Dexter

Last season on Dexter...

The butchered bodies were submerged inside these garbage bags...

Did you hear that? 30 bags. Do you know what that means?

There might be a new mass murderer out there

- way worse than the Ice Truck Killer. - (Dexter) Uh-oh.

Eight confirmed victims of the Bay Harbor Butcher.

That's what the press is calling whoever dumped those bodies offshore.

Last thing Miami needs is another serial killer.

- (Doakes) Any idea who the FBI is sending? - Some guy named Lundy.

We have positive IDs on all 18 of our complete bodies.

All 13 were either tried for murder or at least suspected of murder.

Bay Harbor Butcher? Give me one shot, I'd put a bullet in the fucker's head.

You really feel that way?

If Dad taught us one thing, it's the value of human life.

Yeah, but I think we had different homework assignments.

Tell me the truth. Are you an addict?

Yes, I have an addiction.

- I'm Dexter. - (All) Hi, Dexter.

There's my sponsor.

So tell me, exactly how full of shit are you?

This woman sees me.

Somehow she's able to make me feel OK about what I am.

You're going to tell me all your deepest, darkest secrets.

Laura Moser, my mother, she was murdered.

I've never told anyone that before.

Did you find out what happened to the men responsible for your mother's murder?

Santos Jimenez. Turned state's evidence, went into witness protection.

- Where are you? - I've decided to look up

someone from my past.

1976!

You slaughtered her cause she stole cocaine.

She was a snitch for a cop. She was fucking him.

It seems my foster father and my biological mother were having an affair.

Did he blame himself for her death? Is that why he took me in?

Or was he just using her? Was he using me?

But there ain't no paper trail on the early years of Dexter Morgan.

Your past is a bigger mystery than fucking Jimmy Hoffa.

Back... off.

Ow! Fuck!

If Dexter files a complaint, you will be kicked off the force.

He's hiding something, Maria. I can feel it.

I need some blood slides analyzed.

I'm about to be found out at work for what I really am.

- You don't understand. - Why don't you make me?

- Who the fuck are you? - Oh, pardon my tits.

How could you do this to Rita, not to mention her kids?

You and Lila stayed in a hotel together.

It's over, Dexter.

I'm sure that you heard we have a suspect in the Bay Harbor Butcher case.

Sergeant James Doakes.

He had the slides.

Carefully hidden in the trunk of his car at the airport.

Jesus Christ, Morgan. You're the Bay Harbor Butcher.

You sure about that? You might want to check with Lundy.

What's it gonna be, Morgan? Kill me now or set me free!

Don't worry, I'll send the FBI your way soon enough.

So you're still gonna try to frame me?

Mission accomplished.

After tomorrow, I'll be out of reach. Permanently.

- You're going somewhere? - Goodbye, Lila.

Welcome. Previous destinations. Starting route guidance.

Hey! Who's out there? Anybody out there?

- Who put you in there? - His name is Dexter Morgan.

I found out that he's the Bay Harbor Butcher. Please, just open this gate!

- Poor thing, all alone. - I'm OK.

Not you. Dexter.

What the fuck are you doing? Turn that off! Do you understand this is murder?

- What were you thinking? Are you insane? - I was trying to bring us back together.

The Lila experiment is officially over.

Could have had it all, Dexter.

I've never put much weight into the idea of a higher power,

but if I didn't know better,

I'd have to believe that some force out there wants me to keep doing what I'm doing.

You wanted to be close to me, Lila? This is the most I have to offer.

You taught me to accept what I am.

Thank you.

The code is mine now and mine alone.

So too are the relationships I cultivate.

My father might not approve, but I'm no longer his disciple.

I'm a master now.

An idea transcended into life.

Ah, life.

Life is a ritual.

Routine.

- Control. - (High-pitched whirring)

And an essential part of that routine...

regular oral hygiene.

There we go. A few minutes, that'll numb right up.

So how was your summer, Dexter?

I went to the carnival.

I even won a prize.

Hope you stayed away from all the sweet stuff.

Usually I'm good, but sometimes I indulge.

I also made it a point to meet new people.

Can never have too many friends.

Now, this temporary crown is gonna go way in the back.

So there may be some blood.

- Not a problem. - OK.

- So you still have your boat? - Oh, you bet.

It's the only place I can really let everything go.

That's great. I'm gonna have you up and out on that water in no time.

For someone who needs to spend his life pretending to be normal,

I've been able to finally settle in...

- (Moaning) - to a nice, normal world.

And Rita is the scaffolding that holds that world in place.

What are you thinking?

Life is good.

Hmm.

Here you go, buddy. OK, Astor, you're up. Mickey Mouse, unicorns or starfish?

Just plain, round pancakes, Dexter.

She's growing up.

It starts with pancakes?

It starts when it starts.

Hey, Dexter?

Um, can you come to Dad Day at my school tomorrow?

Just tell me what to do.

There's Charlotte.

- Bye, Mom. See you, Dexter. - Bye, Mom.

- (Rita) Bye. - Get your bag.

You hear that?

Hear what?

The calm.

Everything's falling into place for the first time in my life.

I've got these terrific kids.

There's no more drama haunting me.

And I have this great, generous, gentle guy.

Most normal people enjoy a sacred pact with society -

live a good life and society will take care of you.

But if society drops the ball, then someone else has to pick up the slack.

That's where I come in.

Fred Bowman, AKA Freebo.

Kills two college girls and skates on a state police screw-up,

otherwise known as Florida's catch and release program.

He does the deed, gets away with murder and falls off the radar.

Everyone's radar but mine.

You got a birthday coming up, Dad.

What to get the man who had everything?

How about... Freebo?

- (Man) Morning, Dex. - (Dexter) Dexter the doughnut guy.

Part of my routine.

But let the record show I'm not the only one with a daily ritual.

Angel Batista - bear claw.

Vince Masuka - lemon custard.

Mmm, better than sex. (Chuckles)

Actually, no, it's not. (Chuckles)

Hey, I need a favor. Do you think you can proof an article I'm writing for FQ?

- Forensics Quarterly. - Right, yeah.

- They reached out cause I was the LFI... - Lead forensic investigator.

- On the BHB. - Bay Harbor Butcher.

- Hey. - Hey.

- No biggie. I've been published before. - (Debra) "DearPenthouse" doesn't count.

- Hey, that letter was famous. - Death by pastry. (Chuckles)

You changed your hair.

- Makes you look younger. - I don't wanna look younger.

Bad call, then. By the way, nice work on the Rinaldi case.

Yeah, well, murder-suicide. Pretty straightforward.

Well, still, I mean, your report was spot-on, right?

All right.

Quinn's been in Homicide two weeks and he noticed.

- Noticed what? - My hair.

I changed my hairstyle for the first time since I was eight.

Oh, yeah. It's short... er. Shorter.

- Quinn, he's showing off his detective skills. - You think he thinks I'm a potential lay?

That is not happening. As long as you're not noticing things, you've also not noticed

that I've given up men, liquor and smokes for the last 27 days.

This is you remembering Dad's birthday though, right?

Dad. Birthday. Right.

Blue room, 7:30, like always.

- I tried calling you last night. - I, uh, wasn't home.

I also tried your cellphone. You're wearing the same pants you had on yesterday.

That shirt's the backup you keep in your locker.

Ayúdeme aquí. I thought part of your restructuring our department

was you staying out of our personal lives.

Anything you want me to know?

Know this. I went out and had a great time last night, and you should be happy for me.

Besides, since when do you care?

Since this. Follow me.

OK, guys, listen up.

I just got word from upstairs that.

Angel will no longer be Detective Batista.

What?

In two days, he will be Detective Sergeant Batista.

Sorry for all the red tape and the hoops. Nobody deserves it more than you, Angel.

When this is really official...

when I can trade this in for that gold badge... drinks are on me.

Angel gets his wings. Know what this means?

Pay raise?

No, dildo, it means he's my supervisor

which means I'm a lock for my detective shield.

- Where are you going? - Research.

Dex. Typos, grammar, something could be clearer, whatever.

Haircut?

Yep.

Time to get the lay of the land on Freebo and his...

pink house.

What you need?

Freebo. I need Freebo.

- And you know him how? - He sells the best shit anywhere.

Come on, man, what, you Google him or something?

Know what? Fuck it.