Chapter 81: Tumor on the Wall

"Dr. Shepherd!" her low disappointed voice rang in his ears. The game was up, it was over. He spent half a day in the OR not making a single cut. Now, Meredith was here. Given the fact he didn't even start the procedure beside opening up the patient, he would have no choice but to let go.

"Dr. Shepherd!" she addressed him more insistently. She wasn't yelling, probably for the sake of the patient. He froze, almost afraid to think what was going to happen next.

"Am I to understand that you cancelled your surgeries to operate on a spinal cord tumor?" she demanded curtly. "Dr. Shepherd!"

At his complete unresponsiveness, she put the mask fully and moved up to where he stood behind the table.

"For the rate of infection for this patient," she went on quietly, her voice strictly professional, anger well in check, "is increasing every second you keep him open. Not to mention the financial losses for your standing here doing nothing. So, I am demanding that you close this man up. Close him up and relinquish the OR. Right now, Derek." She demanded with a steely voice.

The fact that she used his first name seemed to break him from his stupor. "Okay," he whispered and glanced at the resident across the table. "That's it. Let's close him up."

Meredith sighed heavily and reached to stop the clock indicating the time that passed since the beginning of the procedure.

"I want to see you in my office after my procedure, Dr. Shepherd," she admonished without a second glance in his direction before she left the OR.

Three hours later, all the confusion and indecisiveness that enveloped his brain was gone. As he waited for her outside her office, he only hoped Meredith wouldn't throw a fit and listen calmly to what he had to say. Despite feeling slightly apprehensive towards their confrontation, he waited with impatience for the end of her procedure. His friends' drabble was getting on his nerves. Surely, he could easily make himself comfortable in her office in the meantime. He often did when they were to meet for lunch or for, well, sex.

This time, however, he wasn't here fulfilling the role of her boyfriend. He was here for strictly professional reasons, reasons that any employee would like to avoid. He had been reckless, he got into this mess head-on.

"Don't want to come up with an "I told you so" line, but I told you so," ranted Mark for the hundredth time, making Derek roll his eyes. Sometimes, he wondered if his friends and colleagues had a life, they seemed to live vicariously through him and Meredith.

"We can back you up," assured him Izzie. "You just wanted to save the life of one of our own."

"It's not like she's going to fire him," shrugged Cristina. "It was his call. He had a right-"

"No, I didn't," Derek denied quickly fearing his misbehavior could prove more pernicious than he thought, especially in regards to Meredith's authority.

"He was your patient," argued Cristina. "It was up to you to choose what was the best option."

"What happened to your believing in the surgery?" piped Mark.

"I did believe," nodded Derek. I would still have liked to give it a try even if I had known I was going to stand and stare at that spine for hours. I made mistake," he admitted tiredly. "I should have never gone with it without her knowledge because, even though we were at difference of opinions, she's the Chief. We chose her to be the ultimate authority in this hospital. We had the choice, no one forced us, certainly not Meredith. And now we have to accept it and all her decisions or, well, she's not going to sit and watch."

"Finally a voice of reason in this madhouse," remarked Bailey as she halted beside them curiously. "For the future, I advise conversation. You'd be surprised how far it could get you."

"Seriously! What is this?" Meredith just appeared on the scene; her forehead creased with a frown as her eyes swept over the little group of surgeons. "A funeral procession? He's not going to the scaffold! Don't you have a home to go to?" she shook her head irritably and walk into her office. "Dr. Shepherd!" she ushered him in leaving the door open.

"That's a good sign, she's joking. You're going to live," chuckled Mark. "Maybe you'll even get spanked."

"I heard that!" Meredith's shriek reached them from the confines of the room.

"What was that Derek?" she fired at him from behind her desk as soon as he closed the door. "Care to explain to me? sit down," she asked him, seeing as he was going to stand before her like a naughty little boy caught red-handed.

"That was… me confusing the boundaries between our private life and work relationship," he confessed looking her straight in the eye as he took one of the chairs in front of the desk.

"What?" That wasn't the answer she expected. She was prepared to listen to arguments that all he had on his mind was the patient's wellbeing, that the surgery was the only way to save his life…

"You know what Isaac told me today?" took Derek slowly. "That he knew I could do the surgery, that I was inspired. I thought about it again after I closed him up. And I truly was inspired. By you."

"By… me?" she uttered hesitantly.

"When you came here and I realized I lost the race for the office… I had no direction in my life. I didn't know what was next for me, what was supposed to be next for me," he went on.

"I'm sorry-" she started.

"Don't be," he chuckled. "You came along, and we started this thing, and you gave me a different kind of inspiration. As the most important person in my life, you inspire me to try to be a better man. You inspire me as a doctor as well, as a chief. When it comes to patient care, you're fearless. You never back down before a challenge when you can save your patient. That's why I was convinced that tumor could be treated, to the point where I disregarded your orders. That's where I got confused. Because you inspire me at all levels. I should have known that… that performing an unauthorized surgery isn't the same as sneaking a packet of muesli into the house behind your back," he gave her a small smile.

All the time, she listened to him intently with growing surprise. "I… don't know what to say…"

"You don't have to say anything," he assured her. "That was my mistake, I won't do it again."

She nodded slowly, suddenly very pensive.

"So, I'm going to change, and we meet by the elevators as usual?" he stood up and walked around the desk to plant a brief kiss on her lips.

"Huh, sure," she replied quickly leaning forward to meet his mouth.

"See you in a bit," he smiled and left her alone.

Her mouth opened involuntarily as soon as he walked out as though she wanted to continue the conversation. Having given Derek's confession a second thought, she guiltily felt he wasn't the only one at fault. Certainly not the only one to confuse boundaries either.

Meredith crept silently to the kitchen and halted to lean against the doorframe, watching Derek busy himself around the stove. Lost in her musings, she bit her lower lip absentmindedly and soundlessly tapped the wooden frame with her fingertips. They were good, just as good as they had been in the morning. Derek going rampage in the OR didn't become an elephant in the room. Derek was fine with it, and except the ongoing concern about Isaac, he put the whole affair behind them. Whereas Meredith… did not.

The longer her thoughts lingered on Derek's words, the more she was sure she didn't act like a Chief should. She wasn't fair to Derek, but that could be easily repaired. They were long past the point where a minor difference of opinions could produce serious complications for their relationship. What was worse was that due to her incompetence she could prevent a man getting the treatment he deserved. She didn't feel at all she was a good influence on Derek today, not as his girlfriend, not as his boss.

Her eyes were fixed on him as he stirred the gravy, his hips clad in dark jeans rotated slightly. She gulped; her sexual libido was really distracting at points. She shook her head to brush off the dirty thoughts and called his name, "Der?"

He flinched in surprise and let the spoon slip from his fingers. "Meredith, you scared me!"

She giggled lightly and pushed herself off the wall. She handed him a wipe as he fished out the sunken spoon.

"Thanks," he chuckled and leaned forward for a small kiss.

"Tastes good," she purred feeling the traces of the gravy he must have tried beforehand.

"Of course, I do," he smirked.

"I meant the gravy," she teased him. "But you certainly add to the flavor."

He smiled giving her another kiss and went back to cooking before their dinner had a chance to burn down.

"So," started Meredith picking up a glass of wine from the counter. "I am… honored…"

"Honored?" he threw her a quick questioning glance over his shoulder.

"I am… truly honored to be your inspiration," she breathed out.

He looked at her again with a small frown but seeing she was completely serious, his face lit up with a smile.

"But!" she raised her hand to stop him from interrupting her. "I need to apologize too. I wasn't a good chief today. Trying to be a good girlfriend maybe, but not a chief. And, the truth is, I… I confused the boundaries as well."

He reduced the fire under the pot to let the contents simmer gently and he turned fully to face her, leaning back against the cupboard, his arms upon his chest and his eyes studying her curiously.

"And before anything, I need you to know that I think you're an amazing doctor," she hurried with her assurance which only made Derek's eyebrow ride higher. "Not that you don't know that you obviously do…"

"I do know that" he frowned.

"Good," she nodded eagerly. "I know that too. Just so you know that I know."

"Okay," he acknowledged skeptically. "Your point is?"

"My point is…"she took a deep breath, "that I was completely unprofessional and out of line today. You came to me-"

"You told me not to operate on an inoperable tumor," he finished patiently. "Mer, I don't have any issues about it. It's only reasonable."

"No, the problem is that I would go with the operation without any hesitancy," she argued.

"You'd like to operate?" he asked disbelievingly.

"No, Derek! I don't want to steal your surgery!" she huffed indignantly, her cheeks turning red. "I wanted to protect you!"

"Protect me from what?" he was genuinely puzzled.

"It's a high-risk surgery," she muttered tracing patterns on the counter. "There's a greater chance of failure than success."

"You thought I'd fail?" he demanded though his voice wasn't angry or hurt, maybe somewhat amused.

"Not at all!" she denied immediately. "I told you I think you're a great doctor. It's just… it's a risky surgery. You care so much about your patients, sympathize with them. Isaac is not any patient, he's your colleague. I would hate to see you blame yourself if anything happened to him, and I don't imply you'd make a mistake or something…"

"Oh, Mer," he sighed gently and crossed the distance to put his arms tightly around her, planting a kiss at the top of her head. "Thank you."

"What the hell for?" she frowned fidgeting in his embrace. "I shattered your confidence, almost ruined that man's chances for treatment and… I told you I didn't know exactly how to handle this being a caring girlfriend thing!"

"I think you do," he murmured affectionately lightly swaying with her. "You were trying to protect me. Clearly Derek the boyfriend comes before Dr. Shepherd."

"I feel like we're developing double personalities," she muttered burying her face into his chest.

He chuckled at her words. "Don't worry too much, you made a mistake. Obviously, you were right. There's nothing we could do about it, it's inoperable."

"Maybe yes, maybe not," she threw lightly detaching herself from his warm hug and glancing around.

"What are you doing?"

"Trying to find out if the tumor's really inoperable," she scrunched her nose rummaging through the ugly decorative plate of her mother's where they kept odds and ends."

"There?" he chuckled. "Or maybe in the fridge? Did you look under the table?"

"Smartass," she sang. "You don't have the CT scan on you by any chance?"

"Isaac's scan? No."

"Okay, then tell me about the tumor," she asked him to stand beside the opposite side of the wall, the one which was simply painted and not covered with tiles. "Come on, Dr. Shepherd."

"It was more vascular than the M.R.I. showed," he sighed.

"But you were able to do the decompression?"

"Yes."

"But you weren't able to find a plane to dissect?"

"No plane, nothing," he shook his head cocking an eyebrow as he noticed her fistful of marker pens. "It was just… There was no path, nothing distinct."

"Well, why?" she smiled up at him.

"Because it was just… It…" he stammered powerlessly.

"You know, I have an idea," she grinned enthusiastically and before he could stop her, her hand drew a black sinus line clearly distinct on the background that was the lightly green wall.

"What are you doing?" he gasped following the black path like in a trance. "Now you've completely lost your mind."

"Shut up," she silenced him gently. "I'm inspiring you, I'm your muse."

"Mer?" he probed after a brief moment.

"What?" she asked dryly expecting him to protest.

"Muses are usually naked," he replied, deadpanned.

"Wow," she looked at him with fake awe. "Quite a talent, turning porny a conversation about a deadly tumor."

"What can I say? I've got great inspiration."

"The muse will get naked when we figure this out," she waved her hand at the drawing that now depicted a spine. "I can only go this far, your turn," she reached her hand offering the markers.

With an expression of utmost amusement, he took them and took a breath, his brain going in retrospect to every detail.

"Oh, watch out for our dinner," he threw carelessly, his mind already occupied with something else. He set to finish Meredith's picture muttering under his breath, "T-7. It goes all the way up to t-2. I didn't know what vessel was connected to the tumor or to the cord…"

"So, what I did was..." he raked his head absentmindedly. "Start here, the anterior spinal artery could rupture. The cord could die. Here, you risk catching the radicular artery under the tumor. The cord dies. I cannot expose the arteries… The draining veins are very thin. You slip up, they burst. He leaves my OR a quadriplegic. I might as well cut the cord…"

"Which you didn't do," reminded him soberly Meredith.

"Even if Isaac said I could…" he sighed, making a few steps back to studying his completed picture.

"You didn't cut the cord," she repeated. "Even if Isaac said you could. Even though you knew it would save his life."

"Well, he still has function in his legs," argued Derek.

"No, but what I mean is, you didn't cut the cord," Meredith stood beside him. "You stood in the OR for hours. You knew I would stop you. Anybody else would've, and you didn't. So, there must be a reason why."

She made no move no sound as he got lost in his own reeling mind. He paced here and there rubbing his chin with his hand.

"We shouldn't cut the cord," he said cautiously standing before her abruptly. "The mistake I made today was that I wanted a plan. There can be no plan. I just have to pick a point and cut. Isaac wants me to take the risk."

"You'll take the risk," she nodded.

"Will I?" he eyed her. "Do I have your approval?"

"You do, Dr. Shepherd," she said professionally but a smile played on her lips. "On one condition."

"What's the condition?"

"I've got to be your doctor," she answered seriously.

"My doctor?" he chuckled.

"You need somebody in the OR," she explained seriously, "who's gonna remind you to take breaks, to bend your legs, to drink water. You'll be my patient, essentially," she concluded with a smile.

"You want to be my doctor?" he asked again. "What about the hospital? You know how long it might take."

"What do I have George for?" she shrugged breezily.

"So, in the OR…" he began cheekily, cocking his head to the side. "You're going to be my doctor, chief or girlfriend?"

"Crap," she breathed out. "I told you I'm not good at handling this. It's just I can't suddenly forget you're the love of my life every time you wear a lab coat!"

"Don't," he pleaded quickly engaging her in a sensual sweet kiss. "Now, we get the surgery discussed, I believe my muse promised me some naked art?"

She looked at him smugly, "You have a long day ahead. Your muse's priority is to make sure you eat your dinner and to tuck you in bed."

She giggled at Derek's pout. "And then she can think about some nakedness… just to keep your inspiration," she added.

"Now we're talking," he rubbed his hands excitingly as he sat down observing Meredith fill their plates with the food that was now only semi-hot.

At the first look, one could perhaps argue that he and Meredith were completely unmatched but… he couldn't remember a moment when he felt more understood by, more compatible to another person. They were made for each other. That simple thought made his mind stop on the image of the ring he bought almost three months ago, the ring he might just put to use. He got burned once but why should he get discouraged? Meredith knew about his intentions and certainly wasn't freaked out. She cared for him in the big way interfering with her work. She was taking care of him.

Her fingers sank into his hair affectionately as she placed the plate before him. They would get to the point when he asked her questions and she said yes. Tonight, he was just going to enjoy some quality time with her and tomorrow, tomorrow they would try to take out the super tumor.

Since they left for work the next morning, it wasn't for almost forty hours when they made it back home. The surgery was a true marathon, and afterwards they waited for Isaac to wake up. However, the smiles never left their faces as the procedure turned out to be a success. They both felt it surpassed a solely medical experience.

Derek couldn't be more grateful to Meredith for insisting to be his doctor. She really helped him to advance through, took care of him, made him feel as though she had his back. She was with him through all thirty hours of the surgery, providing him with drinks, wiping his sweaty brow, preventing him from choking like the day before. She even made sure he had other people to talk to other than her. Mark, Miranda and Owen spent a fair amount of time in Derek's OR. She was gentle, sweet and helpful. She replaced his resident when he felt cramping in his hand. She convinced him it was his call to choose one of two vessels to dissect, the very last one. On the other hand, she could easily keep him in line if she felt he needed some discipline. Her eyes shot daggers when she snapped at him to drink some water.

For Meredith, it was without a doubt one of the most trying surgeries in her career, even if she wasn't the surgeon in charge and she barely touched the instruments. She was rooting for Derek, probably more than for the patient. She wanted him to succeed so badly. He deserved that, with all the talent, effort and heart he invested in this surgery. He was under unbelievable pressure all the time, every hour, every minute. After one critical moment, he was half decided to cut the cord to save Isaac's life; he doubled over once the immediate danger was gone and returned the contents of his stomach on the floor. But hours and hours later, it all paid off. They all held their breaths as Derek executed the last cut. To everyone's relief, his decision was the right one. The tumor was out, Isaac survived with his leg function intact. Meredith wouldn't be surprised if the next Harper Avery already bore Derek's name.

When they came back home together, they were high on adrenaline rush. They stumbled through the house throwing their coats and briefcases haphazardly, chuckling and giggling tiredly. Meredith grabbed a bottle of champagne from the fridge, and they hurried upstairs to their bedroom. As soon as he reached the bed, Derek sank down stretching himself with a contented sigh.

"You're tired, aren't you?" Meredith whispered tenderly as she leaned against the headboard beside him, running her fingers over his scalp.

"Mhm," he huffed nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck.

She balanced the champagne bottle in her hand and struggled slightly to open it up, they had an occasion to celebrate.

"You know, I'm so proud of you," she said quietly. "I guess now I have to agree that you're a genius," she giggled waiting for his cocky reply.

"Derek?" she scrunched her face and shifted to look at him. His head bobbed inertly on her shoulder. Poor thing, he completely wore himself out. She gingerly put the bottle down on the floor and reached out to turn off the night lamp. Their closeness was enough of a celebration. The soothing darkness shrouded their bodies as easy well-earned sleep claimed them.