Dexter's testing different blood cast-off patterns with power tools in a big white room. "No memory flashes here. No little lost boy in blood. Maybe he went back to hiding in the dormant reaches of my cerebral cortex. Here's to hoping." Man, that looks like fun. Rudy walks in from behind one of the white sheets of paper covered in blood. "Yo, Dex!" "Hey!" "So, this is what you do for a living." Dexter explains that he's trying to match castoff patterns, blah blah. "Here's your phone." Rudy mentions that in his line of work, he hears a lot of horror stories. "This seems like something you'd see with a chainsaw." "I hear that, but this power tool was plugged into a socket." "Guess you haven't heard of an electric chainsaw," says Rudy like a know-it-all, which he is, because...he did it. What's his deal? How is he connected to Dexter? He must have something to do with these flashbacks Dexter's having about the boy in the blood.
"Come on, people, we're coming up empty," says a displeased Doakes. "Those numbers mean something: one, zero, three." Deb looks over and sees Dexter and Rudy shooting the shit by the elevators as Doakes continues to explain the importance of the numbers like a madman. She gets an annoyed look on her face.
Now Deb's in Dex's blood spatter room, and Dexter asks what she's doing there when he enters. "How do you always do it?" "Do what?" "Make me feel like I'm six years old all the time?" Whoa, Deb. That's your bullshit, not his. "If this is about Rudy, he was just picking up his cell phone." Deb gives him the third degree about why he had Rudy's phone in the first place and is a general buttwipe about the whole thing. Dexter tells her they were just having steaks and beers. "And...?" "Talking." "Talking. You talked." Yeah, they fucking talked, Deb. "On the same night that I wanted to talk to you, but you shut me out." Oh. "Oh." "Yeah, 'Oh.' You don't talk to me, Dex," she says, starting to whimper a little. She goes on to say that she's his sister, but she barely knows him at all, and that if anyone gets the privilege of his company, it should be her. Dexter cuts the conversation short by pointing out that he's late for Rita's deposition, and Deb shakes her head like the selfish little asshole she is. "Deb, it's hard for me. You know that." She just walks out without a word, making me hate her even more.