Previously on Dexter:
I've come to believe that the killer could be one of my former patients.
He sent both packages to you.
He doesn't know how to find me. Yet.
Well, I need to get to him before he gets to me.
I've got my eye on Joey Quinn. Quinn? There's no way he can pass
that sergeant exam. He'll pass.
I stuck my neck out on the line for you, and you better not fuck this up.
Lieutenant Morgan?
Is there a problem, officer?
Well, yes. You're in a car, drunk, with an open container.
Quinn. Why did she call you?
She's a friend. I couldn't say no. Come on, you used to fuck her.
There is nothing going on between me and Deb.
I wanna know if there was anything unusual about my father's death.
He killed himself, Dexter.
Harry walked in on what he created.
And he couldn't live with himself.
Trust me when I say
that there's a place in this world for your son.
I told you, you're perfect.
How can you say that when you know what I've done to Deb?
Unh!
I shot the wrong person in that trailer.
Your sister confessed to killing LaGuerta.
What? I'm telling the whole fucking truth!
There's nothing you can do to stop me!
I thought I could fix this, but you're right, I can't.
I just keep making her worse.
Do you really think you can help her?
Yes.
Stop!
Do it, Debra. Shoot him.
This is not who you are.
You are a good cop.
You're a good person. You're not like him.
Put him down!
It's true.
Everything she said.
You're a good person.
It's okay. Do what you gotta do.
Dex.
Tell me what you saw.
I don't wanna talk about it.
I brought you here so we can strip away the power
this place holds.
Talking's not gonna change anything.
Neither is continuing to repress what happened here.
I'm not repressing shit.
And I don't need you to remind me about what happened here.
You know, Dexter's need to kill was born in a container much like this one.
And he's been trapped inside its walls ever since.
As a psychopath, he will never break free.
But you can, by reliving the events of that night over and over.
I killed him.
I shot Dexter instead of LaGuerta. That's what I saw.
Unless you're gonna handcuff me, I'd really like to go.
When you shot Dexter, how'd it make you feel?
Better. Worse. I don't fucking know.
What does it even matter? LaGuerta is still dead.
What else could you have done? Arrest him.
Now your brother's on death row.
We could have run. Only to be caught.
You go to jail, Dexter gets the death penalty again.
You've become obsessed with the life you've taken.
You've forgotten the life you saved. Of course you defend him.
You created him. You're using him to track a serial killer.
This isn't about Dexter or me.
This is about you getting better.
Maybe I don't wanna get better. I don't believe that.
Why the fuck should I even trust you? Why the motherfuck do you even care?
Are you upset?
Yes, I am.
Good.
At least you're no longer avoiding your feelings.
We're done for now.
For today.
There are countless ways
to inflict physical trauma on the human body,
and sometimes the deadliest wounds are the ones we barely see.
They run deep,
like the ones I've inflicted on Deb.
What are we looking at?
Well, most of the blows are to her face.
There's some bruising around the neck.
It doesn't look like there was a struggle.
No signs of a break-in.
Yeah, given the lack of defensive wounds
and the close proximity of her attacker,
I'd say you're looking for someone she knew.
We have a name? Norma Rivera.
Landlord said she lived here by herself.
Got off the phone with the employer. Housekeeper in Biscayne Bay.
Nice zip code. Yeah.
Um, they said she had an ex in and out of her life, Roberto Sagastume.
Me and Miller can swing by his place. He had a record.
It's good to see you taking initiative,
like any good sergeant should.
Whoa, whoa, whoa. Yo.
You got my test back?
You nailed it, bro.
Oh.
Wipe that grin off your face before Miller sees it.
Yeah, I've just never been this happy to get back a positive test, you know?
What does my sister see in you? Before I forget
there was this hottie asking for you at the station.
And you seem surprised, why?
Said she'd come by later. They always come back for more.
Hey. Any word on Deb?
Yeah, Dr. Vogel says she's still day-to-day.
Let her know I was thinking about her. I will.
She's gonna be okay.
Opening shop. A run.
Caffeine. All morning routines.
But lately, mine consists of coming here,
waiting for the woman I left my sister with
to do what I couldn't, make Deb whole again.
Thank you. How is she?
Well, you still remain the focal point of your sister's pain.
I wanna see her.
I think it's better
you keep your distance for now.
It's been almost a week. Dexter, I am still not sure
if your sister has hit rock bottom yet.
What is it?
I just want you to prepare for the possibility
that Debra may never be able to have you back in her life.
No.
I won't just let her go.
So have you had better luck with our killer?
I crossed off three more former patients from your book.
Who's next on the list?
Chapter seven.
A.J. Yates.
I'll check back in once I check him out.
A.J. Yates.
According to Vogel's book, he attacked a classmate
with a chair at 12.
Institutionalised at 15.
Seems Vogel tried to channel his violent tendencies
but he was beyond her help.
Eventually, he was transferred to another hospital.
Now Yates seems to be a productive member of society.
He's a bundler. Cable, phone, Internet.
But I need to know if murder is part of the package.
There's nothing here.
Nothing in Vogel's notes about brain surgery.
His scar.
Is that the mark of one of her unconventional methods?
Thanks for letting me use the treadmill. Better you than me.
I'm not much for running in place.
Is that your shrink way of saying that I have been?
Is it? Care for some tea?
How about something stronger?
Come on, I just ran four miles. What's one beer?
The drinks and the drugs were keeping you numb,
making the symptoms of your PTSD worse.
Ass off the table.
How long are you expecting me to stay here?
I see a lot of your father in you.
Harry wrestled with the same doubts regarding Dexter.
You're not as alone as you might think.
Honestly, I don't see what the problem is.
He had everything laid out on his bedroom floor.
Dexter saw in the paper how this guy got off on a technicality
so he was stalking him, vetting him.
Even found a kill room in an abandoned house near the park.
Just how we taught him.
What did you tell Dexter?
That this guy was too high-profile, he'd be missed,
and that Dexter would have to wait.
He went along with my decision.
For now.
Is this ever gonna be right? What we've done?
I mean, Dexter isn't a kid anymore. He's becoming a man.
He's gonna kill.
We knew that day was coming.
But what happens when I finally tell him it's okay?
When he finally knows what it's like to take another person's life?
The code will do what it was designed to do.
Allow Dexter to be who he was meant to be.
But what if it doesn't?
What if the code doesn't keep him in check? What then?
What if this has all been some horrible mistake?
Obviously, Harry came around when he realised
what else could he have done?
Locked Dexter away in an institution?
Or do nothing until he took an innocent life?
Or protect your brother,
giving him the tools that he would need
to channel his urges.
The same way you protected Dexter in that container.
It's not the same. You're wrong.
Deb. I can't just accept it.
I'm not like him. I'm not like you.
Dexter— Dex— Dexter is fucking Dexter.
Debra, Harry did not make a mistake saving Dexter's life,
and neither did you.
That night in the container
Dexter was being exactly who he was meant to be
and so were you, the loving sister.
I— Will get through this.
Can I keep that tape? Yes.
He had everything laid out on his bedroom floor.
Dexter saw in the paper how this guy got off on a technicality...
Dexter, you shouldn't be here.
I was vetting Yates.
What did you do to him? What are you on about?
He has a scar on his head exactly where your killer
has been harvesting brain fragments.
Is he another one of your little experiments?
We can talk about this, but not here. Not with Debra in the other room.
An x-ray revealed a lesion on Yates' brain.
I suspected it was contributing to his violent behaviour,
so I...
I suggested the new hospital remove it.
I never knew whether they performed the surgery.
When I do what I do, I have to know everything.
Sorry for the oversight.
Why don't you tell me the real reason you're here?
You could have just called for the scar.
Is it regarding what I said about letting your sister go?
Dexter, I assure you
that I'm not judging your relationship with Debra.
I'm just trying to manage your expectations.
Why, because she thinks I'm a monster?
You think I don't know that I'm the one responsible for the pain she's in?
That's why she's here with you.
You have to get her to forgive me.
Whatever it takes, you have to find a way. I need her in my life.
You need her? Yes.
I understand that you love Debra in your own way.
In my own way. But why do you think you need her?
I just do.
Deb looks up to you. Isn't that what you said?
She used to.
And that made you feel good?
Yes. Well, no wonder you feel so lost.
Debra became a mirror, reflecting a positive image of yourself
that you used to balance out
with the notion of yourself as a monster.
Now that mirror is cracked,
and the only reflection you see is one of darkness.
You make it sound like that part of me isn't real.
You are no monster.
You never have been.
Anyone on my table would disagree.
Dexter, a monster, by definition, is outside of nature.
You're a part of the natural order of things,
with purpose and value, a right to exist.
When you accept that, you'll no longer be dependent
on Debra, or anyone's, validation.
I'll still want her in my life.
Want, but not need.
No van. No Yates.
No one home.
"Monterey Nursing Home.
Dad's 76th birthday."
It seems Yates found a way to keep his family in his life.
Will I be able to do the same with Deb?
Vogel says I don't need her.
But if that's true, will I be able to let her go if that's what she needs?
Women's shoes.
- Hello? - It's me.
I'm at Yates' house.
Have you found something? Women's shoes.
Individual shoes, not pairs,
some of them older.
High heels are a far cry from brains.
It's not exactly your killer's usual MO.
When this began, I expressed my doubts that this was the work
of someone new to killing.
Albert wouldn't be the first to alter his methods.
Yeah, still, something about it doesn't quite add up.
But just to be safe, I'm pulling prints off the shoes.
I'll run them through the station's database for missing persons
and homicide victims. But they're only partials.
I won't expect anything back until the morning.
And I have my son tonight.
Understood.
I'll let you know what I find.
Vogel.
She found herself a hero.
Hi.
Hello. You must be Dexter. I'm Cassie, 4-B.
And you're in my kitchen because? I'm a friend of Jamie's.
I ran out of detergent. Daddy!
I see you two have met.
I hope you don't mind. Who am I to deny
a neighbour clean clothes? Dinner's in the oven.
I'll see you in the morning? Sure.
I'll walk you out. Mmm!
Nice to meet you, Dexter. You too.
Bye.
She's nice.
But does she have a kissy-neck?
I knew you'd pass. I didn't.
Oh, thank you for that.
This one used to have to write the combination
of his locker on his wrist when he first got here.
So what? My memory sucks. You needed the right encouragement.
I don't even wanna know what that means.
We're empty.
You know, I really am so proud of you.
I couldn't have done it without you.
Who was behind the wheel?
Debra Morgan, former lieutenant of Homicide,
passed out, piss drunk. Ha, ha, ha! Come on, let it go.
I don't know who was fucked up more,
her or the parking metre she ran over.
Hey. How about professional discretion?
Yeah, well, I believe that we're off the clock.
But you could lower your voice, you know?
Yeah, sure. No problem. Thanks.
Who was that guy? I don't know.
He used to bone her or something.
Probably the way Morgan made lieutenant, on her back.
Fuck. Hey, hey, hey!
That's enough.
Enough, I said! Enough!
What the hell happened? Someone was defending
his ex-girlfriend's honour. Get him out of here.
You know what? It's fine. Let's just go. I'm sorry.
Hey, how about a round on the house?
All right, lieutenant. Fuck.
So we're good?
Mm.
Aah!
Babe. Babe, my ribs. Yeah?
I'm so sorry.
How many, mister? Two.
One for me and one for Dan.
Two it is. Sorry I'm late.
Who's Dan?
Pet elephant. You don't see him?
You want some pancakes, Dan?
Eat up.
Make sure Dan doesn't get any syrup on the couch.
Okay.
My car died. That "check engine" light I kept ignoring?
Apparently it means what it says. How'd you get here?
Angel. But don't worry, my car will only be in the shop for a few days.
I'm gonna see if Cassie can give us a lift to Harrison's preschool.
You know, you made quite an impression on her last night.
Impression? She's single. Just saying.
Hey, why don't you take the SUV? It's safer. I'll clear my stuff out.
If you can drop me off, I'll pick up a car from the motor pool.
Sure you don't mind?
I don't if Dan doesn't.
How did I let you talk me into this again?
I believe your price was one beer.
So now what? You tell me.
Isn't this where you think you belong? No.
Frankly, I'm quite amazed that you think you ever left.
Are we really gonna do this?
Debra, you shut yourself inside these walls for the last six months
doing your damnedest to shut everything
and everyone out. So why don't we?
What the fuck are you doing?
I want you to convince me how killing Dexter
instead of LaGuerta would be a better choice.
Open the fucking door. LaGuerta.
She was on her knees, where those blood stains are,
isn't that right?
She was your co-worker, your friend.
Why didn't you just stay at the party and let Dexter take care of everything?
I had to stop him. But Dexter can't help what he is.
He has no conscience, unlike you.
You knew the moment you pointed that gun
at LaGuerta it was wrong,
and still, you pulled the trigger.
You shot a woman in cold blood.
You let her bleed out and did nothing. You shot an innocent woman
for simply doing her job. Because of Dexter.
And that's what terrifies you the most.
You so desperately want to believe that if you had just shot Dexter,
then you wouldn't have to face the truth,
that if you had to do it all over again
you'd still choose him.
Because in your heart,
you know you'll always choose Dexter.
How do I make it right?
By finally accepting that you're a good person
who was forced to do a terrible thing.
And that you made the best of an impossible situation.
You can walk out that door. You can move forward.
The choice is yours. It always has been.
Oh, lieutenant. A word?
Of course.
I was just reviewing the sergeant's exam results.
And it seems you were right and I was wrong about Quinn.
Apparently, he can count past his fingers and toes.
He was in the 85th percentile. So was Miller.
In the 88th percentile, to be exact.
I want you to strongly consider making her sergeant.
Angie is good. I like her, a lot.
But I still think Quinn's the smarter— All I said was "strongly consider."
This is your first departmental promotion as lieutenant
and will reflect on your command. That being said
it's your decision and yours alone.
Three hits off the partials, all reported missing.
Janet Thorton, taken two weeks ago.
Looks like Yates killed these women,
but I still can't be sure he's the one after Vogel.
Not until he's on my table
and we have a little talk first.
Where are we on Norma Rivera? We're trying to find—
Miller. Address for the ex is no good.
Nobody's seen him. Got back the ME's report.
They found semen. I'm testing it to see if it's a match.
Would explain why he's off the grid. She invites him over.
Things get heated, he kills her, panics and goes on the run.
That's one theory. Find this guy. We're on it.
Dex-posé. Favour. I need you to stay away from the lab for a bit.
That hottie who's been looking for me is coming
and we might need alone time.
No problem.
You would know all about that. - You're better than that.
Come on, here. There's a 20 in it for anyone who directs her to my lab
and is cool about it. Done.
Okay.
I'm on my own. Perfect.
Angel.
I get it, okay? You're pissed about last night.
I had to run a tab so that asshole patrolman wouldn't press charges.
If Matthews caught wind of this, he'd have all the ammo he needed
to shoot down this promotion. I lost my cool.
I need my sergeant to be able to keep his.
A bar fight?
Technically, the place is a restaurant. It's not like you haven't done the same.
You put a guy in the hospital for running his mouth about LaGuerta using hers.
Allegedly. And the difference is, I wasn't up for promotion.
I had already made sergeant.
You wanna fix this? Solve this case.
Excuse me? Are you Vincent Masuka?
The one, the only.
But you can call me Vince.
Just as long as you call.
Okay. I'm Niki.
I'm a student at U of M.
Oh, yeah. My alma mater. Come in.
You must be majoring in
beautiful.
This is really hard. I know the feeling.
I think you may be my father.
You were a sperm donor in college, right?
Mm-hm.
But you have curls. Yeah, my mom.
Holy...
Oh, fuck.
This was a bad idea. Sorry.
I'm sorry. It's okay. No, don't worry.
It's okay, don't— Don't— Don't—
It's okay. Don't worry about it.
Oh, my God.
You've got my soulful, yet haunting eyes.
Night, Marty. See you tomorrow.
We do have filing cabinets, you know.
This is kind of my process.
What are you even doing here?
I thought you were taking time off.
Turns out time off isn't all it's cracked up to be. Heh.
I just wanted to get a head start on some of the cases that you left for me.
Well, we're gonna need food.
"We"? Yeah, we.
You look like you could use a hand, and I'm starving.
You know, when I need a break,
I've got maybe two days at the most.
And then I go crazy.
I end up right back here.
What about you?
What makes you crazy?
Family shit.
Hm.
Nothing says family like love
and shit.
Unfortunately, my father was an expert in the latter.
Texas oil. Texas oil?
Mm.
Fuck, I hope I'm holding my plastic fork correctly.
Exactly. He was all rules, all the time.
My moving to Miami to be a cop,
that was the biggest "fuck you" I could think of at the time.
When I got out of the academy, I realised it was nothing but rules.
Everybody there was like your father. You know the worst part?
I knew I'd made a huge fucking mistake, but there was no way in hell
I was gonna give him the smug pleasure of knowing he was right.
So I waited until he died, quit the force.
I opened up this place.
Looks like you're doing pretty well for yourself.
Trust me, I'm still the black sheep.
The look on my mother's face every time she goes into the country club,
has to explain to one of her friends that her son is a PI?
That's gotta be pretty close to priceless.
Mm.
My dad was everything to me.
I loved him.
And while he's not the man I thought he was...
well, I'm...
I'm realising we're more alike than I thought.
To dead dads.
Long may they haunt us.
Heh.
It's a better toast if you open it.
I'm good.
Vogel says I'm not a monster,
but that's exactly the part of me
she's expecting to remove Yates as a threat.
A threat that seems to have left in a hurry
and taken all his shoes.
Does this prove Yates is who I'm looking for?
The only way to know for sure is...
find where he's hiding.
He saw me here, heard everything.
Bone saw. Specimen jars.
His own cut-by-numbers guide.
Yates is the brain surgeon.
Vogel needs to know.
I know her. I pulled her print.
Yates must have stabbed her,
nicked her left pulmonary artery, left her for dead.
Unaware cramming her inside that cart
would put pressure on the wound and stop it from bleeding.
Now I have to do the same.
It'll hold, but not for long.
Do you think the girl will be all right?
She lost a lot of blood.
I stemmed the bleeding, dropped her in the ER, got back as fast as I could.
Oh, God, has he been
doing all this because of me?
We can't know until we find him.
Let's hope there's something on here that'll tell me how.
These are patient files.
Your patient files.
That's not possible.
This one's dated just two weeks ago. Dexter, don't.
What is this?
You were keeping notes on me?
It's a journal. I've always had a journal.
You were writing down everything we did, everything we talked about.
I never used your name. Yates, nor anyone else
could possibly know who you are. "Somehow, he's deluded himself
into thinking his feelings for his sister are genuine,
unaware there are no real emotions behind them."
Dexter, I— I never meant—
What am I, a subject for another one of your books?
Is that what these are for?
Answer the question!
My notes, it's how I process—
You were experimenting on me with Harry
and you still are.
I'm nothing but a lab rat, just like Yates.
That's not true. You know that.
Is that why you wanna keep me apart from Deb?
Just another way to isolate your subject,
see what he'll do?
Dexter... Don't.
When Yates is dead, you are out of my life.
It's over. You understand?
Or do you need to write it down?
I understand.
I walked into the room and—
- Go on, tell me. - The blood.
Evelyn, there was so much blood, on plastic.
Dexter had placed it everywhere. The walls, the ceiling.
There was a table in the middle of the room. A table with—
- The body? - Parts of one.
And when Dexter turned, the look on his face—
He was so proud.
When— The man Dexter killed, he was a drug dealer.
He murdered your partner. He was going to get away with it.
But he was a person.
Who, according to the code, deserved—
No one deserves to be in pieces.
In bags.
The code is a theory, an idea.
But what I saw, what Dexter did—
What we did!
I don't think I can live with this.
Fuck, and I'm supposed to?
Hello? Mr. Yates?
Yeah, that's me.
I'm afraid we have some bad news.
Your father's heart is failing.
How bad is it?
You should come quickly. He might not have much time.
Dad.
I got here as fast as I could.
I'm right here. Can you hear me?
It was you?
I was counting on you being the good son.
They'll be here any second.
Room 26, code blue!
We're losing him. We're losing him! To save his own life,
Yates was willing to take his father's.
Vogel believes I'm just like all her other experiments,
a psychopath who can't form real connections.
But she's wrong.
Deb isn't a prop, like Yates' father was to his son.
She's more than a mirror. She's family.
If I have a purpose and value and a right to exist,
so do my feelings for Deb.
This experiment is over. Vogel can go to hell.
Jamie packing you lunch these days? It's for you.
Just came back from Good Samaritan.
Run the blood on the clothes of a stabbing victim, Janet Thorton.
She still alive? Still in surgery.
The son of a bitch who stabbed her broke all of her toes.
How soon do you need this? Very. On my way to the hospital
to get a statement, soon as docs say she's out of the woods. Let me know
what comes back on those clothes. Will do.
Deb.
What the fuck?
Hey. Hey.
You here to see Dex?
Yeah.
Everything okay? Because last time I saw you—
Yeah, I am sorry about that.
I'm so sorry I put you in that position.
Sorry I got mad at you for calling Dex.
No, it's okay. You asked me not to.
I was in a really bad place,
but, you know, you were just looking out for me,
like you always do.
Things are so easy with you.
I wish it was like that with Jamie.
I just keep getting tripped up, you know?
You all all right? Um, she's jealous.
She thinks there's still something between us.
Make it work with Jamie. Heh.
I want you happy.
You mean so much to me, Joey.
Don't you fucking forget that.
Thanks.
You sure you're okay? I gotta go.
Bye, Joey.
Deb.
The body forms scar tissue to close a wound.
Has my sister begun to do the same?
Eventually, scars fade. Who knows?
With enough time, you may not even remember how you got them.
Dex.
Hey, Deb. What's up?
We should talk. It's important.
Yates can wait. My sister can't.
Sure, I'd like that.
Just not here.
Can we take a ride?
It's good to see you.
Vogel said it was best I stay away.
What the fuck does she know?
If it's any comfort, we're not on the best of terms anymore.
She doesn't understand us, Dexter.
Exactly.
She said I might lose you,
but we'll always be together, right?
Vogel had these DVDs of her and Dad.
Did she ever show them to you?
A couple. You?
There was one that was really interesting. It was, uh,
just before Dad died. It was his last session with her.
Did Dad kill himself?
Yeah.
A few years back,
Matthews told me the truth.
Harry OD'd on his heart medication.
Was it because of you?
He thought he'd created a monster.
I think I know how he felt.
Why he killed himself.
But he only got it half right.