Code Blue, Pediatric OR 3. Code Blue, Pediatric OR 3.

The announcement echoed through Seattle Grace as Arizona was already running, her surgical shoes squeaking against the polished floors. She’d been reviewing post-op notes when the call came through, and her heart had immediately dropped.

OR 3 was where she’d left her patient just twenty minutes ago.

Arizona burst through the doors to find chaos—nurses scrambling, monitors flatlining, and the patient unconscious on the table, not breathing.

“What happened?” she demanded, already moving to the patient’s side.

“Post-operative complications, possible cardiac arrest,” one of the nurses reported quickly. “Lost pulse about thirty seconds ago.”

Arizona’s hands were already positioned on her patient’s chest, muscle memory taking over. “Get me an ambu bag and start compressions count.”

Thirty compressions. Hard and fast, exactly the way she’d done it countless times, but somehow this felt different. More personal.

“Come on,” she breathed between compressions, falling into that calm, authoritative voice that had guided her through hundreds of emergencies. “Don’t you dare give up on me now.”

The monitors stayed flat. Arizona switched to rescue breathing, then back to compressions, her focused determination filling the room.

“I’ve got you,” she said firmly. “You’re not going anywhere on my watch.”