Monday.
5 a.m.
Routine rounds.
No booming announcement of the dean leading the charge, no gaggle of doctors clogging the halls, no dramatic background music. Just grumpy patients woken up too early and interns plastering on apologetic smiles.
After wrapping up the usual checklist, Adam ran into Cristina in the hallway.
"What are you doing?" he asked, staring at her in confusion as she kept widening her eyes like a cartoon character.
"Testing the Staring Eye Technique—the Glaring Eye Technique," Cristina said, still trying to stretch her squinting eyes to their limit. "Legend has it there's this mysterious Dr. X in Cuba who glares like crazy during surgery, and her success rate's off the charts. They call it theGlaringEye Technique. I'm seeing if it works."
Adam couldn't help but laugh. "Every doctor's got their quirks, but you don't seriously think that kind of habit can turn into some universal surgical superpower, do you? Besides, she probably rocks a pair of big, glamorous eyes. No matter how hard you try, you're not pulling that off."
Cristina shot him a glare, dropped the act, and stormed off.
Beep beep. Beep beep.
His pager went off. Adam glanced at it and hurried to Room 2.
"Dr. Burke, you called for me?" he asked, pushing the door open, a little surprised.
It was the first time Dr. Burke had paged him directly.
Inside, a Black man in his thirties lay on the bed, with a very pregnant Black woman standing beside him. Dr. Burke was chatting with them, his tone and demeanor screaming old friends. Adam put two and two together.
"Bill, Holly, this is Dr. Duncan, the best intern we've got. He'll be your attending resident, running all your tests. Don't worry—we'll figure out what's going on," Dr. Burke said, introducing them before turning to Adam. "Dr. Duncan, Bill's a good friend of mine. Take care of him, got it?"
"Got it," Adam replied with a nod. Called it.
Doctors are human too, and humans play favorites. When a buddy lands in your domain, you roll out the red carpet.
And who's the best intern around? Obviously Adam. His medical knowledge, ER skills, and sharp instincts were top-notch—less like an intern, more like a seasoned resident.
Dr. Burke, as the attending and acting surgical chief, wasn't about to babysit his friend through every tedious test and post-op detail. But illness is tricky, unpredictable. A solid attending resident could make all the difference in a pinch—maybe even save a life. That tattooed self-harm nutcase from last time was proof enough.
So even though Adam was Leonard's guy, Burke picked him without hesitation.
"The patient's got abdominal pain and blood in his urine. Initial tests came up inconclusive. Urology suggested a cystoscopy," Burke explained. "Get things ready and join me in the OR."
"Yes, sir," Adam said with a grin.
Something to do right out of the gate? Nice.
Cystoscopy also reminded him of Sheldon's classic line: "My bladder, my rules!" Picturing Sheldon solemnly declaring that, only to lose control and sprint to the bathroom, cracked Adam up even more.
In the OR, after sterilization and local anesthesia, Adam inserted the cystoscope with practiced ease. Dr. Burke watched from the side, quietly impressed.
Bill, the patient, lay on the table. The local numbed him enough that he didn't feel the scope—good thing, too. No guy wants to think about a tube sliding up their urethra.
"Thanks, Preston," Bill said to Burke. "I know this isn't your job."
It was technically a urology case, but since they couldn't pin down the issue, it'd landed here. For a regular patient, inconclusive results might mean a referral to a better specialist or just toughing it out at home. But as the acting surgical chief's pal? Different story. Best docs, best care, all hands on deck. Unless it was some unheard-of mystery disease, they'd crack it. And even if they couldn't, easing the symptoms or pain was a breeze.
"No big deal. Keeps my intern busy," Burke said with a smile.
"I bet he's running you all ragged, huh?" Bill teased, glancing at Adam. "We were in the same frat at Tulane back in the day—used to torture the pledges trying to join. Now he's torturing you interns, right?"
Adam chuckled. Another frat bro, huh? They always love hazing the newbies.
"I could spill way more dirt on him," Bill added, clearly warming up to the topic.
It made sense—he was probably trying to distract himself from the fear. But Adam wasn't about to join in or egg him on. Dishing gossip about the big boss to his face? Only an idiot would pull that.
"Bill, there's a cystoscope inside you right now. Maybe not the best time to air my dirty laundry," Burke cut in.
If his buddy spilled the beans, how was he supposed to keep any authority as the senior doc?
Adam caught Burke's glance and got the hint. He smirked to himself. Authority comes from skill, sure, but also distance. Take Dr. Shepherd, the other hotshot vying for surgical chief. Ever since he got tangled up with his intern Meredith in some unmentionable way, his senior-doctor cred hit the floor.
Last week, during a neurosurgery, Meredith had the gall to publicly question and argue with Shepherd's call. Thing is, Shepherd proved why he's a neurosurgery rockstar—his decision was spot-on. If they'd gone with Meredith's half-baked idea, the patient might've died. Normally, an underling pulling that stunt would've been toast. But Meredith? She got a sigh, a compliment, and a free pass.
Well, duh—Shepherd's dating her. What else is he gonna do but forgive her?
Adam's private amusement came from spotting the sparks between Cristina and Burke. Who knows when they'd turn into another messy Shepherd-Meredith situation? When that happened, Burke's authority would take a dive too.
"Is it bad?" Holly, Bill's pregnant wife, asked nervously from the OR sidelines. She'd picked up on Adam and Burke dodging her husband's jokes.
"We'll know once this is done," Burke reassured her. "Just focus on the baby—don't worry about anything else."
Adam noticed something odd on the scope and spoke up. "Dr. Burke."
"What's wrong?" Holly gasped.
Burke took a look, startled but keeping his cool. "Dr. Duncan, biopsy that and set up a CT," he said casually before turning back to his friends. "Could be a few things. No need to panic yet."
After the biopsy and CT, Adam stared at the results, dumbfounded.
You live long enough, you see it all…