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Medical Center.
Adam was meeting his four new interns.
Except for the last one, the other three were familiar faces.
Carter had been with Adam in the ER.
Hmm.
Back then, he was sharp and humble, but after a month or so apart, now that he'd ditched the medical student cap and become an official intern, he seemed a bit too full of himself.
Was that a good thing?
Nope, not really!
But Adam figured after surviving the first 36-hour intern shift, Carter would come crashing down from his "Dr. Carter" high—whether he landed on his feet or his face was up to luck.
Honestly, Adam got where Carter was coming from.
Think about Howard—same vibe.
With his buddies, it was always "Dr. Cooper, Dr. Hofstadter, Dr. Koothrappali," and then… "Mr. Wolowitz."
Later, it evolved into "Dr. Cooper, Dr. Hofstadter, Dr. Koothrappali, Dr. Fowler, Dr. Rostenkowski," and still… "Mr. Wolowitz."
Anyone would lose it inside.
If Howard ever snagged that PhD and joined his crew—and his wife—at that level, adding "Dr. Wolowitz" to the lineup?
He'd probably float back to the International Space Station.
No rocket needed this time, and definitely no screaming or wetting himself.
He'd soar through the atmosphere like a pint-sized Jewish-Greek god—Wolow-Zeus—looking down on the planet.
Who'd be crazier then? Sheldon with his "foolish Earthlings" rants, or Wolow-Zeus? Tough call.
After Howard's embarrassing space trip, he came back with this cocky edge everyone hated, bragging about being an astronaut who'd "been to the stars."
Sheldon and the gang even bet on it—pick any random topic, and Howard would somehow tie it back to his proud astronaut status.
Spoiler: he always did.
Even his wife, Bernadette, got so fed up with his rocket-launch-style flirting that she lost all interest.
Hard to say if later, when Howard tried studying for a PhD with Sheldon—and got pranked into dropping it—Sheldon's antics were partly fueled by a gut feeling that a Dr. Howard would get way too full of himself.
Back in the day, Howard was the king of messing with Sheldon, and he was just "Mr. Wolowitz" then.
A "Dr. Wolowitz"?
Sheldon's science-snob mental attacks would drop 50%, while a unleashed Howard's physical jabs at Sheldon would spike 50%. Sheldon probably couldn't handle it.
Carter going from "Mr. Carter" to "Dr. Carter" wasn't that extreme, but it still turned heads.
One's a cocky PhD who'd just get mocked with no real harm done.
The other? A doctor whose slip-ups could mean life or death!
It took Howard ages to wise up.
Adam wasn't giving Carter that long.
Carter had no clue about the whirlwind of thoughts in Adam's head. When he saw Dr. Duncan glance his way, he flashed a confident, buddy-buddy grin, sneaking side-eyes at his three peers, sizing them up.
"George? No threat. Sure, he's Dr. Duncan's colleague and has a year of experience, but he flunked the boards and got cut. He's weak.
Plus, being a colleague means he'll never be Duncan's inner-circle guy!
Little Grey's a stunner—dangerous.
But with Dr. Duncan's straight-laced style, that's actually her Achilles' heel.
If she's anything like Dr. Grey… her fancy Harvard Med grad status won't mean squat.
Here's hoping Grey is just Grey!
The real threat's this short guy—Johns Hopkins grad…
Damn it!
Why are they all from these elite schools?!
I hate Ivy Leaguers!"
If Harvard Med was a Nobel Prize, Johns Hopkins was a Fields Medal.
One's world-famous.
The other's unbeatable in its field!
Either way, they crush NYU Med a hundred times over.
If Carter didn't already have that ER history with Adam, he wouldn't be strutting around. He'd be flashing humble smiles at every smug glance from these top-school grads.
"Some of you probably know this already," Adam said, scanning the group with a grin. "The surgical department here has five rules for new interns."
Carter and George jumped in unison, kicking off their little show, rattling off the classic five rules like pros.
"Nice."
Adam shot Carter an approving smile.
He'd been in the ER before, but nailing the surgical rules so fast and clean showed he'd prepped hard.
Not too cocky yet.
Good! 😊
Lexie's smile stiffened at Carter and George's display.
Nobody likes a show-off—especially not your rivals.
Yup!
She could already smell the battlefield smoke.
And it was thick.
Meanwhile, short-stuff Neil Melendez stood off to the side, totally unfazed by the rookie showdown.
"Maybe this guy's the real future star," Adam thought, eyeing their reactions.
George and Carter were average talent-wise. One was a friend and colleague; the other was his first follower, with a bonus for those braised pig trotters vibes.
How far they'd go depended on their hustle.
Lexie's resume sparkled, and with the Grey name—even if she wasn't Alice Grey's blood—her talent was legit.
But her personality? She didn't have her sister's seasoned, go-with-the-flow grit or Cristina's laser-focused medical obsession.
Could she push past her mental blocks and grow into the big-doctor mindset of her half-sister's mom? That'd take some serious coaching from Adam.
Out of the four, only this Johns Hopkins shorty had a rocksteady vibe and that Cristina-like, all-in passion for medicine in his eyes.
Adam was sure: give him a shot, and he'd shine fast.
The catch? Would he impress Adam enough?
No matter how bright he burned, if the Medical Center's "sun" didn't feel like shining on him, what good was it?
A rotten attitude could leave his brilliance—and everyone else's dimness—pointless.
"So, those are the five rules, more or less," Adam said with a laugh. "But I'm tweaking the first one a bit. I don't hate you guys, so let's swap it for a basic, non-negotiable one…"
Then he laid it out: survival of the fittest, no cozying up to senior docs—period.
"Follow it, and we're golden. Don't, and you're either warming the bench, wasting your precious intern days, or out the door."
Adam scanned them again. "We clear?"
"Crystal!"
All four shouted back.
But their vibes? George gave a bitter smirk, Carter puffed up proud, Lexie looked deflated, and Neil Melendez's eyes blazed with fire! 🔥