#thcbloodguy

Billy finished off the beer in his hand. " I don't think I'm in the mood to talk. Why don't we do something?" He suggested. He was antsy. It was coming up on the anniversary of his mom leaving and still if he thought about it, it affected him because it was what started everything. He pushed up off his recliner to go toss his beer. " Why don't we go out. I need..." He paused, unsure what he really needed. He couldn't kill anyone and relax that way and he didn't want to get black out and put it on Dexter to help take care of him. " Maybe some food. I don't fucking know." He sounded frustrated but it was all aimed at himself. He took a deep breath and grabbed his pack of cigarettes. " You're into the bowling thing right? What if we do that? Not that I have any idea how to do that but maybe doing something different will be a good distraction."

HIS MOUTH IS DRY, in that sort of way that makes him wonder if he can answer straight away. This, right here, had never been something he thought would happen. The possibility had been foreign to him for as long as he could remember - the concept of a father being something he merely knew he had, not that he really remembered. And now here he was, the man who he had vague memories of, but not anything concrete. "I don't know what to say," he admits, voice slow as a faint crease forms between his eyebrows. "I never expected to see you again." Had thought he was dead for most of his life. "You know?"

“You left us.” She hates how her voice cracks, revealing all the pain beneath the anger. She blinks rapidly and glances away, trying to stop the tears that want to overflow from her stinging eyes. “I don’t forgive you.”

Even as she says it, she’s not entirely sure it’s true. She wants it to be. It should be simple: he is a serial killer, and she is a cop. But if it were that simple, she would have arrested him already. He’s still her brother, and even if she wants to hate him, she’s not sure she can. But she can be fucking pissed.