Story #6
Description: Demona's latest attempt to destroy
humanity links Lexington's mind to that of an autistic savant. The
clan must search for a cure, and Lexington must search for himself.
AUTHOR'S NOTE : With some exceptions, none of the characters
used in the story are mine. "Gargoyles" characters belong to Walt
Disney/Buena Vista Television. This is an unofficial story, not sanctioned
in any way by Disney. Also, I have decided that in this, and in every
future story, I am ignoring the existance of any episodes after "Hunter's
Moon, Part Three", for the most part. Not because I don't like them,
because I LOVE them, but because they and my universe conflict so badly
that letting anything besides the first two seasons exist would make my
stories unintelligible in terms of my plotline. Finally, this story
contains mature subject matter (language and intended sexual reference),
so read at your own volition. However, reader discretion is advised.
Autism is a disorder that medical science does not
entirely understand. My use of it in this story may not be entirely
accurate, but every attempt has been made to make this story as factual
as possible.
HISTORIAN'S NOTE: This story begins immediately after "The Savant, Part II". BEFORE YOU READ THIS STORY, READ PARTS ONE AND TWO OF THE SERIES, "CONVERGENCE" AND "NOBODY NOWHERE".
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For Dave, who's always ready with a kind word and an uplifting comment. Dave, my son, you ought to be in radio.
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In a room without windows, in the company of shadows,
You know THEY won't forget you, they'll take you in.
Emotionally shattered, don't ask if it mattered,
Don't let it upset you, just start again.
In a world under glass, you can watch the world pass
And nobody can touch you, you think you are safe.
But the wind can blow cold in the depths of your soul
Where you think nothing can hurt you till it is too
late.
Run till you drop; do you know how to stop?
All the people walk right past you, you waved good-bye.
They all merely smiled, for you looked like a child
Never thought that they'd upset you, they saw you
cry.
So take advice; don't question the experts.
Don't think twice, you just might listen.
Run and hide, to the corners of your mind, alone,
Like a nobody nowhere.
Reprinted from "Nobody Nowhere - The Extraordinary
Autobiography of an Autistic"
Written by Donna Williams.
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DEMONA: "Hello, Lexington."
"Nobody Nowhere"
OWEN: "Previously, on 'Gargoyles'..."
DEMONA: "Say hey and abracadabra."
(Show Demona reading the Grimoire of Gaulois, "Nobody
Nowhere")
"Nobody Nowhere"
LEXINGTON: "Hello. I'm J.D."
(Show Lexington smashing the mirror, "Nobody Nowhere")
"Convergence"
OPHELIA: "You can stop telling me that everything's
going to be all right, because it isn't."
"Nobody Nowhere"
OPHELIA: "I'm ready to say that I love you."
(Sow Lexington and Ophelia watching the movie, "Immortal
Beloved")
"Nobody Nowhere"
GOLIATH: "So we have know way of knowing if our
plan will even work, because Demona might not know to show up."
"Nobody Nowhere"
CHRISTINE: "I don't give a damn about the gargoyles
or their concerns. I'm worried about my son."
(Show J.D. screaming, "Nobody Nowhere")
CHRISTINE: "My son matters the most to me."
"Nobody Nowhere"
J.D. : "Go away and leave us alone."
(Show J.D. scratching his face, "Nobody Nowhere")
"Nobody Nowhere"
WHITBOURNE: "Delilah...does ye think I'm a wimp?"
"Convergence"
BONAVISTA: "And I needs to take a night off the
frettin', me girl."
(Show Bonavista and Kennedy at the party, "Nobody
Nowhere")
"Nobody Nowhere"
LEXINGTON: "I don't know who I am."
"Convergence"
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Prologue
Waiting For The Devil
Castle Wyvern
November 20, 1997
10:13 p.m, Eastern Standard Time
Lexington
stared at Demona, not saying a word, not making eye contact. He raised
one lone eye ridge, and gazed almost challengingly at her. But his
awkward mix of emotion was still evident on his face.
Demona
slowly stepped a little closer, trying not to startle him. This was
still hostile territory, no matter if Lexington was the only gargoyle there
or not. If Owen picked the wrong moment to come back in and
check on him...
"How are
you feeling?" she asked sweetly, kneeling down next to him.
Lexington subtly inched away, but still made no move to alarm anyone else.
Realizing how tenuous her situation was, Demona mentally spat on her hands
and got to work.
"I want
to help you, Lexington." she soothed. "I did something bad
to you, but I'd like to set it right."
"It is
right." Lexington frowned. He stated that defiantly, and then
went back to his piano.
"What do
you mean?" Demona asked. "Are you saying you're happy with
how you are now?"
He grimaced,
and then tried to phrase an answer, but he wasn't successful. He
looked deeply confused and unsure of himself.
"Do you
know who I am?" Demona asked.
"Yes.
Lexington says you're Demona." Lexington stated.
"Well,
he's right. My name is Demona." she replied, raising an eye
ridge of her own. "Has he told you anything about me?"
She was
very confused by all of this...why was Lexington referring to himself in
the third person?...but she didn't let it show. Her face was perfectly
straight, her expression concerned and caring. It was an acting job
worthy of an Academy Award.
"I don't
know." Lexington said, plinking the keys. He started to hum.
"Well,
Lexington, you..."
"I'm J.D."
Lexington cut in.
"J.D?"
Demona asked. Lexington nodded smugly.
"Um...well,
J.D...Lexington might think that I'm evil. That I'm doing bad things."
Demona covered. "I just came here to tell you that it isn't true."
Lexington
stopped playing and humming, and stared straight ahead.
"I want
to help you, and I want to help the rest of the world, too. There's
something I need to do, but I need your help, and I need Lexington's.
And after that, if you want, I can try and separate the two of you..."
"NO!"
Lexington howled. "No, don't, you can't, you..."
He was
crying out, terrified all of a sudden, angry and loud. Demona could
almost hear Owen's footfalls outside the hall.
"Ssh, ssh,
it's okay." Demona whispered. One talon gently brushed against
his shoulder, and he recoiled as if he had been branded. My, my,
isn't this working out well, Demona chided herself.
"I won't
separate you if you don't want me to." Demona sighed. "If you
want, I can make it so that you and Lexington can be together forever."
Lexington
calmed down somewhat, but he didn't look satisfied. There was a look
about his face as if staying together with this other person was the last
thing he wanted, and that it was just as unattractive as being torn away
from him. Not for the first time since the conversation began, Demona
found herself hopelessly confused.
"I only
need one thing from you, Lexington." Demona stated. 'And
from...J.D., too. I need to know the name of the person who is connected
with you."
"Why?"
Lexington asked. "So you can split us up? So you can
bring us into 'the world'?"
What in
the name of God are you talking about? Demona thought. "No,
no, I just need to talk to him. Like I'm talking to you."
Lexington
frowned. "J.D." he said slowly. "J.D. LeJeune."
"Do you
know where he lives?"
"At our
house." Lexington answered.
"Um...well,
do you know where your house is?" Lexington thought for a second,
and then ignored her.
"Lexington...J.D...whoever...listen
to me. This is very, very important. If I don't find out where
this J.D. LeJeune lives, then I won't be able to help him.
I won't be able to keep you together."
That got
a reaction. "He's at the big building. The big building with
the B flat elevators."
"And where
is that big building?"
"Le...Levin.
It's next to the Levin sign. The big building by the Levin sign.
It's gray."
For some
odd reason, Levin rang a bell. It was a start, anyway.
"Thank
you." she stated, and she went down on one knee. "And remember
that you can trust me. I want to help you. You have to believe
that."
Lexington
stopped acknowledging her presence, and went back to the piano. Demona
looked at the door again, and suddenly became painfully reaware of where
she was. She stood up, and went back to the secret door. She
gave one last look at the now-autistic gargoyle, and stepped back into
the passage. She slowly tugged the door closed.
The perfect
crime had ended.
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When the
door had opened, Lexington had looked up. That much had been clear
to Demona, but she had no idea of the vast internal struggle that her appearence
created.
Lexington
stared at her with an expression of shock, anger, and mistrust. Of
course he saw her as the villainess who had countless times tried to destroy
the human race and had endlessly tried to destroy him and his clan.
That was one side.
J.D. saw
none of that. He instead saw the person who had linked him and Lexington
together in the first place, and that stirred up tangible emotions of trust
and friendship. She had brought them together. Of course
she was a good person. Nothing like Ophelia, who wouldn't be happy
until she invaded and broke in to 'his world'. Demona had not shown
any interest in breaking them apart...well, she had, but she had quickly
asserted that she would leave them alone if that was what they wanted.
That alone
was enough to make J.D. trust her instantly.
How can
you? Lexington asked emphatically, once Demona had left. How
can you even think of trusting her! She's evil!
Ophelia
is evil! J.D. shot back. Ophelia wants to break us up.
She even said that she wasn't going to stop until she split us apart.
Demona is going to leave us be. She won't try and break into 'our
world'! She's the first person who hasn't tried! How can we
not trust her when she's the only one giving us what we really want!
But...
Or do you
want it? Do you want us to be split apart? Do you want to go
back to 'the world', and live like you did before? That's it, isn't
it. You want Ophelia to split us up and you hate Demona for it.
No...that's
not...
That's
IT! J.D. shouted angrily. You want Ophelia! OPHELIA!
It's always OPHELIA!!!!
And even
though the arguement had begun with Demona, it ended, twisted beyond recognition,
with Ophelia. Lexington stood up.
"OPHELIA!"
he screamed. "OPHELIA, OPHELIA, OPHELIA!"
He picked
up the piano, and hurled it with tremedous force at the wall.
It splintered and cracked, and the pieces fell to the floor with unnoticed
impacts.
Lexington
hissed, and sat down. He wrapped his arms tightly around himself
and began to rock back and forth.
Ophelia
and Demona. One to love, one to hate.
The only
problem was that the two voices in his mind dissented on which one was
which.
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The Bronx
10:24 p.m., EST
Bonavista
didn't know why, but he just wasn't having a good time.
It was
stupid. The parties at the castle were loads of fun, what with Whitbourne
and the others getting drunk and people singing and laughing and having
a grand old time. This was different. Even though the university
students had no problem with gargoyles in general and with him being at
the party specifically, he still felt very much like an outsider.
And to
think I was after nearly sendin' Goliath into conniptions for this, he
thought dejectedly.
He sighed,
and settled in deeper on the couch. He had gotten a seat, finally.
He was sitting between Kennedy and Shawn, drinking his beer, and subtly
looking at the clock on the wall. Twenty-five after. Lords
above, he wanted to go home.
Shawn was
excitedly telling Kennedy about the skiing season coming up, and his upcoming
tryouts for the World's Cup team on the twelfth of December. Kennedy
had shown him the tapes of a few of his meets, and Bonavista had to admit
that if skiing down a hill with a bunch of bumps on it was a sport, Shawn
Mercer was a prime athlete for it. Tonight, his emphasis on his chosen
sport was mostly coming out of the beer bottle, but still...
"Brassard,
Ken! Jean-Luc BRASSARD himself is coming to these to watch!
Gold medal in Albertville! Christ's sake, but if I'm good enough
I might be getting on the Olympic Team! I'll be going to Salt Lake
City in 2002!" Shawn slurred. Kennedy smiled, and took a drink.
"Hey, Bonnie,
you ought to get some skis. For them big feet." Shawn stated,
and giggled. Kennedy rolled her eyes.
"I'm driving,
Shawn." Laine stated from the other side of him.
"Yeah,
I ought to, my son." Bonavista agreed without much enthusiasm.
"Excuse I, fellas. I has to go blow me nose."
He stood
up, and looked at Kennedy. Let's go home, he wanted to say, but didn't.
He walked
to the bathroom, grabbed a Kleenex, and blew his nose. He looked
in the mirror, ran his hands under the faucet, and wet his hair.
Lookin' fine, Bonnie, my son, he thought, and smiled wanly.
Instead
of going back to the couch, however, he quietly snuck outside for a smoke.
He sat down on the patio steps in the back of the house, and took out his
package. Just as he was about to light his cigarette, however, some
voices cut in from behind the bushes. They couldn't see that he was
there.
"Who does
he think he's kidding?" one person asked, and Bonavista blinked;
it was one of the two guys who apparently didn't think much of gargoyles.
"He's an
idiot." the other guy said. "They all are. He ain't no
different just cause he's got some bitch to bring him to parties.
Should have brought him on a leash."
They're
talking about me, he thought numbly, and found he didn't particularly care.
"Hey, now,
don't go calling Kennedy Woodworth a bitch." the first guy laughed.
"She's one of the finest looking girls on campus. I know a ton of
guys who'd sell their arms just to go out with her for an evening.
You're one of 'em, aren't you, Mitch?"
"Yeah."
Mitch stated, pleasantly enough. "I am. And that gargoyle ain't
much better. Did you see him, Coady? Lookin' at her like he
was expecting to get some too?"
Bonavista
dropped the cigarette and his jaw simultaneously.
"Yeah,
I saw." Coady chuckled. "You'd almost think he was human with
the looks he was givin' her. Mason had the same look when he was
after Sally. The nerve of him, Mitch! Thinkin' he has a chance
at Kennedy Woodworth of all people!"
"Nah, Ken
wouldn't go for him. She likes her men human...so I hope. But
that gargoyle...he's ugly and he's obnoxious and he talks like a stupid
hick."
Bonavista's
fists clenched, and the urge to hop of the steps and punch the frigger
in the nose became irresistable.
"Let's
go, Coady." Mitch went on. "This party sucks and I have errands
to run in Manhattan tomorrow. Hey, you comin' to Dooly's tomorrow?"
"Yep.
We should ask Kennedy to come. Get her hangin' around with real people
and not ugly green things that think they're gonna succeed where many a
man has failed." Coady replied. Their voices grew softer, and
then fell silent. Bonavista sat perfectly still on the step, utterly
and totally flummoxed.
"Those
ignorant pricks." he whispered. "If I ever gets me hands on
them..."
And then
suddenly a thought. They said that I was after lookin' like I was
hittin' on Ken. They was after thinkin' that I thinks I gots a chance
with her. Was I actin' weird? My Christ, I didn't think I was
hittin' on her...
He ran
one four taloned hand through his hair, and thought. That was crazy.
I ain't after Kennedy. We's just friends, for frigg's sake.
Just cause I'se friends with a girl doesn't mean I has to be after hittin'
on her.
And then,
a very small voice suddenly piped in. Besides, they were probably
right. She wouldn't go for you when she's got her pick of guys to
go with. You wouldn't have a chance.
Wait a
second, he thought...why is I even thinkin' about it? It never crossed
my mind to go out with her before, so why is I thinkin' it now just cause
a couple of dickheads were after sayin' so?
Cause maybe
it's true, that small voice replied. Maybe you might not know it,
but maybe you do think about things like that.
He frowned.
Of course Kennedy was rather pretty, but all she was and ever would be
was a friend. Bonavista was happy with that.
But still...
He sighed
again, stood up, and headed back into the house. He made a beeline
for the living room.
"Kennedy,
I thinks I'se gonna shove off." he stated as soon as she was in view.
"Huh?"
she asked. "Oh. Sure."
"You can
stay if you wants to." Bonavista stated. "I'se gonna go home."
Kennedy
frowned. "I think I might leave too. This party isn't
that great."
Bonavista
raised an eye ridge, and nodded. But the words of the two jerks were
swimming in his head, and he suddenly found himself not wanting to go home
with Kennedy, for fear he'd do something stupid.
They left
the party, giving their goodbyes, and stepped out onto the front step.
Kennedy wrpped her arms around Bonavista's neck and got up in the piggy-back
position. Bonavista stopped dead in his tracks, and coughed.
"Bonnie,
what's the matter?" she asked. "You've been tense and bothered
all night."
He sighed.
"It's nothin', me girl." he lied, and then he began scaling the wall.
Once on the roof, he spread his wings and soared off for home.
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Central Park
10:56 p.m., EST
"Forty-three
bottles of beer on the wall, forty-three bottles of beer, you take one
down, pass it around, forty-two bottles of beer on the wall..."
"Stop it,
Witless!" Carbonear hissed. "Ye's got to be quiet!"
"Sorry."
Whitbourne muttered. He looked at his watch. "Friggin'
Christ. It's five to eleven and no one's been after showin' up yet."
"Poor ye.
Ye had to sit tight for an hour. 'Scuse me for a second, Witless,
while I goes and has a good cry over in the bushes."
Whitbourne
mimiced her, and crossed his arms sullenly. "Still, I s'pose waitin's
better than the alternative."
"And what's
that, my son?" Carbonear asked.
Whitbourne
rolled his eyes. "Fightin' Demona if she shows up. I'se friggin'
hopin' she don't, just so I doesn't have to look at her."
Carbonear
frowned. "Or is it cause ye's scared of her?"
Hesitation.
"Um, yeah." he sighed. "Look, it ain't like I'se bein' unreasonable.
She tried to kill me on Hallowe'en just cause of what I was after wearin'."
Carbonear
looked at him, and Whitbourne gave a weak little grin. "She scares
the livin' Jesus right out of me, me girl." he admitted.
Carbonear
gave him a sympathetic look. "She scares me, too, Whitbourne.
She scares everyone. But ye doesn't have to go and spend all your
time tryin' to prove that ye isn't a wimp for all that ye's scared of Demona."
Whitbourne
shot her a sidelong glance. "That ain't all, Carb. I mean,
whenever we goes on patrol, I kinda stand on the sides and watch ye's when
ye's stoppin the bad guys. That's kind of bein' a pussy, too, ain't
it?"
"Look."
Carbonear told her rookery brother. "Witless, I knows how ye feels.
We's all scared of this, too. Just cause we aren't physically shakin'
in our skins don't mean that we ain't afraid, too. Ye's no different
than anyone else. And bein' scared of something doesn't make you
a wimp."
Whitbourne
frowned, and went back to looking out at the park. "Ye can say that
all ye wants, me girl, but as far as I'se concerned, I'se a friggin' coward.
And I'se gonna think that until I can look at Demona without wantin' to
run as fast as me legs can carry me."
Carbonear
looked like she was about to say something, but Whitbourne's sullen expression
told her that he wasn't going to listen. She sighed, and went back
to watching...and waiting.
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Levin Residential Building
11:04 p.m, EST
Christine
LeJeune was just as perplexed as her husband. The entire revelation
about J.D.'s condition had settled a numb shock into her system, and she
was just as bewildered and at a loss for what to do. Reality seemed
too strange, all of a sudden, when it allowed things like this to happen.
She was
sitting on the couch. J.D. had gone to his room for bed, even though,
surprise, surprise, he wouldn't be asleep. Not when he'd slept through
half of the day already. In the meantime, she was flipping through
the channels on the remote, wondering why she suddenly felt so confused
at the world, and knowing deep in her heart that she'd never look at her
life the same way again.
She set
the remote aside, and looked towards the door to the bedrooms. A
small sigh escaped her, and she closed her eyes, lost in thought.
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Central Park
11:20 p.m., EST
"Hey."
Goliath
froze, and spun around, alert and aware. But it wasn't Demona; it
was Elisa, who had crept in behind the bushes to where he was standing
guard. "Hello, Elisa." he stated quietly.
"Any sign
of her?" Elisa whispered, hurridly scanning the park.
"No."
Goliath sighed. "Nothing."
Elisa swore
under her breath. "I guess she isn't taking the bait, then, huh."
"It's still
early." Goliath pointed out. "We can't give up yet."
Elisa looked
at him. "It's twenty after eleven. How long are we going to
watch until we call it quits?"
Goliath
looked out at the water. How long, indeed? When would he finally
admit that the plan was obsolete and useless, that Demona wouldn't be showing
up?
"We'll
wait as long as it takes." he stated finally.
Elisa looked
at him for a second. She quietly took his hand, and squeezed it.
He gave a shy smile, which she eagerly returned.
Wordlessly,
she let go of his hand, gave one last glance, and stepped through the bushes
to joing the waiting.
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"Elisa's
here." Angela remarked. "I can see her."
"Demona
should be here, soon, if she's coming at all, then." Ophelia remarked
dryly. "What am I even doing here? I should be home with Lexington."
"You're
helping him." Angela stated, turning towards her rookery sister for
a minute. "Ophelia, just because you can't physically see him
doesn't mean you aren't helping him. You're just doing it a different
way than you were before."
"I know."
Ophelia sighed. "Yet I can't shake the feeling that I should be there
for him. That I know something's going to go wrong."
"He's got
Owen to watch out for him." Angela smiled.
Ophelia
stared at her. "But it should be me. And I would be there if
Bonavista hadn't run off."
Angela
frowned imperceptibly at the mention of the clan's resident runaway.
"I'm sure Bonnie has his reasons." she frowned.
"I'm sure
he does too. But he..." she blinked, and smiled. "I'm
not even mad at him. I try to be...I want to be...but for some
reason, I only end up angrier at myself."
"At yourself?"
"For leaving
Lexington for a year. For making him wait, and for not letting him
know how I felt about him before it was too late." Ophelia sighed.
"That's why I'm with him all the time, because I want to make up for not
being there before."
"Ophelia..."
Angela began, but Ophelia shushed her.
"That's
why I want to be back at the castle. Every second I don't spend with
Lex, trying to coax him to come back to us, I feel angry at myself for
not caring about him enough when he needed me before."
"Ophelia,
you weren't neglecting or disrespectful. You were confused and upset,
and you didn't know how you felt. You don't have anything to
make up for."
She swallowed.
"And I think Lexington knew that."
With a
rustling of bushes, Ophelia was suddenly watching her sister intently.
"But..."
"If he
thought you didn't love him, I doubt he would have kept trying. I'll
admit, I've only known Lexington for a year and a half, almost as long
as you have, but he strikes me as someone who knows when it's time to give
up on an impossible dream. Ophelia, if he knew that it was never
going to happen, he wouldn't have kept trying. That probably meant
he wasn't as hurt and as tragic as you were thinking."
Ophelia
stared at her blankly.
"I'm not
saying that it couldn't have gone better." Angela continued.
"But you weren't being cruel or a monster to him, you were being shy and
slow. And he knew that. So you can care for him while he's
like this, and you can be upset until we bring him back, but you don't
have to think you've failed him."
"I...thank
you." Ophelia whispered.
Angela
smiled. "You could have told him before, Ophelia, but you don't have
to think you're a monster because you didn't."
Smiling,
Ophelia nodded. "I guess I just needed someone to tell me that.
It's not going to change things...I'm still going to be there for him whenever
he needs me...but maybe you're right. Maybe I've been too hard on
myself."
"Maybe?"
Angela laughed. "Now let's go back to waiting."
**************************************************************
Nightstone Unlimited Headquarters
11:43 p.m., EST
She swooped
around a couple of times, and then landed. She sighed, and walked
inside her office from the balcony.
Demona
glanced briefly at the window, showing it's majesty of the city's skyline,
and snorted contemptuously. Soon it would all be at an end.
The humans wouldn't be around for very much longer.
She rested
her elbows on the windowsill, lost in thought, remembering her trip
to the castle. Lexington had been much worse than she'd expected
him to be, but that wasn't the point. He hadn't been frightened off
by her, or mistrustful towards her, and that was the important thing.
To put it bluntly, Lexington trusted her, and he would be able to help
her cast the spell.
There was
just the problem of finding out where the other boy was. Lexington
hadn't been very helpful in that avenue...all she knew was that his name
was J.D. and that he lived somewhere near a sign that said Levin.
She frowned,
and pensively rubbed her chin. There was something familiar about
that name...
"Levin."
she muttered. "What does it mean? What does Levin mean?"
She sighed,
and walked out to her office proper. The building was abandoned,
except for the night watchmen, and her office door was closed and locked
anyway.
The note
from Elisa was still on her desk. She smiled; the fools were probably
in Central Park now, waiting for her to show up. She wondered how
long it would take them to realize that not only was she not coming, but
she had managed to sneak into their home in the meantime.
Home...
A flash
of insight suddenly came to her, and she turned on the computer.
Accessing her personnel files, she typed in the name of her personal assistant,
Iris Hussey.
There it
was. Residence...the Levin Residential Building, 1127 West Eighty-First
Street. Apartment 2E. Demona suddenly remembered Hussey telling
her (as Dominique) that she would be moving to the Levin Building, and
telling her that she'd be updating the file.
But that
wasn't important. What was was that it had given Demona the oppurtunity
to determine what Lexington had meant when he had said Levin.
She smiled
warily, and typed in a few commands. The Levin Building had, apparently,
been modernized to the point where all the people who lived there were
registered as doing so in the public city records. She knew that
the name J.D. wasn't much to go on, but it was a start.
She accessed
the search prompt for those records, and typed "J.D."
No matches
found.
She struggled
to remember what his last name was...Lexington had said it...and closed
her eyes.
LeJeune.
J.D. LeJeune.
She smiled
again, and typed "LeJeune" into the prompt. Bingo. Thomas Warren
LeJeune, Apartment 7G. Four residents...wife Christine Teresa LeJeune,
son John Derek LeJeune, daughter Crystal Elizabeth LeJeune.
John Derek
LeJeune. J.D. LeJeune. Currently residing in the Levin Residental
Building at 1127 West Eighty-First Street, Apartment 7G.
Demona
smiled, shut off the computer, and looked out at the city again.
And a child
shall lead them, she thought, her grin widening. Lead them to their
justly deserved ends.
She suddenly
began to laugh, and this time there was no mistaking the malice in it.
**************************************************************
Castle Wyvern
11:54 p.m., EST
A swoop
of wings, and a rocky landing later, and Bonavista returned home.
Things
had gone badly on the way home. Bonavista hadn't said much more than
was necessary to Kennedy, and he had given her a hasty good-night after
leaving her apartment. He hadn't wanted to seem so distant, but he
couldln't help himself. He'd been absolutely terrified that something
he would say might lead to misinterpretation, and that Kennedy would accuse
him of trying to hit on her. A baseless, irrational fear, but a real
fear none the less.
The clan
wasn't back yet from the Central Park stakeout. It was almost midnight.
He frowned. Midnight was when they expected Demona to show up.
They were probably getting ready to fight her right now.
"I ought
to be there." he muttered. "Friggin' Christ, but I'se done
everything wrong tonight."
He walked
aimlessly around the halls for a few minutes, finally passing by Owen Burnett
in the hallway.
"Oh.
Hello." Owen muttered. Bonavista gave a cool nod of his head
in a similar greeting.
"Where's
ye off to?" Bonavista asked.
"To check
on Lexington. I thought your clan was at Central Park?"
Bonavista
sighed. "They is. I'se just not with them."
"I see."
Owen responded. "Well, in any case, I have to go then. Good
night, Bonavista."
Bonavista
watched him head down the halls, and sighed quietly. He went to the
TV room, sat in the easy chair, and flipped on a late-night movie.
Feeling sorry for himself the whole time.
*************************************************************
Owen walked
in to the guest room to find the piano in pieces on the floor and Lexington
slowly rocking back and forth, humming.
"What happened?"
Owen asked flatly, not expecting a reply. He wasn't disappointed.
The major
domo sighed, and walked over towards the wall. He scooped up one
piano key in his hand, and looked towards Lexington. The gargoyle
was watching him with an apprehensive expression.
"Do you
have something to tell me?" Owen asked.
"No."
Lexington replied quickly. He spun around, and looked away.
************************************************************
Levin Residential Building
November 21, 1997
12:05 a.m., EST
J.D. was
having another mental struggle. Lexington was once again fighting
to tell the stone-handed man about Demona, trying to let him know that
she had been there. J.D. would have none of that. He reined
Lexington in, and stated his case.
We can't
tell him, J.D. stated. His anger was gone, replaced with a calm resolve.
We can't tell anyone. If we do, then they'll know. We
wouldn't be able to make them leave us alone so she can help us stay together.
He has
to know, Lexington inisisted stubbornly. Demona's insane and dangerous,
and they have to know...
The danger
is what will happen if...that man finds out. We shouldn't care about
what Demona wants to do to 'the world'. That's none of our business.
But if we tell them, then they'll stop her, and she won't be able to keep
us safe in 'our world'.
Lexington
still sounded doubtful.
Lexington,
we have to do it. J.D. sighed. It's for the greater good.
A mental
sigh. All right, Lexington muttered, sounding very apprehensive.
************************************************************
Central Park
12:28 a.m., EST
They waited
another half an hour before Goliath finally accepted the fact that the
plan had failed. Demona showed no signs of arrival. Either
she hadn't gotten the message, or she had seen through the fallacy.
The gargoyles
converged on the side of the lake. They all looked tired and cold,
but the expression on their faces was universal...a cross between disappointment,
anger, and fatigue. Except for Whitbourne...to his chagrin,
he couldn't help but look a little bit relieved.
"She isn't
coming." Goliath said simply. "Our plan has failed."
"So what
do we do now, lad?" Hudson asked.
A sigh.
"I don't know." the leader stated. "We'll either have to try
again tomorrow night, or come up with another plan."
"Let's
come up with it somewhere a bit warmer." Brooklyn shivered.
Carbonear smiled, and took off her jacket, wordlessly handing it to her
love.
"We'd best
head back to the castle." Goliath frowned. His expression was
bitter and angered. "To check on Lexington."
The clan
nodded. Elisa turned to Goliath.
"I'll come
back to the castle, too...um, if you don't mind." she stated.
"Of course."
he replied absently.
Each gargoyle
scaled a nearby tree, and took to wing. Goliath cradled Elisa in
his arms, and took off, nestling her close as they soared through the air.
"You all
right?" she asked.
"No."
Goliath replied. "Elisa, I wanted this to work, and I was sure it
would..."
"Goliath,
sometimes things go wrong. If Demona didn't get the message I left,
then it wasn't your fault. Things like this happen. All we
can do is try again the next night."
He looked
at her. "I know." he sighed.
She smiled,
and lovingly brushed his cheek. "We'll come up with something."
she stated. "Sooner or later she'll slip up, and we'll be there to
nail her when she does. She isn't going to win."
A look
on Goliath's face, however, told her that even if that were the case, Goliath
wasn't in any great hurry to believe that at the moment.
*************************************************************
Castle Wyven
12:43 a.m., EST
They landed
on the castle parapets, and were immediately greeted by Xanatos.
"She didn't
show, did she." he sighed. "The remote for the Steel Clan never
blipped."
"No, she
didn't." Brooklyn muttered, handing Carbonear's coat back to her.
"Merde."
Xanatos muttered. "So, what now?"
"Good question."
Broadway replied.
Just then,
there was an ahem, and Bonavista strode out into the courtyard. There
was a communal gasp as he walked out. He looked pretty nervous, but
that wasn't all...there was a brief hint of shame in his expression.
"Aw, Jesus."
Whitbourne groaned, shooting a quick glance at Goliath. "She's goin'
up now."
"Hi, byes."
Bonavista stated, warily. "Goliath, I..."
There was
suddenly a roar, and Goliath plowed through the gaggle and pinned Bonavista
to the wall. His eyes blasted to brilliant white, and he looked mere
inches away from hauling off and punching the green Newfoundlander in the
mouth.
"HOW DARE
YOU?" Goliath hissed. "How DARE you show your face..."
"Goliath!"
Carbonear yelled. She walked up towards him, and Brooklyn instinctively
hovered protectively at her side.
"Ye said
ye wasn't gonna hurt him." she reminded him. Goliath growled
in annoyance, but nodded. He let go of Bonavista, and stared at him.
"We'll
talk after." he stated in a dangerously calm tone. "Until then,
I don't want to see you. If I do, I can't promise I'll control my
temper."
Bonavista
gulped, and nodded. Goliath let go of him, growled, and stormed into
the castle. Elisa shot an appraising glance at Bonavista as well,
and followed Goliath.
"Bonavista..."
Hudson frowned.
"Look,
byes, I can't say much else besides I'se sorry." he frowned, brushing
off his back. "I shouldn't have run off like that."
"You're
darn tootin'." Brooklyn blinked, still looking in the direction Goliath
had gone in. "He'll be ballistic when he talks to you."
Bonavista
grimaced. "I know." Ophelia shot him an unimpressed glance,
and sighed.
"How long
has ye been home?" Whitbourne asked.
"Not very
long, my son. I'd say forty-five minutes."
"We'd best
go inside." Hudson frowned. "We don't want to be catchin' cold."
"So was
Demona after showin' up?" Bonavista asked.
"What do
you care?" Ophelia muttered, but he didn't hear.
"No."
Angela stated. "She didn't."
Bonavista
smiled with no humor. "Loooks like all our nights were for nothin',
then."
The gargoyles
walked inside.
************************************************************
************************************************************
************************************************************
Chapter One
Promises To Keep
Ophelia
walked through the hallways, and came to the guest room. Owen was
sitting in the chair, reading a magazine, while Lexington quietly scribbled
on a pad of paper.
"Did Demona
show up?" Owen asked.
"No."
Ophelia sighed. "No, she didn't."
"How are
you going to get the Grimoire back now, then?" Owen asked.
Ophelia
shot him a glance, and sighed. "I don't know. None of us do.
This is all spiralling out of control." She looked at Lexington,
and let out a small ironic smile.
Owen nodded,
and got up and left the room. Ophelia just as quickly took his place.
"I don't
know, Lex." she sighed. "I have no idea how I'm supposed to
bring you back to us when everything we try fails."
If her
head hadn't been down and looking dejectedly at the floor, she might have
seen the sudden look of intense hatred and anger that crossed Lexington's
face. But she didn't, and by the time she loooked up, Lexington was
engrossed in his scribbling again.
*************************************************************
But just
because he wasn't looking at her didn't mean that what she had said hadn't
affected him. He was suddenly angry at her again, and her nonchalant
tone seemed to spur that on.
She wants
to split us up, he thought, and the anger he felt was this time his own.
Why can't she leave me alone? She's nothing more than a meddling
snoop...
It wasn't
entirely his own anger, actually...J.D.'s was just as much a part of it,
but Lexington's was there, as well. The truth about J.D. and Lexington's
connection was that after a period of intense emotion on the part of one,
(such as J.D.'s rage over Ophelia which had led to the smashing of the
piano) the other began to feel that emotion not just as a side effect,
but as an actual feeling.
This was
very peculiar. This was also very dangerous.
Because
Lexington's previous objections to erasing Ophelia from the equation were
fast disappearing, and the justifications for the action weren't entirely
J.D.'s anymore.
But of
course, this didn't show. Lexington merely scribbled on the notepad,
not looking up, not making a sound.
************************************************************
"This is
so frustrating." Brooklyn muttered. He grabbed a beer from
the fridge, hesitated, and popped it open with his talons.
"Uh huh."
Broadway nodded agreeably. "Demona doesn't show up, so there goes
our plan. We're gonna have to make another one. I wish she'd
just be where we want her to be so this doesn't have to drag on for weeks."
"Demona
being agreeable? Yeah, right." Brooklyn laughed with no humor.
A fairly
large crew of gargoyles were sitting in the kitchen, talking. Brooklyn,
Broadway, Angela, Carbonear and Bonavista were all discussing their nights.
"I have
this feeling that we're missing something." Angela frowned.
"It doesn't seem like my mother to wait so long before making her move."
"No offense,
me girl, but I sometimes wish ye had a nice, normal mother who bakes cookies
'stead of bein' such a shagger." Carbonear muttered, sipping a beer
of her own.
Bonavista
ahemmed, and looked at the others. "So my night was a waste.
'Twas a sucky party, with nothin' goin' on, so I got in all this trouble
for nothin'."
The others
looked at him, with unreadable expressions on their faces.
"Plus ye's
are all mad at me, too." Bonavista noted.
"We're
not." Brooklyn stated quietly. "We've all made mistakes like
that, too. It's just you did this at a really bad time, Bonnie, so
that's why Goliath's so upset."
"Hmm."
Bonavista sighed, tapping his fingers on the table. "That ain't much
of a comfort, my son."
"So what
are we doing now?" Broadway asked, getting up and taking an apple
from the fruit dish.
"I'd imagine
the same old routine. Me, Goliath, Hudson and Elisa will probably
be planning what to do again. Course, that's better than one alternative...we
could have been spending tonight recuperating from a fight with that bitch."
"Or worse."
Carbonear frowned.
"Don't
let Witless catch you saying that." Angela muttered dryly.
"Where is he, anyway?"
"Take a
wild guess, me girl." Bonavista raised an eye ridge.
**********************************************************
The Labyrinth
12:59 a.m., EST
"So what
are you going to do?" Delilah asked, staring intently at Whitbourne.
He sighed, brushed a stray bang out of his face, and shrugged.
"I doesn't
know, Dee." he frowned. "We's probably gonna end up goin' after
her some other way, and we's probably gonna screw that up and do it again
the next night and the night after that. Frigg, the way we's goin',
we might be able to get that stupid book back by next Bonfire Night."
He groaned,
and sank back against the wall miserably, staring down the hallway.
The two of them were in 'Delilah's place', an out of the way section of
the Labyrinth where nobody seemed to ever go except Delilah.
"I just
wants to get this over with." he moaned. "Has it done with
so I never has to think about Demona again, and..."
"And what?"
Delilah prompted. She impulsively took his hand, and kissed him.
He closed
his eyes, suddenly lost in that moment and forgetting about all his troubles.
He would have gladly stayed there forever...with her, holding her gently
in his arms, not caring at all about the outside world.
"And then
we'll be able to move on. We'll be able to live together, me girl."
Whitbourne smiled shyly.
Delilah's
eyes widened, and she smiled.
"We'd best
be after waitin' till all this is after gettin' sorted out." Whitbourne
continued. "I mean, frigg, ye can hardly come to the castle right
now, and I can't very well pack up and move here...whichever we's doin'...in
the middle of this."
"I know."
Delilah stated softly, and she looked downward. "I'll wait till it's
done with. When all this business with Demona and that book is over."
"When that's
done, then by Christ, I'se spendin' every wakin' moment with ye."
Whitbourne promised fervently. "I ain't never gonna run off and do
nothin' without ye..."
"Whit."
Delilah began.
"Yeah?"
Whitbourne answered.
"You're
babbling." she smiled patiently.
Whitbourne
stopped, and a slow, sheepish grin overtook his face. "Is I?"
he asked. "Frigg, I never even noticed!"
"Good thing
I'm so observant." Delilah smiled. She hugged him close, and
the two settled back comfortably, resting in each other's arms.
*************************************************************
Castle Wyvern
1:06 a.m., EST
Back at
the castle, Goliath and Elisa were sitting in the library, quietly.
For the first time since waking up, they were in an open display of affection...Elisa
was resting, enfolded in her lover's wings and arms. Goliath was
looking down at her, absently playing with her hair. He had been
significantly calmed since confronting Bonavista outside, but that was
mostly because of weariness and fatigue, not by any mediation.
He was
also a bit scared. Demona still had the book, and that meant that
she could make her move at anytime. That risk, along with the fact
that Goliath knew his former angel bore an insane grudge towards Elisa,
couldn't help but drive a sliver of fear into his heart that Elisa was
in great danger.
"Goliath?"
Elisa murmered.
"Hmm?"
he asked.
"What do
we do now?"
He pondered
that for a second. "I don't know." he sighed. "The idea
of making a raid on Nightstone is starting to look more and more inevitable...even
though we don't even know if she's there."
Elisa looked
up. "Frustrating, isn't it...not knowing what she's up to, knowing
that she's gonna try something sooner or later, not knowing how to stop
her."
"Mmm."
he agreed. "We can't do much else besides wait and see...that is
annoying as well."
They were
both silent after that, for a few minutes.
"After
all this is over...after we beat Demona and bring Lex back...I think we
deserve a little time alone. Nothing like going to Xanadu again,
just a night for us. You and me, at my apartment..."
"Now I'm
interested." Goliath smiled, nestling her closer. Privately,
though, he couldn't help but wonder if she was being a little overly optimistic.
Don't think
like that, he told himself. Don't automatically assume a worst-case
scenario, or else we have no hope of winning.
Did we
ever in the first place? a quiet voice spoke up within him, and then
fell silent.
He didn't
dignify that with a response. Instead, he held Elisa closer for a
little while, and then he regretfully stood up.
"Where
are you off to?" Elisa sked, getting to her feet.
"To have
a little chat with Bonavista." Goliath frowned. "I might as
well get it over with."
************************************************************
Levin Residential Building
1:39 a.m., EST
In bed,
Thomas and Christine LeJeune were wide awake, as they had been last night
and the night before. Sleep didn't come easy, and that was good...sleep
brought the questions in the form of dreams, and those were better ignored.
But that
wasn't all...while Thomas and Christine usually slept close together, tonight
they were as far apart as the bed would allow. Affections had taken
a back seat in the household of late.
Christine
was staring at a photograph on her night table. It was of the family...Thomas,
Christine and Crystal were all smiling happily into the camera. J.D.
was looking past it, but smiling, seemingly caught up in some secret vision
of his own.
But even
with J.D.'s autism, back then they had been a family. They had been
able to deal with J.D.'s autism together, and they had been happy.
This incident was tearing the family apart...maybe not noticeably, as nobody
fought and yelled and screamed at each other over it, but quietly and secretly.
This entire episode was slowly making them all drift apart. Except
Crystal, thank God...she was too young to understand, and Christine and
Thomas hadn't told her the full story behind it all.
She turned
around, and looked for a long time at her husband. He was staring
up at the ceiling, with an uncharacteristic look of confusion and nervousness
in his eyes.
"Hon..."
she began, but he slowly turned to face her, looking as if he had been
roused out of some daze.
"What?"
he asked dopily. Christine hesitated. What indeed?
"Nevermind."
she stated smally, and she turned around and stared at the picture some
more.
************************************************************
J.D., meanwhile,
sat awake in bed, plinking away quietly at his piano. Lexington's
had been broken, of course, but J.D. felt an obligation to play his.
The music and the calming effect it had transversed to Lexington's own
mind, and so it was a mutual thing of sorts.
Lexington's
strenuous protests to keeping the secret about Demona had dulled, and he
had finally settled down and forgotten. The music had calmed him
to the point where he no longer cared about that.
What he
did care about was Ophelia, however, and she was in the room with Lexington.
She wasn't speaking, however...J.D. had an alarmingly clear mental picture
of her sitting in a chair, quietly watching Lexington with a half contented
smile on her face. That made him angry...after all, Ophelia was the
enemy...but she wasn't calling attention to herself or uttering the blasphemies
of splitting the two of them up, so he let her presence slide.
But it
wouldn't be long. If she couldn't leave them alone all of the time,
she had to be eliminated. As simple as that. If it had only
been a few isolated incidents, like the rest of Lexington's friends, then
she wouldn't have to die. But Ophelia had time and again proven
that she would not rest until she had broken into "the world" and split
them up...and what was worse, she had already tried, and almost made it.
One facet
of autism is that the autistic person doesn't really take much stock in
the consequences of his actions. For example, he might see a can
of antifreeze, and he might wonder what it tastes like. He won't
stop to consider that there might be lasting effects of drinking it, and
even if he does recognize that it's a generally inadvisable practise, it
won't have any real relevence towards the here-and-now of it. He
won't understand the lasting effects of drinking the antifreeze.
That's a general rule...consequences of an action don't always mean a whole
lot to an autistic.
As such,
J.D. had no idea that killing Ophelia would be a permanent thing.
To him, it was just a way of making sure that she left him and Lexington
alone for good. He had no intention of sending her soul on to the
great hereafter, it was just the surest way to make sure she didn't interfere.
He had watched many movies where people...gangsters and criminals, mostly...killed
people who interfered, and he completely failed to understand that once
Ophelia was dead, she wouldn't be getting up, getting cleaned up, and waiting
for the next take. All he knew was that her death would mean that
she would leave him and Lexington alone for good.
However,
another thing J.D. didn't realize that a spade is still a spade, no matter
what you call it. And so he blissfully entertained notions of killing
Ophelia, not quite understanding how serious those notions were.
************************************************************
Nightstone Unlimited Headquarters
2:00 a.m., EST
She would
have gone to the Levin building that same night, but she was tired.
After goosestepping around the Eyrie's admittedly tight security, she needed
to wind down and catch her breath. Besides, J.D. LeJeune would still
be there tomorrow. One more night of waiting wouldn't hurt.
So she
went to her office bar, took out some gin, and proceeded to run over her
plan once more.
Tomorrow,
she would put in some time here. She had been gone for an unusually
long time without telling anyone, and it was out of character to do that
for too long. She didn't offer explanations, but she did want to
make token appearences. Token was all it would be, though.
She was planning on going over a few files here, even though she knew that
it was only a charade since all of Nightsone's clients would be dead in
a matter of days, anyway.
So she'd
stay till lunch, then cite a headache and head off. Then she would
buy the silver ring and the two sapphire pendants at a reputable jeweler,
under an assumed name and a fraudulent credit card. The iron ring
was in her vault...she had found one that had been a holdover from the
time she had summoned Puck.
She would
then return to Nightstone and stay in her office, making a phone call she
had thought up to Thomas and Christine LeJeune. She wasn't quite
sure how, but she had to get the family out of the house and have them
leave J.D. behind after sunset. Once that was done, she would wait
till sundown and go to the Levin Residential Building, and have a talk
with J.D. She supposed it would be easier to kill the boy's family,
since they'd be dead in a few days anyway, but she didn't want the last
days of this plan marred with investigations and foul-ups. It would
be as quiet and as foolproof as possible.
That being
said, she sat down, and began to think about how to make all these grandiose
plans come true.
************************************************************
Castle Wyvern
2:11 a.m., EST
The door
was closed, but Goliath was still audible. Over the last half hour,
during which he had been talking to Bonavista about his adventure, he had
begun by speaking in a controlled, measured tone that gradually became
first a hollering session, then a rant of loud yelling, and finally what
could only be described as a scream. Goliath didn't just lecture
Bonavista, he sermonized. And when it was done, Bonavista walked
out of the room with a mildly sickened look on his face.
"How are
the eardrums?" Broadway asked. He and Angela had been walking
by.
"Not too
shabby, my son." Bonavista groaned, with his hands over his ears.
"Can't say the same for my social life, though. I'se confined to
the castle till Christmas. And then he said he'd review my case.
He was after tellin me that it wasn't so much runnin' off, it was yakkin'
back to him and disrespectin' Lex."
"Till CHRISTMAS?"
Angela blinked. "That's a whole month!"
"Probably
more. Course, if we'd a' been after havin' this talk when he first
got home, I thinks I would of ended up with a black eye or two."
Bonavista frowned. "Shit. A month of me life gone down for
nothin'."
He walked
off, leaving Broadway and Angela staring after him. A few minutes
later, Goliath walked out. His eyes were still aglow.
"Poor Kennedy."
Angela sighed. "She'll have to phone if she ever wants to talk to
him."
"Yeah."
Broadway agreed. "Still, though, he shouldn't have run off."
"Mmm.
He told us he didn't even think it was worth it."
Broadway
nodded. "Everything seems for nothing. We have no clue what
to do next with anything."
"I just
hope we figure out what we're going to do before my mother makes her move."
Angela sighed. She shivered, and crossed her arms. Broadway
watched this, grinned, and hugged her.
"What was
that for?" Angela asked.
"You looked
like you needed it." Broadway replied.
She smiled.
"Well, I did. Thank you."
"My pleasure."
Broadway chuckled.
*********************************************************
Ophelia
walked into the kitchen, grabbed a glass from the cupboard, and went rooting
through the fridge for something to drink. It was funny...after a
year of living here, surrounded by the modernizations of the twentieth
century, she didn't even think of half of these things...a far cry from
the way she had once been when she had gotten her first real glimpse of
the real world. She sometimes wondered what her rookery brothers
and sisters reactions would be if they came here and watched a television
show or listened to the stereo with her. Of course, it would probably
be just as well...Whitbourne and Bonavista had taken endless advantage
of her naivete in the beginning, even convincing her once that if you talked
into the speaker of the radio, the person singing or talking would be able
to hear you and reply.
She chuckled.
Lexington hadn't been that much help either...he hadn't been as bad as
the Newfs, of course, but he had played a few pranks on her.
A little
pang of sorrow bubbled up in her, and she suddenly thought about the mess
he was in again. Right now he was still in the guest room, but she
had taken a little trip to get something to drink.
She had
just finished pouring her juice when somebody ahemmed.
"Leave
that out." Lexington said from the doorway to the kitchen.
"I think I'll have a glass. Fruit punch?"
She looked
up, and stared at him in numb shock. There he was, as he had been
before the autism, just standing there with that trademark knowing little
grin on his face. He walked over to the cupboard, and got a glass,
seemingly unaware of Ophelia's stunned silence.
"...lexington..."
she whispered, and she nearly dropped the glass on the floor.
"Hmm?"
he asked, and he turned around and looked her directly in the eyes.
"What?"
She didn't
say a word.
"You look
like you saw a ghost." Lexington smiled, pouring himself a glass
of juice. "I don't want to have you so scared you can barely talk...that
is, if we're still on for that horror movie we were gonna watch..."
The world
suddenly seemed to become brighter, more in focus, and she impulsively
grrabbed Lexington close in a fierce embrace, afraid to let him go for
fear this would all be a happy dream.
"Hey!"
Lexington laughed, at first startled and then warmly hugging her back.
"What's gotten into you?"
"You!"
Ophelia cried, and suddenly she began to laugh. It was a good laugh,
not at all tense or frightened or anything, and suddenly everything was
all right. Lexington laughed with her, and that was good...just a
man and a woman, laughing it up.
"I thought...oh,
Lex, I thought I'd never get to talk to you again..." she whispered after
she had finished laughing.
"Usually
you're saying that I can't shut up." Lexington smiled. "C'mon,
lets go watch our movie."
They walked
out of the kitchen, and suddenly Ophelia took Lexington's hand. He
smiled, shyly, and they walked close together as they headed for the movie
room...
*************************************************************
...and suddenly
she bolted up in her chair, wide awake. Lexington was sitting in
the corner, quietly humming, once again off in his own private little world.
She looked
around, and realized she was still in the chair she had been in when she
had first taken over for Owen. It suddenly became painfully clear
that she had dozed off and begun dreaming.
She sighed,
and got up. There was a wetness on her cheeks, and she realized that
her eyes were stinging with tears. Apparently, even in the midst
of that dream, some part of her had recognized the futility and cried out
for the truth after all. She hurridly wiped them away, and looked
at Lexington. He looked up, and looked towards her...his eyes never
met hers...and he looked so serenely distant that suddenly a knot of pain
suddenly rose up in her heart. She swallowed, and finally she bolted.
She ran
towards the door to the castle, and went outside to the snowy parapets.
It suddenly hit her, then...one spectacular wave of grief that sent her
to her knees in a sob.
"I can't
do it!" she cried. "I can't do it anymore, I can't...I can't...oh,
God, I can't..."
Tears came
spilling down, and for one brief, irrational second, she envied Lexington.
He was oblivious to the pain he was causing, and he wasn't guilt-stricken
for a failure to let anyone else know the scope of his feelings, much as
Ophelia was.
Why? she
asked herself. Why did this happen? What did Lexington do...what
did I do...that would make us deserve this?
She suddenly
thought back to a story that the Princess Katherine had told her and her
siblings once back on Avalon...the story of Job. The just man who
God decided to test to see how far his faith extended. Katherine,
ever the devout Christian, had instructed the young gargoyles that God's
will was supreme, and that no matter what people did, they had to keep
faith. Ultimately, so said the Princess, God would hear the prayers
and reward the faith of those people, and whatever they asked would be
given.
"Then why
isn't he listening to me?" Ophelia asked, in a small voice.
She shuddered,
and hugged herself closer, trying to get herself calmed down. It
wasn't working; the pressures of trying to single-handedly save Lexington
and bring him back were finally catching up to her. She could not
bring herself to feel better.
So she
stopped trying, and simply sat out in the snow, all the while asking why.
**********************************************************
Hudson,
meanwhile, was reclined in the easy chair, watching a late night movie.
He stifled a yawn, and looked down at Bronx, who was napping quietly by
the side of the chair.
"Look at
ye." he smiled. "Ye great beast." Bronx didn't answer,
but he let out an indignant woof in his sleep.
He picked
up the remote, and shut the TV off. The movie was too banal for his
tastes. He contented himself with resting his weary old body while
looking out the window.
Suddenly,
he saw movement, and realized there was somebody out there.
"In this
cold?" he asked. The temperature had dropped dramatically since they
had returned, and the weather report on the Weather Network had given the
current temperature at thirty-one degrees Farenheit the last time he had
checked.
He got
up, and looked out the window, seeing that it was Ophelia out there.
Raising
an eye ridge, he left the TV room and went oklynde to talk to her.
It took him a few minutes to actually get to the door leading outside,
but not much had changed by the time he did.
"Ophelia?"
he asked, walking towards her. "Lass, what are you doing outside?"
She looked
up, and she started sobbing again. "Hudson, I..."
"Ssh, ssh,
lass, c'mon inside." he ordered, and he helped her stand. They
walked back in the castle, and he broght her to the TV room. He sat
her down on the couch. By this time, she was weeping.
"Ophelia..."
he began.
"WHY?"
she yelled. "I don't understand why, and...I...I..."
He hugged
her, and held her close as her shoulders quaked with convulsive sobs.
A few minutes
later, she had quieted down enough to explain to him what had happened.
"It just
all crashed in." she whispered. "How much I miss him and how
unfair all of this is and all of that."
Hudson
nodded with understanding. "You just suddenly got overwhelmed by
it all."
She nodded.
"Hudson, I don't know if I can take it anymore. I love him..."
He looked
at her sharply. "What?"
She stared
for a second, and suddenly she smiled. "I thought I told you all."
she whispered. "I told Angela, and Fox, and...Hudson, I figured out
that maybe what I feel for Lexington is more than friendship.
"But that's
what makes it hurt...I love him, and I want to be there for him, but it's
so frustrating and it's so...I can't deal with it anymore. I can't
look at him anymore and blindly try to help him, because I'm losing hope.
We missed out on getting Demona..."
"Lass,
lass, ssh, now." Hudson soothed. "You can't give in.
Not now."
"I can't
do it anymore." Ophelia insisted. "I know he needs me, but
now I need him, and...and it's just not fair..."
She started
to sob again, and Hudson held her close, much as a father might hold a
daughter who's been terribly, terribly hurt. "Ophelia, it'll be better
soon. I promise. We'll get him back."
"When?"
she demanded. "When?"
"If we
knew the answer to that, we wouldn't be so worried. But we will,
lass. I promise."
She looked
at him, then, looking a bit relieved...but also doubtful. As if no
matter how much she wanted to believe him, she had finally reached the
point where she could no longer do so.
***********************************************************
Greenwich Apartment Complex
2:59 a.m, EST
Kennedy
couldn't sleep. She tossed and turned in her bed, and she pounded
on the pillow and the mattress, but it did no good.
She couldn't
help but think about Bonavista. Something had seemed really wrong
with him when he had brought her home, as if something was bothering him
but he didn't want to say.
She turned,
and stared at her alarm clock. Three in the morning. Thank
God she had no classes tomorrow, cause there was no way she'd be able to
go to school after the party and after staying up so late.
It was
still iffy...tomorrow, her parents were coming down from Schenectady (ancestral
home of the Woodworths since 1972) and meeting her and Kerry for dinner.
She wanted to be semi-awake for that, so she figured she'd better get to
sleep.
But Bonavista's
attitude had been bothering her. For the first time since they had
met, he had been acting honest-to God nervous around her. And not
all night...just on the way home. They had been as friendly as usual,
and he suddenly became distant and insecure.
She wondered
why that was.
***********************************************************
Castle Wyvern
7:34 a.m, EST
The rest
of the night passed by uneventfully. Nothing was planned or set up...the
remaining time was spent in downtime, not really doing much, trying to
forget what had been an all around shitty night.
Goliath
had calmed down, but he still wouldn't look at Bonavista. A
few times, the clan's leader had shot him vaguely unimpressed looks,
but no words were spoken between the leader and the errant Newfoundlander.
Whitbourne
did not return. He phoned again, this time stating that he was spending
the day at the Labyrinth. "Why doesn't he just move there?"
Brooklyn commented after hearing that.
Ophelia
was still looking vaguely confused and hurt. Her relatively private
outburst a few hours previous had long since passed, but she still looked
rather haggard and withdrawn. Hudson stared at her concernedly, but
said nothing.
Elisa was
there to greet the day with them. As the eastern horizon began to
brighten exponentially, she turned to Goliath.
"Have a
nice sleep." she smiled. He grinned rather shyly in response.
The sun rose, and that grin was frozen on his face as his lavender skin
slowly became gray, and petrified with an audible crackle.
She sighed,
and headed for the door.
***********************************************************
Levin Residential Building
8:15 a.m., EST
The LeJeune's
were sitting down for breakfast...minus J.D. of course. The sun was
up, and that meant nap time. In the meantime, Christine and Crystal
were headed off to drop her off at school shortly, while Thomas was going
to stay home and watch J.D.
It was
a mostly silent breakfast. No polite conversation, only a few meekly
made comments to please pass the sugar or the orange juice. What
a tightly knit family we have now, Christine thought.
And suddenly,
the phone rang. Thomas set down his fork, and walked over towards
the phone on the wall.
"Hello?"
he greeted as he picked up the phone.
"Good morning,
Mr. LeJeune." came the female voice on the other end.
"Uh, good
morning." Thomas replied. "Who is this?"
There was
a pause. "My name is Marie Arsenault." came the reply.
Thomas
raised an eyebrow...he didn't know anybody named Marie Arsenault.
"I'm an
employee at the Metropolitan Museum of Art." Arsenault went on.
"And I've heard about what happened with your son, J.D." Another
pause. "I might be able to help you."
"WHAT?"
Thomas almost dropped the phone in surprise. "Who is this?"
"Meet me
at Le Bistro Rouenesse tonight at 8:00." Arsenault stated, choosing
not to clarify who she was. "I have something that may be able to
help you."
"Miss,
I want you to tell me..." Thomas yelled, but Arsenault cut him off.
"Tonight
at eight. Le Bistro Rouenesse. You won't be disappointed."
<click>
Thomas
stared blankly at the reciever with a mildy dumbfounded expression on his
face. He set the receiver back in the cradle, and slowly turned around.
"Thomas?"
Christine asked.
"Daddy,
who was it?" Crystal asked.
He looked
at them both. "Christine..." he began, and then he waved her over
to the far side of the room to tell her in private.
***********************************************************
Nightstone Unlimited Headquarters
8:17 a.m., EST
She set
the telephone back in it's cradle, and smiled. The parents had been
lured out of the house...now all she had to do was wait.
Marie Arsenault,
also known as Dominique Destine, smiled as she picked up a pen and began
to feign looking over a few files. The snare had been set...today,
she would get the last few materials she needed, tonight, she would talk
to J.D....and tomorrow, if all went well, she would bring both J.D. and
Lexington to her, and then...
She had
to stifle a chuckle as she looked out into the hallway, where her assistant
was on the phone with an investor in Pittsburgh. There were people
milling all about, off to do their jobs. She turned and looked out
the window, where Manhattan glistened in the sunlight and where countless
people went about their daily business.
Enjoy it,
fools, she thought. Enjoy it while you can.
"Because
you won't have it much longer." she continued aloud.
**********************************************************
**********************************************************
**********************************************************
Chapter Two
To Kill A Mockingbird
Holton Apartment Building
3:11 p.m., EST
Friday afternoons
weren't usually much for excitement. That was the way both Matt Bluestone
and Cornelia Stallman liked it.
Right now
they were lounging around, watching a video Matt had rented. It was
an oldie-but-a-goodie...the original Godfather. Matt, however, couldn't
help but make snide, sarcastic remarks about the Dracon family the whole
time.
"I wonder
if Tony Dracon ever found a horse's head in bed one day." he mused, and
this sent Cornelia into a fit of giggles.
"Stop it!"
she chuckled. He kissed her, and grinned.
"For that
matter...you know, that was Mr. Ed's career after his show. Playing
the horse's head." Matt stated cheefully.
"Matthew
Charles Bluestone, can you ever shut up and listen to a movie?" Cornelia
grinned. She settled against him, and he put his arm around her.
They had
managed to set a date for their wedding...February 19th. They hadn't
wanted to have it on Valentine's Day mainly because that was her parents
anniversary, and they wanted the day to be special on its own.
But somehow,
even with that happy determination of the special day, the entire incident
with the LeJeune's was taking a toll. Cornelia and Matt had visited
them yesterday, and they were bad...really bad. They seemed almost
oblivious to the world around them. That of course made them both
feel really guilty, since they had taken J.D. with them to the museum.
Christine and Thomas both asserted that neither of them blamed Matt or
Cornelia, but there was something about their eyes that made them think
that perhaps they were held resposnible in the LeJeune's eyes.
The lighthearted
joking suddenly came to an end, and Matt and Cornelia settled in to watch
the movie.
**********************************************************
Castle Wyvern
6:48 p.m., EST
The sun
slipped below the horizon, and just as the sky began to tentatively darken,
the stone shells of the gargoyles suddenly burst, and they came to life.
A few yawns, a few roars punctuated the night, and then the clan began
to congregate on the parapets below. Lexington, of course, paid no
attention...he contented himself with walking around, humming softly to
himself.
"What now,
then?" he heard Brooklyn ask. "What are we going to do tonight?"
"We may
end up going to Nightstone. We've tried searching her house; we've
tried luring her to us. The only other options I see open are trying
the next most likely place, or waiting to let Demona come to us."
Goliath frowned. "And I don't like that idea at all."
He shot
a glance at Bonavista. "If we do go, you come with us. Your
confinement to the castle affects only personal matters."
"All right."
Bonavista sighed, looking too tired to argue.
"We'll
discuss this more over breakfast." Goliath concluded. Everyone
nodded, and headed for the kitchen.
Lexington
listened to them, perking up a bit at the mention of Demona, but otherwise
ignoring them. He set his talons on the cold snow all over the parapets,
and brushed a bit aside.
The rest
of the clan walked past him, and he could feel their eyes upon him.
He didn't care. They were out in 'the world'...what could they do
to hurt him?
But then
Ophelia walked by, and he stopped dead. He watched her as she entered
the castle, and he stared at her coldly as she looked back at him.
Tonight,
he thought. Tonight we make her leave us alone.
And while
J.D. had a part in that voice and in the cold, merciless rationality it
was spoken with, it was just as much Lexington's own.
*********************************************************
Le Bistro Rouenesse
7:40 p.m., EST
"I'll have
the scallop dinner, please. With a glass of Donini, red, and a baked
potato." the elegantly dressed woman stated. The waiter scribbled
the note down on the pad, and took the groups menu's.
"Will that
be everyone, then?" the waiter asked, looking over the pad.
The four people at the table nodded.
"I'll return
shortly with your drinks." he stated, and he walked off. Kennedy
watched him go.
"So, honey,
how are your classes going?" the woman asked.
"Great,
Mom." Kennedy smiled. Damhnait Woodworth, her mother, grinned.
"It's harder this year, but I'm doing fine."
"Good for
you, dear." Kenneth Woodworth smiled. Kennedy's father was
a strong, imposing man with graying hair who looked very relaxed.
Her mother was a smaller woman, and Kennedy quite obviously took after
her. The same somewhat pinched face, the same small frame.
Kerry Woodworth,
Kennedy's twin brother, was already helping himself to one of the rolls
on the table. "Same with me. It's a little strange, plus I'm
studying all about weirdos."
"Well,
as long as you're both keeping your studies up. Heaven knows there's
plenty of distractions in a big city like this." Mrs. Woodworth looked
out the window.
"We know,
we know, it isn't Schenectady." Kennedy smiled.
"So, Ken,
how's your friend doing? The one you asked me about a few days ago?"
Kerry asked.
"Hmm?"
Kennedy blinked.
"You know,
the autistic guy. The one you thought might be autistic."
"Oh!"
Kennedy recalled, suddenly remembering Lexington. "Yeah, him.
Turns out he is autistic."
"You know
an autistic person? Thank you..." Mrs. Woodworth stated as
the waiter brought back four glasses of wine.
"Mmm-hmm.
Well, not that well, he's more a guy I know through a friend of mine."
Kennedy stated. She didn't really know how her parents would take
the fact that one of her best friends was a gargoyle, so she decided to
keep that a secret until the time came up.
"I see."
Mr. Woodworth noted. Kennedy smiled, and took a drink of her wine.
That was good...he hadn't demanded to know who her friend was. Usually,
her parents were interested in knowing "what kind of people" her friends
were.
Well, Dad,
he's green, and he's got wings, she imagined telling him. Then, a
darker thought. But don't worry...I don't know if he wants to be
friends with me anymore.
She blinked,
and wondered if that was true. Did Bonavista want to be associated
with her anymore? It was hard to tell, judging from last night, but
she decided that she had probably be best off calling him after when she
got home. Somehow, she doubted he'd be able to come over after Goliath
got through with him.
She sighed,
and tapped her nails on the tabletop.
*************************************************************
The Honda
Civic pulled alongside the curb, and Thomas and Christine got out.
"Park your
car, sir?" a red-suited valet asked. Thomas nodded, and
handed the man the keys.
"I still
think this is crazy." Christine muttered as they walked into the
restaurant.
"So do
I." Thomas replied. "But whoever this Marie Arsenault is, if
she can help get things back to the way they were, it'll be worth it."
"How can
she, Tom?" Christine demanded. "That man back at the Eyrie
told us that this was all because of a magic spell, and that nothing conventional
could improve him."
"Look,
if the museum was holding something that could do this to him, it's gotta
have something to undo it." Thomas sighed. "I'm not saying
we should run in here and automatically believe whatever she tells us,
I'm just saying we can at least hear her out. Maybe she'll be able
to help us."
They came
up to the entrance, and walked in. The host was standing there, looking
over the reservation book.
"Good evening.
Do you have a reservation?"
"Yes."
Thomas replied. "LeJeune, table for three, eight o'clock."
The host
read over the list, and smiled. "Here it is. Non-smoking, table
seven. You can come right in."
The host
took three menus, and walked over towards a four seater table set for three
people. Thomas and Christine sat down.
"We have
a dinner special on tonight." the host announced. "A scallop
dinner, served with your choice of potato, beverage, and vegetables, along
with dessert, for $17.95..."
"Yes.
Er...we're expecting another member of our party to come soon..."
Christine stated.
"Of course,
madam. Whenever your friend arrives, I'll direct him to the table."
the host smiled, and walked off.
"It's a
her..." Thomas began, but he gave up, and took a drink of water.
"At least
Gloria Trevino is looking after the kids." Christine muttered.
She looked at her watch. "Ten minutes."
And so
they settled down, and waited.
**********************************************************
Castle Wyvern
7:52 p.m., EST
In the hour
that had passed since awakening, a few things had happened. The clan
had eaten, of course, but besides that, Whitbourne returned home.
He looked very contented and happy, leading to a few hushed murmerings
of what he and Delilah had done while he was at the Labyrinth.
Right now,
in the kitchen, Fox was giving Alex his bedtime snack. He had
insisted on a waffle, so Fox had obligingly hauled out the toaster and
popped in an Eggo for him. Of course he wouldn't want it when it
was cooked, Fox realized, but that was the nature of one and a half year
old children.
The waffle
popped, and Fox set it on a plate. She grabbed the syrup, and squirted
out a generous amount.
"Waffle!"
Alex cried.
"Yep."
Fox agreed, capping the syrup.
"L'go my
Eggo!" Alex hollered seriously, and Fox suddenly cracked up laughing.
She cut the waffle up into tiny bits, and went to sit near Alex.
"Where'd
you hear that, off the commercial?" she asked him. He grinned,
and started rubbing his tiny little hands into the syrup.
Just as
she speared the second piece of waffle with the fork to feed to him (the
first had ended up in Alex's hair), Lexington walked in. He paid
no attention to anyone.
"Wexinton
waffle!" Alex hollered, and he started trying to squirm out of the
high chair. Fox patiently reined him in, despite his screams, and
curiously watched Lexington. He picked up a spoon and stared at it,
obliviously, until finally banging it on the counter.
"D flat."
he announced in a deadpan tone.
Fox, deciding
that he meant no harm, gave her attention back to Alex.
"Wexinton?"
he asked curiously...this was, of course, Alex-speak for "Whatever is the
matter with Lexington, mother?"
"I don't
know, hon." she sighed, looking at the autistic gargoyle one last
time. "C'mon, you'd better eat up. It's time for bed."
Alex normally
would have given her hell for that audacious suggestion, but tonight he
stared curiously at Lexington, and quietly ate his waffle.
***********************************************************
He was quite
content to wait. He was enough in control that he recognized having
people see him do this wasn't a great idea, so he...rather THEY...waited
until the red haired woman and her baby were out of the room.
Lexington
passed the time by banging on metal objects and identifying the pitch.
That calmed him, worked up the nerve...because as sure as he was that this
needed to be done, some dark, secret part of him that J.D. hadn't quite
touched was screaming against it.
You can't
do this, that part of him pleaded. You can't. You've loved
her for a year now, and she's told you she loves you back, and you want
to kill her and destroy her.
He hesitated,
then, and he might have been able to call it quits had not the other voice...the
insane voice that was just as much J.D.'s as his own...suddenly decided
to add its two cents.
But she's
hurt you. She's tried to split you up, make you come out into 'the
world'...and you don't want that. You know you belong here, this
way, with J.D., and the only way you'll be able to stay that way is if
you get rid of her.
He considered
that for a while, thought it over...and then he finally made his decision.
Fox and
Alex finished the snack, and Fox lifted the baby up and took him out, presumably
to bed. Lexington waited until they were gone, and then he went to
the knife rack. He hesitated, and grabbed a steak knife. Frowning,
he tested the edge by poking himself in the finger with it. A single
drop of dark red blood oozed out of the cut, and Lexington absently wiped
it off on his leg. He stared at the knife for a minute more, and
then he carefully placed it in his belt, where no one would see it until
the deed was one.
He turned,
and walked out of the kitchen, his face utterly deviod of emotion.
But one thought turned over and over in his mind.
If you
won't leave us alone, we'll make you leave us alone...if you won't leave
us alone, we'll make you leave us alone...if you won't leave us alone,
we'll make you leave us alone...
************************************************************
Levin Residential Building
8:12 p.m., EST
Gloria Trevino
was a rather pragmatic woman who knew nothing of J.D.'s recent difficulties
or tribulations. All she knew was that he was autistic, and that
he had apprently developed an obsession with gargoyles. Gloria couldn't
understand why...she thought gargoyles were nasty, smelly things that would
be better off in the zoo...but she didn't feel it was her place to criticize.
In any
case, this woman was currently babysitting J.D. and Crystal while the LeJeune's
had gone to meet an associate. The work was pro bono, of course...free,
since Gloria, who was barren, loved the LeJeune children as her own.
Right now
she was playing a leisurely game of Hungry Hungry Hippos with Crystal,
who was laughing with delight every time her hippo swallowed a marble.
They had invited J.D. to play, but he was lost in his own world.
He was sitting quietly on the couch, though so he