Rita' s about to take out the trash when Dexter comes in, holding a couple coffees. "Decaf mochachino non-fat, no whip, just the way you like it," he says, and Rita instantly embraces him. "I got your message. How's Debra?" "Uh, she has all her limbs," he says with a half-smile. "Thank God she's alive. Poor thing must be a mess. Falling for a serial killer?" Heh. "What are the odds?" says Dex, fully realizing the irony of this conversation. "How about you? Are you all right?" "Yeah," he says, and pauses. "No." Another pause, and Rita searches his face. "I've been through a lot, lately," he says at last. Touching her hair gently, he says, "I could use a little more time with you, and the kids." "We could, too," she responds. He tries to apologize for how he's been acting, but she shushes him with a finger and kisses him lovingly. She asks that next time, he just tell her what's going on. "When you don't return my calls, I get a little paranoid." "I'll be better about that," he says. "Good. Who knows, you might even find that I can handle the truth." Yeah, I don't know about that. "I wish that was the case," Dexter VOs.
Outside, he continues, "The fact is, there's nobody left alive who can handle my truth." When he reaches his car, he looks down the street and notices Doakes in his cruiser, watching him. "Doakes always sensed I was hiding something. Now he knows. My devil danced with his demon, and the fiddler's tune is far from over." Doakes does the I've Totally Got My Fuckin' Eyes On You motion with his index and middle finger, and Dex gets into his car, pretending not to notice.
Rita's taking out the trash as Dexter's VO goes on: "Sometime I wonder what it would be like for everything inside me that's denied and unknown to be revealed." Rita looks down, and sees Paul's shoe. Frozen, she looks stunned. "But I'll never know. I live my life in hiding. My survival depends on it."
Deb is getting out of her car, arriving at what I'm assuming is a press conference to announce the death of the ITK, and the VO isn't over yet. Well, come on, it is the season finale! "Dearly damaged Debra. She's here to face what's left of the monster, spit on his carcass, mourn him. She's in hiding now, too. Harry's daughter will be damned if she lets anyone see what she's suffering inside. That's her tragedy. My tragedy is that I killed the one person I didn't have to hide from, and I'm the only one who mourns him." Dexter's arrived now, too, and he's making his way through throngs of onlookers. He and Deb meet at the center of what would be the red carpet if they were arriving at a Hollywood premiere, and Dex VOs, "Everyone else would probably thank me if they knew I was the one who drained him of his life." "Good job in there, Dex. You sliced him up good," says one cop, a figure of Dex's imagination. Dex smiles at him, and Deb smiles, too. "In fact, deep down I'm pretty sure they'd appreciate a lot of my work." An imaginary plane flies overhead with a banner that reads, "We Heart Dexter," as the crowd below becomes an imaginary parade for our leading man, with people holding big posters of his face that say "Go Dexter!" "Way to take out the trash," says one guy, as people cheer and red-white-and-blue confetti falls to the ground. "All right, Dexter, protecting our children!" rejoices a woman on the sidelines. Dexter smiles and enjoys the celebration like he's a movie star surrounded by devoted fans. Deb grabs his hand and holds it over their heads while jumping up and down. "This is what it must feel like to walk in full sunlight, my darkness revealed, my shadow self embraced."