Chapter 2 New Neighbor? He's a doctor, oh, then it's alright. ...
Dick's first aid skills certainly weren't learned from YouTube, but he couldn't very well tell Alan that he could also stitch wounds, and intubation was a piece of cake; he'd done first aid for criminals/victims countless times with Batman. However, this experience didn't seem to help much—Eric was too badly injured, he didn't have enough tools at hand, and besides, the physical condition of a middle-aged man who was used to fried chicken and beer was simply no match for the Batman of Gotham.
He has to admit that there are some unexpected situations that he is powerless to handle, even though he is Nightwing.
When the ambulance arrived at the emergency room of Brudhaven Hospital, Allen was still kneeling on the stretcher, covered in blood, continuing to perform CPR on Eric. The frantic paramedic, Daniel, looked like he was about to cry.
However, intimidated by Dr. Osborne's presence, he tried his best to help push the hospital bed with his trembling hands.
When the ER doctors from Brudhaven came over to take over, Allen firmly refused, saying, "This is my patient."
His tone was so matter-of-fact that everyone subconsciously felt they should listen to him.
When I came to my senses, I realized that something seemed off.
A bewildered nurse grabbed Dick: "Who is he?"
Dick: "...a kind, helpful, skilled, and ethical citizen of Brodhaven?"
Daniel stammered, "...He, he's right, Mr. Osborne is far more professional than I am!"
Dick thought to himself that everyone standing here was probably more professional than Daniel. The silly kid looked like he was idolizing that 'enthusiastic' young man.
Although he felt that the young man's eyes remained cold as he saved the man, as if Eric Hosen was nothing more than a prop used in medical school teaching than a real person on the verge of death.
"Good citizen" Allen moved methodically, leaving the doctors and nurses in the hospital completely bewildered. However, given Allen's skillful technique and the urgency of the situation, no one dared to interrupt him until the emergency department's administrative director rushed over and recognized Allen.
“Then—treatment room number 2, Dr. Osborn,” the ward nurse ordered decisively.
The emergency room is a place where teamwork is essential, and a shrewd and decisive resident nurse can increase efficiency several times over. As Allen continued administering first aid to Eric, he thought to himself with a good mood that, in this respect, he could already rate his upcoming workplace an A.
He should have a good life here. The head nurse is calm, and no one is simply and rudely stopping him from saving lives just because he's a stranger intern—it should be better here than in Hell's Kitchen.
At least no one is watching him like a ghost every day.
Allen: "Put on the monitor, prepare for electric shock!"
The nurse stepped forward skillfully, without the slightest hesitation. Daniel followed eagerly behind Allen, taking notes in his notebook.
It was an ordinary yet busy day at Blue's Haven Emergency Department, and also Allen's first day of his internship there, before he even had a chance to report to his supervisor.
The stern-looking middle-aged manager stood at the emergency room entrance, looking at Allen with considerable satisfaction.
The other doctors and nurses' eyes lingered for a few seconds on Allen's delicate, somewhat dirty and bloodstained face, before glancing at his striking red hair.
...I don't think this guy is a doctor.
Andy Miller, a senior resident in the emergency department, strode in. After seeing Allen's actions, he raised an eyebrow with interest, took two steps back, and stared at Allen, showing no intention of intervening.
Ignoring the people around him, Allen shouted, "Stop pressing!"
The nurse stopped what she was doing.
At the same time, amidst Daniel's gasp, Allen's scalpel cleanly and decisively cut open Eric's trachea.
Eric clenched his teeth in pain. Neither he nor Dick were able to intubate the patient on the way, and now they had to perform an airway cut.
Blood gushed from near the scalpel, but Allen's hand remained remarkably steady—he had already become quite skilled back in New York.
His skills were honed while he was walking the line between the law and reality. Although he was just an intern, he actually had a lot of medical experience. It's just that he was very easy to be sued if he wasn't careful.
Thanks to someone, he is now extremely familiar with legal provisions.
In fact, he almost cut open the trachea of a beaten-up lawyer in Hell's Kitchen and stitched up the wounds of a strange man in a tight-fitting suit no less than twenty times—all within a year.
But his good intentions were not rewarded. The lawyer and the strange man in the tight-fitting clothes seemed to have their eyes on him, and they even tried to stop him from going out to meet with his friends.
He was just going to chat with some old friends from the Metropolis.
Thinking of this, Allen's carefully crafted smile diminished by 0.5 degrees.
His reasons for coming to Brudhaven were complicated and could not be explained in a few words, but fifty percent of it was related to that annoying lawyer, thirty percent to the strange man in the bodysuit with little devil horns on his helmet, and the remaining twenty percent was the fault of another strange man in a red and blue bodysuit.
He hates superheroes.
After the groin cannula was inserted, the nurse followed Allen's instructions and gave Eric two defibrillations. When the voltage reached 200, Eric's heart finally started beating again.
Allen looked at the sinus rhythm on the monitor with satisfaction: "...He's back. Go do a blood crossmatch...then take him to the operating room."
The guy he pulled back from the brink of death will probably be in the ICU for a while. Today's surgery didn't require him, the ER doctor; the nurses had already called for consultations with other departments, and his mission—to temporarily save Eric's life—was complete.
Dick was still waiting at the door, his fists clenched, his expression solemn.
He finally breathed a sigh of relief when he didn't hear the doctor announce the time of death.
Eric's wife was still waiting for him at home, Mrs. Hossen might already be cooking stew, and their lovely daughter was in high school—Dick couldn't even imagine the despair the family would feel without Eric.
Allen had already removed his gloves and disinfected them before walking out of the operating room and greeting everyone.
Dr. Osborne's red hair was no longer as neat as when Dick first saw it; now a strand was curled and stuck to the doctor's forehead, making him look somewhat dull and more like a college student who hadn't graduated yet.
Indeed, according to the medical school's curriculum, Alan Osborn has not yet graduated.
Dr. Allen, who hadn't graduated yet, was staring at his clothes with a bitter and resentful look, as if the blood on them was the biggest problem he faced today. In Dick's words, his expression was like a mix of Damian and Professor Snape.
Dick went up to the doctor, shook his hand gratefully, and warmly invited him to have dinner with him before going back to the police station to give a statement. He could also drive the doctor home.
He didn't know why, but he was just very curious about this doctor.
He had already subtly inquired about it; Alan Osborne is a new intern in the ER at Brudhaven. He had previously lived in New York but recently moved to Brudhaven.
From New York to Brodhaven?
This is a choice that few people from other places would make.
“You can ask my assistant to make an appointment…” Allen looked up, glanced at Dick, and answered casually.
Then he almost bit his tongue.
Reflecting on his current situation, he reluctantly changed his tune and said, "Give me an address, I'll go there myself."
Take the subway.
Dick: "...If you don't mind, I can take you there."
What did he just say? Make an appointment with the assistant?
“No need.” Allen still wore that smile that seemed to have been carefully calculated. “If I remember correctly, your beat-up car just broke down.” The young policeman who had slipped away was overtaken by their ambulance on the road.
Dick: "...Don't say that, Jetta will be sad."
After staring at Dick for ten seconds, Dr. Osborn slowly blinked: "...Is there anything else?"
Dick struggled to pull his eyes away from Dr. Osborn's lake-like eyes: "Uh..."
“Welcome to the ER in Brodhaven, Allen!” Dr. Osborn’s future colleagues came over to greet him, interrupting Dick who was about to speak.
The head nurse then noticed Dick, and she chuckled, patting the officer who occasionally frequented the ER on the shoulder: "Oh, it's you again, Officer Grayson. The hormone levels here are off the charts! Please, stay away from the ER."
Allen was curious to know what Dick was trying to say, because he guessed that the other man wouldn't come over to greet him. The fruitless conversation was bothering Allen, so he kept glancing at Dick.
Dr. Andy Miller approached and warmly shook hands with Allen, interrupting his thoughts: "Dr. Osborn, you did a fantastic job! Your movements were so efficient I almost doubted you were an intern. It seems we'll get along very well from now on—by the way, I'm your mentor for the time being, just call me Andy, or Dr. Miller if you like. Given that you'll make my teaching time much easier, may I just call you Allen?"
Allen's attention lingered on Dr. Miller's last sentence—why did he make the other person's teaching time easy? What did that have to do with the other person calling him Allen?
However, the current situation didn't seem suitable for asking questions, so Allen had to put on a cold, friendly smile and introduce himself to maintain the appearance of a normal human being.
However, he probably didn't realize that his expression at that moment made it seem as if his colleagues in front of him were organs waiting for him to transplant.
Dick noticed it, and he believed the group of doctors noticed it too.
Andy Miller's smile was a little stiff, as if he was reassessing his upcoming teaching time.
“He looks like our ER has been moved from the Golden Hall to the Arctic… I’m shivering from the cold but I also want to stare at him.” Dick overheard a nurse mutter. “I bet patients would love to have their chests cut open by him. Staring at his face helps them stop the pain.”
Then another nurse chimed in.
After expressing their friendliness, the doctors and nurses immediately dispersed and began a new round of busy work. Dr. Miller was soon called away by a nurse to check on another patient.
Allen stood there, pondering what the first step for a working professional entering a new company should be.
...So why can't hospitals provide each doctor with a personal assistant? He really isn't used to life without an assistant.
It was quite hot. Dick took off his jacket and draped it over his arm, then tidied his messy hair before leaning closer to ask Allen if he had seen Eric's killer: "Allen, may I call you that? Anyway, thanks to you today, otherwise Eric..."
Allen blinked, staring at Dick's shirt before shifting his gaze to his hair, a hint of confusion on his face.
After a moment, he nodded to Dick: "You're welcome, sir." There were too many people just now, and he didn't see where this person came from.
Dick: ? Don't you recognize me? We just worked together perfectly to save someone!
Allen stared at Dick, seemingly waiting for his next words.
Dick: ...
“I…” This was the first time Dick had encountered a situation where he didn’t know how to start a conversation. He smiled awkwardly at the doctor’s increasingly puzzled look: “Ahem, I want to remind you that as a witness to the car accident, you need to go to the police station.”
Allen nodded: "Send me the police station address to my email, and I'll let you know the time."
Dick paused for a moment, watching the doctor's retreating figure, and began to ponder why he had encountered obstacles in communicating with Dr. Osborn all day.
The doctor's way of communicating seemed a bit strange, but he didn't know how to describe it for a moment.
As Dick took Eric's personal belongings from the nurse, he pondered the scene of the car accident that had occurred earlier that day.
So who exactly did Eric offend?
Before he could figure it out, he turned his head and saw the doctor walking past him again without looking at him.
Dick: ?
If I remember correctly, Dr. Osborne has passed by him three times already.
Allen had no idea he was being watched; he was looking for his way.
The head nurse was supposed to take him to the administrative manager to complete his onboarding process, but unfortunately, another large group of wounded soldiers had just been brought in, and everyone was extremely busy. Alan didn't want to wait and decided to do it himself.
Dick then saw Dr. Osborn frown and ponder for a while, then randomly choose a corridor and walk forward, completely unaware that this was the path he had just passed.
Dick: ...?
No way, no way, no one can get lost in a hospital full of instructions and surrounded by colleagues, right?
But when Alan passed by Dick for the fourth time, completely absorbed in his own world and not seeing Dick at all, Dick finally couldn't help but grab the doctor.
"Are you looking for the administrative director's office?" Dick gave the doctor a friendly smile. "I'll take you there."
Allen raised his chin coolly: "No need, I can manage on my own..."
Before he could finish speaking, Dick had already pulled him into another corridor: "Don't be shy, come with me!"
Allen wondered, who is this man in the shirt...?
For some reason, he sometimes couldn't quite distinguish between the almost identical people in the corridor and all the almost identical faces; he couldn't even be bothered to remember other people's names. Hairstyle and clothing were key to identification, and most of the time this method worked.
Unfortunately, he wasn't very sensitive to sound, and since he didn't spend a lot of time with people, he wasn't very good at distinguishing their voices.
This stems from certain experiences in his childhood, which an unprofessional psychologist attributed to psychological factors, suggesting he subconsciously resisted human contact. He partially agreed—he did indeed dislike interacting with crowds and mostly preferred to ignore unimportant individuals.
However, the doctor was not very willing to recall these past events at this time.
Worse still, he hated asking for help even more than getting lost; it was worse than being killed.
But before he could refuse Dick, the enthusiastic Dick had already pushed him to his destination.
Allen saw the sign for the Executive Director's Office on the door, and when he turned his head, he saw Dick's warm smile.
In an instant, Allen thought of Samoyeds, Shiba Inus, and Corgis, as well as a Ragdoll cat that his brother used to own.
The Samoyed continued to give Allen a hearty smile.
“…Thank you.” Allen managed to squeeze out a single word and explained, “Actually, I’m not lost; this is just my first time here. What’s your name?”
Dick: "...If I remember correctly, I said that ten minutes ago, and then I repeated it half a minute ago."
Allen smiled and nodded: "I remember, thank you, kind sir."
Dick: ...So you still didn't remember, right?
Just as Dick was about to say something more, his phone rang in his pocket.
Colleagues at the police station reported that the owner of the car that hit Eric had been identified.
Dick turned to look at the doctor, who hadn't knocked yet: "Do you need me to knock for you, doctor?"
Allen: "...My hand has intact nerves and functions perfectly."
“Okay, thanks again, Allen.” Dick waved. “One last time, I’m Dick, Dick Grayson.”
Allen was momentarily stunned, and when he turned around again, the agile policeman had already run far away.
What did he just say?
...Never mind, it's probably not anything important.
Allen focused his gaze on the office door, and after confirming once again that it read 'Administrative Director's Office,' he knocked.
The emergency department at Brodhaven Hospital is just one department within the hospital. The administrative head is an older woman named Sera Goodman, who wears gold-rimmed glasses and habitually lets them slip down her nose slightly before looking at people from above. Her upturned eyelids give her a somewhat aloof appearance.
This reminded Allen of Richard Parker and Curtis Connors, whom he had met in the laboratory when he was a child.
That was the same look as Dr. Connors's, with a scrutinizing and satisfied expression.
Alan nodded somewhat uncomfortably to Ms. Goodman, receiving a very friendly smile in return from the serious woman. It seemed that this woman was quite different from the lab fanatic.
Ms. Goodman had already learned a little about Allen from the first aid she had just received.
Emergency room doctors specializing in trauma do not need to be indecisive or compassionate. They must quickly and decisively abandon fear and panic, make judgments and provide emergency care to patients within seconds, and sometimes they need to be as cold-blooded as an emotionless robot.
To use a somewhat inappropriate analogy, departmental doctors aim before firing, while emergency room doctors fire first to seize the initiative.
She saw the future star of the department in Allen.
Ms. Goodman smiled again at the young doctor, her gaze lingering on the large bloodstains on Allen's shirt for a few seconds: "Welcome, Dr. Osborn... By the way, would you like me to recommend a suitable dry cleaner? Silk is not easy to clean."
**
Dr. Osborne ultimately refused Ms. Goodman's offer to use the dry cleaners. Wearing his blood-stained shirt, he efficiently completed all the formalities, completely ignoring Ms. Goodman's hesitant expression. Then, led by a colleague, he toured the general hospital in a daze—his shirt stained with blood.
Several nurses passing by thought a patient or the perpetrator had escaped.
The emergency room was on the first floor, which relieved Allen. He had already memorized the subtle differences on the walls and the decorations placed at every corner, so there wouldn't be any mistakes while working here, as long as he wasn't constantly running into unfamiliar places.
The second floor houses dedicated research rooms and laboratories. Further up, there are north and south sections, with clinical departments, medical technology departments, and functional departments distributed in different areas.
Brudhaven Hospital is a sizable private hospital with many renowned departments and considerable wealth.
Every October, the hospital hosts a lavish charity fundraising banquet at the Peninsula Hotel. This year, the sponsor the hospital secured was the renowned Wayne Group from the neighboring city. The generous sponsor donated a large amount of equipment and high-end devices to the entire emergency department, and even renovated an entire building. The hospital's top management was overjoyed—they planned to sculpt a life-size statue and fountain for Bruce Wayne, like The Thinker or David, but it's said that Mr. Wayne declined.
Ms. Goodman's high heels clicked rhythmically in the emergency room corridor. She joked cheerfully with Allen, "While I don't know Mr. Wayne's motives for suddenly investing in our hospital, the hospital has already decided to waive all of Mr. Wayne's medical fees here—if he's planning to fire his personal physician and move to Brudhaven. I personally think the probability of seeing Bruce Wayne in our ER is 'high'—one in a million. So, just in case, go look at Mr. Wayne's picture in the lobby and remember his memorable face, or you could buy a copy of Playboy."
Allen: ...
He decided to waste his brainpower on these trivial details tomorrow or the day after.
At the same time, it was decided to put Bruce Wayne's name into the list of people who don't need to know, and to delete the name from memory tomorrow morning.
On his first day at the company, Ms. Goodman only allowed Allen to get acquainted with his colleagues briefly.
Actually, Allen's colleagues originally wanted to take him to a nearby bar to get to know each other better, but after seeing Allen's face, they couldn't bring themselves to say anything.
I don't know why... taking Dr. Osborne to a club feels like tempting a good student to skip class.
Ms. Goodman maintained her enigmatic smile, seemingly eager to see what kind of sparks Alan Osborne could create with the talents in their emergency department, the firefighters who frequently visited the ER, and the police officers.
The experienced administrative manager knew from the first moment she saw Allen that his face was just a deceptive facade. As for what kind of person Dr. Osborn really was, only time would tell.
Besides the many colleagues at the hospital who were praising Dr. Alan Osborn as a beacon of light, there was another person who was also deeply attached to the doctor.
Officer Dick had finally finished his day's work and was carrying a large pile of cereal and fast food, trying to open the door of the old apartment building with his keys in one hand.
As he opened the door, he glanced at the door of the apartment next door, which had finally been cleaned. He thought to himself, "It seems that the room next door, which has never been occupied before, has finally welcomed a new tenant. I just don't know if they'll be easy to get along with."
I hope she's a quiet, unassuming person, and preferably not from Florida.
He wasn't being regionally prejudiced; he simply had a deep reverence for the holy people of Florida and sincerely prayed they wouldn't move to Brodhaven—given that he had just rescued a python from its owner and fiancé from Florida that day.
So when he saw Dr. Alan Osborn's handsome face, which could illuminate the dim night, emerge from the balcony next door, Dick couldn't help but breathe a huge sigh of relief.
Then, upon hearing a violent explosion coming from the doctor's room, he reflexively rolled over and, following his superhero instincts, dashed across the balcony.
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