belamy20
patreon
442-444
🕑 Added 2025-07-17 16:56:27 +0000 UTCChapter 442: A Surprise Pair of Kids
Medical Center.
Emergency Room.
Adam scanned the area but didn’t notice anything unusual.
After thinking about it, he realized—this was actually normal.
After such a major accident, anyone with common sense would be hyper-aware of their physical condition.
If they felt even the slightest discomfort, they’d immediately tell a doctor, afraid they might have some hidden injury.
Of course, there were always exceptions—like that middle-aged African-American woman who insisted she had been blessed by Lady Luck. She was too busy bragging about her miraculous survival to others to acknowledge her body’s warning signs. But people like that were rare.
The entire day continued like this.
Injured people kept getting brought in, one after another.
There was no helping it—this was just the efficiency of emergency responders in America.
The Medical Center was the best teaching hospital in New York.
As long as it didn’t tell the emergency dispatchers that it was full, paramedics would prioritize sending critical patients there.
Would a for-profit hospital turn these patients away?
What a joke.
America was a country built on survival of the fittest.
Hospitals were no exception.
Why did the head of surgery, Richard, insist on bringing in Dr. Shephard first, then, despite Shephard’s objections, hire Dr. Montgomery as well?
Because even though the two had personal conflicts, one was a top-tier neurosurgeon, and the other was a leading pediatric specialist.
Recruiting them was a business move.
Their reputations would boost the hospital’s overall ranking.
And those rankings directly influenced where ambulances took patients.
Some hospitals were drowning in resources, while others were starving for them.
If ambulances ever started prioritizing other hospitals over the Medical Center, the hospital’s higher-ups—the director, the head of surgery—would probably lose their minds.
To protect their jobs and avoid getting fired by the board for declining performance, they might even be desperate enough to personally suit up, stand outside the ER in the freezing cold, and anxiously wait for an ambulance to arrive.
Night fell.
"Adam, come with me."
Liz suddenly appeared, grabbed Adam’s hand, and pulled him toward the patient rooms.
"What’s going on?"
Adam shook off her hand and smiled.
"Just follow me and you’ll find out."
Liz was briefly stunned, then rolled her eyes. She stopped pulling him and simply gestured for him to come along, her face full of excitement.
"Your niece and nephew were just born."
"What?!"
Adam froze.
"You heard me. Come or don’t, it’s up to you."
Liz grinned and walked off.
"Niece and nephew?"
Adam’s lips twitched as countless thoughts raced through his mind—but none of them made sense.
What was going on?
Room 6.
Liz stood outside the door and, when she saw Adam approaching, she nodded toward the inside before pushing it open.
Inside, two Caucasian women in their thirties were lying in separate hospital beds. They were turned slightly on their sides, gazing at the two bassinets between them with pure happiness.
Inside the bassinets—two newborns.
"Babies, your Uncle Adam Duncan is here!"
Liz burst out laughing and shoved Adam into the room.
The two new mothers immediately looked up, eyes bright with excitement.
"He’s so handsome."
"And he’s a doctor!"
"Why didn’t the sperm bank have guys like him?"
"Someone like him probably got snatched up instantly. If we hadn’t hesitated for so long, maybe we could’ve found someone just as amazing."
"No way. If the sperm bank had someone this outstanding, they would’ve been all over him—offering huge amounts of money for regular donations."
"You know, at this point, the sperm bank should just act as a matchmaking agency. Let women who want babies pick donors in person and skip all the extra hassle."
"A guy like him could make a fortune just from that alone!"
"..."
As they openly discussed him, Adam instinctively tuned out the nonsense and focused on the key details. He sighed, then pointed at them.
"Let me guess—Joey Tribbiani?"
If someone had been making serious money at a sperm bank, the only real candidates were Joey, Barney, or Leonard.
Leonard was still in school and not bold enough for that.
Barney didn’t need the cash.
That left only Joey, who used to rely on Chandler’s financial support.
"Yes!"
Liz clapped her hands, laughing. "I knew you’d figure it out!"
"You both picked Joey Tribbiani?"
Adam’s expression turned a little strange. "So, are you two...?"
"No."
One of the mothers smiled and shook her head. "We’re not a couple—we’re lifelong best friends. We’ve lived together since third grade."
(pa-tre-on: belamy20)
"That’s right."
The other mom added, "Men? Who needs them? When we wanted kids, we just bought some swimming little tadpoles."
"..."
Adam’s lips twitched.
Well, she wasn’t wrong.
"They wanted their kids to be related," Liz explained emotionally. "Now, their babies are real siblings."
"We’re not just lifelong best friends anymore—we’re family."
The two mothers exchanged a look and reached out, holding hands.
Their connection was so strong that Adam couldn’t help but suspect their "just friends" claim was a cover story.
"How did you end up choosing Joey?" Adam asked, genuinely curious.
Joey had been doing well for himself for a few years now.
That kind of gig was something he’d only do when he was struggling financially, and that had been a while ago.
"There was a time gap," one of the moms explained. "Years ago, when we first started considering this, we saw Joey’s profile. But aside from his looks and Italian heritage, there wasn’t much else appealing about him, so we crossed him off the list."
"Then, last year, we finally made our decision," the other mom added. "When we checked the donor profiles again, we saw that Joey’s information had been updated. He had gone from ‘actor’ to a real actor, even starring in Our Days. Since there weren’t any better options, we went with him."
"Heh."
Adam couldn’t help but chuckle.
So, Joey had been passed over at first, but once he became famous and updated his profile, he finally got picked.
Damn.
That’s the real ‘when you’re poor, no one cares; when you’re rich, suddenly you have long-lost relatives’ situation.
Good thing this was just a transaction.
If Joey had actually gotten them pregnant himself, he’d be stuck paying child support—while the kids were raised solely by their moms.
Wait.
This was feeling familiar.
Oh.
It was just like Ross all over again!
"You two were on the train?" Adam asked.
"Yeah," Liz answered. "Brooke almost didn’t make it—she was writing her will before surgery. Jenny didn’t want to sign it at first, but when she realized that without a will, their parents would get custody of the kids, she immediately made Brooke sign it."
"They don’t understand us," Jenny said coldly. "Even if we died, we would never let them raise our children."
Adam didn’t touch that heavy topic.
He stepped closer to the bassinets, studying the little boy and girl carefully.
Now that he looked closer, they really did resemble Joey a bit.
Ross was about to have both a son and a daughter.
But who would’ve thought that Joey—the lifelong bachelor everyone joked about—would be the first to have a boy and a girl?
Adam’s thoughts kept drifting.
Just a few sperm samples had created a set of twins.
How many of Joey’s donations were out there in New York?
Considering the sheer volume involved...
"Looks like I need to have a serious talk with Joey," Adam muttered to himself.
If he didn’t settle down soon, who knew what kind of ethical disasters might pop up in a decade or so...
Chapter 443: Shocked—Adam Can Speak These Languages?!
Medical Center.
In the hallway.
"...Yeah, that's how it is. Whether you want in or not is up to you."
Adam hung up the phone, a playful smile appearing on his face.
A prodigal son turning over a new leaf is priceless.
But in reality? Rare.
More often than not, a leopard can't change its spots.
But this is a TV drama world.
The more reality lacks something, the more this world overcompensates for it.
Will Joey become a good father when he gets older? Adam had no idea.
But in the original timeline, Barney really did turn his life around. Seeing him cradle that tiny newborn girl with a pacifier in her mouth—laughing, crying, overwhelmed with emotion—it was genuinely powerful.
"You are the love of my life, my everything, and from now on, all of me belongs to you—forever."
This was a line Barney used to pick up women—a total cliché, as fake as could be.
Barney had always believed he’d never love any woman more than he loved his own carefree lifestyle.
But karma’s a funny thing.
In the end, he "fell" for a tiny girl.
From that moment on, whenever he saw young women dressed provocatively at bars, he didn’t flirt—he lectured.
"You two, go home. Put on some decent clothes and seriously reflect on your life choices. Now, go! Call your parents. They’re probably worried sick!"
What goes around, comes around.
As a father, Barney’s biggest fear was that his beloved daughter would run into a player like he used to be.
"Daddy’s home" was no longer just a flirty catchphrase—it actually meant something now.
Another similar case? Tony Stark, aka Iron Man.
His daughter Morgan saying "I love you 3000" every night melted the heart of a lifelong playboy, transforming him into a devoted dad.
Now that Joey had suddenly gained two children out of nowhere, Adam was really looking forward to seeing how he’d handle it.
Then another thought hit him.
If all the players in this world were destined to go through the same transformation…
Hmm.
No way.
Barney, Iron Man—they were just puppets in the hands of writers and directors. No matter how much they wanted to stay wild forever, they had no choice but to play the role of the good dad when the script demanded it.
Adam was different.
He had a real soul, a mind of his own—he saw through everything!
"I control my own fate, not the heavens."
Adam muttered to himself.
"What are you talking about?"
Cristina walked over, hearing him mumbling. She looked confused. "That sounded like East Asian. You speak East Asian?"
"Is that so surprising?"
Adam snapped out of his thoughts and smiled at Cristina. "I don’t just speak East Asian—I also know Islander, South Universal, Russian, French, and even Klingon."
"No way!"
Cristina was stunned. "You know that many languages?!"
She was from South Universal herself but only spoke English.
Yet here was Adam, a born-and-raised American, speaking her native tongue.
It was bizarre.
"Languages are just tools for communication. If you want to learn one, just read the dictionary, listen, and speak more often—it’s not that hard."
Adam chuckled.
He never even tried to learn them intentionally.
Ever since his intelligence skyrocketed into super-genius territory—and kept growing—old memories kept resurfacing.
In his past life, as a die-hard geek, he had watched tons of movies in Islander, South Universal, Russian, and French. He’d absorbed tons of context without realizing it.
In this life, whenever he chatted with his friends like Peggy, Bianca, or Heather, those memories would flash in his mind from time to time.
And when he didn’t understand something? Well, with his photographic memory, he was curious enough to find out.
While his friends slept, wide-awake Adam would casually flip through entire dictionaries, memorizing every single word and phrase.
Sometimes, when the mood struck, he’d even speak in those languages.
Because honestly, some phrases just hit differently in their original language.
And just like that, Adam naturally picked up multiple languages.
Effortlessly.
"..."
Cristina regretted giving Adam another opportunity to show off. She should’ve known that, with his photographic memory, anything related to memorization was a piece of cake for him.
But something else caught her attention. "Wait—what’s Klingon?"
"Klingon is the language of the Klingon species in the sci-fi series Star Trek."
patreon:belamy20
Adam explained, "Twenty years ago, Star Trek was a nationwide craze. Hardcore fans expanded Klingon into a real language, creating official textbooks and dictionaries. Some superfans even chat in Klingon."
"You’re a Star Trek fan?"
Cristina asked, surprised.
"Not really."
Adam shook his head. "But a few of my good friends are. And since it was easy to pick up, I figured—why not? Can’t have my friends chatting in Klingon while I just sit there, right?"
"You guys talk in Klingon? Why?"
Cristina was baffled by the ridiculousness of it.
Language was invented to break barriers, to help people communicate.
So why go out of your way to create a weird, obscure one?
Wasn’t English good enough?
"It’s fun."
Adam grinned. "In certain situations, a unique language makes things more immersive. Plus, knowing more languages is never a bad thing.
Imagine if you and Meredith both knew Klingon.
Whenever you were around Dr. Burke or Dr. Shepherd and wanted to talk privately, you wouldn’t need to sneak off to the restroom—you could just chat in Klingon right in front of them!
They wouldn’t understand a word. Wouldn’t that be hilarious?"
"..."
Cristina’s mouth twitched. After a long pause, she muttered, "Lame."
"Heh."
Adam chuckled. "You just don’t get it."
Sheldon and Leonard speaking Klingon vs. Penny and Amy using their own secret language.
Everyone who saw it loved it.
"What are you doing?"
Adam looked at Cristina, puzzled.
"Just checking out what kind of hands these are."
Cristina held his hands, examining them closely.
"You heard about it?"
Adam realized what was going on and let her take a look.
"Of course!"
Cristina exclaimed. "Not only did I hear about it, but I also watched the surgery footage. I knew you were incredible—everyone does—but the way you performed in that OR? Insane!
A fatal injury, and you literally saved the guy with your hands alone. What are these—healing hands? Hands of God?"
"You’re not so bad yourself."
Adam teased, "Didn’t you pick up the 'Right Leg of God' from attending rounds today?"
"..."
Cristina rolled her eyes so hard they almost got stuck. She looked utterly offended.
Chapter 444: I Want It All
Medical Center.
Hallway.
"Are you serious?"
Christina rolled her eyes.
"My bad," Adam said with an apologetic smile.
Jokes were fun, but there had to be a limit.
"Speaking of that right leg, it still pisses me off!"
Christina was immediately reminded of an unpleasant memory and couldn’t help but complain, "I thought assisting the Chief on a major thigh reconstruction would be a great opportunity, but who would’ve guessed I’d almost get fired for it? Seriously, what the hell!"
Earlier that night...
When the first wave of train accident victims arrived, even Richard, the Chief of Surgery—who wasn’t on call—rushed in from home to take over a case where a patient had a severed right leg.
Christina managed to beat out George for the assistant spot and was thrilled to work under the Chief, a man who essentially held her career in his hands. It was a golden opportunity.
As the Chief and the team administered anesthesia to the patient, Christina meticulously cleaned the severed leg, ensuring every speck of dust and gravel was removed.
The wound was spotless.
Perfect pre-op prep!
But just as the Chief instructed her to deliver the severed leg for surgery, she noticed something horrifying—
The foot on the detached limb was facing the wrong way.
It was a left leg.
The patient on the table was missing his right leg.
Seconds later, she was being yelled at and kicked out of the OR to go find the correct leg.
She searched the ambulance, but it was nowhere to be found.
She called emergency responders on-site, only to be hung up on or ridiculed:
"The train derailed, slammed into a bridge, tore through the dining car, and embedded itself in another passenger car. People were literally decapitated. Your guy missing a right leg isn’t our priority. So, move. You’re in the way!"
Honestly, she couldn’t even blame them for being so blunt.
She’d walked in acting like a superior surgeon when she should’ve been asking for help. Everyone knew about the hierarchy in medicine—
And paramedics, sitting at the bottom of that chain, were especially sensitive to it. Sometimes, a single condescending look was enough to set someone off.
Desperate, Christina even went to Burke for help, hoping her ex would cut her some slack.
He was busy too.
He shut her down. Hard.
Finally, she found a severed leg in a trash bin and rushed it back to the OR like she had discovered buried treasure.
Except...
It was the wrong gender this time.
Smoothly shaved, toenails painted—definitely not from her male patient.
She got screamed at again and was sent out to keep searching.
The Chief was an untouchable big shot, and crossing him could kill her career before it even started.
She was panicking.
In the end, Adam—watching this disaster unfold—made a single phone call.
Suddenly, the paramedics started caring. The real severed leg was found and delivered just in time.
Connections.
Officially? They didn’t have to listen to her.
But off the record? A friend asking for a favor took priority.
And at the end of the day, bosses didn’t care how you solved a problem.
They only cared that you got it done.
"So, did the Chief at least give you some credit in the end?" Adam asked.
"Yeah, he did." Christina smirked, her frustration fading. "Thanks, Adam."
"No problem." Adam chuckled.
They chatted about the day’s cases for a bit before parting ways.
Christina wasn’t like Adam. Once the adrenaline of surgery wore off, exhaustion hit her like a truck. She barely made it to the on-call room before passing out.
Adam, however, had another stop to make.
The Nursery.
Joey had been dragged from his date by Monica and the gang.
"OMG!"
"OMG!"
Through the nursery window, everyone stared in shock as Adam pointed out Joey’s newborn twins.
"Two little Joeys!"
Monica and Rachel pressed against the glass, eyes filled with love.
"OMG..." Joey muttered, still processing.
Yeah.
He knew this could happen.
When he made his big donation at the sperm bank years ago, he’d been warned.
Back then, he didn’t care. If women were choosing him, that was flattering!
patreon:belamy20
He even updated his file later, just to make sure everyone knew:
Joey Tribbiani—TV Star. Absolutely top-tier.
But now?
Actually standing in front of his two kids?
Completely different feeling.
Not caring?
Not his problem?
Yeah, right.
Those adorable little babies looked just like him! They were his kids!
Joey Tribbiani was a father.
"They’re adorable," Phoebe gushed.
"Ross, getting déjà vu?" Chandler smirked. "You and Joey are the same now."
Ross shot his best friend a glare. "You should be more worried about yourself."
He motioned toward Monica, who was practically melting over the babies.
Chandler went pale. His eyes darted to Adam in silent desperation.
Adam patted Chandler on the shoulder, giving him a knowing good luck gesture.
Ever since Adam had pointed out that Monica and Chandler would struggle to conceive, Chandler’s life had been... challenging.
Competitive, obsessive, and baby-crazy—Monica had not taken it well.
Adam had received multiple calls from Chandler, whispering in panic from the bathroom.
The moment he tried to rest?
Monica was banging on the door.
Adam had explained, medically, that Chandler needed breaks. It had helped—a little.
But after tonight?
Chandler was not sleeping.
Being a man was hard.
Being a married man pushing forty? Even harder.
"Joey, what are you gonna do?" Rachel finally asked.
Everyone turned to Joey.
"I... I don’t know." Joey lifted his hands helplessly, his face a mix of confusion and dread.
"Well, first, you need to change your lifestyle." Adam grinned. "Who knows how many more kids are out there? Ten years from now, if you’re still hitting on every woman in New York, you might wanna do a thorough family background check before making a move."
"Ew!"
The whole gang groaned.
"Do I even have a choice?" Joey asked, defeated.
"No!" everyone shouted.
"This isn’t like jam and hot women, Joey. You can’t have both." Ross smirked.
Adam blinked.
Oh.
He almost forgot.
Back when Monica lost her job, she went through a jam-making phase. Joey, being Joey, loved it.
Chandler had once asked him: "If you had to choose—hot women or a giant jar of jam?"
Joey had grinned and said, "Duh! Both."
Guess he really hadn’t changed after all...
