Chapter 33 Escape? Give up.

As the smell of disinfectant filled the apartment again, Allen sat by the window, idly stacking pillboxes. His trembling fingertips brushed over the white pills wrapped in aluminum foil, his eyes staring blankly at the sunlight reflected off the foil.

Painkillers, muscle relaxants, antidepressants—Alan smiled ironically, feeling as if the last three months of his life had been sliced ​​into unpalatable pills.

His gaze fell on the fruit knife on the table, and he seemed undecided.

In addition to physical ailments, he now suffers from nightmares during his sleep. A huge and bizarre alien life form freely enters and exits each of his dreams, attempting to instill in him an "advanced concept" of "optimizing human genes and evolving humanity."

Allen was extremely annoyed.

The sound of running water came from the bathroom. Dick was adjusting the water temperature for him again, because he had now become a useless person who couldn't even take a shower on his own.

Allen's face darkened; the monster's words echoed in his mind again:

"Don't you want to live? If you agree to my request, we can live together!"

"How are you feeling today?" Dick came out wrapped in a bath towel, water droplets from his hair dripping onto his collarbone.

As he bent over, Allen smelled the minty scent mixed with wound ointment. Dick had probably gotten into another fight with some street thug or gangster today, and was injured.

Allen lowered his eyes and remained silent.

Dick continued, "I'll take you for your follow-up appointment this afternoon; we have a neurosurgery appointment today..."

"I'm not your charity project, I suggest you stay away from me." Alan irritably pushed over the high stack of pill boxes, and a few unruly pills rolled to the bottom of the sofa.

Dick's movements and the smile on his face froze instantly.

This reminded Alan of when they first met, when Dick always reminded him of fluffy puppies, robins, and everything pleasant. But now, Dick had to be careful around him, taking care of both his physical and emotional well-being.

Allen closed his eyes, trying to calm himself. Although he had prepared himself for death, he still couldn't help but feel panicked when the moment actually arrived.

Only now did he understand Norman Osborn's fear: the feeling of prolonged emptiness when everything around you is about to disappear. Watching the countdown slowly tick away, the instinct for survival began to surface. Even with Allen's composure and rationality, at this moment he was beginning to lose control of his emotions.

He had a huge argument with Matthew and Harry these past two days because he insisted on moving out of the hospital and refused to step back in.

Dick looked at Allen sitting on the bay window, reached out and grasped the other's cold fingers: "Okay, okay... let's not talk about this now. Ms. Goodman just called to tell me there's a medical seminar tomorrow at the ER in Brudhaven, you want to..."

“I don’t want to.” Allen said coldly, his voice calm. “Has the police station been quiet lately? I suggest you go and lower the crime rate in Brudhaven instead of wasting your time on someone like me who’s going to die.”

“…There will be a way,” Dick said with a smile after a full 10 seconds of silence. “It’s just a genetic disease…The team of experts is waiting for you at Brudhaven Hospital. Someone will be able to cure you.”

“I guess you’ve already seen what Norman Osborn looks like.” Allen mercilessly exposed Dick’s lie. “He can’t even speak anymore, can he?” The process of retrograde proliferation is irreversible. Even with Kryptonians, Reachers, serums with wondrous functions, and all sorts of magic on this earth, there are still some problems that cannot be solved.

And Allen doesn't want to solve the problem right now.

Norman Osborn's fate was a serious consequence that Allen had warned Harry about. The potion he developed would only temporarily unleash Norman Osborn's potential, but would ultimately deplete his body. Following the progression of the illness, Norman Osborn, after a brief period of triumph, was now beyond saving.

He received several calls from the old Osborne house in the past two days, but he didn't answer any of them and blocked all the numbers.

Rain suddenly began to fall from the sky, and dark clouds obscured the once clear sky. As the raindrops pounded on the French windows, Harry suddenly pushed open the door and walked in.

The boy was carrying a refrigerated box full of syringes; his black suit was a little wrinkled.

“You still have a fever, you should go back to bed.” He tossed the electronic thermometer onto the coffee table, its metal casing clanging against the marble surface. “And you, Dick Grayson, get back to cooking porridge, stop dawdling here!”

Alan immediately shut his mouth, turned to look out the window, and resolutely refused to meet his brother's angry gaze. For the past two days, whenever he brought up topics related to his impending death, Harry would immediately give him a good scolding.

Allen wanted to say that the brat was going against the Heavenly Gang, but he would immediately be glared at by Harry.

Allen felt a little guilty.

Harry rummaged through the kitchen for honey, intending to pour his disobedient brother a glass of water before figuring out how to coax him back to New York.

Dick smiled and kissed Allen, as if the argument had never happened. He winked playfully at Allen and said, "There's a fireworks show at Levin Square tonight. Shall we go see it together?" With that, he walked briskly into the kitchen.

Harry was still rummaging through the cupboard, and the boy's back reminded Allen of Emily's funeral, when Harry had also been silent like this.

Alan suddenly realized that if he also left this world, Harry would have no family left.

"In short, I'm still firmly against the two of you being together," Harry muttered, the glass jar clattering against the counter. "Call me when you watch the fireworks, and don't sneak out with him, understand?" He ripped open a cereal bag with a swish, his teeth clenched as if he were tearing Dick's head open.

Allen responded with a low voice.

**

"So that's why you've been sneaking around here drinking all by yourself?" Dr. Edward turned to look at Allen sitting next to him. "You stood up Officer Grayson!"

This is the lakeside bar, a favorite place for doctors in the ER of Brudhaven to relax. They usually come here to get together after get off work, but Allen never attends these gatherings.

So when Allen appeared here today, it startled Dr. Edward, who had come here to relax.

He hesitated, wanting to stop Allen from continuing to force himself to drink, but Allen wouldn't listen to him at all.

“I went to Ms. Goodman and asked her to at least give me something to do, but she refused,” Allen said. “Andy Miller said he would only consider going to the operating table once my hands stopped shaking. He’s right. I originally thought I would have a chance to learn from David Peterson for a while, but now it seems that’s not going to happen.”

Is this the most important thing? Edward rubbed his forehead, suddenly realizing that Allen's focus was always a bit off.

“I thought you should be worried about your life, not your career,” Dr. Edward glanced at Allen’s face and continued, “With my Hawaiian’s natural sensitivity, I’m pretty sure you actually have a way to heal yourself, but you just don’t want to do it.”

Allen: ...

For the first time, he looked at this ordinary Hawaiian with a serious gaze. "...You Hawaiians also have magic?"

Dr. Edward winked at him mysteriously: "Didn't you know that we had a death treatment room in our emergency department? It was Ms. Goodman who sent me to handle it."

Allen was certainly aware of the death treatment room. Although most doctors believed in science, they could occasionally be superstitious. For example, if three people died in a particular treatment room within a month, that room would be considered off-limits to doctors, and they would never push their patients into it if there was a spare room available.

Ms. Goodman was troubled by this for a long time because the doctors preferred to treat patients in the corridor rather than use the treatment room.

"So how did you handle it?" Allen asked curiously.

Dr. Edward then recounted in a mysterious tone how he had used his unique Hawaiian talent to sense the aura of death in the room and then gradually purified the ominous presence.

Allen was silent for a moment before finally speaking, "...I have an acquaintance I can introduce you to. I'm sure you two will have a lot in common."

Ms. Goodman's initial conclusion was entirely correct. Their Brudhaven Emergency Department was full of talented people, and each of them was suitable to be sent out to shine in other fields. He believed that if Dr. Edward were willing to become a medium or a sorcerer, he would definitely receive more work than Constantine.

Edward pressed Allen with interest, asking when he would make new friends. Allen rolled his eyes and took a big gulp of wine.

The liquor reflected strange colors under the dim lights of the bar, and Allen stared at the light in a daze, lost in thought.

Dick finally breathed a sigh of relief when he rushed into the bar, panting, and saw that Allen was unharmed.

“You scared me.” Dick couldn’t help but squeeze through the crowd and hug Alan tightly.

He was genuinely afraid that Allen would take the opportunity to end his own life when he wasn't looking. He knew that Allen was capable of doing such a thing, because Dr. Osborn would never allow himself to be paralyzed in bed like a useless piece of trash.

Dr. Edward looked at Alan in Dick's arms and couldn't help but sigh. "Think about it carefully. Is there really nothing in this world that you would cherish? You have the courage to face death, so why not try one more time for the person you love?"

Alan was held tightly in Dick's arms. He was sitting on a chair near the bar, and Dick was standing beside him, so the embrace allowed him to hear Dick's rapid heartbeat very clearly.

His hand holding the glass trembled again, causing ripples to spread in the wine. Allen saw a clear blue in it, like Dick's eyes.

“Harry’s waiting for us in the car,” Dick said. “Let’s go home!”

Allen downed the rest of his drink in one gulp, then stood up with Dick's help. He said to Dick, "Come with me somewhere."