387-389

Chapter 387: Leave It to Me 

Outside the window, 

a rendition of La Vie en Rose played on repeat, over and over again.  

Meredith and Liz had already cried themselves into a sobbing mess.  

Even Adam couldn’t help but feel a lump in his throat.  

Music has a way of hitting you hard like that sometimes.  

And why wouldn’t it?  

If it didn’t have that kind of power, how could those invincible people truly conquer everything in their path?  

A soft drizzle started falling outside, pattering lightly against the ground.  

Adam instinctively stood up, ready to grab an umbrella and head out.  

Because he’d already figured out who was playing that music beyond the window.  

At this moment, in this place, it couldn’t be anyone other than Miss Tracy McConnell—no one else fit the bill.  

“Move it, out of my way!”  

Just then, a figure came barreling toward him, shouting as they ran.  

“Ted?” Adam said, startled.  

Ted didn’t even glance at him. He brushed past Adam and bolted straight for the hospital exit.  

“Did something happen?”  

Adam’s heart skipped a beat. He took off after Ted, catching up in just a few strides.  

“Ted, what’s going on?” Adam asked, jogging alongside him, not even breaking a sweat.  

“Nothing’s wrong—don’t follow me!” Ted waved him off in a panic, picking up his pace.  

By now, they’d made it outside the hospital.  

“Could it be…?”  

Adam’s eyes landed on a small figure in the direction Ted was running toward. He slowed to a stop, a guess already forming in his mind.  

In the rain, 

under the corner of the hospital wall, 

a petite figure slipped a small guitar into its case and clutched it to her chest.  

This time, she didn’t strum the strings or sing her sorrow. Instead, she let loose in the pattering rain, crying her heart out without restraint.  

Ted dashed over, peeling off his jacket and holding it above her head, quietly shielding her from the wind and rain. He stood there, letting the water drip down on him without a word.  

The small figure didn’t seem to notice—or care—about anything around her. She just poured out her emotions, as if challenging the heavens to see who could drown in sadness first.  

Adam watched from a distance, a wry thought crossing his mind: “Damn, that’s some tender, romantic nonsense right there.”  

Ted had this quality about him—an almost deceptive charm.  

At just the right moment, he’d pull off something gentle and romantic that caught you off guard and tugged at your heartstrings.  

Like right now.  

Even Adam had to give him props for that.  

But those “key moments” were rare by definition. Most of life wasn’t made up of them.  

So, after a while, Ted’s less savory side would inevitably slip out, hurting the women who’d fallen for his sweetness and charm.  

Adam wasn’t sure why Ted was even here—whether he’d come to stir up trouble or to visit Barney.  

But he figured Ted must’ve been moved by Tracy McConnell’s raw, heartfelt grief, which explained this whole dramatic rain-shielding scene.  

Should I stop him?  

Adam hesitated.  

The guitar speaks the heart, and for Tracy McConnell to play like that, her love for her boyfriend Max must’ve been deep—profoundly moving, even.  

She was, without a doubt, one of the good ones.  

She’d already been dealt such a brutal blow. Did she really deserve to get hurt again by Ted’s eventual mess?  

He mulled it over, but his feet wouldn’t budge to intervene.  

How could he stop it?  

“Leave it to me?”  

Uh… yeah, no.  

Time ticked by, second by second.  

Ted, still out in the rain, was soaked to the bone by now, looking like a drowned rat.  

Tracy finally managed to stem her tears. She wiped her face with a hand, glanced at Ted, and murmured a soft “thanks” before standing up and walking off.  

“I’ll walk you home,” Ted offered, holding his jacket up, ready to keep shielding her from the rain.  

“Thanks, but no need.”  

Her voice was quiet, but the resolve in it stopped Ted cold.  

He just stood there, jacket in hand, staring dumbly as Tracy vanished into the rainy haze.  

“Go back inside, man. Don’t just stand there getting drenched,” Adam called out from under the hospital awning.  

Ted ignored him, still rooted to the spot, gazing off into the distance.  

Adam rolled his eyes. Whatever. He wasn’t going to bother.  

Romantic types always had a flair for the dramatic—getting soaked in the rain was basically their default move.  

He’d said his piece. If Ted wanted to stand there and drown, that was on him.  

For a girl like Tracy, the further she stayed from Ted—and Adam, for that matter—the better.  

Back in the hospital corridor, 

Meredith, who’d been bawling her eyes out earlier, was gone. Only Liz remained, quietly weeping.  

“Where’s Meredith?” Adam asked.  

“She went to get some answers from Shepherd,” Liz replied softly. “Who was that just now?”  

Adam filled her in on Tracy’s story.  

Cue the waterworks—Liz started sobbing again.  

Adam grimaced. What a mess.  

Growing up, he’d always loved that line from Dream of the Red Chamber where Jia Baoyu, the lipstick-loving romantic, said women were made of water.  

Looked like there was some truth to it after all.  

He was itching to bail, but politeness won out. “Liz, you okay?”  

“I’m fine,” she choked out between sniffles.  

“Cool…” Adam perked up, ready to make his escape.  

“Alex is struggling…” Liz blurted, unable to hold back. She slipped into vent mode.  

Adam’s mouth twitched. Fine, guess I’m sticking around for the psychology lesson—straight from the sunflower manual.  

“How’s he doing?”  

“He’s leaving,” Liz said through tears. “He says he can’t stay here anymore. The way everyone looks at him—he can’t handle it. But I swear I don’t look down on him…”  

Adam listened quietly as Liz spilled the details on Alex’s last few days.  

Thanks to the sharpshooting husband of that gorgeous woman—and some timely surgery—everything had been snipped clean. Alex’s recovery was going surprisingly well.  

Aside from having to squat to pee from now on, he’d probably be fine.  

But being a doctor? That was likely off the table.  

The new urethra was artificial—a wound, really—and prone to infection. Someone like that couldn’t step into a sterile OR.  

Even if he could keep practicing, Alex probably wouldn’t stay at the medical center.  

This place was his personal hell now. Too many familiar faces. Unless you had nerves of steel, the before-and-after contrast would eat you alive.  

Even if no one else meant anything by it, Alex would overthink every glance.  

Leaving, starting fresh somewhere new where no one knew him—that wasn’t a bad call.  

Adam was about to offer some polite advice when his eyes narrowed. Out the window, in the rain, a wobbly figure stumbled from the bar across the street toward the hospital.  

With his sharp eyesight, he recognized them instantly.  

“Joe?”  

Adam bolted for the hospital entrance again.  

Screeeech!  

Just as he was about to reach Joe, a car came tearing across the road, fishtailing wildly. Tires squealed against the wet pavement as it barreled toward the hospital, showing no signs of slowing down.  

Joe, unsteady on his feet from whatever was wrong with him, didn’t stand a chance of dodging.  

“Watch out!”  

As the car drifted and charged forward, Adam’s senses kicked into overdrive—everything slowed like bullet time. He calculated in an instant: he could make it.  

With a burst of speed, he grabbed Joe and yanked him out of the way, narrowly avoiding the crash.  

The car, meanwhile, plowed straight into the hospital.  

Chapter 388: A Human Tragedy 

Medical Center. 

Front Entrance. 

A car came barreling straight through the doors. 

“Hands up!”  

Armed security guards rushed over in an instant.  

Just a few days ago, there’d been a shooting here, so the guards were on high alert, reacting lightning-fast. 

“Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot! I’m just delivering pizza! I’ve been stabbed! I’m dying! I need help!”  

A panicked man’s voice screamed from inside the car. 

Adam was helping Joe hobble in when he overheard this. He glanced at Joe.  

“Go on, I’m fine,” Joe said.  

Joe had been running a bar across from the hospital for over a decade. Even if he didn’t know much about medicine, he’d picked up plenty over the years just from listening to the medical staff shoot the breeze every day. He understood how the hospital worked and what the doctors were thinking.  

He’d walked over here on his own, but this pizza guy—yelling about being stabbed and on death’s door—was clearly about to jump the line for surgery. His case was obviously more urgent. 

“Mary!” Adam called out to a nurse.  

“Hey, Joe.”  

“Hey, Mary.”  

Nurse Mary came over right away, taking charge of Joe with a familiar greeting. She was clearly a regular at his bar too.  

“Where’d you get stabbed?”  

Adam approached the car, looking at the young pizza delivery guy in the driver’s seat. He didn’t see any signs of heavy bleeding from a stab wound, so he asked.  

“My side! My side!”  

The pizza guy shouted, a mix of terror and fury in his voice. “I was just delivering pizza, and they stabbed me! I’m dying!”  

A nurse rolled a gurney over by then.  

“Relax! I’m a doctor! I’m here to help!” Adam said, trying to calm him down. “Listen, I need to lift you out of there first so we can treat you. Don’t struggle—it could make the wound worse. Got it?”  

“Got it,” the pizza guy yelped.  

Adam reached in, carefully pulled him out of the driver’s seat, and laid him on the gurney.  

“We’ve booked Operating Room 5. Should we prep for a peritoneal lavage?” an experienced nurse asked, following standard procedure.  

“No, cancel the OR!”  

Adam lifted the guy’s shirt where he’d pointed to his right side and shook his head. “Just grab some antiseptic and a Band-Aid.”  

“What’s wrong?!”  

The pizza guy, still freaking out, saw Adam and the nurse freeze and roared, “Why aren’t you saving me?!”  

The nurse looked totally baffled too.  

“Head hurt?” Adam asked.  

“No.”  

“Chest pain?”  

“No!”  

“Neck pain?”  

“No! What are you guys doing?!”  

“Anywhere else hurt?”  

“I don’t know!”  

“…It’s just a scratch,” Adam pointed out.  

“A scratch?”  

The pizza guy blinked, sat up, and looked down. Sure enough, there was a long red mark—but not a drop of blood.  

Everyone stared at him, speechless.  

He squirmed, embarrassed, then raised his hand like he was swearing an oath. “It was a really, really big knife!”  

“I believe you!” Adam nodded.  

Delivering pizza in New York—especially at night—you’d think this guy had seen it all. Pocket knives probably popped up every other day. But this kid had freaked out so bad he’d floored it all the way here, crashing through the entrance without even braking, screaming that he was dying.  

If it wasn’t a huge knife, that’d be the real shocker. It might not have been a 50-meter machete, but it was probably close…  

Or, maybe this guy was just a total coward. First time getting stabbed, and even a tiny dagger morphed into a 50-meter blade in his mind. Maybe he’d bolted 49.999 meters before that “massive” knife barely grazed him.  

Either way, this guy was a champ—outshining Glenn, the pizza boy from The Walking Dead who only lasted six seasons.  

“I’m fine!”  

Now fully calm, the pizza guy started patting himself down, overjoyed.  

“Not necessarily. Got insurance?” Adam asked, nodding toward the car that’d smashed through the entrance.  

“No!!!”  

The pizza guy followed Adam’s gaze, saw the wreckage, and let out a squeal like a pig at slaughter.  

Looking at him now, Adam knew something definitely hurt.  

Leaving this clown to the nurse, Adam turned back to Joe.  

“Where’s it bothering you?” he asked.  

“Nowhere,” Joe said, hesitating. “I just passed out for a sec earlier. Maybe low blood sugar?”  

“Come on,” Adam urged. “I know you hate coming here, but since you’re already in the door, you’ve gotta tell me what’s up so we can fix it.”  

“Treatment here’s too damn expensive,” Joe grumbled. “A couple tests, and I’m out months of work! It’s highway robbery!”  

“But you’ve got insurance, right…?” Adam started, then stopped, wide-eyed. “Don’t tell me you don’t have insurance?”  

“I run my own bar—a small gig. Where am I supposed to get money for insurance?” Joe said with a self-deprecating laugh. “Besides, I’m healthy as a horse. No aches, no pains all these years. Shelling out cash every year for something I don’t use? That’s a waste!”  

“You’re making bank off us medical folks every day, and we’re keeping your bar buzzing every night. And you’re telling me you won’t even throw us a little business?” Adam teased. “Or what, you just ask a doctor at the bar about any little problem and skip the clinic bill?”  

“I buy them drinks too,” Joe said sheepishly.  

Adam couldn’t help but laugh.  

Of course! 

Live by the mountain, eat from the mountain; live by the sea, eat from the sea. Joe lived by the hospital, rubbing elbows with doctors and nurses daily, saving himself clinic fees.  

Smart guy.  

If he didn’t have that perk, Adam wouldn’t believe for a second that Joe could skip insurance for over a decade so confidently. Even without big illnesses, little stuff pops up, right? Without insurance, you’re screwed—can’t afford a thing.  

Sure, a doctor hanging out at the bar might check you out for free, but you’re still on the hook for meds. And drugs in the U.S.? Pricey.  

Hospital meds, though? That’s a whole other universe. Take a basic Tylenol pill: eight cents at a pharmacy, but $15 a pop in here.  

That’s a 187.5-times markup.  

One example tells the whole story!  

That’s why Joe avoided this place like the plague.  

And it wasn’t just Joe. Back when Joey was between acting gigs and his insurance lapsed, he got a hernia. Even in agony, he held off until he landed a job to renew his coverage before coming in.  

No insurance safety net? You don’t dare get sick. One visit could bankrupt you.  

A real-life tragedy: alive, but broke.  

Adam’s face grew serious.  

Because if Joe knew the system this well and still showed up, it meant he knew something was wrong. He wouldn’t be here unless he had no choice.  

With that in mind, Adam started a thorough check.  

“Call Dr. Shephard,” he told the nurse.  

“Dr. Shephard?” Joe flinched. “Is it bad?”  

He knew the name—Dr. Shephard, head of neurosurgery at the medical center. How could he not?  

“We’ll only know once Dr. Shephard takes a look,” Adam said, reassuring him. “For now, just lie back and rest.”  

Joe’s face went pale.  

He’d heard all the stories about Adam—knew he wasn’t just some rookie intern. But that’s exactly why this hit harder.  

Right now, he wished Adam was just a regular newbie—or even a slacker like Alex, who clocked in at the bar every night. Then maybe this could be a mistake.  

But with Adam? It felt like a death sentence.  

Chapter 389: Are You Even Human? 

Medical Center 

“Dr. Duncan, Dr. Shephard’s looking for you,” the nurse called out, holding the phone. 

“Got it,” Adam replied with a quick smile to Joe before stepping out of the room. He walked over to the nurses’ station and took the receiver. 

On the other end, Dr. Shephard’s tone was off—clearly rattled. Not that it was surprising. His wife had shown up out of nowhere, his mistress had dumped him, and Dr. Burke had leapfrogged over him to become interim chief of surgery. With all that mess, anyone would be on edge. 

Adam gave a rundown of the initial exam. 

“Get a CT first. You’re on watch tonight. Call me if his condition worsens; otherwise, I’ll check in tomorrow morning,” Shephard said briskly before hanging up. 

Adam’s sharp ears caught a snippet of Meredith’s voice—shrill and dramatic—just as the call ended. Lines like “You’re heartless, shameless, and unreasonable!” and “Oh, and you’re not?” flashed through his mind like some cheesy soap opera script. 

“Joe, we need to get you a CT,” Adam said, stepping back into the room where Joe was waiting, eyes wide with anticipation. 

“Okay,” Joe agreed without hesitation this time. 

When death starts feeling real, money suddenly becomes less of an issue. He’d grit his teeth and pay up. That’s the leverage the medical industry has to charge outrageous fees without blinking: no tests, no treatment. No treatment, you die. Your call. 

Adam personally took Joe down for the CT. If things went as expected, Joe was in for major surgery—a thrill for every intern. 

“Adam!”  

“Ted?”  

Halfway down the hall, Ted came barreling toward him, all frantic energy. 

“I need to ask you something,” Ted blurted out, breathless. 

“I’m working. Can it wait ‘til I’m off?” Adam brushed him off, already guessing where this was headed. 

“I can’t wait that long,” Ted insisted, practically buzzing with urgency. 

“It’s fine. I don’t mind,” Joe chimed in from the gurney, flashing a kind smile. 

Adam glanced at him, reading the subtext. Joe was scared of the test results—any excuse to delay the inevitable probably felt like a relief. 

“Fine, spill it,” Adam said, keeping pace toward the CT room. 

“You remember that girl outside earlier?” Ted asked, voice rushed. “Do you have her number?” 

“Nope,” Adam replied without missing a beat, though he’d seen this coming. 

Ted narrowed his eyes. “The nurse said her boyfriend was the one you resuscitated. If I want her contact info, it needs your approval.” 

Clearly, he’d already tried the nurses’ station, only to hit the hospital’s patient privacy wall. 

“And who are you to her, exactly?” Adam asked with a teasing grin. 

“…” Ted faltered, stumped. 

Adam shrugged and kept pushing Joe’s gurney. 

Ted stood there for a second before jogging to catch up. “Adam, I’ve got a gut feeling—she’s the one. My future Mrs. Ted Mosby.” 

“Whoa, that sounds familiar,” Adam quipped. “Didn’t someone say that before? Oh, right—Lily mentioned you said the same thing about Robin the other day. So what’s the plan, Ted? Moving to the Middle East for a harem of ‘true loves’ and future Mrs. Mosbys?” 

“Robin’s different from her,” Ted shot back, giving Adam a sideways look. “And you’d know exactly why.” 

Robin had been his blue French horn—his big romantic fixation. Now? Not so much. 

“…” Adam blinked, caught off guard. What did this have to do with him? 

“So, give me her number. It’s the best outcome for all of us,” Ted said, his smile a weird mix of hope and strain. 

Last night’s party had been a disaster for Ted. He’d gone in carefree and come out crushed. When he heard Robin had chased after Adam, his heart shattered. He wanted to blame Adam, but Matthew and Lily both backed Adam up. Plus, Adam had left early on his own—above and beyond what friendship required. Matthew and Lily’s words hit him hard, shaking him to his core. 

He always ragged on Barney’s wild antics, half-joining in while pretending to disapprove. But now? He was starting to act like Barney himself. After a sleepless night, he’d come to the hospital after work to see Barney, hoping to figure out if Matthew and Lily were right. Did he need to change? 

Then he heard La Vie en Rose. As a guy who loved music and had a knack for bands, the raw emotion in that voice floored him. When it looped again and again before cutting off, that soulful, heartbroken sound filled his head. Robin’s image faded, replaced by the hazy outline of this singer he’d never even seen. His romantic side kicked into overdrive—she was his real true love. 

That’s what sparked his mad dash to shield her from the rain earlier. And when he saw her tiny figure sobbing freely in the downpour, he didn’t need his friends to tell him: this was his destiny. 

“Sorry,” Adam said, shaking his head. 

“Come on!” Ted pleaded. “I’m serious.” 

“You know why she’s here, right?” Adam gave him an odd look. “You heard the love and pain in her voice. Her boyfriend—the love of her life—just died. And you’re ready to swoop in now? Are you even human?” 

Ted froze, flustered. “I didn’t mean right now… I just don’t want to miss my chance. I could wait quietly on the sidelines…” 

“If that’s the case, she’s not changing her number anytime soon,” Adam said with a smirk. “If you’re really waiting quietly, you don’t need to be near her. Let’s talk in six months and decide if you should reach out.” 

“Six months?!” Ted yelped. 

“Problem?” Adam shot him a disdainful look. “What, your so-called ‘true love’ can’t survive half a year? Or do you think so little of her—that her grief won’t last that long, and she’ll just bounce into your arms, all happy and healed?” 

“…” Ted had no comeback. Adam had him cornered with logic. 

Wait—something felt off. 

“We? No way!” Ted snapped out of it, glaring. “There’s no ‘we’! You stay away from her!” 

“Depends on you,” Adam said, grinning. “If your feelings hold steady for six months, it’s just you—no ‘we.’ But if you waver and start chasing some new ‘feeling,’ then sorry, man. A girl like that deserves to stay far away from guys like us.” 

Guys like us? Were they even the same kind of guy? Adam had some nerve saying that. 

Ted’s mouth twitched. After a beat, he gritted his teeth. “Fine, it’s a deal. But you cannot contact her on your own.” 

“Don’t worry,” Adam said with a cryptic smile. “Deep down, I lean toward option two. A girl like that should stay far away from guys like us.” 

“…” Ted was speechless. 

Could he stop saying “us”? It was freaking him out.