The hospital felt like it was holding its breath.
Seattle Grace had always been a high-stakes battlefield, but with the merger in full swing, it was now a surgical free-for-all. Turf wars over OR time. Whispered rumors about cut lists. Eyes tracking every move, waiting for someone to stumble.
Nia Seraphine Adisa knew the pressure intimately. She'd felt it the moment she stepped through the doors on her first day. But now, after assisting Derek Shepherd in a subarachnoid hemorrhage case, the whispers had changed.
They weren't asking who she was anymore.
They were wondering how dangerous she was.
---
The day started early—before sunrise. Nia stood alone in the interns' locker room, tying her scrub top. Her fingers moved with practiced precision, but her mind was already elsewhere. She'd dreamt about surgery again—long corridors, flickering fluorescent lights, arteries blooming open like flowers beneath a scalpel.
She was already visualizing the day's procedures. Her photographic memory didn't turn off. She saw things before they happened.
Cristina Yang walked in, slamming her locker with surgical fury. Nia didn't flinch.
"You think you're special," Cristina said, loud enough to echo.
Nia met her gaze. "I think I'm prepared."
"You don't get Shepherd on your second day without kissing someone's ass or cutting someone out."
"I didn't cut anyone."
Cristina stepped forward. "I've been here since day one. I've bled in those ORs. You come in with your calm voice and your mystical brain like you belong? You don't. Not yet."
Nia didn't rise to it. "Then I'll earn it."
Cristina stared her down for a heartbeat more, then turned and left with a huff of surgical righteousness.
---
Nia's Assignment: Neuro Consult Rotation
Today, she was with Derek Shepherd again. Not because she asked—because Bailey assigned her.
"Dr. Shepherd requested you," Bailey said with a clipped tone that hinted at disapproval. "Don't get a big head. He likes puzzles, and you're a Rubik's Cube with legs."
"Understood," Nia said. She didn't smile. She didn't need to.
When she walked into the neuro wing, she found Shepherd at a light board reviewing scans.
"Dr. Adisa," he greeted. "What do you see?"
She stepped forward, analyzing the MRI. "Tumor in the left temporal lobe. Irregular margins, likely grade III astrocytoma. Encroaching on the language center."
He smiled. "How'd you get that so fast?"
"I saw a similar scan last year in med school. The image never left."
"I want you to scrub in this afternoon. We're going to try a resection with mapping to preserve speech."
Cristina, who had been waiting nearby, barely concealed her frustration. "She hasn't even been here a week."
"She's not replacing you, Cristina," Derek said coolly. "You're still on the surgical board for the AVM this morning."
Nia didn't gloat. She just nodded and followed him down the hall.
---
Elsewhere: Micah's First Trauma
Micah Duvall had his hands deep in a chest cavity by 8:30 a.m.
He was paired with Dr. Owen Hunt and the patient—a construction worker crushed under scaffolding—was bleeding out fast. Ribs broken. Lung collapsed.
"Clamp now!" Owen barked.
Micah did, sealing the artery with steadiness and speed. Owen's expression barely changed, but the nod he gave afterward spoke volumes.
Later, in the scrub room, Owen turned to him.
"You're calm under pressure."
"Grew up watching the worst happen and learning how to survive it," Micah said simply.
"You've got trauma instincts. Don't waste them."
Micah nodded. He didn't smile until he passed Nia in the hallway, both of them heading to the OR board.
"How's neurosurgery land?" he asked.
"Full of egos and gray matter."
They exchanged glances—comforting in the chaos of rivalry and rules.
---
Neuro OR – Tumor Resection
Nia scrubbed in beside Derek and Lexie Grey, who monitored vitals and assisted with suction.
The patient was awake—part of the mapping protocol. Every incision, every word, was carefully measured.
Derek worked slowly, surgically poetic, and Nia mirrored every instruction like she'd done it a hundred times.
"Touch the margins."
She guided the retractor. "Here. Microscopic bleeding at twelve o'clock."
"You saw that before suction?"
"Reflected off the bone window."
Derek's respect was palpable. "You're not just memorizing scans. You're inside the surgery."
When they closed up, Derek turned to her. "You should be in neuro. If that's what you want."
Nia hesitated. "I want exposure to everything. Neuro. Cardio. Trauma."
He nodded. "Good answer."
---
Post-Op Lounge – Yang's Wrath
Cristina was waiting when Nia stepped out.
"I don't care how good you are. This is a hierarchy, and you're skipping rungs."
"I didn't ask for special treatment."
"You got it," Cristina snapped. "And don't pretend you don't see the rest of us watching."
Nia took a breath. "I'm not here to threaten anyone. I just want to be a surgeon."
Cristina's jaw clenched. "Then you better be ready to fight for it."
---
Evening – OR Board Chaos
Chief Webber called an emergency meeting of all interns and residents.
"Starting next week, surgical cuts will begin," he announced. "Some of you will be reassigned. Some of you will be gone."
The room erupted.
"Gone?!" "That's not fair!" "What about our rotations?!"
Webber raised his voice. "You have one job: be excellent. No politics. No favorites. Just work."
Bailey stood beside him. "You're being watched. Every chart you prep, every stitch you throw, every second in the pit. Make it count."
---
Call Room – Nia & Micah
It was nearly midnight when Nia finally dropped onto the on-call room bed. Her scrub top was bloodstained, her brain exhausted but still spinning.
A knock. Then the door opened.
Micah stepped in, tossed his bag onto the chair. "You still up?"
She nodded. "Barely."
He sat beside her. "Everyone's talking about you."
"I know."
"They say you've got an edge."
She looked at him, raw honesty in her voice. "It's not an edge. It's just... how I am. I remember things. I see things. I can't turn it off."
"That sounds like a gift."
"Sometimes it's a curse."
He didn't respond right away. Just leaned back, looked up at the ceiling.
"I watched a guy die today. First time I couldn't save someone. He bled out on the table. Nothing I did mattered."
Nia reached out, rested her hand over his.
"We'll lose people," she said. "But it doesn't mean we stop fighting."
Their hands stayed there—connected, simple, steady. Nothing romantic. Just real.
And in a hospital full of ambition and blood, that meant everything.
---
Meredith's House – Closing Scene
Meredith, Cristina, and Alex sat in the living room, drinking.
"New interns are already stealing surgeries," Cristina muttered.
"She's good," Meredith said of Nia. "She didn't ask for it. Shepherd saw it."
Cristina sighed. "I hate her."
"You hated me once too," Meredith pointed out.
Cristina smirked. "Still do. But less."
They drank, and the tension settled—temporarily.
---
End of Chapter 2