The Quiet Swan

…Huh! Well, I guess there is a first for everything.

In the nine years I've lived in Gotham, I have actually never been approached by anyone that the Gotham Gazette has a known moniker for as a vigilante. I can't help but feel like that means I'm in trouble. You aren't wrong, at least. I do like a good book! I had to take a break from reading after medical school, because textbooks will really suck the joy out of reading when you're strapped to them for so many years. 

It's surprising that this library is in such good condition compared to the other public services falling victim to the urban decay clawing its way across the city. It's like it pops up in pockets no matter which block you're walking- like cysts. But I guess our reigning socialites just can't bear the thought of not having at least one public service they can slap their name on, lauding their virtue as supporters of public education and resource dispersal. I think the only ‘normal’ damage this library has ever seen was from that earthquake back in '98.  Everything else, if I recall, is thanks to some of the less savory masked counterparts you chase down. 

…Sorry. I don't really get to talk to people that much. You're right, I do like to visit the library. Although practically nowhere in Gotham can actually be considered safe, unless you've got the money and sway to make it so, this expanse of bookshelves and study rooms is one of the few places I can trick myself into relaxing in. Stories have always brought me comfort. And, it's a cheap way to learn about any diagnoses I'm not familiar with that might come through the ER on one night or another. I had a patient with hEDS recently, and I realize I don't know nearly enough about it, considering what a common diagnosis it is.

But I get the feeling you aren't approaching me just to talk about books. Do you, uhm, need help?

And I get what you mean about textbooks. I think half the city forgets that medical professionals have to spend years memorizing enough information to fill several floors of this library. If anyone deserves to read something fun afterward, it’s probably nurses and doctors.

As for the library itself… you’re not wrong there, either. I’ve spent enough time swinging around Gotham to know exactly what you’re talking about. Some neighborhoods look like they’re being held together by duct tape and stubbornness, and then suddenly there’s a perfectly maintained library, museum or community center sitting in the middle of it all. Gotham likes pretending it’s healthier than it is.

The earthquake damage was before my time, but unfortunately I can confirm that most of the more recent repairs have involved people dressed in costumes making very poor life choices. I guess that’s my fault, too, to some extent.

And don’t apologize for talking. Most people either clam up completely when they realize who they’re speaking to or immediately start asking questions about Batman. Having an actual conversation is kind of refreshing.

The library being one of the few places you can relax makes sense. I think everyone needs somewhere they can pretend Gotham isn’t Gotham for a few hours. Though I have to admit, using the library to study diagnoses between ER shifts is probably the most nurse answer you could have given.

hEDS, huh? That sounds exactly like the kind of thing that would send someone down a three-hour research rabbit hole.

But you’re right. I didn’t reach out just to talk about books. Well… not entirely. I noticed you. Not in a creepy way. Okay, probably making this worse. What I mean is that your name kept appearing in places where I pay attention. Hospital volunteer records. Community outreach events. Charity drives. A witness statement or two. Little things. You have a habit of showing up when somebody needs help, even when there’s nothing in it for you. People like that are rare in Gotham.

And lately I’ve been looking into something that doesn’t quite make sense. I’ve been seeing a pattern involving people arriving at Gotham General under strange circumstances. Different neighborhoods. Different backgrounds. Similar outcomes. Nothing concrete enough for the police. Nothing dramatic enough for the papers. Just enough to make me suspicious. The problem is that I only see fragments. You work in the ER. You see the city when it’s bleeding.

I'd reassure you that I don't find it odd when people notice details, but if I'm honest, you're making it clear that you've been ‘noticing’ me for over six months. Some of this dates back to when I was still completing my final practicum for Med School. Volunteer work that counted toward my practicum hours, statements in regard to patient cases that I've had to relay basic information on to GCPD, Charity drives I've been a plus one two maybe once or twice? 

I mentioned that I hadn't been approached by a masked vigilante in the nine years since I've moved here. That's statistically a good thing. It means I'm less likely to get on the receiving end of a masked monster's ire- at least purposefully. 

But I don't imagine this goes well if I refuse, either. Makes me look suspicious. Even though, I think it's probably the most sane thing in the world, not to want anything to do with the risk that comes with such associations. 

Unfortunately, I am not blind to patterns. I notice things just like you do. 

I like to get coffee at the the Sundollar Coffee two blocks away from Gotham General after my night shifts in the ER. My next shift is Thursday night, and I usually stop by at 7:30 AM and stay until 8 AM, when the bus route stops by the station just outside. If you're there, we can chat. After that, I think I'd rather keep to myself, if it's all the same to you.

It is two in the morning and everything has gone to shit.

That's the way of things, though, isn't it? It's always past time when urgent care centers close and no reasonable doctor will answer their phone. This isn't home base, and so Jake Doy.le doesn't have someone discrete on speed dial to patch up wounds and avoid the hustle of an emergency room.

In fact, were someone to ask Don Callis about where his two missing enforcers are, he'd probably deny that the answer is Gotham vehemently.

They're on their own.

"Stay with me, buddy." Jake turns up the radio. It's Deftones. Why is it always Deftones? The old speakers of the junker sedan rattle on the passenger side and the bloody man in that seat groans in pain and frustration, hazy eyes opening just a bit wider.

"Fuck you, turn that-"

"Stay with me." Doyle cuts Josh off, death-gripping the wheel. The chest wound Josh has suffered is pulsing blood and his attempt to pack the wound enough to afford good pressure and give his colleague a chance at survival was amateur at best.

He runs a red light and heads right for the entrance marked EMERGENCY. He pulls to the curb, throws the idling car in park, and hops out, his own forearm screaming in pain as he moves to open the dented passenger side door with more force than an undamaged one would require.

It wasn't that long ago he tore his bicep, and the scar is still raised and plainly visible. He's been diligent with his PT, but right now he's about to push past all reasonable limits to help Josh get inside. They don't have time to wait for help.

"C'mon," he grunts, tossing Josh over one shoulder with effort and trying to keep the weight off of his healing arm. Doesn't work, though. Something's not right, but it will have to wait.

Josh smacks a palm against Doyle's back, in frustration and response to the pain and in a clear sign to go, go, go!

Time to see how this fucking goes.

There were two kinds of nights that occurred in Gotham General's emergency room. The first were the nights that felt like the end of times- not the kind where the air is rife with passionate cries of combat and the blood-rushing demand of survival. No, it was the quiet that came after. When tragedy had settled in the air like the smog that lurked over the sky cutting towers of the city, choking in the quiet when one was trying to sleep, that was the afterward. The sick and tired moans and murmurs that filled the waiting room of the ER like the pungent stench of sour milk amongst other rotten, failed opportunities. 

The other kind were the nights that really were the end of times. There was a difference between it feeling that way, and being that way. The oppressive weight of drudgery, and isolation, versus the hectic frenzy of disaster spilling down the walls like a flood through broken plaster. Carrying with it all of the remnants of stability and support that one relied on to survive such tragedies. Tonight had started like the former, but with an abrupt wail of demand and need, it transforms into the latter. 

Helena is shocked from her seated position by a cry for help. She was one of the only nurses on duty that actually bothered to make rounds in the waiting room, offering people water and ferrying back requests for PRN medication and timeframes. Hell, she'd even clean out emesis basins just to settle the agitation in the room. A cluster of sick, hurting, hungry people? It made for rising tempers 9 times out of 10. Her co-workers preferred to gossip behind the nursing station and drawl irritably when interrupted by their actual work roles, but Helena found their company more grating than that of the patients.

She had been typing a message into a secure messaging system at her work station for one of the on-duty night physicians, requesting Zofran for a single father who'd called out of his 16 hour shift to bring his daughter to the ER because she was pockmarked with strange bruises and vomiting, but she is standing from her seat before the second call comes, and the moment she hears Gunshot!, she's trotting out of the nursing station. Her co-workers scramble along after her, and they all snatch clusters of wadded medical gloves from boxes mounted in plastic holders on a nearby wall. 

“Miley, Erica, grab a gurney from the ambulance bay! And get Rick, he can help lay the guy out for eval,” The nurse barks sharply, before gesturing quickly for Jake, laden with an injured man and both spattered in blood, to follow her. With a quick scan, she sees no bloody injuries on the victim's legs, and since he's hoisted over a man's shoulders, and there's blood all over Jake's shirt, it's easy to deduce it's either thoracic or abdominal. About 60% mortality right out the gate. “Kara, I need you to run pages in this order- Hit the Blood Bank with a STAT order through teams, call a Code Red for Dr. Miller, and call Radiology for a Trauma 1 FAST scan. Blood Bank, Code Red for Dr. Miller, Radiology FAST scan. Heard?” 

“Heard! Blood Bank, Code Red Dr. Miller, Radiology Fast.” The blonde to Helena's side stammers, before sprinting back toward the nursing station. Despite Gotham General only employing the brunette for one or two nights a week in the ER due to her qualification pay bonus, they were lucky they had the CMSRN tonight. 

Helena only speaks to Jake once the male EMT on standby she'd called for, Rick, has helped lay out Josh. Once she's lifted the gurney's lower half to elevate Josh's legs, she is carting Josh into the nearest open trauma bay room at a sprint with Rick and Jake in tow. “Sir, I need you to tell me the following. What are your names? Does your friend have any known chronic illnesses? Has he drank, smoked, or used in the past 48 hours? When was he shot? Was the wound gushing, spurting, or leaking?” Helena speaks slow, loud, and clear, so that Jake can follow her many questions as closely as possible given the circumstances. Substances impacted wound management, projected recovery of lung or heart damage, and responses to emergency medications like TXA. Time of injury and nature of blood flow would determine how close Josh might be to going into shock and blood-loss initiated cardiac arrest.

The nurse's head jerks away when the EMT indicates he can't find a reliable pulse, and Helena grimaces. “Shit,” She rasps, hitting an emergency call light as they enter the medical room to indicate to anyone rushing down the hall what room they were in. Overhead the page for Code Red is called, and Helena instructs Rick to put in an Arterial line while moving to asses Josh's breathing. Shallow, unsteady, eyes rolling. “Get that line in, and get me a cannula and non-rebreather mask! I've got SOB with unreliable intake, and we need that Shock Index for Dr. Miller,” She can feel her fingers jittering with adrenaline, but with forced, steady breaths, she tilts Josh's head back to open his mouth and assess for any blockages. “Has he coughed up any blood?” Gauge for potential esophageal or lung puncture via bullet or bone fracture. 

She helps the frazzled EMT put in a nasal cannula, looping it over Josh's ears efficiently while Rick sprints to get a non-rebreather bag mask. As footsteps thunder down the hall, Helena slings one of her legs up onto the gurney so that she can lean over her patient, first digging her forefingers into the meat of Josh's neck to search for his artery and measure his pulse while Jake speaks, and then to rip his shirt open. Rick had accidentally taken the emergency shears with him, and there was no time to wait. She needed eyes on the wound, to see if it was sucking, or if there was pneumothorax or hemothorax distending his thoracic cavity.

Alqatta, W. (2025). Minimally invasive management of penetrating thoracic and abdominal injuries: a case series. International Journal of Emergency Medicine, 18(245). 1-8.

Brouhard, R. (2026). First aid treatment for a sucking chest wound. https://www.verywellhealth.com/how-to-treat-a-sucking-chest-wound-1298891 

Cleveland Clinic. (2026). Arterial Line. https://my.clevelandclinic.org/health/diagnostics/arterial-line 

Franke A., Bieler D., Friemert B., Schwab R., Kollig E. & Güsgen C. (2017) The first aid and hospital treatment of gunshot and blast injuries. Deutsches Ärzteblatt, 114(14). 237-243.

Jain A., Waseem M. (2026) Thoracic trauma. StatPearls Publishing. https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/books/NBK482194/ 

Koch E., Lovett S., Nghiem T., Riggs R & Rech M. (2019) Shock index in the emergency department: utility and limitations. Open Access Emergency Medicine. 11.. 179-199. 

Lamb C., MacGoey P., Navarro A. & Brooks A. (2014). Damage control surgery in the era of damage control resuscitation. British Journal of Anaesthesia, 113(2). 242-249. 

Mayo Clinic. (2021). Managing penetrating trauma. https://www.mayoclinic.org/medical-professionals/trauma/news/managing-penetrating-trauma/mac-20518677 

Mellick, L. (2025, April 6). Gunshot wound to the chest emergency. [Video] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=78mIdy0fbPA

If I were to start writing excerpts of scenarios from Helena's backstory, important story beats or small memories she might reminisce on, what would you want to read about her first?

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Sideblog it, make a separate blog you give the url out to, but do not let minors follow and interact with a blog if you post sexual and nsfvv content. Tags are not enough. If it is an adult space it is an adult space. I do not currently follow anyone who this applies to and I will not follow someone back if it does.

I wasn't planning on sharing my other Batman art here (other than Two-Face) but here is some of my takes on Batman characters :)