- [Under police arrest, Officer Simmons is lying in a hospital bed when he senses someone in the darkened room]
- Carl Elias: It's just me, Officer.
- [Elias leans forward in his chair into the light]
- Officer Patrick Simmons: Elias. What do you want? Quinn and I are bust. HR is dead. Nothin' else to do but to rub my face in it.
- Carl Elias: Not really my style.
- Officer Patrick Simmons: Then why the hell are you here?
- Carl Elias: Well, there remains a debt. Civilization rests on the principle that we treat our criminals better than they treated their victims, that we not stoop to their level.
- [pause]
- Carl Elias: But you and I are outliers; we're not really a part of civilization. We're something... older. Which means, of course, that we can do the things that civilized people can't. I offered to kill you for Detective Carter many times, and she always said no. She was civilized to the very end. I don't think she liked me. But I liked her very much. You killed her. So now I consider it my responsibility to fix the particular problem that is you, Officer Simmons.
- Officer Patrick Simmons: You really think you're gonna be the one to kill me?
- Carl Elias: [laughing] No. No, my friend is going to kill you. I'm just gonna watch.
- [Elias leans back in his chair as his right-hand man Scarface approaches Simmons with a garrote and proceeds to strangle him to death]
- John Reese: Simmons. I want his exit.
- Alonzo Quinn: Loyalty. That's why Simmons came after you and Carter. Loyalty. That's how we built this whole damn thing. I'll be damned if I repay that loyalty by breaking it now. Even if you threaten to kill me.
- John Reese: You see? That's why you and I understand each other. Now, everything you do is an abomination. But your word Your word is your bond. To your godson. To Carter. You do what you say. So do I. I'm not gonna threaten to kill you. I'm going to kill you... whether you tell me or not. No bargaining. In three minutes... you're dead. I've killed many people. Never bothered me much. That's why I was good at it. I didn't like them suffering, though. Took me years to figure out how to do it quickly, painlessly. But if you don't tell me, I'm gonna forget all of that. Understand? And I'll make the last three minutes of your life last forever.
- Detective Lionel Fusco: [to Shaw] Tell me why we're listening to the crazy chick who kidnapped Glasses.
- Root: [approaching Fusco from behind] In your right pocket, you have eight-five cents. The change from your morning coffee run. In your apartment there's an old photo of your father at the Franklin Park Zoo taken when he was a child. He's feeding a lion cub. Do you know what that cub's name was?
- [Fusco shakes his head]
- Root: Lionel. That's where your name came from. I promise... I'm here to help.
- Detective Lionel Fusco: [turning back to Shaw] Just when I think life with you people couldn't get any weirder, one of you takes it to the next level.
- Therapist: Yeah, well, part of my job, Lionel, is dealing with cops who act tough and end up eating a bullet because of a cascade of untreated post traumatic symptoms. Now, you can hide your real feelings from everyone else, but with me, you need to get real.
- Detective Lionel Fusco: Alright. This is a safe place, right? Doctor-Patient, confidential, all that, right?
- Therapist: Yes. Everything you say here is completely protected. Use this time to unburden yourself.
- Detective Lionel Fusco: [chuckles] It wasn't a good shooting.
- Therapist: Well, I'm sure you might feel that way, but...
- Detective Lionel Fusco: [Interrupting] it ain't got anything to do with feelings. You see, Jules shot an off duty rookie last year. Twenty four years old. Kid had a baby on the way. But good drug dealers can afford good lawyers, so Jules walked. I had been tracking him for weeks, just waiting to get the guy alone. And there he was, walking out of a bodega with not a care in the world. No protection either. He saw me. He knew why I was there. I could see it in his eyes. So I smiled at him... just before I put two in his chest.
- Therapist: You killed a man...
- Detective Lionel Fusco: [Interrupts] No. He got the Devil's share.
- Therapist: The... what?
- Detective Lionel Fusco: That's what we call it when a guy like Jules gets his. it's the way the world evens things out. Guy got what he deserved. And you wanna know how I've been sleeping? Like a baby. But thanks for letting me unburden myself.
- Officer Patrick Simmons: Get it over with, will ya?
- Detective Lionel Fusco: That's just it. I could've been just like you, a bottom-feeder who turns on his own kind. For what? Money, power? I got lucky. I had a partner. She was good for me. For a lot of reasons. She reminded me that I could be good again too. i could be a good father, a good friend. A good cop. I'm not gonna let you undo all the good she did. Carter saved my life. She - she saved me from myself. Because she believed in me. And I'm not gonna throw that away on a piece of crap like you. Patrick Simmons, you're under arrest.
- Detective Lionel Fusco: Someone t-boned him then interrogated him while the car burned. Guys in the front might make it. Guy in the back may make a good bag of charcoal. Witnesses put our pal, the psychopathic vigilante, at the scene.
- Harold Finch: Which one?
- Detective Lionel Fusco: You mean both your stray dogs are off the leash? This was the handiwork of tall, dark and deranged. And I shudder to think what the other one's up to.
- Harold Finch: I have reason to believe that one or both of them are looking to track down and kill Simmons.
- Detective Lionel Fusco: We all want Simmons. Piece of crap killed my partner, then went after my kid. But the scorched earth campaign is only gonna make Simmons harder to find, not easier.
- Psychiatrist: I've been working with the survivors of the ferry bombing earlier this year. Their trauma is similar to yours. More extreme, of course. Many of them experience a sense of responsibility for what happened.
- Harold Finch: Survivor's guilt. I'm familiar.
- Psychiatrist: Well, then you're also familiar with what I'm about to say next - that you think your friend's death was your fault. Otherwise, you'd have to face a very painful truth.
- Harold Finch: Which is what?
- Psychiatrist: That you are not God. You don't control who lives or dies. That powerlessness also means that your friend's death is not your fault. I assure you, Mr. Wren, in time, the guilt you feel will pass.
- Harold Finch: Let me ask you a question then. Does survivor's guilt pass when everything that has happened actually is, in fact, your fault?
- John Reese: Sorry... but I need a word with the man you're protecting.
- Lead Marshal Pollack: You just attacked a dozen marshals. Sorry's not going to cut it.
- John Reese: They'll need some aspirin. Maybe a little physical therapy - move.
- Detective Lionel Fusco: [stuck in the backseat of a car with Root] If I'd known about the carpooling arrangements, I would have driven separately.
- QMI Manager: We need to discuss the Loftin case.
- Sameen Shaw: Caucasian male, 83, presented with acute pneumonia.
- QMI Manager: I know the case, Dr. Shaw. I also know about your interaction with the Loftin family. You walked into the waiting room eating an energy bar and proceeded to tell the Loftin family that their father was dead.
- Sameen Shaw: Because he was.
- QMI Manager: And, presumably, you were hungry. You managed to revive Mr. Loftin four times. You went to truly heroic measures to save their father, and yet, all the Loftin family will remember is the doctor who gave them the worst possible news while she was eating a candy bar.
- Sameen Shaw: We should be going after Simmons. Reese got his location.
- Harold Finch: Sometimes you have to make choices, Ms. Shaw. We've already lost a friend. I don't intend to lose another - not tonight.
- Sameen Shaw: I can't believe we're gonna let him get away.
- Root: The machine never said Reese was the only one planning to kill Simmons.
- Sameen Shaw: We got a problem.
- Harold Finch: You couldn't find Mr. Ransone?
- Sameen Shaw: We found what's left of him. Someone used him as an ashtray before putting a bullet through his head.
- Detective Lionel Fusco: Reese has really gone off the reservation this time.
- Sameen Shaw: Nah, Reese doesn't even smoke.
- QMI Manager: Let me ask you this Do you care if your patients live or die?
- Sameen Shaw: Of course.
- QMI Manager: But does it hurt you? I've been watching you for some time, and it doesn't seem to bother you.
- Sameen Shaw: This place is filled with doctors who don't care if their patients live or die.
- QMI Manager: No, this place is filled with doctors who pretend they don't care. But you're different. Aren't you? Your attendings all say the same thing about you - technically brilliant. Remarkably calm. They can't spot what you really are.
- Sameen Shaw: And what's that?
- QMI Manager: You know the DSM backwards and forwards, Doctor. You probably diagnosed yourself in your first year. A diagnosis which meant that you never should have been accepted into this program.
- Sameen Shaw: I watch the others. I watch the fear creep into them. I watch them make mistakes, and you think these feelings that I'm lacking make them better? You'd really rather have one of them working on you instead of me?
- QMI Manager: Yes. Because if If the only thing motivating you is technical mastery, when one of your patients needs you the most, then this job just might start to bore you. That's the difference between fixing and healing. You have a brilliant mind, Sameen. And you're very gifted. But you'll never be a doctor.
- Sameen Shaw: [after Root finishes shooting a group of armed Russians through the 2 inch wide panes of glass in a door wile standing 2 feet away from the door] OK, that was hot.
- Harold Finch: Did you see Reese?
- Sameen Shaw: Gone by the time I got here.
- Harold Finch: We have to stop him.
- Sameen Shaw: Why? One less dirty cop-killing cop sounds good to me.
- Harold Finch: Setting aside your somewhat binary moral compass, Ms. Shaw, you should know that Mr. Reese's injuries are life-threatening.
- Sameen Shaw: All right, Harold. We'll play it your way. But if Reese doesn't wanna be found, our only way of tracking him is by finding Simmons ourselves.
- Yorke: [Hanging from the ceiling] Take me down, you bitch! I told you everything I know.
- Yorke: [Fusco and Finch walk in]
- Yorke: Hey! Hey, hey. Hey, guys, call the cops!
- Sameen Shaw: You wanna take a crack at him? My gun hand's cramping.
- Detective Lionel Fusco: Guy's not looking so good. Did you break his legs?