Medical Center. Emergency Room.
"O'Malley, I'm leaving this one to you," Adam said, glancing at the elderly man who was breathing steadily but still unconscious. Noting his last name was Paige and that he had a granddaughter, he added, "If anything changes—or if his family shows up—let me know right away."
The name Paige? Pretty common in TV drama land. So Adam wasn't sure if this guy's granddaughter was the one he was thinking of.
Still, he was curious.
"Got it," George replied.
Adam headed off to tackle the rest of the ER chaos.
Before he knew it, it was noon.
Cafeteria.
"The Chief's really not retiring anymore?" Cristina asked, perking up when Adam brought it up. She couldn't help sneaking a glance at Meredith.
"Yup," Adam nodded. "No choice—the chairman begged him to stay. You saw the Chief's skills at the seminar this morning. Right now, no one's got the clout or chops to take his place."
"Shame…" Cristina muttered. When Adam and Meredith both turned to her, she quickly waved it off. "Not about the Chief sticking around! I mean it's a shame we won't get those popcorn-worthy seminar showdowns anymore."
"You should be thanking your lucky stars," Adam teased. "Give it a bit, and it'll be your turn to star as Best Actress up there. With your 'fanbase' around here, I guarantee your episode would be the wildest yet—straight to the top of the 'Seminar Popcorn Hall of Fame.' Only problem? You'd hate every second of it."
"…"
Cristina had no comeback.
Adam's jab made her realize—oh yeah, her rep wasn't exactly golden. Now that she was a resident, as attendings started stepping back, she'd soon be flying solo.
Patient deaths? Inevitable.
And when she had to present? It'd be open season. Everyone would pile on.
"I never really liked that vibe anyway," Cristina backtracked, dead serious. "You know me, Adam—I'm all about that professional academic atmosphere you're pushing."
"Heh."
Adam smirked but didn't call her out.
Truth is, if he wasn't aiming to level up, he'd have loved those old, messy, drama-packed seminars too. Watching docs get roasted, their faces twisting, some even storming out?
Not healthy, sure.
But man, was it entertaining.
Gossip and chaos? Human nature.
Like in his past life—those trashy filmmakers flat-out said, "Don't blame us for all the garbage dramas. Blame the audience—you guys eat it up!"
Shameless buck-passing? Yup.
But not entirely wrong.
Good taste is hard. Loving the trash? Easy.
Black sheep fame still counts, right?
Beep beep.
Beep beep.
Mid-chat, his pager went off.
"Gotta run—patient's family's here," Adam said, checking it and hopping up.
Emergency Room.
"Agent Paige? It's really you!" Adam grinned as he spotted the familiar figure standing there.
"How's he doing?"
Jessie Paige, the young FBI agent who'd questioned him after that patient-with-a-bomb-in-his-chest fiasco, stood there stiffly. No smile back—just a cold, clipped question.
"Mr. Johnson Paige?" Adam picked up on her vibe, dropped the grin, and went pro. "You're his granddaughter?"
"…"
Jessie paused, then nodded. "How's he doing?"
"Ms. Paige," Adam said evenly, "your grandfather was found unconscious this morning. We think he's got multi-system organ failure—heart, stomach, kidneys—plus a stroke and a bunch of other issues.
The nursing home said they couldn't find a DNR, so we've been keeping him going. He's a tough guy—he pulled through.
But his condition's critical. Do you know anything about his situation? Has he ever signed a DNR?"
"Is he in pain right now?" Jessie peeked into the room, dodging his question with one of her own.
"He's unconscious, so no pain," Adam said, frowning at her. "But if he wakes up, with his body like this, it'll be rough. So, Ms. Paige, do you know what's going on with him?"
"My head's a mess—I can't remember…" Jessie rubbed her forehead, shaking her head. "We're not close. But please, do everything you can. You said he's tough, right?"
"You sure?" Adam gave her a long look.
"Please," Jessie said, staring at Johnson Paige in the room.
"You're his family. Until we find a will, you call the shots," Adam said flatly.
Jessie nodded silently, not offering more.
"Winnie!" Adam called out.
"Dr. Duncan?" Nurse Winnie hustled over.
"Push the nursing home again," Adam said, eyeing Jessie. "Tell them to double-check everything—no missing docs, got it?"
"Yes, sir!" Winnie darted off.
"O'Malley, page me if anything comes up," Adam told George before heading out.
Whatever beef Jessie had with her grandpa wasn't his business. Stick to the protocol—that's it.
Two Hours Later. Skybridge Between Hospital Buildings.
Adam walked up to Jessie, who was leaning on the railing, staring into the distance. He mirrored her pose, holding a file and glancing at the people milling below.
"Nothing to say?"
"Not really," Jessie murmured, eyes still far off.
"The nursing home found your grandpa's will," Adam said, waving the file. "It's got a DNR. Guess who co-signed it? You, Jessie Paige!"
"Oh," Jessie said faintly. "I remember now. I was too worked up earlier—slipped my mind."
"No explanation?" Adam tilted his head toward her.
"Does it matter?" She flicked her eyes his way.
"…"
Adam paused, then nodded. "His blood oxygen's barely registering. Not a single organ's working right. I've got the hospital lawyer contacting a judge to pull the plug, per his wishes."
Before hooking him up to the ventilator, they hadn't had the DNR—so Adam had to save him. Now, even with it in hand, he couldn't just yank the tube. Legal hoops first—judge's okay—then they could end his suffering.
"Whatever," Jessie said, tipping her head back and taking a deep breath.
Adam caught the tears she was fighting back and sighed inwardly.
What kind of grudge was this?
But then he remembered—this was TV drama world, land of endless craziness. Flashes of wild, tear-soaked plots zipped through his head, softening his earlier irritation with Jessie.
Hate doesn't come from nowhere.
Especially not with blood family.
There was probably some dark, bloody secret here he'd never know…
(Chapter End)