Anyway, Rita says, "Oh my God, why didn't I see this? They were your drugs. Now it makes sense." Dexter looks both terrified and relieved. "That's where you disappear to at all hours of the night like Clark fucking Kent." Actually, I'm pretty sure Superman doesn't really do drugs, although I'm sure he could and he wouldn't feel anything, because he's awesome! "Look," says Rita, laying down the law, "if there is anything left between us, you will answer this one question, and you will tell me the truth: are you an addict?" Dexter takes his time, slowly realizing that, while not ideal, this confession could tie up this loose end easier than if he confessed to being a killer. "Yes, I have an addiction." Rita cries a little, and tells Dexter that they're going to get him the help he needs, and that she'll be there every step of the way. Jesus. The poor guy doesn't wear enough masks, now he has to wear an addict mask, too? What a life.
Deb is punching the speed bag at the gym, and it seems like she's crying, all in slow-motion. Dex VOs, "If the eyes are the windows to the soul, then grief is the door. As long as it's closed, it's the barrier between knowing and not knowing." Damn, she's pounding the shit out of that thing! Now Dexter's closing up all his files on his laptop. There goes Beef Bus, and the Gulf Stream. "Walk away from it, and it stays closed forever. Open it, and walk through it, and pain becomes truth." He closes his laptop and heads out of the lab, walking towards the elevators. "Now I'm faced with the struggle for my own survival that I always knew was coming." He passes Lundy in the hall, and they give each other The Head Nod Of Male Recognition And Bro-ness. Dex gets into the elevator. "I've been preparing for this my entire life."
At home, Dexter puts the Beef slide into its new home. "When all is said and done, Chino, you're the same size as everyone else." Deb starts pounding on the front door. Dex quickly puts his slides in their air-conditioned spot, and gets the door, which he's chained shut. "It's annoying, isn't it?" he says. "I'm not taking the bait," she replies irritatedly. "You been at the gym?" he asks. "No, I've been sort of driving around." "Around what?" "I saw some buildings with 'For Rent' signs. I'm going to check 'em out," she says, once again leaving the OJ bottle on the counter. Noticing Dexter's glare, she grabs it before he can: "Then Chez Dexter can return to its semi-lived-in, museum-quality state." After a pause, Dex says, "Deb, you don't need to do this." "Yes, I do." Dex convinces her that she can stay longer if she wants, because now he's the really vulnerable one, even though he can't say it without revealing himself. "You sure?" Deb asks. "No, get out." Ha! Finally. They share a laugh, and embrace as Dex VOs, "This way, I can take care of my sister the way Harry would have wanted." Dexter takes a whiff of Deb's smelly, gymmed-out ass, and says, "You really reek." "You're right, I smell like a fucking sewer," she says, and heads to the bathroom, where she slams the door. She opens it again, and pointedly shuts it more quietly to appease the master of the house. "For every door that closes..." Dex VOs. "It was always right there."