Hey everyone!
As promised, here is the final chapter of my story, 'The Relocation of Elijah Robbins.' It's been a long journey, over two years, but I'll save most of my thanks and emotional stuff for the epilogue, which I plan to post either at the end of May or beginning of June.
I hope you all enjoy this, the last chapter of this story! (unless you count the Epilogue)
Note: Brief mention of being suicidal, but no suicide.
Aftermath
One day after the funeral...
Elijah's parents had both been raised Roman Catholic, and had baptized him as such when he was an infant. However, they had fallen away from the faith as he grew up, and soon they were only going to church for Christmas, Easter, and other special masses like baptisms and weddings instead of every Sunday and other certain days like they were supposed to. He had never even received his First Communion or Confirmation. But one of the masses they did go to were funeral masses.
Before his parents had died, Elijah had only been to two other funerals in his life. One had been for his Great Aunt Charlotte, but he had been five at the time, and more concerned with the reception after the ceremony as he didn't have a full grasp on the concept of death yet. The second one had been for one of his dad's co-workers, who had drowned off the coast of Bolivar Peninsula. This was when he was twelve, and it had a greater impact on him; he had known this co-worker as a family friend, and had been saddened by her death.
Of course, he had gone to his parents' funeral after they died, but he had been too shell-shocked to process what was happening. After that, he had hoped to never go to another funeral again. Especially not a year after his parents', and for another family member he loved.
Jeffrey Robbins' funeral mass took place at St. Dymphna's Catholic Church in Weisman, and he was buried in the city cemetery afterwards. The cemetery was on a tall hill with a view of the ocean, and to Elijah, it seemed too beautiful a place to bury the dead. There was a private reception that evening at the Robbins house, though it was a quiet, subdued affair, with only the gargoyles, human friends, and family attending.
Elijah didn't want to go to the funeral. He didn't want to go anywhere. If he could have his way, he would stay locked up in his room for the rest of his life with no human interaction. But Fox had laid a new suit on his bed while he was taking a shower the morning of, and he didn't want her and Xanatos to have spent the money in vain. Plus, he knew that he had to go; people would talk if Jeffrey Robbins' own nephew didn't show up for his funeral. So he got dressed. Fox came to get him when the time came, and he and the Xanatoses went over to the church together.
There had been a few familiar faces there; besides the Xanatoses, Macbeth and Elisa Maza had showed up. Two other people, a man and a woman, were with Elisa, and Elijah later learned that they were her boss and detective partner Matt Bluestone. Even Dingo and Hunter were there, sitting in the backmost pew so as not to be noticed by anyone. He was surprised to find his Aunt Martha and all of his cousins there, the little ones looking uncomfortable and antsy as they tugged at the collars of their nice clothes. June Morrison and her family were also there (her older brother Jerry too, looking healthier for the first time in years). The rest of the church was filled with members of the church community, and maybe a few fans of the deceased author's work that were saddened by his death.
Throughout the whole ceremony, Elijah stared straight ahead, not saying any of the responses or singing any of the songs. He probably would've remained sitting in the pew if Aunt Martha hadn't gently taken his hand and helped him stand and sit and kneel at the proper times. She and her family had been devout Catholics all their lives, so he followed their example, though he crossed his arms when he went up for communion. At the graveyard after mass, the priest gave a eulogy about how Jeffrey Robbins had been an important staple of the community, and that he would be sorely missed by all who knew him, as well as his fans around the world. Elijah nearly felt sick, listening to this part, but he managed to keep his emotions in check.
After the grave burial, he and his family, the Morrisons, Elisa, Macbeth, and the Xanatoses, all went back to the house. Elijah went straight to his bedroom, locking the door behind him and taking out his hearing aids so he couldn't hear anyone knocking or trying to talk to him. He quickly tore off the tie and unbuttoned the top of his dress shirt, hating how they seemed to be choking him. Taking several deep breaths, he fell to his knees, a few tears leaking from his eyes.
There was no doubt in Elijah's mind that he was the reason his uncle had died. If he hadn't given into Mab's temptations, he wouldn't have let her get so close to getting a new body, and his uncle wouldn't have destroyed the Eye and died. This wasn't like his parents' deaths, which had been a freak accident; it was solely because of him and what he did when under Mab's influence that his uncle was now dead. He had hurt his friends, kidnapped his now ex-girlfriend and the son of his best friend, and nearly killed two innocent babies. His uncle died as a result of his actions, and no matter how much he thought about it, there was no way that he could convince himself that he wasn't at fault.
That night... that horrible night... Parts of it were a blur, but he remembered enough to have nightmares that kept him up every night.
He didn't know how long he had stayed on that beach crying, but he must have passed out from exhaustion at some point. The next thing he remembered, he had woken up in his bed. For a moment, he wondered if it had all been a crazy dream, and he had gotten up and went to his window. Even though it was a distance down the beach, he could see the charred, gaping hole the explosion had caused. A few news vans were parked on the nearby road, and he quickly shut the blinds, his hands shaking. A few seconds later the grief hit him, and he abruptly fell down, curling up on the shag carpet as he wished that he would disappear. Macbeth had come in a few minutes later, then left to presumably tell someone he was awake.
The others had been hurt in the fight, but nothing too serious. Macbeth and the Xanatoses were the only ones who visited him on a daily basis, the former constantly checking up on him and bringing him meals. Sometimes the man said nothing, other times he told Elijah about what was happening in the outside world. How many people from town and fans from around the globe had sent cards and gifts upon hearing of Jeffrey Robbins' death. How Derek and Maggie's child, Isaac, was healthy and doing fine, as was Brooklyn and Katana's egg. How Xanatos was working with Jeffrey's lawyers to go through his assets. How an unexpected visitor from Avalon, attracted by Mab's power, had shown up to make everyone in New York City forget what really happened at the choir concert... Elijah barely listened to any of it, save for when the man mentioned Amanda.
Amanda...
After the battle, Elisa had taken her home, explaining everything to her parents. They had been understandably upset and freaked out, being of the mindset that gargoyles were dangerous monsters. Apparently. Mr. Ross had gotten a job offer up in Maine, and this piece of news pushed him to accept it the next morning. Amanda had relatives in Maine, so her parents decided to send her up there soon after; she would finish her semester of school there. Since then, Amanda hadn't called, though the boy couldn't blame her; after what she had been through, he had no doubt that she had been anxious to get as far away from him as possible.
In the following days, Elijah had barely left his room. Meals were brought to him, and he ate them at his desk, mechanically chewing his food. He had some guests: Mr. and Mrs. Xanatos, Macbeth, Hunter, and a middle-aged man that was Jeffrey Robbins' attorney and handler of his estate. Months earlier, the blind author had changed his will, leaving his nephew and step-sister most of his money, donating the rest to various charities. The house, the rights to his books, including the one that he had been writing, now belonged to the sixteen-year-old, who didn't react as the lawyer told him this. He just sat there, a dazed look in his eyes.
As for school, he didn't go to any classes or take any final exams. Even if no one remembered what really happened, he couldn't go back there. Not without Amanda, who was over 400 miles away, and not without seeing Art, who had recovered from the ordeal with no memory of that night or his time in the Eye (again thanks to the Avalon visitor). Besides, even if the deaf teenager had wanted to go to school, there was no way he could focus on anything when his uncle was dead and his whole life shattered beyond recognition.
All Elijah could do was sit in his room, waiting for something yet nothing at all.
[]
Nine days after the funeral...
"Come on, Elijah," Fox said kindly, pausing in giving Alex a spoon of baby food to turn towards Elijah. "You have to eat something."
The three of them were sitting in the dining room at Castle Wyvern; Elijah had been moved out of his uncle's house a few days earlier so he could be closer to the clan. His mood and routine remained the same, however. He ate, slept, and rarely spoke, and he had a permanently tired expression on his face.
"I'm not hungry," the teen lied, looking down at his plate of eggs, bacon, and wheat toast.
The woman frowned a little, but she didn't seem upset with him. "You need food to survive," she said. "I can tell you've lost some weight in the past week."
"So?"
"So, you need to eat so you don't loose too much weight, and so you stay healthy."
"But I'm not hungry."
"More," Alex said, reaching out for the bite of food. Beneath his chair was Gilly, laying with her chin resting on the floor. She had been as quiet and morose as Elijah since that night, no doubt missing Jeffrey.
"You're not leaving the table until you have something to eat." She gave her baby another spoonful of puree. "I don't mean to sound firm with you, but while you're staying here with us, you're going to stay healthy. Okay?"
Elijah sighed, finally picking up his fork and eating a bite of eggs. They were bland, but he ate them anyway. Nodding a little, Fox turned her attention back to Alex, who was gurgling happily in his high chair.
[]
Thirteen days after the funeral...
Usually, whenever the gargoyles watched a movie, they liked to comment every now and then on what was happening and if they liked the movie or not. This night, they sat in silence, watching the film with Elijah, who sat in an armchair slightly apart from the others.
Elisa had suggested that they give Elijah some space after that night, but not remain too distant from him that he felt abandoned. It was a tricky balancing act, with most of the gargoyles not sure if they were being too pushy or too cold towards the teenager. Angela had been the one to gently knock on his bedroom door, asking if he wanted to watch a movie with them. There was no answer, and she had gone to the movie room to tell the others to start the film. However, right as they were getting settled, Elijah appeared in the doorway, looking like he had rolled out of bed.
"... Elijah," Brooklyn said happily, breaking the brief moment of silence that had fallen over the room. "Good... to see you up! We were just about to start the movie, if you want to join us; we're watching Jurassic Park."
The human nodded a little, not looking anyone in the eye. After a slight hesitation, he quickly walked over to a free armchair, sitting down and staring fixedly at the screen. Exchanging a wary look with Broadway, Lexington hit play on the VCR to start the movie.
Nothing happened for the first half hour or so, almost everyone watching the movie with interest. Occasionally, one of the gargoyles would glance over at Elijah, wonder why they were doing so, then turn back to the TV. Elijah's eyes didn't leave the screen, but he could sense the occasional gaze turning towards him. He squirmed uncomfortably a few times in his seat, hugging his arms together as in the movie, the T-Rex appeared to disrupt the tour of the park. A few minutes later, Katana walked into the room.
"Where is-" She stopped mid-sentence upon seeing Elijah. The gargoyle straightened up, her eyes narrowing at the teenager.
"Katana," Brooklyn replied, noticing her glaring at the human. He quickly got up from his seat. "Why don't we-"
His mate said something in Japanese, still frowning at the teen, who had now turned to look at her. She took a step back, one hand unconsciously (was it unconsciously, Elijah wondered) going towards the hilt of her sword.
"Katana," Brooklyn said sharply, walking over to her. "There's no need for that!"
"It's fine, I can go," Elijah muttered, getting up from his seat.
"No, Elijah, you can stay," the crimson gargoyle said before switching to Japanese, apparently arguing with his wife.
"No, I don't even like the movie anyway," the teenager lied, walking past the two gargoyles (Katana eying him like a hawk) and down the hallway.
Making his way to his room (Gilly tried to join him, but he gently brushed her aside), he closed the door and locked it behind him. Taking a few shaky breaths, he wiped his brow and walked over to his bed. He laid down on it right as he heard a knock at his door.
"Elijah?" Nashville. "Elijah, I'm sorry. My mom didn't mean to do that. She's just-"
But the teenager didn't hear what she just was, since he took out his hearing aids and let the silence surround him.
[]
Twenty-two days after the funeral...
The Xanatoses had a spacious, impressive living room in their penthouse home right below Castle Wyvern. It had modern furniture, a mini bar for whenever they had guests, and a large TV off to the side. Two of the walls were floor-to-ceiling glass, looking out over the city. On clear days, one could see a good portion of the city, and clear nights were especially beautiful, with all the twinkling lights of the city visible all around.
The room also had a grand piano.
Elijah had seen it before, in his earlier visits, and had even played it a few times. He hadn't touched it since the funeral, of course, not being in any mood to play anything. Plus, he had rarely left his room since coming there, save for meals and to occasionally see the gargoyles. But with summer now upon him, and having spent most of his time in a single room, he was starting to become bored. He was still sad, but there was now a restlessness within him that made him want to do something.
The piano had been one of the first things he gravitated towards. Xanatos and Fox were usually busy most of the time, Owen was usually with them or taking Gilly on a walk (since Elijah had no desire to go anywhere), and the gargoyles were only there at night. So during the afternoons, the teenager would creep out of his room, making his way to the grand piano. He'd sit down at the bench, open the cover to reveal the keys, and would stare at them while he tried to think of something to play. Eventually, he would tap out a few notes, which would turn into a song.
And he would play. Some of the songs were little things he made up on his own. A few cheerful ones, in an attempt to cheer himself up, and some classical ones he remembered from growing up. Also some melancholic, which he had to force himself to stop doing since he always started to tear up afterwards, and he didn't want to get caught crying by anyone.
This afternoon, he was tapping out a tune when he stopped, suddenly recognizing it. He tapped out the first few notes again, just to be sure he had played it right. Then, putting his other hand on the keys, he started to play.
Holy Moses, I have been removed
I have seen the spectre, he has been here too
'Border Song,' by Elton John. Elijah remembered playing it a few times from the music book Mrs. Flemming had given him, but he hadn't memorized it. Or so he thought. He kept playing it, hearing the words being sung in his head.
Holy Moses, I have been deceived
Now the wind has changed direction, and I'll have to leave
Won't you please excuse my frankness
But it's not my cup of tea
Holy Moses, I have been deceived
The song wasn't sad, per say, but something about the melody tugged at the teenager's heartstrings. And some of the lyrics resonated with him; he had definitely been deceived, and-
His fingers fumbled a little as he thought of Mab, but he pushed past her and pressed on with the song:
Holy Moses, let us live in peace
Let us strive to find a way to make all hatred cease
Elijah wasn't aware of singing along at first; he thought he was still hearing Elton sing them in his head. But he eventually became aware of it, his voice a little dry from little use.
He's my brother, let us live in peace, oh
He's my brother, let us live in peace, oh
He's my brother, let us, let us live in peace
When he finished the song, he leaned his head against the instrument, a stray tear coming from the corner of his eye.
[]
Thirty-eight days after the funeral...
"We need to do something," Brooklyn was saying. "He's not getting any better." He and the rest of the clan and their human allies were talking in one of Castle Wyvern's rooms, discussing the one person that was on all of their minds.
"How do you even come back from something like that," Lexington asked.
"I can't think of anyone who's been through something like that," Xanatos said.
"I did," Goliath spoke up. "With the Eye of Odin, I nearly lost myself to its power."
"But Mab's eye was much more powerful," Owen said. "One of the reasons she went from host to host was because no host withstand holding all that power for an extended period of time. Elijah's been the first to survive a direct interaction with her. And that explosion... Elijah shouldn't have survived that, being so close to the eye when Jeffrey destroyed it."
"So... do you think that's some indication that Elijah's been... affected by her Eye, some way," Elisa asked. "Like something changed him to make him survive that explosion?"
"What kind of changes," Nashville asked curiously. "Like superpowers?"
"It's too soon to tell," the assistant replied. "We have to wait and see-"
A creak at the nearby door made most of the group turn around towards it. No one was there. Goliath walked over to the door and opened it, looking out into the semi-lit hallway of the castle, finding no one. Figuring it was just the wind, he closed the door all the way and turned back towards the others.
Around the corner at the end of the hall was Elijah, panting slightly from his quick getaway, hands shaking and eyes wide with fear as he wondered what this meant for him.
[][][]
Forty days after the funeral...
Father Gabriel was finishing his night prayers in the rectory when there was a knock at the door.
The middle-aged priest of St. Dymphna's Catholic parish in Weisman looked up, curious as to who it could be. The man had been a staple in the Weisman community for nearly ten years, and he was known for his kindness and wisdom. Noting the late hour, he wondered if there was some sort of emergency. Getting up, he quickly walked over to the door and opened it, not sure of who he was going to find on the other side. But he was surprised when he found a teenager standing there.
"Hello," the priest said kindly. He noted the boy's appearance; he seemed out of breath, as if he had been running recently. He looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn't place where he had seen him before. "Can I help you?"
"Y-Yeah," the teenager replied, pointedly not looking the man in the eyes. "You... You probably don't remember me. I've only met you once, about a month ago at my uncle's funeral-"
Fr. Gabriel's eyes widened with recognition, realizing who it was. This was Jeffrey Robbins' nephew, and he now recalled giving the boy his condolences at the author's funeral back in May.
"I remember you," he said, holding out his hand for the boy to shake. "Elijah, isn't it?"
The teenager looked taken aback, but nodded, shaking his hand.
"Is there something I can help you with," the priest asked, wondering how and why the teenager was here; the last he had heard, he had moved to Manhattan after the funeral. "I must admit, this is an unusual time to call, and I do have office hours-"
"I know," Elijah said quickly, looking both embarrassed and nervous at the same time. "I just..." He wrung his hands together. "I just... I just needed to talk with someone... who's an outsider. And someone who knows, morally, if..." He took a shaky breath. "... If I'm really a monster or not."
The man was surprised by this statement, wondering what the boy was talking about. While he knew the lateness of the hour, and already feeling tired from a long day of work, he felt called to listen and talk to the teenager.
"Let's step into the church," Fr. Gabriel suggested, grabbing a keychain off a nearby hook. "I think we have a lot to talk about."
[]
It took nearly two hours for Elijah to explain just about everything to the priest, the two of them sitting in a pew a few rows back from the altar.
The teenager had started with his life back in Galveston, covering everything up until the events of that night. Parts of the story the teenager hesitated or had trouble telling, but he managed to push through his emotions in order to tell them. Father Gabriel listened to him attentively, staying silent the whole time. His face betrayed nothing as he heard about gargoyles, an evil faerie witch, time travel, and all of the other crazy things that had happened to the boy in the past year.
"... and that's basically it," the teenager finished, wringing his hands together a little. "My uncle's dead... because of me." He finally turned and looked the priest in the eye for the first time that evening. "I know it sounds crazy, and unbelievable, but it's the truth."
Fr. Gabriel nodded slowly, a thoughtful expression on his face. Yes, parts of the story sounded fantastical, but he could tell that the boy was telling the truth. He could also tell that the boy was in deep pain, and in need of spiritual guidance. Saying a quick prayer in his head for guidance, he finally spoke.
"I believe you," the priest said. "Though not all of it was the truth, namely the part about your uncle being dead because of you." The teenager briefly glanced at him with surprise after hearing that statement, but looked away a few moments later. "May I ask how have things been since the funeral?"
"... Not good," Elijah replied, still twiddling his fingers. "I barely get enough sleep most of the time because of nightmares, but even when I don't have them, I can't forget that night. Little things I see or hear makes me remember... Remember her and..." He put his hands under his armpits, looking fixedly at the crucifix above the altar. "I think my friends still hold a grudge against me. Because of what I did... what I said."
"Have they been supportive towards you during this time?"
"Sometimes. They try to talk to me, but I don't really talk to them."
"Why not?"
The boy hesitated before answering, looking down at his lap. "I don't... deserve to be their friend. Not after the things I said and did to them..." The teenager wiped at his eyes. "And... And I know that they can't forget that night either. The way they look at me sometimes... it's as if they expect Ma- her to reappear and attack."
"But surely they understand that you weren't in a right state of mind that night," Fr. Gabriel said.
"They probably do, since they've dealt with all sorts of crazy magical stuff before, but they're still walking on eggshells around me." Elijah tapped his fingers on the back of the pew in front of him. "Sometimes you could cut the tension in the room, even when no one's talking. They stop whatever conversation they're having when I get too close, and whenever we sit down as a group, whoever ends up next to me always hesitates before sitting down."
"That doesn't mean that your friends despise you," the priest replied. "When someone goes through a traumatic experience, as you certainly have, family and friends that didn't go through it often struggle to be there emotionally for you. Your friends know you're hurting, and they want to help you, but they aren't quite sure how to do that. Especially since they're no doubt dealing with their own experiences and trauma from that night. They didn't go through the same things you did, and they're worried that they might upset you and lose you as a friend. Part of the reason they're probably walking on eggshells is because they don't want to accidentally hurt you more than you've already been."
The teenager didn't say anything in reply, but nodded a little, seeming to accept the man's words.
"But I'm not an expert on mental health and dealing with grief," the priest continued. "I'd suggest seeing a therapist or counselor, if you're interested in seeing one, so they can help you more in-depth with grief counseling and how to move past that night."
"I heard Fox mention something like that last week," Elijah said, frowning a little. "But I can't imagine telling a therapist about all of this... Especially the gargoyles bit."
"You told me," the priest reminded him.
"That's only because priests can't tell secrets and stuff. That it's an oath or vow you guys take; I saw it in a movie once."
"Well... that's only in the sacrament of Confession, but I'll keep everything you've told me tonight to myself."
The teenager looked embarrassed, turning away from the man. "Great... And if you do end up telling someone about the gargoyles, that'll give them another reason to hate me."
"They don't hate you," the priest assured him.
"And you can tell that," the boy asked, frowning at the man. "What do you know outside of what I've told you? I see them almost every night and I'm pretty sure they resent me!"
"Only God knows man's true intentions," Fr. Gabriel replied. "Or gargoyles, in this case." He cleared his throat. "'...for the Lord does not see as mortals see; they look on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart.' Of course, there's moral judgements we have to make on a daily basis, in order to choose right from wrong, but we can't make a proper judgement on one's intentions, as we don't know what they're thinking. I know judges make these kinds of decisions, but they sometimes make mistakes; only God can truly and accurately judge someone."
"So I should ask God if they resent me or not?" The boy rolled his eyes a little. "Why should He answer me this time? He's been quiet in the past."
"In the past," the priest asked curiously.
Elijah opened and then closed his mouth, looking like someone who had said too much. He looked down at his lap, suddenly very meek.
"I... actually used to be Catholic," he confessed. "I guess I still am; I was baptized as an baby, but my parents didn't take me to mass most of the time. I don't know why, but maybe they had a falling out with their faith? Anyway, we stopped going to Sunday mass when I was around five; after that, we only went to mass during holidays like Easter or Christmas. I never received my first communion. I wasn't planning on going back to church after my parents died, but then with Uncle Jeffrey's funeral..." He shook his head. "I didn't know he was Catholic; we never went to mass when I was here save for Christmas and Easter." He sat up, wiping at his eyes again. "There's a lot I didn't know about him... and will never know now."
Father Gabriel nodded, having heard similar testimonies before.
"And when I came here tonight... I wasn't planning on it, at first," the teenager continued. "I just wanted to talk to someone who didn't know me, and won't let feelings cloud their judgement. For some reason, I thought of you giving that homily at the funeral and... decided to come here. I mean, I guess it kind of makes sense, since I'm technically Catholic, so maybe I figured a priest would be the best person to talk to?" He sighed tiredly. "I don't know why I came here."
The priest said nothing at first, taking in what the boy had said. He wondered if God had perhaps brought Elijah Robbins here tonight; after all, there were Catholic churches with their own priests in Manhattan, but he had come all the way to Weisman to talk to him. Speaking of...
"How'd you get here," Fr. Gabriel finally asked. "You mentioned moving in with the Xanatoses, and that them and your gargoyle friends have been keeping an eye on you."
"Yeah," the teen said. "They probably think I'm suicidal or something." He looked down at his lap. "I'm not, though... I just sometimes wish it had been me that died instead of Uncle Jeffrey." He turned to the priest. "Do you think that's suicidal?"
The man shook his head. "I don't think so, seeing that you aren't actively harming yourself or trying to end your life. Most people who have had a loved one die feel the same way; they wish they would have died instead of them, but obsessing over that and starting to desire your own death is wrong and not healthy. I believe the term is "survivor's guilt"... But again, I would recommend you talk to a mental health professional about all of this; I really think it would be helpful, whether or not you tell them about your gargoyle friends."
Elijah nodded, still looking down at his lap. There was another moment or two of silence, save for when the A/C turned on in the back of the church.
"But you still haven't told me how you got here," the priest finally said. "I don't mean to pry or sound rude, but Manhattan is a bit of a distance from here, and it's late at night-"
"I left," the deaf teenager interrupted, finally looking up at the pew in front of him. "I... I just left because I needed some air. And space to think. I'd been in that building for a month, and I wanted to leave, so I took a train that left the city and then a bus here to Weisman."
"Without telling anyone? Don't you think your friends will be looking for you?"
"Yeah, which is why I did my best to make sure they didn't see me leave." The boy's harsh tone was hard to miss, and the priest knew he had to be careful not to upset him.
"Okay." Fr. Gabriel took a deep breath, praying in his mind for guidance. "Well... You're here now. And it sounds to me like you've gone through a lot this past month. You went through a horrible experience that no one should have to go through, you lost a loved one, and you feel that your friends are no longer your friends. But you've been incredibly brave, coming here and telling me all of this, and I think this is the first step to moving on and healing from what you went through."
The teenager nodded, though the priest noticed that there was now an uneasy, almost guilty look on his face.
"Thanks," he finally said. There was another moment of silence between the two of them.
"Elijah," the priest finally said. "I want to ask you a question, and I hope that you will answer me truthfully." The boy looked surprised and a little frightened, but nodded. "Okay: do you want to be alone and friendless for the rest of your life?"
"I-" The question seemed to surprise Elijah, who took a few moments to get his thoughts straight. "Do I... want to be alone? What kind of a question is that?"
"Do you want to be alone," the man repeated. "Do you want to spend the rest of your life doing what you're doing now? Staying in your room most of the day, barely talking to anyone, and letting yourself become filled with regret and longing because of what happened to your uncle? To never be happy again?" He looked the teen right in the eye. "Something tells me you don't want to do that, so why do you keep doing it?"
The boy appeared taken aback by everything Fr. Gabriel said, being too stunned to speak. However, several moments of silence later, Elijah finally turned away, blinking away fresh tears as he took a shuddering breath.
"I... I want to be happy," he finally said, quickly stifling a sob that escaped his throat. "I d-don't want to be alone..." He wiped at his eyes. "But... But how c-can I do that? M-Move on as if it n-never happened?"
"You don't have to pretend it never happened," Fr. Gabriel said, putting a comforting hand on Elijah's shoulder. "Denying what happened will only cause you more pain and sorrow in the future. But... you need to learn to accept what happened, and know that it wasn't your fault." The boy turned to him to say something, but the priest gently cut him off. "It wasn't your fault, Elijah. You're still a boy, nearing the edge of becoming a man, and you made a mistake; you wouldn't have been the first to do so! You said and did things that weren't right, and you now regret; you regretted them that evening, when you realized what you were doing was wrong. And while you can go through the chain of thought of, 'Well, if I hadn't done this or that, my uncle would still be here,' it won't bring you any peace or happiness. Partly because it isn't true.
"Your uncle... I've spoken to him a few times in the past. Once, shortly before you arrived here in Weisman, when I passed him in the street. Do you know what he said to me? He said that, even though he didn't know you yet, he had this strange feeling that he would do anything for you. And I have no doubt that he's done all of that since you moved into his home. Seeing how distraught you are at thinking that you killed him, it's plain to see that you loved him very much, and that you felt loved by him. And that love he had for you is why he did what he did, why he fought so hard to rescue you, to have that chance of saving you. And he did save you, even at the cost of his life." The man thought of another verse. "'Greater love has no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.' I'm sure this verse still applies to loved ones."
Elijah wasn't wiping away his tears now, listening attentively to everything the priest was saying. A lot of what he was hearing was stuff he had never even thought of or considered, and while he felt somewhat better, he still felt the pain from losing his uncle.
"And there will still be pain," the priest continued, as if reading his mind. "A lot now, but less as you go on; it may never go away in your lifetime, but it will not be as bad as it is now. It's only natural for you to feel saddened by your uncle's death. But if you want to be happier and at peace, you will let go of the idea that you killed your uncle; it was an accident, plain and simple, and I don't need to have been there in order to see that." He smiled sadly. "It will take time for you to heal and move on, but you will not be alone in this. You have your friends, who risked their lives to save you, and deeply care about you."
The deaf teenager nodded, finally wiping the tears away. Having listened to everything the man had told him, he was starting to accept what he was saying. Some part of him felt relieved, almost unburdened, thinking that he wasn't the reason his uncle had died. And his friends the gargoyles... he saw them as being who they had always been: his first friends after moving to New York.
"I... I un-understand," he said, nodding once again. "I really do, I... I..." He seemed to be struggling to find the words. Finally, he slightly bowed head. "Thank you... for... for saying what I needed to hear." He sniffled. "I think... I needed to hear it."
Fr. Gabriel nodded and smiled, patting him once more on the shoulder before letting go.
"It's no problem, my son," he replied. His wristwatch beeped at that moment, and he looked down at the time. "Looks like it's midnight."
"Midnight!" Elijah quickly stood up. "It's midnight already?! I need to go; the others are gonna kill me when I get back!"
"I think they'll be more relieved than bloodthirsty," the man said with a chuckle, standing up as well and holding out a hand for the boy to shake. "I'll keep you in my prayers, Elijah. And feel free to come on by if you ever want to talk again... though during my office hours, if that's okay with you!"
The teen snickered a little, shaking his hand.
"I think I will," he said. "There's so much I still want to talk about, and-" He looked like he was about to say something else, but he seemed to decide not to. "Thank you again, Fr. Gabriel; I really appreciate it."
"No problem. Would you like to use the rectory phone to call Mr. Xanatos? I don't think you should be out walking this time of night."
"Sure! And I-"
Elijah stopped right before walking out of the pew, his back to the priest. The man wasn't sure what had happened, but he sensed a change in tone as he saw the teenager's shoulders tense, as if afraid. After a few seconds, he turned back around, the guilty expression having returned to his face.
"I... I didn't tell you... everything," the teenager said, his hands shaking a little. "There's something... else."
"What is it," the priest asked curiously.
Elijah took a few shuddering breaths, as if steeling himself to say what he wanted to say. Finally, he spoke.
"I... I felt something earlier today," he said in a low voice, mainly looking at his feet; Fr. Gabriel had to strain to hear what he was saying. "Something... Something unnatural. I was reading a book, and... and I dropped it off my bed, and I... I quickly reached over to try and grab it... before it hit the ground, and... and..." He looked up at the priest, a worried and frightened expression on his face. "I think... I think Owen was right... Ma- She's... affected me, and... I don't know what that means for me."
Fr. Gabriel was silent, taking in this piece of information. After everything he had heard, he would have been lying if he said he wasn't spooked. He had no idea what was going to happen next, but he had a feeling that he was about to enter into uncharted territory.
"Okay," he said calmly, sitting back down and motioning for Elijah to do the same. "Tell me exactly what happened."
[][][]
One year after the death of Jeffrey Robbins...
Elijah walked over to his uncle's gravestone, a small bouquet of flowers in his hand and Gilly at his heels. It was a warm day, with a light breeze, and the sky was a brilliant blue with some clouds passing overhead. He could smell the salt from the ocean, overwhelming the scent of the roses and lilies he held. Finally reaching the grave, he knelt in front of it, looking at the name etched in the stone.
The teenager looked a little different; he had grown a few inches, and his new hairstyle added another inch. He also looked healthier and happier, no longer looking like the depressed, grieving teen he had been the year before. Even though he was sad this day, it being the anniversary of that night, he was in a better place, and no longer worrying about half of the things he had been worried about.
"Hey, Uncle Elijah," he said, smiling sadly as he set the flowers at the foot of the stone. Gilly sat down next to the grave, whimpering a little. "I hope you're doing okay. I dunno if you're in Heaven, but I hope you're at peace; I'm praying for you every day. I'm doing better myself, all things considered.
"I'm doing... I'm doing okay now," he continued, wiping at a stray tear on his face. "I'm living at Castle Wyvern now. Well, technically the Xanatos' penthouse under it, but they're pretty much the same thing. Mr. and Mrs. Xanatos have taken me in as their ward, and even offered to send me to a fancy private school, but I wanted to keep going to public school. Keep one part of my life relatively normal. Because let me tell you, my life's far from normal. But you knew that, and accepted it... and I've accepted it too.
"The gargoyles are all fine; Brooklyn and Katana's egg hatched back in march. It's a girl, and they named her Tachi. Nashville said he wasn't too happy to have a sister, but I can tell he likes her; he always wants to hold her. And as for the others, Lex is starting his own company with Xanatos' help. Crazy, right? It's gonna be some tech company, but I'm not too sure what it's all about, and of course, Lex's being a gargoyle is gonna be a secret to the public for now. Angela and Broadway are still a couple, but I think they're gonna get married. Well, the gargoyles call it a 'Wind Ceremony,' but basically they'll be married after that. So who knows? Maybe in a few years, we'll have another baby gargoyle in the castle.
"Goliath and Elisa, speaking of, are doing fine, though I try not to think about how their relationship... works. Especially after the catechism classes I've been going to... It's a bit awkward to think about, but on to other things. Hudson and Bronx, I'm sure, are the ones you wanna hear about. They're doing fine. Hudson's coming here tonight, to say his piece. He misses you a lot. But you know how he is, old soldier and all, so he's staying strong. And he's been looking after me, making sure that I'm doing fine." The teenager smiled. "We still read a chapter of a book each night; we're reading Original Sin by P.D. James right now.
"And I've still been going to therapy, though I'm doing much better right now. Only the occasional nightmares, but I get through them. And Father Gabriel's been giving me spiritual direction, and catching me up to speed with everything I've missed with the Catechism and such." He touched the small crucifix that hung around his neck. "Did you know? I received my first communion at the Easter Vigil this year. And Confirmation, too. Elisa's boss, Mrs. Chavez, was actually my sponsor for that."
Elijah sighed, looking out at the ocean for a few moments, taking in the peaceful atmosphere that surrounded him. Before coming here, he had stopped by his uncle's old house, the gates and doors all locked with a sign discouraging trespassers. The property belonged to him, but he wouldn't be needing it anytime soon, and had only gone back a few times before today to help move some of his and his uncle's things to a storage facility.
"And... I've been doing better with the... other thing," the teenager continued, lowering his voice despite no one else being around. "I've had meetings with Owen, and he's taught Alex, who's now walking and speaking very well for a one-year-old, to help me." He looked down at his hands. "Turns out, Mab's left me with a few... reminders... probably to make sure I don't forget that night."
A breeze blew at his small bouquet, carrying them a short distance from the grave. Reaching out with his hand, he hesitated, then leaned over and picked them up, setting them back in place. Gilly looked at him quizzically.
"But Owen said, with proper control and a few spells, I should be fine. And Fr. Gabriel's given me some advice as well, helping me with this issue from a spiritual perspective." He laughed wryly. "Hopefully, God willing, it'll never be a problem for me, and if I ever have a family in the future, it won't affect-"
He abruptly stopped talking, briefly remembering Amanda. The teenager hadn't dated anyone since her, more so because he realized he was too young for a relationship. Plus, they had only been together for a few months, and were just a bunch of stupid teens who didn't know any better.
"There's still a lot I don't know," Elijah confessed, putting a hand on the tombstone. "But I want you to know that I have a family that loves and supports me, and will help me no matter what. So no need to worry about me; I'm safe now." He pressed his forehead against the stone, lowering his voice to a whisper. "I love you... and I miss you."
The deaf teenager knelt there for a minute or two before straightening up and climbing to his feet.
"Oh, I almost forgot," he said. "Your book's a best-seller, though part of that may be because you died right after you finished writing it. And the movie's still going ahead; a few big-name actors are gonna be in it, though I don't think you'd like any of them." He smiled. "But your book inspired me, and I think I'm gonna be a writer too. Carry on your legacy and memory, as well as those of my family and friends."
He looked back towards the road, seeing the Xanatoses and Owen standing by a car, waiting for him. Turning back to the gravestone, Elijah said a few prayers before he finally turned away from it and the past, heading towards the future with hope and determination in his heart.
This chapter has a lot of emotions in it. Elijah has been through a traumatic experience, and is grieving the loss of his uncle. I wanted to showcase his reactions in the month and so after the funeral, as well as how the gargoyles and human allies reacted as well. Then, the priest bit, was him realizing the truth that he didn't kill his uncle, as well as finding someone who can help him heal from everything he's gone through.
And as for how Mab has exactly affected him... That's something for another day, and for another story.
I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and the story so far! Keep an eye out for the epilogue with in the next four to six weeks, as well as for the beginning of my sequel to this story, 'The Revelation of Thomas Robbins.' Have a great day, and stay safe! And everyone taking finals, I'm praying for y'all!
-aggiefrogger
Note: I do not own Elton John or any of his songs, the Catholic Church, Jurassic Park, or Gargoyles at all.