Trigger Warnings for this chapter: brief choking.
Chapter Eleven
The bridge that had gifted Brooklyn with his name haunted him in the distance to his right, colossal and anchored across the East River. He thought of how Goliath was a walking contradiction to his own namesake, how the humans saw only his sheer size and labeled it as something monstrous. Would the humans have picked something equally as grotesque, given the chance, for Brooklyn?
What name would Goliath have chosen for himself?
Brooklyn wanted to ask but he kept his mouth wired so tightly shut that his temples ached. They glided side by side in silence, letting the wind gradually lift them through a mist of clouds, until there was only an ocean of sky and the Wyvern castle in their sights. For the upteenth time, Brooklyn turned over his shoulder and used one hand to pull white hair away from his eyes so he could see the yellow orb of the clockface tower, but it was gone.
"They will be fine," Goliath said warmly, offering as much of a reassuring smile as he could. "We will be back before we know it."
Brooklyn frowned and faced forward again. A hundred questions burned on the back of his tongue like smoke in a closed chimney. The future, the prophecy - it sat square on his shoulders, heavy and unknown. He wasn't sure if knowing the answers to his questions would be better or worse than what his imagination had come up with. In the time it took for them to leave the clocktower up until then, Brooklyn had already seen his clan die a hundred times in a hundred different ways.
"Goliath," Brooklyn began, unable to keep the fire from scorching his throat, but Goliath raised a hand to silence him.
"I do not wish to talk about it any further. I have already put too many dark things in your mind."
"Trust me, my mess of a brain has already conjured up some pretty nasty stuff. If you don't tell me, then all I have are those images."
Goliath sighed. He shook his head. "The details are not important. I am home now. Even if the prophecy had started to unfold, my being here stops it."
"How are you so sure?"
Goliath's silence proved that he wasn't.
The castle absorbed the sky. They descended onto a turret rather than the main courtyard in front of the doors. They did so wordlessly but with reason. It felt like the calm before the storm and they both knew that they needed a moment to center themselves before going forward, before facing whatever Xanatos had waiting for them inside the walls of the castle Brooklyn had once called home.
Brooklyn watched Goliath spread his palms across the stone and lean his weight against it, head hung heavy. Goliath took a deep breath until his chest was wide and full, wings slightly open, and when he exhaled it was like a gust of weary wind, and Brooklyn half expected him to break apart with it, to decay before his eyes and turn to dust. But Goliath took another breath and Brooklyn did too, as much as it hurt.
Brooklyn surveyed the empty platforms and remembered each gargoyle that had claimed them. Humans had ghosts in their lore, rageful spirits trapped in the places they had died, and if ever there existed a place where such spirits would linger it would be at Wyvern castle, where the silent, unjust massacre of his people had taken place. Brooklyn's throat tightened and he curled a hand over an edge of stone. He tried to find relief in the fact that he did not sense any residual anger or pain, that his brothers and sisters and friends did not leave any part of themselves behind.
Instead of relief, Brooklyn only rediscovered his own anger, his own pain, and once again Brooklyn was forced to push it aside. There never seemed to be an appropriate moment to grieve the loss of his people and his time. He hoped that one day, when they could all breathe again, they would be able to talk about it, remember them, mourn them. They had never been given the chance.
Perhaps gargoyles did leave ghosts - inside the survivors, rather than the place.
Goliath put a hand on his shoulder. Still, they did not speak, but they nodded in unison as if they had, as if they had come to an agreement: they would process this, but not now. Now called for all of their attention on the living and not on long lost friends. Not yet.
With Goliath in the lead, they filed the spiral stairs until they reached the courtyard. Waiting with a tapping foot near the double doors was Owen, who stormed toward them on sight. Brooklyn noticed immediately how disheveled the man was, how strained his eyes were behind glasses that fell too far down his nose, blonde pieces of hair springing free from its usual mold. He even walked in an animated, jittery way that was very opposite of his normal demeanor, as if someone was pressing a fast forward button on Owen's life.
"You two have kept him waiting for far too long." Owen came to an abrupt stop but leaned forward on his toes like his body ached to stay in motion. His eyes, two blazing pits of blue, managed to strike Brooklyn's heart with enough fear to make him back pedal. "Now he is angry and very, very unstable -"
"Owen." Goliath stepped back as well, but it wasn't because Owen frightened him - it was to get a good look at him for the first time in nearly half a year. Goliath's face warped with concern, hands reaching out on instinct to try and comfort the clearly frazzled man before him, but Owen jerked out of reach. "What has happened to you?"
Owen's eyes narrowed to angry slits as he stared hard at Goliath, shoulders rising like his entire being was filling with steam. "You happened to me. You - you are responsible for this."
"Me?" Goliath looked to Brooklyn, but his second could offer no clues. "What do you mean?" Even though Goliath was rightly confused, he also sounded apologetic, as if he were already on the verge of admitting his unknown faults and taking responsibility for all of it, everything, if that meant it could be settled right now.
Owen's mouth tightened with so much force, Brooklyn could hear the pressure of his teeth grinding together. "If you had not run off, none of this would have happened. If you had just given me -" Owen's mouth snapped shut with a click. He straightened his back like it took an enormous effort to do so, then abruptly spun on his heel. "Follow me. He has been waiting long enough."
The air Owen left behind him felt unnaturally charged and Goliath and Brooklyn both visibly shivered as they moved to follow. Brooklyn inclined his head and spoke very softly. "Whatever is happening to Xanatos is rubbing off on him. He wasn't like this yesterday. I mean, not this bad."
Goliath's shoulders hung heavily. "If he is like this, I can only imagine what condition Xanatos must be in."
Brooklyn reached and touched the tip of his fingers to Goliath's wrist. Goliath slipped his hand around his second's and gave a short squeeze. "He's in rough shape," Brooklyn said, and he very nearly felt sorry for Xanatos, for whatever he was going through. But after everything Xanatos done, he could not bring himself quite to that point. A small part of him even found some kind of sick joy in whatever suffering Xanatos was experiencing. He could guarantee without a second thought that it did not come close to what he and his clan had suffered.
"What was he talking about?" Brooklyn asked, nodding toward Owen a few paces ahead. "Given him what?"
Pulling his hand free, Goliath sighed, completely baffled. "I have no idea."
The large doors opened with a yawn. The main room was the same as it had been the day before, including the Lexington-shaped bloodstain on the floor - which Goliath eyed painfully - except this time, there was an acrid smell of smoke. It was so strong that Brooklyn covered his nose and Goliath just barely kept himself from doing the same.
Brooklyn didn't have to ask why it smelled like a bonfire; as they moved farther into the room, Owen lead them right around a large ring in the middle of the floor. It was twice Brooklyn's height and a perfect circle, blackened through the carpet until it peeled away to reveal the ashen stone beneath.
"He tried to summon something," Owen said out of the corner of his mouth, through his teeth, and Brooklyn could only describe it as if Owen was … offended, like he took it very personally that Xanatos would try to seek the help of something otherworldly.
Frankly, Brooklyn wasn't surprised - the man had brought gargoyles back to life on a hunch, after all - but was relieved all the same that it did not seem he had been successful. Xanatos was dangerous enough on his own.
"Why?" Goliath asked, edging away from the still smoldering carpet.
"Because -" Owen's mouth snapped shut again. His face burned red along his cheeks, his forehead, like the flames from whatever Xanatos had burned were still going, licking along his skin, scalding him. "Because there is something wrong with him," Owen said, each word forced, like it caused him great pain to speak.
"Tell us." Goliath once again reached for Owen, to take him by the shoulders, but as before, Owen moved out of his grasp. "Tell us what is wrong, what has happened to him. We might be able to help."
"You have never helped!" Owen shouted, and Brooklyn swore for half a second that he could see Owen's hair rising from his head like fire on a wick. "Ever since you came here you have complicated everything for us."
Goliath's face set sternly. "Need I remind you that he is the one who brought us here?"
"And how desperately I wish I could turn back time to correct that mistake. But you just would not allow that, would you, Goliath? You had to throw it away." Owen sneered, having raised to the tips of his toes, and for some reason Brooklyn thought he might start to hover in the air, levitating just on the force of his anger.
"What are you talking about?" Brooklyn interrupted, and they both glanced at him like they had forgotten he was there. "Throw what away? You're making about as much sense as Xanatos."
Owen deflated back to the flats of his feet. His hands busied themselves with smoothing out the front of his shirt, but it only made him seem more manic.
"Look, Owen, I don't know what's going on with Xanatos, but it's obviously having some effect on you."
Owen snorted. "You have no idea," he mumbled.
Brooklyn stepped forward, not allowing Owen a second to pull away, and grabbed the human by the wrist. Something in Owen's skin shocked Brooklyn, enough to make him blink in surprise, but not to pull away. "I don't know what your problem is with Goliath - with us. We didn't ask to be brought here by your weird boyfriend, that was all his doing. And he's done nothing but fuck with us since day one. But you know that he's gone too far this time. Almost killing Lex? More than once? Torturing him over and over again?" Brooklyn's grip tightened on Owen's wrist - not to hurt him, but to emphasize. "You know this has got to stop. We have to end this."
Owen's eyes burned. He looked down to where their hands met and then back to Brooklyn's face. It had suddenly become very quiet, very still, and Brooklyn realized that Owen was even holding his breath.
"This is real, Owen. This is my clan that's hurting," Brooklyn said, and watched as Owen's eyes slid down and away, to stare hard at the floor. "We've all been so messed up because of all of this. If whatever Xanatos is doing goes on much longer, I don't think we'll be able to come back from it. Any of us, including Xanatos."
Owen finally caught his breath and turned to look at Goliath. His expression softened to something thoughtful, something careful, and Brooklyn slowly withdrew his hand.
"It must be even more horrible for you, Goliath," Owen said, his voice like ice dropped down Brooklyn's spine. "Going through all of this for a second time."
Goliath's face paled. He opened his mouth to speak, to question, but he did not get the chance.
"Goliath!"
Even Owen jumped at the outburst. They turned to face Xanatos standing at the foot of a flight of stairs to their right, and Brooklyn could not believe that just a day had passed since he had seen him last. The man's hair was loose again, clothes wrinkled and torn and dusted with what could only be blood. His beaming smile was even more unnerving than it was the day before, stretched so wide it looked painful and impossible, and he seemed to almost vibrate in place at the sight of Goliath. The pink tip of his tongue ran along the pearls of his teeth before slipping back into his mouth with a wet sound.
"I've missed you," Xanatos says, his voice coming from low in his throat, almost a growl. "Wherever did you go?"
Brooklyn held himself still as goosebumps crawled along his flesh like a thousand tiny spiders. Humans should not be as frightening as Xanatos was just then. Their soft skin, brittle bones, and earth bound lives are all so very fragile in comparison to a gargoyle. Xanatos himself had never frightened Brooklyn - what Xanatos was capable of, what Xanatos had at his disposal, his money and power and fame - these things scared him. Strip away his privilege and Xanatos was just another human, and even he had to know that one-on-one with a gargoyle, he would lose.
For the first time, however, Brooklyn was second guessing that thought. Unhinged, Xanatos was an entirely different entity. Whatever had happened to him - whatever was happening to him, it was supernatural. Xanatos didn't even smell human anymore.
"Xanatos," Goliath said, his voice hollow with disbelief at the sight of him.
"You kept me waiting," Xanatos snapped, but his eyes had shifted to Owen, and there they narrowed. "Must you disappoint me constantly, Owen?" Xanatos pulled on the man's name like it was a taunt, an insult in itself.
Owen bristled. His hands popped as they tightened into fists at his sides.
"Owen won't let me have any fun anymore," Xanatos continued, turning back to Goliath. He swayed on his feet like he might be drunk, but his eyes were too sharp, his words very clear. "And he's jealous because I tried to get the help of something more powerful than him."
"Mr. Xanatos." Owen spoke like a warning, and his eyes - Brooklyn shook his head - no. Of course they were not glowing.
Goliath cleared his throat and steered Xanatos' attention back to himself. "You called. I am here. We need to talk."
"Ah. Talk. You're gone for months, of course you want to talk. But I simply do not have the time, Goliath. We're all very, very stretched thin on time." Xanatos smirked over Goliath's shoulder at Owen. "Aren't we?"
"Listen to me." Goliath took a step forward to block the rest of the room from Xanatos' sight, and his voice softened, like he was talking to a disobedient child. "What you have done to my clan, to Lexington in particular, is unacceptable. You know I cannot allow your torture to continue."
"Torture?" Xanatos barked with laughter. "Didn't Brooklyn explain all of this already? I did what I had to do to get my gargoyles - yes, my gargoyles - back into my pocket. I gave you too much freedom. I should have kept you on a leash. And besides," Xanatos' grin curled devilishly on the corner of his mouth. "He begged for my help. It was quite pretty. You should have seen him on his knees, just over there -" Gesturing with his chin to the blood stain, Xanatos laughed again. "How could I have said no?"
Brooklyn fumed. He had had enough of this, of Xanatos' mindless babbling, of wasting time trying to reason with a crazy man. There were more important things to take care of, an entire clan back home that needed him, a hurt Lexington that he needed to talk to. None of this mattered. Xanatos could not be saved, and as far as Brooklyn was concerned, that was all for the better.
"This is pointless. Let's get out of here," Brooklyn said, but Goliath did not acknowledge him. He stepped closer to Xanatos, wings slightly spread, and took a breath that filled his entire chest.
"Why did you demand I come here, Xanatos?" Goliath's voice was just a growl, a steady thrum in his throat.
Xanatos closed the distance between them further, head craned back to keep his eyes on the gargoyle's. "I need your blood, of course. Having a complete set is crucial to my plans."
Golaith's horned brow flickered. "Plans for what? Are you going to try and summon something again?"
Brooklyn's blood iced in his veins, but Xanatos shook his head. Brooklyn was only minutely relieved.
"No." Xanatos raised his right arm and peeled back the torn white fabric of his sleeve; the length of his forearm was bandaged. "I already have one scar and Owen has gone to great lengths to make certain I do not try it again."
Brooklyn's eyes cut sideways to Owen. The man had become like stone, not blinking or breathing, and his eyes never strayed from Xanatos.
What, exactly, was Owen capable of that it could prevent Xanatos from doing whatever he wanted?
"You can have my blood," Goliath grunted. "It matters little to me what you do with it, it is not my main concern. But I will not leave here until I know you cannot harm Lexington anymore."
Xanatos used the hand of his injured arm to pull his hair back. "That is out of the question. Like I said, I need you on a leash-"
Goliath roared. His wings stretched to their full length and his eyes filled with light. "We are not your pets, Xanatos! Destroy whatever device you are using to harm him, or I will make you." Goliath's teeth bared, but Xanatos was not intimidated by the display - in fact, he only seemed more excited, like a an addict getting another hit. He slipped a hand into his pocket and produced the same small, black remote that he had taunted the clan with the day before.
Despite himself, Brooklyn held his breath.
"You mean this?" Xanatos' thumb smoothed over the button in the center of the remote. He chuckled and leaned his weight on one hip, turning the device over his hands. "This is not the only one, you know."
"Then you will destroy all of them." Goliath's eyes had sharpened on the remote as well.
"Hm. Will I?" He gave a sudden tap to the button, and both of the gargoyles gasped and jumped forward. Xanatos was fast - too fast, pulling backward and holding the remote over his head like a bully on a playground with a stolen toy. "Ah, ah. Be careful. It's not as much fun when you cannot see or hear it, but I'm sure the others are having a delightful show." The button clicked again under his thumb.
"Stop!" Brooklyn cried. He started to charge but was abruptly halted by Owen standing in his way. Brooklyn blinked, did not have a second to wonder how he had gotten in front of him so quickly, and reached through Owen's grasp for Xanatos. "Please, stop it!"
"Xanatos, that is enough." Goliath stepped back and spread his hands. He watched Xanatos carefully, the way the man was breathing so fast and heavy it was a wonder he hadn't passed out, how his smile had gone from unnerving to manic.
"Is the green one even worth of all this?" Xanatos laughed, circling the button with the tip of his thumb as he pulled it back down to his chest. "Wouldn't it be easier to let him go?"
"Shut up!" Brooklyn screamed. Owen's arms wrestled around him, holding him firmly in place. "Don't talk about him! Don't even think about him!"
"Brooklyn, please." Goliath met his second's eyes for a moment and waited for Brooklyn to still. Only then did Owen very carefully detach himself from the gargoyle. When Goliath faced Xanatos again, he took another deep breath. His temper was just below its boiling point. "Something has happened to you, Xanatos. You are not the man I knew before I disappeared."
"On the contrary, Goliath. I am the man I was meant to become in another time, another universe. I just don't have the time to become him. I'm very impatient. But now," Xanatos grinned, spreading his arms wide, the remote still clasped tightly in his hand. "Everything is happening at just the right speed, at just the right time."
Goliath shook his head. "You are not making any sense."
"It will all make sense, Goliath. In time. I promise. Now, if you'll follow Owen, he will take a sample from you-"
"Where is your wife?" Goliath pressed, and for the first time Xanatos seemed genuinely caught off guard, his face falling slack. He almost looked confused, like he did not understand the words. "Your wife," Goliath said again, raising his brow. "Fox. Where is she?"
Xanatos swallowed thickly and he stared at the floor in thought, like he would find the answer to Goliath's question there. "She. Left." The corner of his mouth quirked, then died again. "She did not understand. She couldn't. But it's fine. Her and the child did not fit in this timeline, anyway."
"Timeline?" Goliath took a tentative step forward. "What do you mean -"
"Get back!" Xanatos pointed the remote at Goliath and flattened his thumb across the button.
Brooklyn felt it - a shiver of shock passing through him, an echo of the torture that was tearing Lexington to shreds. He roared, and before Owen could catch him, he surged forward, shouldering Goliath out of his way and slamming the point of his elbow into Xanatos' chest. Xanatos' shoes caught and he fell backward with the entire weight of Brooklyn slamming on top of him. Brooklyn heard the breath rush out of his lungs, listened to him struggle to catch it again, but Brooklyn didn't care - one hand curled tightly around Xanatos' throat and the other clenched around Xanatos' bandaged arm. Xanatos's scream was loud even as he struggled to breathe, and his hand spasmed open. The remote clattered to the floor.
"Goliath!" Brooklyn shouted, but his leader was one step ahead of him, swiping the remote from the floor and whipping around to face Owen, prepared to attack, but the other human had not moved an inch. He watched on stiffly but his expression was torn - something between satisfaction and concern.
It didn't matter. Brooklyn glared down at Xanatos again, the hand on his neck tight enough to bruise, to hurt, but not enough to cut off his airway. The human struggled until Brooklyn released his grip on the injured arm. Xanatos' eyes spun wildly in his head, mouth cracked open with breathless laughter.
"You're sick," Brooklyn sneered, lifting Xanatos' head and slamming it back on the ground. "You're out of your fucking mind. We can all see it. Fox saw it and she's the only one who had good enough sense to leave you before you could trap her, too."
Once again, the mention of his wife managed to pierce through whatever veil had fallen over Xanatos. He stilled and met Brooklyn's eyes and Brooklyn tried to remind himself that for the first time in months, he had the upper hand, he had the power, he could hurt Xanatos as much as he had hurt him and his clan, but it wouldn't take hold - it all faded away when Xanatos stared up at him with nothing but pure fury.
Brooklyn, pinning Xanatos to the floor, with no remote, hands around his tiny human neck, was still afraid of him.
In so many ways, so many times, Brooklyn was a failure.
"What are you going to do now?" Xanatos said, very calm. His body was still beneath the gargoyle's. "Are you going to kill me?"
Behind him, Owen inhaled sharply. Brooklyn did not turn around.
"Maybe." Brooklyn's free hand circled around Xanatos' neck as well, applying just a bit more pressure. "I should. You deserve it."
Although Xanatos' hands were relatively free, they remained at his sides, palms against the floor. He did not fight back.
"Brooklyn." Goliath touched the other gargoyle's shoulder, but Brooklyn shrugged him away.
"Do you know what it's like to watch someone you love suffer the way Lexington has suffered? To watch him convulse on the ground with his eyes rolled back and there's nothing you can do because the thing hurting him so much is the only thing keeping him alive?" Brooklyn's thumb pressed hard against the apple of Xanatos' throat until the airway was pinched closed, like it was the button on his remote. Xanatos still did not move, even as his face started to redden. "If I did that to Fox - to Owen, wouldn't you want to kill me, too?"
"Stop," Owen said from behind him. "Now."
"Goliath." Brooklyn looked over his shoulder to find his leader's eyes, but Goliath was turned away, staring hard at the floor. "Give me the word and I'll put an end to this. Right now."
"Stop," Owen repeated, this time more forcefully. He stepped forward, eyes on Xanatos, but Goliath cut him off with an outstretched wing.
"He cannot be reasoned with. He's just going to keep hurting Lexington. He's going to keep using us forever if we don't end this now." Brooklyn faced Xanatos again. He tightened his hands, and Xanatos' eyes started to roll backward. "His life is not precious. His life is not sacred."
Xanatos cracked a smile.
"Remember what you saw today. Lexington falling to his death. Lexington cutting himself open." Brooklyn said, and his voice cracked, and his eyes burned. "This is the only way to save him. To save us. Goliath," Brooklyn turned again. This time, Goliath stared back. "This is the only way."
"Release him now or I will kill Lexington."
Brooklyn and Goliath turned. Owen remained where he stood, his face blank, but in his hand …
"No," Brooklyn breathed.
"He said there were others." Owen raised the remote and held it like a gun, aimed directly at Brooklyn. "Of course I have one."
Brooklyn's eyes flashed. He growled, raised Xanatos' head from the floor again and smacked it back down, and only then did he pull his hands away. Between his legs, Xanatos' chest expanded with a loud sound, and then clenched painfully as he coughed and gasped for air.
Goliath closed a hand around Brooklyn's shoulder and pulled him back to his feet. Owen stayed wide until he was close enough to Xanatos to bend down and put a hand to his chest, the other still holding the remote very tightly. "Mr. Xanatos?"
"I'm alright." Xanatos pushed himself up on the heels of his palms. He smiled dizzily. "You're not such a disappointment after all, Owen."
"I certainly try, sir."
"Why are you helping him?" Brooklyn cried, and Goliath just barely managed to hold him back. "He hurt you! He's hurt all of us. I tried to help you, I wanted to help you, but you're protecting him! Why?!"
Owen's glasses caught the light when he turned to look at him. "The same reason you would kill for yours."
Brooklyn didn't understand. He strained against Goliath's hold until his leader forced him back, a hand cupping the side of his face. "Look at me. Brooklyn. Look at me."
Brooklyn shook his head, eyes squeezed shut, searing with hot tears. Goliath sighed and spared one moment to stroke his second's hair before facing Xanatos and Owen once again.
"I have had enough of this." Goliath turned his left arm over and dragged his foreclaw across his flesh. The skin split, dark blood swelling to the surface, and when he turned it over to face the ground, two fat droplets pelted to the floor. "There is your sample," he growled, taking Brooklyn firmly by the shoulder again. "We are leaving. And when you feel the need to call upon us again, Xanatos, I expect you to do so without harming one of my clan. If you think this will last forever, you are mistaken." Goliath pulled his wings tight against his back. "You have never owned us. You never will."
Xanatos smiled, his hand rubbing at the purple ring around his throat, while Owen gently aided him to his feet. "I really did miss you, Goliath." Xanatos chuckled. "Welcome home."
Goliath took Brooklyn by the elbow and lead him toward the double doors. Brooklyn's heart was loud in his ears, but he still caught Xanatos' whisper to Owen as Goliath shoved the door open.
"I don't remember giving you a remote."
"You have to tell me what we're dealing with. What to expect. What to watch out for. It has to be happening, Goliath. Your vision, the prophecy -"
"It is not a prophecy -"
"That's bullshit and you know it! Whatever you saw, it's happening. Right now. You coming home hasn't stopped a thing."
Goliath tilted his wings to put more distance between them. Brooklyn glared ahead at the clocktower in the distance.
"You do not want to know what I saw. Those images will haunt me for the rest of my life. I will not subject you to them." He took a deep breath and sighed into the wind. "Hudson is alive and as far as I'm concerned that is proof enough that the false future is no longer a threat to us."
"But Xanatos is. What are we going to do?"
Goliath shook his head. "I do not know."
"Were you going to let me kill him?" Brooklyn glanced at his leader. "If Owen hadn't interrupted?"
"I. I do not know, Brooklyn. Everything was happening very quickly."
"I should have. I should have just done it before Owen stopped me."
"Listen. If it comes to that - if Xanatos must be killed to be stopped, then that is something I will do, not you. And I want to exhaust every other option we have. You were wrong, Brooklyn. His life is sacred and something has happened to him. He is a victim of … something. If he can be saved, we must try."
"He's not innocent, Goliath," Brooklyn countered. "He's never been. Even before all of this happened, he's been nothing but cruel to us. Besides, it's not our job to save him. Let Owen do that, if he's so determined. We need to focus on us. On Lexington."
"Owen." Goliath's face turned thoughtful. "He knows something."
"Fuck Owen."
Goliath shot him a look.
"I'm serious. Fuck both of them. I don't care about them anymore, Goliath. I care about my clan, my people. My mates." Brooklyn angled his body so his feet were facing first, and used his wings to guide him safely onto the clocktower platform. With the stone beneath his feet, he faced his leader head on. "They need us more than Xanatos does. They're the real victims here."
Goliath opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off by the sound of the clockface door bursting open. Hudson fell out and held onto the handle like it was the only thing keeping him standing. And a good thing, too, because he nearly collapsed in relief at the sight of them.
"I was so worried," he said, reaching out for Goliath, who quickly took him in his arms. "Lex was shocked a couple times, and I thought somethin' might've happened to you two."
"Is he okay?" Brooklyn asked anxiously.
"He's fine now, lad. A little shaken up. And you two are in one piece." Hudson held onto Goliath like he'd disappear if he let his grip loose. "What happened?"
Brooklyn slipped past Hudson into the clocktower, leaving Goliath to fill him in on what had gone down at Xanatos' castle. He didn't care anymore. He wanted Lexington and Broadway more than he ever had in his life. He needed them like the very air in the room.
He felt them in the library before he saw them. Brooklyn paused outside the door, back to the wall, to collect his thoughts, maybe to eavesdrop, but mostly to close his eyes and see if he could determine how they were feeling before he walked in. His eyes closed and he listened to the drum of his heartbeat in his ears.
Broadway was apprehensive, distant. Brooklyn could feel this like something inside of him was being pulled apart. Lexington was tired. The exhaustion made Brooklyn's head hang heavy against his chest.
From both of them, Brooklyn could taste their fear, like blood in the back of his mouth. He tried to swallow it but felt like choking instead.
Apparently, they were as much aware of his presence as he was of their emotions; when Brooklyn finally turned around the door, they were already looking at him. Lexington was wrapped in a blanket, sitting on the edge of one of the library tables (the same one Brooklyn had broken in half the night he was forced down and had put back together some time later). His feet dangled off the edge. Broadway stood at his side, one hand braced against the tabletop, the other resting on Lexington's knee.
Broadway offered a smile that did not touch his eyes. Lexington crossed his arms, tightening the blanket across his chest, and looked at the floor instead.
Brooklyn felt like he was standing on the other end of a rift, a canyon miles wide, like they were but tiny specks in the distance. "Hey," he said, and swore he almost heard the echo of his voice, like it was stretching far to even reach them. Brooklyn pulled the library door closed and tried to remember the last time they had been like this, the three of them, alone in a room together, private.
He couldn't.
"Are you okay?"
Broadway and Brooklyn spoke at the same time - Broadway to Brooklyn, Brooklyn to Lexington. They met each other's eyes and smiled faintly, briefly.
"I'm fine," Brooklyn assured, and he stepped farther into the room. He waited for Lexington to move away from him, to jump off of the table and leave, but even as Brooklyn came close enough to put his own hand on the table, Lexington stayed put. His eyes, however, did not stray from the ground. "I know he hurt you again," Brooklyn whispered.
"What do you care?" Lexington snapped, still not looking away from the floor. "You hurt me the same way just before you left. You're as bad as him."
Brooklyn's stomach dropped. His mouth fell open but every word he had ever known vanished from his mind.
His heart hurt enough for the three of them.
"That was uncalled for."
Broadway's voice was surprisingly stern. Brooklyn blinked through the dampness in his eyes to find his face, but Broadway was staring harshly down at Lexington, who avoided his eyes and shifted uncomfortably on the table.
"You don't mean that and you know you don't. He saved your life." Broadway took his hands back and crossed his arms. "I would have done the same thing if I had thought of it first."
Lexington's hand rubbed back and forth slowly across the bandages on his chest. Every breath caused him pain. Brooklyn could feel it. He watched Lexington's lower lip tremble before he sucked it between his teeth to keep it still.
"Lexington." Brooklyn edged closer. "Please, look at me."
The small gargoyle shook his head. So Brooklyn made him, moving fluidly to stand in front of him and gathering his face in his hands in one motion. Lexington tried only once to pull away but Brooklyn refused to let him go, cradling his face in one hand while the other slipped carefully into the blanket and wound behind Lexington's back, to spread firmly in the middle of his spine.
Lexington melted into his touch, despite himself, eyes squeezed shut.
"Look at me," Brooklyn repeated, his thumb catching a tear from the corner of Lex's eye as it fluttered open to finally obey.
Brooklyn did not speak, not out loud. But their bond did. Broadway joined them, his arms circling around the other gargoyles and bringing them closer, and as their heads came together, so did their hearts - two of flesh and one of metal.
Lexington cried. Brooklyn whispered into his ear that he was sorry but Lex only shook his head. He pulled Brooklyn closer with one arm, the other claiming Broadway. There were not enough limbs. They could not possibly be close enough.
And they could have stayed there, just like that, forever, but there wasn't enough time.
"You two are the most important people in my life and I would do anything to keep you safe." Brooklyn closed his eyes, his cheek against Lex's head, Broadway's lips on his hair. "I know I don't have much to show for it but I'm trying so hard and I will never, ever stop trying for you. Both of you. I'll fight to my very last breath. Remember that promise you both made me? Right in this room?" Brooklyn pulled back, just far enough to look them both in the eye, to put his hand on each of their faces. "You promised you wouldn't go where I couldn't reach you. Don't break that promise. Please. I can't take it. I can't."
Broadway kissed him, full on the mouth. "I love you," he said, and Brooklyn smiled something broken and sad.
"I love you too, baby. And I love you." Brooklyn looked to Lexington, who kissed the soft flesh of his palm. "You can be mad at me all you want, but I'll keep loving you."
Lexington's mouth cracked with a smile. "I can't stay mad at you. We're … moon-bonded, remember?"
Brooklyn beamed, blinked his tears away and pulled Lexington close again. He met Broadway's eyes. "Yeah, we are."
Lexington sniffled against his chest. "That's … that's really gay, guys."
The trio laughed as one. Brooklyn held them close, held them tightly. Xanatos could shake their lives, he could steal Lex's heart, he could try to tear them to pieces with his schemes and little gadgets, but he could not touch their bond.
Xanatos was not as big as the moon.