Kat wished she could say the next morning was warmer, but it would have been a lie. Every one of her nerve endings screamed against the thought of going outside. Luckily, Kat's determination won out. She bundled herself up with an extra sweatshirt and pushed herself to finish the stretch as fast as humanly possible. Sam could go fuck himself if he couldn't keep up. It was cold as shit out there.

She was the first to make it to the deli. Rather than waiting to gloat, she put in the same order they'd gotten the day before. She was looking forward to a warm shower and some fresh clothes, and wanted to get back ASAP. However, when the food came out, Sam was still nowhere to be seen.

After a few minutes, she resigned herself to choosing a table to wait for him. She picked carelessly at her bagel, keeping an eye on the door. But there was nothing. Pulling out her phone, she dialed in Sam's number only for it to go straight to voicemail. She tried again. This time it rang, but ended it up with the same conclusion. That was concerning enough.

Kat looked casually around the store. The cashier that had been watching her averted his eyes, returning to his work. Whatever that work was. There weren't any customers in the store. The previous day hadn't exactly been packed, but there'd definitely been a line. Now it was just…empty.

"Excuse me?" She caught the cashier's attention again, holding up her phone. "I'm gonna step outside to make a call. Can I leave my stuff here?"

He waved her off, and Kat stepped out into the cold again. She tucked her phone back into her pocket.

The parking lot was just as blank as the store. One beat-up silver car, parked on the other end of the lot. No one was milling down the street. No one was standing outside the other shops. No one looked to be standing in them either.

Her eyes fell on a dumpster at the back of the store. The one open lid was rattling softly, which could have been the breeze. Or not.

Kat picked her way down the building, keeping her back to the wall and her feet light on the asphalt. She was bracing herself for the corner—to jump around and find the siren, or a raccoon, or limp garbage bag. She was probably being paranoid. It was easy to get jumpy as a hunter. Everything could be a threat, anything a trap in disguise, or…

She heard it take a breath. And then it jumped.

Kat dropped instinctively, dodging the arms that grabbed for her throat. She landed a solid punch to the groin that knocked the wind out of her assailant, and wasted no time in taking out the knees next. She bound the arms, pushing her knee into the back, and had already pinned him down by the time she recognized the back of the Stanford t-shirt.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Sam?"

"Ow, sorry! Just let me up!"

"No! What happened to you? Is this the siren?"

"No, I—ugh—I'm fine, Kat. Just bruised, now."

Kat yanked his arms back harder, making him wince. "If you're not being brainwashed, why the hell would you attack me?"

Sam's groan petered out into a resigned sigh, and he squeezed his eyes shut before answering.

"I was trying to make a point about protecting yourself on jogs. But clearly you've got it under control."

"No fucking shit, Sherlock."

She gladly would have kept him pinned there for the rest of the afternoon, but it was already getting too cold. She got to her feet and grudgingly dragged him upright. At the very least she was able to cherish the pain on his face.

"Hey," she said, brandishing a finger in his face. "Constant vigilance."

Then she punched him, and walked back into the deli.

"Honestly, Sam. I can't believe you'd make such a big deal out of trying to show me up. I mean, hanging back and waiting outside until maybe I got suspicious and came to look for you? I wasn't even wearing my headphones. What a waste."

"It was more spur of the moment," he grunted, taking the seat across from her at the table. "I got held up on the phone. Tried to tell you, but you had your music too loud."

"Whatever. What is it with you and your phone anyway? Feel like I should glue it to your hand at this point."

"Business," Sam assured her sourly. "Got a call from the chief of police? They brought in another guy this morning."

"Great. Another asshole cheating on his wife?"

"Nope. Get this—he killed his mom."

"Oh?" Kat paused mid-bite to raise an eyebrow at him. "That's definitely new. Sure he's one of ours?"

"Should be. He's describing the same kind of trance, lack of motive. Definitely had the same overkill. Kinda glad we're doing the whole lawyer thing. Chief said the house wasn't pretty."

"Ergh, spare me the gore. I guess you wanna talk to the guy? This…?"

"Lenny Bristol," Sam finished. "Yeah, figured we'd stop back at the hotel, take a peek through his finances, and stop by the station. If you're up for talking to another perp."

The apology was clear in his big brown puppy dog eyes, so she decided to let him off the hook for the time being.

"Sure. Just try and keep up with me this time, huh, Winchester?"

Kat pointedly put her headphones back on, slapped him roughly on the shoulder, and jogged out the door.

Back at the hotel, she was able to get to her shower and fresh clothes. She felt better, but honestly the cold hadn't bothered her that much after her throw down with Sam. He was an idiot, but fighting was certainly one way to keep warm and moving. She was almost chipper as she knocked on his hotel door to collect him.

"Hey, Sammy! Let's roll."

"Uh, yup! Just gimme a sec!"

Kat rolled her eyes, but leaned up against the wall to wait for him. She couldn't hear any kind of rummaging inside, no sounds of a rush. So she waited a minute or two before pounding on the door again.

"Come on, Sam. I might have all day, but these perps don't. 'Specially if they're facing death row."

"I know! I'll be there in a minute! Just trying to finish…"

He grumbled something unintelligible. Kat glared at the door, waiting in vain for any further explanation or reassurance. Impatiently, she knocked again. She waited three more seconds, and knocked again. And again. And then decided that she wouldn't stop. She could do this all day.

The door swung open, and suddenly her wrist was in a vice grip.

"You touch this door again," growled a very sleepy Dean, "and I will end you."

"Wow. Don't be a baby."

"I'm not being a baby. You're a baby, baby."

Kat fully intended to argue her point, but Sam was already pushing his way between them and into the hall. He shoved a stack of papers into his briefcase and frantically patted down his hair.

"Sorry, sorry. You ready to go?"

"No, Sam. I thought I'd wait for you so I could have company blow drying my hair."

"Yeah, okay. Let's roll."

The hotel door slammed behind them before they'd even made it a foot down the hall.

"Detective Daredevil's not joining us?" asked Kat, leading the way to the parking lot.

"Nah. Dean's anything but a morning person. And he'll take a fight to the fed suit any day."

"Well that I can agree with."

"Hang on," he chuckled. "You, agreeing with Dean? And since when do you know what Daredevil is?"

"Hey, I know how to use Google. Had to do something while I was waiting on your lazy ass."

"Sorry," Sam apologized yet again as they climbed into the Prius. "I was trying to look through Bristol's finances, but the whole thing is like a wormhole."

"Worse than the other two?"

"Yeah, that's for sure."

"Great," Kat huffed. "So what? Was he banging more than one stripper?"

"No, no. Nothing like that. But the guy had like six credit cards, a bunch of late bills, bounced checks. It was hard to sort through everything. He was definitely having financial trouble."

"Okay, so what was he spending it on? Gambling, drugs…?"

"Hospital bills," Sam said gravely. "Or equipment anyway. No record of extended visits, of hospice care. From what I can tell he was taking care of his mom on his own."

"Yeah," she snorted bitterly, pulling out of the parking lot. "He took care of her alright."

"Kat…"

"Whatever. You find the club charges?"

"Yeah, eventually. It's not as much as the other guys though. I don't know if that means that Lenny was easier to sway, or just that our siren's changing her timetables."

"Guess there's no time to waste then, is there?"

Kat urged the car to go a little faster, something that took several seconds to do. The engine wasn't the most responsive when it came to speed. This didn't go unnoticed by Sam. Thankfully, he kept his amusement to himself. It was a Prius, after all.

Checking in at the station was faster this time around. It seemed like the local defense attorneys were beginning to give up on the whole situation. Lenny Bristol had already been in custody over twelve hours, and they were the only legal team there to meet with him. The guard walked them right back to the interrogation room, where Bristol was already waiting inside. Kat was ready to dive in, but Sam grabbed her wrist before she could open the door.

"Hey, can we…? I just want to take it slow on this one."

"What do you mean?" asked Kat. "We're not exactly swimming in time here, Sam."

"No, I know. It's just…this guy doesn't seem like the others to me. You know, he wasn't married, he wasn't cheating, he didn't have any crazy spending problems. He was just a guy in the wrong place at the wrong time. So maybe we can get his side of the story before you…um…"

"Jump down his throat," Kat finished sourly. "I get it. Compassion, understanding, best behavior. After you."

Lenny Bristol didn't look all that different from the other men they'd interviewed. He had the same washed out skin, nervous hands, and haunted, sunken eyes. But there was something about his face—Kat couldn't put her finger on it—that said this was a more permanent expression. This was not the result of one single night in jail. This was just the result of Lenny's life.

He did not look up when Sam and Kat walked into the room. He did not look up when they sat down at the table across from him. He did not look up when Kat flipped open her notebook, or when Sam said his name. He did not look up until Kat rapped her knuckles against the table, and he looked so surprised that even Kat had to wonder how long they'd been sitting there.

"I didn't mean to," he said immediately. "I don't know why I…I would never have…"

"Mr. Bristol," Sam said gently, "we're…very sorry for your loss."

"My loss?" The man looked between them, half-crazed. "I—I was the one who… How could…?"

His eyes were tearing up, and Kat diverted her gaze down to her notebook. Benson's dead-eyed acceptance had been unsettling, but this was somehow worse. Bristol hadn't made it through any of the stages of grief. He was only eighteen hours out from murdering his own mother. None of this was real to him yet.

"We know this must be difficult," continued Sam. "In situations like this, it always is. We just want to understand what happened."

"What is there to understand?" Bristol choked out. "I…I killed her. I killed my own mother."

"We just want to know why."

"W-Why? I don't—I don't know why! I have never even—I never thought about…!"

He dissolved into shakes again, unable to finish the phrase. Sam turned to Kat, nodding to the poor man. She wasn't sure what he was hoping she could accomplish in his place, but she cleared her throat.

"And we believe you, Mr. Bristol. That's why we'd like to ask you a few questions. Maybe we could help you understand a few things too."

Bristol shuddered to a stop, looking up at her with terrified eyes. It was an expression she recognized immediately. You didn't go through years of therapy without knowing that look. It wasn't her that he was afraid of. It was himself. If he dove in and started asking questions about himself, there was no telling what kind of answers he'd get.

Kat tried to give him a bracing smile.

"My name's Katherine. And this is my partner, Sam. Do you think you'd be able to talk to us about yesterday? Just for a few minutes?"

"Um…yeah. Sure, g-go ahead."

He ran a hand down his face, attempting to sit up straighter in his chair. Kat nodded to Sam, who took the lead again.

"Thank you," he said with a small smile. "So, how much do you remember about yesterday? Is there any time you might have blacked out, or not felt in control?"

"No," Bristol answered gravely. "I…I remember everything."

"Okay. So let's retrace your steps. What did you do during the day?"

"Work, mostly. I do accounting, for real estate. It was a pretty normal day. I got lunch at the deli, I—I stayed at my desk."

"And where did you go after work?"

Bristol stopped again, turning nervously from Sam back to Kat. "I—I went over this with the cops, in my confession. Do I really have to…?"

"We'd just like to hear it in your words," Kat assured him. "We're not cops, Mr. Bristol. It's okay."

He nodded shakily. He closed his eyes before he spoke.

"After…After work, I went to a bar."

"Good," said Sam, glancing at Kat. "Had you been drinking?"

"I had one or two. Nothing crazy. I wasn't drunk."

"Alright. How long did you stay?"

"I don't know. Maybe…half an hour? And then I…I went home."

"Were you alone?"

"Y-Yes."

It would have been obvious that he was lying, even if they hadn't known the answer. Bristol's eyes were glued to the table. He was wringing his hands and shifting in his chair. Kat felt for him, more than she had for Benson or the others. But it wasn't enough to stop Sam from pulling the expense report from his bag.

"This bar you went to. Was that the Honey Wagon?"

"What?" The other man's head snapped up. "No. I mean…I don't know. It might've been."

"Looks like it's the only bar you really go to," said Sam, looking over the papers. "I don't mean to pry, but M&C Entertainment kind of sticks out a bit when most of your spending goes to medical expenses and groceries. And you've been going a lot more often lately."

"Y-Yeah, my mom, she…she was getting worse. I've been kind of stressed."

"Hey, I get it. Sometimes you have to get away from it all."

Bristol nodded, but didn't offer anything else. Sam also decided to keep to himself, ever-so-helpfully. Kat had to lean forward, catching Bristol's eye.

"Is there anyone you talk to while you're there? Maybe one of the dancers, a waitress…?"

"Not really," he answered shiftily. "I mean, they're all pretty nice there. I just…I'm not good with names."

Kat nodded uncertainly. She knew she had to push, but something about Bristol's fragile face made her hesitant. It was Sam that prompted him on, his voice sterner than before.

"Mr. Bristol, we've worked a lot of cases over the years. Cases just like yours. And nine times out of ten, with a crime of this magnitude, do you know what the motive is?"

"Sam…" Kat warned, but Bristol was already shaking his head.

"It's passion. Guy goes to the club, finds a girl that he likes. A girl that makes him forget about all his problems. And then he starts to think—what if it could be just the two of us? What if everything else could go away? Does that sound familiar to you?"

"N-No…"

"Really? Cause I wouldn't blame you. You've got a lot on your shoulders, here. Bills, family, work. I get wanting to escape. But the problem is, these girls—it's their job to give you what you want. They get paid to make you feel like that. It's a fantasy."

"Stop. Just stop."

"Sure, she's pretty. Gorgeous. And she tells you that you're everything to her—but it's not true, is it? Cause where is she now?"

"Just stop! It wasn't like that! She was never like that!"

"Who, Lenny?" Kat asked urgently. "Who wasn't like that?"

"Belle! She isn't—She isn't just some stripper! She's a person! She's—…!"

Bristol froze, his lips trembling. He seemed to realize that he had said too much. Or maybe the reality of Sam's words was catching up to him. He let out a rattling sigh, and sank back into his chair. His chest shook violently, wracked with silent sobs.

Kat shot Sam a look, but he only nodded to her. It was her turn to ask the questions.

"Okay," she sighed, hesitantly reaching forward to pat Lenny's hand. "It's okay."

"I'm not like that!" he said pleadingly, looking up at her with wide eyes. "I don't—I don't go to clubs like that! I don't go out!"

"It's okay, Lenny. I believe you. How did you meet Belle, then?"

"I…I was outside." His voice was still shaking, but Kat nodded encouragingly. He nodded to himself as he continued. "I was outside the bar. I don't…I don't normally go out. Not just because I don't like places like that, but because…well, they're kind of expensive. So whenever I needed a break, I'd just…go for a walk. People watch. There's a bench across the street, and I would just watch people come and go—the—the girls, the customers. And then one day, there…there she was…"

"She came up to you?"

"Yeah. She asked if she could sit next to me, and…I felt really bad, cause I couldn't stop looking at her, you know? But she told me it didn't bother her, and we just got to talking."

"About what?"

"About her job, at first. She was just dancing to pay the bills. Her dad had just passed away, and she was having troubling supporting herself. I told her about my mom and we just—we clicked. So I started going by more often. I—I tipped her extra when I could, so she could pay for rent, and…she would always listen to me about Mom."

"She sounds sweet," Kat managed to offer.

Lenny nodded. "She was—is. She's perfect. Everything I ever wanted."

It was a good thing he had a far off look in his eye. It gave Kat time to glance at Sam again. There was that phrase—everything I ever wanted.

"Lenny," she started gently. "Was Belle with you last night?"

"N-No," he stammered. "I—I already told you, I—I was…"

"It's okay, Lenny," Kat insisted. "She's not in trouble. We just want to know if she was there."

Several seconds passed before he managed to nod.

"Yeah, she was there. But—But only for a little while. And she has nothing to do with this!"

"Alright. What were the two of you doing?"

"We were…well…um, we had s-sex and then…then we just talked. About how I took care of her and…what we could do in the future, if…if…"

His shoulders began to shake again. He hid his face in his hands, and this time Kat could see the real tears seeping between his fingers. It made her heart clench.

"I think that's all we need to hear," said Sam, collecting his things. "Mr. Bristol, we'll be in touch."

"No!" Lenny jumped, the cuffs rattling around his wrists. "Belle, she—she didn't have anything to do with this! I did this! Don't—please don't look for her! I'm glad she ran! I don't want her mixed up in this! She's—She's a good person! I'm the one that did this!"

It took everything Kat had to stand from her chair.

"I understand. Thank you for your time, Mr. Bristol."

He was still crying when they left.

Sam led the way back to the Prius, nodding his thanks at the desk clerk as they left the precinct. Kat was grateful that he didn't try and talk to her. It gave her a few minutes to collect herself. None of the other interviews had shaken her like this. Maybe it was the men, the simple fact that they'd cheated that made it easy to write them off. But Lenny…the only person in his world had been his mother. Kat knew what that was like. For this woman, this creature to take that from him, to make him the one that killed her…she didn't even want to imagine.

"You alright?" asked Sam, once they were safely inside the car.

"Yeah." It was a lie, but a confident one. "It's just…a lot."

"Being good cop takes a toll sometimes."

"I thought we were both supposed to be good cop. What the hell was up with you in there? What happened to compassionate, understanding Sam Winchester?"

"Didn't feel like it was working," he said with a shrug. "A guy like that—only child, taking care of his mom, limited social life—he probably spent his whole life around women. He was a lot more comfortable with you, and he wasn't gonna believe any sympathy from a guy like me."

"Right," Kat snorted. "Cause as the tall, handsome lawyer, you're automatically an asshole."

"Some people see it that way, yeah."

She had another retort about his vanity, but for some reason she couldn't bring herself to find the words. Her laughter died in her throat, and her eyes drifted to her rearview mirror. The precinct stood in the reflection, imposing and grey.

"We can't help him, can we?"

"No," Sam sighed, not sounding surprised. "We're not real lawyers. And even if we were, we wouldn't be able to make a case. It's like Benson said. The stripper didn't do it."

"But she did. She did do it. And because of that, Lenny's gonna die just like his mom. Two victims for the price of one."

Kat had to tear her gaze away from the building. She knew she was being naïve. People paid the price like this every day. But she didn't have to think about it every day.

"I know it's frustrating," said Sam. "But we're gonna get her. Maybe we can't help Lenny, but we can make sure the siren doesn't get anyone else."

"Good. Cause I want this thing fried." She jammed the key into the ignition, perhaps a little more violently than she should have, and the Prius rumbled to life. "First thing's first, let's catch Dean up to speed and call Bobby again. Hopefully he's got something by now."

"Yeah, about that…maybe you should take me back to the motel."

"Well, yeah, Sam. I thought that was a given."

"No, I mean…maybe you should drop me off. And keep driving."

Kat stopped herself from kicking the car in gear. Instead she turned to gape at him in surprise. He looked conflicted, worried even, and would not meet her eye.

"And why the fuck would I do that?"

"It's like I said before. Lenny's different than the other guys the siren's targeted. He wasn't married, and he didn't have a girlfriend. But it didn't stop her from picking him. The siren just told him to kill his mother instead."

"Your point?"

Sam's face screwed up in frustration, a contrast to his disbelieving smile.

"Kat, you've worked cases with us before. You know how it gets if Dean and I don't have a plan, especially when we don't know what we're up against. Sometimes, we have to get up close and personal."

"Yeah, I'd hope so. What part of 'I want this thing fried' did you not get?"

"I mean that we're in the line of fire," he said resolutely. "Look, it wouldn't be the first time Dean or I got twisted on the job. And if someone brainwashed me and told me to go kill the woman I was closest to…that's not a risk I'd want you to take."

Kat blinked at him.

"The…? Me? Oh, come on, Sam."

"Come on, what? I don't know if you've noticed, but Dean and I don't have any family. And we don't have a lot of friends."

"Trust me, I've noticed," she laughed. "But you've still got—there's women in your life, okay? You've got Ellen, Jo, Ruby even."

"Kat…"

"Well, I don't know if demons count as women, but I imagine you're a lot closer with her than you are with me. And seeing as you're fucking her, she probably qualifies."

"Kat." Sam's voice was solid as he stared at her. "I'm being serious."

"I know you are," Kat said, almost indulgently. "And I'm flattered, truly. But you're not gonna shake me that easy. Even if I was the most important woman in your life, avoiding the siren seems pretty straightforward. I just need you and Dean to keep it in your pants until the case is over. No sex, no brainwashing. Easy peasy."

"Yeah," Sam scoffed. "Easy for you to say."

"Oh my God, shut up. I know Dean's a manwhore, but you don't need to sound so douche-y about it. Your life must be so hard with women throwing themselves at you left and right."

"That is not what I meant."

"Yeah, well that's how you sounded. The tragic life of the Winchester brothers—too many women and not enough condoms."

Sam spluttered and burst into laughter, Kat snickering as she finally put the Prius into drive and put the police station behind them.