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“Honey? Honey-bunny?”
“Daddy?” It hurt to speak. Her throat felt like she had swallowed sandpaper,
“Hudson! Your sister’s awake. Go get the doctor, hurry.” Captain Cynane shouted, and turned back to his daughter with a softer tone, “Honey, I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”
“I’m sorry. I did it again.” She sobbed.
“None of that matters now. You’re safe and he’s dead.”
“He’s dead?”
“Yeah, honey-bunny, you got him.” He smiled.
“I got...” But as the doctor sprinted into the hospital room, she felt herself slipping, her body started to convulse under its own free will. She didn’t fight it. She closed her eyes, listening to the voices fading in the distance.
“What’s happening?” Demanded Captain Cynane.
“She’s going into cardiac arrest.” The medic pressed resuscitators on her chest and counted down. “We’re a go on one, two, three!”
Her long, slim frame arched violently from the bed. The lights in the hospital flickered behind her closed eyelids, sparked, and then shut off completely.
“We’ve lost power!” Someone hollered.
“Is she okay? Is my baby okay?” Captain Cynane yelled again, at no one in particular.
Prying her eyes open, she watched silent tears stream down her father’s face, something she’d only ever seen once before; at her mother’s funeral. “Cry it out and let it go ...” she whispered before a wave of fatigue broke over her then swept her under.
SOMETHING QUITE BIZARRE happened when she opened her eyes again... colour. The pea-green of her brother’s plaid shirt practically accosted her eyes; the magenta hues of the faux flowers on the nightstand; the crimson red in her father’s eyes as he stared at her. It was like a switch had been flipped and every colour was illuminated. It overwhelmed her. She shut her eyes again, tightly.
“Leona?”
“I’m having a pretty bad day.” She whispered.
“You had a bad day about a week ago, Leona. You’ve been in a coma.”
“What?” was all she could croak, her eyes flying open.
He rubbed his neck and yawned loudly. “The doctors say you’ve been infected with something, but they can’t figure it out.”
Images flooded her mind. She remembered the brief conversation she’d had with Stealth before their tussle. He’d said that Minute Magic was from his blood, blood she ingested when he collapsed on top of her. A lot of it. It must have worked its way out of my system.
“Can’t I leave now? I don’t wanna be here” Sitting up gingerly, she picked at the I.V. that they had stuck in her vein, the tube securely taped to her skin.
She felt the warmth of her father’s bear claw of a hand, as he gently covered over her own, to stop her from pulling out the needle. “Did I ever tell you how your mother and I met?”
“Dad, don’t. I can’t think about her right now.” She swallowed, turning away.
Ignoring her weak protests, he continued. “I had a day off and thought I’d go to a movie. When I got there and saw all these couples holding hands I felt down on myself for being alone. I did consider leaving, until the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen tapped me on the shoulder and told me she was alone too, so we might as well see the flick together. After that night I knew I wanted to spend every night with her for the rest of my life.”
“You’ve told me that story a hundred times, dad.”
“Yes. But what I never told you is why your mother was there in the first place. She’d been involved in an unauthorized high-speed chase with a gang of rebels; hydroplaned into their car and killed them all. Internal Affairs verified that it was an undisputed accident with zero malicious intent. But it really crushed your mother. The fact of the matter is, her superior told her not to go in the first place, and she disobeyed orders. The only reason she was at the movies that night was that her Captain had placed her on a three-month suspension. And she had nowhere else to be the next day.”
“I never knew that...”
“When your mother got pregnant with you and the doctors told us we were having a girl, I was terrified. I didn’t know the first thing about having a daughter, I figured I could raise you the same as them,” he nodded over to her three burly brothers squished together, asleep on the couch. “But I should’ve read a book or something because I was completely wrong. I don’t know why you feel the need to go to the extreme, Leona. Maybe it’s my fault for not telling you I’m proud of you enough or pushing you too hard at work. I know I don’t always show it in the best way, but I do love you.
“There’s nothing I can say, not as your Captain or as your father, to stop you from doing what you think is right. All I ask is that you remember your mother’s cautionary tale. Look at your brothers, and look at me, and see how we’ve suffered with her gone.”
“I never wanted to hurt you guys,” she choked, her voice thick. “I’ve only ever wanted to keep you safe, to keep everybody safe.” She bit the inside of her cheek so she wouldn’t cry.
“I know, honey-bunny. But how about you focus on keeping yourself safe from now on, huh?”
TWENTY-THREE DAYS PASSED before the doctors authorized her release from the hospital. Spending the time with her family had been great; the bad news was that she had carelessly forgotten to pay rent on her apartment. Coupled with the fact that she was already two months behind and annoying reporters had apparently been camped outside of her building every day waiting for her to return, her landlord swiftly evicted her.
Her father had insisted she move back home until she found a new place. He had even fixed up her childhood room. It still reeked of cheap incense, the same faded posters of famous female cops still taped haphazardly above her bed. The same baby-blue bedspread her mother knit lay atop the dresser, neatly folded.
She turned at the rapping on the door, interrupting her reminiscence, to see her father’s smiling face appear around the frame. “I’ve made a list.”
He handed her a tablet. “A list of what?” she asked, scrolling down the page.
“House rules. Showers are timed for ten minutes max. After using a dish you must wash it immediately. I don’t want half-eaten food hanging out in the sink. There will be no men in this house, except your brothers. And even then, you gotta call and let me know ahead of time. Laundry day is...”
She tuned him out. “Is this a joke?”
“No, and don’t interrupt me. Trash day and recycling day are separate, so I need you to...”
He prattled on for an exasperating twenty minutes. By the end of his spiel, she was ready for another nap though it was barely noon. “If you forget, check the tablet, or just ask.” He finally finished.
“Gee, thanks.” She said rolling her eyes, feeling fourteen instead of twenty-four, locking the door behind him after he left. Of course, he ran his house the same way he ran his police precinct; ‘Hospital Dad’ and ‘Home Dad’ weren’t all that different, after all.
She made for her bathroom and filled the tub. One of the nurses had recommended water submersion and quiet meditation whenever she felt anxious. It had worked for the most part. The only other odd symptom she was still experiencing besides the intense colour saturation was her extraordinarily high heart rate. Even as she laid in the comfort of a steaming hot bath, safe and sound under her father’s overly protective roof, her heart pounded so hard against her ribcage she swore she could hear it.
Her hologram transmitter buzzed. “Kennedy?” The dapper young man’s image popped up on her bathroom wall, smiling his cheeky smile.
“Hello, warrior princess. I heard what happened to you, and I wanted to check-in. Did I catch you at a bad time?”
“No, it’s fine. Umm... I’m doing okay. Thanks.”
“That’s good to hear.” He fussed with his hair, and nervously cleared his throat, “I also called to say I’m so sorry.”
“You have no reason to be sorry.”
“But I do. I didn’t take you out there to help you arrest Stealth, I took you there because I was craving more drugs. Actually, I'm calling you from rehab right now. There’s probably a hundred people here trying to recover from Minute Magic.”
“Wow! Well, it’s good you’re getting help, Kennedy.” She noticed new light in his bright hazel eyes, no longer haggard or sleep-deprived.
“Thank you for risking your life. Please, let me know if there’s ever anything you need.”
“It’s funny you should say that...”
A half an hour later she’d brushed her long hair up in a knot, changed into a black tracksuit, and repacked all her bags. She found her father in his office, with a cigar in his mouth undoubtedly working on a case while off duty. She’d always loved this room, with its oversized faux oak furniture and portraits of military vets from the Red War; a virtual shrine of reverence and glory to his fallen heroes. It felt different after hearing Stealth’s story about the devious way the war was won. She couldn’t help but question everything she thought she knew about why Supernaturals were there—moreover, why some have been fighting so hard to leave.
She hesitated in the doorway before entering, “Daddy? Hey, are you busy?”
“Always,” he said removing his reading specs and frowning. “Why are you carrying luggage?”
“I’m moving out.”
“Already?! For Hera’s sake, Leona you just got here!”
“Yeah... umm, this isn’t gonna work. I think we’ve established you’re a rules-person, and I’m a no-rules person. We’ve been getting on so good lately, I don’t wanna mess it up by living together.”
“I guess I can understand that.” He sighed. “Where are you going and how in the world are you going to pay for it?”
“A friend of mine is helping me out.”
“A friend? A guy friend? Leona don’t—”
“Daddy, stop.” She interrupted before he could get started with a lecture, placing her hands on her hips. “You’re proving my point – this is exactly why I have to leave. I’m a slob and I can’t remember the last time I recycled, dad. I need my own place or I’ll drive you mad.”
He chuckled and nodded in agreement, albeit reluctantly.
“I love you, and after I get settled, I want you, and everyone else to come by for a housewarming party, or whatever you call them.” She didn’t give him a chance to argue, as she pecked his square jaw, collected her belongings, and skipped out the front door.
One anxious train stop later she arrived in front of her new condo building, Lantern Lodgings. On the border of Sectors A-1 and B-2, the area was upper-middle-class in all its glory. The exterior of the hive-like high-rise was an attractive mélange of dark steel and ten-foot bay windows protruding from each unit. The entrance was lined with faux fuchsias. An elderly doorman, who introduced himself as Edgar, ushered her into the gaudy lobby where a hybrid front desk attendant welcomes her warmly.
“Yes, ma’am. I- I’m moving into... umm, unit 229.” She stuttered, feeling underdressed and out of place.
“Oh, right! 229. You're leased under Kennedy Horne, correct?”
“That’s correct.” She felt her cheeks getting hot.
“How long have you two been seeing each other?”
“Oh, no, no, we’re not a couple,” she added hastily, “we’re just friends. I think. I’m pretty sure. I don’t know what we are if I’m being honest.”
The chirpy bespectacled woman’s eyebrows knit, ever so briefly, at Leona’s inappropriate over-sharing, before the professional smile returned. Refraining from further questioning, she scanned Leona’s fingerprints for verification, gave her the number to their concierge service—because of course there’s a concierge service—and passed her a key card.
When Leona finally opened the door to her new digs, the sight took her breath away. A fully furnished loft, it could easily fit two of her old apartments inside it. Dumping her meagre luggage in the entrance, she meandered gaping at the ostentation; fluted cabinetry throughout the kitchen, white marble floors in the bathroom, pricey abstract art adorning the walls. The pale pistachio couches didn’t even have the usual bum imprints indented on them, meaning it would be the first time she hasn’t own soiled, second-hand furniture. She wandered into her bedroom and playfully dove into the plush feather duvet. “Who’s sleeping on Egyptian cotton sheets now, Ms Ever?” she joked to herself with a chuckle.
She wanted to call a friend to come over and celebrate this huge win, but she couldn’t think of a single person or Supernatural she wanted to be around. Everyone she talked to was either a co-worker or informant. Her good mood immediately crashed and burned, as she realized no-one had bothered to visit her in the hospital, either. All of the grand deeds she had performed to save the citizens of Casperson, and she had nothing to show for it. Well, nothing except an obscenely chic home.
She was rummaging around the kitchen for booze to fuel her pity party when an unexpected knock on the door stopped her cold. She reached for her holstered weapon, then groaned, remembering it’d been confiscated because she’d been suspended.
“Who is it?”
“Wyatt.”
“Who? I don’t know any—wait.” She rushed to the door, whipping it open. “President Horne?”
