Outside the lounge, Sam is zoned out, her head resting against the wall. "Did he seem okay to you?" she asks Luka. "It's really hard, doing it by yourself, you know...I mean, I try...." Sam is apparently a skilled fisherman, because Luka takes the bait and insists that she's doing a great job. Clearly, Sam has no intention of throwing that trout back into the lake. "Sure. That's why everyone says my kid is a freak," Sam scoffs. Well, if it looks like a duck and walks like a duck...Luka can't even deny it: "People talk. So what?" he says. I love him for not lying to her. Luka giggles that he put tweezers into an electrical socket when he was Alex's age, and that he knew better, but that he did it anyway because that's what kids do. Sam frets a tad more. "He'll be fine," Luka says, squeezing her shoulder. His hand lingers there long enough for Sam's eyes to flicker toward it, which of course prompts him to retract his arm and leave, and that sets up the long-awaited wistful glance from Sam -- lest there be any doubt where this is headed.
Pratt wants his regular dose of inane love from Mrs. Webster, especially now that he's totally single and has no prospects for nuzzling, but he can't find her. He learns that it's because she died and is lying on a gurney covered in a sheet. That's...oh, whatever. Pratt lifts back the sheet and stares at Mrs. Webster's dead face. Then he pats her hair affectionately. We fade to black sort of confused that Pratt suddenly has mommy issues.
Carter tosses a basketball through the infamous County hoop just as a rig driver gets out and prepares to unload a patient: sixteen-year-old boy, gunshot wound. "Is he a gang kid?" Carter asks. The medic replies, "What happened to just playing Cops and Robbers?" It went the way of playing doctor. Apparently, another victim is en route. Sam directs Carter to Trauma Two, and Luka sends Sheila and Lester with them, keeping Neela to help him with the next victim. Abby lets Luka know she's there, so he ships her off to help Carter. A little nine-year-old boy is wheeled in, and Neela comforts him. "Don't be scared, David," she says. "Dr. Kovac is one of the best here."
Oppressively tragic music plays as Pratt steels himself to break one more body part of Martin's: his heart. Or his soul, I suppose. Either way, Pratt's all about shattering that poor kid today. With difficulty, he announces that Larry will be just fine, but that they had a problem with Martin's intubation. Martin, currently on a respirator, blinks confusedly. "There was, uh, a problem involving your spinal cord," Pratt begins. "And it seems as though you're going to be paralyzed." Martin's eyes turn red. Pratt opens his mouth to say something else, and then realizes that one can't really go anywhere after that. It's not like he can be like, "But at least the Bulls stopped blowing so hard, huh? Huh?!?" Instead, he watches as a tear slips from the corner of Martin's eye and slowly snakes across his temple.