Original subtitles

Keep on packing, okay, bud?

You didn't have to come.

I wasn't going to.

Turns out I'm the only one who actually knows what's happening today.

I mean, I figured I would tell everyone else after.

Well, I actually wasn't talking about everyone else.

I was talking about Theo.

He's in there bouncing around like he's going to summer camp.

- What'd you tell him? - I-I didn't tell him

he was going to summer camp.

I told him Deidra's going to take him to meet some cool new friends

who he's going to live with for a while until she finds him a new place.

He'll adjust.

We're debating on which stuffie is gonna make the cut.

I need both.

Oh, yeah? Well, come on, bring them over here.

Let's see.

- There's one. - Look at that.

- We got them both in. - Everybody wins.

- You all set to go, Theo? - Wait.

So the rest of this stuff I can just send, right, once he's settled?

There's no room for anything else at the group home.

I'm sure that there's a lot of people that would appreciate a donation.

And do you have any leads on a placement yet?

No, we're working on it.

I almost forgot.

You know,

I don't know if that one's gonna be able to squeeze on in.

But it's for Christopher.

He really likes this one.

Theo, that's… that's really thoughtful of you.

Thank you.

Chris is gonna love this, okay, buddy? High five?

Okay. We should go.

Hey, hey.

I just wanted to say that it's been really nice

having you stay here, Theo.

I'm gonna miss you.

Okay. See you, Buck.

- Say goodbye to Eddie. - Bye, Eddie.

Bye, Theo.

I was gonna wait until your birthday, but I wanted to make sure you're free.

They were a little expensive, but this is a celebration.

No, you deserve to be celebrated, Mom.

A concert at the Bowl is the least I could do.

I know it isn't always an easy raising...

Yeah, yeah, I'm okay. I just tripped over a branch.

Mom, I'm gonna have to call you back.

I was told when I took this gig, it was a desk job.

Turns out there's a lot more hiking involved.

Officer, what are we looking at?

A jogger called in a body around 9:00 this morning.

I was first on scene. Gunshot victim.

We found his wallet. ID has him as Mr. Chip Larson.

Looks like a single tap to the chest, point blank.

- Any sign of a weapon? - Nothing yet.

Rules out suicide.

You see the blood pattern, look unusual to you?

Well, that close gets messy.

No spotting, no spatter, just a single trail running up the body.

- What are you thinking? - Well, if you get shot while standing,

the blood runs down.

If you're prone, it blooms outward.

When does it drip up?

I'm still not sure I like Brussels sprouts.

But you ate them all.

I'm sorry, I thought you were familiar with teenagers.

Now, there's a vegetable I don't miss.

Are you even eating anything that hasn't been covered in batter or deep fried?

There were some peas in my fish and chips the other night.

He figures you can't ground him in New Hampshire.

Oh. Do not bet on that, young man, because where there is a will,

there's a credit card and several thousand airline miles available.

You know, I wouldn't mind a visit,

and you wouldn't have to have dinner at 4:00 in the afternoon.

We can all eat at 7:00.

We miss you too, sweetheart.

Why did we agree to let our son attend school on the other side of the country?

Well, I believe someone said that it was an excellent opportunity

and that we would be terrible, selfish people

if we stopped him from doing something that he really wanted to do.

Oh, that person sounds like an idiot.

I still love you though.

And that is everything.

Thank you, sweetie.

Why didn't Buck and Theo come to dinner?

They had other plans.

Okay, maybe next week.

Yeah, maybe.

I'm so sorry. I should have warned you.

You didn't tell them?

Not yet.

But given Mara's own experience, we feel like we need

to be careful in how we talk about it.

You guys are responsible parents

who actually care about their children's well-being.

Eddie, look, I know you don't agree with Buck's decision,

but I don't think he made that decision because he didn't care.

Hen, you weren't there.

He acted like Theo was going to some field trip.

The kid didn't even understand what was happening.

Well, maybe that's for the best.

Buck realized he was in over his head before Theo got too attached.

We've been where Buck is.

The choice he had to make seems simple until you're the one making it.

We were able to find a way through it.

But we had each other. What did Buck have?

Hope. And a willingness to try.

- There's the birthday girl. - Hey, Dad.

Mom. Sorry we're late.

You're never late to your own party. Happy birthday, sweetie.

It's my little girl all grown-up.

- Happy 21st, baby. - Thanks, Dad.

How about a toast to make it official? Champagne?

Maybe some sparkling water.

For your 21st birthday? Live a little.

What you need is a lovely rosé. Andres?

Just a soda for me. I'm driving.

Good man.

Okay.

- What am I gonna do? - I think you're just gonna have

- to tell them. - What am I supposed to say?

"Congratulations, your baby is all grown-up and she's gonna have a baby?"

You know they're gonna be thrilled.

I know. I'm just stressing.

Hot meat coming through.

- Hey, Cotter. - Happy birthday, kiddo.

- Thanks. - How about a couple of smash burgers

- for you two? - That sounds dope.

Wait till you try my secret sauce.

- Remind me, that's uncle… - Not an uncle.

- He's just my parents' friend Cotter. - Hey, honey.

Here you go, angel. Your first adult beverage.

What's the matter? Would you prefer a pino?

No, it's just… Well…

What is it, sweetie?

What Jules is trying to say is…

Jules.

Jules, honey, what's wrong?

Oh, my God.

- Anyone here? - Hurry.

Our daughter Jules, she can't breathe.

- When did it start? - When I handed her the rosé,

and then her neck just started puffing up,

- and then… - She puffed more.

What's wrong with me?

It looks like anaphylaxis.

You said this is rosé? Does she have an allergy to sulfates?

- Oh, she didn't actually drink any. - Maybe something stung her.

O2 sat's at 94 and dropping, but BP is normal.

All right, Epi, first line of defense.

- Quick poke, okay? - Okay.

Heart rate's spiking. O2's falling.

Cap, I don't think this is an allergy.

All right, I need you to open your mouth as wide as you can, okay?

Cap. No way a laryngoscope's getting down there.

I can't intubate for the ride to the hospital.

- We might need to crike her. - What does that mean?

It means they have to cut her throat.

Wait, don't do that.

Use this.

"Icatibant."

- It tracks. - What tracks?

All right, prep her. I'll tell the physician on call,

get clearance to use it.

What's happening?

Icatibant is a prescription drug used for hereditary angioedema.

Hereditary what?

It's an inherited genetic condition that causes swelling attacks

brought on by any number of various triggers…

- Inherited? - …like stress and food, hormonal changes.

The doc says we're clear. Let's do it.

Nice catch, Dad.

Oh, I'm-I'm-I'm… I'm not her father.

I'm her father.

He was just the best man at our… wedding.

Oh, my sweet God. Sonya. Him? And his special sauce?

- It was just one time. - Once was enough.

- That sauce must have been pretty special. - Right?

How's that stuff working guys?

Give it a second.

There we go.

All right, O2 sat's back in the 90s.

All right, we need to get her transferred.

Is the baby gonna be okay?

- You're pregnant? - What?

She's seven weeks.

Jules, that's wonderful.

They'll check you at the hospital,

but I think you and your baby should be fine.

Mitt. Honey…

I'm gonna be a grandfather.

What are she and that baby gonna be to me now?

You'll be Dad. And Grandpa.

Biology doesn't always determine who the parents are.

Or your kids.

- Hi. - Can I help you?

We're looking for John Lee. He was just admitted.

Are you family?

Yes. Yeah, we're family.

- Oh, you didn't I have to come. - Yes, of course we did.

Who's taking care of the babies?

Nancy, and she said that she can stay the whole night if we need her to, okay?

Where's the doctor?

Dr. Hoffman.

Excuse me, Dr. Hoffman.

My name is Howard Han. This is my wife, Maddie.

I don't understand what's happening here. I talked to him last week.

He was fine. He said he was a little tired and now he's in a coma?

Medically induced. Best guess, he injured himself last week.

He cut himself in the garden. He said it was no big deal.

Unfortunately, the cut was probably deeper than he realized.

- Cellulitis? - Yes.

Sounds like he may have ignored some of the early signs,

and for a patient his age, an infection can escalate fairly quickly.

- How escalated are we talking here? - Sepsis.

We start him on strong broad-spectrum antibiotics for his infection

and vasopressors for his BP.

But the antibiotics aren't guaranteed to work.

Even if they do, we're looking at a long list of possible side effects.

Brain damage, organ failure or loss of limbs.

I don't want to be an alarmist,

but I want everyone to understand what we're battling.

All this from a cut?

Are you the power of attorney for your father's healthcare?

No, he's not my father.

We're all very close but not legally family.

I see.

And since your husband doesn't have an advanced directive on file,

would you happen to know his wishes?

He wants to live.

I mean, beyond that, we really haven't made any decisions.

Right, Howard?

Yeah, yeah.

What do we know about our victim?

Chip Larson.

White male, 62, lived alone, no roommates, no pets, one ex-wife, deceased.

Two adult children we're still trying to locate.

We know that wasn't his first time at that park.

The health app on his phone has him getting in his 10,000 steps

along that same path every morning.

Turns out all the cardio in the world won't stop a bullet to the chest,

or so I tell my trainer.

Empty wallet, no shoes.

That's either a random daytime robbery or meant to look like one.

I'll check and see where we are with the CCTV footage from the area.

Okay. I'll get into his emails and pull up his financials.

Or we could charge the guy we have in holding.

And we all go home right now.

Captain Callahan. They have somebody?

Uniforms canvassing the park picked up a transient

living out of a lean-to not 50 yards from where your victim was found.

Is that it?

I mean, I can imagine that the park is home to more than a few of unhoused folk.

Well, this one was wearing a dead man's shoes.

Oh, and he confessed.

So, how are you feeling?

You seemed overwhelmed at the hospital.

Yeah, well,

it really threw me seeing John like that.

And I feel awful for Anne.

I mean, one day he's fine, the next they're asking her about DNRs.

She's got to be terrified.

Yeah, I think maybe she was wanting you to weigh in on that.

It's not my place.

You know I love them like my parents, but they're not my parents.

Okay, but aren't they?

I mean, we see them all the time. The kids call them Grandma and Grandpa.

All I'm saying is John is sick and you were Anne's first phone call.

Doesn't that mean something?

Well, of course Anne knows we'll always be there for him.

But a decision like that, it's-it's overstepping.

Last thing she needs is me sticking my nose in.

Right.

Marshall Gibbons, 56, army vet.

Did three tours overseas. Decorated officer.

In and out of the system, rap sheet for petty larceny.

No history of violence.

Unspecified schizophrenia spectrum.

And now a confessed murderer.

Let's see how well that holds up.

Hello, Marshall.

I'm Detective Newell.

I understand that, you told some of my colleagues

that you were in the park this morning.

I stay there sometimes, in the park.

And did you see this man?

I like it there in the park.

I can hear birds there, finches.

I think it's peaceful.

And sometimes people disturb that peace?

Sometimes.

And what about this man?

He doesn't bother me.

- He's dead. - And you know how he got dead?

Shot.

Clean one through the heart.

- That'll do it. - Who shot him?

You told the officers that brought you in that it was you.

He was there. I was there.

He died. I took his shoes.

Did you kill this man for those shoes?

No, no.

- But I did like the shoes. - Marshall,

if you really did this, where's the gun?

What'd you do with the gun?

Well, it grew wings right there.

And flew away up, up.

Like the finches.

- Enough of a confession for me. - From a confused schizophrenic?

Results of the GSR.

He lit up for gunpowder residue and the victim's blood, so charge him.

And find the gun.

We got a line on the victim's kids.

They'll be here in an hour.

And what are we gonna tell them?

I'd say the truth, except you got a look like you're having a bad feeling.

Well, as my son might say, "The math ain't mathing."

- We've got Marshall's confession. - From a diagnosed schizophrenic?

- We've got the gunpowder discharge. - And no gun.

We're gonna find that gun with Marshall Gibbons's prints on it,

and you're gonna sleep a lot better.

Hey.

When did you say Mr. Larson's kids were coming?

- An hour. - We should…

Ask them about this.

I'd give you $20 right now if you tell me what you're watching.

Not watching. Just using it to drown out the voices in my head.

This isn't loud enough for that.

Those voices offering any helpful insight?

This morning I was thinking about that whole DNR situation,

and I realized it would be so much easier to pull the plug on my actual father.

I mean, he's earned it.

You ever miss your dad?

I mean, I miss a dad, the concept of one, but not the man that I didn't know.

I mean, I see John with your kids, and I can't help but wish

that Denny and Mara had that.

Yeah, he really does love them.

And he also loves you.

He's never said that.

I mean,

have you?

I mean, you refer to him as John,

and the guy that you barely speak to as your father.

Feels a little bit backwards.

You know, after my dad went back to Korea,

John was there for me.

And after I lost my mom, he and Anne took me in.

And they became everything for me.

And then when Kevin died…

You lost everything.

You know, Anne was quicker to forgive me, but John…

He and I didn't speak for a couple of years,

and even after he came back into my life,

I've never really been sure where he and I stood.

You could always ask.

And find out that I really am just a family friend?

Or you could be there for John.

And say all the things you never said.

Before it's too late.

It may already be too late. I mean, he's in a coma.

He's still here.

It's not too late.

- Davie. Mace? - Maz.

Maz.

We appreciate you coming in on such short notice.

It's no problem, really, but the-they haven't told us why.

I'm sorry to inform you that your father was found dead

in Millhouse Park yesterday morning.

Oh. Sorry, was there more?

Because this is really one of those meetings that could have been an email.

- We thought you might want... - Detective.

Our father wasn't much of one.

He was a nature photographer, Nat Geo, Condé Nast.

He took empty pictures of faraway places and not a single one of us.

He was gone all the time. He was gone for prom.

- He was gone for the big game. - Gone when Mom died.

Yeah.

We raised ourselves with nothing and no one but each other,

so if you'd told us literally anybody else

from Bigfoot to Charles Manson had been killed,

well then… …maybe we'd care.

Yeah, that would've been a tragedy, but Chip Larson, dead in a ditch,

well, he died the way he lived, I guess.

Are you aware that your father had recently taken out a life insurance policy

naming the both of you as beneficiaries?

- What? - You're kidding.

No, no, I had… I had no idea. …

That says a million dollars.

When do we get the money?

- You know I have a career, right? - You got a Twitch account.

I have 38,000 followers.

- People watching you play video games. - I don't just play video games, I stream.

That's right. Yeah, very different.

- It is different. - You didn't want to go to college.

Fine, but until you can Twitch yourself out from under my roof,

you can do a real day's work.

And making mulch is real work? Shredding garbage into more garbage.

No, Son.

Taking waste and making something useful out of it.

Here. Put this on.

Thank you.

So, how do you work this?

This, you don't get near. That, you start sorting out.

You check for anything metal,

nails, barbed wire, anything non-wood, you discard.

You can't have none of that going inside the chopper.

Hey.

And try to avoid the splinters?

Yeah.

Gloves, Santi. Gloves.

Hey, Julio, the damn roll is jammed again!

So…

Son of a…

Please, my dad, you have to help him. It's all my fault.

- He's in that? - He got sucked into the blades.

I didn't know he was in there. I didn't mean to turn it on.

All right, Hen, Eddie, let's try and get his status.

Harry, Robbie, use the impact wrench. Let's try and access that machine.

I'm Hen. This is Eddie.

We're gonna check your vitals and get you some fluids, okay?

Okay.

- Can you feel anything below your waist? - Not really.

It doesn't really even hurt.

It should hurt, right?

Well, you're in shock, so it might not.

All right, BP is at 89 over 51. Pulse is 137, Cap.

Is he responsive?

- Awake and alert. - All right, keep him stable.

I'll let you know what it's looking like on this side.

One more thing, Cap, he says he can't feel any pain.

Copy that. Guys, let's go.

Come on, let's get this tin can open. Let's move.

Is my dad gonna be okay?

We're doing everything we can to help him right now.

Can I see him?

Please, I need to see him.

Not right now, son, just let us work, okay?

Dispatch, how long for USAR?

It was 20, now it's 30. There's a pile up on the 405.

What else do you need?

A miracle and all the whole blood you can get to me.

Oh, my God.

All right, guys, listen up.

Do not touch that blade unless I tell you to, all right?

- Yeah, we got you. - Copy that.

Malloy, let's extend that aerial for extraction.

Come on, let's go.

How bad?

It's not good.

Looks like the machine is tangled up and is clamping his wounds.

It's the only thing keeping him alive right now.

So what's gonna kill him first, crush syndrome or massive hemorrhaging?

It's a toss up either way.

I don't think he's gonna make it.

If we had enough whole blood, we could maybe keep him alive for transplant.

Oh, yeah, I already ordered up that miracle on that score.

Looks like LA traffic's not cooperating.

Does it ever?

Damn it.

All right, here comes our cap.

I'm Captain Han.

What's going on? How come I don't hear the saws anymore?

We're still trying to get you out, but the situation is not looking good.

Am I gonna lose my legs?

Listen, we won't know the extent of your injuries until we get you out.

Okay, so get me out.

Listen, your son wants to speak to you first.

What? No, absolutely not. He can't see me like this.

Tell him we'll talk after.

Yeah…

Right.

There's not gonna be an after, is there?

We don't know that for sure.

But the odds are not in your favor.

Your son wants to speak to you. I think you should let him.

Well, damn.

Okay.

- Yeah. - Okay. All right. Okay.

Santi.

Hey, Dad.

Dad, I'm so sorry.

This is all my fault. I'm so sorry.

No, Santi, it was an accident. That's all.

I'm so stupid.

Don't you talk about my boy like that.

He's not stupid.

He's smart and he's kind.

And you're not gonna blame yourself for anything that happens here.

Do you understand me?

Yes, Papa.

I know I'm hard on you sometimes.

That's just the way I was raised.

Your grandfather, he didn't always have the words.

But I never doubted that he loved me and that he wanted the best for me.

And that's what I want for you.

I know that.

I love you too, Dad. You don't need to say.

These firemen here, they don't think they can save me.

But you know what? It's okay.

Because you did that already.

The day you were born.

Dad. Dad. Dad. What's happening?

BP is dropping.

All right, son, let's clear out of there so we can help him.

Son, come on, come on. Let's go.

All right, let's cut him loose.

All right, we're set over here.

Three, two, one.

Trauma pads are soaking through.

BP's 64 over 30.

- Pull us another bag of saline. - He doesn't saline, he needs blood.

I don't see anyone coming down that road.

- Lost pulse. - Switch.

Yes, Maddie!

How we looking?

All right, I've got a pulse. He's coming back.

Dispatch, I love you.

I'm here. I'm here, I'm here, I'm here. I'm right here.

Son.

You got a splinter.

Lucky man.

It's not every day we get to say what we need to say,

or hear what we need to hear.

Do you recognize these people, Marshall?

Sure I do.

Yeah, I'm good with faces.

Yeah, I see faces everywhere.

I live in a park, so, people go up, people go down.

Some smile, some spit.

And these two faces?

Did they ask you to kill their father?

Like Shakespeare.

Like a good soldier, I shoot where I'm pointed.

And how did they pay you?

Money. Food.

Now we got motive, opportunity, a conspiracy.

The case is stronger today than it was yesterday.

Marshall, I've got some other cases that you might be able to help me with.

Would you be willing to do that?

Sure, if I can.

What the hell is she doing?

Where were you November 22nd, 1963?

Dallas. Dallas, Texas.

And who instructed you to kill President Kennedy?

Lyndon Johnson.

Jimmy Hoffa.

Could you tell us where you buried him?

They got you doing the homework by hand still.

I thought died with answering machines and cassette tapes.

I'm writing a letter to Buck.

- What kind of letter? - An angry one.

You're angry with Buck?

You don't give up on your kids.

He didn't want to. He felt like he was hurting Theo.

It'll hurt more that Buck sent him away.

But Theo's young, and he's been through a lot.

But he'll bounce back. He might not even remember all of this.

- A lot of kids don't. - I do.

- Chris… - You came back.

Theo needs a dad that always comes back.

Okay. What do you got?

A hunch. Strange one.

I got about 10,000 photos from across the globe,

any one of which will win a Pulitzer.

- So he was talented. - Very.

I also got ten emails.

To his kids, all heartfelt. Longing to make up for lost time.

No reply.

So what's strange here?

Lots of correspondence with a hobbyist shop.

The, subject line: Weather balloons.

"How much helium would I need to lift two pounds?"

Well, that's easy.

Look at all these photos. Most of them are high-altitude.

Photographers use those balloons to get these shots.

They support the weight of the camera.

What else weighs about two pounds?

Excuse me.

Are you supposed to be in here?

It's okay.

He's our son.

I love you, John.

I love you.

- I love you. - I love you too.

We found the gun that killed Chip Larson.

You're kidding. Uniforms searched that entire park.

Well, it wasn't in the park.

It took some googling of prevailing winds and more stairs than I like,

but we found it on a rooftop.

Marshall Gibbons's prints on it?

No, but the killer's are.

All right, I'll play. Who killed him?

He did.

Go ahead.

Chip had retired.

His job was his life for 40 years.

He travels the world.

Comes back home to a dead wife, two kids who hate him

and no place left to plant roots.

He walked that park every day, chewing on grief, on regret.

He couldn't go back, he couldn't stay.

So he took out a policy

hoping that a million dollars would be enough to say, "I'm sorry."

The problem is he was healthy.

He's got no natural causes to look forward to.

I mean, where's cancer when you need it?

And he couldn't punch his own ticket because then the policy wouldn't pay out.

But he's a photographer,

and he uses balloons to stage his own landscapes,

so he develops a plan.

Remember what Marshall said about the gun?

That it flew away.

He attaches it to his 9-millimeter

with enough helium to carry two pounds

up and over the hills.

He lines up the shot. He pulls the trigger.

Remember the blood splatter?

Droplets.

Somehow above the wound.

From the muzzle as it's pulled upwards,

dragging, dripping down on the man as he fell down.

Okay, maybe that explains the gunpowder on the victim's hands,

but not on Marshall's.

But it does in a way.

Well, Marshall wasn't some crazy

looking to kill somebody for a couple of bucks and some size tens.

He was a lonely, sad man with no home,

holding the hand of another lonely, sad man with no home

as they watched the evidence float away from them.

The smoking gun, up in smoke.

I'll be damned.

- But either way you slice, Captain… - The case is cleared.

Good job. Very, very good work.

All right. I guess somebody has to tell these kids

they're not about to be millionaires.

Well, I will gladly be the one to make that call.

He looks good. Calmer than before.

Oh, he's been on his meds a week running, courtesy of the state.

It's a shame.

The minute he leaves here, steps foot out in those streets,

he's right back home with no home at all.

Maybe. Probably.

Unless he has help.

Detective Grant?

Ms. Gibbons?

Erica Gibbons. Yeah.

Thank you so much for your call.

It's been a long time.

We've been looking for him, but just…

Never knew where he…

Your father's not well, Ms. Gibbons.

But he's in there, waiting.

Dad?

Hey.

Had the Uber drop me off in the driveway. Shorter walk.

What the hell happened to you?

It doesn't matter. C-Can we talk?

It's, a pizza offering.

Get it? Like a peace offering.

Oh, you guys already ate.

And you had company.

You gotta be kidding me.

- What the hell is Theo doing here? - He lives here, for now.

- What do you mean he lives here? - It's an emergency placement.

- All right? Deidra... - You-You called Deidra?

I didn't want him going to some stranger's house.

That's not your decision to make. He's not your kid.

He's not your kid either.

You made that clear.

How is this even legal? You have to be certified to foster.

I am certified.

Well, look at you.

- Always the hero. - It's not about me, Buck.

- It's also not about you. - Really?

'Cause it feels like you're trying to prove something.

Or maybe you're just…

Maybe you're just trying to shame me.

Is that even possible?

Or maybe it's about your shame.

See, you walked out on your own kid, didn't you?

What is this, some kind of karmic way to make up for that?

You need to go. Now.

I'm already gone.