A paramedic gives Carter and Abby the bullet on a woman caught in the fire: she jumped from the building holding her daughter, breaking the fall with her own body. "And my legs," moans the woman. Carter assesses that she's got a deformity in her right tib-fib; a fireman limps around the ambulance and promises that he took the woman's daughter -- Eden -- inside, and she's going to be okay. "I'm sorry, I know you wanted me to wait," the mother wails. "Everyone is safe," babbles the fireman. Abby grabs him. "Lean on me," she says. Wrapping an arm around his waist, she props him up, her head fitting right into his armpit for a convenient sweat-shampoo. "I don't want to crush you," he says, favoring one ankle. "That's okay, I'm used to it," Abby metas.
Inside, Neecole beams angelically at Dr. Luka "Eats Like a Meal" Kovac, as though he's a baguette and she's Camembert that's ripe for the spreading. "How is it so far?" he asks, genially. "Great," she enthuses. "Everyone is great." Frank passes, reluctantly griping, "Yeah, we like her." Neecole sweetly frets that she keeps getting lost. Damn woman manages to make everything sound lovely and pleasant. She could be saying, "I think Croatia is an accident," and Luka would find it charming. For that reason, I distrust her immensely. Luka encourages her to ask for help if she needs it. "I need some help," Abby snipes from the fireman's armpit, struggling inside with him hanging on her shoulder. Luka shoves himself under the fireman's other armpit, calling out a lunch invitation to Neecole. "You're busy!" she protests. "NO!" Luka responds too quickly, demanding that she find him at 1:30. Fireman Bob explains that he was halfway up the ladder to save Eden and her mother, but the woman panicked and jumped and they all fell down. "Can you bear weight on it at all?" Luka asks. Fireman Bob just wants some ice for it. Luka notices a few minor burns on the man's hand and decides to treat both them and the wounded ankle. Abby smirks that she might have to call Central Supply in order to get fiberglass. Luka looks guilty. "I was going to tell you," he apologizes. "Ow," explains Fireman Bob. "You thought firefighters were tough, right?" he flirts to Abby, who smiles that his secret's safe with her. Luka watches, blatantly wondering if Fireman Bob will be putting out a fire in her loins later that night.
Mark examines Eden in the green trauma room, calling for a c-spine along with chest and pelvis x-rays. We follow Conni into Mama Eden's room -- I'll call her Eve, just to be Biblical about it. Carter is tending to Eve. "Is that my daughter?" she asks, having caught a glimpse through the swinging doors. "Is something wrong?" Carter soothes her, but asks Conni to send in Dr. Greene when he has a free moment. Elizabeth bursts in, with Carmen in tow, and asks for the rundown. "Two-storey fall without LOC," Carter explains. "Multiple fractures. Who's this?" Elizabeth calmly says, "This is Carmen," as though it's the most natural thing in the world to have a leech. Elizabeth examines Eve's pupils, then orders up an ultrasound to check for internal injuries. Mark appears and comforts Eve with word that her child just scraped herself up and inhaled some smoke, but is otherwise fine. Carmen desperately tries to get a good view of the action. Elizabeth starts to examine Eve, but Carmen stops her. "You haven't cleaned your stethoscope," she notes. She's so distracting. Shouldn't that be against some kind of hospital policy that protects doctors from too many diversions? I guess that sounds like kind of a stupid rule, but I feel like it makes sense. I'd be pissed if my doctor let me bleed out on the table while she argued with Carmen about Lysoling her stethoscope. Malik and Carter exchange a "what the fuck?" look while Elizabeth holds her stethoscope in front of Carmen's face and scrubs it crabbily. During all this, Mark shares that Eden is sad that her dog ran away. Elizabeth grabs Mark and escorts him outside for a confab, telling Carter to start the ultrasound and longing to tell him to suture Carmen to some remote fencepost.