As much as I’d grown to despise some people over my life, that was more of a passive “this guy is an idiot” or “he hasn’t paid me back the tenner I loaned him a few years ago”. Few people could bring out an anger in me quite like Hobbs.

Even if you ignored the snobby remarks he made about people he thought were beneath him, ‘These damn idiots always complaining about being poor, maybe if they spent less time shooting up themselves and other people they’d actually amount to something’ or the constant snide remarks he’d made to me over the years about my mothers condition in the Quarantine Ward, These people are goners, even the company offering to heal them is just serving up a crock of shit, honestly you’re best bet is to just let her go and move on kid. Or the stupid fucking look on his face whenever he was asked a question too ‘poor’ for him to understand, I don’t understand what a removable magilock even is, my car came with the new Faxi-Lock built in. Doctors are usually some of the more compassionate people I’d ever met, but Hobbs shattered that image years ago.

There was probably an avenue I could’ve gone through back then, maybe report him to the board or whatever administrators take care of issues like this. But I was never raised as a snitch, and working around the people I had for the last few years had cemented that into steel.

As I walked through the main entrance to the hospital I hoped to completely bypass him and make it to the front counter, where I could meet up with an actual doctor instead of having to talk to the idiot currently flirting with a much younger nurse.

Isn’t he married? Fucker can’t even have one redeeming quality can he?

As I walked past him he noticed me, possibly not realizing it was me due to the cane. And called out to me, “Mark you doing alright? I don’t think I have ever seen you with a cast let alone a cane!”

God damnit.

Turning back towards him I flashed a small, fake smile, and replied back “I just got some magic stuff bumped into me at work, hoping the doctors will drain it out and be done with it, you know?” before I turned away from him. “Have a good day Hobbs.” God forbid you make me happy by dying early.

As I walked past him and moved towards the counter and towards the small receptionist behind the counter. The building here was my main preference for doctors visits even if it's an extra twenty minutes of driving to get so deep into the city. The main reason for this is because it also doubles as the place where my mother is, and being that I don’t get to visit her as much as I’d like already it’s nice to fit in a visit whenever I can.

The receptionist was a nice enough lady, Jane I think, a good foot shorter than me and easily a hundred pounds wet. Face like an excited puppy that got happy at the smallest things with small blue eyes and a smile that never disappeared. She always had that giddy happiness you’d only see in children, even when pushing thirty. ‘How are you doing Mark? I heard you were finally able to get a car. I'm so happy for you!’ ‘You should try yoga, It always helps me and my daughter when we are stressed’ ‘Oh goodness how’d you get that cut on your arm? Nasty bit of business, isn’t it?’. Even with everything in my life constantly getting worse she was always a nice ray of sunshine that could make my day slightly better, if she wasn’t married I probably would have asked her out for coffee. Albeit she’s probably out of my league by a good margin.

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Looking up at me she gave me her trademarked smile and asked me “Are you here to see your mother again? You haven't been back in a while. I was worried something had happened to you!”

Flashing as good a smile as I had I gestured with my new cane, “I actually came here to see my doctor, got an appointment about a bit of a magic incident. I had it a few days ago, injured my knee and it isn’t fixing itself back up like I am used to.”

At the comment about it not healing like normal she got this little face she always had whenever she heard something that worried her, almost like a puppy worried you’d hurt yourself while playing with it. Jane was always rather easy to read, even for me, which helped when trying to navigate around questions you'd rather not answer truthfully.

Always love talking to Jane, it’s a nice break from the constant stress of the job.

“Well, hopefully the hospital can do something about that! It’s never a good thing to injure your knees, you need those more than your hands!” She replied sweetly.

“I think I need both for my work, but I get what you mean.” I laughed as she began pinging the doctor on the computer she was sitting beside.

As I stood there and waited a small ping sounded out of a message being sent, and she closed the notification before looking back up at me.

“The doctor is in, apparently he was waiting for you to show up. Good luck dear!” she said before giving me a slip of pink paper.

Magical Injuries Ward - Room 112 - Doctor H.

“Alright, thank you Jane, I’ll see you on my way out.” as I spoke I walked towards the Magical Injuries ward to my right. With how prominent magic had gotten as of late normal injuries were only rivaled by magical ones nowadays, people coming in with fevers have a 50/50 chance of having contracted it by misusing something they weren’t supposed to and getting dosed by a small amount of the stuff.

As I kept walking I passed a few nurses who gave me the side eye. I think I recognized them from previous visits, probably just concerned over my cane. I hope so anyways. Along the walls were the typical hospital and doctors office things, “Don’t touch active magic engines, and if you do call an ambulance” “An apple a day keeps the doctors away!” “We thank our brave hospital staff for working with us, and you should too!” etcetera.

Near the end of the hall was room 112, and after knocking twice the door was opened.

Inside the room was a single doctor, and the woman who I probably spent more time with than my own mother or girlfriend lately, Doctor Giani. Larger than you’d expect a doctor to be, she stood at a flat 7 feet tall, with small but noticeable muscles that decorated most of her body. While she wasn’t the most powerful of Bruisers the world had created in the aftermath of the invasion she was certainly stronger than me. And while I had never been there to see it happen I had heard from Jane on a few visits that Giani tended to get to ‘rowdy’ patients long before security did, and considering I had never seen her bear a scratch or any bandages it was safe to say she wasn’t the one taking a beating during the altercations.

Most of Giani’s face was as normal as you’d expect of an older woman like her, round, puffy cheeks, two eyes, the most remarkable thing about her besides her height and build was her skin dyed as black as coal. Whether this was a normal skin tone or not I never asked, but I have met my fair share of people from every color and ethnicity, from white to black, red to blue, and I never once met someone with skin that looked so dark.

Giani was a cold woman, she tended to only the bare minimum during my visits, which suits me fine I am not exactly here to discuss my diet or anything, but it does get a little awkward trying to hold a conversation with a woman who’s only answers are “I guess so” or “That seems to be the case”. I pity the man who married her if she acts the same way at home that she does at work because he probably has incurable blue balls.

Definitely no cure for that.

As I walked in I picked out a small black chair and sat down on it slowly and waited.

As the good doctor finally seemed to notice my presence she looked at me and uttered words that’d haunt my dreams that would probably haunt my dreams for the rest of my life.

“We need to talk about the damage to your soul, Markus”