Sequel: love in the time of trash fires ›
mobster mash
one
“Oh, for gods sake.”
Athena Winters frowned at her lab coat, which had once been a crisp white. Somehow her father had gotten it mixed in with his ridiculous colorful socks and now it was a strange sort of tye-dye. She sighed and set it aside, grabbing a different one from her closet and shrugging it on before tying her pale blonde hair back in a swishy ponytail. The bright white coat seemed out of place in her room, covered in pastel wallpaper and fairy lights strung around her four poster bed. The room read more “fairy princess” than “mob doctor.”
But that’s what Athena was; or at least what her father was. Dr. Michael Winters had been fired from the prestigious hospital where he’d once been a renowned surgeon because he treated a sick child with an experimental treatment, after his bosses had told him to let the kid die. The parents had begged for help, so Athena’s father had helped them. The child lived, but Dr. Winters was treated like a criminal. So he’d come here to the criminal-infested neighborhoods known affectionately as The Bleak. Realistically each neighborhood was more like its own small city within the massive city of Cerora.
The city was actually a chunk of a continent; it had once been the northeastern section of the United States but a long time ago continents had been shaken apart by intense shifting of tectonic plates during efforts to create underwater cities. From what was left, people made their own little city-nations. Cerora technically had a government and law enforcement, though most of it was corrupt. In The Bleak, everything was pretty much run by an assortment of mobs and gangs and the area was full of casinos and bars. Different packs of bad guys ran different chunks of territory, and most of the cops that “patrolled” here were on someone’s payroll. Though sometimes it was hard to see much difference between the mob bosses and the elected officials, so Athena was never sure it mattered.
The Bleak was a seedy place, but it was the only real home Athena knew. Her father had brought her here when she was just five years old, and he had trained her in anatomy and medicine so she could assist him with patching up gangsters who’d been shot, stabbed, or come down with pneumonia. In return, the shifty people who ran this particular territory offered them protection and didn’t cause them problems. They would also get them supplies and medicine they needed. Athena and her father were as well stocked as a real hospital, helping anyone who came to them needing it. Their apartment was above the medical office ber father had set up, and Athena now rode the elevator down to the makeshift hospital.
Michael was already at work, doing an inventory of what medicines they had on hand. He was humming loudly along with the music he was listening to, which was overly tuned bubblegum pop anthem. Athena walked over and held up her brightly colored lab coat.
“Morning, my angel,” Michael said cheerfully. “I like the new look. Maybe we should do all the lab coats like that.”
“This wasn’t intentional, Dad. It’s the result of you washing my coat with your ridiculous socks.”
She pointed accusingly at the pair of bright orange and blue socks she could see peeking out under his pants. They were covered in little octopi.
“Sorry,” he laughed. “But come on, it looks pretty cool.”
“What would a man with octopus socks know about cool? Just because you listen to Janna James and her sugary sweet lyrics doesn’t make you hip.”
“Replacing hips is what makes me hip,” Michael grinned and Athena rolled her eyes.
“God, you’re impossible,” she groaned. Her dad stood up to squeeze her shoulders and plant a kiss on the top of her head.
“I have someone coming in for a follow up on their gallbladder procedure at ten, and then I have to deliver some prescriptions. Can you handle anyone that comes in while I’m busy?”
“You know I can. If there’s anything I can’t handle, I’ll call you.”
“That’s my good girl. Finish sorting these for me while I get ready for my patient. You’re better at organizing than I am.”
“That’s just you trying to butter me up because you’re making me do pill counts.”
“You know me too well. Love you honey.”
He was already speeding out the door. Athena rolled her eyes but she was smiling a little as she sat down to finish inventory. Her life was really weird here in The Bleak, but she really wouldn’t trade it for anything. She loved working with her dad and patching up wounds. She’d never been scared of blood or needles and had no problem sewing up a bunch of shady criminals. She’d worked on her first cadaver at six and removed her first bullet when she was only eleven. And she’d heard enough wild stories to write a book, and probably every pick up line in existence too.
She felt oddly happy here in this seedy city surrounded by illegal bot fighters, street racers, hitmen, and gamblers. A lot of people respected her father and the help he provided, keeping people in one piece when they couldn’t risk going to a proper hospital. Athena and her father didn’t ask nosy questions, and they’d even help people who couldn’t pay them in money. They’d once accepted a year of free calzones as payment for reattaching a severed pinkie.
Athena finished with the medicine inventory and put everything away, adjusting her ponytail before she went out into the front office. Her father was already in the operating room with his patient; a casino owner who’d had to have his gallbladder removed. Athena sat down to wait on a new patient; there’d likely be one before long. There was never a dull moment around here.
Athena Winters frowned at her lab coat, which had once been a crisp white. Somehow her father had gotten it mixed in with his ridiculous colorful socks and now it was a strange sort of tye-dye. She sighed and set it aside, grabbing a different one from her closet and shrugging it on before tying her pale blonde hair back in a swishy ponytail. The bright white coat seemed out of place in her room, covered in pastel wallpaper and fairy lights strung around her four poster bed. The room read more “fairy princess” than “mob doctor.”
But that’s what Athena was; or at least what her father was. Dr. Michael Winters had been fired from the prestigious hospital where he’d once been a renowned surgeon because he treated a sick child with an experimental treatment, after his bosses had told him to let the kid die. The parents had begged for help, so Athena’s father had helped them. The child lived, but Dr. Winters was treated like a criminal. So he’d come here to the criminal-infested neighborhoods known affectionately as The Bleak. Realistically each neighborhood was more like its own small city within the massive city of Cerora.
The city was actually a chunk of a continent; it had once been the northeastern section of the United States but a long time ago continents had been shaken apart by intense shifting of tectonic plates during efforts to create underwater cities. From what was left, people made their own little city-nations. Cerora technically had a government and law enforcement, though most of it was corrupt. In The Bleak, everything was pretty much run by an assortment of mobs and gangs and the area was full of casinos and bars. Different packs of bad guys ran different chunks of territory, and most of the cops that “patrolled” here were on someone’s payroll. Though sometimes it was hard to see much difference between the mob bosses and the elected officials, so Athena was never sure it mattered.
The Bleak was a seedy place, but it was the only real home Athena knew. Her father had brought her here when she was just five years old, and he had trained her in anatomy and medicine so she could assist him with patching up gangsters who’d been shot, stabbed, or come down with pneumonia. In return, the shifty people who ran this particular territory offered them protection and didn’t cause them problems. They would also get them supplies and medicine they needed. Athena and her father were as well stocked as a real hospital, helping anyone who came to them needing it. Their apartment was above the medical office ber father had set up, and Athena now rode the elevator down to the makeshift hospital.
Michael was already at work, doing an inventory of what medicines they had on hand. He was humming loudly along with the music he was listening to, which was overly tuned bubblegum pop anthem. Athena walked over and held up her brightly colored lab coat.
“Morning, my angel,” Michael said cheerfully. “I like the new look. Maybe we should do all the lab coats like that.”
“This wasn’t intentional, Dad. It’s the result of you washing my coat with your ridiculous socks.”
She pointed accusingly at the pair of bright orange and blue socks she could see peeking out under his pants. They were covered in little octopi.
“Sorry,” he laughed. “But come on, it looks pretty cool.”
“What would a man with octopus socks know about cool? Just because you listen to Janna James and her sugary sweet lyrics doesn’t make you hip.”
“Replacing hips is what makes me hip,” Michael grinned and Athena rolled her eyes.
“God, you’re impossible,” she groaned. Her dad stood up to squeeze her shoulders and plant a kiss on the top of her head.
“I have someone coming in for a follow up on their gallbladder procedure at ten, and then I have to deliver some prescriptions. Can you handle anyone that comes in while I’m busy?”
“You know I can. If there’s anything I can’t handle, I’ll call you.”
“That’s my good girl. Finish sorting these for me while I get ready for my patient. You’re better at organizing than I am.”
“That’s just you trying to butter me up because you’re making me do pill counts.”
“You know me too well. Love you honey.”
He was already speeding out the door. Athena rolled her eyes but she was smiling a little as she sat down to finish inventory. Her life was really weird here in The Bleak, but she really wouldn’t trade it for anything. She loved working with her dad and patching up wounds. She’d never been scared of blood or needles and had no problem sewing up a bunch of shady criminals. She’d worked on her first cadaver at six and removed her first bullet when she was only eleven. And she’d heard enough wild stories to write a book, and probably every pick up line in existence too.
She felt oddly happy here in this seedy city surrounded by illegal bot fighters, street racers, hitmen, and gamblers. A lot of people respected her father and the help he provided, keeping people in one piece when they couldn’t risk going to a proper hospital. Athena and her father didn’t ask nosy questions, and they’d even help people who couldn’t pay them in money. They’d once accepted a year of free calzones as payment for reattaching a severed pinkie.
Athena finished with the medicine inventory and put everything away, adjusting her ponytail before she went out into the front office. Her father was already in the operating room with his patient; a casino owner who’d had to have his gallbladder removed. Athena sat down to wait on a new patient; there’d likely be one before long. There was never a dull moment around here.