Elizabeth and Luka examine a twitching Sarah. Lizzie finds a huge scalp laceration that goes straight to the bone; Erin and Abby fill her in on the case's particulars, including that Sarah may have ingested drugs. "Possible brain bleed," Elizabeth gripes. "I just don't understand these girls who take any pill handed to them at a party." Like, say, your stepdaughter. Carter peeks in and asks Elizabeth to witness Alison's DNR; Corday can't be bothered to answer him, so Luka offers to do it while Elizabeth lets Erin intubate. As she encouragingly coaches Erin through the procedure, we see Nathan watching through the glass trauma-room doors. "Excellent," Elizabeth praises Erin, whose grin is as pronounced as Nathan's disappointment.
Jerry offers Abby a two-dollar lottery ticket. "They're a buck across the street," Abby smirks. Jerry grins that those tickets don't have the added bonus of Jerry's patented number-selection system, which, given that he's still playing the lottery, obviously hasn't met with much success yet. As Abby smiles after Jerry, she catches sight of Eric and Jody playing a spirited game of "Tonsil, tonsil, who's got the tonsil?" They are both winning. Or losing, as the case may be. Carter notices them, too, en route to joining Abby at Reception. "Looks like she's feeling better," he giggles. He ribs her about Jody being "almost twenty-one." Abby groans. "He thinks he's in love," she sighs. "Can't have enough love in the world," Carter deadpans. Abby isn't having it. She's humorless. She's bottle-blond, overtanned, and devoid of laughs. Triple whammy. She complains again that Eric just met Jody, because it evidently displeases her that Eric's acting happy and schmoopy. Look, honey, just because you can barely stand to open your lips for your boyfriend doesn't mean other people aren't enjoying the tongue tango, okay?
A cop escorts his partner inside; she's cradling her hand, which was shredded on the glass of her shot-out car window. "She keeps saying it's no big deal," her partner complains. The female cop clutches it good-naturedly and tries not to look alarmed. That's exactly the opposite of how I'd behave. I can't cut my hair without wincing. When I cut myself shaving? Forget it, just put me in the freaking casket. And here's Officer Bravado, whose hand is slashed wide open, and she's all, "Whatever, I'll just take a number and sit here counting my tendons." They should call for a Psych consult. Abby starts to examine it, but Jerry yells that she's late for her meeting with Romano, Weaver, and the nurse director, so she fobs it off on Nathan. Yay! Work it, Nathan, you saucy student you.