Chapter 6 Who's Whose Best Friend? You mean the chainsaw cop? Well…
The Blue Haven police officer lying in a coma on the hospital bed is named Alex Pedro. He is a native of Blue Haven, whose parents are businessmen and his family is well-off. All his family members are still alive and well in the villa.
Alex Pedro himself is a hardworking, sunny, and cheerful young man. He was the first to rush in during tonight's raid on the Black Gang, and therefore is the most seriously injured among the survivors.
Allen stood in front of the hospital bed, staring silently at the lines and data on the various instruments.
"He'll be alright." Nightwing stood behind the doctor and patted Allen on the shoulder.
Allen frowned uncomfortably and took two steps to the side.
“If your eyes aren’t just for show, don’t ignore this data,” Allen said. “This is a hospital, not a temple. Prayer won’t work.”
Dick opened his mouth, then suddenly felt that the doctor deserved a comforting hug even more.
Based on his understanding of Dr. Osborne and their long-term relationship, he knew that the doctor could become particularly sharp-tongued when he was extremely agitated or extremely happy.
Allen had just started his internship at the hospital, and facing life and death directly might cause him psychological trauma. This was one of the first issues that interns needed to confront.
Medical school equips them with knowledge, but only the hospital allows them to connect that knowledge with reality. When this connection occurs, perhaps every doctor will ask themselves—
As a doctor, can I save all my patients?
Is it possible to save someone's wife, someone's husband, someone's child, or someone's parents?
Patients are not cold, lifeless case studies in textbooks; they are people who are deeply loved, a source of joy, a warm memory, and an indispensable member of a family.
Like a superhero, Nightwing also had countless sleepless nights, holding his batarang and questioning why he hadn't saved the victim, plunging a family into an abyss of suffering.
“But I believe you will do your best,” Dick said softly. “Sometimes to heal, often to help, always to comfort, isn’t that right?”
But Dick suddenly remembered the first time he met Dr. Osborn—the doctor who used "Stay Ig' Alive" as accompaniment for CPR at the scene of the car accident, his face full of confidence and pride. He believed that Dr. Osborn would do his best.
Allen didn't actually notice the unpredictable look in the eyes of the superhero beside him.
His mind was racing, and the information he had seen that day was converging in his mind like a spring.
He saw the same mark on another gang member he was treating today, the same one on the policeman. The Triskelion, a reversed triple helix representing life, growth, and the natural cycle, first appeared in Newgrange Cemetery in County Meath, Ireland. The eye at the very center of the triple helix adds a touch of eeriness to this seemingly auspicious symbol.
“He’s a good cop,” Dr. Miller said as he walked in. “A rare good man in the Brudhaven Police Department. Of course, Officer Grayson is a good man too; thankfully, he’s not on the list of injured tonight.”
Allen suddenly realized what he had been thinking was wrong. According to the way of thinking of people like Brud Haven who know that their families are intact, no normal person would choose to be a policeman. So, this Alex is indeed a rare guy.
Allen recalled what he knew about the family situation of Officer Broodhaven—
Dick Grayson, a Gotham lad who bravely ventures into Broodhaven, seems like a loner at first glance; Eric Hossen has a wife and daughter, but he has a criminal record, is entangled with gang members, and has a dirty past. In addition, there are several other people in the police department who have been incarcerated, one of whom was said to have been a gang leader who recently went straight from being an informant.
Aside from these 'typical' Brodhaven cops, most of the officers in the department are just ordinary, unreliable cops; there isn't a single decent one.
A sunny and healthy Broodhaven boy like Alex Pedro is a rare breed indeed.
Nightwing coughed awkwardly, completely unprepared to hear his name from another doctor again. This time, he couldn't avoid it anymore, otherwise it would seem too deliberate.
“Officer Grayson is really great, he has a strong sense of justice and has helped me a lot! If you have any emergencies and need to contact me, you can go to him!”
Allen whirled his head around: "...What exactly is your relationship with Grayson?"
Dick almost didn't react: "...Uh, we're friends."
Allen adopted a cold, icy smile, his eyes behind his glasses filled with wariness: "Friends? You dare to be friends with him?!"
"...No...is that not okay? I think Officer Grayson is a pretty good person."
Officer Chainsaw is a good guy, but you aren't.
Allen's eyes grew even more wary: "So what? That's no reason for you to be friends with him."
Dick almost seriously considered whether he had offended Alan in some way because of this strange conversation. They had been sitting together happily enjoying cereal just last night. And the doctor had just seemed to be concerned about Nightwing's safety.
Then he caught a glimpse of the disdainful look that Allen was giving him.
The clever Nightwing suddenly realized: "..."
Well, Dr. Osborn's way of expressing concern is always so unique. It wasn't Officer Grayson who angered Dr. Osborn, but Nightwing.
Was he worried that Officer Grayson might be in danger?
Getting too close to superheroes makes you an easy target, as everyone knows.
Allen was still staring intently at the domino mask on Dick's face with his beautiful green eyes.
Dick almost couldn't suppress a smile, so he decided to take the initiative: "Ahem, so what's your relationship with Officer Grayson?"
Allen looked away, appearing quite busy scribbling on the medical record: "...a complete stranger to the neighbor."
“Oh, so they’re just neighbors.” Nightwing nodded seriously. “In that case, my relationship with him might be a little closer than yours with him. We’re good friends.”
Dr. Miller, standing to the side, twitched at the corner of his mouth.
He always felt that this conversation should have taken place in kindergarten.
It's like saying, "He and I are good friends, so you can't be his good friend. I'm his best friend, so you should stay away from him."
Allen didn't know why he was angry; he just suddenly became angry.
"Whatever." Dr. Osborn stepped out of the ward, leaving behind only a noble and aloof figure.
Dick burst out laughing.
After laughing, I thought to myself, "Officer Grayson, you're really popular. Nightwing and Dr. Osborn are both vying to be your best friend in the world!"
"...Is it just my imagination?" Dr. Miller murmured, watching Allen's departing figure. "I feel like a superfluous NPC or a dog in a dating sim."
Dr. Miller, feeling the strain of his injury, sighed and walked out of the ward.
An anxious-looking couple hurried toward them, and the nurse led them to a stop in front of Allen: "Dr. Miller, Dr. Osborn. These are Mr. Alex Pedro's parents."
Allen glanced at Dr. Miller, and within a breath, he reverted to his role as a doctor.
At Andy Miller's prompting, Allen gave the Pedros, who had rushed over, a formulaic smile and began dutifully explaining Alex's current condition to them.
“…Multiple fractures in his spine led to spinal cord damage…” Allen described it in the simplest terms possible. “The spinal cord injury occurred in the part responsible for issuing commands and controlling the legs. Previous surgery had stabilized his severely damaged spine, but…”
The Pedros, looking utterly bewildered, interrupted Allen's explanations filled with technical jargon, asking the question that every patient's family member would ask: "Will he ever be the same again...? Can my son ever recover his health?"
That's probably impossible, unless a miracle happens.
However, before he could finish speaking, Allen blurted out:
"I have no idea."
“But you’re a doctor! How could you not know?” Mrs. Pedro exclaimed emotionally, reaching out to tightly grasp Allen’s sleeve. “How could you not know?! I want to find a better doctor—”
Allen adjusted his glasses and stated bluntly without any attempt to conceal his true feelings: "I guess you can't tell the difference between a doctor and God—whether he can recover depends on the subsequent treatment. I can only tell you that his condition is currently stable..."
Andy Miller couldn't stand it any longer. He stepped forward and stood in front of Allen, inviting the Pedros into the meeting room. Then, in a gentle and calm tone, he assured them that Broodhaven Hospital would do everything in its power to save their son.
Allen stood next to Andy with his lips pursed, seemingly completely unconcerned about the way Pedro and his wife were looking at him.
Fortunately, Dr. Miller is very good at communicating with patients' families.
After the Pedros left, Andy sighed to Allen: "Allen, communicating with patients is an art. Although saying 'I don't know' is the most honest of all, you have to consider the feelings of the patient's family."
A familiar sense of unease washed over Allen, and countless suppressed memories flooded his mind, causing him to frown in annoyance.
As Emily's body burst into blood on the ground, his hand trembled and he smashed a petri dish, then Norman Osborn slapped him hard across the face.
What did Norman Osborn say again?
—I don't have time to deal with these trivial matters. Only incompetent people choose suicide; death is death, it's God's will.
The doctor in charge of treating his mother was Norman Osborn's personal physician. The man casually told him his condolences and then left.
Andy was still rambling on and on, and Allen became more and more irritated as he listened to her talk about various theories of humanistic care and empathy.
Finally, all of Allen's emotions boiled down to one sentence: "It's not my responsibility to take care of their feelings. They are responsible for their own emotions. I'm just stating the objective facts."
I did nothing wrong; I couldn't possibly have made a mistake.
Allen repeated this sentence over and over in his mind.
Andy opened his mouth, but then stopped himself from speaking.
He thought that perhaps he was being a bit too hasty. Alan Osborn was highly skilled and knowledgeable, and he couldn't wait to see the rising star, so he piled many things that were not originally the responsibility of an intern onto Alan, pressing him to grow up like an eager old father.
But today he suddenly discovered that Allen has a fatal flaw.
Perhaps he was overthinking it.
Andy turned his head, his gaze involuntarily falling on the psychologist who was stationed in the emergency room.
Emergency room doctors are perhaps among the groups most prone to mental illness. Their psychiatrist, Charles Carter, is not only responsible for regulating the mental state of his patients, but also for keeping a close eye on this group of doctors who are not in good physical or mental health.
"Allen, I have an idea, you..."
Andy watched Dr. Charles's busy figure, then turned back to stare into Allen's eyes.
However, before he could finish speaking, the nurse hurriedly pushed open the door, interrupting their conversation.
"Tenth Avenue! Quick! There's been a shooting over there, Dr. Osborn. You need to go with the ambulance!"
Allen breathed a sigh of relief.
He immediately nodded to Dr. Miller: "Thank you very much for your help. I will try to notify the patient's family the way you did next time."
The cold smile left Dr. Miller speechless once again, which only strengthened his resolve.
Having shaken off Dr. Miller, Allen rushed towards the ambulance parked outside the hospital without looking back.
After he fastened his seatbelt, he turned his head and saw a familiar figure sitting in the driver's seat.
Still wearing his Nightwing uniform, Dick smiled at Allen: "Looks like we'll have to work together tonight, Doctor."
Allen's face was cold, and his mood was even worse: "Don't hold us back."
Looking at Allen's even colder face than before, Dick thought that the doctor's sharp tongue might double in the coming days.
He was mentally prepared: "Don't worry, doctor. You just focus on saving lives, I'll handle the rest! We'll be the best team!"
He gripped the steering wheel with one hand, pressed the accelerator, and extended his other fist towards Allen.
Allen: ...
He didn't want to know why he understood the meaning of the gesture.
"Don't do such a boring thing."
"Come on! Let's bump fists and wish each other a successful operation!"
"I refuse."
"Please, doctor, just give me a fist bump! A high five will do too!"
"I could never do something so childish! I'm a doctor, not a primary school student."
"What's childish about this? Only elementary school kids would think it's childish. It's perfect for superheroes and doctors! If I weren't driving, we could have done a whole hip-hop routine! That's how trendy people should greet each other!"
Dr. Osborne was so damp he almost got rheumatism.
Then, a brown head suddenly appeared between the two seats.
Google paramedic Daniel stared at Allen with eager eyes: "I want one too! A high five will do, Doctor, give me a high five! I need your blessing!"
What blessings are there? It was just a simple rescue.
Allen stared at the two inexplicable guys in front of him, completely unmoved.
Then Daniel forcibly pulled his hand out of his pocket and pressed it against Nightwing's outstretched hand.
Daniel thought for a moment, then raised the doctor's hand again, placing his own hand between Nightwing's and the doctor's, a happy smile spreading across his face.
"1-2-3! We are the best team!"
Allen had completely forgotten all those messy emotions he had just felt, and just sullenly thought that the two guys were as noisy as the landlord's parrots.
Nightwing had driven the ambulance like a tank, covering a distance that normally takes 40 minutes in just 17 minutes and 20 seconds.
He's obviously someone who races a lot.
Allen snorted, completely unaware that his previously icy expression had finally returned to normal, and he was no longer in a menacing mood.
The three quickly jumped out of the ambulance and immediately got to work.
However, the scene at the scene still took them by surprise.
The emergency responders received information that a car had been shot at and overturned near 10th Avenue, and the condition of the injured was unknown, requiring urgent assistance.
A passerby called the police and dialed the emergency number.
The situation was far worse than Allen had anticipated; the vehicle attacked was a police car, a specialized vehicle used for transporting prisoners.
At that moment, the police car doors were wide open, and the car was empty. The prisoners who should have been inside had vanished, leaving only two prison guards covered in blood lying on the spot, their eyes vacant.
“Death confirmed.” Allen removed his hand from the person’s carotid artery.
"careful!"
Allen saw Nightwing suddenly pounce on him.
Immediately afterwards, he felt a dizzying sensation, a sharp pain in his waist, and it felt as if he was being pulled off the ground.
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