Previously on ER: Elizabeth hated the new surgical Attending, Dr. Dubenko. Neela was all lethargic and depressed since deciding her life was wrong, and had to settle for a job at the creatively named Jumbo Mart. Luka asked Sam to move in with him. Howard ignored Abby's question about whether he has OCD. Carter convinced Elizabeth to perform an illegal operation: transplanting a liver from one HIV patient into another.
We open in a tenement that looks a lot like the set they use for Abby's apartment, but without a sad sack sleeping on the couch. A woman is clutching her children to her while screaming and crying. We hear a man's voice outside the door as he pounds on it, threatening to kill her and all of the kids. Somebody clearly didn't receive his copy of Bill Cosby's Fatherhood. To punctuate his threat, the man shoots through the door; the mother freaks and wails and weeps while her son says, "Mama, please!" She trembles, "We gotta go." Then she turns toward the open window and you can see in her eyes that there's an epiphany happening. "We gotta go where he can't find you," she says. Where, outside? Good plan. He'll never go there. She hustles her two girls to the window as the door bursts open. "Mama!" shouts her son. We smash to the credits, and wave goodbye to Alex Kingston's card.
While driving Ella to school, Elizabeth is on the phone with Carter. "The transplant wasn't a total success," she says. "I still have to meet with the medical executive committee." Ella starts waving around some photographs. I hope one of them is a photo of what happens when you drive and talk on your cell at the same time, although I guess a snapshot of a fiery death wouldn't be a good or logical thing for a little girl to have. Elizabeth tells Carter she's nervous, too, and then hangs up the phone. "Mommy, is this Daddy?" Ella asks, holding up a close-up of Mark. "Yeah, you know that," Elizabeth smiles. Then Ella holds up a picture of her grandparents and asks who they are. "Are they dead too?" she wonders. Elizabeth bites her lip and considers this for a good long time, because it's her last plot and she wants to make it count.
Alex and Sam walk to County. He's yammering on about not wanting to go to another field trip because he's already been to that museum a million times, despite only having lived in Chicago for, what, seven months? That's a lot of repetitive field trips. Perhaps Sam should be concerned that her son's school is stupid. And wait -- it's still July in ER time; possibly, it's August, but storylines dictate that it can't be that far off from everything that happened on Independence Day. Is Alex even supposed to be in school yet? At any rate, Alex waxes rhapsodic about how Luka taught him to rob all fifteen stores in the Vice City game. Sam is heartened that Alex is enjoying his criminal education. "You like it over there at Luka's?" Sam asks oh-so-casually. "Guess so," Alex answers. Sam wants to know how Alex would like moving in with Luka. "Are you serious?" he replies, and his tone is sort of happy. "You want to?" Sam isn't sure because they've never done it before. "We lived with Dad," he offers. Then he brightens and asks if this means he can put their TV set in his bedroom. Sam figures they should think about it a bit more. Why? She wants it, and he's fine with it -- she should just go for it, unless she's really worried that giving him a TV in his room will make him more inclined to perform some playground surgery. By the way, I love that they've totally toned down making Alex a freak. I'm guessing the show sensed it went too far with that initially.
At the Jumbo Mart, Neela watches a man sneeze on his newspaper instead of paying for it. She doesn't look like she appreciates that damning indictment of modern journalism oozing all over her store's wares. Howard is at the register counting out all his change in order to hit $1.19. Abby shows up and pays for herself and Howard, because he's so OCD that he's not allowed to do math. He shoots her an evil glare. "He has a touch of OCD," Abby broadcasts to Neela after he leaves. It's irritating that she's made herself such a megaphone of dysfunction, because there are only so many different ways to spin the whole "pot/kettle" cliché. Neela snorts that she didn't know it was possible to have a gentle case of OCD. Then she asks if it's busy at County. "I wouldn't know," Abby says. "I thought you got out of your mandatory ride-along," Neela says in that clumsy, over-specific way that's reserved for expository dialogue. It's like how on Passions Fox Crane told Ethan, "Hey, half-brother, I really like your real father, Police Chief Sam Bennett." Very subtle. Apparently Abby tried to get out of her ride-along with the EMTs by telling them that riding in windowless vehicles makes her sick, but they didn't fall for it, possibly because the ambulances they use at County do in fact have windows on the back doors. Nice one, Abby. "How's it going here?" she asks. "Great. I get ten percent off all my purchases," Neela says with fake gratefulness. Which she should really cram, as she certainly owes Abby some groceries, and hey, ten percent is ten percent. Abby is called away by the paramedics.
Carter chases Weaver around so he can try to stick up for Elizabeth, or at least remove the stick up Kerry's bum. "I talked her into doing it," he argues. "Your hand never touched a scalpel," Weaver replies. Which is exactly why Carter is being so forthcoming about his role in all this. He knows the law can't touch him. So courageous, this one. Weaver sighs that she only wants to determine Elizabeth's understanding of the law -- "Which is about to change," Carter interrupts -- concerning transplants and HIV patients. I have a hard time imagining that it matters either way; if Elizabeth knew, she is screwed, but if she didn't know, she was being ignorant and negligent, so the hospital isn't likely to smile upon that either. Carter just wants the chance to speak on Elizabeth's behalf, apparently figuring that the oratory prowess that convinced her to do it might now get her out of hot water. Damn him and his silver tongue. "Attendance is limited to department heads, and last time I checked, you weren't one," Weaver sasses. She's so bitchy, but in this moment, hooray.
Pratt arrives, cheerful as can be. I guess his brain is back to normal, if "cocksure jacknut" ever really constitutes normalcy. Weaver decides to move the scene to the elevator, which I would too if I had Pratt around me, blowing harder than MegaMaid. As Weaver walks, she grouches about people using work as therapy for post-traumatic stress. "He's fine," Carter says. "I'm not talking about him," Weaver says pointedly. She gets Carter into the elevator with her -- and doesn't hold it for someone who is dashing for them, which is deliciously nasty -- and basically tells Carter that she hasn't forgotten he's an addict. And therefore, since he's susceptible to falling off the wagon during this time of strife, she won't be giving him the extra shifts he requested. Carter sucks in his cheeks and prays for a lightning bolt. None strikes. "Why push it, why tempt fate? God knows you don't need the money," she points out. Carter bites back whatever comment his brain is formulating about her being an officious bitch, possibly because he still has a bruise on his ass from the most recent time the wagon left the station without him. "It's no problem, Kerry," he says firmly. "Good," she says, meeting his eye. "I'm not in the business of safeguarding doctors' licenses. Not twice, anyway." She denies his request for extra shifts and tells him to fill his life with movies and weekend jaunts rather than County work. That's a lovely thing to say to somebody who just lost a kid, and basically, a fiancée. If anyone had suggested Weaver take a jaunt to a lakeside cabin after Sandy's death, you can bet she'd have found creative places on that person's body to dig into with her cane.
Susan appears in the hallway and comments that Weaver's assistant has been rude about finding time for Susan to see her. Of course Weaver has a rude assistant. I don't think anybody could put up with her if he or she didn't have ice in the veins. Susan tells Weaver that she wants the ER Chief job, which surprises Weaver because Susan has turned it down once already. "That was pre-baby," she says. "Turns out I like kids better when they're not sucking the life force out of me." And when they're not your own. I don't remember her sister's kid grieving her too much; I'd be affronted at this disregard for history, but with this crew, we'd be lucky if TPTB remembers that Susan has a sister in the first place. Susan tells Weaver that Chuck is fine with being a stay-at-home dad as long as they can make up for the lost income. Yeah, I bet he's fine with it -- he watched a MedEvac chopper blow up mid-air. If one of my colleagues was killed by an exploding iMac, I'd consider giving it all up, too. Weaver offers her a two-year contract for a grand more per week. Wait, Chuck only made fifty-two thousand a year? I know he was a flight nurse and not a doctor, but man, you'd have to pay me more than that to do a job that required that much flying and nursing. Susan takes the deal instantly, which is too bad for Weaver because if she'd read my recaps, she'd know that she should've reoffered the slightly cheaper three-thousand dollars per month rate she extended to Susan last time. But, the deal is done, Susan emerged a winner, and Weaver immediately hands Weaver a bunch of tedious paperwork and a clogged-toilet issue in the ER. Susan is flummoxed.
Abby's team of medics is hanging out on the Warner Bros. "Chicago sidewalk" set, tending to two girls who were placed there and then artfully arranged at tragic angles. I won't suspend my disbelief here because the scene is a little disturbing when not taken for what it is: fake. We see a woman screaming, "He tried to kill my babies," and we recognize them all from the cold open: the manically screaming mother and her scared kids. Abby tends to a little girl named Kali while Manic Mom wails, "Oh, God, why did you let this happen?" Well, clearly, he had a bet with St. Peter on whether they'd bounce when they hit the pavement. Poor old God. Always getting the blame. Apparently the omnipotent aren't allowed to have trouble multitasking. Poor Kali has a puddle of blood underneath her. "Are you an angel?" she says woozily as she looks up at Abby's face. "An angel gonna take me to heaven?" Abby blinks, remembering with discomfort that she hasn't seen her halo since she tried to use it as a coaster on her last bender.
Pratt is impatient with his crop of med students, none of whom we've seen before. They're discussing curious bumps on a patient, and Pratt is dumbfounded that they can't figure them out or describe them. Indeed, one girl helpfully sputters, "They're just...bumps." Pratt turns to face them, annoyed. "First, read up on derm," he lectures. "Secondly, learn to describe lesions systematically so your superiors don't look at you like you're complete dumb-asses." As if there is anything these students can do to prevent Pratt from looking at them like they're dumb-asses. It's his default. Pratt introduces himself to Mr. Hayslip, the patient, and asks to see the lumps. Hayslip reveals a freaky series of pellet-like growths covering his chest and arm. Pratt's totally thinking, "Wow, they're just...bumps," and mutters that they'll have to run some tests.
Then Pratt scampers off to talk to Chen, who has just appeared with a little electric saw. I hope we're about to witness a murderous rampage. She tells Pratt that the nurses were too busy, so she borrowed the cast cutter to remove her cast herself. Realizing that this is a dumb plan, Pratt offers to help her. "I know you're limber, but you're not that limber," Pratt snickers. Oh, God, stop. Please leave all references to sexual gymnastics off-camera, will you? My stomach isn't that strong today.
Manic Mom is flitting around wailing to everyone that her tragedy happened so fast -- her husband charged right at them, and then suddenly two of her kids were lying on the ground. She wants to ride along in the rig, but policy prevents it. "What if he comes back? We have to stay together," babbles Manic Mom. Abby tells her to hop in, over the objections of the actual paramedics, one of whom complains that he thought Abby was supposed to be along for the ride and nothing more. Abby doesn't care about his rules, or his job, so she ignores him and sends the brother into the other rig.
No one has signed Chen's cast. She is a sad, friendless ice queen. And because Pratt is a bad person, he actually comments on the lack of signatures, because I'm sure he's never encountered an uncomfortable situation that he didn't somehow worsen. "I haven't left the house in weeks," Chen says dully, admitting that the only reason she even left now is because an ambulance came for her father and she could easily hitch a ride. "He has pneumonia again. For the third time," she frowns. "And phlebitis, and a UTI." Pratt purrs that he would've picked Chen up if she'd called. In what? His Chrysler's parked in a riverbed. Maybe his insurance company put him in a nice Dodge Stratus-or-equivalent. Chen grins that, if he'll excuse her, it'll be a long time before she rides in car with him again. She laughs, he doesn't. Chen asks if he ever thinks about Elgin, and then the scene ends, so I guess the answer is no.
The rigs with Manic Mom's kids arrive. They put Kali in Trauma Yellow, where Pratt arrives to help. "Switching teams on us now, Lockhart?" he says, noticing her EMT garb. Abby does what all good doctors do: ignores the jackass. "He only used to hurt me," Manic Mom wails. "Why hurt my baaaabieeeeees?" Chuny escorts Mom out for the protection of their collective ear drums. Carter delivers the appalled "I hope they catch the bastard who did this to the little children" line just as Kali whimpers, "I'm scared." Abby joins her and yells to the medics that she'll go out with them on their run. Mr. Offscreen EMT sighs irritatedly and points out that if she won't get credit for her ride-along if she doesn't actually...you know, ride along. Because she is polite, Abby totally ignores this. Pratt exposits that the sister in Trauma Green is stable, and we fade to black on a shot of Kali's face as Abby dons a lead apron to whip up a nice fresh batch of X-ray stew.
The committee of department heads has convened its meeting about Elizabeth's fate. It basically involves the members asking questions and then glaring at her while she answers, to remove any inconvenient "innocent until proven guilty" pretense. Elizabeth gives carefully vague answers to avoid admitting to anything -- for instance, when asked if the transplant team knew that both patients were HIV-positive, she responds that universal precautions are taken before every operation, regardless of HIV status. She's basically all, "I'm a hero," and they're like, "We're going to get sued." She counters that the donor had no family, so there's no one around to be upset that they gave away his innards. Anspaugh points out that what she did was illegal. Elizabeth neglects to point out that sometimes, it's just easier to agree to Carter so that he stops hanging around you with that expression of moral disappointment. "At the moment, yes, [it's illegal]," Elizabeth says. "But the bill changing all of that is sitting on the governor's desk as we speak." Unsigned, but hey, it's there, and apparently presence is now nine-tenths of the law. Elizabeth makes the sympathetic argument about how she saved a man who would never have had a chance, and she did it with a liver no one else could take. Anspaugh takes the hard line and points out that the recipient technically wasn't even their patient. Weaver just sits there looking so very disappointed in all this -- except we all know her too well, and are well aware that she salivates over disciplinary action, or at least the whiff of it. "You breached hospital policy, state, and federal law, which is grounds for dismissal and loss of license," she says with calculated gentleness, even though her insides must be rejoicing at the utterance of words like "breach" and "dismissal." Suddenly, Dr. Dubenko enters, to Elizabeth's alarm. "He's on the medical ethics committee," Anspaugh replies. "If you'd followed protocol and presented to them, you'd have known that." Oh, burn. Busted. Elizabeth gulps and scans the room nervously. Weaver won't even look at her, preferring to gaze down at her paper in a show of troubled resignation. This is the moment when Elizabeth realizes that, despite all the sex she had at the end of last season, she hadn't been truly screwed until now. "What's the step, then?" she asks. "We'll make a decision," Weaver replies. "You'll be notified when we reach one." Elizabeth leaves with a heavy heart.
Sam, Luka, and Ray work on Tamira, the girl in Trauma Green. Sam is having a hard time doing...something, because of the girl's small veins. "Need some help?" Ray asks. "I've done it before," Sam replies. "Yeah? I bet you're pretty good at it, too," Ray says huskily. Whaaaa? First of all, how did he turn that into a dirty joke? I consider myself something of an expert in that regard, and I'm stymied. Yet even so, why on earth did Ray figure that over the dying body of a little girl was the optimal place to deliver the dirty joke? Freak. I guess that's what happens when you can't actually act like a doctor: you get stupid lines with low syllable counts. Elizabeth enters on a surgical consult, so Luka shares that the girl has a chest contusion and fractured ribs. Sam struggles to do her job, and it took me a while to remember that working on children gives her trouble. "Do we need another nurse?" Elizabeth asks. Luka shakes his head and then makes his way up to Tamira so that he can chat to her about the Wiggles. It makes her comfortable enough that somehow it aids Sam in getting things done, and frankly, Luka saying the word "Wiggles" is just really cute. And apparently it has a good effect on the bowels of young girls, because Elizabeth pronounces that they are making excellent sounds. Whatever that entrails...er, entails. She's impressed that Luka knows about the Wiggles. "I try to keep up. Gives you something to talk to them about," Luka says nonchalantly. Sam looks at him like she'd nail him right now if there wasn't a broken child lying on the nearest bed-like object. Ray is less impressed. "You're kidding me, right?" he gapes, unable to believe that people do thinks to prepare for work that don’t involve shopping for hair gel or picking your t-shirt up off the floor, spraying the pits with Glade, and donning it. "I hate the bloody Wiggles," Elizabeth says cheerfully.
Elizabeth enters Trauma Yellow and finds Carter working with Kali, who has a bad pelvic fracture. They decide to use sheet traction to hold things in place while they wait for ortho. "How did it go upstairs?" Carter asks. "Not sure. I'll know in a couple of hours. Thanks for asking," she says, figuring that will change the subject before Carter can make this any more public, or worse, lay down a jinx. But that of course does not work: Carter confidently tells her that she'll just get a slap on the wrist. Elizabeth shoots him an "end of subject" glare that shows she knows full well he's baking a chocolate cake for Fate with crack in the icing. Suddenly, Kali murmers, "Angel?" Carter is surprised. "Uh, Abby, I think she's talking to you," he says. Abby goes over to reassure Kali that she's still there, and Kali smiles.
Apparently, Mr. Hayslip's constellation of bumps is actually an advanced form of lung cancer. The students pull Pratt out of Trauma Yellow so that he can deliver the message. While he's gone, Howard makes a comment about how he only dipped something into Kali's urine twice. I hope it's a medical strip of some kind and not, say, his finger. "Why? Once is sufficient," Elizabeth says. Howard flinches. Sam yells to Elizabeth that Tamira has a pulmonary contusion. "Should we get the mom in here?" Sam asks. "Why? I'm not planning on her dying. Are you?" Elizabeth asks. We pan down to poor little almost-dead Tamira's face, as the shadow of the Jinx Fairy passes over it, hands rubbing together with glee.
Susan is frustrated with her mountain of work. Weaver drifts past to make some unnecessarily nasty comments to the effect that Susan failure to have caught up yet indicates some rustiness. Weaver's then gone again before Susan can set fire to her pants. Jerry congratulates Susan on the new job while handing her some papers that he cheerfully explains are his time-off requests, a demand for a pay increase, and his letter of resignation just in case both conditions aren't met. "Welcome to management," he smiles. Susan simmers.
Kali isn't doing so well. As her mother comes in to see her, Kali starts moaning, "No, I don't want to!" Abby tries to calm her as Manic Mom flips out because she thinks no one's doing anything to help her children, and because there is perfectly good uneaten scenery that no one else is bothering to chew. Abby has to seize her and say very firmly that people are trying to help; she escorts Manic Mom back out of the trauma room. Manic Mom whimpers, because she can't not be acting, acting, acting.
Pratt takes his students to deliver the news to Hayslip. I won't recap it, because it's sad, and lonely old people really get to me. Seriously. I'm empathetic to the point of having to avert my eyes. It's rather pathetic.
Pratt returns to Trauma Yellow and resumes his position as the holder of the sheet that's anchoring Kali's pelvis in place. Dubenko enters in search of Elizabeth, notices the sheet, and suggests that they use a newer method. Pratt and Carter are suitably impressed, because they're a million years behind Dubenko and he is a ray of sunshine, and really, it's amazing that they're not still trying to use leeches. Suddenly, Manic Mom's son enters and just stares, frightened, at his sister's body. "Um, Saige, right?" Carter says. "Is my sister gonna die?" Saige breathes. Carter wants Howard to remove the child, and Howard pissily suggests that it's a social worker's job. Pratt retorts that the social worker isn't there yet. "So get a nurse to talk to him," Howard snaps. So he's OCD and an asshole now, apparently. "I'm a little busy right now," Chuny says coldly. Saige points to Pratt and says he wants to talk to him. Pratt gives up the sheet traction to Howard. "Where's the damn social worker?" Carter suddenly yells. Enter the blonde: a woman meanders over from Trauma Green and says, "Covering two hospitals by herself until midnight. That's my excuse for being late -- what's yours for being an ass?" Ugh. A meet-cute. And a bad one, because Carter's allowed to yell if the social worker is late and he doesn't know why. Also, Mädchen Amick is a pretty stiff actress, so she has no sense of timing and just threw up the line as fast as she could. Given the current employment of Daniel Dae Kim, the actor who formerly played their social worker, I really wish someone had ad-libbed, "What? We Lost Ken?" (Oh, and if you're keeping score: Mädchen Amick was recently recapped in episiodes of Gilmore Girls, as "the girlfriend" of Rory's father Christopher. She was also Shelly on Twin Peaks.)
Dubenko joins Elizabeth in Trauma Green, where she dissolves into being an immature bitch again. "The rib sliced up her spleen," Dubenko says, analyzing the ultrasound or whatever it is they're seeing on a screen. "The large amount of free fluid in the subdiaphragmatic is rather obvious," sneers Elizabeth. Burn! I'm totally using that the time somebody upstages me. Something starts beeping -- it's all a little unclear to me what happens, but basically, something goes wrong with Tamira's lung and Elizabeth calls for one course of action but Dubenko realizes that something else will work perfectly. It does. Elizabeth is pretty rude and stubborn about it and everyone looks around kind of awkwardly. When they get ready to send Tamira up to the OR, Sam asks whose name she should put on the chart. "Mine," both Elizabeth and Dubenko say. Everyone wants to drop through the floor.
Manic Mom stares straight into the camera and rocks back and forth. It's a little unsettling, like this is some kind of reality show called Psych Ward and the premise is a bunch of disheveled crazy people shouting things at the audience. Although sometimes that's what The Real World feels like. Abby and the social worker are sitting with her. Mädchen Amick looks jarringly like Aimee Mann sometimes, and I never thought I'd say this, but she's even more duck-lipped than Abby is. Manic Mom starts saying that she needs to pray for her kids, and pray that her husband dies because he's evil. This devolves into cackling. "But he gave me my children. Now, he's gonna take them away," she says, now fully in the throes of The Crazy. She sobs and laughs and laughs and sobs, and Abby purses her lips. She's clearly feeling threatened by the new chick, who is all but quacking over there on the sofa.
Pratt walks Saige through the hospital. "Is my mom gonna be okay?" he asks. "She's worried and upset," Pratt says. "I'm sure you are, too, but hopefully your sisters will get better soon and be back at home getting on your nerves in no time." Pratt points out the cops and says they'll do everything they can to save them from their father. Saige responds by urinating all over his pants, making a puddle of all the reasons Pratt intends to remain a bachelor forever.
Abby goes to talk to the cops about Manic Mom's husband. They can't find him, but think he may have fled the state a year ago because no one's seen him here lately. The neighbors were either drunk or gone. The cops want to talk to her. "She's still very upset and scattered," Abby notes. "I would be, too, but I would want to catch the guy who did it," the cop says melodramatically. Abby follows him into the room, where Mädchen rises and introduces herself as Wendall, which is ludicrous but far preferable to having to type an umlaut. "The detective needs to ask you about your husband," Wendall says woodenly to Manic Mom. "He likes to drink. Got drunk as soon as he could every day," Manic Mom says. They ask for the name of his favorite bar, and they're off to the races.
Dubenko and Elizabeth wheel Tamira to the elevator. He takes the time to congratulate her on the transplant work. "Groundbreaking stuff," he nods. "I wasn't trying to break any ground," she says sternly. What is up with this person -- what did he do that renders Elizabeth completely unable to react like a sensible human being? I mean, I know she had turned into a raging bitch at one point, but I thought all the sex from last season loosened her up a little. In several ways. Dubenko awkwardly clarifies that he thinks in a perfect world she would get an award for what she did, which he deems brave. Chuny passes by to tell Dubenko that the T-Pod traction is ready for Kali, and Elizabeth furrows her brow. "Sheet traction is archaic. This gives better hug around the hips and thighs," he says. Then he shrugs and apologizes quite sincerely, and I have to say, if the goal was to make Elizabeth look right or even justified in being angry with Weaver for hiring him, then this failed. Because I kind of like Dubenko. God knows it's hard to hate someone who stays on top of new developments in medicine. If we stoned all those people, we really would still be getting leech treatments for everything from hangnails to cervical cancer. And I don't know about you, but there is no place for a leech on my cervix.
Elizabeth sucks in a deep breath. Jerry chases her to send her up to Weaver, but Elizabeth doesn't care about the cane-wielding fruit of Satan's thorny loins: "Tell her to wait," she snaps.
Kali asks for Abby again, because she still thinks Abby is an angel and no one's been in the mood to disavow her by going over Abby's entire personal history. "I wasn't a bad girl," Kali moans. "Of course you weren't!" Abby says immediately. Kali's pressure drops as she cries, "I don't want to go there!" She's weakening. They have to intubate her. "I want to go with you, angel," Kali murmurs. As they all scream for the crash cart, we fade to black on a blurring shot of Kali's face.
When we return, Howard is bagging Kali while the others discuss her treatment. We begin a slow push toward Howard, with his voice -- "One, two, three, squeeze; one, two, three, squeeze" -- growing louder and louder. Finally, he snaps: "Will you please SHUT UP!" The roar is loud. Everyone stops and just kind of stares at him blankly. Howard resumes the chant right where he left off, as if nothing happened, while Abby gives him the kind of look that will make all OCD sufferers out there forever self-conscious about their condition. Way to go, ER.
Luka heaves a sigh and tells Sam that Tamira is struggling up in the OR. "I just called Alex. Took everything I had not to cry," she says, her voice thick. "He accused me of being on my period." Luka laughs that he must be, too, because he almost called Alex himself. That feels forced. Luka then lowers his voice and asks Sam if she's had any time to think about his offer. God, do these people ever wait to have big conversations until they're away from work? Susan butts in here and jovially tells Sam not to cohabitate because it kills the romance: "They're on their best behavior at first, and then, before you know it, they're farting in the kitchen." I hate Susan Lewis: Stereotypical Man Hater. It's annoying. We get it: men are not the same as women. Move on, please, Susan. Sam bursts out laughing to ensure that we'll get more such incisive, witty remarks from Susan in the future. I can't wait for her to reference men scratching themselves, or her no-doubt insightful diatribe on the toilet seat. Sam tells Luka that she broached the subject, but that they need to talk about it a bit more. "Just so you know, I'm not jealous, I'm not crazy, and I won't be farting in the kitchen," he beams at her before strolling away. There's a word I never needed to hear out of him, even with the sexy accent. Indeed, Luka doesn't fart. He just doesn't.
Kali's pressure has plummeted and she's probably bleeding internally. They need to do another transfusion, and Howard is getting the numbers from Abby. He triple-checks with her, raising her ire a great deal because he keeps insisting that she might have transposed something. He yammers on about transfusion reactions while Kali goes into v-fib and starts to code.
Pratt gives Saige a fresh set of scrubs. It's a good thing they apparently had child-sized scrubs lying around. I recently had scrubs in a size small given to me, and the top is still practically a long-sleeved dress, yet this fits Saige like a glove. Pratt is magical. Saige, though, is hanging back, reluctant to go find his mother. "I was scared," he confesses. "I should've done something to stop it." Pratt tries to comfort him. "You're just a kid," he says. "Your father, he's a grown man. There's only so much you can do." Saige trembles as he admits that his father was never actually there. Pratt is understandably startled that the man whose name and spirit have been cursed under their collective breath wasn't actually involved in any of this.
Kali's all but dead. Howard repeats and repeats that they should have re-checked the blood work, and that they should find out if a transfusion reaction caused it. Carter faithfully performs compressions, stopping only for a second when he sees Wendall leading Manic Mom into the room. "You need to be with your daughter now," she quacks. Kali hits asystole; they give her one last shock, and she's gone. Elizabeth stares at Kali in such a way that you can see her broken heart, and Manic Mom realizes that her daughter is dead. The yelp is gutteral, and it's the only instance in which her general overacting actually fits with the emotion of the moment. In fact, this scene is why my initial reaction to this storyline was that it was powerful and well-acted: there is something really chilling and moving in Elizabeth's subtle devastation, and in the fact that everyone in the room is trying to avert their eyes out of respect for private agony, yet no matter where they look they can't completely shut out this woman's grief. Their ache is palpable. It's just one of those bits that catches you by surprise because everyone's expression matches how you probably would feel were you in their shoes. Elizabeth seems especially wet-eyed, and she ends up snapping off her gloves and exiting quickly.
Up in Weaver's office, Elizabeth explains that she got caught up in a trauma. "Good news," Weaver says in the perky tone that always means she's about to deliver a painful blow. "Although certain members lobbied for your dismissal, I crafted a proposal that I think will benefit us all," she says brightly. I love how she handles this -- she lets Elizabeth know that many people wanted her gone, but that Weaver selflessly leapt under the falling axe and kicked the executioner in the groin. Right. I'm so sure. Stone-faced, Elizabeth listens as Weaver proposes that in exchange for not getting her license pulled, Elizabeth will be offered a non-tenure track position as a clinical instructor. Elizabeth picks at her hair. "So after seven years of service, I lose tenure over one patient," she says slowly. Well, you did break the law. They don't bend it just because you've worked there long enough to ride out a streak of bad luck from breaking a mirror. And let's not forget the whole Angel of Death debacle, which went on so long and then died so quickly that it's not even easy to figure out which Season 8 recap to link to here. Weaver is surprised that Elizabeth expected anything other than a sideways move or a demotion. "I thought that I might be appreciated for saving a life. That friends might have fought for me," Elizabeth sniffs, looking down her nose at Weaver because her high horse hasn't ridden in yet so she has to simulate the effect. Weaver insists that she did fight; Elizabeth threatens to go public with the fact that County was willing to let a man die because a bill was signed on a Tuesday rather than a Monday. "We did something extraordinary," Elizabeth says, incensed now. Oh, so now she gives Dubenko's opinion some credit? Convenient. "You're right. We did," Weaver says. "But that's not our purpose." Elizabeth is incredulous as Weaver argues that simply serving the community adequately is their only mandate; Elizabeth sets her jaw in a disbelieving tizzy. Then, suddenly, she grins. And it's obvious now that Alex Kingston only has one scene left to play.
Abby finds Howard in the lounge, cleaning out his locker. He's furious with Abby for stopping him in his hyper-organized tracks. He storms out as she gives chase. "You need help," she insists. Howard rants that they didn't check for a transfusion reaction. Abby: "Nobody did anything wrong, Howard. We didn't kill her. Her father did. And you're not going to get any better unless..." Howard whirls around in triage and screams that he was just being thorough: "Why is that such a problem for you people?" Because it gets in the way of their talking about their personal lives at work, Howard. Come on. Think. Howard flees angrily as Susan creeps up behind Abby. "He has OCD," Abby spits, as though the condition is psychological poison. Again, very sensitive handling of this issue, guys. Really. "Please don't tell me I just lost a doctor," Susan gulps. We fade to black relieved Howard And The Sudden-Onset OCD is finally a distant memory.
Through a window, Abby watches Carter clean off Kali's dead body, and after a moment she enters the room silently. "She would've started kindergarten this year," Carter whispers. "You all right?" Abby asks. "Hanging in there. How about you?" he asks. "Personally or professionally?" Abby hedges. Carter cracks that as an intern, the two are inseparable. Abby takes a deep breath and admits that today was really, really hard. "I can't imagine what it must feel like to lose a child," she says. Carter doesn't really need to be reminded of that again, does he? But he nods and murmurs, "Yeah...Yep." An uncomfortable silence ensues, because once you've invoked the dead baby, you can't really start talking about the pink plaid Nine West pumps you found last weekend. Pratt interrupts the awkwardness by ducking in and telling them that the children's father hasn't been seen in a year because that's how long ago he died. In Carter's brain, a record gets scratched. Confusion dawns on his face.
Susan is frustratedly trying to find somebody to replace Howard. There's one person in the Dominican Republic and one in Milwaukee she can interview, and as she sets this up, Ray trots around making stupid and pointless jokes. I'm not going to bother with the rest because let's face it -- we all know that Susan's going to offer the job to Neela. Sam changes the tone by telling Susan that Tamira died in the operating room. Clunk. We are sad.
Wendall, Carter, and Abby confer about Manic Mom. Apparently the regulars at his favorite bar confirmed that her husband is dead, and Saige filled in the blanks: Manic Mom stopped eating and sleeping, and went off her valium when she ran out of money. They all realize that this means she could have been hallucinating or otherwise altered when the incident happened in her home. Ray calls Abby away, because she has to go apologize for ditching out on her ride-along. Chuny has given Manic Mom her valium, so she should be coming down soon and able to talk about what happened. "If she knows," Carter intones dramatically.
Susan struggles to interview her Spanish-speaking intern candidate, and the other guy who shows up from Milwaukee is scary-looking. And obviously a Satan worshipper, because he would've had to sell his soul to the devil to get to Chicago that fast. He's covered in tattoos and piercings -- he's what they should have made Ray, except then they could have made him shockingly capable, and that might have made Ray interesting. That, and another actor portraying him. Susan smiles through a serious wince as Jerry tries not to laugh delightedly.
Manic Mom has Saige cuddled up on her lap. She's totally calm; a different person. Wendall and Carter -- because he can never resist a chance to whisper urgently at people -- prompt her to remember what happened in her apartment, and we see through a series of flashbacks that indeed there was nobody at the door. Saige was confused the whole time as Manic Mom carried the daughters to the window and coerced them into jumping out of it. We see the reality wash over Manic Mom's face, and she knows she threw her children to their death over something that wasn't even happening. Disturbingly, we see the little girls leap out the window. Carter's face is silently disapproving, and Wendall looks completely stoned. Maybe she borrowed a little of the valium. At the tail end of the tragic sequence, Chuny pokes her head in and tells Carter that Elizabeth asked her to pass on the message that she got her answer.
At the Jumbo Mart, Neela argues with a customer. She's frustrated and cracks to Abby that at least she learned how to clean the hot dog machine, which will be useful to her for the rest of her life. Susan sails in and orders up one large coffee and a first-year resident. "Neela's going through some sort of delayed adolescent rebellion-slash-premature midlife crisis thing," Abby says, biting back a mischievous smile as she reaches for a stone to throw through the only glass wall that's still unbroken in her house. Neela glares at her petulantly. Susan promises that she's scraped the bottom of every barrel, even the ones in -- gasp -- Milwaukee. "I'm desperate for anyone even remotely competent and/or sane," she pleads. Neela purses her lips and shrugs that she's got a job now, so she's really not sure, and anyway, hasn't this storyline been a little rushed? A guy yells at Neela about the spice level of his jalapeños, and shouts that he's tired of her boring confusion and misery, so if we could please pretend all this never happened it would be great. Neela clearly realizes that nothing is worth having to tend to a man's peppers. As Susan's leaving, Neela yells after her, "When do you need me to start?"
Carter meets Elizabeth by the waterfront. "Did you talk to Weaver?" he asks eagerly. Elizabeth shares sadly that the answer was, there's a place for her at County, but only a small one. Carter is genuinely shocked, which...okay, I'm not sure where he gets off, but he's probably just trying to make himself feel less like an ass. He apologizes. Elizabeth is fine with it, though, because it prompted her to quit. "Mark's gone, so many of my friends are gone. There's no reason to stay," she says simply. "Not for me, not for Ella. I suppose I've known that for a long time now, but it's just...it's hard to move on, isn't it? It's hard to close that chapter." Carter -- and Noah Wyle -- both nod with sadness and desperate comprehension. It's like Alex Kingston and the writers are using the lines to urge Noah Wyle to get out while he's still whole, and retaining less water. Elizabeth says she's going to take Ella to England for a while, and asks him to apologize to everyone for the fact that she isn't saying goodbye. "I'm not much for goodbyes," she smiles, eyes moist. "They make me cry, truth be told." Carter nods emotionally and offers to pass along a message to the others. "Tell them..." she begins, then turns to face the camera. "...It's been lovely," she finishes, walking out of the shot. The camera stays on her as she walks up the stairs and out of our lives, and watching her go after an atrocious exit story and a rough few years, this moment would be touching if she weren't wearing freaking horseshoes. Clomp, clomp, clomp, up the stairs she goes. It's hard to feel anything when she sounds like a stable. But I am sad that she's going. Her character went pretty mental for a while there, and then got swept under the rug, but it was never because Alex Kingston was deficient. I hope she goes on to do excellent things.