Ceiling fan. Baron von Yellowbeard lies on the bed and stares up at the rotating fan, gulping. More fan shots. It's Mark's one and only fan. Slowly, he struggles onto his right side and grips the mattress tightly with his left hand. Using that as leverage, Mark scoots himself to the edge of the bed and eases himself into a seated position, using his left hand to put his right leg where he wants it to be. Mark massages his limp right hand, then tensely and gingerly puts weight on his left leg. With difficulty, he stands; when he tries to take a step with his useless right leg, though, Mark collapses against the floor and bed. It's a nasty position, and it makes a noisy thud on the wood floor. Nobody comes running. Wincing and panting, Mark slides fully onto the floor and tries to swallow his frustration. He can't. "Shit!" he finally screams, banging the floor with his good hand. That screeching sound you hear is the network censor speeding away in a brand-new Jag. Shoving himself upright, Mark moves his right leg so that it's parallel to his left, and he sits against the bed trying to regain composure. Anthony Edwards does a pretty good job in this scene. And yes, at this point, Satan's nipples are officially hard as steel. We fade to black still a bit startled at the expletive, and wondering if Stephen Bochco would be jealous.
Elizabeth helps a coughing Mark down to a chair in the garden, from which he can gaze at the beach. "I'm a bit worried about that cough," she begins, pressing him to visit a hospital. Mark cracks that pneumonia isn't such a bad way to go. He's the master of gallows humor, that one. Elizabeth feigns amusement and plops down next to him in a chair. "Where's Rachel?" pants Mark, and we notice that his right eyeglass lens is covered with gauze. Elizabeth reveals that Rachel is with Kai. "They're spending a great deal of time together," she observes. Mark calls Kai a nice kid. "So you're not worried...about what they might be doing with all that time?" Elizabeth asks, eyebrows cocked. Mark, far from worrying, actually thinks it's marvelous, because Rachel has shown so much good judgment about what she puts in her mouth.
Awkwardly, Mark turns to his wife and quietly asks her to do him a difficult favor. "I want to write letters to Rachel and Ella," he explains. "I tried to do it myself, but I can't read my own writing now." That explains the identical penmanship between his portion of The Letter and Elizabeth's. She looks sad as Mark lists the occasions he'll miss -- weddings, graduations -- and grieves for her right hand, which will soon be a cramped claw from writing out cliché upon cliché for every conceivable occasion. "You think that's cruel?" Mark wonders. "Reaching out from beyond the grave on days that they should be happy?" Elizabeth swallows tears. "I think they'll cherish every single word," she chokes. Mark gazes at her apologetically. "I told you it might be hard," he says gently. "I'm okay," Elizabeth swears, her eyes moist but her voice resolute. She stares at the ocean while Mark smiles wanly at her. Interestingly, they sliced out Ella taking her first steps for Mark, and Mark telling Elizabeth he wants her to remarry after his death. Those two scenes were either teased or listed in the Spoilers thread on the forums, and frankly, I'm sort of glad they spared us the awkwardness of Mark asking Elizabeth to move on and not mourn him forever, and Elizabeth laughing and laughing, and laughing some more, and then starting to laugh.