LaGuerta walks up and says, "Excuse me." She hands them both flyers with Doakes's picture on them, and says, "Um, donations can be made directly to me." "Donations?" asks Deb, looking at the flyer. "For Sergeant Doakes's memorial service." "You've gotta be kidding," says Angel. "It's what we do for a fellow officer," says LaGuerta firmly, and she walks away. Deb follows her, and says, "Excuse me, Lieutenant? I was wondering..." "Checks, payable to cash." "Actually, I just wanted to offer my support, or sympathy...whatever the fuck. If you wanna talk." "Thank you, Morgan. I can manage." "I'm not so sure," says Deb. "I mean, you're collecting money to honor a killer." "I'm not honoring the Butcher, I'm honoring James Doakes." "Respectfully, Maria, that's denial." "So it is." "You're choosing to be in denial?" "Conscious denial. The case is closed, I'm not going to pursue it. But, I knew James. I knew him as a partner and as a friend, and I have to keep on believing that that is who he was, because if he could hide all that other fucked-up shit, then I don't think I could ever..." "Trust anyone again?" Deb offers. "That's right." "Or yourself?" Maria nods. "I'll leave a check in your office," says Deb. Interesting scene. I feel really bad for Maria.

Dexter's packing up his murderin' tools, VOing, "It's strange to have a creation out there, a deeply mutated version of yourself, running loose and screwing everything up." Really, dude? She kind of completely saved your ass. "I wonder if this is how parents feel." Dex heads out.