The Shepherd Legacy

Speeding

In the dim light of Dr. Perkins' office at Seattle Grace Hospital, a heavy atmosphere filled with unspoken words lingered. Mary Shepherd sat stiffly across from Dr. Perkins, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, betraying her inner turmoil.

With a mix of concern and professionalism, Dr. Perkins broke the silence. "Your brother was shot. That's a lot to worry about," he said, his voice low and steady, echoing in the room.

Mary's eyes momentarily showed a shadow of pain, quickly masked by a calm façade. "I'm more worried about Mark, really," she replied, her voice betraying a hint of concern. "He had to commit Lexie to psych, as you know, and now he's always worried."

The recent events at the hospital had left everyone shaken. The shooting by Clark had been a traumatic experience for all, especially for Mary, who had to save Owen while knowing Derek was being operated on in the next room by Cristina. She remembered Cristina's tearful plea, "I'm trying to save your brother, so please save my guy." The memory was still fresh, the weight of the responsibility heavy on her young shoulders.

Dr. Perkins nodded, his gaze piercing as he assessed her. "Yes. I am here to talk about you, though. You watched your brother get shot."

Mary averted her gaze briefly. "Derek's fine. He's coming back to work today, actually," she said, trying to sound convincing.

There was a pause. Andrew raised an eyebrow at Mary, sensing the unsaid truths hiding behind her words.

Mary lost in her thoughts, murmured almost to herself, "We're all fine."

Her statement was a testament to the resilience of the Shepherd-Grey household. Despite their struggles with PTSD, each member had been cleared for surgery. Yet, the emotional scars remained, often hidden behind a façade of normalcy.

The shrill sound of a pager abruptly shattered the silence. Mary's head snapped up, her eyes widening slightly as she read the message. She stood up abruptly, her movements quick and purposeful. "Uh, ex-excuse me," she stammered, momentarily losing her composure.

Dr. Perkins watched her, his expression unreadable. "Is everything okay, Dr. Shepherd?"

Mary forced a smile, though it didn't reach her eyes. "Yes. Yes. Everything's fine," she lied, her heart racing as she hurried out of the room.

The page led her to an unfortunately familiar scene. Derek was sitting in a holding cell, surrounded by inmates. He was tending to a prisoner with a bruise on his chest, his demeanor calm and professional despite the circumstances.

The cop, seeing Mary, directed her to the cell. "Opening two."

Derek, oblivious to Mary's arrival, continued to advise the prisoner. "It doesn't look too bad. You just gotta keep an eye on it. Make sure it doesn't get any bigger. But if it changes color, you should see a doctor."

"Dr. Shepherd," the officer called out, breaking Derek's concentration.

Derek looked up, his eyes meeting Mary's. The moment was charged, a complex mix of emotions passing between them.

The prisoner smirked, noticing the tension. "Your sister looks pissed," he commented, watching the unfolding drama with interest.

Mary, her expression a mix of disapproval and concern, locked eyes with Derek. "Again, Derek?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper yet carrying a weight of disappointment and worry.

The drive to the hospital was tense, filled with an uncomfortable silence. Mary gripped the steering wheel tightly, her mind racing with thoughts she couldn't voice. She respected Derek too much to confront him directly, yet her worry and frustration were evident in her clenched jaw and furrowed brow.