All language subtitles for Dexter.S03E04.All.In.The.Family.720p.BluRay.x264-SiNNERS

Previously on Dexter...

I'm pregnant.

I just think I'm gonna be a lousy
father. I don't wanna screw the kid up.

You're gonna be a great father.

The Oscar Prado case?

Freebo killed
the senior ADA's brother.

Except he didn't kill Oscar. I did.

Dexter, I don't know if you officially got
to meet my other brother, Ramon.

So you're the guy
that Miguel is always talking about?

Oh.

- What do you have on Freebo, Maria?
- We're working on some new angles.

- Which means you've got shit.
- Excuse us.

Freebo's still out there killing.
We gotta catch him fast.

Holy shit, that's my Jane Doe.
Teegan Campbell.

I was just telling Miguel
how we weren't giving up on Freebo.

Now I have to call him and tell him
that he's probably right.

Freebo's probably long gone,
and he didn't kill Teegan.

Looks that way.

Yuki Amado, Internal Affairs.
Do you know a Joey Quinn?

Be really cool if you could get next to him.
You know, do a little recon.

Yuki, that's not gonna happen.

If you light that, I'll arrest you.

I told you not to fucking do it!

Why the fuck did you lock up my CI?

Why do you keep calling him your CI?
Is there something you're not telling us?

What happened
with the witness I gave you?

I thought he had information
that exonerated Chicky Hines.

I reviewed his statement.
It just didn't add up.

Anton, I feel not good
about what happened.

I feel not good too.

This is the shirt I was wearing
when Freebo met his end.

That's his blood right there.
This shirt implicates me in his death.

I trust you, and I want you to trust me.

Is it possible
I've actually made a friend,

someone I can trust
with my dark secrets?

Or am I being foolish for even
asking myself these questions?

Role playing.

It's such an important part
of growing up.

When we were kids,
whatever role Deb assigned me -

evil monster, treacherous Nazi,
horrible alien -

I played them to perfection.

- We should tell them.
- About the baby?

I don't want them
to hear it from somebody else.

OK.

Um... Kids.

Dexter and I have something
we want to talk to you about.

- What?
- We're having a baby.

Um...

You're gonna have a new little brother
or little sister to play with.

- Which one?
- Which one would you like?

- A puppy.
- You can have a puppy and a baby.

- But you're not even married.
- No, no, we're not.

- Why not?
- I... never really thought about it.

You know, I'm gonna grab the potato salad
so I don't forget.

Family man.
Husband and father.

Sounds so upstanding.

Harmless.

Much better than
lives-alone-keeps-to-himself.

Should we?
I mean, it's not the worst idea in the world.

- Should we what?
- Get married.

Dex.

Yeah, cool. You'd be my dad.

Look, this is not something
we're gonna decide today.

Go get your stuff together.
We don't wanna be late for the Prados.

Dex.

That was ridiculous.

The only roles I had trouble
with were good guys -

heroes, knights in shining armor.

It just never felt right.

Not now.

Please, Miguel, listen to me.

- Someone matching his description...
- You can handle this, Ramon.

OK, let me help you.

Oh, no need.
Paper plates go right into the garbage.

- And we'll be back with dessert.
- Thank you.

I'm going.

Please, I really want you to stay.

Hey, easy.

I mean it, Dexter,
what were you thinking?

Proposing to me like that?

Oh. Sorry.

With the baby and all,
it just made sense.

People don't get married
because it makes sense.

They don't?

Would you have asked me
to marry you if I wasn't pregnant?

I don't know.

I married Paul
because I was pregnant.

And I won't marry again
unless it's because someone loves me.

I understand why you feel that way.

Being a father and being a husband
are two very different things.

You don't have to be both.

I don't want both unless it's real.

Real. How do you show someone
real love

when you don't even know
what it feels like?

Don't leave, Ramon.

It's just another empty lead,
another worthless tip.

I'm gonna keep chasing them
until I find the one that leads to my...

Our brother's killer, OK?

Stay, Ramon. Come on, for your family.

How 'bout I go for my family?

Ramon, no.

- I have to go.
- No.

- Sara.
- I got him.

Ramon. Come here.

Everything all right?

He's obsessed.
He's drinking more than usual.

He's not going to stop looking for Oscar's
killer until it takes him all the way down.

Grief hits some harder than others.

You know, we could help Ramon find peace
if we told him Oscar's killer was dead.

If we told him, then he'd know.

Ramon and I have shared and have kept
each other's secrets all of our lives.

- It's not just your secret.
- Which is why I'm asking you.

Miguel, he seems unstable.

- He's troubled.
- He has a temper.

- He's my brother. I can help him.
- You're it!

You're it!

He needs to know that Freebo's dead.

It's a big burden. Not everybody
can handle a secret like that.

You're uncomfortable enough
with me knowing.

Trusting my brother is just...
it's too much right now.

- I get it.
- Actually, you do.

Don't worry about it.
Ramon, he'll calm down eventually.

Not a chance. This won't go away.

Miguel can't see what
a loose cannon his brother is.

He might need some perspective.

Uncle Miguel, Astor won't let me
play in the cabin.

Don't worry, buddy.
I'll talk to her.

Astor, Carlos wants
to play in the cabin now.

- So?
- So sharing is one of the rules.

Whose rule?
You're not my father.

Astor!

Apologize to Dexter.

Think she's reacting
to my botched proposal?

She's so concerned about us
not being married.

I don't think it's just the marriage.
It's the new baby.

She's afraid she's
not gonna be special any more.

Wow, you're good.

I know my daughter.

She just needs some attention,
some reassurance.

Astor!

Astor is auditioning various roles -

wounded child, sullen pre-teen,
oppressed youth -

finding out who she wants to play.

Dramatic exit stage left.

I can't force my way into Rita's life

any more than I can force Miguel
to trust me over his own brother.

I need to take a cue from Astor,

get their attention.

But first things first.

I do have a day job.

That's what real love looks like.

Well, real love plus loss.

Is that what Rita needs to see in me?
Could be a problem.

That the fiancée?

Not anymore.

That's Fiona Kemp.
She came to meet the vic for a movie.

She saw the assailant.
He knocked her over as he fled.

That's how she got the bum knee.

Her description fits the one we've got
in a series of break-ins.

Same MO too,
back door crowbarred open.

We could barely get her to let go of him.

Deb, your butt's buzzing.

Christ.

- Quinn here yet?
- Yeah, I just saw him pull up.

Jesus, you should have
beat me here driving this thing.

I got stuck on the causeway
behind a stalled car.

I know you earn more with a shield,
but come on.

Got a great lease is all.
What do we got?

Jack Rice, 34. His head's caved in.

Looks like a B and E gone sideways.
A bunch of priors in the area.

- Witnesses?
- Just one.

Jack took the day off
to see a matinee with me.

A romantic comedy.

He calls them chick flicks
but he knows they make me happy, so...

I'm sure he was a great guy.

But the man you saw fleeing,
he was about six-foot, you said?

And I met Jack at the coffee place
where I work.

When he came in, something inside of me
just recognized him,

even though we'd never met.

- Have you ever felt that way before?
- Too many times.

We can look at some mug shots. Maybe
describe the man you saw to a sketch artist.

What?
I- I'm staying with Jack.

Jack has to go to the morgue.

Forensics is gonna need her clothes.

Well, why don't you tell her?

You can't take that.
It's his favorite cap.

- Ma'am, the cap needs to come with me.
- Mm-mm.

Sorry, Fiona.
We'll give it back to you when we're done.

You won't.

Hey, look at me.

Come on, right here.

I'm telling you that I, Joseph Quinn,
will personally make sure

that hat comes back to you unharmed.

- He's good.
- Who knew?

Is there anything else
you want to keep of Jack's?

Maybe one of his shirts?

Come on.

He's like the fucking witness whisperer.

Maybe he should propose
to Rita for me.

Astor, that's so unfair.

You're my little girl, and you
always will be. You know that, right?

- Rita, you in there?
- Yeah, just one second.

Astor, I asked you a question.

Look, whether Dexter and I
get married is between him and me.

You and I have to work on being kinder
with each other. Can you help me with that?

Please?

Rita, we need you out here.

Look, I've gotta get back to work.

We're gonna talk
about this tonight, OK?

All right.

We need to switch rooms.

We were expecting to watch the sun set
from our honeymoon suite,

because, obviously,
we're on our honeymoon,

but we couldn't see anything.

Right, uh...

Well, the sun sets in the west

and Miami is on the east coast of Florida,
so there's really nothing we can...

The brochure said,
"Watch the sun set over the ocean. "

Didn't it, honey?

It may have said "sun rise".

- We want your best room.
- The honeymoon suite is our best room.

There's always a better room.

Look, I'm sorry. Perhaps I can offer you
a complimentary breakfast?

I want a higher floor,
a better view, and better lighting.

It was way too dark in there
with the curtains closed.

- How about a one-hour spa treatment?
- I want a better room.

All right, we don't have a better room

unless you build one, and being a bitch
isn't gonna change that.

Rita.

Excuse me. I'll be right with you.

- We can't have this conversation again.
- I know. I'm sorry.

This is the second time this week. Plus,
you're always on a break or calling in sick.

I don't know what's going on
but, honestly, it's always something.

And now I have to comp
the honeymoon suite.

I'm really sorry, but I just can't afford
to employ you anymore.

Now, how can we make this right?

Some people
are ticking time bombs.

Ramon is one of them
and Miguel needs to see him explode.

The inciter, that's a role
I've always been good at.

Pick-up for Morgan.

Ramon. Hey, how you doing?

Dexter.

Oh, that's right.
Miguel said you two came here.

It's your secret spot, right?

Not anymore.

Oh, don't worry.
I'll keep it between the three of us.

Jefe, another rum and coke.

Oh, and could I get
some extra pickles?

Hey, sorry about the way
Astor treated little Carlos yesterday.

Oh, right, you left.
It was a minor turf war.

Don't worry, I watched out for him.

Carlos is a tough kid.
He can hold his own.

Yeah, I'm sure.

Sure you want to be drinking that?

If I wasn't sure, I wouldn't drink it.

It's just...
You know, Miguel's worried about you.

No offence, Dexter,

but if Miguel has a problem with me,
he will tell me himself.

Right. I mean, he said he did.

But, yeah, he will again if he needs to.

What goes on between me and my brother
is between me and my brother.

Absolutely.

I just happened to be there
when Miguel needed someone to talk to.

Since I've been through it too.

My mother was killed when I was a kid.

I'm sorry.

So I know how it feels.

Ha.

- But it gets easier.
- Hmm.

Like Miguel said, when he accepted his loss
and found closure, he moved on.

Hey!

Nobody is accepting anything. OK?

And when your homicide department gets
off its ass and starts doing its fucking job,

maybe then me and my brother
will move on.

Extra pickles.

Thanks.

I must have misinterpreted what he said.

Yeah.

You did.

Well, enjoy your dinner.

And tell Carlos I said howdy.

I knew I'd find you still here.

No rest for the wicked.

What brings you to these parts?

Uh, I wanted to ask you
about Chicky Hines.

Again?

I got a witness who can provide
an alibi for Hines. It checks out.

- I told you I reviewed his statement.
- But you never talked to him.

Oh, come on, Maria.

Your witness is a habitual criminal
who's just trying to beat his latest drug rap.

Yeah, but that doesn't mean it isn't true.
And he can clear Hines.

Have you even met Chicky Hines?

I mean have... Have you read his jacket?
Because it's...

Hines didn't do this crime.

OK.

- What's this really about?
- An innocent man behind bars.

Maybe.

Maybe there's something else at play.

Accepting the truth about James Doakes,
that was hard for all of us.

Wow.

I wasn't expecting that.

I know.
Look, I shouldn't even mention it.

But, come on, he was your partner.

He's your friend.

Maybe you think he was railroaded,
I don't know.

And maybe that's coloring
how you're seeing Hines.

I'll admit it was hard.

But you know me, you know I'm a pro.

I also know you're human
like the rest of us.

�yeme, I'm just putting that
out there because we're friends.

The fiancée's working
with a sketch artist now.

So far it matches what the burglary division
already has on the break-ins,

so she's not giving us anything
we don't already have.

Yeah, except for more stories
about how perfect her dead fiancé was.

Hey, it's not easy realizing
you're alone in the world.

What's the blood splatter telling you?

Just...

- Just clarifying some discrepancies.
- Well, clarify fast.

I'm gonna wrap this thing up,
get you two guys back on the Skinner case.

Yeah, you're preaching
to the choir, sir.

- Morgan, your ass is...
- Thank you. I fucking noticed it.

Ta-da! Comp tickets to my keynote address
at the forensics conference.

Not really my thing.

- I'm flea-combing my dog that night.
- I'm seeing my little girl that night.

You don't even know the date.

I- I gotta keep my schedule open for her.

Et tu, Dex-tay?

Wouldn't miss it.

Masuka.
He's chosen the role of court jester.

Now we only like him
when he's making us laugh.

Still, there's something to be said
for being a character actor.

The lead players with all those emotions
must be exhausting.

Looks like the sketch that burglary already
has on the break-in suspect.

- You couldn't get any more out of her?
- Officer Morgan, the woman's a wreck.

So... he didn't have
any distinguishing marks,

any scars or tattoos?

Uh, maybe.

Um, I don't remember.

He ran right by you.

I was... I was surprised.

Let's take a deep breath.

Close your eyes.
Try to picture it again.

It's so horrible.

My Jack just lying there.
Why is this happening?

- OK, let's not picture it any more.
- Jack's never coming back.

Let's focus on something else
right now, OK?

We'll just focus on something else.

- Fiona.
- Hi.

- How are you holding up?
- I'm not helping at all.

Are you kidding?
You're doing great.

You're a champ.

I'm trying, but...

Why don't we take a break from all this
and go look at some pictures together, OK?

OK.

We'll be in Interview Three
with the mug books.

I'll set it up.

That's OK, I got it.

They say this part should pass soon.

They say I should glow.
Am I glowing?

You are to me.

I can't believe I called a guest a bitch.

Sounded like an accurate description.

I think I'm gonna talk to my boss
and ask for my job back.

Really? I always got the impression
you didn't particularly like that job.

It's a job.

No one's gonna hire me
knowing I have to go on maternity leave.

Plus I barely have any savings.

I'm pregnant.

No health insurance.

My insurance would cover you.

Rita, if we got married, we'd have
joint assets. You wouldn't have to worry.

Let's not forget about marital deductions.
With Astor and Cody as dependants...

- No, huh?
- Uh-uh.

That's one ugly guitar.

Ugly? Pssh.

A beat-up guitar like this speaks
to the experience of its owner.

The many hard roads
we've traveled together.

So you've had it a long time.

No, a couple of weeks.
Picked it up at a pawn shop for 20 bucks.

Gives me a certain mystique, doesn't it?

You are full of shit.

So what do you need, Officer?

A stiff drink after a shit day.

- And you came here?
- For the margaritas, trust me.

One margarita.

How well do you know Quinn?

He have something to do
with your day being shit?

Maybe.

I've heard stuff about him.

And he comes off really slick,
and then he turns around

and he's all sensitive
and caring about people.

What's his story,
is he a good guy or a bad guy?

Does it have to be either/or?

In my world? Yeah. But I can't figure out
which one he decided on.

All I know is, um,

Quinn helped me out of a jam
when I was in trouble.

The man gave me an opportunity,
and I took it.

OK.

Besides, without Quinn,
you would have no CI,

and I'd be drinking alone.

I doubt that.

Oh, you're a hungry man.

And you're a beautiful meal.

You, uh, you looking
for anything special tonight?

Your eyes.

They're soulful.

Well, the compliments are free,

but an hour of my time costs.

It might be more than an hour.

Take a pass, Sergeant.

Tonight, for a couple of hours anyway,
I'm not a...

Tonight, all night, I am.

Shit, this is a sting.

Just shut up and go with this.

You goddamn deadbeat! You come up
to my room, and you ain't got no cash!

Well, nobody sees Jazmin
that ain't got no cash.

You wasted my time, you motherfucker.

Wow, so she threw up?

Yep. Her answer apparently.

Not really the response you want to hear
to a marriage proposal.

Yeah, hence my call to you
and the bribe of a beer.

You've obviously had
one successful proposal.

Tell me your secret, o wise one.

OK.

Well, whatever you do,
don't suggest eloping

because a wedding conflicts
with a big case you've got coming up.

- You did that?
- It went over about as well as yours did.

I'm not the only hopeless one.

You and me, buddy,
making the women of America sick.

I did eventually figure out that women
tend to lead with their hearts.

So you might try leading with yours.

- Is that the only option?
- Only one that works, hermano.

Oh, speaking of hermanos,
I ran into Ramon last night.

I heard.

- Actually, I got an earful.
- Sorry.

I tried to reach out to him, make
a connection. I think I just upset him more.

It's OK. It led to a really good talk.

Talk?

Coño. I didn't tell him, Dexter.

I keep my promises.

But when and if you ever
feel comfortable telling him,

I'm just saying
I think Ramon is ready.

Miguel keeps trying to cast Ramon
in the role of misunderstood good guy.

Personally, I think he makes a much better
bad guy. I just have to convince Miguel.

A doughnut
and a ticket to hear me speak?

I'll take a doughnut.

You already got a ticket.

You're bribing people to come
to your keynote address?

The whole doughnut thing
works for you, doesn't it?

The blind leading the blind.

Doughnut and a ticket?

Just fucking take one.

Hey.

Hey. Something up, Lew?

You remember that statement you took
from the Chicky Hines alibi?

You want me to recite it by heart?

So you buy it?

Even though the alibi comes from somebody
trying to beat a drug rap?

It's solid.

- Is the ADA still sitting on it?
- Mm-hm.

Well, then you did all you could.

Maybe.

Hell musta froze over
cause cops won't eat donuts any more.

- Maybe the price is a little too high.
- Oh, please.

Why wouldn't they want to support
a colleague during his shining moment?

You want an honest answer to that?

It was rhetorical.

All right.

All right, tell me.

You're, like, the foulest person
I've ever met.

Every line out of your mouth
is a sick joke.

I'm funny.

Yeah, you can be.

You can also be completely revolting
and sometimes that's all people see.

What do you know?
You're the fucking new guy.

Hey, Dr. Phil, your girlfriend's coming in
again to look at more mug books, so...

Hi there, Deb. Help yourself.
I saved you one with the cream filling.

Ugh, freak.

Sergeant Batista.

It's you.

With clothes.
I mean, different clothes...

Yeah, I'm Detective Barbara Gianna,
Metro Vice.

Can we talk?

Yeah.

Look, this department has had

a lot of shit dumped on it
with the Bay Harbor Butcher.

And now you, a sergeant, are looking to
make the news getting busted with hookers.

Now, I turn you in now,
I save this department worse later.

Cause guys like you never learn.

Hey, look,
maybe I'm an asshole, but...

Do not...

insult me by saying
this is your first time.

OK, cause I hear this same horseshit
sob story from every john I bust.

Does any part of you think that any part of
me is proud of what I've done?

No part of me really cares.

It's just that...

I destroyed my marriage.

I lost my little girl.

I'm a divorced cop

halfway down the road
to a full-blown cliché -

a divorced, alcoholic cop.

And I needed to fight that...

loneliness.

So I found affection any way I could.

I mean, hookers?

I needed to connect with someone,
anyone,

who wouldn't hurt me back no more.

That's it.

Not special.

Just true.

I hate anyone who disgraces the badge.

I hate liars worse.

I'm not lying.

I know.

Are we good?

You keep your dick in your pants
unless you're, A, playing with yourself

or, B, you are doing
something consensual and legal.

Then we're good.

Ramon, what are you...

Any progress on finding
Oscar's killer?

We're liaising with the Feds
in case he went over the border.

But what if he's right here
in our own backyard?

It's an ongoing concern, Ramon.

But not a priority, right?

- Hey. Is there a problem here?
- Lower your voice.

Yeah, Sergeant, your people don't know
what the fuck they're doing.

Hey, that credit you get for being a cop,
it has a limit.

So you do have a game plan.

Cause it doesn't seem
to involve listening to solid leads.

Every lead has been followed.

Then why am I getting calls from a guy
who says he saw Freebo in Miami?

I'll tell you why, because you ignored him.
He called you four times.

- Never happened.
- OK.

OK. Estábien.

Ramon, you give me this tipster's name,
I will personally follow through.

The motherfucker was anonymous.

Oh, did I forget to leave my name? Sorry.

But he knew things about this case.
Like Freebo had a girlfriend, Teegan.

A lot of people know that, sir.
I passed her photo all over town.

Maybe the tipster wanted reward money.

You can find excuses
or you can get off your asses

and try finding my brother's killer.

OK, Ramon, you need to leave now!

Just do your fucking job.

You wanna give his brother
the heads-up?

You do it. I'm a little tired
of the Prado family right now.

That was easier than I thought.

Miguel won't be happy to hear
Ramon's throwing tantrums

with fellow law enforcement.

Not that I'll rely on that alone.

The stakes are too high
and I'm on a roll.

Maybe I should call Rita
with an anonymous tip to marry me.

Oh, what the fuck, Dex?

Good, you're here.
Put this on.

I don't need a giant condom.
I need your spatter report on Jack Rice.

I'm working on it. Just put on the suit
and the gloves and the mask, please.

Fine.

The sooner I'm done with the
weeping fiancée, the better off I'll be.

Raw emotion.
Not your forte, huh?

- What the hell is that supposed to mean?
- Hey, it's not mine either.

It's easy as hell for Quinn.

Think he's just nicer than me?

I don't know about nicer.

Although studies show
that emotional intelligence

plays a greater role
in individual success

than anything that can be measured
on a standard IQ test.

Come here.

Stand right here
and bash this for me, will ya?

Are you calling me an emotional idiot?

If you're an idiot, I'm a vegetable.

Well, that's for fucking sure.

Fuckin'- A, Dex!

Sorry.

You know what,
Fiona has her facts wrong.

She described the assailant as six-foot.

But calculating Jack Rice's height,
allowing for the upward angle...

- Layman here.
- Well, your body acts as a shield.

And all of this is what
your body doesn't block.

So the killer stuns the victim
with the first blow. He falls to his knees.

The second blow brings us blood.

If the killer was six-foot,

the spatter shadow at the crime scene
would be taller and wider.

Instead, it's an exact match
for your shadow.

Ergo, Rice's killer was approximately
your height and weight.

You mean fucking weep-bag
Fiona's height and weight?

No, I mean...

I missed that. Interesting.

- You and Jack planning a big wedding?
- Yeah.

Jack had a lot of friends, yeah.

You know, the thing is,
I went through his address book

and I called a lot of people,

and none of them
have ever heard of you.

Well, we like to keep
to ourselves, you know?

When was that taken?

It was right after we met.

Did he get a chance to see it
before you killed him?

What?

Uh, what-what is she talking about?
I don't...

It's Photoshopped, Fiona.

It's really good work, though.

Really good.
Did you do it yourself?

God, no.

See, I'm thinking maybe you broke into
his apartment to leave that as a surprise.

He comes home, tries to throw
your ass out, and you kill him.

No, I would never hurt Jack.
We were getting married.

You heard about the break-in on TV,
you create the same sketch that was on TV,

the same crowbar in the back door.

You bash your own fucking knee in!
Did he ever even talk to you, Fiona?

Did he ever even say more than
"one fucking coffee to go"?!

That's it. This is over.

I'm sorry.

Wait outside, Officer.
I'll take it from here.

- It's all right.
- Mm-mm.

I know how it really was
between you and Jack.

I know.

You all right?

Yeah.

It's safe. It's just me and you.

Can you believe this shit?

It's amazing.
She's so convincing.

I'm talking about him.
I'm gonna kick his Cadillac-driving ass.

Before Jack,

my life was
an unanswered question.

Unanswered question.

Days and nights
spent looking for something.

Quinn played me
like a fucking $20 guitar.

Shh.

The first time
he came into the café, I... I felt him.

We were connected, you know?

Everywhere I went, he was with me.

Jack made me real.

Made me real. She believes it...
Down to her core.

It's not an act.

The only actor in that room is Quinn.

If Fiona can be this convincing
about someone she didn't even know,

I should be able to convince Rita...

and others.

Ellen.

Hello?

Ellen?

Mmm.

Thank Christ you found the place.
I couldn't have waited much longer.

A client just sent me these.

Without a responsible adult to share them
with or shame me, I would eat them all.

I would.

- Try that one.
- Mm-mm.

Seriously, ganache frosting.

Oh, what the hell?

So... I'm guessing you wanted
to meet for reasons

other than working up
a case of type 2 diabetes.

The Chicky Hines conviction.

Yeah.

Not the justice system's finest hour.

My people have come across evidence
that could get the case reopened.

I like the sound of the quid.
What's the pro quo?

Nada.

Witness statement giving Hines an alibi,
another suspect. All of which checks out.

Ohh.

Two-plus decades doing this job

and a cop's never once handed me
a get-out-of-jail card.

Especially when that cop's got a history
with the ADA who put my guy away.

This isn't about Miguel Prado.
It's about doing what's right.

Well, I'll take "yes" for an answer then.

Prado know you're coming to me
with this?

No.

Guess he'll find out.

Well, you better be wearing old clothes,

because the shit is gonna be flying
in your direction.

Hmm.

- Hmm?
- Whoa.

Cupcakes and Scotch.

Yes.

Come on.

Two fingers.

Ah.

Yeah, I'm tellin' you,
I saw Freebo again.

Yeah, I'm tellin' you,
I saw Freebo again.

No, man, I'm not comin' in.

Fine, I'll meet you.
You got a favorite bar?

Yeah, I know it. Order me a rum and Coke.
I'll be there in ten.

You can lead a horse to water,
but you can't make him drink.

Unless you order his favorite
and keep him waiting.

And waiting.

Hey.

So the nut job went.

She said she caved his head in
to preserve their love.

Good work.
How about I buy you a drink?

How about you kiss my ass?

Next time you're playing good cop/bad cop,
you fucking let me know I'm playing too.

- I'm sorry about that.
- When'd you figure out she did it?

I had a hunch from the beginning.
But I wasn't sure until you were.

- Why didn't you tell me?
- Cause you'd have blown it.

So fuck you.

Morgan, you got one tool in your toolbox
and that's a hammer.

You can't help yourself.
So I played off it, and it worked.

You just don't have a poker face yet.

Maybe yours is a little too good.

Don't you have a life?

Not lately.

Whew.

I needed to talk to you about Ramon.

Yeah, I heard he made a scene. Sorry.

Actually, it was an eye-opener.

Made me realize you were right.

- About?
- Telling him...

About Freebo.

He's putting his career at risk.
And it could hurt your reputation.

I'm not gonna be responsible for that.

Don't worry.
Ramon will always put family first.

We worked too hard
to get to where we are.

- He would never jeopardize that.
- And we can trust him?

He's in a lot of pain.

Which we can end. Tonight.

- Dex...
- Please.

Just call him.

Hey, Ramon, what are you up to?

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold on.

Why don't you just get the bartender
to call you a taxi, or I'll...

Nah, fuck you, Miguel.

The motherfucking bartender
won't even give me...

Fuck.

Having a big night, huh?

What I'm having is another drink,
but this prick is trying to cut me off.

- Oh, and you're here.
- Boys' night out.

So why don't we just
all go back to my place?

- We can have Syl make a little...
- I'm not going to your place.

I'm not gonna let Sara
and the kids see you like this.

Like you're some kind
of example in this family?

Turning your back on Oscarito!

Oye, this is not the place.
Now, you know that.

Tell me something.

Why are you running your mouth about
family business to a goddamn stranger?

Dexter is not the problem here, Ramon.
Now, come on, please.

The two of you coming in here like some
fucking kind of Batman and Robin.

Whoa.

Keep your fucking hands
off of me, pendejo.

I'm sorry, Dexter. I got this.

You sure?

He said fuck off.

I'm gonna get another drink.

Hey, that guy over there, the drunk one,
he just put his hand on that girl.

She's pretty upset,
and I think I saw a gun.

I take no pleasure
in manipulating Miguel this way.

Still, I think he'd prefer it
to my usual alternative.

Hey.

You didn't return my last text.

Well, I guess I ran out of ways to say
I won't be your fuckin' rat.

Heard you and Quinn
had a tricky case.

I just filed the report.

Yeah, I just read it.

According to the report, Quinn
cracked the case mostly on his own,

and I'm wondering why someone
hoping to get her shield

would let him write it up that way.

I wrote the goddamn report.
Not him.

He got the confession, so it's his win.

Unless he used you.

You see, he's good at that.

You partner with him, you trust him, then
sooner or later, you're questioning yourself.

I mean, he's such a great guy.
It can't be him.

Except the only question he's asking
is how everything can benefit him.

Hey, breakfast.

Thanks for coming.

We used to play on this beach right here.
Me, Ramon, Oscar.

Sounds fun.

Ah, we had each other.

Always have.

No matter what kind
of horrible shit you would pull,

they knew you inside-out,
the good and the bad.

And they were there for you,
no matter what.

I never had that.

Maybe you're lucky
you don't have it to lose.

You won't be left with a gaping hole.

No, there are still holes.
I just find other ways to fill them.

I lost Oscar to drugs
long before he was killed.

And now I'm losing Ramon.

I can't fool myself.

He can't be trusted.

It's like...

Coño...

I only have one person
I can trust any more.

Yourself.

I was thinking of you.

- Oh.
- Oh, don't worry.

I know that trust
doesn't come too easy to you.

- Is it that obvious?
- Well, to me.

I can just see that you're used
to carrying your secrets to yourself.

- Tends to be safer that way.
- But it's a hell of a burden, man.

See, I'm used to having a brother.

Share the load.

I'm hoping maybe
you'll get used to it too.

To be a brother.

To have a friend.

To have a wife, a family.

Fiona wanted it so bad
she invented it,

played all the parts herself.

But if you play a role long enough,
really commit,

does it ever become real?

Could I become real?

Hi, Dexter.

Dexter?

This is a surprise. You didn't call.

Is everything all right?

Dexter, what is it?

My life has always felt like...

an unanswered question.

A string of days and nights,
waiting for something to happen, but...

I didn't know what.

Why is he acting so weird?

I don't know.

Rita, we're connected.

Wherever I am...

I feel you...

and the kids...

With me.

You're what makes me real.

I want us to...

always go out for banana splits.

And replant the lemon tree
that keeps dying.

And I never, ever
want to miss a pizza night.

And that's how I know
I want to marry you.

Because something as simple
as pizza night is the highlight of my week.

But not without the kids.

Cody, Astor,

you guys are my family.

I'm gonna hang on to you for dear life.

Please, say yes.

Yes!

Yes, we will marry you.

Most actors toil in obscurity,
never stepping into the spotlight.

But if you hone your craft,

work diligently,

you might just find yourself
cast in the role of a lifetime.