Original subtitles

♪ I let my old life tie me

to the tracks ♪

♪ I let my best friend ♪

♪ Tell me you can

never go back ♪

♪ I spent my long years learning

to get out of the way ♪

- Text Jessica.

Okay, what would you like

to say to... Jessica?

On my way.

Don't leave without me.

Your text to Jessica says,

"On highway...

car keys and tai chi."

Ready to send it?

- Cancel! Cancel!

- Cancel.

Text Jessica.

Okay, what would you like

to say to... Jessica?

I'm almost there, period.

Are you ready to go, period.

Uh, uh, question mark! Ques...

Your text to Jessica says,

"Lost my hair.

Are you ready to go

on your period?"

Ready to send it?

No. No.

Hey, buddy!

Hey! Get out of the road!

Hey! Hey, get out

of the street, man!

Come on, there's... come on,

you got to be careful, man!

There's cars coming! Come on!

Get off me!

All right!

Just slow down! Slow down!

- Get out of the road, jackass!

- I know.

There's a guy running

across the street!

Hey! No, no! Wait! Hey!

- Come back! Come back! Wait!

- I said get off me!

Get them off me!

- Wait!

Get them off me!

Oh!

Bone up on your manners

and your vitamin C deficiencies,

crime tigers,

because we're going to the

Peachtree capital of America--

Atlanta, Georgia.

What's in Atlanta?

Uh, local PD

has invited us in

for an equivocal

death investigation.

This is Albert Stillman.

He is an investigative

journalist

for the local paper.

Three days ago, he disappeared

on his way to talk

to a source for a story.

And last night...

he was killed,

wandering into traffic.

Wait, "equivocal death"

means we help determine

homicide versus suicide, right?

- Or death by misadventure.

- My point.

So, what happened

to Mr. Stillman was tragic,

but what's to equivocate?

I mean, he had some

sort of mental break--

end of story.

Except that he had no history

of mental illness.

- Could this have been

drug-induced? -Maybe. Uh...

one of his most recent stories

was an exposé

on an inner-city drug ring.

And he received death threats

for that one.

Well, dealers wouldn't let him

loose in traffic though.

If somebody wanted him killed,

why not just shoot him?

Well, we have

to reconstruct his life

to answer that question.

Reporters like Stillman

don't just snap.

Something or someone

drove him insane.

If you didn't put it there,

who put it there?

- Somebody else did. You have the

wrong guy! -Who put it there?

If you didn't do it,

who did it?

You have the wrong guy.

Who did it, Albert?!

I don't know!

Who did it?!

- Why don't you let me go?

- ...is that what you want?

- No, I don't.

If that's what you want,

then see it!

- I don't see anything!

- See it! You know!

- Why don't you let me go

- You know! You know!

- and we can find out...

I'll go with you to find out

who did this to you, okay?

I'm right here.

There's nowhere to go.

Do you see it?

Albert...

Do you see it?

Answer the question!

- You see it.

- No, I don't...

- You see it! -I don't see it!

- Say you see it!

- I don't see anything.

I don't see

anything!

Please, let me go!

Wait... wait...

- What is it?

- You see something, Albert.

What is it? Oh, dear God!

Yes, yes, I see it.

God! Yes, I see it!

I see it!

- I see it! I see it! I see it!

- Albert, you do see it!

I see it! I see it!

I see it!

"What's the matter,

you dissentious rogues?

"That, rubbing the poor itch

of your opinion

make yourself scabs?"

William Shakespeare.

You can see why Albert Stillman

was nominated for awards.

He wrote pieces on the homeless

children, police corruption,

bankrolling local strip clubs.

My kind of muckraker.

Fights for the little guy.

Those are also

the kind of stories

that put him

in harm's way though.

Any one of them could have

gotten him killed.

Doesn't fit this M.O. though.

We need to consider

the likelihood

that there is no UnSub;

that whatever happened

to Stillman could've

just been an accident.

What do we know about

the source he was going

to see the night he disappeared?

Oy! I have an update

on that, mademoiselle.

I have been talking

and working with

Atlanta PD's perfectly lovely

IT expert...

"Perfectly lovely" is

code for not as good

as you, right, baby girl?

Moi? Throw shade?

Never. Let's just say

with a lot my help,

we've managed to narrow down

the possibilities

to a throwaway cell

that called him

hours before his disappearance.

So, it's a dead end then.

Yeah, and not the only one.

Uh, Stillman's editor

has dealt us

an "aw, come on" surprise

by filing an injunction

to halt the autopsy

of the recently deceased's body.

Oh, we have jurisdiction here.

That's pointless.

And suspicious.

Thanks, Garcia.

All right, when we land,

Kate and I will go talk

to the editor,

find out what he's hiding. Dave,

you and Morgan re-interview

the witness who tried to save

Stillman's life. Reid and JJ?

Let's move forward with the M.E.

We're not gonna

let an injunction

stop the investigation.

So?

Thanks.

Did he say anything

else to you besides

"Get off me"?

No, he just...

just kind of screamed it

over and over and over.

What else was he doing?

I don't know, man.

The guy was a schizo.

Okay, I hear you.

But any details you can

give us about what he was saying

or how he was saying it

might help us figure out

what happened to him.

The whole time, he was...

hitting the air.

Like he was fighting someone?

Yeah, except I don't think

it was someone.

I-I think it was something.

A lot of somethings

because right before he...

you know,

he looked right at me

and he said...

Get them off me!

"Them."

You think he said,

"Get them off me"?

Yeah.

Yeah, I think so.

What do you think it was?

I don't know,

but it couldn't have been good.

Agents, I appreciate

you coming down here,

but I have nothing to say to you

about the injunction.

Newspaper editor telling

the FBI, "No comment"?

- That's ironic.

- I think we're done here.

No, sir, we're not.

This is a pointless exercise.

Tomorrow we'll be back

with a warrant,

and we'll get the answers

we came for.

Unless that's the point.

To waste our time and buy

some more of your own.

"Time"? To do what?

Get ahead of the story.

One of your own is dead.

That reflects badly on you.

Albert Stillman deserves

some privacy.

He was my friend.

Then cooperate.

Because if a friend of mine died

the way yours did,

I wouldn't rest until I got

to the bottom of it.

His behavior

seemed like psychosis from binge

methamphetamine or cocaine use.

Go the other direction.

Benzos.

Downers.

For his back and when he

couldn't get any more,

I tried to get it for him,

but by then

he wasn't interested.

'Cause he'd moved onto something

cheaper like street heroin?

That's why I filed

the injunction.

I didn't want you

or the police to look at

a toxicology report and write

him off as another junkie.

I think there's

more to it than that.

And so do we.

What do you know about the

source he was going to meet?

Not much.

All he told me

he was writing a piece

on, uh, vaccinations.

I'd like to see his notes.

He kept it all up here.

Said it was the one hard drive

nobody could hack or subpoena.

So, whatever

that last story was,

it died with him.

How we doing, beautiful?

Uh, my perfectly-coiffed eyebrow

is furrowed in concern.

Do you know

that throwaway cell phone

that called Albert Stillman?

- Yeah. -It made another call

this morning

to a Dr. William Suri.

He is a research scientist

of entomology of all things.

Baby girl, hold on a second.

This guy work

at Barnett College?

I know you guys are psychic,

but how did you do that?

They've been dealing with some

college incident all morning.

- I'll call you back.

Officer?

The incident at the college--

what do we know?

All we got is

that there was a fight

in the research lab,

but nobody saw anything.

It's locked up now.

Detectives are heading over.

All right, we need that address.

No forced entry.

Dr. Suri let his attacker in.

This wasn't an assault--

it was an abduction.

What do we know about this guy?

Well, according

to his assistant,

he was published,

but controversial.

"Controversial"?

We're talking about bugs, right?

He had extreme theories

on the impact humans have

on insect mating habits.

This is probably

the doctor's cell phone.

Whoever did this made sure

to leave it behind.

Didn't want us

tracing him through GPS.

Speaks to the UnSub's

organization.

It also means this isn't

an equivocal death

investigation anymore.

This is serial.

Mm, Spence.

The M.E. has something

we need to see right away.

You...

What are you doing to me?

What do you want?

You said you wanted proof.

So you attack me?

You bring me to this place?!

Where are we?

Do you see it?

Please tell me

that is not my blood.

No...

No, it's mine.

But don't you see anything

strange about it?

I-I'd need to look at it

under a slide, run some tests...

What are you talking about?!

It's right there

in front of you-- it's black.

No, it's not.

- Yes, it is, yes, it...

- What are you talking about?

You corrupted the sample.

How could I have

corrupted the sample?!

Look at me!

Look what you're doing to me--

I'm tied to a chair!

Now, I-I have listened to you.

I-I have entertained

all of your theories.

But what you have

described to me...

...it is not possible.

It might be real to you.

But that is...

that is because you are sick.

Yeah.

You're right.

Let me show you

what it feels like

to be sick like I am.

Duct-tape residue was found

on his wrist, ankles and neck.

So he was held against his will?

Yeah.

It's the rest of it

I can't explain.

The victim's own skin was found

under his fingernails.

The fingernails were,

in turn, gouged

into different parts

of his body.

He broke them off

scratching himself?

Yeah, and kept scratching

all the way down

to his subcutaneous layer

on his index and middle fingers.

Are these track marks consistent

with heroin abuse?

Oh, yeah.

Tox screen came back

positive, too.

When was the last time

he shoot up?

Based on scar tissue,

I'd say about a week ago.

Okay, so he was kicking

when the UnSub held him.

One of the withdrawal

symptoms of that is

that it feels like

your skin's on fire.

You can't help but scratch.

Let's think about this

for a second.

Stillman was bound,

but the UnSub cut him loose.

He wanted him to scratch.

That tells us

this isn't torture.

If it were torture,

he would have never taken

the duct tape off.

What if it's an expression

of his own pain?

Maybe the UnSub wants

his victims

to feel what's going on

inside of him.

Which is?

Welts on the skin

behind his ear.

Some sort of external irritant

the UnSub introduced.

Yep, I saw that, too.

Lab's running the tests.

I don't know, a bite maybe?

Wait, wait.

Wait!

Hey, wh-what are you doing?

What are you doing?

Please! PI...

Please. No, no, no.

No, no, please don't...

please don't do this.

No, you're right!

I-I believe you.

I believe you, please.

Please don't do this!

I believe you,

p-please don't do this!

Please, we can talk about this!

You're right-- please stop it!

Don't do this, please.

No, don't walk away.

We-we can talk about this.

I-I'll run some more tests.

Please, please stop it.

No. No, no.

No, stop it.

Oh, no, please!

No more, please!

Please stop it. No.

No, no, you're right!

Stop it, stop it now!

No.

Please don't do this.

Please stop it.

Oh, stop it.

I can't breathe!

Oh, please!

Stop it!

So we found William Suri.

Yeah, a garbage truck

almost ran over him

this morning.

Our UnSub didn't

hold him as long.

Uh-uh, then he shot

him, point blank in the head.

Big change in M.O.

Not necessarily.

He shows less signs

of scratching,

but the bite marks

are definitely there.

So the UnSub wants

this guy to itch,

the good doctor doesn't

play along.

Bang, he ends

the torture early.

I don't think this is

torture for the UnSub.

I think it's a delusion.

Can you hand me some tweezers?

What kind of delusion?

Ugh.

Bugs.

We need to deliver the profile.

We believe the UnSub

we're looking for

suffers from

delusional parasitosis,

a condition in which

the patient believes

that he is being attacked

or infested by bugs.

He takes his victims

and covers them in insects,

cockroaches, specifically.

We think it's

to convince his victims

that they share

in his condition.

Is he trying to get them sick

so he can kill them?

Murder isn't his goal,

attention is.

Believe it or not, this UnSub

is crying out for help.

He kidnapped

an investigative journalist

because he wanted

Albert Stillman to write

a story about the bugs

inside of him.

Unfortunately, because Stillman

was suddenly experiencing

opiate withdrawal, he was

already hallucinating insects.

And this led

to a psychotic break.

So the UnSub changed tactics.

He kidnapped a controversial

research scientist

who he thought would be more

willing to believe him.

But we think Dr. Suri

recognized his condition

for the mental illness

that it is.

That's why he killed him

so quickly.

It is important that we do not

label this UnSub

as crazy or insane

to the media or press.

He's desperate to confirm

his own self-diagnosis,

and he'll be violent

towards those who don't.

And this kind of delusion

goes hand-in-hand

with conspiracy thinking.

He probably believes

the bugs are part of a plot

involving the government

to keep him sick.

When he's alone, he'll be

paranoid and disorganized.

His body will be mutilated

from self-harm.

But his search for a fellow

believer will give him focus

and allow him to appear

calm and rational.

We should be canvassing

the entomology

and infectious disease fields,

as well as reviewing

hospital intake records.

This UnSub has searched

high and low

for treatment for his condition,

and we believe

that he'll return

to one of these locations

for his next victim.

Thank you.

I think that we have time

for one more share.

Anybody?

Go ahead, Jane.

So I went back

to the dermatologist,

and she again tried

to tell me what my problem was.

You know, she said

that it was maybe mold

or static electricity.

I mean, can you think

about that?

That what's going on

inside my body could be...

because of static electricity.

Just...

And then she had the nerve

to try and sell me a salve.

And when I looked to see

what was inside the salve,

it was St. John's wort.

I mean, really?

You think I haven't already

tried St. John's wort?

Just...

And I can see it...

really clearly now, you know?

It's not me.

It's society, you know?

They want me to be sick.

'Cause if I'm sick,

if it's me,

they can keep ignoring me.

But I won't be ignored anymore.

Thank you for letting me share.

Okay, why don't we

stand up and join hands

and end our meeting

with our prayer.

Lord, grant me the wisdom

to see the light...

Hi. I'm Leo.

...strength

to believe the truth,

serenity with my body,

and courage to know...

There's

an inherent contradiction

in who this UnSub is.

Only one?

All right, humor me.

This guy has a phobia

of insects, right?

So why subject his victims

to the very thing he hates?

It's not a phobia.

Well, maybe not,

but the bugs disgust him.

Labels are important here.

The original name

for this was entomophobia,

which is, yes,

the fear-slash-disgust

of being bitten, being stung or

the fear of future infestation.

But if you have

delusional parasitosis,

you believe

you're already infested.

Present tense, not future tense.

So his worst fear has come true.

What he wants now is exposure.

He believes if society

and the scientific community

take him seriously,

maybe he'll get relief.

Yeah, but that's impossible

if it's all in his head.

The more people

that tell him that,

the more angry he's gonna get.

Which is why he'll take

solace in people

who are as frustrated as he is.

Guys, there's a suspect pool

we've been missing all along.

I'm here for helping.

Garcia, I'm going

to run through a series

of debated and controversial

diseases--I want you

to tell me if there are

any support groups in the area.

Hit me.

- Fibromyalgia?

No.

Chronic fatigue syndrome?

Nope.

Recurrent Lyme disease?

Negative.

Morgellons?

There's a Magellan's Astronomy

Club that meets on Tuesdays...

No, Morgellons.

M-O-R-G-E-L-L-O-N-S.

Oh, those vowels will get ya.

Checking now.

I'll bite, what's Morgellons?

It's a syndrome

where sufferers believe

they have disease-causing

fibers under their skin.

They collect them, only to later

be told by dermatologists

that all they found

is lint, dead skin

or their own picked scabs.

Sounds like it's

on the OCD spectrum.

There's a lot of overlap there;

there's also patients

who insist the fibers are

insect-like in nature.

Yahtzee, there's

a Morgellons group

that gets together tonight,

actually-- just missed them.

Garcia, we need

an address. -Done.

JJ, you and Morgan go

and see if they'll talk to us.

No, no, no, no.

The drinking water.

Drinking wa...?

You think they put it

in the drinking water?

Yeah, that's the easiest way

to infect us.

That means everyone's sick.

Everyone is sick.

See, but you and I, we... we

react to it differently, right?

We feel it differently.

It-it's what makes us special.

So if this thing that I have...

That we have.

...that we have is real...

Oh, it's very real.

How do I get people

to believe us?

You know, I was getting

really close,

that's when they tried

to kill me.

They tried to kill you?

- Shh...

- When you worked at...

Well, how do you live with that?

I mean, they could just come

and get you at any time.

Yeah, but actually,

I'm grateful,

because whatever they did to me,

it turned up the volume, okay?

It improved my intuition,

my-my instincts.

When something's wrong,

it comes out more.

While we've been sitting here,

it hasn't come out once.

That tells me something.

Yeah.

I haven't felt it, either.

See?

Maybe that's the cure.

You and me.

Maybe.

How bad does it get for you?

Pretty bad.

Do you want to see?

Yeah, but... not here.

Let's get out of here.

Why am I not surprised

that the FBI is showing up

at my meetings?

Look, we're just asking

if you can think of anyone

who might fit our profile.

Oh, I'll tell you what I think.

I think that this is

the same tactic

that the FBI pulls

over and over again.

Occupy, WTO,

anti-war groups.

Only this time,

you people are really scraping

the bottom of the barrel.

I'll bet that you even

worked out a little shakedown

speech on the way over.

"Hey, weirdoes,

"we support your right

for free assembly,

"but there might be a serial

killer among you,

so watch your back."

Right?

You want us scared.

You want us isolated.

That way, it's easier for you to

tell us Morgellons is made up.

Ms. Randall,

we have no opinion

about your condition

one way or the other.

Do you see this man?

His name is Albert Stillman.

And this man, Dr. William Suri.

Do you see him?

This is not made up.

- This is real.

The man we're looking for

thinks he has cockroaches

inside of him.

He'd be quiet,

not demonstrative.

Probably not comfortable

sharing to the entire group,

but very convincing one-on-one.

Ms. Randall?

Do you know anyone like that?

No.

No one.

What makes you think

that he would even show up here?

'Cause your group would listen

to what he has to say.

And you'd believe him.

But that doesn't mean

we're like him.

No. It doesn't.

But it could mean

you're his next target.

Are you sure?

Yeah.

You ready?

Okay.

One...

- Ooh! Oh...

Sorry.

I didn't want you to tense up.

No.

No, it's okay.

It's worse when you tense up.

No, it's... it's perfect.

Uh...

can you hand me the slide?

Yeah.

Okay.

Okay...

All right.

All right, look.

They should be wiggling.

Can you see them?

Please see them.

Yeah.

I see them.

Thank you.

Are they only in your blood?

No...

they're everywhere.

Tell me again that it's real.

It's real.

Can you heal me?

Yeah.

I can.

Where are we on the ER intake?

Garcia weeded out

the mental health transfers.

No one fits.

Our best bet is still

the Morgellons group.

When's their next

meeting? -Next week.

- That's too long to wait.

Well, we could take

another shot at the leader.

There was definitely something

she was holding back.

You had thought

she wouldn't rattle.

Well, she won't.

We're gonna have to find

some other way in.

Top of the morning,

fellow leprechauns.

Where did Lisa Randall go after

she met with JJ and Morgan?

According to her credit card...

drugstores.

Five of them, to be precise.

And she bought

a single item five times.

- Diaper rash cream.

All right, thanks.

JJ, see if she'll come in

and talk.

Reid, I need you to go

to the drugstore.

Mm...

Hi.

Hey.

Did you sleep?

I don't ever really sleep.

Hi, Jane.

Honey, come on,

quick like a bunny.

- Who is that?

- Oh, it's Lisa.

What the hell is she doing here?

Well, she takes me

to meetings sometimes.

Jane, open this door!

Open this door right now!

Hi, honey. It's me.

Are you in there?

Jane, hey, open this door!

Get rid of her.

Calm down.

She's one of us, right?

Are you in there?

- Don't.

I want to see who it is.

Hello?

- It's probably...

Don't.

Quiet.

Yes, Agent Jareau.

Yes.

Yes, I'll come down

to the station.

She's... she's talking

to the police?

Why would she talk

to the police?

No. No, no.

She called somebody an agent.

That's-that's not the police,

- that's the Feds.

- What do they want with us?

I'll take care of it.

Just hold on.

Ms. Randall, I'm Aaron Hotchner

with the FBI.

I have already told

the other agents

everything that I have to say.

Do you know why you itch?

Well, my neurologist

tried to explain it

as simply as he could to me

so I would stop coming

to his office.

My amygdala, which is the

emotional center of my brain,

has hijacked

my prefrontal cortex,

which is the rational side.

So in times of stress, I itch.

But look at me now.

I'm in the FBI office

being questioned.

One would think that would be

a very stressful thing

for anyone

and I'm not itching.

How old was she when she died?

Excuse me?

Did she make it

to her third birthday?

I don't know who you talked to,

but you have no right...

I haven't talked to anyone.

I'm trained to see

what's in front of me.

I noticed that you don't wear

a wedding ring

under your gloves.

I think a condition like yours

makes it difficult

to build intimate relationships.

I know you looked everywhere

for some sort of relief.

Doctors, prescriptions,

antihistamines.

None of it worked.

Nothing until you found this.

This works, doesn't it?

Yes.

Someone who's not a mother

doesn't stumble

on a cure like that by accident.

What was her name?

Olivia.

She was a preemie,

so she was in and out

of hospitals.

A lot.

Her skin, at the end...

I guess it was from the tests

and everything.

I was a new parent.

So, you know that feeling of...

"Am I doing it right?

Am I helping?"

You know?

'Cause you just don't know.

I'm also trained to listen

to what people say,

and that question--

"Am I helping?"--

you ask yourself that every day,

don't you?

I know you help the people

who come to your meetings.

I know you want to help us.

I do?

Yes, you do.

Because there's a man

who comes to your meetings

who puts you on edge.

And your instincts

of self-preservation

are telling you

not to trust him.

And those instincts

are always right.

Who is he?

His name is Leo.

I don't have his number

or anything.

But I did see him

talking to one of my friends

last night, Jane.

I knocked on her door

this morning.

She didn't answer.

But there was someone inside,

because I heard them whispering.

I need Jane's information

immediately.

Jane Posner,

this is the FBI, open up!

Oh, my God. Oh, my God.

Open the door, Jane.

- No.

No, he was right.

We're not looking for you,

- we're looking for Leo.

- He's not here.

- He's gone.

Clear!

And you're never gonna find him.

Thank you so much.

Yes, ma'am.

Have you ever heard

of a folie à deux, Jane?

It's where two people

suffer from the same

delusional belief.

We're not delusional.

He gets me.

All right.

Then tell us where he is

so we can understand

what the two of you have.

You'll kill him.

We're not killers.

We're his best hope

for getting better.

All we want to do is get him

the help he needs.

Why should I believe you?

You already tried

to kill him once.

When was that?

Don't play dumb.

With the vaccinations.

What vaccinations?

I don't have

to talk to you, so...

No. All you gotta do is listen.

'Cause the closer

we get to the truth,

the more you're gonna be

compelled to itch.

The first victim who met Leo

was gonna write a story

about vaccinations.

Is that how this all started?

Because Leo got vaccinations?

Mm. That's a yes.

Find out who gave him

the vaccinations, we find Leo.

Was it his doctor?

Nope, it wasn't his doctor.

Must have been work, then.

Was it the military?

Did Leo serve?

It's not military.

Did he work in medicine?

Is it the hospital?

Is that where he worked?

Or was it something

more like infectious diseases?

'Cause you'd have

to get vaccinated for that.

Like the Center

for Disease Control,

right here in Atlanta.

Leave him alone.

Let's go.

What did you tell them?

- I didn't say anything.

- Yes, you did.

- No, I didn't, I didn't

say anything. -Yes, you did.

Let's go. Go.

Leo Jenkins, haven't

thought of him in a while.

Our search told us he

worked here over six months ago,

but his address isn't current.

Yeah, he asked me to send

his last check

to a different address.

He was pretty paranoid

by the end.

Because of the vaccinations?

Yeah, which he didn't even need.

I mean, he was a low level

lab assistant, for God's sake.

We were trying to help him.

Why would you give him shots

he didn't need?

Leo had a painful case

of shingles

in his left arm.

One of the docs

around here gave him

the antiviral acyclovir,

which, uh, deadened the nerves

in his arm altogether.

Here's his address.

How did that lead

to cockroaches?

Your brain

and nervous system work

on a best-guess feedback loop.

Your nerves might be dead,

but your brain

hasn't figured that out yet.

It's still sending stimuli

to the dead nerves

in an attempt

to get them to react.

Like an amputee who has feeling

in his phantom limb.

Exactly.

Leo started to scratch

and he couldn't stop.

We told him the feelings

would come back

when the drugs wore off,

but he insisted

that we'd put, uh,

cockroach larvae in his,

uh, vaccine.

That it was a conspiracy,

that we were all trying

to kill him.

We tried almost everything

to talk him out of it.

Well, almost everything.

What didn't you try?

Leo, the FBI is looking for you.

Yeah, I know they are.

What I don't know

is who you are.

I've had to rethink everything

I know about you.

Like in the meetings,

when you shared about pulling

the fibers from your body,

and you said they felt

like spider legs.

You talked about how

that made you feel crazy,

'cause you're afraid

of spider legs.

But is that true?

Are you afraid of spiders, Lisa?

Yes.

- You are?

- Yes.

You don't have to do this.

No, I do have to. I do have to,

because, see, I don't know

what the truth is anymore.

- No. -So you and I

are gonna have a little chat.

Come on, Leo.

I'll just tell you anything

that you want to know.

Just tell me

what you want to know.

It's simple; who you work for.

I don't...

I don't work for anybody.

Who do you work for?!

No one!

- Who do you work for?!

I don't work for anybody!

I'll tell you, but I just

don't work for...

I don't know what

you want me to say.

- You're unemployed? You're

lying. -I don't know what...

Who do you work for? Okay.

We'll keep going. We'll keep

going until you can give me...

- Who do you work for?!

- Oh! I don't work for anybody!

- Who do you work for?

I don't work for anybody!

It's very simple!

- Who do you work for?!

- FBI!

- Don't move.

Oh, God.

Of course.

She works for you, doesn't she?

We're not here for her.

We're here to talk to you.

How about you let her go

- and we'll do that?

- You want to talk?

Then how come these things

in my arms are going crazy, huh?

I know how this goes, okay?

I know how this goes;

you shoot me,

and then you cover up

the whole thing.

- That's how it goes.

- Is it happening now?

Of course it's happening

to me now.

Don't tell me you don't see it.

Come on, you see it.

You see it.

I can make it go away.

Now,

is that your phone?

Yeah, that's my phone.

Don't... What are you doing?

Now,

look at the camera.

What? I've shot video footage

of myself a million times.

You guys do something to it

and the image is gone.

It's gone.

You guys do something to it.

I'm not shooting video.

This is a reflection.

Now, look at it. Go ahead, look.

Look at your arm.

Is it going away?

That's a trick.

It's no trick.

How did you do that?

We can make them

go away forever.

But you have to let her go, Leo.

What?

Leo?

How the hell do you know

my name?

Don't move, don't even flinch.

- Get them off, get them off,

get them off, -It's okay.

- get them off.

- I got them.

See him, see him, see him,

see him?

- Right there, right there.

- I got him.

I got him.

Oh, I got him.

I got him.

So that's it?

You've ruined my life,

and now I'm free to go?

You're not an accessory.

You didn't know

what Leo was doing.

So, yeah, you're free to go.

You killed him, didn't you?

I told you, we're not killers.

I don't believe you.

You used me.

You tricked me.

So you could get him.

Jane, hey.

Jane, hey, hey,

would you just listen to me

- for a second, okay?

- Get away from me.

Okay, yeah, I had a job to do,

and I'm not gonna apologize

for that, but that doesn't mean

that this is over.

Leo, he still needs you.

How?

He has a good chance

of pleading insanity,

and he is gonna need someone

on his side

to explain his condition

to the court.

Yeah, 'cause if he's insane,

you could put him away forever.

Of course you didn't kill him,

'cause that would make

a martyr out of him,

but if he's crazy,

no one

would ever know what I know.

Nobody!

Which is that he is right!

Okay? About the government,

and the drinking water,

and you,

and all of it!

He was gonna kill Lisa.

He-he wouldn't do that.

I was there.

He had a gun to her head.

Mm. Lies.

Lies, lies and more lies.

All right,

and you FBI jack-booted thugs

will do anything

to protect yourselves

from him exposing you as

the filthy liars that you are.

Rossi, that was

a pretty gutsy move.

How'd you know

it was gonna work?

The doc at the CDC

told us about something

they wanted to try

but never got around to.

It's called a mirror box.

Oh, I've read

about that treatment.

- What's this treatment?

- It's for amputees

with searing pain in

their phantom limbs.

Basically, you take a patient,

you put them in front

of a mirror,

and you tell them

to conduct a symphony,

to wave or just to relax.

When their brain sees

what's not there,

the pain goes away.

And since the UnSub

had dead nerves in his arm

due to the shingles antiviral...

You could argue that his itch

was the same thing

as phantom limb pain.

I mean, from a brain

nervous-system feedback loop.

My hope was that the trick

would make the itch go away,

and it did,

for a few seconds, anyway.

I can understand

being driven crazy

by something you can't scratch,

but killing people over it?

That's what surprises me.

There was one documented case

about a woman

who couldn't stop scratching,

even when she was asleep.

She woke up one morning,

realizing she had scratched

through her own scalp,

her skull and directly

into her brain tissue.

Okay, on that note,

our ride's here.

How did it go with Jane?

She blames us for everything.

Now she's gonna go

back to the group,

and we'll be their new excuse

for why they can't get better.

How do we help

somebody like that?

Well, one of them's

feeling better already.

♪ Gum trees ♪

♪ Put me at ease ♪

♪ Their tall gray limbs ♪

♪ Their sheltering greens ♪

♪ And though I ♪

♪ Like to roam far ♪

♪ Sometimes I long ♪

♪ To be where I'm from... ♪

"Getting rid of a delusion

makes us wiser

than getting hold of a truth."

Ludwig Borne.

♪ A shy little breeze ♪

♪ Gathers with me ♪

♪ I sit and I gaze

at the space ♪

♪ Where you used to be. ♪