Over at the New England Crisis Center, a supervisor recognizes Dana's picture, shown to her by Peter and Lee, and identifies her as Joan, who works there but hasn't been in for a few days. Peter asks if she was close to anyone in the office. She was friendly, but not close, did her job and went home. The supervisor shows the agents to Dana's desk and says she hopes nothing's happened to her, since she's one of their best counselors: "If there was a particularly challenging call, a person who was at risk, we'd forward it to her. She was amazing. In three months she saved at least 37 lives. She had an uncanny way of connecting with people feeling hopelessness," says the supervisor. She chalks up Dana's perspective on hope to the fact that she was struck by lightning twice and survived. Peter and Lee look at each other, and while the supervisor goes to get Dana's address, they wonder why, if Dana is stealing people's souls as they die, is she so committed to saving their lives? It's not that confusing. It was a cockamamie theory by a couple of drug-addled mad scientists!
Meanwhile, Dana shows up at Brian's house, where he's sitting on the floor, back against the wall, sunlight streaming in through half-blinded windows. She walks slowly towards him and he points a gun at her. She stops moving, but he can tell that she's not scared, and asks her why not. Instead of answering, she just asks why he's doing this. "You think you convinced me to allow you to come here. But it was me who wanted you to come," he says. He tells her that he doesn't want to hurt people, but he always does. And it sounds like Dana uses the same raindrop spiel on everyone, because he says he has no hope, like those raindrops that she mentioned on the phone. "You said they have a purpose. Well, I don't like my purpose. Do you think the raindrops will help those people on the train?" he says. She's all, what people on the train?, and he tearfully says that he doesn't want to hurt them but he will, and that's why she's here: to save them. Turns out Brian is having homicidal tendencies in addition to his suicidal ones, and he's got a duffel bag with a bomb on East Bay railway train 67, car 2, seat 17.
She grabs a nearby one and dials 911 -- part of me wondered if she was playing him and was actually only dialing 411 -- but as it rings, Brian says, "Like Azrael, let his angels carry my damned soul to heaven," and he puts the gun under his chin. Dana watches, and doesn't say anything, just hangs up the phone after Brian blows his head off. She notices some nearby pencil drawings of a man being carried by angels. Well, this one's going to lower her batting average a little.
Over at Walter's Harvard lab, the two mad scientists are smoking pot and listening to Supertramp, as you do. They're looking for host bodies for Bell, but coming up empty. "We're looking for such specific conditions to accommodate your transfer, William. A brain-dead patient like this could be one in a million," says Walter. Or you could just hang out at a movie theatre when the next Twilight movie opens.
And then Gene moos, and Bell looks over, intrigued, and Walter figures out what he's thinking, and says, "No. No," and then they both start giggling.
Nearby, Lincoln Lee and Peter are going through Dana's stuff -- including books and a cash receipt from a flower shop -- but not finding much to tell them where they might find her. Then Lee notices that all the books are clinical except for The Afterlife of the Soul, a religious text. Flipping it open, Peter finds several highlighted passages on each page. "All the highlighted passages are about what happens to us after we die," says Peter. Yeah, uh, that's what the whole book's about. Nice work, FBI civilian genius. Lee jokes that maybe she's trying to convince people to jump by telling them how great heaven's going to be, but Peter finally hits upon the notion that maybe she's the one who wants to die, and I'm kind of surprised it took them this long to come up with that. Survivor guilt isn't exactly an obscure concept, and her family was murdered.
Anyway, Bell and Walter are grooming Gene and seemingly seriously considering the logistics of transferring Bell's consciousness into the cow. "We could communicate through my brainwaves. You would hook me up to an EEG machine and decipher my thoughts," says Bell, because why not make things more complicated? Walter says he'd still have to milk him, and Bell suggests assigning Astrid, and they both start snickering, and I have to say Astrid deserves a little better from these disgusting old men.
Peter tries to interrupt, but Walter says they're too busy sexually objectifying a co-worker, and Peter plows on anyway and asks if Dana Gray's double-lightning strike could account for her hyper-magnetism. Bell says the ions due to the multiple lightning strikes could cause her molecules to be supercharged, with Walter adding that could yes, intensify the electromagnetism, and Peter presents his theory that Dana's trying to die, not live forever. And then Lincoln Lee sees on his phone that Dana's description just went out over the police bulletin in Rochester: somebody spotted her. So Peter and his new best friend are off.
Over at Brian's house, Lee shows a picture of Dana to the landlady, asking if she's sure that's the woman she saw leaving the apartment. "Like I already told the police, I was making dinner when I heard the gunshot. I came out into the hall, and I saw that woman leaving," she says and then asks if the woman killed Brian. Lee says he can't comment on an ongoing investigation, and then the landlady weirdly gives him attitude about how he's the only one who gets to ask questions, and he manages to sincerely thank her for her co-operation.
Peter pops up to report that the medical examiner says the angle and wound powder burns are consistent with suicide, but the gun only discharged once -- and up until now, Dana's MO has been to try to kill herself with or directly after the suicide victim, and why is that? Lee figures thinks that her soul or energy is bound to her body, so maybe she's trying to go along with the victims. Like a hitchhiker he says, and Peter laughs and says, "A stowaway to heaven?" and Lee and Peter are getting along great, and I think Broyles should co-ordinate with the head office so Peter and Lee can have another playdate really soon. Anyway, if that's the case, says Peter, why didn't she just pick up the gun and try to shoot herself to catch a ride? What changed?
Elsewhere, Dana is in a combination church/library because a nun is bringing her the story that Dana was looking for, the ascension of Azrael, and the nun's surprised she's heard of it, and Dana makes up some explanation about a night class where she's doing an essay on the journey of the soul to the afterlife, and then the nun just tells Dana the whole story about a sinner named Azrael whose soul was condemned to purgatory, and then after years of watching Azrael suffer, the angels asked God to let Azrael free, for some reason, maybe because he was a really good guitar player or would look great in wings or something. God ignored the angels, because fuck angels, really, he's God. And then the angels were all "stupid God" and then they just brought Azrael up to heaven themselves because Azrael had suffered enough and God didn't get all pissed at them because the combined innocence of the angels' souls outweighed Azrael's sins, and so God was like, "That's cool" and welcomed Azrael into heaven, like THANKS FOR RUINING THE STORY, NUN, SOME OF US HAVEN'T READ IT YET. The nun wishes her luck on her assignment and leaves, and Dana unfolds a piece of paper where she's written the train and seat number that b