Previously on ER: Kerry Weaver tentatively asked out a Sandy Lopez, but they didn't set a date. Carter noticed how stifled his father seems. Abby confronted Neecole about being pregnant, saying that a made-up family won't win Luka's heart; Neecole told Luka that she's not really pregnant, and fled. Peter found out he's not Reese's biological father, and got locked in a thorny custody battle with Roger -- which he's currently losing. Roma Maffia, the lawyer, ordered Peter to reshuffle his priorities.
Drs. John and Susan "Two Turtle Doves" Carter/Lewis leave the El station together, bantering about basketball. He's teasing her about being a Phoenix Suns fan, and can't believe she's not a die-hard Bulls fan. Do the writers think it's 1996? The Bulls stink now. Very passé. Carter teases that she's probably a Diamondbacks fan, too -- and he says it with disdain, which dates the taping of the show, because the Diamondbacks won the World Series this year. Anyway, it's all light-hearted prattle, the kind Carter and Susan always have, to prove to the world they have chemistry. "I didn't even get breakfast out of this deal," Susan grouses jokingly. "This deal" makes it sound like they slept together, but I sort of doubt it, since they barely kissed. Carter offers to buy her a donut at the Roach Coach, and a cup of coffee with it. "Big spender," Susan grins. Carter's mobile phone rings, and whoever's on the other end clearly surprises Carter with some news. When he hangs up, he happily tells Susan his parents will be staying in Chicago for the holidays. "First time in nine years," he glows. Susan's wearing yet another Burberry coat -- this time it's a black trenchcoat with rolled-up sleeve cuffs in the telltale plaid. She wore it in the last episode, too. I'm beginning to think Sherry Stringfield is just a Burberry mannequin.
Dr. Peter "O Little Town of" Benton"hem" barges out of the OR, trailed closely by Dr. Robert "Bah Humbug" Romano. "[Vascular surgery is] like sex, isn't it, Peter?" he sighs. "Messy, fun, and when done right, you leave satisfied." Wow, how badly does this man need a girlfriend? Romano compliments Peter's hands, and offers to let him assist on a local alderman's high-profile surgery. This passes for a Christmas present in Romano's little, little world. Before Benton can really respond, Romano has already ordered the on-duty receptionist to clear Benton's Monday schedule. Benton panics and begs Romano to slow down and talk to him about pressing schedule issues. "He's on trauma call in the ER that night," the nurse says. Romano tells her to dump the shift onto Elizabeth's shoulders, because she's the only surgeon who enjoys working down there. Romano should be careful. Elizabeth might be pissed, and she hasn't been declawed yet, or tested for rabies. "I have a situation with my son," Benton tries to explain. "What else is new?" Romano sighs distractedly. Benton informs his boss that he'll need more flexible hours. "In by twelve, out by four, and we all make the evening news," Romano chirps. Benton isn't just talking about the alderman's surgery that day, although Romano is too wrapped up in that to hear anything else. He tells Benton that twenty other surgeons would kill for this chance, so Benton should bloody well admit it now if he's not interested. "Are you in, or out?" Romano intones, in what I hope is not an uncomfortable, sad quasi-nod to Clooney's latest movie, as if to extol the career of The First One to Escape the Titanic. Benton wrestles with himself, then grunts, "I'm in," and flees. Romano zips off in the other direction. "Did I ever tell you you're my hero?" he breezes over his shoulder. Huh. A Bette junkie. Who'd have known.
Oooh, the credits already. Merry Christmas to me! Recapping this show is hard on the hands, so it's nice when the intro is short and simple.
"Ho ho ho," a woman screeches through the hospital, sounding more like she's crossing names off her son's phone list than trying to spread holiday cheer. It's Dec. 17, eight days before Christmas, and our Yuletide bullhorn is clad in a ratty Santa shirt and roaming the halls with a bell, screeching requests for alms for the poor. She's aggressive. Chuny fends her off. "Come on, you think it's easy being a female Santa in a man's world?" Bullhorn O'Bitchpants sasses. Dr. Kerry "Don Me Now Our Gay Apparel" Weaver looks on disapprovingly. "No soliciting," she snaps. O'Bitchpants claims she works for the Salvation Army; savvy Weaver asks to see some ID. "Okay, I eat at the Salvation Army," O'Bitchpants grumbles. Weaver kicks her out and threatens to call the cops. As O'Bitchpants sails out with a few final, defiant shakes of her bell, Dr. Luka "Three French hens? Mmm" Kovac hurries into the ER. Weaver scolds him for being late, and he apologizes glumly. "Don't be sorry, be punctual," Weaver snipes. "This is a hospital, not a department store." Abby "Deck the Halls" Lockhart, toting a wee potted tree bedecked with ornaments, catches this last part and rolls her eyes, asking Chuny in a low voice when Weaver is going on vacation. "Scrooge? Never," deadpans Chuny.
Luka craves a good, hard, lonely brood. The wrinkle? He broods near a highly trafficked front desk, which is more or less an invitation for your nosy ex-girlfriend to horn in on what should be a solo power-scowl. Abby makes a weak joke, which fizzles so dramatically that it's obvious Luka is immune to her charms right now. Sadly, he confesses that he went to the bar and asked about Neecole; no one heard from her, but apparently, she Winona Rydered from that establishment as well. Abby sucks in her cheeks and looks away, barely trying to mask her "I told you so" ocular gleam. Luka sees her, though, and acknowledges that Abby was right about Neecole. He walks away, and I get the sense that Abby feels a bit conflicted about her triumph.
Two bratty, screaming kids shriek into the ER, dragged in by Sandy "I Won't Go Until I Get Some" Lopez. The young boy and girl yell "freak" over and over, each trying to trump the other. Weaver makes a mental note to tie her own tubes during her coffee break. One kid has his arm in a sling, and the other is holding tissue to her forehead. Lopez tries to shut up the kids, but they won't listen, so Haleh spirits them away by the scruffs of their necks and with the definite promise of sweet, delicious discipline, a can of whoop-ass only Haleh could open. "Hey, you didn't call," Sandy says once she's alone with Kerry. "What happened, did you change your mind?" Kerry, faintly uncomfortable, shepherds her toward the lounge. But she's distracted by a patient she can't ignore, so Sandy glumly leaves. Weaver gets back to work, but pauses long enough to check out Sandy's disappearing ass.
Susan and Benton treat an elderly African-American man lying on his side, getting stitches in his head. Susan exposits that the cops found him roaming O'Hare with a suitcase, but sans ticket or ID. He fell on an escalator while trying to flee them. Yow. I almost fell down an escalator once, but managed to throw my bags down it instead of my body. One of them broke. It dumped out my bras and several pairs of black underwear, to the delight of the ten-year-old boy behind me, who excitedly asked his mom if he should help me pick them up. Ah, memories. Benton examines the patient's skull and says it's not a terribly deep or grave wound. "I'm missing my flight," the man says softly, vaguely concerned. Susan listens to his absent ramblings and deduces he's an amnesiac, then turns around to prepare some supplies. Benton, mid-diagnosis, notices that Roma is waiting for him at reception; he drops everything and bolts out to meet her. That should be worth some kind of discount. The old man rambles about the women he probably knows, who he thinks cook a marvelous Christmas supper. "Do you think the amnesia is temporary?" Susan asks Benton. Silence. She whirls and notices he's ditched her.
In the lounge, Benton hands Roma some coffee and urgently asks for an update on the case. Apparently, the judge has asked for an audience with Reese; Roma argued that he's a traumatized, grieving, confused young deaf child, but since it's a custody case, the judge insists on interviewing Reese anyway. Benton demands that she appeal the decision. Wow, if he's that nervous that Reese will praise Roger, shouldn't he take that as a sign that Reese might enjoy visiting Roger regularly? Roma can't appeal. "What am I paying you for?" grunts Benton. "He's asking my son to decide which one of us loves him more." This is all pretty standard stuff, I think, so I'm surprised Roma didn't warn him in advance that Reese would be treated like a witness. Benton is afraid the grilling will further upset his fragile son. "You're the one choosing to fight," Roma says testily, suggesting that he listen to the new settlement constructed by Roger and his eyebrowlicious attorney. Benton, acting younger than Reese ever has, mulishly refuses. Roma fumbles with her jacket buttons and then lifts her head. "You don't have the edge," she informs him. "On paper, Roger's coming across as the better father. If I were his attorney, I'd advise him to give you no more deals." Benton bristles. The camera stays on him, moving in closer and closer as his world begins to constrict. Roma sternly encourages him to listen to the new deal. Benton purses his lip and weighs the value of a grandiose temper tantrum. He picks stoicism instead.
Sandy feeds a dollar to the vending machine, and Kerry catches her there. "I'm on my way out," Sandy says. Kerry small-talks that the kids Sandy brought in will be fine, then rushes right into her makeshift apology. "I'm not very good at this," she confesses. Sandy softens a bit and leans against the glass wall. "What, follow-up?" she grins. They're darkly lit against the bright translucent wall, which seems illustrative of Kerry's at-work closet. Kerry invites Sandy to lunch the day. "No sushi," Sandy says. "I don't like sushi." Right on! For that, she gets a steaming bowl of Word Soup from me. ["And, from me, a fortune cookie. And the fortune within reads, 'Word.'" -- Wing Chun] The women smile. "Anything you want," Kerry says awkwardly. Sandy points flirtatiously at her, practically probing her nostril. "I'm gonna remember you said that," she says huskily.
Suddenly, Sandy hears a man singing, "Chestnuts roasting on an open fire..." It's Susan's amnesiac, who Lopez jovially identifies as Stan the Dumpster Man from 57th and Dorchester. "He's homeless?" Susan gapes. "Unless you count the dumpster," Sandy points out crassly. Stan hightails it to his exam room, with Susan in hot pursuit. He hurriedly throws all his possessions into the crumbling brown suitcase lying open on a chair. "Whatever that lady told you out there is not true," he insists gently. Susan acts confused. He denies being Stan the Dumpster Man. Sherry Stringfield acts as though she's talking to a five-year-old. It's making me uncomfortable. No one's eyes need to be that bugged-out. "This 'Stan' character sounds rough," NotStan says softly. "Bet he's got a record." Susan says she wouldn't be surprised to hear that. He exposits, with her help, that "Stan" has no place to spend the holidays, and no family anywhere. "If Stan was smart, he'd clean himself up, get himself a suit at Goodwill..." NotStan begins. "And go to the airport!" Susan finishes. Her line delivery is so weird. I can tell Susan is playing along, but it's pretty badly executed by Sherry and it ends up sounding like she's reading a Dr. Seuss book while on a whole lot of pot. NotStan, who of course is Stan, smiles beatifically and asks to stick around awhile to absorb the holiday spirit. Which is good, because I'm anxious for a lesson about holiday kindness -- the kind of lesson only a homeless drifter with a great singing voice can teach.
Divorce Court of Roger Looks Like a Better Father. Benton growls into a pay phone that Romano can bloody well do the operation himself, if the alderman thinks he's so brilliant. He slams down the phone. He's ditched the big surgery. Jackie arrives with Reese. Oh, great. The freaky bitch is here. I'm starting to dread the sight of Khandi Alexander, which is sad, because it's not through her own doing. Peter explains to his sister that they're waiting for Roger and Eyebrows to arrive and present a deal. Peter takes Reese, then throws him back to Jackie the second Roger and Eyebrows appear. Wouldn't want to look like a loving father in front of the people who are trying to claim you're not a loving father. Roger, for his part, looks absolutely delighted to see Reese, reaching out and cupping the boy's chin affectionately. Jackie stiffens. Eyebrows lays it out: every other weekend, plus two weeks during the summer, for a sum total of thirty-eight days a year. Roma wants to bargain down to one summertime week. Benton flips. "No, no, I'm not doing this," he seethes. "I refuse to negotiate over my son." Peter grabs Reese and bolts down the hall. "You'd rather take your chances with the judge?" shouts Roger angrily. Benton ignores him. God, Benton is so unsympathetic. I love that he loves Reese, but Roger is a totally legitimate and caring father figure in Reese's life. Isn't it better for Reese to have two great parents, regardless of whether they're both dads? Roger doesn't seem like the type of guy to try to turn Reese against Peter. They're doing a good job of making Roger look sympathetic.
Gamma, all dolled up and tucked into a glamorous sick bed, chats up her son -- Carter's father, played by Michael Gross, who we lovingly know as Stephen Keaton from Family Ties. Carter arrives and kisses Gamma happily, still giddy that Santa brought him a daddy for Christmas. He and Stephen hug awkwardly. "Oh, God, am I dying?" Gamma deadpans. "Rigor mortis hasn't set in just yet," Stephen says woodenly. "Why else would my son deign to spend Christmas with me?" she prods teasingly. Carter excitedly reveals that his mother will be there, too. "Ah, I knew there was a catch," Gamma sighs. Heh. Stephen uncomfortably says that Eleanor won't arrive until later this week, and bends to pressure from Gamma to stay at the house until then. "Ah, here's Helga to turn me like a pancake," Gamma chirps. The men leave to give her privacy. "I'd settle for a little dignity," she mutters.
Outside Gamma's room, Carter glows and whispers that underneath the sass, she's totally thrilled to have her son home. "Means a lot to me, too," Carter adds gingerly. "Yeah, it should be fun, huh?" Stephen says flatly, his tone making it clear he'd prefer a pine-tree enema. Carter is startled.
Reese hangs out on the floor of Judge Alter's chambers, flanked by a sign-language interpreter and the judge himself. "Who's that?" Alter asks, pointing to Peter. "Daddy," Reese signs. Peter grins adoringly. It's very genuine, and I find myself wondering if Eriq La Salle is as enamored of this boy as the viewers are. Reese calls Roger "my other Daddy," and surprisingly, the smile on Peter's face is still one of pride. Roger ups the sap factor with a smile of his own. The judge asks if Reese loves both his daddies very much. Reese signs that he doesn't know, which is weird. And still they smile. Eyebrows smiles. Roger smiles. Reese answers that Mommy makes him feel better when he's sick. Roger's smile falters. What's that song? "Smile, though your heart is breaking"? Alter asks, "Which daddy gives you the best care when you get a boo-boo?" Reese points to Roger and says that he has Band-Aids with cartoons on them. Sigh. Ask a stupid question...Clearly Benton should be punished for buying plain Band-Aids. And in a really weird choice for an act break, we fade to commercial on a shot of Benton intently watching the proceedings. Yawn.
December 19. Divorce Court. Plaintiff: Roger. Accusation: Dr. Peter Benton is too self-involved to be the best parent for Reese. "He needs consistency," Roger says, back on the stand. "Reese, Carla, and I -- the three of us were a family. That's how we planned our lives....I've been with Reese through earaches, flus, almost every scrape he's ever gotten." He regurgitates everything we've heard about Roger being more dedicated, having more time, figuring out how to grow money on trees, curing world hunger and, most importantly, not being an emergency-room surgeon. Judge Alter looks impressed with all this, because Roger is winning the custody case. Winning. Roger. Not Benton. This all makes Benton want to think very hard.
Carter meets Stephen at Doc Magoo's for some lunch. "Diverse selection," Stephen says, dryly. Carter praises the burgers, then grins that it's really been far too long. "Since we had lunch together, or [spent] Christmas [together]?" Stephen asks, bored. "Both," Carter says. He then presses Stephen about Eleanor's absence, griping that no business should keep her in Costa Rica in December. Wuh? Sounds like damn fine business to me. "How's the chopped salad?" Stephen inquires, changing the subject. Carter pushes again, figuring Eleanor can't avoid Gamma for the whole month, and upset that she's not making more of an effort. "Mom isn't coming," blurts Stephen. The wind rushes out of Carter's lungs. "We're getting divorced," he says. "It's amicable." Carter cuts off the last word, completely floored. "Divorced? After thirty years?" he chokes, sucking major wind. "Is there someone else?" Stephen brushes him off. Carter's initial instinct is that it's Eleanor's fault, but Stephen confesses he's the one doing the leaving. "This can't surprise you," Stephen spits. "You saw it before I did. I was suffocating." Carter gulps, because there ain't nothing they can't love each other through. Woo-hoo. Carter orders a burger, medium-rare; Stephen wants the chopped salad. "What would she do, baby, without us?" Carter asks. "Sha-la-la-la," Stephen answers.
Peter takes the stand in Judge Alter's Court of Roger Is Winning. Peter admits that he let Carla handle most of the parenting while he pursued his career, but claims it was because he found it appropriate to leave Reese with his mother. And he's pretty sure men are allowed to breed and be doctors. "All that's changed now," he says. "And my responsibilities have changed, too." He takes a breath, then looks the judge in the eye and says he's made arrangements to work fewer hours in order to better serve as a full-time caretaker to Reese. Roger is stunned. Roma's mouth twitches, but she holds a straight face pretty well. Benton claims he'll be working 7 AM to 5 PM on weekdays, and will have weekends off entirely. Alter skeptically demands proof by day's end of this new employment arrangement, and adjourns the Court of Saint Roger, the patron saint of family law.
In the parking garage, Benton gabs on his cell phone. He wants to talk to Romano right now, even if it means yanking him from the alderman's surgery. He wants Romano on the horn so badly that he's rolled down his car window, thus enabling anyone to hear his conversation. Frustrated, he hangs up and revs the engine, ready to zip over there and lay down the law, desperate to get the schedule approved so that he won't be arrested for perjury. Roger's car screeches behind Peter's and stops fast, blocking him. "Going back to work?" he sneers. "Get out of my way," Benton barks. "Got another shift?" Roger prods. "Where's Reese, huh?" He accuses Benton of being a liar and a perjurer, both of which are correct, and criticizes his win-at-any-cost attitude. "He's not a trophy, man!" Roger cries. "You can't win so you can give your sister a son!" Whoa! Step off, Roger. That was cold. I'm with Roger on a lot of things, but that's a very low blow. If he bought Mount Everest, no one would accuse him of trying to recreate Carla. Peter steps toward Roger and growls that he should shut his ugly mouth, and Roger dares Peter to get violent. "You can't change who you are," Roger points out desperately. Benton sets his jaw, steeling himself against his anger.
Kerry and Sandy stroll down a quiet street in search of a particular Indian restaurant. They can't find it. Sandy looks quite fetching with her hair down. She smiles that she doesn't much care for Indian food anyway. "Why didn't you say something?" Weaver asks. "I just did," grins Sandy. Weaver spots an Italian place, but Sandy sasses that it's not looking too good, since it's closed. "You're kind of a pain in the ass, you know that?" Weaver sighs. But then she turns sly on us and invites Sandy back to her place for some takeout. "I like a take-charge kind of girl," purrs Sandy. This is giving the fanfic writers some ample fodder. The two depart for Weaver's love den.
Benton charges up to Romano and demands a moment of his time. "Do you hear something?" Romano asks Shirley. "That sounds like the voice of a doctor who makes promises he can't keep, and then hangs up on the man he breaks the promise with." Ugh. Get out of fifth grade, Robbie. You're cleverer than that. Shirley smirks and leaves. "I need to scale back my hours, and I need it in writing," Benton states, following Romano into his office. "To whom it may concern: No friggin' way," Romano spits. Benton assures him it's quite serious, and it's about Reese. He relays his nights-and-weekends-off plan, which meets with derisive laughter from Romano, who quite rightly assumes that Peter has gone insane. Romano is unsympathetic to the cause, glibly telling Benton that Reese has a stepfather, and a joint-custody agreement would let Peter stick with what he does best: surgery. "I'm not asking for your advice," Benton snarls. Romano is impatient. "News flash: this is an urban trauma center. Until people start planning their [multi-vehicle accidents] and [gunshot wounds] better, you're not punching a time clock," he shouts. "That's not me being a hard-ass. That's the job." He's kind of...well, right, even if he is rude about it. Benton leans onto the desk, the universal sign for "don't fuck with me." But Romano isn't budging. "Well, then consider this my resignation," Benton intones, leaving. "Don't go getting dramatic," Romano yells, once he realizes Peter really is prepared to leave. Romano rubs his shiny pate and reconsiders. "Weekends off," he offers. Ooh, that's better than I expected. "Take it or leave it," he tells Benton. Pause. Benton mulls it, then quietly says, "I'll finish out the week." Romano chides him for abandoning a promising career to play Mr. Mom, but Benton won't be swayed. He never turns around, never falters.
Abby wheels a baby into the nursery. The kid was delivered by a shoe salesman in Marshall Field's. Nothing eases contractions quite like trying on some Nine West boots. As she hands off the baby to a nurse, Abby spies Neecole lying in a bed, her hair fanned out around her face, just so. This arouses Abby's suspicion, because no one's hair does that. She convinces the nurse to hand over Neecole's chart, flips through it frantically, and pales when she reads the words. "How far along was she?" Abby whispers. "Eight weeks," the nurse says. Abby looks tortured.
Benton sprints into a very modern-looking office building that's meant to be the Surgi-Center where Cleo works. Sure enough, Dr. Cleo "O Come All Ye Fembots" Finch punches the co-ordinates into her internal GPS and ends up right to Benton. He wheedles and pleads and pushes until she agrees to push the Center's director to interview him on the spot for its vacancy. "Cleo," Benton says softly. "Cleo, I need to talk to him." Cleo's actually almost charming about it, unable to understand the rush, but finally giving in to his urgency. Because they're a couple. Except that we missed the actual reconciliation, and missed why he deserves a favor from her. I appreciate that scripts can get fat sometimes, but this show's done a shoddy job of trimming, because it's ended up with fragments of storylines that don't really resonate at all. I'm talking more about Luka's plot, but the Cleo/Peter romance certainly suffered, too. I can't help harping on it; it really bugs me. I feel like we're being cheated. This is discount ER, and we're paying full price.
Neecole scurries out of her hospital room, only to run smack into a waiting Abby. "I thought you left," Abby says. "Tonight," Neecole snips. Abby explains that Luka's been searching for her madly. Neecole doesn't respond. "You told him you weren't pregnant," Abby says, confused. "I'm not," Neecole frosts. Abby obviously wants an explanation, but Neecole refuses to supply one. Feeling responsible for this whole mess, Abby apologizes to Neecole for making assumptions about her condition. "No, you were right," Neecole says. "He did everything he could. I thought his kindness was love, but it's not." Because you're a liar, and a thief, and we hate you. Go away, already! Stop trying to milk us for sympathy. Neecole whispers that Luka deserves not to know, and thanks Abby in advance for not telling him. For the zillionth time, Maura Tierney looks off into space and screws her face into a conflicted expression. This is how they utilize an Emmy nominee?
As a receptionist rambles on about boring surgeries and packed schedules, Peter sits tensely in the Surgi-Center director's office. The man glances at Peter through the glass, but doesn't look particularly moved; Peter shits a ton of bricks, then uses them to build a spanking new fireplace that will ensure a good first impression. Fade to commercial.
Dec. 20. Judge Alter. The Courthouse of the Triumph of Eyebrows. Benton chases down Judge Alter, waving the letter that confirms his favorable employment situation, and trying to gloss over the man's unease by saying it came in after hours. Alter studies it. "This is not your hospital," he duhs. Benton acts blasé, saying he worked out a much better situation at the new place. Alter can't believe all this happened in twelve hours; Benton half-truths that it was always a possibility, but that he didn't want to mention it until everything was ironed out perfectly. "Look, I needed to cut back my hours, and I did," Benton argues. He snagged an 8 AM to 5 PM weekday, with work-free weekends. "You told a different story yesterday," scolds Alter. "I don't like being lied to." Benton pulls the whole paternal-determination routine, growling that he's only doing what will be in Reese's best interests. Alter shoots him a withering look, then turns on his heel and leaves Benton lonely and helpless as a tot with no lunch money in the cafeteria.
Benton, en route to County General, bumps into Dr. Elizabeth "One Maid A-Milking" Corday. "Sneaking coffee?" he teases. "Tea," she says, then compliments his appearance. "Date?" she asks. "No, court date," he answers bleakly. Elizabeth bows her head and asks how it's going. "It's out of my hands now," he answers. He makes an offhand comment alluding to how many hours he has left before he goes, and that gives Elizabeth pause. "I'm leaving at the end of the week," he explains. "I had to quit." Elizabeth, for once, has lost the power of speech. I find that I quite like her this way. Benton explains that he needs to change his life for Reese's sake, and that Romano won't cut him enough slack to make it work any other way. Lizzie is astounded that Romano didn't fight harder to keep Benton, and is still in total shock that Benton would quit. "I've got to go," he metas, responding to his screaming beeper. He leaves her alone, still agape, and partly grieving.
Susan, in one of the trauma rooms, huddles over a twelve-year-old kid who fell from a ladder while hanging Christmas lights on his house. Where is Stan? Are we done with him already? Dang. I wanted to learn about life and love and dumpster-diving. Carter enters with the kid's parents in tow. The mother, played by Lea Salonga, exposits that her son Ben smacked against a bike on the way down, but notes that he's waking up. Enter Benton, who gets the bullet; Carter adds that Ben might have a liver or spleen laceration. Benton would prefer to "control the pain," which is med-speak for "drug him up but good." Mostly, he prefers not to remove the spleen unless absolutely necessary. And the liver, Benton? What of the liver? The LIVER? Guess he's ruled that out. Lea freaks at the word "remove." You should see her when she has to take off her nail polish. Carter calmly says that Ben can live without a spleen. Seriously, nobody knows what a spleen does, so why would anyone think the spleen is important? Lea and her husband launch into a whole bit that's supposed to be endearing, in which they fret about whether she can donate hers, and if not, whether one of the visiting extended family might have a matching spleen to sacrifice. "Sir, we don't transplant spleens," Benton says, almost serenely. And for some reason, that's my favorite line of the entire episode. Carter moves to escort the panicked parents to the waiting room; Lea offers to give blood to her son, but faints before she can say anything else.
Carter examines Lea elsewhere; she claims she's never fainted before, then waves merrily at the enormous gaggle of people clogging the waiting room. Each person is part of her family -- cousins, siblings, nieces, nephews. She puts on a happy face. Benton approaches to share that Ben's blood count is stable, and that his first CT shows only minor injuries. Lea blahs about her son's upcoming band concert, during which time Carter feels her neck and finds a swollen lymph node. "I know I'm sick," she confesses, sharing that she has lymphoma. Carter and Benton both look taken aback, doing a very poor job indeed of hiding the fact that lovely Lea's a total goner. She brightens and looks at her family. "Don't tell them, though," she begs. "There will be plenty of time to talk after Christmas." It feels like TPTB are setting us up for more on her story in a later episode, although if they're just going to kill off Lea without letting her sing, that will blow mightily. Roma beeps Benton, and Carter waves him away, promising to call another surgeon.
Across the ER, Luka stitches up the hand of a man who got caught shoplifting two pairs of skates for his children. Abby is with Luka. The man relays that the security guard jumped him in front of his children, one of whom is holding her father's hand; the other is passed out on a chair. The girl does her best wounded-little-angel voice, asking Daddy if they get to keep the skates. "No," he says. He turns to Luka. "They hate getting used stuff," he pouts. That's why he Neecoled them some skates. Luka feels this deeply. He has a major jones for thieves. Luka establishes that the children are motherless and have nowhere to stay once the cops take the father into custody. He excuses himself, and grabs Abby. "Are you gonna be in jail for Christmas?" the girl sing-songs, in the most pathetic way possible. "I don't know," Thief With the Heart of Gold says. Paging Stan! I have a family for you! Where is he? I guess this Touching ER Moment is the Stan of the second half-hour. They kind of ditched all the medical stories from the first part; maybe they weren't working and TPTB wanted a clean slate.
In the hall, Luka whispers that he wants to post the man's bail because the family has no money and lives in a motel room. "He probably can't pay a security deposit," Abby observes. Luka says the dad has a $5.15-per-hour job. Yow. Abby suggests calling the food bank, but Luka figures it's an imperfect solution, and would rather just post bail for the man. Maybe Moneybags over here should buy the skates for the two moppets and call it a full Christmas miracle. Oh, please dress him up in a Santa suit. "There's only so much you can do," Abby warns him gently. Luka stares at the ground, frustrated. He breathes heavily. "I just, uh..." he begins, unable to look at her. "Miss your kids?" she supplies, kindly. Luka picks at his fingers and tries not to cry. The muscles in his jaw tighten. Abby takes his hand sympathetically. "It's sort of worse at Christmas," he murmurs with a joyless half-smile. He rubs her hand, grateful for the human contact. It's a really sweet moment, and Goran Visnjic played it well. I'm kind of choked for him. Luka strolls away sadly, leaving Abby to stare after him AGAIN. She is going to stare herself blind.
Divorce Court of My Two Dads. Roger is already there, gabbing with the sign-linguist, possibly passing her a few dead presidents in exchange for some faulty translations. Reese waves at Roger, who grins back at him; Judge Alter enters and, despite the lack of lawyers, asks for one more conversation with Reese. Bit sketchy, that, but both fathers agree and cede control of Reese. The child doesn't want to go, and looks like he's about to cry, which breaks my heart. The translator tries to be encouraging, backed by Roger, who assures him it's safe to go. Reese grabs the table to stop all of this, but Benton disentangles him and gives him over to Alter. "Just Reese this time," Alter says. The fathers look surprised, and tensely return to their respective corners.
Carter explains to Lea that they're performing exploratory surgery on Ben, but expect that he might be home for the holidays. The entire extended fam packs into the elevator and heads up to the OR, shouting thanks to Carter. Snore. Susan follows Carter into the lounge and whips out a Christmas gift wrapped in gold paper and a red bow, and you just know the lid is wrapped separately and lifts right off. On TV, there's absolutely no fun in getting presents. Carter looks irritated. "God, I forgot," he sighs. He left her present at home, but he sort of looks like he didn't get her anything in the first place. What do you get a girl who has all the Burberry she could want? He rejects her offered present, asking to wait until they can make it a fair exchange. Bothered, Susan swallows her unhappiness and returns the gift to her locker. "Is something wrong?" she asks. Carter slowly chokes out that his mother isn't spending the holidays with them, because his parents are divorcing. He exhales hard on that last line, as though telling someone else finally makes it real. "Oh, no," Susan says, but the brat sounds annoyed, like he just confessed he isn't potty-trained, or delivered a rant about otherwise attractive women who cling to bad haircuts. Susan suggests it might be a blessing in disguise that will lead to a better situation. "Ever meet my parents?" she asks. "[They] aren't divorced, and they should be." This doesn't help; Carter hangs his head in total despair. He's had a rough year. "I'm sorry," Susan offers. "I'm so self-centered. I thought it was something to do with me." Carter regards her gently. "You're about the only thing going right in my life," he murmurs. Susan, rather than looking flattered, seems shocked and put off. I don't get it. Sherry Stringfield is usually pretty reliably believable.
And now, back to Judge Alter and the Terrible, Horrible, No-Good, Very Bad Custody Case. Roma scolds Benton for letting the judge abscond with Reese, but Benton rightly fretted that he'd appear defensive if he refused. Eagerly, Cleo asks what Alter had to say about the new job and hours, and is disheartened to know that the man wasn't falling over himself to kiss Benton's feet and buy him a "World's #1 Dad" mug.
Reese emerges. "There you are," Peter says, delighted. Cleo and Jackie greet him enthusiastically, and he perches on their laps to await the verdict. Judge Alter thanks them all for rushing over, presumably because he wanted to resolve the case before Christmas. "In a traditional custody case, win or lose, parents maintain the title given them by their biology. They're still Mommy and Daddy," he begins. "Here, I'm asked to declare that one of these two men is not, in fact, Daddy." Alter praises both men's love for Reese and the sacrifices they've made for him, but chides Benton's late effort and potential underhandedness. So far, that puts the ball in Roger's court. It's like, Roger 500, Benton 0. The judge adds that Reese would thrive in both homes, making it a doubly tough call. Then, he does something very arbitrary. He says that, because Reese has always believed Peter to be his father (He HAS? Didn't he identify them both as "Daddy"?), and because Peter will be working much better hours, he'll award custody to Peter. The reality dawns slowly on both Peter and Roger, and frankly, on me. Roger came off totally angelic in this arrangement, which is a bit revisionist; Roma could've brought up his and Carla's decision to move to Germany without considering Benton. But no. Instead the writers made Roger look completely devoted and loving, and then gave custody to Peter after he was so selfish and tried to cut Roger out of Reese's life. I blame Jackie for all of this. It's pretty easy, actually, and fun. Roger covers his face, drained and deflated. Peter, Jackie, and Cleo celebrate; Reese puts his head on Jackie's shoulder and waves adorably at Roger, who smiles, returns the gesture, and bites back the well of tears frothing inside him.
Dec. 24. Christmas Eve. Cleo can't find the star to go atop her tree. Perhaps it's because her star has fallen. And why is she trimming the tree the night before Christmas? Benton and Reese huddle to the tree and flick on the lights; the whole thing lights up and shines on Reese's delighted face. He and Peter clap together. God, they're sweet. ELS looks relaxed and happy for the first time in a long time. Quite telling. As Reese gleefully rifles through some boxes of ornaments, Benton lies down under the tree. "Hey, baby, come here," he calls to Cleo. She lies down to him, their heads side by side but their feet in opposite directions. Cleo giggles that he'll be late for his shift. "What are they going to do, fire me?" he jokes. Benton made a joke! The mood turns a bit somber, then, as Benton dreamily shares that he always used to stare up at his family tree this way, ever since he was Reese's age. Considering what happened the last time Cleo let Reese run free at her apartment, they might want to sit up and check on him -- but hey, caring is for custody trials. That shit's over now, man. Slyly darting a glance at Cleo, Peter wonders how long the commute will be to his new job in Schaumberg. "I thought maybe we should relocate," he says casually. Cleo stares at him. "'We'?" she twinkles. "Yeah," Peter gulps. He shares that the ordeal with Roger and Reese brought his priorities into clear focus. "It's like all my life I've been chasing something, you know?" he explains. "That time when I can make it into the end zone and spike the ball. It took almost losing my son to realize that the end zone's not out there. It's right here." Cleo grins. "You're good raw material. I can work with you," she says lightly. Peter snickers and rolls over, kissing her ear. "Oh, you can?" he flirts. "Yeah, I have to get you into shape," she sighs. By now, Peter has rolled over and he plants a deep smooch on her. The two of them make out energetically for a while, enjoying their first and last scene with any real chemistry.
Reese, having located Cleo's treetop star, taps on his father's back and interrupts the kiss. Delighted, Cleo and Peter stand up, the latter hoisting Reese high so he can set the star atop the fir. Cleo pecks Reese on the cheek, and they have a nice family moment.
At County General, Randi appears, anxious to fill that last nagging blank space on her acting CV. "I'm working New Year's Eve?" she complains. "I don't think so." Dr. Mark "Rachel Got Run Over By a Reindeer" Greene aptly notes that someone has to work on Dec. 31. "Someone else," sasses Randi. And then she's gone, back through the eternally revolving door of supporting characters. Send our best wishes to Lydia and Yosh.
Mark gets distracted by a gunshot victim coming in from the ambulance bay. The frantic mother squeaks out the typical plea for Mark to save her son's life, as though Mark's going to send her kid to die in a corner unless his mother asks very nicely for competent care. Don't forget the magic word! Mark examines her son, Teddy, and deduces that the bullet crossed his thorax. Teddy's struggling to breathe on one side, and will need a chest tube. "How'd it happen?" Mark asks. "I shot him," the mother says calmly.
Benton spots Roger in the hospital waiting room, and curiously goes to meet him. "I guess I should say congratulations," Roger grieves. "Did you really get a new job?" Peter can't believe Roger wants to call him a liar again; Roger can't figure out why Peter is working on Christmas Eve. "It's my last shift," Benton says, defensively. "What's your excuse?" Roger hands him two presents for Reese. He turns to leave, empty and alone. Benton, warmed by the glow of the season and lulled into placidity by the call of other acting projects, offers to let Roger come over tomorrow and give Reese the gifts himself. Roger, the poor shlub, looks tickled. He thanks Peter warmly. "I'm not doing it for you," Peter zings. As Roger leaves for good this time, Benton gets paged to the ER.
Haleh, Mark, and Susan pick at Teddy's dying body. The mother explains that they live in a dangerous neighborhood; she put her tree by the window, heard glass break, and thought a burglar had entered. She fired a shot, then discovered that Teddy had just gotten up out of bed to ogle the tree, and broke an ornament. Guns are bad, mmmkay? As Benton arrives, Teddy's heart rate plummets, and then his pulse disappears altogether. Susan begins compressions. Benton calls for a thoracotomy tray. "We have to open his chest," he explains. The mother watches. Leave, woman. There's no way you need to see this.
The incision is made. Benton and Susan work the rib spreader. "Oh God," the mother chokes, grossed out. There's a very juicy noise signifying the tearing of gooey flesh, and then we get a really graphic shot of the gaping hole they're making in Teddy's chest. Have you ever wanted to see a chest ripped open? Yeah, me neither. It's disgusting. Susan guesses there's two liters of blood swimming around in there, so they suck it out. "Page Romano NOW," Benton yells.
Romano reports immediately to the OR, not having figured out the joys of leaving your pager in the bathroom. "Who the hell takes a gun to a six-year-old?" he grumbles, disgusted at the carelessness. Benton works quickly but carefully to find the bullet. "Are we really going to go through the motions here?" Romano snaps. Jerk. A Hero doesn't let innocent children die without putting up a hell of a fight -- especially not if cameras are rolling. Peter extracts a fragment of the slug, which confounds Shirley. "It looks weird," she observes. Romano peeks at it and identifies it as a shard of the Black Talon fragmenting bullet. Shirley, awestruck, compares it to an explosion of razor blades inside Teddy. "Sort of the point," mutters Romano. Elizabeth appears, ready to scrub in and help. "She's gonna love being brought in on this," Romano groans, before noting that Teddy has bullet fragments in all four chambers and possibly in the great vessels as well. He thinks Teddy is toast, with a damn lot of red jam spread on top.
"What do we have here?" Elizabeth asks, brightly. "An organ donor," Romano retorts. It's weird to hear him not care a whit about helping the patient. He tries to talk Peter out of wasting time on a lost cause, figuring they have other surgeries lined up and waiting to get in the door. Benton informs him that he fixed defects in the left ventricle and right hilium, and gets angry when Romano continues to be flip about it. "Either you're going to help me, or get the hell out of here," Benton bellows. Romano throws a blue fit and storms out. "Elizabeth, we can do this, all right?" Benton says, half reassuring, half pleading.
Mark finds Teddy's agonized mother and tries to comfort her. You know, I really don't want look at him or recap this scene, so I'm not going to bother. Mark puts on his sympathy face, and I can't stomach it. And you aren't missing a damn thing.
Shirley wipes sweat beads from Benton's forehead. Elizabeth is pleased to discover that Teddy's stool hasn't clogged up the abdominal cavity, which she considers a positive sign. I'd have to agree; sometimes, I repeat that in front of the mirror as part of my morning affirmations. Peter finishes with the SMV -- which I assume is part of Teddy's heart, and not a new all-terrain Toyota -- and stitches it up with Elizabeth's help. There's a really graphic innards shot that's so clear, it looks clipped from a Discovery Channel surgery special. And there's a reason I don't watch Discovery Channel surgery specials. The first time I watched this, my hands were over my eyes. The docs yank out the catheter and "throw in a good knot" to tie up that hole. Benton urgently roots for Teddy's body to bounce back. Innards shot #2. I refuse to look at it on Pause, but from what I gather during one very quick peek, the vein in question puffed right up in a healthy way, and the internal bleeding stopped. "Look at that," Elizabeth gawks. "That's incredible! How the hell did you do that?" Benton grins that it's his damn farewell episode, so he knew all along the boy wasn't going to die. Elizabeth offers to close up while Benton delivers the good news to Teddy's mother. Content, Benton tears off his scrubs and thanks Elizabeth for her help. "Peter, that was truly remarkable," she praises. "A little going-away present," he smirks. Emotionally, Elizabeth avers that County General will miss Benton terribly. "Wish I could say the same," he metas. "It wasn't all that bad," Elizabeth protests teasingly. Benton pauses, considering her. "We had our moments," he grins, winking, then spinning out of the OR. Elizabeth looks floored again, then shakes it off and returns to the matter at hand. She wasn't paying attention to Shirley, so...does anyone remember the Angel of Death? I'm just saying. How funny would it be if, in the episode, an infection kills off Benton's Last Surgical Miracle? Except for the needless waste of life, it'd be kind of a knee-slapper. It was great to see Elizabeth and Peter's old sparks again, too. It reminds me just what a giant bucket of water Mark really is.
Immediately outside the operating room, Benton shares that Teddy lost a lot of blood, but they did repair the bullet damage and he's going to survive the incident. "I don't know how to thank you," she breathes shakily. "Well...Just get the gun out of your house," Benton PSAs. Oh, quit moralizing, you perjurer.
Slow piano music backs Benton's last stroll out of the OR area. He signs the chart with a flourish, a dramatic final swipe of the pen, and rubs his neck with a happy, peaceful expression. He turns to watch Elizabeth sew up Teddy, his face a cocktail of emotions, and then finally wheels around to traverse the long hallway leading to the elevator. He removes his cap tiredly and tosses it into the garbage. He struts past Romano, who glares at him, arms crossed tightly across his chest. And he impassively presses the "down" button, pausing for one last sideways glance at Romano. There's no regret in his eyes. Romano looks stern; as soon as Peter steps out of sight, Romano allows a respectful, almost affectionate smile to flit across his lips. Shaking his head, Romano retreats into his office. The Grinch's small heart grew three sizes that day.
On Christmas Day, Benton goes for a jog along the lake. It's a crystal-clear day in Chicago. "I guess Santa didn't buy you that bike you asked for," a voice says. Benton stops and spies Carter sitting on a bench. Apparently, Cleo told him how to find his mentor. "Want to join me?" teases Benton. Carter declines enthusiastically. Ha. Me too, Carter. Ruefully, Carter asks if there's any way to talk Benton out of leaving. "Nah, it's a done deal," he nods. Awkwardly, Carter hands a tiny gift-wrapped box to Benton, who rolls his eyes. "You're tough to shop for," Carter grins. Benton lifts off the lid to reveal a single El token. He's confused. Carter recalls one night in the second week of his surgical internship, on which they had eleven trauma patients in one night, working well past 5 AM the day. "I was so tired, I couldn't see straight, and I asked if I could take a break," Carter remembers. "You kicked me out of the OR." Benton smiles slightly. Carter relates that he sat down and cried in the hall, too tired even to drive home. "You came out of surgery, handed me that, and said I could use it to go home, or I could commit to what I was doing and use it to come back the day," Carter finishes. Benton picks up the token and fingers it delicately, amazed that Carter kept it. "No Rolex, huh?" he jokes. Carter laughs, but his face is turning pink, because he knows this is about to be Goodbye. He says he figures Peter can use it to come back when he gets tired of Schaumberg. "Carter, they don't use tokens anymore," Benton smirks. "Then call," chokes Carter. "I'll come pick you up." He looks down at the ground, unable to control the swelling lump in his...THROAT, people. Throat. Tentatively, Carter starts to thank Peter for everything. "I know," Benton interrupts. "I owe you," Carter insists, sniffling. Summoning all his courage, Carter moves in for the bear hug he's always wanted from Benton. He throws his arms around him and clasps tightly. And just when I think Benton might give in to the moment, he stays in character and looks totally uncomfortable, lifting his arms gingerly to pat Carter firmly on the back. Ha. I'm teary, but I'm laughing. "Carter," he sighs, exasperated. They break the hug. "I'm getting cold. Better move on," Benton metas for the millionth time this hour. They wish each other a Merry Christmas, and Benton jogs away. "Hey Peter?" Carter calls. Benton stops, surprised. Aw, he called him "Peter." "I'm a good doctor because of you," Carter says. Benton looks appreciative, but it quickly gives way to a chuckle. "No, you're not," he beams. "But keep trying." And with that, Benton disappears from Carter's life, and our last shot is of his face against a dazzling blue Chicago sky.