Trauma room. Corday yells, "GLOVES!" Jesse is still going bad. The bullet tore a crucial membrane. The heart isn't filling. Peter calls for ice to pack Jesse's head to preserve brain function. Mark yells at Dave to do it. There's blood everywhere. Cleo stands nearby, staring dully at the table. I could have just written "staring" there and gotten the job done, I suppose, but the script probably called for "dully." Anyway, the trauma proceeds apace.

We cut to the lake and Abby filling Carter in on her family history: her mother used to sell cosmetics; her father left when Abby was seven because "he couldn't take it." Sally's an artist, Abby says, and "it was fun, actually" when Sally got manic during Abby's childhood, because they did stuff like camping out in the living room and painting the walls with murals. But then Sally would freak out and start screaming and crying, and Abby's brother Eric got the worst of that. Carter nods and occasionally puts a word in. Eric lives in Florida, and he's an air-traffic controller in the Air Force. So both of Sally's kids work in high-pressure, chaotic environments. Did you get that? Because my ass got it, I assure you. Abby's beeper goes off. She checks it, puts it away, and goes on to say that the manic episodes led to depressive episodes, during which Sally would take to her bed for weeks at a time, leaving Abby to "scam meals off the neighbors" so that she and Eric could eat. Carter suggests getting Sally some help, giving her meds or something, but Abby just shakes her head: "No, she won't take the drugs, she likes it...when she's manic." She looks down, burying her chin in her coat, then looks up at Carter: "I can't do this again." Carter regards her gently as she shakes her head again. "I'm not strong enough." She stares out at the lake.

Cleo comes out to talk to Jackie. Peter's in with Jesse now; Jesse got shot in the chest; they found bleeding around his heart. "His heart?" Jackie breathes. MS Bad News runs: "His condition is very grave. They're working to stabilize him so they can move him to the OR." "Ohhh Lord," Jackie sighs, starts to cry, then stops herself. Cleo asks, with a reasonable amount of sincerity, if she can get Jackie anything. Jackie says no, she has to call Walt again. Walt? Will we actually see Walt? I miss Walt, I don't mind telling you. ["'Walt' was busy playing Johnnie Cochran in a TV movie this week, unfortunately." -- Wing Chun] Anyway, Jackie gets up to phone Walt's auto-body shop, but a girl in braids stops her: "Mrs. Robbins?" Jackie looks her over. I can't even describe how, but if you've seen Jackie for thirty seconds on this show, I don't need to. And that's why Jackie is my girlfriend. "Is Jesse okay?" Braids asks tearfully. Jackie snaps, "Get out." Braids, in a broken voice: "Is he ah-ight?" Jackie points at her and says in a low, chilling voice, "You don't get to be here." "Please," Braids pleads, but Jackie isn't buying what she's selling. "Get out," she snaps again, then screams, "GET OUT!" Braids's lip trembles, but Jackie's not done: "I don't want you here. You get away from him, you STAY AWAY FROM my son." Braids backs away, crying; her posse of friends follows her, glaring at Jackie. Jackie in turn glares at them and covers her mouth; then she makes a "yeah, you'd better" gesture with her head. God, I love Jackie. Jackie stalks off to call Walt. Cleo watches her go, probably wondering how she can FTP Jackie 1.0 to her hard drive. I watch her go and wonder when the brain trust at NBC will finally give Jackie and Haleh a spin-off. Girl, Don't Even: every week, another foot in the ass. I would watch every week. I would tape every episode and save it. They could have Grams from Dawson's on as a special guest star. Sigh.