A/N Of course, I do not own any rights to any part of the Gargoyles franchise. This writing is not for profit and is only to try to entertain myself and, hopefully, entertain others. Also, this story will get smutty and will contain strong language.
This story starts in mid-1995.
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Brianna felt more at home in New York than she ever did in the South-West. She loved Texas, but New York was less restrictive, not to say less judging. It was just different, and she loved it. Despite the cost.
Bri always loved Goth culture. Even before she it was easier to access the Goth lifestyle accoutrements, she had found a way and was dressing in corsets and too much eyeliner in high school. However, at the age of 32, she was beginning to think that she had become too professional for her non-traditional choices. Overtime she had slowly integrated into what was acceptable during the day, only to adorn and express herself afterhours in the night. This was acceptable until she was on the news for her gene editing studies that allowed mice to undergo photosynthesis. To her surprise, shortly after she was spotted in her alternative clothing by someone who happened to be a fellow scientist and panicked. It shouldn't have bothered her. But it did. Especially after reading their expression. Even in New York, people were not always accepting.
Bri synched her corset and shuffled her way out of her large by New York standards apartment to go to her favorite Goth club. She wondered if it would be one of the last times she would go every time she went.
Dan, Carol, Chris, and Tristen were already at The Nightingale when she arrived for Friday night shenanigans. They were the type of couples that she hoped she would become someday. Dan and Carol had been married since high school, childless, and totally amazing. Bri loved going to their apartment just a few minutes away and being served the most amazing dishes and drinks. Chris and Tristen had been together longer than any straight couple she knew and were the most loving. Tristen has made all Bri's corsets and was starting to become rather recognized for many of his artistic passions from clothing to photographs. Chris played in the stock market and did very, very well, but now is a stay at home dad for Tristen's niece. They had everything but legally adopted Willow. She wished that Tristen could formally gain custody, but it was never that easy. Especially for a homosexual couple.
"Hello, my bitches!" Bri yelled with a huge smile as she approached their table, quickly provided drink in hand.
"Hello~, my darling," Chris' voice resonated above the others, "I was starting to think you were not going to be able to make it!"
Bri sat down in her normal place, only for Tristen to busy himself fixing her hair.
"You must have been in a rush, weren't you?" Carol asked.
"Thanks guys," Bri said with an edge in her voice, "Since last week I have been trying to not be seen by Dr. Levin again. Now that I know he lives in this neighborhood…" Bri trailed off.
"Oh please," Dan harshly stated, "Get over yourself. No one cares. You can do whatever the fuck you want to do."
There was not point arguing with them. They didn't have to live in her work world and she didn't live in theirs. Chris gave a knowing smile as he was the closest one to understand her predicament.
Artists.
"It doesn't matter tonight." Carol said, "Let's us revel in the night!"
It seemed one of her friends' favorite pastimes was the threat and execution of setting Bri up with potential suiters. Though Bri loved the Goth style and thought process, she wasn't a big fan of most Goth men. Though she considered herself a New Yorker now, she was still a transplant and she still like certain "Old School" qualities in men. These were not typically found in the men that her friends have tried to set her up with. Most of them were selfish, afraid of bugs, never looking up from their phone, spent more time in the mirror than she, or just plain arrogant and rude. Despite their low success rate, they would still try.
"Hey, you like big guys, right?" Carol leaned over to Bri in a drunken state, whispering as if she could be heard through the music. "Look. The trench coat guy is here again!"
"Yeah, he is probably not wearing anything underneath like a perv." Bri said dryly.
"I've seen your hentai collection, hoe. I still don't even want to know how you got those." Carol giggled as she leaned in closer, "Hmm, I hope he isn't wearing anything underneath."
Tristen looked up, not knowing the full contents of the exchange, "Oh! It's Trench Coat! Bri-bri, isn't that your type? Viking tall, brother and lumberjack big for the winter?" He winked with a wicked smile.
"Oh, sweet baby Jesus," Bri's Southern accent slipping out as she slammed her hands on the table, "Y'all best hush your mouth already! Y'all are NOT allowed to try to set me up ever again, y'hear?! Enough of this."
"Ohhh~" all her friend said in unison, eyes wide.
"I say we hit a nerve," Chris mimicked his lover's tone, "Oh let's go talk to him! He has been coming in a while! What is his story anyway?!" After a few minutes of harassment and unsuccessful attempts at subject change, Bri knew she had no choice.
"Ok, fine! I know where this is going. I will go and talk to him and y'all will respect me if there is nothing there, got it?!" Bri was almost shrill with the memory and anxiety of the last set up her friends forced her on. They love her, she knows that, but they could be insensitive. Maybe she just needed to toughen' up?
Her group cheered and became too excited as Bri stood up from the table. "Oh, by the way, to punish you fuckers, Carol and I will be discussing our periods in extreme details and y'all best listen!"
Bri took pleasure in the lowering of excitement as she left the table because they all knew she meant it. Carol just cackled.
Bri wanted another drink, so that was what she was going to do. She nervously approached the bar as the dark music played.
"Marla! May I have another one of your specialty yuzu-mint drinks, please Ma'am? I can't get enough of it!" Bri called to the sweet old lady behind the bar. Marla smiled and nodded. Bri turned to Trench Coat and immediately felt tiny.
"Boy-howdy, I tell you what!" Bri said before losing courage or gaining sense as her eyes followed the man's huge hands up to his head as he sat in the bar stool, "How big are you?! You look like a tree!"
The man wore a fedora that cast a shadow on his face, but Bri blushed at his masculine facial features that she could make out in the dark room. "Oh," Trench Coat said softly, "Are you talking to me?"
"Yes, Sir," Bri said nervously only to backtrack, "I'm sorry to bother you if you are not interested in talking with anyone. I understand that." Her heart beat in her throat as she spoke to him.
"No, no." Trench Coat replied only facing her partially, fidgeting with the glass in his hands, "I don't mind at all. Just surprised. I'm not good at speaking to new people." His voice was much kinder and not as deep as Bri had expected it to be.
"Oh," Bri slightly smiled, happy with his honesty, "Neither am I! I feel a little better to be honest. My name is Brianna Hord, but my friends call me Bri." She stuttered on, "Um, my friends and I come here frequently and have noticed you have been here quite a bit as well. We thought it would be a shame to not introduce ourselves to you." Bri was happy to lean on her friends. They may have essentially forced her into contact, but at least she could retreat to them if needed.
The trench coat clad gentleman turned to her, expression unseen, and turned to the mirror behind the bar.
"Actually, I've noticed all of you, too, but I am not very good with new people." He began to trail off.
"Oh! Then don't worry about it!" Bri said almost interrupting him. "I really don't like pressuring people into anything." She laughed nervously and turned towards the bar.
Trench Coat cleared his throat. "I like your poetry. I heard you speak last month."
Bri nearly jumped out of her skin, "Oh! I'm horrible! I'm no artist but I felt I needed to express myself every now and then." Bri looked down at her hands nervously. "Thank you for listening, though." Her heart was pounding, and she could hardly stand it. What was wrong with her?!
Trench Coat laughed, "Everyone is their worst critic," he paused, "Well, most of the time."
Bri immediately laughed and turned to look at him, "I know, right?! People are so mean these days and for no other reason but to be mean." He was looking directly at her with a smile. They made eye contact for the first time. She bit her lip in surprise at her reaction.
"Do you write poetry?"
"Oh, a little, but really I'm a consumer." His voice becoming less tense.
"Who do you like?" Bri became excited to ask. Trench Coat seemed to consider the question for a moment and replied, "Shakespeare."
Marla placed the drink on the bar in the artful way that she was known.
"Hey, I'm not picky, you should really try this drink," Bri told Trench Coat after thanking Marla profusely, "I study all sorts of things and a little inoculation might make me stronger!"
Trench Coat gave her a confused, blank expression that was sweet in a way. "Huh?" was all that he allowed.
Bri laughed at herself and his cute reaction to her word dump, "You're cute," she slipped. "What I mean is, drink some of this awesome drink. It is so light and refreshing. Marla is a genius. Literally! She was an organic chemist for the army during WWII! She was even captured by the Russians, once!" Bri was an excitable person, despite being Goth, and she feared that she might have overdone it for this guy. However, when she looked up at him, she was taken aback. His body language mimicked her excitement, and a gentle smile crossed his face.
"Okay," he almost whispered, "I would love to try." Bri pushed the glass towards him and his oversized hand pick the glass up with a 'ting' sound. Bri found herself really wanting to see him in brighter conditions. He lifted the glass up to his lips, avoiding the straw, and took a small sip out of it.
"Woah!" his voice was louder than before, "This is amazing!"
"Hey now! You hardly drank enough to really taste it," Brianna said with excitement, not actually knowing how much he drank, "Here, you should drink more!" Trench Coat gladly accepted her offer and drank a health serving of it, leaving the glass with more ice than drink. Bri was so happy that he liked it.
"Oh! I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to dri-," Trench Coat, visibly upset, placed the drink back on the bar.
"Don't worry about it, cowboy!" Bri said in a buzzed state, "I'm just so happy to have shared something nice with a kindred spirit!" Brianna picked up the drink and downed it and Trench Coat made a slight noise.
"Kindred spirit?" Trench Coat questioned.
"Oh yeah!" Bri uncharacteristically patted him on his iron pipe feeling arm, "I can totally tell!" After realizing what she was doing, she quickly turned back to the bar, blushing.
"Want another, Bri?" Marla inquired in a sultry voice, making Bri jump.
"Oh please, Ma'am! I'd appreciate it." Bri looked down at her hands while she waited.
"Please allow me to pay for your next drink," Trench Coat's voice soft again. He looked up and Marla nodded.
"You don't have to do that, ah" Bri trailed off as she watched him pull money out of his wallet.
"I really need to be going but maybe we will get to meet here, again? Soon?" Trench Coat placed cash on the bar and began to stand up. "I'm really glad you came and talked to me, though. It…can get lonely."
"I didn't mean to scare you off!" Bri said, surprised at her panic.
"Oh, you didn't. I just really need to get going."
"Oh, okay." Bri looked down at her hands. "Um, if it is okay to ask, you haven't told me your name." He stood up tall, his strong, pultruding jaw highlighted in the light behind him.
He chuckled a little, "I'll tell you next time." He then left the bar as if he could float.
Marla placed the fresh drink gently on the table, "He'll be back, girly. Can't say I've ever seen this side of you." Bri snapped towards her, beet red. Not that anyone could likely tell.
"Thank you for the drink." was all she could muster. Her heart fluttered, and she felt almost dizzy from the exchange.
When she turned around to her friends' table, she nearly jumped out of her skin from the four pairs of eyes. After a short pause and glare, she sat down to their sarcastic cheering.
"Good job, you chased him off," Dan laughed as Carol glared at him.
"Why did he leave? Are you okay?" Her eyes searching Bri's face for distress.
"I think he just had to get going, but he does seem incredibly shy." Bri said with a sigh. "I hope I didn't chase him away. He said he wanted to talk again. Still don't know his name, which was kind of weird. Y'all just need to stop tryin' to set me up an' puttin' me in these annoying situations!"
Between sounds of protest and heckling, Chris leaned forward and said, "First of all, don't listen to Dan and secondly, we are just wanting you to complete our group already!" He rubbed her back.
Bri smiled but a weird irritation and self-doubt feeling sat like a rock in her chest. She began to agonize if she actually had chased him away and why had she felt such a connection with him.
The rest of the night was filled with dancing, drinking, poetry, social commentary, and fart jokes. Bri loved her friends and was determined to get lost in their fun. At the end of the night, they hugged and kissed like family, and said their goodbyes, all heading different directions.
Bri had a good buzz as she approached a rather deserted, dark area of her walk home. With phone in hand and this area never a concern before, she continued to walk, not hyper-focused on her surroundings.
"Hey freaky," a voice called behind her, "you interested in a party?" Bri glanced over her shoulder enough to see three men starting to walk towards her. Her body reacted before her mind did as she took off running as fast as her high heeled Victorian styled boots would allow her. Showing their ill intent, the three men chased her not even bothering with any other communication. Her breathing was limited as her movement due to her clothes, but it wouldn't have mattered, she had never been the fastest runner. At 5' 6'', all she could hope for was finding people.
"Hey girl," a voice said right next to her, "why are you running away? All we want to do is talk." Bri became so startled that she tripped over her own foot and fell hard on the ground. The three men laughed as they surrounded her. One of the men made a production of finding her phone that she had dropped during her fall. "Oh, doll! You dropped your phone!" He then proceeded to smash it her brand-new clamshell on the ground.
"Just leave me alone! I don't know you are!" Bri yelled at the top of her lungs.
"Let me help you up, sweetie," said the man that had caught up to her first. He reached down and aggressively grabbed a handful of hair. As he pulled her up by her hair, she screamed. The other two men smiled at her struggle as one busied himself slipping on a pair of leather gloves.
"Help! Fire! I don't know you! I DON'T KNOW YOU!" She continued to yell with all her might, resisting the pain of her hair being pulled. He was finally able to jerk her to her feet, but she nearly collapsed in pain due to her ankle and let out another yelp.
"Shut up!" the gloved man yelled, eyes red from some substance. The three men pulling her up while Bri resisted being made to mobile. Bri stared at the first man with the greatest anger she had ever felt. He had straw blonde hair and sky blue eyes that looked empty and cold.
"FUCK YOU!" she screamed. "FIRE! FIR…"
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Bri looked up, unable to move. She heard wind blowing hard in her ears as she tried to make sense of all the sensations in her body. The pain, the sound, the weight of her body, the wind. Light from below gave an eerie glow. Her eyes drifted to the night sky.
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She woke up to Tristen, Carol, and Dan sitting in what looked like a hospital. Tristen flipping through the most recent edition of Propaganda, Carol sitting with head against her knees, and Dan looking out the window. She must have made a noise because all three of them turned to her at the same time.
"Oh, sweetie! You're awake!" Tristen ran to her side and kissed her forehead. Carol and Dan ran to the other side. Bri looked at Carol with confusion. "Carol, you look like you have been crying," Bri's throat hurt so bad that what she had said hardly came out. Carol broke out into full tears. Bri reached for her throat just in time for the real pain to start. Everything hurt. She began to move and yelped from the pain. The heart monitors began to scream as nurses came in quickly.
She woke up several hours later to Chris was reading a large novel.
"Holy shit. It's alive." Chris got up and took her hand.
"Chris," she said with a hoarse voice, "what happened? You look like crap."
"I look like crap? Cute. You had a rough night. We called your work and told them you were not likely going to be there on Monday, which is tomorrow by the way." Chris paused. "You just missed everybody. I relieved them." Bri heard a toilet flush. "Is she awake?!" a familiar voice called from the bathroom. After a quick sink sound, Bri's mother, Dee, rushed out and held her daughter tightly.
"What were you thinking?!" Her mom scolded with out wasting time, "Walking by yourself at 2 in the morning?! If you were in Texas, this wouldn't have happened! You wouldn't have been out, walking like that. You would have had a gun!"
"What happened?" was all Bri was able to push out.
Chris began speaking before Dee could say anything that would upset Bri even more. "You were attacked by a group of men." Chris simply stated.
Bri gasped remembering what happened. How far did they go?
"How did I get here? How did y'all know I was here?" Bri asked shakily.
"Well, a very nice young lady, a police detective by the name of Ms. Maza, happened to be in the area and drove you here in her police car. She wasn't able to catch them or get a good look at them, but they have some suspects from other witnesses." Chris had let go of her hand and her mother held more tightly.
"You weren't raped," her mother said quickly, "you were saved before they could go that far but they did knock you out." They were silent. Bri's mother was always good at getting to the point but not always good with tact.
"They caught some men that they think are the suspects. One of the men caught had your ID in his pocket. Detective Maza told us to let you know that you will need to identify them if you can." Chris rubbed his head. "I am still not sure who called Carol, but she was the first to find out. The call came from a nurse at the hospital. Your phone is trashed, by the way. And evidence, apparently."
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The next day, Bri was let out of the hospital with a cast for a hairline fracture in her tibia and thankfully enough pain medicine to knock out an elephant. Her mother cursed during the stupidly long drive to Bri's apartment. Her father, who had been overseas on a business trip, was checking into a hotel that was a block away from Bri's tiny apartment. Bri was grateful to be home but was mortified at her parents seeing her messy apartment full of clutter that she never dusted. Her mom kept a house so clean that you could eat off the floor, but her mom didn't say anything.
Bri cut into the steak that her dad had grilled. Her dad was a food snob in his own sense and bought a fancy outdoor grill for her balcony. It was completely unnecessary, but there was no explaining that to her father.
"Now," Bri's mother said with authority, "when we go to the police station tomorrow, I picked up a large gift basket for Ms. Maza. We owe that young lady your life." Dee began to cry and her father patted his wife's back, fighting his own tears.
"We will drive you there," her mother continued after clearing her voice. "Oh God, why do you just come home with us?" Bri began to speak but her mother interrupted her, "I know, you have a career here. And this closet to live in that costs you ungodly amounts of money a month."
"Ouch, mom," Bri said without energy.
"We miss you, baby. This has been the biggest scare of our entire life." She felt so tiny as she looked at her dad. "And you," he continued, "are our greatest treasure, you know?"
"Dinner is really good, daddy." Bri nearly cried.
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Despite her unimposing size, Detective Elisa Maza was a woman that commanded the room. Bri's father would comment later that she had a good, respectable handshake, which was the kind of complement that meant a lot coming from her father.
Bri was overwhelmed by her parents by this point. Not only had her mother been fussing over her all night, but she also fussed all over her apartment. Then, after fussing over the gift basket, the gift basket had to be checked for security reasons which meant some minor disassembly, to her mother's frustration. Finally, her typically calm father was getting more and more on edge, staring down anyone who accidently made eye contact with the 6'5'' man.
Detective Maza met them in a private room and thanked them for the gift. "Mr. and Mrs. Hord," Detective Maza said, "I would like to speak with Brianna privately, if you don't mind waiting in the waiting area." Detective Maza pointed to a little area with about 10 chairs.
Bri's mother began to protest but her father quickly said, "Baby, if you need us, we will be just right there." Her father took her mother by the hand as she turned back to Bri with desperate eyes. All Bri could do was give a weak wave as they shut the door behind them.
Detective Maza sighed and turned all her attention to Bri.
"I hope it is alright that I asked them to leave." Detective Maza said softly, "This is a difficult enough subject without added interjections, but if want them in here, there are no rules against it."
"Thank you, I might ask them to come in later, but I think this is best for now." Bri said while rubbing her bruised throat. The detective considered her for a moment.
After going through and documenting Bri's statement, Detective Maza switched gears.
"Would you like to know all the information that I know about your case?" Detective Maza opened a file with an air of calm and authority.
"Yes, Ma'am." Bri stopped rubbing her throat and slowly placed her hand on the table.
"You were attached by a group of men that are a part of an up and coming gang called The Challengers. As you can guess, part of what they do is come up with or get paid for offenses to put fear into the public. Those that are successful and make the news, get rewards." Detective Maza pulled a map out of the file showing the current area that The Challengers were known to be. Bri furrowed her brow. A strange ball of confusion, helplessness, and pure rage turned in her stomach.
"I don't understand. How do they make money like that?" Bri hoarsely coughed.
"Most of their ventures are underground, but they have their reasons for the aggression." Detective Maza opened a turned to a small TV with her remote that was placed on the edge of the table. The video began to play with a grainy figure wearing a laced corset running. She pressed mute as the loud sound of heavy breathing and running matched the shaky footage.
"There is a lot of these kinds of videos sold on the internet or are commissioned by seedy types. There are people that pay good money for it." Detective Maza watched Bri closely and, with kindness, opted to stop the video.
"How did I end up in the hospital? How did you find me?" Bri almost breathlessly asked.
"Anonymous calls. You have a good set of lungs on you. I was on my way to another crime scene and heard the dispatch. Being only a block away, I quickly took action. They went running as soon as they saw me." Ms. Maza paused and considered Bri for a moment. "I was not able to catch them but was able to get you to the hospital." The detective was about to continue when a knock on the door interrupted the conversation. "Maza," a large man peered into the room, "we need you for a moment." He politely turned to Bri and acknowledged her with a nod, to which Bri weakly smiled back.
Through non-verbal apology and forgiveness, Detective Maza stood up and hurried out the door, not forgetting to turn off the TV. Bri sat, digesting what was told to her for a few moments, when she gingerly slid the folder on the table towards her. The details written in the folder were a mixture of typed and handwritten notes, but it was a photo that startled her the most. One of the men had been tied with something metallic from a lamp-post. She heard Detective Maza's voice outside the door and she slid the file back into place.
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The line-up process was gut wrenching, but she easily identified two of the men without their voice and the third off a phrase they quoted from her statement. They had been at Precinct 23 for hours, speaking to several different officers along the way. Bri was exhausted in every which way by the time she left, but she was happy that her assault had been solved so nicely. She was so thankful for Detective Maza and gave the woman a big hug before leaving. Bri hobbled out of the police station, still not used to crutches while her father brought the car around. While waiting, she felt the need to look up at the now dark sky and felt overwhelmed by the tall buildings.