Stories from the Concrete Jungle

Part Five - The Remembering

She would be lying if she said it had been easy.

One would think it would be easy, to live in a house full of good looking men who happened to assist her in every single need, to not need to work and simply be paid to exist, to lounge around on the beach all day, or sit and read all day, or do utterly nothing all day.

It wasn't easy though.

Kendra found it extremely hard, actually.

Therapy sucked. Physical therapy sucked even more. And the thought that a whole five years of her life was simply gone sucked a lot.

Being told that supernaturals existed really sucked, too. They had been nice enough while they explained it all to them, even after her freak out and subsequent nap she had after, and even after she had threatened them all with kitchen knives, they had been kind about it. Understanding even.

Even after she had shut down and blocked them out again, they were gentle about it, and gave her the space she had thought she needed. They allowed her to heal in whatever fucked up, lonely way she had decided on.

It was Noah who had come in and sat at her bedside and explained everything to her. Nick was a werewolf, who could control his changing except during the full moon.

"That's the only cliche part," Noah had chuckled. Kendra had only stared at him, tears in her eyes.

It turned out that Jolly was a Nephilim, a child of a human and an archangel, who harnessed righteous holy power, and it was he who brought Kendra back to life, and out of her following coma. She had stared down at the veins in her arms when Noah explained that one to her, imagining the blood flowing from Jolly into her arm, the pearlescent quality of it as Noah explained.

"And Nicholas is a witch. He can control and manipulate flames, he's a telepath, and he can do countless other things too," Noah said calmly.

"He put me to sleep," Kendra muttered towards her clasped hands.

Noah looked down at her hands, too, and settled one of his over hers.

"I asked him to do it," Noah admitted quietly. Kendra nodded. She knew why he did it, not because he was controlling or manipulative, but because he cared for her and was worried about her. She undid her hands and flipped one to hold onto his hand.

"Did we have a lot of good memories?" she asked quietly after some time, and Noah smiled sadly.

"Lots," he replied.

†††

It was silly of Kendra to shut them back out after the episode in the kitchen. But like always, they respected her.

"Where is Teagan?" Kendra asked one afternoon as Noah leaned on the doorframe, asking if she needed anything before he left for work for the evening, since his time off had come to an end. She ignored the sword sticking out from over his shoulder, and his black long sleeve shirt, tight pants, and the boots on his feet.

She would never admit it, to him, to anyone, but herself. He looked really good, hot even.

"She's probably at the tea shop, working," Noah said gently.

"I should probably get her phone number," Kendra replied, glancing down at her hands so she wouldn't stare at him and drool into her lap.

"I'll take care of it for you," Noah said, and he pushed off from the door frame.

The next day, Teagan appeared, setting an iced matcha latte and a brownie in front of her face as she stared out into the Pacific Ocean, her head laying on the patio table, Noah's hoodie covering her body from the offshore breeze.