01x10 - The House Always Wins

[bunniefuu]

Previously, on SurrealEstate.

Your grandfather he accidentally

opened some sort of gateway.

Place is at least a 100 years old

and there's nothing on it prior to 1987.

What, you don't believe

in soulmates, either?

Kyle Sommer.

Started taking oxy to handle the pain.

- He was dead by summer.

- This haunted-house,

demon stuff is really a leap for me.

Can you still do the things?

Only when I absolutely have to.

The Donovan house.

A riddle wrapped in an enigma

ever since Luke's mother

walked in all those years ago

and disappeared into the wind.

We thought we knew its secrets

and understood its power over us.

We thought we battled its

demons and fought them,

at the very least

to a draw

and that by sealing the

portal in the basement,

we had sealed our victory.

We believed the Donovan

house had been reduced

to a curiosity,

an object of study and wonder.

Fascinating, metaphysically complex,

yet ultimately harmless.

And now I find myself

in a very dark place,

made even darker

by how wrong we were.

Hey.

Luke?

Let me see your eyes.

Still two of 'em?

No, your pupils look okay.

How do you feel?

Sore.

Technicolor headache.

Well, officially, you have a concussion,

two cracked ribs and a lot of bruising.

What do you remember from last night?

I remember an express-lane wedding.

Hm.

Remember getting a message from August.

Where's August? Did we find him?

No. It's only been a few hours.

The others are looking for him.

I, uh, think they're

going back to the house.

You tell them not to use the front door.

One thing we're not gonna

do is use the front door.

There's gotta be another way in.

Well, there's a back

door, but I'm not sure

the results will be any different.

That place spit Luke out

like a watermelon seed.

He's still not answering.

He could be hurt! Or worse.

Keep a good thought, Z.

Come on, this is August

that we're talking about!

We can't just sit here and do nothing!

Do we have plans to the house?

A house that big and only

a few ways in and out?

That's the way they made them back then.

Hm.

What?

I just thought of an idea.

I gotta head back to

the Hall of Records.

Hurry! Please.

Meanwhile, let's just

not do anything dumb.

There's a back door off the kitchen.

No way into the cellar from outside?

Nothing that I know of.

Susan,

can I ask you something?

I mean, you're a rational person, right?

I used to be.

Does all of this ever get to you?

I mean,

until a little while ago,

I didn't believe in anything

that wasn't empirically true,

that couldn't be proven

under laboratory conditions.

The things I've seen

these past few months

feel like one big hallucination:

a fever dream.

And I have these moments

where I wonder if it's

just not time to

Time to wake up?

You shouldn't be up.

Any word from August?

Those last texts from August

- Where's my phone?

- No. I'll get it, hm?

Are you okay?

I'm fine.

I'm just really worried about August.

I think we should call the police.

- He's a missing person.

- And tell them what, Susan?

Best case scenario: they

think we're all insane.

Worst case: a cop tries to go in

that front door and gets what I got.

Then you got SWAT teams,

you got helicopters

they bust in and they

find nothing inside.

Then we are insane.

Either way, it ends

with us in restraints

talking to a forensic psychologist,

eating tapioca with soft utensils.

Zooey

Stay out! Stay out!

Kyle?

Okay, no, I don't know

what Zooey's up to.

Okay, well see if you can find

her and we'll all circle back

to the office. I think I

found a way into the house.

Hey, um, put Luke on, would you?

Hey.

How are you?

Oh, moving slowly.

Hey, uh

I need to talk to you

about something I found

when I was looking through all

those birth and death records.

Could it wait until

after we find August?

I think you're going

to want to see this.

I will email you the files.

Okay.

Whatever.

Just find August. Nothing else matters.

- And you're sure it was ?

- Kyle? Yeah.

He had the same cut on

his chin and he was wearing

the red letterman's jacket

that we buried him in.

He told me to stay out.

So,

on that subject

I never did find anything on

the Donovan place. It, uh

Lives in the land of dreams. But

Meet the Hendersons.

They're 160 yards away

from the Donovan place

on the site of a

torn-down carriage house

whose floor plan is on file.

And it indicates

A tunnel.

So, what are we gonna tell this guy?

We're gonna need some

weapons-grade bullshit.

Watch and learn.

- Mr. Henderson?

- Yeah?

My name is Susan Ireland, Mr. Henderson.

These are my associates,

Ms. L'Enfant and Mr. Orley.

We're with The Roman Agency.

We're a specialty real estate

brokerage and we have a client

who is very interested in your house.

- This place?

- Our client has some rather strict criteria,

so if we could come in

and do a quick assessment,

we can get the ball rolling.

No. I'm not interested.

Our client is very

Look, I'm getting ready

to leave for the weekend.

- I'm I'm not interested in selling.

- Mr. Henderson,

if you look at the back

of my business card,

you'll find a number that represents

our client's initial offer.

Perhaps we can start with the basement?

I love what you've done down here.

Way to not chase those trends.

Uh, so I, uh, called my neighbor,

Miss Donovan, as you suggested.

She said I can trust you.

Good to hear.

Look, I, uh, really gotta go.

Uh, make sure to lock up

the door when you leave.

Ah, Mr. Henderson! Before you go

You haven't noticed anything

unusual over the past few weeks?

Unusual? How?

Noises. Lights.

Sudden variations in temperature.

A feeling of general anxiety?

No. None of that stuff.

There was a bunch of dead-eyed kids

playing Red Rover in

the hallway last night.

Might wanna not mention

that to your client.

So, he usually keeps all

the good stuff on him, but

August does keep a go-bag as backup.

Okay, let's see: the Donovan house is

that-a-way, so maybe

this wall?

Or or maybe that one?

That one.

No, this is just drywall.

I could call Anthony.

I'm pretty sure he's got the

right tools for this and that

- Zooey, I wouldn't do that!

- Shh!

Never talk during somebody's backswing.

God, you're a terrible patient.

I'm feeling better.

I can't just lie there.

I can't miss this lab.

Are you are you sure

you're going to be all right?

I'm fine.

Hey, thanks for taking care of me.

And for putting in a good

word with that Henderson guy.

What?

Luke,

would it be o

Will you be okay if I

stayed at my place tonight?

Sure.

Whatever works.

I'm gonna be really busy

over the next few weeks.

Getting ready to apply

to residencies and all.

That's gonna be really exciting.

I guess

I guess maybe you'll

see me if you have time.

You know where I am.

Let me know when you find August?

This isn't so bad.

How'd you even know this was down here?

During prohibition, some

bootleggers would link

their main residence

to the carriage house

by underground tunnels.

Made it easier to move merchandise

Did you hear that?

Someone's a little tense.

- I'm vigilant.

- Okay, so, then you're jumpy.

- I'm alert.

- Cut it out.

- Well, she started it.

- Well, I'm finishing it.

Ah

Okay, time to move a little faster now.

- How much further?

- I don't know. 50 yards?

And what if there's a

locked door at the end?

I know you can hear me.

I don't think so.

Knock it off.

This night

has been a very long time in the making.

Who are you?

I am the house.

The house is me.

Who are those guys?

Spirits of the house

and they look pissed.

Do you think they're going to hurt us?

Gee, should we ask 'em?

August's glasses where are they?

sh*t! I dropped them in the tunnel!

Okay, we should split

up and find August.

Oh, yeah. Splitting up 'cause

that works so well in the movies!

Well, we could stay clustered together

like little kids playing soccer,

but it'll take three

times longer to find him.

Okay.

Okay, we split up.

You still remember those last rites?

I know this basement pretty well,

so I'll poke around down here.

I'll check the main level.

I'll get upstairs.

- We meet back here in 15 minutes?

- Mm-hm.

Okay.

Ooh!

The portal was here before the house.

Before history.

And when the house was

built, the portal remained.

I thought it was a way into the world.

But I was wrong, wasn't I?

It's a way out.

- And when we closed it

- When you closed it,

all those poor souls just

lingered on here.

Their presence

gave me a power beyond what

I had ever imagined before.

They created chaos.

I adore chaos.

And emotion, love,

sadness, longing, regret.

I feast on them.

- Darla?

- Hello, Augie.

Darla, I

Is it you?

Are you really ?

What happened to your hair?

Time.

Not long ago

Not long at all, by my time reckoning,

I received a very special visitor

and I think she has your eyes.

You two talking about little old me?

Lucas.

Looks like you have an owie.

Yeah?

Well, if I'm so special,

why'd you punt me off the

front porch last night?

Your

gifts

make you a somewhat

unpredictable adversary.

I feel much safer in the house

today with all your friends.

- If you hurt them, I swear to God !

- Relax.

They're all enjoying lovely

little reunions of their own,

inspired by yours.

I can only hope they'll all be as

Complicated.

Daddy?

First of all, don't ask

the obvious question,

the question I would ask if I were you.

I have no idea why I'm here.

I mean, where are we? Clearly not

the pages of Architectural Digest.

Okay, perfectly

understandable. I'll just

wait a second while you gather yourself.

By the way, you look fabulous.

Those cheekbones.

I see a bit of your mother in there,

but it's mostly me. You're welcome.

Daddy.

August?

Padre Felipe.

Father Diaz?

Ola. ¿Cómo estás?

You never said goodbye.

If I had known how

little time we'd have,

I would have spent

every minute with you.

When we were married,

all those years ago,

I seem to recall something

about "until death do us part."

What can I say?

I meet a woman my age,

someone perfectly nice, even

someone to whom I'm

mildly attracted and

and I quickly realize they are

merely a faint reflection of you.

You're haunted.

We try not to use that word around here.

Trying to figure out if you're real, or

something the house

conjured up, or, uh

Ah, Felipe.

When did you become so cynical?

- Father Diaz?

- Oh!

It was perhaps when you turned your back

on the church that raised you.

Oh, no, you got things mixed up, Padre.

- It was the other way around.

- Ah, mierda.

- I could on I could only do so

- Oh, please!

Spare me your tired, self-righteous

"Oh, the church didn't like me

because I like men" rhetoric.

If recent history teaches us anything,

it is that perversion is not

exclusionary to the calling.

Pardon

Pardon me?

Perversion?

These reunions, they're real?

Aren't they wonderful?

I now realize that

some of our worst fears

are not about hell

beasts and nightmares. No!

They're centered on the

ones we loved and lost.

Did we fail them?

Disappoint them?

Will we ever love again?

And worst of all:

were we ever really

loved in the first place?

I thought you were mad at me.

Why would I be mad at you?

We had that massive fight, remember?

Oh, I don't think I do.

About school. I wanted to

switch my major from business

administration to art history

- and you said I was

- Oh, God. What did I say?

You said I was "an overprivileged,

crunchy granola candy-a*s."

Yeah, that kind of sounds like me.

And I got mad and I called you

a cold, grasping capitalist

corporate as*h*le.

Not inaccurate, but ow.

And then I hung up on you.

And then the next day

Wh what happened next day?

You had a massive cerebral hemorrhage.

Oh.

Must have slipped my mind. Ba-dum-bum.

Looking for my friend.

Maybe you've seen him?

Tall, bald, got a beard.

Yeah. He's in the basement.

He wasn't there. I was just there.

He is now.

The house is always changing,

moving things around.

You never called.

Or emailed or sent a text.

You just

blinked out like a

Christmas light, or

a dead star.

I had problems.

We had a plan.

I was going to go first, you

were gonna work for a year

and then you were supposed to follow.

Things went wrong.

I should never have gone without you.

Bullshit.

You had a scholarship.

You had brains! Ambition, direction.

You were brilliant!

Oh, yeah.

Getting hooked on Oxy

and falling off a roof.

That was some real

four-dimensional chess

I was playing there.

I should never have left you.

Ahh.

I've learned a lot from you, my dear.

You taught me that fear flashes bright

and fades quickly.

But despair

Despair is a slow and

painful burn.

I have to go now.

Why?

Can't you stay longer? I want more time.

- We deserve more time

- "Flowers shall grow,

and I am in them,

and that is

eternity."

Edvard Munch.

Hey. Hey!

Couple of cross words doesn't erase

a lifetime of loving you and your mom.

You loved us?

Never said it.

You hardly ever showed it.

Were we supposed to guess?

I tried so hard to make you love me.

In some awful ways, I

feel like I'm still trying.

Still, you're my dad.

And I-I hated the thought

our last words were

angry and mean.

I was hoping

Never mind.

I'm sorry.

Listen to me

we don't have time.

What happened to me

that was not your fault.

It was bad luck.

And a few bad decisions.

And that's all on me.

So, get over it.

And get your friends and get outta here.

Goodbye.

Zooey,

- you won't believe what just happened.

- Later.

We gotta go. August is

in the basement. Come on.

But we were just there!

We spent so much time on the

ancient rites of exorcism.

Maybe we should have done a refresher

- on the vow of celibacy.

- No, I never broke my promise.

I never broke my promise.

You, all of you

- the corporation you broke yours.

- And that promise was

what?

Matthew 28:20.

"Lo, I am with you always,

even unto the end of the world."

I always wondered what you'd think.

How you'd feel.

Kinda hoped you'd want me to be happy.

Happy?

I trained you to slay dragons.

What a waste.

A slow, painful burn.

It just never goes away.

- Does it, my dear?

- Okay.

Let's talk about you.

Because you are sure

as hell not my mother.

- Any luck?

- He's down here!

- What?

- August?

August!

Hey! Hey! Oh.

- I was just in here.

- Oh, I just

I just crawled in here a moment ago.

I believe I have a minor fracture

of the right tibia-fibula.

Your text said that you were afraid.

Had I time to continue,

it would have read,

"I'm afraid I'm in the sh*t."

That's the August I know.

It seems the portal we welded

shut was a route of egress,

rather than ingress.

So, instead of preventing things

from coming into our world,

we prevented them from leaving.

So, let's open it back up.

It will take an acetylene

torch to sever the weld.

It burns at 6,300

degrees Fahrenheit. I

I have one back in my shop.

Great.

So, one of us should go get it and

the rest of us should stay here.

Who wants to stay?

- No, thanks.

- Pass.

Or, perhaps, we all leave here

now and live to fight another day.

- I like that idea.

- Come on.

When that portal reopens,

the pressure will suck in

every extranormal entity

- like a Roomba in an ant farm.

- Works for me.

I checked the basement

earlier. Where were you?

I saw Darla.

- My wife.

- I saw my dad.

He actually said he was sorry.

First time ever.

My dead boyfriend, Kyle, says hi.

Turns out it's not my fault

he's my dead boyfriend Kyle.

What about you, Phil? You see anybody?

Nobody special.

Saw the Certificate of Stillbirth.

Shows that a few minutes after

the birth of Lucas Cromwell Roman,

the doctors delivered

a stillborn baby girl.

She died

just an hour before delivery.

12 minutes.

720 seconds

from entering the world

and your goddamned umbilical cord

wrapped around my neck!

Oops.

And you got to live.

Nearly 37 years experiencing love, joy,

pain, trauma, regret.

All I got was darkness

and loss.

But we are still connected, you and I.

That's why you can

see the things you see,

reason with them, talk to them.

We have a link,

the connection only twins can share.

- So, if you're not my mother, you

- Oh, poor woman.

I'm afraid I made her

life rather miserable

- in those first few years.

- Why?

She had one job!

I loathed her weakness,

her failure to bring me

safely into the world.

And, later,

it just became a giggle.

A diversion.

A constant song of rage and regret

playing in her head over and over.

Add in a healthy dose

of postpartum depression,

and all those horrible creatures

that follow you around.

No wonder the poor woman left.

Wait

She's still out there?

Alive?

My mother?

We are done with her.

She's served her purpose

she brought you to us.

How did you two find each other?

It was fate.

Kismet.

Are we trapped?

- Thanks, girl.

- We need to go back! Come on!

Come on.

Here is what I propose:

you've had your 36 years of life.

It's only fair that I

should get the next 36 or so.

It's only fair.

36 years

to drink in all of the sensations

and emotions that come with being alive.

And, unlike you,

I shall revel in them!

I'll just need you to do

one little thing for me.

I'll need you to die.

- No, don't close the door!

- Wha Are you sure?

Yeah.

Do you have those goggles in your bag?

Yeah yeah yeah. I'll get them.

What, exactly, is your plan?

Girlfriend's gonna bring

us the gift of fire.

You guys have to look away.

It's about to get very crowded in here.

They're attracted to our life force.

Yeah, well, I'm still using mine.

Excuse me?

By your own hand would

be neatest, of course.

So, g*n to the mouth; severed carotid;

handful of pills if you're squeamish.

You aren't squeamish,

are you, big brother?

That's not gonna happen.

Oh, well.

I tried.

Ahh

How's it going, Susan?

Just a little bit longer.

Careful! It's going to be hot.

Hurry up!

It's coming! Come on! Get up!

This house is clean,

b*tch!

We really need to leave the lid open.

Okay. I just needed that moment.

Thank you.

It's better to burn out than fade away.

Neil Young.

- Luke!

- Aw, buddy.

Are you okay?

How long have you been here?

Feels like forever.

Hey! You okay?

Something's changed.

I feel it, too.

The

What I do

Moving things around,

the fires

It always felt like this

shameful,

secret thing that only

happened when I was

upset or

or scared.

In case of emergency, break glass.

Yeah.

But since I

since we

started working together,

it's been different.

I'm not

scared of it anymore.

And tonight

Tonight, for the first

time in my entire life,

I I really felt like

I was in control.

It was precise.

It was not emotional. It was

Tactical.

And,

honestly, it was a rush!

It was fun!

Ah! I've never felt this way.

The voices

the ones I've heard since I was little.

They're not there.

- What do you mean?

- Not there.

Gone. Silent.

I try to reach out, but

- Maybe you're just tired.

- No.

I got nothing.

Hey, I can handle things

for a little while.

I'm afraid you're gonna have to.

Dad? Are you even here?

Come on.

Tell me a joke.

Rattle a chain, knock a ten-pin over

Anything.

'Cause I'm not sure I can

handle losing you again.

Dad

Why didn't you tell me?