Dexter (2006–2013): Season 8, Episode 2 - Every Silver Lining... - full transcript

Previously on Dexter...

How is Deb?
She's better?

Yeah, she's great.

What case is she working on?

Briggs.
Andrew Briggs.

Deb, what's going on?

I'm fucking getting close
to Briggs

so that I can get the jewelry

before he fences it, all right?

Deb, you haven't talked
to me in weeks.

Because you made me compromise
everything about myself



that I care about.

I shot the wrong person
in that trailer.

Don't stop.
Don't stop.

Joey, the chance that someone
might find out

our little secret makes it
even more fun.

You're all sweaty.

Yup. Just doing
a little cardio.

- Oh.
- Looks like a piece of it

has been scooped out.

That's the anterior
insular cortex,

the portion of the brain

that processes empathy.

This is Dr. Evelyn Vogel.

Evelyn is a neuropsychiatrist.



I hear the FBI calls her

the Psychopath Whisperer.

- What was he like?
- Who?

The Bay Harbor Butcher.

I look forward to working
with you, Dexter Morgan.

Can you look into someone
named El Sapo for me?

- Who is he?
- He's a fucking fence.

El Sapo isn't a fence.
He's a hit man.

He's gonna get the jewels,
and he's gonna kill Briggs.

I'm trying to keep you
from getting shot

- along with him.
- [Screams]

I came here to save you.
Deb, look at yourself.

- You're lost.
- You are lost.

Dexter.

I was hoping to share something
with you.

What is it you want?

You can't kill me.

Why?

Because I don't fit
Harry's code.

[Static]

We're recording.

So, to review where we are,

two weeks ago, you told me

that your son Dexter

had asked to see
the actual scene of a homicide.

You also said that you opposed
this request.

Yes.
Because he's only ten years old.

So why are you here today?

He kept asking and asking,

so I decided to give him
what he wanted.

I even started to hope
it might shock him

out of this...condition.

Tell me what happened.

I got a call about a homicide

in Coral Gables.

A woman had shot her ex-husband

as he was trying
to break into the house.

I waited until the forensic guys
had cleared out,

and then I snuck Dexter
onto the scene.

The victim had fallen
through a sliding glass door,

so there was blood everywhere.

And it didn't seem
to faze Dexter.

And he wasn't bothered at all?

If anything, he was fascinated.

He just stood there, staring.

Like he was admiring
a painting.

I remember that day.
It was like a painting.

And I wanted to be the artist.

We didn't stay long,
and when we were driving home,

I noticed that...

Dexter was holding something
in his hand.

He'd stolen it
from the crime scene.

A trophy.

I'm right about Dex, aren't I?

[Crying]

There's something wrong
with him.

Not one to put it that way,
but I do agree

that Dexter is exactly
what you suspect him to be.

Trust me when I say
that there's a place

in this world for your son.

I don't know what it is
or what form it will take,

but we're gonna find it
together.

[Taps keys]

You were only ten years old

when your father
first sought my help.

I know almost everything
about you, Dexter.

Not just because I heard it
from your father,

but because I helped create you.

Create me.
You sound like Dr. Frankenstein.

Don't mean to.
Don't know how else to put it.

I mean, it was obvious
that you not only showed

all the classic traits
of a psychopath

but that you would eventually
become a killer.

So we were faced
with a little dilemma--

what to do with you.

It was me who convinced Harry
that your urges

couldn't be stopped,
but they could be focused.

Eventually we realized
that hunting animals

wasn't going to satiate you,
so we decided

that you could be taught to kill
other kinds of animals.

People who truly deserve to die.

You're saying you came up
with the code?

Harry had a big hand
in the details.

His law enforcement background
was certainly an asset,

but he was operating
under my guidance.

I can't help

but think of myself

as your spiritual mother.

I know we've only just met
face to face,

but this is
kind of like a reunion.

I should have chilled
some champagne.

You experimented on me.

That's what mothers do?

I developed a framework
for your survival.

That's what mothers do.

You made me what I am.

You'd have preferred
an institution?

Death row?

I could have turned my back
on you.

I could have let Harry
do the same.

I could have even notified
the authorities.

Why didn't you?

Well, let's just say
you got under my skin.

I came to care for you, Dexter.

I still do.

Why are you telling me this?

I saved your life.

And I'm afraid I need
to call in the favor.

I'm sure you recognize this.

It's a section
of the human brain.

Anterior insular cortex.

A murder victim was missing
the same piece of tissue.

And this is it.
In the flesh.

I found it on my doorstep
wrapped in butcher paper.

Unfortunately, there was
no return address.

Why would the killer
send this to you?

A message.

I've come to believe
that the killer could be

one of my former patients.

This would be
the perfect explanation

for this little gift.

You think it's a threat.

A brain on a doorstep.

Hardly a love letter.

Sooner or later,
someone's going to be holding

a piece of my brain in a jar.

I want you to find him, Dexter.

And I want you to do what Harry
and I taught you to do.

I don't take requests.

You have contacts at the FBI.

You're working with Miami Metro.

Why don't you go to them?

I wish I could.

What's stopping you?

You're not the first
psychopath I've treated.

You taught other people
the code?

No.
You're special.

But I've used
other unorthodox methods,

some of which
might be considered illegal.

So, if the police track down
this killer

and it's someone I treated--

Your unorthodox methods
might be exposed,

and your career would be ruined.

You might even go to jail.

You see my problem.

I see that it's your problem.

This will help put things
into perspective.

Well, come on, don't tell me
you're gonna pass up

on another piece
of your history.

Think about it,
but don't take too long.

Killer's out there, Dexter,

and I don't mind admitting I'm
afraid of what's coming next.

[Mama Cass' Make Your Own Kind
Of Music]

♪ Make your own kind of music ♪

♪ sing your own special song

♪ make your own kind of music

You don't deserve this,

but I don't have a choice.

I have to.

Dexter killed someone else
last night.

Who?

A drug dealer.

Guy robbed and killed
two of his clients.

College kids.

At least Dexter is following
the program.

He told me something new
that he did to the drug dealer

before he killed him.

And that was?

He made him look
at photos of his victims.

Interesting.

Did you ask him why?

He said it was something
he felt he needed to do.

What do you think it means?

Humans are born
with an innate sense of justice.

Maybe Dexter
is discovering his.

The important thing is,
after three kills,

he's embracing the process.

It's gonna work out
for him, Harry.

I hope so.

She believed in you

at a time when I was in doubt.

Vogel gave me this DVD
to make me feel

as if I owe her something.

Don't you?

If she's responsible
for creating me,

she's responsible
for what I've done to Deb.

Maybe Vogel can help you.

Help me how?

With Deb.

You must have told Vogel
a lot about Deb.

She was part of your life.

I wish she still was.

Deb said she hated me,

that she should have killed me
inside that shipping container

instead of LaGuerta.

Maybe I should just listen
to you,

stay away from her.

All I'm saying
is that Vogel might open up

some possibilities.

At the very least,

she's a window to your past

that you just can't ignore.

I don't trust Vogel.
I can't.

All the more reason
to keep her close.

Okay, just so we're
on the same page,

you're supposed to locate Briggs
and take him into custody.

So it's simple, right?

I was also supposed to find
the stolen jewelry, right?

Recover the goods, collect 20%?

Am I supposed to believe
that's what you were doing

for two weeks with Briggs?

Just looking for the jewelry?

Yes, Elway.

I mean, he wasn't
gonna just give it to me.

It wasn't just lying
around the apartment.

I had to play him.

What is that shit?
It looks like horse piss.

It's an electrolyte
replenishment formula.

You look dehydrated.
It impairs your judgment.

Probably fueling
that bad attitude.

So tell me, where does it say

undercover work
in your job description?

I was improvising.

Well, you put one of my assets
at risk.

Namely yourself.

That's my call.

Well, your asset is just fine.

I wish I could say
the same thing about Briggs.

We're gonna go
through that again?

I thought I told you.
I don't know what happened.

I came back to our room,
and he was dead.

"Our room"?

So you two were intimate?

[Chuckles]

First of all,
who says "intimate"?

And second, what does it
even matter?

I mean, what was I
supposed to do,

say, "Hey, Briggs,
can I have that jewelry

"that you stole,
'cause I'd love to get

the finder's fee on that too"?

I was doing my job.

If you were doing your job,
we wouldn't be sitting here

with nothing to show for it.

Well, we don't have nothing
to show for it.

I found these on Briggs.

This looks like a key
to a storage unit.

I bet my ass that's where
he stashed the stolen jewelry.

Why didn't you tell me that
in the beginning?

Because it's more fun
to watch you eat crow.

Take a bite.

We haven't found
the jewelry yet.

You could be wrong.

But what if I'm not?

- Then we recover 20%.
- Right.

And you'll love me for that.

Another morning, another body.

Miami makes more corpses
than sunburns.

And I'm thankful.

A crime scene might be
the only place left

where I can still control
the chaos.

Fuck me.

What does this guy think,

he's a fucking brain surgeon?

The brain surgeon.

[Giggles]

Anterior insular cortex is
missing just like the last one.

So we have a serial?

Vogel was right.

Judging from the lack of blood
around the head,

I'd say this one was done
post-mortem too.

No entry wounds.

Petechial hemorrhaging
around the eyes.

Bruising around the throat.

Asphyxiation.

So, the last time,
the killer left

the murder weapon
somewhere near the body.

Maybe he did it again.

So what are we looking for?

Ropes, nylons,

giant pillow.

Okay, everyone spread out.

A plastic bag?

Not the worst way
to asphyxiate someone.

Blood?

I think I've got
a murder weapon.

Let's hope he left a print.

I got another delivery today.

Like the other?

Same section of the brain.

If it is one of my patients
who's doing this, I...

I have to wonder
if I could have prevented it.

You never felt guilty
about what I was doing?

No.

All I ever felt was pride.

- Pride?
- Mm.

You're not evil, Dexter.

You're actually making the world
a better place.

Not for everyone.

What do you mean by that?

I'm going back to the lab.

We might have a print,
which gives us a head start.

So you're going to help me.

You don't seem surprised.

Like I said,
even though I've just met you,

I know you, Dexter.

Better even than I knew Harry.

Why did he come to you...

about me?

I was an expert witness
on a series of homicides

that he was working on,
and we became friends.

[Sighs] It's a long way

from being friends
to "I think my son might be

a serial killer."

Harry was aware of my work
on young psychopaths.

And he also knew that
I didn't approach the subject

in terms of black and white,

unlike my colleagues
of the time.

And so he just told you
everything.

You have to understand that
he had no one else to talk to.

Not Doris.
Certainly no one in the force.

And there never was any judgment
on my part.

Unlike you towards me.

I'm not judging you.

But you don't trust me.

Which you should have expected.

Since you know me so well.

You nervous?

About breaking and entering?
Absolutely.

Prison would put a real crimp
in my business model.

See, we're not breaking.

We're just entering.

You really had sex
with this guy?

Shit.

What?
What is it?

If--if I hadn't stayed
to try to get the jewelry,

if I just brought him in,
he'd still be alive.

Don't beat yourself up
about it.

After all, it's a criminal
we're talking about, right?

He was actually all right
to hang out with.

He made me forget about my
shitty life for five minutes.

And what exactly is so shitty
about your life?

Other than working for you?

Excuse me.

You left Miami Metro to come
and work for me.

Wise career choice,
I might add.

If you actually accepted
more cases,

you may get paid
what you're worth.

I left Miami Metro

because I was burned out.

Oh, right.

Look, I know
that's a party line.

Everybody knows Maria LaGuerta
was a pain in the ass.

I completely understand
if you wanted to dip

- your toes in the private--
- What the fuck are you

even talking about?

LaGuerta was a good cop.
She was a good fucking person.

All right, well, note to self:

Never talk about anyone
Debra Morgan knows.

Understood.
Got it.

Why don't you just be
really grateful

that I work for you?

Because I'm about to make you
a fuck-ton of money.

It's an unopened bill
from a storage facility.

Why didn't FLPD find this?

Because it just arrived today.

Found a match for our key.

Okay. Buster's Self Storage.

- Let's go.
- I can't.

I've got a new client meeting
at the office.

All right.
Then I'll go alone.

Okay.
Can you hang on?

Just--hey.

Hey.

Hey.

Just do me a favor, all right?

Just be careful.

If I fuck up,
you can always ply me

with that electro-shite
solution.

I'm running the prints
from the plastic bag

through A.F.I.S.
right now.

Any hits?

Not yet, but if the killer's

on the list you gave me,
there's a pretty good chance

he's already in the system.

It shouldn't take long.

Why don't I remember you?

According to you, I was ten

when you started seeing Harry.

I should remember you.

You never met me in person.

- Harry forbid it.
- Why?

He didn't want you to feel
like you were--

like you were sick.
He was trying to protect you.

And I respected his wishes,
even after he died.

I could have used someone
to talk to after Harry was gone,

someone who knew
what I was going through.

You wanted to talk about it?

I was young,
and I was all alone.

[Computer beeping]

Here it is.

- Lyle Sussman?
- Sussman?

He wasn't on the list
I gave you.

I don't know anyone
with that name.

Well, that doesn't mean
he doesn't know you.

You're a published author.

But why would he
be targeting me?

Maybe he has an issue
with something you said

in one of your books.

Arrested for drunk
and disorderly in 1992.

Single.
Has a house on Messina.

Doesn't make sense.

Well, Sussman's print's
on the murder weapon.

Forensics don't lie.

Mm, look on the bright side.

Maybe this means you did
a better job with your patients

than you thought.

[Knock at door]

Oh.
Two great minds at work here.

Am I interrupting?

No.
What's up, Vince?

Oh, well, guess who found
a bloody fingerprint

on the duct tape that was
covering the victim's mouth.

You?

And guess
who it might belong to.

The victim?

Our killer.

It's a partial,
so it could take some time.

How about you?
Anything on the murder weapon?

Partial.

Well, okay.
I guess the race is on.

[Chuckles]

Shit.

[Keys jangle]

Why was it strange
that I needed someone to talk to

when Harry died?

People like you don't usually
seek an emotional connection.

Good luck.

It all looks innocent.

Just like my apartment.

Nah.

Either Sussman lost his green
thumb or he hasn't been here

in a while.

Could he be hiding out
at his next kill site?

[Sighs]

A hunting cabin?

Isolated.

The perfect place for a kill.

Lake Nona.
It's a large lake,

but at least
it's a starting place.

[Car approaching]

Well, fuck.

You found my jewelry.

Really made my life easier.

Thank you for that.

[Both grunting]

What the hell's your problem?

Bitch.
Fucking nuts.

Yeah, I'm fucking nuts.

Stay down.

[Groans]

[Sobs]

You're lucky I don't kill
people unless I'm paid to.

[Speaks Spanish]

I hope Sussman does
a better job of keeping in touch

with his mother
than I do with mine.

Question: Any reason
why you haven't taken

the sergeant's exam?

Uh, just haven't gotten around
to it.

- Why?
- Matthews is riding my ass,

keeps pushing people on me--
Sanchez, Whitney.

I'd rather have you.

I didn't know you cared.

You better start taking
your career more seriously, bro.

Especially if you gonna be
dating my sister.

How'd you know?

Because I'm a good detective.

Why'd you try
to hide it from me?

I thought your head
would explode.

Just get your act together.

If you want me to be okay
with you and Jamie, earn it.

Man up.

Take the test.

[Knocks at door]

Do you have any idea

where your son might be,
Mrs. Sussman?

It's very important
that we speak with him.

I haven't seen him for days.

Is that normal?

Well, it's not out
of the ordinary.

He's probably off hunting
for the weekend.

So he likes to hunt?

Oh, he practically lives
for it.

He always brings back something

for the quilt.

Isn't this something?

It sure is.

Ahh.

Where does he go
on these hunting trips?

He has a cabin somewhere
outside the city.

Do you know the address?

No. Sorry.

That's all I know.

What did you say
this was about?

We just want to ask him
a few questions.

That's all, Mrs. Sussman.

Well, I wish I could help you,

but I don't know
what else to tell you.

Oh, you need some more.

Excuse me.

Can we go?

That fucking quilt
is freaking me out.

It's like a nightmare in fur.

[Cell phones buzz]

It's dispatch.

Damn.

Lake Nona will have to wait.

Hopefully not for long.

What's the word, Vince?

Borborygmus.

The sound of gas rumbling
through your intestines.

As in seriously regretting
having that super-green

passion fruit smoothie
right about now.

Gunshot to the head.

I call and raise you
one to the chest.

One in the dash
and one in the headrest.

Either the killer was panicky

or he really needs some time
at the gun range.

Car's registered
to a Javier Guzman.

You think that's him?

Based on Guzman's rap sheet,
be my guess.

Small-time enforcing,
murder.

Went by the street name
of El Sapo.

El Sapo was the hit man
sent to kill Briggs.

If he's been killed...

is Deb in danger?

Dexter Morgan.

Dexter Morgan.
Want to get with the program?

Dex?

How do you think
this went down, Morgan?

Uh, yeah, sorry.

Driver pulls to a stop,

the assailant
approaches the car,

most likely gun already drawn,

the vic sees the shooter,
pulls his weapon,

clears the holster,
but it's too late,

the gunman opens fire.

I got a second gun
in the glove.

Bag it and tag it.

El Sapo's blood is confined
to the inside of his car.

This can't be his.

The killer might have been
reaching into the car

and cut himself.

Dex.

El Sapo. Deb was involved
with these guys.

If someone's taking 'em out...

I know.
I'm on it.

I don't understand, Dexter.

You think you know
where Sussman's cabin is,

but you're not going after him.

I have to do something first.

What's more important
than stopping this killer?

My sister.

- Debra's in trouble?
- Yes.

Ah, that's what's been eating
at you.

I'm coming up on her house.
I have to hang up.

[Both hang up]

Jesus, Deb.

The fuck are you doing here?

- Deb.
- I don't want you around.

I thought I made that
really fucking clear.

El Sapo is dead.

El Sapo?

The man who was sent
to take out Briggs.

I know who the fuck that is.

Well, someone shot him
in his car.

It looked like an execution.

Do you know anything
about this?

All I know is what my head
feels like right now.

I tried calling.

I was worried about you.

That's touching.

I'm fine.

Fine isn't the first word
that comes to mind.

And anybody could have walked
in here.

The door wouldn't close,
so I had to get creative.

- [Groans]
- What happened?

Deb, what happened
to your side?

El Sapo followed me
to the storage unit...

where Briggs kept his stash,
you know.

We tussled, he got the stuff,

end of story.

Except it's not the end
of the story.

El Sapo's dead.

Better fucking ending.
He deserved it.

And if whoever killed El Sapo
comes after you?

Nobody's coming
after me, Dexter.

How do you know that?

Will you not do this, please?

What?

Give a shit.

Deb, I'm your brother.
You can hate me if you want,

but it doesn't change the fact
that I care about you.

I didn't want to hate you.

I wanted the opposite.

But it didn't work out that way.

I can't change the way I feel.

Will you--
will you go, please?

I'm not leaving you.

Jesus fucking Christ, Dexter,

get the fuck out.

Go.

Deb doesn't want my help,

and Vogel is demanding it.

This is it.
Sussman's cabin.

At least I'm staying
ahead of Miami Metro.

Sussman's no stranger
to blood and death.

Vogel is wrong. Everything
points to him as the killer.

[Creaking]

Except this.

Maybe Sussman had an accomplice

who decided to take him out.

A killer like Sussman
doesn't use an accomplice.

They're rogues.

He could be the exception.

Yeah, or just the innocent
victim like the first two.

Sussman's fingerprints
were on the murder weapon.

He must have been involved.

Sit down, Dexter.

You're getting agitated.

I'm just trying
to figure this out.

You have a hard time
admitting that you're wrong,

but it's all right.

People like you
have an inherent need

to be right,

to feel superior.

You keep talking about me

like I'm some kind
of alternate species.

Like I'm less than human.

On the contrary.

Have you read any of my books?

I haven't gotten around to it.

Well, if you had, you'd know
that I believe

that psychopaths
are not a mistake of nature.

They're a gift.

A gift?

They're Alpha wolves,

who helped the human race
survive long enough

to become civilized.

An indispensable demographic.

You believe that?

Did you know that psychopathic
traits can be found

in the most successful CEOs?

In the most effective
politicians?

Without psychopaths,

mankind wouldn't exist today.

Well, there's a lot of mankind
that doesn't exist

because of them.

Every silver lining...

[Scoffs]

Well, one of your
indispensable demographics

is still out there killing.

And we're back to zero.

You'll find him, Dexter.

I have faith in you.

So what's going on with Debra?

That's between me and her.

It's affecting you.

So it makes it a problem
for me too.

We're not going
to talk about Deb.

Whatever you want.

[Footsteps]

Should I come back later?

Sorry.

I was just checking to see
if Dexter called.

He was looking in on Deb.

Deb?

- Yeah.
- Wow.

We're a whole ten seconds
into the date.

Here I thought we were gonna
make it to one minute

before you mentioned
your old fiancee.

What are you talking about?

Joey, you're always
checking in on her

or talking about her.

I mean,
since we've been together,

you're, like, on Deb patrol.

No, I'm not.

Okay.
We'll do an experiment.

Let's see if you can go
one whole day

without mentioning Debra Morgan.

What is it with you people?

- I mean--
- What people?

I got your brother on my ass

about taking
the sergeant's test.

You're on my ass about Deb.

I mean, like, what is this,
a fucking Cuban thing?

What does Angel have
to do with this?

He knows we're seeing
each other,

and now he's on my ass about
making something out of my life.

"Man up.
Take the sergeant's test."

You know what, it's like,

maybe I don't want to make
something out of my life.

Wait, how does Angel know

that we're seeing each other?

And what is so wrong
about trying to better yourself?

See?
That's what I'm talking about.

You know what?
Screw this.

Okay? I did not get dressed up
to argue with you.

Go drink by yourself.

Ja--

[Groans]

[Door slams]

Why the hell can't you stay
out of my personal life?

What'd I do?

Angel, you know
exactly what you did.

Okay, you're putting pressure
on Quinn.

We just had a giant argument
because of you.

Now wait a second.

You know what,
I hope you're happy.

[Both speaking Spanish]

It's, like, mind your own
fucking business, Angel.

If this finds El Sapo's killer,

it'll keep Deb safe.

It's Deb's blood.

She killed El Sapo.

Shot him in his car.

Deb.

Deb.

What is she doing here?

Morgan.

Sir.

I never got a chance
to tell you how disappointed

I was that you left the force.

From running Homicide
to chasing down bail jumpers.

A hell of a career trajectory.

It's not what you think.

I hope it was worth it.

Debra Morgan?

As I live and breathe.

[Giggles]

If I were to cop
a feel right now,

it wouldn't be
sexual harassment anymore.

[Giggles]

- Hey, stranger.
- Hey.

What brings you around?

Um, Quinn had some questions
about a case, so...

Is this about El Sapo?

Well, he's probably grabbing
some coffee.

Every morning when I come in,

I walk past it,
I have to turn around.

'Cause I still think of it
as Deb's office.

Nah, you probably should have
gotten it first, you know.

I never really belonged there.

You know that's B.S.

This place ain't the same
without you.

We're having some drinks
at Papa's tonight.

You should come.

Yeah, I'll try to make it.

Hey.

Thanks for coming in.

Come on.

I, uh...

I would have used
the briefing room,

but it's taken.
I mean, this is fine,

though, right?

Otherwise fucking everybody'd
still be hugging you.

Do you want to maybe go
to the coffee truck?

No, let's just--
let's do this.

Okay.

El Sapo and Briggs.

What do you want to know?

Basically, we've hit a wall.

I was hoping you could open up
some leads for us.

What can you tell me?

Um, I was doing a skip-trace
on Briggs.

He robbed a jewelry store
and made off with, like,

a $1/2 million in merchandise.

I got a tip
that he was in Fort Lauderdale.

And I was staking him out
and overheard

that he was gonna fence
the stuff to El Sapo.

Isn't a skip-trace one of
those locate-and-bring-'em-back

type of things?

Yeah, I was also trying
to get a fix on the goods.

What happened
the night Briggs was killed?

Um...

he was supposed to meet El Sapo
that same night.

I thought they were gonna be
a few hours,

so I went to get a sandwich,
and when I came back,

FLPD was on the scene, and...

Briggs had a fucking hole
in his chest.

Is she lying to protect me
or to protect herself?

I can't tell anymore.

Look, I was just wondering

if you could take a look
at what we've got,

maybe we could put
our heads together,

push this thing down the field,
you know.

Like old times.

So what we think is

the shooter approached
the vehicle

from behind...

and then El Sapo drew his gun.

[Gunshot]

And then the shooter...
[Gunshots]

[Gasping]

[Gunshot]

Hey, are you all right?

Sorry.
Family emergency.

I got to borrow my sister.

Sure.

Thanks.

What, Dexter?

I know you killed El Sapo.

I found your blood
at the crime scene.

Fuck.

Tell me what happened.

Talk to me, Deb.

I don't know what happened,
all right?

I'm a little fucking fuzzy
on it.

I was angry.
I wanted the jewels back.

And the next thing I know
I'm standing over a dead body.

You shot at him four times.
You don't remember any of it?

He'd just beaten
the shit out of me.

I was a little fucked up.

Why didn't you call the police?

I didn't know
what I could tell them.

You could have called me.

You're the one that gets me
into trouble, not out of it.

Is that why you lied to me?

All of a sudden we have
a problem with lying?

We found a gun
in El Sapo's glove box.

Is it yours?

Shit, it might be, yeah.

He took it off of me
before he beat me up.

It'll be traced to you.
How will you explain that?

You could switch it out.

Get rid of it.

What if I weren't here
to cover your ass?

You really want to play
the "what if" game?

What if you weren't
a serial killer?

What if Harry had left you in
that fucking shipping container?

- That's enough.
- You know what, El Sapo's

not the first person
I fucking shot, Dexter.

And he may not be
the fucking last.

What's that supposed to mean?

Anything can happen
in this hellhole

that is now my life.

Your gift to me, Dexter.

She's right.

Whoever Deb was
before killing LaGuerta,

that person is dead.

I just wish I knew
what's taken her place.

Busy day?

Crazy busy.

Then maybe they haven't tested
Deb's gun yet.

[Door buzzes]

I've covered evidence
for myself

more times than I can remember.

But I'll never get used
to doing this for Deb.

[Spanish music playing]

♪

You and Jamie patch things up?

How did you know
we were fighting?

- Because I'm a good--
- Detective, right.

Yeah.
The sergeant's test?

Yeah?

I'm gonna start studying
for it.

Okay.

You gonna make
an okay sergeant.

If not, I'll demote your ass.

Dr. Vogel says that
psychopaths are not a mistake

of nature, they're a gift.

But what kind of gift destroys
everything it cares about?

[Cell phone rings]

Hello?

Dexter. I think there's
someone inside my house.

How do you know?

Well, I just walked up,
and the front door is open.

Get in your car and stay there.

If someone was inside when I
called, he's still in there.

I haven't seen anyone leave.

Wait here.

Thank you, Dexter.

Are you sure
there's no one inside?

I checked the entire house.
I'm sure.

That DVD, it's not mine.

Put it in.

He was coerced.

[Gasps]

And now he's dead.

I was wrong all along.

You were right.

Sussman was never a real killer.

He's just another victim.

I should have listened to you.

You were only doing
what you thought was right.

We had no idea that--

You should have no idea.
You've never done this before.

Me, it's what I do.

The one thing
I've always been good at.

Vetting, stalking,
and killing people.

I can't even do that anymore.

What you're feeling now,

it's not because of the killer.

I've...

destroyed Deb.

She's gone.

You were wrong about me.

I'm a mistake.

You're exactly
what you need to be, Dexter.

You're perfect.

[Sighs]