Jackson is struggling. His belly is blue and his lungs are filling with blood. He has no pulse. I know it's been a while, but I believe I remember enough to know that these are bad things.
Cut to Neela and Bret, as she's charmed by his urban legend about blues musician Robert Jackson. She admires Bret's passion about his art. He's surprised she doesn't feel that way about her work, since he's in awe of it. Neela waves off her moment of introspection. "All I meant was..." Bret begins, taking their drinks and putting them down on the table, using Gallant's letter as a coaster. "...You seem pretty passionate to me." He and Neela lean in slowly and begin kissing, and then sure enough he backs her down onto the couch. I'm torn. He's a decent booty call, but Gallant is Gallant, although he did puss out of doing anything with Neela when he was around... Still, I'm rooting for him. Can't help it. Damn you, show. I'm right where you want me.
Gallant compresses Jackson's chest while Neela and Bret make out and breathe heavily. Jackson hits asystole. "You can't reverse this," Crabby tells a desperate Gallant just as Neela and Bret start to take it a step further with unbuttoned shirts and breast smooches. She's just lying there letting him go for it. But as Gallant tries one more time to save his friend, Crabby calls out, "Dr. Gallant," yet we hear that over a shot of Neela's face. Her eyes fly open and she looks thoughtful. Then she giggles. Just as Jackson is, for all intents and purposes, dead, Neela puts on the brakes and sits up. She attempts a metaphor in which she basically calls Bret a wee Band-Aid that can only thinly, temporarily, patch up the gaping hole that's been left in her life. And if she stays out there with him, she won't be able to take it back -- or, reverse it, to use the parallel dialogue from Gallant's world. Bret's a little wounded that Neela likened him to a tiny weak plaster. "I'm in a weird place," she explains. "And I don't want to do something just because I'm lonely." Bret considers companionship to be a spectacular cure for loneliness, and Neela cocks her head. "That is so totally reasonable," she says happily. Then she gets up, retrieves Gallant's letter, and carries it into her bedroom. Alone.
Gallant watches them load Jamila into the copter that will ferry her to a transport plane. But the pilot is vexed that she's not stable enough to make the trip. Gallant argues with him desperately. "Sir, you're not the one who'd be coding her at five thousand feet," the pilot says plainly. Gallant is crushed until Crabby pipes up, "Would you take her if a doctor went?" He looks pointedly at his charge. His book told him that, if encouraging the eager leads to accidental results, you have to run with it and pretend you secretly believed in him all along. "You've got seventy-two hours, son," Crabby says. "Get her there." Gallant is thrilled that his Crabby boss has the stereotypical Crabby Boss Heart Of Gold. Lili watches him leave with open admiration, and probably more than a little sexual frustration. Gallant salutes enthusiastically and boards the chopper.