A.N. It's my brand new MerDer story, a little different than what I've written so far in my two other fics and I'm very excited to hear what you think of the concept! I was inspired by the serial killer arc and couldn't get this idea out of my head. Cheers!
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I'm Meredith Grey, I'm from Seattle and I'm a lawyer. Everyone I know and everyone who knows my mother was shocked when I went to law school. My mother was shocked too. It was assumed that the daughter of the great Dr. Ellis Grey would follow her mother's footsteps. There was just this tiny little problem. I didn't want to be a surgeon, as simple as that. Thinking about cutting people open has never got me excited, whereas imagining myself in the courtroom has.
When I told my mother what I had decided she was obviously disappointed but she only said I wasn't cut out for surgery, anyway. She said that I was a lamb and a surgeon has to be a lion.
Well, only people who don't really know me could say I'm a lamb. And my mother… is one of these people. In fact, I am a lion. I have to be a lion to fight for my clients. But right now, when you look at me like that… I do feel like a lamb, a lost one… I'm getting cheesy, you know? I'm getting cheesy, because I thought I'm like a lamb without a… shepherd… funny isn't it? You asked me who I really was and that's my answer, that's my answer…
Why did I take the damn case? I guess I inherited something from my mother, the need to save lives. You are a surgeon, you understand, don't you? Would you put down the scalpel if he was on your table?
I just don't know; I don't know if I can do what you're asking me to do. You have to understand me, I don't know. Sometimes, I wish I had never taken that case because it's painful, this... thing between us, it's tearing me apart… Then again, I wouldn't have met you… and I stop regretting…
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Derek Shepherd rose impatiently from the plastic chair and began pacing up and down the hospital corridor. He made a few uncoordinated steps to fall heavily back on the chair. Several minutes later, the ritual started again.
Today, this fatal evening, he wasn't the doctor; he wasn't the head of neurosurgical department at Seattle Grace Hospital. Today, he was the patient or even worse, the patient's family, as he got away only with a tiny scratch. He wasn't at the main scene of the horror that played out in his father's store.
Derek hated feeling this helpless and ridiculously inept. He was a surgeon, for God's sake. Only today, the universe reversed and he was the one waiting in fear for the doctors with the news about his father, Michael Shepherd, currently in surgery due to shot wounds.
"He will pull through this," said Mark Sloan, Derek's best friend, clutching the side of his chair so hard that his knuckles went white.
Derek nodded vehemently. He couldn't imagine other outcome. He was glad he didn't have to do the waiting part alone. Mark was like his brother and Michael always regarded him as his sixth child, second son. Their colleagues were hanging close to keep them company.
"Derek," he heard his mother worried voice. He saw her rushing towards him surrounded by his four sisters and two of their husbands. The other two probably stayed at the Shepherd household watching over the children. It was Thanksgiving, one of the occasions that required the entire family in one place, Carolyn and Michael's house.
"Derek," his mother grabbed frantically his arms. "What happened? We were laying the table, waiting for you and someone from hospital called us." She spotted a small cut on his forehead. "Are you all right, sweetie? Where's dad?"
Derek was supposed to help his father close the store so they weren't late for the family dinner. They never made it home.
"What's going on, Der?" asked his sister Nancy.
"I… Mom, I'm ok," he assured her. "But dad…" the words barely made their way through his throat. "He's…"
"Just tell us what's happened?" urged Kathleen, another sister.
"I…" he kept his voice steady. "I was… packing some boxes in the car, dad was just serving the last customers and I…" he made several deep breaths, "and then I heard… these noises and… and… screaming…"
"What does that mean?" asked Nancy.
"I hurried inside, I ran into… this man," an awful face appeared again in his mind's eye. He knocked me to the ground but I got up and inside the shop and… and…" his voice broke down. "Dad, he was… lying there, at the floor… there was… blood…. Everywhere…"
"Derek," Carolyn whispered with a sinking feeling in her stomach. "What- what are you trying to say?"
Derek couldn't utter a word. It was so… surreal and improbable.
"Dad has been shot," explained Mark with a hollow voice. "He's got shot two times. One of the bullets hit him in the abdomen, the other went… through his neck."
His statement was followed by several gasps. All the blood from Carolyn's face drained making it ghostly white. "Where is he? Where's my husband?"
"Mon," Derek hugged her tightly and rubbed her back reassuringly. "He's… They're… He's been rushed into surgery."
"Will he be ok?" asked weakly Alice, the youngest of the sisters.
"We… we need to wait," answered Mark. "We have the best surgeons operating on him. We… we just have to wait."
And so they waited mostly in silence. The surgery seemed to drag on and on.
After what seemed like an eternity, Derek saw Richard Webber striding towards them one look at his boss's face was enough, not just for Derek. Mark and his four sisters were all doctors, his mother was a nurse. They all knew that somber look and heavy gait. They didn't belong to a surgeon who just performed a successful procedure.
"Derek, Mark," sighed Richard. "Carolyn, I'm so sorry. We did everything we could…"
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"You need to have some fun, Mer," said Izzie Stevens to her friend and colleague. "Life is not just about work."
"I know it's not just about work!" Meredith Grey rolled her eyes. "I do have fun and I'm happy with my life."
"But we aren't," sighed dark-haired Cristina Yang. "You don't even get laid anymore. It's bad. Seriously, I'm ambitious but you're pushing all the limits."
Meredith fumed inside. True, she had worked on several time-consuming cases recently. So what? She was still pretty much at the beginning of her career path as a lawyer and she needed to make an extra-effort to build renown for her name.
"I hope the meeting's starting fast," muttered Mer.
"You see!" squeaked Izzie. "You're a workaholic. You've reached the stage of addiction."
Meredith truly wasn't a workaholic. It was just that there wasn't anything else to fill her days with. Work constituted the steady element in her life. Everything else sucked, her so-called family, her relationships… Her friends didn't if they weren't overbearing.
"Morning everyone," their boss, Adam Mitchell finally entered the conference room. He had been awaited by his team of 20 lawyers who just like every morning were to be assigned new cases.
"Firstly," he said, "we've received a fax from the agency. They need a defender."
Few people raised their hands. The public defender's job meant a lot of work and little gain.
"Wait till I explain," warned them Mitchell. "Not an easy case. They have a problem finding someone to undertake it. You heard about William Dunn?"
"Yesterday's shooting?" asked Cristina.
"Exactly."
Meredith raked her memory to recollect what she had heard about the case. It was the topic number one on the news. The man called William Dunn entered a store in the suburbs the previous day, took out a gun and started shooting. He killed two people – the shopkeeper and a customer.
The tragedy shocked the public opinion and everything indicated that the prosecution would go for the most severe punishment, the capital sentence.
"Any volunteers?" asked Mitchell halfheartedly. He didn't want his people on this case; it was a dead-end street. He would just call the agency that his firm couldn't take care of it. The prosecution had an easy job; William Dunn was as good as dead.
Meredith Grey felt her heart rate rising. It was a crazy idea that had just crossed her mind. Every law firm had been dumping the case and the man should have got legal assistance hours ago. He was being dumped like a piece of trash. He was a criminal, a murderer of innocent people but Meredith couldn't help feeling… pity. Everyone had already assumed him sentenced and it seemed inhumane. She really shouldn't do that. It could slow down her career. Nevertheless, her hand shot up in the air with a shiver of excitement.
"I… I'll take it," she said as every pair of eyes in the room stared at her curiously.
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"Grey," Mitchell called after Meredith while the employees of the Mitchell & Sons law firm were filing through the door of the conference room. "Can you stay behind? I need to have a word with you."
Meredith crossed her arms and waited near the long table. Her boss was extremely reluctant to give her the case and probably wanted to discourage her.
The older man finally ordered his papers, leaned back in his chair and stared fixedly at her.
Meredith rolled her eyes. "Don't try that courtroom look on me, boss."
He sighed. "Meredith, what are you doing?"
She didn't answer, trying to form what would sound as a reasonable explanation.
"You're an excellent lawyer, I can see a great future for you," Mitchell said firmly. "And that case might break you down."
"Are you the jury?" asked stubbornly Meredith.
"Right now I'm not even talking about winning or losing the case," he assured seriously. "You have now idea how pressuring it will be. You'll be an emotional wreck long before the trial comes to an end."
"Have you ever heard of the fight or flight response?" she inquired. "It basically means that in case of danger the organism either fights it back or escapes. I never escape. And I'm not going to change my mind about taking the case."
Mitchell burst out laughing, "You can count on me if you need any help, any help; whether it's advice or just talking."
Meredith smiled at him gratefully, "Thank you."
"Oh, and take one of the freshmen to assist you, maybe O'Malley."
Meredith nodded and left the conference room. Her heart was pounding out of her chest but she was nowhere close to realize how much the case would change her life, for ever.
