All language subtitles for Episode 01 - Living the Dream

Previously on Dexter.

It's for sure. I'm pregnant.

What kind of father would I be?

After all, I kill people.

Aah!

Me? Demented daddy Dexter.

This child is happening.
But your role in its life is entirely up to you.

Yesterday morning you said
when the case ends, we end.

I thought you understood
when we got involved.

I track killers. That's what I do.

A pattern of bodies
was identified in Oregon.

My flight leaves tonight.

If you're leaving,
we gotta work out logistics.

Do you honestly want
to go down this path?

I don't know if I'm
going to be a father to the kid.

How could even say you're not
gonna be a father to that kid?

I mean, where would you be
without Harry?

Harry knew my mother.
Laura Moser was his informant.

Was he just using her?

Was he using me?

Dad wasn't perfect, Deb.

What did he do? Cheat on Mom?

- Bullshit. Who?
- I need all the records you have

on my dad's confidential informants.

- Attractive female CI's?
- Why, you know something?

There's a good reason
why Quinn's of interest to IA.

Internal Affairs is investigating you.
Is there something you're not telling us?

Anton is not officially a Cl.

- What do you mean?
- I never filed an arrest report on him.

You are the best thing
that has happened to me.

Just sending out my positive
intentions to our baby.

You know, we're connected.
You're what makes me real.

Please say yes.

Yes, we will marry you.

Syl has offered to list my house
so we can buy something bigger.

Better hope she doesn't insist
on a place with central air.

I was actually thinking
I might keep my place.

"No" doesn't really work
in a relationship, Dexter.

Every man needs his privacy.
Some more than others.

Is it possible
I've actually made a friend?

Someone I can trust
with my dark secrets?

I didn't teach you the code
to share with your buddies.

Miguel really did it.
And I taught him how.

Harry was right. He used me.

You're all just unchecked
versions of myself,

what I would've become
without my father's code.

I could kill you now.

- I've never felt this.
- You've never had a son before.

You want to see him
come into the world.

Yes. I've never wanted anything
so much in my life.

I have moved on from my father,

but I still need his code.

But right now, life is good.

Dexter Morgan, family man.

Tonight's the night.

The night when a primal,
sacred need calls to me.

I've waited and waited.

But tonight, this night...

...it's time.

Tonight's the night I finally...

...sleep.

No...

OK, Harrison.
The driving thing didn't work.

The singing thing didn't work.

You planning on both of us not sleeping
for another three months?

Apparently so.

OK, I want to take you inside,
but I don't want you waking Mommy.

Hey.

If you could talk, you'd tell me
not to worry about you, right?

No...

Oh, please.

No, don't...

No.

Please.

Please. Please.

Shh.

It's already over.

- Marco!
- Polo.

Marco.

Polo.

Marco...

There's this cliché
where serial killers

are always described as,
"Quiet, kept to himself. Kind of a loner."

It's a cliché for a reason.

Has anybody seen my keys?

Astor, I asked you
to keep it down.

Why do you hate my music
so much?

I don't hate your music.

You don't?

Cody, get out of the Larsons' pool.
It's time for school.

If I had an iPod, you wouldn't
have to listen to my stuff.

You want an iPod, earn one.
Do your chores. Unpack your room.

God, you are so unfair!

Did you get any sleep?

Uh, an hour and a half, maybe.

Oh, and you have court.

Look, I appreciate you
taking the night shift,

but when you have a big day like today,
it's OK to wake me up.

Well, it's kind of on-the-job training,
you know?

All that matters
is his father's there for him.

- I cannot find keys...
- Cody!

Astor, the music.

You usually leave them
right here by the phone.

I know.

- School. Clothes. Now.
- Sorry.

You don't get some sleep, it won't be
your keys that get lost, it'll be your mind.

I lost that years ago.

Dexter Morgan,
good suburban husband.

Happy father of three.

On paper, anyway.

Hey, Dex, what's the news?

Uh, too soon to tell.

Dexter? Dexter, you forgot
your cell phone.

Oh, good morning, Elliot.

Another beautiful day.
More pool time for the kids.

Well, you already took the morning shift,
so I'll watch them this afternoon.

Takes a village.

- Ah. Mm.
- Take that!

Car pools and swimming pools.

How much are we living the dream?

So much.

Living the dream.

Mm.

Hey, um, do you think you can
TiVo Jon Stewart for me?

Mm.

Thinking about Jon Stewart, huh?

Well, he is handsome.

And funny.

I love you.

Oh, fuck me.

That's kind of where this is heading.

No. I'm late for work.

It's a good thing you moved in,
or I'd never see you.

Well, one of us has to live here.

At least with the cruise ship,
I get to see you every few days.

- I went on tour...
- I know.

It's OK, I kind of like it.

Keeps you from getting sick of me.

- That's never going to happen.
- Yeah, because you're never here.

No, because you make me happy.

And what conclusions did you draw
from the blood evidence, Mr. Morgan?

I was able to determine
the victim's movement and direction

after the initial
blunt-force trauma to the head

caused by the defendant's fist.

How so?

I...reconstructed a...

timeline and sequence of events

by examining...
It's here somewhere.

I noticed a passive
flow pattern bloodstain

approximately two meters in length

emanating from the head wound,

and the sample was consistent
with the sample from the defendant's shirt.

You did say "passive
flow pattern bloodstain"?

Quote, unquote.

What exactly do your notes say?

Um...

"The bloodstain described
a passive pooling

"and flow configuration,
type O negative,

"matching the sample taken from," um...

uh, "Leonetti's shirt."

But this is the Gomez hearing.

Yes, Mr. Morgan.
The defendant's name is Benito Gomez.

I must've brought
the wrong notes.

Do you frequently become
confused and disoriented

while conducting your spatter
analysis, Mr. Morgan?

No, I do not.
We... just had a new baby.

Things were a little hectic this morning.

So you're saying that you're sleep-deprived
and it's affecting your judgment?

No, it's just a momentary mix-up.

Wrong notes, wrong blood type.

Wrong defendant. Wrong case.

That's what you call
a momentary mix-up in a murder trial?

I misspoke.

- Oh, fuck.
- Your honor, the witness

has just demonstrated
how unreliable he is in a courtroom.

I would have to ask
how reliable his work is in the lab.

Or on a crime scene.

Moreover, how reliable
is a police department

that would place so much trust
in his expert opinion?

I'm halfway through
the CI files you gave me.

I were you, I'd spend more time
with that man of yours

and less time looking for some
old confidential informant

your daddy might've diddled
back in the day.

I meet another one tomorrow.

Maybe then I'll finally get
some answers.

Say you do.

Then what?

Then... I'll know.

That my perfect fucking father
wasn't so fucking perfect.

So that's what, the meaning of life?

The meaning of my life.

Hey, buddy.

Guess where I was yesterday.

- Well, I'm not sure, I...
- I was at a store.

Want to take a guess
what kind of store?

- I don't know. Grocery?
- Clothing.

You know me,
I'm pretty into that shit.

Gotta come correct and all.
But not yesterday.

- Look, if this is about...
- Come on, buddy. Let me finish.

I was at a store helping a lady
pick out a suit for her son.

Know why?
Because he had to be in court

to see the guy who killed his old man.

Kid's first fucking suit.
Something a father should be doing.

- I'm sorry.
- Little late for "sorry".

That asshole you let walk?

- Benito Gomez.
- Ah, now you get it right.

You actually see
what that fuckhead did?

Gomez hit the kid's old man so hard,

his cheekbone broke,
pushing his eyeball up and out of his face.

Then Gomez, sweetheart that he is,
kills the guy in front of his own son.

- I know.
- How about this beauty?

Gomez did five years
for beating his girlfriend

so bad even her dentist
had a hard time with the ID.

So is your "sorry"
gonna keep Gomez

from pounding somebody else
into the next world?

Jesus, chill out, Quinn.

No, Deb, he's right.
I screwed up in court today.

- Gomez walked. This one's on me.
- Thanks. That means so much to me.

Why don't you hold on to those
for me, OK, buddy?

I'm sick of looking at 'em.

- You screwed up?
- Big time.

Should I be worried?

No, I'll be OK.

Maybe it's Benny Gomez
who should be worried.

And good solve
on the Reynolds case, guys.

Next up, chief's office wants...

Anything I can do to keep that
angry Irish off your ass, let me know.

You're a real friend, Vince.

Quinn's a good cop.
I need a good kill.

And sometimes one just falls
into your lap.

We've got a body in Kendall.

Morgan, Quinn, you're up.

And, Dexter, there's blood.
Lots of blood.

Talk about your bloodbath.

Tough room.

OK, femoral artery severed.
She bled out in minutes.

- Suicide?
- No weapon on the premises.

Exactly. The coroner can suck
my uncircumcised dick

if he doesn't rule this a homicide.

That's way TMI, Masuka.

Employment records show
she just got promoted to sous-chef.

A total babe.
And she could cook.

Had it all going on.

Then this.

It's a very well-organized crime scene.
The assailant took his time.

Cleaned up after himself.

Obviously doesn't have kids.

Keep an eye on our expert witness.

In case our girl's parents
actually want to see

someone go to jail for doing this
to their daughter.

Harsh.

Christine Hill, Broward Journal dispatch.

And?

And was Ms. Bell the only victim?

- Who gave you her name?
- I searched the address

on this thing called the internet.

Now, what can you tell me
about the murder?

Suspects?

Murder? Suspects?

We still haven't officially
ruled out suicide.

- So it was pills?
- No.

Then she bled out. Women pretty much
only do one or the other.

Do me a favor. You break this case
before we do, give me a call.

It's Detective Joseph Quinn.

Miami Metro, extension 3734.

- Cell number?
- Mm.

Nice touch, Joseph.

Damn it.

Can't anyone fill up the...

fucking... water thing?

- Tough crime scene?
- No.

Mm... kind of.

Yes.

You know, when things are going good,

I think that's God's way
of saying to cover your ass,

because something's gonna
jump up and bite it, hard.

Well put.

You and Anton doing OK?

- Knock on wood.
- Any sign your ass is gonna get bit?

None.

So this is you just making yourself crazy?

That's kind of what I do.

What?

It's just I've taken that trip
a thousand times before.

- And?
- And knock it off.

Is that an order, boss?

Just some free advice from someone
who's been there before.

Hey, did you ever go out with that guy
that Anton wanted you to meet?

Musicians aren't really my thing.

He owns a restaurant.
Three of 'em.

Cuban restaurants.

What the fuck is wrong
with musicians?

That came out wrong.

What makes you think
a Cuban restaurant matters?

That came out wrong too.

I'm not looking
for anyone new anyway.

But when and if, I'll let you know.

- Thanks.
- Mm-hm.

Finally. Peace and quiet.

No crying baby.

No Marco, no Polo.

Just me... and blood.

And Mr. Benito Gomez.

Where to find a washed-up boxer
like you?

Trailer park. Great.

Kids, neighbors.

More kids.

Sounds like my world.

But this...

the only still open-for-business
establishment in a lonely strip mall?

That's kind of calling to me.

This feels good.

Hey, you.

Hey, Dex. You alone?

Uh, yeah. Why?

Well, Harrison won't go down
for his nap.

Surprise, surprise.

You think maybe
you could sing to him?

You bet.

OK. All right, we're gonna
put you on speaker.

♪ Oh, beautiful for spacious skies

♪ For amber waves of grain
- Shh.

♪ For purple mountain majesty

♪ Above the fruited plain

♪ America, America, God... ♪

He's finally calming.

Thank you, Dexter. We love you.

Me too.

First up today,
finish the Lisa Bell blood work.

Tonight, a little Benny Gomez recon.

Then go home and sing
the last 95 verses

of America the Beautiful to my baby son.

Who knew life could get so...
unsimple?

I can deal. I can deal.

Yo, Quinn. Boobs plus drinks equals...

Titty bar. Can't. Got a date.

Ah. How about you, Morgan?

Stud muffin still out of town?

It's tempting, Masuka. And elegant.

Fuck off and die.
Then die again.

So that's a no.

- I am feeling no love here, folks.
- Then it's working.

Hey, slacker. Half-day?

This is me leaving, Vince.
I do it every day.

But every day wasn't like today.
What you went through? Come on.

Drinks are on me. It'll cheer you up!

- I'm not uncheered.
- Yeah?

Tell that to your face.

- I'm going home to my family.
- Vastly overrated.

Just got a call from Robbery.

Some guy on his honeymoon
took a shot in the head.

Grave condition.
They're pulling the plug tomorrow.

Nice fucking wedding gift.

Yeah. The file is gonna land
on my desk first thing in the morning.

And Robbery's got squat.

It's gonna be a total goat fuck.

It sounds like you need a drink, papi.

You know what, Vince?

I can use a Cuervo. Or ten.

My dark passenger
is like a trapped coal miner,

always tapping,
always letting me know

it's still in there, still alive.

Quinn's legwork may have shown me
where to find our friend,

but this, Benny -

my blood work is the stuff
that seals your fate.

No security cameras.

Parks away from the lights.

You just come and go
as you please.

But as of tomorrow night,
those days are over.

I wasn't sure you'd actually come by.

Put in my face time with Masuka.

And then I came to where
I really wanted to be.

Tell me again this isn't crazy.

Yeah, it's crazy.

Crazy good.

Keep shooting.

He's so sweet
when he's sleeping.

We were all like that once.

Pure and innocent.

But then we grow up...

and things happen.

Well, nothing's going to happen.

Not when he has a great dad
watching over him.

Yeah, he's a lucky guy.

Astor!

- Mom!
- Turn that down.

We wouldn't have this problem
if you would just get me--

This is not how you go about
getting an iPod.

Now, since you woke your brother up,

you can walk him around the living room
until he falls asleep.

- But he never sleeps.
- Think about that next time.

There we go.

You'd like an iPod,
wouldn't you, little Harrison?

Why not just end the terror
and give her an iPod?

Mm-mm.

No, it's a power play.

She's trying to manipulate us
to get what she wants.

- That's not how it works in this family.
- Oh, right. Of course.

Cody. No more Marco Polo
in the mornings.

- But it's important.
- So is being ready for school.

When I grow up,
I want to be just like you.

Do what I want when I want.

You and me both.

And I want to be just like you.

Marco!

Polo!

Great time last night, huh, Angel?

What?

You could've totally fucked
that stripper.

Get to work, gentlemen.

What got into her?

What is this? Extreme Home Makeover:
Forensics Edition?

The first pass through, I found some blood
that didn't belong to the victim.

Possible DNA from the killer?

Don't think so.
The sample was pretty degraded.

Then what's the source?

Not sure. Yet.

Coming from you,
why does that not surprise me?

You know he's my brother, right?

Found something. Mr. Morgan.

Hmm?

It's blood.

Pool pattern, not incidental spatter
from the recent murder.

This is something else entirely.

Where's it from?

Bathtub.

So you're taking an already
extremely difficult case

and polluting it with your, what, theories?

- I didn't put the blood there.
- And according to you, neither did our killer.

Joey, why don't we step outside,
let the geeks get their geek on?

Look, I gotta be somewhere, so see if
you can hold things down around here

without going all asshole
on my brother, OK?

Blood tells. Blood always tells.

Dexter.

How's my favorite blood spatter analyst?

Uh, great.

How's my favorite serial killer hunter?

Uh, you just missed Deb.

Actually, I'm here to see you.

Oh.

Database has a girl
killed here recently.

Severed femoral artery?

Pretty brutal.

Crime scene telling you anything?

Not much.

Killer was careful, right?

- Immaculate.
- Very.

Well, you're in the middle of
something here. I don't want to interrupt.

Mind if I drop by the station later?

Sure, not a problem.

Good seeing you again, Dexter.

Shit.

Hello, Detective.
Won't you come in?

I'm here to talk about Harry Morgan.

I'm his daughter, Debra.

Debra Morgan.

Handsome Harry Morgan.
How is he?

He died a while back.

Life does tend to suck.

Did you and my father have...

a good relationship?

Well...

Your father was a driven man.

He saw something he wanted,
nothing got in his way.

You're talking about women?

Women. Bad guys.

Anything.

Anyone.

Harry always said the only word
that wasn't in his vocabulary was "no".

- Did you say no to him?
- Dear.

I said yes.

All the time.

Shit, hundreds of times.

Only problem was...

Only problem was what?

I was saying yes to a question
he never asked.

So you didn't have an affair
with my father?

I don't know who you're looking for,
honey, but it ain't me.

Shut down for decades. Way out of town.

I'm liking this.

Broken-down boxer,
broken-down arena.

A fitting place for a punk like Benny Gomez
to go down for the count.

Where you been?

Oh. Looking for misery.

- No upside to that.
- So I'm fucking learning.

That's all we got on the groom.
Plug was pulled 4:45 this morning.

It's all yours.

A man's life and death,
reduced to a few...

What do you call 'em?

- Bytes.
- A few bytes. Just like that.

This economy, last thing
our city needs is dead tourists.

Hey, welcome to Miami.
Have a nice day.

Is that our tourist, Sergeant?

- It is, Lieutenant.
- OK.

The mayor's already given me an aneurysm
over this one, so make it a quick solve.

OK.

So whatever happened between you
and that Barbara Gianna from Vice?

We broke up.

Wanted different things.

Office romances.
Doomed before they fucking start.

- You mind if I ask her out?
- Knock yourself out.

The perfect husband would've
gotten rid of his old apartment.

But I kill people.

Not exactly the perfect husband.

Someone new is moving in.

Be nice.

The land that time
and Florida Electric forgot.

Look at this place.

All the cheering, all the triumph,

all the blood.

All for sport.

Until tonight.

Keep at it, Benny,
and you'll be feeling no pain.

Better that way.

Tell me you got a reason
for sleeping alone in your car

outside a bar
other than you're drunk.

I'm tired.

License and registration, please.

Sorry about this, Officer.
This is not what it looks like.

- You're with Homicide?
- Yes, sir.

Then you ought to know better.
Get out of the car, please.

You know your ABCs?

- Of course I do.
- Give me 'em backwards.

Uh... Z, Y, X, W...

V, U, T, S, R, Q,

- P, O, N, M, L, K...
- Clearly you're not drunk.

Yet.

Damn it, Benny.

I can't go chasing after you
with a cop up my ass.

You got more important places
to be, Mr. Morgan.

Tell me about it.

Hey.

I thought you were working late.

- So did I.
- Mm.

Baby's down.

You know what that means?

- Mm. Sleep.
- Sex.

- Oh.
- And I'm not talking the rushed, frantic,

the-kids-are-asleep sex.

But slow, hot, steamy,
naughty sex.

Look, if you're too tired...

Dexter, ever since the move
and the baby,

- we've had, like, zero time together.
- Yeah.

I mean, aren't you
as horny as I am?

Course I am.

All right. Well, just close your eyes.

Maybe I can squeeze in a power nap.

OK, open.

Or not.

I was saving these for when we finally
got some real time alone.

And...

And tonight's the night.

Mm.

Oh. Ha-ha...

- Oh...
- Mm.

It's all right. I'll go.

You've already done so much.

Oh, it's OK. Who's a good boy?

Yeah, who's a good boy?
Who's a good boy?

Yeah.

Want to know a secret?

Daddy kills people.

Well, bad people.

Not really anybody else
I can tell about that, you know?

Daddy's not going anywhere, buddy.

I've already lost my innocence.
I'm not going to sacrifice yours too.

- Triple red-eye, please.
- That's your third one today, bro.

You don't cut back,
you're tempting the heart gods.

Least of my worries.

Bro.

Brought you a copy of my article.

Figured you're a dumb cop
and don't read the paper.

Give me some credit.
I never miss the obituaries.

- Front page. Nice.
- I do what I can.

My editor OK'd a follow-up.
You got anything for me?

I would if I could, but I got nothing.

- Hmm.
- Besides, off the record,

we, uh, got bigger fish to fry.

What kind of fish?

Off the record.

You know those pricks who've been
shaking down tourists?

- The Vacation Robbers?
- No, the Vacation Murderers.

They shot some poor newlywed.
Didn't make it.

So... we're more than
a little distracted.

You want another distraction,
I'd love to take you out for a drink.

You know, to thank you
for your help...

- with the bathtub story.
- Uh-huh.

Uh-uh. I am so not hitting on you.

Yeah, me neither.
Let's make it dinner.

I got the blood work back
from our bathroom do-over.

- Did you run it through the database?
- No point.

The blood you swabbed
showed shit-all on the DNA front.

Our chances of finding out
who it belongs to

are about, oh,
one in six fucking billion.

What was Lisa Bell's address?

1578 Glencoe. Why?

Well...

if the DNA won't tell us who it
belonged to, maybe the address will.

1578 Glencoe.

April 11th, 1979. Homicide.

1979?

Vicky Noonan, 22.

Found in the bathtub.

Bled out. Incision to her thigh.

What are the chances of that?

What are the chances of what?

Special Agent Lundy.

Vincent Masuka, if memory serves.

That's right.

LFI on the BHB.

- Heh.
- You're working a case, right?

- Feds need us to...
- Mind if I speak with Dexter?

Uh... I'll go, uh, to Records

and get the write-up on Noonan.

Just doing my job.

- He's right, you know.
- About?

Why I'm in Miami. It is a case.

Yeah, I figured.

But why do you need me?
You have the full resources of the FBI.

Not anymore. I'm retired.

Oh. Their loss.

Yeah, well.

I fish. Travel.

And, uh...

now I have the time to track down
the one twisted son of a bitch who got away.

So who is the twisted son of a bitch?

I call him the Trinity Killer.

Kills in threes.

Been doing it all over
the country for years.

Problem is,
I can't prove he exists.

Law enforcement
doesn't talk to each other.

So no one at the FBI
is even on board.

Just me.

I've been looking for a break.
Then this happens.

Lisa Bell.

Her murder profile
fits the previous victims.

Trinity's in Miami, Dexter.

Starting his cycle all over again.

No... No...

No!

No...

How far back do your cases go?

About 15 years.

The house and room
where Lisa Bell was murdered

was the site of a very similar homicide
30 years ago.

Take a look.

No... No...

We've come full circle.
He's back where his killing began.

Whew. 30 years.

You know what this means?

Trinity's the most
successful serial killer to ever...

get away with it.

What? I'm fine.
I can't wait to see you.

Anton, I have to go.
I have a meeting.

Hello, Debra.

Motherfucking fuck.

Nice to see you too.

What are...

What... What are you doing here?

Are you here on a case?

Actually, I'm retired now.

Yet you're here.

Life has a natural forward momentum.
Certain things are inevitable.

Like you.

Making detective.

- Congratulations.
- Thanks.

I never had any doubt.

So how long will your forward momentum
keep you in Miami?

Not sure exactly.

- Be seeing you.
- Yeah.

I guess. Maybe.
I mean, I don't... I don't know.

Big plans this evening, Sergeant?

The usual, Lieutenant.

Oh.

- Hey, guys.
- Hey.

Drinks?

I had Benny Gomez on the ropes
and let him slip away.

No way I can go to that bar again.

Officer Alphabet made sure of that.

Which means I grab Benny
where he lives.

A higher degree of difficulty,
but I don't have a choice.

If I want to be around for my son,
I have to do this right.

I'm... killing for two now.

- The fuck you want?
- You.

Look at him. Fast asleep.

Lucky guy.

I know you.

I'm the blood guy.

You've made a lot of people
very miserable.

Me included.

Till now.

Oh...

Because now I get to answer
life's big question.

My life, anyway.

Can I do it? Can I have it all?

Oh, shit.

Hello?

Dexter, I need you to go to
an all-night pharmacy right away.

I'm kind of
in the middle of something.

Well, Harrison has an ear infection.
He's in a lot of pain, Dexter.

Whatever you're doing can wait.

Uh, right. My mistake.
I wasn't thinking.

I'm on my way.

Kids.

Gotta go.

No time to savor this.

Clock's ticking.

But it's all about sacrifice.

For the good of the family.

Shit!

Maybe tonight wasn't perfect.

Maybe I need to reboot
the way I do things.

But at least I'm on the right road.

I'm on my way
to taking care of my family,

raising my son.

And all the while
doing what I have to do

to satisfy a calling
that I can't ignore...

or deny.

I can do this.

Dexter!

You don't need to sleep!

You need to wake up!