The Shepherd Legacy

Sleep Deprived

Mary Shepherd stumbled through the front door of the Seattle Grace Hospital residents' home, her scrubs crumpled and her hair askew. The clock on the wall showed 8:00 PM, marking the end of another grueling shift. Too exhausted to make it upstairs to her room, she collapsed onto the living room couch, her breaths deep and even as sleep overtook her almost instantly.

In the living room, the rest of the Shepherd household - Derek, Meredith, Mark, and Lexie - were gathered around the table, their conversation halting at the sight of Mary's weary form. Mark was the first to react. He stood up, shaking his head with a mix of concern and brotherly affection.

"Kid's worked herself to the bone," he muttered, moving towards Mary. Gently, he tried to wake her, but she was deep in sleep, oblivious to the world. Without hesitation, Mark lifted her in his arms, carrying her to her bed with the ease of years of shared history and affection.

After tucking her in, Mark returned downstairs, the worry evident on his face mirroring the worry shared by everyone at the table. Derek, his brows knitted together, turned to Lexie. "How many hours has she been putting in at the hospital?" he asked, his voice tinged with both professional unease and brotherly care.

Lexie quickly did the mental math. "She's been pulling double shifts, and instead of sleeping, she stays up watching TV shows or reading. It's not healthy."

Mark chimed in, his tone grave. "I did a quick count. She's been getting maybe one to two hours of sleep a day for the past couple of weeks."

Derek's expression darkened. As a neurosurgeon, he knew all too well the risks of severe sleep deprivation. "This is unacceptable. I'll talk to her in the morning," he declared, his voice firm yet laced with underlying anxiety.

But morning seemed to come too soon for Mary. At around 12 AM, the living room was deserted, save for Derek, who had stayed up to watch 'Suits' on TV. He was lounging on the couch, a rare moment of relaxation for him as he was simply on call the next day.

The sound of footsteps on the stairs caught his attention, but he assumed it was Mark, perhaps in search of a late-night snack or drink. To his surprise, it was Mary, looking as tired as she had been a few hours earlier. She paused upon seeing Derek, a frown creasing her forehead.

Before she could retreat, Derek called out to her. "Mare, what are you doing up at this hour?"

She hesitated, then muttered, "Just getting a glass of water."

Derek's tone hardened. "If you were just getting water, you wouldn't have stopped because of me. Don't lie. What are you really doing up?"

Mary's response was laced with sass, reflecting her irritation and exhaustion. "Fine, I was getting my laptop from my bag," she retorted, gesturing towards the bag she had dropped in the living room earlier.

Derek shook his head, disappointment clear in his voice. "Mary, you know better than this. You need your sleep."

She snapped back, "Look who's talking! You're up watching TV instead of sleeping."

Derek remained calm, explaining his situation. "I don't have to be at the hospital early tomorrow. I'm on call. But you, you need your rest."

Mary, her cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and defiance, grabbed her bag. "Just mind your own business, Derek," she said sharply before attempting to head back upstairs.

However, Derek's voice, stern and unwavering, halted her in her tracks. "Mary, come back here. We need to talk."

Sighing, Mary turned around, her eyes rolling in exasperation. She trudged back into the living room and slumped into the armchair across from Derek. Derek and Mark were her brothers, yes, but they had also been her guardians. They had raised her in the wake of their parents' passing, and while they had always given her freedom, there was an unspoken expectation of obedience, a respect for the boundaries they set.