Felix anxiously asks whether Elena has called. Gallant sadly informs him that she has not; Felix is pretty sure this means she isn't going to call. But at least he's starting to see shapes. "You get my peepers going, I'll be fine," he says morosely. Gallant backs into the subject of the Quinine and whether Felix would've had access to it; Felix plays dumb until Gallant points out that Quinine can induce blindness if taken in huge doses. Defensively, Felix lies that they probably just overdosed him when he was overseas, but unfortunately, Gallant's trained in medicine and so he can identify horseshit when he sees it. "Would've been something you ingested in the last twelve hours," Gallant says gently. He prods Felix into admitting what happened; there's a lengthy bit where Gallant tries to bond with him about how hard it is being in the military, going away from your family for such long periods, and hoping everything will pick up where it left off when you get home. "It's easy to forget that life keeps going, sometimes without you," Gallant muses. Felix finally admits that Elena must've gotten tired of waiting for him. "Just fix me up, okay?" he whispers sadly. "Just fix it." Gallant nods and offers to bring down someone from Psych, but Felix desperately begs him not to because it will jeopardize all he has left: his military career. He and Gallant swap intense eye contact, made even more impressive by the fact that, technically, Felix can't see Gallant's eyes and wouldn't know where they would be. "It was a split second," he wheedles. "Please." Now he's staring right through Gallant, like he just remembered he's blind. Gallant awkwardly clears his throat and offers to set him up at another clinic that can give him counseling without it going on his medical record. "I'll follow it up," he warns. "You won't have to," promises Felix gratefully. "I'll be okay this time." Gallant picks up on the hollowness of that statement and gazes somberly at his patient.
Marlene wants to know if Abby's fish have croaked yet. "I'm much better with human patients," Abby grins. "You must not be a Pisces," Marlene jokes. Abby threatens her with the dark promise of a meatloaf lunch. Apparently, hospital meatloaf is an object inspiring a great deal of fear and loathing. When Luka enters the room, Ho Mommy brightens considerably and thrusts her chest ever so slightly forward. She does, really. "I was wondering where you were," she hos. Luka looks hot, but uncomfortable. He doesn't pull punches, either: Marlene's test results show chronic renal failure. Abby's ears perk up at this and she listens. Ho Mommy is stunned. Luka adds that they need to take an ultrasound of the kidneys to better understand the extend of the problem. Ho Mommy is still stunned. Marlene is handling it like a champ; Abby promises her that it's fast, easy, and painless to take photos of her liver, plus they come with forty-eight free wallet-size copies. Ho Mommy? Ho stunned. "I thought it was just an infection," she stammers. "That's what we were hoping for," Luka says quietly. Abby wheels Marlene around, reiterating how painless this will be. "As long as I'm not a fish," Marlene grins. "Mom, don't forget to call Dad." Abby takes her for a spin down the hall, leaving Luka with Ho Mommy. "Should I be scared?" Ho Mommy trembles. "Won't make it any easier," Luka says. Ho Mommy blinks back her ho tears and ho trots out of the room.