Chapter 26 Comfort? Bedtime stories and kisses.

“How does it feel to control life and death, baby?” Emily said. “You chose to be a doctor because doctors can control the life and death of patients, right? Saving people gives you a false sense of control over life… Ellen, Mom knows you, you’re a monster without humanity.”

Allen remained silent, his cold gaze fixed on Emily, as if the woman before him had no effect whatsoever on him.

“Don’t look at Mommy like that, it will make Mommy sad,” she said. “Oh dear, you have no idea what sadness feels like, after all, you’ve made me sad countless times. My dear Ellen, do you remember the first time you picked up a knife to eat? You cut Mommy’s hand just out of curiosity, and you…”

Treatment room number 5 was just a small cubicle, barely big enough for a hospital bed and some basic medical equipment, and less than three meters long. Allen took two steps closer to Emily, looking down at her: "You're not Emily. If you speak with that face again, I'll tear your face off."

Emily smiled nonchalantly at Ellen: "Oh, what a good boy you are. So, would you like to give Mommy a hug?"

Sometime later, Allen obtained the defibrillator electrodes. He gave 'Emily' a cold smile, and then without hesitation, pressed the energized electrodes onto 'Emily's' heart.

Next came the scalpel; the sharp blade pierced Emily's eye, and without the slightest hesitation, Allen made a vicious downward slash.

Emily's face suddenly shattered into pieces right before Allen's eyes, blood gushing from the cracks in her pale skin, followed by fragments of internal organs. She remained standing, a gurgling laugh emanating from her half-open mouth.

The fragments of internal organs suddenly transformed back into the shape of a 'squid,' its evil eyes filled with chilling malice. Allen felt no fear; without hesitation, he charged the electrode pads to 400 joules again and pressed them against the 'squid's' face.

The screaming 'squid' transformed into Officer Leo, who clutched his heart, a twisted and eerie smile appearing on his pale face.

Allen stepped back to touch the defibrillator's charging button, but accidentally knocked over the surgical tray. The surgical forceps and scalpels clattered to the ground, jolting Allen back to his senses.

Everything around was normal; there was no 'Emily,' no 'Officer Leo,' and no horrific scene of blood and gore resembling a dismembered body.

Only Maggie, who had just opened the door, was looking at him with a worried expression.

The woman's body lay quietly on the bed, the defibrillator's electrodes still in their original positions.

It all seemed like an illusion.

"...Dr. Osborn, the patient's family has arrived."

Allen was momentarily stunned before realizing who Maggie's family member was. The man with the extensive burns had just been pronounced dead, and with the woman who had died in treatment room number 5, many family members would be coming to claim bodies today.

“Dr. Osborne…” Maggie hesitated, her gaze falling with a hint of pity on the woman who had died on the hospital bed. “Daniel found this lady’s wallet among the items left at the scene of the car accident… She is Mrs. Pedro, the wife of that gentleman just now.”

"...Who did you say?" Allen felt a sharp pain in his forehead, and his mind went blank for a moment.

He pressed his temples, feeling his thoughts becoming more confused than before.

"It's the burned man, he's Mr. Pedro. He's this lady's husband."

As Allen listened to the words coming out of Maggie's mouth, it took him a while to understand—

Mr. and Mrs. Pedro—one suffered extensive burns in the recent car accident, and the other died before Alan entered the emergency room. So their youngest son, who died at West Charity Hospital… wasn't he James Pedro, the man Alan was planning to investigate?

Is it really such a coincidence? Of the family of four, only Alex Pedro, Dick's former colleague who was paralyzed in the last accident, is now on his way to the hospital. How is he going to get there?

Allen reached out and grabbed the bed railing to keep from falling to the ground. Maggie saw Allen's pale face and immediately stepped forward to support him with concern: "Are you alright, Dr. Osborn? My God, are you low blood sugar? How long has it been since you ate?"

It wasn't low blood sugar, of course. Looking at his uncontrollably trembling hands, Allen realized he had probably finally met his destined fate. The hereditary disease of the Osborn family had finally befallen him.

Allen managed to stand up straight and nodded to Maggie: "I'm not feeling well, I'm going to rest for a bit."

Maggie watched Allen's retreating figure as he headed towards the lounge with concern, unsure of what to do. After a moment's thought, she turned to find the all-powerful old butler, Bernard.

When she turned around, she saw Dr. Andy Miller standing in the shadows in the corner, having been there for who knows how long.

She was startled, thinking that Dr. Miller had been acting increasingly strangely lately.

Andy Miller walked into the room and patted Maggie on the shoulder to reassure her: "I'll go check on Allen. He's fine. He's worked two night shifts in a row, so he must be exhausted. You need to rest too. Go ahead, Maggie."

Maggie stared into Dr. Miller's eyes, yawned absentmindedly, and quickly forgot the thought that had just crossed her mind.

She patted her head: "...You're right, Dr. Miller, I need to rest for a while too. Otherwise, you'll have to stay here and try to save me later."

Andy Miller smiled at Maggie: "Oh, I don't like seeing my colleagues in hospital beds. Go get some rest. Ms. Goodman said this emergency is coming to an end, and we need to take care of ourselves. After all... life is the most important thing, isn't it?"

**

The break room for regular resident doctors in the emergency department is shared, and Allen doesn't have his own office yet. He forced his way into the common break room with its rows of bunk beds, and without thinking, threw himself onto a lower bunk.

The smell of disinfectant gradually became clear in Allen's nostrils, and only then did he feel that his five senses had finally returned.

He buried his face in the blanket.

Only now did he have time to think about the trailer that drove away in the blizzard and the people on it. And once a person begins to think, the thoughts in their mind are like surging waves, impossible to stop.

On the one hand, based on his understanding of the skills of ordinary police officers, it was impossible for Dick to escape from the explosion; on the other hand, he couldn't help but hope for a miracle.

As the thought crossed his mind, Allen couldn't help but laugh at himself. He had never prayed to God, and it was probably too late to expect a miracle now. So one must learn to accept reality; death will come fairly to every human being, sooner or later, so everything experienced in between is meaningless.

In this world, magic and technology may offer countless strategies to help people escape the clutches of death, but what good is a temporary escape? What can one gain by prolonging life for a few more years? Allen felt that things were fine as they were. People should accept their predetermined fate. Pursuing things that don't exist, like Lex Luthor, would ultimately lead to nothing.

Nothing happened, no one came, no one left—it was terrifying.

Allen stared at the upper bunk bed.

"...Waiting for Godot? How about changing it to 'Everything is happening, there is always hope, there is always a new beginning'?"

Allen suddenly opened his eyes.

A familiar figure stood by the bed; he was tall and slender, with a graceful and relaxed demeanor.

He bent down to look at Allen, his bright blue eyes seemingly filled with gentle moonlight.

Golden rays of light streamed through the gaps in the tightly closed curtains, and Allen saw tiny specks of dust floating within them. The Tyndall effect, Freud, the Bible, Satan, and God all flashed through his mind, intensifying his headache.

He reached out and grabbed the man's arm with all his might, then asked a question he had already asked once earlier that day: "...Are you a hallucination or are you real?"

When he asked that question before, he hoped the answer would be the former; now he couldn't help but pray to God that the answer would be the latter, even though he didn't believe in God.

Dick sat down on the edge of the bed, following Allen's lead. The old metal bed in the hospital creaked and groaned under the weight of the two adult men.

He reached out and gently touched the dark circles under Allen's eyes, then jokingly asked, "Hmm... good question, what do you think?"

Allen grabbed his wrist.

But he only felt a cold, icy touch, and he knew the answer in his heart—Dick was indeed dead, and what remained was his spirit.

Dick felt as if a huge block of ice was hanging on his wrist—Alan's hands were incredibly cold.

He couldn't help but touch Allen's forehead with his other hand out of concern, only to find it burning hot.

"My God, your body temperature is definitely over 100 degrees Fahrenheit!"

Dick immediately dropped his relaxed expression and hurriedly stood up, wanting to find a doctor to take Alan to see.

But Allen refused to let go.

Dick didn't dare to struggle too much. He looked into Allen's eyes and sensed that they were full of grievances.

Nightwing's heart melted into a pool of water.

He sat down again, tenderly stroking Allen's hair, and gently comforted him, "Don't be afraid. You're sick now. I'll get Dr. Miller to give you an injection, and then I'll get you some ice packs to cool you down, okay? Do you want to eat something? I'll make you some easy-to-digest soup, okay? What do you want to eat? Except potatoes, right..."

He spoke softly and gently to Allen, as if comforting a child.

As a result, Allen gripped his hand even tighter.

He kept a straight face, pursed his lips, and remained silent despite his face being flushed red.

Dick continued to reassure him, "Alright, alright, Matthew is on his way too, he'll be there soon. Would you like to see Matthew? I've already taken Harry back, don't worry, he should be resting now. Bernard refuses to leave, insisting on staying at the hospital to help out. Good heavens, Mr. Hausman is really energetic."

Allen condescended to snort through his nostrils.

Dick was completely helpless against Allen, who just stared at him without saying a word.

Finally, he lowered his head and gently kissed Allen on the lips: "Why don't you take a nap? I'll stay here with you. Do you want me to tell you the story of 'The Little Mermaid'?"

Allen's eyes widened suddenly.

After a long pause, he snorted, "I want to listen to Corpse Bride and Coraline."