Original subtitles

He's bleeding out!

Code blue!

You got the, uh, insomnia pregnancy thing happening?

Yeah. Not exactly restful.

- How long do I have? - Matter of weeks.

That's not enough time to meet our baby.

Tumor has local extension into the splenic artery.

If we don't do something soon,

Jeremy could die on the table.

- What's his blood alcohol? - 0.275.

His name is Devin Carter.

He and his wife, Faye, were in the ED last month.

He beat the hell out of her.

You wanna give Faye a call?

She's actually out of town.

- He's lying. - Agreed.

But how do we prove it?

Oh, my God. Faye.

Daniel?

I don't know what's wrong with me today.

I guess I'm not feeling that introspective.

I'm sorry.

Mm, it's your dime.

How about, uh,

anything in the news catch your eye,

book you're reading?

Things got pretty crazy at work yesterday,

that's for sure.

How so?

Well, we lost power. Got tricky.

People fumbling around in the dark.

I think it kind of got into some people's heads.

Did it get in yours?

So this surgery was intended

to palliate the symptoms Jeremy presented with?

That was the intent, yes.

And had the debulking gone off without a hitch,

how many more years of life expectancy

would Jeremy have enjoyed?

- Uh... - Years?

We were maybe hoping for a few more weeks.

A few weeks?

That's not protocol, is it?

I mean, to risk a potentially fatal surgical outcome

for such a marginal improvement?

Some extenuating circumstances

led us to adjust the calculus.

Such as?

Such as Mr. Lockhart's wife, Esme,

being pregnant with their first child.

Jeremy had expressed a desire to be there

when the baby was born, before he died.

And their baby couldn't be delivered safely

in that time frame?

Well, she was only at 31 weeks, so no.

So did this same calculus

lead you to make the decision you did

when the power went out?

Dr. Lenox,

I'm Detective Gonsiorek.

Sorry for keeping you.

I would like to go over your statement.

Is this really necessary? I'm very tired.

I appreciate that, but I--

I find that people's memories get a little...

wiggy if you wait too long.

I'm not sure if there's a medical term for that or not.

It's--it's called consolidation.

Short-term memories get transferred

from the hippocampus to the cortex

for long-term storage.

And yes, some leakage tends to occur.

Hmm. That's good to know.

There's some science behind it, huh?

Anyway, as I was saying,

why don't you just walk me through

what you were thinkin'

when you left the hospital yesterday?

Thinkin'?

Well, you told my deputy that you were concerned

that Mrs. Carter was in some kind of trouble,

and that's why you went over there.

Yes.

So why didn't you call the police?

I don't know, I don't know.

- You don't know? - Mm-mm.

You don't remember?

Might that have leaked out

somewhere between the cortex and the hippo-whatever?

Well, maybe I didn't call the police

because I was concerned that they wouldn't

take this as seriously as I did.

On the other hand, had you notified the authorities,

maybe someone wouldn't have wound up dead.

So just for clarification's sake,

whose idea was it

to soldier on in the dark?

Jeremy's my patient.

I made the call.

Nobody knows how long it'll take

to get power in this OR.

There is one available upstairs if you want it.

What do you think, Jennifer?

We can't keep flying blind, that's for sure.

BP's dropping, people.

Now 73 over 40 and trending down.

Something's got to be bleeding in there.

And how the hell are we supposed to know?

I think we should take him upstairs now

while we still can.

Yeah.

I think we'd be better off staying put.

What?

Well, we don't know what's bleeding in there,

nor how bad it is, right?

The slightest bump on the way up

with these instruments still inside him

might make things even worse.

So you want to stay here in the dark?

We open him up, get a direct line of sight,

and we do the rest of the debulking by hand.

It's the fastest way to staunch whatever it is

that's dropping his blood pressure.

OK, open up the laparotomy trays.

Dave, find as many portable light sources as you can

and get some extra hands.

And, uh, maybe we'll get lucky

and the lights will come up in the meanwhile.

Legally speaking, Dr. Kingston,

that decision put the hospital

in a potentially tenuous situation.

Oh, I know it sounds risky, but all things considered,

staying put, even in the dark,

seemed to afford us more control

than trying to move the patient upstairs.

Except you didn't have it under control, Dr. Archer.

There's a lot of shed blood in the abdomen.

Activate MTP.

Ah. Here's the culprit.

Yep. Splenic artery.

Lap.

All right.

Clamp and tie, post-silk suture.

This was the section we were working on

before the lights went out. - Yeah.

You're hard-pressed to resect around this,

even in the best environment.

Tumor's too invasive.

Temp's down to 95.

Not sure how much longer we can keep him stable

in this environment.

I would like to remove the transverse colon mass

while we're here.

Hemostat. - We can't keep his blood warm.

He's hypothermic, coagulopathic,

and likely acidotic.

I just need ten more minutes.

That's the only reason why we're here, right?

All right.

Let's push on for ten more minutes.

Anybody with an armpit to spare,

use that to warm the blood before infusion.

Come on, everybody. Let's hustle.

The post-surgical report says Mr. Lockhart lost

about four liters of blood?

That sounds accurate, yeah.

And what do you think was the proximate cause

of the bleeding?

Was it the byproduct of the tumor's location?

Or could it have been attributed to the power outage?

Or, you know, was it simply pilot error?

There's no real way of knowing.

Dr. Kingston resected a remarkable amount

of tumor burden-- less than we had planned

given that we couldn't perform the HIPEC.

But still, hypothetically, it should have accomplished

what the patient was hoping for.

Unless he never wakes up.

You think he had a stroke?

It's a possibility.

So how long is he gonna be like this?

It's impossible to know at this juncture.

I wish I could be more precise.

Don't lose hope, Esme.

I don't know.

I--I'd made peace, I think,

with him either surviving the surgery

or dying on the table,

but him being stuck like this in limbo, it's...

it's like a nightmare.

I'm sorry.

Just, uh, I, um--

I'm being paged downstairs.

Excuse me.

I was wondering where you ran off to.

What's going on with you?

Something's eating at you.

Has for some time now.

It is nothing.

I'm fine.

Yeah, well, look, whatever it is,

it just needs to stop.

What?

What?

The non-answers, the cold shoulder,

the unspoken grievances.

I mean, what--is it-- is it the baby?

Is it the baby that's coming between us?

Because if it is, just-- just tell me what you want,

and I'll--I'll comply with your wishes.

I will.

I just want my friend back.

I'm having nightmares.

Actually, it's more like one nightmare over and over.

OK. What about?

Me.

Dying in the delivery room.

Like my mother.

Or maybe I'm the baby,

and my mom's on the table and I'm reliving the birth.

I'm not always clear. I don't know.

But the one thing that happens every single time

is that I always wake up screaming.

And in my dream, that baby is always a girl.

I know it sounds crazy, but I just feel like

if I find out that we're expecting a girl, then...

Then this nightmare is just gonna swallow me whole.

Wow.

If that's not a sign

that we should be talking like this more often,

I don't know what it is.

So where do you think Goodwin stands?

She's kind of hard to read.

I'm sure she's able to recognize

the difficulty of this situation.

Uh, listen, I know I was the one

who was pushing harder for staying down in the dark.

You didn't have to take ownership of it like that.

So thank you.

Well, I'm not one to second-guess things, Dean.

When I commit to something, I commit.

Uh, before we dismiss you, can you tell us

what Mr. Lockhart's current prognosis is?

He's still on life support.

And moving forward?

If he doesn't wake up in the next 12 hours,

he probably won't.

OK.

Thank you for your candor.

Ah.

So he had you knocked out?

Yes.

Cold-cocked me with his 9-millimeter.

The alleged murder weapon?

How long were you out for?

I'm not sure. I--

all I know is that when I came to...

Wake up!

I was back down in the basement.

Who knows you're here?

Uh, no one. No one.

I--I came alone.

- Yeah? - Uh-huh.

What about that, uh, Dr. Ripley?

He's been calling a lot.

What do you think he wants, huh?

He doesn't know I'm here. I swear.

It's only a matter of time

before someone comes looking for her.

No, no, just let her go.

- Shh, shh, shh! - She hasn't done anything!

You need to be quiet, OK?

We wouldn't even be in this mess

if you hadn't started in on me.

Come on, Devin. Think, think.

I'm just saying,

I'm sure she will promise not to say anything.

Yes, she's right. I won't.

I swear.

OK, OK.

W-w-w-what about her ankle?

How do I explain her ankle?

Baby, baby, baby.

You know I didn't mean for you to fall down the stairs, right?

You know that. - I know.

We got to stop doing this to each other.

I know. I'm sorry.

I swear, baby.

From now on, I will never lay another hand on you.

You believe me, don't you?

What are you looking at her for, Faye?

Her opinion doesn't matter, Faye!

OK, you know what?

You know what I think the best play is?

We should just get out of here altogether, OK?

Maybe--maybe Mexico or-- or Canada.

Your cousin is still up in Winnipeg, right?

Yeah. So?

OK. So let's just go.

I still love you, D, OK?

I do. Please.

Please.

I still love you too.

OK, come on. Let's get you out of here.

- OK. - Come on.

Oh, no.

No, I can't put weight on it.

- Her ankle is dislocated. - Oh!

And her distal tibia is broken too.

She's in no condition to walk anywhere.

You're gonna patch her up.

Temporary for now until we get where we're going

and I can have her fixed for good.

Um...

Let me see what I can find.

Yeah.

We fashioned a splint out of some wooden dowels

and duct tape.

She only offered to run away with him

in order to protect me.

I know that.

And I'll always be grateful to her for that.

And then what happened?

Um, Devin tied me back up

while he packed some food and water

and what looked like camping gear.

Damn it.

Come on, baby.

Come on, honey. We gotta hit the road.

Oh, I can't catch my breath.

Come on. Keep moving.

It's good for you, baby.

Oh, God.

What's happening to her?

Judging by her breathing and her injuries,

I'd guess she has a hemothorax.

A what?

Blood is pooling up in her chest.

If we don't let it out, her lung will collapse.

Oh, God.

She needs to go to the hospital.

Oh, God.

Oh, God.

OK. OK, OK.

You, keep your mouth shut.

Caitlin?

You here?

Get downstairs.

Move!

Move it, jackass.

Across the room, slowly.

Over there by the wall!

Go on!

Get down!

Back against the wall!

Arms behind the pipe behind you.

Slowly.

That's right, slowly.

OK, OK.

Who knows you're here?

- No one. - Don't lie to me!

I swear, no one.

You know...

for a couple of doctors,

you two sure are stupid!

But that's all right. It'll just make things easier.

Please, Devin, don't do this.

We don't have a choice!

OK.

You do have a choice, man. Come on.

Come on, use your head! Think about it!

You don't wanna do this.

Babe? Baby?

Hey, are you OK?

Say something.

Hey, babe, babe. Baby!

Say something. Hey.

What's going on? What?

If she dies...

you both die.

So she did have a hemothorax?

Yes.

And this was from her falling down the stairs.

This was from being pushed down the stairs,

which reinjured the broken ribs that lacerated her spleen

the last time she went to the hospital

because this monster abused her.

By that point, even if Devin had let us leave,

we wouldn't have been able to get to a hospital fast enough,

so we had to MacGyver a chest tube

out of whatever we could find.

I think I got everything.

I-I-I-I got-- I got duct tape, a bucket,

a knife, a--a bike pump.

Uh, we don't have rubbing alcohol,

but tequila should work, yeah? - Yes, yes.

We need to move. - OK, OK.

- I do need my hands. - OK.

Uh, yeah, yeah, OK.

And I need you to free Dr. Ripley as well.

No. No, no, no, not a chance.

This is a two-person procedure.

We don't have a lot of time, Devin!

Keep your hands where I can see 'em.

I'm not gonna cause any trouble.

I'm gonna make an anterior incision.

I need the knife.

Ah!

OK.

And we're gonna need to tape down the hose

to secure it in place.

Yeah, I got it. Don't wait for me.

Hurry up! She's dying!

We're going!

Hose.

Got it.

Baby? Baby, baby!

I thought I was gonna drown.

God, I don't know what I would do without you, babe.

So earlier, ambo came in with a victim of a car crash

who had deceased, unfortunately.

It was terrible.

Silver lining was,

is that he had checked that little box on his license,

and so we were able to harvest all of his organs,

among them, a very healthy heart.

So the heart was gonna go to a local woman

by the name of Linda Myers.

Anyway, we couldn't find her,

and so we called her sister, who did.

That's when things started to get interesting.

OK, Linda, just stay with me, OK?

We need to squeeze a couple more hours out of this heart

before we get you a new one.

She's overdosing on beta-blockers.

Low flow level on the LVAD. Heart rate's only 20.

We may need to pace her.

Move aside. Let me take a look.

OK.

The overhead's starving for blood.

Let's push 1 milligram of atropine, 2 of Versed.

I'm sorry. This is all my fault.

And who are you?

I'm Celia. I'm Linda's sister.

I'm the one who normally monitors Linda's meds.

I--I gave her too much metoprolol by accident.

I--she's not gonna die, is she?

Not on my watch.

Let's pace to 60, 20 milliamps.

60.

Celia, I'm just curious.

How much extra metoprolol did you give your sister?

I don't know.

Maybe, um, two or three times her normal dose?

We've got capture.

Linda, I'm Dr. Morris.

I'll be performing a transplant.

Nod if you understand.

Oh, thank God.

It's OK, Linda.

Everything's gonna be OK.

So the sister lied.

Linda intentionally OD'd on her meds.

- Yep. - Yeah, I figured.

An extra dose or two of metoprolol

probably wouldn't have caused that much damage.

Dr. Charles, I--

I wanted to apologize for lying earlier.

I just--I didn't want this to ruin my sister's chances.

You don't know how long we've been waiting for this.

How long have you been waiting?

Do you mind me asking?

12 years, since she was first diagnosed

with the dilated cardiomyopathy.

But she's been on the transplant list

for almost five now.

I mean, someone less courageous than Linda

might have given up years ago.

I--I know I sure would have.

Look, I certainly understand

that living with that kind of uncertainty

can be really debilitating, OK?

I absolutely get that.

Um, is your sister

seeing a psychiatrist right now?

Do you know? - Uh, yes, she sees him weekly.

He's had her on citalopram for quite a while now.

I could give you his number if you'd like.

Oh, you know what? That would be--that'd be good.

Can you leave it with the nurses' station?

Thank you. - It--it seems very clear to me

that if Linda had known that

a heart was going to become available today

or even a month from now, she wouldn't have done this.

I really should be having this conversation

with your sister-- I hope you understand.

I am begging you, Dr. Charles.

Please, please do not disqualify Linda

from receiving a transplant today.

Celia, you gotta let me do my job, OK?

Thank you for understanding.

You know, obviously, one burning question for me was,

could Linda's depression and subsequent suicide attempt

be solely attributed to her failing heart?

Or was her heart disease itself

a byproduct of her life choices?

Yeah, it's a real chicken-or-egg type dilemma.

- Yeah. - Hmm.

And all of that with a looming deadline.

That's a lot of pressure.

So what was it like for you,

Linda, when you were first diagnosed?

Uh--um, with, uh, heart disease?

Yeah.

Your--your cardiologist at the time

said that he thought that maybe your recreational drug use

could have contributed to the course of your disease?

Could--could have.

He couldn't say for sure.

And as soon as I found out,

I quit doing coke cold turkey.

Been sober ever since.

You can call my sponsor if you want.

Completely unnecessary. I believe you.

And I congratulate you for your bravery.

Mm.

I see that you're taking citalopram.

Um, for about five years.

Uh, my psychiatrist said I have clinical depression.

But who wouldn't be depressed?

After all I've been through?

It's a battle every day.

Every night, you go to bed

praying that tomorrow's gonna be the day.

But enough of those prayers gone answered,

and sooner or later, your nights are filled

more with dread than hope.

Yeah.

And then today happened.

I can't even imagine how brutal that must have been.

It's just all so absurd.

What's that old saying?

Uh, "If I didn't have bad luck, I wouldn't have any at all."

This always happens to me.

What does?

I don't know. Doc, I--

I think the universe has it out for me.

You realize, Dr. Daniel,

that the donor heart has a finite lifespan?

I'm aware, yeah.

Ah, well, she tried to off herself today.

So what was there to even talk about?

You're unbelievable.

Just so you know,

next recipient on the list is a young lawyer.

Ex-triathlete, actually, with a wife and three kids.

I've notified his doctor

to make sure his bags are packed.

Are you serious?

Do you--you know, I--

I'd heard from several people that you were a child.

I had no idea you were a complete idiot.

What, is this about your outcome?

Oh, man, you surgeons.

It's unbelievable.

Do you have no idea how this works?

It's not about choosing this guy or that guy

that's gonna be better for you, OK?

It's called a list!

It's a list, buddy.

And it's about the next person on the list, all right?

About evaluating that person,

their eligibility for this heart,

for better or for worse.

That's it!

That must be a humbling responsibility.

Yeah.

I imagine that no matter how much objectivity

you strive to imbue the process with,

at the end of the day, it...

just comes down to intuition, right?

In a way, yeah.

Linda, I know that this is not the news you want to hear,

but unfortunately,

I'm very sorry to have to tell you

that in light of recent events,

I am not able to recommend to the advisory committee

that you receive this particular heart

at this-- at this particular time.

No.

I told you I was cursed.

You realize you just gave my sister

a death sentence, don't you?

- Celia, I've already-- - No.

I thought psychiatrists were supposed to help people.

Get the hell out of here!

Now!

The chest tube that we made

was able to keep blood

from pooling up in her chest,

but she needed proper medical care immediately,

which was entirely lost on Devin.

And then we're gonna get out--

get out of here, OK?

Come on. Come up.

OK. OK, I got you.

All right, don't move.

Hey, Faye.

Listen to me.

Faye, I need you to get me out of here as quickly as possible

so we can get you to the hospital.

You hear me?

He's right, Faye.

You're in no condition to go anywhere, not with him.

You're gonna die.

I don't--I don't know.

You're not safe with him.

You've never been safe with him.

You never will be.

I--I can't.

Yes, you can. I know you can.

I'll distract him.

OK.

All right, baby. All right.

It's time to go. Ready?

You good? You good?

OK, come on.

We can do this. Come on.

She'll never make it, man.

Not with that hose still in her.

She'll develop sepsis or go into organ failure.

I assure you of that.

Shut up!

Come on. - No!

You're basically killing her, man!

But what do you care?

You've been trying to kill her this whole time anyway.

You don't know anything about me!

I see you for who you really are.

A weak and worthless little man.

Enough!

You should have just stayed at the hospital, man.

You say that you used a tent stake

to break free from your restraints?

I did have the element of surprise on my side.

He's a lot stronger than you.

You should know, um, I served in the Army.

- Oh. - Special forces.

I've had extensive hand-to-hand combat training.

Which includes firearm training with lethal force.

I didn't use lethal force.

Then why do I have a body in the morgue

with a bullet in it?

He can't break out of those, can he?

No.

He can't hurt you anymore, Faye.

We gotta get her out of here.

Well, we can't carry her.

She needs to be lying flat.

I'll go find a phone.

911. What's your emergency?

This is Dr. Caitlin Lenox requesting immediate

medical and police assistance at 105 Oak Glen Way.

30-year-old female

with multiple life-threatening injuries.

Her husband, her assailant, has been restrained for now.

By the time I got back downstairs, he was dead.

Devin Carter.

Evidently, he had freed himself

from the 2x4 that we'd zip-tied him to.

And how do you think he accomplished that?

There were some rusty bolts on there.

I mean, maybe he was able to use that for friction.

But anyway, he had already grabbed a stretch of pipe

that he was about to attack Ripley with,

and that's when...

- His wife shot him. - Yeah, that's right.

In self-defense.

And to protect Mitch and me.

What happened?

And how did she get the gun, exactly?

It had skittered under the sofa.

And you expect me to believe that someone with

a military background forgot to secure the gun?

- I made a stupid mistake. - Mm.

Never fails.

The smarter the person across from me,

the more illogical the story they try to sell.

Meaning what?

Meaning you're lying.

The ME took these of Devin Carter.

Take a look at this one in particular.

Now, you said that he broke free

from the 2x4 that you tied him to.

But see those ligature marks on the wrist?

Yeah.

Well, you would expect there would be deeper abrasions

if that was the case.

But in fact, it doesn't look like Devin Carter

struggled very much at all.

Looks to me like someone freed his wrists after he was killed.

And now the main corroborating witness

claims that she was conveniently outside the house

when the gun was fired,

a gun that you forgot to secure.

So a woman was terrorized and abused hard enough

and for long enough to require

at least two trips to the hospital,

and you have the gall

to imply that she wasn't acting in self-defense?

I agree with everything you just said.

And I think that you made sure

that Devin Carter paid for it with his life.

And Faye is remaining quiet

because she feels grateful to you.

And you got all that

from a couple of zip ties?

Yeah, that and the fact

that you are clearly sitting on some major anger.

Well, that's the first thing

you've been right about tonight.

So put me in front of a jury, and let's see how it goes.

Daniel.

Yeah.

Can I ask what happened with the heart?

Yeah.

Went to the next guy on the list.

Apparently, transplant went very well.

I guess there's a happy ending to this story after all.

Happy ending?

You sure about that?

OK. I mean, look.

We all have our good days and our bad days, right?

You know, that's the third time you did that today.

Did what?

Leaned on a cliché to gaslight me.

Well, I don't know about you, Daria.

I actually do have good days and bad days.

Look, I'm sorry.

I got no sleep last night, and I was just--

I think I would really like to call it.

You know, when you asked if we could work together

because you wanted a younger, fresher perspective,

are you sure you weren't looking for a rookie

that you could push around instead?

What?

Come on.

Have a little respect.

Respect? For what?

Your rep?

The legendary Daniel Charles?

How about for what I went through yesterday?

Talk about someone who sounds like a victim.

I'm a shrink, Daria.

I am not wired to bet against people!

You ever sentence someone to death based on a hunch?

No, I haven't.

But you were not sentencing somebody to death.

She's still on the list, Daniel.

She's not gonna die tomorrow.

You were just doing your job.

And it sucked.

And nobody would blame you for feeling guilty.

Including me.

I'm thinking about retiring.

I think about it all the time.

I don't know if I have it in me anymore.

I'm--I'm serious, Daria, I--I don't--

everything just seems to be getting so much.

I don't know if it's me who's changing or the patients.

But on days like yesterday, man, I--I--

I don't know how much gas I have left in the tank.

What happened yesterday, Daniel?

What are you not telling me?

I might have left something out about, uh,

something that happened around my...

little confrontation with Dr. Morris.

It's called a list!

It's a list, buddy, and it's about the next person

on the list, all right?

About evaluating that person,

their eligibility for this heart,

for better or for worse.

That's it!

Well, I just don't want a good heart to go to waste.

So tell me.

Who's it gonna be?

Who's it gonna be, Daniel?

Ah!

Ah...

Jeez.

I haven't had a panic attack since medical school.

And I have never, ever,

no matter what kind of moron,

talked to a colleague that way.

And the bloody nose?

I think there's something really wrong with me.

And I don't know what it is.

And I'm scared.

Can you tell us your full name?

Derrick Davenport.

Relax.

That's my ex-boyfriend's name.

Sense of humor is clearly intact.

Well, it doesn't seem like you're suffering

from any cognitive decline.

And the muscle tone is great on both sides.

We'll still need to grab a CT,

but I think we can rule out a stroke.

Do you think I'll-- I'll still make it

to our baby's delivery?

I do.

Thanks, to all of you.

Oh, my God.

The baby's kicking.

What?

It's really happening, isn't it?

We're gonna have a baby girl.

Let me guess. You're pregnant.

Don't deflect.

You said you were having trouble sleeping, so, uh,

brought you something from the doctor's,

which I hope helps.

OK, tell me that this is not what I think it is.

Afraid I can't do that.

No.

All right, just hear me out, OK?

So whether you open this envelope or not,

it's not going to affect

the physical development of the baby.

It's already on its path.

But I believe the not knowing is affecting you.

And if you want to put a stop to these nightmares,

you need to face your fears.

Letting anxiety fester

isn't good for the health of the baby or you.

So...

It's a girl.

It's a girl.

So now we know.

And contrary to popular belief, uh,

history does not always repeat itself.

In fact, it rarely does.

And for the record, I hope that she turns out

to be just like her mother.

Well, there is no way I'll be sleeping tonight.

Um, would you--

would you maybe want to watch a movie with me?

Of course.

- Hey. - Hi.

How'd you hold up?

OK, for the most part.

You?

Yeah.

Just had to stick to the story, right?

I'll go find a phone.

OK, I'm gonna try and find something

we can use to get you out of here, all right?

No. No. No, no, no, no.

Please don't leave me.

It's all right. It's all right.

The cops are on the way.

It's gonna be fine.

OK.

Baby, get the gun.

It's under the couch. Get the gun.

Get the gun. You can do it.

Get the gun. Get the gun.

Baby, get the gun.

It's under the couch.

Get the gun. You can do it.

You can do it. That's it.

That's it. Good girl, good girl.

That's it. Good girl.

Good girl. You got it.

OK, all right. This is what we're gonna do.

OK, all right.

Hey, what's going on?

- He woke back up. - It's all right.

He can't get out of those restraints.

Faye, I need you to give me the gun.

Hey! Faye, Faye,

you have to shoot him.

- What? - You have to shoot him.

It is the only way out of this, OK?

Faye, don't listen.

Come on, baby. You know I'm right.

- Faye. - You know I'm right, OK?

- Faye, look at me. - Listen to me.

- Look at me. - Listen to me.

- Faye, you can do this. - Faye, Faye.

Don't listen to him, listen to me.

Stop looking at him. Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey.

- Faye. - Hey!

Do as I say and shoot him!

Faye, I need you to look at me!

Shoot him!

She only offered to run away with him

in order to protect me.

I'll always be grateful to her for that.

Should probably get that looked at.

Tomorrow.

Hey.

I didn't get a chance to ask you yet.

What the hell were you thinking

going to that house by yourself?

What the hell were you thinking following me?