Dexter: Original Sin

I've experienced death so many times.

But never my own.

[hospital machines beeping rapidly]

Talk to me.

We have penetrating thoracic trauma

by gunshot, catastrophic blood loss.

We're losing him. Defib on my count.

Three. Two. One. Clear.

No pulse. Recharging.

Three. Two. One. Clear.

- - We have a heartbeat.

A beating heart. I'll take it.

It really is like they say,

your life flashes before your eyes.

Oh, my God. Oh, my God.

- - All right, we're at

ten centimeters dilated. It's crowning.

- - Keep pushing.

- That's it. -

Keep pushing. You're doing great.

Big push. One last one.

Time of birth, 2300 hours, 21 minutes.

February 1, 1971.

Congratulations. It's a boy.

And in the beginning...

there was blood.

What're you gonna name your son, Miss Moser?

Dexter.

His name is Dexter.

Yeah.

Trying to cop a feel, freak?

I'm experiencing death.

You only get one first time.

Dude, what fucking planet you from?

That's enough.

Let Dexter focus.

Problem?

Yeah, no blood.

No problem.

Heartless. Like the Tin Man.

And maybe... like me.

Impeccable work as always, Dexter.

You're gonna make an excellent surgeon one day.

I've been preparing for today for such a long time, but...

I didn't feel... anything.

That's what makes you special.

That's what makes me me.

It's traditional to smile.

I wasn't smiling?

Just think of something that makes you happy.

- -

Motherfucker.

Ugh, goddamn it.

Sergeant Morgan.

Captain Spencer.

What the fuck? And who the fuck?

We're asking the same questions. Right now, it's all preliminary.

- Well, I am all ears. - Stop.

Until Forensics is done with our sweep,

you are all guests at my crime scene.

Even you, Captain. Bootie up.

Yes, ma'am.

All right. What do you got?

Looks like the intruder used a box cutter to gain entry

through the back screen porch.

Yeah, he shot the parents, point blank,

and the little girl in the back as she ran for the stairs.

Then pilfered everything in sight.

Cash, jewelry, cards.

You said "intruder," as in there was only one perp?

Based on the muddy footprints all over the place,

only one. Experienced, prepared.

Wore booties over shoes.

Ergo, no tread marks to trace.

You're giving me a whole lot of nothing here.

A family is dead. What do we have?

Hey, Officer Sanders, was the TV on when you arrived here?

Negative, Sergeant.

All right, so this poor family,

they're chowing down,

watching television...

The intruder turns it off.

I'm seeing blood on the "on/off" switch.

Masuka, when you're done

with the other 700 things going on here,

would you run this for prints?

It'll be number 701, Sergeant.

Could've at least killed the fucking cow first.

And you could at least not curse at the dinner table.

Sorry. It's just how it comes out.

So, uh, graduation's in a week. Anything fun happening?

I heard about some party at Delta Alpha something.

- Mm. - But I'm not going.

I'll represent. Show the world

there's at least one Morgan with a life.

You're going to a college party?

Dad, come on. We both know that you're gonna say no,

I'm gonna go anyway, and the world isn't gonna end,

so why don't we just skip the drama for once?

- I'm okay with you going. - Seriously?

One condition. You take your brother.

- What? - What?

You need to get out more,

spend time with people your own age.

Be a part of something.

Yes, he should do that, but far away from me.

- It's my one condition. - Unbelievable.

- Hey. - Fuck me.

So how'd it go yesterday?

Dr. Rivas said I did a good job.

Well, that's great, right?

I guess.

But...

it didn't give me the feeling I thought it would.

I know we hoped slicing into bodies would be enough.

But I-I'm still...

...hungry.

Just stick with the plan.

Four years of med school, then a residency.

We have plenty of time to figure all this out.

No, I don't know. I-I'm worried the plan

isn't going to satisfy my... urges.

It has to.

You guys have a good day.

All those shiny, happy people.

So excited to plan their lives.

And all I wanted to do was end one.

Are those real dead bodies?

- Kind of cool, right? - Ugh.

Name's Masuka, look me up if you ever get a speeding ticket.

Nice booth.

Uh, my father actually works for Miami Metro.

Harry Morgan. You know him?

Come on, baby, come to Daddy.

Want to see my nine-inch nail?

Really? Poser.

Hey, are number seven and number 12 the same killer?

What? No.

Can you move? You're cockblocking my booth.

Shoo.

This is starting to look like

a serial killer art project up in here.

And we are the parents

displaying it on our fucking fridge!

I'm not a proud mama, fellas.

I am one pissed-off, menopausal bitch.

We have three home invasion sites in three counties.

Eight dead, including two children.

I will not and I cannot wait for the next one to happen.

- Do you understand me? -