All language subtitles for Dexter.Resurrection.S01E10.720p.WEB.h264-DiRT

Previously on Dexter...

- Why?
- The gala this weekend.

Your left jacket sleeve

is slightly shorter
than your right.

Son of a bitch.

Buddy of mine's hiring
cater-waiters.

What part of the city's it in?

That Leon Prater guy's mansion.

You fucking stay away
from my son.

Whoa. Of course.

Room service.

Charley came by work today.

She's fucking with your son.

It's probably time
I pay Charley an unexpected

visit of her own.

She's taking care of her mother.

D-Did you kill my mom?

That's not who I am.
Leave my son alone.

Yeah, I need to speak

with, uh, Mr. Leon Prater.

I'm curious
how you know this guy.

- You mean Mr. Schmidt?
- No.

He's Dexter Morgan.

I worked with him
for over 20 years

in Miami Metro Homicide.

I thought, with
everything going on here today,

we should meet in my vault.

Dexter Morgan.

Stay cool. Stay very cool.

I know exactly who you are.

I love it!

I have extensive files on
serial slayers across the globe.

And what's the plan for Angel?

That is the price
of your admission.

So much for cooperation.

Dexter Morgan... fuck you.

That was unbelievable.

I think you mean "stupid."

Pretty fucking stupid.

I killed him.

You killed a cop.

I've put up with these
psychopaths for years.

I don't even mind
getting rid of them for you,

but what happened in there,

that I did not sign up for.

I know.
Things got really out of hand.

Are you not listening?
You killed a cop,

right as every police officer
in the city

is coming here for your gala.

I'll take care of the gala,

just like everything in there
will take care of itself.

Are you just gonna
leave him in there?

What do you want me to do?
Let him out?

Introduce him
to the police commissioner?

Invite him to dance?

Okay. Point taken.

Ah.

Remember the rule of threes.

Three minutes without oxygen.
Three days without water.

Three weeks without food.

He's good on oxygen.

So, three days, then.

We can live with that, right?
Even if he can't.

I'm needed downstairs.

You stay here.
No one gets near that vault.

There's a first aid kit
in the credenza.

Tend to that wound.
I need you at your best.

Shit.

That gun killed Angel.
Can't get my prints on it.

There has to be another way out.

This was not on my list
of ways to die.

Bet that wasn't
on Batista's, either.

Rest in peace, Angel.

You were a good cop...

and an even better man.

Oops. You did it again.

That's what happens when you try
to be someone you're not.

I told Angel to go home.

Batista couldn't go home.

He spent 20 years thinking
you were his best friend,

and then another ten
mourning your death,

only to find out
you're a murderous psychopath,

and you never actually
felt anything for him.

Then why does his death
hurt so much?

Because you're still listening
to your fake dad

instead of your actual brother,
your blood.

I offered you a life

with someone
who actually understands you,

and you killed me.

And then,
you got a second chance

with Prater's little club,

and you fucked that one up, too.
And for what?

For people like Batista?

Your so-called friend,

whose dying words were,
by the way, "Fuck you."

I'm glad I killed you
when I had the chance.

Three days, huh?

Good luck.

If I had the Bay Harbor Butcher

locked in a room
full of weapons,

I wouldn't open that door
for a month.

So, unless you want to start

carving up some Batista sashimi,

you're gonna die in here.

And your shriveled,
emaciated corpse

will be Prater's
greatest trophy yet.

I am not dying in here!

Shit. Only one way
to unlock this phone.

I'm so sorry, brother.

Hey, Angel. Um...

I got a call from
some detective in New York.

What the fuck are you doing
up there? Come home.

I'm worried about you,
and, look,

the real reason why
I'm calling... I can't handle

another day with Masuka.
He's driving me fucking nuts.

I miss them,

but there's only one person
I can call.

You said you were coming here

to protect your son.

Now you want to bring him
into the lion's den?

I promised to keep
Harrison safe.

I can't do that
if I die in here.

So this is all about
being a good father?

Not because
you're afraid to die?

Both things can be true.

- Mm.
- Mm.

I should probably check that.

Who the hell is Batista?

Some fucking guy
that won't leave me alone,

as-as you can see.

Hey, asshole.

Harrison can't talk right now.

His mouth is full... of me.

Oh, okay.

Your dad wants to talk to you.

Hey, Dad.

What's up?

I hate to do this,
but I need your help.

Why are you calling
from Batista's phone?

- Prater knows who I am.
- Dad, stop.

Why are you calling
from Batista's phone?

The last time you called me
from a cop's phone...

Yeah, Logan. I know.
Harrison, listen to me.

Prater killed Batista.

And I'm next.

Fuck.

What can I do?

Shit.

Yo, Harrison. What's good?

Yo. I was just wondering
if that offer

was still good to work the gala?

Hey, my man wants
some loot after all.

Yeah, I was just
picking up some supplies.

I'll text you the address.

Great.

What's this?

Prater's files
on all his serial slayers.

Maybe the code to the vault
is in here somewhere.

You think Prater left
a Post-it note

labeled "secret vault code"?

I can figure it out.
It's an eight-digit number.

You only get one chance.

And if anyone were to
put in the wrong code

just once...

Wait, Charlotte?

Charley Brown.

No wonder she's always
so pissed off.

Prater likes
to keep tabs on his employees.

Prater likes
to keep tabs on everyone.

Can you imagine the irony of you

going down
as the Dark Passenger?

Yes. Gonna have to
destroy these.

If you ever make it out of here.

He had to have written
something down somewhere.

Cooper Morris.

That's the guy Prater told you
about. Killed his parents.

And others.

What if Prater didn't write
the combination down

because it's a number
he'd never forget.

Today's date.

Prater hosts his gala
on the anniversary

of his parents' death.

The night Cooper Morris
killed Prater's parents

was the defining moment for him.

It's a pretty significant
eight-digit number,

- don't you think?
- That alarm goes off,

a hundred cops rush upstairs.
Better be sure.

Sure? I'm betting my life on it.

What about Harrison's life?

Attention, servers.

Behind those curtains
are the most powerful people

in New York City.

I want to see wine glasses full
at all times.

I want to see
dishes cleared ASAP.

I need you all available.
You understand me?

And use your eyes,
ears and mouths.

- I'm in.
- Great.

Can you get me a better view?

Okay, guys, let's
go. What are we waiting on?

- Move it. Move it.
- Yes, ma'am.

Got to get to work.

Okay.

All right, where am I going?

The penthouse is above
the east wing of the mansion.

Got it.

Allow me. Wow. You...

That's a really good color
on you.

Your sleeves are still uneven.

Now where am I headed?

Uh, all I see is champagne.

Fuck.

Okay, should I take
those stairs?

No. Those don't lead
to the penthouse.

There. What's that door?

Uh, the service kitchen?

Head there. Keep an eye out
for Prater and Charley.

They'll know something's up
if they see you.

I work with rich people
all the time.

They never notice the help.

Excuse me.

Leon, I saw the silent auction
has a charter on your yacht.

Just brought her up
from St. Bart's. Mr. Mayor.

At, uh, Chelsea Piers, right?

- How are you liking that?
- Oh, boy.

I can tell you
some stuff about that.

Uh, we're thinking of switching.

Fuck.

Well, we got that over with.

Let's not get cocky.

Past that freezer on the left.
Is that a staircase?

Fuck.

Harrison, get out of there.

Where do you think you're going?

Uh, a-actually,
I was looking for you.

Uh, one of our waiters
is really stoned.

Uh, I'm afraid
he might be a liability

out there on the floor.

Point him out to me.

He's right... there.

Thanks for the heads-up.

Well played, son.

Yeah, remind me
to make it up to Lance.

What a turnout.

Welcome, everyone, to
my favorite night of the year.

The Tenth Annual Gala
for New York's Finest.

Yeah!

The penthouse is five floors up.

Do those stairs go up that high?

Uh... yeah.

This is five.

Uh, that goes to the roof.

Uh, I think I'm here.

It's-it's locked.

Do you have anything
to pick it with?

Can you pick the lock
like I showed you at Iron Lake?

It's not,
it's not quite catching.

Harrison Morgan.

You're going through
a lot of trouble

for a man you barely know.

Have a seat.

Dad, what do I do?

Give the phone to Charley.

My dad wants to talk to you.

Ah, Charley Brown.

So good to see you.

We need you to open the vault.

As fun as that sounds,

I think I'll leave
the Bay Harbor Butcher

safely locked away.

Yeah,

I kind of figured
you'd say that.

What's this?

Just a little something
I found in your boss's

secret file cabinet.

Time-stamped right before
Mia's tragic suicide.

There's a whole file on you...

paper trails, phone logs,
surveillance photos.

Looks like Prater's been
documenting your dirty work

for a very long time.

That motherfucker.

The thing is, Charley,

there's quite a few cops
downstairs.

You'd be surprised
how many of them

keep their AirDrop wide-open.

It would only take me a second.

And if you go to prison,
who would take care of your mom?

So here's the deal,
I destroy everything,

including the copies I took
on Batista's phone.

All you have to do

is let Harrison go
and open the vault.

You'll never see
or hear from us again.

You let my mom live.

So, here's what's gonna happen,

I let your son go,

and then I walk away.

You die in there.

Release those files any sooner,

and, well, you know how good
I am at finding people.

A month from now,
a year from now,

two years from now,
I kill your son,

after I torture him.

As long as you have it,
take a look at my file.

You'll see what I'm capable of.

Now, if you'll excuse me,

I have some unfinished business
with my former employer.

If you were smart,
you'd walk away, too.

There's nothing good in there.

Harrison, are you still there?

Dad, I'm here.

I'm losing battery on this.

Uh, switch to just audio.

I'm pretty sure
I have the code to the vault.

It's through the wine room.

There's a keypad on the wall
by the door.

But we only get one shot.

If I'm wrong,
the alarm goes off.

And if that happens, you need
to get the hell out of here

before a hundred cops
rush up the stairs.

No pressure.

Harrison,
you don't have to do this.

You can leave right now.
I would understand.

Just give me the code, Dad.

Zero.

Three.

Two. Six.

One. Nine.

Eight.

- W-Wait. Stop.
- What?

That might not be the
right code. Can you start over?

Are you sure?

'Cause you second-guessing
yourself is not really

inspiring confidence.

Delete everything. Start over.

You ready?

Yeah.

Eight. Two. Six.

Six. One. Nine. Three. Four.

Did you get all that?

Okay.

Shit.

Dad?

Dad?

Fuck.

Dad! Do you want me to...

You did great.

- What the fuck is this place?
- Listen.

Wait right here.

I'm gonna grab a few things.
Don't let that door close.

Son. You should quit
while you're ahead.

I want them.

You need to deal
with Prater first.

I will, but right above a gala
crawling with cops

is not the time.
I need to be in control.

These are mine.

Thanks for the bag, Sal.

Let's go.

Tell me we're
getting out of here.

- What's wrong?
- Shit.

Dad?

I forgot something in the vault.

- What-what is it?
- A fake thumbprint.

Adding that to the list
of things you're gonna

explain to me later.

That thumbprint
is my only way out,

but you can go back down
the way you came.

Through the gala? Are you nuts?

It's like you said,
"No one notices the help."

No. I mean, I'm not leaving you.

Right now, Charley could be
telling Prater you're up here.

I'm not having you wait around
to see what he'll do.

- I need to know you're safe.
- What about you?

I'll be okay.

Harrison.

If something happens,
I just want you to know

I'm really glad
you didn't kill me.

Me, too.

L.P.!

- Hey. Hey. Yeah.
- Great party.

Listen, when can I get you
for a photo with my officers?

- Viv?
- I'll add it to the schedule.

Okay. Just can you hold on
one moment? I'll be right back.

- Let's go to my office.
- Here's good.

What's going on?
You shouldn't even be down here.

You're talking like
I still work for you.

I quit. I'm done protecting you.

- You're not going anywhere.
- Why not?

Because you have a file
with compromising photos of me?

It wasn't enough for you to
hold my mother's health hostage?

You needed to own me.

How do you know about that file?

Where's that fucking thumbprint?

I'm going to disappear.

You're going to keep paying
for my mother's medical care,

and all of our secrets
stay secret.

Or... we can go scorched earth.

Up to you.

Goodbye, Leon.

Uh...

All right, let's take
this party up a notch.

Is everybody having a good time?

Okay. Uh-oh.

Sounds like somebody
needs to open

a few more bottles over there.

But, let's remember,
this gala is not about,

you know, champagne and caviar.
It is about raising money.

...to care for
the brave officers

who have been wounded
in the line of duty.

That is why, tonight,
I'm going to match

any and all contributions
made by 9:00 p.m.

Starting with

my first contribution
of $1 million dollars.

I guess that makes it
$2 million dollars.

Ah!

Yes.

So, I... I don't
want to hog the spotlight

all night long,
so let's give a warm welcome

to my coconspirator
in this evening's shenanigans,

NYPD Commissioner
Franklin McNamara.

Come on, Franklin.

So... Uh...

I, um...

I-I-I couldn't be prouder
of the department...

- Mr. Prater.
- Show me

all the cameras
on the north ballroom exit,

inside and out.

Shut down all the cameras.

- Sir, are you sure you want...
- Do it.

Give me your gun.
Give me your gun.

Hello, Harrison Morgan.

Mm. Please, head back down
the stairs, now.

Thank you.

Prater has a lot
of expensive toys,

but I'll never be one of them.

I'm almost out. Where are you?

Why don't
you come back upstairs?

Trust me,

you don't want to miss
this after-party.

Where's my son?

Alive.

Where... is... my son?

Tell your father where you are.

W-We're in his wine room.

Harrison?

Bye, Dad.

Things would be
a lot easier if I didn't care.

Is this the cost
of loving someone?

Get that fucker.

So glad you could join us.

We both have compromising info
on each other.

Release my son,
you'll never see me again.

You don't have to do this.

Actually, mm, I do.

I've always admired
people like you,

but today, I finally got a taste

of what it's like to be you,
and it felt exhilarating.

So thank you
for giving me the, uh,

what did you call that? The...

the itch? The need?
The... the great yearning?

The urge.

The urge. Yes, the urge.
That's it.

That's it. I finally have that.

My heart is racing
just talking about it.

Maybe this was
my destiny all along.

But I never would've known
if you hadn't pushed me.

That is why I'm so honored

that you are here to witness

my first proper,

non-impulsive kill.

Love does have a cost.

And this is the ultimate price.

If this is your big
show-and-tell...

...you can do better.

Kill me instead.

You will be the apex predator,

the best of the best,

the man who took out
the Bay Harbor Butcher.

Kill me

and leave Harrison to live
with the consequences,

just like the man who killed
your parents did to you.

Yeah, but unlike Cooper Morris,
I can't leave a witness. Mm.

I'm sorry I couldn't give you
the protection that you needed.

If you're spending the night
there, you might want some...

protection.

That better be the last time
you tell someone

to shoot you in the chest.

What are we gonna do with him?

There's no "we."
You're leaving, now.

Claudette's still
in the ballroom.

If she sees either one of us,
finds Batista, not a good look.

Here.

Use this.

Take the elevator down
and go through the garage.

How are you gonna get out?

I'll thumb a ride.

Yeah.

Help!

What's wrong?
I thought you loved it in here.

Please, don't hurt me.
Please, please.

Oh, God. Oh, God.

Don't be scared.

It's like you told me,
"Death is a natural,

necessary part of life."

I'll give you anything you want.

A life of luxury.

I'm good.

What about your son? Mm.

Don't you want Harrison
to go to a good college?

I'll give you enough money

to send his grandchildren
to college.

Never utter my son's name again!

Okay. Okay. Oh, God.

None of this would've happened

if you'd just killed that cop
when you were supposed to.

Yeah, sorry to disappoint.
I try not to kill good people.

A serial killer
with a conscience?

A Code.

Given to me by my father.

He understood my childhood
fated me to be like this.

Just like your childhood
fated you

to be like you are.

But my father
had a thing for justice.

He taught me
to kill only bad people.

So, I was intrigued
when I found Red's invitation.

Your dinner

offered a buffet of killers
to feed my urges.

But then I got here.

Being around like-minded people.

Oh, it was intoxicating.

That's-that's-that's what
I always wanted.

- I know.
- A place

for people like you,
where they can belong.

We all want to belong.

Yeah, I got to hear
Al and Lowell

and Mia

and Gareth speak
so freely, openly...

gleefully

about their kills.

And it was a fucking revelation.

I knew that you would enjoy it.
I knew.

But...

...then I realized all their
victims were innocent people.

Not so like-minded after all.

You made a compelling offer.

Chance to give my son
generational wealth

over generational trauma.

But...

I learned something
about myself here.

That thing for justice?

Maybe it runs in the family.

Uh... It's not about
the thrill of the kill?

Both things can be true.

Okay. Big smiles from everyone.

She means you. Look happy.

It is my preference to not smile
for no apparent reason.

How much longer
do I have to be up here?

We still have to pose
with Prater. Any minute now.

Where is he? I do not see him.

Mayor Thompson. Would you do us

the honor of announcing
tonight's fundraising total?

Oh, I thought Leon
was gonna do it.

- Uh, still no sign of him?
- I am going home.

Please, everyone
needs to remain on the stage.

We're about to make
the big announcement.

You don't want to miss that.

Uh, hello, everyone.
Uh, please turn your attention

to the clock.

It's almost time
for our grand total.

In five.

Four.

Three. Two. One.

And that brings our grand total,

with Leon Prater's
generous match,

to $22.8 million dollars.

Leon, where are you?

Prater!

Prater! Prater! Prater! Prater!

You hear that?

Enjoy it now

because, after you disappear,

you'll just be remembered
as a cop killer

with a serial killer fetish.

Ah! No.

I'm not going
in the blood slide box?

Nope.

You're not.

Oh, God. Oh, God. Yes.

I knew you'd see it my way.

Nobody can turn down
that kind of money. No.

Oh. No.

I am going to kill you.

But-but you...

I keep trophies to remember,

and I don't want
to remember you.

Now, I am leaving.
My time is valuable,

and I would like
to use it to sleep.

- Let me walk you out.
- There is no need.

I can hail a cab by myself.

Thank you.

What's happening?

Will you be joining me,

or do you prefer to merely
stand there and watch?

Goodbye.

For real this time.

Looks like that private
charter might be up for grabs.

Time for the world to see
the real Leon Prater.

That's coming
from the penthouse.

Somebody turn off
that fucking alarm.

What the hell is this place?

We got to call this in.

No one to call, kid.
We're all here.

Got a body over here.

And a gun.

Jesus.

Being back on a boat

is a resurrection of sorts,

but it's different this time.

Harry taught me the Code
to keep me from getting caught,

to control my urges.

Still no sign of Prater?

No, but guess whose prints
were on that gun.

Wait.

It belonged to Captain Batista.

Claudette.

Check this out.

Look at this.

But my urges are evolving.

When I came back from the dead,

I thought I was fated
to a solitary existence.

What's going on?

We're leaving
this cesspool of a city.

- What? Where are we going?
- Home.

Home?

We're going back to Amherst.

I bought the house
you brought me up in.

What about your job?
Your-your students?

We have a lot to talk about.

But maybe
I'm not built for solitude.

I need people like Blessing
and his family.

As Al said, even people
like me need to belong.

Harry always pushed me
to lean on Deb,

but she's gone.

I miss her.

But now, I have Harrison.

He can lean on me.

And when my darker urges
start to swell...

I can lean on him,

to become more human,

more connected.

To remind me why I do what I do.

I used to wish that
I could be different, normal.

A life without
my Dark Passenger.

But who am I kidding?

This is who I am, what I am.

I'm Dexter Morgan.

I'm exactly who I need to be,

exactly who you want me to be.