Understanding

Author's Note: My obsession with '90s Disney cartoons continues! Set sometime after the Gargoyles and Xanatos make peace. When the Phoenix Gate mysteriously returns to him, Goliath is transported back into the past, and gains some insight into what drives his enemy-turned-ally. One-shot.

Goliath supposed he should have known something like this would happen.

After all, things had been far too quiet lately, far too peaceful, far too happy. He and his clan, along with his beloved daughter, had been able to return to their ancestral home, in a manner of speaking. He had also begun a relationship with Elisa, and even knowing how difficult it might get, the simple joy of loving the remarkable human woman greatly outweighed any risks or drawbacks. There were still plenty of things to worry about, enemies to be on the lookout for, but on the bright side, there was one less enemy now: they had made peace Xanatos.

This last fact still made Goliath a bit uneasy, and he suspected it always would. True, he genuinely believed that the man had changed from when he first knew him, largely through his genuine love for Fox and their child, Alexander. After he and his clan had helped him keep his son, he had made good on his promise to repay them, though Goliath didn't always approve of his methods.

He was well aware, however, that Xanatos was still fairly amoral and greatly ambitious – not exactly a trustworthy combination. He could respect him on some levels, and could understand his love for and devotion to his family, but in other ways, he couldn't really comprehend the man at all.

In any case, aside from some unease in the change of the Clan's relationship to David Xanatos, Goliath had felt fairly content as of late – almost complacent, as a matter of fact. So really, it was no wonder that fate, or whatever one wanted to call it, had stepped in to remind him never to get too comfortable.

He still didn't know exactly what happened. All he knew was that the Phoenix Gate had appeared suddenly, out of nowhere, and had engulfed him in its spell. It almost seemed as if the magical object had developed a mind of its own. And it had brought him back in time.

At least the Gate had seen fit to deposit him in a dark alleyway. While not an entirely pleasant place, it was certainly better than appearing amidst a crowd of humans, or some other such thing. From his place in the shadows, Goliath barely dared to move, observing his surroundings with a quiet intensity and trying to determine where and when he was. He was vaguely aware that it had to be the past; the style of clothing and of vehicles were reminiscent of what he'd glimpsed in some of the "old" television shows that Hudson enjoyed watching these days. Yet it couldn't have been too far back in the past, because he knew things such as cars were a relatively new human invention. He hazarded a guess that he hadn't traveled that far back in time – a decade or two, perhaps a little more.

As for the where part, he wasn't sure why, but he felt fairly certain he was still somewhere in the country called the United States of America. The place was familiar and unfamiliar all at once. He supposed he could emerge from the alley, cautiously, to explore further, but something told him to wait.

And it was not long before something happened. A young human boy who looked to be no older than ten ran into the alley. He had bronze skin, dark brown hair, and wide brown eyes. Goliath was in a corner, cloaked in shadow; his wings were furled, and he was fairly certain all the young boy might be able to make out of him was a vaguely human shape.

"Hello?" The boy called out uncertainly. "Is – is someone there? Please –"

He was cut off when a thuggish-looking man rounded the corner after him. Taking no notice of Goliath, the man grabbed the boy roughly, snarling "I'm gonna teach you a lesson, you little punk!"

That was when Goliath's protective instincts kicked in. He unfurled his wings and roared. The man's eyes went wide with fear, and he fled, knocking the boy to the ground in his haste.

For a moment, Goliath was ready to chase after him, but thought better of it. He looked down where the boy lay, apparently unconscious at his feet. He was uncertain of what to do. He wanted to see the boy safely to his parents. Of course, there was the possibility that the man he'd just scared away had actually been his father – not all parents were good ones – but somehow, Goliath doubted it. For one thing, even in the brief glimpse he'd gotten, Goliath could tell the man and the boy looked nothing alike.

The boy stirred, and Goliath retreated again into the shadows as the boy sat up, gingerly clutching his head.

"Hello? What … it was you, wasn't it?" The boy said, and pointed into the darkness, though he still could not quite make Goliath out. "You saved me from that jerk, didn't you?"

Goliath hesitated, and finally gave a soft "Yes" in reply.

The boy smiled slightly, but it quickly faded. He stood up and dusted himself off. "Um … could you please come out so I could see you? I'd like to thank you properly."

His manners were polished for one so young, Goliath thought. "That … is not possible."

The boy's brow furrowed. "What's the matter? Are you … disfigured or something? It doesn't matter to me what you look like, you know. My mother always says appearances don't really matter. Which is weird, when you consider how upset she got the last time my room was messy." The boy smiled again briefly, and then his face took on a pained expression, as if he'd just remembered something he'd been endeavoring to forget. "Said," he correctly himself sadly.

"What do you mean?" Goliath asked despite himself.

"It something my mother said, something she used to say … before she died." The boy's voice caught, and Goliath felt genuine sympathy for him.

"I'm sorry."

The boy sighed. "Today was her funeral," he said, almost as if he were talking to himself. "I got into a fight with my father on the steps of the church and ran away from him. Then I bumped into that thug, and … I was mad, so instead of apologizing I … uh … said something I probably shouldn't have."

"And then he chased you here."

"Yes," the boy confirmed. "And then you save my butt, even though I don't who you are, or even what you look like."

The clear implication was that the boy wanted him to reveal himself, but Goliath knew he couldn't. "I'm sorry," he said, "but I'm afraid my identity will have to remain a mystery to you, young man." The boy cocked his heads.

"You know, most days, I'd take that as a challenge, but today … today I just don't care." He shrugged.
"Well, I suppose I should introduce myself, even if you won't. I'm David."

Goliath's eyes widened. Was that why the boy had looked vaguely familiar?

"David … Xanatos?" Goliath asked incredulously. The boy's eyes narrowed.

"That's right. How'd you know my last name?"

"I'm afraid I can't tell you that either." It only took a split second, but Goliath decided not to reveal himself to the young Xanatos. He was tempted to say something, but he didn't want to alter the future in ways he couldn't anticipate.

The boy snorted. "Well, you're just a fountain of information, aren't you?" He said, sounding more like the man Goliath knew. Then his shoulders slumped, and he sat on the ground dejectedly, and quite suddenly, Goliath couldn't see him as anything more than a sad little child.

"Maybe you're not even real," he said softly. "Maybe I'm losing it. Why else would I be so stupid as to run away from my own father, say those awful things? Maybe I deserve to go nuts."

"You're not crazy, young man; you're just grieving." Something in the softness of the voice caused tears to form in the boy's eyes, which he angrily wiped away.

"You didn't hear what I said to my father. I told him … I blamed him … I said that it was his fault that mom died." The young Xanatos was crying openly now. "I told him if we'd had more money for medicine, for doctors, that she would have …" He stood up, suddenly angry. "It's not fair! She shouldn't have had to die! There had to be some way to stop it! If we … if I had money, if I had power, I would have been able to stop it from happening!"

"No –"

But he was no longer listening. "One day," he vowed. "One day it won't be like this. One day, I'll have power, I'll have money, and nothing and no one will be able to hurt me again! I promise you," he said the last words in a fierce whisper. "Whoever you are, I promise you it will happen."

Goliath felt suddenly cold, and said the only thing he could think of. "You don't understand. Money and power will not bring back what you've lost, and they will leave you empty without love. Besides … the future … is not written yet."

The boy looked as if he did not know what to say to that. He peered into the darkness. "Who are you?" He demanded, and then his eyes widened, as if he was now able to make out some of Goliath's not-quite-human appearance. "What are you?"

He had been about to tell the young Xanatos that this was another question he couldn't answer, but suddenly, he was again engulfed in the Phoenix Gate's magic. He was returned to his own time, much to the relief of his Clan and Elisa, who had been there when the gate had appeared and transported him. He assured them that he was fine, but declined to tell them exactly what had happened. There was really only one person with whom he could discuss this experience.

"Good evening, Goliath. I heard you had a little 'adventure' a few nights ago. I hope everything is alright –"

"Did you know?" Goliath demanded. "All this time, did you know it was me, that night in the alley?"

Xanatos' smile faded. "No," he said earnestly. "No, I didn't. When all of you first woke up, I thought there was something familiar about you, about your voice … but … I didn't… you see, I was young, and as you might imagine, that wasn't a very happy time in my life. I don't remember a lot of what happened back then. The truth is, I didn't want to remember." For an instant, he saw a flash of pain and vulnerability in the man's eyes that he had seen in the boy's. "After a while, I began to have the uncanny feeling that I had met you somewhere before. I told myself it was impossible, since you'd been frozen in stone for a thousand years, but somehow, the feeling remained. It wasn't until the night when you helped save my son that I finally remembered. It was something you said then. 'The future is not written yet.' It was the same thing you said the other night, all those years ago. That's when I knew."

"And you kept this information to yourself." Goliath's disapproval was evident.

Xanatos had an explanation ready. "I saw only two possibilities. One, you already knew about it because you'd already done it, gone back in time, perhaps during your travels from Avalon. If that was case, you apparently didn't care to discuss it with me, so why bring it up? The other option was that you hadn't gone yet. And if that were true, then telling you about what happened before you actually experienced it could have caused you to act differently when it did happen, or even let you manage to avoid it altogether. Even though what happened might have seemed insignificant, changing it could have had unforeseen, unintended consequences. Don't you agree?"

Goliath wanted to deny it, but he couldn't fault the man's logic. "I suppose you're right," he admitted grudgingly.

Xanatos shrugged. "Well, there you are then. Are there any other questions I can answer for you?"

"I suppose not," Goliath said, though still felt slightly irritated, as though the man had gotten one over on him.

"Then if you don't mind, I've got some work to do." Goliath nodded, and turned to leave, but seemed to reconsider. "There is one thing."

"Yes?"

"What was your mother's name?"

For once, he had the pleasure of seeing Xanatos caught completely off guard. Clearly, out of all the questions the gargoyle could have asked, this was the one had not expected at all.

"Alexandria," he said softly. Goliath had heard that he and Fox had named their son after the conqueror Alexander the Great, a symbol of their high ambitions for them. He found himself rather pleased him to know the boy might have instead been named for a lost loved one.

"A good name," he said.

Xanatos smiled, just a bit sadly. "I've always thought so." The man looked down at the papers on his desk, and then suddenly, swept them aside and into a desk drawer. "I'm done for the night."

"I thought you said you had more work to do."

"You are a wiser man than I am, Goliath. It took me almost losing my family to realize how much they mattered, how they were more important than anything else. Paperwork can wait. I'm going to be with my wife and son."

Goliath said nothing in response, but Xanatos could have sworn he saw slightest trace of an approving smile on his face. He nodded, and left the room.

"Owen," Xanatos called a moment later, and his ever-faithful right-hand man entered.

"Yes sir?"

"I'm taking off early for the night. Please don't bother me unless there's an emergency, okay?"

"Understood." His aide was as inscrutable as usual. Xanatos stood there for a moment, debating on whether to ask the next question.

"Sir?" Owen queried politely. "Was there something else?"

Finally, his curiosity got the better of him. "Was it you who set this little interlude in motion, my friend?" he asked. "Was it you who sent Goliath back into my past?"

Owen's smooth brow furrowed. "I'm not sure what you mean –"

"Owen –"

"And respectfully sir, even if I did know, and assuming that I could somehow control the Phoenix Gate … well, as you are well aware, doing something like that would almost certainly require abilities which I no longer possess, save for certain specific circumstances."

Perhaps he was imagining it, but Xanatos thought he detected a hint of bitterness and sadness in the usually stoic voice. Imagined or not, he still felt a twinge of guilt, and decided to let the matter drop.

"You're quite right Owen. Forgive my presumption."

"No need to apologize, sir."

"Well … goodnight then." He started to leave the room.

"I will say, however," Owen added softly, just before Xanatos left, "that the rule that cannot be broken, can usually at least be bent." Xanatos raised a brow.

"Really?"

Owen turned towards him with the smallest hint of a smile on his face.

"Goliath is an uneasy ally, and still has the potential to become a problem for you. Sending him back to the past to meet your younger self may have softened his view of you, and broadened his understanding of the man you've become, cementing his status as a friend, and not an adversary. This protects you, and in turn, protects your son." Xanatos grinned.

"So you figured a more liberal interpretation of the rule would allow you to use your magic more often."

Owen's subtle smile widened ever so slightly. "I never said it was my magic that did this."

For just a moment, Xanatos didn't understand, and then his eyes widened with comprehension. "Alexander? Owen, are you saying that he –"

"Is an extremely intelligent and eager young student, sir." The smile was almost a smirk now. "And if I may say, he is not alone in thinking that Goliath should not judge you so harshly."

"That's very kind of you to say, my friend, especially considering what I've cost you."

For an instant, he saw a flash of pain in those ice-blue eyes, a look so intense it nearly took his breath away. Then the moment passed, leaving Xanatos to wonder if he hadn't imagined something again.

"Mr. Xanatos," he said quite calmly, even while avoiding his gaze, "In regards to my … situation, as it were … the simple truth of the matter is that I have no one to blame but myself. I made a decision, and now I have to live with my choice."

Xanatos sighed. "Still … I wish …" he didn't know how to finish.

"What is that old expression?" For a moment, his friend seemed almost wistful, a most un-Owen-like thing. "'If wishes were horses, beggars would ride?' Is that how it goes, sir?"

The man smiled slightly. "Yes, that's it. I think I understand."

"Well, that's what matters, isn't it?" Owen said mildly. "Good night to you, sir. Enjoy your time with your family. Should you need anything, I will be here." Xanatos nodded, clapped Owen's shoulder briefly, and left.

And a moment after he was gone, Owen said quietly, with equal parts despair and pride, "I will always be here."