Colin’s gurney arrives downstairs, and his fiancée notices. “Colin, can you hear me?” she shrieks, sprinting to his side. “Can I ride with him?” Colin shoots her a “What the fuck, Chuck?” look and sputters, “Get her the hell away from me. She’s not my fiancée, she’s freaking psycho!” Gallant restrains her as she wails, “We’re soulmates!” I knew it. I knew the day would come when Dawson’s Creek drove the youth of America irretrievably insane. People besides Sars and Jessica, that is. Colin screams that she ran him off the road and into a bus. “I was upset, but I’m not now,” she says by way of apology. “I’ll take care of you!” Gallant just stares at her.
Weaver tracks down the chopper pilot and asks how bad Romano really is. He gulps. “Bad,” he breathes. She stops walking and briefly lets sadness seep into her eyes.
Pratt returns, armed with four units of O-negative. The doctors agree that the chopper did a gorgeous job – really lovely and clean – of disarming the Rocket. Suddenly, Chen freaks. “I think I lost a pulse,” she says. Luka stares at her. “Either you did or you didn’t,” he says flatly. Hee. “I can’t feel it,” she panics. Can somebody give her a hand? Luka calls for immediate CPR as Pratt administers the first two units of blood.
The elevator doors open again. Susan is inside with a crashing Monty, whose machines have been beeping his demise for so long that they’ve actually started to the tune of “Sunrise, Sunset.” Susan is sweating. “I need help in here!” she screams into the empty hall. Frustrated, she jams the door open, hits the alarm bell, and bolts into the hall to find a crash cart. Successful, she wheels it back into the elevator and hooks him up to it. A sudden flash of inspiration guides her to the emergency phone, which she grabs, fervently willing somebody to answer her pleas for help.
Dr. Anspaugh (All hail the man!) greets Weaver outside. “He walked into the tail rotor?” Anspaugh asks, dumbfounded. See? He thinks this was a cheap chop, too. Anspaugh brought along an arm specialist, Joe Gunn, who sounds like he should be an NFL quarterback and a dangerous ladies’ man packing a gun of another kind. The men charge into the hospital importantly, while Gallant scampers up – as he’s apparently wont to do; he’s been scampering all over the place this whole time – and frantically babbles that Susan’s in the elevator with a crashing patient and no help. He takes off to help her before Weaver can even shout, “Take off and help her.” Or, “Get stuffed and stay here.” Who can say, really.