All language subtitles for iZombie.S01E02.720p.BluRay.x264.300MB-Pahe.in

My name is Liv Moore, and I died, sort of.

I had a promising career and a great fiance

Then I went to the world's worst boat
party and got turned into a zombie.

Now I work at the morgue
for access to brains,

but brain eating has side effects.

I take on the victim's personality traits

and have visions which I use
to help solve their murders.

I work with a detective
who thinks I'm a psychic

and my boss, the medical examiner,

the only person who knows my secret.

I'm a crime-fighting zombie.

Previously on iZombie...

Are you sure about being the only one?

It's one of the things
that keeps me up at night.

That zombie, haunting my dreams,

he's out there.

I'm saying it would be nice
if just once he would call.

You know how he is when he's working.

No sense of time.

Javier?

You missed a great dinner.

Lola!

Do you want subtitles for any video?
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Cause of death...

I assume we're going
with drowning, correct?

So, he was a well-known artist?

Javier Abano?

Oh, his paintings are very popular.

Who doesn't love

a vibrant, abstract nude?

Hint, she eats brains.

It looks like he was
just trying to show off

how many different
colors of paint he owned.

Oh, I love his work.

I particularly enjoy the one

that looks like a bright blue jacksy.

But I like my art provocative
with a tinge of whimsy.

Okay, that's enough for
now. Okay, Detective?

Also, blue is my favorite color.

And I'm a bit of an arse man.

Overshare, right?

Got anything for me?

Well...

Based on the stiffness of the jaw and neck,

I'd put the time of death
between 6:00 and 7:00 P.M.

No defense wounds. No
physical signs of struggle.

It's a straight shot
from the orbital cavity

to the carotid artery so
death was likely instantaneous.

Like pushing an off button.

Well, stabbing an off button

that's located behind someone's eye,

using the handle of a paintbrush.

I'll know more when I get
him back to the morgue.

And what about you?

Anything you'd like to share?

Is the crime scene inspiring, you
know, any otherworldly communications

or conjurings or what have you?

Wow. You're really a flip
to the last page of the book

type guy, huh?

You've been detecting for five minutes.

Oh, I know who did it.

It's the wife.

You think it was that sobbing woman

crumbling to pieces on the patio?

She has an alibi, but it's always the wife.

Unless the wife is the dead one.

Then it's the husband.

I was just hoping something
sparked your sixth sense,

so we can expedite things.

Sorry. No sparking.

Detective,

we're going to have to remove the paint
brush in order to get him in the bag, so...

I got it.

I'll check back in later.

This fake psychic thing

is going to bite me in the ass when he
starts asking me for lottery numbers.

Fresh brains, anyone?

My need to feed on brains is weird,

but how many people can say
that satisfying their munchies

could potentially help solve a murder case?

This is my contribution to society.

Better?

Much.

I'm just a fake, psychic
zombie trying to do her part.

I was going to rename this
"Major's Excuse to Come Over,"

but I'm trying to
maintain an air of mystery.

No, but seriously, I
figured after six months

you were probably really missing
your tiny face-sander thing

and that magnifying mirror that
makes pores look like manholes.

Thanks for leaving that behind, by the way.

You didn't need to do this.

No, it's mostly just hair
products and lingerie,

but there's some books.

Oh, and this...

Which might explain some things.

I'm thinking maybe this
calls for a road trip.

I'm just, I'm just kidding around, Liv.

I know.

Yeah, well, I didn't know
what to do with this stuff.

It felt weird to throw it out.

I mean, what if you had
an emotional attachment

to this textbook on rare skin diseases?

Well, thanks for bringing it by.

"Not Zooey Deschanel" in 7B
took my parking spot again.

There is nothing more annoying than
an entitled chick in a skater dress.

Oh, hi. Hey.

Should I not be here?

No, I, uh, I was just heading out.

I, uh, I also have an entire
closet full of engagement gifts,

so just let me know if you want anything,

other than the panini press which
I have already used and broken,

and re-purchased.

Oh, we'll take the juicer.

I'll, uh, I'll drop it off this week.

Wait, didn't you register
for a nespresso machine?

I can't believe you just asked
Major for our engagement juicer.

Like letting him keep the small
appliances is going to change

the fact that you broke his heart.

He probably shouldn't come by here.

Why? Because it's too hard?

What does that tell you?

Want to grab a bite?

What's more meta than a zombie
having a bad zombie dream?

No luck in my search for
mystery zombie number two.

Unless you count my nightmares.

I've searched Instagram
accounts of survivors,

I've been through all the photos
on the Facebook pages of everyone

who was listed as being at the party.

Maybe you should take a break.

You know, chill out. Clear your mind.

Here.

"Hotter Sex Tonight. Five Easy Steps."

I stole it from the dentist's office.

Unless step one is

"forget that you might turn your loved
one into a zombie and just have at it,"

this is not the article for me.

It's why I can't have the man

I planned on spending my life with

doing drop-bys.

It hurts too much.

Oh, God.

Someone's here.

Is that shock at sex tip four?

'Cause I didn't understand it either.

Javier was having an affair.

It was pretty hot.

So during this vision,

did Javier happen to
call out the girl's name?

No. He just called her his sugar flower,

or his honey goddess.

Both sound better in Spanish.

She mostly talked about God.

And you didn't see who walked in on them?

No, but it was at the loft

because I recognized the
chaise in Javier's work space.

They were on top of it.

At one point, she suddenly arched her back,

like some higher power was pulling
her chest towards the heavens.

Her skin was like butter,

and the way she moved...

Okay, I think I get it.

It was like watching a flower bloom.

Very helpful. Thank you.

Arching, blooming,

then someone came in that you didn't see,

but was probably Lola.

I didn't say that.

No. You gave me Fifty Shades of Psychic

and no vital details.

Look, he was having an affair.

His wife caught him.

Like I said, it's always the spouse.

I'm going to head over
and question her again.

You feel like joining me?

Maybe you'll have another vision.

Hopefully one that's less
late-night premium cable.

She's a bit more calm right now, but...

It's going to be a long road.

Lola,

Detective Babineaux is here.

I'm going to take off.

You call me if you need anything.

That's sugar flower.

From my vision.

With the buttery skin.

Sorry to interrupt you, Mrs. Abano.

I had a few more questions.

Of course. And it's Lola, please.

And this is my dear friend Tasha.

She's my favorite of
all of Javier's lovers.

Artie and I wound up eating without
Javier all the time when he was working.

He'd just get lost painting,

or not want to stop if it was going well.

He was at the mercy of his creative flow.

Sounds like you were at
the mercy of it as well.

I never minded.

I just wanted him to feel free
to do whatever he needed to do.

I respected his process.

The other women, were
they a part of his process?

Asking Javier to sleep with one
woman for the rest of his life

would be like

asking him to paint those little
seascapes on the novelty spoons

they sell at the pier.

He had a way of, like, discovering people,

and then sort of revealing
them to themselves.

That is really beautiful.

Seriously, he sounds amazing.

The other women were not an issue.

I knew who Javier was with

and what he was getting
out of the relationship.

He knew all about my dalliances.

Nobody got hurt.

It's not like we had
children to worry about.

Javier never wanted any.

His paintings were his babies.

Yeah, right. So,

it didn't bother you that his babies

were nude paintings of the
women he was sleeping with?

No.

It bothers me that you're being dismissive

about my husband's art and our marriage.

Monogamy was not important to us.

What Javier and I had
was beyond the physical.

How is it incriminating to say
she didn't care who he slept with?

Uh, she cared.

That's just something they say.

Of course, I might've been
paying closer attention than you.

You seemed a little distracted.

Plus, it's always the spouse.

Huh.

What?

An e-mail from your boss.

The paintbrush/murder weapon

was thrust into Mr. Abano's eye socket

at an angle consistent with a
right-handed killer who was 6'2" or 6'3".

Does that mean Javier had two wives?

Because Lola is around my height, right?

So, if it's always the spouse,

maybe it was wife number
two that's the tall one.

Wait!

I'm being totally serious now.

If you find a pair of foot-high
stilettos in Lola's closet,

can you ask her where she got them?

Liv, you're here. Fantastic.

This is Jimmy.

He is a police sketch artist.

I happened to run into
him at the commissary,

and we got to talking and...

Well, I mentioned your
issue trying to locate

a certain blonde gentleman.

I had a pretty substantial missed
connection myself back in '05.

I'd be married today if those
subway doors didn't close

before I could get her number.

Huh.

Okay. So, any defining features?

His lips were thin,

but there was substance to them.

They kind of grew from his mouth,

like a secret he couldn't keep.

So, thin lips...

But expressive.

In that they seemed to be working

at not expressing anything.

Mmm-hmm.

There was something
historic about his chin.

I think the nose needs to be more alert.

I thought you said it was soft and gradual,

like a sand hill.

But with an alertness.

Like the whole bridge is working towards

getting down to the point.

You need to see the foundation.

Oh. The foundation.

Got it. Great.

Okay.

See you later.

Am I right in assuming this is a new skill?

You said you were with Lola at the orchard
restaurant from 6:00 P.M. to 9:30 P.M.,

when you walked her back to
the loft and discovered Javier.

Mmm-hmm.

Three and a half hours is a
pretty long time for dinner.

Not really.

We spent a big chunk of the
time waiting for Javier to show.

I'm not just Javier's art dealer.

We have all been friends for years.

And how close are you and Lola?

Very close.

She's one of my dearest friends.

Hmm.

Nothing more than that. Not ever.

She's totally devoted to Javier.

Yeah, she did mention having

dalliances outside of the marriage.

Dalliances?

With whom?

She didn't give any names.

Sorry, I'm having trouble processing that.

Javier was her entire universe.

Lola loved him unconditionally,

while Javier slept with
every model in Seattle.

You don't sound like a
very big fan of your client.

Oh, I was a huge fan.

Some of the best times of
my life were with Javier.

He was a brilliant artist.

Not a great husband.

How tall are you, Mr. Fiss?

You know, instead of grilling his friend,

maybe take a look at one of
the countless jilted boyfriends

of the girls Javier slept with.

Thanks for the tip.

Now, are you going to answer my question

or do I need to go get a ruler?

I'm 6'2".

Thank you.

In elementary school,

I could barely trace my
hand to draw a Turkey.

Well, when you finish, I'll send it
out to the boat massacre survivors.

You know, maybe someone will recognize him.

Why do we own this?

Because we saw it in the check-out line

at Home, Hearth and Everything Else

and it had the same
color blue as our pillows.

It's horrible.

Since when did you become an art critic?

The one and only time we've
ever gone to a museum together

was on our senior trip to Paris

when we race-walked through the Louvre

because it was raining and
we wanted to do some cardio.

That's so awful.

No, it wasn't awful. It was fun.

In the six months I've been eating brains,

I've inherited things like

a fear of pigeons, kleptomania...

A couple scoops of Javier's
brain in a microwave pizza roll

and I find myself feeling passionate,

inspired.

I'm not just drawn to beauty,

I want to possess it, make love to it.

I walk into a room and I see everything.

Heard you were looking for me.

just so we're on the same page here...

Your skin and hair
being the color of chalk,

that isn't a style choice, right?

It isn't.

Oh.

And I have no idea where you got this,

but it's totally my new profile pic.

So.

What do you want with me?

I wanted to meet you.

Because?

Because I had a vision of you as a zombie,

chasing a man through an alley.

You were about to rip open his skull.

He was killed in a DUI
accident, wound up here.

I ate his brain.

Until the vision, I
thought I was the only one.

Yeah, until, like, three
seconds ago, so did I.

Getting your brains on the
job. That's well-played.

Well, how do you get your brains?

Oh, I get mine the hardest way possible.

I grave-rob.

Super fun.

I should have gone into medicine.

I mean, come on.

Look at this.

Oh, uh...

That guy you saw me chase in the vision?

He tried to mug me, just so you know.

He came at me, so I raged out or whatever.

What are you calling that, by the way?

The big turn?

It's not like I've been
mentioning it in conversation,

but I think of it as raging out.

I don't know if we should
agree on some terminology, or...

I guess I call it zombie mode.

Really? Aren't we already
kind of in zombie mode?

Well, actually, I call
it full-on zombie mode.

Huh.

So, is raging out at all
interesting to you, or...

You know what, never
mind. It doesn't matter.

Uh, the guy tried to mug me, and
I went into full-on zombie mode

and, yeah...

Before I knew it, sirens were blaring

and I'm still about to crack this guy's head
open for just the tiniest taste of brain,

which is the single most
disgusting thing a person can eat.

That it is.

It's the consistency that kills me.

I can't get around it. And
there's that weird metallic taste.

Is it metallic? I don't even know.

I used to be a serious wine guy.

Like, Sideways crazy about it.

And now everything I drink is like iodine.

I saw a kid eating a
peanut butter cup last week

and I almost cried.

I miss food so much.

I miss so many things.

Who knew death would be
this isolating, right?

You really nailed the historic chin.

Bravo.

Thrilled to have you here.

And if you haven't used the facilities yet,

a urine sample would be lovely.

I have zero clue as to
how this happened to me.

Granted I was super high
the night of the boat party.

It is so crazy to be talking about this.

Would you mind if I check inside your ears?

Brother, you do what you gotta to do.

I'll drop trou if you
think you can cure this.

So how did you become a zombie?

Did it happen the night of the boat party?

Yes. It happened at the boat party.

You tried to sell me
Utopium, smacked my ass,

and went all rage zombie
and clawed my forearm.

No, seriously?

Oh, my God.

I can't even...

- Are you sure it was me?
- Yes.

Because things must've been
pretty crazy that night.

I'm sure.

How do I even apologize
for something like that?

I swear to God, if I wasn't
95% sure I would survive,

I would throw myself
off a bridge right now.

I would be...

I'm so sorry.

I never meant to hurt you.

Calm down, now.

We're all adults here.

Now I've ruined something you love.

Did you just...

Where'd you go?

There's something I gotta take care of.

You should get going.

Oh, Liv, I can finish up.

Ah!

She doesn't want to
leave you alone with me.

Fair enough.

Excuse me.

I'm not sure that was necessary.

Neither am I.

It wasn't Lola who caught
Javier and Tasha fooling around.

It was Tasha's jealous boyfriend.

A jealous boyfriend, huh?

Artie may have been trying to
deflect attention away from himself,

but it's a lead worth following up.

There he is. Tasha's ex.

The one with the gleaming crystal eyes

and the mouth that looks like
it just finished eating a peach.

How about you just tell me
what color shirt he's wearing?

Cerulean.

What were you doing on Tuesday
between the hours of 6:00 and 7:00?

I was at home. Alone.

How did that happen?

How tall are you, Mr. Rivera?

I'm 6'3".

When did you first learn about...

Can I just ask a question?

Do you have a little native
American in your ancestry

'cause those cheekbones...

Miss Moore!

Oh. Sorry.

I'm a quarter Cherokee.

Yeah, you are.

Do I need to ask you to leave?

When did you first learn about
your girlfriend and Javier?

Ex-girlfriend.

And I don't remember.

You don't remember discovering
your girlfriend cheating on you?

I don't like to dwell on things.

Besides, she got what was coming to her.

Javier dumped her a few months
ago for a younger version.

That's the kind of guy she left me for.

Someone who'll bang his best
friend's 18-year-old daughter.

Artie?

His manager's daughter?

Yeah. Becca.

It's a not-too-well-kept
secret around the art community.

But you didn't hear it from me.

You gotta let me buy you a drink.

I need something in the win column today.

I think you need to set
the bar a little bit higher.

Buying somebody a drink doesn't
seem like much of an accomplishment.

That depends on how many guys
you turned down before I got here.

So...

What brings you here to drink alone

and stare off into the top-shelf
liquor on this fine evening?

Let's just say life takes
some surprising turns.

Doesn't it, though?

If someone were to tell me a year ago

that my life would be like it is today,

I would've punched him in the face.

Listen,

you're incredibly charming,

but the age difference
isn't something I'm into.

Well, that is a shame.

Because I am lonely as
hell and the idea of trying

to have a conversation
with some 25-year-old

as she swipes through tinder,

makes me want to impale
myself on that bar tap.

Well, there's no reason why
we can't have a nice chat.

Sure there is.

Come on in.

Um...

Hey, pod person who's
taken over Liv's body,

you really should've done some homework

because no one is going to buy this.

Hey.

Sorry. I was kind of in
the zone or something.

Hi.

Hi.

I would literally be less
surprised to come in here

and find you building a rocket ship.

It's a new hobby.

This coming from the girl who said

hobbies were for people
under 12 or over 65.

When did I say that?

Repeatedly. Over the
course of several years.

But I think you were just
trying to talk me out of

making my own outdoor furniture,

which I still think I'd
be kind of awesome at.

And, I'm sorry, are you
listening to Chet Baker?

Is that who this is? I am loving him.

You're what?

I tried to get you to
listen to jazz for years.

I spent weeks strategically
arranging the perfect mix CD for you

and you stopped listening after two songs.

I think this is the CD.

You said you thought the lack
of structure was narcissistic

and you'd rather listen to
someone dropping cutlery.

Why was I such a jerk?

Who knows?

It was just one of the
many things I accepted

because you're super-hot.

I'm kidding,

to a degree.

If you're really liking this CD,

I have a bunch of stuff on
vinyl I could record for you.

I'd love that.

You're amazing.

I should get going.

I was just dropping off the juicer.

There but for the grace of God, right?

Missed you at the zombie social last night.

We were all there cracking
wise, singing some karaoke.

And I went with Tears of a Clown

because that's kind of
where I am right now.

Where's the good doctor?

He's out on a call.

I wasn't going to eat him.

You understand why I'm not
ready to kiss and make up, right?

Yeah. I get it.

I turned you into a zombie,

you saw me almost kill a guy.

I'm not the same person I was
the night of the boat party.

At least I'm trying not to be.

It's not like I'm ladling
out soup or saving puppies,

but I'm actively trying
not to be a sleazebag.

Because I was a sleazebag.

I'm not dealing anymore,

much to the chagrin of my former employer.

And I've cut all the poisonous
people out of my life,

who were apparently the only
kind of people in my life,

so it's just me now.

Why are you telling me this?

Who the hell else am I gonna tell it to?

Plus, I need your help.

Look, I get that you work
here at the brain automat,

but for the rest of us, meaning me,

procuring brains is kind of
a massive undertaking. So...

I was hoping, from time to time,

you might be so inclined
as to help a brother out.

Okay.

Jeez.

That pause was like a year.

I can't just hand brains
over in the police morgue.

I'll have to meet up with you later.

Of course. I hang out at the
dog-friendly Internet caf� on Queen Anne,

Mutt Bowl Surfers.

I'll be there all afternoon
just writing my screenplay

live-tweeting its progress.

All right.

I'll come by later.

Thank you.

Hutch!

Dougie!

What brings you to this
fair part of the city?

Boss is looking for you.

He wonders where you've been.

Why don't you tell him I'll come
by the club tomorrow night, huh?

He wants to see you now.

Yeah, now's not so good for me.

Are you really going to make
Hutch get out of the car?

All right. All right.

Let's calm down, shall we?

Quit stalling. I want
your ass in the car, now!

Well, it seems that our wants
are at odds right now, Dougie.

You see, I want to attend
to my business right now

and I want to not go with
you to a second location.

And I have to be honest with you,

I'm feeling a little threatened here,

and I find that disconcerting

'cause I thought we were homies.

Hutch?

You gonna help me out here, brah, or...

No?

Okay, I'll tell you what.

Why don't you meet me here tomorrow...

"I've changed.

I've cut all the poisonous
people out of my life."

get in the car

you can either get in on your own or
hutch can wad you up into a little ball

and throw you in.

Crazy what happened on the lake.

The way you disappeared,
everyone thought you was dead.

Well... they were half right.

Boss thinks that batch must've
been cut with something lethal.

He thinks you might've been
the one who did the cutting.

Come on.

Is thinking really his strong suit?

But don't worry,

when I'm running this city,
I won't make the same mistake.

Yeah, and what mistake is that?

Underestimating the little guy.

you changed your hair.

That was a joke.

Can I come in?

Would you look at this place?

You've done very well.

Who knew there was so much
money in trend-spotting?

You must be very good.

What's happening to me?

Oh, yeah, that.

Sorry. I buried the lead.

You're a zombie now.

Like, for real.

I know. Shock. Disbelief. Confusion.

Welcome to team Z.

Oh, you're the trend-spotter,
I should ask you.

Zombies...

I heard we're finito.
Is that, is that true?

Has over-saturation buried us?

I don't know. I think we're
gonna surprise some people.

I mean, what did LL Cool J say?

"Don't call it a comeback," right?

But before you get to despair, Jackie,

allow me to ease your mind.

For a mere 25k a month,

I've got the brains you need
to keep all your pistons firing.

Sure, you'll need frequent spray tans

and a considerably better colorist
to do something with that hair,

but other than that,

Death's gonna be swell.

Did I mention this batch is super fresh?

Uh-uh.

First rule of brain club,

you don't talk about brain club.

There are some things worse than death.

Tina?

Will you bring my checkbook?

So, I was wondering

if you happened to exchange
numbers with our new zombie friend.

I wanted to see if he can
come in for more tests.

I don't think that's a good idea.

Under your supervision, of course.

And know that I do appreciate
you being protective of me.

I think he's a liar.

And a phay. And I think he's
just using me for my brains.

Well, their brains.

But if he's the only other one, I...

I don't know, Ravi. I
don't know what to do.

I don't trust him. I think he's dangerous.

Hey.

I was wondering if you're free tonight?

There's a posthumous art show
for Javier's work at his loft.

I was hoping you could join
me and see if you get anything.

Of course.

I got some very helpful
information from the waitress

who waited on Artie and
Lola the night of the murder.

She said Artie left the
restaurant to go to an ATM.

Artie attempted to withdraw just down
the street from Javier's and Lola's loft.

It was at 6:45 P.M.,

which puts him in close proximity to Javier

and without an alibi during the window
you gave me for the time of the murder.

What do you mean, "attempted"?

Oh, he wasn't able to take out any
cash because he doesn't have any.

It goes beyond insufficient funds.

The man is broke.

He's basically living off credit cards.

Why would Lola cover for him?

I plan on asking her that
very question tonight.

This art show...

I should probably come as well.

In case you need help with
the art and the open bar.

And possibly the models.

Yeah.

You can have it, doc.

Don't mind if I do.

I absolutely loved the first painting,

but who has that kind of money?

The instant Javier died

the price of his paintings
started going through the roof.

Even his older work is
almost triple the price.

The best thing an artist can
do for their career is die.

Dying is also the best thing an artist
can do for his broke-ass art dealer.

I'm going to look for our hostess.

Let me know if you get anything.

So, what is it that you actually do?

Do you just stand there, or...

Oh, should I find some
personal items for you to touch?

I kind of just walk around
and hope something happens.

It sounds kind of lame
now that I say it out loud.

No, it doesn't. Mmm-mmm.

No. You're on a quest

for visions. A vision quest, if you will.

Stop enjoying yourself. It's unseemly.

Detective Babineaux. I
didn't know you'd be coming.

Well, I had a follow-up question.

I'm wondering

why you never mentioned that Artie left
you at the restaurant to go to the ATM.

I guess I forgot.

How long was Artie gone?

I don't remember.

Not long. Twenty minutes?

Twenty minutes?

And how long of a walk is it
from the restaurant to your loft?

About five?

You're a detective, right?

I'm sorry?

I saw you come in with
those other two detectives.

Well, technically,

I do work for the Seattle
Police Department...

My ex-boyfriend is here
and he's not supposed to be.

Okay.

I have a restraining order.

He's not allowed within
50 yards of me ever.

I'd leave, but I...

No, no, no, you shouldn't leave.

No, you should stay right here

and we'll get this sorted out.

Can you, uh, point him out for me?

Javier not only left his art behind,

he left a part of himself.

If I'd never come back
from the lake that night,

what would my loved ones have?

Would my mom frame old report cards?

Marvel over extra-credit projects?

I thought I saw you sneak in here.

I don't know if it's ironic

or just brilliant,

but Javier would've loved you.

And now he'll never get to
lay a hand on you, will he?

I've been thinking about you

ever since our interrogation.

I've heard of bad-cop, good-cop before,

but bad-cop, horny-cop was a first.

How about we go grab
a drink with the others

and you can tell me all
about how I objectified you?

I think I'd rather have you all to myself.

Oh, Becca. My darling girl.

A boy, Javier. We're having a son.

Tito, I should explain something to you.

I'm not the kind of girl
you wanna mess around with.

I want to mess around with you.

It's a good one.

Mr. Fiss.

Congratulations.

Excuse me?

Well, looks like you're having a big night.

Javier's paintings selling for
three times their previous value.

What's your cut?

And here I thought you were an art lover.

I'm disappointed.

Oh, no, no, no. I love art.

On a policeman's salary, it is kind
of tough to keep up my collection.

But I do have that one Vermer.

Mmm. Vermeer.

Excuse me, Detective. I'm
gonna go somewhere you're not.

The extra cash has gotta help pay
off some of those debts of yours.

And maybe now you can get 20
bucks from an ATM when you need it.

You seem to be suggesting
I killed Javier for money.

He was my friend, Detective.

You were in love with his wife.

I believe Lola deserved better.

Maybe you killed him because he
knocked up your teenage daughter.

What did you say?

Javier was like an Uncle to Becca.

Yeah, there was love
there, but it wasn't...

Oh, come on. You expect us
to believe you didn't know?

Did Javier seem like the Uncle type to you?

You found out that your best friend
was going to be your son-in-law,

and it was a bridge too far.

You snapped.

Stop!

Hold that position!

The angle of the brush, it had to be
swung from above Javier by someone taller,

but if Javier was on the bottom step...

He stumbles backwards four or five paces

and the blood splatter hits these steps.

The killer could've been Liv's size.

Are you sure about this pregnancy?

Lola, you told me Javier
never wanted children.

You never mentioned whether or not you did.

You weren't covering for
your friend Artie, were you?

Artie was covering for you.

The waitress at the restaurant
wasn't sure what time you arrived,

only that Artie left to go to an ATM.

You killed Javier before
you even got there.

You found out he was going to have the baby

and start the family he never had with you.

You knew about this?

And you didn't tell me?

And 20 minutes ago,

Lola confided in me that
you left the restaurant

long enough to commit the murder.

Detective.

- I did not...
- Lola! Stop!

When I got back from
the ATM, there you were,

30 minutes late and
practically hyperventilating.

Remember?

I reached up with my napkin

to wipe what I thought was
red paint from your cheek.

When we found Javier
dead, I knew it was you.

And you somehow knew I would cover for you.

You used me.

He was leaving me to start a family

with an 18-year-old girl.

Lola Abano,

you have the right to remain silent.

Anything you say can and will be
used against you in a court of law.

You little albino tease!
Look what you did to me!

There's a second pair of cuffs in my car.

You mind grabbing them for me?

I guess you were right.

It's always the wife.

Javier's brain shows me a view
of the world that's brighter,

more vibrant.

I can't let Lola diminish that view.

I'm not ready to go back to
a world without that light.

I want this feeling to last.

I want to leave something more
than impressive report cards

to remember me by.

There is so much beauty in the world.

And that's all that matters.

Inspiration. Love.

The heart wants what it wants.

Who are we to deny it?

Apparently, that mix CD was a gateway drug.

I'm going to need a more substantial fix.

Oh, uh... okay.

Come on in.

Did you want me to lend you something or...

I want you to come sit with me.

Are you drunk?

I just want to be here with you.

Let's hang out.

You want to hang out?

Am I gonna come over there or
are you gonna come over here?

I just think that you're
being really weird right now.

Come

sit with me.

I can't take another second
of not being close to you.

I just can't.

What the hell, Liv?

You can't take not being close to me?

Since when?

You've been icing me out for six months.

I did everything

to try to get just one moment of anything
even remotely affectionate from you.

You gave me nothing.

The day I came to drop off your stuff

you could barely look me in the eye.

And now you can't take
not being close to me?

You need to go.

- Major...
- No, just go, all right?

The passionate mind is selfish.

It's so focused on what it desires,

reason becomes background noise.

Javier's brain made me cross the
line that divides what I long for

and what I can never have.

There were so many nights
I could have been with Major

that I stayed home studying.

Days I could have spent

sucking the marrow out of life,

I spent building a r�sum�
for a life I'd never have.

There were parts of me that were
dead even before I became a zombie.

So maybe that means it's possible
for parts of me to spring to life,

even now that I'm dead.

- synced and corrected by kategreen -
- www.addic7ed.com -

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