CHAPTER ONE
hard day's night.
season one, episode one.

          CASSANDRA HARPER REFUSED TO LIVE IN FEAR. At any moment, the world could stop turning, the ground could cave in beneath her, and everything could fade to black. Funnily enough, these were things which soothed her anxiety, rather than spurred it on.

It was a born instinct for her to scream all of her I love you's from the rooftops. Even if they were only reserved for family, never once did she regret doing so; if anything, she only ever regretted not.

The only thing she did fear was being too late, not saying it while the people she loved still had the time. While she still had the time.

Life can be as short as it is unexpected, and Cassie intended to take that cliché saying to her grave.

No, she didn't live in fear.

A perpetual state of anxiety over not being perfect, however, had always been a bit of an issue.

The first day of her surgical residency had yet to begin, and Cassie could already feel the nerves eating away at her insides. Despite having a bit of an advantage—Derek would be there, which meant there would be at least one attending she didn't need to impress—the possibility of it going poorly was enough to nearly send her off the deep end.

Sparing a glance into the slightly cracked, dust-covered mirror above the hotel room sink, Cassie let out of a puff of air through her cheeks.

The urge to drop everything and run back to New York had never been stronger.

New York, where her mother's grave resided. New York, where the sick man who was her father in everything but name lived. New York, where her friends still remained; her friends, who she didn't exactly feel keen on speaking to at the moment.

(Addison left a voicemail wishing her good luck, and Mark had emailed her some video of an animated cat wearing a party hat. Cassie responded to neither.)

Finally looking away from the mirror, she quickly grabbed her car keys.

The hotel was only a ten minute drive from her destination, giving her plenty of time to internally freak out in the parking lot before she had to go in. With hopefullness brewing in her chest, the large building finally came into view as she followed the sign that read Seattle Grace Hospital, North Entrance.

A person sped by her in the parking lot, their face obscured by their motorcycle helmet, and Cassie almost walked in with them so she could make a friend.

Instead, she panicked for a few more minutes, forcing herself to do a breathing exercise before making her way inside.

Finding her class of interns was easy—she simply looked for the biggest group of the most confused looking people. With a small smile towards the slightly angry-looking guy who stood on her left, she arrived just in time for the Chief of Surgery— Dr. Webber—to begin his speech.

The older man looked between the interns, his face set in a rather indifferent, knowing frown.

"Each of you comes here today hopeful," Webber spoke after a few moments of silence, pausing for what Cassie assumed was dramatic effect. "Wanting in on the game."

Her heart fluttered at the words, and she repressed a grin. If this was a game, she wanted more than anything to win. Or, to get a participation metal, at least.

"A month ago, you were in med school being taught by doctors. Today, you are the doctors."

A door lightly clicked shut behind them, and Cassie's attention was briefly taken as a dirty blonde slyly made her way over to the group, clearly trying to go undetected. But there was something about her, some gravitational force, that made the woman impossible to ignore.

In her opinion, the girl looked like she just got railed, but Cassie was never one to judge.

"Rough night?" she whispered, smiling when the girl responded.

"You have no idea."

Cassie almost made some joke along the lines of I'll have what she's having, but was interrupted when she and the other interns were led into an empty operating room.

Webber continued speaking, but all of a sudden, she found it difficult to pay attention.

Every last detail of the room was perfect. The organized surgical tools, the clear glass between the OR and the scrub room, the floors which were so clean that they squeaked beneath her beaten-up Converse.

Cassie's lips twitched upwards when the overhead lights turned on, illuminating the group under a cold, sterile glow.

She was a surgeon.

There was no question that the next few years would be hard, but for the first time, her doubts of whether or not it would be worth it were reassured.

It would be.

(It would all be worth it, right?)

"The seven years you spend here as a surgical resident will be the best and worst of your life. You will be pushed to the breaking point. Look around you. Say hello to your competition."

Everyone looked around at each other with predatory gazes, eyeing up the competition. Cassie, not quite getting the memo, sent a tight smile to the few people she made eye contact with.

A few feet away, a tall blonde—who admittedly was an unreal, model-level of gorgeous—sent her a smile back.

Cassie recognized a few people from the intern mixer; a sweet guy named George who'd clumsily spilled his drink all over her pants, and an attractive woman she vaguely recalled trying to suck up to the attendings.

Despite her efforts, she couldn't contain her grin.

"Eight of you will switch to an easier specialty. Five of you will crack under the pressure. Two of you will be asked to leave. This is your starting line. This is your arena. How well you play? That's up to you."

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The locker rooms smelled slightly of body odor and dried blood, but truthfully, Cassie couldn't care less.

After placing a pair of light blue scrubs on the bench, she carelessly took of her shirt, her bra on full display while she remained entirely unabashed. Cassie already knew she was hot, and the strangers in the room would've noticed eventually, so she didn't make an attempt to cover up as she changed.

Besides, they were at work, and they were doctors. Anyone who saw changing into scrubs as something sexual was probably just a sick f—

"Nice," a male voice said from her right, whistling under his breath.

(—fuck.)

"Ugh," she scoffed, deciding to move a few lockers down towards the blonde from earlier and a beautiful asian woman she hadn't met. "Men are pigs."

"Tell me about it."

"Only six women out of twenty," the blonde observed, shaking her head in disbelief while she sized up the competition.

"Yeah, I heard one of them is a model," the curly haired girl laughed ironically. "Seriously? Like that's going to help with the respect thing."

"She probably payed off her loans, though," Cassie shrugged, before adding, "Hm, maybe I should model."

After tying the laces her non-slip shoes, Cassie threw her hair behind her ears, reaching for the hair-tie on her wrist—only to meet nothing but skin. With a groan, she searched her bag, only to come up empty.

A tap on her shoulder caught her attention, and the blonde silently handed her a spare elastic as she introduced herself. "You're Cassie and Cristina, right? I'm Meredith. Which resident are you assigned to?"

"I got Bailey," Cristina said.

"Same," Cassie finished tying her hair up, finishing with a slightly overexcited, "I heard she has a wicked nickname."

"The Nazi, you mean?" Meredith grimaced. "Yeah, me too."

A locker slammed shut, and Cassie jumped.

"You got the Nazi?" a voice belonging to a short brunette perked up. "So did I. At least we'll be tortured together, right? I'm George O'Malley," he said, mainly focusing on the blonde. "We, uh, we met at the mixer. You had a black dress with a slit up the side, strappy sandals—" the girls exchanged a look, "—and now you think I'm gay."

"Uh huh," Cristina nodded.

"Kind of," Cassie shrugged. "I mean, I'm bi, so it's totally okay if you are."

"No! No, um, I'm not gay, it's, um, it's just that, you know, you were, I mean, you were very... unforgettable."

George didn't look away from Meredith once, and Cassie had to resist the urge to clap him on the shoulder when the conversation went mute. He seemed to be just as easily flustered as he was when they first met; in a way, it was rather endearing.

"O'Malley, Harper, Yang, Grey, Stevens."

As George continued to ramble about his very straight sexuality, the group walked toward the man that called their names. He pointed out where their resident was standing; much to their surprise, the Nazi was a short black woman.

"That's the Nazi?" Cristina asked.

"I thought the Nazi would be a guy," George tilted his head.

"I thought the Nazi would be... a Nazi," Meredith said.

"That's an awful nickname," Cassie muttered.

The beautiful woman from the OR walked up on Cassie's right, practically vibrating with energy. Moving past them with a long stride to her step, she added, "Maybe it's professional jealousy. Maybe she's brilliant, and they call her Nazi because they're jealous! Maybe she's nice."

"Let me guess, you're the model?" Cristina and Cassie asked in unison, earning them dirty looks from the bubbly blonde.

Cassie hadn't meant it as an insult, not at all. But still, between the bleach blonde hair, the unrelenting optimism, and looking like she just walked out of a Victoria's Secret magazine, it was pretty obvious.

The model walked up to their resident with a sickly sweet smile on her face. Cassie admired her bravery.

"Hi! I'm Isobel Stevens, but everyone calls me Izzie."

Bailey looked her up and down with a judgmental expression, not shaking her outstretched hand.

Cassie loved her already.

"I have five rules. Memorize them," she began sternly. "Rule number one, don't bother sucking up, I already hate you, that's not gonna change." 

Well, at least she has boundaries.

"Trauma protocol, phone lists, pagers. Nurses will page you, you answer every page at a run. A run, that's rule number two." They quickly grabbed their pagers off of the desk before following her down the hall. "Your first shift starts now and lasts 48 hours. You're interns, grunts, nobodies, bottom of the surgical food chain. You run labs, write orders, work every night till you drop and don't complain."

Rushing down the hall after Bailey was the first in what Cassie assumed would be an onslaught of humbling experiences that morning.

Every doctor they passed by stared at them as if they were either lambs for the slaughter or dirt on the bottom of their shoe; absentmindedly, she wondered when she'd finally get to see Derek.

George tripped on his shoelace, and Cassie pulled him up before Bailey could stare him down, too. 

"On call rooms," the resident opened an unlocked door, revealing a small room about the size of Cassie's place at the hotel. "Attendings hog them. Sleep when you can, where you can. Which brings me to rule number three, if I'm sleeping, don't wake me, unless your patient is actually dying. Rule number four, the dying patient better not be dead when I get there. Not only would you have killed someone, you would have also woken me for no good reason. Are we clear?"

Cassie would've answered aloud, if she weren't vaguely frightened by the short woman in front of her, who she now couldn't wait to learn from. Instead, she gave a sharp nod.

If one thing was for certain, it was that Bailey knew exactly what she was doing.

Meredith raised her hand. Bailey called on her, albeit with a facade of irritation on her features. "You said five rules. That was only four."

Bailey's pager began to beep, almost as if it were planned. "Rule number five. When I move, you move!"

The resident then began to sprint down the hall, yelling at people to get out of her way, and a herd of confused interns followed quickly in tow.

It seemed as if she'd run a marathon by the time Cassie and the others arrived at the helipad. With shortness of breath, they allowed the helicopter to touch down before moving to help; even then, it seemed no one knew what they were in for.

"Katie Bryce," a paramedic informed the group as they rushed in. "Fifteen-year-old female, new onset seizures, intermittent for the past week, ID lost en route, started grand mal seizing as we descended."

A young girl shook violently on the gurney, the oxygen mask slipping off her face as she did.

Cassie had read about seizures—and a classmate had one back in med school, so she'd also seen a seizure—but being responsible for stopping it was a whole different story.

The only thing which eased her anxiety was that she wasn't completely lost and terrifed alone.

"All right, get her on her side," Bailey instructed as they moved into the nearest trauma room, already filled with enough nurses and doctors that Cassie found herself bumping into people everywhere she moved.

Katie was turned on her side, her whole body still shaking with a fervor that would surely be terrifying to anyone. The interns tried and failed to keep her still without hurting her, so a few nurses had to step in to help.

"Izzie, give her ten milligrams Diazepam," the resident continued to order, speaking to all of them at once in rapid succession. "No, no, the white lead is on the right, righty whitey, smoke over fire. A large bore I.V., don't let the blood hemolise. Let's go!" 

George fumbled with the I.V., handing it to Meredith, who put it in with Cristina's—and again, the nurse's—help. Izzie searched for Diazepam, but seemed to be overwhelmed between the yelling and the seizing and being tossed around the small area.

Cassie stood on the opposite side of the gurney, but spotted the glass vial on a tray table between them. Silently, she slid it closer to Izzie, who finally noticed it as the table knocked against her elbow.

The medicine was injected, and Katie's seizing slowly came to an end, despite the young girl remaining unconscious.

Izzie glanced back at Cassie, mouthing a silent thank you once things had calmed down.

"So I heard we got a wet fish on dry land?" A doctor said as he came into the room. He was wearing dark blue scrubs, signaling that he's an attending.

"Absolutely Dr. Burke," Bailey nodded. 

Cassie recalled him being the Head of Cardio, and instinctively straightened her posture. He seemed to survey the situation, not doing anything but staring for a few seconds, before he finally spoke.

"Dr. Bailey, let's shotgun her."

"That means every test in the book, CT, CBC, chem seven, and a tox screen." Bailey informed the interns. "Cristina, you're on labs. George, patient workups. Meredith, get Katie for a CT. She's your responsibility now. Cassie, you're with me." 

Perking up, she couldn't help but to feel a bit special. Cassie was with her. Granted, what that actually entailed was a mystery, but she was ready for anything.

"Wait, what about me?" Izzie asked.

"Honey, you get to do rectal exams," Bailey smirked.

With a disgruntled sigh, Izzie was the first to leave the room, followed by the others. Cassie watched them go, a tight smile on her lips while she waited for directions. Bailey turned away, a pen in her hand rapidly moving against a piece of paper; presumably, updating Katie's chart.

Over thirty seconds went by, and eventually, Cassie gained the courage to clear her throat.

Bailey all but jumped out of her skin.

"Can I help you?"

"Um," Cassie stuttered, her eyes blowing wide as she began to question if she'd understood the resident correctly, "You said I'm with you, so—here I am—um, with you."

Bailey blinked at her, and Cassie's smile widened.

The older woman pulled out a list from the pocket of her lab coat, holding it out for the younger girl to accept.

"The nurses are short-handed today, so I need you to make sure every patient on this list gets their meds."

Cassie couldn't stop the feeling of disappointment from making it's way into her gut, but she made sure that her smile never wavered. It was only the first day, and to think that she'd be able to actually do surgery was unrealistic; that being said, a part of her assumed she'd at least be doing something interesting.

But the nurses needed help, and so with shiny teeth and a very forced burst of energy, she happily snatched the list from the other woman's hand.

"You got it. Is there anything specific I should know about the patients?"

Bailey raised her chin. "No complaints?"

Cassie frowned a bit, shaking her head as she clarified, "I thought that was against the rules."

"It is," her resident confirmed, and looked up at her for a beat before she continued with a stern, "Mr. Davis in 3302 needs his pills split in half, and Mrs. Cortez only takes 'em with juice, no water."

With a nod, Cassie committed the numbers to memory, and took off after the others.

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"This shift is a marathon, not a sprint. Eat."

George nudged Izzie, who had her elbows on the cafeteria table, her head in her hands, and a disgusted expression on her face. Cassie took a bite of her sandwich, ignoring the crumbs stuck to her lip in favor of sending the blonde a sympathetic look.

"You try eating after performing seventeen rectal exams," Izzie groaned. "The Nazi hates me." 

"The Nazi's a resident. I have attendings hating me," George complained. "I couldn't find a vein on this guy, for like, a year, only to realize Burke was right behind me the whole time."

Cassie smiled cockily, popping a grape into her mouth. "They all love me."

On her left, Cristina scoffed around a mouthful of her salad. "Yeah, 'cause you're doing the job of a nurse."

Cassie smiled, and threw a tomato at her.

With a roll of her eyes, she threw it back, missing Cassie entirely and ending up hitting George in the face. They both laughed at that, getting Izzie to finally raise her head; Cassie used the opportunity to push the other half of her sandwich between her arms.

"Eat," she ordered. Izzie begrudgingly sighed.

George wiped the residue off his face with a groan. "Okay, we don't need to throw—"

"Hey, you guys know Meredith is inbred?" Cristina gossiped, changing the subject since she wasn't listening anyways.

George shrugged. "Like it's uncommon around here to be a doctor's kid? Nepotism is everywhere—"

"No, I mean royally inbred. Her mother is Ellis Grey." 

"Shut up, the Ellis Grey?" Izzie exclaimed.

Cassie's eyebrows shot up to her hairline. "You've got to be fucking with me."

"Who's Ellis Grey?"

All three women turned to look at George, bewilderment shown across each of their features at the fact that a surgeon, of all people, didn't know who Ellis Grey was.

"The Grey method? Hello?"

"She was one of the first big female surgeons," Cassie explained, "She practically invented the abdomi—you know, Meredith looks just like her, I can't believe none of us connected the dots—"

"She's a living legend, she won the Harper Avery. Twice!"

"So I didn't know one thing," George muttered.

"Talk about parental pressure," Izzie huffed, finally taking a bite of Cassie's sandwich now that her mind was occupied with something other than seventeen rectums.

"I would kill to have Ellis Grey as a mother," Cristina leaned back in her chair. "No, I would kill to be Ellis Grey. All I need is one good case, and boom. I could—"

Cassie loudly cleared her throat.

Meredith slammed her food tray onto the table, sliding into her seat just as Cristina was cut off. "Katie Bryce is a pain in the ass. If I hadn't taken the hippocratic oath, I'd Kevorkian her with my bare hands."

The table went silent. Partially due to the fact that they were just talking about the daughter of a legend behind her back, and partially due to the aggressiveness coming from said daughter-of-a-legend.

The brunette coughed again.

"Did you know that Dr. Kevorkian got away over 130 murders, which at the time were just considered illegal physiscian assisted suicides?" Cassie supplied. "They called him the angel of death, and he believed that dying isn't a crime. Of course, it's not, but killing someone definitely is, right?"

The four of them blinked at her.

Cassie smiled again.

"Good afternoon interns," a deep voice cut through the silence. The group turned to see Burke, who wore a smirk which looked so devious it unsettled them all.

A quiet "Good afternoon," was mumbled back by George, who once again failed to impress the attending.

"It's posted, but I thought I'd share the good news personally," the man continued, "As you know, the honor of performing the first surgery is reserved for the intern that shows the most promise. As I'm running the OR today, I get to make that choice, so... George O'Malley! You'll scrub in for an appendectomy this afternoon."

George choked on his food, and Cassie roughly pat him on the back to help move it along.

"Me?"

"Congratulations," Burke winked, "Enjoy it."

He walked off, a smug grin on his lips, and the interns sat in silence once again. If she were honest, Cassie felt bad for the guy; the glares George recieved simply for being picked were nothing compared to what he'd get if he succeeded in removing the patient's appendix.

"Did he say me?"

━━━━━⭒━━━━━

"—has that ever occurred to you?!"

Cassie stopped in her tracks, her fingers stilling on the handrail to the right of the staircase she was ascending.

While she'd only known Meredith for the better part of 10 hours, there was no mistaking her voice for an angry version of it yelling on the landing above her. The real issue was whether or not to eavesdrop.

Unfortunately, by the time she'd decided to listen in, Meredith had left the conversation; or, more likely, stormed out of the conversation. Despite the urge to know who she was talking to, Cassie resented the idea of being involved in drama on her first day.

Besides, everyone knows that the best drama happens after a few months have gone by. Everyone gets comfortable, and then bam.

With sharp exhale, she decided to simply brush past the person—whoever they were—and keep her head down, with her patient's chart tucked in close to her chest—

The second her foot touched the landing, the person took a step back, knocking Cassie onto the ground with a harsh thud.

She understood why Meredith was yelling, now.

"Watch it, asshole."

"Excuse you, Dr. Harper."

(Oh, fucking finally.)

Slowly, Cassie raised her head as a smile overtook her features. "Derek!" she cheered, tossing the chart back onto the ground and throwing her arms over his shoulders. "I was wondering when I'd get to see you!"

The older man chuckled, holding her close in what could only be described as a bear hug; not that he had much choice in the matter, as she refused to let him go.

"Okay, you know we're in public—Cass—"

"Shut up, I missed you."

Really, she did.

Going a few months without seeing him had probably been the closest Cassie's experienced to pure torture. Before she'd gotten on a flight to Seattle, it was up to his mother to entertain her, now that he was across the country; a feat which Carol took seriously, as clingy and obnoxious as Cassie was during that time.

You're family, Cassandra, the eldest Shepherd always reminded her, You and your mother, you're family.

At the thought, she hugged Derek tighter.

Eventually, he managed to wiggle out of her unweilding hold, picking up the patient chart that she'd forgotten she dropped.

"Bailey's got you on a case already?"

"Nope," she told him with far too much excitement than was necessary, tucking the folder under her arm. "Bailey has me working with her all day—well, not working with her, but helping with her patients—and she hasn't yelled at me once!"

"Bailey? Not yelling at interns?" he raised a brow. "Well that's shocking."

"I'm that good," she shrugged cockily.

Of course, he didn't need to know that she hadn't really done anything of surgical substance, because she was still that good.

"I'm sure you are," Derek grinned, visibly resisting the urge to reach and ruffle the top of her hair. "Aren't the, uh, rest of the interns on the case with Meredith? What's her name, ah, Katie Bryce—"

"Oh, so you two are on a first name basis?"

"What?"

"You said Meredith."

With the wheels turning in her head, Cassie watched as he struggled to keep up. He looked at her, and then to the door Meredith presumably left out of, glancing between them in rapid succession; in the meantime, Cassie narrowed her eyes, waving a hand in the air as if prompting Derek to just spit it out.

He sighed heavily, before blurting out, "I can't believe I slept with an intern." Cassie stilled, staring blankly at him for a long moment, until she burst out in laughter. "It's not— what's so funny?"

"Dude, you're her boss. No, your her boss' boss. I mean, you do realize how messy this is going to get, right?"

Derek stuttered over his words, his brows furrowing while Cassie struggled to breathe through her amusement. It was clear that he wanted her to stop, but at the moment, she truly couldn't think of anything funnier than Derek screwing an intern and subsequently screwing his life.

"It's not—"

"No, it is," she interrupted him, knowing what he was going to say before he said it. "It is a big deal. It's probably one of the biggest deals—"

"Well, it probably won't be that bad—"

"Not to mention, you literally just got out of a divorce," she continued, ignoring the way he froze for a moment after she spoke.

"Yeah, uh, right."

It was easy to ignore his immediate dismissal of Addison, as She Who Must Not Be Named was a sore subject over the past few months. Cassie knew it wasn't easy for him to leave a woman he'd been with for the better part of a decade, but that didn't stop her from joking about it all the same.

Besides, he wasn't in the wrong; the bitch cheated.

"You're also in a position of power over her, which even though you won't abuse it, definitely won't look good if word gets out." Cassie laughed once more, shaking her head at him as if she were his superior. "Sleeping with an intern on her first day, and fresh out of a divorce? You're living the dream, Der."

He ran a hand through his hair, glaring at the girl who was far too amused for his own liking. "Cass, I love you, but please shut up."

"No can do, boss," she winked. "I quite enjoy revelling in your misery."

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When Cassie heard about George's failed appendectomy with Dr. Burke, she felt bad for her new maybe-gay friend. Thus, why the interns were now gathered in the tunnels, trying to comfort him.

"Double-o-seven," George grumbled. "They're calling me double-o-seven, aren't they?"

Cassie stretched her arms behind her back, hopping up from her place on an abandoned gurney in favor of getting a snack from the vending machine. On her way over, she spun the wheelchair George sat in, more out of instinct than anything else.

He caught himself on the wall, glaring at her as she giggled at the sight of him looking like an upset puppy. To make it up to him, she bought an extra bag of chips.

"No one is calling you double-o-seven," Meredith and Izzie lied in unison, their tones equally unbelievable.

"Actually, they are," Cassie admitted, tossing the chips into George's lap. "I heard a guy say it earlier. But don't let it get to your head, they're just jealous you actually got to touch a scalpel."

"Double-o-seven," he repeated. "It's already in my head. I'm double-o-seven."

"How many times do we have go through this, George? Five, ten?" Cristina groaned from her place leaning against the wall, "Give me a number, or else I'm going to hit you."

"Someone on the elevator whispered double-o-seven, and everyone laughed," George insisted. "It's stuck. I am stuck with it. I am double-o-seven."

"He wasn't talking about you." Izzie said weakly.

"You sure?"

"Would we lie to you?"

"Yes," Cassie nodded. "Don't worry, George. The double-o-seven thing will die down eventually."

Cristina agreed with a sound of approval. "Listen, it's a mindset. If enough people tell you that you're Bambi, you start to believe it, and then your mom actually gets shot, and you really are Bambi."

Even Meredith, who had been mostly watching the chaos in silence, looked up at that one. George paused—Cassie thought he seemed to be really internalizing whatever that meant—and Izzie just looked on in confusion.

"Huh?"

With a shrug, Cristina ran a hand through her hair. "I... I don't know. I'm sleep deprived. You get it."

"I don't think I do," Izzie mused.

"You know, at one point in med school, I mastered complete control over my sleep-wake cycle," Cassie blurted, opening her bag of chips with a loud pop. "All you gotta do is blend an energy drink, frozen strawberries, and a cup of espresso beans together. Boom, you're up for 18 hours and counting."

Cassie had slowly been accustomed to being stared at as if she had five heads, so the intern's reaction to her statement didn't come as a shock.

Cristina rolled her eyes, but then inclined her head with a quiet question of, "And... to sleep?"

"Nyquil instead of the energy drink, chocolate instead of the espresso beans."

"Oh, I gotta try that—"

"Guys!"

"Oh, stop whining, George," Cristina rolled her eyes for what Cassie assumed was the millionth time that day. "Listen to the smart ones, alright? It's just a state of mind. Let it go, you'll be fine."

"Yeah okay," George scoffed, "Says the girls who finished top of their classes at NYU and Stanford with a freakin' P.h.D."

Cassie's eyes narrowed. "Who told you I went to NYU?"

"Cristina looked you up."

"You looked me up?"

She nodded. "You seem like my main competition, and you're practically a baby. It's really just standard protocol."

Cassie wasn't sure whether to be intimidated, flattered, or terrified. Settling on the second option seemed to be the easiest, so she went with that. Cristina seemed to be the one person in her intern class who truly had the essence of a strong surgeon; cold, calculated, not too empathetic, essentially everything Cassie tried to be.

A pager went off and interrupted her train of thought, though it wasn't her own. Meredith stared down at the small device, and even from across the room, she could feel the blonde's heart pounding.

"Oh man, it's 911 for Katie Bryce."

As sick as it was, for the first time since her shift started, Cassie was jealous.

Meredith rushed off to deal with whatever went wrong, and she just watched, wondering when it would finally be her turn to save a life.

━━━━━⭒━━━━━

All of the meds had been administered for the day, she'd helped Bailey patch up a broken arm in the ER, and there was nothing left for Cassie to do until the sun rose.

So, she took it upon herself to explore the hospital.

There was a moment when she debated finding Derek and bothering him, but the last thing she needed was a nepotism allegation this early on in her internship—no offense to Meredith, of course.

Eventually, she found herself walking in a circle around the hospital, ending up in the trauma wing where she began. Only this time, the sounds of nurses rushing around, monitors going off, and raised voices caught her attention.

"We need some help in here!"

Cassie wasn't the least bit qualified to be a person of help, but when she recognized the room as one belonging to Katie Bryce, she didn't hesitate to drop everything and run inside, not having a clue what she was getting herself into.

"What's going on?"

Cassie saw the scene before her, and immediately regretted entering the room.

"She's having multiple grand mal seizures. How do you want to proceed?" a nurse asked her expectantly—too expectantly.

"I—I'm not—um, page Dr. Shepherd—"

"We did," the nurse continued, and Cassie almost apologized for her lack of skill set when someone was literally dying in front of her. "You're the only doctor here, so how do you want to proceed?"

On the bed, Katie's body shook so harshly that Cassie could feel it in the floors. That, or her own body was vibrating so violently that she was shaking the room alone. There was a girl, a fifteen-year-old girl, dying right in front of her, and she couldn't even—

"You gave her Lorazepam?"

She didn't know where she found the words, but she did, and the nurse replied evenly, "2 milligrams."

"Okay, um—" Cassie searched her mind for the page of the textbook about dealing with seizing patients; she could remember the cover, and the title, but not the page, until five seconds passed by and she blurted out a panicked— "Okay, um, 2 milligrams of Diazepam next, and if that doesn't work, give her 4 milligrams of Prazepam, um, I think."

"The Prazepam's not working—"

"What's going on?"

Cassie didn't know Meredith that well, but God, she could've kissed her on the lips right then.

"Katie was seizing, and I was walking by, and no one else was here, so I gave her Diazepam and Prazepam and, um, hopefully that will—"

"Prazepams's not working."

"—fuck, okay, yeah, that's all I've got."

Meredith looked between the nurses and Cassie, somehow even more panicked than the latter, which none of them seemed to think was possible. She didn't say a word, only stuttered out incoherent sentences for a while, until the yelling of the nurses seemed to catch up with her.

"Okay! Okay, uh, Phenobarbital, load her with Phenobarbital... and page Bailey and Shepherd again!"

"Pheno's in."

"Pheno's not working—her heart stopped!"

"She's coding!" the nurse shouted, panicked.

Cassie, who previously attempted to step aside and let Meredith deal with her patient, quickly caught onto the fact that neither of them were equipped to handle a situation where young girl was flatlining right before their eyes.

Cassie immediately jumped forward, helping the nurses turn Katie over and start chest compressions. Meredith just stood and stared, and as much as she wanted to blame her for that, she couldn't.

"Mer, grab the paddles, charge to 200!"

As if snapping out of a daydream, Meredith quickly moved to hold the defibrillators, rubbing them together as she approached Katie's unconscious body.

"Charged. Clear!"

"Still v-fib," another nurse said.

"Charge to 300," Meredith ordered the nurse, quickly shocking Katie again, but still, nothing changed, and all Cassie could do was stand by a dead person's side and watch. Somehow, it was worse than being in charge. "Okay, charge to 360!"

The nurse didn't move, causing the interns to send her a harsh glare. Meredith couldn't seem to find her words anymore, and so Cassie spoke up with an accusatory, "She said, charge again."

"At sixty seconds, you're supposed to—"

"Charge again." The nurse just stood there. "I said charge again, or her death is on you!" Cassie snapped, not leaving any room for backtalk.

It was the first time she was rude to a nurse, and she silently prayed that it would forever be her last. They were all just doing their jobs, but God, the fear running through her veins at the prospect of this girl dying right under her nose was enough to make anyone crazy.

"Clear!"

After a brief moment of anxiety felt all across the room, the heart monitor slowly began to beep, and Katie's chest once again began to rise and fall. Cassie almost passed out from the heavy exhale that left her mouth at the sight.

"I see a sinus rhythm," the nurse—the one who wanted them to stop—announced. "Blood pressure's coming up."

"Page Bailey and Shepherd again, please," Cassie asked her, this time with a much kinder tone and an apologetic expression.

Just as she did, Derek came rushing in.

Cassie had seen him angry enough times to know that the vein on his forehead and the redness on his cheeks wasn't there for no reason. Bracing herself, she stepped back towards the wall, hoping he directed his attention to literally anyone else.

"What the hell happened?"

"Okay, um, well, she was seizing, and—"

Derek cut Cassie off before she could even begin.

"A seizure?" he repeated, turning to Meredith. "You were supposed to be monitoring her!"

"I've been monitoring her all day," Meredith defended herself. "When I checked on her earlier she was fine, but—"

"Just go," he snapped. When Meredith left the room, he turned to Cassie, and in a completely different tone questioned, "What happened, Cass?"

"I was just in the hallway when a nurse called for help, and—I mean, I was right there, so I came in, and then—I, um, I gave her Diazepam and Prazepam, and then Meredith came in and gave her Pheno, and—I didn't really know what to do, but she flatlined, so I started compresssions, and then Mer—"

"Good work," he praised her. "Really good work, Cass. Dr. Bailey will definitely hear about this."

"Oh, uh, thanks," she said, still not completely comprehending what had happened. "But Meredith was the one who got her back, I—I didn't really do anything."

Derek nodded, before smiling softly, this time unable to resist the urge to ruffle her hair with a proud expression.

"You saved her life."

Did she?

Cassie was pretty certain that all she did was briefly delay Katie's brief death; although, she did give compressions, and she yelled at that nurse not to give up. It wasn't her victory alone, not at all, but it still felt pretty great.

"Yeah," Cassie breathed out, the tension leaving her body. "Yeah, I know."

━━━━━⭒━━━━━

Derek asked the interns for help.

Cassie wasn't quite sure why he couldn't figure it out what was wrong with Katie Bryce on his own, being a hotshot neurosurgeon and all, but she supposed she could try to help anyway.

Teaming up with Meredith and Cristina only seemed like the natural solution. It went something like this:

Cassie suggested a brain bleed, Cristina said that was a dumb suggestion, Meredith stared at a wall, Cristina suggested something even dumber than Cassie, Meredith blurted out that she'd slept with Derek—a fact Cassie knew, but did not want to think about—and slowly, together, they figured out what was wrong with Katie Bryce.

Turns out, Cassie was actually right; Katie took a fall during rhythmic gymnastics, twisting her ankle and hitting her head in the process, and the bleed was too small to show up on the initial scan.

Cassie winked at Cristina who, again, rolled her eyes.

While her, Cristina, and Meredith told Derek their findings together, he only let Meredith and Cassie scrub in, since there apparently wasn't enough room. Seeing the betrayed look on Cristina's face, Cassie decide to sit it out and let Meredith take the spotlight.

(Coincidentally, Meredith also got the nepotism allegations aimed at her, instead.)

Now, with the successful surgery over along with their 48 hour shift, Cassie was seated outside the hospital with Meredith and George on either side of her.

Derek still had an hour left, and he and Cassie had plans to go out for a drink to commemorate her first day; why the other two were still sticking around, she had no idea.

If she had a home, she would go home.

Instead, they stared at the empty parking lot, still slick with rain from earlier in the day. Cassie could see Derek's car from where they sat, parked perfectly in the lines next to her own. It made her smile. 

"I wish I wanted to be a chef," Meredith said out of the blue. "Or a ski instructor. Or a kindergarten teacher."

"You know, I would've been a really good postal worker. I'm dependable," George added.

Cassie thought for a moment.

"I would be an awesome party princess."

Meredith snorted, rolling her eyes lightheartedly at her new friend and elbowing her in the side.

"You know," George sighed, the weight of his hectic day catching up to him, "My parents tell everyone they meet that their son's a surgeon. As if it's some big accomplishment. A superhero, or something. If they could see me now..."

Meredith spoke next, and Cassie raised her brows at the incoming heart-to-heart that seemed to be on the horizon.

"When I told my mother I wanted to go to medical school, she tried to talk me out of it. She said I didn't have what it takes to be a surgeon. That I'd never make it," she paused, letting out a soft sigh, "So, the way I see it, superhero sounds pretty damn good."

Cassie looked between the two.

"Damn."

They looked back when she didn't add her own parental trauma, which they apparently had a sixth sense for, because neither said a word until she sent them a frown.

"Cass."

"I don't know you well enough for you to call me Cass," she scrunched up her nose at George, despite not hating the way the nickname sounded from him.

"Okay," Meredith raised a brow, "Cassandr—"

"No, okay, fine! Cass is fine."

George and Meredith shared a laugh at her expense, and she eventually joined in, shaking her head at them in mock-disappointment.

"Okay, Cass," George repeated, wearing a grin.

Cassie sighed, looking up at the clear sky when she finally spoke. "My mom was a waitress. When I got into medical school, she threw this crazy huge party, and when I got accepted for a P.h.D program, she practically shut down the whole block. She was really proud of me."

Carefully, Meredith repeated, "Was?"

"Yeah," Cassie nodded hesitantly. "She, uh, she died last year, so she never actually saw me graduate."

George put an arm around her, resting his head on her shoulder. Cassie let him, resting her head on top of his.

"What about your dad?"

"I've never met him."

"We're going to survive this, right?" George asked after a brief pause. Meredith's pager went off, causing her to send them an apologetic glance and head inside.

Cassie thought for a moment, before smiling softly at him. "Yeah," she whispered. "We'll survive this."

author's note ━━━━━━━━━━
and the first rewritten chapter is here! please
keep in mind that comments will help motivate
me to finish the rewrite quicker <3

important changes in the rewrite:
━ cassie is 24 in chapter 1!
━ ^ she got a phd in neuroscience in two
years, because it's cassie. of course she did.
━ denny is her step-dad, bc why not make
everything hurt more the second time around?