#rhys​vitalsigns

[rhyrhy]

Vital signs ـــــــــﮩ٨ـ

Greys anatomy AU! Doctor- Abby Anderson

Mlist | moodboards | prelude (you are here)|

Prelude: Welcome to Utah 🩺

⚕️ summary: At St. Mary’s Hospital, the rules are simple. Saving lives, avoiding attachment, and never going overboard. However, staying within those boundaries is becoming increasingly difficult under the constant gaze of the head of cardio.

Move to Utah, complete your internship, simple enough. This was your plan for the next seven years, as long as that sounded. It’s what you went to med school for. With a turned tassel and optimism fresh on the brain.

Even your first night was full of being in the arms of a beautiful stranger. You felt bad for not remembering her name, but she probably didn’t remember yours either. Hopefully anyway.

The annoying blare of your new alarm clock let the light from your eyelids pour in. You sat up, pushing hair out of your face, still reminded of last night when you were still sleeping peacefully. Her warm hand on your bare thigh.

You gently lifted her hand delicately and placed it back on the sheets. You scanned over her peaceful form. Face buried into the plush pillow, dirty blonde hair draped down her back as her chest rose and fell. 

It was a complete contrast to last night, with the small blurbs you could remember anyway.

Going out with a childhood friend who helped you move before they returned to your hometown. Home was far behind you now. The fresh air, new faces, and even a wardrobe change.

This was ‘home’ now.

A constant of side glances and winks in the fumes of liquor and neon lights led your slightly inebriated bodies closer together as the night dragged. A whispered question had your fingers laced with hers, disappearing into your new bedroom and closing it with an eager click. The ecstasy of her body tangled with yours was one to remember, blurred, albeit.

The soft thud of your feet hitting your freshly mopped floors echoed out into the mostly empty room. Button ups and bralettes tossed around the wood. Glancing back at the red numbers lettered against the black screen of your alarm, reminding you that today was it. Your first day at St. Mary, known for their cardio teachings. You were going to thrive, you told yourself. This was everything you’d worked for, and absolutely nothing was going to throw you off of your game.

Not even the blonde's gentle grip on your arm as you tried to lift yourself from the edge of the bed. Mumbling something that could have Been a good morning greeting, but you didn’t have time to do the whole ‘morning after’ act.

“Mmm… you sneaking off?,” a groggy voice mumbled.

“Good morning…” Jesus, what was her name? Never mind, just play it off. “I gotta go, big day…like life-changing ‘big’”

Her grip loosened as her hand dropped back to the sheets, which definitely needed to be cleansed before you even thought about sliding back in. The blonde hummed in reply before clearing her throat with a soft rumble.

“Oh yeah? What’s that?”

You guys must not have gotten to work last night; you didn’t have time to explain fully. So, a vague explanation will have to suffice for now. It was the rest of your life, the clack of Ortho cushioned shoes and whatever would keep you awake in the dead of the morning. Though you did wonder what she did for work, even with her disheveled appearance at the moment, she was very ‘put together’ from what you could pull from your previous rendezvous.

You gathered the clothes thrown to nowhere and placed her in the bed next to her stirring figure. The blankets pooled at her waist, dragging down her half-exposed torso before she continued.

“Because…. I thought the first day of the rest of your life was last night.”

You snapped your head back to her lazily getting dressed. She finally cracks that smile that had in-traced you last night, amused at your reaction. The white bone complimented by the pink of her gums.

“You’re awfully chatty for someone who was unconscious five seconds ago.” You replied.

“And you’re awfully dressed for someone who really, really wanted my shirt off last night.” She teased, pulling up the fabric of her jeans.

Yeah, that…tracks. You huff, holding back a smile. You pin the last few buttons of your blouse together and turn back to her before leaving the room.

“Oh, come on. We were, what—three tequila shots deep? Four?” You scoffed, this was just causal fun.

The woman laughed and rolled her eyes. Picking up her phone off the large box labeled ‘clothes’ in black sharpie, that was a makeshift bedside table for the time being. A loud sigh fell before she looked back up at you, running a hand through her messy hair.

“Sure you don’t have time for a round two? Or at least coffee?” 

You froze briefly, debating. It was tempting—too tempting. But the red numbers on your alarm clock screamed at you. 

“I really can’t..., but you enjoy your morning.”

“Alright, alright, I’m backing off. I had fun though.” She put her hands up in mock surrender. 

You chuckled, grabbing your bag and heading for the door. Just as you reached it, you glanced back, taking one last look at her—sleep-mussed hair, golden skin against your sheets, a satisfied glint in her eye. Turning on your heels, keys crashing against each other as you padded down the porch steps.

The engine of the car ceased, as you pulled your keys out with a small twist. There it is, large windows, people pouring in and out. You were looking at the next seven years of your life in brick form. You took a few deep breaths and cracked the car door wide. Let’s do this, you repeated to yourself mentally. 

the cold air hit your arms as you pulled the blue scrub top on. The room boomed with lockers open, chatter, and slight anxious glances as everyone sized up one another.

These folks, other surgical interns, weren’t friends; they were competition. most anyway. You were stuffing your bag into the locker when movement to your right caught your eye. 

There was one familiar face in the sea of blue fabrics. 

Jesse.

He was mid-conversation with another intern when his gaze flicked over, landing on you. There was a pause, a brief second of recognition, before a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“Hey.”

You mirrored his smile. “Hey again.”

A short beat. You both glanced around at the chaos unfolding—people nervously checking their watches, adjusting their scrubs, some looking like they might throw up right there in their shoes.

Jesse let out a small breath, shaking his head covered in jet black strands.

“Still think this was a good idea?”

You exhaled sharply, closing your locker with a metallic clang. “Hmm, ask me in…12 hours.”

He chuckled, nodding. “Fair enough.”

Before either of you could say anything else, the locker room door swung open, and a voice called out—“Interns! Williams, Woodward!” Followed by your own last name, then surprising Jesse’s. You felt a flicker of relief to have the same resident. Even if you were with “General Marlene,” you weren’t sure if that name was supposed to intimidate you, but as you shuffled behind the small group, you started to feel it just a bit.

“That’s the … ‘general’?” Jesse jokingly asked you to confirm you guys were heading in the right direction. 

“She sure looks like one,” an auburn-haired woman with emerald eyes to your left remarks.

You came to find that she definitely was. As her voice was stern and loud.

“I have five rules. Memorize them.”Marlene crossed her arms as she scanned the group of fresh-faced interns in front of her. The room had gone dead silent the second she stepped in.

“Rule number one: Don’t suck up. I already don’t like you, and that’s not going to change anytime soon. Trauma protocols, supply lists, pagers—you’ll get all of it. You figure it out, or you get out.”

She took a slow step forward, eyes narrowing.

“Rule number two: You eat when I say, you sleep when I say, and you do not whine about it. If I see one of you yawning while you’re holding a scalpel, I’ll personally kick you out of my OR.”

She pointed at the group huddled together.

“Rule number three: This hospital does not tolerate mistakes. You mess up, people die. You hesitate; people die. You’re slow; people die. And when they do, you don’t get to cry about it. You learn from it, and you move on.”

A few interns shifted uncomfortably, but no one dared speak. You weren’t sure if you should be writing her monologue down or not, seeing how the others stood up a little straighter at her tone. She definitely introduced herself to the fellow interns with a no-nonsense attitude. You had no choice but to respect it in a way. She’d clearly been here awhile, her stomping grounds. You almost felt like a guest on the tiled flooring between your feet.

You and Jesse exchanged looks for a brief moment like you were telepathically telling each other to buckle up. Taking a deep breath, you braced yourself for the long hours ahead of your first shift. You just prayed you wouldn’t be crawling out the automatic doors and still in one piece. 

You’ve got a more complicated, putting it nicely, patient assigned , a teenage girl complaining of constant side stomach pains.

You did your best to gather information on the clipboard, giving you a run over her charts asking about different symptoms, but she seemed to be a little more snooty than anticipated.

Once her parents came pouring into the room, asking you questions you weren’t sure of the answers to, you scrambled to find Marlene leaning over the front desk talking to the nurse. Her black coils tucked into a head and bun. Glancing down at her nametag, ‘Abel,’ ,huh? You weren’t sure if you even needed to know names yet since you were still basically on trial. Two interns still had to leave so the rest could go through, and you weren’t looking forward to being one of them.

Once Marlene caught sight of you sitting, she came over with curiosity in her gaze as to why you weren’t still busying yourself. 

The explanation was quickly cut off as Marlene told you where to go to find the doctor who could help assist you on your case.

“Yeah, Dr. Jackson is off the case; your patient belongs to the new attending. Dr. Anderson. She’s over there,” she shushes your rambling. as she makes her way back down the hallway, giving you a brief point, leaving you to figure it out for yourself. 

You watch her figure disappear and slowly turn back around to the sea of bodies in the room. Scanning over name tags to find the resident she was referring to.

Only to feel your shoulders tense when you see something that makes you blink a few times. That same sleepy figure that was in your bed seven hours ago. It’s now wearing the same name tag you were directed to look for.

You blink.

You stare again.

But no matter how many times you do it, she’s is still standing there. Not tangled in your sheets, not half-asleep in your bed, but here, in a white coat with a name tag that makes your stomach drop.

Dr. Anderson.

Her eyes flick to yours, and for a brief moment, there’s a flash of recognition. Then—amusement. Like she can’t quite believe it either. She barely gets a word out before you grab her wrist, dragging her into the nearest supply closet.

“Okay,” you sighed, shutting the door behind you. “We cannot do this.”

Abby leans against the counter, arms crossed, that damn smirk still plastered on her face. “Do…what?”

“You. Me. This.” You gesture between you two. “We have to pretend it didn’t happen.”

She lifts an eyebrow. “What, that you slept with me last night or…you ran out of your own house on me this morning?—“

You shush her of embarrassment, reading over her tag name like it would magically change. Nope, still Dr. Abigail Anderson. This just couldn’t get any better.

“You—you didn’t tell me you worked here,” you accuse, arms crossing over your chest.

Abby shrugs, still looking far too amused by all of this. “You didn’t ask.”

You open your mouth but then quickly shut it, heat rising to your cheeks. Unfortunately, she has a point. You guys didn’t talk about it at all.

“Well,” you huff, straightening your shoulders, “we weren’t exactly doing much talking—regardless. Katie, room 107, her parents need you. So can you just” You sighed deeply, collecting yourself and pointing to the door you’d pulled her through.

Abby rolls her eyes, pushing past you and slipping out the door like this is all some inside joke.

And just like that, she’s gone. You took a long needed breath. This was the last thing you needed. You left home for a fresh start, not whatever the hell this was going to be. Pushing out the swinging door a stormy cloud swirling with emotion, hung above you.

Later that night…

You and Jesse find yourselves slumped against a random door in the locker room, scrubs stained, bodies aching, brains mushed to nothing. You weren’t sure how you kept bumping into each other but you didn’t mind the company. Your head tilts back against the cool wall as you exhale.

 “So this is my life now? Tired, sore, and running around in constant …panic?” You asked out loud, to the universe honestly.

Jesse, equally exhausted, pats your shoulder with mock sympathy. “Yep, welcome to Utah.”

The two of you sit there in exhausted silence as the hospital hums around you.

What a’ warm welcome’, sigh.

[grieftv]

Welcome to Grief TV!

GTV is a video podcast about the many manifestations of grief—in us, in our communities, in our nation.

Episode 1 features Dr. Jack Jordan, a clinician scholar in Pawtucket, Rhode Island. Jack worked in private practice for most of his life before retiring in 2018. He began his career as a family and couples therapist who worked with a number of life problems, but his main focus eventually became grief counseling. In the last three decades before his retirement, his work centered on helping those bereaved by suicide (called suicide loss survivors).

Jack wrote and published many professional articles and book chapters, including professional books on bereavement after suicide (Grief After Suicide: Understanding the Consequences and Caring for the Survivors, 2011); on how parents cope with the traumatic death of a child (Devastating Losses: How Parents Cope with the Death of a Child to Suicide or Drugs, 2012); and on an attachment-informed approach to grief therapy (Attachment-Informed Grief Therapy: The Clinician's Guide to Foundations and Applications, 2016).

Despite being retired, Jack continues to train mental health professionals and other human service professionals, as he's done for more than 30 years. His workshops focus on grief therapy, traumatic loss, and suicide prevention and postvention.

You can learn more about Jack and his work at johnjordanphd.com.

SHOW NOTES:

Jack and I referred to a handful of organization and other websites over the course of the show. Links below:

· Live Through This

· Suicide 'n' Stuff

· American Association of Suicidology

· Rhys Meatyard 

· Alliance of Hope

We also discussed specific academic papers:

Cerel, J., Brown, M. M., Maple, M., Singleton, M., Van De Venne, J., Moore, M., & Flaherty, C. (2019). How many people are exposed to suicide? Not six. Suicide and Life-Threatening Behavior, 49(2), 529-534. doi: 10.1111/sltb.12450

Cerel, J., McIntosh, J. L., Neimeyer, R. A., Maple, M., & Marshall, D. (2014). The continuum of "survivorship": Definitional issues in the aftermath of suicide. Suicide and Life-Threatening Behavior, 44(6), 591-600. doi: 10.1111/sltb.12093

Suicide rising across the U.S. (2018, June 7). Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. Retrieved February 11, 2021, from https://cdc.gov/vitalsigns/suicide/index.html.

If you like the show, please hit the subscribe button and share with a friend! You can follow the show on Facebook at https://facebook.com/grief-tv.

GTV is a sibling project to Live Through This, Suicide 'n' Stuff, the Suicide Chat listserv, & I Hurt Myself Today: A Self-Injury Resource.

[rhyrhy]

Vital signs ـــــــــﮩ٨ـ

Greys anatomy AU! Doctor- Abby Anderson

⚕️ summary: At St. Mary’s Hospital, the rules are simple. Saving lives, avoiding attachment, and never going overboard. However, staying within those boundaries is becoming increasingly difficult under the constant gaze of the head of cardio.

→ Cw: different povs, light workplace mistreatment, Wlw content, longer read! (Will add as I see fit)

→ Notes: Ahh I’m so excited to work on this one, I’m also basing this off the first two seasons of grey’s since they were my personal favorite! Am I writing this for myself…yes.

→ Gen context: This story follows a mixture of two of my favorite TV shows, Grey’s Anatomy and video games, The Last of Us. In this crossover, Abby and yourself are tangled together, similar to Derek Shepherd and Meredith Grey (but make it lesbian hehe). Jesse, Ellie, and Dina come along for the ride and own drama as they join the reader on this adventure of being interns at St. Mary’s Hospital in Salt Lake City.

Chapters :

→ Prelude: Welcome to Utah

→ Two: Sink or swim

→ Three: under the knife

→ Four: giving in

→ Five: flatlined

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙

| main character’s moodboads here |

[rhyrhy]

Vital signs ـــــــــﮩ٨ـ

Greys anatomy AU! Doctor- Abby Anderson

Series mlist | moodboards | fourth Chapter (you are here)

Four: Giving in 🩺

⚕️ summary: At St. Mary’s Hospital, the rules are simple. Saving lives, avoiding attachment, and never going overboard. However, it’s becoming increasingly difficult to stay within those boundaries because of the eyes that the head of cardio constantly directs at you.

The apartment is dimly lit when you and Dina finally step inside, exhaustion hanging off you both like a second skin. You kick off your shoes, groaning as you stretch out your arms.

Dina flops onto the couch, rubbing her face. “I swear, I can still hear monitors beeping.”

You smirk, dropping your bag by the door. “Yeah, that’s called trauma.”

She peeks at you through her long fingers, then grins. “So, Jesse was on fire today. Another attempt at charming me.”

You roll your eyes, making your way to the fridge for a water bottle. “That man is nothing if not persistent.” You sigh deeply.

“Do you think I should let him down easy? Or let him suffer?”

You chuckle, twisting off the cap. “Let him sweat a little. Keeps him humble. Grounded”

She laughs before stretching out, getting comfortable. You take a moment to glance around—boxes almost fully unpacked, pictures starting to go up. This place is yours now. It feels real.

Dina eyes you as you move toward your room. “Hey, are you okay?”

You nod. “Yeah. Just need a shower.”

You weren’t okay. Your mind was pulling you in more directions than you had limbs. On one hand, you wanted to stay away from Abby. Keep it professional, respect the resident-intern dynamic. But how could you possibly do that when Dr. Anderson is, well, herself? Beautiful, put together, and had a gaze that weekend that made your knees weak. She was keeping her distance, but you always felt her eyes. Redoing your hair one morning when you got put on rounds assisting her. Chewing on your bottom lip when her arm would flex under her navy scrub top. 

Yeah, you were far from okay. These restless thoughts were taking over.

The bathroom is filled with steam as the hot water cascades down your back. You tilt your head up, eyes closed, letting it ease the tension from your shoulders.

But it doesn’t help. Not really.

Because despite the exhaustion, despite how badly you should be crashing into bed right now, your mind keeps replaying the past few days. The elevator. The teasing. The way Abby looked at you. The way she always looked at you. Like you were still the woman in the bar, the woman whose face she’d pulled into a kiss, stumbling into her bedroom.  But you were her, no matter how much you tried to separate the two. She, that woman, was you. You weren’t sure what kind of stunt the universe was pulling, but it was undeniably you at the end of the day. And with the open invite of hiking still lingering over your head, it was clear Dr. Anderson wanted it to stay that way.

You exhale sharply, pressing your hands to the cool tile. This is stupid. It’s reckless. Unprofessional. 

You didn’t even dare to touch your phone on your newly built nightstand. Afraid of what you’ll do if you pick it up. You repeated those words like a mantra, a prayer for help, some kind of guidance in this situation.

But despite your reluctance when your eyelid shot open at the blaring sound of your alarm filling your ears. Instead of turning it off, your arm shot from underneath your blanket. 

This is stupid, reckless, and unprofessional. You left a mess at home. Not here. Not Utah.

But it doesn’t stop you from reaching for your phone. You wanted to give it; send that text. You hesitate for a second before typing.

“You win.” is all you can manage to send. US the cold screen against your chest. Waiting for some kind of regret to pour in, but a few seconds later, your phone buzzes.

“Told you. Be ready by 8 :)” Is all she typed back. 

It was hard to be regretful when you remembered the woman you just agreed to spend time with, the way she looked at you, the way she made you feel. Ugh. She won. Time to get up.

A Hike Isn’t Romantic, Right? You tell yourself it’s just a hike. A simple, non-romantic, platonic hike. Completely appropriate. You repeat the thought as you pull on your hoodie, but it doesn’t settle the nervous energy in your chest. It’s not a date. You’re just going. That’s it. Except you don’t normally wake up early for people. And you don’t normally double-check the mirror before leaving for a simple, non-romantic hike. You groan, shaking your head at yourself as you sit down to tie your boots.

Dina watches from the kitchen, chewing on a piece of toast as you rush to get ready.

“You’re up early.” She says scanning over your outfit.

You shrug, focused on lacing up your boots. “Yeah, just… plans.”

“Plans that involve hiking boots?” Dina quirks an eyebrow, eyes drifting to the hiking boots before looking back at you with a head tilt.

Your stomach twists slightly, but you keep your face neutral. “It’s just a hike. You know Utah..mountains.” You trailed off.

“Uh-huh.” She takes another bite of toast, clearly unconvinced.

Before she can pry further, headlights flash through the window. Your heart kicks up a notch. You grab your bag, slinging it over your shoulder.

“Gotta go. See you later.”

You rush out before she can say another word. Dina watches you practically sprint to the car, and when she spots the driver, her grin widens. Oh, she’s definitely teasing you about this later.

As you walk up to the car, the morning air crisp against your skin, you catch sight of Abby through the windshield. She’s out of scrubs, dressed in a fitted long-sleeve and hiking pants, and somehow that makes her even more intimidating.

She looks… good. Too good.

The sight of her sends an uninvited rush of memories through your mind. flashes of that drunken night, the way her hands had felt on your waist, the way her lips had pressed against yours, hot and insistent. The way she’d looked at you in the dim light of your apartment, like you were something she wanted to keep. Nope, You force the memories back, burying them beneath logic and professionalism. Abby is a higher-up. Your superior. Someone you should keep a careful distance from. And yet…

Your eyes trailing over the way the fabric of her shirt stretches across her broad shoulders, the way her blonde hair falls a little messier than usual. She looks effortless. Relaxed. Almost unfairly attractive outside the walls of the hospital. You swallow hard and slide into the passenger seat, keeping your face neutral.

Abby smirks, one hand draped lazily over the steering wheel. “Morning, city girl.”

You roll your eyes. “Morning, Dr. Anderson.”

She hums in mock disapproval. “We’re not at the hospital. Abby is fine.”Before you can respond, the sound of panting from the backseat catches your attention. You turn, coming face-to-face with a German Shepherd staring at you with big, curious eyes.

Your heart melts instantly. “Oh my God. Who is this?”

Abby chuckles. “Alice. Meant to mention she was tagging along.”

Alice wags her tail, ears perking up.“I can’t believe you’ve been keeping her a secret,” you say, already reaching back to scratch behind her ears.

Abby smirks. “Figured I’d ease you into the whole ‘hiking’ thing before throwing in my dog.”

You shake your head but can’t help smiling. “Riiight. Easing me in.”

The trail is quiet except for the crunch of dirt beneath your boots. The crisp mountain air fills your lungs, making the burn in your legs almost worth it. You pause for a moment, letting your eyes drink in the beauty of Utah. Above you, the sky is a flawless expanse of blue, punctuated only by delicate wisps of cloud that drift lazily, as if in no hurry at all. The mountains, standing tall in the distance, are bathed in the soft glow of early morning light, their rugged silhouettes softened by the clarity of the air.

Every detail around you seems amplified, airbrushed, the vibrant green of the sparse pines, the subtle shimmer of dew on the rocky ground, even the way the light dances off a nearby stream. In this vast openness, you feel both small and inexplicably alive, as if each breath is a fresh start., you allow yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, this rugged beauty is exactly what you needed to feel whole again.

Abby, of course, looks completely unfazed. At least, until she doesn’t. Her boot catches on a root, and before she can stumble forward, you react instinctively, reaching out to grab her arm.

“You okay?” You asked, holding onto her arm.

“Yeah..yeah I’m fine” She steadies, but instead of pulling away, her fingers tighten around your forearm, anchoring herself against you. Your breath catches as she looks up, blue eyes flickering with something unreadable.

And suddenly, you’re too close. Close enough to feel the warmth of her breath against your skin. Close enough to notice the way her pupils dilate, the way her lips part slightly, like she’s about to say something. Your pulse stutters. Memories from that night at the bar crash over you in waves. the way Abby listened to you with a quiet intensity, how her eyes trailed over every detail of your face like she was committing you to memory, how, for a few hours, you weren’t just another intern trying to stay afloat. You were someone she wanted.

She’s still holding onto you. You don’t know who moves first. maybe it’s her, maybe it’s you, but before you can think better of it, your lips meet.

The second Abby pulls you in, your body reacts on instinct, your hands gripping the fabric of her hoodie, grounding yourself in the moment. You don’t know why you kiss her back. maybe because it feels inevitable, maybe because for the first time in weeks, your mind quiets. The tension that’s been lingering between your shoulders and ignites like a spark hitting dry kindling, flaring to life in the press of her mouth against yours.

You force yourself to pull away, heart hammering against your ribs. reality snaps back into place.

“We—We can’t.” You shake your head. closing your eyes for a second. Screaming at yourself internally.

Abby’s tongue swipes over her bottom lip, like she’s memorizing the taste of you. “Right.”

But she doesn’t move away.And you. you don’t trust yourself to stay close, not when every nerve in your body is screaming at you to close the distance again.

“Right,” you whisper, stepping back, creating space, even when every part of you aches at the loss.

The moment lingers, thick and unspoken, before Abby exhales a quiet laugh, shaking her head. “At least I didn’t fall on my face.”

You huff a breathless laugh, trying to pretend like your hands aren’t still tingling. “Glad I could save your dignity.” And as you turn back toward the trail, you tell yourself it was a mistake. Even if your body refuses to believe it.

You finally reach a small clearing, the view stretching out for miles. The landscape unfolds before you like a painting—rolling hills fading into distant mountain peaks, their edges softened by the hazy light of dusk. The sky is streaked with soft blues and oranges, the sun just beginning to dip lower, casting long shadows across the valley below. A gentle breeze rustles the sparse pines, carrying with it the crisp scent of earth and pine needles. The distant chirp of crickets hums in the background, blending with the occasional rustle of leaves as Alice pads forward, sniffing curiously at the ground before flopping down between you and Abby with a contented sigh.

You exhale, feeling the tension in your shoulders ease as you take it all in. There’s something grounding about being up here, away from the noise of the city, away from sterile hospital walls and the constant pressure to be sharp, efficient, untouchable. Here, surrounded by nothing but sky and earth, you can just be.

Beside you, Abby shifts, dropping her bag onto the ground before lowering herself onto a flat rock. The golden light catches in her hair, making strands of blonde glow almost amber. You steal a glance at her. the relaxed slope of her shoulders, the way she absentmindedly scratches behind Alice’s ears. It’s rare to see her like this, completely unguarded.

For a moment, neither of you speak. And it isn’t an awkward silence, not the kind that demands filling. It’s easy. Comfortable. The kind that lingers between two people who don’t need to force anything.

Eventually, you sink down beside her, resting your arms on your knees as you gaze out at the horizon. “Hiking, huh…who would’ve thought” you murmur, voice barely above a whisper.

Abby hums in agreement, her eyes fixed on the distant peaks. “Mm, Being up here makes it easier to breathe.”

You nod, understanding exactly what she means. In the stillness of the mountains, the weight of the world feels lighter. The expectations, the mistakes, they don’t feel quite so suffocating out here.

Alice sighs deeply, stretching her legs out, completely at ease. You chuckle softly. “She looks like she owns this place.”

Abby laughed , running her fingers through Alice’s fur. “She thinks she does.”

Silence settles between you again, but this time, there’s an unspoken conversation hanging in the air. Something just beneath the surface, waiting. And as the sun sinks lower, painting the sky in deeper hues of amber and violet, you realize you don’t want to leave just yet. Not when everything in this moment feels so right.

You glance over. “So, what’s her story?”

Abby runs a hand through Alice’s brown fur. “Found her outside the hospital one night. Scared, skinny. Figured she needed someone, so… I took her home.”

You smile. “Softie.”

Abby scoffs. “Don’t spread that around.” Silence settles comfortably between you. The kind that doesn’t feel heavy or awkward…just easy. She, was easy.

After a moment, you ask, “Why Salt Lake?”

Abby’s fingers still against Alice’s fur for half a second—so brief you might’ve missed it if you weren’t paying attention.

She shrugs. “Needed a change.”

Something in her voice tells you there’s more to the story. But she doesn’t offer, and you don’t push. It’s best to try to maintain distance. The sun is lower by the time you both start heading back.

Abby’s voice is quieter when she finally speaks again. “You know why I went home with you that night?”

You glance at her, caught off guard. “Because I was charming?”

She huffs a laugh, shaking her head. “Because I needed someone to look at me the way you did.”

Your stomach flips. She looks at you then, expression open, unguarded. “I don’t usually do that. But you—” She exhales. “You make me feel like maybe I don’t have to have it all figured out.”

You swallow past the lump in your throat. Before you can figure out what to say, she smirks, bumping your shoulder lightly. “And I needed a good distraction.”

You roll your eyes, shoving her lightly. “You’re impossible.”

She grins. “You’ll survive.”

There’s a beat of silence before Abby speaks again, more serious this time. “You’re gonna do great in a few days.”

You glance at her. “Yeah?”

She nods. “You diagnosed a case that half the residents missed. You earned this. Just don’t pass out in the OR, okay?”

You smirk. “No promises.”

Abby watches you for a second longer, something unreadable in her expression. Then she nods ahead. “Come on. Alice is getting bored.”

You follow her lead, but your mind is still replaying every word. Soon, you’d have your first real surgery. You earned it, And maybe just maybe, you’d finally stopped fighting yourself on the inevitable.

But that was a tall order.

Taglist! @sevyscoven @flyleaffreak @antobooh

[rhyrhy]

Vital signs ـــــــــﮩ٨ـ

Greys anatomy AU! Doctor- Abby Anderson

Series mlist | moodboards | third Chapter (you are here)

Three: Under the Knife 🩺

summary: At St. Mary's Hospital, the rules are simple. Saving lives, avoiding attachment, and never going overboard. However, staying within those boundaries is becoming increasingly difficult under the constant gaze of the head of cardio.

You and Jesse have exchanged a few awkward glances, and while his flirty, over-the-top charm can be amusing, you’ve learned to tune it out. Ellie, on the other hand, is easier to get along with. She doesn’t beat around the bush and always knows how to make you laugh, even when the tension in the hallways is thick. Dina began to feel like a long-lost sibling, keeping you grounded with her steady presence. She’s always there with a quick quip or an eye roll when things get too stressful.

And then there’s Riley. The nurse at the front desk who always seems to have the perfect piece of advice at just the right time. She’s one of those people who can find humor in anything, even on the worst of days.

You’re clocking in for another long shift when you spot Abby a few feet away. She’s standing in the hallway, phone pressed to her ear, her back stiff, and her jaw clenched. There’s something about the way she’s holding herself like she’s on the verge of breaking, but not yet. The conversation seems heated, though you can’t make out the words.

Your mind starts to wander, a million questions running through your head. Who could she be talking to like that? You’ve seen the way she commands respect, the way the staff listens to her when she speaks. Yet there’s an air of vulnerability in her hushed tone. You shake the thoughts away as you finish clocking in, pushing the curiosity aside for now.

The weekend rolls around, and after a long week of hospital shifts, Dina finally manages to carve out some time to help you move more of your things into your new apartment. Both of you are exhausted, half-asleep, but determined to get it done.

You sit together in your living room, now free of most of the moving boxes, trying to build a bedside table out of an old box. It’s a struggle, but you manage to get it assembled after a few clumsy attempts.

“I think it’s perfect,” Dina says with a grin as she leans back against the couch, her voice muffled by a yawn.

“You know,” you say, popping up from behind the trunk of the car parked in your driveway, “I already work over 100 hours with you a week. Feels like we’re basically girlfriends now.”

Dina rolls her eyes dramatically. “If that’s your idea of a relationship, I think you’re in for a rude awakening.”

You both laugh, a comfortable silence falling between you as you continue putting things in place, marking the first steps of turning your space into something that feels like home.

Even though Utah was definitely out of your comfort zone, you were starting to not mind it too much.

Back home, everything felt like it was always moving, always too fast. The noise, the people, the traffic—it never stopped. You’d learned to live with it, but it never felt like home. Every corner you turned, every face you passed, there was a sense of urgency, a sense of not quite fitting in. Everyone, and I mean everyone, had an opinion about your future, about who you were supposed to be. You’d been running from those opinions for years, from your family’s judgment, from the constant push to be more, do more, even when you weren’t sure you had the energy left to care.

But here, now? That was miles away.

The hospital hallways hum with anticipation as the day of the decision draws nearer. Everyone has survived their brutal first shifts, but now comes the next battle: the chance to scrub in on the first surgery.

The rumors are circulating, and the tension in the air is palpable. Everyone’s vying for that one coveted spot—who will be chosen?

Jesse leans casually against the nurses’ station, arms crossed, his signature smirk playing on his lips. “Let’s be real,” he says, his voice just loud enough for everyone to hear. “I’m getting the first surgery. I’ve got it in the bag.”

Dina raises an eyebrow, leaning against the counter beside him. Coffee cup in hand. “Based on what, exactly? Your ability to sweet-talk nurses?”

Ellie snickers from the side, chiming in with, “More like his ability to trip over his own feet.”

Jesse dramatically places a hand over his chest. “Ouch. No faith in me at all?” You chuckle, but you can’t help the gnawing feeling in your stomach. The truth is, you want that surgery. Badly. And judging by the tense glances being exchanged between the other interns, so does everyone else.

Before the teasing can continue, Marlene rounds the corner, her gaze sharp. “Are you all waiting for an engraved invitation to do your damn jobs?”

Ah shit, Instantly, the group scatters, returning to the chaos. Breathers weren’t a luxury you got or earned yet. Marlene is something else—a mix of stern authority and unspoken understanding. You’ve caught her eyes a few times, and in those fleeting moments, you’ve seen something softer. She's tough, but sometimes you need tough, right? 

Later, between rounds, you got turned around for the hundredth time. At one point a patient even called you out on being lost, pushing her better on the hospital with zero sense of direction. So many rooms, so many elevators, so, so many stairs…

You pressed your face into your palms for a moment to try and reboot your brain. You still had a solid seven hours left before you were going anywhere that didn’t have the smell of Lysol and hand sanitizer lingering. The ding of the elevator was always too high-pitched for your ears liking, but you’ll get over it, you thought. And as if your day couldn’t get any better, you were greeted with a familiar face, staring right back at you with her glasses pushed to the bridge of her nose, glaring down at some paper like it was her arch nemesis.

Those colored eyes and always perfectly pulled back Hair. would never go unrecognized by you. Abby, in the elevator you needed. again. those dark blue scrubs to complement said eyes.

You find yourself stuck in yet another elevator ride with her. Yeah, it’s becoming a pattern. You and the resident you oh-so-accidentally slept with. Pretending like the image of her naked body isn’t burnt in your memory.

Once you stepped into the elevator and silently sat beside her, she turned her gaze to you with the tilt of her head. “You think you’re getting the first surgery?”

You scoff, trying to play it cool. “I mean, I did manage to diagnose Katie, so I should be in the running.”

She tilts her head, an amused smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Mhm, Bold confidence”

You glance away, trying not to show how much her attention affects you. The silence in the elevator fell hard, charged. You can feel her watching you, the weight of her gaze almost tangible.

The doors open, and she shifts slightly closer, voice lowering to a whisper. “You never answered about the hike.”

You huff a quiet laugh, shaking your head. “You’re really pushing this team-building thing, huh?” You glanced over to her, feeling your stomach flip when her shoulder nudged yours.

Abby shrugged, eyes twinkling with mischief. “I am, You’ll come around.”

Leaving you to watch her figure retreat. You would’ve been sad about the abrupt exit if you didn’t enjoy watching her walk away. Catching her small look over her shoulder at you. She knew what she was doing, damn it. 

You hated that it was working. 

The next few days blur by in a haze of patient rounds and assignments. Dina grew more attached to a young girl with a failing heart, checking in on her at all hours. Jesse watches from the sidelines, ever the joker, but this time, his humor seems more forced. “You know you can’t save them all, right?” he says, his voice tinged with something else—concern, maybe.

Dina glares at him, her worry written all over her face. “That’s not helpful.”

Jesse shrugs, leaning against the wall. “I just don’t want to see you burn out before we even get to scrub in.”

The weight of his words lingers in the air, but Dina doesn’t respond. She just continues watching over her patient, lost in the world of medicine that consumes her every breath. You’d check in on her occasionally, bringing her coffee and racking her brain when needed. 

Meanwhile, Ellie’s handling a post-op patient when she miscalculates a dosage, nearly causing a serious complication. The attending Nora catches it just in time, but Ellie is left feeling defeated. Later that day, you find her sitting on the stairs, her face buried in her hands.

“Hey,” you said, closing the door behind you. Glancing over her defeated figure. Those Green eyes full of exhaustion. 

“Hey. You coming to put me out of my misery?” She replied, muffled from her hands.

“No. And Ellie, you’re not the first intern to screw up,” you say, sitting down beside her. “And you won’t be the last.”

Ellie groans, shaking her head. “Yeah, but I’d rather not be that intern.”

You nudge her shoulder, offering a comforting smile. “Get used to it. We’re all just trying to keep our heads above water.” You weren’t sure if those were the most reassuring words you could’ve offered, but it was what she needed in the moment, realism. Her head resting on your shoulder Told you she appreciated it.

At the end of the day, the tension finally breaks. Isaac gathers the interns, and the moment of truth arrives. The chief, Isaac. A gray beard and a deep voice step forward, voice steady and commanding.

“The intern assisting in their first surgery will be…” Time seems to slow, the anticipation palpable. Every eye is on him, every ear straining to hear the verdict.

Your heart skips a beat. Did he just say—you? Your breath catches as you glance at your fellow coworkers, who’s watching you with unreadable eyes.

Jesse mutters under his breath, disbelief lacing his tone. “No. Fucking. Way.”

Dina slaps you on the back, her grin wide. “Hell yeah!”

Ellie lets out a low whistle, her approval evident. Dina turns back to you, her eyes gleaming with something close to pride. “Looks like you better get some sleep.”

But you can’t even process her words.

Next week. Next week! You’ll be scrubbed in, standing on the precipice of your first real surgery.

And there’s no going back. This is it. Your first time under the knife. One chance to prove yourself. The reason you’re here. One week to prepare, to get your head in the game. Your fingers tighten around the blue fabric of your scrub top. Tomorrow, you either sink or swim.

No pressure.

None at all

Taglist cuties! @sevyscoven @flyleaffreak @antobooh

[rhyrhy]

Vital signs ـــــــــﮩ٨ـ

Greys anatomy AU! Doctor- Abby Anderson

Mlist | moodboards I second chap (you are here) |

Two: Sink or swim 🩺

⚕️ summary: At St. Mary’s Hospital, the rules are simple. Saving lives, avoiding attachment, and never going overboard. However, staying within those boundaries is becoming increasingly difficult under the constant gaze of the head of cardio.

Your feet feel like lead in your shoes. Two hours ago, you found out that your planned one-night stand was actually the head of cardio at your hospital. And now, just when you thought your bad luck had peaked, fate decided to twist the knife. Because despite your best efforts to avoid Dr. Anderson, she was the resident on this case with you. So, you did everything you could by yourself. You pushed through rounds, meticulously checked vitals, double-checked scans. You weren’t about to look incompetent, not on your first shift. That wasn’t an option. You needed be that intern to get that first surgery.

But now… you’ve hit a wall.

Great.

Nine hours in, the morning has blurred into a mess of movement, orders, and adrenaline. Somewhere in between rushing from one patient to another, you and the other interns finally exchange names, though it barely registers. Everyone’s too exhausted to commit anything to memory beyond who’s in charge and where they need to be.

The sleeve of your white coat brushes against the empty desk as you sit hunched over Katie’s chart. The distant chatter of coworkers in the cafeteria barely reaches you, drowned out by the sound of your own thoughts. Your eyes burn from staring at the same scans, the skin of your fingertips dry from flipping through printed ink a million times. Nothing. How could there be nothing when she was clearly in pain? You can’t go back into her room without answers, you need to prove yourself.

At some point, Dina hurries over, eyes wide with barely masked panic.

“I need help. My patient’s O2 stats are dropping, and I have no idea why.” Jesse lingers just behind her, standing a little too close, like he’s waiting for an excuse to jump in. He’s always like that with Dina—hovering, teasing, toeing the line for coworkers.

You let out a long sigh, rubbing your temple. “Ugh, you too? Mine is driving me up a wall. It’s like a phantom pain—nothing’s showing up on these scans.” You glance back at the pages of Katie’s chart. Blood work, normal. Imaging, clear. Symptoms inconsistent. But she looks awful—tired, weak, barely able to sit up without wincing. Something isn’t adding up.

Without realizing it, the four of you have gravitated toward each other like lost kids at recess, huddling together like anxious penguins. Intern penguins.

Or, as General Marlene’s voice echoes in your head, “bottom of the surgical food chain.”

Marlene. Just thinking about her makes your shoulders tense. She’s the reason you got into St. Mary’s. The reason you had to pack up and leave home, leave behind the mess you were barely holding together. You told yourself it was for the best—fresh start, new city, clean slate. No more family drama breathing down your neck, no ex showing up at your doorstep with apologies too late to mean anything. But somehow, standing here, exhausted, drowning in charts and expectations, you’re already wondering if this was a mistake.

Then, as if summoned by your thoughts, a voice cuts through the group like a scalpel.

“Why are y’all just standing there?”

Marlene. She’s leaning over the railing above, arms crossed, looking unimpressed. The overhead lights cast sharp angles on her face, making her look even more intimidating than she did during rounds. Her voice halts conversation. You barely have time to react before she levels you all with an unimpressed glare.

“Rule five: when I say move, you move.” She rolls her eyes and waves everyone off.

A brief pause lingers. Then, after a few awkward head nods and quiet “thank yous,” for whatever help we’d gathered, like a bunch of scolded children, you scatter.

You let out a breath and head back to Katie’s floor. Maybe you didn’t ask enough questions. Maybe you were too focused on her stubbornness. How could your first case—a stomach ache, of all things—stump you this much? The world around you fades into white and black lettering, as you push your hair behind your ear, weaving through patients and doctors, eyes glued to the papers in your hands, praying there’s something you missed.

You press the cold gray button with the arrow facing up, waiting for the elevator. The doors slide open, and you step inside, still reading. A faint hello pulls you from your trance. You don’t feel conversational so You nod absentmindedly in acknowledgment before tilting your head back, letting the bright fluorescent light fill your vision. Your brain is fried. A five-second break won’t kill you.

Then, a familiar chime.

You glance over your shoulder, and there she is, hair pulled back, glasses hooked onto the collar of her dark blue scrubs. You’re still not used to seeing her in this environment. It feels like night and day, remembering the slightly clingy woman who had begged you to stay in bed with her just hours ago. Abby’s hand curling around your wrist under warm sheets, her hair messy, falling halfway over her face. The sleepy rasp of her voice: “Stay a little longer?”

You blink hard, forcing yourself back to reality. Trying to keep those thoughts to a minimum. She leans against the wall, arms crossed, looking way too at ease for someone who just spent six hours cutting people open. Nope. Not going there.

You straighten awkwardly. “Dr. Anderson.”

Her eyebrow raises at the formality, but she doesn’t comment. Instead, she hums. You snap your head forward, keeping your eyes locked on the silver doors, willing the elevator to move faster.

A beat of silence. Then—

“So…” Abby starts casually, like you didn’t wake up in the same bed seven hours ago. “You a hiker?”

“…What?” Your brows pull together, with a small squint of confusion. Was this her idea of small talk, you screamed internally for the universe to let up.

She shrugs, tilting her head slightly. “Utah. Mountains. People out here love hiking. Thought maybe you were one of those ‘find yourself on a trail’ types.”

You blink. “…That’s the most random thing you could’ve said just now.”

She hums, pretending to think. “Well, I considered leading with, ‘Hey, funny running into you here after last night,’ but I figured you’d prefer the small talk.”

Your jaw clenches. “Yes. Definitely prefer the small talk.”

She nods, barely holding back a grin. “Right. So, hiking.” Her gaze flickers downward for a fraction of a second, like she’s mulling over her own words before speaking.

She shrugs,“Just saying. Sounds like a good stress reliever. Can’t help but think they might be onto something.”

There’s a slight twitch at the corner of your lips. “Glad to see you’re adjusting well.”

She grins. “Mhm…Could be a team-building exercise.”

Your brow furrows. “What—are you inviting me—” You cut yourself off, looking away quickly. This was unprofessional. She was your superior. This woman is unbelievable, to say the least.

Moments of silence pass over you two, You don’t wait. The second the doors open, you’re out before she can respond. Just before they close behind you, Abby calls out—

“You let me know if you change your mind about the great outdoors!”

You roll your eyes, but your lips twitch before you can stop them. But as the doors slide shut, you can feel her eyes lingering on you, the weight of her presence pressing against your back.

A dim-lit memory flickers behind your eyelids, The Bar—Abby’s fingers loosely curled around a whiskey glass, the way she leaned in when she talked to you, her eyes unwavering. Her cheek rested against her palm as she listened, intently, to your slightly tipsy ramblings.

“I just… I needed to leave.” Your voice had been quieter then, more vulnerable. “It felt suffocating. Like I was trapped in this version of myself I didn’t even like.” Abby had only nodded, slow, understanding. Watching you like you were the only thing that mattered. No judgment, or chiming in…just listening.

You shake the thought away. Not the time.

The hours tick by, the weight of exhaustion pressing against your shoulders. Your patient, Katie, had been a complete mystery symptoms not quite fitting any obvious diagnosis, test results coming back inconclusive. But now, staring at the latest scan, the pieces finally click into place.

Your breath catches. “Oh my God.”

You scramble for a pen, flipping through her chart, double-checking the notes, re-running the possibilities in your head. It has to be this. A rare complication, but one that makes perfect sense. Your heart pounds as you yank the file off the desk. You have to tell Abby. Now. You spin on your heel, practically jogging down the hall, dodging nurses and patients as your sneakers squeak against the freshly waxed floors. Almost there—

BAM.

You collide with something solid. Hard enough to knock the air from your lungs and send your patient file flying. “Shit—” A pair of hands grab your arms, steadying you before you can completely wipe out.

“Damn, dude. Where’s the fire?” You blink up at Ellie, who’s eyeing you with equal parts amusement and mild concern.

“I—” you shake your head, catching your breath. “I think I figured out what’s wrong with Katie.”

Ellie whistles. “Look at you, solving medical mysteries on your first shift. Next thing you know, you’ll be stealing surgeries from the rest of us.”

You huff, bending down to grab your scattered papers. “Yeah, well, first I have to survive telling Anderson.”

Ellie helps you scoop up the last of the notes, handing them over with a teasing grin. “Well, good luck with that. Try not to walk straight into her, too.” You roll your eyes but shoot her a quick smile before hurrying off. Abby was about to get an earful—whether she liked it or not.

The low hum of hospital machines fills the room as you stand just outside Katie’s door, patient file gripped tightly in your hands. Inside, her parents sit in stiff-backed chairs, her mother wringing a tissue between her fingers, her father rubbing at the bridge of his nose. Their exhaustion is palpable—the kind that comes from hours of waiting, of fear twisting in their stomachs. You take a steadying breath before stepping in. Abby is right beside you, her presence grounding even if she’s the reason you’re feeling twice as nervous.

Katie’s mother stands the moment she sees you. “Do you know what’s wrong with her?” Her voice wavers on the last word.

You exchange a quick glance with Abby, who gives you a small nod, silently urging you to speak.

“We do.” You clear your throat, stepping forward. “Katie has a rare complication called Pericarditis It’s uncommon, which is why it wasn’t immediately obvious, but now that we’ve identified it, we can move forward with treatment.”

Her father straightens. “A rare complication? But she was fine last week. She just had a fever—how does it turn into this?”

You nod, flipping open the file. “That’s a good question. What likely happened is that she had a viral infection—something that probably felt like a cold or mild flu. But instead of just running its course, the infection caused inflammation in the lining around her heart, making it difficult for it to pump properly. That’s why she’s been feeling weak and having chest pain.”

Katie’s mother clutches her husband’s arm. “But you can fix it, right?”

You hesitate, and Abby smoothly steps in. “We have a plan. We’re going to monitor her closely, start anti-inflammatory medication to reduce the swelling, and if necessary, we’ll drain any excess fluid. If she responds well, she could be feeling better in a matter of days.”

Katie’s father lets out a slow breath, nodding. “And she’ll recover?”

You soften. “That’s what we’re aiming for.”

You rub your temples as you finish scribbling notes into a chart, exhaustion already settling into your bones. It’s only your first shift, and yet you’ve somehow run across the entire hospital three times, nearly killed yourself tripping over an IV pole, and barely avoided making an idiot of yourself in front of Dr. Anderson—twice. Intern year was going to be hell.

You glance at the clock. Lunch. Thank God. As you step into the hallway, Jesse falls into step beside you, looking way too smug for someone who’s also running on fumes.

“You look like you just got hit by a truck,” he comments, elbowing you lightly. Scanning over your slumped shoulders.

You glance at him, Straightening up slightly. “Feel like it too.”

Ellie and Dina catch up, Ellie stretching her arms over her head. “At least you don’t have a patient who tried to bite you,” she grumbles.

Jesse snickers. “Pediatrics?”

“Worse. Old fart with dementia. Thought I was his ex-wife.” Ellie sighed, huffing a laugh at her own description.

Dina grimaces, with a shoulder pat that went on a bit longer than normal, or at least you thought. “Yikes Williams.”

As the four of you make your way toward the cafeteria, you let out a deeper sigh. “Honestly, I have bigger problems.”

Jesse raises an eyebrow, curiously spiking. “Bigger than almost getting bitten?”

“I need a roommate,” you admit. “My new place is way too big for just me, and rent is stupid expensive. I thought I’d be fine on my own, but at this rate, I might have to start selling my organs on the black market.”

Ellie smirks. “Dibs on your liver.”

Dina glances over. “Wait, you’re looking for a roommate?”

You nod. Dina nudges you with her shoulder. “I’m literally looking for a new place. My neighbor is wayy too loud at two in the morning. Two. In the morning.”

“Oh my God. Roomies?” Your eyebrows shoot up.

“Roomies.” You agreed, it might not be such a bad idea.

Jesse groans. “Okay, this is ridiculous. If anyone should be Dina’s roommate, it’s me. I’d make a great one.”

Ellie side-eyes him. “Jesse, your car is a biohazard. I can only imagine what your apartment looks like.”

Dina snorts. “Yeah, sorry, man. I think I’ll take my chances with her instead.” She gestures at you.

You sink into your chair, letting out a deep sigh as the exhaustion from the day settles into your bones. Your scrubs feel heavier than when you first put them on, your feet ache like you’ve run a marathon, and your brain is dangerously close to short-circuiting.

So this really is your life now—running on fumes, chasing diagnoses, dodging Marlene’s wrath, and trying not to make a fool of yourself in front of Dr. Anderson.

Your eyes flick across the cafeteria, landing on Abby at a distant table. She’s deep in conversation with another attending, posture relaxed, fingers absently tracing the rim of her coffee cup. She looks just as sharp and confident as she did in the OR. Like she belongs here. And then there’s you—an intern who spent the morning nearly killing herself with nerves, playing medical detective for the first time, and figuring out how to navigate the fact that she accidentally slept with head of cardio.

Great first day.

Taglist: @sevyscoven

[rhyrhy]

Vital signs ـــــــــﮩ٨ـ

Main’s moodboards!

For general context: This story follows a mixture of two of my favorite TV shows, Grey’s Anatomy and video games, The Last of Us. In this crossover, Abby and yourself are tangled together, similar to Derek Shepherd and Meredith Grey. Jesse, Ellie, and Dina come along for the ride and own drama as they join the reader on this adventure of being interns at St. Mary’s Hospital in Salt Lake City.

Masterlist here | moodboards (you are here) | prelude

Abby → Jesse

Ellie → Dina