Author's Note: Thank you all for the reviews and the supportive messages. It's always nerve-wracking to start writing for a new fandom, and I was completely blown away by the response to this. Seriously, thank you!
He squints intently at the open cavity looking for bleeders or severed capillaries as possible sources for the unexplained blood seeping in around the damaged spleen. The unhealthy tissue appears pale in contrast to the bright red, oxidized blood, and he mentally adds the organ to the long list of damages that have been inflicted upon his young patient.
The whirl of the saw near the head of the operating table informs him that Torres has added something else to a growing list, and his frown deeps as he leans closer towards the incision in order to concentrate on the surgery at hand. Gingerly shifting the organ aside, he focuses on the tangle of blood vessels slowly sliding his gaze across each one. With an audible sigh of relief, he spots the bleeder and calls for the scrub nurse to hand him a clamp.
"Good job, Karev," Torres replies in a muffled voice through the surgical mask covering much of her face as she shuts off the small, precision saw. He grunts in acknowledgment as he cauterizes the wound pausing only after the flow of blood ceases to glance up at the damage Torres is attending to.
"I'm gonna need to remove the spleen," Alex informs her with a grimace catching the obvious sadness in Torres' eyes. "Her risk of infection during post-op is—"
"Her x-rays showed multiple fractions. She's a fighter," Torres retorts glancing up at the patient's face. The little girl's strawberry blonde hair is held together in a poor excuse for a braid that peaks out from under the blue, gauzy surgical cap, and the deep and extensive bruising on her face causes both surgeons to blanch at the sight.
"I'm glad Wilson wasn't here to see this," the female doctor interjects after a long pause. And then with a chuckle, with a slightly inappropriate wistful smile, she contradicts her previous statement adding that if the fifth-year resident had been here, they probably would have three patients to attend to – the little girl and her foster parents.
Although Callie cannot see anything behind the surgical mask covering his mouth, Karev's slight smile at the suggestion is slowly replaced with a deep frown as he remembers just how violent Jo can become with abusers and shitty parents. The last thing he wants is for her to wind up in jail on the day she's supposed to be taking her boards, and he turns his attention back to the damaged spleen in order to clear his mind of the suggestion.
"No word on her boards, huh?" Torres questions misinterpreting his silence on Wilson's willingness to kick ass as a shift in his focus onto the topic currently fueling the hospital rumor mill.
Ross, who had flown back to the States specifically for the examination while his mentor visited her person in Seattle, had texted Yang almost three hours ago informing her that he had passed. The news had shocked them all as no one had expected to hear so early yet slowly but surely the news had begun to trickle in about which the surgical residents had passed – first, Ross then Björn, Elizondo, and Yu.
The only three residents who have yet to text with their results are Edwards, Warren, and Wilson, and the hospital is awash with rumors that one or two or all three of them failed. Or, Callie's personal favorites, that the two female residents have proclaimed their love for one another and headed south to Tijuana for tequila and unbridled passion. She cannot help the laughter that escapes as she absentmindedly blurts out the suggestion only stopping when she feels the heat of Alex's hostile stare.
"Please, your girlfriend is not into vaginas. If she was, she sure as hell wouldn't be putting up with your crap," Torres replies with a roll of her eyes before glancing up at the clock mounted on the wall. "Besides—oh."
The tone in her voice causes Alex to shift his gaze away from the surgery at hand to glance at the clock, and he swallows uncomfortably when he notices the little hand of the clock dipping dangerously close to the nine. Her flight should land in five minutes or so, and Webber is likely making the rounds reminding the attendings on call to meet in the ambulance bay at half-past nine.
"I'm sure it's nothing," Torres says dismissively as she turns back to the three inch opening along the patient's left shoulder. She squints at the end of clavicle mentally measuring the inches in order to assure that enough of the bone has been removed before moving on to the underside of the acromion. "You know, 'W' comes after 'R' and—"
"What alphabet did you learn where 'W' comes before 'E' but after 'Y'?" Alex questions with a smirk and a pointed look. Torres stands up straight, glares at him over the top of her surgical mask, and turns on the small saw effectively cutting off his correction of her mistake.
Alex smirks behind his mask as he dips his head down to concentrate on removing the spleen. He quickly makes the necessary incisions with his scalpel straining to listen to the heart monitoring over the sound of Torres' incisions. The machine maintains a steady beep throughout the procedure, and he methodically checks the surrounding blood vessels and capillaries for residual bleeders while Torres works on carefully slicing through bone one more time.
The small, precision saw is dropped onto the tray of sterile surgical instruments with a loud clatter, but his concentration remains unbroken as he nearly finishes sewing up the incision until Torres calls out his name asking for assistance on stabilizing the rotator cuff. He glances up and around the room searching for an intern to sub in his place and sliding his gaze up a little bit higher to spy the big hand of the clock resting right smack dab between the two and the three.
And Alex audibly curses at the lack of interns on hands and the new rule limiting their work week to barely more than half the hours he put in when he was a surgical intern as he finishes his final stitch, as he sets the surgical instruments aside and proceed to round the patient's head to help Torres finish her own surgery.
"At least, 'K' comes before 'W'," Torres informs him in place of an apology for detaining him or a thanks for his assistance as he moves to help patch together the fragmented pieces of the young patient's shoulder. His eyebrows pitch upwards in surprise, and Torres shoots him a knowing look over the rim of her surgical mask as she ducks her head to investigate the damage.
"Yang's a freakin' liar," Alex informs her in an exasperated tone, and Torres snorts in response because she always thought he, at least, had the better rejoinders of the pair.
"Webber let it slip to Robbins," Torres informs him. "I think Grey told him to tell her since she's out tonight because she wanted to make sure you'd be able to get down to the ambulance bay and—"
She trails off uncomfortably with a grimace because there's no way he can casually meet the bus bringing the fifth-year residents back from the airport now. And her grimace lifts into a smile when she listens to his lame assertions that he was not going to propose tonight, that this hospital is filled with death and liars and gossips who have no idea what they're talking about.
"So I guess if you're proposing, that means Wilson's not going to Boston?" Callie interjects over his mutterings about how Grey and Yang are both dead. The question silences him immediately because that's the logical conclusion, because that's the million dollar question that has prevented him from asking the other million dollar question. "Cause Wilson is badass. She was made for ortho. And New England Bap—"
The tap at the glass causes both of them to glance up at the observation room, and they each toss the other a pointed glance with the hope that the brunette woman looking down at them missed the entirety of their conversation. Both of them strain to read the expression on her face; both of them grin widely behind their surgical masks when the woman in the sleeveless purple dress drops her unreadable expression and begins bouncing and screaming with excitement.
The silent screams answer their question as to how much she heard, and their words of congratulations are muffled instead by laughter over how she clearly forgot to switch on the intercom before making her announcement. Their laughter is magnified as they watch her dance around the observation room, and Alex nearly misses Callie's dismissive words that he can go and she'll finish up here as he watches the ridiculous spectacle.
"Karev, I expect to see her and the ring at the celebration at Joe's tonight," Torres calls after his returning form as he steps through the automatic doors separating the operating room from the sinks. "Don't make me pull a Meredith and show up uninvited at your house."
He rips off his gloves and gown tossing them both into the hazardous waste bin to the left of the scrub sinks before pushing open the door leading to the hallway. He nearly collides with Bailey and Warren – the married couple clearly about to engage in their own celebration in the nearest on-call room – as he rounds the corner heading towards the staircase leading to the observation room. He nearly collides with Wilson as she dances and loudly celebrates her victory on her way out of the stairwell towards the operating room.
And she barely has time to form the 'I' at the beginning of her now often repeated statement before his hand slides around her waist, before he pulls her towards him and presses his lips against her parted mouth. Her arms immediately slide around his neck as she leans into his embrace; her right hand immediately cups the back of his head as she meets his lips with her own.
"Told you," he tells her punctuating each syllable with another kiss.
"Shut up," she replies brusquely as she moves to her tiptoes and tries to deepen the kiss. And just when he's about to give in, just when she's spun him around and pressed him against the wall of the hallway, she breaks the kiss and marvels aloud, "I passed."
He dips his head to kiss her again, moves to press his lips to the skin of her jaw and finally whisper his congratulations when the palpable excitement on her face seems to dim slightly. His eyebrows furrow in confusion as he searches for the worst case scenario in this best possible outcome – Edwards failing being the only thing that springs to mind – and he nudges her gently with his elbow to get her to fess up.
"Grey Sloan, obviously, already knows," she says referencing the pediatric surgical fellowship she was offered contingent on her passing the boards. "But I need to call New England Baptist, and they're probably going to want to know—"
"Jo!"
The interjection of her name interrupts their conversation, and both Alex and Jo turn to look at Stephanie with rather unfriendly expressions. The wide, excited grin on the resident's face falters in response, and she awkwardly shifts her bag on her shoulder as she gestures to the other three residents who passed their boards gathered around her.
"Uh, we're going to go to Joe's and celebrate with some of the attendings," Stephanie reminds her before offering her a pointed look. "And, dammit, Jo, you promised you wouldn't ditch me for your boyfriend tonight."
"Uh," Jo stutters out looking from her fellow residents to the attending she currently has pressed up against the wall.
"Go and celebrate," Alex tells her as he releases his grip from around her waist and gestures to his dark blue scrubs. "I need to go clean up, and then I'll be there, okay?"
"Okay," she replies, although the look in her eyes hints to more cautiousness than the tone of her voice conveys. She presses her lips to his one last time, offers him a wide grin when she breaks the kiss and informs him once again that she passed, and then hurries off to join the last remaining member of her class in a celebration of their victory.
Pushing himself away from the wall, Alex reaches up to pull the scrub hat off his head and balls it in his fist. He can still hear Jo and the rest of the fifth-year residents excitedly announcing they passed to every nurse, doctor, and orderly they meet as he makes his way down the empty hallway towards the attendings lounge. Their excited voices are only silenced after one of the nurses yells at them for interrupting patients in recovery, but the noise is replaced by the excited murmurings of the attendings – Kepner, Webber, Robbins – walking out of the lounge in a clumped, tittering mass.
"You comin', Karev?" Robbins calls after him as he slips past her through the open door of the lounge. Alex grumbles something about needing to change, about catching up with them later earning him a weary and inquisitive look from the blonde, neonatal surgical attending.
Robbins waves the other two attendings ahead of her reminding them to make sure they grab Hunt on their way out of the hospital. Intently following her mentee into the lounge, she slams the door behind her in order to offer them a modicum of privacy.
"Wilson didn't say no, did she?" Robbins asks him as he stands with her back towards her yanking open his gym bag in search of a change of clothes so he can get out of his dark blue scrubs. He shoots her a disgruntled look over his shoulder and states in a rather exasperated voice that, despite the rumors, he had no plans to propose today. "Because you're worried about Boston?"
"No," he snaps forcefully as he tugs the blue scrub top over his head. He snatches the grey t-shirt out of his bag, slides his arms through the sleeves, and pulls it on in one swift, easy movement.
"Because sometimes distance is good," Robbins asserts. "It helps put things into perspective. I went to Africa and all I could think about Callie so maybe Wilson will go to Boston and realize—"
"You and Torres got divorced," he reminds her looking over his shoulder at her, and the blonde woman narrows her eyes at him in an unspoken reminder of just how much of an ass he can be. With a sigh, Alex relaxes his defensive posture and meets Robbins' rapidly softening gaze.
"Look, Jo worked way too hard to become a surgeon for me to tell her not to go to Boston. I love her. I'm not gonna do that to her. So, tonight, we're going to Joe's and celebrating her passing her boards. That's it. Got it?"
For a moment, it appears that Robbins might be willing to go along with his plan for the evening, but her eyebrows knit in concern and suddenly Robbins is pestering him with questions about whether or not his refusal to tell Wilson not to go to Boston means he's considering leaving Seattle and following her across the country.
And Alex groans at the realization that she's not going to drop this topic, pulls a pair of jeans from his bag, heads towards the bathroom on the other side of the room, and abruptly ends the conversation with a slam of the door. He kicks off his sneakers and tugs at the drawstring of his pants as Robbins continues to talk to him through the door, but she gives up right around the time he finishes pulling on his jeans and he exits the bathroom to find the lounge devoid of people who could pester him about proposals or job offers.
He tosses his sneakers back into his bag and slides his feet into the nicer shoes he wore into work this morning. And then with one last furtive glance over his shoulder, he reaches into the hidden, inner pocket of his bag and pulls out a small, velvet box. Flipping open the lid with one hand, Alex's eyes skim appraisingly over the square diamond in the middle and the diamond incrusted band nestled in the box.
Alex quickly clicks the box closed when the wooden door of the attendings lounge swings open – the slated blinds slamming wildly against the glass –and he shoves the box into the far reaches of his bag as Doctor Hunt steps into the room. He swings the strap of the bag over his shoulder and grabs his jacket off the hook in a silent reply to Owen's question as to whether or not he's coming to Joe's tonigh, and the pair step out into the silent hallway together making their way towards the elevator bank.
And as doors of the elevator slide open, as the two step into the empty elevator and he pushes the button for the ground floor of the hospital, Owen turns to look at him with an evident question on his face. Alex opens his mouth to reiterate once again that he has no plans to propose tonight only to shut it and scowl instead when he hears the actual question on Owen's mind.
"So any idea if Wilson is going to accept the fellowship here or take the one in Boston? The, uh, board needs to know."