TRIAGE | grey's anatomy (ON HOLD INDEFINITELY)

006: "apocalypse please" (part one)

EVEN THOUGH MEREDITH AND CLEMENTINE PITCHED A BIT OF A FIT ABOUT GOING TO WORK, CLEM FOUND SHE STILL HAD TIME BEFORE HER SHIFT STARTED TO SIT IN THE ER. Second only to the operating room, which would be shiny and glowing like a halo to any surgeon no matter how many scalpels they had held, the emergency room was a point of tranquility to Clementine. She sat, still in her jeans and a pale grey cardigan that wrapped loosely around her shoulders, on one of the chairs near the nurses station, inhaling her surroundings in a meditative state. The smell of antiseptic, of betadine in the trauma room over, and fresh plastic from the snap of gloves and gowns; the familiar buzz of a nurse asking questions, the jarring noise of a medic shouting stats; and the blink of the yellowing fluorescent lights as they hummed along.

It was so pedestrian, so humanizing, that it almost snapped Clementine out of the secondary reaction she was having from Mer's prediction of their day. Almost.

She checked the time and moved out of her serene state, sprinting through the double doors and then again entering the building. She'd just barely rolled up the sleeves of her lavender henley and braided her hair when the trauma pager went off, and Clem sprinted down to the Pit again with the rest of her interns.

Clem struggled to tie the strings of her yellow trauma gown, and sighed in frustration when Alex slapped her hands out of the way to tie it himself. They were all discussing whether or not they were getting a new resident. Alex pitched in, "Doesn't matter which resident we get. They suck."

"They all suck," George moaned.

"And we'll run them off anyways," Clem chirped, trying to be her usual chipper self. "Because whether we like it or not, we signed a devotional towards Miranda Bailey and we worship at her feet."

The entire group nodded somberly, and turned towards the ER entrance. Clementine waited for Meredith, who was still behind the doors, and they walked quietly towards the entrance.

"I'm waiting for the feeling to pass," she explained to Clementine.

She nodded. "Well, let me know when it does. Then maybe I'll feel better."

They arrived at the bay just in time to hear Alex get rejected by Izzie (for good reason), and Clem gave him slightly patronizing pat on the back as she moved to stand by George.

"Which surgeon do we have to suck up to today?" Cristina was saying.

"That would be me!"

They all froze for a second before turning around to see a very pregnant Miranda Bailey in a jean jacket and looking pissed. Clem was elated. All of their residents had been bang-your-head-against-the-wall annoying, and surprisingly incompetent.

Bailey launched into one of her infamous speeches. "I have been gone two weeks. Two weeks! And you ran off two residents! I've got people phoning me at home, screaming telling me that my interns are Rosemary's babies."

Okay, ouch. Maybe they hadn't been too welcoming, but they weren't that bad.

"Nobody wants you!" she continued, and the sound of her voice berating them was oddly comforting. "Do you think I have time for this? I am pregnant! I'm supposed to be on bed rest. I'm supposed to be growing a human being. I'm supposed to be calm! Do I look calm to you? Did I raise you fools to be pariahs?"

Like her tirade was going in one ear and out the other, George pushed past them and wrapped a confused Bailey into a tight hug. Clem had begun bouncing on the balls of her feet, excited to see her favorite resident, ready to be pummeled into submission and drowning in hours of scut if it meant Bailey was the one doing it.