The deposition room at Brady, Vance, & Associates was a glass-walled aquarium of mahogany and high-stakes tension. Jack sat at the head of the table, looking every inch the predatory litigator, while the hospital's defense counsel hovered nervously with a digital recorder.
Christopher sat in the hot seat, his left shoulder still occasionally twinging under a bespoke navy blazer. He looked bored, his sarcastic shield polished to a mirror finish.
"Dr. Wright," the opposing counsel began, "on the day of the shooting, did you find the hospital's security protocols to be... negligent?"
Jack's eyes flickered to Christopher—a silent warning. If Christopher blamed Richard Webber, the Chief was finished. The hospital's insurance would liquidate his career.
"I found the human element to be unpredictable, counselor," Christopher drawled, his voice a clinical monotone. "Security protocols are mathematical abstractions. They don't account for a grieving man with a god complex and a concealed weapon. Chief Webber followed every JCAHO standard to the decimal point."
Jack's jaw tightened. He knew Christopher was lying for the legacy.
"But you were shot, Doctor. Surely you hold the administration accountable for your injury?"
"I hold Gary Clark accountable for the ballistics," Christopher snapped, his eyes hardening. "The Chief isn't a clairvoyant. He's a surgeon. To litigate against his leadership because of a sociopath's outburst is statistically absurd. Next question, please. I have a triple-bypass at 1400."
The deposition ended with the defense counsel looking triumphant and Jack looking murderous.
Once the room cleared, Jack slammed the file shut. "You just blew my case, Christopher. I had Webber on the ropes for the faulty lock system."
"You had the man who gave me my residency on the ropes, Jack," Christopher said, standing up and adjusting his cuffs. "I don't let family get sacrificed for a settlement check. Even the Wright Way has a code."
Jack sighed, his fury evaporating into begrudging respect. He pulled Christopher into a tight, one-armed hug. "You're a terrible witness, but you're a hell of a man."
"I'm efficient, Jack. Sentiment is expensive."
Christopher walked back to Grey Sloan, his heart hammering. He had saved Richard's legacy, but he knew the Alzheimer's trial was still a ticking bomb. He reached the surgical bridge and saw Meredith watching him, her eyes full of a question she was too afraid to ask.