Hypocrite

In front of him, they call him Chief. Behind the nursing station and the walls of the locker room, he is the Hypocrite with a capital H.

How could he not know this? He knows his behaviors are full of contradictions. That isn't news to him. Ellis Grey repeatedly accused him of that many years ago. But Richard Webber refuses to believe he is in fact a hypocrite. He wishes someone could understand how much he cares.

Naturally, he cares about his top-notched surgeons Preston Burke and Derek Shepherd because they are money-making machines. That said, he also cares about them more than as the Chief. He sees a bit of himself in both men—the workaholic who puts work in front of everything else in Preston, and the not-so-innocent victim of the Greys in Derek.

Grey. Pondering on this last name always makes him self-conscious. He cares about Meredith and Ellis Grey after all these years. On the very first night at the mixer when he saw the blonde intern, he knew he would take every measure to protect and mentor the girl, giving her what her mother did not get. Meredith is like his surrogate child in a sense, for Richard Webber was too obsessed with work that he never had a child of his own.

The thought of child-bearing is painful. It reminds him of how horrible a person he was. The day when he forced Preston to operate on Ellis Grey was the day Cristina lost her child. How sad it must have been to lose a child.

The irony is that Addison is also Richard's academic offspring. He was her mentor. She always listened to him. When he found out Derek was stuck between these two young women, Richard Webber had a hard time. Whether from the financial or moral point of view, there is no way for him to take side.

In the end, he did not completely dismiss the "scandal" between Meredith Grey and Derek Sheppard, yet he was there to pat Addison's shoulder as she went through a complete melt-down. Who said being the Chief is easy?

Being a husband is worse, however, because he is one of the worst husbands—emotionally uninvolved, yet being in complete denial of it. Now that Adele has finally made up her mind to leave him, he still isn't ready to acknowledge how their marriage ceased to exist a long time ago. Why does he even bother to ask her to wait when he does not really desire her?

Perhaps, behind this face of a hypocrite there hides a vulnerable creature, one who has done so many things that have removed him from feeling guilty, and yet can't quite figure out why every decision seems so wrong and disturbing.

He has good intentions when he tries to lighten the load of his favorite resident, but Miranda Bailey, as well as everyone else, sees that as a move by a patriarch who belittles the ability of a woman.

He sent all the kids away from the hospital when his beloved niece fell ill, not wanting the rhythm of the hospital and the welfare of other patients to be at stake.

He supported Derek's decision to bring Cristina into Preston's surgery room, thinking she would help him stay focused and facilitate the procedure.

Good intentions are not enough.

What hurt the most wasn't when he left Ellis Grey many years ago by the Merry-Go-Round, or when he saw her brought into the hospital senile and fragile, or even when Adele decides to give up.

What hurt the most was when Cristina Yang, the toughest and one of the most ambitious interns in years broke down in front of him, claiming how she wanted to be like him, begging to have her edge back. He wasn't sure if he liked how he was; he wasn't sure if he was half as human as his intern.

What hurt the most was when he had to send Callie Torres away from her little cave in the basement, when she blatantly pointed out that he too was living in the hospital, alone.

Did he envision becoming who he now has become when he first started out as an intern at Seattle Grace 30 years ago? What has he gained? What has he lost?

Maybe he really is nothing more than a hypocrite, but tonight, as he sits in his office alone, he can't help but wonder if things could have been different had he tried harder.