All language subtitles for Hemlock.Grove.S02E07.720p.WEBRip.x264-W4F

We are hot, hot, hot,
you are not, not, not

We are hot, hot, hot,
you are not, not, not

Traffic is way backed up

all the way along the ten
beyond Clearview.

You're probably best to stay away
from there altogether.

Construction still holding things up
along the 90,

so expect a few delays there as well.

- So...
- So?

Last night.

- Right.
- Was kind of...

- Unexpected.
- Yeah. Definitely unexpected.

What's up, buttercups?

I am starving!

- And craving dark, leafy greens.
- For breakfast?

Doctor Spivak says we don't get
enough riboflavin in our diet.

And I don't see any dark, leafy greens.

So, how are we all doing today?

- Good.
- Yeah, good.

Oh, my God. So, I had this incredibly
fucked-up dream last night.

Uh, there was...
there was this house,

and there was this little boy.
And... a storm was coming in,

and there were these... these windows,
these beautiful stained glass windows...

And... you were there.

And you were there.

And there... was this guy
in this creepy mask.

Oh, it scared the crap out of me.

I haven't had a nightmare like that
since I was a little kid.

Guys, it's the 21st century, OK?

What happens between us...
among us...

I think if it's more than two,
it's "among."

My point is, let's not trip, OK?

Yeah?

Well, I should, uh...

I'm gonna go say good morning to Nadia.

Me, too.

This'll only be weird if you
make it weird.

- What the hell was that?
- No clue.

She shows up at the front door,
starts nursing the baby.

- Now she's sharing our dreams?
- She even saw the masks.

- What the fuck is up with the mask?
- It could be shame.

I mean, who wouldn't be ashamed
of doing that shit?

Maybe we should tell Miranda
what's going on.

- Are you out of your mind?
- She could be seeing something we're not.

What, are we supposed
to just casually mention,

"By the way, we got a backstage dream pass
to a serial killing spree?"

She's gonna figure out
something's going on.

Right?

Maybe she could help us find that kid,
stop anyone else from getting hurt.

She could get hurt.

We tell her about the dreams,
where does it stop?

She's gonna wind up
finding out what we are.

Norman, I got a situation here.
I can't really talk right now.

Hey!

Fuckin' great.
What?

Here's what I dreamt about
last night.

And this is what came up
when I googled the image.

Stained glass windows made by a guy
named Frank Bannister.

This is his studio.

Zebulon, Ohio.
Just across the border.

You better get going,
before it's too late.

You told me to come to you
when I had another dream.

There was a break-in last night.
One dead, two injured.

- I'm sorry to hear that.
- So I've got my hands full

looking for the perpetrator,

which moves dream chasing
further down my to-do list.

There's a family somewhere out there
that's about to find themselves

in a serious fucking shit storm.

You can do something about it, like keep
it from happening, catch the murderers.

Well...

It isn't just me.

- Roman dreamt it too.
- Roman Godfrey?

The kid in Toronto who died,
Roman dreamt it too.

And the time before that,
at the trailer park?

That's when we realized
we were both having them.

Don't ask me why.
I have no answers for any of this.

- I warned you about holding out on me.
- Look, I'm here, aren't I?

- I'm coming with.
- You're staying out of this.

I'm in this, whether I like it or not.

Last thing I need is a citizen psychic
with a rap sheet tagging along.

- You gotta listen.
- Do you want to get locked up

for interfering
with a police investigation?

Watch it.
These guys aren't fucking around.

What are you doing here, Olivia?
You have no business in this building,

and you need a security pass
to come down here.

What are you doing?

Letting Pryce suck away your power
because it terrifies you?

Norman called.
Asked me to meet him.

- Goddamn it.

And I told him I wasn't interested
in a family therapy session.

Thank God you're all right.

I... missed you.

Did you just...

Yep.

Say something else.

Roman...

Say it again.

Roman... you look tired.

Lost sleep over you.

But it's all gonna get better now.

Hello, Mother.

Hello, darling.

What happened?

Where have you been?

So much to tell you.

We want to hear it all.

Wow.
Where were you last night?

- I'm late for work.
- You slept with her again.

Is it simply not possible for you
to stop thinking with your dick,

- or are you just looking for punishment?
- You don't understand.

She's playing you off of Roman.
She wants his money.

We're all very cool with each other.

Wait...

I... didn't want anyone to get hurt.

- I was just...
- He couldn't stand up for himself.

You did what you had to do.

- We have to help Jason.
- We will.

You were very brave.

I'm proud of what you did
for that little boy.

Norman left the building.
You can cut the mommy act.

I know I have not always
been demonstrative.

A product of my European
upbringing, no doubt.

But it doesn't mean I can't strive
to be a better mother.

To both of you.

- I want us to be a family.
- She hasn't changed.

- This is my daughter.
- I won't watch you prey on her.

- I'm comforting her.
- You're leading her on!

- You never once cared about her.
- Both of you.

Out.

- She's gone.
- Shelley needs a break.

I haven't seen my sister
in seven months.

Consider the mental anguish
she's been through.

- On account of Olivia.
- Both of you are toxic.

Shelley is malnourished, dehydrated.

She has old gunshot wounds
that still haven't healed properly,

causing an infection so egregious
it's wiped out her immune system.

Which is why her phosphorescence
has disappeared.

And then there's
the laceration on her back.

What she needs,
even more than medical attention,

is a period of emotional healing,

which means a peaceful environment

away from the howling mobs
on the street

and your endless fucking
familial dysfunction.

I can't tell you how disturbing it is
you're the one responsible

for my sister's peace of mind.

I've been seeing to your needs
adequately, haven't I?

I'm not fragile the way she is.

Nobody means more to me
in this world than that girl in there.

Then we at least have
one thing in common.

One more thing.

It's imperative you tell no one,
no one, Shelley is here.

I'm not an idiot.

Hey, what are you doing out of bed?

I'm OK.

You need to rest, OK?
Pryce says you need to rest.

Look, I'm sorry you have to come back
to the same old shit with Olivia.

She's... different.

No, she isn't.

Listen to me. She stopped thinking
about you the day you disappeared.

I'm not gonna let her worm
her way back in, OK?

It's too much stress on you.

I'll do whatever it takes to get her
out of our lives for good.

- Sorry I'm late.

I don't even want to know
what you were doing.

Well, then don't ask.

Double homicide, Buffalo, New York.

Christmas, 1965. Married couple
had their throats ripped out

while their six-year-old daughter
hid in the closet.

Only thing she would say
of the perpetrator

was the woman had "hair of night."

Why are you showing me this?

Cops were able to lift a clean set
of prints from the crime scene,

but there was no match.
Until today.

I ran Olivia's fingerprints
through the database,

and they came back to this murder.

You got Olivia's fingerprints?

I was trying to rule her out.
Now I can't.

Wait, this happened in 1965,
for Chrissakes.

I ran 'em five different times.

I've got a guy at Quantico
who eyeballed them himself

to preclude computer error.

- I know it doesn't make any sense.
- It doesn't make any sense.

- She wasn't even born.
- I don't know, 60 is the new 40.

She's rich. Is it possible she's doing
some kind of experimental treatment?

You would know what goes on
in that White Tower, better than anybody.

This, um, this witness,
she still around?

- Her address in Buffalo.
- Let's talk to her.

Michael Chasseur.
I'm the new...

I know who you are.

I understand you might be able
to shed some light on some folks

having bad accidents
that aren't accidental.

You've spoken to Peter.

He told me about a dream
you both had, apparently.

Little kids, parents,
house with pretty windows,

and some bad guys
looking to do harm.

Hm. First I've ever heard
of a dream police.

- So you didn't have this dream?
- I might have.

But when my head hits the pillow,
I, uh, I'm dead to the world.

Wake up, don't remember a thing.

Some people have things
that keep them awake at night.

Not me.

Know anything about a home invasion?

Old lady got a fatal gunshot
in her chest.

Two others in critical condition.

Nope.

Assailant's description
is strangely similar

to the one Sheriff Sworn issued
for your sister a while back...

My sister's dead.
So is Sheriff Sworn.

I lost a sister, too.

I know what it's like.

Not something you get over.

Ever.

So, uh...

...this dream Peter told you about
give you any leads?

Maybe.

A house in Ohio matches the description.

- Long drive.
- Yep.

You want to watch out
for those speed traps.

The five-oh can be real fuck-heads.

But you probably get
professional courtesy.

Why don't you come along?
Me being new around here.

Unfortunately, I have a pressing doctor's
appointment I can't reschedule.

- Hmm. Hope it's nothing serious.
- Thanks.

We both have a lot
at stake in this town.

I don't need to tell you
what it's been through.

- Anything I can do to help.
- Well, let's make a point

of getting together... figure
where things went so terribly wrong.

- Sounds like a plan.
- When?

We'll call you.
We'll call your office.

I'll expect to hear from you.

Yeah. OK. Good.

Three, two, one...

Blastoff! Whoa!

Julian. Front and center.
It's time for your allergy shot.

I can't move. I'm dead.

There's a Fruit Roll-Up
in it for you.

Come on, buddy.
Let's go.

My breakthrough in extrauterine
fetal incubation involved

an artificial umbilical vein
conducting atmospheric oxygen

and a fluorocarbon mixture
through the ductus venosus

to the inferior vena cava to maintain
lung inflation at amniotic pressures...

You want... to show me something?

Well, I was going to present this
at the Ectogenesis Convention

in Stockholm next week,

but now I've found
a cause even greater.

Shelley, this is the new you.

Her cerebral tissue is
undifferentiated,

so I can map your brain's
neuro-network onto it,

effectively uploading
your consciousness.

Finally you'll enjoy
a normal human form.

This... my body?

Yes.

I... mmm...
assumed this would be good news.

Quite the pad.

Must be a great place to play house.

Yep, that's my evil master plan,

become a housewife and conquer the world
one casserole at a time.

I thought you were all about a payday,
but I guess you're just one of those girls

who needs to be the center of attention,
no matter how many guys are involved.

I don't see how
any of that concerns you.

As we discussed, I'm not gonna stand by
and watch you smash my cousin's heart

into a million pieces
just so you can get double dipped.

Get out.
Go, leave, goodbye.

Give me your fucking hands.

The palms of your hands,
I need to see them now!

Oh, my God.
What the hell was that?

- You need to get out of here, now.
- What?

You felt it, the dark energy.
You're in danger.

The only dark energy here is you,
showing up at the door, talking trash,

grabbing me with your cold, clammy hands,
and freaking me the fuck out.

If you don't want to believe me,
trust your own feelings.

This is a dangerous place,

and you need to get away from here,
Miranda. I mean it. Go.

You are nothing
if not a drama queen, Roman.

An invoice from a moving company?

You sent them
to my cottage to evict me?

Your cottage?

Technically, everything
on these grounds belongs to me.

Technically, I can't be evicted
from a hospital,

which this place is, after all,
unless a medical doctor

releases me from treatment.

I'll get Pryce to sign off
on your discharge.

Oh, God.

Can we just stop this ceaseless
pissing contest, please?

Whether you believe me or not, I really
have been taking stock of my life, and...

...realize I need to make amends for...

...so many of the things I've done,
as well as all the things I didn't do,

which could have made your life
and Shelley's... happier.

Happier.

I'm about to get wheeled in there
and have needles shoved into my eyeballs.

You have no idea
how much more appealing that is

than listening to you prattle on
with your filthy lies.

Don't do this to yourself.

Hard to imagine you could fuck up Shelley
more than you already have,

but you're still at it.

You come to my house when I told you
to stay away from my family.

You and your family won't
make it without me.

You need me to show the way.

One more treatment after this,
I'm human.

I'll be nothing like you.

And when my daughter is old enough,
she'll get the treatments too.

No, no, no, you can't.
You cannot do that.

Mutilate my granddaughter?
Roman, that... that would be cruel.

It could even kill her.

Anything to get your blood
out of her veins.

She'll be like me, like JR.

What, you mean weak,
indecisive, suicidal?

He chose a bullet in the head
over being married to you.

What does that say?

Because of you,
I never knew my father.

JR's not your father.

What?

Didn't have it in him.

I know you've always considered him
the genius behind Godfrey Industries,

because that's the company line,
and I didn't want to spoil your fantasy.

But JR's only genius was
recognizing it in others.

He met a brilliant
medical student one summer

in Greenwich Village in a bathhouse,

and an even more brilliant woman
on the stage in London.

Pryce and I made the company what it is.

None of it would be here without me.

JR couldn't have created any of this,

let alone give me proper children.

That means... Letha...

How does it feel to be human?

What'd you find out?

That I'm getting played.

What? You couldn't find
Bannister's studio?

Oh, I found it, abandoned,
windows busted out.

Well, then there's a mistake.
It's gotta be a different house.

Or you had me chasing ghosts
to get me out of town.

Why would...
I wanted to go to Ohio with you...

I don't know what games
you're playing, son,

but you better come correct with me.

You don't, Jesus already knows
he can't help you.

Shit.

The reason your man in a hurry
for be somewhere is because

your man have a wife somewhere.

Talk to you later.

Can barely chew her food.

Hears good, though, on account she grunts
when you ask her a question.

But me don't really know
how much help she can be.

- How long has she been like this?
- Ever since we know her.

You have visitors, honey.

Been downhill ever since her last stroke.

We'll make it brief.

You're going want to.
Someone needs a fresh diaper.

Me ever get like that,
put a bullet right here, sir.

Hi, Donna.

My name's Dr. Godfrey,
and this is Leticia.

These are for you.

We would like to ask you
some questions

about what you saw the night
your parents were murdered.

I know it's something
you'd rather not think about, but...

But we need help finding
whoever's responsible,

even after all these years.

Do you remember telling the police
you saw who did it?

Huh?

You were a little girl, I know, but...

...you told them that you saw a woman.

Do you see the woman
in the picture here?

Donna?

Donna? Which one is it?

Donna, Donna, it's OK.

- It's OK.

What the hell?
I think you need to go.

Let's go. I'm sorry. Sorry.

Lord Jesus!

We need to go
to the sheriff with this.

A ghost story from 50 years ago,
scrawled in shit by some mental patient?

You don't seriously believe
that implicates Olivia, do you?

No, but it might exonerate you.

Uh, you lost me.

Suppose Marie turns up dead.

I'm sorry, but that's a possibility
that we need to confront.

Foul play's involved, no other suspects.
The first person they'll go after is you.

- Oh, come on.
- Ninety-eight percent of the time,

it's the hubby, the ex
or the BF who did the dirty deed.

There's not one shred of truth.

Truth has nothing to do
with a jury trial.

As cockamamie as it may sound,
a dark-haired, bloodthirsty,

age-defying vixen creates
a reasonable doubt

that at least
one idiot juror will buy into.

- No.
- Norman, you're my client.

- I'm trying to protect...
- I said no. I won't allow it.

Well, as an investigator
who's licensed by the state,

I have an affirmative responsibility
to provide any and all information

regarding the commission of a crime,
whether I have your OK or not.

I'd hate to get on your bad side.

I don't have a bad side.
I'm just Dominican.

Shelley.
What are you doing?

Hemlock Grove.

Peaceful... from a distance.

Come away from there.
It's dangerous.

No... it's no good.

What?

I shouldn't have come back.

Everyone would be... better.

That's not true.

Do you know how much happiness
you've brought?

You are alive, against all odds.

And you are with the people
who love you.

I... put everyone in danger.

You all will get in trouble.

You don't have to worry about anyone.
Everyone will be fine.

And you'll be safe...
in your new body.

I have taken care of everything.

No one will know,
not if you don't want them to.

New body...

Can't do it.

Why not?

The girl is a person,
has a soul.

What makes you think that?

We talked.

That's impossible.

Not words.

I know how to talk without words.

Everyone thinks I'm a killer.

This would make me one.

Before you make any final decisions...

...may I show you something?

What do you call a fish
with no eyes?

What do you call
a fish with no eyes?

A "fsh."

Oh, that's joy.
Now, let's try something different.

How did you feel
when you were being chased?

- That's fear.

Now, you met a friend, Jason.
What did you think of his father?

That's anger.

Well, I'm sure he's probably
in protective custody.

Now let's try it again... with her.

I want you to feel
the same emotions again.

This time, the replacement body
will be emulating your behavior.

Now, think of something
that gives you joy.

Now think of something
that makes you frightened.

Think of something
that makes you angry.

See? Nothing.

It's a neuro-muscular response,

devoid of any feeling, emotion,
or meaning.

Like a machine.

Shelley is endowed with a soul.

Not so this tissue structure,
however well engineered.

We would be mapping you, Shelley,
onto a blank slate.

Now, does this offer any clarification

on what you'll be dealing with?

If you like, we could start uploading
as early as tomorrow.

Why don't you get some rest
while I begin to prep the transfer?

Have you ever seen
a dream book before?

When we have dreams, we're basically
receiving messages from beyond.

And the images in those dreams
correlate to certain numbers.

- Why?
- They just do.

So, let's say I dreamt
about rabbits last night.

I would look up "rabbit" under "R."

And the corresponding number
to "rabbit" is...

thirty-nine.
So 39 would be my lucky number

if I wanted to play the lotto,
for instance.

Because it came to you
in a message from beyond?

Exactly. So, what did you
dream about last night?

Me?

Yeah, you were telling us
about the dream you had.

Uh, right.

I heard on the radio that there's gonna be
this lottery drawing tonight.

It's like the biggest jackpot ever.
It might be your lucky day, so...

You said something about a boy?

- On a swing.
- Swing. Great.

Great. Anything else?

- No detail is too small.
- Um...

He was saying something
about being hot.

Um, but he only had on a T-shirt.

With a red devil on it. Um...

Pitchfork, horns...

And a storm was coming.

That's good. What else?

This is stupid.

There is nothing stupid
about a million-dollar quick-pick.

Well, first Destiny comes in here
and starts having visions...

What?

...and now you're harassing me
about lucky rabbits.

- No, I'm just...
- Something's up,

and I wanna know what it is.

What's going on?

You don't want to know.

You sent the fucking sheriff after me?

He's gonna help us.

It's in the dreams.
It's gotta be in the dreams.

The boy in Miranda's version...
in a shirt with a devil on it,

said something about being hot.

Maybe the kid worships Satan in hell.

Or plays baseball.

"Our team is red hot.
Your team is all shot.

We're hot, hot, hot.
You're not, not, not."

That's the team cheer
for the Hemlock Diablos, right?

Mascot's a horned devil with a pitchfork.

He's on the fucking Little League team.

That family's in Hemlock Grove.

Does this mean that you are ready
for one hand to wash the other?

I spent the afternoon
strolling the grounds.

The birch trees are beautiful in winter.

White, naked.

My son is trying to banish me.

Always extreme measures with men.

He has no idea what he's doing.

What about little girl?

What girl?

Some months ago,
I'm given unidentified umbilical cord

for stem cell harvest
after young mother dies.

Run tests.

Find mitochondrial DNA you.

Don't worry.
We women have to stick together, yes?

These... these treatments,
when he's done,

he plans to subject my granddaughter.

He has only one treatment left.

Is there a way to corrupt it?

Prevent him from destroying
his true nature?

Only two outcomes possible:

his metabolism reverts
to normal human,

or, with manipulation of formula...

Procedure is extremely dangerous.

Complications would not surprise
Dr. Pryce.

I'm not sure I understand
what you're saying.

Life is fragile, Mrs. Godfrey.

You protect baby girl.
Become guardian.

Everything, White Tower,
white birches, again belong to you.

And your interest in this?

Give me lab.
Pryce works for me.

I will not let your progeny
destroy themselves.

Nineteen-thirty. Oldest church
in the area renovated. Stained glass.

- Frank Bannister, foremost craftsman.
- Jesus.

- Exactly.
- Parsonage.

I've got a good feeling
about this lottery.

Yeah, you sure you don't want us
to pick you up a ticket?

Do all boys lie? Hm?

I thought these two were different.

- That's quite a tale.
- A tall one at that.

And this relates
to the Marie Godfrey case in what way?

- It doesn't.
- Uh, may I?

No one is making
any specific allegations here.

We just wanted to furnish
your office with information

that Mr. Godfrey became aware of

that may be relevant
to your investigation.

Spoken by someone who's clearly logged
more than a few hours

working for criminal defense attorneys.

We're sorry for wasting your time.

My sister, as you may recall, worked
for the Department of Fish and Game.

That was her day job.

Clementine's abiding interest
and principal focus was

tracking and exploring phenomena
that defy explanation.

You're not seriously giving credence
to the ramblings

- of some psychotic old woman who...
- Please. Sit down.

Have you ever heard of upirs?

There's the church.

There.

- Holy shit.
- Just like the dream.

What do we say?

Can I help you?

Hey! What are you doing?

Emilio!

Hey! Emilio!

Hey!

Oh, my God! He's allergic!

Help me! There are too much bees
in my room!

- Help him!
- Get him out!

- Was he stung?
- Get him out!

He stung me!
Please! Someone help me! Hurry!

Peter!

- Come on!

- Open the door, come on!
- Give him to me!

- Peter!

Peter!

Don't try to do this alone!

Darling, where have you been?

I've had a wretched day.

I kept calling, trying to reach you.

Is something wrong?

You have grown up so quickly.

A partnership between
my brilliant work and your spirit.

It's time for you
to come out into the world.

Are you ready?

My pride, my joy, my dear creation.

You are going to make me
the most important scientist since Darwin.

But there's someone
to whom I owe a debt,

whose life is more important, I suppose,
than a watershed of adulation.

And so I must say goodbye.

"When thou dost ask my blessing,

I'll kneel down
and ask of thee forgiveness.

And so we'll live,
and pray, and sing,

and tell old tales,

and laugh at gilded butterflies."