Chapter 249 Campfire on a Snowy Night (Part 3)

The room was filled with silence. The water ripples on the teacup reflected Victor's heavy breathing. Cobert just mechanically took the cup and poured water into his mouth, not caring whether the water was hot or not.

"When she is a mental patient, she can hurt you unscrupulously because she doesn't know who you are or who she is."

"But when she becomes a mother again, no mother can accept what she has done..."

"Perhaps, she always wanted me to leave." Cobert's tone became a little numb: "When she was ill, she threw everything she could at me and told me to get out..."

"But I can't leave, I can't leave her." Cobert's voice began to tremble again: "No matter what, I can't leave her, she is my mother."

Victor closed his eyes, and heavy exhalations came from his mouth and nose. Schiller also sighed softly and said: "When I prescribed you medicine before, I suggested to you that you move to a new apartment. Changing the environment is conducive to the patient starting a new stage of treatment and rehabilitation."

Cobert shook his head, and his tears flashed a fine luster under the dim light as he moved. He said: "She doesn't want to leave."

"Why?"

Cobert's hand tightly grasped the water cup, and the blue veins protruded from the back of his hand.

"Because of my father."

"According to my mother, she and my father met on this street. My father brought her back here to meet his family. They had dinner together, drank sweet wine, and chatted by the fireplace..."

"My uncle sang, and the others laughed and asked them to dance..."

Accompanied by a slightly hoarse voice, the fire in the fireplace rose, and people gathered around the sofa. Some people brought wine, and some brought fruit plates. When a folk song was sung, everyone clapped their hands.

A young man and woman walked to the center of the room. They danced, and their clothes fluttered. When the song ended, they held hands, accepted the praise and blessings of their family, and then walked into the church hand in hand.

Until one of the hands touched the name on the tombstone, in the cold rainy night, only a crazy woman was left spinning in this dark and decayed old house, and only the sound of rain sang for her.

"After my father died, my mother blamed it all on him not bringing an umbrella on that rainy night, so she often turned over everything in the house, trying to find an umbrella."

"But if I really gave her an umbrella, she would scream and curse and smash the umbrella with a chair. She said there was a curse on it, and she said we were all cursed..."

"I can't remember how long this situation has been..."

"At the beginning, she would drag me to tell their past stories all night long, and then she would stay in the corner of the living room silently every night to turn over the cabinet where she had turned out everything countless times..."

"Every time I tried to stop her, she started to attack me. Later, as soon as I returned to this house, she would ask me to get out..."

"When she began to wake up gradually, I was very happy. I thought this kind of day was over, but I didn't expect..."

Cobert covered his face with his hands, his shoulders kept twitching, and the sobbing that he couldn't cry out sounded more like the cry of an owl. In such a heavy atmosphere, it was so funny that it made people want to laugh.

Just like that, the day dawned, and the phone rang even more sharply. Schiller picked up the phone and said, "Really? She's awake?... OK, we'll be there right away..."

When I walked out of the old house of Cobert, the sun was rising from the horizon. The rain that had fallen all night filled the air with thick moisture, which was made even cooler by the morning wind. When I breathed it into my lungs, it was like swallowing a lot of ice cubes.

The car drove to the hospital. When the three got off, Gordon had already walked out and said helplessly: "You guys go in quickly, she's making a big fuss."

After going upstairs, before entering the ward, I saw a nurse standing outside the ward door, holding an infusion bottle in one hand and a hose and needle for infusion in the other hand. The needle was full of blood. Another older nurse was about to go in. Victor stopped them and asked: "What's going on?"

The young nurse sighed and said: "This lady just woke up and pulled out all the infusion needles in her hands. She bled a lot. She also hit people with the bottle stand. We didn't dare to approach."

The old nurse poked her head in and said: "We have to subdue her quickly. Her hands are still bleeding. It will be more difficult to deal with the wound later."

At this time, there was a sound of footsteps at the stairs next to him. Brand came over with a group of nurses. He waved his hand and said: "Give me diazepam."

The old Mrs. Copperpot in the room seemed like a madman. No matter who approached, she screamed and wanted to attack.

But fortunately, she was an old woman after all, and had lost a lot of blood. She didn't have much strength and was quickly subdued. Once the sedative was taken, she calmed down and lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling with dull eyes.

Cobblepot walked in front, followed by Victor and Schiller. Cobblepot walked to his mother's bed. Old Mrs. Cobblepot rolled her eyes and looked at her son. Cobblepot saw a kind of guilt and pleading on his mother's aging face.

"Why do you want to stop me... Or..." A dry voice came from her throat, and Cobblepot's Adam's apple trembled and couldn't answer.

"I don't want to stay here anymore... I can't do that anymore, don't stop me..." Old Mrs. Cobblepot began to tremble all over, but she couldn't move, so she could only freeze in place.

Schiller suddenly pushed Cobblepot and whispered, "Show your arm to your mother."

Cobblepot looked back without knowing why, and Victor also looked at Schiller, but under Schiller's gaze, Cobblepot still stretched out his arm and rolled up his sleeves.

His arm was thin, his skin was rough, and his skin color also revealed an abnormal paleness, but there was no wound on it.

Schiller stood by the bed and said to Mrs. Cobblepot, "Madam, you suffer from catatonic schizophrenia. You imagined that you attacked your son when you were ill, but we used medicine and now you have woken up."

Mrs. Cobblepot stayed. She grabbed her son's wrist with her eagle-like claws, then tried to turn over and rubbed Cobblepot's arm with her other hand.

It was really smooth there, without even any scars left. The lizard serum healing potion made by Connors was not just for treating trauma, but could even make the scars left by the wounds completely healed.

Cobblepot felt his mother's arm begin to tremble, and then he heard her sobbing, not knowing whether it was because of guilt or relief.

"Mom didn't want to do that, I didn't want to do that..."

"You didn't do that." Schiller's tone was so firm that it seemed as if he was not lying at all. Even Victor rubbed his eyes, wondering if the wounded Cobblepot he saw before was an illusion.

"Yes..." Cobblepot grabbed her mother's hand and said, "That's all fantasy, because you didn't take the medicine on time, mom, as long as you are treated in the hospital and take medicine, this will not happen..."

Old Mrs. Cobblepot was already crying out of breath, and Brand outside the door sighed and said, "You should leave here first, the patient needs to rest."

Old Mrs. Cobblepot held her son's hand tightly, Cobblepot couldn't leave, only Schiller and Victor came to the door of the ward.

The morning sun shone into the room through the window, the door frame became a picture frame, and Schiller and Victor stood in a golden background.

Victor touched his lips with his fingers, and Schiller saw that his fingertips were trembling. When the emotions accumulated overnight burst out, the usually gentle and steady professor looked like he was about to collapse.

His eyes even began to be a little unfocused, as if many terrible illusions were bothering him.

"If Nora dies..." Victor's voice sounded, like a bow with a broken string. He looked at Schiller with a look of help and said, "...will I go crazy like this?"

Schiller couldn't tell the answer, because he was now facing a living person, his patient, not a character in a comic or movie.

The familiarity with the plot and the prophecy of foresight fell here, which did not bring the sense of superiority that the time traveler should have enjoyed, but only brought heavier sorrow.

In this world, everyone has his own tragedy, and no answer can be the only solution to the tragedy, so there is no savior.

In the city of Gotham, some people play tragedy, some people play comedy, some people laugh wildly for tragedy, some people cry for comedy, some people laugh and cry, and some people cry and laugh.

No one can make everyone cry, and no one can make everyone laugh, not even the time traveler and the prophet.

This is Gotham, a city that cannot be saved.

The golden background in the frame was about to overflow. Suddenly, Victor turned around tremblingly. He walked back to the ward quickly, stared at Cobert and said, "Follow me, Cobert... follow me!"

Cobert was pulled by him, stood up from the bed, and walked out of the hospital. The morning light engulfed their figures. At some point, Schiller standing by the door also disappeared.

Victor walked back into the laboratory and quickly took off his coat covered with moisture, and threw it aside.

He stroked Cobert's back, pushed him in, and then walked to the laboratory table. He turned to Cobert.

Victor seemed to have lost his usual elegance and gentleness. His face looked a little neurotic and crazy under the cold light of the laboratory.

"Cobert..."

Victor looked into Cobert's eyes, which contained warmth and expectations that Cobert could not understand, and paranoia that ordinary people could not understand.

It was not like a teacher looking at a student, but more like a father looking at his son, or more like a person who was saved from tragedy looking at another tragedy, or a traveler looking at another traveler on the boundless snowfield.

At this time, Cobert heard Victor ask him:

"Cobert... do you know how water turns into ice?"

Someone stopped laughing, I won't say who it was.