Thomas Wayne Clinic
Gotham city
Third-person POV:
"Graduated with honors, First of class with only 20 years! I must say this is impressive, Mr. Asklepios, but I find myself confused. Why would someone like you look for a job here?" Leslie Thompkins, a doctor, more especially Batman doctor, already has my respect by only that, she says as she reads my resume.
She runs the Thomas Wayne Clinic, and after arriving in Gotham, this was the only medical hospital that I could find that wasn't closed; all of the hospitals in Gotham are closed because of the Joker.
The population is in dire need of medics, but almost every doctor has left the city in fear or won't leave their houses.
"Simple Mrs. Thompkins, with great Power comes great responsibility." I calmly say to her:
This makes her raise her eyebrow in confusion and curiosity.
"What do you mean, Mr. Asklepios?" She unquires
"That's the motto that I've always lived by: with great Power comes great responsibility. That means that If I have a Power, ability, or knowledge that can be used to save or help other people, I have a moral obligation to do it!" I speak truthfully, using the words of one of the wise men to have been killed in every Spider-Man movie.
"That's quite a motto to live by." Leslie says, and I can actually see her comparing me to someone we both know.
"Yes, I agree. I know that you, ma'am, may look at me and think that I am still Young and that I should focus on other things, but I am older enough to understand one thing." I says, Catch her attention, as I could feel that she wouldn't hire me because she didn't want me to go through what Bruce had passed.
"When you can do the things that I can, but you don't, and then the bad things happen, they happen because of you." I say shocking her.
Leslie can see young Bruce Wayne in this Young Man, but she also sees that Bruce would always be in the dark because he thinks he belongs there.
But this Young man has a Light and dark look; he looks balanced and ready, something so similar yet different from Bruce.
"The pay sucks; I am already warning you."
The bright smile that I give her is only mirrored back by one of her
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Markus POV:
Gotham city
A gotic and corrupted city
This is what I used to think when I heard the name.
But what she truly is at the moment can be summarized in one word:
Desesperation
Joker had a manager to put this whole city in a panic state; he took something vital that everyone had, the feeling of calm that I hospital gives, a safe Haven for those who need help.
And I will bring that back, whatever the cost. Batman put his suit on to Go help people; I put on my coat and went help them.
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Gotham City
Thomas Wayne clinic
Markus Pov:
"AAARG! AHH!." A Patient screams and whimpers as he is held back on his back by a bunch of nurses in the middle of the hallway.
"What did this guy take it?" A nurse asks as he and the others struggle to hold back.
"I don't know." Another one replies
"Fuck, apply Naxalone to this junkie." The nurse said with a bit of sneer at the patient
"All right!." The other nurse agreed with him.
That's enough, and time stops as I enter the room at superspeed.
I look at the patient: shoes extremely well kept, but the sole is black with a tinge of dirt on it; clothes ironed to the point of perfection; no rash or needle mark on his arms; he is healthy; no rings or any tattoos; his hair after the struggle was very wild, but by his style, it is very unlikely to be this normally messy.
He looked absolutely in distress and pain. A quick scan with my X-ray vision didn't reveal any boné fracture or wound, no wound, or any bad reaction to any infection or disease, but by the way that he kept swinging his arms widely, he didn't possess good coordination of his large muscles.
His scent is a mixture of pain and panic, but why?
In his resume, he looks well and appears to have a healthy life, but by right now, he is in distress as he is being held down, which suggests that he has hyposensitivity to touch or a severe case of aphenphosmphobia (a phobia or fear of being touched). and he appears to have some sort of mental or social impairment as he doesn't formulate words in his scream; he only whimpers and screams devoid of words.
I know what this patient has.
I look back at the clock in the hallway; not even a second has passed as I am using my superspeed. I then run back to the entrance, and time goes back to normal.
"Release him now!" I speak seriously.
The five nurses look at me in surprise before rolling their eyes at me, probably not knowing who I am.
"Somebody take this kid away." The nurse who is holding the syringe with Naloxone sneers at me.
"This kid right over here is the new doctor, So I'm going to say again, release the patient and put the syringe down before you kill him; you're inconsequential morons!" I screamed at them, and that probably scared them as they released the patient and the nurse dropped the syringe on the ground.
And the effects were almost instant as the patients screams and wails lessened and lessened until they stopped, and the patients fell asleep completely exhausted.
The nurses all look at the patient in shock at seeing him calm down almost instantly as they take their hands from him, then they turn their gaze to me.
"He is not psychotic; he is autistic!"" I tell them as I look at the exhausted patients that he was so terrified; he couldn't understand what these strangers were doing to him and why they were holding and touching him.
They all look shocked at my revelation, but I couldn't care less, so I walk up to the nurse who was holding the syringe.
She was shorter than me, was a bit overweight, and was shaking, probably from the enraged look on my face.
"You almost injected a patient with Naxalone, a patient who may have never had any contact with drugs; if I hadn't stopped you, the Naxalone would have interacted with the medicines that he already takes because of his affliction, making a chain reaction inside of his body and causing his heart to start failing. Not satisfied, you still insult the patient by calling him a junkie; I don't trust you!" I say the last part so coolly that she shudders.
"To those who don't know me, let me introduce myself. My name is Doctor Markus Asklepios, and I am the new doctor at this clinic. And let me get one thing clear: I don't give a damn if you all like me or not, but when I tell you something, you all follow it. I will not leave room for failure." I tell them seriously.
They all widen their eyes. They probably heard that there would be a new doctor in the clinic and recognized the name, but they didn't think it would be someone Young like me.
"Now that's out of the way, put this patient in a room and give him some electrolytes for him to rehydrate himself, and give him one light sedative to help him rest, and the rest of you—." They all look surprised at me, but they listen intently to me.
"Get ready; there will be thousands of people in need of help, and they only have us. I will coordinate all of the nurses and helpers so that you all won't be overwhelmed. Any doubt or consultation for any patient comes to me. I am always at your service. Remember to take breaks to drink water, go to the bathroom, or just breathe. Remember, we are not supermen; we are humans." I say, and they look at me with surprise and respect, I think. They keep watching me, making me roll my eyes.
"What are you all waiting for? Get ready for work!" I say, and they scramble to tell the others and get ready for work.
Then the door opens, and the Patients start coming.
"Here we go!" I said, then proceed to attending the patients.
What Markus failed to see as he was occupied was the smile on Leslie Thompkins's face as the older woman saw him in action, proving himself as he diagnosed the patient, inspired, and stood his ground against the others.
It is safe to say that she would keep an eye out for the new doctor and see how much he can do for this clinic.
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