The morning sun bathed Seattle Grace Hospital in a golden glow, casting an aura of familiarity and anticipation. The air buzzed with the energy of a new day, each step echoing in the expansive corridors that crisscrossed the intricate tapestry of medicine. For Emma Grey, these hallways felt like home, a place where her aspirations and familial ties converged.
As they walked through the bustling corridors, Emma couldn't help but marvel at the monumental structure that was Seattle Grace. The walls seemed to echo with the shared history of healers, the heartbeat of the hospital pulsating through each floor. It was a place that had witnessed triumphs and losses, a living testament to the resilience of the human spirit.
In a moment of quiet reflection, their steps led them to the surgical wing, the heart of the hospital's transformative capabilities. The familiar sights of dedicated professionals in scrubs and the distant hum of machinery affirmed her sense of belonging. She had aspired to be a part of this world for as long as she could remember, and now, she stood on the precipice of realizing that dream.
The morning sunlight streamed through the windows, casting shadows that danced along the walls as Emma wandered through the corridors. As if guided by an invisible force, their steps brought them to the assembly of interns in the locker room, gathering to listen to the seasoned Chief of Surgery, Dr. Richard Webber.
"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Seattle Grace Hospital," Dr. Webber's voice resonated, commanding attention. His words, like a prelude to the day's unfolding drama, carried the weight of experience and the promise of interconnected stories.
"Each of you comes here today hopeful, wanting in on the game. A month ago, you were in med school being taught by doctors. Today, you are the doctors. The seven years you spend here as a surgical resident will be the best and worst of your life. You will be pushed to the breaking point. Look around you. Say hello to your competition. Eight of you will crack under the pressure, and Two of you will be asked to leave. This is your starting line. This is your arena. How well do you play? That's up to you," He said
The assembled staff listened intently as Dr. Webber spoke, his words weaving a narrative of healing, compassion, and the shared journey that defined the essence of Seattle Grace. Emma sighed and looked at her big sister. She could read her mind, they were both screwed. Emma's gaze then wandered across the room, her eyes meeting familiar faces, colleagues with whom she would share the challenges and triumphs that awaited them.
The speech concluded with a palpable sense of unity, each member of the Seattle Grace family poised to embark on their daily journey of healing. As the room emptied, Emma lingered for a moment, absorbing the profound words that echoed in the air.
It was in this post-speech hush that Emma found herself making eye contact with Arizona Robbins, the charismatic pediatric surgeon she had encountered earlier. There was a spark of recognition, a fleeting moment of connection that hung in the air like a promise of something yet to unfold.
Arizona, seemingly caught off guard, hurriedly turned away, disappearing into the labyrinth of hospital corridors. Emma, her curiosity piqued, decided to follow the thread of fate that seemed to pull her towards this enigmatic woman.
—
"Okay. Martin, Robinson, Bond, Parkins," a random doctor called out. A few other interns hurried out of the locker room after him. Emma then wrapped her stethoscope around her neck quickly.
"There are only six women out of 20," Meredith said while looking from her sister to a Korean woman tying her hair up beside them. Emma vaguely remembered her name to be Cristina? from the small introduction they had at the mixer a while back.
"Yeah. I heard one of them is a model. Seriously, like that's going to help with the respect thing?" Cristina scoffed.
"You're Cristina, right?" Meredith said. She nodded, "I'm Meredith and this is my sister, Emma." she said. Emma nodded at her while fixing her scrub top.
"Which resident are you assigned to? I got Bailey," Cristina said while continuing to get ready.
"The Nazi? Yeah, us too," Meredith said. Emma nodded again.
"You got the Nazi? So did I. At least we'll be tortured together, right? I'm George O'Malley, uh, we met at the mixer, you had a black dress with a slit up the side and strappy sandals," a male intern said. Meredith, Cristina and Emma shared a quick look with their eyebrows raised. George then sighed. "Now you think I'm gay," he said.
"Uh-huh," Cristina hummed, while hurriedly walking away towards the door.
"No, I'm not gay, it's, ah, it's just that, you know, you were, I mean, you were very, unforgettable," George stuttered,
"Don't worry I'm gay too no need to hide." Emma winked at George causing him to go red in the face.
"O'Malley, Yang, M Grey, E Grey, Stevens," a doctor called. Emma followed the doctor out of the door and into a corridor, everyone else following behind them. A blonde girl walked in line next to Emma and Emma immediately knew that she was most likely the model, as she was very pretty.
"Bailey?" Cristina questioned while looking at the doctor.
"End of the hall," He gestured to the end of the hall. They all then followed his hand and looked and saw Dr. Bailey. She was short, black and a bit overweight. She looked harmless. Emma wondered why she was called the Nazi then, but then remembered what they say about short people.
"That's the Nazi?" Cristina said confused
"I thought the Nazi would be... the Nazi," Meredith said while quickly looking at Emma raising one eyebrow and Emma shrugged.
"Maybe it's professional jealousy. Maybe she's brilliant, and they call her Nazi because they're jealous. Maybe she's nice," the blonde girl said.
"And.. let me guess. You're the model" Cristina said. The blonde gave her a look and then moved in front of everyone to greet Dr. Bailey. The blonde smiled and held her hand out.
"Hi, I'm Isobel Stevens, but everyone calls me Izzie," she said. Bailey eyed her before looking the other four over.
"I have five rules. Memorise them. Rule number one: Don't bother sucking up. I already hate you, that's not gonna change."The group filled with nervous laughter, the sisters exchanging knowing glances. Bailey then motioned to some things piled up on a bench. Some paper, pens, stethoscopes and pagers. "Trauma protocol, phone lists, pagers. Nurses will page you, you answer every page at a run," Bailey started walking away. "A run, that's rule number two" She then gestured to them to follow her. "Your first shift starts now and lasts forty-eight hours. You're interns, grunts, nobodies, the bottom of the surgical food chain, you run labs, write orders, work every second night till you drop and don't complain!." she said.
Bailey then opened a door to a room filled with bunk beds.
"On call rooms. Attendings hog them, sleep when you can, where you can, which brings me to rule number three, if I'm sleeping, don't wake me unless your patient is actually dying. Rule number four, the dying patient better not be dead when I get there, not only would you have killed someone, you would have also woke me up for no good reason, we clear?" she said. Meredith then raised her hand. "Yes?" Bailey said.
"you said five rules. That was only four," she said. Bailey's pager beeped
"Rule number five, When I move, you move," she said, darting down the corridor. Everyone then followed her quickly.
As Bailey's rules echoed through the hallway, Emma couldn't help but glance at her sister, sharing a silent moment of understanding. They were both part of the same challenging journey, navigating the intricate rules and expectations of Seattle Grace.
