All language subtitles for YOU - 5x10 - Finale.WEB.NF.en

Previously on You…

We can only
aspire to be as quotable as Brontë.

Sources have identified
the victim as Guinevere Beck.

Why was her body found
buried in your backyard?

I was reading Beck's book.

I felt like maybe Beck
didn't write all of it herself.

We think this boyfriend, Joe, killed her.

We have to get that motherfucker.

I wish I killed Dr. Nicky.

Would her killer say something like that?

Don't let him fool you.

I'm yours. I will lift you up
and put you in the center of the universe.

Did you catfish me?

-Not fit to care for Henry.
-You'll never take my son from me!

I haven't left you. I promise.

-Dad!
-I'm gonna see you soon. I love you.

-Are you still catfishing me?
-No.

-Do you love me?
-Yes.

Who are you?

I'm fucking Bronte.

I have no choice. Kate has to die.

I don't think
he's happy to see us together.

I've spent my entire life
saving women like you.

You are not a white knight, Joe.

I just met Marienne Bellamy
and she's alive.

Listen to what people are telling you?

Don't forget what brought you here
in the first place.

Guinevere Beck.
You really think he didn't kill her?

I just got lost in him.

You missed a key.

Joe…

-Tell me why you framed Harrison.
-Open the door.

Burn in hell.

Maddie!

All your wives dying in fires.

Love didn't die in a fire. I poisoned her.

Thank you.

Nadia will get this to the police.

Marienne? Kate?

Bronte, you came to save me.

I should leave you, run away,
and never look back.

Bronte Louise Flannery, will you marry me?

But then there'd be no justice,
no answers.

I'm the only person that can stop you.

Yes, Joe.

You.

What did I do to deserve you?

Ghosts from my past wanted me
to believe I didn't deserve this.

But you knew they were wrong about me.

Oh, it's gorgeous, isn't it?

You know, maybe it's not so bad…
leaving New York behind.

There's so much beauty.

It could be… that easy.

But then the world would never know
the truth about you.

And I wouldn't get the answers I need.

How could I love you, knowing what I knew?

What did you do to Beck?

And the biggest question of all…

It's beautiful, isn't it?

…how do I give you the ending you deserve?

What's wrong?

Uh, hang on, GPS fritz.
I… I think I saw a map in the trunk.

Ink and paper,
saving lives since time immemorial.

Your plucky attitude is
a weak cover. Of course you're scared.

And I haven't even
told you the worst of it.

Hey.

I can handle the truth.

I don't think we were followed,
but, uh, it's only a matter of time.

Kate… tricked me. She sent
something damning in to the police.

How damning?

Something I'm gonna have
a hard time denying.

It made total sense in context,
but… the police will have questions.

Just doing their job. I'm not worried.

It will be a long, messy, legal quagmire.

We'll survive it,

but why not in the meantime
lay low while the noise dies down?

In Canada?

That's where we're headed, right?
Across the border?

Hey, I don't care where we go,

as long as I'm with you
and we're together.

Secluded.

In a mossy castle.
I know I'm asking a lot of you.

But if we have each other, we have hope.

Do you trust me?

I'm here, aren't I?

I only want you, Joe.

And I…

I have nothing but you.

If only that wasn't true.

You have become my whole life.

I gotta make a quick call,
in case we run out of service.

Okay, here. Can you just check this out?

But maybe that's how I survive this.

Hide my lies behind something deeper.

-Justicar!
-Hey, Will, it's me.

I know. Hey, buddy.

How's it going?

Starting to feel
like a favor dispenser here.

First, it was the fake boat accident
for that awful sister-in-law of yours.

Then you call off the fake boat accident.
Now it's passports.

I know. I'm a bad friend. I'm sorry.

I was just messing with ya.
Working on the passports now.

Gonna take a minute, though.

So just inch your way
closer to the border.

Okay. What, uh…
What about… the other thing?

Harder. Working on it.

How do you know Henry won't be monitored?

I don't, but it's a risk I have to take.
He's my son.

I get it. Give me time.

Thank you. Thank you, Will.

Hope when I need it the most.
Can't disappear until I can talk to Henry.

I have to tell him no matter
what he hears, I'm not abandoning him.

I'll be back.

Onward?

Onward.

Oh, for the ladies.

How cynical.

Then again,
I've never been more the target demo.

Oh, fucking shit.

There wasn't anything on the radio
about a manhunt,

but sometimes the press are a step behind.

They'd know my face.

Would they know yours?

Fuck.

Here you go.

Thanks.

Hey. Do you need help?

Do I?

This could all be over.

What do you mean? I'm fine.

But the second I point a finger, you run.

I don't get answers,
and no one will know what you really are.

I guess my eyes
are bigger than my arms.

Where you headed?

Glamping with the gals?

Yeah, glamping with the gals.

Well, be careful out there.
A lot of predators.

Bears.

Right. Got it, thanks.

No way.

Maybe I know
how to get the answers I need.

Are you okay?

Yeah, he didn't recognize me or anything.

You're shaking.

Oh… Adrenaline.

Careful, you're gonna get me addicted
to this Bonnie and Clyde shit.

You astonish me more every day.

What are you…

I thought we said essentials?

This is nature's perfect food.

Hey. Point of no return.

Drive, bitch.

Smells piney.

Spoiler, it's the trees. Okay.
Okay, you can open your eyes.

Oh, fuck.

It's ours. For just a few days.

There's no cameras or alarms
in the listing photos,

and you can see on the rental site
nobody's booked it.

So we're squatting?

We won't be here long.

Think of this as a preview of our castle.

It's cloistered. It's off-grid.

Just add moss.

Stay right there, I'll be right back.

Always lock your windows.

If you'd taken your own advice,
we never would have met.

It's beautiful.

I'll get our bags.

Shit. You felt that.

Wait, Joe.

Sorry. Just… Dorito breath.

It's perfect.

You're perfect.

-Well, I'll get your toothbrush then.
-Yeah.

Mm-hmm.

Of course he's going to want it.

A kiss almost gave me away.

Which means this ends tonight.

It's gonna be a bit. I got this.
You should… You should go write.

Okay.

Only a sociopath could write
under this much duress.

But good.

Gives me time to figure out
how exactly this is going to go.

Hopefully, without ending up
at the bottom of that lake.

Hey, Will.

Good news. I've got a guy with passports

who can meet you
in Chippewa Bay tomorrow night.

From there it's just a short jaunt
and a boat across the border.

I can't thank you enough.

Well, you did pay for my house.

Oh, about Henry.

I figured out
which server he plays his game on,

so whenever he next jumps on,
I can try to connect you two.

But, um, I can't promise anything.

I know it's a long shot,

but stress, trauma, he'll need a retreat.
Books, hopefully. Games.

Thank you, Will. Thank you.
Oh, the… The names on the passports.

As requested…Ezra and Ella.

You're the best. You're the best.

Ezra and Ella are immortal protagonists,
life-imitating fiction.

It's almost too neat.

What is this surge of superstition?

They're in my head.

All those women.

Gnawing at my optimism,
telling me there's no happily ever after.

But you've changed
your entire identity before, for me.

Why would I doubt
you'd be willing to do it again?

-Is it okay?
-Mm-hmm. Mmm.

You being a legitimately
good cook is so fucking grating.

Probably learned this
from your first dead wife.

How'd your writing go?

Well, the quiet is nice. Um…

What about your book?
Do you have a backup somewhere?

Hmm… Only one copy, typewritten,
swept in flames.

It's what I get for writing
in the most pretentious way possible.

It's all right, I'll…
I'll write it up again,

once I know we're safe.

Have you given any thought to how it ends?

-Ezra turns Ella into a vampire.
-Hmm.

They… They travel the world together.

Forever?

-That is the point of immortality, yes.
-Mm-hmm.

Unless that's bad.
Think that's bad? Tell me.

It's just…

Do you… Do you think
that's what your protagonist deserves?

What are you saying?

It's just usually
there's some kind of reckoning, right?

And you think that me losing my son,
my home, Mooney's, isn't enough?

-Mmm.
-Let's drop the pretense here.

Okay, no pretense.

Immortality isn't real, Joe.
So, uh, I'm worried about you.

I'm worried about me.

I have a plan.

Plans fall apart.

And dreams die, so…

Just be honest with me. Do I make it?

In your story?

Do you…

Bronte, of course. What…

Of course. The most important thing to me
is your happiness, your safety.

Yeah, no, I…

Forever is juvenile.

It is. It's a wish.

I am…

I am so sorry.

I'm asking so much of you.

If I seem scared,

it's because I am.

I am too.

You're taking such a chance on me.

I promised you the world,

but I need to remind you
all we need is us.

Can I… give you a taste
of our future tonight?

Please let me do that.

Out here, nothing exists but you.

Stand up.

-What?
-Trust me.

It's tippy.

I got it, I got it, I got it. Come on.

Where are you going?

Why am I up here?

So I can see you like this.

I told you
I'd put you at the center of the universe.

What is wrong with me
that I know who you are

and part of me can still feel this good?

But who doesn't love to be loved?

More than justice, more than reality,
love is just stronger.

And you weaponize it.

Is this how good Beck felt
before you killed her?

Because with you, love has a price.

This is where it was headed
the whole time. Peak romance.

Tell me you want this.

Follow me.

Hey.

What the fuck?

Tell me how you killed Guinevere Beck.

Tell me!

Just, please, put the gun down.
What are you doing?

What I should've done from the beginning.

Someone got in your head.

No, no, no, someone got you
out of my head. Get the fuck back, Joe.

Marienne?

Nadia?

And Kate?

Kate, who you tried to poison me against.
You tried to convince me she was crazy.

She tried to imprison and kill me,
in actual fact.

You are way too smart for me
to pull something like this over on you.

No, no, I'm not.

I'm not, and I'm fine with that
because I can finally see myself clearly.

Now, Joe, I need you to answer
the question that drew me to you. Okay?

I need the truth.

Some part of me knew you buying
my lie about Beck was too good to be true.

Guinevere Beck.

The one

I can't outrun.

I know you did it.
I know you killed her. But…

how did you do it?

You don't want to know.

Yes, I do! Fucking tell me.

You finished Beck's book
after you murdered her, right?

Yeah.

Yeah, I could spot your clumsy rewrites
before I even met you.

It wasn't enough that you took her life,
you had to take her fucking voice too?

You took what was hers. You made it yours.

Redact yourself,
take out every fucking word you added.

Then what?

Mission accomplished?

Is this really what you set out
to do three years ago? Stop.

Stop pretending this is about Beck.

Since the day we met, Joe,
you have… you have been erasing me.

Piece by piece, my intuition,
my compass, my self.

The least that I can do… is erase you.

-Do it!
-Okay.

I cobbled Beck's
manuscript together, but it was hers.

Sure, I added a little,
made it more cohesive.

It was an apology. An act of love.

Keep fucking going.

I'm not naive enough
to believe I'll convince you of that,

but you could have ended it already.

And you didn't.

The universe conspired
to bring us both here, alone.

Call me a fool,
but in the canon of epic romances,

bouncing back from a gunpoint confessional
is practically a genre staple.

"Didn't you want this?"

"To be loved?"

"Didn't you want him to crown you?"
It's Bluebeard's.

She wrote this one in the cage.

It's rough, but, uh,
she tapped into something. Resonated.

Yeah, so she has you to thank.

Do you have any idea
how fucking twisted you sound?

I didn't say that, but I think I know
why you're so afraid of that being true.

Well, I'm uninterested in what you think.

That's a lie.

If you've made up your mind about me,
why come all this way?

Why risk so much being here with me alone?

-You could have let me die in a fire.
-Will you stop talking?

Why don't you come gag me?

I think some part of you still needs me.

Before we met, you were lost.

That's something you share with Beck.

Actually, it's what you connected
to in her work.

It's a deep fear

of being nobody.

You were scared of me. I… I can see that.

But now I think
you're more scared of the absence of me,

because if I'm gone, then

no one will ever love you like I do.

Ever again.

You fixated on me

because you couldn't stand
being Louise Flannery any longer.

And so you tricked me
over and over and over.

And what did I do? I embraced you anyway.

All of you.

And I still do.

Stop.

Bronte.

I think I love you
more than you love yourself.

Hey!

It's Henry. It could… It could be my son.

Are you fucking kidding?

This is the only chance I have.
This isn't about me.

He's young. He's sensitive.
He's losing both of his parents right now.

Whatever happens to me next,

I need him to know that he didn't
do anything wrong. Please, please.

-Speaker.
-Thank you.

Hello?

Hey, Joe. Henry's online.

-Now a good time?
-Yes, yes, please, yes. Put him on.

Wait a few seconds
and then go ahead and talk.

Hello? Henry?

Henry, are you there?

Dad?

Hey. Hey, bub.

Hey, yeah.

It's me. How are you? Where are you?

I'm home with Uncle Teddy.

That's great. That's great.

I miss you… so much.

I wish I could
give you the biggest hug right now.

I, um… I just…
I want to say that I love you.

And I have to figure some things out.

And I… I had to go away
for a few days, so…

Can you hear me? Henry? Are you there?

What did you do to Mommy?

What?

What?

Nothing, bub.

That isn't what Uncle Teddy said.

Well, I'm sure Teddy's just confused.
What did he say?

Can you hear me, Henry?

Do you remember when you used to tell me
there were no monsters in my room?

Yeah. Yeah, of course.
Yeah, you were so scared.

You lied.

What are you saying?

It was you.

You're the monster.

Henry, are you there?

He always was precocious.

You know, his…

his mother said this would happen.
Her dying words.

"He'll know what you are."

I love him so much.

Maybe… Maybe he deserves…

…better than me.

Why? How? How did I become this person?

I try… I try to love,
every time it falls apart!

It's my son.

It's me.

I'm unlovable.

Is this what I deserve?

I don't know.

I don't know what you deserve, Joe.

Maybe it's not for me to decide, but this…

This is deluded.

You're not the fucking victim.

I'm calling the cops now.
This is over. This has to be over.

What makes you think
this time will be any different?

I killed your friend on camera
and here I am.

Yeah. Here you are, Joe.

Running. Scared.

You know how I know it'll be different?

Because I've turned on you, Joe.

And if I can wake up, so can the world.

I have been delusional.

Give me the phone.

Putting so much faith in love.

In the universe.

In… her.

Fucking Bronte.

No.

Fuck.

Okay.

Fuck. Come on. Come on.

No.

Fuck.

No, no, no, come on.

God!

911, what's your emergency?

When I fucked up your ankle,

it was just to keep you around long enough
so we could talk.

I didn't actually think
that it would help me kill you one day.

Oh, fuck, of course it was you.

It was always
gonna end this way, wasn't it?

No, no, it didn't have to!

But you're ungrateful! You're spiteful!

I made you special, Bronte,

and you're too selfish
to know how good you've had it!

There it is. There it is, Joe.

That's the real you.

You pathetic misogynist.

You want to know how I killed Beck?

I'll show you.

No.

The fuck?

Goodbye, Bronte.

That is confirmation on the vehicle.

I repeat,
we have confirmation on the vehicle.

One Adam Six. Copy that.

Give me a status on
the cell phone. Do we have closure?

One Adam Six.

Copy that. We have closure on cell phone.

The house is clear.
I repeat, the house is clear.

Yeah, push forward.

Yes, sir.

Tighten the perimeter slowly.
Tighten it up.

We need the search tight!

It's over, Joe.

Please, they're coming.

Kill me.

Oh, you would fucking love that,
wouldn't you? No way.

I deserve it.

You know you have it in you!

Please.

You're more like me
than you want to admit. Come on.

Come on. For all the lives I've taken,
and you,

you get to be
the one who kills me, Bronte.

This is how our story ends.

My name is Louise.

No, I'm done. I am done, Joe.

And I have been asking myself
over and over, "Why?"

And I finally… I see it clearly now.

The fantasy of a man like you

is how we cope
with the reality of a man like you.

-Kill me. Kill me, please.
-No.

Kill me! Kill me, please!

No, no, no, you are gonna
live the rest of your life alone.

Louise… Louise, I can't.

I know it's scary for you, isn't it?

A trial and a jury
and the crime scene photos.

The faces and the bodies of the sons
and daughters that you murdered.

They are all gonna see you, Joe,
and you are going to have to see yourself.

Shots fired! Shots fired!

In the end, Joe Goldberg
was made to see all of himself.

The trial was messy,

the evidence horrific,
and the truth undeniable.

Although I suspect
the real reason the public turned on him

is that I accidentally turned him
into a walking dick joke.

After his conviction
for the murders of Love Quinn

and Guinevere Beck,

allegations snowballed,
turned into more convictions.

One thing's clear,
Joe Goldberg will never be free again.

Benjamin "Benji" Ashby III,

first degree murder, life without parole.

Peach Salinger, first degree murder,
life without parole.

Don't forget Dr. Nicky,
conviction vacated.

We didn't do it alone.

Louise, Joe's survivors,
all the Internet detectives.

And we're not done.

Yeah, not to shock you,
but there are other Joes out there.

Tell me more.

When Joe was gone,
we all had to process his impact on us.

Nadia Fareedi returned to writing.

And teaching.

Uses her gifts to help other women
process their own trauma.

Charges against Harrison Jacobs

for the murder of his wife Reagan
were dropped.

That himbo was in jail for 48 hours

and somehow managed
to emerge with a prison tattoo.

Maddie Lockwood was tried
for both arson and her sister's murder.

Circumstances being what they were,
she didn't have to serve time.

She went to rehab for her pill addiction,

gave her sister a $2 million
Viking funeral in Long Island Sound.

And now she's expecting… twins.

After surviving what The Post lazily
and inaccurately called Bronte's Inferno,

Kate Lockwood was reborn.

She wears her scars like a badge.
Not pride.

Penance.

So what are we celebrating this time?

Well, as of about an hour ago,

the Lockwood Corporation
has become 100% nonprofit.

You fucker.

-Dad is rolling in his grave.
-Roll away.

I want to make a toast.

To Teddy.

For being exactly who you are.

-Cheers.
-Cheers.

Sometimes making the world a better place

means giving up your piece of it.

Kate left the C-suite in the rearview,
returning to her first love,

art,

championing the work of an artist
who holds a special place in her heart.

With Joe behind bars,
Marienne Bellamy stopped fearing exposure.

The world sees her talent, loves her.

Excuse me, are you laughing
at the way that I say scallywag?

-No.
-It does look like you're laughing.

Someday, Henry Goldberg
will ask someone to love him.

To trust that they're safe doing so.

Not because he's his father's blood.

He'll just have to decide
what kind of man he wants to be.

It didn't take long
to pull Joe's "contributions"

out of Beck's book.

And the newly redacted version
is more popular,

more praised,
more cutting, more imperfect.

More Beck.

But like so many others,
she still won't get the chance

to make what she wanted to make
of her life.

Joe stole that from them.

In their honor, we make the most of ours.

Joe was wrong about me.

My life doesn't boil down
to before and after him.

Every day that passes, he shrinks.

Eventually, he'll just be
some asshole I dated.

I still have no idea who I want to be.
But I can't wait to find out.

So… in the end,

my punishment is even worse
than I imagined.

The loneliness. Oh, my God.

The loneliness.

No hope of being held.

Knowing this is forever.

It's unfair.

Putting all of this on me.

Aren't we all just products
of our environment?

Hurt people hurt people.

I never stood a chance.

Goldberg.

Ah, yes.

Another fan.

Why am I in a cage
when these crazies write me

all the depraved things
they want me to do to them?

Maybe we have a problem as a society.

Maybe we should fix what's broken in us.

Maybe the problem isn't me.

Maybe…

it's you.