Patrick

Who's there?

(Classical music blaring over headphones)

Sebastian.

Sebastian!

Hmm?

A word.

You have to give me something, Sebastian.

Something more than this.

Project scope.

Repatriation of the long-term comatose.

Hmm.

Progress report:

on track.

Hmm. Two words.

I gave you a page of space. It was supposed to be a hint.

What did you want me to do, write an essay?

I don't have time, and they wouldn't understand it anyway.

I know that. You know that.

But do they want to hear that?

You're the chairman, for God's sake.

I'm the chairman of a pack of sharks.

They smell blood in the water,

they'll rip me to pieces.

You know the business I'm in.

It's not medicine.

It's PR.

And I can't pretend that that nurse business helped either.

Though I'm not responsible every time so prepubescent

gets cold feet and decides to bugger off.

Look, don't bring the curtain down on me.

I'm closer now than I've ever been.

You better be.

You bloody well better be.

I can give you two months maximum.

Then you've got to come up with some of your own magic.

Right?

Right.

You're getting soft in your old age,

you know that?

I feel that my...

I know that my...

I'm sure that my--

Oh, shit. Shit, shit.

Hello?

Hello?

Matron Cassidy?

You're early.

Oh, the GPS on my phone knows where I am before I--

Follow me.

Well, you certainly seem qualified,

academically speaking.

But we're engaged in more than theory here.

Oh, I'm excited by this opportunity--

I can't afford to take any chances.

We don't have that luxury here.

Traumatic brain injury stream.

Yes.

Result?

High distinction.

The eye characteristic a grade 2

on the Glasgow Coma Scale.

Oh.

The subject opens eyes

in response to painful stimuli.

Patient has been in a vegetative state for several months.

What are the complications to the digestive system?

An excess secretion of stomach acids.

With an increased risk of gastric ulceration.

So you're an expert.

Are you going to tell me how to do my job?

No, Doctor.

Mm-hmm.

We're doing remarkable things here.

Are you ready to do remarkable things, Miss Jacquard?

Yes.

Yes, I am.

Hire her.

The pay is minimum, the hours abominable,

and I reserve the right

to terminate your employment without notice.

Agreed?

Hmm. Not a bad fit.

It's almost new, too.

The last one wasn't around long enough to get it all grimy.

What happened?

Mmm... I don't know.

I came in one day and the ice queen told me she was gone.

Got the impression she went AWOL.

This place has a revolving door on it.

I'm the only one stupid enough to stick around.

Oh, shit. Sorry.

I'm not selling it very well, am I?

Crusty old place, isn't it?

Used to be a convent.

Rooms no one's been in for years.

Bit of a maze, really.

Couple of the other nurses reckoned it was haunted.

But the only spook I've ever seen around here is Cassidy.

She's not exactly friendly, is she?

It's mostly bark.

Still, you can't really blame her for being a bit cranky.

She grew up in here.

No dolls or party dresses for her.

Just Dr. Roget and the zombies.

Oh, she grew up here? What do you mean?

Yeah. You didn't know?

She's his daughter.

I suppose they don't advertise it.

It's kind of cute in a creepy way.

Went to the family business.

I have heard that she did have a life once outside.

Well, a husband, at least.

: Supposedly he offed himself.

: I can hardly blame him.

What's the doctor like?

Roget?

Um, lives in his own world.

Down in the lab most of the time.

Strictly off limits.

But you're the, um, specialist.

You'll be helping him out up here.

My strengths are bodily fluids and sponge baths.

Ready to meet the party crowd?

Car crash, motorcycle,

complications from brain surgery,

stroke, boot to the head, unlucky,

and hit a sand bar diving off a pier.

My God.

What about visitors? Relatives?

Count them on one hand.

People end up down here

because they're pretty much forgotten.

It's an involuntary muscle reaction.

It doesn't mean anything.

Sorry. I know.

You'll get used to it.

At least you'd better hope you do.

Nurse Williams.

A moment in my office, please.

Whatever pickup line he used, it worked.

Patrick, Kathy. Kathy, Patrick.

He's pristine.

The muscle tone.

There's no wasting.

How?

Electrical treatments. Drugs.

I don't really know.

He's Roget's special project.

What happened to him?

Some kind of accident with his family.

I think he was the only survivor.

Hello, Patrick.

I felt like it was on purpose.

Oh, if there's one thing about our friend Patrick,

he doesn't do anything on purpose.

It's an involuntary-- Muscle reaction.

You're learning fast.

Hello?

(Alarm clocks ringing continuous)

That's fine. Let him go.

That's fine. Well, fine for him.

That's Mr. Fraser,

our resident athlete.

What happened to him?

Electrical explosion.

He was a railway signalman, whatever that is.

Come on.

He's obsessed with time.

Well, being on time.

On time for what?

Shh.

: Come here.

He does it every night.

Sometimes he sits up there till the morning,

just to switch it off.

It was Roget's idea.

He was a total basket case

before he had something to focus on.

The thing hadn't been switched on in years.

Why is he here?

I mean, he can definitely walk.

As far as I know he came in the normal way:

on his back, dead to the world.

Roget managed to wake him up.