Sparks In Scrubs | Arizona Robbins X Reader

Under Pressure

**Y/N's Perspective**

Dating Arizona for a few weeks had been like living in a dream. Every moment with her felt perfect, and our relationship was growing stronger with each passing day. Monday mornings at Grey Sloan Memorial were usually bustling, but today was relatively quiet. I had just finished my rounds with the residents and interns, enjoying the brief respite.

Suddenly, my pager beeped urgently. Code Blue in Pediatrics.

Without a second thought, I dashed towards the pediatric wing, my heart racing. As I entered room 206, I was met with a scene of chaos. Monitors were blaring, and Arizona was working feverishly to stabilize a young boy on the bed.

"What's going on, Dr. Robbins?" I asked, my voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through me.

Arizona looked up, her eyes filled with determination and concern. "It's a severe case of osteogenesis imperfecta in a ten-year-old boy. His name is Leo. He tried to get out of bed and fell, resulting in multiple fractures."

"Okay," I replied, quickly assessing the situation. "I'm going to need an X-ray and a chest CT."

Leo began to regain consciousness, his eyes fluttering open as I stepped closer to his bed. "Leo, can you hear me?" I asked gently. "You just fell and have some fractures. We need to take you to X-ray to get you checked out, okay? You're going to be fine. I'm going to call your dad and tell him what just happened while you get the X-ray."

Leo nodded weakly, his face pale and drawn with pain. I gave him a reassuring smile before turning to the nurse. "Prepare him for transport. I'll make the call."

As the nurse began to move Leo, I stepped out of the room, pulling out my phone. I could feel Arizona's eyes on me, filled with a mix of worry and trust. This was the moment we had to work together, not just as partners in life, but as professionals dedicated to saving lives.

I took a deep breath and dialed Leo's father, ready to explain the situation and assure him that his son was in the best hands possible.

---------------------------------------------------------

I walked into the radiology department, finding Arizona already there, her eyes fixed on the screen as she waited for Leo's CT scans to load. The air was thick with tension, and I could feel the weight of the situation pressing down on us both.

I took a seat beside her, feeling the need to offer some reassurance. "I just called Leo's dad," I said softly. "He's on his way now. Have the scans come up yet?"

Arizona shook her head, frustration clear in her voice. "Not yet. But the X-ray films came back. Take a look."

We turned our attention to the X-ray films displayed on the lightbox. Multiple fractures stood out starkly: a broken femur, a fractured rib, and a cracked humerus. "He's got fractures in his femur, rib, and humerus," Arizona pointed out, tracing each break with her finger. "The poor kid is really banged up."

As she finished speaking, the CT scans finally loaded. "Scans are up," I announced, focusing on the screen.

We both leaned in, scrutinizing the images. The fractures were clear, but there was something more concerning. One of the fractured ribs had caused internal bleeding, likely compromising a major blood vessel.

"Damn it," Arizona muttered. "He's going to need surgery."

I nodded, my mind racing but determined. "I'm going to page Wilson to get him prepped for surgery," I said, pulling out my pager and sending the message.

As I did, I felt a surge of gratitude for Arizona. Working together in moments like this, where every second counted and every decision mattered, only reinforced how lucky I was to have her not just as a colleague but as a partner.