Previously on Exit, Romano, the one-armed wonder faced off against his old nemesis, Chopper; the myoelectric Utah arm was no match for several flaming tons of twisted steel, and so Romano was dispatched to the big landing pad in the sky. Neela, the intellectual one, and Abby Of The Interpersonal Skills (but, since when?) acknowledged one another's talents and agreed to help each other. Sam's strange son Alex befriended Luka, to Sam's distaste. She doesn't want any shenanigans wherein Alex tries to bring them together.
This episode was originally called "Missing," and then it became "Identity Crisis"; the showrunners must, however, have realized that was too apt a metastatement, because they switched back to "Missing" at the last minute -- which, come to think of it, also accurately describes where some longtime viewers are.
We start the hour in Alex's room. Hanging from the wall or the lamp or whatever is the x-ray Luka took of Alex's skull. There are a few plastic sword-type things hanging from the wall. It's a very basic boy's room; nothing in here to inspire any alarm, because Luka hasn't yet posed for the poster that will later hang above Alex's bed with a big heart drawn around his face. Sam quietly enters the room, a curly-haired shrub today. Since her debut episode, the show has apparently decided she's too poor to afford a flat-iron. "Hey," she says with a loving smile, patting Alex's head. "Hey, buddy, wake up." Alex rolls over unhappily and grunts that it's a late day today. "Not for me," she chirps. "I've got to get to work. Come on!" She yanks off his covers, and it reveals that he's wrapped himself up in his sheet like a mummy. "Rise from the dead, King Tut," she laughs, leaving. Alex turns back onto his side and pouts.
Abby, Neela, and Lester sit at the front desk, each in front of a laptop. Abby complains about a test question that she thinks is too hard. Well, that's why they're tests, and that's why you study. They're not going to ask you for your shoe size. "What number are you on?" Lester asks. "Forty-one. You?" Abby replies. "Fifty," he says. Neela hits return with a grand flourish and steps back, satisfied. Abby looks both wryly amused and a bit put-out that Neela is already finished. You know, when this arc was first spoiled, a lot of people were positive it was going to be an "Abby is a perfect little med student" story, and I'm glad the show hasn't gone that way -- but it's gone so far in the opposite direction that it's almost too much. Like, I'm wondering why Abby's a med student at all, or how she got into med school in the first place. Is the message that becoming an emotionally deprived nurse with a bad dye job will kill your brain cells?
Frank dumps a bunch of stuff on Abby's plate, but she insists that her nursing shift hasn't started yet, and strains to get through the rest of her test. Lester finishes and celebrates with a happy shout; if he's not careful, Abby's going to burn off his beard with acid. "Pompe, dupuytrer...these are diseases?" she frets. "That's a hard one," Neela says. Susan and Weaver sail into Reception. "You guys aren't Googling each other again, are you?" Susan teases. Did I actually just hear that? Has Susan just discovered the internet? she's going to drawl, "I just sent a message to the web on the email!" She really needs to get out -- of the handicapped shagroom -- more. Weaver spits, "Save it for study hall." She orders Abby to start her shift. "Almost done," Abby says desperately. She rushes to finish, and then takes on the case of one Mr. Benitez, who suffers from shortness of breath and needs his vitals taken.
Gallant breezes in, and Frank gives him the message that Valerie called. Susan's intrigued that Gallant might be getting some ass. Pratt just seems dumbfounded, because he figured he'd get the first poke at every hot young thing to come through town. "Her flight lands at 3:10 and she can't wait to see you," Frank says as everyone eavesdrops. Gallant is startled. "What? She's my sister!" he says. Everyone exhales as if the fate of the city heretofore hung on the guarantee of his celibacy. "Younger or older?" Susan asks. "We're twins," Gallant says with a big grin. Aw. Susan asks what she looks like. "I don't know -- picture me in a dress," Gallant offers. Pratt's grossed out. Lester, however, feels that he can add to the conversation by explaining that he once wore fishnets and stilettos when he was in high school. I hope he had the beard back then. And that it was Circus Freak High. "It was for a musical," he says. Everyone sort of tries to ignore this, because no one knows what to make of Lester and they would rather sweep him under the rug the way this show does with most things. "Have you ever shaved your legs? It feels funny," Lester adds. The camera swings around to frame Neela, Gallant, and Pratt standing at the desk, all wondering why Romano was apparently the character crowding the canvas.
Frank announces that Romano's memorial is today. So yet again, this show robs us of what might've been an emotionally impactful moment. They wrote that character for several seasons, and then killed him and denied us a chance to either cheer or grieve when his co-workers found out what a shocking end Romano met. If you create characters you expect us to invest in and follow, then we want to experience things with them, and that includes the tragic death of a controversial co-worker. And if the show insists on killing that character, it needs to follow through on that dramatic act and not just do it as a tossed-off afterthought, a grisly whim from Emmy-grubbing producers who know that special effects are their only shot at statuettes anymore. This show doesn't have a clue. I complain a lot about the little things I don't like, but honestly, those things would be bearable if I didn't think TPTB blew its bigger chances and ran the show like a serial and not a string of nothing hours between sweeps stunts. "Poor man," Neela says of Romano's fate. Wow, one of the ones who never even knew the endearingly shitty side of the asscoin is still the most gracious person on staff. Pratt makes a crack to the effect that Romano must've wronged a helicopter in another life, and nobody laughs. "What, would you tell these people about karma?" he protests, pointing at Neela. "If you're so concerned about karma, I'd stop making jokes like that," Neela grins. Good for her. ["Seriously. Too soon." -- Wing Chun] Gallant laughs at this, too. Susan announces that Elizabeth has organized a memorial at the chapel that afternoon. "Somebody should go," she sighs. Everyone scatters. "Come on, guys. We'll draw straws!" Oh my God. They're all hateful. If a co-worker I didn't like died, and on the job -- and if, as with Susan, it was a horrific way in which I thought I'd lost my own boyfriend -- I would still be sad and affected and interested in memorializing the person. Right now I absolutely loathe all these selfish pricks. Hate Romano? Fine. But act like a normal person -- I don't think normal people would be like, "Whatever, it's just awesome he's gone." End rant, I hope. Well, okay, that's not really likely, I admit it. Sorry. I tried.
Sam and Alex walk through the snowy ambulance bay and encounter Elizabeth, clad in a jaunty cap and wool coat, standing morosely in front of a beautiful display of flowers outside the hospital. Sam exposits for her loudly curious son that it's a memorial for the people who died in the accident. Elizabeth sadly looks down at two photos lying atop the blossoms: one black and white shot of Romano staring at the camera, and one color photo of her and Robert in their surgical caps, grinning merrily. We smash to the credits thankful that at least one person in this hospital has a heart, even if it is the one who's historically the biggest crab.
The new credits: Noah Wyle, Maura Tierney, Mekhi Phifer (his agent still gives good head, I see), Goran Visnjic, Sherry Stringfield (her agent still gives crap head, I see), Ming-Na (see: Sherry's agent), Sharif Atkins, Parminder Nagra, Linda Cardellini, "and Laura Innes," which I guess is some kind of enormous distinction, but if that's true, then why did Paul McCrane own it before now? Not to demean him, because I think he's a great actor, but in the pecking order -- longevity, principality -- he's hardly ahead of half those people.
The paramedics wheel in a seventeen-year-old blonde named Johanna who was hurt in a car accident. She groggily asks after her boyfriend Thomas, who comes in behind her: he's also seventeen, he has a bullet wound in his chest, and a stab wound in his right flank. They're shipped off to the trauma rooms. Elizabeth detains Weaver and awkwardly asks her to speak at the memorial service for Romano. "You and Robert had a long history," she allows. "Complicated, I know." Weaver fusses with her jacket so that she can buy enough time to come up with a good reason why she could avoid being a big person. "I'll certainly try to be there," she says noncommittally. Elizabeth sees through this transparent sentence, and pointedly suggests that someone from the ER should show some respect, seeing as he did end his life as its chief. Weaver ducks this dart; in my fantasies, it hits Chris Chulack in the unmentionables. So, his nuts. "We'll try to honor that," Weaver says, and on some level I think she's replying to me.
Thomas is in Trauma Green with Lester, Abby, and Susan. Abby rattles off a bunch of things that she thinks might be wrong, and Susan grins, "I can guess who aced that test." Lester prickles that they haven't scored them yet, and then explains that they agreed to swap papers to avoid cheating. "I don't cheat!" Abby insists. "I do," Lester teases. Weaver enters and tries to pretend she had the brainstorm that someone from the ER should speak at Romano's memorial. "Yeah, you'd be great," Susan says flatly without looking up. Shut up, Susan. Go befriend a hopeless patient. Weaver wraps the buck in pretty Christmas wrap, and hurls it at Susan, oh-so-casually suggesting that she would be a perfect choice, and then excusing her from the trauma in favor of running the board. As Susan storms out, annoyed, Weaver calls out, "And you might want to start preparing some remarks!" Susan rolls her eyes, and her face completely fills the camera while she walks past it. All the better to flip you off, my dear.
Lying on his table, Thomas wonders if Johanna is okay. Abby points out that she's door, and he turns to look, muttering, "We shouldn't have been there." In Trauma Yellow, meanwhile, Johanna is explaining to Luka and Neela that she was waiting in the car for Thomas when she heard shots and he came running toward her, and they sped away. Where did the car accident come in? I guess it's like the old sages of the world always said: make your useless girlfriend drive if you've been shot, or else you're going to crash, dickrod.
Suddenly, Alex is visible, just able to watch through the windows as Luka works. He practically has hearts in his eyes. "Looks like you have a fan," Neela says to Luka. He glances at Alex and then shakes his head as he walks into Trauma Yellow. Alex follows along outside. "Lovely breath sounds," Lester suddenly says. He's talking about Thomas's lungs, but it's like he's making small talk: "Lovely breath sounds! Anyone for tennis?" "I dare say, old bean, but they're forecasting coughing this afternoon with a thirty percent chance of mucus." Weaver sends Thomas up to CT and tells Luka to page her if he needs her to cover anything. "Robert was supposed to be on today," she explains, exiting with Johanna. Alex watches them leave. Abby pauses to exposit that she's grading Lester's paper, he's doing Neela's, and Neela is scoring Abby's. Abby seems almost unhappy with this arrangement, as if she doesn't want Neela to see it if she makes a mistake.
As Luka goes back into Trauma Yellow, where Gallant and Neela wait, Sam trucks down the hallway with a bead on her son. She grabs him and drags him away as he fidgets unhappily and tries to look back at Luka. He stares and absently asks what Gallant wants to do with Johanna. He says he wants a head CT and an Abdominal Hoo-Ha. "You sure?" Luka asks, snapping back to attention. "With the extensive head lac and possibility of intraperitoneal injuries..." Gallant begins. "ARE YOU SURE?" Luka booms. Startled, Gallant insists that even though Luka hates extra tests, he's pretty sure these are important. "Good, I completely agree," Luka says. Gallant's surprised, but smiles at the swerve. Luka leaves, delighted that he's still got the curveball after all these years of being humorless.
Neela's phone rings. She apologetically admits that she forgot to turn it off, and then excuses herself to take the call, which is from London. As Neela positions herself in the foreground and begins speaking in irritated tones to her family, Johanna faintly asks what language that is. "Punjabi. She's Indian," Gallant says. Since I know this girls turns out to be a sheltered Amish girl, I'll forgive the fact that she's kind of stupid, but in general I get really, really sick of the whole "what IS that crazy ethnicity?" game people play with Neela. India's a big fucking country. Lots of people. Its nationals know how to travel. Figure it out. Neela grows increasingly angry on the phone until she shouts out in English, "No! I said I can't come!" She hangs up petulantly and turns back toward a startled Abby and Gallant.
Sam plops Alex down at Reception and orders him to study for a math test. "Tough love, huh?" Susan smiles at Alex. He nods grimly. And then he begins pocketing random things from the area: an inhaler, some scissors, etc. In the background, Luka asks Frank to post a list of the belongings he's selling before going back to Africa in January. He's selling eighty-dollar Bose speakers -- yeah, right; one of those Bose clock radios is, like, four hundred bucks -- and the famous fish tank, which he's unloading for two hundred dollars. He's also selling a forty-two-inch plasma screen. "Why would you get rid of that?" Frank asks. "The Congo isn't exactly HD-ready," Luka chuckles. So? What's he going to watch America's Top Model on when he gets home? Luka spies Alex out of the corner of his eye and asks if school got canceled. "It starts late," Alex says. "The teachers need to talk about us." Luka smiles at him, but he notices that Alex is frowning, and so he asks what's wrong. "We're wrestling in Gym today. I hate wrestlng," Alex complains. More importantly, he's like, ten. Do they let ten-year-olds wrestle? What happened to kickball? "Never much cared for Gym class myself," Frank says gruffly, passing by and attempting to be friendly. "What a shocker," Alex brats. Ooh, you obnoxious little shit. Luka snickers. Don't encourage him, Luka. Frank may be a racist scumlicker some of the time, but kids should respect their elders. A nurse calls Luka into sutures to cast a fractured ankle, and Alex says he wants to come. "No," Luka scolds him.
Deleted scene alert: We suddenly cut straight into that patient's room, and he's complaining that there's nothing wrong with "that kid's arm." We see that Alex is perched on a bed, and Luka is drawing the curtain, basically telling Joe Fracture to mind his own broken bones. This feels like a really abrupt jump cut, mostly because Luka now sits down to put a fake cast or splint of some kind onto Alex's arm. So we've leapt from "Go away" to "Hey, why don't I save you from Gym class by pretending you're hurt?" The hell? I hate when this show has me beating my head against the coffee table. Not least because of the unsightly marks it leaves. On the coffee table. Alex whines that there's a Gym class bully named Ernie Kendrick, and that they call him Osama, and that he hits harder than anyone. "If your mom sees this, we're both dead," Luka warns him. Alex promises to wait unobtrusively in the lounge until the bus arrives to pick him up. "So you're going back to Africa?" Alex asks. Luka nods. "How long?" he asks. "Not sure," Luka says. They go back and forth similarly until Alex has established that Luka goes there to be a doctor. "Isn't it really gross? Aren't there a lot of sick people there?" Alex asks. "That's why they need doctors," Luka replies. Alex asks if Luka has been there before. Except he JUST asked if Luka was going BACK to Africa, so that seems like a really stupid line. Alex asks eagerly if Luka has seen a lion or a hyena, and Luka amusedly shakes his head. "Sounds like Africa kinda sucks," Alex observes.
Pratt enters to ask Luka to sign off on a patient. "I thought you weren't presenting to me," Luka says. "I got over it," Pratt says bleakly. What? Oh, come ON. I give. I give! They make us sit through these scenes, and then they brush them off with, "Well, I got over it." This is it. I'm officially rankled. Also, Pratt suddenly has hair. Apparently he got tired of spending all that cash on skull wax. He presents a seventy-two-year-old man with a couch and a fever, and he's looking to send him home with some medicine. Luka decides that this is one of those times when they shouldn't skimp on the testing, and chides Pratt for not knowing this. Before Pratt can respond, Sam trucks through the ER with some paramedics and a wailing man on a gurney who severed four fingers when he tried cutting through ice with a chainsaw. Alex -- who, of course, has trotted out from his hiding place to stare -- is enthralled. "AAAAAAHHHHHH," offers up Mr. Hand. The paramedic proudly produces the four fingers, preserved on ice. "Big Slurpee special!" he grins.
Amid all this, Pratt notices that Alex has a cast on his arm and asks what's up with that. "My mom twisted it when she was drunk," he lies. And that's just not funny, and yet instead of reprimanding him for being a poisonous little terror, simply Luka grabs Alex, yanks the hood of his jacket over his head, and shoves him playfully and with exasperation off toward the lounge. Yanking the hood is evidently Luka's answer for everything, and yes, I do realize exactly how that sounds.
In Trauma Green, they page the replantation team to attach the fingers. Alex, of course, didn't go back to the lounge, and is watching. He is a freak. I'm over twice his age and I can't even watch someone stub a toe.
Johanna explains to a listening Neela that she just wanted to try some pot. "You went to the South side to score drugs?" Neela asks. Johanna shrugs that she heard that was the place, and swiftly changes the subject to Neela by asking if she's from India. Well done, Johanna. Was it the "She's Indian" that helped you guess? "My family's in London now," Neela nods. "Chicago's as far as I've ever gotten," Johanna says sadly. We then learn that she and Thomas have dated for a year, but that they grew up together down the road from each other in Arcola.
Gallant wheels in Thomas and brightly announces that he got very lucky: the bullet collapsed his lung but didn't hurt anything else, but he does have a broken leg. "You can handle that," Johanna says, kind of coldly, actually. But they're going to admit Thomas, which means calling their parents, which wigs Johanna out because she's as subtle as a purple elephant with the words "HELLO I AM HERE" scrawled on it in gold paint. Neela offers to phone their parents, but Johanna interjects that neither of their families has a phone. Thomas suggests calling their neighbors. "No, Thomas," snaps Johanna. He wants her to talk to their parents, and she resists, and neither wants to admit why. Gallant and Neela just swap confused looks as Thomas promises to give them their neighbor's phone number.
Abby tells Elizabeth and Susan that the hand surgeon is en route. Elizabeth asks if they're going to the service later for Romano. "Uh, yeah," Susan lies. "Sure," Abby fibs. "JERKS," I condemn. Susan asks if Romano had any family, and Elizabeth admits that she's not aware of any. Suddenly, she notices a bad penny lying around, heads side up, and correctly identifies it as Alex. "Should you be here?" they ask. Sam bustles into the room. "No, bye," Alex chokes, bolting. Sam apologizes for his being in the way, but seems oddly disinclined actually to do anything about it, like tie him to a tree or glue him to the Lounge couches -- because apparently she has some kind of moral objection to babysitters. Elizabeth shrugs that Alex was not a bother. "He's curious," Susan says. Behind her, Abby rattles off some symptoms to herself, and Elizabeth -- mistakenly thinking that Abby is talking about an actual patient -- asks a question. This helps clarify things for Abby, who gasps, "Aortic dissection!" and groans. Apparently, this was a question on her test that she whiffed, and she admits that she thinks she blew it.
The hand surgeon bursts in, all sunshine and leeches, and announces that they're going to save this hand. "We only recovered three fingers," he says. Startled, Susan says, "No, there are..." and picks up the jar. "Three," she finishes, confused. "There were four a minute ago." Sam blanches as the hand surgeon facetiously suggests that a finger thief made off with the middle digit, and hurriedly excuses herself from the trauma room. She knows a Son of Sam statement when she sees one.
"Alex!" she shouts after her running child. "Get the hell back here!" We fade to black hoping she charges him right out of town.
When we return from the break, Sam has corralled the brat and is forcing him to empty his backpack in the lounge. He's dallying. "Don't screw around," she spits. "Where is it?" Alex pretends he doesn't know what she means. "The paramedics brought in a guy with four viable fingers, three of which are still sitting on ice," she rants. "Maybe the dog ate it," Alex snots. Well. I know Sam's hair looks rough today, but that seems a little harsh. Sam loses her patience. "Which finger did you lose?" he asks. She flips him off. "Ring any bells?" she sasses. Alex frowns dramatically and whines that he has to catch his bus. Sam spies something in his backpack; I can't figure out what, but whatever it is, he apparently stole it. "Don't I always get you whatever I can?" she wheedles. Alex nods. "Then why do you steal stuff?" she asks. "Come on, Alex, this is serious. Where is it?" Alex still insists that he doesn't know, and suddenly Sam notices that his right hand is tucked firmly into his pocket. She demands to see it.
Cut to the gang at the front desk turning every trash can inside out to try to find the missing finger. Susan is pretending that she thinks Abby should speak at Romano's service because it would be touching to have a nurse eulogize him. Mushrooms immediately grow out of her pores, so full of fertilizer is she. Abby's like, "Fuck THAT noise," and calls shenanigans on that whole idea. As far as I'm concerned, they're both jerks. Sam interrupts the moment by dragging Alex down the hall and screaming for Luka. "Tell me you did NOT put a splint on my kid's arm!" she shouts. Luka coughs and says, "Sorry, we're busy trying to find a man's finger." Hee. Nice try. "It's missing because instead of studying, he's off with you playing doctor," Sam rails. "WHAT?" Frank blurts. "Not like that," Sam snaps. Ha, but also, does she not see that the problem is that Luka is not her child's keeper, and is not responsible for the fact that Alex won't go the hell away? Sam's completely dumping all the blame on other people, when really, she has no control over her kid and no plan for caring for him other than making him sit in the middle of the ER and try to learn his times tables. Luka sputters that he was just trying to help. "What, he told you his Osama Kendrick, Evil Wrestler story? Please, he made it up," Sam snorts. "He makes a lot of stuff up." Frankly, I'm done with both of them. Luka apologizes and offers to remove the splint, but Sam orders him to stay away. Susan pipes up that, hello, they still need to find this man's finger. Luka crouches down and looks soulfully into Alex's eyes. "It's in the refrigerator in the lounge," Alex admits. "I put it in there because I know it's supposed to stay cold." Okay, that's so fucked up. Not just that he stole it, but that he totally almost ruined someone's hand. If it can't be reattached, they should stitch it to Alex's forehead for eternity as a reminder -- a 24/7 rude salute to what a horrible little monster he is. This makes me not care how misunderstood he feels in his life. Susan bolts after the digit as Sam practically stomps her foot and demands to know why Luka is more popular than she is, even though she, like, totally gives hummers under the bleachers. "He asked nicer," Alex says smugly. She grabs him roughly and shoves him outside to catch the bus. Luka and Frank look kind of lost amid this. "You're a real Mr. Rogers, you know that?" Frank cracks.
Pratt comes in with a young Jane Doe, five or six years of age, who's hypothermic and was found in the bushes at Lincoln Park. He and Haleh and the medic wheel her into Trauma Yellow and scream for warm saline and blankets to try to save her. Abby gets ready to nurse her way through this one until Pratt orders her to intubate. "I'm not on my med-student rotation," she says. "Okay, so you're a nurse who intubates," he says. She meets his glance for silent confirmation, and then confidently takes over and performs a very competent intubation. I guess we're supposed to think that she's great in the moment of a trauma and not as strong with written stuff, or that her med-student mantle makes her second-guess herself too much. Eh, whatever. The little girl has no ID or anything in her pockets, nor any identifying marks. The police are calling Missing Persons. "Somebody's got to be looking for her," Abby reasons.
Neela hangs up with Johanna's and Thomas's neighbor. "Is someone coming?" Gallant asks. "He wasn't sure how soon they'd be able to hire a car," Neela replies, sort of taken aback by that. Gallant asks with concern what her call was about, and she sighs that her sister in Chandigarh had a baby. Delighted, Gallant congratulates her on being an aunt, but she's depressed because her parents are trying to pressure her into going over with them for the Sikh naming ritual, and she doesn't want to take two weeks off from work to go -- plus, realistically, she can't, and she wishes they'd lay off a bit. "Guilt calls," she concludes. "It's just their way of keeping me close." Gallant posits that maybe it's just nice to know she's loved. "And at times, suffocating," Neela says, explaining that her parents run a restaurant in Southall -- a traditionally Indian area of London -- and that she's the first person in the family to expand her horizons to the U.S. "On the one hand, they're very proud; on the other, it scares the hell out of them," she says.
So of course, Neela goes right into Johanna and Thomas's room and trips right over a burgeoning parallel. She learns that they're Amish teenagers who are on rumspringa -- a time after age sixteen when they can leave their parents and spread their wings, and do whatever they like before deciding whether the Amish life is for them. "A little dose of teen rebellion so you won't be tempted later," Neela understands. Thomas smiles that it makes you a better Amish. Johanna smiles, too, but a bit more distantly. Three guesses as to which one's going home.
Jane Doe is crashing in Trauma Yellow as the team tries to boost her body temperature. The cop comes back in and tells them that there are no missing-persons reports from the last three days that match her description. Haleh suggests checking another state, and Abby suggests Amber Alert. "How's she doing?" the cop asks. "She's still here," Pratt says. Luka yells for more blankets.
Elizabeth stands outside the chapel -- at least, I think so -- to a plate of cookies and a large color glossy of Romano with his beard. Which means he inexplicably found time in all his recent bitterness to pose for a headshot, because he really wanted to commemorate this time in his life. Makes sense. Pass the bourbon. One woman is there smiling uncomfortably; some have suggested it's Janet Upton, but I can't tell. Suddenly, Lester and Some Other Guy round the corner giggling, stop to pocket a bunch of cookies, and take off again. Lester at least offers Elizabeth an uncomfortable smile, but the effect is the same: they stink.
The hot social worker who isn't Adele is in Trauma Yellow. Apparently, his name is Ken, and wow, does he look edible in that tight black shirt. This show at least does one thing right: it triggers my salivary glands. Abby snaps pictures of Jane Doe as she laments that someone might have thrown this little girl away. "Maybe her parents were injured," Ken suggests. Abby throws back a bitter response about how it's possible Jane got dumped around to too many foster homes until her case worker completely lost track of her whereabouts and she slipped through the cracks. Ken can't deny that it's a possibility. Abby tells him to check the CPS foster files in the federal database. Ken's like, "Hi, I have a job, and so do you, and they're not the same." He says he doesn't have access to photographs of those kids. "Ken, come on, you're a smart guy. Get access!" Abby protests. Ken would rather rule out the likelier leads: abduction, abandonment, or that she's a runaway. "She's SIX YEARS OLD," Abby explodes, frustrated, as if being six means you can't get pissed off enough that Mom fed you asparagus to walk out the front door and get yourself lost. Ken's touched enough to promise that he'll get her fingerprints and try to pull some strings at CPS. Abby thanks him. She should shag him. What? She should. We fade to black as Abby stares worriedly at Jane Doe before donning and tightly fastening her cloak of abandonment issues.
Neela finds Johanna outside, absently smoking. "Fourth one I've ever smoked, and already it's getting old," Johanna says guiltily. Neela informs Johanna that her mother is coming to Chicago. Johanna vows that she loves her family and loves Arcola, but got tired of the fact that the cheese festival was her chief source of jollies. I'm not sure what her beef is. Cheese rules. Johanna knows her mother will want her to return to Arcola, writing off the incident as a sign from God. Neela is confused -- she thought it was up to Johanna whether she returned. "It's not so easy," Johanna says. "If you choose not to be Amish, you're shunned. The community turns its back on you." Neela is saddened. Johanna explains that, as scary as the big city is, she likes its associated mysteries and can't imagine choosing a smaller life. But Thomas wants to go home. "Do you love him?" Neela asks. Johanna nods, and asks what Neela would do. Laughing, Neela admits she's not a good advisor: "I'm a Chicago med student of Punjabi extraction by way of London. Bit of a mess, really." But she admits that, in Johanna's shoes, she'd probably go home. Which would be uncomfortable if they wear different sizes.
Remember Mr. Benitez, that guy with shortness of breath that Abby dealt with earlier? Yeah, I don't either, really, but she did, and he's back, and now he's with Susan. She thinks his chest pain is caused by a pulmonary embolism, but she wants an angiogram to be sure before she prescribes treatment. Neela is to escort the mother and son to the family toom. "See you later, Dad!" the moppet says with a really bright wave. "Order some pizza, amigo, I'm hungry!" Benitez grins. Well, he's happy and confident and craving post-procedure Papa John's, so I think it's safe to say that we should bid adieu to Mr. Benitez.
Luka overhears Neela explaining the angiogram to Mrs. Benitez, and asks Neela why she ordered that test. "Dr. Lewis wanted to be sure," she says. "What's your opinion?" Luka asks, somewhat unfairly. "I'm not sure my opinion matters," Neela replies, also somewhat unfairly. Sam curtly summons Luka, but not before he gets in this trite little bon mot: "If you don't think it matters, then it doesn't." Neela's like, "No, actually, if I don't get the lines then it doesn't matter."
Sam is on her way out so that she can get home before Alex gets there. Luka tries again to apologize. "Look, I appreciate you [sic] trying to be his friends, but I just don't want things to get weird," she says. "You're a good guy, I'm sure..." Luka's face is like, "Oh, thanks for your generosity." "...But you don't know crap about raising kids, so thanks for the help, but no thanks. I got it covered," Sam says. Luka bites his tongue about how he had two kids of his own, and that he knew enough not to dump them off in ER lounges and waiting rooms without expecting them to be weird and resentful, and instead just nods, "Okay." I can't wait for Sam to eat a big, fat plate of crow. Smothered in mayonnaise, raw tomato, and other edible evils of the world.
Ken tells Abby that the police found a couple from Rogers Park whose daughter vanished from a mall two years ago and hasn't been seen since. Her profile matches Jane Doe's. Abby's touched to learn that the parents are heading in immediately. "Thank you," she says sincerely.
Gallant arrives and asks if his sister has arrived. "Frank took her to the lounge," Abby says. Gallant invites Lester, Abby, and Neela out for a drink later, and completely ignores Pratt, which is delicious. "What, am I invisible?" Pratt asks. We should be so lucky.
Johanna's mother MamAmish sweeps into the ER in her bonnet and cape and identifies herself. Neela explains that she left the message, and stiffly asks, "How was your trip?" In a weird moment, Abby interrupts and offers to take MamAmish to see her daughter. Neela watches her go kind of uncomfortably. I'm not really sure what any of that meant. That Neela has bad instincts in these situations? Or that she's too formal? Not sure, and losing interest. I like Neela and I enjoy that we don't already know too much about her, but I just am not entirely sure what story they're trying to tell here. Oh, wait, it was just a ruse to make sure Neela stayed at the desk, where she's swarmed by Susan and Luka and physically stuck in the middle of their spat about Mr. Benitez. Luka would have administered the treatment immediately without the test, and Susan preferred to make sure he had a clot before giving him drugs. Luka argues that waiting for Radiology could end up being a fatal time lapse; Susan counters that giving him a drug he doesn't need would result in needless puking. Hmm. Puke or death? Easy choice to me. Luka storms off in a huff, because this isn't really his business, and Susan bitches to Neela, "time you feel like discussing my orders with another doctor, don't talk to Kovac." She leaves before Neela can sputter that she didn't do that. Frank stares at all this pointlessly, unless Troy Evans has been tasked with updating the show Bible and is just trying to put himself in all these scenes to save the research time.
MamAmish gently tells Johanna and Thomas that both families agree it's time for them to return to Arcola to be baptized and married. "I thought we got to decide when," Johanna protests woodenly. Serenely, MamAmish reminds them that they got into potentially fatal trouble, and so she's sure they're mature enough to see that this life isn't right. Johanna twitches a little resentfully, and Thomas smiles. Are all Amish people this laid-back? My God. I'm a coronary case compared to these comatose people. Abby finishes up her business in the room and exits, bumping into Neela. "The Amish lady's working on them," Abby says. Very sensitive. "Oooh, the religious cultists?" Frank asks. Neela defends that it's not a cult. "More like a club," Lester suggests. Abby spies him and remembers to grab his test from her pocket. "How did I do?" he frets. "Oh, pretty good," she smirks. He opens up the page and whoops, "Ninety-seven!" And then there's a pause and he adds, "Percent." It's kind of funny but I'm not sure what it's in aid of, as there's no way there was anywhere near ninety-seven questions on the test, since Abby went from forty-one to done in less than two minutes. Unless that explains why she sucks as an academic. Lester gives Neela hers, and Neela reads it discreetly and puts it away. Abby asks what she got and Neela grudgingly admits she scored a ninety-three. "Sorry, I haven't finished yours yet," Neela lies. Abby knows that's a lie, and winces at what it must mean.
Gallant cruises into the lounge, where his sister Valerie is waiting on the couch. She's played by actress Joy Bryant (Antwone Fisher, Honey), whom I've just realized is the African-American doppelganger of Piper Perabo from Coyote Ugly, which really isn't such a great thing considering how useless Piper Perabo is and how she's got a horse's mouth. Actually, though, Joy is pretty. Gallant sits down and hugs her delightedly, confirming that her flight went fine. He then gets up to go to his locker, telling her that he's hoping they can grab dinner at Ike's down the street. Just then, Pratt enters, his back to Valerie, and hits Gallant with a bogus patient order before demanding to know why he's the last to hear that Valerie is hot. Before Gallant can reply, "Because you're more a pig than a ham and bacon sandwich," Valerie pipes up, "I'm sure he's got his reasons." See the aforementioned pig statement. Pratt wheels around and smiles easily, apologizing. "I'm Dr. Greg Pratt, your brother's mentor," he oozes. Gallant scoffs loudly at that. "Pleased to meet you, Dr. Pratt," Val grins, extending her hand. "Call me Greg, Valerie," he intones. "Call me Val, Gregory," Val banters. Pratt drools an ocean and her eyes gleam. I wonder if these two have a thing for each other in real life; they certainly seem to like working together, between this and Honey. Gallant notices the sparks and slams his locker shut, trying to get Pratt out of there. Pratt greasily invites them out to Ike's for pool and drinks. "Actually, we were planning to eat there already," Valerie gleams. Gallant looks like he wants to throttle Pratt with his stethoscope and throw the remains under a passing helicopter. "What a coincidence," Pratt beams. "Well, I spread the word around a little bit," Gallant grunts. "Didn't get to me," Pratt says through oily teeth. Val just delights in all this.
MamAmish walks Thomas upstairs to his new room, and asks Abby where she might find a phone. "You can do that?" Abby asks, surprised. "We don't hate technology. We just don't allow it to take over our lives," MamAmish says, amused. As Abby waves them upstairs, Frank asks, "What's up with the pilgrims?" They're pissed off that no one invented football until after the first Thanksgiving. Abby explains that Thomas is going home once he's all better. Neela asks what Johanna's doing, and Abby says she's still mulling it over. Neela stares through the window at a morose Johanna.
The couple who was summoned to claim Jane Doe arrives, calling her Kendra and themselves Larry and Judith. The woman is played by Nicey Nash, who's on Reno 911, and whom I can't take seriously because of that. Abby happily leads them back to see Kendra.
Frank answers a call from the angiogram techs and tells Susan that Mr. Benitez is crashing up there. She and Luka bolt upstairs to find Neela beginning compressions. "Must've thrown a big clot," Luka says, annoyed. Susan staunchly insists that it's an allergic reaction to the dye; Luka claims he should've had the drug treatment. "It's classic signs of an allergic reaction," argues Susan, pointing Neela to the red marks on Mr. Benitez's shins and demanding that she offer an assessment. "Hives? I'm not certain," Neela admits. Benitez hits v-tach. I don't know what that means, but in my mind I translate it to "largely screwed."
Haleh is with Kendra when Abby brings in the parents. They creep toward her gingerly. "Oh, no," Larry chokes. Abby's flustered, because Kendra's probably going to be fine and she can't figure out why he'd be alarmed, because she's apparently turned into some kind of optimist in the last five minutes. "It's her, it's her," insists Judith deliriously. "No, honey, it's not," Larry exhales. "It could be!" Judith protests. Larry insists that it isn't. "Maybe she just changed, you know; maybe she's different," Judith cries desperately, but Larry hugs her and haltingly tells Abby that the girl on the bed isn't Kendra. They leave, shattered. As Abby and Haleh exchange sad glances, we fade to black somewhat astounded that this show so consistently tops its own record-setting downers.
Benitez is in v-fib, or as I like to call it, "Probably worse than v-tach but not quite asystole." Then, because Mr. Benitez likes to go that extra mile, he goes ahead and hits asystole and Susan calls a time of death. Luka smarms that one shot of the drug Heparin could've prevented this, and Susan really doesn't want to deal with his stupid childish pissing contest in the middle of Radiology. "That's crap, Luka, he was killed by an anaphylactic reaction to the dye," she snaps. Luka starts to argue that unnecessary testing killed Benitez, and as his widow and son sob pathetically through the window, Neela finally breaks. "Please stop!" she yells. They gape at her. "It's not about PE and it's not about anaphylactics. It's about this man." Go Neela! Susan and Luka don't know what to say; they didn't expect her to have a spine because they'd been going on the theory that she'd inherit the Earth.
Jane "Ex-Kendra" Doe is still lying alone in the trauma room. Ken enters, because he heard that he's hot and he wants to hear the collective longing moans of American viewers so that he can confirm this theory. He and Abby commiserate on the sad turn of events with Kendra, and says that a woman at CPS is letting him go through the foster records. Yeah, I'll just bet she is, especially if that's a synonym for "pants." Abby sighs that she can't believe a little girl has disappeared and no one noticed. "We'll keep looking," Ken vows.
Neela enters and asks Abby if she's going to Ike's. Abby wants to wait and make sure that Jane Doe gets up to the PICU. "Can't a nurse do that?" Neela asks. Abby points out that she is a nurse. "You're also a med student," Neela notes. I guess that would be one of the identity crises, had the show stuck with that title, which is actually a lot more widely apt than "Missing." Anyway, Abby pauses to think about this...
...and ends up leaving with Neela to hit Ike's. Pratt catches up with them, but Neela in turn peels off because she sees Johanna and MamAmish hugging each other tightly. Rather than respect the sanctity of a mother-daughter farewell, Neela runs right up and is basically like, "What's the haps, Amish peeps?" Johanna thanks Neela for her help, and then turns to MamAmish and says, "Abscheid," which apparently means "Farewell." MamAmish says, "Gott mit dich," which I'm guessing means, "Go with God." Tears streaming down her face, Johanna flees. MamAmish absently smiles that she has six other younger children who were so thrilled that Johanna would be coming home. "She's a good girl, ma'am," Neela says sweety. "She'll be all right." MamAmish looks at her with wet eyes and sages, "You can't make them stay if they don't want to." Yeah, so you shouldn't freeze them out for exercising freedom of choice. I don't know much about how true that is, but I know it's a pretty strict faith, so I guess it's probably right.
Sam calls Luka at County, all in a tizzy because her demon spawn has run back to the hell dimension from whence it came. As Luka tries to calm her down, Frank notices Alex sitting in the waiting area, so Luka reassures Sam that he's got Alex, and hangs up.
Alex is pouting royally. So mighty is his brooding, you'd think he and Luka sprang from the same sperm. "I had to go to Gym," he sadly tells Luka. "I got pinned by some kid in ten seconds. I don't think you should go back to Africa." Why, so he can teach you how to wrestle little boys? What exactly do you think Luka is, child? Alex frowns that he heard Africa is dangerous. "Your Mom's worried about you," Luka says softly. "She's a loser," Alex spits. "HEY," Luka snaps. "She does a lot." Ha! Even he can't refute that Sam sucks. He probably should have lied and told Alex to respect his non-loser mother, but it's funnier this way. "Is that why we're always moving around?" Alex whines. "Leaving as soon as I've got friends?" Luka points out that Sam does what she has to in order to take care of Alex. "She wishes she never had me!" Alex blurts, sticking out his lower lip. Kid, you stole a severed finger. Can you blame her? You almost fucked over a guy who might have wanted to use that finger to flip the bird. Maybe even at your mother.
At Ike's, Pratt arrives with Neela and Abby to see that Gallant and Valerie are already seated at a table. Introductions are exchanged again. Valerie exposits that she's in Chicago for a month taking a seminar at Northwestern; she's a teacher of special-needs students in D.C. I'm not sure how she can take a month off in the middle of a semester, but okay. Actually, what interests me more is that she and Gallant are twins, yet she's a much lighter-skinned African-American. I'm not trying to be insensitive -- I guess I just don't know if that's realistic or not. Gallant, of course, gets paged suddenly, probably by some homeless guy Pratt paid off in an alleyway, so he gets up, and Pratt oozes into his chair to Valerie. "Mike never told me your mother was so beautiful," he coos. Valerie's like, Huh? Pratt: "She'd have to be to have a daughter like you." Abby and Neela recognize the honings of a trouser radar and astutely excuse themselves from the mating ritual. "Don't hold back, Greg," Valerie says. Ew.
Cut to Neela doing a shot and boozily asking Abby whether it's bad that she's not going home. Just like her little Amish patient. "I never miss a Sikh naming ceremony, but that's just me," Abby cracks. She's sipping on a dark cola with at least one red straw in it. I have no idea if it's spiked or not, but I'm inclined to think not, because this show would be likely to make a WAY bigger deal out of Abby's having a drink. There'd at least be wagon-toppling music. Neela slurs that they're just choosing a name -- she shouldn't have to be there. "Do you have nieces?" she asks. Abby sighs that her brother's single, but that she hasn't seen him in a long time because they're both getting their stuff together. I thought Abby had more siblings than that -- maybe, mercifully, they've been erased from existence. ["That line is also a little funny, since we all saw her brother an hour ago...on Will & Grace." -- Wing Chun] "I'm trying to get my stuff together, too," Neela sways. "Let's all of us get our stuff together." She's beaming. It's really funny. They toast and drink. Abby shifts in her seat and asks if Neela ever got around to scoring her test. Neela flinches and hands it over to her. "Fifty two?!?" Abby gasps. "I got a fifty-two percent?" Neela snickers, "Think of it as half-full." She clearly doesn't know that Abby's the type of life pessimist that doesn't even believe in refills, much less the concept of "half-full."
Elizabeth gazes morosely at the memorial. Weaver walks past and spies her, stopping to apologize fairly insincerely for not showing up that afternoon. "You weren't the only one," Elizabeth says. "He had nothing but this place, Kerry. No wife, no kids. Everything he ever had, he lost here. At the end of a life, you'd think there'd be more to say." Well, talk to the people putting the words in your mouth. "He'll be missed," Weaver says in clipped tones. "Whether we realize it or not." Sad, Elizabeth crouches down to look at the photographs, and notices a card on a basket of flowers. It reads, "Condolences. The Staff of County General." Absently, she burns it from the flame of one of the candles.
Neela has apparently drunkenly spilled to everyone that she mouthed off to Susan and Luka. They can't believe it. "I didn't mean to," she protests. "They just kind of looked at me like they couldn't believe it, like, 'You? You're not supposed to get angry.'" Pratt giggles, "What's happening to our little girl?" Neela rants that she always gets different versions of those looks -- either people thin she's a sweet Indian girl who grew up begging for bread in Calcutta ("You mean you didn't?" Gallant teases. "I've never even been to Calcutta!" she slurs), or the well-educated British girl who's well-spoken and docile. "With a very good vocabulary," Pratt grins. They're all totally watching her like she's a spectator sport. I kind of wish someone would give her sympathy, but they're all sober and she's not, and she's on kind of an entertaining roll. Neela complains that she's not Indian, she's not British, and she's not American, so she's not really sure who or what she actually is. "Do you ever feel like you don't know who the hell you are?" she asks Abby, doing the drunk head-turn that involves hanging your neck and then jerking it back up at an angle. Many a night have I executed that one. "No, but I'm very well-adjusted," Abby deadpans.
Gallant asks if Valerie is ready to leave. She thanks everyone for a fun night, and Neela immediately apologizes for monopolizing "the intercourse." Everyone giggles. "Discourse," she corrects drunkenly. Abby nods and winks at her. Gallant asks Valerie if she'd like her chair, but she wants to use the sticks; as Pratt puts on his gloves and coat, he sees her get up and thread her arms through two large crutches. "I need a little help sometimes," she smiles blithely.
Neela turns to Abby. "Do you have a cigarette?" she asks. "Nope," Abby replies. "Thank God," Neela exhales gratefully. Best exchange of the episode, because I've so been Neela in this situation. Hell, almost every time I'm drunk.
Gallant resists leaving Valerie alone with Pratt while he gets the car, but she insists, so he reluctantly leaves. "I hope I didn't come off sounding too insensitive," Pratt says. Referring to what, exactly? I guess with Pratt it doesn't matter, because it could be anything, or most likely everything. "I'm just doing me, talking my crap," he says. "I didn't realize...." What, that she needs help walking? That changes how hot she is? Nice. "...How easy it is for me to get a seat on the subway?" she finishes his thought with a laugh. "You flirted, Greg. I flirted back." He smiles. Valerie says she was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis when she was twenty-two, which would indeed appear to contradict "Secrets and Lies," in which Gallant said his twin sister had cerebral palsy. Maybe she has a magic morphing disease. "Before that, I was a normal girl -- very normal," Valerie says. "I didn't grow up limited, so I don't think of myself that way." Pratt asks how advanced her disease is. Valerie says she has a few relapses a year, but that she's still fully functional. As he cocks an eyebrow, Valerie giggles, "How's that for a pickup line?" Pratt clearly likes her, but he doesn't want to fuck her up, considering that she has her own problems. Valerie is basically like, "Having sex with you would really not complicate my life that much, because I'm not really that attached to you at all, because you're just a shallow blowhard whose last girlfriend gave his penis frostbite, so let's get it on and warm that thing up." Yes, I might have extrapolated a bit, but I feel good about it.
When Alex gets home, Sam sends him into his room. "Don't ever do that to me again," she warns with a tremor in his voice. She closes the door to his room and returns to the den, where she faces Luka. Sam takes a swig of her beer bottle and says, "I didn't mean to be a bitch before." Luka insists that she wasn't. He's being too charitable. "I don't worry about not having a man in my life, but maybe he needs one. Maybe I'm not paying enough attention to that," she frets. "Better no man than the wrong one," Luka says with a deliciously earnest smile. How can she be stonewalling him? Eat up, girlfriend. Sam spouts the typical Woe Is Me teenage conception story of her boyfriend being a hot punk with a huge stash of weed who knocked her up at age fifteen. So she's supposed to be twenty-four or twenty-five? I don't buy that one at all. Luka observes that she and Alex basically grew up together. "I'm a good big sister, but I'm not always sure how great a mom I am," Sam admits. Welcome to "What The Viewers Have Known Since Day One," Sam. I think you'll find it enlightening here. Luka grins that parents always feel that way about their skills, and Sam worries that Alex will be at a shrink ten years from now complaining about how much she fucked him up. Oh, so it's not about him -- it's about what he thinks of her. Right. Way to go, Samthrax. Luka promises that kids are resilient. Sam's expression melts a bit, and she inches closer to Luka. "Look, I know I said I don't need any help, but tonight, I did," she says. "So thanks for the help." She noses herself into a tight hug that Alex is watching from his cracked-open bedroom door. It's kind of a long hug. I can't tell if Luka's that into it; I just think he's happy to be doing some good that doesn't involve a risk of malaria. They finally part, and Luka leaves as Alex sneaks back to bed.
Weaver and Haleh are working away on something when Haleh notices that Jane Doe is awake and trying to sit up. They hurry in to her. "It's okay, sweetie," Weaver says. "I know, you don't need that to help you breathe anymore, do you?" She gracefully and kindly explains how they're going to take it out. I love watching Weaver with child patients -- she's really wonderful with them, and it's a dimension to her character that I miss, because it contrasts so well with the cold bitch who runs the place. Jane Doe appears to be in normal health, but she can't quite find her voice. As Weaver leaves to attend to another patient, Jane Doe croaks, "Amanda," very weakly. Haleh turns around and smiles. I so thought she was going to say, "Kendra." Damn, though. Depressing.
Sam creeps into Alex's room and sits on his bed, stroking his hair in almost a mirror image of the scene at the top of the show. "I love you, kiddo. More than anything," she whispers, kissing his head. As she leaves, beer bottle in tow, Alex opens his eyes and smiles a bit. So, I'm not sure how much of any of that he did because he was trying to get Sam together with Luka, but I think we can all agree that it's his desired end result. Great.