Neela admits that she can't stop thinking about Gallant. "Nothing wrong with that," Pratt grins, amused. Neela asks if there's any message Pratt wants to send to Gallant. "Tell him to hurry up and get his ass back here in one piece," Pratt says airily, heading back inside. "I'm tired of waiting for my rematch." Neela smiles fondly after him, probably because she's got Gallant on the brain and not because she harbors any particular affection for Pratt, because...wow, Heaven help her if that came to pass. "Pratt says he misses you," Neela says as we fade to black.
Gallant and his mustache go about their shared daily life. Gallant comments to Neela in his letter that, even over there, in something so big, the small stuff can knock people out. Like, say, stray pieces of food stuck in the massive hair trap that is your upper lip, eh, Gallant? I guess he's specifically referring to the mess officers, who caught a virus and are all wiped, contrasted with Perry and his lost leg. The kid is lying bitterly in his bed. Gallant asks if he can get him anything. "The hell out of here?" spits Perry. Gallant is taken aback. To Neela he observes that it's hard to see the young kids get dismembered, or the reservists who never thought they'd see action at all, but who showed up as requested and kept getting their tours extended. GVO: "A weekend a month, my ass."
Then we're treated to the gang unloading supplies from vans. Gallant is buddies with a driver named Jackson, who affectionately calls our boy "Chicago" and asks for news on the Bulls. "Flirting with .500," Gallant says ruefully. "Think Jordan's got one more comeback?" Jackson teases. A guy who wants quick help for a scorpion bite corrals Gallant and Whitley. She's all, "Um, scorpions?" Yes, dear. You're in the desert. Try to keep up. I feel like she is to this episode what Carter was to the Africa series. And Gallant is the Luka -- expert, caring, accustomed, adorable. Mmm.
Rosales and Neela wander through the lobby as he peers with disbelief at Triage, which is clogged beyond belief. "Is it always like this?" he gapes. Neela gives him a "sassy" answer that is long and winding and uttered at light speed, basically likening this backlog to "Hell frozen over," except that would imply it never gets like this, but it does, so...it would appear my issues with this show are alive and well. Neela and Rosales treat a woman with scabies, and then she checks in on a kid with vomiting and diarrhea, and my goodness, he doesn't barf all over himself! Maybe hell has frozen over. Bizarro ER, I'm telling you. As she deals with the mundane, Neela voices-over in her Gallant letter, "I know I shouldn't complain to you. My troubles seem pretty minor. But I spend 99% of the time waiting for the 1% where I feel like I make a difference." Frank bogs Neela down with the order from Susan that they start dispo-ing people from Triage. Neela mutters, "We're on it." Dear TPTB: Please cheer up Neela. Having someone shuffle her way through life in perpetual ennui is really not that interesting week after week after week. She's a televisual yawn.