"Lost Souls and Heavy Hearts"
by Angel H.
limwyvern@hotmail.com
limwyvern@hotmail.com
Set sometime after "Metamorphosis".
Summary: My version of "Runaways". Brooklyn finds a lost soul and helps her get back on track.
Disclaimer: Disney owns Gargoyles, but I created Raeshan. (There, it's short sweet and simple.)
Random Ramblings: Yeah, I know this story wasn't on the "Coming Attractions" I posted on my last story, (BTW, thanks to everyone who wrote to me) but I'm in kind of a pissy mood and I needed to write something. A picture of a girl popped into my mind, and then this story was born. A big hello to my runnin' buddy (oops! - I mean "strollin' buddy" ^_^) Chibi Alex-Chan. Also, hiyas to Shadow Gargoyle, Lisette, and Skydancer.
Brooklyn needed some time out on his own tonight. He felt like such a fool. How could he have even hoped that Maggie would like him? She was scared, frightened. She thought that he was a monster, and she was afraid that that was what she was becoming as well. He thought that maybe he could help her. Make her see that this life wasn't as bad as it seemed. . . .
Aw, who was he kidding? How could he have ever hoped that Maggie would be happy having to hide from the people she used to walk amongst each day. They'd call her a monster, just as they called him times before.
As he glided through the starry sky, his mind drifted back to the night when Demona tricked him into stealing the Grimoram from the castle so she could use it on Goliath. Even though Elisa had proven more than once that she was loyal to the clan, he couldn't help but begin to think that maybe there was a small ring of truth to what Demona said.
But, no. If that was so, then how can. . . .But then. . . .
Brooklyn's mind became muddled with his own thoughts. He caught an updraft and let the cool night air shift through his hair. He breathed in the cool breeze, and his eyes drifted down towards the city. Startled, something caught his attention.
Standing on a roof of an old apartment building was a human figure. The person stood simply and stared straight ahead, with her hands behind her back and a pensive look on her small face.
Wait a minute! "Her" hands?!? "Her" face?!? Brooklyn did a double take as he realized that the person was female. Her small frame was wrapped in dark, loose-fitting clothing which hid her figure, so at first, he could not discern her gender. Suddenly curious about this odd little creature, he carefully and quietly descended until he landed behind the stairway roof access. Now that he was closer, he could tell that the back of her head was mostly shaved off. The rest had been dyed dark purple, but her dark roots were exposed. She wore a dusty old, black leather jacket that hanged off her thin arms. Dingy black jeans that were two sizes two large fit clumsily around her legs and were pulled up above her knees. Clunky and raggedy boots encased her feet.
"Hi there," she said suddenly. "Aren't you going to say hello?"
Brooklyn was shocked to say the least. Her back was still facing him, so he was pretty sure that she hadn't seen him. He stayed hidden in the shadows as he replied. "Hi. I'm sorry if I intruded or anything."
"No, you're not interrupting anything," she said. "I'm just here. . . . thinking."
"Yeah, I can see that," Brooklyn said, smiling.
The young lady giggled and turned her head, still smiling. Brooklyn immediately noticed her large, ice-blue eyes that were almost silver, set-off by her dark lashes and pale face. She was a few years younger than he in human years, perhaps fourteen or fifteen. He was oddly hypnotized by her eyes, and he was about to approach when he suddenly began to think of the consequences.
The girl cocked her head to one side. "What's the matter? You shy?"
"Yeah, you could say that."
The girl shrugged. "Yeah, I know. I used to be shy, too."
Brooklyn chuckled. "With *that* hair?"
She laughed as well, and tugged at a lock of purple that hanged loosely by her eyes. "Hey, I said I used to be shy."
"How did you change?"
The girl's smile disappeared and she averted her eyes. "I dunno," she said softly. "I guess I just got tired of it."
Brooklyn quirked his eyebrow, puzzled. "Got tired of what?"
She had turned back towards the edge of the roof and was facing outwards again. "Everything, I suppose," she stated plainly. Her head hanged low as she gathered her thoughts. Then, she took a deep breath and began her tale. "My. . . my dad. . . he died a long while back. I was really young, so I don't remember him that much."
"I-I'm sorry," Brooklyn responded softly.
The girl shruggged and continued, "The thing I mostly remember was how his death affected Mom. She was so screwed up about it. She never did fully get over it." She sighed. "She started drinking, and soon, she was going out with every loser that happened to walk by. I know she thought that maybe she would find another man like Dad, or maybe she did this to try to get over him. I dunno." She lowered her head again and fought to hold back her tears. "All I do know, is that she just got worse and worse. *Things* got worse and worse. I helped her out in every way that I could, but things never got any better. I had to leave. I couldn't stay there and watch her self-destruct like that. . . " Her voice trailed off, and from where he was standing, Brooklyn could see the first of her tears sparkle like the stars in the sky as they ran down her cheek. He wanted to go out to her, but he was afraid that his appearance would only upset her more.
Instead, he asked, "Where are you staying now?"
She quickly wiped the tears away and turned back to face him. "Right now, I'm staying with my new friend in this building. I'm not homeless or anything," she said.
"Are you sure you can trust this 'new friend'?" Brooklyn asked her.
"Oh yeah! He's pretty cool," she said with a grin. "Besides, who else can I trust?"
"You could trust me." Brooklyn clamped his beak shut, but only after he realized what he had just said.
The young girl only smiled at him. "Yeah, I guess I can trust you, can I?"
Although, she wasn't sure, the girl could almost swear she saw a smile cross his face.
"What's your name?" she finally asked him.
"Oh, my name is Brooklyn," he responded.
"Brooklyn?" she giggled. Then she she rolled her silver eyes skyward in thought. "Brooklyn . . . I like it!"
Brooklyn laughed. "What about yours?"
"Guess!" she said teasingly.
"Rumplestilskin?" he exclaimed, sarcastically.
The young girl threw back her head and laughed. It sounded like tiny bells in the wind. "Nope! It's Rachel-Anne Tenison, but everyone calls me Raeshan."
Brooklyn crossed his arms and regarded the petite human girl. "Okay, Raeshan."
Raeshan walked closer to where Brooklyn was hiding. When he shrank back into the shadows, she stopped and extended her hand. She put the other hand on her hip in mock-impatience, and said, "C'mon Brooklyn! We're friends now, aren't we?"
Brooklyn considered this for a moment. If he scared her away, then he could lose a good friend forever. Then again. . . .
Brooklyn sighed, "Okay, but brace yourself."
Slowly, Brooklyn crept out of the shadows and stood away from the stairwell. When he first stepped out, Raeshan took a few timid steps back, suddenly aware of his size. When he finally emerged into the moonlight, her large eyes were virtual saucers. Carefully, she approached him, and then, she walked a wide circle around him, taking in his wings, his tail, his face. . . . everything. When she came back around the front, she continued to stare at him, open-mouthed.
Feeling uneasy beneath the girl's gaze, he cleared his throat and said, "So, uh, how're ya doin'?"
Raeshan took a deep breath, and Brooklyn braced himself for the inevitable scream. But all that came out was -
"WOW!!!"
Brooklyn was a little surprised, if not startled by her response. After all, when Elisa first met Goliath, she had fallen off the building. He checked behind Raeshan to make sure she wasn't standing too close to the edge.
"This is *so* cool! Where did you come from?"
As Brooklyn told her the story about the gargoyle clan and the thousand-year-old spell, he felt happy that he had found a new friend. He knew that Lexington had a bad experience when he trusted the Pack, but this felt right somehow.
They sat on that rooftop and talked all night. Then Brooklyn noticed how late it was getting and said he had to go. He watched as Raeshan descended the stairs to her friend's apartment, and they agreeed to meet together again the next night.
When Brooklyn glided back to the clock tower, a smile was pasted on his face and his heart felt warm. He no longer felt the gloom that had racked his body only mere hours before. He was back to his old self again.
When he returned to the tower, his clanmates also noticed his change in attitude. Before the sun rose, he told him about the human girl he had met and how they spent all night just talking and making jokes. "She's a really cool person, and I'm meeting her again tomorrow night."
"Uh-oh! It looks like Rebound-Boy has a new girl," Lex said teasingly.
"Stop it! It's not even like that," Brooklyn exclaimed. "I just have fun with her. She's a nice person."
"What's her name again?" Elisa asked. She came up to the clock tower to see the guys off to dreamland.
"Raeshan," Brooklyn replied, "but her real name's Rachel-Anne Tenison."
"Rachel-Anne Tenison," Elisa echoed. For some reason, that name sounded hauntingly familiar. Oh well, she'll check on it later.
The sun began to peek over the horizon, and the gargoyles climbed their perches. As the sun froze him in stone, a contented smile stayed on Brooklyn's face.
For the next few days - after he finished his patrols with Goliath, of course - Brooklyn and Raeshan became close friends. They continued to laugh and have fun together. One day, Brooklyn took her out gliding, and she was laughing all the way. Once he held her by her arms and she let her feet hydroplane across a small pond in Central Park. She said she had seen it once in a movie, and it was even more fun than it looked.
One day, they were soaring above a group of apartment duplexes, looking at the normal-looking houses, thinking about the seemingly-normal people inside. Suddenly, Brooklyn noticed that his friend had become quiet. He looked over at her, and saw that same pensive look on her face she had when he first met her.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
Raeshan nodded to one particular building. "That," she said plainly.
Brooklyn looked down. In the yard in front of the building, were sparse patches of long grass. The top window was dark and covered in a thick film of grime and dirt. The bottom window, however, was lit by a soft glow. A shadow occasionally moved from behind it. Parked in front of the building was an old rust-colored automobile that looked as though it seen better days.
Comprehension dawned on his face when he felt Raeshan tense as the shadow moved behind the window. "This is your house, isn't it?"
Raeshan only nodded.
Brooklyn landed on the building directly across from it. He set Raeshan down and watched as she observed the house with a look of longing in her silvery-blue eyes. He approached her from behind and said, "You can go home, you know."
Raeshan shook her head, causing her purple locks to fall into her face. "No! I-I can't go back!" Her voice quivered as she tried to hold back her tears.
"I know you miss your mother, Raeshan, and she must miss you, too."
"Hmph! I bet she doesn't" she said, crossing her arms over her chest, stubbornly.
Brooklyn pulled something out of the pouch that hanged off his loincloth. He handed Raeshan a folded piece of paper. Raeshan opened it and gasped.
It was a "Missing Child" poster. . . of her!
"My friend Elisa found it in a store," Brooklyn told her. "She said she had recognized your name from somewhere. When she went shopping for groceries, she found this on the bulletin board."
Raeshan was speechless. The picture was a few years old. Her short, purple hair was down to her shoulders and was a rich shade of brown. A small smile on her face concealed her hidden pain.
Rashan pulled the paper close to her body and took a deep breath. That's when the tears started to flow. . .
Brooklyn pulled her close and let her cry into his chest, slowly comforting her. . . .steadily healing her.
When she calmed down, Raeshan stepped back and wiped her face with her jacket sleeve. She turned and approached the edge of the building and looked at her former home. When she saw the shadow pass by once more, she quickly turned away. "No! I can't! What if nothing's changed? What if - ?"
"You can do it, Rae!" Brooklyn exclaimed as he grabbed her shoulders and looked directly into her eyes. "I know you can. You're strong, and if you ever need help, I'll. . . I'll always be there for you."
Raeshan looked into his eyes and saw kindness and sincerity. Then she let a brave smile cross her face as she nodded her head in affirmation. All of a sudden, she wrapped her arms around Brooklyn's waist and hugged him tightly. "Thank you," she whispered softly. "For everything."
Brooklyn returned the embrace and said simply, "You're welcome."
Brooklyn carried her down to the ground and watched as she began to cross the street. She stoppped in the middle of the quiet street and turned around and waved. "Goodbye Brooklyn," she said.
Brooklyn waved back. "Goodbye. . . Rachel-Anne."
Then, Rachel-Anne Tenison stepped up to the door and pulled out an old key the hanged on a chain around her neck. She inserted the key, turned the lock, and opened the door. With one last look towards Brooklyn, she stepped through the door and was engulfed by the light of the well-lit hallway.
Brooklyn smiled. He had just helped his friend more than he could ever know.
The next night, Brooklyn was inside, telling the others what had conspired the night before. Just then, Elisa climbed up the clock tower stairs. "Brooklyn!" she called.
"Hey Elisa! What's up?" He was still beaming from the warm glow in his heart that had stayed with him all day.
Elisa said a quick greeting to the rest of the clan, and then turned back to Brooklyn. "Uh, Brooklyn? Can I talk to you for a minute?"
Confused, Brooklyn merely nodded and followed Elisa outside, leaving the others with bewildered looks on their faces. Once outside, Elisa asked, "Brooklyn, what was the name of your friend again?"
"Rachel-Anne Tenison," he replied. Elisa peeked inside a manila folder that Brooklyn just now noticed she had with her. She slammed it shut again and muttered a short curse. Brooklyn didn't understand. "What? What's going on? Is she okay? What happened?"
Elisa looked him straight in the eye. "Brooklyn, Rachel-Ann was reported missing almost a year ago - "
"I know that! That's where you recognized her, from the Missing Person reports." Brooklyn was getting impatient. Why couldn't Elisa tell him what was going on?
The raven-haired detective lowered her eyes and shook her head. She looked back up at Brooklyn and her brown, almond eyes showed sadness and sympathy. "Brooklyn, a couple of weeks ago, a shoot-out occured inside an apartment during a drug raid. There was a wild party, and the police got a call that there was some drug use and underage drinking. They went to check it out, but one of the guests who was selling the drugs began to open fire. The police started shooting back and a couple of people got killed in the crossfire. One of them was a twenty-year-old male and another. . . was a fourteen-year-old girl."
Elisa opened up the folder and took out a couple of pictures, both in black and white. One of the pictures was of the girl's body, laying on the floor and twisted in an odd angle, as if her body had been flailing about as the bullets hit her. The other picture was of the girl's face, so calm and serene, as though she was sleeping.
Elisa then handed him the picture from the poster. . . a picture of child who had to grow up too fast. . . and had lived too short.
The girls' faces matched perfectly.
The murdered girl was Raeshan.
"No. This. . . . This can't be right! I saw her *yesterday*!! This can't be Raeshan!!!"
"I'm sorry Brooklyn. I don't know what to say," Elisa replied. "We found the girl's mother, and she identified the body. She said she was getting her life back together in case the police found her daughter. Unfortunately, they found her in this way."
Brooklyn shook his head, not believing his eyes. . . his ears. With a frustrated growl, he threw the pictures on the floor of the balcony and glided away.
Brooklyn glided and glided until his wings were sore. Despite the numbing pain, he continued on.
Why? He asked himself. Why did she have to leave me, too? Why was she a ghost, and why did I have to care about her?
"Brooklyn. . . "
Brooklyn blinked in surprise. He could have sworn he heard her voice, but that. . . . That's impossible!
A sudden flash of light caught Brooklyn's eye. On the rooftop of a nearby building stood a glowing figure. . .
Raeshan.
Brooklyn descended and regarded the ghostly apparition with shock and amazement. Instead of the dark, loose clothing that he always saw her in, she wore a simple, white, flowing gown. Her now sable hair was cut neatly down to her shoulders and her large blue eyes twinkled when she smiled at him.
"Wow!" she giggled. "Does anyone else feel deja-vu?"
"Why did you do it?" he asked her, unable to take his eyes of his friend.
"I needed your help," she replied gently. "My soul couldn't rest, but I wasn't sure why. I was stuck in this realm and couldn't pass through the gate until my business here on earth."
"So you had to go home, and tell your mother goodbye," Brooklyn concluded. Rachel-Anne nodded and sprinkles of light fell from her hair. Brooklyn sighed and asked her,"What happended at that party? You weren't involved in drugs, were you?"
Raeshan scrunched her face in disgust. "No! Not after I saw how it affected my mom." Her face became a mask of seriousness as she continued the story. "My friend decided to hold the party, and few of his druggie friends stopped by. Things got loud and a little rowdy, and the police showed up. A guy pulled out a gun, and well. . ." She motioned to her near-transparent body. "Things happened."
Brooklyn lowered his head as tears threatened to flow down his face.
Rachel-Anne looked into his eyes and said softly, "I know you think that I tricked you, but I really didn't mean to." She put a hand behind her head in embarrassment. "It even took me a while to realize I was, well, dead. I didn't fully comprehend it all until I walked back into my old house."
"Elisa said that your mother had started cleaning up her act, so that you could home and begin anew."
Rachel-Anne replied, "I know. She hasn't given up, and she never will either. She has to keep her chin up for the arrival of my new sister."
Brooklyn's eyes widened. "Your sister? Your mother is pregnant?"
Rachel-Anne smiled and her eyes twinkled again. "Yep!" Then her face grew serious. "Promise me something Brooklyn?"
Brooklyn nodded. "Anything."
"Keep an eye on them with me?"
"What do you mean 'with you'?" Brooklyn asked.
"I'll always be there, watching over them. . . and you." Brooklyn blushed slightly. "But I'll need a little help. Are ya up for it?"
Brooklyn smiled at her. "Sure."
Raeshan's eyebrows quirked upwards as though she had heard something. She turned back to Brooklyn with a sad smile on her face. "I have to go now."
Brooklyn nodded. "I understand." His voice quivered somewhat, and the first of his tears started to fall down his face.
Suddenly, she was standing right in front of him. She half-tiptoed, half-floated up to his face and slowly kissed him on his cheek. He closed his eyes. It felt warm, but only slightly tangible.
When he opened his eyes again, she was gone, the kiss still lingering in the nerves on his face. He turned in all directions, looking for any sign of her. Then the sound of small bells rang through the air. Brooklyn looked up and saw a bright star winking at him.
The tears finally came. "Goodbye, Rachel-Anne," he whispered softly.
Sniff! Tell me, is it a good thing, when you cry at your own sappy endings? [Blows nose. . ] All better now. Anyway, I had never really meant this to be similar to "Runaways". In fact the realization of the similarities didn't strike me until I had writen more then half of the story. (I wrote my summary last.) Also, I would like to say that this is not, nor was it intended to be, a "Brooklyn-Gets-A-Mate" story. His relationship with Raeshan was totally platonic, as you can see in the line ". . why did I have to care about her?" I've been getting alot of letters (thank you *so* much!) asking why my stories are so short. If I can get my other stories typed without getting distracted by my little spur-of-the-moment creativity demons, I'll post up longer, stories with more action, more mystery, more suspense, etc. Before I go, I would like to say to say, in closing, that if you ever get in a pissy mood, expressing yourself through pictures, writings, etc. is always a good idea instead of taking your anger out on others. Take me, for example. I was pissed off at the world, and look at me now!! [Grins largely. . ] Anyway, as always, I eagerly await your comments, questions, and criticism at the above address. P.S. Give yourself ten points if you remember the movie where hydroplaning by your feet came from!
Buh-bye! ^_~ Dedicated to the loving memory of Mrs. Jean B. Maclin
1929-1998
I love you, Grandmama.