Biology determines much of the way we live.
From the moment we're born, we know how to breathe and eat.
As we grow older, new instincts kick in.
Oh.
- We become territorial. - Towel?
Oh.
Ow!
- Oh! Sorry! Sorry. - Jeez.
Yeah.
You know this isn't normal?
We learn to compete.
- Let's go, Torres! - Oh, shoot.
- I told him we'd work out this morning. - This is like working out,
- it's just more fun. - Come on, no pain, no gain!
- Go away, Mark! - What?
Be nice. He's lonely.
- Did you just say my? - Oh!
Right. Nice.
- You finish. I'll wait. - Uh...
- We seek shelter. - Take a look at some
of the fine details up here.
It was built around the turn of the century.
- These are the original doors? - You bet.
Wait till you see the upstairs.
Antique hardware on those windows. That's a cool fireplace.
You know, it's really a lot of space.
If we knock through this wall, we'd get all that light to flood through.
You like the fireman's pole?
Hm...
OK, um, this could be our house. I kinda need you to care.
We'll think about it.
Most important of all?
We reproduce.
I drank a lot of tequila in college.
- After. - It's been a while
since I've done OB rotations,
but I don't recall tequila getting in the way of conception.
- It's the opposite, actually. - I could have, uh, endometriosis
- or adhesions or... - She's gonna come in here
and she's gonna say everything's fine.
Sometimes biology can turn on us, though.
So, we have a few things to discuss here.
Yeah, biology sucks sometimes.
Hostile? Did she really call my uterus hostile?
Are you forgetting what she said after that?
What? About my hostile uterus causing me to miscarry the first time?
Or the likelihood that it'll happen again?
- That there is a treatment, she said. - Hostile.
- You're just getting stuck on a word. - How would you feel
if she called your penis angry or snide?
That's a good point. But the important thing is that you're healthy.
Just think of all the fun we're gonna have trying now.
I'm late for rounds.
- You paged? - Did you know that bariatric centers
are some of the leading money-makers in hospitals right now, Dr. Bailey?
- I have rounds... - That's interesting, considering
that Seattle Grace doesn't have one. Do you know why we don't have one?
Space, Dr. Bailey. We don't have enough space.
Oh. Chief, OK, if you go anywhere near
my Denny Duquette Memorial Clinic, you'll come to work tomorrow and find me
and every nurse who loves me chained to its doors.
We need money, Bailey. Ever since the shooting, we've been in survival mode
when we need to be in fight mode. Ground-breaking surgery mode.
Back to number one ranking mode.
It's my turn to have Cristina Yang on my service.
That's all the fight I have in me today.
- Hostile uterus. - House hunting with my husband.
At least it's not cancer.
At least you're calling him your husband.
Oh. Baby steps. Whatev.
Hey. Do you know how long
April and Jackson are planning to stay in the house?
- As long as they like. Why? - April's taken over lzzie's room.
Which was fine when it was temporary, but I live in the attic.
And I sleep next to Christmas ornaments.
April's best friend just died.
She's all alone.
I'm not evil, it's just...
She's annoying, OK? I find her annoying.
Really? I find you much more annoying.
A car ran into a Laundromat! Multiple traumas!
- I'm not wrong. - Hm...
Pretty annoying.
You coming?
Baby steps don't include multiple traumas. You go kill it.
Ooh! Hi. You need to start sleeping with Mark again.
- I do? - Yeah. For my sake. You do.
He won't leave us alone, at the apartment, at work, in our bedroom.
It's like I'm dating Mark against my will. Come on. Twice a week. That's all.
I am not baby-sitting Mark for you. Besides, I'm too tired for sex
with anyone right now. I was up all night dictating charts. Again.
There's a thing called a resident that can do that for you.
Yeah, and my resident is Avery.
Still knocking over trays in the OR?
Yes, and scribbling patient orders in his third-grade scrawl,
and paging me in the middle of the night for patients who are nowhere near dying.
- At least he's nice to look at. - True.
Thank you.
You just got called a dumb blonde.
Can you find out about my husband? His name's Larry.
- He was in the car with you? - No, he was in the Laundromat.
I hit him! I don't remember anything. I was in the car outside the Laundromat.
The next thing I know, the car's inside the Laundromat
- and there's screaming and... - OK.
Do you want to order her labs or take her scans?
You can take her. Take it all. Taker.
- What? - Lost vitals in the ambulance bay.
Get me epi and charge the defibrillator now!
That's him! That's my husband!
It's... Is he gonna be OK?
I cannot go out this way.
I can't die in a freak Laundromat accident. Ow!
- Sorry. - You cannot find anything wrong.
I'm supposed to go to Brazil next week.
- Rio. - I just perfected my accent.
I'm fine. How are you?
Nope. I just asked you if you had a condom.
'Cause that's the one sentence I learn before traveling someplace new.
Yeah. Now, you totally think I'm a slut.
No, I don't. Um... Take a breath for me, please.
It totally makes you think I'm a slut.
Until I tell you I have Huntington's Disease.
Yeah, you're not gonna find it on the chart.
The paramedic was so cute, so I just didn't mention anything,
because the whole fatal genetic condition,
- it just doesn't scream sexy. - Have you started showing symptoms?
No. My, um... my mother died.
So I got tested for the gene. She was 45, so I have about ten years left.
Five, if you count the ones I can actually enjoy.
Well, the accident shouldn't affect your Huntington's.
I know that. I'm just telling you so that you get that you have to work
really hard to fix me. Because I can live with the fact that I'm gonna die.
But to die doing laundry? No.
I wanna accidentally fall off the Eiffel Tower because the three men
and the multiple orgasms were too much.
You should've seen it, Dr. Robbins.
His "pottaballet" kicked the other kids' asses.
- It's pas de bourrée, Dad. - Isn't that what I said?
You said it in American, Fred. It's French. Right, sweetie?
Yes. And it's not something that you really kick ass at.
Can we talk about the cancer now? Anything to make them stop?
Yeah. Um, Dr. Karev?
Jake Fisher, 15, osteosarcoma of the right tibia.
Today he'll be getting a minor bone dissection.
How long after the surgery before I can dance again?
He's anxious 'cause his ballet company's doing Swan Lake this spring.
It's like his Super Bowl.
Jake, your recovery will depend on today's scans.
They'll tell us how much the chemo shrunk the tumor.
But trust me, we will have you back
on your feet as soon as possible.
Can you tell me when the pain started, Mr. Fink?
A few days ago. I'm a biologist. I'm in the middle of an experiment...
Pan!
Oh! Stop!
Don't take that anywhere! That could be research lost.
Sir, you're very sick. You need to put aside your work for the moment.
It's not just work. It's a cure for asthma.
- What? - Dr. Bailey?
- Just get rid of the vomit, Yang. - I don't think you want me to do that.
There's my cure. Isn't he beautiful?
Research has found worms produce an enzyme that cut down on allergies.
- I'm applying the theory to asthma. - You eat worms?
Yang. How long do these experiments last?
Mm... Standard is a month or two, then I take the anti-parasitic to pass them.
But I can extract more enzyme the longer I grow them.
A year's pushing it, apparently.
You've had these worms inside you
- for a year? - 343 days, to be exact.
I haven't had an asthma attack in six months.
Dr. Bailey?
My, they've grown.
You have a nasty bowel obstruction, Mr. Fink.
- You need surgery. - Oh, no, that won't do.
Surgery will throw off the entire experiment.
- I'd like another option. - Sir, OK, I'm sorry, but...
It's three years' research, Dr. Bailey.
Research you'd be contaminating the minute you cut me open.
OK. Dr. Yang's gonna give you fluid and put an NG tube down your nose
to open the obstruction. It will be painful.
And if you don't improve in a few hours, you're getting the surgery.
Option two it is then.
- You know he's crazy, right? - Crazy's relative, Yang.
In fact, some people might say that missing rounds this morning
when I'm in charge is crazy behavior, too.
But here I am, trusting you to take care of my patient.
Maybe I'm the crazy one. What do you think?
Am I crazy to trust you to take care of my patient?
No. But I haven't been swallowing worms.
His pain's not too bad. That means his tumor probably shrunk, right?
- If the chemo did its job. - Guess who just scored a table
at that new sushi place that's impossible to get into?
- No way. - 8:30, table for three.
- You know, I don't eat sushi. - Yeah, you do.
Yeah. I did, but then I got sick
after I ate one of those pre-packaged rolls at the cafeteria.
Bad memory.
- You two go. - I'll change the reservation to two.
- What? - Torres, you should see this.
God, I hate this job sometimes.
Lila, your CT shows that you have a ruptured diaphragm.
So you're gonna need surgery. How will we proceed, Dr. Avery?
Part of your stomach's gone into your chest,
so we'll place your stomach back and repair the diaphragm with mesh.
Dr. Grey, do you agree?
I would do a direct repair with suture instead of mesh
- because the defect is so small. - That's right.
Dr. Grey, draw pre-op labs. You're scrubbing in.
Lila, do you need us to call anyone?
No, it's just me.
But I would really like it if he would wait by my bedside.
Yeah, you and every other woman in this hospital.
- I'll see you in the OR. - Thank you.
Oh, please tell me you've gotten to make out with that.
No. Married. So no.
That's a bummer.
- Any babies? - Uh, no.
But thinking about it.
Um, did you need me to scrub in, too?
The question should be, "May I scrub in?" Like you want to.
Right. It's... May I?
No, I think I've got all the hands I need.
Dr. Altman.
I know, I've been off my game lately,
and you've suffered because of it.
But right now I need you to give me another chance.
OK, please?
I... I want to scrub in. OK?
OK. Yeah. I just, um...
OK. OK.
- Mrs. Davis's scans are clean? - So is her ultrasound.
- I think we should do an EEG. - Really? Do you think that's?
She lost control of her parked car, has no memory of how.
So I think that's necessary.
But you outrank me, so whatever.
Well, sure, fine, let's do it.
Um... Hey, how would you feel if I started a chore wheel at the house?
The boys are so messy and I did one with Reed at our old apartment.
And you'd be surprised how well it works.
Are you moving in? Like, permanently?
Um... Why? Do you think that's not OK? Should I talk to Meredith about that?
That's up to you. But I wouldn't bring up the chore wheel.
Meredith would hate that.
- Hey. How's our reckless driver? - Uh, she's not reckless.
She may have had syncope or a seizure.
Hey, Mer, Lexie and I were just talking about the housing situation...
- If this is about lzzie's room... - No. It's not about lzzie's room.
It's about a chore wheel. April would like to start one.
- That's a great idea. - What?
Great. I'll set it up tonight. Hey, um, how'd it go this morning?
- Eh! - What happened this morning?
- But you're OK, right? - Yeah, I'm fine.
- Why wouldn't you be fine? - Nothing. I have to go.
- What was this morning? - You should talk to Meredith.
What are they saying? Are they saying the chemo didn't work?
We should wait for your parents.
Oh, my God.
You want to cut off my leg.
Oh, my God.
Look there's a sprinter with prosthetics
that runs faster than guys with real legs.
There's got to be another way. More chemo...
- Prosthetics today, it's amazing... - You don't get it!
I need my leg!
- I get it. - No, you don't.
It's...
I can't explain it.
I...
Just... I'll show you.
Let me show you.
If he gets injured, this is on you, Karev.
You see that? That's my boy.
It's that... right there.
Build me a leg that'll let me do that.
- And she called it hostile? - That's...
Well, at least it's nothing too serious. I'll do research on treatment options.
- Her uterus is friendly. - It's sunshiny.
- Untouched by the scourge of man. - Peppy ovaries, too.
Hey.
The vending machine's working again.
- What? - Nothing.
Is this the same nothing that has to do with where you were this morning?
I was at the dentist this morning. I have bad teeth.
Oh, OK. So teeth are code for what?
I went to the OB today. I have massive baby-squishing fibroids in my uterus.
- Oh, that's terrible! - Eh, get over it.
- You knew? - Knew what?
- Nothing. - The vending machine's working again.
- My patient eats worms. - Dude, Altman fire you yet?
- She's not gonna fire me. - What'd you do?
She thinks he's a hot piece of brainless ass.
Oh, you're totally gonna be fired.
Situation is under control, thank you.
You got a line on any weird bone cancer treatments,
so I don't have to cut off my ballerina kid's leg?
Right, cause my memory's all I'm good for.
There was a story in the news recently where they used a cadaver bone
- to replace a cancerous one. - You get my fries.
- You paged? - Dr. Knox's sister just put her house
on the market. They just redid it, it's close to Meredith's house
and it has never been a fire station. Right?
- You paged me to talk real estate? - That,
and I thought you might want to observe.
Guy got caught between a car and a washing machine.
You don't see that kind of crush injury every day. No pressure.
Thank you. But I have to monitor worms.
- A rotationplasty? - I don't know.
It's not possible with this part of the leg.
- Fibular grafting? - Oh. No.
The cancer's seeded his fibula.
What?
You don't like Mark, admit it.
- I like Mark. - Liar.
I like him. I do. We're just... You know.
- We're different. - Oh, my God.
How are you different?
Tell me. Because I don't think you actually are.
- What? - Should I leave?
Shut it, Karev. I'm waiting.
Look, it's not that I don't like Mark. It's just that he's... Mark.
You know? What you see is what you get.
Besides, you like him. What do I care if his abs are where his soul should be?
- Oh, my God. - Found it!
I found it right here!
We don't have to cut off his leg.
- Page Dr. Bailey and book an OR. - Surgery?
No, please, can't we wait just a little longer?
Your bowel could perforate and fill your abdomen with fecal matter.
- So no, we cannot wait. - Can you at least salvage the worms
- during the surgery? - Your life is at risk
because of a hypothesis you can't support.
Otherwise, you'd have the backing of an actual, accredited institute.
So let the worms go.
I worked in those institutes my whole life.
I sat in labs, ran other people's experiments.
I was dead inside. And now, for the first time,
I know what I'm meant to do with my life. Everything else,
all my quirks, my fears, the fact that people find me strange,
none of it matters, because I know who I am.
Please.
Save the worms.
Let's get him prepped.
"Stroke, infection, heart attack, severe bleeding, loss of life."
Oh, what the hell.
- When did the chorea start? - Chorea?
I call that my spastic hand trick.
- A few months ago, I guess. - You told your doctors? They know?
- Lila. - No guilt trip, please.
I was just starting to like you.
But you need to tell your doctors because they can help.
I watched my mother go through this, Dr. Grey. I know how this goes.
After the spastic hand comes the slurred speech.
And then the trouble walking and the difficulty eating,
and the seizures and the memory loss.
And then the dementia sets in so badly that you don't know
if you're in the supermarket or the bathroom.
So screw going to the freaking doctor.
I am going to Brazil.
Ah, Dr. Grey. I can use your input.
Do you think Derek would consider putting his face on a billboard?
- That's a lot of Derek. - Pretty good picture, right?
Mm-hm.
- What do you need? - When my mother was still here,
before she retired, do you think that she ever
tried to tell you about the Alzheimer's?
No. She kept it a secret, for years.
No, I know that. But when do you think it started?
Do you think she was trying to tell you and you didn't really realize
that's what she was trying to do, was tell you?
It's possible, I guess. I don't remember...
Is everything OK, Meredith?
Yeah, it's fine. Just...
I would never go to a hospital that put its doctors on billboards.
For what it's worth.
His BP's dropped to 90 over 60, and he's showing signs of peritonitis.
Good work, Yang. You're free to scrub in if you like.
Uh, even just to observe. No one's gonna make you do anything you don't want.
I'm not ready.
Thank you, though, for asking.
OK, so we'll take out the bone and then
treat it with high doses of radiation to kill the cancer.
Thirty minutes later, we reinsert the bone back into Jake's leg.
Usually, the procedure's done using a cadaver bone,
so there's no risk of putting cancer back in the body.
But we couldn't find a match for Jake on such short notice.
So there's a chance the cancer can come back?
That's why amputation is less risky.
But if we do this, if you agree,
we will monitor Jake closely, scans every few months.
And if the cancer returns, we'll do the amputation.
But this is done a lot?
Uh, it's only been done a few times in the world.
So if we do this and if we say yes, there's a chance he'd keep his leg.
- Forever. - We hope.
It's a big risk, buddy. God knows I love to watch you dance, but...
What would you do?
- Oh, that's between you and your folks. - No. I want to know.
What would you do?
If it was my arm, and I couldn't operate anymore,
I'd do everything that I could to keep it.
We've run an EKG, CT and done blood work.
Fortunately, they've all come back normal.
You mean unfortunately. They're waiting to take my statement.
It was just an accident, Mrs. Davis. You probably just pressed the wrong pedal.
Tell that to them. They throw people in jail all the time for this.
- There's another test we can run. - What?
It's called a Tilt test. It can tell us if you fainted before the accident.
We'll schedule it right away.
Did you get approval for a Tilt test?
- No. - OK, well, I hate to pull rank here,
- but I am a year ahead of you... - We're at work, April,
there's no chore wheel.
If I want to run a Tilt test, I'm gonna run a Tilt test.
I'd throw a party.
Fly everyone to an amazing beach, all expenses paid.
I'd have to max out my credit cards to pay for it, but what do I care?
I wouldn't be around to pay it off.
- Suction. - I'd do what Lila did. I'd quit,
sell the house and bum around the globe.
How would Derek feel about that?
Ah, he could come along if he wanted.
There's something sad about that, though. Wandering around,
living in hotels, that's not a life.
This, though...
Even if I was gonna die tomorrow, I'd still want to do it.
Can I try the diaphragm repair?
- What? - The repair. Can I...
Can I try it?
Uh... No, no, you can't. I'm good though. Thank you.
Oh, he's hypertensive. Get his pressure back up!
Get some saline in here, quick. Clamp.
- I need more irrigation in here now! - Right away.
- Dr. Bailey, what's wrong? - He's perforated.
I have to evacuate this abscess. Suction.
- Can't you just use antibiotics? - If I want to risk losing him.
He needs his worms back for his research.
- The suction will destroy them. - I'm concerned
about his life now, Dr. Yang, not his research. Suction.
You did really good with this kid today, Karev. Impressive.
Which is funny 'cause I wouldn't think that you'd be good in Peds
just by looking at you.
OK, fine. I don't like Mark. At all.
- There, I said it. - 'Cause you never even tried.
- Oh... - Take Jake here.
You think his dad was happy when Jake wanted ballet shoes
for Christmas and not cleats?
No, this guy wanted a kid he could throw a ball with, you know he did.
But his son loved to dance. So he signed him up for lessons,
went to recitals and learned what there was to love about ballet.
He tried. Because he loved his kid.
Mark stares at my boobs when we talk.
He starts at my face, but somewhere along the way he gets distracted
and ends up on my boobs. And I love guys. I love them.
But I have tried my whole life to avoid the boob-staring guy.
Biology even helped me by making me gay.
But now my girlfriend's best friend is that guy,
and I don't think I need to apologize for the fact that the only person I want
- staring at my boobs is you. - Boobs? Really?
- You're making this about boobs? - He stares at them!
- 'Cause they're good boobs! - Can I leave now?
Yes. Go. Hurry.
So we had to remove his spleen and a kidney, but I expect a full recovery.
- And the girl that was inside? - She's out of surgery now.
- She's doing great. - Oh, thank God.
As for your tests, you're in tip-top shape, Mrs. Davis.
I'll talk to the police, tell them to come back tomorrow,
so you can have some time alone with your husband.
- He's not my husband anymore. - What?
Larry left me three months ago.
He said he needed time to himself, to think.
A week later, I find out he's living with someone else.
Her name's Kimmy.
She sings in the choir at our church.
Kimmy.
It's a ridiculous name, right?
This morning, I'm on my way to the post office
when I see his car outside the Laundromat.
Thirty-eight years of marriage,
and not once did he pick up a bottle of detergent.
So I pulled over.
He was inside,
folding a pair of hot pink panties.
Doing her laundry!
She wasn't even there!
Next thing I know, my car's inside the Laundromat.
I feel badly... for that...
...poor, innocent girl I hit. I'm glad she's OK.
But... I know now
why they call it the green-eyed monster.
- Mrs. Davis, I think that... - It's awful to unload on you.
I know, I know. But I figured you're used to it.
People must tell you their secrets all the time
because of the doctor-patient confidentiality law. Right?
That only applies to medicine.
No, no. You are required to keep my secrets.
No, ma'am, that's lawyers.
Dr. Avery, I need you to... Oh. I'm sorry, I'll come back.
No, no. Please. It's, uh... It's cool. What do you need?
Right.
I wasn't sure if I was making up stuff in my head, but...
...now I know.
I'm doing a CABG. How do I start?
- Wait, what? - I'm doing a CABG tomorrow.
You want to scrub in, so tell me how I start. Go.
Um, divide the sternum, open the thymus, incise the pericardium.
Then take down the mammary artery with cautery...
- Bypass has started. Now what? - Cross-clamp the aorta,
instill antegrade cardioplegia followed by retrograde...
Now, I want to take him off bypass.
Re-warm. Check the flow of grafts.
- Vent the root... - That's enough.
Good. I'm relieved.
You're actually more than the pretty face you make yourself out to be.
You knocked over a tray in my OR. You get the answer wrong sometimes.
Your penmanship needs work. None of these are fireable offenses.
But flirting, flirting into my surgery? Batting your eyes
while I'm inside a chest cavity?
I should go to the chief and have you fired right now.
I'm not gonna do that, this time.
Now, put your shirt on and take care of these post-ops.
There you are. I've been paging you.
Oh, my patient needs his worms. I'm trying to save them. Ew!
A head.
- What's going on? - Oh, I, uh, need you to take my blood.
- For what? - So I can get tested
for the Alzheimer's gene.
It's time I know, one way or the other, right?
I have a hostile uterus, what's a little Alzheimer's, too?
OK.
This is a lot bigger than a baby step.
Just do it before I change my mind.
OK.
You're still here?
I had to drop these off before I left.
It's medication for your hand. But you will have to see your doctor
and get it refilled when you get back from your trip.
- They can help you, Lila. - I'll go. Promise.
- Oh, come on. - I said I'll go. No guilt trip, please.
Biology says that we are who we are from birth.
That our DNA is set in stone. Unchangeable.
There was a complication,
but we were able to take care of it in surgery. You're gonna be fine.
- As long as you quit the worms. - I understand.
The surgery destroyed them all. I'm sorry.
Well, every experiment has its ups and downs.
How much time would you think before my bowel is completely healed?
No. If you do this again, you could die. Do you understand that?
Only if I make the same mistakes. I won't.
Decrease the quantity, shorten the time frame...
You know, wait, wait. Wait.
Why would you want to put yourself through this again?
Because I love what I do.
More than anything.
You don't find something you love that much and let it go.
You hold on to it. Throw yourself in deeper.
Our DNA doesn't account for all of us, though.
We're human.
Life changes us.
Post-ops are stable and I've ordered morning labs.
Hm. Thanks.
Sloan risked his life to save mine. Even when I was sleeping with his girl.
That's not a guy without a soul.
Maybe he's an ass who stares at boobs, but whatever.
And your boobs? You have nice boobs.
Maybe they're lesbian boobs and you don't like men staring at them,
but men don't discriminate when it comes to jugs.
You have hot boobs. And I stare at 'em, too.
We develop new traits.
I was... I was trying to stop the car...
Become less territorial.
Hey, so reckless driver turned out to be a psycho killer?
Failed psycho killer. Thank God.
She was heartbroken. Her husband left her for a younger version of herself.
- She just... - Lexie.
You know what?
I've been a total bitch to April all day because of you, you know that?
- What? - I'm gonna go...
April, just stay.
You worry about April, you let her have lzzie's room,
you talk to her about your doctors' appointments.
And I went crazy, Alex ditched me in a psych ward,
Mark slept with Derek's sister. And now I find myself relating
to the crazy jealous lady who drives into Laundromats.
April, you should go.
Lexie, I had a miscarriage that day.
April was there.
That's why she knows about my doctor's appointment.
And I did know that Mark slept with Amy.
But I didn't think you cared. I can never tell what the hell's going on
with you two. And as far as the psych ward goes,
you were not alone. I sat by your bedside for 36 hours while you slept.
You're not crazy, Lexie. You're a Grey.
We stop competing.
Change of plans. Mark, you're taking me to dinner tonight.
- What? - We're going on a date, you and I.
- Alone. - Is this to make up for the fact
- that you don't like me? - You told him?
- No, I... - She didn't need to.
Fine, let's go. But you are buying.
- Thank you. - You, uh, still want Italian?
- Eyes on my face, Mark. - Ah.
We learn from our mistakes.
Just... Boys out! Go. Just...
Take the towel and go.
Seriously, if you want the room...
I admitted I wanted to drive my car over you,
so taking the room would just make me feel worse.
But if you put up a freaking chore wheel, I'll kill you.
We face our greatest fears.
- Hey. - Hi.
Hi.
- Hi. - Hi. Mm!
What?
Um... I'm getting tested for the Alzheimer's gene.
- Oh... No. - I should know.
- We should know. - No.
My uterus is hostile. We probably can't even have a baby.
And even if we could, my brain is probably full of Alzheimer's,
so I wouldn't even remember the baby's name.
Or, even worse, I'll pass the Alzheimer's on to the baby.
Then you'd have an 80-year-old, drooling wife
and a 50-year-old, drooling kid.
- I don't care. - Derek.
I love you. And you love me.
And whatever happens, I don't care.
I don't wanna know. I mean it. I don't wanna know.
The lab already has my blood. So...
Here's what we're gonna do.
No more doctors, no more labs.
And you and I, we have a lot of sex.
Maybe we make a baby, maybe not.
Maybe you get Alzheimer's, maybe not.
Just... Screw the odds, screw the science.
Let's just live.
Whatever happens,
happens.
Be me and you.
OK?
OK.
For better or worse,
we find ways to become more than our biology.
The risk, of course...
Cristina?
... is that we can change too much.
Welcome home!
To the point we don't recognize ourselves.
It's ours. We bought it.
Well, I bought it, but it's for the both of us.
Finding our way back can be difficult.
There's no compass. No map.
- I don't know what to say. - Our house has a fire pole in it.
- What else is there to say? - You said this morning...
I don't care where we live. I really don't. But you do.
You love this place.
And I love you.
We just have to close our eyes,
take a step...
... and hope to God we'll get there.