Miami, Florida

When Dexter woke the next morning, it took a moment to realize just where he was. Part of the reason for his initial confusion was the fact he was woken by a loud knocking on the front door of an apartment he was quite certain he'd never been in before; and yet here he was, passed out on the sofa in the living room, sheets on the cushions and a blanket covering him. It reminded him briefly of the way Rita treated guests the odd time they had people sleeping over when she was alive.

Then he remembered. He was in Miami, at Astor's apartment. She took him home from the Police station after Dr. Reid tried to interview him. Whether the FBI boy genius believed him or not was almost irrelevant; there was absolutely no proof that Dexter had done any wrong in this or any case- barring the impersonation of a police officer. Once Astor had gotten him home, she let him take a shower and set out some fresh clothes that she said were Cody's. It was strange to Dexter that these clothes were actually a little too big for him; he couldn't help but remember Cody being tiny.

Then again, Astor did say he was working out a lot, and their biological father Paul Bennett was a rather large guy, so it makes sense Cody would have grown...

The knocking persisted. Whoever it was at the door was not going to give up and go away, it seemed. Finally Dexter groaned and pulled himself off the sofa. He stood, and stretched a kink out of his back and neck.

The knocking became a pounding.

"Okay! I'm coming!" Dexter shouted at the door. Gradually he made his way to the door to see a note taped to it in Astor's handwriting:
"I had to go into the office. Uncle Joey caught Elway. Elway shot and killed Scott, injured one of the Feds really bad, and broke Uncle Joey's nose, but he caught him. Joey beat the shit out of him and now he's in the hospital – emergency ward, I think. Remember what I said last night. Love, Astor."

Dexter tore the note off the door and opened it. There he saw a man in a brown and yellow uniform standing in front of him. In one hand, he was holding a small package with and an envelope taped to it. He had a clipboard in the other hand. On the patio floor at his feet was a vase with a single flower in it; the flower was Monkshood – also known as Wolfsbane, also known as Aconite.

The Dark Passenger stirred ever so slightly; though Dexter wasn't sure why.

"I got a package for John Dough here?" The man said in that ever so annoying way that sounded more like a question than a statement. Dexter let it go this time; presuming the man was asking if he was John Dough.

"That's me." Dexter replied.

The man handed him the package, stooped down and picked up the vase to hand it to him as well. Dexter took both items, and when the man handed him the clipboard he examined it briefly before signing it; apparently the sender was a woman named Daphne Chaplin. Again the Dark Passenger stirred; this time Dexter thought he understood why. He didn't know anyone by that name. This could be some kind of set up. Maybe Dr. Spencer Reid orchestrated something that was supposed to set Dexter up in order to implicate him in something. For a second, Dexter considered rejecting the package, but then thought better of it; it was best to act normal and sign for it as if nothing was wrong. He signed the document and took his copy and sent the man away, shutting and locking the door behind him.

He set the vase onto the coffee table in front of the sofa with the package, and tore the envelope off to open it. Inside was a colorful card that announced "WE MISS YOU". He opened the card and a photograph fell out. Examining the photo, Dexter recognized the pair on it immediately; a deeply tanned woman with red hair (dyed), and a boy, they were sitting near a swimming pool with an open-air cafe that had a thatch roof in the background. Besides being tanned from getting a lot of sunlight and looking a little older (the boy in particular had grown immensely), the pair were unmistakable. It was Hannah and Harrison.

Deep in the darkest parts of his mind – a place that Dexter had nearly forgotten was even there- the Dark Passenger came to full wakefulness. The image on the photograph was no trick; it was real. That meant only one thing; that Hannah and Harrison were alive and safe, and that Hannah, at least was aware of the situation and trying to communicate that to him. Almost frantic with anticipation, he flipped open the card. It was blank except for a hand written message from Hannah:

"Dexter:
I'm not sure where to begin. First, I guess I should let you know that I've known you're alive for awhile now; Astor found me in Argentina and informed me. Please forgive her. She thought I should know, and she did her best to explain why you did things the way you did. I still think you handled it all wrong, but you did you did what you thought you had to do to protect us. Harrison and I are in Acapulco now; I've been home schooling him. He doesn't know you're alive, but he's never really believed you were dead.
Anyway, once it was confirmed that you were back in Florida, Astor contacted me again. I've been following the Copycat killings in the news; it's obviously not you. You've never been that careless. My guess is that you'll be staying with Astor for now, so I sent this along with a small package. I don't know who's doing this to you, but whoever it is it should be you who resolves the matter. Astor is right about that. She's also right that whether it's on your table or in the electric chair, dead is dead. The item in the package should help you do what you have to do to make things right.
When you're done, get Astor to help you come and see us. I'll make sure Harrison understands everything. All my love, Hannah."

The Dark Passenger grumbled its wordless approval of the message. It was definitely Hannah's writing. This was a legitimate message. As for Dexter, he couldn't remember feeling so... alive. He took the wrapping off the package and opened the small box. Inside he found what he sort of expected; knowing Hannah and her methods as he did. It was a syringe, the tip with the protector still on it. How she managed to get it across the border was a mystery, but he wasn't about to question it. He had an idea of what was in the syringe, too; the monkshood in the vase was a clue.

The Dark Passenger laughed inside him. This wasn't exactly his favorite means, but it would certainly be sufficient. In a sense of the word, it was actually very fitting; this way, he and Hannah would be putting an end to the threat Jacob Elway together. He would do it personally, and because of the Aconite she provided, Hannah would be making it possible.

"I love you, too, Hannah." Dexter said aloud. Then, as he started to prepare himself a good breakfast, he began to work out a plan to get to Jacob Elway in the hospital.

No sooner than she had calmed Garcia down and sent Rossi, JJ, and Alvez out to get set to head home, Joey came striding casually into her room; his nose all busted up and sporting the telltale twin shiners of such an injury. With the grin on his face, he had a certain devil-may-care look that SSA Emily Prentiss found rather appealing. She didn't even bother trying to tell herself it was the pain medication telling her that. As her team was leaving, Reid asked for a couple of days to stay in Miami. JJ playfully punched his arm and joked that he was hoping to make time with that cute intern at the Station. Alvez added to the joke that she was obviously interested. Prentiss allowed him a couple of days. She was going to be stuck here, anyway, so they could head back together once the doctors deemed her fit for travel.

"How're you holding up?" Joey asked her.

"I've lived through worse," Prentiss replied. "What happened to you?"

Joey laughed lightly. "You should see the loser." He shot back. "Really, you should. He's one floor down from here."

"I'll take your word for it." Emily said. "So Alvez said you were the one who collared the UNSUB. Good work."

"Thanks for your help." Quinn replied. "So I guess you'll be hanging out here for a few days."

"Looks that way" she confirmed.

"Yeah," Joey nodded. "So how about this: Once the docs say you can get out of this dump we try again for that dinner at Papa's on the beach? It really is the best place in town."

Emily grinned. She had to appreciate his persistence. "You're on." She said.

At the Miami Metro Station, Captain Angelo Juan-Marco Batista and Lieutenant Angela Lewis were in the office of Deputy Chief Matthews, going over the last of the reports on the evidence found at the cabin Jacob Elway was using as headquarters for his Copycat killings. Most of the team of Feds were for all intents and purposes heading back to Quantico, but their Unit Chief was laid up in the hospital, and it looked like the skinny doctor – Reid, his name was – was sticking around until she was fit to travel. As a result, Reid was in the room, too. Angel made a point to remember that; the doc was sniffing awful close around things that concerned Dexter. Matthews was already in on what he and Joey were doing, and he was sharp enough to guard his words careful about that, and Lewis had no idea. The only question Angel had was what was Reid looking for, anyway? Unfortunately, there was no real way to ask that without revealing that he knew Dex was alive all along.

"You're sure that the DNA evidence found on the hammer and the machete will match up to our victims?" Matthews asked. "I want to there to be no mistakes if we charge Elway with the Copycat Butcher killings."

"Vince has already confirmed the tool marks from both matches perfectly with the wounds on the victims." Angel replied. "Also, he got careless with his last victim, Arlene Shram aka Heidi Marsh. Fingerprint analysis confirms he was the one using the weapons. The trace DNA found on them will just be icing on the cake. We got him, boss."

Matthews nodded, apparently satisfied. "At any rate, we have that son of a bitch for killing an officer, assaulting an officer, and the attempted murder of a Federal Agent." He said. "He'll definitely go down for that, and when the Copycat killings stop after that, we can close this case once and for all." He closed the file and set it down on his desk. Standing up, he shook all of their hands in turn. "Good work, all of you." He said. "I suggest we wait until all our ducks are in a row before we go to press conference; we don't want another embarrassment related to the Bay Harbor Butcher." He looked at Reid. "I want to thank you and your team personally," he said. "I hope your chief has a speedy recovery."

"Thank you and you're welcome." Reid replied, reluctantly taking Matthew's hand to shake it. Remarkably, Angel noted, Matthews didn't seem at all offended by the Fed's reluctance. It was pretty clear that it wasn't personal; Reid had been avoiding physical contact with anyone the whole time he was there. With that, Dr. Reid left the room.

"What I don't get is why did he copy Doakes?" Lewis inquired. "There have been a number of high profile serial cases here, many of them more recent. He could have used any one of them, some of which would have more sense if he was trying to lure McKay out of hiding."

"Probably because the Butcher was the most controversial" Angel replied simply. "Even in the media, there are still a few speculations that we got the wrong guy, and the real Butcher is out there somewhere; that he just got smarter."

"Yeah," Lewis concurred, "that's probably it." She left the room, leaving Matthews and Angel alone.

Angel closed the door to the office behind her and turned to Matthews, who had returned to his seat. "So that leaves Dexter." He said. "Now that he's broken his own cover, what do we do with him?"

Matthews waved it off. "I know the Morgan's well." He said. "After all we've done to help him; he won't throw any of us under the bus. As for any charges that may come his way for impersonating an officer or whatever, I have plenty of stroke with the courthouse. I can get any court date for him delayed indefinitely. Eventually his case will be all but forgotten; especially since so far it is entirely internal."

"So Dexter can pretty much disappear again, and it'll be like he was never even here." Angel nodded. Satisfied that all was well on that front, the Captain left the Deputy Chief.

Jacob Elway drifted back and forth into and out consciousness; he was able to discern he was in the Emergency Ward, but couldn't quite recall what happened to him. The last thing he clearly remembered was making a break for it back at the cabin. Obviously, he didn't make it. He tried to open his eyes; one was swollen shut, and the meds they had him on were strong enough to sap his strength to the point where it took too much energy to open the other.

"So what's this guy's story, anyway?" He heard what he guessed was a male nurse asking.

"He shot a cop and a Fed." A female voice answered. "Then he tried to brawl another cop in order to escape. I guess that cop took exception to that."

"It certainly seems that way." The male voice agreed. There was something about his voice that made Elway sure he'd heard it before; he couldn't focus enough to place it, though.

"I also heard the cops think he might be the Copycat Butcher." The Female voice whispered.

"You don't say."

"Yeah," she confirmed. "Some of the other nurses speculate this might be the real deal and that the guy they said did the originals was a patsy. I think that's BS. I think the real Butcher is still out there and the cops are protecting him; using him as a kind of boogeyman."

"Well, that's an interesting theory." Elway heard the male voice say before drifting back out.

He came back to the waking world in immense pain; he had no idea how long he had been out, but apparently long enough for his meds to wear off. He managed to open his one good eye and turn his head to one side. The first thing he saw was a photograph of a pretty, well tanned red head and a blond haired boy in front of a thatch roofed restaurant. Through the fog of his pain, he eventually recognized the woman in the picture; it was Hannah McKay. The boy had to be Harrison Morgan. Panic set in and he tried to reach for the call button, but discovered his hands were cuffed to the sides of the bed.

"Oh, good," the male voice said. "You're awake."

Now Jacob was able to place that voice. Slowly he turned his head to face forward and saw a man in nurse scrubs and a surgical mask standing over him. The man covered his mouth with one hand and pulled down the mask with other. Elway was right. The voice belonged to Dexter Morgan.

"They say that imitation is the finest form of flattery." Dexter said. "The problem is that I never thought of flattery as particularly complimentary. It's dishonest, you see." He carefully turned Elway's head to look at the picture again. "I didn't have time to collect decent pictures of your victims, not that they matter much anyway. Most of them were far from innocent. But I want you to see the lives you've been trying to ruin." He leaned in close to Elway's ear and hissed "that's my son you're fucking with."

He carefully removed the IV from its port in Elway's right arm and produced the syringe that Hannah had sent him from the table he placed in on while setting up the room. Deep in his mind, he could feel the Dark Passenger dancing with glee. While this wasn't his preferred means to an end, it was certainly enough to satisfy a need that had been denied for far too long. Dexter imagined it was like when an alcoholic goes for years without a drink and then gets a sip of really cheap wine; it's not what he really wanted, but the effect is immeasurably satisfying anyway.

Keeping one hand on Elway's mouth, he removed the stopper from the syringe with his teeth. As part of his preparation, he rigged the monitors to read as normal while he performed his make do ritual.

"I'm sure you realize that this isn't my typical style," he explained, waving the syringe in the air, "but you are a special case. This is as much for Hannah and my son as it is for me." He then stuck the syringe loaded with Aconite into the port, trusting that Hannah would have dosed it so that he would have time to be long gone by the time it took its effect of causing a cardiac arrest. Ideally, the heart attack would be written off as result of strain from his current injuries, and since he had just killed to officers of the law no further investigation would take place. Dexter had examined the injury report before beginning, and noted that Quinn had damaged Elway's larynx in his beat down. He probably couldn't shout anyway, so he slowly removed his hand from Elway's mouth. No sooner than his hand was clear, Elway made an attempt to shout for help, but only a hoarse whisper came out of his mouth. Dexter then replaced the IV, turned and left.

It was almost perfect. He would have rather stayed to watch the Aconite take effect, but there wasn't time. He put the surgical mask back on and made his way for the nearest exit. He would just have to wait and see in order to confirm that Jacob Elway had died as a result of his injuries. He didn't need to worry about Quinn; all inquiries would end with him in the clear. Elway was resisting arrest, and all Quinn would have to say is that he was absolutely certain that his own personal life was in danger. Once he sure his work with Elway was done, he would get Astor to establish contact with Hannah and Harrison in Mexico. Maybe then he could put the Dark Passenger to rest permanently; if that was what he really wanted...

Deep inside, he could feel the Dark Passenger grinning. Wordlessly, it thanked him for letting it come out play.

You can't change what you are, son. Harry told him. Just stick to the Code and you'll be fine.

I get it now, bro, Deb chimed in. Some of these fuckers are just getting what they deserve. So I say fuck yeah; do what you've gotta do.