A/N: It was brought up that the whole story of Dexter could have just been the imagination of the lonely lumberjack. Perhaps it really was... after all, rule #1 of writing is go with what you know.

The look said it all. It's finally over. He's dead, after all of these years. The man who made his boring life bearable had just blackened the last page of the word processor the night before. Life felt so... empty now. Dexter was his whole reason for being for so long. What now?

"Hey, Harry! You wanna go for a brewski?" He recognized the yelling voice from outside instantly. Vince. He knew he should just go, or at least call out and acknowledge his friend's existence. And yet he just sat there, staring off into space. Then the knock on the door.

"Hey, Harry Moser! I know you're in there! Come oooon!" With the percussion upon the door, Harry snapped out of his daze and opened the door. He would go to the pub after all. Maybe some alcohol would help him forget that the life he loved to live was no more. So they walked, for it was not far to anywhere in this tiny Alaskan town. It's not huge like he imagined Miami to be.

With a beer in hand, Vince started the conversation. "Did you hear what happened at the wharf today? That bitch Maria was hassling Angel again. Said he wasn't working fast enough and that he was a good-for-nothing piece of shit or something. Oh, you should've seen the look in Angel's eyes as she walked away from him. I thought he was gonna kill her! I think the only reason he didn't was because he knew that Old Man Thomas would've fired his ass if Angel bumped off his old lady. Although God knows how Old Man Thomas can stand being married to that bitch. And then..."

Harry knew well the trouble with Maria. She married the old man for his money, and then she started prancing around like she owned the place. Which sadly in a few years, she probably will. Hell, he had been the recipient of her tirades once or twice in the past as well. He worked his ass off for the company, but as they say, no good deed goes unpunished.

What Vince had said made him ponder on that. If Dexter were real, I bet he could find a way to get rid of this Maria, just like he had managed to get rid of the Maria in the story. Yeah, this Maria was a tick on the butt of humanity, but she had never killed anybody. That he knew of, at least. Harry sighed with the thought, finished his beer, and ordered a new one.

The next day, Harry had heard that Angel had quit. Something about needing to keep a boot out of somebody's orifice. Bummer, Harry thought. He had always liked Angel, and wished him well. However, the good feelings weren't to last as he saw Maria's darkened shadow coming toward his truck.

"Hey, you! I need you to run a double shift for me for the time being. And don't give me any lip about it, understand?"

"Yes, ma'am. However, my vacation time is coming up next week, and I plan on leaving town for a while."

"Bullshit! I never authorized any time off! Request denied. Get back to work!" And with that, she stormed off.

The bile began to rise in Harry's throat. Denied? I'll show you denied. Yet he never made a step toward her to follow his thought projection. He had been raised by a strict military man, and the chain of command was absolute. His upbringing wouldn't allow him to go against her, no matter how much he may want to. Which was why he had come up with the character of Dexter to begin with. He was the freedom that Harry never had. He had wondrous adventures and gripping suspense in his life. Not like Harry and his dull life. Oh sure, for a while he had Debra in his life for a while. But despite all of his tears and pleading, she had dumped his ass and ran off with his good-for-nothing brother.

He still loved Deb, though. Even after all of these years later, he still hoped that she would find the happiness that he could only find in the story. And yet in the end, he killed Deb off in the story. Killed Dexter off as well. Why did he do that? Was there really nothing more left to write? Well... no. Dexter was a killer. Killers don't get happy endings. When Dexter finally got his happy ending, he eclipsed Harry. That wasn't going to happen. Harry found it fitting that Dexter rode off into the jaws of one of the most famous killers on the planet.

But now there was regret. Should Harry rewrite the ending? Surely Dexter wouldn't mind if he came out of this alive? But he knew the answer in his heart. No. The ending is done, and there are no take-backs. Just like in real life. Harry was still saddened that his favorite person in the whole world was no more. What now? Harry was going to go on vacation. Maybe to Miami? But now, with Maria's demands... rage built up inside Harry as he thought about the ending of his fantasy life, and the continuation of his mundane life.

"Fuck her."

"That's the spirit." Harry had no idea where the voice had come from.

A week later, Harry was on the connecting flight to Seattle. He had decided that he would go to Miami after all. He just had to re-live Dexter, even if it was only through being in the city Harry had only known for the first three years of his life. Military-family life was funny like that. Ten hours later, he set foot into the sweltering heat.

He had long ago looked up all of the places that Dexter had been known to frequent. The internet is a great tool to research details like that to inject the most accuracy into one's writing. He visited each one, and basked in his nostalgia of tales he had written of the great Bay Harbor Butcher. It was during his long stakeout in front of the Miami Metro Police Station that he dozed off.

*TAP TAP* "Sir, are you alright?"

Harry quickly awoke to an officer standing by his closed window. He quickly rolled down his window and spoke "Is there a problem, Officer?" Then he did a double take. Is that... Quinn? This officer is just how he had imagined Detective Quinn to look in the story! But no, the Officer's name badge said 'Harrington'.

"Well, usually people aren't passed out in their cars in front of a police station without a good reason."

"I'm sorry, officer. I am visiting here from Alaska, and jetlag must have gotten to me or something, because I felt really tired. I know there is crime in the city, so when I got tired, I saw the police station here and figured this would be the safest spot to stop and rest. I'm terribly sorry if I am in the way! I will move right away!"

Apparently Officer Harrington bought the story and the sheepish grin, because he said "Well, alright then. You had better move along. Just don't do that again, okay? Mysterious occupied cars parked in front of a police station tend to make us a bit nervous, ya know?"

"Will do, Officer. Thank you!" Harry said as he flashed his trademark winning smile. He quickly thought that the smile was one feature Harry could always do better than Dexter, but then quickly put it out of his mind.

Well, what now? Harry had visited everywhere he had wanted to visit, but yet he still felt empty inside. Miami just wasn't the same place as in his story. Then he had another though. Not EVERYWHERE. There was still... Argentina. He had enough money saved up after years of lumbering to easily afford the trip. Heck, he even had the foresight to bring the passport he used now that the feds required all trips into Canada to need a passport. The airport was his next stop.

After an even longer second fight, Harry caught a cab to head into the city. What he would do there, he wasn't sure. Harry instructed the cabbie to just drive around, or at least that's what he thought he was saying utilizing his long-dormant high-school Spanish lessons. The cabbie caught the drift, though, and it gave Harry time to think of his next move. The resulting ride provided his solution out the left window.

"Stop here! Er, pare aqui, por favor!" The cabbie chuckled a bit, and stopped the cab. Harry immediately jumped out with a huge grin on his face. The street's name was Calle Florida. That has to be a sign! Look, there's even a cafe down the street! Harry decided that would be his destination.

He sat down and marveled at how dense and exciting this place really was. He had originally just picked this location seemingly at random because it was on the other side of the world from him. Now he knew his instincts were right. He ordered and just soaked in the ambiance. So much different from Alaska! Then his heart stopped dead.

On the other side of the street was a beautiful blonde woman toting along her 5-year-old son. Her wavy hair blowing angelically in the breeze as the two of them ate ice-cream while walking down the street. It's her! It's really her! Oh, God, there is no way! The story isn't real, but there she is! There they are! Harry set some money down on the table without even counting how much he left, and followed after her entranced.

He knew this wasn't real. It can't be real. He just made it all up as an escapist fantasy, right? He would just go up to the lady, introduce himself, find out that she wasn't the woman he fell for in the story, and then that would be that. Back to the boring life he used to know. But somehow he knew that he couldn't go back. Not ever. His destiny was here and now. There was no stopping this time. Dexter always held Harry's emotions in check, but Dexter is dead now, isn't he? The story is over.

Before he could reach her, the two of them turned and darted up a flight of stairs to apartments on the upper floor of the building. He could see which door she went into. He could just run up there and do it now, but there were so many people around. Surely someone would see him? So he decided to wait until nighttime. Besides, he had no premise. He needed to bring her flowers or something.

*KNOCK KNOCK* The door swung open to the extent of the safety chain. "Yes?" Oh her voice was angelic!

Before he could think, he blurted out "Hi, Hannah! It's me, Dexter! Or are you Claire now?"

"What? I'm sorry, I think you have the wrong apartment."

"Wait! I'm sorry, my name is really Harry Moser, and I'm from Miami, like you!"

"I don't know what you are talking about. I think you should go now." The last word squeezed through the waning crack in the door.

"Wait!" But there was no answer. Harry stood there dejected in the hallway, with the bouquet of flowers slowly fumbling through his fingers towards the floor. All for nothing. It was all just nothing, wasn't it? Everything in his life was just made up. A story to relieve someones dreary existence. Was everything else a lie? Who was he really? Harry didn't even know the answer anymore.

Then a voice spoke up "You know I'm real, don't you? You were in my head for so many years, and now I get to be inside yours!"

"D-Dexter?"

"Well, I'm not the Easter bunny."

This was just too much. "What do you want from me?"

"Me? I don't want anything. It is you who wants. After all, aren't I just a part of you that you have always been afraid of? You wrote about me. I didn't write about you. In fact, you may even say that I AM you."

Harry thought about this for what seemed like an eternity. "Well then, Dexter. What do we do now?"

"I think you already know the answer. It's time to make life more interesting again!"

With that, Harry kicked in the apartment door and rushed the unsuspecting woman.

*RING! RING! RING!* Hello, this is Harry Moser, I'm not in right now. If you'd like, please leave a message at the beep. *BEEP!*

"Hey Harry, this is Vince. Holy shit, you are not going to believe this! Maria's body just washed up on the shore this morning! She's dead! When she disappeared a week ago, we had hoped maybe she just left, or a house fell on her head or something. But no! Well, everybody is in better spirits now. Hell, when you come back from vacation, I'll even buy you a beer to celebrate. See you when you get back!" *BEEP!*