Medical Center.
VIP Ward.
"What's going on?" Adam asked.
"Mrs. Russebin just had some contractions," Liz replied quickly. "To keep the babies in a bit longer, I've lowered the bed angle—using gravity to delay things."
"Good call," Adam said, checking the vitals. Both mom and babies were stable, so he gave her a nod of approval. "I'll take it from here. Go get some rest."
"I'm still good," Liz said, her energy buzzing.
"Alright then," Adam replied, not pushing it. He stepped out, grabbed a medical textbook, and plopped onto the ward's sofa to read.
"Dr. Duncan, want some tea?" The nurse assigned to the room brought over a steaming cup.
"Thanks, Rita," Adam said with a smile.
"No problem!" Rita grinned and left.
Liz's fiery enthusiasm suddenly fizzled. A wave of exhaustion hit her hard.
"You take the tea and cover the second half of the night," she said, her tone a little sour. "I'm heading to the break room. Call me if anything comes up."
"Sounds good," Adam said, sipping his tea and flipping a page, giving her a casual nod.
Liz trudged off, feeling like the world had it out for her. It always had, ever since she was a kid.
When she started interning at the medical center, she'd tried so hard to befriend everyone—Meredith, George, Cristina, Adam, the other doctors and nurses. She poured her heart into it, but time after time, her warmth got met with cold shoulders.
Meredith, her freaking roommate, only ever confided in Cristina. Never her. George was decent, sure, but he was a guy—there was always that distance. Adam? She still remembered how he'd chewed her out early on. Even now that they were cool, he kept her at arm's length. Alex, that jerk who'd left, was ironically the closest she'd gotten to a real connection. The rest of the staff? They barely gave her the time of day.
She racked her brain and could only figure it was her looks—too pretty, too perfect. Women got jealous and stayed away. Take just now: the nurse hadn't even glanced her way. Classic.
Adam, oblivious to Liz's "lonely at the top" pity party, kept sipping tea and reading. Before he knew it, the clock ticked into the wee hours.
2:30 AM.
"Ahh!" Mrs. Russebin suddenly yelped.
"What's wrong?" Adam dropped his book and rushed over.
"My contractions—they hurt so bad," she groaned. "I think my water broke."
Adam checked the monitor, then lifted the blanket. A patch of blood stared back at him.
"Deep breaths," he said, calming her while calling for the nurse.
"Get Dr. Montgomery on the line."
"Page Dr. Stevens."
"Tell the OR to prep Operating Room 1."
"Grab the backup staff list from the nurses' station and call everyone in."
A flurry of orders spilled out of him.
"Ah! What's happening?" Mrs. Russebin cried.
"Your placenta's torn—we can't wait any longer. We're delivering tonight," Adam explained, keeping his voice steady. "But don't worry, everything's under control. Relax. Deep breaths."
"Tom!" she shouted.
"I know, I've got the nurse calling Mr. Russebin already," Adam said, letting her squeeze his hand like a vice. "He's on his way and will be with you in the OR, I promise."
"The boys!" she gasped through the pain.
"They're all set—Mr. Russebin's got it covered," Adam reassured her, ignoring the death grip on his hand.
If it were Liz or someone else, they'd probably have flinched by now. The less patient ones might've even grabbed a nearby needle and jabbed her to make it stop.
"What's going on?" Liz burst in, her clothes a mess from rushing over.
Adam gave her the quick rundown, then said, "Go help call in all the backup staff."
This wasn't just a C-section. It was three babies, three surgeries. Lead surgeons, assistants, nurses—four surgical teams and two care units. Over twenty people, easy. No way they could wing it without a solid lineup.
Beep beep.
Beep beep.
Pagers blared across the city. Whether people were snoring or… uh, busy, they had to drop everything and race to the hospital.
Dr. Montgomery, the attending, sped over from home too. Adam's call was spot-on, as always. She tossed him a quick "Nice work," confirmed the full team was ready, and started scrubbing in.
Operating Room 1.
A swarm of doctors and nurses huddled around the central table. Mrs. Russebin, under local anesthesia, locked eyes with her husband. Behind the drape, Dr. Montgomery took the lead, with Liz as first assist, starting the C-section.
Adam stood by Dr. Burke, waiting for Baby #2, Emily, to make her entrance. Meredith was next to Dr. Shepherd, her face hidden behind a mask. You couldn't see her expression, but her eyes said plenty.
She'd had zero hope of joining this high-profile surgery. After clashing with Dr. Montgomery over Dr. Shepherd—practically a screaming match—she figured the attending would freeze her out. A case like this could pad her resume big-time, but she didn't trust Montgomery to give her the shot.
Turns out, she'd underestimated the woman's grace. But that just made the whole thing feel… hollow. She almost wished Montgomery had sidelined her. At least then she'd know she was a threat. Being ignored? That stung worse.
One by one, Dr. Montgomery lifted the babies out—gentle, steady—handing them to Liz, who passed them to the assigned teams. Into incubators they went, wheeled out of the OR.
Then came #2, Emily.
Adam stepped up, taking the tiny, messy, pitiful little thing from Liz. He placed her in the incubator, listened with his stethoscope, and gave Dr. Burke a nod. Burke nodded back.
"To OR 2," Adam said. Under Mrs. Russebin's teary gaze, they rolled the incubator out.
Operating Room 2.
"No matter what the books say, I guarantee you've never seen a heart this small," Dr. Burke said to Adam as they scrubbed in.
"Mm," Adam replied with a polite smile and a nod—more courtesy than agreement.
Burke paused, then shook his head with a wry grin. He'd forgotten: most people couldn't connect textbook diagrams to a real, tiny beating heart. But Adam? He could.
After scrubbing up, they suited up with the nurses' help.
"Duncan, you take the lead," Burke said, stepping aside to assist and mentor. No surprise there.
"Thanks, Dr. Burke," Adam said, smoothly taking the main spot.
"Scalpel."
He held out his hand, and the nurse slapped the blade into his palm like clockwork.
"Damn!"
As he cut into Emily's left ventricle, Adam's eyes narrowed. He cursed under his breath and glanced up at Burke.
Burke saw it too. He sighed and shook his head.
No matter how prepared Adam was, it didn't matter now.
No magic can beat fate.