The H-plot (as it is literally the eighth most important story line in this episode. It's tied with a lot of other ones, though) arc introduced previously actually resolves itself: the medic who wanted a soda? Is getting a soda. What a show. He stands in a desolate hallway as scary music plays and faux-artsy angles come from cameras positioned in places as creative as a surveillance mirror mounted above the machine. As he presses the button on the machine to order up a nice, refreshing Haunted Cola, he is interrupted by the sudden appearance of a Tangential Character Engaged In Quirky Doings. It's an old man in a ratty brown suit who just appears from seeming nowhere, asking the medic, "Tell me where they took the children." Startled, the medic replies that he doesn't work here, but that "Pete's" is on seven. What a clever nickname for pediatrics. Dramatically ill children need a kitschy nickname. The old man ambles slowly away, and the medic stares from the soda machine practically into the camera, as if he's about to tell us that we've entered a dimension of sound, a dimension of sight, a dimension of generically spooky aesthetic derivativeness so acute it has to be hospitalized.
The Klingerman girl, seventy years younger than her name indicates and much crappier at bridge, sits in a corner and rocks back and forth. Advance cue-bid, Klingerman. Advance cue-bid!
Genre-mixing, doctor-y mumbo-jumbo abounds as The Guy Who Hit The Guy Who Isn't Stephen King is wheeled into ICU. A younger attending nurse (or maybe medical student…I don't judge) fumbles with a needle and ends up with face full of blood. As she swoons and passes out, we pan to the window of the room to find a curious dead girl looking in. She wonders where her twin sister is, so that they might suggest to Danny that they go somewhere and play.
"I don't want to put him in with Hook's patient, but right now it's the only spot it ICU we've got," one of the doctors skywrites across the heavens, lest the mutant mole people and halfwits they think make up their audience not notice said occasion when this actually, y'know, occasions. Tsk tsk. Show, don't tell, Mr. King.
Just so you're aware of it? Diane Ladd and Diane Lane? Are two unbelievably different people. I'm just telling you this, PSA-style, in case you thought they were the same person and were extremely disappointed to find out that the one you thought might be on this show was, in fact, not. But then again, anyone who appeared on an episode of Battle of the Network Stars is good enough for me. This Diane, who is not now and never has been in A Walk on the Moon, rearranges chairs in an empty solarium and places a sheer red cloth over a lamp to up the inherent spooky factor of a solarium that is already, I don't think I need to tell you, 75 percent haunted with a lingering chance of ghooooooosts. Made brave from the sugar rush of a real live big-boy prune Danish, the younger Druse tells his blankly-staring, Moonie-smiling mother, "Mama, this isn't a good idea. Not with that Dr. Stegman mad at you." Diane Not Lane just laughs and laughs, because a thimble of crazy equals a whole truckload of actual characteristics, according to The Quirky Television Programming Code.