We're Coming and We're Going

We’re Coming and We’re Going



Disclaimer: I do not claim to own any of the characters mentioned in the TV series. All other characters are my own.

Note: Crossover settings will be announced later on in the story. Plans to add in bits from a few book series but no major crossover.

Chapter 2, Murder at the Disco part II



It was late when I finally got back. Deb had left a few hours before hand after trying to explain the Egyptian woman’s outburst towards James Doakes. Needless to say LaGuerta wanted little to do with both my sister and Mehnit. The Nashoba’s had been sent home on the account of disrupting the peace. Though what few knew was their home was also my home.

Normally whenever I opened the door to my apartment Deb used the chain lock. The door swung open when I pushed. From then I knew something was wrong. After her brush with death she always made sure it was locked. Wise thing to do anyway. I know I do it, but it was odd. Everything appeared normal as I stepped through the door. Unscrewed bottle of orange juice on the counter, Deb’s dirty dishes, shoes, jacket lying on the counter, and most lights on, others off. The TV was going and I expected to see Deb fast asleep on the couch. Instead there was Tala Nashoba, passed out in shorts and an oversized t-shirt, her boots still on. An empty bottle of Jack Daniel’s lay empty by the couch. Great, a drunkard.

One counted for, but where were the other three? My apartment isn’t all that big and one would think they would all be there. I turned as the refrigerator door shut loudly. Two accounted for. Koyaanisqatsi, Mr. Ice the fridge raider. More accurately, raider of my refrigerator. He looked over to me and scowled, a carton of eggs in his hands.

“A little late for making breakfast?”

He smirked and that surprised me. “Never too late for making anything. Let’s just say I’m getting a head start on breakfast.” Koyaan, master cook of my kitchen. What happened to the bad attitude? The death glares and silent threats of “I’m going to rip out your organs and feed them to the fish”? Clearly he was only pretending to be more social. Something was up; I could easily tell too. It didn’t dawn on me until I heard a soft sob from my room. Murder in my own home? My bed?





“Just leave her be,” Koyaan said in a cold tone, turning to face Dexter as he moved to see who exactly was in his room. “She’s had it rough today. No thanks to you.”

Dexter stopped and looked the Hopi man, raising his hands slightly. “What happened?” His question earned a harsh sounding laugh from Koyaan.

“Were you not there under the boardwalk today? You saw what your friend did to her,” Nashoba continued and set down the carton of eggs. “No one strikes a woman, especially not my sister.”

“Well, she threatened him. It was kind of her own fault for being hit.”

“A threat does not earn a fat lip, especially when she was completely unarmed.” Koyaan walked towards Dexter, his muscles oddly relaxed though his voice was venomous. “No one hurts my family without paying for it. And from what I can tell, you’ll be paying for his actions. I would sleep with my eyes open if I were you-”







“Koyaan! That’s quite enough from you,” Mehnit said and stepped out of my bedroom with Deb close behind. Her face was streaked with tears and her lip was still swollen. Doakes hit her harder than I had expected, but knowing him he only knew that one setting. I understood now; my sister was offering comfort, a little bit of girl-to-girl talk.

What surprised me more was Koyaan immediately shut up and continued on with whatever he was going to cook. Just like a dog too, which is funny because dogs hate me. “Mehnit, my sister, you should try and get some sleep. Briar doesn’t deserve you, you’re too good for him.”

The mention of this Briar made the Egyptian burst into tears again. Debra wrapped her arms about Mehnit in a hug and ushered her back into my room and closed the door, leaving me with Mr. Ice once again. Perhaps she isn’t as strong as I originally assumed. Or it’s just a girl thing when a guy breaks up with them. I’ll never understand relationships, or women for that fact.

Whoever her boyfriend was, she really cared for him by the sounds of her sobbing explanations to my sister. At least she had Deb to speak to. In that instance, they both were the exact same. Wounded because of a man they loved and that man betrayed them in some way. I turned back to Koyaan who still hadn’t turned his gaze away from the spot on the wall. No wonder why the expression in his eyes never changed from the same, cold glare. He was blind but a damned skilled one. Being able to navigate his way through my kitchen while his mother was long since passed out and his sister weeping in Deb’s arms, that was talent.



I didn’t bother continuing to speak with Koyaan. Instead I sat down in a chair near the couch to watch some TV. It took me a moment to realize my eyes were wandering up her legs. Scarred, horribly scarred but everyone has scars. The one that caught my attention ran from her ankle to her knee and then her knee to her hip. Surgically done too. Something horribly must have happened in order for her to need such work but I didn’t really care. It sparked my curiosity though. I could feel the need to find out what happened but right as I reached forward I caught the distinct texture of screws under her dark flesh. Car accident I suspect. Do reservations even have cars? Maybe it was an equestrian accident instead.

My hand recoiled as she tossed and turned in her almost comatose slumber. My curiosity peaked as I caught a thin scar start from her right hip as her shirt bunched around her ribcage. Nashoba turned again and the same scar grew wider and reminded me of a long zigzag. It disappeared under her shirt but I estimated it started from her opposite shoulder.

Deciding it was the right thing to do, I moved to roll down her shirt. She murmured something in her sleep, someone’s name though I couldn’t make out whose. I leaned back, assuming she had fallen into a night terror. I’ll take it as a hint not to drink a full bottle of Jack Daniel’s before bedtime. The name she mumbled before came again in a frightful wisp of breath. I debated on waking her, thinking it would be unpleasant to be murdered in dreamland. I recoiled as she almost screamed, but I imagined she was screaming in whatever nightmare she was in.

For the briefest of moments I thought I heard the wonderful sound of a knife tearing through flesh and the rip of fabric. I looked over my shoulder, half expecting someone to be there. No one was which confused me. Had I just heard things?

Blood has a distinct scent to it. I glanced to Koyaan to see if he had cut himself. He was gone, the door in the process of closing. I was alone with blood and Ms. Sociopath in nightmare land.

All right, now things are starting to freak me out. No one else was in the room with me and I smelt blood. I put my hand on Nashoba’s shoulder, pulling back almost immediately as I felt hot, sticky blood. I leapt to my feet in alarm and for a brief moment I was taken to a place that I’d never been in. The room was dark except for a corner light. A man had turned to shout at Nashoba as she moved to his side. She was crying. I couldn’t catch their words, everything was rather hazy. He pulled a knife on her and buried it deep within her left shoulder and pulled down, slicing through her skin with a maddened grin to his face.

Something skipped and the room was aflame, Nashoba on her knees, a thick trail of blood growing behind her. Paling hands gripped the back of the man’s shirt, pleading with him. He half turned and kicked her off. I immediately caught the similarities in Mehnit. He was Egyptian and somehow tied to her.





“Please Remus! Listen to me please!” Tala cried desperately, staring wide-eyed to the man she loved. “You need to understand that it wasn’t truly me! You know I would never do such a thing! You know that, Remus! You know that!” She gripped his arms and kissed him hard on the mouth.

The Egyptian shoved her back and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “Not in this room, not ever again. You had your chance and you fucked it up just as you always do,” he sneered acidly and turned to go down the stairs. He stopped as the woman took hold of his clothing in a desperate attempt to make him pause.

“Please, Remus…just listen to me. You don’t know wha-”

“I bloody saw you fuck him on that bed minutes after I had died! I saw everything!” Remus shouted and spun around, unsheathing a dagger. “Stay away from me. I don’t want to hear any of your lies!”

Tala leg go of his clothing and looked to him with helpless eyes. She ignored the knife completely and drew him into a tight embrace. “I love you, please just hear what I’ve got to say and then decide what to do. I beg you.” She gasped in pain as Remus thrust the knife into her left shoulder and dragged it down, tearing her at her flesh, cutting tendons and scraping against bone.

“Do you honestly think I would want to talk after all that I’ve seen? I fucking hate you. You’re nothing but a common street whore,” he spat coldly and shoved her back to continue on his way. He sheathed the poisoned blade and slipped it back into his coat.

Nashoba pressed her hands to the large wound that ran from her left shoulder to her opposite hip, blood bubbling between her fingers and pooling around her feet. She dropped to her knees, crimson rivulets dripping down the corners of her mouth and down the front of her shirt. With a shaking bloodied hand she reached out once more to grasp his clothing. “Please…Remus! I love you, I always have,” she began, choking on her own blood as she coughed. “Forgive me…that I wasn’t stronger.”

The Egyptian shoved her back and continued down the stairs but he couldn’t ignore her words. He had loved her so much and he was so close to forgiving her for what she had done but didn’t. Her words of love weren’t strong enough to persuade him fully. He could never forgive her.





I understood the scar now, but it opened up another doorway full of unanswered questions. Whatever vision this was it began to go blurry and I felt the hot burn of smoke. The room was on fire and it engulfed me as well as Nashoba who had curled up on the floor in her blood. The candles she had in her home at the time, he knocked them down for them to catch fire. It worked too.

I was sent back to reality as the entire house blew up. The blood I had felt, had smelled was just part of a dream. Cold sweat ran down my face as I stared at her, her hand tightly clenched on my wrist. I had no idea how my hand had connected to her shoulder but it had.

“The fuck are you doing, Morgan? Get your hand off of me,” she snarled. I backed off and she let my wrist go. I understood. I understood her bitterness, her antisocial nature and the strong bond with Koyaan and Mehnit. She still loved him, and that love haunted her.

“You were having a night terror. I thought it best to stay by, just in case.” Lying always came easily to me, except when it came to Harry. Thankfully everyone bought them, except for Harry and Doakes. From the looks of it, Nashoba didn’t either. Damn it. “Are you alright?”

Nashoba held a strong, fierce gaze but she was the one who backed down first. She sat up, placing a hand over her heart and flinched. What she went through was just short of having her heart ripped out, literally. “Fine, just leave me alone.”

I wasn’t about to argue with her so I let it go and got up. Whatever I had gone through disturbed me. Not so much because of the content, but on what happened to me. Just by touching her, the nightmare passed between us and we shared it. It was just a dream, it was just a dream, and I’m only seeing things. The scar is just a coincidence. Though, that’s not going to stop me from looking into it. For now, it was time to sleep.





Morning came all too quickly. I could hear someone moving around in the kitchen. Something smelled good, really good. I opened my eyes to find Koyaan cooking something that I guessed was breakfast. My new drunkard friend was stepping out of the bathroom buttoning her shirt, hair wet and her boots still on her feet. Did she do anything without her boots on her feet? I was beginning to seriously doubt it considering she never took them off last night. Either that or she passed out before she could. It wouldn’t surprise me if that were the case. She was broken from the looks of it and one can’t blame her for resorting to drinking. Perhaps her wearing her boots came from the fact of the sudden…incident that we shared last night. I need to look further into that.

Her daughter however looked much improved. Mehnit hardly looked as if she had a breakdown last night but it was clear to see that whatever was troubling her was still on her mind. I’m proud of my sister being there for her. Deb was heartbroken over many guys and I was never a good shoulder to cry on. I guess she realized that and from what I know about Koyaan, he isn’t like that either. Whatever the case may be, the Egyptian appeared stable.



Koyaan…he had gone out last night before I had that weird dream about Nashoba. I hadn’t heard him come back in again even if I was in the chair near the door. I had locked it hadn’t I? After he left? I had thought so but it appears I was wrong. His disappearing act intrigued me more. Koyaan is more like me than I had originally thought. He’s hiding things just as I do and he’s so similar in many ways. It’s just what ways are similar to mine that keep me guessing. He’s secretive and won’t allow others to catch on. His character puzzles me but I do enjoy this challenge. I want to learn more about him, and his mother.



“Dexter, your phone’s ringing,” Mehnit said around a mouthful of what looked like cake. So that’s what smelled so good, but how did Koyaan find the time to bake a cake?

This question of time once again sent me spiraling into the abyss of Koyaanisqatsi questions. I wouldn’t have snapped out of it if it hadn’t been for Mehnit’s hand upon my shoulder.

“Dexter, your phone,” she said again, looking mildly concerned.

“Huh? Thanks,” I said and offered her a smile. Her face light up and whatever doubts about her tough night vanished as she radiated with happiness. I nearly laughed at knowing something as simple as a smile set her day on the right path.

That didn’t help the fact that my phone was ringing. Rita. I had forgotten all about meeting her last night. I think it’s fair to say I had my hands full.





“Hey you,” Dexter said as he answered the phone. His smile from earlier faded at Rita’s annoyed and clearly aggravated tone. “Rita, I’m sorry about last night. There have been a lot of things going on. No, not just with the Bay Harbor Butcher. There’s been an escapee from a Reservation.”

“A Reservation? Dexter, is everything alright?” Rita asked, concern washing out any irritation from before.

“Well, not for the guy,” he replied with a hint of a laugh. “The tribal police sent down a few of their officers and their lead forensic investigator. Deb welcomed them into my apartment with open arms so I have three people straight from the Hopi Res right in my living room.”

“That was incredibly nice of her.”

“Yeah…tell me about it,” said and gave Deb a sidelong glare of his appreciation. “According to Tala Nashoba-the lead forensic investigator, it’s confirmed that the body we found is work of their killer. “ Dexter paused for a moment before adding in a soft, near whispering voice, “Rita, these people are…odd.”



Dexter turned towards Deb and the others just in time to see his sister made a mocking face at him. He knew he’d never hear the end of her good deed but it didn’t bother him so much now. The Nashoba family had sparked his interest.

“Hey Debra?” Mehnit asked as she finished her breakfast consisting of Koyaan’s cake and a cup of coffee. “Thanks for being there for me last night. I’m sorry you had to put up with an infamous Nashoba rant. I promise today won’t be anything like it. I really appreciate what you did for me.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she replied and walked over towards Mehnit. “You needed it anyway. Men are fucking assholes anyway.”

Mehnit laughed and shook her head. “You have no idea.”

“Trust me, I think I do. I’ve had so many fucking boyfriends it’s starting to become laughable. They all turned out to be bastards.”

“Great load of confidence this is giving me. No cake for you,” Koyaan replied flatly and pulled away Deb’s slice of cake.





I was glad my sister was there to help her out. She needed it badly and I’m proud my sister was there to help. I never was the right person to be a shoulder to cry on and I think Deb understood that. Instead of letting me try to pathetically comfort the Egyptian Native, she stepped up. Harry would be proud of her, I think.

Because of her act of kindness, she earned a new sense of respect in the eyes of Tala Ohanzee Nashoba. It’s clear as day too. I wonder what people have to do now a day to gain her respect. If that dream of mine was somehow true about her, she’s gone through a lot of shit. Perhaps it’s easier for her to see eye to eye with another woman. It wouldn’t surprise me.

I seem to have bad luck when something has caught my interest. Deb’s phone rang and she answered it. Her face when pale and it was obvious it wasn’t good. She gave me one of those looks saying, ‘Move it’ to not only myself but also everyone else. That look was understood by all and by the time she hung up, we were all almost out the door. I felt my stomach drop as Nashoba pulled out her keys and headed towards her car. It was obvious from that point that we were car-pooling and Nashoba was the driver. I broke my oath to myself. I allowed her to drive, but we got to the crime scene in less than ten minutes. Tala Ohanzee Nashoba, new record holder for arriving at any destination in Miami in under a half an hour. My congratulations go to her; the crime scene was almost at the other end of Miami.



Regardless of Nashoba’s amazing and yet horrifying driving skills, the scene before us was…atrocious. There hardly was a body left behind the nightclub. The head was perfectly mounted on a pike through the half eaten chest cavity. Masuka was already they’re inspecting this perfect masterpiece of torn flesh, skew entrails and crunched bones.

Debra turned away and coughed, covering her mouth. The Nashoba family looked on with amusement, not bothered with the mutilated body. A look of satisfaction marked each of their faces, including Mehnit. But she didn’t appear even reasonably close to the satisfaction upon Koyaan and Tala’s faces.

“This is a fucking twisted fantasy,” I heard Debra say as she walked away to talk with LaGuerta and Angel. I had to agree.

“That’s not the only twisted fantasy here,” Masuka replied and raised his eyebrows. “Whoa, talk about the freak show.” My guess was he was commenting on the Nashoba family. I suppose they were a bit of a freak show.

“A bit weird I know,” I agreed and knelt down hear Masuka. I let out a breath and pulled on a pair of rubber gloves. “It appears like the killer knew what he was doing. The incisions here could have come from sharp knives--”

“Or claws…” Masuka remarked and held up an animal’s claw.

I looked at the claw and took it in my hand. “It looks like a bear or something. Maybe a large cat?”

“That is no bear or cat, Morgan,” Koyaan spoke and knelt down on the opposite side of Masuka. He snatched the nail and examined it. “Wolf, a larger breed too.”

“There are no wolves in these parts,” LaGuerta cut in as she came over. “It’s imposs-”

“It is a wolf, ma’am. Do not tell me what is possible and what isn’t,” Koyaan began and stood. “If it was a bear, there would be less of the body and people would have seen it. Wild cats do not just strike down a human and certainly do not make such a mess, or leave the body for that fact.”

“And a wolf does strike helpless humans?” LaGuerta crossed her arms over her chest and stared Koyaan down.

“They do not, but I have studied them for years and I know what a wolf’s claw looks like. Mother, it appears this is our man.”



“Is this some kind of sick joke?” Deb asked, almost at the same time as LaGuerta. It’s strange to think that they’re more alike than they seem, and they hate each other.

“Typical Americans….” the Nashoba growled and tossed the claw back to Masuka. “The killer is a shaman. Each shaman has the ability to shape change into animals. The Great Spirit bestows this power upon them. -Oh I forgot, you Americans have no interest in Native cultures.”

I’ve heard of this before and seen it too. Rita forced me to watch the movie “ThunderHeart” with Val Kilmer. Only Jimmy was no shaman. The concept was interesting but I doubted it was true but now it seems a bit too real. The slash marks at the victim’s neck were clearly claw marks but the quick, brutal slash across the belly was made from a knife of some kind. The bite marks on the half chewed arm was evidence enough and the bloodied footprints leading away before disappearing in thin air.



“Are you saying that some freak of nature was able to do this? Change into a werewolf and run off?” Doakes asked from behind, glaring at Koyaan.

“Arrogant fool.” The comment from Nashoba irritated Doakes all the more. “Werewolves are not shamans. Haven’t you seen any of the werewolf movies out there? It seems to be a popular past time with the vast majority of Americans.”

“Mother, relax. They may be ignorant but no need to chew them out.” Mehnit to the rescue. “Sgt. Doakes, as you probably know from the lame werewolf movies out there, lycanthrope is spread by virus. The killer we’re after is not a werewolf by all means considering he can shape change to whatever he pleases. Whether it is a wolf, a crow, raven, mongoose, hawk, deer, anything.”

“And who the fuck are you?” he snapped, looking even more aggravated with Mehnit’s calm composure. It seems she also disturbed him, but not nearly as much as Koyaan, Tala and I. No surprise.







Mehnit sighed heavily and extended her hand. “Mehnit Ohanzee Nashoba. Luckily I am nothing like my mom or my psychopathic brother,” she said with a smile and light laugh. Doakes hesitantly took her hand to shake. “Now, as I was saying, shamans are not werewolves. We do not have them in our culture, but the Wendigo is a whole other animal.”

“Wendigo?” Dexter asked, looking just as lost as the others.

“A Wendigo is basically a cannibalistic spirit that enjoys going after humans and eating them. Non-Native people have mistaken the Wendigo for vampires, werewolves and any other creature that eats human flesh. Regardless of those myths, according to Algonquian cultures, the Wendigo is a bear,” Mehnit replied in a very matter-of-factly tone.

“’A Wendigo’? You mean there are more than one?” Doakes asked, unbelieving.

“Of coarse there is. Why do you think some cannibals end up going off the deep end?”

Doakes fell silent as he stared at the Egyptian Native. “Really now, what the fuck are we dealing with? One of these ‘Wendigo’s?”

Mehnit snarled as she glared to Doakes. “Have you not been listening to me? A Wendigo is a cannibalistic spirit that possesses humans who have done cannibalistic rituals! This is not the product of a Wendigo attack! Our killer is not a damned Wendigo! We are not Ojibwa or Algonquian!”



“The Wendigo are only in the Northern United States as well as parts of Canada. We come from down south,” Tala reminded them in a much calmer tone than Mehnit. “Besides, if this was an attack from a Wendigo, nothing would remain of this body.”

“Okay, okay, so if it’s not this cannibalistic spirit, then what exactly is it?” LaGuerta asked as she turned her attention back to Tala.

“As Koyaan said, a shaman.”

“But she just said that Wendigo’s eat the flesh of humans. If it was a shaman, that would mean he’s a cannibal,” Doakes pointed out.





Doakes had a good point. The flesh was eaten away from the bones in places but no bear would have the coordination to sever the head and neatly place it on the pike as so.

“Not all shamans are good. There are a few who misuse the power of the Great Spirit,” Nashoba continued and locked eyes with Doakes. He looked away first, which gave Nashoba a boost of pride, but in her silent victory, his eyes locked onto mine. I could see he was accusing me of it all, not even realizing he was looking at the Bay Harbor Butcher. How I loathed that name, but this masterpiece before us isn’t even close to my work.

Needless to say, whoever did this knew exactly what they were doing. Wendigo, shaman or whatever it is. Our amazement and shock fed Koyaan’s prideful and wicked smirk. Whatever he was smirking at, it gave me the chills. It was only later that day when we found out who the mangled body was. A man by the name of Jack Sparrow one of Tala’s many lovers and ex-husbands.



-------End

Brief note: Please allow a decent amount of time between chapters for all of you who follow this fan fiction. School is annoying and teachers are real pains.

Also, I mentioned that this would be a crossover. By crossover, I mean there will be references to multiple other things as well as other adventures the infamous Nashoba line has been through. No worries, it’ll still be about Dexter for the majority of the story. More details will follow.