Dexter wasn't sure what he had been dosed with, but it wasn't etorphine. It hadn't rendered him unconscious for long. When he came to, it sounded like Fullman was struggling to drag Prentiss away from him. Perfect. That gave him the time he needed with his scalpel.

The headache from earlier had amassed to full power. She registered that she was seated on the floor with her back resting on the wall of the container. Her hands were firmly secured in her lap. She looked down and flexed against the zip tie. She surveyed the room. Fullman was pacing beside the table that she had been on. There was a man there now, secured in the same way that she had been. Fullman hadn't noticed her. She scanned the workbench. The butt of a gun was hanging just slightly over the edge. It was Dave's 1911.

When Fullman turned away from her, she acted. She lunged toward the weapon, and he spun around clearly hearing the noise from her movements. She was dizzy and having trouble breathing just from the small act. He charged toward her as she leveled the gun.

Her chest and the back of her head had taken the brunt of the damage, but her shoulders were protesting from being shoved into the metal wall as well. She pushed him back with everything she had and separated from the wall enough to let out a kick, awkward though it was with her bound hands. She eyed the weapon under the workbench. She pushed him to the other end of the container, passed the man on the table, and stayed on the attack.

She grabbed Fullman by the shirt before he could catch his breath and pulled him down to meet her knee. He stumbled back again, but then regained his footing and charged forward with his shoulder to her gut and his hands wrapped around the backs of her knees. She was overpowered. She was slammed into the unforgiving metal floor and gasped. She vaguely registered his weight disappearing as she rolled to her side desperate for air. Then she felt him kick at her legs as if she were in his way. She didn't expect the blows to her back, and then the side of her arm as she rolled in an attempt to block him.

The blows ceased, and she found herself once again struggling to improve her position. She crawled toward the last place she had seen the gun. Pushing herself to keep moving even though it was difficult. She grabbed the gun and tried to brace herself against the leg of the work bench. Dexter Morgan, she had recognized, was fighting with Fullman now. She was in no condition to make a precision shot, her eyes seemed to be failing to lock in on the two men at all; they were wildly out of focus.

He was winning the fight handedly. He had Fullman pinned against the doors and he was landing consecutive successful blows to the other man's torso. His only struggle was trying to figure out how to kill Fullman in front of Prentiss. Just then, Fullman dropped to a knee and his upper half went to the ground. Dexter relaxed slightly.

He had to do this, there was no way around it. Fullman knew enough to destroy him. His thoughts were cut short when the baton that Fullman had been beating Prentiss with made a sudden reemergence. It connected with Dexter's gut. 'Should have seen that coming.' Fullman took advantage of Dexter's new, weak position. He brought the baton back down across the right side of Dexter's head and he fell backward with the force of the blow. Fullman was getting to his feet, so Dexter rolled to his stomach in an attempt to do the same.

He looked up to see if Prentiss was watching. He was alarmed to find her aiming a gun at him. After what felt like a long moment, he realized that she was pointing the weapon at Fullman. He pushed himself up and scrambled toward her. He grabbed for the gun and took it from her with little effort. He twisted around, his right elbow hitting the floor hard on the other side of her body, and he fired off four shots.

Fullman fell to the floor, and Dexter stayed frozen in place. He was breathing heavily. He had just made a kill in front of someone. He didn't have a way to dispose of the body. He didn't have a plan. 'Is this what a panic attack feels like?'

Prentiss pressed a hand to his back and softly pushed. They didn't exchange words. He got to his feet and handed her the gun. He studied Fullman's body closely. 'Dead.' He pushed the lever and opened the door that Fullman wasn't lying in front of.

He went back and squatted next to Prentiss. He gingerly put an arm around her torso and used his left hand to pull her arm around his neck. He easily stood them up and walked to the back of the truck. He sat her down on the edge and hopped out, and then turned around and offered her the same support. They were almost to the cab when he heard the sirens. It only seemed like seconds before they were surrounded.

Agent Morgan was the first to them. "Where's Fullman?" he barked.

Dexter lazily pointed his thumb to the back of the truck. "Very dead," he said nonchalantly. He smiled. 'They're going to clean up after me this time.'

"Dex!" Deb came running up to him. "Jesus Fuck, are you okay!" She holstered her weapon and grabbed his head. She probed the cat that had formed over his right eye.

"I'm fine," he stressed as the other agents made their way to them with Angel close behind. He was relieved to see paramedics rushing toward them as well.

"Em," Agent Jareau seemed to be just as worried about Prentiss as his sister was about him.

"I'm good," Prentiss supplied. "Here," she thrusted the handgun in Agent Rossi's direction. "You dropped this." Dexter smiled widely.

Emily watched Dexter intently. She had managed to escape the hospital far more easily than she had anticipated. She had a few broken ribs and a slew of bruises. The ketamine, she was told, would wear off with time. They had compared it to a bad hangover.

Angel came up and clapped Dexter on the back, clearly proud of the technician's heroics. His sister was hovering and practically batted Angel away.

"Hey, Kiddo." Dave settled beside her. She only nodded. "I need to apologize."

"It's not your fault," she argued.

"I found out that I have a son." Her features softened at the news. "Mother's someone that I didn't know very well." She looked at him. He was sad. He had been dealing with the pain of missing out on his only son's entire life. "At least I know that he exists now," he shrugged.

Emily pulled Dave into a hug and caught Derek observing them from the briefing room. She pulled back and nodded in that direction. "We should probably get in there."

LaGuerta was in strong form. She clearly wanted to commit all of the details to memory before delivering a press conference to announce that the killer had been caught. Emily's attention went to the door as the Morgan siblings joined them.

"Dexter," LaGuerta addressed him. "Look, I know that you were injured, but I need you to give your statement."

He smiled. "I just finished up with Sergeant Batista."

"How did you end up out there?" Derek asked.

Dexter continued to smile. She found something off about him. "I uh, well," he pursed his lips and shook his head. "I was checking out Fullman's house for any clues as to where he may have taken Agent Prentiss. Next thing I know, I wake up strapped to a table."

"What?" Emily couldn't contain herself. "That doesn't make any sense." She saw the way the team looked at him. They agreed, even if they didn't say it. "Why would he risk returning to an active crime scene to abduct a crime scene technician?"

He shook his head again. "You got me. You guys are the profilers." He looked down for a moment and placed his hands in his pockets. "He must have had a reason."

"I'm sure we'll find it," Hotch interjected. "We're shipping his laptop back to our tech for analysis. There wasn't any physical evidence in his home, so he must have researched his victims online."

"Good," Dexter nodded. 'You won't find anything.' He had covertly destroyed the evidence upon his return to the station. That laptop was as dead as its owner.

"At the very least, we should be able to determine who the man was that he was stalking," Emily said.

Dexter looked at her quizzically. "He was stalking someone? His next victim?"

"We don't know," Derek said. "Emily said he kept talking about some guy like he was obsessed with him."

The debriefing had come and gone, but Emily didn't feel like they had really answered any questions. The team had said their goodbyes to Debra and Angel. She actually really enjoyed working with them. It was Dexter who was off-putting. She didn't believe his story, but there was no evidence in either direction.

Dexter just about ran into Prentiss. "Hey," he nodded his greeting. "I'm glad that I caught you." She looked less than impressed. "I um, well," his head bounced from side to side. 'I'm supposed to be nervous for this, right?' He handed her a business card. "I wanted to give you my number." She flipped it around in her hand and had to spot his personal cell phone number and email address on the back. "I know you're not my biggest fan, but I wanted you to have it just in case." He attempted a charming smile.

She narrowed her eyes at him in reply, and then followed her team out.

She definitely did not like him. The question was how much of his conversation with Fullman had she heard? He stared after her for a little longer than he probably should have.

"Maybe next time, Dex." Batista was trying to give him hope. Dexter nodded. He knew that, if there were a next time, the BAU would be there for him.

A/N: I apologize again for the delay. I had the idea about Dave having a kid back when I started this fic, before the whole Joy thing happened, so I just went ahead and kept that part the way that I had initially thought it up. Kind of cool. I hope everyone enjoyed!