Carter shuffles brokenly into Ike Ryan's. At least, I assume that's what it is. The bartender recognizes him and offers to get him an iced coffee and a BLT, per usual, right away. But as the camera pushes slowly on Carter, we notice that the bartender doesn't, in fact, move at all. "Maybe something else today," Carter says, his voice husky. We fade to black wondering if this is a restaurant-slash-brothel.
Abby's patient has been out cold for forty-two minutes. There is beeping. She asks Flapper if he'd like to move into the spotlight and deliver any touching words that might net him another acting job. Flapper steps forward into a beam of angelic light, and sappy music swells behind him as he begins his monologue. First he theatrically rests his palm on his dead buddy's chest. "Thank you," he whispers, a sappy smile on his face. "You made me strong. Helped me see who I was." Flapper makes himself glow with what he imagines is grace of spirit. "And...to know that it was okay," he concludes. His face shines with the importance of his statement. The friend responds by dying. Abby stares at her ex-patient's face as Sam carts Flapper off to give a statement to the police. The camera stays on Abby but Flapper seems intent on milking this storyline for all the meaning he can give it. So, off-camera, we hear him say, "I didn't know I was gay until they became my friends." Abby pouts, and Flapper has flapped his wings for the last time. Thank God. That kid was a massive overactor.
Rather than clean up her corpse, Abby flounces into Trauma Green to complain to Luka. "My guy died," she spits. "Can you throw in a femoral line?" Luka asks her, ignoring the sympathy play. Abby scowls at him and brats that she could've used a little help in there. Leaving Zach to be treated by whom? Sam? An animate scalpel? A particularly audacious set of paddles? Abby steps into Luka's trauma and notes muffled heart sounds. They hand her a pericardiocentesis needle. "Angle the needle," Luka says. "I know," Abby grouches. Okay, fine, Little Miss I Just Killed My Patient. Next time don't come in whingeing about the sad dead man who could've benefited from someone else's aid. Abby here does a fine job and Zach's pulse returns. "Good job, Abby," Chuny says, putting in place the final brick in their bridge to reconciliation. Yawn. That was quick. Come to think of it, Luka probably said the same thing to her after they slept together. (Rimshot!)
Elizabeth makes her token appearance to cart the kid up to the OR. Wow, they really are not throwing Alex Kingston any bones before she takes off, are they? As they wheel Zach away, Abby and Luka are left to rip off their gloves and heave huge sighs. "You left me alone in there," she accuses. Luka apparently has to explain to Abby the whole concept of "two patients, two doctors, too obvious." Abby bitches that a week ago she had to get approval for everything she did, and now she's suddenly autonomous. Life's a bitch, Abby. That's why you took licensing boards. (Twice.) Luka shrugs, "Welcome to internship." Abby rants that she was tentative and asking the nurses for advice. "They respect that openness," Luka says. "No they don't," Abby spits. "You always did," he levels her. Abby wails that the kid is dead and she doesn't think he had the best possible care. Will Abby ever win? She's Ziggy in her own mind, I swear. Luka finally spins around and says that, yeah, they gave the best possible care to the one they thought they could save, and the second best care to Abby's guy. This rubs her the wrong way as well -- she goes from thinking she's the worst doctor in history to bristling that she was set up to fail. "No, HE never had a chance," Luka says. "You'll have another one sooner than you want -- fifteen minutes, an hour, tomorrow maybe." Abby sulks in the wake of this honesty. I'm surprised she never stopped to consider how they assign traumas.