"Dr. Stone would you please ready the patient." Says Cat Valentine as she pulls on a pair of latex gloves.

Kendall's eyes widen. He takes in the madness of a girl who's been trapped for too long. She arrived with his husband which means she was over seas involved in what ever sick twisted game they've all stumbled into here at Grey Sloan. He wants to help her but he remembers her and what she did. He remembers christmas all those years ago and how abandoned they all made James feel. He too is guilty but he's not about to slice into a young mans chest to employ some psychotic tyrannical terrorist attack.

The tape says there's a poison in the air. Causes deranged thinking, a collapse in the immune system, and a break down of the organs. There's a cure hidden in the patient. Poor Pierre is to be poked, prodded, and harvested to save them. There are a million ways this could go wrong but Car Valentine has played this role before and she's not backing down.

"Cat." Says Detective Stone, "What are you doing?"

She looks up at Lucy with madness in her eyes, "We're running out of time. Not only are we responsible for our lives we have been given jurisdiction over his life as well. Play the role Stone, you're a detective out there so you know your drugs. Right here- right now- you're a doctor. Morphine, please."

Lucy shares a glance with Kendall and they're sharing a flashback where they're both kids at palm springs hiding in their shrub hats spying on their friends and getting into trouble. Latex gloves are not shrub hats and the open cavity of a living human being isn't teenage antics. This is insane.

"Dr. Knight. Care to assist?" Lucy asks trembling with fear.

He swallows hard. There's no way out of this except through.

The young man on the table is weeping but his face is expressionless. He's sad but it's only coming out through his wide puppy dog eyes. Pierre is alone and surrounded by three people who have accepted their orders to flay him.

Ever so softly he whispers, "Just let me die. It's not worth it. Kill me and take what you need. Don't make me suffer anymore."

No one hears him though. He's too quiet. Too defeated. The world has broken him and love has died so why would the universe reach out with a merciful hand now?

Lucy shivers as she realizes, her hands moving over the IV bags and the syringes, that there's nothing here to really help there situation. She speaks calmly despite her insides begging her to scream, "We can't put him to sleep. We can only numb his pain."

"No." Says Kendall, "We're not doing it. We'll find another way to get the cure."

Cat, who's pulling her mask up over her nose, tries to calm Kendall down. She says, "When we played our games we didn't have morphine. I watched a guy get drenched in acid, I watched a girl cut off her own leg, I watched your husband crawl through eels, scorpions, and ice cold water to save lives. I myself nearly drowned in the guts of moldy decaying animals. This is nothing. I know how to begin a bilateral dissection and if we manage to find a surgeon here, which we will, we can fix any damage we cause. That monitor back there shows his X-Rays. I know the general area to search for these viles. We can do this."

Lucy reaches her hand across the table to him, "I agree with her Kendall. We have to try."

He steadies himself. When his mind has finally stopped racing he can see the ways this might work. It gives him clarity enough to be able to do something about their situation. He hangs an extra blue sheet near the base of Pierre's neck to block his view from what they're about to do. He's patched enough clothing to know how to stitch someone back together, he feels. This could work.

He presses his open palm to Pierre's cheek and tells him, "We'll be quick. We're going to pump you full of morphine so you wont feel it. I don't want you to worry, okay."

Pierre blinks and another trail of tears falls down his face.

"Central line placed." Says Lucy as she tapes over the injection site on his arm.

They wait. Nerves work their way in and out of their spines as they process what they're about to do. The silence is killing them.

"Anybody got anything they want to confess before we do this?" Asks Kendall.

Lucy gasps, "Oh, I got the results from your request. You and Carlos are official guardians of the boys."

A small flutter ripples through his chest and he tries to bank on the joy as dark of a situation this is. That's wonderful news. If he lives tonight he's officially a parent.

Polo, unseen, smiles to himself in the corner of the room. He watches as the spirit of Adele floats over to the table to kneel down before the patient.

She whispers to him, "Whenever you're ready, I'll take you with me."

His eyes find her and he's swarmed with panic at first and then he eases. Maybe he could go with her to the land of the dead. Maybe that would be easier than this. Less to stress about. The mortal coil, here on Earth, can be so violent. Death would be better than this. Then suddenly he's got a pristine pressure in his chest and he can't breath. His fingers and his toes curl sharply and he whines with no ability to move his jaw.

"We have to stop!" Kendall shouts, "He can feel it!"

Lucy interjects but Pierre is unable to see her beyond the wall of thin fabric in his way when she says, "Of course he can feel it. Morphine numbs pain, it doesn't take it away completely. Eventually his psyche will create a way for him to get out of this. Weather he passes out, hallucinates, or some third option, something will happen."

"What if he dies?" Asks Cat.

Lucy's cold whisper cuts him as she says, "Maybe."

What would it truly mean to die for Pierre? He'd convulse if he could move but he's lost the ability to reach the muscles in his feet and hands. He's gone limp. His face is turned to the corner where Polo sits in hysteria watching him be dissected. Kendall's right; he can feel it. The hands inside him, the sloshing around of his intestines and his guts, even the pulling on his bones as everything is shifted.

Suddenly he's remembering the streets of Paris and he can faintly hear the soundtrack to the film, 'If Beale Street Could Talk' and Nick is jumping up on his waist. That blonde hair; the faint scent of pine; the wild smile. How sweet they were together. Images flash quickly of the valley; of rolling together in the grass; of the mountain side and the ocean down below. Then the only memories remaining are those of him sitting alone in his house with an indent on the mattress next to him where the american would sit and silence in the living room as he sipped coffee and waited for the sun to rise. Nick is gone. He's not coming back. So what's the point in holding on. Darkness comes in spots. Like blindness but only in so few areas swirling at him instead of inside of him. It grows and grows until at last he's blacking out.

"Quick! Him first!" Says Lucy.

They're all covered in his blood and Kendall is fast at work attempting to fasten the boy back together that the three of them just tore apart. Cat has five cartridges in her grasp and she nods as she watches Kendall's quick fingers weave a tight stitch in and out of the long gash she'd cut open. One bright pink tube falls into Lucy's open palm and the detective is quick to twist it into the injector and sink it into the IV bag they've run along his central line. Once the whole vile as been admitted she hands the injector to Cat and Cat reloads it only to hand it to Kendall.

He looks up at her with wide eyes.

She smiles softly, "You've got people waiting for you. There's no time. Just take it."

He nods and turns the needle to his wrist. With firmly pressed lips he sinks the metal tip into his flesh and pumps the medicine in watching as the brilliant colors swirl beneath his skin and the pressure inside his skull stops. He looks up to see blood dripping from Cat's nose and out of Lucy's ears and he's quick to hand the injector back. They take their turns and when there's only one left they decide to hook it onto a chain dangling around Cat's neck.

"We'll take turns carrying it. Next person we find gets to keep it." She says.

Lucy shakes her head, "I don't think so. A number of terrible people are in here. I say we just vote on it when we find them."

Kendall nods and then points at Pierre, "What about him?"

The three of them look over at the young man who is in no condition to walk; let alone play another game. So Lucy removes her jacket and lays it gently over his exposed chest. She simply suggests, "We remember to come back for him. Pierre. We tell every person we find his name. If we don't make it someone comes back for him. We make sure of it."

Polo looks down at his hands and notices that he's being erased once more. He furrows his brow and looks up to watch as the three of them walk out of the OR just before he vanishes all together. When he resurfaces he's sitting right where he'd left. Ander is beside him on the bed flipping through channels and Guzman is curled up on the ground in front of the door.

"I'm back." Polo says simply.

Guzman's face is revealed all splotchy and red from crying and he lets out a relieving sigh as he runs over to his Polo. They clutch one another and Guzman buries his face into Polo's neck, "Where did you go?"

"I was in this game. I wasn't playing and no one could see me but Kendall and Detective Stone were there. She says Carlos and Kendall have full custody of us. Also there's a virus leaking through the building. I think we need to leave." He insists.

Ander shakes his head, "She said not to."

"She?" Asks Polo.

Ander nods, "A black woman, wearing all white. She didn't seem alive to me."

"I know who you're talking about. Okay. So, we stay." Says Polo pulling the sheet up to his neck, "It's going to be a long night boys."

Guzman crawls into the bed with them and they find warmth in one another. There is no air coming in through the ducts. The television plays on. The storm churns viciously outside. Somewhere, way out in the distance, is a scream they force themselves to ignore. Grey Sloan memorial is need of a hero.