All the characters appearing in Gargoyles and Gargoyles: The Goliath Chronicles are copyright Buena Vista Television/The Walt Disney Company. I'm taking the idea of the Unseelie Court from the TGS. No infringement of these copyrights is intended, and is not authorized by the copyright holder. All original characters are the property of SN.

Note: I'm disregarding the events in the "Goliath Chronicles", with the exception of "The Journey" because I do not wish to use the rest of the "Goliath Chronicles" as canon to my story. This story takes place immediately after "Raids".

My Worst Fear

By SN/TVfan

Email: Sam_Nary

London Rooftop

Macbeth gasped as the gargoyle solidified into stone. His thoughts ran quickly from thought to thought. Why is Chloe in the hospital? Which one is she in? Why is Merlin a gargoyle? He had only just returned with the Holy Grail from his raid. And he found the shop on fire and everyone gone. Macbeth quietly found a fire escape and began to climb down. He could tell that he wouldn't get any sleep for awhile. He had to find the hospital that Chloe was in and make sure she was alright. He was sure that he would likely find Arthur with him as well.

Lucius's Headquarters

Lucius felt rather jubilant as he and his slaves returned. He had only ten slaves that he knew of, but the others were easily replaceable. He somewhat resented the Unseelie's idea of revenge. The fire left no evidence of his victory, and with no bodies there was nothing determine whether he had won a complete victory or not. On top of this, every slave that was unconscious inside the building was now dead, thanks to the Unseelie. While they were no more than slaves to Lucius, he knew that this was a strategic error. If Arthur survived, he would find a way to weasel his way out of punishment. If not, there would be no explanation for all the people being in the shop when it burned down. Either way, it risked his organization's discovery. Regardless of these worries however, Lucius was more in the mood for a celebration than for worrying about the problems he had in the battle.

"You seem quite pleased with yourself," came Maddox's voice from beside him.

Lucius turned to see his chief benefactor beside him.

"I am," Lucius smiled, "Arthur has been defeated and his allies have been driven from their base. Now I can deal with them individually."

Maddox chuckled for a few moments, "Unfortunately, I can not allow you to take a leisurely hunt of your enemies. I have affairs in the New World that will require that Macbeth and Arthur remain here. If you do not hurry, there is the risk that they will follow me."

"So I win a victory, free your servant," Lucius retorted, "And I need to go back to work."

Maddox only smiled, "Yes, but that will only mean that you will win a bigger victory soon."

London Hospital

Macbeth nervously walked into the emergency room's waiting room as patients and nurses moved nervously through the crowded lobby. When he made it to the front desk the overworked woman looked at him skeptically and then asked in a cold voice.

"What's wrong with you?"

"Was a woman named Chloe admitted here?" Macbeth asked quickly.

"I'm sorry sir, but to reveal the names of incoming patients is against our policy, sir," the woman answered, "Now, unless you're the Chief Inspector or the King, or unless you have something that demands immediate medical care, please stand aside."

Macbeth stood aside and went to sit down for a few minutes. He sat down and picked up a copy of the London Times. Like every other newspaper in London, it was reporting the fire, but also like every other newspaper, it didn't mention anyone being harmed or someone being taken to the hospital.

"But how and why did it burn down?" Macbeth muttered to himself, "And what has happened to Chloe?"

Meanwhile in a major operating room, several surgeons worked around the unconscious body of a sleeping woman. There was a large hole in one of her shoulders, and they felt very lucky that the woman had survived this long, and even luckier that they were able to stop the bleeding.

"The shoulder blade is shattered," one surgeon reported, "It will need to be stapled back together. The clavicle is broken, and will need to be set."

"Set the bones first," the lead surgeon said, "Be careful not cause her to start bleeding again. Once all the bones are set, we need to start sewing the veins and arteries back together."

Arthur sighed heavily as he walked down the stairs from a waiting room on an upper floor. His left his and Macbeth's 'names' as the people to be either contacted or on the list of people allowed to visit Chloe. His heart told him he should remain at his ally's side until she was able to leave, but his mind reminded him that his age of chivalry and knighthood had long since vanished. Arthur then also chuckled at the irony of his position, one that he felt was shared by others.

Macbeth lived for his family when he was King, and now finds himself fighting for their memory, in a world that would probably ignore him for it. The Legionnaire lived to defend a system of honor that he believed in since the days of Imperial Rome, and while he still defended that system of honor, the world no longer thought that way. And of course there was himself, living by the storybook form of chivalry, which like Ancient Rome's honor, had long since vanished.

"Maybe it's time some of that old stuff came back," Arthur thought as he arrived on the ground floor, and saw a familiar face dozing in a waiting room chair.

Elsewhere

Lucius was somewhat disgruntled that Maddox had decided to cancel out his victory. London would begin running out of homeless people sooner or latter if he were to keep up this pace of recruiting and losing slaves. So far he had captured another ten slaves, but twenty would not be enough to fight the gargoyles that allied themselves with Pendragon and Macbeth.

"Wake up," Arthur insisted as he shook Macbeth another time.

Macbeth slowly shook his head as he sat up, "What...what is it?"

"You must be part hound Macbeth," Arthur commented, "No one else knew what hospital Chloe would be taken to."

"I've been going from hospital to hospital all morning," Macbeth answered weakly.

"Worried about Chloe?" Arthur asked.

"Very much so," Macbeth nodded.

The two medieval kings journeyed to a small diner for lunch as Arthur began to inform Macbeth on what had happened.

"Lucius attacked us shortly after you left," Arthur began, "Merlin was knocked out immediately by something that they probably launched with a catapult or something. He had his slaves free the Morrigan while he and most of the rest of his minions distracted us. It was the Morrigan who burned down the shop."

"Just what we need," Macbeth muttered, "What happened to Chloe?!"

"As Lucius and his mob were withdrawing, on of his slaves attempted to throw his spear at me," Arthur answered, "But Chloe pushed me out of the way and took the blow herself. The spear went through her shoulder and one of her wings."

"God..." Macbeth cursed, "I should have been here."

"It wouldn't have made a difference," Arthur argued, "If you were there they would have made sure to deliver a death blow to you as they entered or at least knock you out to keep you out of the fight."

"Merlin said she's in a hospital," Macbeth commented.

"Yes," Arthur nodded, "He took Chloe's gargoyle essence and gave her his human essence in order to allow her to get into a hospital. I went with her. The doctors have managed to stop the bleeding, but that's about all I know."

"Will she be alright?" Macbeth asked, sounding truly concerned.

"She should be," Arthur answered, "But it is still uncertain as to whether or not they may have to amputate the arm."

"Amputate?" Macbeth muttered in shock as old memories of his own came up...

British Medical Tent, Waterloo, 1815

Macbeth slowly made his way through the crowded camp, his bright red uniform seriously uncomfortable in the Belgian heat. Some things about the day were good for Great Britain and others were bad for the island kingdom. The day before the world's greatest military mind had just been defeated in what would be the final battle of the Napoleonic Wars. Wars that had sprung out of the French Revolution. Wars that Macbeth was certain that Demona had played some part in. That was the real reason why Macbeth fought with the British in these wars. Not because he had opinions about European politics, but because he was searching for gargoyle that had cost him his family with her own treachery.

Unfortunately, it was daytime and Macbeth had not found Demona during the night. For the time being, Lord Wellington was using him as a liaison officer between the hospital and the British Headquarters. As Macbeth walked he heard the pained screams of the men in tents. Men who had been wounded by musket bullets.

"OWWWW! PLEASE DON'T CUT ANY MORE! PLEASE!" was the nerve grinding howl that echoed through the region.

Macbeth shut his eyes for a moment and walked on.

Present

"I pray she does not have to have anything amputated," Macbeth finally muttered, "I've seen situations where whole regiments of men have had their limbs chopped off. Not a pretty sight and definitely not comfortable."

"Technology has advanced greatly, Macbeth," Arthur assured him, "I'm sure that they will make her comfortable before they do anything."

"I still don't want anything to be amputated," Macbeth repeated.

Meanwhile the surgeons continued to work on the woman laying on the table.

"We've got the shoulder blade back together, sir," one surgeon announced in a relieved voice, "But we had to insert metal staples to hold the pieces together."

"What of the clavicle?" the lead surgeon said as he turned to get the needle and thread to sew the arteries and veins back together.

"That was the easy part," the first surgeon replied, "But, I'm afraid that the shoulder blade couldn't be put back together without reopening some of the cuts that we've already closed in order to get the bones in place."

You're saying...?" the lead surgeon stuttered as he turned to see the others leaning close over the woman's wound.

"We need to stop the bleeding again," the surgeon sighed.

Elsewhere

Lucius smirked to himself as he walked along the busy streets. He had a few of his slaves out in teams trying to find where Arthur's gargoyle allies had fled to. He decided that he would first eliminate them, and preferably in the day, than deal with them directly. Now he was preparing to go to a new location to raise a new army. London, as the United Kingdom's capital city was an opportune place for him to operate from, but Lucius knew, that for the sake of secrecy, he would need to recruit new slaves from elsewhere.

"So," Arthur sighed, trying to change the subject, "I've brought you up to speed on everything that's happened here. How did you do?"

Macbeth answered with a weak smile, "The Grail is ours, but I fear we won't be able to use it to our advantage for now."

"Not until the Unseelie Court is defeated," Arthur added quietly.

Unseelie Headquarters

The man known to most people as Maddox walked quietly with the mousey haired man walking behind him.

"Have you found Yixor or Rinn yet?" Maddox asked.

"No," the mousey haired man answered, "Neither elf was present for the ceremony that assured our immunity and I found ashes outside the treasure chamber."

"Playing with fire again," Maddox answered angrily, "The are to be brought to me when they are found."

"I fear something other than their own trouble making is the cause of this," the mousey haired man answered, "None of the stone was burned around the ashes."

"No one knows of our headquarters," Maddox answered, "And if anyone of my court were ever to be captured they are given instructions to only give the location of our gates, and it is impossible to find them..."

"Unless you already know of the gates," the mousey haired man said, "The Legionnaire knows of our gates."

"But he doesn't take members of the court prisoner," Maddox growled, "He kills them. Now begin searching for Yixor and Rinn."

"Yes sir," the mousey haired man sighed.

Tower Bridge, Dusk

Griff and the others awoke to find Arthur standing below them looking out over the Thames. After a few moments he glanced up and motioned to a less crowded location at the end of the bridge. Griff slowly nodded.

"Come on guys," Griff turned to the others, "Arthur will tell us what's up."

Una took a brief glance back toward the location of the old shop, "I'd best collect Merlin first. I'll be back shortly."

Una leaped to go gather Merlin, while the rest leaped to glide to the meeting place. Leo paused for a few moments to watch Una go before following the others.

"Macbeth made it back," Arthur said as they landed, "And he was successful in recovering the Grail. Chloe also appears to be on the road to recovery."

"That's a relief," Octavia sighed from the back, "Where is Macbeth now?"

"Macbeth is still at the hospital," Arthur sighed, "He's waiting to visit Chloe. We meanwhile need to find a safe place for you to sleep."

Macbeth meanwhile sat in a chair in a hospital waiting room. Chloe had apparently survived the entire day in surgery as the doctors put her shoulder back together, but she was still unconscious. He glanced up to see a nurse walk up to him.

"Mister MacDuff?" the nurse asked.

"Yes?" Macbeth asked preparing to get up.

"You may go in now," the nurse said, "But be brief, she needs her rest."

Macbeth entered the fairly dark room. A few dim lights were on, and the open curtains let in more light. Laying on the bed was a woman that looked like a woman in her late thirties to mid-forties. Other than one shoulder being bandaged, the woman looked relatively athletic for her physical age. Macbeth sat down in a chair next to the bed and took Chloe's hand on the unbandaged arm and sighed heavily.

"Please get better," Macbeth whispered to her.

The woman remained asleep.

The Next Day

"I don't know about this," Macbeth muttered as he and Arthur stood outside of the mansion that they had invaded to defeat Lucius for the first time, "It seems like we're walking into a... haunted place."

"Don't worry," Arthur answered, "Merlin's the one who suggested it. If it were haunted he would know."

"We all make mistakes," Macbeth replied.

"Yes, but we need a place to stay," Arthur argued, "This place is well within your price range and it is safe enough for the gargoyles to roost for the day."

Macbeth sighed and turned to the building again, "I suppose it will do. It won't be wise for us to be divided with enemies still out there."

The agent who was selling the house soon returned with a clip board under his arm and a set of keys dangling from his fingers.

"Well... gentlemen, are you... interested in looking over this house?" the agent asked nervously.

Macbeth glanced at the man and then at Arthur and growled inwardly. The old king would rather be sitting with Chloe, waiting for her to wake up, but instead he was stuck with Arthur in front of a guy that was thinking far too much.

"That will be fine," Arthur said politely.

The London clan walked quietly into the large dwelling and marveled at the size of the building, which they didn't really have the chance to do before.

"I hope Chloe gets better soon," Griff commented, "I'm sure she'd love this."

"I hope she gets better for Macbeth's sake," Merlin corrected, "From what I understand, he's been wanting to stay with her until she wakes up and can leave the hospital."

Chloe slowly felt herself awaken from what felt like a deeper hibernation than she had ever known. Her eyes felt heavy and something about her felt strange.

"Arthur... are... you... okay?" Chloe asked weakly.

"Chloe?" came a voice from beside her.

"Macbeth?" Chloe asked turning her head in the direction of his voice, wincing as she felt serious pain in her shoulder.

She saw Macbeth sitting in what looked like a seriously uncomfortable chair, and what surprised her more was that the room she was in was not a room in which she was familiar.

"Where am I?" Chloe asked weakly.

"You're in a hospital," Macbeth answered, "No I want you to remain calm. But you were gravely injured in Lucius's attack."

"A hospital?" Chloe said suspiciously, "But stone sleep should have cured me."

Macbeth sighed and placed both of his hands on the hand that Chloe had closest to him, "It would have, if you could have made it to sunrise. Merlin's turned you into a human so you could come to the hospital. You were very close to death."

"I'm human?" Chloe asked in a very puzzled tone as she struggled to get the hand that Macbeth was holding into a position in which she could see it. She silently gasped as she saw five pink fingers.

Macbeth watched as Chloe seemed to be more hurt by the revelation that she was human than by the fact that she had had reconstructive surgery on one of her shoulders.

"Once you heal, Merlin will be able to change you back," Macbeth said in a comforting tone, "But it was the only way to save your life."

Chloe felt herself sink back into the bed. She looked at her wounded shoulder and sighed at the sight of the wrapped bandages and the shoulder cast.

"How long will it take to heal?" Chloe asked.

"I don't know," Macbeth sighed, "Before the Weird Sisters granted me the 'gift' of immortality, if someone suffered such an injury they would probably be left to die because they didn't have the ability to save them. Once that happened... my body has had the ability to regenerate itself."

"I'm sorry," Chloe said as she began to drift of to sleep.

"It's alright," Macbeth answered with a smile, "I'm just glad you're going to get better."

"Thanks," Chloe answered.

Silently Chloe drifted of to sleep again, while Macbeth sat quietly at her side. As he did so, Macbeth promised to help her on what would surely be a long recovery.

The End