Medical Center.
After dropping Rachel off with the OB-GYN, Adam stepped out.
"Head to Eighth Avenue—there's a specialty shop there."
"Got it."
"What color? Whatever, just pick what you like."
"Make sure it's wrapped up tight—no peeking from the outside."
"Yeah, and hurry!"
After hanging up with his assistants—Aida, Lisa, and the ever-reliable "Tool Guy #3"—Adam shook his head and muttered to himself, "Only in a TV drama world, right? Anywhere else, I'd probably get decked for this…
But hey, a sickness needs a cure, and you've gotta treat it right.
Rachel, you're lucky you've got a friend like me!"
While Adam was over here hyping himself up, an organ donor from Wicks Hospital rolled in on the other side.
George was on intake duty.
"Family been notified?"
"Yeah, they're an hour out. Should I page you when they get here?" Nurse Olivia asked, her face blank as ever.
Yup, that Olivia—the one who hooked up with Alex, passed the "charm bug" to George, and made things awkward.
But they're coworkers. Can't avoid each other forever. These moments were bound to happen.
And why was Olivia, the one who messed up, the one giving the cold shoulder? Well, she'd apologized, then hinted at wanting to pick things back up with George—only to get blatantly ignored by him in front of everyone.
"Fair enough. Do they know what's going on right now?" George asked casually, checking over the organ donor.
This one was brain-dead—heart and other organs still good to go. They'd signed a donation agreement beforehand, so here they were, prepped for harvesting. Multiple organs, including the heart, were headed to six patients across three states.
George's job? Routine check, then call the time of death.
"They just know we're still 'trying to save them,'" Olivia replied, clearly uninterested in the patient. She brushed it off and pivoted back to their drama, her tone pointed. "I think it's better to hear the bad news upfront—helps you move on faster, don't you think, George?"
George played dumb, pressing his fist into the patient's chest. He wasn't expecting a reaction.
But holy crap—he got one.
The "brain-dead" patient moved.
"Did you see that?" George shot a look at Olivia.
She didn't react, so he tried again, pressing his fist down. The patient twitched again.
"She's got involuntary brain responses! Her brainstem's still active! She's not fully brain-dead!"
"We'll take it from here. Thanks," said the surgeon in charge of the extraction, strolling in with an assistant.
George explained what he'd seen, even showing them.
"Probably overlooked," the surgeon said dismissively. "But once the cortex is gone, the brainstem follows. Death's inevitable—it's just a matter of time. We'll wait, of course."
"But don't you think—"
George started to suggest maybe they could still save her, but the middle-aged surgeon cut him off.
"She was already dead when she hit the OR."
George stood there, stunned, watching them wheel the not-quite-brain-dead patient away. "But she's still alive right now…" he mumbled.
No!
This isn't right!
Adam had fought for over an hour to save a patient, pulling off a miracle. And here George was, knowing this patient wasn't fully gone, just watching her get rolled into the OR to have all her organs yanked out?
No way!
His mind screamed it, but his feet wouldn't budge.
The guy was a senior doctor. George was just an intern—what could he say? The surgeon would shut him down in two seconds flat. Chasing after them wouldn't change a thing.
Sweat beaded on his chubby forehead as he wrestled with himself.
"Adam!"
Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a familiar figure and yelled.
"What's up?"
Adam heard him and turned.
"Get over here, quick!" George waved frantically.
Adam's eyes widened. He bolted over at full speed.
In a hospital, speed is life. Running's just part of the gig.
Forget Running Man—they should make Running Docs!
George spilled the story fast.
"You sure?" Adam locked eyes with him.
"I'm sure," George nodded.
"He's not lying," Olivia added, dropping her attitude for once.
"Alright. George, go grab Dr. Shepherd. I'll stall them," Adam said, then took off after the team.
A patient who wasn't fully brain-dead—someone they might still save—getting treated as a done deal and wheeled into the OR for organ harvesting?
Just because she'd signed a donor agreement?
Just because she wanted to do some good?
Why not try harder to save her?
Was it really hopeless?
Or did they just not want to—ignoring the obvious signs on purpose?
And why? Oh, maybe because six patients across three states were waiting for her organs!
The more you think about it, the creepier it gets!
"Hold up!"
Adam caught up and blocked them. "Mind if I take a look?"
"Yeah, I do," the surgeon snapped. He clocked Adam as George's backup. If it were another attending, he'd have stepped aside, no questions. But Adam? Just an intern.
"What are you doing?"
The surgeon glared as Adam hooked his foot around the gurney's wheel, stopping it. His assistants kept trying to push.
"I'm checking her," Adam said, leaning down.
Sure enough, just like George said, she still had neural responses. Not fully brain-dead.
"Don't make a fuss. Yeah, she's twitching, but she's in an irreversible coma. Dr. Hans at Wicks already checked her," the surgeon sneered. "Relax—we'll wait for her to flatline in the OR. We know the drill."
"But Dr. Shepherd hasn't checked her yet," Adam said calmly, still blocking the wheel. "We've called him. He's our neurosurgery attending here. Since you're doing the extraction in our hospital, he needs to sign off. Dr. Hans might've missed something. He's a doctor, not God."
"I'll be filing a complaint with your hospital!" the surgeon barked, glaring at Adam.
"Name's Adam Duncan," Adam replied, meeting his stare without flinching.
The standoff froze right there.
Until George rushed back with Dr. Shepherd in tow.
"Sorry to interrupt. Derek Shepherd, neurosurgery attending. Mind if I take a look?"
Shepherd nodded at Adam, glanced at the surgeon, and didn't wait for an answer before starting his exam.
The surgeon: "…"