She starts by giving Dexter shit about the apartment -- he can't go throwing his marriage away, seemingly on purpose. She's the fuckup in the family, not him. Dexter comes clean and says he sometimes feels trapped. Deb's not feeling that sympathetic to that -- not that she ever would, but especially today, she's not understanding how three great kids and a wife who adores him could be bad. This time yesterday, she had Lundy and Anton. Now she has nothing, and it's her fault. She's decided: no matter what she does, it's gonna be the wrong thing because SHE'S the problem. She's so irrevocably fucked up that everything she ever does will be wrong and everything she touches will turn to shit. You guys, think back to the beginning of the season, when we were all loving smart, strong, socially thriving Deb. I think we all knew she was being set up for a fall, but seeing it like this is heartbreaking. She breaks into hysterical, hiccupping sobs, crying, "I'm broken!" Evenly, but not unemotionally, Dexter tells her, "You're not. I am." It's the most honest he's ever been with her, even if she's not equipped to take it for anything but trying to make her feel better. He tries to get her to come back to the house, but she doesn't want to be touched. She's freaking out. Dexter finally grabs her into a hug and lets her wail. The voice-over, meanwhile, plots some vengeance on her behalf.
Apparently, VO has been going for a long time, because when Dexter gets back to his apartment, it's nighttime, and VO is still yammering about killing Trinity. It manages to shut up when Dex turns a corner and finds Rita sitting on his bed. Oh, awesome, time for The Talk of What Your Lies Have Done to Our Marriage. Love that. She's somber as she notes that Dexter's landlord, who let her in, had no idea he was married. She wanted to see the apartment, see if he's doing drugs again (well, "again," but don't make me remember that storyline). She says she went through everything in his apartment looking for an answer, while Dexter's eyes go wide at what she could have found. "What [could] be so horrible," she asks, "that my husband would have to keep a place to hide it from me. Or his own sister." She came across Dexter's Big Box o' Death but says she didn't want to be the person to break into it. She doesn't want to be the person snooping around apartments, either. She just needs to know what he's hiding. Dexter opens the trunk and shows her what's inside: it's Harry's rifle. He explains that he didn't want to keep it in the house with the kids, while his VO reminds us that his implements of death are in the secret compartment below. One case with a disassembled rifle doesn't seem to justify paying rent on a whole other apartment (why not keep it at Deb's?), but to Rita's credit, she doesn't entirely buy it. Or Dexter when he assures her he has "nothing to hide." The car accident. The apartment. The security lights. As Rita packs Harrison up to go, she tells him the most disturbing thing is how good Dexter's gotten at lying. And you know? She's completely in the right. And yet, when she tells him, "When you're ready to come home, we have a lot of work to do if this marriage has any hope," it's hard not to hate her, at least a little. Dexter really HAS made her the bad guy.
Now that all that boring marriage business is out of the way, let's get back to the killin'! Back at the Bludgeon Building (former site of Fisty McBludgeon's Pub), our old pal Security Guard patrols the halls alone, his head unadorned and just waiting to get bashed in. Outside, Dexter pulls up, VO yammering as always. He's got to get to the surveillance room and head off Trinity there. Harry, ever the backseat driver, shows up and notes the absence of the security guard.
Cut to a pan up Trinity, clad neck to toe in what looks like a plastic safety suit, wielding a hammer, while a man whimpers in pain and abject fear. Meanwhile, Dexter urgently heads inside and notes the photos on the absent security guard's desk. Two kids. Just like the victim 30 years ago. "It's the security guard," Dexter says, gravely. Back to Trinity, as his unseen victim screams. Dexter heads for the elevator, but before he can push a button, it dings. He darts out around a corner and watches...as a very un-bloodied Security Guard disembarks. So...not Trinity's victim, then.
No, sports fans, if you'd guessed that the Sandwich Guy introduced in the first act would go off in the third act, you're right. Poor bastard. Trinity works on his knee while, in the lobby, Dexter sends the elevator up to 12 to get the Security Guard to follow it, out of his way. Trinity, meanwhile, dons a face shield. You guys, when the guy working you over with a blunt instrument is thinking this seriously about splatter protection, it's just not your day. "Please," Sandwich Guy begs, "I'm a father!" Trinity grabs him by his shirt and pulls him up to his feet. "You were no father!" he growls, then starts savagely beating him with the hammer. Blood is spattering everywhere, it's totally disturbing, and Trinity keeps repeating, "You made me!"
Meantime, Dexter breaks into the surveillance room, and Harry notes that the recording disk is gone. Probably just as well for Dexter -- he doesn't want the cops taking care of this. He frantically searches the camera feeds until he finds the one showing the Vicious Bloody Death channel. Trinity's still working that hammer, producing so much spatter that even Dexter seems horrified. Finally, Trin turns the hammer claw-side out (would not blame you if you checked out of this paragraph at those words) and winds up for one last particularly juicy shot to what I can only hope is the long-since-dead Sandwich Guy.
So Dexter makes a good note of Trinity's face as he un-shields. He also finds out he's in room 407, so it's off to the races. Dex flies up the stairwell, but the door is locked. Back downstairs, Harry teacher's-pets that, since the elevators aren't moving, Trin's taking the stairs. But which stairwell? He can't risk guessing wrong, so he heads outside to try to head him off. Unfortunately, Trinity drives off from the parking garage below street level. Dexter somehow manages to get into his car in time to follow Trinity's van, and the chase is on.
"No way I lose you again, Trinity," Dexter voices-over as he follows him through Miami's seedier neighborhoods. "He's scurrying back to whatever hole he crawled out of," Harry sneers. I'm digging how angry Harry's been ever since Deb got shot. Dex obsessively stares down the "lone wolf's" van, as he mentally imagines slicing him up real good. But the van just...keeps going. Out of the slums and onto the highway. Dexter keeps following, but he's clearly puzzled that he's being led to...what is this, the suburbs? "He doesn't belong here," Dexter says, confused, as Trinity pulls into the driveway of a comfortable-looking upper-middle-class abode.
Dex pulls out his syringe and starts following Trinity to his front door, but he has to stop short. Greeting the man who Dex just saw hammer a man's skull in is a pretty young woman who seems an awful lot like a wife. And through the front window, Dex spots a pair of kids. Are we all feeling the juxtaposition? Are we letting it sink in? Lundy was wrong, Dexter says to himself. Trinity's not a lone wolf after all. He's got a family. Just like Dexter.