Running in Circles - Lexie Grey x OC

The Ghost in the Hallway

PRESENT - Morning
Seattle Grace Mercy West Hospital - ER Wing

Blood. Screams. Alarms.

The ER was drowning in chaos. EMTs shouted vitals over the constant ringing of monitors as doctors and nurses rushed between trauma bays, gurneys flying through the entrance doors faster than the teams could clear them.

With Owen tied up in another trauma room, April took control of the next incoming ambulance. She burst through the breezeway alongside Meredith, pushing a blood-soaked gurney as Meredith climbed onto the bed, already performing chest compressions over the unconscious patient.

Blood seeped through the gauze wrapped around the man's head, running down the side of his face and onto the sheets.

Across the bay, Arjay and Russ hovered over another trauma patient — an older woman lying pale and gasping on the bed. A blood-soaked gauze pressed against her side did little to slow the bleeding. The monitor beside her screamed faster and faster.

Russ scanned the room desperately, searching for any senior resident or attending who wasn't already buried in another emergency. He clutched the chart against his chest, raising a hand toward every passing doctor.

"Uh, here! We—"

His voice faltered as April disappeared into the trauma room with Meredith. Nurses followed close behind, and the sliding doors slammed shut.

"We need—"

Too late.

They were gone.

Arjay let out a frustrated breath and tightened the ties of his gown as he stepped toward the patient.

"She's got a tension pneumo," he said. "We don't have time." He held out his hand toward the nurse beside him. "Give me the kit."

Russ immediately turned toward him.
"What? No." He lifted an index finger, shaking his head. "No way. We're not cleared to do this without supervision."

Arjay looked at him, frustration flashing across his face. "We're not gonna learn if we don't do."

Russ opened his mouth but had no answer.

Arjay turned back toward the nurse and reached for the kit. The nurse hesitated, looking between him and the crashing patient.

"You sure you can do this?"

"Yes."

Arjay took the kit and opened it, pulling out the scalpel. His hands moved with confidence, but the slight tremor in his fingers betrayed him.

"She's hypoxic. Trachea's deviated. This is textbook tension pneumo."

He looked at Russ, seeing the fear written all over his face. The truth was, he felt it too. He just refused to let it stop him.

"If we wait, she dies." His voice lowered. "You want to stand here and watch her code?"

Russ swallowed hard. "I—okay." He glanced at the patient, then back toward the trauma bay doors. "But if she crashes—"

"Second intercostal space. Midclavicular line."

Arjay ignored him, running his gloved fingers along the patient's chest.

"Just like the sim lab."

He positioned the scalpel. For a second, the confidence disappeared. The blade hovered inches above the patient's skin.

Russ stood frozen beside the monitor, watching the numbers drop while silently hoping someone, anyone, would walk through those doors.

Then a voice came from behind them.