Monica hugged little Adam as they left the hospital.
Time to say goodbye to the apartment.
They were off to their new suburban home—moving day joy!
Three big things, all worth celebrating properly.
Adam made sure to clear his schedule so he could join everyone for some fun.
Sure, curing diseases and saving lives to extend lifespan was the top goal. But the whole point of a longer life? To actually enjoy it! Back in the day, his lifespan was like a shaky bank account—always in the red unless he worked his butt off, or he'd kick the bucket early. So, naturally, he poured all his energy into stacking up those extra years.
Now, though? His doctor career was cruising on track, his lifespan was climbing steadily, and he didn't have to hustle like a madman anymore. Time to join in on some friend-group fun—otherwise, what's the point of all those extra years, right? 😊
---
Medical Center, ER Entrance
"Another big accident?"
Adam and Christina stood at the door with a gaggle of interns, glancing at Chief Resident Kelly.
"Not exactly a big accident. Just one patient," Kelly said, shaking her head. "But trust me, you've never seen a trauma this massive."
"Really?" Christina's eyes lit up like it was Christmas.
"Oh, 100%," Kelly said with a dramatic sigh.
When the ambulance rolled up, everyone got what she meant.
"Holy shit!"
One of Christina's interns let out the classic gasp. No one bothered to glare at him, though—everyone's jaws were too busy dropping at the case in front of them.
"What's the deal?" Adam stepped forward, eyeing the firefighters and paramedics.
Yep, you heard that right! This patient didn't just come with paramedics—there was a whole four-person firefighter crew tagging along. And the trauma? Oh, it was huge. The guy was wrapped up in a giant pile of cement—head sticking out, one hand and a foot poking free, but the rest of him? Buried in a massive concrete chunk.
"You'll have to ask them for the full story," the fire captain said, nodding toward a group of four high schoolers—three guys and a girl—trailing behind. They were giggling and messing around, acting like this was some big show. 🙄
"Melendez, Grey, go get the details!" Adam barked, then led the team into the ER.
"Help me!" The patient, Owen, saw the stunned looks on the doctors' faces and panicked, his voice shaking.
"We've got you," Adam said calmly, then turned to the fire captain. "How long's he been like this?"
"We spent three hours carefully blasting him out of the cement," the captain explained. "Before that, it seems his classmates took over an hour to even call it in."
"An hour?" The team's faces were a mix of shock and disbelief.
"Kids can be so dumb and brutal," Christina muttered.
"O'Malley, drip vinegar on Owen's burned skin," Adam ordered. "He's been trapped in tons of cement for over four hours. The alkaline stuff in there's eating away at his body.
Carter, get him hydrated. The cement's sucking up all his body's water—watch his intake. Once we crack the cement under him, be ready with a catheter to keep his bladder from bursting.
Dr. Torres, you handle his limbs.
We need to move now. The cement's still shrinking, squeezing him for hours. That's built up a ton of toxins in his system. The second we free him, his circulation's gonna kick into overdrive, and those toxins will flood everywhere.
Speed is everything! Captain, grab your tools and wait for my signal!"
"Ready when you are, Doc!" the captain replied.
Adam nodded, already running the best concrete-busting plan through his head. He directed the captain and the firefighters to start hammering away, breaking off chunks of cement and yanking them off Owen as fast as they could.
Carter hooked up fluids. George hovered nearby, dripping vinegar on the burns to ease the damage.
"What are you doing?!" Owen gulped, watching people swarm around him, chipping and hauling cement. Then he saw Kelly pour disinfectant on his leg and pull out a scalpel—his panic hit max.
"I'm doing a fasciotomy," Kelly said. "It'll relieve the pressure in your leg, or you'll lose it."
She finished disinfecting and sliced into his thigh with the scalpel.
Tap-tap-tap! The room filled with the rhythmic sound of chiseling. Under Adam's lead, everyone had a job, racing to free Owen from the cement trap as fast as humanly possible.
---
Half an Hour Later
Shorty and Lexie came back with the scoop.
"What?!" When they spilled the story, everyone gawked at Owen, who looked equal parts terrified and mortified. "You jumped in there on purpose?"
"Pretty stupid, huh?" Owen mumbled, ashamed. "I wasn't always like this, you know. I was a straight-A student, a TA even. I was never the type to jump into a cement vat like an idiot.
They dared me, said I wouldn't do it. I didn't even care what they thought. But she was watching. She was right there…"
"So you jumped in for a girl?" Christina snorted. "Shocker. You sure you're a top student? What school even claims you?"
"Dr. Yang!" Adam shot her a look.
"I know, I'm an idiot!" Owen groaned. "Now she doesn't even care. She thinks I'm a total clown. Even if I die, I won't be the guy she almost kissed—I'll just be the moron who jumped into cement and turned into a statue!"
"Don't talk like that," Adam said gently. "If you make it through, you're not that guy."
He glanced at Lexie, who sighed and shook her head. She'd talked to Owen's classmates—including the girl. It was obvious she cared about him deep down, despite acting aloof and joking with the others. Lexie had even pointed it out, and she didn't deny it.
Lexie suggested she come over to support Owen, give him some fight. The three guys waiting nearby overheard and started mocking in exaggerated voices: "Oh, Lola, Lola, hold my hand, I need you~"
She glanced at her guy friends, then flat-out refused. Lexie pushed, but she wouldn't budge. Clearly, whatever feelings she had for Owen didn't outweigh the sting of her friends' teasing.
Harsh? Yep. Real? Totally.
Adam and the team dropped the idea of using the girl to boost Owen's will to live and threw everything into saving him instead.
---
Meanwhile
Hospital staff started the usual process of calling Owen's family. His parents didn't pick up. When they dialed his brother, it rang for a while—nurse almost hung up—then a deep, magnetic voice answered: "What's up?"
"Mr. Deck Shaw?" The nurse, like most Americans obsessed with a British accent, perked up at his crisp London tone. She went from auto-pilot to VIP mode in a heartbeat, explaining the situation.
"I'll be right there," Owen's brother said after a pause, then hung up.
---
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