Inside, Abby chews on her lip and decides it tastes like rebellion, so out she goes. Frank refuses an order to answer the ringing phone, and trots out after them. "We have patients to care for," wheedles Weaver. "He's right, Kerry," Luka says, softly, exiting the building. Weaver is alone, humbled and embarrassed.
An ambulance pulls up outside as Luka wanders toward a giddy, grinning Carter, who looks mighty chuffed at his new superpowers. "Do you have a plan?" Luka wonders. Carter shakes his head, still beaming.
Chen, curled up in a quiet hallway, stares miserably at the floor. Part of her gloom may stem from her shoes, which are quite probably the least sensible shoes in the world for a busy ER doctor -- clunky slides with a chunky three-inch heel. I'd be crying, too. Pratt discovers her while buying candy at the nearby vending machine -- why didn't he go to the one downstairs, which is more convenient? Why, hello, Contrivance! -- and is awash in sympathy and hormones. "Plain or peanut?" he asks. Chen looks up. "M&Ms," he clarifies. She wants nothing, though. "You sure? Chocolate is the universal comfort food," Pratt tantalizes. He sits down next to Chen, and notices her sad silence. Pratt then apologizes for what happened downstairs. "But the guy was a known drughound, and I wasn't going to play his game," Pratt avers, forgetting of course that he did end up playing the game, and he got spanked like a naughty child. He swears he'd never do anything to jeopardize Chen. "Not my future love slave," he promises. Chen snorts. So do I. The Humanization of Pratt continues in earnest when he confesses to being equally scared. "Oh, you were scared?" Chen spits. "I'm the one that almost had a cap busted in my head." Pratt can't bite back a chortle, because she's way too white to pull that off. She gets offended at his giggling, so he pulls a reluctant Chen close and puts an arm around her. "I'm consoling you," he announces. She stiffens, but somehow the pressure of his schnozz against her cheek relaxes Chen, and she falls against him with a hearty sniffle. Pratt kisses her forehead. Tearfully, Chen peers up at him, and there's a brief second where my eyes start to throb because it looks like Pratt's about to get some action. "You finished?" Chen breathes. "Yeah," he husks, all ready to lean in for some sugar. "Plain," Chen says. "I want plain M&Ms." Pratt brandishes the packet he already bought, and Chen grins, swipes them, and smacks him gently in the forehead.