His lawyer came by one day. It had been... two weeks? The boy had explained that his daughter was suspended from school until things settled down, and that she was being taken care of by another family member.

"You should expect it would take a good hour of preparation just to prepare ten minutes of the testimony, sir. And there are so many arguments and variables to be accounted for." The lawyer noted.

His shoulders filled out his grey suit. "Do you work out often?" Cody asked, to the surprise of his lawyer. "I'm sorry, I don't believe that's relevant. We're discussing your trial? The great desideratum in a courtroom is that you would be heard, and considered to be telling the truth." The man explained, taking a step closer to his client.

"What was your name again?" Cody asked, trying to memorize the face of his lawyer. He had high cheekbones, and warm ivory skin. On his square head was a head of finely-gelled blonde hair. His eyes were a familiar spruce-brown color.

Ah yes, it clicked in the subconscious region of his mind. That was why Cody thought him familiar. This law-school Harvard boy looked a lot like his wife. Perhaps that was why he was being friendly.

The lawyer sighed, flashing his client a questionable glance. "Alright. I'll bite. But this is extremely unprofessional, Mr. Lewis." He muttered, and tapped his fingers lightly on his cheek. "My name is Chester Schmidt. I'd hoped you would've remembered that." Mr. Schmidt tried to hide his own personal aggravation with a smile. Cody's head dipped in scarce acknowledgement. It seemed to Chester that he didn't care for so much as the time of day, like his client had already lost hope. Without hope, there was little chance the case would be won.

"Look, Mr. Lewis," He extended a hand toward his client. Cody regarded him with an empty look. As though he didn't care for what he had to say, but would just tolerate the truth or lies that he blabbered on about. "Whether you did these crimes or not is not my place to know, or care about. That's not my job." He paused briefly, to observe his client's unchanging expression. "Even if you're guilty, my job is to convince the people of the jury, and the judge himself, that you, sir, are innocent. Not guilty of any charges pressed against you, or any accusations held over your head. So help me so I can help you out of this mess. You have a kid to take care of, right? She's going to need you to be there for her. No kid needs a jailbird for a parent."

The man's tone snagged Cody's attention like a hook reeling in a fish. "I can respect your line of work. As I'm sure you can respect mine. But let me ask you this, Mr. Schmidt," Cody stood, and dusted himself off. "What would you do if one of those people was a family member of yours? If all of the available evidence pointed toward a cold-blooded serial killer, who got to live at home and enjoy his life, rich, successful, and with a family of his own who absolutely loves him?" He asked, hands steepled in front of him. His lush blue eyes met the lawyer's. The other man's face had contorted into one of distaste, and unsettlement. Cody chuckled faintly, and shook his head. "Right. Me too. I would do anything and everything in my power to make sure the one who killed my loved one was in solitary for life. Or tortured. Or anything else that's horribly painful to the mind and body." The man sighed in audible frustration.

Cody turned back to his lawyer, the storm brewing in his eyes. "Schmidt, your duty may be to me. But we all know how this went down. No anesthesiologist's fingerprints need to be fresh on a corpse nobody can identify. I'm sure the other attorney's argument already says that. No John-Doe with a face melted off is going to need an anesthesiologist."

"They would've arrived at the hospital dead. And at that point? Some innocent person would actually report it to the police, that some atrocity had happened. Whether it was the body itself, or the fear that there was some explosion somewhere else that caused that human being to become a decimated corpse." He scoffed, head shaking in recognition.

He turned back to his lawyer, shoulders falling. "As long as my daughter is taken care of? I think I'm safest admitting guilt and trying to plead insanity. As long as they're convinced beyond a reasonable doubt, I'll be fine." Cody sat back down, then frowned up at his lawyer.

Schmidt tapped his fingers together, uncertain as to what he should say. He couldn't help but be unsettled by the fact that he was alone in a room with a person who maimed and killed people for... well, there was nothing he could tell that linked the victims together, so right now? His deduction was that it was just for fun. For the thrill. For bloodlust.

He shook it from his head, and Cody watched as his lawyer paced the room. "Thoughts?" He asked, and Schmidt stood still. "Alright. We're in a state that allows the insanity defense, fortunately. Believe it or not, some don't." He chuckled half-heartedly. His demeanor had changed after what sounded like an admission of guilt. "We have to prove to the court either you didn't understand what you were doing, you didn't know right from wrong in the moment, or you acted on an uncontrollable impulse. Do any of those sound like a sound reason you'd actually be able to use? I should be able to create some sort of case based around one of them." He spoke a little slowly near the end, lips pursed. Cody tapped a finger against the wall, as lightly as a butterfly's fluttering wings. Even something small could lead to a butterfly effect across the world, though.

"A moment of fugue. Do you know what that is?" Cody asked, staring right at the wall. "It's... the loss of awareness of a person's identity. Almost like amnesia. It could be related to certain medical conditions, too, like epilepsy, or just plain hysteria. What's the point?" Schmidt replied in an uncertain tone. He knew what he was saying was true, it was just difficult to ascertain the reason behind the question.

His client turned, dead-eyed. Cody possessed the beady eyes of a shark at that moment. An able-bodied killer, who's unbridled power and speed left him the ability to freely toy with his prey for merciless hours if he so desired. It was the same look each of his victims had seen, long before their deaths.