Benton passes through the desk in his coat; Frank tells him he should wait, since a fresh trauma's coming in, and Benton tells him to page Elizabeth. Carter, hunched over at a computer, asks if Benton's "late for something," and Benton says he is, and books. Oh, God. Not FinchBot 3000 again. Lisa, also at the desk, shuffles through some papers, and Frank tells her he's sorry about her patient. Lisa says, "What patient?" and Frank says he's referring to the "belly tap in curtain 3," who "expired." Lisa wonders rhetorically why no one told her about it, and takes off to investigate. Kerry Weaver "2000: For your 2000 body parts" crutches in from the ambulance bay, accompanying a gurney containing the psych-patient would-be suicide, who needs a chest tube, among other things. As the gurney passes the desk, Frank offers to help, and Weaver politely declines, and quietly asks Mark, "What's Frank doing here?" Mark says it's a "long story." Carter crutches along behind, and Weaver asks how he's doing; he winces, and says he's fine. Weaver asks for the background, diagnoses broken ribs, calls for X-rays, yada.

Chen appears in the hallway, calling Frank's name, and finds him back on the floor, out cold. He's breathing and has a good pulse; Chen supposes that he "vaso-vagalled." He's still hot, though.

Carter crutches in to the trauma room as Weaver and Mark work on the attempted suicide. He totally has gloves on the hands propelling his crutches, as if that's sterile. Anyway, he asks if he can help, and Mark tells him they're okay. Carol offers to let him "run the hemocue." Playing Mom against Dad, Carter asks Weaver if he can help her "up there," and she repeats Carol's instruction. Yosh calls Carol to the phone; the baby's crying again, like, fire the crappy nanny already, good God! Carol asks Yosh to take over for her, picks up the phone and proceeds to sing "I Can't Give You Anything But Love." On the phone. To a baby. With a trauma underway not two feet away from her. Okay, Weaver did tell her to take the phone, but still. As Carol's rather tuneless voice drones on in the background, and Mark and Weaver toil over the patient, Mark glances through the glass to the next trauma room, where fluid is draining out of Holling's lungs. He pauses, stricken, then returns to his own patient.