03x08 - Masks

[bunniefuu]

Previously, on "12 Monkeys"...

You lied to me.

The Witness can be saved.

Take her down.

The boy is my charge, not the man.

- We're done playing games.

- You ready to talk?

I can tell you how to k*ll the Witness.

They've come for me, Father, Mother, too.

You can't have him.

It needn't be like this.

Athan.

- Cole?

- He's my son.

No!

We can't go back.

Jones knows...

She'll k*ll us.

We're on our own now.

You do know what we have to do, right?

Yes.

Hold still.

How did this happen?

On the docks.

Bastard foreman shoved me into a broken crate.

Will I lose it?

No, I can clean this.

Some of the men...

They wagered I'd lose it before the month's up.

Fortunately, you received a tetanus sh*t when we were in 1987.

Hand will heal.

They'll ask questions.

Tell them you were lucky.

Tell them you prayed.

Why not return, Sebastian, to 1987, 1930, 1976, anywhere, any-when but here?

They'll find us.

They have ways.

Our movements are not untraceable.

Then let them find us.

It would be better than living in squalor.

Athan, one day, you will have all the power in the world.

Only a man who has learned to live with nothing can understand what wielding that actually means.

You have visions?

I can't stop them.

No more voices, no more variables.

To be Primary is beautiful.

You're part of nature.

Part of time itself.

No, no, I've begun to see my future, and it is masked by darkness.

It's shrouded.

Here.

I've always said your future is your own.

This is a gift.

Sebastian, this is insanity.

Then make it sane.

- Serpent...

tail.

- The serpent eats its tail.

_ Hey.

Didn't you hear?

w*r's over.

Nothing back that way.

There's nothing here either.

I don't understand...

This is what she saw.

This train, this time.

What are you doing?

It's V-Day.

Great Granddad spent it face-down in Normandy, so this is for him.

Ah, sh*t.

Come on.

Stop following us.

We're not even chasing them.

It's like we're following them from the front.

- Right place, right time - Wrong direction.

And, with those suits, they're getting better, faster, quicker jumps, shorter distances.

Cross reference these historical notations again against the feedback of the suit.

All the feedback has been accounted for.

We have no new readings that match anything on here.

We must have missed something.

By the time we start the fight, we have already fought and lost.

It shouldn't even be a fight.

They're our friends.

Oh, yeah, they're real friendly.

And your directions are for sh*t.

I can only draw what I see.

Places, pieces, moments.

Is that it?

Seems like your third eye's getting a little lazy.

Everything Ms. Goines has seen corresponds to an item on the Witness' map.

Yes, the suits provide them with an advantage, but they also come with a tell.

Here, Hong Kong, 1924, Moscow, 1993, Chile, Morocco, London, 1899, 1940.

When we studied the suit's navigation system, we also acquired its temporal signature.

Like a GPS or a temporal IP address, traceable within certain parameters.

The map gives us the why, Ms. Goines the where, and the suits the when.

None of it's any good if we can't get there before them.

So what do we do?

I need some fresh eyes on this.

A set of footprints that stop suddenly.

Is this some kind of religious metaphor?

Spirituality?

Hmm, interesting.

I see you have enjoyed your library.

Yes, thank you for the books.

Self-help, enlightenment, the power of crystals.

What you did to me with the machine was more humane.

Unfortunately, this image represents quite literally where we are with stopping Mr. Cole and Dr. Railly.

It's a dead end.

You learn a great many things in cycles, boxes...

cages.

Patience.

You'll find them.

I'm afraid patience is not my strong suit.

Too conscious of the ticking clock.

Obviously.

Imagine for a moment you were me.

What would you do?

Quit smoking.

And then?

James and Dr. Railly are tracking their son, which means they're learning to think like him.

There are no straight lines.

The Witness knows this.

So stop thinking linearly.

Take her out of this thing.

What is she doing?

Whatever it takes.

This is wrong.

When are you gonna realize that there is no right?

What happened to you?

b*ll*ts, care of Dr. Railly.

And the ironic thing is I taught her how to sh**t.

Did you also teach her how to miss every vital organ?

Because she did...

on purpose.

What a sweetheart.

And James, he led us into that sh*t, made us all targets, then he sees his boy, has a change of heart.

Sometimes happens to people who have done horrible things.

- Don't.

- They look for redemption from the people they've k*lled.

You know who k*lled Old You that day?

The Family Cole.

And the chaos of their mad son's red forest.

But they're hoping that people can change, that they can save his soul.

I know they can't.

Because I used to blame myself for what happened that day.

I probably should, but...

I'm over it.

Way over it.

Mr. Deacon.

Come on, tell me where you are.

Five and three, blue and green.

Give me yellow...

I could paint you the world.

The Guardians?

You've encountered no resistance?

Three are dead.

Really?

Still one more.

Who did not reset time when he left.

Still, the Witness is vulnerable.

To James and Dr. Railly, but also to you.

Have you been able to track where they've been?

Well, at first, there was a rush of activity.

We encountered them at each one of these points, but, as far as we can tell, the Word of the Witness does not reference any other specific event.

Footprints vanishing.

Redirecting.

This image doesn't depict a dead end.

Only a change of course.

They're returning to the places they've been.

Tracing their steps.

Using your own altercations as decoys.

You'll find them in one of these previous time periods.

Something else you've been wrong about too.

The Witness doesn't have one Guardian left protecting him.

He has two.

Primaries don't think linearly.

Like the Witness.

Jennifer knows this.

She's been leading you astray.

London, 1899.

You're still there.

She's protecting them.

Protecting the Witness.

I have to help Cole and Cassie, okay?

You're my only hope.

I'm so sorry.

I'm so, so sorry.

What's going on?

Temporal radiation.

The levels are climbing.

They're off the scales.

Shut down the machine.

It's not coming from the machine.

Jennifer.

Run!

The hell is happening?

Lasky, Lasky, time for some real talk, me and you.

Yea or nay?

Nay.

k*lling our friends?

Nay.

Big nay.

Super nay.

What the hell was that?

The machine!

I gotta go.

London 1899.

You have the coordinates already, just send me back.

They're gonna k*ll Cole and Cassie if I don't get to them first.

Jones will k*ll me!

Please.

I would have to be at gunpoint.

- Like this?

- Chk-chk.

Oh, no, I fear for my life.

Sorry, Jones, she had a g*n.

Wanna tell me where we're going?

This way, down this street.

This is our last lead.

After this, we got nothing.

The Word of the Witness said, "London, 1899." "The Red Death, Twopence for a Pauper." I still don't get it.

Twopence just means two pennies.

A pauper is a poor person, and the red death is a reference to Edgar Allan Poe.

Wanna help me out?

I grew up in the apocalypse.

My family didn't own a bookstore.

Poe wrote "The Masque of the Red Death." My grandfather used to read Poe to me as a kid.

It was scary.

Poe's "Red Death" was about a plague, but his plague was fictional.

So red forest, red death, plagues, masks.

Why London, why now?

London fought the Great Plague starting in 1665.

There have been outbreaks ever since, but, historically speaking, here, now, there's nothing.

Except...

I found this.

_ A party?

A ball.

"Exquisite dining, dancing, and music for those of particular heritage and means." Who'd celebrate a plague?

There's nothing rich people like celebrating more than their own privilege and survival.

Sick is only sick if it happens to rich people.

Sounds familiar.

"Red Death, Twopence for a Pauper." I think this party is what Athan was talking about.

He could be there.

Cassie, if we're wrong, and he's not, this could be our last chance at 1899.

Excuse me, sir, madam, can I bother you for...?

Hey, hey, whoa.

Nice try, kid.

Your brother's got the distraction part down, but you...

you gotta lift and then pull.

Here.

Go get something to eat.

Come on, get out of here.

Scavs in every century.

You're sweet, but, unless you like sweeping chimneys, I'd save what little money you have left.

If we're gonna try to con our way into this party, we need to look like we belong, and we don't have nearly enough.

- We'll get it.

- How?

Like scavs.

What is this, madam?

sh*t, sorry.

Okay, uh, we should rethink your approach.

I can't do this.

Yes, yes you can.

Just smaller moves, bigger smile.

Mm?

We need costumes, good ones.

We're gonna have to pick more pockets.

- Okay.

- There's something else.

What?

One, two, three.

One, two, three.

It's okay...

I have nine more.

Two three.

- One, two, three.

- One...

Yeah, I know that part.

You're more coordinated that this.

- I can't see my feet.

- I don't know what I'm doing.

How do you walk?

Do you walk staring at your feet?

Down, one...

wow, you're really bouncing.

- You said, "up, down." - I know, I did.

- One, two...

- What are you...?

- I'm not laughing at you.

- Don't laugh.

You said, "up, down!" Two, three.

- You said...

no, please...

- You...

- One, two, three.

Or one...

two, three.

- Are you okay?

- Your face is really twisted.

Imagine you're balancing a glass of water.

- Okay.

- While you're doing one, two, three, the water would be all over the place.

Here we go, one more time.

One, two...

- Ah, all right.

- Oh, my God.

Explain to me again why we have to do this.

Because, if I'm posing as a wealthy American heiress, I wouldn't be caught dead with some uncultured Yankee.

What's wrong with Yankees?

I'm doing the best I can.

Come on.

So delicate.

One, two, three, keep going.

One, two, three.

Excuse me, sir, do you know where Kensington is?

- Is it that way?

- No, it's south.

- Are you quite certain?

- I could've sworn - it was that way.

- Really?

- Um, no, Kensington's...

- I'm certain I'll find it Thank you very much.

One, two, three.

One, two, three.

- One...

there you go.

- Getting there.

- Yes, I am.

- Two...

One, two, three.

- Very good.

- I'm a natural.

Well, I wouldn't go that far.

You don't think so?

Watch this.

Oh, this is horrible.

I'm a cultured Yankee.

Nothing bad could come from this.

Maybe we should take these with us.

- How?

- There's barely room to breathe in this, let alone wear a splinter vest.

We can sneak in over there.

Actually, I was thinking we could make an entrance.

Ya!

Our son is here somewhere.

How the hell are we supposed to recognize him?

We don't know anything about him.

Christ, it could be him throwing this party.

No, this isn't him.

How do you know?

I just do.

He could be any age, young, old.

What's the red death supposed to look like anyway?

A red skull.

They're everywhere.

All right, let's start working the room.

And if we find him?

Talk to him.

Tell him what?

The truth.

Who we are, why we're here.

What if it doesn't work?

Okay.

Let's start with the dance floor.

Maybe it's not him we're supposed to be looking for.

"The Red Death," that's here.

That's the place.

- But the person...

- The Pauper.

Whoever that is, that's who Athan thought was important.

But look around.

Bankers, industrialists, royalty.

No paupers here.

You're wrong.

You're looking at the masks, not the faces.

- The servants.

- Could be one of them.

Cole, him.

Please, James, the boy needn't become the man.

He doesn't want to.

Go.

You.

You were one of his guardians.

Of all the encounters I was hoping for tonight, this is not one of them.

We were hoping to find our son.

Well, such is the great irony of our meeting.

- So am I.

- Is he here?

Waited almost 20 years to find out.

You're coming with us.

Come on.

Hello, chuckaboo.

Don't.

How fortunate that you've chosen such festive attire.

Come now, Mr.

Cole, let's maintain our composure.

Neither of us wants to frighten the quarry.

Shall we?

Let's step back.

Yeah, we wouldn't want your baby boy to know that we crashed his party.

Who else is with you?

Already plotting your escape?

Press against me, and you'll feel the weight of a .38.

Deacon, I was just trying to protect...

Your son?

The last person with that reasoning wound up with a b*llet from his brother.

Helluva family you got there.

I'm sorry.

From now on, apologies are issued in blood.

So is he here?

The Witness?

How should I know?

I'm sure you got here using the same information we did.

Once we learned not to trust Ms. Goines.

Yes, madness has picked a side.

Is that was this is?

w*r?

Hasn't it always been?

Such devotion for one murderous child.

You see a m*rder*r.

I see a scared little boy with his mother's eyes.

You're going to fail.

And you know that's not how this works.

Things can change.

People can change.

New beginnings have only ever led us to old enemies.

I have known in my life two great agonies.

The pain of losing a child and the pain of being betrayed by one.

Didn't it ever occur to you to tell me the truth?

It wouldn't have made a difference.

It would have torn everyone apart.

And my son would be dead.

Your son.

My daughter never had the chance to be better than she is.

And neither did you.

But your son, whatever, wherever he is, here now...

He chose a lesser life for all children, and that is why, James, he deserves to die.

Cassie and I haven't done anything that you wouldn't have done yourself.

Ah, yes, "The right thing, the wrong way." So says the man who sh*t his own brother in the back.

This is the part where you run!

Cole!

Stop them, whatever it takes.

Jonesy.

I mean, it's funny how we keep swinging back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, like a granddaddy clock...

This is not a game.

I'm offering you one last chance.

How do we gain the upper hand?

Ve haf vays of making you talk.

I'm afraid you're too late.

I haven't seen your son for almost 20 years.

You're his guardian.

Well, he no longer wished for one.

Listen, there's a lot of sh*t written - on the Word of the Witness, - Things you taught him to write.

I taught a child language, art, mathematics.

The man is his own teacher now.

He's gonna destroy the world.

It was my charge to show him the world and let him decide what to do with it when he returns.

To Titan.

Lead the faithful to salvation, a world without death, without time.

Unstoppable.

You're wrong.

He can choose his own fate.

He didn't want his future.

He despised it.

He wanted a destiny that was his own.

You should know that your son wasn't just Primary.

He was kind.

Cassie!

Cole!

Mother, her drawing, the statue!

Mother!

Take her back to 2046.

What happened between you two?

20 years ago, I attempted to alter our coordinates and return us to Titan.

I thought he was ready, a good man.

Imagine a benevolent Witness with all the power of time.

But he felt betrayed, and so he stranded me here, and only years later did I discover where he'd been.

So our friendship ended that day.

How often we must defy our friends for what we believe in.

Why the red death?

Why reference this moment if he's not here?

_ Twopence.

Twopence over the eyes.

1919 Islington.

It's an address.

Go there.

You will find the answers that you seek, as I did.

James, it's over.

I'm willing to grant you clemency this one time.

Does this man know where your son is?

Katarina Jones.

Do you intend on k*lling him?

That is my only intent.

I failed to stop your son.

It's up to you now.

"Twopence for a Pauper." No, no!

Please, please, please, no!

No, no, not here.

No!

This isn't for me!

This is for her, please!

Deacon, please, please, no.

No, please, no!

Deacon, please.

No, no, please, please, please.

Shh.

I know what it's like.

You're locked up with nothing but the voices in your head to keep you company.

To pass the time.

Sorry I can't stay.

There's work to finish.

Our son lived here.

Cassie.

We will meet again, old friend.

When the forest is red.

♪♪