Previously on ER: Patrick Fugit fromAlmost Famousshowed up with Tom Green Cancer, but he didn't get the added therapy of screwing Drew Barrymore. Chen confessed to Pratt that she had a baby once. He stroked her hair, or something. And, in case you're really out of it and you didn't realize that ER stands for Everyone Related to Abby, Abby's brother Eric developed bipolar depression and there was friction. But he appeared recently to be on his meds, and had bought a plane, and everyone was as happy as miserable people can be, until his plane disappeared. And also, fresh from the mean streets of The Amazing Race, the beautiful and talented Miss Alli dropped by long enough to kick this show's ass with a kick-ass recap. And there was much rejoicing. Thanks, Miss Alli!
Abby's kitchen is dark. On the table, in the foreground, is an open and half-empty bottle of tequila. Or, as the poor beleaguered tequila itself might say, half-escaped. Carter unlocks the front door and enters, quietly calling Abby's name. The captioning claims we can hear an alarm clock buzzing, but we can't. (Not yet.) As he deposits his stuff in the living room, Carter strolls to the bedroom with a sidelong glance at the kitchen. He spies the tequila and rolls his eyes, because that's a lot of Cuervo to down when there's no salt or lime in sight. Sighing heavily, he enters the bedroom and sees Abby lying sprawled on her stomach near the edge of the bed, messy and looking very much like she passed out in the center of one of the three mattresses she was seeing at the time. Her beeping alarm clock is now audible. Carter slowly takes off his jacket, gazing pityingly at her. He seems at once disappointed in her, unsurprised by this, and sorry for her. Then, Carter lies down on the bed and reaches over to turn off the alarm, not appearing to wonder if the blaring buzzer might have signaled that Abby needs to wake up for one reason or another. No, instead he spoons her, strokes her shoulder, and looks lost, then closes his eyes.
Weaver leans on the buzzer of an apartment building near the El track. Just as she's about to give up on the occupant, Luka throws open the door and apologizes. He looks sultry, as usual. Stiff greetings ensue, because they didn't get a chance to sort out their differences with a few notes during study hall. Finally, Luka invites her inside, but Weaver declines. "I'm on my way to work," she says. "Remember? That place where you used to practice medicine?" Luka blinks. "I told you I needed time off," he replies emptily. "Yeah, well, you've had it," Weaver snaps. "Rumor is you've quit, but I see nothing official, so I scheduled you to work the 12-to-12 shift today." Luka shrugs that he still has things to do. Things. The writers aren't sure what he must do, or indeed what he's been doing this entire time, but they're pretty sure it involves Things. Do whores count as Things? What about recappers? Weaver snots that Luka has until noon to decide whether he still wants to be a doctor, "or don't bother coming back." She's all snippy, but I swear, this is her maladjusted way of trying to reach out to him. Problem is, she's reaching out with the hand that's wrapped around her crutch, which makes for some very painful bruising on the part of her target.
Luckily for Kerry, the mugger in the blue jacket comes along after she's already left, so he didn't ruin her last-word huffy exit. Nonetheless, the mugger that runs up behind her does indeed snatch her purse. Alas, he's the stupidest mugger in the world, because his escape route involved running through traffic, and as anyone who's played Frogger knows, it's not always easy to get to the lily pads. A car smacks into him and he crumples. "Call 911!" Weaver shouts, hobbling to his side. "Don't move!" The kid stirs to life, leaps up, and continues running. "Come back here!" Weaver screams, as if the mugger is going to stop in his tracks and say, "Damn, good point. I should go back there." Weaver screams, "You could be seriously injured!" The mugger keeps on trucking, and no one so much as tries to trip him. In a fit of pique, Kerry curses, "You assho..." The credits cut off the end of her word so that the youth of today won't be dirtied by the foul mouth of a robbery victim who, incidentally, said the same word last week without censorship. We fade to black wondering why "Ass Ho" is considered more acceptable by NBC, and we conclude that the word "hole" is delightfully dirty.
Abby, wrapped in a blanket, shuffles sloppily into the kitchen and stares at Carter as if she doesn't recognize him. Maybe she drank her way back into Season Six. Carter sees her out of the corner of his eye and jumps, startled. "You scared me," he breathes. "You okay?" Abby continues to stare at him, half-wincing. I think she hates his hair. His longish 'do makes him look like evil Beth -- or Little Boy Peep, as I call her -- on Passions. If he starts spending his life lurking in doorways and bugging out his eyes and swaying indiscriminately and trying to kill his old mother with the heart problem who knows the real truth about him...well, then it probably means I'm hallucinating. "When did you get here?" Abby rasps at him. I'm sure that, in her world, that means, "Thanks for coming home, it's so nice to see you! How was your trip?" But most of us don't speak Selfish Old Bag, so we're left with the impression that she is, in fact, a slaghole. "Couple hours ago," Carter replies. "You were still sleeping. On this, he glibly picks up the tequila bottle and reaches for the cap. He makes his point without saying anything, probably well aware that, given the success of his conversations with Abby about drinking, he should pick his battles right now and this isn't one of them. Abby twitches a little, but she's too tired and hung-over to care. "Any news?" he asks, slowly screwing the cap onto the top of the open bottle, still making sure she knows that he knows, and he knows that she knows that he knows, and that he's a good little boy who won't tell tales to teacher as long as she'll let him cop a feel behind the bleachers. Abby shakes her head. Carter offers her breakfast. She ignores him and asks if the phone rang. He shakes his head silently. "I thought I heard the phone ring," she mutters. That was your head ringing, Abby. She continues to ignore Carter's offers of coffee and aspirin, and instead barks that he must call her if anyone tries to contact her with information. "Where are you going?" he asks, confused. "I took a shift," she calls from the bedroom. Carter slams his cup onto the table in disbelief. FootCam shows us his feet heading toward her, as she's framed in the distance in the bedroom. Then we cut back to a closer shot of them meeting in the hallway area. Weird. "I've got to keep busy," she whispers. She begins to babble, but he cuts her off with a hug. "They're going to find him," he insists. "Thank you for coming back," Abby replies quietly. Finally.
Weaver angrily erases the board and bitches to everyone about the inconvenience of being mugged. Then she bellows that if anyone sees a scruffy white guy in his twenties who looks like he's been hit by a car, they should come find her so she can shove her cane right up his sorry little nostrils.
Chen appears. Susan playfully rails at her for not answering her cell phone the other night, because she called a hundred times to get Chen to call back and bail her out of a bad date. "I thought you cancelled on that guy," Chen says, confused. "I did, but he kept calling me, so I met him for drinks," Susan admits. "You caved!" giggles Chen. Oh, thanks. A judgment about self-restraint from the Spunk-Stain Queen of the ER. Chen asks how bad it was. "Let me put it this way: I almost had to fake it," Susan intones. "An orgasm?" Chen chuckles. "A seizure," Susan replies. She had called Chen to commiserate, but apparently Chen has a life of her own. "I spent the night as his place," Chen whispers conspiratorially. "Whose place?" Susan asks stupidly. "His," grins Chen. "Spent the night spent the night?" Susan gapes. Yeah. And they like like each other, too. Gallant calls Susan away, but not before she demands details later from Chen. Ew, Susan, don't go there.
Gallant presents Susan with a man and his wife. The woman -- an Alzheimer's sufferer -- had wandered around outside in the freezing cold for an hour before he knew she was gone. Susan notices over the man's shoulder that Patrick is back in the ER, so she distractedly tells them that she'll treat the woman fir mild hypothermia and excuses herself to tend to her young pal.
Patrick is fiddling with a surgeon's mask while a nurse works on his chart. "What are you doing back here?" Susan asks pleasantly. "Visiting," he replies with a huge grin. The nurse corrects him, saying that his wacky sick-boy charm can't change that he's got pneumonia. Patrick points at her and nods knowingly at Susan. It's like he's saying, "This chick's smart," or possibly, "This actress is smart because she didn't sign a contract here." Patrick complains about having to wear the mask, but Susan makes him, because she's the brassy and sassy voice of reason in these here cancer-ridden parts. He obediently dons it. "Miss me?" he beams. "No," she beams back. His smile widens.
Out in the field, Pratt is shadowing Morales and Doris. They're at a used-car lot, where a greasy old coot has frozen to death in one of the cars. Sweet. I bet they'll knock a grand off the price for that. Pratt leans in and tries to take charge, but Morales shoos him away. "This is our show," he says. "You watch." Pratt's like, "Are you in the credits?" And Morales is all, "I'd rather be recurring than sleep with Chen." And Pratt nods, "Well played, old man." And he shuts up and lets Morales and Doris do their job -- which consists more or less of pointing out that the man has no pulse, isn't breathing, and reeks. I'm sure Pratt's learned a lot from this experience. "Looks like lividity," Pratt says. "Pooling blood. This guy's dead." He turns and heads for the rig. "Where are you going?" Morales asks. "You're supposed to observe us." Pratt shrugs. "This guy's a corpse," he says. "And whatever you two do with a corpse, I don't need to see. I'm going back into the rig where it's warm." Morales wheedles that if Pratt calls a time of death, they can call the coroner and get out of there faster. "I thought this was your show," Pratt sneers. "That's more of a guideline than a rule," Morales says, caving like a cheap bottle blond in the ER Hair And Makeup Department -- oh, uh, hi, Abby. Didn't see you standing there.
A loud knock on Abby's door rouses Carter from sleep. Abby is gone; the noise persists. Groggily, he staggers to the front door, silently wondering how on Earth the peasants manage without butlers. He opens the door to see a crazy, depressed woman with a lousy blond dye job. No, not Abby. Maggie. Sally Field has gone and dyed her hair this horrible blondish-red color. She looks like a Wal-Mart greeter. "Is Abby home?" she asks tiredly. "Um, no, no, she went to work," yawns Carter. Maggie can't believe that her daughter could work in a time of crisis like this.
Abby and Weaver treat a college kid on drugs whose two oaf friends are stoned and laughing at him. He took crystal meth. PSA Boy hallucinates that he's having a heart attack, while his Afterschool Special buddies taunt him more. Kerry steps aside and lets a priest in a lab coat deliver her lines about the perils of drugs, just so we can be as literal as possible about the preaching. But these fine young men don't care. They're so stoned, they actually have bruises on their bodies from the rocks. "Ha ha, don't let them give you a baboon heart," the AS buddies snort, leaving. "Please don't let me die," whines PSA Boy. "Do I need a transplant now?" Abby snorts, "Yeah -- your brain." Man. I guess grief sucks you dry of the clever. He begs Abby not to tell his parents; just as she's staunchly not caring about any of this, a commotion outside diverts her attention.
A woman, Jana, brings in her wounded son Jared. He was hit by a car and she brought him in because she thought the ambulance wasn't coming, or something. She must've heard how busy they are at the used-car lot, diagnosing dead homeless men with Chronic Stench Syndrome. Abby yells for Weaver as they put a neck collar on Jared. "Did you see the car that hit him?" she asks Jana. "It was my car. I hit him," Jana says.
As Susan uses a stethoscope to listen to Patrick's breathing, she talks to him about how she hates rodents and other vermin. There's some jokes about how she can't keep a pet alive. Miss Lonelyhearts sure knows how to work it. "But you're a doctor," Patrick observes. "Please," she scoffs. "I'm only good with people." Then, we're forced to listen to dumb prattle about how she bought into the packaging on the box of sea monkeys and thought she was breeding a new master race of regal-blooded creatures. Somehow, this charms Patrick further. I think the knit cap he's wearing must render him deaf. Susan excuses herself.
Chen catches Susan on the rebound. Wait, hang on a sec -- did I just speak Jive? Slap my 'fro! "I thought I buffed him up good enough last time," Susan says, bending Grammar over and spanking her handprint into its ass. Chen teases that Patrick must have a crush on her. "Please. I'm old enough to be...well, I'm an older woman," Susan amends. "Here's to you, Mrs. Robinson," Chen snickers. Chuny appears and adds to the crazy non-fun. "The labs are back on your boyfriend," she grins. Susan pretends she doesn't love being the subject of someone's -- anyone's -- crush. Chen talks about the stamina young men possess, just as Susan reads Patrick's lab results and reminds us all that, yes, he's dying, and yes, his sctorum is jacked, so no, he's not going to be the most voracious of lovers. "Sorry," Chen says guiltily. "You know, sometimes I forget that they're sick." Um, okay, but how is that possible, really? When you're digging around inside someone's innards or trying to keep the blood from liberating itself from its bodily prison, I would imagine it's pretty easy to think to oneself, "Goodness. This person is sick." Susan changes the subject to whether Chen and Pratt are an item, which stops Chen in her tracks. "Do you think he thinks that?" she asks, frozen. "I don't know what would give him that idea," Susan giggles. Before Chen can resemble...er, "resent" that remark, Carter and Maggie show up looking for Abby. Susan points them to Trauma Green.
Abby's working with Weaver to save Jared. Jana sobs that she thought he was in the house, and accidentally backed over him. This is the ideal time for one's boyfriend to tote one's estranged mother to Bring Your Girlfriend's Biggest Irritants To Work Day. Abby responds the way any cool, collected, professional woman would: she drops what she's doing and walks out of Trauma Green. Weaver doesn't seem bothered. Jared, meanwhile, sits up and blows her the last juicy raspberry of his life. Carter enters and picks up where Ms. Me, Myself, And I left off.
Abby holes up in the exam room adjacent to Trauma Green, panting. It's dark. As they struggle to save Jared in Trauma Green, she stares at Maggie and then stares off into space. She's troubled. We fade to black just ever so grateful that Jared's mother is an understanding sort, and will be completely okay that It's Time For My Close-Up: How To Brood The Abby Lockhart Way takes precedence over her dying little tot.
Susan brings Patrick his lab results. She delivers the good news first: his white-cell count us up. But sadly, his metastatic lesions haven't decreased in size. Patrick looks stricken, shaking his head dazedly. "I had two more cycles," he murmurs, incredulous. Susan sadly says that his lesions should have responded to that by now. "Well, at least it's not growing," Patrick brave-little-soldiers. Susan stares at him. "Right?" he asks. Hey, sure, Patrick. Sure.
Abby returns to Trauma Green once her job would have been more or less complete. Malik and Weaver are with Jared, who's been unable to breathe on his own for almost five minutes. If he hits that mark, he's basically brain dead. Jana correctly processes this as bad news and reacts with an open-mouthed gulp. Malik calls out that it's been five minutes, and Abby methodically hooks up the respirator while fixing her face into what she imagines is pity, but which comes across more like, "Lady, you don't know from problems." Jana can't believe this is it. "I'm sorry," Weaver whispers. "Jared can't breathe without a ventilator. When you're ready, we can talk about how long you want him to be on the machines." Jana sobs that her husband didn't even have a chance to get there before they lost Jared. Weaver offers her condolences again while Abby fiddles with the machinery to avoid delivering a line that doesn't somehow revolve around her own misery. "He hates it when I leave," Jana sniffles. "He tries to stall me with hugs and kisses. He was running out to give me another hug." Abby gazes at Jana. "Would this be the wrong time to ask her if she's related to anyone at the FAA?" she thinks.
Carter orders Maggie back to the apartment. "I want to talk to Abby," she pouts. Carter points out that Abby's a little preoccupied right now, what with the work and the dying children and all. "Her brother is missing," spits Maggie. Carter correctly points out that there's not much Abby can do about that right this second, but Maggie insists that she could be accosting all the cops who show up there and begging them for special favors. "The FAA and the Coast Guard won't give information over the phone. They think I'm a terrorist," Maggie wails. I was going to rant about that being total bull, but given the fuss over small prop planes and their potentially tragic ill use, I figure it's not too far off that they'd be wary of a missing propeller jet and its insane pilot. Maggie complains that the FAA keeps referring her to the Chicago police, which makes absolutely no sense given that Eric's plane wasn't based out of Chicago and, indeed, he didn't live there. Carter capitulates that he does know a desk sergeant at the cop shop and could push him for some kind of helpful contact. Maggie prefers that they go over in person and really start to piss people off. Good plan. Carter tries to make her sit still and leave Abby alone, but Maggie gets all freaky and shrieky about it until he shoves her into a seat. "We'll deal with this," he says firmly. "Everything all right?" Weaver asks. "No," Carter says through gritted teeth. "Hey, if Abby needs to go, she should go. I was surprised to see her," Weaver calls out. Interesting that she's so generous with Abby, who just ducked out of a trauma in progress, but she wouldn't -- at the time -- be flexible with Luka. I still think that's because Luka's approach rubbed her the wrong way, but whatever. The point is, it's a little weird. I feel like Weaver should be telling Abby to act like a professional if at all possible, and refrain from flaking out on patients in front of their parents.
As Carter dashes off to Trauma Green to find Abby, Weaver asks Frank if he's seen Luka yet. "The Croat?" he asks, feigning ignorance. Although, it probably wasn't too much of a stretch. "Does he still work here?" Frank barks. "Guess not," Weaver says, erasing Luka's name from the board. Gallant pops up behind her, as he's wont to do, and notifies her that a guy whose description matches that of her mugger has been admitted to triage. Weaver sharpens her claws, polishes her fangs, and flees.
Susan tells Gallant that the lab lost Mrs. Pinkus's pap smear, so he has to swab her again. Poor Gallant looks horrified. Susan seems relieved that the Bodily Juice Storyline of the Week hasn't gone to her.
Weaver stalks up to her mugger, who takes one look at her, pales, and tries to escape. Security chases him, but just as he heads for the doors, Weaver's Cane of Justice hits the auto-close button and he runs smack into them. As he collapses, she shoots him a satisfied, pissy look. He ain't pretty no more.
Carter locates a tense Abby. "Is she manic?" Abby asks tersely. "She's upset," he says. "She's blonde," Abby says with distaste. "So are you," Carter replies. Ha. HA. And, sweet mother of the Jebus child, please can this be the turning point in her Season Nine hair woes. Carter points out that it's only been a day since the plane crash, meaning that Maggie can't have regressed in such a short time. Abby begs to differ, because she pretty much knows everything. She wrote the book on bipolar disease. She called it Nobody Knows The Trouble I Seen, and she wants Christina Ricci to play her in the movie. Carter throws up his hands at her negativism. "Then make your own assessment," he sighs. "Can't you deal with her?" Abby half-whines, half-wheedles. Brat. His help was never good enough before, but now she feels totally entitled to it. Abby needs to stop riding the gondola up The Grand Canal of Anus long enough to realize how inconsistent and inconsiderate she's being. Carter, to his credit, does remind Abby that Maggie is her mother, not his, because if it were his mother, they'd be dusting frost off their noses and burning Pratt for warmth. Carter dares to suggest that Maggie might be able to help. He doesn't say how. Help Abby cope? Help find Eric? Help find the real killer?
Jana starts freaking out, so Carter and Abby go to her. Jared's pulse is gone and his machines are rocking out to the "I Lost My Heart On A Bad TV Show" Blues. Jana kisses Jared's dying face, sobbing.
Patrick's mother -- who we'll call Frances in honor of Frances McDormand, one of the only watchable parts of Almost Famous -- is stunned to learn that her son's chemo didn't help the cancer at all. Susan notes that some cancers are wee little waifs, and some are big brutes that don't go away with radiation. Frances can't figure out why the oncologist made him endure all that for nothing. "He said 20%," Patrick points out. Frances is startled to hear him so resigned and calm. She stands up and demands all the requisite meds to keep Patrick comfortable. "I would like to take him home," she announces. Patrick points out that his white count is up, and reckons that he can beat the pneumonia. Frances blinks. Susan tries to slow them all down. Frances whines about the pain and the nausea and the vomiting, while Patrick adopts a steely expression and whispers firmly, "I can take it." Frances coos, "I know you can -- you've been so brave." Patrick basically figures he has no choice but to fight.
An annoying man screams. Screw that.
Chen wheels in a woman named Kelly who just came in on Pratt's rig. Man, I hate when Pratt's situation leads to double entendre. Kelly is pregnant and in labor. "Just get it out! I want an epidural!" she screams. Pratt leans on the back of the gurney and leers at Chen. He says he's getting the roach problem in his apartment eradicated. Chen's all, "What? No! Not the weed!" Pratt announces that he'll be needing to crash in her vagina until his apartment is livable again. Chen visibly freaks and babbles that she has "a thing" that prevents him from staying with her. "What thing?" he gapes. "A thing!" she shouts. Maybe it's called a vibrator, Pratt. Then, Chen does something truly assbaggy: she tells Pratt she has a dinner with Susan that she can't cancel because Susan has been lonely and depressed lately. All the EMTs are like, "Oh, really?" The annoying man screams, "Really? She's depressed?" Kelly's like, "Wow, what a sad sack." Kelly's baby pokes its head out long enough to say, "That chick must be pathetic." Susan should run through the hospital with a big sign that says, " Chen Wears Semen." At this point, something nasty floats out of Kelly's crotch, but we don't see what it is -- which is remarkable restraint from this show, probably only because it would be grossly inappropriate to use the NBC Vomit Comet in this situation. Pratt gives up and leaves. Kelly screams her disapproval. "I love him!" she weeps. "He thinks pregnant women are sexy!" Chen broods. Hee. She Lukas.
So. Mrs. Langston, the Alzheimer's woman, has forgotten how to speak English. Her first language, which she stopped speaking in favor of English when she was a teenager, is French. Her poor old husband never learned French because she spoke such good English; ergo, no one can speak to her. Susan rattles off a sentence in smooth French, then winces when Mrs. Langston looks at her like she's grown a second head. "It means, 'I would like a taste of melon,'" Susan explains. "The first full sentence I learned in high school, and the only one I remember." She leaves to get a translator.
Carter and Abby try to restart Jared's heart. Crack! They break a rib. Ew. Jana's like, "Oh, okay." Then she wails a little. "You don't have to be here," he says gently. "I'm not leaving him," Jana shouts. Finally, they get a weak pulse. Abby meets Jana's gaze. "Are you sure you want us to do this?" she says dubiously. "Quit asking me that! He's my son!" she shouts. Abby's all, "Right. He's not me, so he's expendable, so are you sure you want to do this?"
Abby exits Trauma Green and Maggie leaps right onto her trail. "I'm flying to Cleveland," she announces. Abby tenses and throws up her hands in that "Oh my God, I can't hear this, I am not hearing this right now" way where you can just tell someone's trying to brush away reality. She tries to escape into the bathroom, which is a brilliant plan considering that absolutely nothing stops Maggie from following her. As Abby holes up in a stall and rests her forehead against the locked door, Maggie babbles that she bought Abby a ticket, too, and talked to a Chicago cop Carter recommended, learning that all Lake Superior search-and-rescue missions are based in Cleveland. No word from Abby. "Abby!" Maggie shouts, banging on the door -- right into Abby's head. Hee. Abby jumps backward. "I'm not flying to Cleveland, Maggie," she spits. They start to argue about what Abby's done in all this, so Abby throws the door open and screams, "Eric is dead!" Maggie stiffens. "He is missing," Maggie corrects angrily. Abby contends that Eric downed the plane in a suicide attempt. Wow. Not only is her glass half-empty, but it's a shot glass, so it was never super-full in the first place. Maggie insists that Eric was fine, and on his meds; Abby ignores this, pretty sure Maggie wasn't paying the kind of close attention that Abby herself would've. "He was not suicidal," Maggie insists. "I saw him!" Abby finally blurts. "Two weeks ago he came to see me and I didn't get it then, but now I understand what it was -- he was at peace, because he had a plan." Maggie doesn't buy. "People walk away from plane crashes," Maggie insists. "He came to say goodbye," Abby says. "People walk away, Abby!" Maggie says shrilly. "It was goodbye!" Abby yells, leaving. We fade to black hoping the cloud of self-pity and doom hanging over Abby's head acid-rains on her hair and changes its color back to something more flattering.
Gallant heads up to the morgue with a sample for Dr. Upton to analyze. Why is she doing the pap analysis if she's the mortician? Whatever. He wanders over to a table to put it with the other lab work, but a sudden movement inside a body-bag shocks him into dropping it. "Sounds like you're gonna need another specimen," sing-songs Dr. Upton. Gallant's eyes widen and his mouth swings open; his expression is a fusion of amusement, disbelief, and nerves. "Uh, Dr. Upton?" he sputters. "Is that supposed to happen?" The body keeps moving, like it's punching up where the sky should be. Upton considers this. "No," she concludes. Good call, Doc! That's med-school tuition well spent.
Pratt and Doris joke around in the lounge, giggling semi-flirtatiously. Chen enters in full ice-queen mode. "Hey again," Pratt says. "Hey," Chen retorts snottily. Doris senses that someone in this room is a hosebag, so she makes a hasty exit to go restock the rig. "Do you mean steal stuff?" Chen says. I checked a few times to see if this was a light attempt at a joke, but Chen just seems rude and Doris seems genuinely irritated by the remark. Yikes. Whatever crawled up Chen's ass is definitely starting to rot. Pratt asks how Kelly's birth went. "Big boy," Chen says. "Nine pounds, six ounces." Pratt whistles. "That's a keeper," he says jovially. "And that's the most important thing, isn't it? That she keeps it?" Chen fires at him. Pratt's like, Chill, bitch, I don't know your life. "I didn't expect you to be a mom, that's all," he says. "I'm not a mom. I had a baby. That's all," Chen amends testily. Pratt condescends that he truly feels for her, but that everyone makes mistakes when they're teenagers. "I wasn't a teenager, Greg. It was two years ago," she levels. Pratt's eyebrows shoot up a notch. Chen gives him a total "See, I knew I could spook you" snotty smile. Chen gets called away, but Pratt follows her and insists that he doesn't care either way -- this is her guilt, not his judgment to which she's reacting. "At least I know how you feel," she says airily. Pratt amazingly does not tell her to get stuffed.
Susan interrupts by summoning Pratt and a nearby Morales to a curtain. She yanks it back to reveal the old dead bum from the car lot, sitting up and very much alive. "Holy crap! You pronounced this guy!" Morales sputters. "And he scared the hell out of me when he came to in the morgue," Gallant replies, amused. Susan scolds them that he had a BAL of 0.322, his blood was "practically anti-freeze," and they should've known that nobody's dead until they're warm and dead. Then she's called away by Frances, but not before she introduces Pratt to the Undead Bum and says, "He's going to give you a nice warm bath." The man brightens. "With bubbles?" he drools happily. Gallant snickers.
Frances faces Susan and announces that she doesn't want Patrick to suffer any further. "I know it's grim right now, but he seems pretty determined," Susan sighs. Frances tearfully begs Susan either to tell her something different -- that he has a real chance of beating the pneumonia or the cancer or any of it -- or help her convince Patrick to let go. Then, she weeps that Patrick only went through the two rounds of failed chemo because she was still clinging to hope, and that it's hell watching someone you love suffer simply because they love you and are doing what would make you happy. "He went through hell to get to the point where he and I finally accepted that he's going to die," Frances sniffles. "And then he met you." Susan's expression shifts. Now she's uncomfortable, and a little skeptical. "He likes you," insists Frances. "As a doctor, and as a woman." Okay, ew. Susan looks flattered, but it's funny -- she almost looks like she's thinking, "Well, he's only human, after all." Frances swears that Susan's somehow giving Patrick false hope, and begs Susan to talk him into going home. Susan's not sure she wants to play along, because how many chances does a lonely woman get to have hot hospital sex with a dying kid in a knit cap?
A sad man, Michael, wanders down the hall past a seated Maggie and toward Trauma Green. Jana meets his eye and crumples a little. "I'm very sorry," Carter tells Michael by way of a greeting. He explains that Jared is basically brain dead. Maggie watches all this intently. Jana sobs that she didn't see him behind the car, and starts to tremble; Michael holds her, still in shock himself. Maggie observes. "There must be some kind of hope," Michael whispers. Maggie watches. "You have to understand that your son is gone," Carter says. "After all, if the accident hadn't killed him, an anvil would've crushed him here." Maggie furrows her brow. "I finally understand that sometimes, you have to give up hope, even when you don't want to," she thinks to herself. "Thank God I happened to witness this remarkable exchange."
Abby exits Trauma Green and burps up some jargon. "What does that mean?" Michael asks. Maggie bites her lip. "Just like this man, I too do not understand some things," she thinks. "Thank God I happened to witness this remarkable exchange." Carter exposits that Jared will soon go into cardiac arrest, and that they might be able to save him temporarily, but not indefinitely. Maggie stares. Abby catches her eye. "I, too, have to make some hard decisions," they both think. "Thank God we happened to witness this remarkable exchange."
Carter leads Jana and Michael to Jared's bedside, while Abby approaches Maggie. "I don't know how you work here," Maggie breathes. Abby begins to apologize, but Maggie interrupts her. "I thought I could control this. I thought I was," she admits. "Maybe I was blind, or stupid, or refused to see the signs, or maybe I'm just nuts. But I'm not ready to bury him." Abby digests this as Maggie adds that the last time she saw Eric, he was alive. "That's my reality. Until someone proves otherwise, he is alive." Kicking aside the anvil that landed to her feet, Maggie asks if the El will take her to Midway. Abby tries to get in a word, but Maggie won't listen. "Eastbound track," Abby shrugs. "I'll call you from Cleveland," Maggie spits, exiting swiftly. Abby watches her narrowly avoid tripping on an anvil that bears pretty pictures of Eric and Jared, side-by-side, with the text, "Thank God she happened to witness that remarkable exchange."
Susan reenters Patrick's room and half-heartedly says, "You don't have to put yourself through this...not for her." She adds that the most he'll get is a couple of months. Patrick realizes that Susan is working on his mother's behalf to try to talk him out of fighting his pneumonia and into going home; Susan has the good grace to admit that's true. Patrick cradles his head in his hands. "What would you do?" he finally asks. Susan sits down to him on the bed, not looking at him, and tries not to answer. "I don't want to die," he chokes. She turns to him and whispers, "Then you should fight. With everything you have." Patrick gazes at her with surprise. Aw. As silly as I think the crush aspect of this is, they have a sweet chemistry.
Luka is back! He has returned! And he's writing his name on the board with an accent over the "c" in "Kovac." God, he makes diacritical marks look sexy. "Damn, looks like I just lost fifty bucks," Frank gripes. "Then you shouldn't gamble," Luka replies breezily. Now it's Gallant's turn to act stunned to see Luka, but he quickly grabs him for a case in triage. It seems that PSA Boy is seizing. Luka asks for a temperature reading, because high fevers can cause seizures; sure enough, he's running a 107.3 temperature. Suddenly, Luka is seized with a powerful urge to do something that would look really dramatic in a promo for the show. He disconnects PSA Boy's equipment and scoops him up, carrying him outside like Prince Charming sweeping Cinderella across the threshold after she got really, really trashed at their wedding reception. Everyone chases him so that the promo shot will look way cooler. Outside, Luka dumps PSA Boy into a pile of snow and douses him with warm saline. "He's seizing again!" shouts Chuny. "No, he's shivering," Luka says. Chuny skeptically announces that she's going to fetch Weaver.
In Trauma Green, Jared is still dying. Abby and Carter are there. Michael and Jana tearfully decide not to have them shock Jared's heart. Abby robotically disconnects the ventilator so that Jared can die. "I love you, baby," Jana says. "I love you, sweetie, so much." The one thing that would make this scene more touching would be a cell-phone ringtone, so thank God Abby disobeys ER rules and uses hers in the trauma room. She answers her phone and walks into the room. No one chides her for breaking a long-held rule that's been enforced on everyone else, but never on her. That's the bonus of being The Star of the World.
Abby is on the phone with the FAA. Carter watches her as Jared flatlines, then enters the room as she hangs up the phone. "It's intact," she chokes. "Tied down in a field outside of Sault Saint Marie." She pauses. "He's alive," she says, her eyes wet and her face smiling for the first time in a long time. "And he cared enough to tie down the plane!" she gushes. So he's not manic, or whatever. Maybe. Okay. Carter smiles and Abby kisses him on the lips. "I guess Maggie was right," he says. Abby breaks away. "God," she breathes. "I'll be right back."
Abby yells for Maggie and runs to the El station, sneaking under the turnstile. "Mom!" she shouts. Maggie turns. We fade to black thinking yet again that this show has chosen really, really strange act-outs throughout the entire season.
PSA Boy is still out in the snow. Weaver bursts out and rattles off all the reasons that Luka's behavior is too risky. But his fever goes down. "I saved his brain, heart, kidneys, liver," Luka says, looking satisfied with himself. "Yeah, well I guess it's a good thing you decided to finally come in," Kerry snorts, splitting her infinitive with gusto while Luka looks all puffed up and proud about his escapade.
Abby and Maggie hunch over a map looking for Sault Saint Marie. Abby finally admits that Maggie was right; for her part, Maggie gives Abby credit for understanding that the call could've easily gone the other way. "And in his mind, it wouldn't have been selfish. It would have been...a whole lot of other things. He doesn't want to be a burden," Maggie explains. "He's not," Abby avers. Maggie reminds her that they have to make sure Eric understands that. She suggests trying to email him, or trying to go to Sault Saint Marie, or hiring a PI to find him, because Eric's cancelled his cell phone. But Abby smiles serenely and quite calmly explains that it's their turn to sit around and wait for him to be ready to contact them. "It's really hard, but you have to," she says softly. "Just keep out of our minds all the horrible things that might be happening ot him, and you do that for a week, or a month, or maybe a year." Maggie understands. "And then someday he'll show up, and we'll drop everything and go to him," she says sadly. "Or, we get the other phone call," Abby offers. Maggie stares at the table. Abby smiles with way too much self-satisfaction for my taste and says, "Welcome to the outside of the disease." It's almost like she's taking pleasure in Maggie's having to go through what she put Abby and Eric through. Weird and unsympathetic acting choice there.
Chen teases Pratt about the Undead Bum, and they both laugh, and then launch into simultaneous apologies. Chen defers to Pratt. "I was a little judgmental," he allows. "I feel like people judge me all the time, and I hate it, so if I did that, I'm sorry. Especially because I like you, and respect you." Chen smiles. "Want to see a picture of him?" she offers quietly. Pratt grins. She scoops a photo of little Michael out of her pocket, and oh my, he is absolutely adorable. Chen shares that she loves getting the letters, but at the same time, it's wrenching. "He's black," Pratt says, surprised. "Half," she corrects. "Okay, Asian-African-American," laughs Pratt. "Great combination. He's beautiful." Just then, Harms shows up, dressed to the nines and looking very much like she'd enjoy some sausage to go with her mash. "Almost ready?" she coos at Pratt. Chen's face falls. Pratt whirls and sputters that she said she had plans with Susan. "Yeah," she spits. "I'm just taking the paramedics out, I told Harms and Morales I'd buy them dinner," he insists. "I only see Harms," Chen snots. Pratt invites Chen to come, but she refuses coldly and disappears into the lounge. Pratt lets her go, presumably because she's totally inaccessible and horrible.
"Ugh!" Chen scowls in the lounge. Susan gets the lowdown on Pratt and Harms, which Chen calls a date even though it quite possibly isn't. "It's my own fault," Chen mourns. "You're forgetting the #1 rule of dating: Men are scum," Susan grins.
Outside, Pratt rants to Carter that women don't know what they want -- first it's a commitment, but when they get one, they suddenly want freedom, so when you give them that, they get jealous, and women are bitches and hos, and they're crazy, but God Almighty, they have breasts, and so that makes it all okay. Or something. "Women can be hard to figure out sometimes," Carter says absently. "Sometimes?" Pratt snorts. He then posits that homosexuals have it the best. Carter jerks his head up, bemused. "Two guys living together: toilet seat's always up, channel's always on ESPN. You can drink beers in bed, leave your clothes on the floor...I'm telling you, gay cats got it good!" Pratt says, in quite an impassioned lather at this point. Carter stares at him, unsure whether Pratt is an idiot, a genius, or trying to get a date with him. "Why are you telling me this?" he asks, tiredly. "I have no idea!" Pratt announces.
Luka approaches. "I thought you were on vacation," he tells Carter. "I thought you quit," Carter retorts. Luka tries to fob off a patient, but Carter explains that he was never working. He leaves. Weaver, on her way out, gifts Luka with a double-shift for showing up late for his initial shift. "Whatever," he grumbles. Susan greets Luka pleasantly. "Why is there a sumo wrestler in One?" he booms. "See, it's like you never left!" she giggles.
And suddenly, we're at home with Weaver for a scene that was -- if I read my spoilers correctly -- supposed to fall into an earlier episode, but got tacked on here, presumably because TPTB realized that there's a world of viewers outside their own anuses, and those viewers like to see story threads actually addressed, rather than dropped like so many pairs of trousers. Kerry is curled up on the couch reading a book. Sandy pads over to her and kisses her head, rubbing her shoulders. "Takeout should be here any minutes now," she smiles. She teases Kerry for re-reading Mansfield Park yet again. "Why read, man, when you've got TV?" Sandy sighs happily, clicking on the television set. I'm sure this is here for the purpose of showing us their differences, so that we'll buy it when they split up, which I'm assuming they'll do rather than keep up the half-assed charade and have Lisa Vidal show up for two minutes every ten episodes or whatever. I don't think they're implying that Sandy is déclassé or anything -- just different from Kerry. For her part, Kerry chews on her lip, then sets aside her book and turns off the TV set. "I don't want to wait," she confesses. "I think that we should try again." Surprised, Sandy gapes a bit and sets down her wine glass. I'm surprised TPTB didn't go the whole hog and make it a Busch Light. "Do you feel like something's missing here, Kerry?" she asks. "Yes, yes," Kerry replies emotionally. Sandy considers this. "Okay, well, are you sure you're ready?" she says, caringly but certainly without excitement. Kerry gulps and reveals that she'd hoped Sandy would try getting pregnant this time around. "Me?" Sandy's jaw drops with distaste. "Kerry, honey, listen, you know what I do. I'm the roofman. I can't swing a Halligan when I'm six months pregnant!" Kerry desperately suggests that Sandy could take a leave of absence, and that it makes total sense because Sandy's younger and the odds are better. Kerry even tries to woo her with tales of how amazing it feels to have a Weavus inside, but Sandy's not buying it -- she's not wired that way, she doesn't want to experience pregnancy. A tear trickles down Kerry's cheek. Sandy leans in and strokes Kerry's face. "Listen, we're being totally honest here," Sandy whispers. "I can't. I'm sorry, but I can't." Kerry wheedles pathetically, "Not even for me?" Sandy backs away. "That's not fair," she says. "None of this is fair, Sandy," Kerry says, wiping her eyes. "None of it is fair." Sandy makes a thin excuse to escape, leaving Kerry alone and sad on the couch.
Carter finds Abby on the roof, sitting and smoking. She promptly stubs out the cigarette. "Don't put it out on my account," he says. She insists that she only wanted half. "Nobody smokes half a cigarette," Carter says. Actually, that's not true. The security guard at my old dorm used to do that -- she'd go out and smoke half, then put it out and put it back in the box for later. That way, she could get a nic fix often, but she didn't need to be outside for the time it takes to smoke a whole cigarette. Ah, Marlene. How I miss your smoke-ravaged voice. Abby insists that her restraint stems from a desire to quit smoking. "Back to that, are we?" he brats. Abby apologizes for ditching him. "No problem. You had bigger concerns," Carter says, clearly hurt. "Yeah, like ruining your vacation," she says. "Run away, Carter. Run as fast as you can." She's all glib about it. She sucks.
Carter sits to Abby and asks if she needs to hole up at his place while Maggie's in town. "Did you hear what I said about running away?" she asks. "I block out about half of what you say," he cracks. "Only half?" she grins. "The negative half," he says, suddenly serious. How pathetic. Abby admits that she is fairly negative. Wow. There's a shocking revelation for you. , she's going to admit she's not a real blonde. "It's hard not to be [negative] when you attract misery everywhere you go," Abby says blithely. "I'm like a magnet for it, and you shouldn't have to deal with this." Carter grunts that Abby's starting to piss him off. She stands. "Maybe you should just cut your losses," she says, acting like she's offering him a great favor by giving him a simple exit. "Eric is alive!" Carter booms, suggesting that she take two seconds away from feeling sorry for herself to focus on that miracle. Abby says she did do that -- she hugged Carter, then she chased down her loony mother and never came back to thank Carter for traveling all night and spending his off day chasing her around County. Then she babbles that her life will always and forever be on hold, and that Carter shouldn't want to be on hold for her. What bullshit. Carter tells her to suck it up and change that. "I have no choice," Little Miss Victim says. "You do." Ugh. Shut up, Abby. Shut up, shut up, shut up. Someone needs to slap her. Where's Romano? Carter rolls his eyes. "Oh, right, your life sucks, now and forever, there's no one you can love..." he mocks her. "You don't want me to love you!" she insists. Carter would prefer to make up his own mind. "What do you want?" she asks. "I want you to stop being afraid. I want you to stop being so careful. I want to marry you!" he shouts. Carter? The dry cleaner called. Your straitjacket is ready. Taken aback, Abby snipes, "Oh, you're proposing?" She's mocking him. "You're crazy," she adds. "Well, then I'll fit right in!" he shouts, exasperated. Then they swap amused glances. Oh, please make it stop. Please.