Chapter 39: Prisoner at the Hospital?

Even before she had the chance to reach her office, Patricia caught up with her with a fax in her hands and a serious look on her face.

"Caldwell?" Meredith searched her mind as she read the header. "As in the prison?"

"Yeah," sighed her secretary.

Twenty minutes later she joined the team she chose for the case, Derek, Cristina, Owen and one of the best residents, Dr. Miller.

"You've read up on our V.I.P.?" she greeted them, throwing a searching look at Derek. Something was odd with him. The usual good-natured expression was replaced with a tensed frown. Unfortunately, there wasn't time to get to the bottom of his mood right now.

"Multiple stab wounds, badly beaten, he'll have guards with him at all times," she went on leading them into the trauma bay. "Cuffs stay on, leg irons stay on. Watch your syringes, sharps and pins. I don't want any accidents… and he's here," she pointed at the ambulance halting at the door.

"You four are my team. No interns. I want to keep this as quiet as possible," she ordered. "Get him in and out quickly, patch him up and get him on his way. Get him out of trauma as fast as you can. Those guards are going to attract a lot of attention."

"Uhm, Ma'am," asked the resident reviewing the fax. "It's stamped P.D.R. What is P.D.R.?"

Meredith signed the forms handed by one of the guards.

"Prisoner, death row," she answered walking away with the last worried look at Derek.

She was still able to catch the prisoner's creepy voice, "Hi, how's everybody doing this morning?"

As soon as Meredith was finished with the procedure she had scheduled for this morning, she decided to check the situation with the killer patient, William Dunn, and hopefully, have a minute alone with Derek.

She spotted him in the corridor, talking to Dr. Miller.

"Mr. Dunn is still in a huge amount of pain," said quickly the short woman in blue scrubs. "Can I give him more morphine, or will that cause problems with his neuro exams?"

"Mr. Dunn has had enough morphine," answered Derek folding his arms and Meredith was baffled at the tone of his voice. She hadn't heard that disgust and vindictiveness on his part even when they were at each other's throats five months ago.

Dr. Miller stood her ground, "Right, but he's got a foreign body lodged in his spine. It's inhumane."

"No," he shook his head. "Killing people is inhumane. Denying him painkillers is a judgment call."

"We don't know what he did," argued the resident. "We can't judge."

Meredith felt it was time to intervene.

"Dr. Miller, can you please let me have a word with Dr. Shepherd?"

The resident looked reluctant but nodded and left him alone, if they could be alone, standing in the middle of the corridor.

"Derek, what is going on?" she asked lowering her voice. "What's with that argument about morphine?"

"He doesn't need morphine," he said indignantly. "He doesn't get wishes."

"Look, you'll give him whatever he needs," ordered Meredith. "I don't want some lawyer throwing at us that we did not give him the standard of care."

"It doesn't bother you that this guy probably hacked a family of four to death with a machete?" Derek asked disbelievingly.

"Frankly, it's neither here nor there," she shrugged. "Dr. Miller was right, we can't judge. Not because we don't know what crime he committed. Because it's not our job to judge. We're not a jury. That man came here to be treated and the faster we do it, the better."

"I watch people die all the time," said Derek feverishly. "I go to families and I tell them their world has been ripped apart all the time. And I fight like a dog to make sure that I don't have to deliver that message, and I lose that fight all the time. Then some guy like Dunn comes along and simply throws it away, life?"

"You shouldn't be on this case," Meredith shook her head. "I'm taking you off, I'll take care of this myself."

Derek bit his lip and Meredith was again bewildered he didn't insist to follow the case.

"Always the chief, Mer," he remarked ironically.

"What?" she stared at him in shock. "What is wrong with you? Of course, I'm acting professionally. Someone has to, seeing you're taking it so personally."

"Right," he breathed and pushed past her brushing her arm roughly. "I'll find myself something to do, Chief."

"Derek!" she hissed calling him back, but he didn't listen.

William Dunn's case absorbed most of Meredith's attention that day. She and Owen operated on him, extracting from his back the sharp object that he was stabbed with. On top of that, it turned out that he had also a brain contusion and infuriatingly enough, he didn't give his agreement for a brain surgery. Meredith knew the swelling would expand until he'd go unconscious. She ordered Dr. Miller to monitor his condition overnight and she went in search for Derek. There was something bad going on with him. She needed to find him to fix the things between them. She woke up in his arms this morning and she wanted to fall asleep surrounded by him as well. The whole affair with Dunn and worrying about Derek made her even forget about her meeting with her father.

Why Derek got so emotionally invested with the prisoner patient was a mystery. True, it wasn't difficult to get overly attached to their patients, to commiserate with them, to feel compassion, but William Dunn's case was a completely different story. Why did Derek react so strongly?

She inspected the surgical board. Derek wasn't operating nor he had any procedures scheduled. Mark was walking down the corridor conversing with another doctor and she called after him, "Dr. Sloan."

"Excuse me," he left his interlocutor and joined her.

"Mark, do you know what's going on with Derek?" she asked with concern. "He's not himself today."

"Are the rumors about the serial killer true?" he answered with a question.

"Yes," she sighed. She had a feeling it wasn't just sheer curiosity on his part.

"You don't know?" he squinted at her.

"About what?"

"You don't," he breathed. "He has to tell you himself, it's not my place."

"Okay," she agreed cautiously. "Have you seen him?"

"He probably went to his place. You'll get him?"

"Yeah, I…" she trailed off understanding less and less.