Subs created by: David Coleman.
Yeah we found him in town, no I.D., on some kind of rant...
Says the C.I.A. sent assassins to kill him.
Paranoid delusions, hallucinations... thanks.
Another Friday night, huh?
Hey, buddy. What's your name?
Oh, I can't tell you that. It's too dangerous.
For you, for me, for everyone in this building.
If you want to call me something, call me "Dan".
Okay, Dan.
You, uh... you want a stick of gum?
- Always calms my nerves. - And rots your teeth. No.
Welcome to Jerseyville Psychiatric.
We're gonna take you to your room now, okay?
Subtitles downloaded from www.OpenSubtitles.org
Life can be awfully grim...
Death, taxes...
the Cubs out of contention by August.
It's all so inevitable...
Unless we have hope.
Then, the brain can envision what's possible.
Humanity... mind-blowing sex...
The World Series at Wrigley...
Now I'm pushing it. Maybe that's pushing it.
But hope abounds in the world of Neurotherapy,
thanks to embryonic cells in the brain known...
Known as Neuroblasts.
These tiny miracles form in the Subventricular zone after a stroke.
Then zip over to the damaged tissue and make repairs.
Amazing.
The brain has its own pit crew.
Now, Neuroblast research is still in its infancy.
But this weekend, Mr. Lewicki will getting together with some of
his fellow grad students in Ann Arbor to discuss the possibility.
Think about it...
Someday, instead of managing brain degeneration with medication...
We may be able to help the brain heal itself.
A lecture on optimism...
God, that makes me want to go back to college.
Endless nights in the dorm,
gorging ourselves on hoagies, so stoned that we could hardly...
Ruben, I'm sure you didn't come here to relive your wasted youth.
You're right. I need your help.
This is my client, Erica Beecher.
She's a patient at Jerseyville Psychiatric hospital.
She allegedly stabbed a nurse to death with a letter opener.
Jerseyville's a hellhole. State shut it down twice when I was in college...
Unsanitary conditions, patient abuse. Was that her motive?
I have no idea. She won't talk to me. She won't let me see her psych records.
- Why? - She's mentally ill?
I'll probably plead her guilty in exchange for psychiatric care but,
I can't go to the Judge without an expert diagnosis.
Well, I'll assess her, but if she hasn't talked to you, how do you know
she's even guilty, or that she's seriously mentally ill, for that matter?
They found her with the nurse's blood on her hands.
Oh, and I think this answers your second question.
She swallowed the murder weapon.
I want you closing out the register.
Pete can handle all the side work, except the garnish.
The kid has no attention to detail.
We'll be fine. Hey, did you pack a swimsuit?
- Aunt Sheila's got a pool. - I'm not going swimming.
Why not? Because she expects you to keep vigil by her bedside all weekend?
Dad, she's got a broken hip. She's not dying.
Besides, you're going to sunny Phoenix. You should pack a swimsuit.
Your opinion is noted.
Now, take me through it.
Are you quizzing me? How many summers did I work here?
That was years ago, kiddo.
Okay... print out the tape, check the sales,
count the cash, add up the credit-card receipts,
check the total against the printout.
Put the tape receipts and cash into the safe.
Combination's still my birthday?
The answer is to your question is five summers...
Best time of my life.
Do you, uh, remember me, Erica?
I'm Ruben Bauer, your lawyer,
and I've brought my friend Dr. Pierce to talk to you.
It's... it's Daniel.
How's your throat? Does it still hurt after the surgery?
You get used to it.
You've swallowed sharp objects before.
Pens and pencils are my bread and butter.
I've swallowed nails, too...
Some forks.
Do you know why you do it?
The thought comes into my head, and it won't leave me alone.
Once, I ripped the antenna off a car and swallowed that.
It's like I don't have a choice.
I've been where you are.
It's hard to know who to trust.
We are on your side. We want to get you out of here.
But you need to tell us what happened with the letter opener.
I stole it.
But I didn't kill Nurse Laurie.
I swear.
I was doing therapy in Dr. Poole's office.
He said I was making progress.
And then I noticed the letter opener on his desk.
And I couldn't stop thinking about it.
Then, Nurse Laurie showed up.
She said there was a problem.
And when they stepped out, I just lifted it.
I don't know if Nurse Laurie saw me take it, but she must have seen me
hide it under my mattress, because she came to my bedroom that night...
Took it away.
But you must have gotten the letter opener back.
I couldn't get to sleep.
I kept thinking how disappointed Dr. Poole was gonna be once she told him what I did.
I just wanted to ask her if I could be the one to explain.
And then I found her.
She was laying in a...
Puddle of blood.
The letter opener was sticking out of her chest.
I should have run for help, but the thought was in my head, and I couldn't escape it.
What was that thought, exactly?
If I didn't swallow that letter opener, I was going to die.
Erica, you said that Nurse Laurie
had a problem with Dr. Poole earlier in the morning.
Do you remember what it was?
No... I mean, they were arguing, but...
Did it sound personal, or...
Daniel, could I have a word with you?
I'm not the F.B.I., Daniel.
I need you to make a diagnosis, not to play Detective.
Well, her diagnosis suggests she's innocent.
She swallowed the letter opener because she has an extreme case of O.C.D.
What, like someone who washes her hands over and over?
Yes, except Erica swallows sharp objects. It's a compulsion.
She didn't do it as part of some conscious plan to cover up a murder.
The charges are bogus.
Look, for all you know, Erica got mad when the nurse
took the letter opener away, and she stabbed her.
Then her O.C.D. kicked in, and she swallowed the thing.
I don't... I don't think that's what happened.
Yeah, but any semi-competent A.D.A., can convince a jury that it did.
Look, I can't risk it.
If we lose at trial, then Erica has no chance of getting the care that she needs.
But if we plead guilty...
Then she spends the rest of her life in a psychiatric hospital
when it's possible she could be cured.
Cured? Daniel, be realistic.
There's a procedure at Chicago General called gamma knife.
It's controversial, but it can ameliorate the effects of O.C.D.
If we can clear her of this murder, Erica has a shot at a normal life.
We'd need reasonable doubt...
Some alternative theory of the crime.
- So, let's start investigating. - How?
No psych hospital with a murder on their hands
is gonna open their doors to a defense attorney.
They'll open their doors to the F.B.I. I'll call Kate right now.
Look. I know she's your friend.
But the F.B.I. works with prosecutors, not defense attorneys.
We need a different way in.
Look, my point to her is, if I can watch her home-makeover shows...
She can wear the occasional, you know, slutty outfit to watch me play softball.
- Look, nothing obscene... - Help me! Please! Please!
Please, you have to help me. They're trying to kill me.
All right, take it easy. Who's trying to kill you?
The C.I.A. they had... they've had assassins tracking me for weeks.
I just lost two of them outside of town. But it's only a matter of time. Oh, God.
Okay, just calm down.
- We're gonna take you someplace safe. - Okay. Thank you. Thank you.
Kate!
Hey! What, are you moonlighting?
Yeah, just for the weekend, but you don't have to hide.
My dad's out of town.
- He still want to break my face? - Oh, yeah. Cocktail?
- Pitcher of Blue Moon. - You got it.
Babysitting a couple of bigwigs from D.C...
They love this place.
Hey.
Speaking of infidelity, I ran into Ruben Bauer at the Courthouse.
And that was actually your segue?
He told me he's got Pierce on one of his cases.
Doesn't Daniel know better than to work for a defense attorney?
Daniel can do whatever he wants. Stop trying to make trouble.
Oh, come on. Bauer's the enemy.
That's got to bother you a little.
I don't know.
If my husband slept with my best friend,
that might bother me, but otherwise, I try not to sweat the small stuff.
I don't like this plan, Daniel.
Do you remember David Rosenhan from the 1970s?
The psychologist who checked himself into a mental institution,
pretending to be a schizophrenic.
And then he got stuck for two months because
they didn't believe he was faking it.
That's not gonna happen.
Ruben's springing me on Monday. You know, it's just...
It's a weekend we're talking about here. Please, try to relax.
It's nicer than you expected, isn't it? They must have renovated.
It's still Jerseyville.
And you're in a locked ward with a killer that you can't identify.
And on top of that, you've disrupted your routine.
I'm trying to help Erica.
How about a little less hand-wringing and a little more
helping me figure out who killed the nurse?
Good morning, Dan. This is Lex.
You're at Jerseyville Psychiatric hospital.
Do you remember how you got here?
- The police. - That's right.
You were a little confused last night.
Last night was a bad night.
Would you like to give us your full name, or
someone you'd like us to contact for you?
Nope. Nope. No, too dangerous.
I see. Okay.
Have you been hearing any voices or seen anything unusual this morning?
- He's unusual. - Oh.
Lex is one of our nurses.
He's gonna give you your medication, then take you to group therapy.
You're pretty calm, Lex.
Ever served as an operative in a hostile territory?
No. I'm just calm.
Even though one of your own was murdered here three weeks ago?
- Who told you that? - Oh, come on.
We both know that's above your clearance.
No. No. Not tomorrow... today.
Get your charts up to date.
The investigator's coming at 10:00.
Go.
That's Dr. Poole.
You stay on his good side, you'll be all right.
We haven't heard from you all session, Dan.
Tell us what brings you here.
That's... that's classified.
- Liar. - Zoey, it's Dan's first day.
Maybe he doesn't feel safe yet.
Or he's just lying.
You think you're better than everybody else?
This is not helpful.
Therapy was meant for an individual, not for the group.
Who are you supposed to be, Sigmund Freud?
No, just one of the nut jobs, calling you on your bullshit.
So, now one member decides to undermine the leadership,
and so everything turns to chaos.
Mm.
Look at the time, Daniel. Shouldn't you be going?
Uh, the truth is, I...
I don't feel safe.
Good, Dan. Talk about that.
I know there was a nurse murdered in this hospital a
few weeks ago, a-and the killer's still at large.
Not your average rookie, eh, Dr. Poole?
Okay, Virgil.
Dan, I don't know what you've heard
or who you've heard it from, but nobody is at large.
You actually think Erica killed Nurse Laurie?
- Zoey... - She's not that kind of person.
She's my friend.
Let's talk about your tendencies, Dr. Poole.
Zoey, that's enough.
- You're a fascist. - Keep talking, Daniel.
I think we are close to a breakthrough here.
Uh, I...
I think the real killer is in this hospital.
Maybe even in this room.
Maybe it was you, Dr. Poole!
Anthony. Anthony! Anthony! Sit down!
Help! Help! The patients are attacking Dr. Poole!
Hi.
Dr. Poole's hung up in group therapy, but he...
He knew he was meeting with you at 10:00, so he sent me to cover. I'm...
- I'm Dr. Lewicki. - Kevin Reynolds, State Board.
I just joined the staff a couple weeks ago but,
Dr. Poole never mentioned an investigation during the interview.
There's nothing to worry about, is there?
I can't talk about my findings before I give them to the board. That would be...
No, no, of course not. I just...
My wife fell in love with a house over the weekend.
And before we make an offer, I kind of need to know... you understand.
There you are.
Jenna, take Mr. Reynolds to the conference room.
I need to borrow the good doctor for a few minutes, then I'll catch up.
We need to talk, Dan.
Or would you prefer I call you Dr. Pierce?
I recognized you right away.
I also know the real reason you won't tell anyone your name.
You've had a brilliant career despite your mental illness,
but now you've relapsed, and you're worried about your reputation
if people find out that you're here.
I'm worried about my life if the C.I.A. finds out I'm here.
That's a paranoid fantasy.
Your mind is dissociating from who you really are
and what the real pressures are that you face.
I'm sure it's overwhelming, Dr. Pierce,
but I can't treat you differently from everyone else.
If you break the rules, there will be consequences.
I was assured that this facility was secure,
and then this medical board investigator
waltzes in like he's shopping for groceries?
Has the guy even been vetted?
Daniel, I asked the investigator to come.
Why the hell would you do that?
This hospital still lives in the shadow of its reputation from 30 years ago.
I'm sure you know the history.
I believe it affects the amount of funding we get from the state,
so I want the medical board to see that we have nothing to hide.
Except for the truth about Nurse Laurie's murder.
What happened to Nurse Laurie was horrible.
It's natural for people's feelings about it to linger.
But the police have investigated, and the case is closed.
You don't trust the good doctor?
Why should I? He's cold, impatient.
Much like your father, no?
Really? Daddy issues? You couldn't come up with something more original?
So you want to be original?
Well, unfortunately, your work does not reflect this.
A distinct lack of self-iconography...
And look at that enormous sun.
Obviously, an over-identification with the mother.
God, you're annoying. No wonder I hated you in college.
Hey, Dan. Who's your friend?
Whoever it is you keep talking to?
You're in a loony bin, dude. It happens.
It's Sigmund Freud.
Shut up.
You lying again?
He's analyzing my painting.
What's he saying?
The usual Freudian crap.
Oh, man, I think Freud was a genius.
The science of the mind.
Hey, you think he'd look at my painting?
I don't see why not.
This woman is extremely troubled, Daniel.
What's he saying?
He says it's beautiful.
Zoey?
Her delusions are very dark. Perhaps they overpower her.
Did you just... see something, too?
I don't see things.
I hear voices. There's a difference.
Do the voices tell you to do bad things?
This is my sixth tour of this place.
What do you think?
- Where's my pitcher? - Coming.
All right. There you are.
Excuse me! This is a daiquiri.
- I actually ordered a piña colada. - Sorry.
We're not dating, sweetheart. You can't make me wait all night for it.
And now she's out of beer. Great.
Yeah, and in a second, I'm gonna be out of patience, too!
- So why don't you shut your mouth! - Whoa, whoa, whoa! Whoa, whoa, whoa!
Trust me, pal. You don't want to poke this bear.
Donnie, what are you doing?
Well, I came by for the friends-and-family discount,
but it looks like I better tap a new keg and make that colada instead.
Trust me. I've got this, so go.
Ow!
Kate, hey. Come here. Let me do it. Let me do it.
You take care of the badge bunny waiting on her appletini.
Come on. It'll be like old times.
All right, but just until I'm out of the weeds.
Of course.
Hey! Incoming.
Hey, um...
The blue paint on your portrait...
Was that just sabotaging the work, or did it have some other meaning?
Were you just sabotaging the work, or did it have some other meaning?
Do Nurse Rina.
Anthony, how are we feeling tonight?
Did you have some yummy chicken pot pie at dinner?
Time for your meds.
Uh, do Dr. Poole.
Shannon...
How did the pot pie make you... feel?
Sexy? I see.
And what specifically about the pot pie was...
Sexy to you?
Thank you, thank you, thank you. Thank you.
- Creak! Creak! Creak! - Yeah!
No, no, no. Pick another one.
Stop! I'm not doing Creak! Just forget it.
Forget it.
Who's Creak? I said, forget it.
I'll tell you who Creak is.
Anthony, dim the lights.
Can you give me a flashlight?
Back in the so-called Dark Ages of this place, we're talking 1980s...
They had a special way of dealing with patients who didn't cooperate.
There was a room at the other end of the hospital...
Creak's room... where he kept his drill.
- What was the drill for? - Holes into the brain.
Point being, you got to give the bad stuff a way to get out.
But Creak took your soul, too.
You'd go in there kicking and screaming. You'd come out dead inside.
Of course, when the state came in and cleaned everything up, Creak disappeared.
Some people said that he died.
But that's a lie. That's a lie.
So where is he?
Well, word is that he took his drill and set up shop in the basement.
And he's been there ever since.
- But you know what I think? - Nobody cares, Virgil.
You told your story. Now shut up.
Creak's down there, all right.
But he isn't human.
He's paranormal.
Supernatural, because he knows everything...
What you think, what you do.
And when you step out of line, he'll wait until nighttime, when everything's dark!
And he comes and...
Gets you!
Anthony, that wasn't cool.
That was an accident.
You guys are all assholes.
Zoey. Zoey.
Zoey, it's okay. It's okay. I understand.
Sometimes, our minds can make even a stupid ghost story seem real.
It's not a story.
Creak is real.
Just...
Just take your meds and act normal so you can get the hell out of here.
Before he comes for you, too.
- Clear the room! - What do you mean? He came for you?
Don't touch me!
Get away from me!
Mm.
- No, no, no. - Mm. No, take it.
I couldn't have done it tonight without you, seriously, take your share.
Just for the record, you were the one saving my ass all night.
Oh, yeah. I guess it was just like old times then.
Hey, I never had any illusions about who was the better bartender.
Yeah, you always said it was you.
Mm.
That's what I said.
But I knew from the first night we worked together that you were the real deal.
- Mm hmm. - I was just faking it.
Yeah, and all the customers were so dazzled by your charm, they didn't even notice.
I don't know about that.
I do.
We made a pretty good team behind the bar.
Hmm.
I know what you're thinking.
Behind the bar, in front of the bar, on the bar...
That's not what I was thinking.
Oh.
Maybe that's what you were thinking.
I was thinking, um...
That it's late.
And you need to go.
24 hours in this place, and the closest thing I've got to a lead is a woman
with Schizophrenia who's convinced there's a monster living in the basement.
Have you considered the possibility that the monster is not a delusion?
- Oh, what? You think Creak's real, too? - No.
But Zoey's belief...
Can be the product of her dreams rather than her psychosis.
Which, according to you, would be an unconscious attempt
to resolve a conflict from her past.
Or a conflict from within.
Perhaps Zoey is convinced of the monster's reality...
Because the monster is her.
Are you saying she's the killer?
Creak may represent the dark side of her personality...
The side that she herself cannot face.
You must try to get the patient to talk, Daniel.
- You like to watch? - What?
No. No.
Hey!
You were right about the nurse's killer.
It wasn't the sword-swallowing girl. It was Creak.
Of course it was.
Oh, the paranoid is never entirely mistaken, Daniel.
Why would Creak target a nurse? I thought that...
Thought that he just punished unruly patients.
He does.
But what if an unruly patient was about to kill herself,
and Nurse Laurie got in the way?
Who exactly are we talking about here?
- Zoey. - Zoey tried to kill herself?
Rumor has it that Creak almost scared her to death.
And what, Laurie stopped her?
And then she got dead.
See, my guess is that Creak didn't appreciate the interference.
- How do you know all this, Virgil? - I don't sleep much.
Gives me more time to learn things.
So, why...
Why would Creak go after Zoey? What, did she, did she do something wrong?
Maybe she didn't believe he was real.
She believes now, though.
Virgil's an idiot.
He roams the halls at night, listening to the nurses gab.
As if they know anything.
Well, what he said about Creak, and you trying to kill yourself...
Who the hell are you to ask me that?
My name is Daniel Pierce.
I'm working with Erica's lawyer.
We believe she was wrongly accused of Nurse Laurie's murder.
I came here to find out the truth.
Sure you did.
The schizo Detective and his sidekick, Sigmund Freud.
I understand if you don't believe me.
But I believe you.
I believe Creak is real.
I believe he did something so horrible to you that it made you want to die.
Now, if you tell me about it, maybe I can help.
That's what Nurse Laurie said.
- She ended up dead. - Right.
And Erica might go to prison for that.
She can't survive in there.
Zoey, you said she was your friend.
Somebody came into my room.
I couldn't see a face, just...
A glove...
And a syringe with...
Blue liquid.
I blacked out, and...
I woke up in this crazy room with all these...
Colors and things changing shape.
I couldn't move.
Creak was there.
- What did he look like? - I don't know.
He was...
Dressed all in black.
His breath...
Smelled awful, like...
Death.
He had his drill, and he just... he kept saying...
I had to forget what I saw that night or he was gonna take the memory out himself.
- What did you see? - I didn't see anything.
But Creak said I was lying.
He said if I even thought about telling anyone else that he would know,
and he would take me again.
I just couldn't get it out of my mind...
How I'd never be free from him.
I just...
I felt hopeless.
And that's why you tried to hang yourself.
Nurse Laurie walked in before I could finish the job.
Did you tell her about Creak?
She believed me.
She said she knew what to do, and I wouldn't have to worry about Creak anymore.
That was the last thing she said to me.
It's psychological torture.
They're using an old hospital legend about a monster
to punish patients who don't cooperate.
Nurse Laurie found out about it, and that's why she was killed.
Killed by whom, Daniel? That's kind of important.
I don't know yet, I... but I have some leads.
Zoey said she was injected with a blue liquid
before Creak dragged her into the basement.
I think the blue liquid was Perinadrol.
It's a date-rape drug that they probably mixed with LSD or something.
LSD? Daniel, you're not making any sense. Slow down.
- They're abusing patients, Ruben. - Do you understand that?
See? He stole the phone right out of my purse.
- Daniel, what's going on? - I just need a little more time.
Isn't our idea of cooperation, Daniel. I warned you there would be consequences.
- Ow! No! No needles! - Daniel!
Wait a second, you're telling me that you let him check
himself into a mental hospital completely alone?
All right, you can crucify me later. Right now, Daniel needs our help.
I was thinking we could drive down there.
- And then... - No, Ruben.
There's no "we". You have had your time at the wheel.
It's a quiet room, Daniel.
Get some sleep.
I need to see Daniel Pierce. Now.
I'm sorry we can't comment on any patient that may or may not be...
Dr. Pierce...
Is not a real patient.
He deliberately had himself checked in
so that he could investigate the murder of Laurie Mason.
- He works for the F.B.I.? - Yes. He does.
And the F.B.I. tends to get extremely cranky
when it's after 1:00 A.M. and they don't get their way.
You're getting some movement back.
Follow my finger, Daniel.
The Perinadrol is wearing off.
The LSD may take longer.
Do you know who I am?
You're... you're Creak.
But you're not real.
No?
He's supposed to be in here.
Okay, well, either someone took him out or let him out.
Is all of your staff accounted for?
One of the nurses called in sick... Lex.
Okay, well, I'm gonna need his information. Did you get a hold of Dr. Poole?
- He's on his way. - All right.
- Creak took Dan. - Zoey.
Who's Creak?
He's an imaginary monster that lives in the basement.
It's a ghost story they all tell each other.
Creak isn't just a story!
Tell me more about this Creak.
You have been making accusations about my hospital...
Abuse...
The blue medicine.
It's time for you to forget.
No.
No, I won't.
Then I will make you forget.
It's...
That's not possible.
It's an imperfect procedure, really.
You may lose other memories your... your family, perhaps...
Yourself.
And then, of course...
There's the pain.
Take off his mask, Daniel.
How the hell am I supposed to do that?
By identifying him.
The persona is his power. You must strip it away.
But, just think.
Who is he?
Agent Moretti?
- Who the hell are you? - I'm Dr. Mitchell Poole.
Sorry it took me so long to get here. How can I help?
Zoey described a room with a furnace and pipes on the ceiling.
Can you help me find it?
That sounds like about a dozen rooms down here, but we can look.
Last chance.
Tell me you'll forget what you think you know.
Who is he, Daniel?
Solve the puzzle.
- I can't! - That's the wrong answer!
You must. You're a schizophrenic, Daniel.
Your mind can only resist for so long.
Where should I make my perfect, little hole?
Do you feel that?
No, but I...
I hear it.
Synesthesia...
It's a common experience with LSD.
Your brain is mixing up your senses.
You're hearing tactile sensations.
And seeing smells.
It's time for you to forget!
That looks hot.
It looks hot.
Looks... it looks spicy.
- Yes. - I'm... I'm...
I'm seeing cinnamon.
Now...
Beg for your life.
You're not Creak. You're Mark.
What did you say?
You scared Zoey into believing you, but not me.
You're not gonna do this.
They'll figure out it was you.
Damn!
Damn it!
Zoey said Creak's breath smelled like death.
That's why you chew gum... to mask it.
She told Laurie, and Laurie figured out it was you.
She confronted you.
Damn it!
She had the letter opener, and you killed her with it.
Erica got arrested.
You figured you could get away with it.
I did get away with it.
Don't... what are you doing?
And I'm gonna get away with this, too.
Don't do it.
A nut job escapes from his room, and he hangs himself.
Happens all the time.
People will say you're just like Zoey.
Except no one's here to save you.
Daniel!
So Mark Leighton, the orderly, officially confessed to the murder.
Sold out his girlfriend in the process.
Apparently, Nurse Rina helped him cover up the whole thing.
- So Erica's cleared. - Yeah.
She'll be released from jail today.
You had the whole thing figured out.
Except why Mark tortured Zoey to begin with.
Said she saw him stealing drugs.
- From the hospital pharmacy? - Mm hmm.
He said he came out the door, and she was just standing there staring right at him.
So he became Creak to scare her into not telling anybody.
Irony is she never saw him in the first place.
When Zoey hears voices in her head, she literally
loses awareness of what's right in front of her.
But, to him, it must have looked like she was staring right at him.
Well, that explains Mark.
Let's talk about you.
Kate, I'm sorry I didn't tell you what I was doing.
- But, if I had... - I would have stopped you...
Because this is by far the dumbest idea you have ever had.
Thank you for saving my life.
Just don't make me do it again.
So, have you ever prosecuted a serial killer?
Eh...
Ah, it's not as exciting as you'd probably think.
Oh, you're being modest. It's cute, though.
Let me buy you a drink.
I bet I could get you to talk about it.
Sorry. Can't.
What the hell are you doing behind my bar?
Hey, Joe. Uh, Kate had an emergency.
She asked me to cover for her.
- She okay? - Yeah, a work thing.
Nothing to worry about.
Chatting up the female customers? Is that part of the arrangement?
I wasn't chatting her up. I was being polite.
Yeah, well, you got a history of being polite.
- Joe... - Look...
I don't know why she asked you for help, but I got it from here.
Whatever you think of me, I deserve.
But it doesn't change the fact that I love Kate.
Well, that explains it.
I have been working on him all weekend.
Couldn't get him to break.
So... let me guess...
I'm off to a new hospital.
Chicago General, actually, if that's okay with you.
Did that when I was twelve.
Well, now they have a surgical procedure that helps people with O.C.D.
It's possible they can take away your compulsion, Erica.
Take it away?
Life awaits.
Meaningful friendships, inspiring work, independence, your place in the world...
They're all just waiting outside your door.
Now imagine if that door was locked.
No key, no side exit...
You're trapped while everybody else blossoms around you.
That's what it feels like growing up with a mental illness.
So, while gamma knife surgery can disable the
Neurological circuit where this patient's O.C.D. impulses form.
It can't make up for lost time.
Surgery can't teach us how to take care of ourselves...
Or how to recognize feelings like love or loss...
Or possibility.
We all have to figure out who we are beyond our diagnoses.
It's a long process.
That begins with learning how to trust our own minds again.
Of course,
there are plenty of mental illnesses that cannot be fixed with surgery.
But as Mr. Lewicki no doubt discovered during his whirlwind weekend.
Neurologists are a crazy bunch...
Crazy enough to believe...
That if you could discover a viable cure for one illness.
Then, eventually, you'll discover a cure for the next one.
Which means...
There's hope for all of us.
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