13th December 20X4

"I'm dying."
"You're not dying."

Matthew's voice gave away just how disinterested he was. Maybe that was because he was an uncaring, failure of a brother, or maybe it was because he was fed up of hearing the same, regurgitated speech that he'd heard in varying forms every night for the past two weeks. Alfred would have argued he was being unfair, but anyone having to listen to the uninterrupted pining even just for one evening would quickly give in too.

"I might as well be." Alfred huffed, pressing his face into the cushion only to whine loud enough to completely negate the point of having it there. He was face down on the sofa, a worn and beaten fabric thing that he and his half-brother had dragged across the continent twice between university and internship – and it had seen its fair share of Alfred's tantrums. Matthew, meanwhile, was stood in their kitchen, attention split three ways between making their dinner – as apparently Alfred was in too dire of a state to cook – his ridiculous brother and a medical textbook. "He's sex on legs, Matt, he's literally sex on legs." He groaned, rolling over onto his back. "…I hope you're looking up a cure for stupid, unrequited crushes in that book."

"Of course I am, chapter 3: Diseases of the heart, really stupid crushes that your brother will bug you with when you could be studying." He ignored the glare he got, by now able to picture the exact amount Alfred's lower lip jutted out under his top and the exact width of his puffed-up cheeks. It hadn't changed since they were three. "It says here the first step is to stop being a giant baby." He did turn then, though in doing so was met full in the face with the cushion the American had until now been using to hide his face in. Matthew only laughed, picking the pillow up as his baby brother stomped over to turn his glare full force on the other.

Alfred hadn't been like this when he first started his internship, but maybe that was because they had a different head of cardio when he got there. He'd gotten into the course no problem, he'd been valedictorian in his graduation from med school and he was one of the most promising interns they had – and if his elder brother's success in the same hospital was anything to go by then he definitely had nothing to worry about. But that had been the first five months, the first five months where he'd been flitting about on different people's services, learning about different specialities and competing in a friendly way with the other interns.

And then their head of cardio had to be replaced.

It had been a normal day, waking up at five and driving in for pre-rounds with Matthew, though they'd been careful to make sure Alfred was in a group of interns not assigned to his elder brother. Though that had been an hour ago, it was now time for what Doctor Hedervary liked to call 'Question time', a friendly name for a game in which their scary resident would have no problem kicking her interns to The Pit for getting one question wrong.

"Uhh…Hairy cell leukaemia?"
"Is that a question or an answer, Jones?" Dr. Hedevary ties her hair up as she asks, a perfectly sculpted eyebrow raising in demand for another answer.

"Uh- I mean, answer. Hairy cell leukaemia." He's shaking a little, either from the lack of sleep or nerves because he really, really doesn't want to be assigned to The Pit two days in a row. He got yelled at last time and dropped a packet of blood – not a good move for his reputation.

"Congratulations, Jones, you got every question right." Alfred visibly relaxes, having been terrified he was going to be sent down with the other three interns that had been sent. "Okay, Vargas, Smith, with me. Jones, I want you to go to room 207, I was asked to send an intern there and you're the one today." They go their different ways, Alfred flicking through the chart Hedervary had given him.

The patient is twenty two, already had one heart transplant but this one had failed and they need a new one – fast. He reviews the information quickly as he makes his way to the room, a little nervous about what he's expected to do and whose service he's supposed to be on; He's only worked with one cardio surgeon in the hospital before, he was old and cranky and he seemed to have a personal vendetta for Alfred from the get-go, he did not want to repeat that.

The door is open as he approaches and when he levels with the room he finds a slim, blond and rather young looking doctor in place of the old, rounding and balding man he'd been expecting, though he was looking at the man from behind. The doctor in question is talking to the patient, a weary looking young woman who still seems to be managing to smile despite her situation. Alfred clears his throat, stepping into the room with the chart in hand. If only he knew.

The blond man turns, one eyebrow raising as his gaze lands on the American intern, and god Alfred could swear his heart skipped a beat. He is young, though clearly older than Alfred himself of course and dressed in the navy scrubs of an attending, dark eyebrows over piercing green eyes that stare right into Alfred's own, seeming to say 'And just who are you—'. No wait, they are saying that.

"Who are you, exactly?" Lord and he has an accent. "—Excuse me?" Those piercing eyes turn impatient and Alfred quickly realises he's been staring in silence for a good few moments.

"Uhh—" He shakes his head, stepping into the room quickly with his hand outstretched. "I'm Alfred Jones, the uh, Doctor Hedervary sent me here she said you needed an intern to kiss—assist you." Well that couldn't have gone any better.

The eyebrow remains raised, ignoring the outstretched hand and instead taking the chart from the dumbstruck American's hand. "I asked for a competent intern, the best there was if it were possible, are you sure you're in the right place?"

There's a brief moment when Alfred feels pride swell in his chest from being referred to as 'the best', which must be true since Doctor Hedevary never messes about with these sorts of things, but it's quickly crushed as the doctor finishes his sentence. "I—Yes, I am. I'm sorry, sir, I wasn't expecting- I didn't know what I was sent here for." The Englishman's gaze flickers away from him, scanning the chart with a quiet 'hm', hard to tell if directed at Alfred or the papers in his hand.

"Well, doctor Jones, what can you tell me about our patient here?"

"Miss Johnson came into the ER five years ago…"

It was only later that Alfred found out the name of the surgeon he was working with; Arthur Kirkland, the new head of Cardiothoracics – ironically fitting as he proceeded to take up all the space in Alfred's heart in pining for those glaring green eyes. It only took one smile to finally grace those ever-frowning lips of the English surgeon and he was hooked.

"It's not funny!"
"Oh, now that's where you're wrong, it's very funny."
Alfred snatched the cushion back from his brother, childish glare still in place and accompanied with a huff as he hopped up on the counter. "You weren't this mean when I was in med school!"
"You didn't have a giant crush on an attending in med school." Matthew grinned, obviously very pleased with himself. "Everyone else thinks it's funny."
"What do you mean 'everyone else'?" Alfred's expression turned from angry to horrified, eyes widening. "No one else knows about this but you, don't they?"
"I mean 'everyone else', stupid. Of course they know, the only person who hasn't noticed you mooning over your precious Arthur 'sex-on-legs' Kirkland is Arthur 'sex-on-legs' Kirkland." Alfred groaned again, a mixture of embarrassment, anger and frustration fuelling the intern's sound.
"…You're not going to tell anyone I called him that, are you?"
"What kind of a brother would I be if I didn't?"

Alfred jumped off the counter, hitting his brother with the cushion once more before stomping out of their kitchenette and towards the door of his bedroom. "I hate you." He threw the couch cushion back onto the sofa as he went, making sure to slam the door behind him.

"Okay, just try to keep your fantasies about Doctor Kirkland in your room please, the apartment's not soundproofed." There was a faint 'oh my god Matthew' from the other side of Alfred's door, which only made the resident laugh because it proved his point far too well. Teasing his baby brother was much more fun than listening to him pining.

So that's that.

Quick reference for you:
Alfred: Intern, 24
Matthew: Second-year Resident, 26
Elizaveta: Fourth-year Resident, 28
(The briefly mentioned) Lovina (Yes Lovina): Intern, 24
Arthur: Attending, 32

I'm going by what I know of the British medical system, but the story is based in America and if that's different please correct me.
I also don't actually have any medical knowledge, or not much, so if you do and notice any discrepancies, again, correct me.

More characters will be introduced as the story progresses. Drabbles should be added in a relatively chronological order, but if I feel like it I might add in something from earlier or later, such as looking at people's back stories.

This is also very loosely based on Grey's Anatomy in the sense of hospital interactions, and you might notice parallels, though I won't intentionally take plotlines from the show.

So yeah. Thanks!