The Institute

Previously on The Institute...

What about Mr. Stackhouse's reporter?

I got her the job three years ago

just for this kind of eventuality.

But you do know, in certain cases,

our subject's true value-- an infinitely higher value--

might lie elsewhere.

Uh...

Don't worry.

The microphones on this corridor

are experiencing a temporary malfunction.

Find a kid with potential for A PC development

and develop him.

Ellis, you mean.

Police! Get down on the ground!

- Hey, hey, Mr. Dobira. -

Drew, ambulance, man! You got this, bro.

Uh, uh, yeah.

Nice job, Drew.

Thank you, Chief.

What we really need is a super powerful TP.

See inside the minds of the staff,

even the stuff they're hiding.

This one's strong.

I've never felt one so strong.

Ask and ye shall receive.

["Shout" performed by The Lumineers plays]

Level B.

Early bird gets the worm, huh, Tony?

Shut up.

Hello again, Luke.

Feeling ready for some more tests?

Spry? Sprightly?

Uh, yeah, I feel... great.

Have a seat, please. You've got another shot.

Just a quick prick.

Lots of shots, just like the Army.

Because I'm a conscript, right?

Hop up.

-Here we go. -Do we really need these?

It's for your own safety, champ.

Now, hold still.

Yeah, I'll find a vein...

eventually.

-Ah. There. -

What's that?

Ah, give him a few seconds.

There.

See? All fine.

No need to intubate.

What did you just do to me?

Nothing. You're fine.

Do you wear corrective lenses?

-No. -Must be nice.

Look straight ahead.

Look straight ahead.

Keep looking at the screen.

If you look away once, Tony will slap you.

If you look away a second time, he'll shock you.

It's low voltage but painful.

Eyes on the screen.

Tell us if you see the dots.

Eyes on the screen, pal.

Okay. I'm shutting it down.

I didn't expect him to see any dots today.

Oopsy-daisy.

Okay.

Night shift takes its toll, huh, Bedelia?

You two have a good evening.

Wake up, pal.

There he is.

Are you with us, tiger?

Can I...

I'm gonna go back to my...

room.

Can I go and lie down? I'm sick.

The disorientation will pass, although I would skip lunch.

I have another little test, so pay attention.

A correct answer will earn you tokens.

Ready?

What is it?

It's a card.

Please let me go back to my room, please.

I'm--I'm tired. I feel sick. Please.

Fucking boo-hoo.

What is this?

A dog taking a shit! The Brooklyn Bridge!

A killer whale! You're outta your fucking--

- -

Next time, try not to be such a pussy.

-You got a minute? -Yeah.

You still owe an Incident Report for the other night.

Yeah. What happens if I don't write one?

Then we send Drew's report by itself

to the Bangor DA's office.

Basically, it becomes the official version.

Sounds like a plan.

Drew's report's a little fuzzy on who did what.

"An improvised bandage was fashioned

to address the victim's wound."

Drew and I had Mr. Stacey for 11th grade English.

He'd be scandalized to hear a former student

using the passive voice.

I'm not sure what you want me to say.

If this is the only report they get,

the geniuses in Bangor will credit Drew with all of it,

think he's just too modest to say it straight out.

They might even take it upon themselves

to hand him a medal for his trouble.

So?

It doesn't bother you

to see people treated as heroes for shit they didn't do?

I guess not.

Anyway... all's well that ends well.

Gunmen were taken alive at a rest stop near the border,

and Guataale Dobira's off life support,

expected to recover.

You know our closest ER is in Acadia?

Took 'em almost two hours to get him there.

Doc says no way he makes it without that bandage.

So...guess Drew saved his life.

You're not a fugitive or something, are you?

- What? -I'm just trying to figure out

why you're so set on staying out of this.

I spent a lotta years thinking

that I needed to involve myself in everything.

You know, be the guy to fix what was broken.

So, you came here to not be involved?

Something like that.

But you still run towards gunfire

even when you don't have a gun.

Old habits, I guess.

And, hey, I know you didn't ask,

but you might want to try cutting Drew some slack.

He's doing his best, you know.

I cut Drew plenty slack.

Okay. What about me?

What about you?

You might wanna try cutting me some slack.

-Why would I do that? -Because I'm a nice guy, Wendy.

Nice guys don't have to tell you they're nice.

If you say so.

-How's he doing? -How are any of us doing?

He's the real deal. My TP is like...

listening to a podcast with the volume all the way down

or people talking in another room, at best,

and then it just fades to nothing.

But Avery, he talks to me like a voice in my head.

He's able to pick out names,

even ones that I'm not thinking about.

You think being that strong a TP

might make you weird.

I mean, 'cause most kids have to learn how to read cues

and judge their parents' tone of voice

so they know what's going on around them.

Avery... just knows.

You can trust me.

I can help. I wanna go home.

I hate it here, just like you guys.

Hey, do you want some milk in your cereal?

Yes, please. And a banana.

Sure thing, babe. I'll get it.

You're so mad. Just... ouchy mad all the time.

Thanks, Sha.

Luke likes you, you know. He likes you a lot.

But she likes Nicky, and Nicky doesn't even care.

He knows but doesn't care.

He's been hurt a lot of times...