(no subject)
She should have been relieved. Happy. Ecstatic, even. But what she felt was panic. The clinic staff had lost two of its' best doctors, Grey was now in charge, and it was only a matter of time before it became quite clear what a complete hack Sadie Harris had turned out to be. Her father was right: she wasn't cut out for this, and she never would be. She couldn't celebrate Meredith for what was technically a promotion; she couldn't take joy in the fact that her friend was now her boss. It didn't mean what she'd hoped it would; she wasn't going to get to slide by now, she was going to have to work harder. She would have to apply herself, to prove herself.
The problem was that Sadie wasn't sure she had anything to prove. All through school, she'd always relied on Grey, and now it seemed the future had the same in store. It would be a repeat of her time at Seattle Grace, only worse. She had more to lose now, and she wouldn't even be able to flee the city. She was - in the worst sense of the word - screwed.
If she didn't stop thinking about it, Sadie was going to lose her mind before the island ever gave her a chance to fuck up at the clinic. Having found nothing of use in the magazine the shelf had provided her with, Sadie flipped to the least busy page she could find and tore it out. She slipped off the couch to sit on the floor, where she could better hover over the page. With a pen she'd borrowed (stolen) from the clinic, Sadie drew a box and four letters. H for hut, T for treehouse, C for Compound, and... she couldn't think of a fourth, so she left it at that.
"Hey," she called out, glancing up at the nearest person. "Wanna play?"
(Yes, she is playing MASH, island edition. You know you want to join in! Everyone welcome.)
The problem was that Sadie wasn't sure she had anything to prove. All through school, she'd always relied on Grey, and now it seemed the future had the same in store. It would be a repeat of her time at Seattle Grace, only worse. She had more to lose now, and she wouldn't even be able to flee the city. She was - in the worst sense of the word - screwed.
If she didn't stop thinking about it, Sadie was going to lose her mind before the island ever gave her a chance to fuck up at the clinic. Having found nothing of use in the magazine the shelf had provided her with, Sadie flipped to the least busy page she could find and tore it out. She slipped off the couch to sit on the floor, where she could better hover over the page. With a pen she'd borrowed (stolen) from the clinic, Sadie drew a box and four letters. H for hut, T for treehouse, C for Compound, and... she couldn't think of a fourth, so she left it at that.
"Hey," she called out, glancing up at the nearest person. "Wanna play?"
(Yes, she is playing MASH, island edition. You know you want to join in! Everyone welcome.)