Falling Water (2016–…): Season 1, Episode 3 - Monsters, Most Familiar - full transcript
Previously on "Falling Water"...
That's you, isn't it? You look happy.
Ma'am, you need to call 911!
Send the police!
12 people laid down in a
house and killed themselves.
We know they blew up the house,
but they made no calls for violence.
These guys don't even
have a known ethos,
unless you count the word "Topeka."
Have you ever been hospitalized
for mental illness?
- No.
- We know about
- your time at Cranwell.
- Then why ask the question?
Can't have a relationship that
only exists in your dreams.
Do you think Jones is insider trading?
The answer is, I have no idea.
It's always Topeka.
Why do we create monsters?
Zombies and vampires
and things that go bump in the night?
Perhaps because the real
monsters are too close.
Too familiar.
Too real.
This one amazes me.
The ability to make something
so simple and contradictory.
The bodies look, uh...
Out of control?
Like they're falling through the air.
Hm.
Flying, not falling.
Come on.
Let's fly.
Look here.
Elongated movement.
The way the couple's stretched out.
This is a dream.
You're gonna ruin it.
I remember...
this place.
We've been here.
We are here.
I didn't just dream you.
You're real.
Look at the picture.
I didn't invent you.
- Of course not.
- Then who are you?
Are you dreaming too?
Are we dreaming together?
Look at the picture.
Can you see it now?
What are you doing?
You can still see it, can't you?
Imagine you're the man in the picture,
falling, flying.
Put your arms out.
Now let yourself feel it.
The air, the updraft.
Lifting you, carrying you.
Up into the sky.
I thought you were gonna
snooze the whole flight.
Sleep's a luxury.
Grab it where you can.
With who you can.
Did you know Woody when he
and Jones were at Deutsche?
Nicholas brought them in as a package.
I think there was a Wharton connection.
God, I don't know how much more
of this research I can take.
Rare earth metals.
Can't make cell phones without them.
Mining them's an environmental disaster,
but who cares when there's
money to be made?
And the big mines are all in Mongolia.
Thank you.
You're cynical when you travel.
- Mm... it's the dislocation...
- Thanks.
Turns me into a free-love hippie.
Our Belgian client has concerns
about the hotel in Montreal.
He's always concerned.
Yeah, he's congenitally paranoid.
But he's also unloading
his nine-figure holdings
and we get a piece for
finding him a buyer.
What are the concerns?
The cleaning staff.
He doesn't want anyone from the hotel
entering the suite once
negotiations begin.
Mm-hmm, I'll make a note.
And have you taken care of the clocks?
All clocks, phones, and
miscellaneous small appliances
will be removed prior to negotiations.
And no flowers.
He has allergies now?
No living things.
Flowers, children, animals,
they make him uncomfortable.
Also, at no point can he be
left alone with the buyer.
He'll void the entire deal.
So we... we need to
tag-team on that, okay?
Okay.
Rare earth metals?
Nine-figure deposits in Mongolia.
Thanks for coming with me.
Hey, what could be more fun?
An excursion in the country
with my favorite client,
the opportunity to meet your mother.
Am I really your favorite?
How could you not be?
I know I'm overdue on the
bottled water thing.
But you haven't gotten the feeling.
I can't just randomly pick a design.
Yeah, that's why I
brought the prototypes.
Hey, you'll spend time with them
in a place you feel comfortable.
What if the feeling still won't come?
We are not returning the retainer.
Oh. My daughter's.
Her therapist has her use it
when she's scared to tell me something.
"Oh, I could have used one
of these with my mother."
Yeah, who couldn't?
My mother's particular.
A therapist.
Kind with acolytes and seminars.
Oh.
Big, white hot center
of her own universe.
"She catalogued my entire
childhood as research.
There are boxes in the barn."
Oh.
"Oh, there are 137 boxes."
Oh...
She's probably around back.
Oh.
Look who's here!
Hey, Mom.
Come here.
This is Miranda.
- Hello. Charlotte.
- Hey.
You should have told me you were coming.
I've already got six for
dinner, and you know
what a squeeze it is to get
eight around that table.
We'll eat in the kitchen.
Pish-tosh. Put your stuff in your room.
I'll tell Paolo to
double the puttanesca.
Paolo's a stray poet I've taken in.
Part of my menagerie.
His writing's rather poor
but his pasta's to die for.
I've got Maude Greenwald
staying the week.
The young Beatties are due at 7:00.
With Sabine arriving for
dinner, we're a full house.
Tell me, are you and Tess lovers?
I'm her agent.
I don't need details,
I just want to know
how many beds to make out.
Do you have to?
Oh, she brings home all kinds.
Men, women, usually
figures of authority.
I learned years ago to put
them in the same room,
avoid the nocturnal traffic.
It's so lovely to have you here.
I can't break confidentiality.
Alice is my patient, and
I'm not discussing Alice.
Alice is an outpatient?
All of the members of my
group are outpatients.
Cult deprogramming group,
according to the orderlies.
Cult survivors.
You know, I found
12 dead people in a house.
I saw the news.
When I found them,
they were all wearing the
same green sneakers as Alice.
Help me.
Hey...
If you don't want to
tell me about Alice,
tell me about a girl like Alice.
And why does a girl
like Alice join a cult?
Cults are like families.
Lots of girls or people
really grow up with imperfect
familial connections,
which make them vulnerable
to the substitute families
that cults offer.
When a cult member dies,
they leave their
possessions to the cult.
They want the cult to
dispose of their bodies.
Their desire to make themselves whole
leads them into a trap
that they can't get out of
and is oftentimes much worse.
Will that suffice for the NYPD?
Yeah, it might.
Turn off the lights.
Don't touch the Post-its.
Rory, it's Tak.
Yeah, I need you to
check something for me.
Call the Nassau County Coroner.
I want to find out if the
12 bodies from the house
have been sent to a funeral home.
_
The Belgian's getting happy feet.
How much longer?
We're done.
Gentlemen, this way, please.
I thought you abandoned me.
Don't worry, my
mother'll leave you alone
until cocktail hour.
So this is what 137 boxes looks like?
179. Those 42 are my sister.
She must be envious.
Well, she was lucky.
My mother stopped cataloguing
her life when I turned ten.
After that, I had her full attention.
You see anything marked 2009?
Oh.
I like the bear.
You know, there are doll
girls and bear girls.
- I was a bear girl.
- Yeah, that one's Sabine's.
We used to hide our tooth
money in the back.
Lift the sweater.
We should find yours and cash out, huh?
It's up here somewhere.
I-I thought we could go
for a walk or something.
Get you in the mood to look
at the bottle designs.
Yeah, I'll look at them later.
You promise you'll pick one?
Jesus, I promise. Okay?
Tess.
Tess?
Tess! Yeah?
What are you looking for?
Records.
I need to find a date.
2009. There's a gap.
That's February. That's May.
There's a... there's a two-month gap.
What were you doing in that gap?
I was at Cranwell.
What's Cranwell?
An institution.
I had a breakdown.
I was... manic,
running around the city,
staying up for days.
I thought there was this glow
coming out of me.
My mother put me in Cranwell.
I lost my mind completely. I
was on all kinds of drugs.
Walls closing in.
Well, it happens to people
with talent like yours.
But you came out of it.
Not until my sister got me transferred.
To Saint John Bosco in the city.
She works there.
I need to go to Cranwell.
I need too pinpoint a date in that gap.
Can I... can I borrow your car?
I promise I'll look at the
prototypes when I get back.
It's fine.
You'll get to it.
Thanks.
He wants a nosh.
Just a question,
but who put the Belgian
together with White Sand?
The head of White Sand had
been talking to Jones
about getting into the market
for rare earth metals.
So when I came across the Belgian,
Jones and I put two and two together.
Why?
From the body language,
White Sand's robbing your Belgian blind.
If you saw the numbers on the table,
you'd think different.
If you're saying we don't
care, that's fine.
I just need to know
where our loyalty is.
Our loyalty is with the deal.
And to the client. Which client?
Yours or Jones's?
You're as paranoid as the Belgian.
Get me some information
on that guy over there.
This is your entire file.
I hope you forgive my handwriting.
I always felt badly we
couldn't do more for you.
Oh, doubly so because of my
professional connections
- with your mother.
- This is everything?
Well, you're not the first
patient to come back
wanting to understand
their own recovery.
Didn't recover here. I
recovered at Saint John B.
What's this?
Why is there a police report in my file?
The police found you.
Found me when?
When you absconded.
I don't know anything about that.
I guess you probably wouldn't.
Your delusions were at their peak.
You broke a window and you ran away.
No one ever told me.
Maybe your mother felt it was best.
She and your sister transferred
you right after that.
How long was I missing?
Three days.
They found you lost in the woods.
You were bleeding from
where you cut yourself.
I have to go.
You.
Come here.
Come back here.
Hey, NYPD. Stop!
Come here!
Mom?
So I've had dreams about cigars.
And once, the cigar
was actually a cigar.
But that doesn't mean Freud
wasn't full of shit.
Well, dreams are a window,
not a curtain, right?
May I have some more puttanesca, please?
I'm abandoning food for alcohol.
Jung was a beginning,
like Newton, like Darwin,
but a simplistic foundation upon
which we're still building.
I went to Cranwell today.
I spoke to Dr. Stafford.
Why?
Don't be confrontational.
Your sister has every right
to visit her doctor.
A doctor who made her worse.
We had an interesting conversation.
Things I didn't know.
- Tess...
- Stop.
This is your sister's moment.
He told me I went
missing for three days.
That I was found wandering in the woods.
That's right.
You never told me.
You were delusional.
The doctors at Sabine's hospital felt
reminding you would
be counterproductive.
I was convinced I was pregnant.
You showed me charts and
blood tests and sonograms
to convince me I imagined
the whole thing,
but you never bothered to tell me
I broke out of the hospital
and went missing for three days?
Yes, well, I can see now
that was a mistake,
judging by your reaction.
My own guilt over
sending you to Cranwell
skewed my behavior.
It's been seven years.
And you've been healthy for seven years.
Which is why I'm glad
you're strong enough
to confront me like this.
She's going down the rabbit hole.
I'm fine.
Then let the past go.
She can't.
She needs to.
- I was lied to!
- You were protected.
- From the truth?
- From yourself.
God... no, Mom... no.
Don't interrupt me.
I know that you think that it's
all healing, but it's not.
Tess, the world is not out to get you.
You are not being gaslighted.
But you need to find the strength
to accept what has happened and move on.
Right.
Have you finished silencing
me in my own house?
God damn it, Mom.
You are not your sister.
So don't expect her to
behave like you would.
She's strong. She is healing.
And I'm proud of her.
You know, uh, John's brother, Donald,
went through a similar crisis.
He spent a full year at Silver Hill...
You know what I like
about a business trip?
Free drinks on the firm?
The lack of obligation.
You're cut off, like a
little bubble of freedom.
Freedom to crack open the mini-bar
and eat $10 Toblerones.
Mm. Now who's the cynic?
There's something off about this deal.
It's not...
normal.
A Belgian is selling a Canadian
nine figures' worth of
Mongolian mineral rights.
Which part of that is normal?
I can't sleep lately.
Not well.
Things I think I know
turn out to be like
squeezing handfuls of sand
until they're gone.
It's like how years ago,
scientists used to think
that atoms were the ultimate particle.
But then beneath atoms,
we found protons.
And beneath protons, we found quarks.
And beneath quarks, we found strings.
Only strings aren't
even particles at all.
They're just vibrations of energy.
You think the world is so solid,
and then it melts.
Oh, good God, I'm drunk.
Wanna go upstairs?
Split a $10 Toblerone?
Diabetic.
Liar.
Is that for me?
It's for the Belgian ambassador.
They always say it's going to rain
when it's hot,
when the air gets thick,
and you want it to rain,
a deep, cleansing rain
that knocks the dirt out of the sky
and leaves everything clear,
but it never really does.
How many have you had?
How many have you had?
Let's have one more.
Let's go home.
Two more for the happy couple.
I thought we were leaving.
Can I get some pretzels?
I'm allergic to peanuts.
My throat swells up and I
foam like a rabid dog.
Let's go.
What are we doing here?
- Don't.
- Or what?
Forget it.
Who are you?
Let go.
Where do you go when you're not with me?
What lie do you want me to tell?
One double scoop cone, please.
This is Burton.
Step out of the way.
Who is he?
A friend.
You're gonna tell me, so don't
waste time not telling me.
He's the Belgian ambassador to the UN.
What's he doing in Montreal?
He was my silent partner.
You have to fix it.
Give me your phones.
Both of you.
We were having drinks.
And what else? Cocaine?
He brought it. We were celebrating.
Just the three of you?
No girls? No boys?
No.
Put your shoes on. Take
our client to his room.
Get him packed, get him to the airport.
Put him on the first
flight back to New York,
coach if you have to,
but out of Canadian air
space by 8:00 a.m.
- What are you gonna do?
- Call the police.
But... whoa, whoa.
But what? He's dead.
I can only manage the fallout.
You, when the police contact
you, you're gonna want to lie.
You're gonna want to make up a story.
I'm telling you, do everything
in your power to resist the urge.
You were doing drugs. He did too many.
You flew home because he was
your friend and you freaked out.
Is any part of that untrue?
No.
Take him.
Go.
- Move!
- Okay.
_
I'm not listed.
I'm a cop.
Yeah, I saw your patient.
She was out in the woods
with a bunch of those
green-sneaker people.
Thank you for telling me.
And she's still associating
with that cult.
That would be the inference.
Alice is not some gentle little girl.
I saw her, she...
Robbed a bank?
Killed a man?
I am trying to help you.
No, you're not.
Whatever you saw in the
woods unsettled you.
So you barge in here, inappropriately.
You are edgy and defensive,
and you're demanding answers
with the idea that it'll
fix things, but it won't.
These people, they
came out of the woods.
They poured out the ashes of my victims
and flung them into the air.
Your victims?
I found them.
You've found bodies before.
So what makes these 12 so special?
There's a layer beneath
what's going on here
I can't explain.
I am not a patient on your couch.
Well, you're certainly
behaving like one.
An emotionally-stunted
boy who can't stand
his own feelings of helplessness
because it reminds him
of the psychic trauma
inflicted on him by his
now catatonic mother.
Or at least that's what I
would write up in my notes.
You have no idea
what's going on with your patient.
Tell them it's called "Neige."
Snow.
You're a magician.
The client will be very happy.
And we don't have to
return the retainer.
All that worry for nothing.
I have to get back to the city.
Sure. Yeah.
Uh... I'll pack and come with you.
Yeah, if... if you want to stay longer,
I won't be offended.
This, your creation.
I knew this weekend would turn out.
I thought you'd like to know.
The Belgian ambassador died
in Montreal last night.
How'd you know where I live?
I saw you in the woods,
looking for your mother.
You're a good son.
No thanks.
I'm allergic to peanuts.
Throat swells up and I
foam like a rabid dog.
Do we create our own monsters?
Or do our monsters create us?
Perhaps they need us to
validate their own existence.
Or perhaps
their own monstrosity?
That's you, isn't it? You look happy.
Ma'am, you need to call 911!
Send the police!
12 people laid down in a
house and killed themselves.
We know they blew up the house,
but they made no calls for violence.
These guys don't even
have a known ethos,
unless you count the word "Topeka."
Have you ever been hospitalized
for mental illness?
- No.
- We know about
- your time at Cranwell.
- Then why ask the question?
Can't have a relationship that
only exists in your dreams.
Do you think Jones is insider trading?
The answer is, I have no idea.
It's always Topeka.
Why do we create monsters?
Zombies and vampires
and things that go bump in the night?
Perhaps because the real
monsters are too close.
Too familiar.
Too real.
This one amazes me.
The ability to make something
so simple and contradictory.
The bodies look, uh...
Out of control?
Like they're falling through the air.
Hm.
Flying, not falling.
Come on.
Let's fly.
Look here.
Elongated movement.
The way the couple's stretched out.
This is a dream.
You're gonna ruin it.
I remember...
this place.
We've been here.
We are here.
I didn't just dream you.
You're real.
Look at the picture.
I didn't invent you.
- Of course not.
- Then who are you?
Are you dreaming too?
Are we dreaming together?
Look at the picture.
Can you see it now?
What are you doing?
You can still see it, can't you?
Imagine you're the man in the picture,
falling, flying.
Put your arms out.
Now let yourself feel it.
The air, the updraft.
Lifting you, carrying you.
Up into the sky.
I thought you were gonna
snooze the whole flight.
Sleep's a luxury.
Grab it where you can.
With who you can.
Did you know Woody when he
and Jones were at Deutsche?
Nicholas brought them in as a package.
I think there was a Wharton connection.
God, I don't know how much more
of this research I can take.
Rare earth metals.
Can't make cell phones without them.
Mining them's an environmental disaster,
but who cares when there's
money to be made?
And the big mines are all in Mongolia.
Thank you.
You're cynical when you travel.
- Mm... it's the dislocation...
- Thanks.
Turns me into a free-love hippie.
Our Belgian client has concerns
about the hotel in Montreal.
He's always concerned.
Yeah, he's congenitally paranoid.
But he's also unloading
his nine-figure holdings
and we get a piece for
finding him a buyer.
What are the concerns?
The cleaning staff.
He doesn't want anyone from the hotel
entering the suite once
negotiations begin.
Mm-hmm, I'll make a note.
And have you taken care of the clocks?
All clocks, phones, and
miscellaneous small appliances
will be removed prior to negotiations.
And no flowers.
He has allergies now?
No living things.
Flowers, children, animals,
they make him uncomfortable.
Also, at no point can he be
left alone with the buyer.
He'll void the entire deal.
So we... we need to
tag-team on that, okay?
Okay.
Rare earth metals?
Nine-figure deposits in Mongolia.
Thanks for coming with me.
Hey, what could be more fun?
An excursion in the country
with my favorite client,
the opportunity to meet your mother.
Am I really your favorite?
How could you not be?
I know I'm overdue on the
bottled water thing.
But you haven't gotten the feeling.
I can't just randomly pick a design.
Yeah, that's why I
brought the prototypes.
Hey, you'll spend time with them
in a place you feel comfortable.
What if the feeling still won't come?
We are not returning the retainer.
Oh. My daughter's.
Her therapist has her use it
when she's scared to tell me something.
"Oh, I could have used one
of these with my mother."
Yeah, who couldn't?
My mother's particular.
A therapist.
Kind with acolytes and seminars.
Oh.
Big, white hot center
of her own universe.
"She catalogued my entire
childhood as research.
There are boxes in the barn."
Oh.
"Oh, there are 137 boxes."
Oh...
She's probably around back.
Oh.
Look who's here!
Hey, Mom.
Come here.
This is Miranda.
- Hello. Charlotte.
- Hey.
You should have told me you were coming.
I've already got six for
dinner, and you know
what a squeeze it is to get
eight around that table.
We'll eat in the kitchen.
Pish-tosh. Put your stuff in your room.
I'll tell Paolo to
double the puttanesca.
Paolo's a stray poet I've taken in.
Part of my menagerie.
His writing's rather poor
but his pasta's to die for.
I've got Maude Greenwald
staying the week.
The young Beatties are due at 7:00.
With Sabine arriving for
dinner, we're a full house.
Tell me, are you and Tess lovers?
I'm her agent.
I don't need details,
I just want to know
how many beds to make out.
Do you have to?
Oh, she brings home all kinds.
Men, women, usually
figures of authority.
I learned years ago to put
them in the same room,
avoid the nocturnal traffic.
It's so lovely to have you here.
I can't break confidentiality.
Alice is my patient, and
I'm not discussing Alice.
Alice is an outpatient?
All of the members of my
group are outpatients.
Cult deprogramming group,
according to the orderlies.
Cult survivors.
You know, I found
12 dead people in a house.
I saw the news.
When I found them,
they were all wearing the
same green sneakers as Alice.
Help me.
Hey...
If you don't want to
tell me about Alice,
tell me about a girl like Alice.
And why does a girl
like Alice join a cult?
Cults are like families.
Lots of girls or people
really grow up with imperfect
familial connections,
which make them vulnerable
to the substitute families
that cults offer.
When a cult member dies,
they leave their
possessions to the cult.
They want the cult to
dispose of their bodies.
Their desire to make themselves whole
leads them into a trap
that they can't get out of
and is oftentimes much worse.
Will that suffice for the NYPD?
Yeah, it might.
Turn off the lights.
Don't touch the Post-its.
Rory, it's Tak.
Yeah, I need you to
check something for me.
Call the Nassau County Coroner.
I want to find out if the
12 bodies from the house
have been sent to a funeral home.
_
The Belgian's getting happy feet.
How much longer?
We're done.
Gentlemen, this way, please.
I thought you abandoned me.
Don't worry, my
mother'll leave you alone
until cocktail hour.
So this is what 137 boxes looks like?
179. Those 42 are my sister.
She must be envious.
Well, she was lucky.
My mother stopped cataloguing
her life when I turned ten.
After that, I had her full attention.
You see anything marked 2009?
Oh.
I like the bear.
You know, there are doll
girls and bear girls.
- I was a bear girl.
- Yeah, that one's Sabine's.
We used to hide our tooth
money in the back.
Lift the sweater.
We should find yours and cash out, huh?
It's up here somewhere.
I-I thought we could go
for a walk or something.
Get you in the mood to look
at the bottle designs.
Yeah, I'll look at them later.
You promise you'll pick one?
Jesus, I promise. Okay?
Tess.
Tess?
Tess! Yeah?
What are you looking for?
Records.
I need to find a date.
2009. There's a gap.
That's February. That's May.
There's a... there's a two-month gap.
What were you doing in that gap?
I was at Cranwell.
What's Cranwell?
An institution.
I had a breakdown.
I was... manic,
running around the city,
staying up for days.
I thought there was this glow
coming out of me.
My mother put me in Cranwell.
I lost my mind completely. I
was on all kinds of drugs.
Walls closing in.
Well, it happens to people
with talent like yours.
But you came out of it.
Not until my sister got me transferred.
To Saint John Bosco in the city.
She works there.
I need to go to Cranwell.
I need too pinpoint a date in that gap.
Can I... can I borrow your car?
I promise I'll look at the
prototypes when I get back.
It's fine.
You'll get to it.
Thanks.
He wants a nosh.
Just a question,
but who put the Belgian
together with White Sand?
The head of White Sand had
been talking to Jones
about getting into the market
for rare earth metals.
So when I came across the Belgian,
Jones and I put two and two together.
Why?
From the body language,
White Sand's robbing your Belgian blind.
If you saw the numbers on the table,
you'd think different.
If you're saying we don't
care, that's fine.
I just need to know
where our loyalty is.
Our loyalty is with the deal.
And to the client. Which client?
Yours or Jones's?
You're as paranoid as the Belgian.
Get me some information
on that guy over there.
This is your entire file.
I hope you forgive my handwriting.
I always felt badly we
couldn't do more for you.
Oh, doubly so because of my
professional connections
- with your mother.
- This is everything?
Well, you're not the first
patient to come back
wanting to understand
their own recovery.
Didn't recover here. I
recovered at Saint John B.
What's this?
Why is there a police report in my file?
The police found you.
Found me when?
When you absconded.
I don't know anything about that.
I guess you probably wouldn't.
Your delusions were at their peak.
You broke a window and you ran away.
No one ever told me.
Maybe your mother felt it was best.
She and your sister transferred
you right after that.
How long was I missing?
Three days.
They found you lost in the woods.
You were bleeding from
where you cut yourself.
I have to go.
You.
Come here.
Come back here.
Hey, NYPD. Stop!
Come here!
Mom?
So I've had dreams about cigars.
And once, the cigar
was actually a cigar.
But that doesn't mean Freud
wasn't full of shit.
Well, dreams are a window,
not a curtain, right?
May I have some more puttanesca, please?
I'm abandoning food for alcohol.
Jung was a beginning,
like Newton, like Darwin,
but a simplistic foundation upon
which we're still building.
I went to Cranwell today.
I spoke to Dr. Stafford.
Why?
Don't be confrontational.
Your sister has every right
to visit her doctor.
A doctor who made her worse.
We had an interesting conversation.
Things I didn't know.
- Tess...
- Stop.
This is your sister's moment.
He told me I went
missing for three days.
That I was found wandering in the woods.
That's right.
You never told me.
You were delusional.
The doctors at Sabine's hospital felt
reminding you would
be counterproductive.
I was convinced I was pregnant.
You showed me charts and
blood tests and sonograms
to convince me I imagined
the whole thing,
but you never bothered to tell me
I broke out of the hospital
and went missing for three days?
Yes, well, I can see now
that was a mistake,
judging by your reaction.
My own guilt over
sending you to Cranwell
skewed my behavior.
It's been seven years.
And you've been healthy for seven years.
Which is why I'm glad
you're strong enough
to confront me like this.
She's going down the rabbit hole.
I'm fine.
Then let the past go.
She can't.
She needs to.
- I was lied to!
- You were protected.
- From the truth?
- From yourself.
God... no, Mom... no.
Don't interrupt me.
I know that you think that it's
all healing, but it's not.
Tess, the world is not out to get you.
You are not being gaslighted.
But you need to find the strength
to accept what has happened and move on.
Right.
Have you finished silencing
me in my own house?
God damn it, Mom.
You are not your sister.
So don't expect her to
behave like you would.
She's strong. She is healing.
And I'm proud of her.
You know, uh, John's brother, Donald,
went through a similar crisis.
He spent a full year at Silver Hill...
You know what I like
about a business trip?
Free drinks on the firm?
The lack of obligation.
You're cut off, like a
little bubble of freedom.
Freedom to crack open the mini-bar
and eat $10 Toblerones.
Mm. Now who's the cynic?
There's something off about this deal.
It's not...
normal.
A Belgian is selling a Canadian
nine figures' worth of
Mongolian mineral rights.
Which part of that is normal?
I can't sleep lately.
Not well.
Things I think I know
turn out to be like
squeezing handfuls of sand
until they're gone.
It's like how years ago,
scientists used to think
that atoms were the ultimate particle.
But then beneath atoms,
we found protons.
And beneath protons, we found quarks.
And beneath quarks, we found strings.
Only strings aren't
even particles at all.
They're just vibrations of energy.
You think the world is so solid,
and then it melts.
Oh, good God, I'm drunk.
Wanna go upstairs?
Split a $10 Toblerone?
Diabetic.
Liar.
Is that for me?
It's for the Belgian ambassador.
They always say it's going to rain
when it's hot,
when the air gets thick,
and you want it to rain,
a deep, cleansing rain
that knocks the dirt out of the sky
and leaves everything clear,
but it never really does.
How many have you had?
How many have you had?
Let's have one more.
Let's go home.
Two more for the happy couple.
I thought we were leaving.
Can I get some pretzels?
I'm allergic to peanuts.
My throat swells up and I
foam like a rabid dog.
Let's go.
What are we doing here?
- Don't.
- Or what?
Forget it.
Who are you?
Let go.
Where do you go when you're not with me?
What lie do you want me to tell?
One double scoop cone, please.
This is Burton.
Step out of the way.
Who is he?
A friend.
You're gonna tell me, so don't
waste time not telling me.
He's the Belgian ambassador to the UN.
What's he doing in Montreal?
He was my silent partner.
You have to fix it.
Give me your phones.
Both of you.
We were having drinks.
And what else? Cocaine?
He brought it. We were celebrating.
Just the three of you?
No girls? No boys?
No.
Put your shoes on. Take
our client to his room.
Get him packed, get him to the airport.
Put him on the first
flight back to New York,
coach if you have to,
but out of Canadian air
space by 8:00 a.m.
- What are you gonna do?
- Call the police.
But... whoa, whoa.
But what? He's dead.
I can only manage the fallout.
You, when the police contact
you, you're gonna want to lie.
You're gonna want to make up a story.
I'm telling you, do everything
in your power to resist the urge.
You were doing drugs. He did too many.
You flew home because he was
your friend and you freaked out.
Is any part of that untrue?
No.
Take him.
Go.
- Move!
- Okay.
_
I'm not listed.
I'm a cop.
Yeah, I saw your patient.
She was out in the woods
with a bunch of those
green-sneaker people.
Thank you for telling me.
And she's still associating
with that cult.
That would be the inference.
Alice is not some gentle little girl.
I saw her, she...
Robbed a bank?
Killed a man?
I am trying to help you.
No, you're not.
Whatever you saw in the
woods unsettled you.
So you barge in here, inappropriately.
You are edgy and defensive,
and you're demanding answers
with the idea that it'll
fix things, but it won't.
These people, they
came out of the woods.
They poured out the ashes of my victims
and flung them into the air.
Your victims?
I found them.
You've found bodies before.
So what makes these 12 so special?
There's a layer beneath
what's going on here
I can't explain.
I am not a patient on your couch.
Well, you're certainly
behaving like one.
An emotionally-stunted
boy who can't stand
his own feelings of helplessness
because it reminds him
of the psychic trauma
inflicted on him by his
now catatonic mother.
Or at least that's what I
would write up in my notes.
You have no idea
what's going on with your patient.
Tell them it's called "Neige."
Snow.
You're a magician.
The client will be very happy.
And we don't have to
return the retainer.
All that worry for nothing.
I have to get back to the city.
Sure. Yeah.
Uh... I'll pack and come with you.
Yeah, if... if you want to stay longer,
I won't be offended.
This, your creation.
I knew this weekend would turn out.
I thought you'd like to know.
The Belgian ambassador died
in Montreal last night.
How'd you know where I live?
I saw you in the woods,
looking for your mother.
You're a good son.
No thanks.
I'm allergic to peanuts.
Throat swells up and I
foam like a rabid dog.
Do we create our own monsters?
Or do our monsters create us?
Perhaps they need us to
validate their own existence.
Or perhaps
their own monstrosity?