Everett Ramos is a resident surgeon at Mercy West Hospital in Seattle, Washington. She's on the uphill climb to becoming one of the best orthopedic surgeons in the world, studying alongside her best friends and hoping one day to make a difference...
the ambiguous intensity of looking someone in the eye
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
THE WHEEL of her suitcase jams against her ankle. She tries to ignore the pain shuddering through her, the ache beginning at the top of her lateral malleolus, the screaming of her talus. But it's not so easy when she's being jostled around on all sides by tourists ready to explore the mighty sights of Bemidji. It's been a few years since she was in Bemidji Regional, but by God, it's not changed at all, still the same less-than-busy airport she's always known. The same busy lines at the vending machines, the same people complaining about the lack of stuff to do while they wait for their next plane, the same coffee cart using the same coffee beans that taste worse than decaf.
Maybe this is why she doesn't like flying.
She laughs to herself, a small chuckle that can only faintly be heard over the thunderous noise of hundreds of feet getting closer to the arrivals lounge and the wheeling of suitcases and suitcase trolleys. One of the kids being tugged forward by his mother turns his head slightly to look at her, eyebrows raising incredulously. She ignores his look. He wouldn't understand. Most people wouldn't.
It's been almost a year and a half since the last plane she was on landed in the middle of forestry. She'd been caught beneath a chair, swimming in and out of consciousness until Cristina and Meredith set her free, Arizona's screams faint in the distance. Lexie, Mark and Derek had been with the tail end of the plane. They'd spent a week out there, starving, bleeding, freezing. Her whole world crumbled around her as she pressed her back against the scratchy bark of the tree and tried, desperately, to let the darkness take her. The last time she ever saw Lexie Grey, her cold, blue body was being dragged away by a rabid pack of wolves. Sometimes, she still wishes she had come back in a body bag.
But, yeah, blame the airport for her fear of flying.
The crowd starts to dissipate. There's cheers and yelling and the awful sound of tears as people are reunited with their loved ones, or old family members they haven't seen in a while, or friends who have finally come home. Taxi drivers hold signs with names in bold lettering, boredly waiting for a face to appear in their line of sight so they can get on with it. Holiday reps wave and hold clipboards above their head, yelling the names of hotels for their guests to find them, jumping much too excitedly on their toes for a job that seems more like a drag than anything else.
