Original subtitles

WWW.MY-SUBS.COM

- Synced and corrected by Firefly - - www.MY-SUBS.com -

Previously on Doom Patrol...

How often does he come see them?

Niles? Not very.

So he just abandoned them?

Like broken toys?

Why would he send me here?

Why would he wanna abandon me too?

'Cause I think that's what Mr. Nobody

really wants, is for you to give up.

That's why he sent you here.

See what happens to those who cross him.

Cyborg didn't even realize he'd left his arm cannon charging.

Goodbye, Victor Stone.

... enabled your privacy mode.

I won't be listening in anymore.

For the last 60 years, I decided that Rita Farr

was someone who deserved to be punished.

Rita Farr is empty and ugly.

I don't wanna be those things anymore.

I see everyone I've ever loved. Burning.

Have you ever tried communicating this to the spirit?

Perhaps you should give it a try.

I just thought that you should

have the chance to get to know your daughter.

Come on!

Look, we all wanna find the Chief.

To find the Chief we gotta go through Mr. Nobody.

And I think we can all agree if we don't get our shit together

right here, right now,

Mr. Nobody is gonna fuck us.

He's gonna fuck us in our brains,

he's gonna fuck us in our hearts,

he's gonna fuck us in our souls.

Now I don't know what kind of freaky shit your souls are into,

and I'm not one to judge,

but I wanna keep my soul un-fucked.

No? None of you have any issues?

Nothing it wouldn't help to get off your chest?

Well, this is fucking awkward.

_

- _ - It's right around here. Okay. Are you excited?

Oh, please be quiet.

Be quiet. Okay.

Damn it, Frankie,

I said no visitors until we're done shooting this endless coverage.

Yes, Ms. Singer, it's just, um,

this is the Cooke County pageant winner.

Meeting you is the prize.

Nice to meet you.

Please call me Ethel.

We're so grateful. We're such big fans.

Oh, yes, especially her. You're her idol.

- Oh. - She's a little star in the making.

Is that so?

It's been dance classes, voice lessons, acting workshops

ever since she was old enough to coo.

Oh, well, that's a start.

And what about school?

No, no other children to distract her.

She's got pictures in her future.

Mmm.

- Come. - Oh, yeah.

Hmm.

With a face like that she just might.

What's your name, little one?

- My name is... - Uh-uh.

Your stage name, darling.

I'm Rita Farr.

Good morning, Rita. Team meeting in 15.

The hunt for the Chief continues.

I'll be there.

The person who is breathing is me.

The person who is breathing is me.

Shit.

I just have to pull myself together is all.

The person who is breathing is Rita Farr.

The person who is breathing is Rita Farr.

Close enough.

Good morning, Hammerhead.

Ugh. What the fuck is wrong with your neck?

Shit, shit, shit, shit.

Shit!

Help!

Help.

Anyone?

Can anyone hear me?

God damn it!

How many humiliations must I be made to suffer?

Squirming through ducts like some kind of rat.

Please, no rats. No rats.

The person who is breathing is me.

The person with an arm

is me.

Ah!

The person with two arms is me.

Ha!

The person who is sick

of having creepy baby imagery shoved in her face is me.

The person who is sick of being judged is me!

The person who deserves this is me.

Maybe I am just a ball of slime.

Maybe I always was a ball of slime.

Maybe

the real trick is being the best

goddamn ball of slime I can be.

Think I'm disgusting?

I'll show you disgusting!

You think some stairs are going to stop me?

Swallow the whole damn town if I wanted to!

Ha!

You think that's gonna hurt me?

Hmm...

No!

_

Lord help us. What are we going to do?

Quit your hysterics. There's nothing wrong with our boy.

That principal's had it out for Larry since day one.

Gerald, he was caught playing doctor

with Benjamin Quincy behind the swing sets.

I swear, if that woman accuses my son of being a queer...

Oh, please, you know it's true!

The signs are everywhere.

And now your son is going to cost us our standing at school,

at church.

Lord, Gerald, we could lose everything.

Yo, Larry, team meeting in 15.

What do you say we take the day off, buddy?

Sleep in.

Don't get me wrong,

I'm not asking for horrific, face-melting hell dreams.

So maybe you need a rest, too.

That a yes or a no?

I still have no idea what you're trying to tell me.

Oh, this is new.

I remember this day.

It was before the accident.

One of our meet-ups.

All right, fella,

this might not look like torture,

but re-living one of my biggest regrets is hell all the same.

What are we doing here?

Maybe it can be different this time.

What's the point of this thing?

This isn't real. It isn't even accurate.

- Accurate? - Yeah.

Hey, you think you're so smart?

How come all the details are wrong?

This pickup was blue, not green.

Hank Williams was on the radio not whatever this is.

John and I timed our rendezvous to the 6:12 to Tulsa.

Not a train in sight.

Larry.

Maybe you should try just being here.

It's fake. It's all fake.

What's this supposed to be, huh?

Is this the edge of my memory?

I guess you're not all-seeing, are you?

What are you trying to tell me?

Larry?

Uh-huh.

Maybe you should just be here.

Seems I don't have a choice.

You say you love me,

so spend time with me right here,

away from the world.

All right, this can be our stolen moment.

Nice try, pal. Too bad you missed the whole point.

In what alt history does John Bowers advocate

for keeping our relationship a secret?

And memories shouldn't change just because I want a happier ending.

History doesn't change.

I don't change.

I'm still the gaslighting, insecure hypocrite

who ruined other people's lives instead of owning my own shit.

Holy brown shit.

Don't interrupt me.

If we're stuck with each other,

the least you can do is understand me.

Okay.

We may share memories,

but you have no idea how hard it was living this way.

The lies,

the fear.

The threat of losing everything

if anyone so much as questioned my sexuality.

You wanna fill in the margins of this nightmare?

Add the flight crew locker room,

the gay jokes echoing off the walls.

Add the two boys found dead and hogtied outside Pendleton.

You wanna know why I couldn't be with John?

You wanna know what's missing from this fantasy?

Fucking context!

Wow.

You have no idea how long I waited to hear those words.

I'm preaching to the choir.

No.

I wanted you to admit it to yourself.

There's just one problem.

You're missing the sunset.

You think that's gonna hurt me?

All right, pal.

You wanna be a hero, go ahead.

I wanna see the sunset.

_

Wiggle for me.

Okay. No broken bones.

It's just dislocated.

I still remember the first time I popped my shoulder.

My old man had me count to ten, and...

Oh!

Oh. All done.

Victor, my man. You took that like a champ.

He's gonna be fine.

I'll go write up a script.

Uh, no horseplay until it's healed.

Okay. Thank you, Doctor.

Of course.

Oh, poor baby. Does it still hurt?

Hey, there's no shame in crying.

It doesn't hurt.

I'm scared.

Of what, honey?

Dad. He told me not to climb the trees.

So you understand why he was worried now?

Well, then,

you know, we don't have to tell your father everything.

How's that sound?

Okay?

Yo, Larry, team meeting in 15.

Good morning, Rita. Team meeting in 15.

The hunt for the Chief continues.

I'll be there.

Cliff? Team meeting in 15.

Good stuff.

Nice to see you, too.

Team meeting in 15.

You're not the Chief.

Grid, what time is it?

Go team.

Match? Grid? Voicemail. Talk to me.

You have one new match on Cazh.

- Cazh? - Cazh is a modern swipe-based dating app.

I know what Cazh is, but why am I getting a notification?

Because a 24-year-old human female named Janice

swiped right on your profile.

Wait, hold up. I don't have a profile.

I mean, I did make one as a joke when I was, like, 18.

You have 266...

267 unread messages.

Why haven't you been notifying me?

Until your recent modifications to our operating system,

all social media notifications

had been filtered by the master user...

- Silas Stone. - Silas Stone.

- They were distractions. - You had no right.

You wanna talk about rights?

You stole my Satkey right out of my pocket.

My Satkey!

And you can have it back.

I re-programmed Grid. I'm a closed system now.

You should be proud of me, Dad. I'm a self-taught hacker.

You still haven't answered me.

What gave you the right to cut me off my own life?

Three weeks after the accident, you still couldn't walk.

You needed more focus, not more noise.

What about the next five years?

Some of the parental controls on your operating system

are in place for your protection.

Parental controls. You know what?

From now on, I'll decide what I can handle.

Vic...

Grid,

run a scan for any sign of Niles Caulder.

Local, national, or...

All data sources in the known universe.

Commencing scan.

Keep it running in the background.

Now pull up Cazh.

'Sup, Janice. That's one lucky beagle.

Oh, my God. You wrote back?

This is Cyborg, right?

Please. Call me Vic.

Okay, Cyborg.

- LOL! - Swipe left.

So you play football, huh?

Yeah, my profile's a little old, though.

LOL. No kidding.

Show me your metal parts.

Nope.

Do you need a sidekick?

Say "Booya." Come on, just say it.

Say, "Booya." It's your thing.

Grid, have I ever said "Booya"?

You have said "Booya" 31 times since the accident.

Well above the threshold for a catchphrase.

Everything is fine.

Everything is fine.

Everything is fine.

Come on, Grid.

Swipe away anybody whose search word includes the word "Cyborg"

or any other meta-human.

Okay. How about Mel?

Hey, girl. Is that a doctor's uniform? 'Cause...

There was no punch line to that, by that way.

I was genuinely asking.

Nice. I'm a med student.

Hey, man, is that a dorky smile? 'Cause...

It's cute.

So, uh, what do you do when you're not saving lives?

Giving myself carpal tunnel from swiping left so much.

Well, I'm glad I made the cut.

What is this?

You wanted to know Mel better.

Hold up, is this...

Is this video live?

Yes. Tapping security camera on city bus 66.

I didn't ask for this.

Not verbally, but your desire was clear.

Since when did you start reading my subconscious?

Since you removed the code throttling my bandwidth.

Send it.

Grid, delete my Cazh profile.

Search for Niles Caulder complete.

- And? - No hits.

However, there is one incoming threat.

- What the hell? - You ruined Clara!

You think that's gonna hurt me?

_

Team meeting in 15.

You're not the Chief!

Good morning, Hammerhead.

Ugh. God, what the fuck is wrong with your neck?

Where do you think you're going?

You know, you tepid twat.

No. No, we're not doing this.

Just go to the meeting, find the Chief,

and he'll explain everything.

Cliff?

What's with the toast?

I'm hungry! Okay?

Can't a guy try to remember what it was like to eat a piece of toast

without being interrogated like a goddamn criminal?

Fuck this place!

The world's a lonely place, Jane.

Made lonelier by how fiercely you push people away.

Hell, you live with 63 flat mates.

You don't even know half their names.

I don't believe in loneliness, Jane.

I believe in connection.

I believe in life.

I believe

you can make those connections, Jane.

Find people who will see you and accept you.

People who will love you

just as you are.

That's what's in it for me, Jane.

The joy of seeing you flourish someday.

And what if I can't?

Then I'll be a father to you just the same.

You trusted him, he made a fool of us.

No!

No, stop it!

This is stupid. This is stupid. This is stupid.

He was gonna put me in a home!

No! No!

Everything is fine. Everything is fine.

Everything is fine.

Fuck you!

No! Stop! Stop!

Stop it!

Oh, God.

You think that's gonna hurt me?

- Cliff! - Careful!

He's going nuts.

Clara! Son of a...

Illiterate...

Cliff, what is wrong with you?

Listen, you stupid bitch.

Hey, I got something...

I bust my ass working every day.

When I come home I expect a clean house

and some decent food!

You call this food?

This is shit! It's shit!

No, get away from me!

I don't know what happened to us.

I'm gonna be better.

I'm gonna be better.

I'm gonna be better.

Yo, Larry, team meeting in 15.

Good morning, Rita. Team meeting in 15.

The hunt for the Chief continues.

I'll be there.

Team meeting in 15.

Good stuff. Um...

Nice to see you, too.

Team meeting in 15.

You're not the Chief.

Fuck this.

Fuck this.

Fuck it. Fucking... Fucking hole.

Fuck. Fucking hole.

Fucking Bump.

Fuck you, Bump. Fucking take every goddamn thing away from me!

Fuck this shit!

Yum, yum, yum!

I'll not eat when I fucking want to!

Whoa!

Whoa! What in the shit are you?

Tell me you don't recognize my voice,

you back-stabbing shit stain.

- Say something else. - It's Cliff fucking Steele.

Cliff? No, that can't be. Cliff's dead.

Where's Clara? Where's my daughter?

Okay, you're Cliff. You're Cliff. I get it.

What the hell are you doing in a robot?

What the hell are you doing calling yourself Clara's dad?

How'd you brainwash her?

Well, shit, you were dead!

So you took my place?

Of all the low life back-stabbing shit...

Hey, now. You died, man.

And you took Kate with you.

That little girl had nothing and no one.

Besides, it ain't like I wanted some brat dumped in my lap.

Brat?

That little snot-nose killed my bachelor game, man.

And you,

you were alive this whole time, huh?

Yeah, probably neck deep in robot pussy, you lucky bastard.

But meanwhile, Bump Weathers is stuck taking your kid to a shrink!

So she can whine about her dead mommy.

You son of a bitch, you stole my life!

You ruined Clara!

The least you can do is be grateful for it.

You think that's gonna hurt me?

You come into my house and run up on me?

What's a redneck like you doing with all of these?

Pretentious bastard!

Suddenly you become a father,

and you start reading Canterbury Tales?

Illiterate shit heel!

You're not fooling anyone!

Careful, he's going nuts.

Cliff!

Cliff, what is wrong with you?

Clara?

Son of a... Illiterate...

Where's Clara?

Bump! Come here, you little...

Where'd Bump go? Where'd he go?

Cliff! Snap out of it!

Wait...

Wait, what?

What is wrong with me?

All I want to do is cry.

My brain is screaming for release.

I'm so angry!

Can't live like this!

Why do I want to beat the shit out of Bump so bad?

Irony is Bump Weathers was

probably a better dad to Clara than I would've been.

Shit.

I was already turning into my old man.

Oh!

Shit's the same.

Same fights, same apologies over and over.

A vicious cycle!

Maybe Clara's lucky. She got out.

Maybe that's why I can't call Clara.

'Cause the second thing I'm gonna have to explain

after "How the fuck am I alive"

is why it's me.

Why is it me,

not her mom, who came back?

It should've been Kate.

Oh, God, it should've been Kate!

What in the hell is going on?

Cliff's having a psychotic break.

Look, maybe we should just leave him alone.

No!

Please, I don't want to be alone with my thoughts again. I...

I can't be the only one who needs to talk.

Talking! That's what we need.

You're all just as messed as I am, right?

We need to talk as a group!

Like therapy?

No, hard pass.

It's what Niles would do.

Niles used to talk to us, right? Like, well...

Really, just listen.

Come on, we have no idea what's going on with each other.

Look at Rita. Rita, what the heck is going on with your legs?

You can tell me, you can tell us.

I was stuck in a furnace, and nobody could hear my screams.

See? A powerful metaphor for what we're all feeling.

It was a literal furnace.

Even better! Literal furnaces!

We need to talk about this stuff.

For God's sake, Cliff is deranged, but he's right.

This is exactly what doomed those poor bastards in the Doom Patrol.

Mr. Nobody turned them against each other,

using their secrets, their lies,

their anxieties, and he's already doing it to us.

He's doing it to me.

If we have any chance of making it through this,

we need to start talking to each other.

Therapy.

And I would rather eat hot coals than talk about my problems.

Therapy!

And damn it, Cliff, get a grip.

Therapy!

Well, this is fucking awkward.

I just spilt my guts out. Someone else talk.

About what exactly?

Stuff! Feelings.

Let's go deep, get to the root of our issues.

Don't you wanna know how your parents messed you up?

I wanna know how your parents messed you up.

Fine, I'll go first.

Second.

Ever since Niles was abducted

and we went into that donkey place,

Mr. Nobody has been dangling something terrible over me.

A thing I did a long time ago,

great source of shame.

And if we keep looking for Niles,

that thing is...

Is going to come out. And I don't know...

Why don't you just say it now?

Excuse me?

Rob it of its power or whatever.

I'm not ready.

- Lame. - Hey, let her talk.

Come on, man, this was your idea.

I'm just saying.

I'm sorry, okay, go ahead. Rita, you were... Go ahead. Sorry. Sorry.

All I know is that Rita Farr was not a good person.

In fact,

she was never a person at all.

Rita was

an illusion,

made of light and celluloid

and the best hair and wardrobe in the business.

And now, I have to confront the truth.

If there is no Rita Farr,

then there's nothing else there.

I don't know what I am.

I don't even know who I am.

Holy shit. You just talked your legs into being legs.

Mmm.

Go, Rita.

Hell of a performance, darling.

Really your best work.

You know what, Jane, you can be a real bitch sometimes.

Good, good, good. This is all good.

Dirty laundry, airing it out.

- Fuck off! - Sunshine's the best disinfectant.

- Shut up, Cliff! - Whoa. Group mind!

All right, this is a waste of time.

You got somewhere better to be?

Yes, actually, I do.

What, your room? You have a lover's quarrel with your flowers?

Gotta go have make-up sex?

We can all hear you yelling at yourself, pal.

At the spirit.

So then maybe the two of you have something you wanna

get off your chest.

Okay.

Well, I'm...

- Gay! - Whoa, whoa, settle down, buddy.

What? Come on! No judgment here.

I just thought Larry was about to come out,

and it would've been so healing for him.

I think all I wanted to say was...

It gets lonely

not touching anyone for 60 years.

The last person I ever touched was John Bowers.

I...

I loved him.

And I drove him away.

I knew it.

I just want you to know that you're loved and accepted.

I'm not done.

Oh, okay. All right.

I'm only sharing this because it's the thing

Mr. Nobody shoved in my face.

What's left of my face.

That was a joke.

These bandages are the death of all nuance.

Look, if Mr. Nobody's goal is to torture me, well,

I've been doing his work for him.

Whipping myself in a prison of my own making.

What if I'd trusted John? What if I'd been more brave?

And guess what? I'm sick of it.

I'm not just hurting myself, I'm hurting this thing inside me,

and it's hurting me back, endlessly,

until there's so much self-loathing I can barely breathe.

I killed my mom.

Whoa. Winner winner, chicken dinner. Here we go.

My dad and I don't talk about this.

I was having an argument with my mom about school.

It seemed like everything at the time, but

it's so small now.

Anyway, I got pissed and lashed out about some BS.

We were in my mom's home lab,

chemicals, a bunch of them. And...

Boom.

But to save me, my dad, uh...

He turned me into this.

Thing is, that story,

my guilt, it used to be the well of my strength.

It took me so long to accept what happened and

who I became.

But, man, I thought Cyborg was a way to make it all right again.

Something's changed.

Mr. Nobody, he put this bug in my ear.

Will you stop it?

Sorry.

If my brain and my operating system are seamless, then

how do I know if my memories are real?

Come on, let's hit the gas!

Get to the good stuff!

Go deep, Vic. Deep!

The thing I can't shake is...

What the hell could be worse than me killing my own mother?

And there is this tiny voice in my head

that believes Mr. Nobody when he says that

my memories aren't real. Is that the human part or is that my

logic board running game on my brain?

As far as I can remember, I've never really trusted my father.

So that's not new,

but suddenly, I'm starting to question

why doesn't he trust me?

He shouldn't.

My turn to share.

Hey, what is this?

It's what Mr. Nobody showed me in the donkey.

- Why did you keep this hidden? - Holy shit!

Come now, it's just a painting.

What? You wanted secrets out in the air, well, here's a big one.

Don't be so vindictive.

You made this up.

The Hangman's Daughter doesn't lie.

Well, this has been productive.

Oh, wow.

You all need more therapy than I do, and I'm the crazy one.

Jane, get back here!

Group isn't over until you share.

Who are you all of a sudden?

You don't get to throw a grenade into our therapy session and

pretend that's helping.

This isn't therapy!

Maybe it's okay if it's just talking.

You of all people need someone to talk to.

I've seen your tapes.

What the fuck is that supposed to mean?

You know.

Man, I can't take you seriously with

all this tough love paternal shit.

Is there someone nicer in there who can

come out and explain to us

how not to piss you off all the time?

Why? You wouldn't listen anyway.

Not sharing is a form of self-isolation.

You're not even listening now.

Your mind is a beautiful, strange place

full of mystery.

You don't wanna know what I'm thinking.

Come on, just say it! It's a safe space!

You'll never be a father because you aren't even a man.

I'm the only one here who can stand you,

and I only like one 64th of you.

Well, thank you for your honesty.

Jane. Jane, come back.

Jesus, Cliff.

Ever heard of de-escalation?

I didn't mean that. Did I?

Jane, don't leave.

There's nowhere to go from here but up.

Jane, I'm sorry.

I didn't mean to say that.

I didn't even think I was thinking that.

What the... No!

How did...

Clara? Clara?

This is nuts.

This is nuts!

Cliff's gone off the deep end.

What if he's having a stroke?

Would you have some sympathy?

Nice going there, Beeboo.

Cliff's the one goddamn reason we're actually talking to each other.

Yeah, way to screw the pooch with your lady friend there, tug-a-nug.

Maybe his crazy is all our crazy.

I'll bump that face off your punch!

Hold him down!

There's something wrong with him.

No, he's just grieving.

Oh... Ugh.

_

- Honk, honk. - Is that my bus?

What on Earth are you doing?

What are we doing?

We're going into town.

I'm in.

_

_

Oh, little one.

Such heartbreak, such sorrow.

Luckily, you don't have to go it alone.

You have me.

_

Up here, the narrator.

Ugh. Look, let's just focus on the sorrow.

Okay? Let it well up inside of you,

nurture it, feel it harden into that icy cold blade called vengeance.

My God, who told you that?

Your dead country-mouse mom over there?

Enough with home-spun cornpone bullshit.

A wrong has been committed,

and there's only one way to set it right.

You need to find the thoughtless cretin

responsible for your mother's annihilation,

and then you need to fuck his mind, fuck his heart,

and fuck his soul.

Think you can do that, little fella?

_

_

_

_

_

Good morning, Rita. Team meeting in 15.

- Synced and corrected by Firefly - - www.MY-SUBS.com -

Greg, move your head.