The Starting Line

Chapter 1

Eleanora had found the list of her interns taped to her cubby, a giddy smile falling on her lips.

She tore it off, reading the list. She quickly put on her lab coat, dancing down the slightly crowded hallways to the nurses' station outside the interns' locker room. She looked at it a little sadly, missing the comfort and schedule she had when she was a first year. But she wasn't too sad, of course. Because she was finally a resident.

Groups of interns went out in search of their residents; a small group was heading towards her. They all seemed a little nervous, too scared to speak.

Eleanora stood up straight, her eyes bright with a big smile. "Welcome to Seattle Grace!" She grabbed the pagers and protocol folders and handed them out, going straight to the spiel she knew would work.

"I have five rules. Please memorize them. Rule number one, don't bother flattering me. I don't hate you, but I sure don't trust you. You're a first year, you're bound to make mistakes, and as your resident, I'm the one who has to yell at you later."

Eleanora started down the hallway, her interns following her like little ducklings. "The things I gave you were your pagers, trauma protocol, and phone lists. Keep the binder in your locker just in case, but I hope you know every word by your next shift. Which brings me to Rule Two, "The nurses will be the ones to page you. You answer every call on the run, you never walk or jog."

She opened the door to an empty on-call room, letting her interns take a look. "Your first shift started," she looked at the watch on her wrist, "three minutes ago. It lasts a total of 48 hours. You are all interns, which makes you the grunts, the nobodies, the bottom of the surgical food chain. It sucks, but that's how it works."

"These are on-call rooms, they're taken over by the attendings, so sleep where you can when you can. Rule three, if I'm sleeping? Don't wake me up. If you wake me up, you better make sure it's because your patient is actually dying."

Eleanora leaves the room and heads towards the stairs. She stood just below her interns, turning to look at them. "Rule four, the dying patient better not be dead when I arrive. Dead patients mean yelling and paperwork, I don't like that either."

She breathed a sigh of relief once she was done, looking at her interns with pride in her eyes and a smile on her lips. One of them slowly raised his hand, his voice confused.

"Those were only four?"

Eleanora nodded, gripping her pager confidently. "Rule five, when I move, you move."

The pager remained silent, Eleanora feeling embarrassed and cringing with each passing second. After she sat there and saw her interns look at her with confused expressions, she sighed, motioning for them to leave her.

"Go to the main lobby. I'll be there soon."

They quickly left and Eleanora relaxed, leaning on the stair railing. She snorted, looking at her pager, offended.

"Couldn't you have helped me?"

Eleanora had her head in Meredith's lap and her legs crossed over Cristina's, all the new second-year residents hiding in the tunnel.

"I hate them." Cristina was startled and Eleanora sighed.

"You don't hate them. You hate yourself." Meredith pointed out, playing with Eleanora's hair.

"I think mine think I'm an idiot." Eleanora muttered, Cristina huffing.

"That was horrible, I feel like a fraud." Izzie complained. Meredith didn't look up, concentrating on the braid she was putting into Eleanora's hair.