Born to Fly

Victorious - ✔

"Jim suggested I choose one or the other, so I quit my job at the hospital." Though, it's not as if I had a choice.

"But weren't you at the hospital to fulfill your good quota?" Oswald inquires.

"I was, but now understand that I'm doing more good in the family than I ever could there."

They don't get it, but at least Butch tries to be supportive. "Whatever works for you then—"

"Sera! Just the woman I've been looking for." Carmine practically waltzes into the club. He brushes the snow off of his hat and hangs it on the coat rack. "I stopped by the hospital, but you weren't there."

"You must've barely missed me," I say. "I was just there. What can I do for you, Don Falcone?"

"I'm afraid there's been a little skirmish. My men should be arriving now. I didn't want you to walk back and be blindsided."

"Oh, well thank you." I try to ignore the knot in my throat.

"Has she told you about her surprise yet, sir?" Oswald has to say something, doesn't he?

The boss shakes his head. "No, she hasn't. Sera, mind telling me what this surprise is?"

I shoot Oswald a sideways glance. "I quit my job at the hospital to be here full-time, as you suggested."

"This is a surprise! I'm delighted you chose the family. I'm assuming this means Jim's in on the secret."

"I told him last night."

"And was he at all supportive?"

"Well, not really—"

Carmine waves it off, wrapping a warm arm around my shoulder. "We're your family now, and we support you."

"I mean, he still loves me. I believe he's planning on ignoring that side of me."

I'm not sure how to take their reactions. None of them can fathom love being stronger than whatever bond the gang calls family. Either way, I'm glad we move on from it.

"Still, that's such great news. I know I speak on behalf of every single member of your new family when I say that we are so glad you've truly joined us."

"Indeed," Oswald says in agreement.

With a fatherly pat on my back, Carmine disperses the group. Butch and Cobblepot open the club while Falcone and I travel back to the warehouse.

"A little skirmish?" My eyes take to the overflow of walking gunshot wounds.

"It is what it is. I trust you can handle this?"

As I did before, I run back up the stairs to address the crowd. "Okay, guys. We're going to do this just like last time. Minor injuries settle upstairs. Serious injuries stay downstairs. Everyone get comfortable. I'll be around to you shortly."

The heat of Faclone's eyes flushes my cheeks. The pounding of feet and scraping trash cans soothe my nerves.

"You have a good system out here," he comments.

"Things weren't getting done quickly enough," I say. "It needed a little order."

"And you've done exactly that." His smile remains. "I'll be off. I certainly don't want to keep you from your work."

"Thanks, Boss. You're welcome to stay."

From the look in his eyes, I can tell he'd rather be anywhere than this cesspool. "No thank you. There's a reason I'm not the doctor."