~*****~

"So, what's it like-- being an FBI guy?" The woman in a jewelry store flirts with Dean.

"Well, it's dangerous." Dean answers. "You know... and the secrets we got to keep-- oh, countless secrets. But mostly, it's-- it's lonely."

Sam and I exchanged annoyed looks as he continued to flirt. "I so know what you mean." The girl answers.

"Helena was the head buy. She-- she was family, you know?" The store owner sighed softly as he approached Sam and I. "She said it herself every year at the Christmas party. She said we were the only family she had."

"So, there were never any signs that she'd do something like this?" I inquire softly.

"No... still can't believe it, even now." The store owner sighed. "That night, Helena came back to the store after closing, cleaned out all the display cases and the safe. Edgar, our night watchman-- He caught her in the act." I hummed softly as I crossed my hands over my front. "He didn't know what to do. He'd known her for years. He called me at home."

"And that's when she took his gun?" Sam asked.

"She shot him in the face." He gasped softly. "I heard him die... over the phone."

"Any idea what her motive could've been?" Sam continues.

"What motive? It makes no sense. Why steal all those diamonds, all that jewelry and then, what, just dump it somewhere? Just hide it and then go home. And kill her herself..." He breathed softly.

"She killed her self?" I hum.

"The cops said she sat in the bath and dropped the hair dryer. She fried herself. Didn't they tell you?" The store owner asked. "I couldn't even stomach seeing the security footage."

"So, you never saw the footage for yourself, then?" I question.

"The police -- they took all the tapes first thing." He answered softly.

"Of course they did," Dean hummed as he gazed down at a newly acquired number. Sam and I gave him a harsh glare.

~*****~

"This is it," Dean hummed as we pulled up in front of Mr. Resnick's house. "Friggin' cops." Dean complained.

"They're just doing their job, Dean." I mention dryly.

"No, they're doing our job, only they don't know it, so they suck at it." Dean retorted. "Talk to me about this bank."

"Milwaukee National Trust-- it was hit about a month ago," I explain softly.

"Same M.O. as they jewelry store?" Dean inquires.

"Yep. Inside job, longtime employee, the, 'Never In A Million Years' type." Sam adds. "Dude robs the bank, then goes home and supposedly commits suicide."

"Resnick was the security guard on duty?" Dean asks. Ron

"Yeah, he was actually beaten unconscious by the teller who heisted the place." Sam explains.

"Oh god," Dean hisses lightly.

"Yeah." Sam knocks onto the door. "Mr. Resnick! Ronald Resnick."

A light burst on the porch, causing the three of us to wince in surprise. "Son of a--" Dean growled.

A chubby, greasy looking man appeared before the door. "FBI, Mr. Resnick!" I barked as I lowered my head to avoid the glare.

"Let me see the badge!" He ordered. The three of us immediately slammed our badges against the glass. He gazed at them for a moment before speaking. "I already gave my statement to the police."

"Yeah, Listen, Ronald-" Dean starts. "Just some things about your statement we wanted to get some clarification on."

"You read it?" Ronald asks incredulously.

"Sure did." Dean confirmed with a smirk.

"Come to listen to what I got to say?" Ronald asks.

"That's why we're here," I hum.

"Well..." Ronald breathed. He opened the door after a moment. "Come on in." The three of us stepped into the house, and my eyes thanked me. "See, none of the cops ever called me back, not after I told them what was really going on." Ronald explained as he lead us through his house. "They all thought I was crazy. First off, Juan Morales never robbed the Milwaukee National Trust. Okay, that, I guarantee." Ronald explains as Dean and I look around the room he's lead us in. Photo's were all over the walls, like he was working a case. "See, me and Juan were friends. He used to come back to the bank on my night shifts, and we'd play cards."

"So, you let him into the bank that night, after hours." I mention.

"The thing I let into the bank..." Ronald trails off nervously. "Wasn't Juan. I mean, it had his face, but it wasn't his face." Dean and I shared curious glances. "Every detail was perfect, but too perfect, you know, like if a doll maker made it, like I was talking to a big Juan Doll."

"Sounds sexy," I whisper to Dean as Sam repeats the comment. Dean choked a bit and gave me a playful glare.

"Look, this wasn't the only time this happened. Okay, there was this Jewelry store, too, and the cops and you guys, you just won't see it." Ronald complained slightly. "Both crimes were pulled by the same thing."

"And what's that Mr. Resnick?" Sam asks as I peer over his shoulder at Ronald's files.

He picked up a magazine and pointed to the front. "Chinese been working on them for years, and the Russian's before that-- Part Man, Part Machine. Like the Terminator, but the kind that can change itself, make itself look like other people."

"Like the one from T2." Dean mentions.

"Exactly!" Ronald exclaimed. "See? So, not just a robot, more of a- a man-droid." Ronald explained as Dean grinned wildly.

"A Man-Droid?" Sam inquires curiously.

"What makes you so sure about this, Mr. Resnick?" I ask curiously.

He gestures us to wait for a moment and pops a tape into the VCR. "I made copies of all the security tapes. I knew once the cops got them, they'd be buried. Here." Ronald explained as we sat on his couch. He fast forwards through the tape. "Now, watch. Watch him. Watch, watch." Ronald points to the Latino man on the screen. "See, Look! There it is!" Ronald exclaims. My stomach drops and I feel queasy as I gaze at it. "You see?! He's got the laser eyes!" The three of us share knowing glances and I know the discomfort is clear on my expression. "Cops said it was some kind of reflected light, some kind of Camera Flare." Ronald says with quotations. "Okay? Ain't no damn camera flare." Ronald snapped. "They say I'm a Post-Trauma Case. So what? Bank goes and fires me. It don't matter. The man-droid is still out there!" Ronald exclaims while pinning up a piece of the newspaper. "If the law won't hunt this thing down, I'll do it myself. You see, this thing, I-It kills the real person, makes it look like a suicide, then it sort of like, morphs into that person, cases the job for a while, till it knows the take is fat, and then it finds its opening! Now, these robberies, they're grouped together, so I figured, the Man-Droid is holed up somewhere in the middle-- Underground, maybe-- I don't know. M-Maybe that's where it recharges it's m-man-droid batteries!"

"Okay," Sam breathed as he stood up slowly. "I want you to listen very carefully." Dean and I shared a glance and got up. "'Cause I'm about to tell you the God's Honest Truth about all of this." He's silent for a second. "There's no such thing as Man-Droids. There's nothing evil, or inhuman going on out there. It's just people. Nothing else. You understand?"

"But... The- The laser eyes-" Ronald stuttered.

"Just a camera flare, Mr. Resnick." I quipped. "I know you don't want to believe this, but your friend Juan robbed that bank, and that's it."

Ronald's eyes burned with tears. "Get out of my house!" He bellowed. "Now!"

"Sure." Sam hummed as he gently placed a hand on my lower back. "First things first."

~*****~

I sat on the hotel bed as Dean checked over our case. I was feeling so nervous about it. I kept having flash backs of the last shifter the tree of us faced. "Man, that has got to be the kicker, straight up." Dean mentioned. "When you told that poor son of a bitch to-- what did you say, Remand, the tapes that he copied? Classified Evidence of an Ongoing Investigation? That's messed up."

"What did you expect him to do, Dean?" I ask curiously as I slip off the bed to perch on his lap.

"Yeah, are you pissed at me?" Sam asks.

"No, I just think it's a little creepy how good of a FED you are." Dean mentions to Sam. "I mean, come on, we could've thrown the guy a bone. He did some pretty good legwork here."

"Man-Droid?" I inquire teasingly.

"Except for the Man-Droid part," Dean hummed as I kissed his cheek. "I liked him. He's not that different from us. People think we're crazy."

"Except he's not a hunter, Dean. He's just a guy who stumbled onto something real. If he were to go up against this thing, he'd get torn apart." Sam scolded his brother.

"Yeah, Dean, it's better to stay in the dark and stay alive." I add.

Dean hummed. "Yeah, I guess."

"Shape-Shifter." Sam sighs softly. "Just like back in St. Louis. Same retinal reaction to video."

"Eyes flare at the camera," Dean adds. I take his beer and take a hearty swig to quell the anxiety. "I really hate those freakin' things."

"You think I don't?" Sam questioned.

I got up from Dean's lap to get another beer. "Yeah, well- one didn't turn into you and frame you for murder. Or cause a major rift with the three of us."

I smiled to myself and popped off the bottle cap. "Well, look, if this shifters anything like the ones we killed in Missouri--"

"Then Ronald's right." Dean put in. "All right, they like to lair up underground, preferably the sewer. All the robberies have been connected so far, right? Through the, uh, sewer main layout. There's one more bank lined up on the same sewer main."

"We should probably get there, then." I mention softly as I grab my duffel bag. "I'll get some uniforms for us, sit tight." I grab the Impala keys and leave the hotel quickly. Sitting in the Impala, I breathe out a ragged breathe that turns into a series of hysterical gasps before I cry out in a panic. Slamming my hands against the steering wheel, tears are burning down my face until I've screamed my throat raw.