Anyway, Mr. L can't decide whether to go with "you're right" or "you're crazy," so he makes a weird gesture with his head that sort of splits the difference as Jen adds, "But you were careless." He'd left the bedroom door open, and Jen could see in through the door from the hallway. Mr. L gets to his feet, telling Jen that she "need[s] some help" and asking if she's "talked to anyone? About this?" It sounds more like he's trying to discern whether Jen's ratted him out to anyone "important" than like he's asking whether she's in therapy, which figures, given his jackassery in the episode -- and the series -- thus far. Jen doesn't respond, numbly telling him that she backed down the hall and went downstairs and disappeared "in a big crowd" on Fifth Avenue. She heaves a sigh: "It was after that that things started to get really bad, didn't they?" Mr. L just stares at her in patent dismay before muttering angrily that Jen has "imagined in very great detail" something that never happened "a very long time ago." Jen shakes her head at him and weeps, "Dad, who are you?" Shawshank-esque piano music plays as Mr. L pauses; the question seems to hit him where he lives, because his mouth moves but no sound comes out. Finally, he manages, "I'm your father." Jen's face works as she struggles to say, "You knew…didn't you?" Mr. L blinks guiltily in answer. "Oh god, all this time -- my life got uglier and messier, and then you sent me away -- you made me feel ashamed -- you, you punished me for all these things that were beyond my control," Jen cries, then gets a grip on herself and says in a more level tone, "You saw me standing in the doorway. And you never said anything." Mr. L, staring down like he doesn't care anymore, says half-heartedly, "I wasn't -- I didn't…" Jen cuts him off, saying she doesn't want a confession or an apology, and she doesn't have to forgive him: "All I have to do…is forgive myself, for these things that I can't change." She heaves another sigh and says, more evenly, "Goodbye, Daddy," while Mr. L stares at her, now fearfully. He starts to say something, then thinks better of it. That scene proved nothing and came as something of an anticlimax, but Michelle Williams acted the pants off of it.
Fade to Pacey sulking in the back of a patrol car. Pan across Drue hurling theatrically and over to an annoyed Doug "Flutie" Witter pulling up in a squad car. The other patrolman informs Doug that they picked up Drue and Pacey "for drunk-and-disorderly -- you know the drill," and Doug rolls his eyes and gestures at Pacey. Drue barfs some more. Pacey heaves himself out of the car and walks slowly over to Doug, wearing a stern don't-even-start-with-me expression, and Drue trails nauseatedly along behind. Pacey, flatly: "So what're you gonna do, Doug, arrest me?" "I should," Doug says sadly. "More, I'm just curious." "About what?" Pacey grunts. Doug snaps, "You're not satisfied with being a moron and failure, you've gotta add 'drunk' to your list of credentials?" Okay, that's harsh, and not what Pacey needs right now, but in Doug's defense, I think he just doesn't know what to say to Pacey that would help, so he defaulted to dick-older-brother mode. Pacey isn't as sanguine, though, sputtering, "What?" before lunging at Doug and grabbing him by the shirtfront. Drue starts forward, but Doug holds up a hand and warns him away as Pacey yells, "This is it for me! This is my life right here! This is all I get!" "Pacey," Doug whispers, trying to collar him around the neck and hug him, but Pacey snarls, "Get offa me!" and glares at Doug before stomping off all tousled. Drue covers his mouth with his hand and looks between Pacey and Doug sadly; focus pull to Doug looking remorseful.