𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐗 ━━ 𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐤 𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐝

forty nine | anniversary

"I am happy to announce that the first solo surgery will take place tonight: a below-the-knee amputation, bone cancer. Mr. Collinsworth in 2212."

"No appy?"

"Not an appy."

"Thank, God."

"Saw action. Sweet."

The chief continues with the drawling speech about the solo surgery won by none other than Cristina.

"Choosing who gets the first solo surgery isn't just about who has the best surgical skills or who's logged the most hours in the O.R.. It's about the highest form of trust — the trust to put a patient's life into one of our resident's hands. And for the first time that I can recall, every single attending picked the same person: Dr. Yang."

Cristina stands behind him with wavering eyes drifting to the ground below.

"However, Dr. Yang is out of the running. She is going to pick the winner instead. Dr. Yang will post her decision on the O.R. board at 4:00 P.M.."

The residents perk up at the indirect mention of a second chance.

"Also, since your interns are still banned from the O.R., the winner will be allowed to pick a fellow resident to scrub in with them."

I feel the knowing glance of Meredith, who stands behind me, as we telepathically agree to choose each other at the chance of Cristina picking one of us.

"Good luck."

As the residents disperse to persuade Cristina to choose them, Meredith and I stroll through the halls until we're paged.

Ask and you shall receive since the moment we walk past the pit, our pages beep. So we dress in bright yellow gowns and prepare for the worst. . .

Which happens to be two quarrelsome sisters who can't keep their mouths shut.

"You think your dad's gonna be mad, but in reality. . ." Words stop mid-sentence as I flash a light over her eyes.

"In reality what?"

"Mer, I need you to page Shepherd. Tell him to meet up in C.T.." I glance up at her. "She could have a basilar skull fracture."

I lift the bars on either side of her bed before wheeling her to the x-ray wing. While Holly lays within the chamber, the neurosurgeon promptly arrives with hands in his pockets.

"You wanted to talk?"

"About the patient. . .jerk."

Derek clicks his tongue against the roof of the mouth. "How many times do I have to apologize to you, Leven?"

"For forgetting about our anniversary or hanging out with Mark on our anniversary?"

". . .both."

With my focus chained to the monitor in front of me, he places his hands on either side of the desk before pressing feather kisses to —

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

"Code red. She's crashing in there."

He hits the red button to the side of the wall, alerting the code team of the emergency, before running into the room behind me.

Blood drips down her nostrils and cheeks and stains the hospital gown.

"She has brain matter in her blood. Let an O.R. know we're coming."

"What happened to her?"

Looking back, I see Meredith with her hands gripped to the handles of Emma's wheelchair. The young teen sees her sister laying in the C.T. machine.