Grey Sloan Memorial was buzzing with tension—more than usual. A high-profile case had just been admitted: a teen patient with a rare condition, one whose treatment options were medically possible… but ethically complicated.
You and Jackson were the two surgeons assigned. And you could already feel the storm brewing.
THE PATIENT
The patient’s parents wanted an experimental procedure—one that had only been performed twice worldwide, both with unpredictable outcomes. The hospital board was hesitant. Protocol was unclear. And the kid? Terrified.
You and Jackson had spent the last hour talking through options, pacing in an empty conference room with charts scattered everywhere.
THE ARGUMENT
“Jackson, we can’t do it,” you said, rubbing your temples. “The evidence isn’t strong enough. If something goes wrong—”
“If we don’t try, they could die,” Jackson interrupted, voice sharp but not unkind. He was passionate, stubborn, brilliant—everything that made him a great surgeon and a frustrating colleague.
You crossed your arms. “We can stabilize them while we look for something safer. This procedure isn’t the only option.”
Jackson let out a humorless laugh. “You don’t believe that. You’re just scared of the fallout.”
Your jaw clenched. “This isn’t about fear. It’s about ethics.”
He stepped closer, eyes intense. “Ethics don’t matter if the kid doesn’t make it to tomorrow.”
You hated that he had a point. He hated that you did too.
WHEN TRUST IS TESTED
He turned away, hand gripping the back of a chair as he tried to collect himself.
“Why won’t you trust me on this?” he asked quietly.
You blinked, thrown off.
“Jackson… this isn’t about trust between us. It’s about doing what’s right.”
He shook his head. “No. It is about us.” He glanced back at you. “Every time we’re in a room together—every surgery, every case—you expect me to have your back. And I do. But right now I need you to have mine.”