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.