Out in the sandbox, C-Note's telling someone he appreciates their business, and promises to deliver whatever it is he'll have by next week. He keeps walking through the prison, but his rounds are interrupted by the raw screams of someone being tortured. C-Note heads down the hall and sees a prisoner restrained in a chair, bucking against his bonds as he writhes in agony. To C-Note's credit, he looks completely taken aback.
Back in the States, Michael is brooding in his office of the future. We see him reviewing Linc's case notes, and as he goes to put the folder in his desk drawer, he sees a brown paper origami crane. The case folder stays out.
It's a sunny afternoon in a pretty Chicago neighborhood, and Dr. Sara is walking with her boyfriend, whom I will dub Sid. "I got you a gift from the hospital," she intones each time she hands over another bottle of morphine. Okay, here I am suspending my incredulity over the prospect of anyone just waltzing out of a hospital dispensary with four bottles of liquid morphine. However, I am still boggled that her idea of "Hey, you! Thanks for being you!" gift is a big ol' load of dope. What will Dr. Sara get Sid for Christmas? A lump of black-tar heroin the size of a bowling ball? Several acres of opium poppies in Afghanistan?
He says happily, "It's like Christmas and you work at the North Pole." Dr. Sara begins listing all the crap that goes down at the North Pole -- gun shot wounds, et cetera -- and Sid says, "I don't know how you work there." You may not have to be stoned to the gills, but it helps, I guess. It also helps when dealing with either of these two; they're both very, very high. Dr. Sara insists, "I like to help people," and some kid goes by on his bike. Sid tells her, "You like helping yourself. And you like helping your friends." What, like there's no altruistic doctor junkies around? Is that the message here? Dr. Sara and Sid mack for a while, and as they're kissing, we hear a horn, the screech of tires on an icy street, and the dread thud of a body hitting a car bumper. This penetrates the fog of hormones and heroin enveloping Dr. Sara, and she looks up. She walks over slowly, intoning, "Oh my God," over and over. A crowd's gathering around the kid, all trying to act quickly, and we get the junkie's-eye take on the whole thing: it's like it's happening underwater. This is why, despite a woman noticing Dr. Sara's badge and repeatedly asking for help, all Dr. Sara can do is stand there and stare until Colin pulls her away. She eventually falls to her knees. This must be when she officially hits rock bottom. You can tell because not only did a kid die, it looks like Dr. Sara hasn't washed her hair in a week.