancement and hidden him away inside his own laboratory and had afterwards brought him to the company, lobotomised. Dexter then told her just how much had changed with the new Executive in charge. He had virtually every military in the world in his pockets, not to mention some of the higher up politicians. No one was challenging him because there was no one who didn't owe him something. With his connection to the lab cut off, and the bomb around Beau preventing him from resisting the Executive, he'd had little choice but to work on the project.

What was gradually becoming the worst day of her life became more so when Beau started just saying her name, the Executive had left enough of his mind at least for speech. It was, according to Dexter, the first words he'd spoken since he started this disgusting work. Beau had continuously said her name, then pointed at the monitor, his one good eye begging her with something. Her brother realised it first: he wanted them to activate the bomb. At first they both protested, but Beau's pleas had just gotten louder, his pointing more exaggerated. And then he'd shed a tear.

At last Dexter, the glare of the operating light reflecting off of his glasses and covering his eyes, spoke up. "Dee Dee, leave this place." Even his voice had been hollow, as he started moving around the operating table to which Beau was strapped to and started flipping switches that started making all the dials and switches go up to the top. "I built this abomination, therefore I can destroy it." At his declaration, she'd begged him not to, but again Beau's pleas won out and he'd grabbed her hand. He was smiling at her, a look of peace in his gaze as Dexter continued overloading the systems. And then, Dexter activated the bomb.

There was no explosion, it wasn't that kind of bomb. The destruction was done inside Beau, tearing what was left of his mind apart as the cybernetic replacements shut down. Dexter's earlier tweaking had made it so that Beau's nervous system went offline first. He died slowly, feeling nothing, smiling all the way.

That was how he was afterwards, still holding her hand, his eye blank.

That was when she cried, and held him close, her brother standing away from her, his gaze stilled blocked by the light. "This is not science…" He'd murmured to himself, silent and full of loathing, staring at his gloved hands as if they'd been running with blood. "This was…this was…" He'd been unable to finish the thought. Instead then, he just pulled off the purple gloves that had followed him through all his endeavours, ever since the building of the lab, and through them on the floor like so much rubbish.

He'd then all but ordered her to leave, but, stubborn as she was, she refused to just let him waste away at the Executive's whim, inventing things to destroy. "He'll be disappointed then." He'd growled angrily. "As of this moment, my inventing days are over."

That declaration had horrified her. She couldn't grasp the idea of her brother not doing something to fight back. That was what he did after all. He was Dexter, boy genius! He never gave up! She said as much to him, but he only scoffed and pointed at Beau. "And look at what my genius did to him! I created a monster, when it would have been kinder to just let him go! Look at him Delilah! Look at him!"

She could still see the tears in her mind's eye of that day, worse than when he got the Dear John. This was a complete breakdown. Dee Dee did he best though, picking up his gloves and offering them to him, but he just slapped them away. "No! Get rid of them! Burn them! I don't want to see those infernal things ever again!" He'd been inconsolable, to the point of hysterics as he ranted and raved, decrying himself and then just crying in general, cursing everyone from Mandark to himself to his parents for conceiving him in the first place.

It was the sight of her strong brother collapsing in on himself that had made up Dee Dee's mind as to what needed to be done. Picking up his gloves again, she'd hidden them away in her coat pocket and had left the room, there was nothing more that she could do for him as she was. But she'd lost Beau. She wasn't going to lose her brother.

The Executive was waiting for her of course, in his smart clothes and confident smirk. And so for the first time ever in their long game of cat and mouse, she gave him what he wanted. She agreed to live in the penthouse. However, in her heart and mind, she made a silent vow, one that would lead to so much pain for her Dexter. She promised to him there and then that she would be there for him, that she would protect him with all that she had. She was the big sister after all, it was about time she acted like it.

Unfortunately about the only protection that she seemed to manage was to clean his wounds after his 'disciplinary sessions' with the Executive. At first he held out against the torture, refusing to bow down, even when the punishments became publicised. He just spat at the Executive, called him 'Mandark' and dared to laugh at him. "I am not a number!" he'd shouted, "I am a man!"

And then the whipping would begin. Back then it had just been a normal solid one. But it still left angry gashes on his back.

Every punishment took its toll though. When Dexter continued to refuse to conform, the Executive brought him up because he wasn't working – true to his word, Dexter hadn't made any new blueprints since he euthanized Beau. Dee Dee came to dread the appearance of the vid-screen descending from her penthouse ceiling, every time it did usually preceded footage of her brother being tortured by that monster. At first she tried to block it out, covering her ears, closing her eyes, anything to keep the horrible footage from seeping into her brain. But every single time, his screams came through loud and clear.

Afterwards she'd immediately have him brought to her – there were some perks in living in the tower – and do her best to dress his wounds. Initially he refused her help, angry that she'd actually stayed in Mega Tower when he'd told her to get out. She'd just replied back, "Since when have I ever listened to you?" and gone back to wrapping his back up. Sadly, she got very good at dressing wounds over the months. They rarely said anything. What was there to say? She'd stayed and that was it. Over time he became less resistant to her tending to him and eventually it became their new routine.

Then the Executive himself came calling, still as rich as ever, to see how she liked the place. She'd lied, saying that it was very nice and that she couldn't ask for more (except maybe her brother back and for the pompous jerk to have himself operated on like Beau was). He however figured that there was still one thing left that she could possibly want, and with that he'd gone down on his knee and pulled out a ring box.

"Dee Dee, my one true love," he'd drawled, having obviously gone over this time and time again in front of a mirror or, heaven forbid, a set up mannequin made to look like her, "I have loved you from afar for all these years, though your brother and that foolish pretender dared to come between us. But now, now that they are both safely away from us forever, we may now both act on our feelings." And he'd smiled at her with all of those horrible pointy teeth, with his horrid buggy eyes, "Dee Dee, you may finally pledge yourself to be my wife."

The utter fury and hate that had blossomed inside her in that instant was beyond anything that she'd ever felt before. That disgusting, low riding, cowardly beast had ruined her career, stolen from her brother, kidnapped her boyfriend, had tortured them both by having her brother torture her boyfriend, and after that had set about torturing her brother in person. And now he had the gall to insult them both in her presence as well as her by thinking that she never felt anything for either of them!

Fortunately, she'd still kept something of hers from the days before the Executive. "There's only one thing I want from you." She'd told him icily, shaking the canister up a bit before holding it up in front of the psychopath "Compliments of my little brother." And then she'd unleashed Dexter's spray all over the Executive's face, blasting it continuously, even when he'd begged her to stop. Once more she proved herself the undoing of Dexter's inventions, she used the spray so much that it eventually ran out, by which point there were ugly pustules and boils all over his face and hands which had risen up to shield him from her onslaught. She'd then taken the ring box out of his hand and thrown it out of one of the many windows that made up the western wall of her penthouse.

She'd then stood over him, spray still in hand, and glared down at his simpering form. "Now you listen to me, Mandark." The scared flinch served to send a satisfied chill up her spine as she carried on frostily, "The only thing that I would ever accept from you would be you offering your job as executive chairman over to my brother, and then you coming clean over all the ideas you stole from him. And then, I'd only accept it if you also gave back every last cent that you stole back to the people who need it." He'd then started to get up but she just slapped him back down. "There is no way in hell that I would ever marry you, or feel anything for you except spite. You'd have to drain my mind to even have the slightest chance at being even associated with me."

Maybe she shouldn't have said that bit. One thing that her brother and the Executive shared was the way their eyes flitted about as they worked something out. The Executive's eyes were now doing just that, putting things together. At last then he got back to his feet, straightening out his expensive suit, and suddenly looking every bit the weasel that he was.

"As you wish." He'd said coldly, and then stepped out of her doorway, leaving her alone.

A couple of weeks went by before he demanded her presence in his office. Usually she would have just ignored the summons, but the message had come from a familiar face. Douglas Mordecai, or Number 17, had gotten a job as the Executive's messenger boy. Though he and Dexter weren't as close as when they were children, he'd still been horrified at the treatment of his one-time friend and therefore, knowing just how obsessed he was with Dee Dee, often tried his best to keep her as far away from his boss as possible. This time though he'd looked incredibly concerned when he'd come to her, telling her that it might be in both hers and Dexter's interests if this time she actually did show up in his office. He'd gotten his hands on a new toy, Number 17 didn't know what, but he'd been watching Dexter's cubicle for some time now which suggested that it couldn't be anything good.

Taking his warning to heart, she'd obeyed the summons and had gone to his office. His staff was made up of women, long flowing hair and all of them blondes with blue eyes. It sickened her to look at them all, even though it wasn't their fault, she could guess just what the Executive did with them during the evenings. The office itself wasn't even really an office but his own personal palace, with a garden, wild animals and a bath in the middle of it all, like something out of a Greek myth. He'd was being attended to by two more blondes when he caught sight of her. Immediately he'd become business like.

"Ah, Number 1." He'd greeted her, snide and condescending, letting his girls dress him as he stepped out of the tub. "I was expecting you."

She'd just folded her arms and looked away, "Just make this quick, Mandark." She'd snapped, "I didn't come here because I wanted to."

"No, I expect you didn't." He nodded, even as the girls slipped his jacket on for him and handed him his glasses, which he promptly slipped on. "You're most likely here out of obligation to your idiot brother. How convenient," he'd smiled maniacally, "because what we have to discuss concerns Number 12 greatly."

"His name is Dexter, moron." She replied bluntly. "And if you brought me up here just so you could insult him again, then I'm just wasting my time." And she'd turned to leave, only to find that the beautiful landscape dropping down, replaced by barren white floors and walls, the windows shutting up and all the room simply bathed in artificial light.

"I wouldn't go anywhere if I were you." He'd warned her. "We have a lot of things to discuss you and I. But first, I was wondering," and he pulled out a small black device which he chucked over to her "what do you think of this?"

Years of baton twirling came into use and she caught the small thin object easily. It didn't look like much, though it seemed to have some sort of exhaust port or something at one end and so she pointed that end away from her face. Then she'd found the activation switch and pressed it. Immediately a red jagged laser sprouted out forming a glowing red stringy looking beam that flopped over once it was fully formed. It only took her a moment to realise what it was.

"Do you like it?" In her horror, she missed the Executive sneaking up on her and peeking over her shoulder. "I'll hopefully be selling these by the hundreds to the militaries of the world very soon now. But I always like to keep the prototypes close by for…personal reasons."

That was all she needed to know before throwing the laser whip on the floor and backing away from him angrily. "If you think I'm going to let you hurt Dexter-!"

"Discipline is necessary Number 1." He'd cut in, picking the whip up and deactivating it. "And I am afraid your brother isn't exactly performing at his best. Remember those days? Back when he was the fabled boy genius?" The cruel grin that sprouted ever further derailed any sentiment he most certainly didn't feel, "All I'm doing is trying to make him better. It's all for the good of the company."

The company? The company?! She wanted nothing more than to slap him hard right there and then. But the threat of that whip stopped her. Undoubtedly that was exactly what he wanted her to do, and then he'd have just the opening he wanted to take out his anger on Dexter with his new weapon. And so she stopped, counted to ten in her head and backed away. The door behind her opened up and she wasted no time running from the office.

But his voice followed her over the speakers. "I do hope you'll be present for the testing of my newest invention Number 1." He called out to her. "After all, Number 12 isn't the only one who's failed to demonstrate a proper level of discipline."

That evening the screen descended, and Dee Dee once more resigned herself to watching the Executive torture her brother some more. What she hadn't expected though was to see someone else strapped up for a change. Instead, she was treated to the sight of the laser whip digging into the back of Number 17, for 'misconduct, and actions beyond his assigned position of authority.' In other words, the Executive was laying into him for trying to help Dee Dee. He barely lasted the first lash, let alone the second, or the third.

Afterwards, Number 17 made a note to always tell her exactly what the Executive had told him to tell her. No more, no less.

The original service was quick to resume though, and the next time the screen descended, Dee Dee held her brother's gloves close to her as she saw him strapped up. He'd gotten incredibly skinny, any and all his muscle practically wasted away, and his eyes had been filled with a silent terror.

And then the Executive asked him a question. "What is your designation?"

"D-d-d-d…" the stammer alone showed how much just the normal whipping had done to him. Dexter never stammered. "Dexter?" He finished at last.

"Wrong!" And then the laser lashed into his back, causing him to scream out in undisclosed agony. Dee Dee clutched his gloves tighter. "Now then," the Executive said calmly, mere seconds after the first crack, "let's try that again. What is your designation?"

"T-t-t-t-t…Dexter."

"Wrong!" The whip cracked backwards, then came forwards, marking him again and causing him to howl out again. "One more time." And here the Executive took off his glasses for a moment, pulling out a cloth and cleaning a small smudge away whilst asking, deliberately slowly. "What. Is. Your. Designation?"

"T-t-t-t-t-t-twelve?"

"That's better. Again?" And before he had a chance to reply, the whip had lashed forwards once more and ripped into his skin. "I don't hear an answer Number 12!" The Executive snapped at him, like an angry parent.

"Twelve!" He gasped out raggedly.

"Better. Again!" The whip was lashing forward.

"Twel-aggh!"

"Again!"

Crack!

"Twe-aggh!"

"AGAIN!"

CRACK!

"Tw-agggh!"

"AGAIN!"

CRACK!

"Agggh!"

On and on it went, the longest session by far. Lash after lash after lash. Dee Dee hadn't been sure when she'd started crying, probably from the very first lash, only becoming aware of her tears when she felt the gloves in her hands and found them soaked.

She hated this, more than anything else she just wanted to run and keep running, wanted to break something, smash something like she had always done before as a child. But those childish impulses had faded long ago, Koosey, Peepers and all of Koosland were now just memories to her of a time when her innocence trumped her brother's logic. There was nothing she could do but watch as her brother once more took a rough beating.

It was the sight of this, her brother finally giving in, that broke her own back. Years of seeing Dexter as the strong big little brother went out the window, and she was left with the broken, weak scrawny man that was Number 12.

When he was sent up to her, like he always was, Number 1 was waiting for him, the same treatment salve ready for him, which she rubbed onto his ruined back. It was impossible to count the number of lashes, she'd lost count after the ninth, they all criss-crossed over each other until it seemed that Number 12's entire back was just a red oozing mound. But she did her best, as she always did, hiding the gloves so he couldn't see them, and kept on applying the salve until there was no more left to apply. Throughout it all both had just sat silently together, each contemplating what they could possibly do now and each coming up with blank slates.

And so her tending to him finished and he was wheeled away, leaving Number 1 to wonder once more, when had their lives changed so very drastically…

She had, at some point, realised what it would take to snap her brother out of it. There was only one person in the world with the fire, the drive, and the ego, big enough to bring Number 12 back from his self-destructive trip. Unfortunately, there was only one of him and as far as she knew, he had never fixed the Clon-o-matic after she, along with Numbers 3 and 4, wrecked it.

All she had was his gloves, battered and worn and stained with past tears. The only thing left of a brilliant man who had forgotten his name. But that man was now dead.

Dexter, boy genius died today...and so too had Dee Dee.

All that remained was Number 12...and Number 1.

A/N: Okay...that was decidedly a lot darker than the first half. Like I said, I'm not even sure where half of that came from. I guess because I sort of already knew where this story was going to end it sort of allowed me to go all out...but my muse must have been watching something else because this does not sound like Dexter's Lab to me!
So, I've left it there on a cliffhanger. If you want to get an idea of where this story might have gone on later, I strongly advise that you go over to Deviantart and have a look at Wickfield's Ego Trip art. That's where I got most of the inspiration. She'll be able to tell you more of what she had in mind for Dee Dee. Please note this is an adaptation of her art first, not her story. Hers goes in a different direction to mine and includes an Action Dee Dee and an Old Dee Dee.
And this is out to Wickfield herself. Can I use the image of Number 1 plastering up Number 12 for this story's banner?
*Yes that's a Steve Jobs reference. Blame Wickfield, she gave me the idea.