Luka discharges Ricky. "Later, I guess," Ricky says, unconcerned. "She's pregnant," Luka calls out to him. Ricky stops. "Who?" he says dumbly. "Your girlfriend," Luka says. "I told you she's not my girlfriend," Ricky protests, still not turning to look at Luka. "Whoever she is to you, she's carrying your baby," Luka snaps. "Why don't you care?" Ricky snorts, "Why do you?" He leaves Luka alone to contemplate the demise of the nuclear family, which displeases Luka quite a bit. He storms off in a dark rage and a cloud of testosterone, breezing past Tammy, whose sensors recognize the presence of The Sexy and cause her to ogle him curiously. Oh boy. I have a bad feeling about this.
Carter, Pratt, and Abby continue trying to revive Pa. Dr. Kayson comes down from cardiology and gets the bullet. "How about TNK?" Carter asks. "He sure isn't going to make it to the cath lab," nods Kayson. Pratt decides to argue this, because he's really, really stupid. "I've been compressing for ten minutes," Pratt says. "He'll bleed out with thrombolytics." Kayson stares him down. "Who's talking?" he asks. "Pratt. First-year resident," Carter explains quietly. "Then shut up," Kayson spits. Bravo. It's about time. Pratt looks to Carter for backup; Carter quietly says that the incompatibility between CPR and thrombolytics is a long-debunked myth, and shoots a firm warning glare at Pratt's gaping mouth. They charge up the paddles again and continue to zap Pa's heart.
Malik lets Susan know that a load of drunk adults are coming in from Lake Michigan. She exhales tiredly. "Is it too late to go into dermatology?" she wonders. Just then, a pleasant, gray-haired guy enters and identifies himself as Sasha's father. He's the actor who played Marty McFly's older brother, Dave. Yay Dave! ["Ah. To me, he's the cute across-the-street neighbour Boris from Freaky Friday." -- Wing Chun] Susan's eyes widen with recognition. "Yeah, yeah," she nods. "I'll check on her for you. Wait there." She leaves in a hurry and rushes through the hallway to locate Elizabeth. "Can we talk?" Susan begs. "I'm on my way to the OR for a bowel reconstruction," Elizabeth warns coldly. Hell, no wonder she's a chapped wench. I'd be crabby, too, if my job was stitching intestines back together. Susan awkwardly explains that Dave is there, asking about Sasha, and offers to handle giving him condolences. "Why would I want that?" Elizabeth says. "What's his name?" Susan tells her and begins to point him out, but Elizabeth whirls on her heel. "I'll find him," she says, exiting.