Dexter (2006–2013): Season 3, Episode 12 - Do You Take Dexter Morgan? - full transcript

As the wedding day approaches, Dexter still has Ramon to deal with. Meanwhile, the Skinner is still loose, and Dexter is his next intended victim.

Previously on Dexter.

I can honestly say I know
who Miguel Prado really is.

My first good friend.

We need to go after
the root cause.

Blood-sucking, soulless
defense attorney Ellen Wolf!

Walk in the park
to discredit you, Counselor.

- Try it.
- Oh, I'm not the one on trial.

- Oh, you should be.
- You should be!

- This is personal.
- Fuck yes, this is personal.

And it should be personal for you too.

As my friend.
I'm asking you to do this for me.



- Sorry, no.
- Well, then fuck you!

Miguel went missing last night.
Ellen's missing this morning.

I hope she didn't get
in an accident or something.

He did it. Miguel really did it.

Wow. I didn't get it before, Miguel,

but you can't be reasoned with,
guilted, controlled.

This whole back-and-forth game
for leverage is pointless.

That's right! I'll do what I want,
when I want,

to whomever I want! Count on it!

Yes, we will marry you.

You should be my best man.

- What?
- I trust you more than anyone.

Why are you running your mouth about
family business to a goddamn stranger?

Dexter is not the problem here.



Better keep your fucking
hands off of me, pendejo.

Ellen Wolf's ring.

Ellen Wolf was threatening
to wreck his career.

He has a black SUV and no alibi
for the night she died.

You think Miguel had something
to do with her murder?

I found this sample
in the back of his car.

While LaGuerta's deciding,
I'll be eliminating her problem.

And George King's going to help me.

I'll copy his MO. They won't even look
for another suspect.

I am this close to getting my shield,
and I'm putting it all at risk to be with you!

Then, Debra, why are you?!

I need for you
to seriously think about us.

You've had a bug up your ass
about Dad for months now.

He didn't cheat on Mom.

- Bullshit. Who?
- A CI.

Laura Moser. My mother.

I kinda need a favor.

That's what I'm here for.
What do you need?

All the records you have on my
dad's confidential informants.

The Skinner. George King.

The Nicaraguan embassy
is still giving me the run-around.

Until we know King's true identity,
there's not much to go on.

You need to have a long conversation
with Dexter Morgan.

You think I'm done with you?
You think this ends here?

It doesn't!

It does for you.

There are few milestones in life

that evoke a stronger response
than our final act.

Death.

What was once moving, speaking,
killing and threatening

becomes nothing
but an empty vessel,

which is not so different
from how I've always felt.

Several patches of skin
removed from the, uh, shoulder area.

Ligature marks on the neck.

Why the fuck would the Skinner
wanna kill Miguel Prado?

Miguel was after Freebo.

King had to figure
he knew something.

We all react
in different ways to death.

Some, like Ramon, choose anger.

Others cling to ritual.

Dex, I know he was your friend,

so if you wanna
take a pass on this...

Nah, that's all right. I got it.

Me, I'll play the grieving friend
who buries himself in his work.

You can tell a lot about a person
by the friends he keeps.

And this is my best friend.

Goodbye, Miguel.

Don't fucking
touch my brother.

Let go of my arm.

Now.

Come here.

I am going to find out
why this happened.

We all want the same thing, Ramon.

That was awkward.

I don't think I've ever been
asked to leave a funeral before.

Ramon didn't ask you to leave.
He pushed you out the door.

Yeah, he was drunk.

I could smell the fumes.

He's just so angry.

He's lost two brothers.

He doesn't know who to blame.

Well, certainly not you.

No, certainly not me.

Hey.

How you handling this?

Oh, you know,
a lot of different emotions.

I know Miguel wasn't
the man you thought he was.

But you lost a friend.

You don't have to be so strong.

Can't help it.

Oh, poor Syl.

- She has so much to deal with.
- I can only imagine.

She insists we go through
with the wedding. She still wants to come

- to the rehearsal dinner tomorrow night.
- Yeah...

life goes on.

From your mother?

Mm. She's not coming down.

She started teaching again
and can't miss class.

- Too bad.
- That's my loving mother.

"Let's hope the third one's the charm."
What's that mean?

Mm.

The kid.

The third kid is the charm.

Cody and Astor are charms too.

Like I said, that's my loving mother.

Did Rita just lie to me?

So have you written your vows yet?

Not completely.

What should I say?

Well, you can talk
about togetherness,

loyalty, attraction, honesty.

Honesty. Right.

You know, I should get home
and keep working on them.

Mm. You should keep that.

He gave me so much.

Darling Rita,
once you were a dream and a prayer.

Now our future is as bright as the sun
glinting off the morning dew.

And I vow that I will...

Sounds like I'm marrying a unicorn.

Excuse me, sir. You the occupant?

- Yeah.
- Detective Pratt.

Property manager called us.
They found your door open.

Yeah, he called me too.

We're gonna need you to take a good
look around and see what's missing.

It's kinda hard to tell.

Your neighbor, a Ms. Levin,

saw someone hanging
around the mailboxes.

Latin, kinda burly, goatee.
Ring any bells?

Ramon Prado.

No.

Thanks. Let me know
if you find out anything.

You got it. Thank you.

Miguel warned you that his death
wasn't gonna be the end of things.

So his plan was to make me
hire a housekeeper?

Your suit for the wedding.
That's personal.

Ramon Prado's
like a gut-shot animal.

You know what to do
with a wounded animal.

You put it out of its misery.

I can't kill him.
He doesn't meet the code.

Can't kill him.

Can't ignore him.

I have no intention of ignoring him.

I can use the ring
to tie Miguel to Ellen Wolf's murder,

threaten to destroy Ramon's
sainted brother's reputation forever.

That's enough
to get Ramon to back down.

Sara.

Dexter?

How are you?

Honestly, not so great.

I'm sorry, is... is Ramon in?

No. He didn't come home with us
from the funeral.

Doesn't answer his cell.

He's been on a bender, Dexter.
I have no idea where he is.

Oh.

I'm really worried about him.

If you hear from him,
will you let him know I stopped by?

Ramon's blood family
doesn't know where he is.

Maybe his blue family does.

Morning. Sheriff's Department.

Yeah, could you put me through
to Sergeant Jessie Whitaker, please?

One moment, please.

Gail Brandon.
Future mother-in-law.

While I'm waiting, I may as well
check into my new partner.

Sergeant Whitaker's in the field.
Would you like to leave a message?

Uh, this is sort of important.
I'm with Miami Metro Homicide.

- You think you can track him down?
- Please hold.

Before she left Michigan,
Rita Bennett would have been

Rita... Brandon.

Ackerman.

Paul Bennett
wasn't her first husband.

She was married before, at 16.

Ending in a divorce six months later.
An impetuous teen marriage.

Which makes me her third husband.

The charm.

The brass is giving us a blank check
as far as overtime is concerned

The brass is giving us a blank check
as far as overtime is concerned

until this man is in custody.

Jorge Orozco.

AKA George King.

Affectionately known back home
as el Fierro, the Blade.

Orozco was a captain
in the Resistencia Nicaragüense.

The Contras.
He headed an interrogation unit.

He tortured people for a living.

And killed them.

Now this already was a big case.

With Miguel Prado's murder,
it's officially huge.

This is Whitaker.

Hi, my name is Dexter Morgan. I'm trying to
track down your old partner Ramon Prado.

Why?

I'm a family friend.

Sara told me he's been missing
since his brother's funeral.

I figured with his problem and all...

Gotcha.

Actually, I haven't seen him
since he left.

I know a few places
he used to hang out at.

I mean, basically any bar
within a ten-mile radius.

I can give you a few
of his favorites, if you like.

I'm sure Sara would appreciate that.

Yeah, I'm sure.

I'd love to help them
with George King,

but I've got a more pressing
situation to deal with -

Miguel's wounded messenger.

Morgan... a minute?

Sure, Sarge.

So it took a couple of months
and a lot of wrangling,

but my budget request
finally came through.

Homicide is gonna get
a little extra money.

Oh, that's great. We should get
one of those crime-sight imagers.

Have you seen 'em?
Their pictures are amazing.

Really?

I mean, that's what you'd spend it on?

Cause I was thinking maybe we'd spend it
on adding another detective to our squad.

Oh.

Maybe somebody
who saved the life of a CI

who ID'd our Skinner.

Ohh.

Uh...

I don't know what to say,
I mean, wow.

Thank you.

I put in the recommendation
to Lieutenant LaGuerta.

She's just gotta sign the paperwork.

Oh, fuck.
Thank you, thank you.

We could use a little joy around here.
Good work.

Thank you.

I got it.

I'm guessing "it"
is something good?

My detective shield.

Oh, big news.

It's gigantic news. All LaGuerta has to do
is sign the papers and I'm golden.

Well, I'm silver.

- We should celebrate.
- Yeah, come on.

I mean later. I gotta pick up the kids,
go to the tailor's...

Oh, yeah. Yeah, yeah.

You know, Dad would be proud.

That still means something,
no matter how flawed he was.

Yeah, look at us.

You're getting married.

I'm making detective.

The Morgans
are gonna be all right.

- I'll see you at the rehearsal dinner.
- OK.

Yo, Francis.

Any progress
on my dad's CI files?

Ooh, he knew a lot of folks,
I'll give him that.

Anyone of interest?

I haven't culled through everything yet.

Are you sure you want me to?
Some things are better left in a box.

I just...

I need to put a face on her.

Knowing all the details
isn't gonna change the fact

that he was messing around on the sly.

I know.

I'll send 'em up as soon as I can.

Thank you, Francis.

Dexter. I need a word.

The city council has voted
to name the freeway interchange

near my house after Miguel Prado.

I drive that way every single day.

He was a hero.

To some.

He was a cold-blooded killer.

He murdered my friend,
and now he's got an interchange?

I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

But you're the only other person
who knows the truth.

Maybe it's time
we let others in on the secret.

There is nothing to link Miguel
to Ellen Wolf's murder

except evidence that was obtained
illegally, and therefore inadmissible.

I'll find something.
I'll tear his life apart if I have to.

He doesn't have a life any more.
It's his family you'd have to tear apart.

The community.
The Cuban community.

And you still might not be able
to prove anything.

So I just keep it a secret.

I hate secrets.

We all have them.

Well, then tell me, Dexter.

How am I supposed
to live with this?

You just do.

Can I get an everything burrito
and a side of beans,

maybe a little bit of...

Anton.

- Hey.
- Hi.

- You're here.
- Yeah.

Yeah, I was just, um, picking up
some things from evidence.

My wallet, watch, chapstick.

- I could've brought that to you.
- No, it's cool. It's cool, I got it.

- So how you doing?
- I'm all right.

- Good.
- Oh, but...

Looks like I'm gonna get
my detective shield.

- Debra, wow, that's great. Congratulations.
- Thank you.

That's good. That's good.

- You wanna get some co...
- I should probably go.

OK.

- I'll see ya.
- I'll see you.

I stopped at four bars,
got a new appreciation

for how many alcoholics
there are in Miami.

But still no Ramon.

Morgan.

What's up?

I just found out from the ADA's office
that they're requesting logs

from the Anton Briggs
surveillance detail.

Now, I didn't know why
until I read 'em.

You slept with our key witness?

- The ADA's looking into it?
- Miguel Prado was.

I don't know what the status
of it is now, but it's a conflict,

and you should have
given me the heads up.

Especially before I sent my recommendation
to LaGuerta for your shield.

- You're gonna spike it now?
- LaGuerta has final say.

But she deserves full disclosure.

Disclosure? Really, Sarge?

Did you disclose that you met Gianna
because you were out strolling for a hooker?

- Where did you hear that?
- I...

- Where'd you hear that?
- I know someone in Vice.

I'm the only one that knows, I think.
It's not even that big of a deal.

Fuck, fuck! I am sorry. I'm sorry.

It's just my chickens
coming home to roost.

Oh, fuck, fuck.

I met Detective Gianna
while seeking the comfort of prostitutes.

Excuse me?

I propositioned her.

She revealed to me to be police.

She had mercy on me.
She let me off with a warning.

It was a dark time for me.

I completely understand
if you wanna pursue a case against me.

As cases go,

laying you out for thinking with your dick
is pretty low on my list of priorities.

Actually, I was looking
for simple human connection.

No. Right.

You're right.

We all have secrets
we prefer not to share, Angel.

Skeletons.

Feel free to keep yours in the closet.
Deep in the closet.

- Thanks, Maria.
- Mm-hm.

There's something else you should hear
from me instead of the grapevine.

Angel, how dark of a time was this?

It's regarding my recommendation
of Debra Morgan for detective.

So, when you and mom
get married, what should we call you?

Um, I think Mr. Handsome
would be a good name.

Is that you, Ramon?

Uh, you can call me whatever you want.

I think we'll just call you Dexter.

That sounds good.

Following me with kids in my car?

Now you're just pissing me off.

Moment of truth.

Stop or get a ticket, asshole.

Did you see that, Dexter?

Yeah, that's what happens
when drivers do stupid things.

Looks like he's OK enough
to walk away.

Until I get a hold of him.

This is gonna be a nice dinner.

Thank you for doing this, Dexter.

Just doing what grooms
are supposed to do.

So how are you coming along
with your vows?

Still working on 'em.

I'm going to lob this in nice and easy.

What kind of vows did you do
the first time around?

The first time?

Well, Paul and I just recited
whatever the pastor said.

Liar, liar, pants on fire.

Maitre d' said we'd be seated
in 15 minutes.

Un-fucking-believable.

Ramon, why don't we go outside
and talk about this?

Fuck you. You don't tell me what to do.

Look, these people
have nothing to do with this.

This is between you and me, right?

I should put a bullet in your head.
In front of everybody.

So they can see
what it's like to lose someone.

Ramon. Come on, you need to put
the gun down before anyone gets hurt.

Freeze, asshole.

Ohh! Aah!

Ohh! Uhh! Get your hands off of me!

I will, as soon as I get
some of your sheriff buddies down here!

Thank you.

They all say the same thing.

"King was a very polite gardener.
I can't believe he's the Skinner."

I hate polite killers.

I heard you took down
Ramon Prado last night. Again.

Yeah, the Prados must love me.

Morgan.

You gonna eat that?

Not any more, thanks.

That was Robbery.

There was a hit-and-run
fender bender involving a stolen car.

Traffic enforcement caught
the guy's face. Guess who.

They're sending a photo over right now.

- George fucking King.
- God, that's definitely him.

Robbery's sending the car in right now.

I'll grab my kit.
We'll tear that car apart.

By the book, Mr. Morgan.

If you need us,
we're right outside, Lieutenant.

Thanks.

- How's it feel, Ramon?
- How the fuck does what feel?

Wake up sober
for the first time in a week.

- Like shit.
- Yeah, that shit's called reality.

It's gonna be life
as you know it for a long time.

I'm gonna be outta here
in a couple of days.

One last coupon from your
famous brother's reputation.

Something like that.

So you don't really have to bother
with reality. That must be nice.

You know what
my fucking reality is?

Miguel takes me on as a bodyguard,
and I ask him why.

You know what he says?

To protect him from you.

Did he say why?

No.

The only one Miguel needed
protection from was himself.

- Hmm.
- The man was paranoid.

- That's not true.
- That's true.

You know it as well as I do.

Look, I spent a lot of time
with your brother, but it wasn't 24/7.

I don't know what he was up to
when I wasn't around.

Neither does Syl, neither do you.

What I do know is this.

You got a really ugly history.

Kidnapping, brutality, abuse.

You trashed my apartment.
You followed me.

You put a gun in my face
in front of my friends,

in front of my pregnant fiancée.

- Why, Ramon? What's your endgame?
- To hurt you.

Until you came into our life,
everything was fine.

Fine like what?
Like Oscar's drug problem?

Like Miguel's... darkness?

What do you know about that?

We were close, Miguel and I.
He told me things.

He told me how he pushed
your father down the stairs

to protect Oscar and you.

And that he enjoyed it.

He fucking told you that?

It was me that did that to our father.

Miguel took it from me,
made it his story.

Part of his goddamn legend.

Miguel always had to be the star.

He got the looks,
the charm, maybe even the brains,

but I got the strength.

I spent my whole life
trying to hold it together,

and now it's all gone to shit.

- It doesn't have to.
- Bullshit.

Those cases you're talking about,
the kidnapping, the brutality...

that was me sweeping up
after Miguel's fuck-ups.

He wasn't making my problems go away.
I was risking my ass to cover his.

Hey, I know the frustration,
the disappointment

of wanting to help your brother
and not being able to.

Where's your son right now?

Soccer practice.

Your daughter?

Preschool.

Where do they think their father is?

Sara told them something.

I...I don't know.

Someday your kids will be old enough
to see the truth for themselves,

just like you did with your father.

I know. I've been there.

The sins of the father
go on and on,

from kid to kid to kid,

unless someone - you -

...chooses to end them.

I've been there too.

You don't always have to destroy
a wounded animal.

Sometimes you just
remove the thorn.

Those dark lines...

reticulated veins.

Oh, holy shit, it is skin.

No, more like...

- more like leaf.
- So the only evidence we got

from the car that Skinner stole
is a friggin' leaf?

You gotta be fucking kidding me.

Yep. Tobacco leaf.

Tobacco?

Fucking A, wasn't there a...

King's, uh, former employer,
what was the name?

Thank you, Vince.
You're welcome.

Cigar company.
What was it called?

Uh...

El Royale Cigar Company.

It's listed on the first tax form filled out
by King in 1992. Come on, let's go.

- What do you think?
- It's great.

Thanks for doing this so fast, Bruno.

Happy to help. Now, you do that.

- OK.
- And I'll get your shoes.

Remember what I taught you?

How could I forget?

Mom's funeral.

The rabbit hops over the log.

Your mother would be so proud.

Both of them.

The rabbit crawls under the log.

The rabbit runs
around the log.

One more time, because he's trying
to outsmart the fox.

The rabbit...

dives through his rabbit hole.

Safe and sound.

Safe and sound.

Safe and sound.

- What's this?
- All we got out of the cigar factory.

- It was a total waste of time.
- No sign of King?

The security guard's there round the clock.
No way King gets in or out.

Tomorrow is my wedding day.

Some men would be excited.

Others panicky.

Me?

I feel... calm.

- What are you doing here on a Saturday?
- Oh, hey.

I'm just, uh, reanalyzing some
of the evidence from King's stolen car.

Francis, you came through.

Morgan.

Glad you're here.
I wanna talk to you.

Oh, shit. I didn't know she was here.

Did I say anything bad about her?

You're not the one
she's gonna ream.

- Sit.
- Um...

that's OK.

It seems the ADA has noticed

that your personal
and professional lives are colliding.

All right.

Listen, Anton wasn't officially a CI
when that happened.

So it was a one-time thing?

- No.
- Still going on?

I'm not sure.

Do you want it to?

I don't know. He could be
a key witness in my case.

Doesn't have to be your case.

You know what?

You go ahead.

You take away my case. You take away
my shield. I don't care any more.

Because it wasn't the wrong decision.

I wanted to be with Anton.

I still want to be with Anton.

And there is no possible way
that us being together is a mistake.

Which means you're not sacrificing
your personal life to work.

Good for you.

Congratulations, Detective Morgan.

What?

You're one of the smartest,
hardest-working,

most annoying pain-in-the-ass cops
in my department,

and you've earned this.

What about the ADA's ethics probe?

The ADA is dead.

- Try one of these.
- Oh!

Ganache frosting.

You hold on to that personal life.

Yeah.

Reminds us what's important.

Cupcakes.

Abso-fucking-lutely.

Such a familiar situation.

Such an unfamiliar perspective.

George King.

So Ramon wasn't
the only one following me.

I underestimated Miguel after all.

This is the part where my fear
is supposed to build.

I know his MO by heart.

But you're not afraid.

No. I'm not.

I am.

I've been scared of it coming to this
your whole life,

a violent end.

- I tried to protect you.
- And you did.

This is my fault for not trusting you.

Instead I trusted
Miguel fucking Prado.

You did the best you could.

I need you to understand
something, Dexter.

So did I.

The very best I could.

I hope to be half as good a father
to my son.

Your son.

Dad.

I forgive you.

I've never seen you cry before.

They're not my tears, Dex.
They're yours.

I know, but I've never...

I've never felt this.

You've never had a son before.

You want to see him
come into the world?

Yes.

To raise him with Rita.

To watch him grow up.

- To protect him.
- I know.

I didn't,

until now, when it's all
gonna be taken away.

I wanna be there for him.

I've never wanted anything
so much in my life.

- Hey.
- Hi.

Come in.

You're completely
different from me.

You're laid-back and... musiciany and...

unambitious.

You're like Valium.

And you're like Red Bull.

You are the best thing
that has happened to me.

I'm still a witness in your case.

It's not my case. I recused myself.

You gave up a case? This case?

I had a choice.

I chose you.

Your turn.

I've already chosen.

OK.

Hold on. Hold on, I'll turn it off.

Wait, just, uh...

What?

George King wasn't
at that cigar factory.

Fucking duh, but that's
not my case anymore.

Why?

Well, I re-ran the tobacco
that we got from George King's stolen car.

It turns out it's at least
a dozen years old.

I called the cigar factory.
They only moved in there three years ago.

Where'd they move it?

I know that look.

I've had that look.

He likes control.

Needs it.

So I'll take it away from him.

I killed Freebo.

Sorry about that.

I tied him up. Not unlike this.

Stabbed him
in the left carotid artery.

Used a 16-inch, carbon steel bone saw
to separate his limbs.

I don't believe you.

Divided them equally
amongst six biodegradable trash bags.

Which are long gone now,
carried north on the Gulf Stream.

You're lying.

Usually.

Not now.

No point.

Why would you have done
such a thing?

Oh, I have my excuses
and justifications,

but, really, I just...

need to.

Like you.

You have your flimsy excuses -

finding Freebo,
getting your money.

But you know he's dead.

You know there's no money.

So really, you're just...

a killer,

a monster.

The stuff of nightmares.

I could kill you now.

If you can convince
yourself I'm lying,

that you need to skin me
to get information out of me.

You are lying.

You do know where he is.

Miguel Prado tell you that?

He wanted me dead,
so he used you.

He played on your obsession.

It probably wasn't too hard.
I mean, you're a little single-minded.

Let's hope you're this talkative
once I get my tools.

A wolf would chew off its own paw,
its survival instinct is that fierce.

So is mine.

Aah!

Ahh.

Fuck!

King's truck, 11 o'clock.

Shit!

No way I could stop in time, ma'am.
He fucking came out of nowhere.

Jesus, Officer.
Scraped his fucking skin off.

Yeah, well, what goes around
comes around.

And it's "Detective".

Dexter's here.

- Just pulled up.
- Oh, finally.

Nothing to be concerned about,
but he kind of had a little accident.

- What happened?
- He took a tumble down some stairs.

- Broke his hand.
- Oh, my God.

Rita, he's fine.
He can't wait to get married.

- Hi.
- Dexter!

Dexter, your room is down the hall.
You cannot be in here.

Wow. You look...

Wow.

You can't see her till the wedding.
It's bad luck.

I think I got
that one covered, sweetie.

Oh, baby, are you OK?

Just embarrassed,
more than anything.

Sweetheart, why don't we go
and do your make-up?

- I'm sorry.
- It's OK.

- You're not angry?
- Why would I be?

It's not like you broke your hand
on purpose.

I'm just glad you're here. Safe.

Me too.

All right, now go, go.

OK. Be ready in a jiffy.

You really do look beautiful.

She wants to hold on to her secret
and I'm going to respect that.

It seems only fair,
given the secrets I keep from her.

We all have secrets. In that way,
I'm just like everyone else.

Sorta.

Heard about your little fall.
Are you OK?

Yeah, I'm fine. I heard
you nabbed George King.

Yeah.

Great, big, scary Contra boogeyman

gets surrounded and takes
the chickenshit way out.

Death by cop.

I'm glad he's the only one
who got hurt.

Yeah, me too.

Ugh. Me in a dress.
I feel like a transvestite.

Come here.

Rabbit goes under the log...

hops over the log...

again...

then... through his hole.

Safe and sound.

- Thanks.
- Just remember, Cody has your rings.

And don't lock your knees
when you're standing up up there.

You'll drop like a goddamn stone.

Where are your vows?

Right here.

I'm so happy for you.

Just wish Dad could be here.

I have a feeling he is.

Enough of this sappy shit.
Let's get you fucking hitched.

I honor you.

I love you.

I marry you.

I promise...

to be the very best husband

and father

that I can be.

A completely, utterly honest vow.

Dexter Morgan, family man.

All my previous attempts
at human connection

have ended in... well, death.

And now I have a partner for life.

How did that happen?

Am I drawn to the safety
of belonging

or being part of something
bigger than me?

Either way, I'm a married man.

Soon to be a father.

But what do I have to offer a child?

Just... me.

Demented daddy Dexter.

Maybe I'm making
the biggest mistake of my life.

But who's perfect? Certainly not me.

Certainly not Harry.

Sure, I'm still who I was, who I am.

Question is, what do I become?

There are so many blanks
left to fill in.

But right now, at this moment,
I'm content.

Maybe even...

happy.

And I have to admit,
when all is said and done...

life is good.