Next Of Kin

S09E09

Straight from episodes of ER that are not this one: Abby's brother Eric is bipolar, just like Mental Maggie, who showed up to throw in her two cents that Abby can't fix this quickly. Eric insisted that he isn't crazy like Maggie was. Proving that ER is more absurdist fantasy than anything, Luka paid for sex from a hooker, as if he's not so hot that even hookers would lie down for free. And in the oddest choice ever, we see two seconds of Leon out in the hallway with Pratt just as Chen rushes out buttoning her shirt. What? That tells me nothing. I've watched TV before and I know that scenes like that sometimes convey wacky ketchup-stain hijinks. What I think they were trying to get across is that Pratt's brother is a little...simple.

On a snowy, cold morning in Chicago, Abby "Nurse Wretched" Lockhart jolts awake when she hears something break in her kitchen. Shuffling grouchily out of her bedroom, she spies Eric sitting rigidly on the couch watching television. "Where's Mom?" she asks densely, as if Maggie isn't less than a foot out of her line of vision. "You need cable," Eric barks. Abby goes ahead and exerts the minimal effort required to walk, turn her head, and get a view of Maggie in the kitchen. "I broke a bowl," Maggie apologizes. "I'm making scrambled. Want some?" Of course this family eats scrambled eggs. It all makes sense. Abby feels like there are enough scrambled things in the room, so she declines Maggie's offer with a bratty "no" that should earn her a scrambled face, but doesn't. "Got cheese?" Maggie asks. "Just the stuff in a can," Abby grunts. She then complains that, at 5 AM, it's a trifle early for breakfast. Eric brats that he's not even hungry. How did Eric get there? Last we left them, Eric was asking for another hearing of some kind, and they were in Nebraska, and Carter was there, and they got hotel rooms...did we skip an episode? "He's been up since 3," Maggie whispers to Abby. "Maybe you should talk to him." And after having done nothing but want to talk to Eric for, oh, two or three episodes, Abby pulls a long face as if this is a hideous request and pads reluctantly into the living room to darken its poor unsuspecting aura.

Abby asks Eric if he had trouble falling asleep. "Trouble staying that way, actually," he says blithely. "Kind of a crappy neighborhood you live in." Abby plops down to him and helpfully asks whether he wants to talk about anything that might, in some small way, help the audience patch these gaping holes in the storyline. Eric cares deeply for us, so he dons his tutu and tights and dances the Exposition Fairy Twirl. "You had me medically discharged and I'm about to check into a loony bin today," he says. "Treatment center," Abby corrects. "It's one of the best, and it's just days." Eric snorts, "My days," and stands up in a huff to go hit his mark near the bookshelf. Maggie wanders over, sensing that she needs to try to change the subject. Abby totally ignores her and begs Eric to understand that aggressive treatment now will improve his chances of long-run mental health. "My chances!" Eric reminds her. Maggie goes on about how tired that all are, but again, Abby pays no attention because she only listens to the sound of her own voice. "We agreed, Eric," she wheedles. "When the hell did this become 'we'?" Eric explodes. Abby levels him with a condescending and fatigued gaze as she coolly tells him, "When you started having to take Depakote." Eric is wounded, stunned, unable to believe that his sister's completely written him off. "Is that how it works?" he bristles. "Anything over 500 milligrams gets you locked up?" Abby tries to make him listen to her, because she knows how freeing and satisfying that can be, having fallen in love with her own voice. "You're lucky you're only 250," Eric tells Maggie, brushing past them into...where? His bedroom? Does he have a bedroom in that place? "It's weight-based," Abby calls after him. God, she's insufferable. Shut up, Abby. I didn't hate her until the Eric storyline.

Dr. John "Doormat" Carter treats an adorable little blue-eyed moppet whose brother is plastered to his side. The moppets belong to Delinquent Mother of the Week #1, who can't figure out why Little Timmy has a persistent headache. "What were you doing?" Carter asks. Timmy and his brother -- uh, Jimmy -- swap really guilty looks. "Knowing might help me figure out whether Timmy needs medicine, or an operation," Carter says, as Timmy's eyes widen. "Or both," he adds. Timmy gapes at Jimmy, terrified, and Jimmy drops his head. "Gravity," he mutters. "I hold him up by his ankles to see how long it takes him to hit the ground when I let go." Timmy says balefully, "One one-thousand." Everyone laughs, because getting dropped on your head is funny. DMOW #1 does some nice after-the-fact barking at her kids to try to make up for her earlier failures, but the camera gets bored with her lunacy and follows Carter out of the room...

...and toward the front desk. Carter meets up with Dr. Susan "Patient Killer" Lewis en route, and they marvel that Timmy was being launched onto his noggin and he still didn't want to rat out Jimmy. It's a stirring tale of sibling loyalty brought on by repeated blunt-force trauma to the head. The oldest story. Susan asks when Abby's due back from her vacation. "She's back," he says. "Is everything okay?" Susan asks. "Yeah, other than needing a vacation from her vacation," Carter sighs. Susan makes a nasty crack to the effect that being stuck on a train with her family would make her jump in front of it, and as payback for her being an idiot, Jerry appears and tells Susan that she's got to cover Weaver's shift. "That's the second time this week," Susan whines. "And it's only Tuesday!" chirps Jerry. Dr. Jing-Mei "Deb" Chen wonders if Kerry is moonlighting, or just slacking. "'Getting involved with labor negotiations' is what I heard," Carter shares. "Something like that," Susan says under her breath. Chen laments that this means they won't be going salsa dancing later. "Losing all your party pals?" Carter asks. Chen poutily rests her elbows on the desk. "Between work and boyfriends, nobody seems to have time for fun any more," she frets. True, but Chen? Riding the P-train won't change that, so stay off it.

A woman interrupts from the waiting area. "Are you doctors?" she asks. White coats? Stethoscopes? Nah, they're hookers. Carter waves her off to triage, so the woman stands there for a second, paralyzed by fear and possibly regret at having chosen to wear that tweedy hat. "I just can't," she sobs, bolting. Honey, it's okay. You can take off the hat. Chen looks over to see that the woman left a dark red duffel bag on the ground. "Should we look or call Security?" she asks boredly. Then the bag starts to cry. Loudly. Ladies and gents, I think we just met Delinquent Mother of the Week #2. Carter and Chen bolt toward it. Surprise! It's a baby. Carter runs outside to find the mother, but he can't. We hit the credits hoping that this week's delinquent mother theme isn't going to yield an appearance by Carter's own mother, because I'm already kind of chilly.

Abby drags Eric and Maggie through his new treatment center as a man describes the daily eight-hour therapy regimen. He's all proud of it. You can tell by the way he says "recreational therapy," as if he's just waiting for the psychiatric community to get wind of his revolutionary spin on Pin the Mania on the Donkey. Maggie tries to be polite, but can barely hide her skepticism; Eric flat-out doesn't hide his. Dr. Demento starts detailing his four-pronged approach to recovery -- therapy, structure, social interaction, and medicine -- and Eric winces mightily. He doesn't like being pronged. Abby pointedly makes sure that the good doctor dispenses the meds himself. "Absolutely," he avers. Eric shrinks a little more at the sight of patients' lockers for personal belongings and his mention of hot lunches and occasional cultural field trips. "What about recess?" Eric sasses. "No swings? No monkey bars? No slides? Not even a merry-go-round?" Abby scolds him, so Maggie grabs his elbow and takes him away to talk to some of the other patients. "Oh, the Bipolar Show and Tell?" Eric nods mock-agreeably. Tom Everett Scott's done a great job in the past two episodes. His line readings are funny, and he's looking adorable. Abby and Dr. Demento watch him go, the latter's smile indicating that he's seen it all before and he's pronged it into submission. Abby cuts to the chase and asks if Eric will be kept on anti-psychotics because he's had delusional thoughts along with his mania. Dr. Demento assures her that he'll decide that after he's spoken with Eric and seen his medical history. "I don't know how much cooperation you'll get, but I can tell you anything you need to know," she insists. Dr. Demento gazes at her serenely. "It would be more helpful coming from the patient," he says, basically telling her to piss off. Abby rolls her eyes. She is so freaking eager to drug up her brother.

Chen, Carter, and Erin "Speaking of Mania..." Harkins pronounce that our sweet little abandoned baby -- we'll call him Rex in memory of that mischievous Wonder Preemie who wasn't called into service for this episode -- is in perfect health. Carter notes wryly that DMOW #2 tied off the umbilical cord with a "Powderpuff Girls" barette. "PowerPuff Girls," corrects Erin. Carter's all, Relax, Little Miss Can't-Be-Wrong. Erin asks if it's appropriate to call Social Services; Carter affirms her instinct by citing the Safe Haven law that states mothers can drop off newborn babies any time they darn well please. "At least she did the responsible thing," Chen notes. "Did she?" judges Erin. Chen bristles and points out that Rex could've been left in a dumpster. Erin counters by wondering where Rex's father or grandparents are -- or, for that matter, his no-good ramshackle womb with a view. "She's out there living her life like absolutely nothing's happened," Erin snits. Chuny enters to save Erin from the wrath of Chen, who's having pangs for no apparent reason, because her situation was completely different. There's nothing I hate more than a misplaced anvil. Chuny alerts Carter to an incoming pair of MVA victims, one of whom is a pre-teen girl with an ankle deformity. Carter and Erin bolt. "Coming?" he asks Chen. "Yeah," Chen says unconvincingly, staying with Rex and tucking his blankets around his little abandoned face.

Outside, a rig speeds into the ambulance bay. We pan down to a purple-faced man being unloaded from another ambulance, and because this is ER, the man vomits unexpectedly right when the camera lens finds him. The NBC Vomit Comet is such a camera whore, it's unbelievable. It looks like he's spitting up Campbell's Chunky Soup, too, which is so not how Donovan McNabb and his mother hoped this would go, because this scene's forcing me to pooh-pooh their hearty meal in favor of thin, thin soup, for as long as I live. King Chunder's real name is Gil, he's all messed up inside from the car accident, and he's awake. Chuny notes that he's also got blood and urine in his pants. He's a buffet of bodily fluids. "Morgan," Gil mutters. Carter shouts that yes, his daughter followed him there, and they'll take care of him. Then he screams for a trauma surgeon.

Dr. Greg "Blue Balls" Pratt struts out with Erin to grab the little girl, Morgan, a morose-looking kid with long mousy brown hair and small eyes. Her left ankle's all messed up; it seems the truck mostly hit her father's side of the car, while she was in the back seat on the opposite side. They escort her inside.

In Trauma Yellow, Carter's off to the races with Gil. His jaw and heart seem okay. "Mother's gone," stammers Gil. No one cares. They're more interested in his fractured clavicle to notice that we've just had Delinquent Mother of the Week #3 delivered to us on a silver platter, or in this case, a steel gurney. "She doesn't understand," Gil persists, not to be denied his moment of exposition. Dr. Elizabeth "Traumatic Surgeon" Corday enters to assess his problems. The diagnosis? Roughly translated: Holy crap. He's got all kinds of internal injuries and bleeding that require immediate attention. "Is there anyone you'd like us to call? Your wife?" Elizabeth shouts at Gil. He reacts with bemusement, having just wasted the better part of his energy spewing cryptic insults about his wife, had anyone been listening. "No," he answers curtly. Carter shares that Morgan's door being taken care of; Chuny bolts from the room for a spare cell saver, trucking into...

...Trauma Green, where Pratt, Erin, and Morgan are hanging out. Chuny gets her item and leaves, having abetted the scene transition very efficiently. Morgan stares at her father, motionless on a gurney with a blood-caked face, and wonders if he'll be okay. "Your father's in good hands, Morgan," Erin says smoothly. Pratt smarms that the hospital's second-best doctor is with him. Morgan is stupid, so she gets all confused and says, "'Second'?" Pratt smiles at the poor, sorry child who fell right into his bedside-manner trap. "Number one's working with you, isn't he?" Morgan, still stupid, is charmed by this. Morgan watches Gil's gurney roll away. "Where are they taking him?" she asks. "He needs a test we can't perform here in the ER," Pratt answers quickly. Erin covers the phone, which she's using to order an x-ray, so that she can thoughtlessly and obliviously pipe up, "Or surgery." Pratt glares at her, them smiles and offers Morgan a cast in any color of the rainbow. "I like pink," she says hopefully. "Me too," Pratt says.

Happy Fun Recreational Therapy. Eric's sitting at a table of miserable and vaguely catatonic-looking people who are leafing through magazines with pretty pictures. "Look for images that best describe your feelings during the hypermanic phases of your illness," Dr. Demento coos. "Hey, does anybody have a Viagra ad?" Eric goofs brightly. He's met with rapier-sharp silence. They're all high on perfume strips and photos of Ben Affleck's wig. "Kidding," mutters Eric.

Dr. Demento condescendingly tells Maggie and Abby that this little exercise in idiocy helps patients "identify the seductive side of their mania." Maggie's mouth twitches. "It seems so simple," she says nicely, but with an unmistakable edge. Dr. Demento explains that the sad and simplistic mind of the manic man needs to control his mad impulses with pretty pictures and colors and articles about which three-thousand-dollar berets are in style this year if you're insane, abusing Vicodin, and an accomplished shoplifter. "This allows them to move into a world of structure and self-discipline," he says proudly. Maggie doesn't buy any of this. "He'll adapt," Dr. Demento insists. "Obviously, you did." Smoke wafts from Maggie's nostrils. Speechless, she stares him down. "Thanks," she says through gritted teeth. She and a totally oblivious Abby leave.

Abby stops studying the wonders of her anal canal long enough to notice that Maggie isn't exactly thrilled with the Us Weekly approach to treating depression. "Do you think this is the right facility for him?" Maggie finally wonders. Abby groans. She hates it when people question her judgment, because it's always unimpeachable. Always. Except for her first husband, the secret abortion, the dye job, botching the Luka thing, treating Carter like horseshit...need I continue? Maggie's basically just alarmed at what they're making Eric do, and how they're at once simplifying and demeaning the disease. "Okay, the collages are stupid," Abby allows. "But that's only one part of the therapy." Maggie snorts that it would be mighty fine if Eric was ten. "Emotionally, he pretty much is," Abby shrugs. "No he's not," Maggie says, appalled, as well she should be. "Okay, fifteen," Abby says callously. What a bitch. He's not an illiterate half-wit. His brain hasn't suddenly dissolved just because he's bipolar. She's acting like it's the plague.

The non-argument continues outside. "I know how he feels," Maggie points out. "Like we're trying to take away his personality, the things he likes about himself." Abby counters that those very things are destroying him. Maggie suggests that letting Eric handle this independently, seeking his own therapy, taking a job, and trying to stay on his medication without supervision. Abby hates that idea. "You can't force medicine or therapy down his throat if he's not ready. It won't work," Maggie insists. "Oh, and you know what will?" Abby laughs hollowly. Um, yes. She's lived it. Why doesn't that matter to Abby? Maggie stops and fixes her daughter with a furious and hurt gaze. "Why do you do that? We're not talking about me. Why do you shove that in my face?" she asks. Abby answers that she hates the way Maggie tries to pretend she knows best. "Maybe this once, I do," Maggie spits. Abby says she's too unstable to get Eric through this. "I'm his mother," Maggie states. "Come on," groans Abby, snorting. "You've been in and out of hospitals for the past thirty years. You're not anybody's mother." Hey, gang, spike some hot chocolate for our new friend, Delinquent Mother of the Week #4. Maggie's lip curls in disgust. For a second, she doesn't move, and then she simply raises her head and walks curtly past Abby into the street. "Okay, wait," Abby calls after her, more irritated than contrite. If Abby's supposed to be the star of the new generation of ER, then the writers aren't doing their show any favors by dragging us into her family life in such a way that it makes us want to throttle her. At least when we're forced to endure Clan Carter, we feel sorry for him. A little. Until the butler shows up.

Rex is kicking Recovery's ass and stealing its lunch money. "I think he likes it here," says the nurse, who is patting him affectionately. Chen's with them, and they're in a regular room because there aren't any beds upstairs. "It's nice having a healthy baby down here," smiles the nurse. Rex gets all squiffy. He is so cute. It's enough to make my biological clock stop ticking backwards. Chen tries to stay clinical, but Nursie's way too enamored of Rex to talk shop. "I don't know how anybody could give him away," she clucks. Chen lets guilt wash over her eyes. She doesn't like it and it's totally unfair, but dammit, she can't stop it: The ER writers have turned her into Delinquent Mother of the Week #5. Merry F'n Christmas. "I'm sure she had her reasons call me if he won't feed," Chen says, running her words together in her attempt to sound brusque. She exits quickly.

In the hall, she passes Michael "Slurp" Gallant giving Susan the bullet on a woman with abdominal pain and tenderness, along with some of our old nemesis, vomiting. "Deb, have you seen Kovac anywhere?" Susan asks. I like that she called her "Deb." Not sure how new or old that is, but it fits. "No, sorry," Chen says. Susan grunts, "Of course not, he's only the swing-shift Attending." Gallant tries to give her more information, but Susan keeps ranting that she's not supposed to be covering for everybody, and she's really the only one with a work ethic around there, and it's all very tiring and sad, and could he please stop fogging up her halo with his breath? Gallant moves around in front of her and announces that he thinks the lady has food poisoning, but he's not totally certain. With a sigh, Susan pushes into her room.

The woman, Melody, is in the same room as Rex. Susan introduces herself with a pleasant smile and learns that Melody isn't feeling terribly well. Her boyfriend, sitting at her bedside, looks like a man who's worried and trying to act unconcerned for her sake. Because women are weak and excitable. Susan explains that they need to run a few more tests. "So you need to admit me?" Melody asks. "You hate hospitals as much as I do?" Susan grins. Her boyfriend reveals that Melody's a nurse, so she pretty much lives in hospitals. Gallant says he can't send her home unless they can control her vomiting. "She can't come to my house, either -- I just got new rugs," the boyfriend says. Hee. Melody and Susan both look horrified. "Kidding," he protests. Melody chuckles and Susan excuses herself with a giggle.

Elizabeth pries Morgan's photo from Gil's cold, dying hand, and orders him more drugs. They're waiting outside the OR. "Are you comfortable?" she asks. "No," Gil replies. Elizabeth explains rather distantly that they need to play Spot the Hemorrhage, Stop the Bleeding, and finally Snatch the Spleen, followed by a sprightly round of Rip Out Your Injured Bowels And Rearrange What's Left of Your Intestines. That's the game I'm best at, but usually I only play it at parties, so maybe it's the hooch that makes me so good. "My daughter," Gil croaks. "She's fine. Are you sure we can't contact your wife for you?" Elizabeth asks. "She barely remembers her," Gil says. "She left us." Elizabeth thinks he is referring to death, but no, he's referring to maternal delinquency, the plague that's infesting this entire episode. Elizabeth adds "abdominal anvil removal" to the long list of surgical procedures she'll be performing on Gil. He exposits that his wife ditched out on them because she "couldn't be there for [Morgan], so she left it to me to be the Mom and the Dad." Aw, so he's both? He's both sexes? Wow. Both sexes. Imagine it.

Dr. Luka "Man-Whore" Kovac breezes into the hospital and yells that he needs assistance. "Kovac, you're late," snaps Susan. They stride toward the sliding doors. "Blame my alarm clock," he sasses. "Oh yeah? What's her name?" she snarks. Ooh, good one. Damn her.

Cut to Susan and Luka coming back through the doors, this time with a patient in tow. It's kind of a jarring cut, because not only are we facing a different direction, but they're moving in a different direction. Odd choice by Paul McCrane, but he's randy and bald and sassy, so I'll let it slide. The patient is an eight-two-year-old woman -- "I'm not an old woman," she gums, all flapping skin to the contrary -- named Matilda, who collapsed in her kitchen and injured her hip. They've no idea when she fell; the landlord only found her because she was late with rent. "Beautiful name you have," Luka beams. She appreciates this mild flirtation. Susan asks if she took anything, and the paramedic points out that she had diabetes medication two feet away in her purse, just out of reach. "Lucky she's not in a coma," Susan realizes.

Pratt carries Morgan into another room. She needs to go to the bathroom, but they have no wheelchairs because a conveniently timed wheelchair thief has raided the ER, resulting in Morgan needing to use a bedpan. They leave so she can urinate in private, and Pratt orders Erin to find the mother's phone number because Gil will be under the knife for several hours. They hear a clatter just as Pratt's paged; he sends Erin in to check on Morgan. "It's okay," Morgan shouts. Erin knocks and then enters. "No, don't!" screams Morgan. Erin enters and stops with a gasp just as Morgan stands up and whirls, embarrassed, to face the camera. "Oh my God, you're a boy," Erin gulps. We fade to black feeling really sorry for the female actress in this part who was chosen for her possible androgyny, but relieved that her name isn't Pat.

"A twelve-year-old cross-dresser?" Pratt says in disbelief. Erin shrugs that Morgan is a boy, and that's that. "And you're sure?" Pratt sputters. "I've seen my fair share of penises," Erin defends herself. "Really?" Pratt asks, suddenly intrigued. Oh, chill out, pants pirate, you aren't gonna board that ship. Erin basically shoves Pratt into the room to talk to the humiliated Morgan.

Pratt enters awkwardly and faces an upset, flushed Morgan. "Hey," he begins. Strong opener. "I want to see my dad," Morgan says. Pratt tells her that Gil's still in surgery for a long time. "So what's the deal?" he asks, perching on the bed. "I have the wrong body," Morgan sighs. Pratt thinks she's too young to make that decision, but Morgan quietly that insists she's always known. "We moved so I could start over," she explains. "Nobody knows." Pratt very sensitively points out that people are going to find out, because a good penis is hard to hide. "Not if we keep moving," Morgan sniffles. "And when I'm old enough, I'm going to get the operation." Pratt fidgets. "What does your Mom have to say about that?" he asks. Morgan bitterly reveals that her mother has a new family, and begs Pratt to call her father's friend instead. "She thinks I'm a freak!" Morgan cries. "Just like you do. Please." Pratt gazes into her hurt eyes and concedes, "What's his friend's name?"

Erin accosts Pratt and begs him for instructions, because she can't do anything without a direct order. She's probably a dominatrix after-hours -- no one can be that subservient all the time. Pratt tells her not to call the mother, or indeed anyone, just yet. Leon appears to interrupt the conversation, sobbing that his boss fired him for no apparent reason. "He was mean, G, he hit me with a broom!" sobs Leon. "I didn't do nothin'!" Aw. I want to hug him. Pratt grabs Leon and worriedly takes him outside.

Jerry hands the phone to Carter. "Someone's asking for you," he says. "'Anita Coffee'?" Carter perks up. We cut outside to see him zipping up his coat and trotting over to a waiting Abby. "Is that a pseudonym or a cry for help?" he grins. "Pretty clever, huh?" she grins. They kiss hello, which manages to feel natural, and Abby explains that she didn't feel like dealing with anyone inside the hospital so she decided to force him to take a break and walk outside in the cold. She loves him so much. "Everything okay?" Carter asks. "Yeah, I just need company," she says, and they slip casually into each others' arms while crossing to Doc Magoo's.

Matilda crabbily tells Luka that she'd hoped the mailman would find her. "[But] I don't get much mail," she admits. Susan wants her to stop talking so she can hear Matilda's chest, so the older woman leans back and promptly nods off. Her monitors beep wildly. "Matilda?" Luka shouts. They can't get her to wake up and worry she's gone into some kind of coma. Yosh is there. The two things aren't related, but it's just nice to realize that Yosh is in a scene. Susan grabs a tongue depressor and shoves it down Matilda's throat to test her gag reflex. Matilda coughs and sits up, disgusted. "What the hell are you doing?" she roars. "I was having a nice rest until this bitch started choking me." Luka's amused by her spunk. Susan's repelled by her old-woman quirks. Luckily, she's saved by Haleh, who's got Melody's son in tow. Susan bolts gratefully.

Susan explains to the son, Jeremy, that Melody's been throwing up frequently and they think it could be food poisoning. As they enter her room, Jeremy insists that they ate the same thing and he's fine. "How come you didn't call me?" he demands, upset. "I ...thought you were going to?" Melody says meekly, turning to her boyfriend. "I didn't get a chance," he says apologetically. Melody tells Jeremy not to stay there just to watch her sleep, but he's fine with it. "Bill's got to go to work, right?" he says, his eyes glinting. But Bill does not. Put-out, Jeremy follows Susan out of the room under the guise of seeking some reading material for Melody. "If you need anything official, ask me and not him, okay?" Jeremy spits. Susan wonders densely if there's some problem with Bill. "No, he's just kind of a jerk sometimes," Jeremy brats, stalking away.

A cup of coffee sits on the table. We pan out to see that it belongs to Carter, who's sitting across from Abby in a diner booth. Paul McCrane seems to like those pull-backs where you focus on one thing and then back away to see what the scene's really about. Abby says Maggie just went back to the apartment after their tiff, and she went straight to the hospital. "I'll pick him up tonight, we'll all have dinner, it'll be fine," she says, unconcerned. Then she whispers conspiratorially, "As soon as she leaves." Carter stares at her for a second, then averts his gaze. "What happens then?" he asks, unsuccessfully trying to sound casual. Abby furrows her brow and figures she and Eric will get into a routine where he's on pills and she's working days so that she can baby-sit him at night and read him bedtime stories and change the bulb in his night-lights. Carter blinks. This will seriously put a kink in his sex life, which probably needs all the kinks it can get. "So you're going to be roommates now?" he coughs. "Well, I can't just let him wander off and hope for the best," she duhs. "He needs my help." Carter's eyebrows twitch upward, and he nods slowly with pursed lips, shying away from eye contact. Even Abby's not so dense that she doesn't notice he's skeptical. "Too much?" Abby asks. Carter exhales. "I just think it's a responsibility that you could share," he says carefully. "With who? Maggie?" Abby snorts. Carter's eyes show how deeply that dagger pierces him; Noah Wyle does a super job pegging the mixture of hurt and anger and disillusionment. As the sadness seeps into his expression, Abby me-me-mes a story about how Maggie used to abandon them in the middle of the night, so much so that it became their routine: get up, make sure Maggie's not gone, and proceed from there. "When she was gone, I was left with my little brother, this skinny kid who never did anything wrong and was good and sweet and beautiful, and I would have to tell him that everything was going to be okay," she recalls. Carter listens with concern. "What would he say?" Carter asks. "'You're a liar,'" Abby remembers. Carter scratches his chin. He's gripping the cold reality that he's been getting his jollies at the intersection of Bitter and Majorly Effed Up.

Gil is dying. "Why tell me all that if you're not going to fight!" Elizabeth yells at him. "You have a daughter who needs you, dammit!" Yeah, we know, thanks. She tries everything, including changing the leads on the paddles, but it's no use. Gil is deader than David E. Kelley's talent. "God, I hate this," Elizabeth curses.

Luka promises Matilda that they'll attend to her every need until such time as she's wheeled into surgery. She's scared, the old coot. "You'll be fine," he assures her. "No wedding ring," she notices. "A good-looking man like you?" Luka frowns, embarrassed. Matilda goes on and on about how she's a lonely old woman with no family, but at least now there's less of a stigma attached to spinsters. As a never-been-a-mom, maybe she's a DMOW variant -- Delinquent Mother of the Week #6: The Selfish Egg-Hoarder. Matilda sighs that all that spare time made her a killer chess player. Luka listens patiently, then merrily challenges her to a game. Matilda is charmed, as would I be if Luka was offering to attack my pieces.

Yosh dumps another Weaver duty on Susan: She's got to cover a finance committee meeting. Susan's pissed that she's Kerry's whipping girl simply because she's been Touched by a Weavus. "Dr. Lewis," Gallant calls out. "I used to think that would be so cool to hear," Susan sighs tiredly. Gallant bounds up and informs her that Melody's toxicology tests showed an aspirin overdose. Susan, confused, remembers that Melody's a nurse, and would therefore know that it's not safe to take twenty aspirin, but that it's also not enough to kill her. "Do me a favor -- pull her medical records," she decides. So, wait. They treat people for mystery ailments, or even non-mystery ailments, without studying their files or patient history? Is that normal? That scares me. It's like writing the thesis first and then researching it.

"Dr. Lewis?" someone calls. Groaning, Susan whirls, only to see Chen and Nursie cooing over Rex and trying to name him. "Don't ask me," Susan says flatly. "I named my dog Puddles. Talk about a self-fulfilling prophecy." They all laugh at Susan's urinary misfortune. Except, I thought she named her pet dog Happy. Maybe I'm remembering wrong, and Happy wasn't a dog. But, I think it was. I'd also, in light of the exchange, like to point out that in the same paragraph to which I just linked, I made a crack about Carter preferring really pretentious names. Damn, I'm good. Carter appears, because he can. "Which do you like -- Percy or Oliver?" Nursie asks. "Rudyard," Carter replies. Chen groans. "What's the matter with Rudyard?" Carter wonders cluelessly. Oh, honey. Go back to prep school.

Carter turns to see a weary Elizabeth slumping down from the OR. She informs him of Gil's passing and asks where Morgan is. Carter searches the room for Pratt, finds Erin instead, and calls to her. "You worked on [Gil's] kid, right?" he asks. "Did you reach the mother?" Elizabeth asks. "Pratt was going to handle it," Erin says. "The girl's father just died," Elizabeth explains. "Boy," Erin says. Carter and Elizabeth, dumbfounded, can only gape. "I wanted to call the mother, but Dr. Pratt didn't," Erin says. What an ass-kisser! She thinks she's getting busted for not calling the mother, so she's shoving the blame on Pratt's shoulders. Savvy. And yet also, totally fine with me. Elizabeth finally -- finally! -- remembers all Gil's ramblings about an estrangement, and the tidy symbolism of Gil the Mom-Dad and his Multi-Gendered Kid. Because Pratt's not there, Carter overrules his edict and orders Erin to contact Morgan's mother because she's the of kin. Erin scampers away.

Abby marches into the treatment center to pick up Eric, only to discover that he's already gone. "He withdrew from the program," Dr. Demento says coolly. "And went where?" Abby gapes. Dr. Demento smarmily suggests that Abby check with Maggie, because Maggie herself swiped Eric from the center an hour ago. Floored, Abby hangs her mouth open so far you can see straight through her colon. We fade to black intrigued by the fact that there wasn't one cut in that entire scene -- the camera caught Abby entering, followed her, then the actors moved within its sights. Very fluidly shot and blocked.

Pratt marches up to an old man at a flower shop. He figures that the best way to help Leon is to be angry, and to brow-beat everyone into complying with his wishes. "I got no problem with you," the man grumbles. "Fire Leon and you do," Pratt menaces. "Use a broom on him, and you've got an even bigger problem with me." He snarls that Leon does nothing but be punctual and work himself into the ground doing any little task without complaint, and so it's possible Leon doesn't quite understand it when he gets unceremoniously fired. The florist spits that his store got robbed by some thugs who had a key. "How the hell do you think they got one? Think I left it in the door?" he rants. Pratt's stunned, and desperately swears that Leon wouldn't do anything like that, and even if he gave the key to someone, he wouldn't have had a clue about any of the rest of it. "Let me tell you something," the florist says. "That dumb-ass brother of yours ain't so dumb." Pratt throws him up against a wall and reveals the heretofore secret reason behind Leon's apparent lack of common sense. "The man took a bullet in his head," he yells. "He's not dumb. Look, he wouldn't do this." TPTB's all, "See? Pratt's a sensitive man with a sensitive past of tragedy." Feh. But, poor smiley Leon. The florist threatens to have them both arrested, so Pratt backs off, but not without warning the man to leave Leon alone. The man, who mostly outsizes Pratt, has no reason to listen to this but we assume that he does, because life's a lot easier that way.

Carter sadly introduces himself to Gil's ex-wife, who we remember fondly as the heretofore-faceless DMOW #3. She's relieved that Morgan is mostly whole and stunned to hear about Gil's death, but not exactly upset; the expression on her face is more what you'd expect to see on someone who breaks her last pencil during the SAT. Except, still far less upset. "I understand it's been some time since you've seen Morgan," Carter begins. "Three years," DMOW #3 says. "And are you, um...are you aware that he's been living as a girl?" Carter presses gently. DMOW #3 gulps that she and Gil disagreed on how to handle that, and so when Morgan chose Gil, she didn't object. Nor, apparently, did she try to keep up with her child. Cow. She freaks at the idea of breaking the news to Morgan, so Carter offers to do it, but wants her to be there. Reluctantly, she agrees.

Morgan, of course, takes one look at her mother and knows something's horribly amiss. "Hi, honey," DMOW #3 says awkwardly, pretending everything's fine and she's cool and pro-tranny. "Where's my dad?" Morgan panics. Carter sits down and carefully explains that the OR surgeons worked a really long time to keep Gil's heart pumping during his surgery. "No," Morgan shakes her head. "No!" Carter quietly tells her that Gil died. "No! No, no, no," Morgan moans. DMOW #3 hugs Morgan's head to her chest, but not too tightly. "Sweetie, I'll take care of you, okay?" she says unconvincingly. She'd clearly rather be hugging a cactus, but hey, them's the breaks, beeyotch.

A guy with his broken hand strung up asks Luka when he can play basketball again. "Uh, soon," Luka says distractedly, turning to Erin to give her some instructions. "Your ears get red when you lie," she whispers to him with a gleeful grin. She's practically nibbling on them, too. Step off, Erin. Luka blushes and struts the three steps to Matilda's bed. "You don't even have to try, do you?" Matilda asks. Luka densely doesn't get it. "With women," she prods. Nope, he doesn't, but that's because he's started paying. Maybe Matilda senses this, because she abruptly whips out her checkbook. Perhaps this is her way of vicariously having sex with Luka -- by funding his hooker habit. "Is that pronounced Ko-vack?" she asks. Luka corrects her with his sexy, velvety Croatian accent, and I swear, when he says it, "Kovac" sounds exactly like, "Say yes, Heather, and I'll ravage you senseless." Rrowr. "I'm tipping you," Matilda informs him. "You seem like a nice young man." Luka flushes and says he can't accept it. Why? "Because you need it for yourself," he laughs. Note: not because it's unethical, or just plain creepy, but rather because it seems impractical. Poor, strange Luka. Matilda plays the Ace of Pity, insisting that she's hoarded her cash throughout her entire life, and finally, she's got someone she wants to spend it on, and he's refusing it. "I can't," Luka says without conviction. "Says who?" crabs Matilda shrilly. Erin whips her head around to watch. "Take it!" Matilda screeches, waving the check around. "I'm an old, arthritic woman, I can't hold my arm out forever. TAKE IT."

Apparently, Luka did take it, because Erin chases him out of that room like an ant to a picnic. A hot, foreign, money picnic that drips sex. "Can someone really do that?" she gasps, fascinated. "I've never had it happen before," Luka shrugs. Erin can't believe he didn't look at the check to see what it's worth, and Susan overhears. "Oh my God, you accepted money from a patient?" she hisses. Erin grabs the check from Luka to peer at the amount. "That's completely unethical," Susan scolds. "It made her feel good to give me a token of her appreciation, so yes, Susan, I took it," Luka spits impatiently. "Hello, have her send you a basket of muffins," Susan grimaces. "It'll probably bounce anyway," Luka protests. Grossed out, Susan leaves as Erin announces that the check's worth a cool ten-thousand bones. Which, if you consider what he'll spend it on, is a meaningful turn of phrase.

Gallant brandishes Melody's medical records. I'll save us all some time: Yes, she's being physically abused, and yes, the aspirin was a cry for help, and yes, we got it a while ago. "Looks like Melody's got a lousy boyfriend," Susan says ruefully, staring at her sleeping patient.

Abby bursts through the front door and slams it angrily. "I tried to call," says Maggie, stuffing clothes into a suitcase. "What's the matter with you?" Abby seethes. Maggie calmly tells her that her way isn't Eric's way -- not right now. Abby accuses Maggie of being selfishly motivated, which is sort of like the pot calling the kettle a fat lump of metal. She demands to know where Eric is and buzzes through the apartment in search of him, but he's not there. "The only way someone with this gets better is if they want to," Maggie says firmly. And, seriously, as upsetting as it is that it took Maggie this long to get a handle on her disease, she's obviously the working expert here. I hate how Abby treats her, even though I understand her reluctance to let Maggie back into her life. Abby finds this approach unsatisfactory and demands to know what their plan is, if Maggie and Eric even bothered to concoct one. "We're going back to Minnesota in the morning," Maggie says. "What? No you're not," Abby sucks wind. "Do you have any idea how many strings I had to pull to get him into that center? Me me me, me! Me me. And more me!" Maggie promises that she'll keep an eye on him and get him to her psychiatrist as often as she can. "Me on a plate with Me sauce and Me sorbet for dessert," Abby says. "I'll keep him on his meds, if I can," Maggie says. "IF YOU CAN?" yells Abby in disbelief. "I realize this is hard for you to understand..." Maggie begins. "No, it's impossible, actually," Abby sputters. "I love him too!" Maggie insists. "Hot-buttered Me!" Abby rants. "I know you think you're the only one who's ever been there for either of us, and maybe that's true," Maggie trembles. "The 'Me' Show!" Abby screams. "Abby, I'm here now," Maggie booms. Silence. Sally Field totally could've eaten some scenery here, but she was so restrained, and in my eyes it's been a better performance than the histrionics that won her the Emmy™. "Where is he?" Abby spews, slowly and venomously.

Chen cuddles baby Rex, who is still completely healthy, and therefore without intrigue. "Excuse me," Melody says from behind her. "We've both been in here for hours and I haven't been able to see his face. Could I?" Chen grins and carries Rex over to introduce him to his first roommate. Melody tickles his chin. "I love this age," she chokes emotionally. "It's when they really need you." Rex's head turns into an anvil, and he and Chen drop through the floor. And then Chen, flooded with memories, immediately hands Rex off to avoid crying and stares morosely into space as Nursie leaves with him. "Did you ever name him?" asks an approaching Susan. "No," Chen says emptily, leaving. Oh, please can we avoid a reverse Weaver story where Chen tries reuniting with her baby. Yuck.

Susan turns to Melody and asks where Bill went. "He had to get to work," she says. "Right," snorts Susan, who promptly busts Melody on her deliberate but not-dangerous-enough aspirin overdose. "What was it, twenty pills? Must've been some headache," she reprimands. "Are you trying to get his sympathy, or are you trying to get away from him?" Melody, crushed, begins tearing up. "We both know you've been beaten," Susan says, a little gentler this time. "Melody, someone is hurting you. You have to turn him in to the police." Melody weeps softly that she can't do that. Susan gives her the cycle of violence speech until Melody reveals that she just needs to be there for a few days until he joins the Navy. "Your boyfriend?" Susan puzzles. "My son," chokes Melody melodramatically. Oh, wow, a variant on Delinquent Mother of the Week -- a Delinquent Son of the Week, to match with our developing delinquent daughter (Abby). How clever.

Pratt bursts through the door and asks what he missed; he's not pleased when he hears from Erin that Gil died and DMOW #3 is in with Morgan right now. "I told you not to do anything!" he rages at her. "You weren't here!" she cries. "Learn to follow simple instructions, Harkins," Pratt seethes. "I did, per Dr. Carter," Erin shouts as Pratt disappears into Morgan's room. Again with the blame game. She's headed for the tournament of champions.

Pratt finds DMOW #3 giving Morgan an unseemly haircut. She looks almost robotic, cutting chunks off methodically while Morgan glares emptily at the wall, wishing the scissors would please hack of something else on her body. "I can't bring him home this way," DMOW #3 chants. "His stepfather would never accept him." Pratt begs her not to do it, but she ignores him, clipping away with a zombie's remove. "He's my little boy," she mutters. "I'm doing this for him. It's the best thing." Morgan locks eyes with Pratt. We fade to black feeling completely wigged out by this kid's serial-killer eyes.

Chen examines some random guy. He's cute, but it goes nowhere, dammit, and that's the cruelest thing of all because, well, I'm easy. Chuny calls Chen away because a young woman is asking for her. I'd know that hat anywhere: It's Delinquent Mother of the Week #2. "I changed my mind," the girl says. "I want my baby back." Chen stiffens, tempted to shove this woman and her quasi-restaurant jingle straight onto the El train tracks. Erin appears out of nowhere, because that's just what she does. "Is this the mother?" she asks. Chen ignores her, because that's just what she does. "Do you want to tell me what happened?" she asks. "No," DMOW #2 replies. For some reason, that made me laugh, probably because I'm tired of ruthless exposition. "I just want him back," she continues. "Oh yeah, for how long?" Erin snaps. Chen turns to her. "Can you get me the potassium level on Mr. Pinkus?" she says coldly. Erin bounds away as quickly as she came, because yes, that's just what she does. DMOW #2 explains -- oh, man, they always explain eventually -- that she was scared before, but she isn't anymore because she's certain her mother will help her care for Rex. "Have you told her?" Chen asks. "No, but I'm going to," she insists. "He's mine. Can I see him?" Chen lets out a few shallow breaths before ordering Chuny to take DMOW #2 up to Rex. "Mother of the year, huh?" Erin says, appearing again long enough to be derisive. "At least she's trying," Chen spits at her. "She left her baby with a bunch of strangers. How is that trying?" Erin snorts. Chen brushes her off. I really wish they weren't trying to imply that Chen's situation is at all similar to this girl's. Chen gave her child up for adoption. She didn't pop her kid out of the womb and into a duffel bag that she then deposited in a crowded ER. I think it's a pretty major distinction.

Matilda beeps her way into heart failure. "Not surprising after lying on the floor for two days," whispers Susan, sitting in the corner of the dim room watching the older woman die. "She probably got a blood clot that broke off and went to her lungs," Haleh observes. Luka barges into the room, crushed. "Why didn't someone come get me?" he asks, hurt. Susan says Matilda ordered them not to take heroic measures; Luka can't believe he didn't know this, but Haleh confirms that she has it in writing. More beeping. "Aren't you off yet?" Susan asks. "An hour ago," Luka says, staring dazedly at dead Matilda, who handled loneliness far longer and far better than he. And who will now never contest the cashing of her check. Susan offers to finish the job, but Luka's too busy staring emptily at Matilda. She finally beeps her way into the great beyond. While they wait for Luka to call it, Haleh and another nurse dish the bingo jackpot. It's five thousand dollars. Bingo, shmingo! Befriend an old crone. It pays more. Luka snaps out of his reverie and calls the time of death.

Gallant bonds with Jeremy over their armed-forces love. Gallant is so easy. Susan approaches and with fake reluctance tells Jeremy that his mother's developing a stomach ulcer that will require her to stay under observation for several days. She lists a few other things that sound official enough to dupe Jeremy, but which of course set off all the alarm bells in Gallant's proper little head. "I'm shipping out in a couple of days!" panics Jeremy. "Good thing they invented telephones," Susan shrugs, walking away and leaving Jeremy looking quite constipated. She should give him something for that.

Gallant gives chase. "What was your diagnosis?" he asks suspiciously. "Unintentional aspirin overdose," Susan replies. "That's what she's telling the social worker." Gallant can't figure this out, so Susan reveals that Jeremy beats Melody. Gallant looks crushed that his military buddy is a mom-beater. "He leaves for good in two days, and she doesn't want it to be for jail," Susan concludes. That's awfully morbid. Sailors who ship out do come back more often than not. "So you made up a diagnosis?" he asks. "No, I stretched one," Susan clarifies. Luka looks up from his post nearby. "Sounds unethical," he says pointedly. Heh. Zing! Susan shoots him a poisoned look. "So is eavesdropping," she snaps.

Abby marches up to Eric and Maggie's hotel room, her quiet and reluctant mother in tow. Maggie hands her the card key. "Eric, it's Abby," she calls out, knocking on the door. As she opens it, though, the chain lock pulls taut. "Can you let me in?" she pleads. Eric switches off the TV. "Are you alone?" he asks. "No, Mom's here too," Abby says with hesitation. Eric appears in the door's crack. "Why'd you bring her?" he pouts. "She's worried about you, Eric," Maggie says calmly. Eric removes the chain lock, takes Maggie's suitcase, and blocks the door, telling Abby he wants her to leave. "I don't want you in my life right now," he says firmly. Abby freezes, her eyes moist and wide. Shot from a slightly higher angle than usual, she looks girlish and needy. Eric hustles Maggie inside and tries to close the door on his sister. "Eric, don't do this," she begs, her voice breaking. "You need help." He won't look at her. "I don't want to hurt you," he says flatly. On the verge of breaking into sobs, Abby begs him to turn to her for her favorite buzzwords -- structure and stability -- because he needs someone he can trust. Fed up, Eric explodes, "That's not you anymore, okay?" Abby, crushed, recoils in absolute pain. It's not a physical thing, because she barely moves; no, it happens more in her eyes, which is sadder and the only time I even felt close to sorry for Abby in this episode. She's watching Eric become the one thing she was forced to protect him from -- Maggie -- and she's losing the one person who validated her life. Sure, she took care of Maggie, but it was a chore. Protecting Eric and being his big sister was the one thing that made Abby feel good, and now it's gone. It's her own fault for being pushy and superior, but it's still sad. Although I think, given that she was a mother to Eric, she's feeling like Delinquent Mother #7 -- she couldn't protect him, so she's failed. Maybe now she and Maggie, united by the DMOW bond, can start to relate. "You don't understand," Eric insists. "Yes, I do," she cringes. "You think you do, but you don't, you're not like us. You never will be," Eric blasts her, walking away. Maggie appears in the doorframe and promises to call them from Minnesota. Abby wrenches the knife from her stomach. "Don't bother," she says, reeling, staggering back down the hall. "Abby?" Maggie calls after her tentatively. No answer. "Abby," she repeats more firmly. Still nothing.

Pratt storms into the doctors' lounge, where Carter's relaxing. "Taking off?" he asks. "I have to make up time," Pratt snots. "Seems like I took too long of a break." Carter points out that Pratt can't just leave, and certainly not for an hour, even if he did sign out with Chen first. "You weren't here, so I overrode your order, but I didn't have much of a choice," Carter defends himself. "You could've waited, you could've paged me, you could've respected the kid's wishes," Pratt seethes. And he could've explained the situation more thoroughly to Erin, knowing he'd be leaving to confront Leon's boss, but he didn't because he's a jackass. How does that shoe feel on the other foot, Pratt? I hope it feels like the vise of Satan. Carter swears that he hates what happened, but DMOW #3 is Morgan's only family now. "Define 'family,'" Pratt spits. I love it when the writers go ahead and give us the moral of the story in one neatly hissed sentence. It makes my TV viewing experience so much more delightfully mindless.

As Pratt exits the lounge, everything starts moving in slow motion. That would freak me out, but he's fine with it. DMOW #3 wheels Morgan out of the hospital, his/her new family in tow. From under his shaggy and hideous short haircut, Morgan stares at Pratt, and I'm not kidding, that kid looks about two years away from a murderous rage. Yeesh. Pratt gulps and leaves as a concerned Chen watches. Her gaze then drifts to DMOW #2, who's leaving with her own mother and her baby. "That's her," DMOW #2 whispers. Chen smiles at the girl's mother. "She never told me," says the mother, who herself looks incredibly young. "I just thought that she'd gained some weight." Oh, great. Another one. I thought we were going to escape without Delinquent Mother of the Week #8, but alas, here she is, in all her dubious glory. Chen watches them leave together, quite sadly. Then Susan's huge head busts into the shot. "I so need a margarita," she nasals. "Ready?" Chen just looks at her with a knowing smile. "Come on, I hate drinking alone," whines Susan. "I mean, I'll do it, but..." Chen cuts her off, "See you tomorrow." Susan gives a good-natured grunt and leaves. I hope they're not falling back on an alcoholism storyline for her, too. She and Abby would be an insufferable pair.

A naughty lady of the night sits in Luka's black Dodge Penis. "How dare you say that my behaviour's unacceptable?" sings a gravelly testicle. Luka stares at his ho from inside a seedy check-cashing joint, then turns back to the window and proffers as if by rote the I.D. and pay stub required to cash his ten-thousand dollar windfall. The startled teller reminds him of the 20% fee, which doesn't faze him in the slightest. He gets the dosh in Benjamins and gets ready to hand it off after his hooker, er, hands him off.

Pratt arrives home to a frustrated Leon, who can't find another job posting that suits him. As he whines about McDonald's not offering all-you-can-eat to compensate for its piss-poor wages, Pratt notices an Xbox on the counter. "What's this?" he demands. "An Xbox, G!" Leon giggles delightedly. His friends gave it to him to console him -- hee, get it? Console, console...hey, come on, I'm trying -- when they found out he got fired. "They won it or something," Leon smiles. Pratt stomps his foot. "Leon, did it come in a box?" he asks impatiently. Leon's face falls in confusion.

Okay, I'm typing this at 2 AM, and The Hotel New Hampshire just came on, featuring the one and only Paul McCrane. It's a sign! Of what, I'm not sure. Hopefully, that I will finish this recap in the ten minutes before my hands cramp into useless claws.

Carter trudges home through the snow, stopping short when he sees Abby smoking despondently on the steps. "Every once in a while, you have a really perfect cigarette, you know?" she rasps. "Everything about it is perfect -- the taste, the moment." Carter tells her it causes cancer. Thanks, Carter. "I left you a message. How did it go?" he asks. She drags on her cigarette and peers evasively at him. "With what?" she says innocently. Carter shakes his head and turns away, annoyed. "Are you going to let me in, or do I have to guess?" he sighs. "Nothing happened," she says curtly. "Despite the best-laid plans, nothing happened. Mostly because they left." Carter can't believe it. "They went off into the sunset together. It was very romantic," Abby says bitterly. "I don't really want to talk about this right now because it's ruining my perfect smoke." Carter purses his lips, trying not to cry because big boys don't do that. Still, he makes it clear that she's being incredibly childish. Abby exhales and crushes out her cigarette. "It's okay, I'm done," she decides. "I'm done with the both of them, done with all of it." She gets up and flounces inside. "Cancel Christmas," she spits, leaving Carter alone and gnawing on his chilly lip in worry and woundedness.