Here is the third and final chapter! I hope you enjoy it, and thank you so much for reading it

~Anzi

"I vote we break his arms and legs."

"We have no proof. We can't just barge in and-"

"Proof? Proof? You want proof? Are those nightmares not proof enough for you?" Anton was livid; almost spitting mad. "He screams. I can hear him screaming for help, begging for the pain to stop. If that's not proof, I don't know what is. I don't need anymore proof after those nightmares. I vote we break his arms and legs."

Ghastly sighed, twisting his hands in his lap and frowning. "I know, I know... But say we're wrong? What if we do something rash, and we've read the situation entirely wrong?"

"We are not wrong." Anton said firmly, his eyes gleaming brightly in the firelight. "Saracen, you have been remarkably quiet. You usually jump at the chance to talk about Dexter. What do you think?"

Saracen, who had been sitting at the edge of the group, sighed and glanced up. All the expectant eyes were on him. "What do you want me to say?"

"Are we right about Dexter's father?"

A pause. "I promised him I wouldn't tell you."

"That's it." Anton had stood up so fast he blurred. "Forget witches, we are going to hunt that son of a bitch down right now."

"Sit down, Anton." Skulduggery's voice floated from the other side of the fireside. His eyeless sockets were staring deeply into the flames as he thought. "If we are going to find Dexter's father, we need to plan what it is we're going to do to him."

"Break his arms and legs."

"Yes, noted. It just doesn't seem.. painful enough."

"We can cause more pain once his bones have been broken. After all, with no limbs he can never hurt anyone again."

Saracen nodded approvingly. "I think we should take all his clothes and burn them, too. And maybe roll him around in cow shit."

"Yes.. That sounds good." Erskine was nodding now, tapping his chin. "We can piss on him too."

"Maybe we should leave the excrements for another day." Skulduggery murmured, although a grin was audible in his voice.

"No, no, I like the excrements." Ghastly laughed, clapping his hands. "Although before we break his bones, I want to have a go with him."

"Get in line, tailor-boy." Saracen said, reclining back casually. "I'm first."

They spent another hour laughing gleefully and planning, until finally Saracen stood with a yawn and pointed back to his tent. "I'm going to check on Dexter."

The others nodded, but didn't break from the planning. Stretching as he walked, Saracen ducked into the tent, expecting to find Dexter wiggling around in his terror-filled dreams again.

Instead, the blond man was sitting upright, and his blue eyes shot to stare at Saracen as he entered the tent. "Would you really?"

The smaller man paused, staring back. "Would I really what?"

"Break his arms and legs."

"Shit. You heard that?" Sighing, Saracen sat across from him and frowned. "You weren't meant to.." he cut himself off as Dexter stared expectantly at him. "Yeah, we would. He hurt you, Dexter, and he can't do that. I understand if you don't want us to, but he deserves it and-"

His sentence was cut short as Dexter threw himself at him and almost crushed him in a hug. "Thank you." The blond man whispered breathlessly.

"Um.. No problem." Saracen shifted slightly, rubbing Dexter's back comfortingly. "We'd do anything for you, you know that. I'd do anything for you."

Dexter pulled back slightly from the hug, but didn't let go. There was silence as they stared at each other, laughs and snatches of conversation carried on the wind from the other Dead Men. Their noses were touching. "Saracen?"

"Yeah?" The dark haired man whispered back, his voice husky.

"I think I want to stay with the Dead Men. I want to stay permanently."

"I want you to stay permanently too."

"Then I will." Dexter whispered, and then they were kissing.

It was slow and gentle and sweet, and Dexter had never experienced anything like it before. Saracen reached up and cupped the other man's cheek. He stroked down Dexter's back with the other hand, allowing the slightly taller man to lean into him further.

After about a minute they broke apart. Dexter's bright blue eyes were wide, and he stared at Saracen for a long time. "Can you sleep beside me tonight? In case of nightmares?"

"I'll sleep beside you whenever you want, Vex." Saracen grinned, shuffling over and laying down in Dexter's sleeping spot. He opened his arms in an invitation and raised a brow.

Grinning in return, Dexter lay down next to him and rested his head on the shorter man's chest. "Imagine the rumours if the villagers could see us now. Dexter Vex and Saracen Rue; what a scandal!"

Saracen burst out laughing, and kissed the silky blond hair in front of him. "Screw them."

"I'd rather screw you."

This time Saracen choked slightly. He recovered quickly, however, looking down at sly look on Dexter's face. "I'm going to have to take you up on that offer. Not tonight, of course. Tonight, you need to rest."

Rolling his eyes, Dexter pulled Saracen in for another kiss, before laying down again. "Fine. Good night."

"Night, Dexter."

...

Saracen paced around the campsite as Erskine lit the fire. The shorter man kept glancing around expectantly, waiting for someone to come through the trees. Finally, he turned to Erskine and growled in frustration. "Where are they?!"

"They'll be back soon, unknot your knickers."

Saracen snarled at his friend, before sitting heavily on one of the logs. "They'll be reckless, I know they will."

"They're just gone to one of the nearby villages to get some food. They're not gone out of the country. Don't get into such a tizzy." Erskine shook his head, clearly trying not to laugh.

"Why are they taking so long?"

"You know them, they probably stopped to chat up some pretty ladies."

"That doesn't sound like them. That sounds like you."

Erskine paused, then snorted and nodded. "Yeah. What can I say, the ladies love me." He ignored Saracen's rather insulting muttered comment. "I'm telling you though, they'll have stopped to flirt with some women. I think I heard Ghastly planning to introduce Dexter to some girls."

The shorter man had gone very still. "Why would he do that?"

"Give him some experience, I suppose? Dexter deserves a break, you know that more than anyone."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Erskine raised a brow at the defensive tone. "I mean that you 'know things'. So surely you would know how much he needs a break."

"Oh."

It looked as though Erskine was about to say more, but at that moment the sounds of the others returning reached them. "We'll talk later." He said, just as Ghastly and Skulduggery broke through the trees. Dexter and Anton came behind them, chatting amicably. Watching them walk over and sit around the fire, Erskine raised his eyebrows. "Where's Hopeless?"

"He met a lady. Decided to stay the night with her." Ghastly grinned, setting down the basket of food he was carrying.

Saracen ignored the extremely pointed look Erskine was sending him. "So what took you so long?"

"Other than Hopeless chatting up every woman he saw until one took pity on him and brought him home with her?" Skulduggery asked, sitting close to the fire. "Ghastly tried to insist on Dexter doing the same thing."

Saracen shot a barely-noticeable glare at Ghastly, who grinned unapologetically. "He didn't even have to flirt, they were lining up for him!" The tailor clapped Dexter on the back. "Don't blame them, to be honest."

The blond man shot Ghastly a strange look. "What?"

"Well, I mean.. I would definitely do you."

Dexter stared in blank shock.

Grinning, Ghastly shrugged. "I think everyone here would. Erskine?"

"Hm.." Ravel ran his golden eyes across Dexter's body, taking in every detail. After a moment of intense scrutiny, he nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I would."

"Anton?"

Shudder tilted his head, his sharp eyes thoughtful. He nodded. "Yes."

"Skulduggery would if he could, but let's not go there." Ghastly grinned as Skulduggery held up a skeletal middle finger. "I'd say Hopeless would if he were here too. Saracen?"

Instead of answering immediately, Saracen glanced at Dexter and winked. Dexter's blush was both adorable and hilarious. "Most definitely."

Blushing so furiously he was practically glowing, Dexter stood and cleared his throat. "I'm just gonna, um.. go over here."

The Dead Men watched as their newest member fled the embarrassing situation, before they all burst out laughing.

Shaking his head, Ghastly said "Hey Saracen, go tell him we were only messing. I mean, we meant it, but we're not actually going to bang him."

Still laughing, Saracen nodded and followed Dexter's path to their tent. "Dexter?" He called as he ducked inside.

The blond man looked up from the corner, where he was holding a box. "Oh. Hey."

"The others were only messing with you."

"Were you?"

"No." Saracen admitted, shrugging. "But you knew that."

Seeming almost satisfied, Dexter glanced down at the box in his hands. "I got you something when we were at the village."

Curiosity piqued, the shorter man shuffled further into the tent towards the other man. "You didn't have to do that, Dexter."

"Nah, I wanted to." Smiling almost shyly, he held the box out.

Taking the box, Saracen peered at it curiously and opened it up. Inside, were a pair of well-made leather boots. "Oh my- Jesus, Dexter. Where did you get these?" They looked extremely expensive.

"Shoe shop."

"But.. You have no money."

"Well, I mean.. I didn't exactly buy them."

"You stole shoes for me?"

Uncertain as to what reaction he was going to get, Dexter nodded nervously.

A bright smile crossed Saracen's face. So Dexter hadn't been flirting with other people while he had been in the village; he had been thinking of Saracen. "Thank you!" He leaned forwards and kissed the taller man heartily. He pulled back, grinning. "I came up with a nickname for you while you were away. I think it suits you."

"Yeah?"

"Sexter." Saracen nodded calmly.

The taller man paused and stared uncertainly. "Sorry?"

"Sexter. Sexter Sex. It's good, right?"

"I think it might be best if you don't call me that."

"Nonsense. I love it."

"Saracen-"

"Yes, Sexter?"

"You're impossible!" Dexter burst out laughing.

It was so good to see him smiling; it made Saracen smile too. "I know, I know. I'm incorrigible." He gave a dashing smile.

It was times like these Dexter was so grateful for joining the Dead Men. Because Saracen had been right; he had never been cared for and loved more. And he had never cared for and loved anyone else more than he did these men.

Sometimes he considered what his life might be like if Saracen had never sat across from him in that bar that night so many months ago. He preferred not to think about it. His thoughts always strayed back to the night the others had been flustered around the campfire as he listened in, plotting to maim the person that had ever dared to harm Dexter. They had never done it, at Dexter's request to simply let the past lie, but Saracen had told him that all he needed to do was say the word and his father would be permanently disposed of. It was his choice.

And that was something he had never even considered happening. He had a choice. He could easily tell his new friends to make the man that had hurt him suffer. He could ask them to kill him. They would do it, he knew they would.

But..

If there was one thing Dexter did not want, it was to be like his father. He refused to stoop that low. He was going to come to terms with everything in his own time, and he knew that causing his father the same amount of suffering he had caused him wouldn't ease any of the pain.

Saracen stood by him on all his choices, whether he agreed with them or not, and that gave Dexter such an enormous boost of confidence.

Because now not only did he know that the Dead Men were friends for life, and that they had his back and would never let anyone harm him, but he also knew he would do the same for them. He would lay down his life for those men if he was asked to.

And that was a pretty great thing for Dexter. Before, he had nothing, but now? Now he had the six greatest friends in the world.

War or no war, life could only get better.

~FIN~