PERSONAL MATTERS
DISCLAIMER: Once again this is my own work and I make no profit from it. The Gargoyles' characters are owned by Buena Vista. My thanks to them and to the many authors who contribute to the fanfic series, The Gargoyle Saga.
AUTHORS NOTE: This is number four in my series and follows the story Secrets.
Jesus Zapata pushed the heavy cart through the store, trailing after his new foster mother. She barely glanced at him, pausing occasionally to add a new item to the cart. Esther Hernandez, a thin hatchet faced woman of about 40, frowned at her list and moved away quickly.
"Try to keep up," she admonished as Jesus lagged behind, pushing the cart over the rough patches of missing tile in the floor of the small grocery. He pushed harder as a rear wheel decided to stop and rotate in place at one point and just missed running into Hernandez when it came free. She smothered an oath and glared at him before dropping a few more items into the cart.
She finally turned and headed towards the front of the store. Esther watched suspiciously, as her purchases were totaled, wary of any attempt to overcharge her. Paying for the items reluctantly, she watched them bagged and loaded back into her cart.
"Let's go." She turned and walked out, leaving the cart for Jesus. He pushed along behind her, struggling a bit with the balking cart and the uneven pavement. "Hurry up. There's a lot of work to do at home."
The groceries were soon loaded into the old car, and they were on their way. "As soon as you get the groceries put up I want you to mop the floor and wipe down the tables. Make sure the caf ready to open." Jesus nodded.
It had become a familiar routine over the last five weeks. He was expected to fetch and carry and do the cleaning at the small caf his foster parents owned. The fact that this left him little or no time for schoolwork didn't bother them in the slightest. As they saw it he didn't have any prospects anyway, something they reminded him of frequently.
Thomas Hernandez was waiting for them when they got back to the restaurant. Jesus could tell the stocky, gray-haired man wasn't happy before he got out of the car. He grabbed the boy by his ear and hauled him inside. "That bathroom is filthy! I told you to clean it this morning."
"You also told me to sweep the store room, mop the kitchen and do dozen other things." Jesus protested. "I didn't get to finish it before we went to the store." Thomas' face darkened.
"Don't talk back to me you little brat!" he fumed, slapping Jesus across the face. "You'll do your work properly or you won't eat. Clear?" Jesus nodded and went to clean the bathroom.
Several hours later Jesus lay on the bed in his small room, utterly exhausted. He had finished everything in time for the dinner crowd. He had been rewarded with a plate of cold tamales.
If she learned how to cook, he thought morosely, perhaps they would have more customers and could afford to hire someone to do this stuff. He glanced over at his schoolbooks, but he just couldn't manage the trip from the bed to the dresser. The prospect of multiplication and division problems was too daunting. He fell asleep fully clothed and didnt stir until it was time for school.
OOOOOOOOOO
The next afternoon, Jesus sat at a table in the caf playing a hand held video game. Mrs. Eckhardt was visiting. Mrs. Eckhardt was the social worker that had placed Jesus with them. Jesus always looked forward to her visits. It was the only time he got a break from working. While she was there he was just a typical 12 year-old kid, not a slave. The topic under discussion at the moment was his schoolwork.
"His teachers tell me that his grades have dropped significantly in the last couple of weeks. He has stopped turning in assignments and often dozes off in class. Now there could be any number of reasons for this, but we have to start with the home situation." She looked at the couple earnestly. "Do you know why this is happening?"
Thomas nodded and looked genuinely upset. "I believe it is his sister. At first she wrote him every week, but it has been almost two months since she has written. I know they are very close." Esther nodded.
"He has just been worrying himself sick about her. He's so distracted lately."
"I see. Well that is certainly understandable. She is the only family he has left." She turned to Jesus. "Jesus, would you come here please?" He got up and moved to their table. "Mr. Hernandez tells me you haven't heard from Magdalena in some time. You're worried about her, huh?" He nodded. That was true enough. "I understand. I know that worrying about her must be very distracting." She smiled down in what she fondly believed was a consoling manner. "What if I promised to make my best effort to find her? Do you think that you could try to concentrate a bit more on your schoolwork then? You're teachers are really worried. You used to be such a good student." He nodded, not daring to look at his foster parents. He knew what they wanted him to say and what they would do if he didn't.
"I'll try Mrs. Eckhardt, I promise." He thought a moment. "I have her last letter with the place she was working, would that help?"
"Yes," Eckhardt smiled warmly. "Yes that would help a great deal. I'm sure I can find her for you. Give me a little time, and I'll bring you news." Soon, Jesus hoped, please soon so I can get out of here.
OOOOOOOOOO
She put down the phone, careful not to slam it. Eckhardt rubbed her eyes tiredly. She was certain she was being lied to. The letter Magdalena had sent her brother said she was working for a company called Malon, but Malon's personnel office said that she had resigned more than a month ago. It had been like pulling teeth to get that much out of them. She looked back at the file on her desk. She didn't like Malon. Maybe it was just the person she had talked to, but she was certain they were being deliberately evasive.
She sighed. Well, she had promised that she would try to find the kid's sister. Overworked as she was she couldn't blow it off just because it wouldn't be as easy as she had thought. She picked up a picture of the girl and opened a file on her computer. The file said she had been living in a shelter before she got the job with Malon. Maybe she went back there, or to another.
After an hour of calling she had no decent leads. There were a fair number of Hispanic women in the shelters around New York, but none of them by that name. Even considering the possibility that she had used a different name, only a handful fit the profile. Most were either too old, too young or were part of a family. Once that was out of the way she did something she really hated to do. She started calling the morgues.
OOOOOOOOOO
Morgan led the way down to the morgue. He looked at the nervous, fifty-something woman beside him. He hoped she didn't find what she was looking for.
"Here we are," he said. "This is the only Jane Doe we have that fits the description you gave us." He nodded to the coroner who pulled back the sheet. Eckhardt bent over for a closer look and then sighed in relief.
"No," she double checked the picture to be sure. "This definitely isn't her." The young hooker on the slab, who had died of a drug overdose, bore no resemblance to Magdalena Zapata. Poor kid. Oh well, she thought glumly, plenty more where she came from. The city just seemed to chew up people and spit them out. It was the most depressing aspect of her job.
She leaned against the closed morgue drawers looking as tired as she felt. Then she flinched away, glancing at the closed drawers nervously. "I've looked everywhere. All of the shelters, the hospitals, and now the morgues. I don't know what I'm going to tell that kid about his sister."
"Have you considered reporting her missing?" Morgan asked. "We might find something you haven't been able to find."
"With all the crime in this city how much time could you spend on it? Long enough to check the shelters, hospitals, and morgues?" Morgan winced and nodded uncomfortably. Then he brightened.
"Hey, I know. One of our detectives has a brother who runs a homeless shelter. He used to be a cop. This sort of thing is right up his alley. If anyone could help you find her he could." Actually, Morgan wasn't sure. He hadn't seen Derek Maza since hed resigned. What little he knew came from Derek's sister, Elisa. It was worth a shot though. "Come on, I'll take you to her."
OOOOOOOOOO
Elisa looked up at Morgan from behind a stack of case files. "You better not be bringing me another case Morgan," she warned only half-jokingly.
"Not exactly, detective. Actually, I thought Derek might be able to help her." Elisa gave the woman a guarded look. She seemed harmless.
"What's this about?" Eckhardt sat down and told her. Elisa listened carefully and nodded. Derek might be able to do something. "I'll pass the message to him and let you know if we find anything."
"I appreciate that." She left her phone number, a copy of the information she had on the missing woman and went on her way. Elisa tucked the paper into her pocket and went back to work. She would see Derek later that night. It was one of the monthly family dinners that had become something of a ritual for all of them. Each of them looked forward to it, but some with less enthusiasm than others. Elisa knew that this news would be trouble for one of the new mutates. She had seen it happen before.
OOOOOOOOOO
Magdalena banked to the left and descended towards the building that housed the Hernandez' restaurant. This night she would do it. She would show herself to her brother. She had made the same commitment before her three previous visits. Her nerve always broke before she could actually get close to the restaurant. She had only seen Jesus from a distance. He seemed well enough, and he had a normal life. How could she pop up and intrude on that? Telling him what had happened would mean involving him in the weirdness that her life had become. It wouldn't be fair. But I miss him!
She landed on a nearby roof overlooking the back entrance of the restaurant. There were only a few customers and Jesus was nowhere to be seen. She saw something else though, that made her stiffen briefly in anger. The full moon that night cast very distinct shadows. The two figures crouched on the roof above and behind her probably didn't realize they were fully visible.
"I told Hunter that this was a private matter. That was good enough for him." She turned and looked up at the gargoyles on the roof. "Why are you here?"
The twins looked down in surprise. "How did you know we were here?" Graeme asked, astonished.
"I have eyes in the back of my head," Zapata snapped but then reigned in her temper. They were only kids, probably just out playing. At the moment, they were looking at her a bit strangely. She almost laughed when she realized that they weren't sure if she had meant that literally or not. She gestured for them to come down. "Why did you follow me?"
"We were just curious," Ariana explained. "You and your clan are always so secretive. Is there some way we can help you? I mean you don't have to do this alone, whatever this is," she hastily added.
Magdalena smiled. "That is thoughtful, but there is nothing you can do. This is not a secret. It is just something personal. Now, you'd best be going. Your mama will be worried if she knows you two are out on your own." She shooed them away and then turned back to the restaurant.
"Ah, little brother, I miss you." When they were kicked out of their apartment he had been put in foster care. She had only seen him a couple of times since and had not spoken to him at all since the change. She sighed, chickening out once again. "He has a normal life. It wouldn't be fair to show up like this and turn it upside down." Her decision made, she nevertheless lingered, hoping to catch sight of him.
OOOOOOOOOO
Joey Cowen watched the robbery impassively. The two masked thugs barged out of the gas station and rushed down the street on foot, pulling off the masks as they went. They ducked into the side street where they had left their car. His face remained impassive as the two stopped and stared in astonishment.
"Where is it?"
"It was right here. I know where we parked."
"Well it ain't here now. What do we do?"
"Some one must've stole it. Lousy thieves, never a cop around when you need one." This earned him a cuff to the head from his friend.
"What?" he asked, sounding truly baffled. The sound of sirens cut off any further debate. Both ran for the most obvious means of exiting the street, the fire escape where Joey was waiting.
As they started to climb, he casually reached out and ran a few hundred volts through the metal. Both men cried out and fell from the ladder, landing in an ungainly heap at the bottom. They were just beginning to come around when the cops arrived. Joey smiled for the first time as he watched the two cuffed and loaded into a squad car.
"Say hello to your friends on Rikers' for me Marty. Two to five is a lot less than you deserve, but it'll have to do." He frowned. Maybe Marty Purvis never would be tried for, or even accused of, the murder of Joey's partner, but he was not going to get away free and clear. "For you Mac," he whispered.
OOOOOOOOOO
Ellie Shannon stared at the board in amazement. "That's checkmate all right." She glanced up at Maggie who was smiling, obviously pleased with herself. "Where did you learn to play chess like that? No one's ever beaten me that fast before."
"I grew up on a farm. Where we lived there weren't a lot of diversions when the work was done." She shrugged. "I had to find some way to amuse myself." Ellie sat back and slumped in her chair. "What about you? Your family?"
"Gone. My mom died when I was little and dad died a couple of years ago."
"Oh. I'm sorry."
"It's all right. I don't know what seeing me like this would have done to them." She looked down at herself. "Do you think there is a way back?" Maggie sagged a bit and shook her head.
"I don't know. I hope so." Ellie looked up at the tone in her voice.
"You don't sound so sure."
"Well," she hesitated a moment more. "It's Derek. I'm not sure he'll take a cure if one is found. I think he's come to like the way he is."
"And you?"
"If Derek chooses to stay" she shook her head. "I'm not sure. It may be a moot point anyway. Dr. Goldblum hasn't made much progress." Ellie opened her mouth to speak, but then closed it again. Suddenly looking uncomfortable. "What is it? Go on."
"I was wondering If there is no way back, what will you miss the most?" Maggie sat back, her expression unreadable.
"I don't know." She looked uncomfortable. "It's not something I think about y'know? Why think about what you can't have, and if there is a way back it doesn't matter." Ellie nodded.
"True, but" she broke off. "You're right. Either way, there's no point in thinking about it."
"Ellie, I don't know you that well, but I can see something is bothering you. What is it?" Ellie frowned, thinking.
"I'm sorry. I don't mean to bring you down. It isn't important."
"Of course it is." Maggie was usually rather timid, but she would not back down when she saw someone hurting. Ellie sighed.
"When dad died I was all alone. I promised myself that someday I would have a big family of my own. A husband and maybe three or four kids. I thought, maybe the more I have the less chance of it all being taken away. Now," she shrugged. "What kind of chance do I have? Even if I can still have kids, what would they be like? After the changes we've been put through is it even possible?" Maggie was silent for a long time.
"I don't know how to answer that. It's not like I haven't considered it. I mean Derek and I" She broke off and Ellie got the distinct impression she was blushing; though it was difficult to tell through the fur. Well, that's one advantage to having fur that I hadn't thought of, Ellie thought, and almost giggled.
"It's something we haven't talked about, though maybe we should." Maggie finished the thought a bit awkwardly. "Is something funny?"
Ellie told her and Maggie stared at her a second in surprise, then started to laugh. When Derek found them they were both clutching their sides and gasping for breath.
"I didn't know chess was so much fun," he commented. This set them off again. Ellie looked speculatively from Derek to Maggie and back again. Her eyes moved over his huge frame in an obviously appraising manner. Maggie saw and kicked her in the shin, starting to laugh again. Derek noticed the exchange and beat a hasty retreat from the room.
Elisa could hear the laughter from down the corridor as Derek left the mutates' quarters. "What's going on in there?"
"I don't think I want to know," her brother answered morosely. Elisa cocked an eyebrow at him but decided not to pry. Instead she handed him a folder.
"We need to talk. Is Hunter around?"
OOOOOOOOOO
They looked at the picture and read the file together. Finally, Hunter nodded. "Its her. No doubt. I'll give her the file and the message about her brother, but what she does about it will have to be her own decision."
"He's her family. He has a right to know."
"That's not our decision. Would you have involved Derek in your vendetta against Xanatos if you had even suspected what would happen?" Elisa opened her mouth then closed it abruptly, biting off a sharp response.
"That's not fair." Derek spoke up a bit angrily.
"No it isn't, but it doesnt change the fact that our lives are dangerous. Magdalena will have to make her own decisions. All I can do is support her right to make them. I know you mean well, but she's not to be pressured, understood?" They both nodded, knowing he was right.
OOOOOOOOOO
That night Magdalena watched the back of the restaurant again. She held the picture of herself and her brothers in one hand. She looked down at the picture again. It had been taken in Santa Fe, five years ago. Their parents had still been alive then. Her big brother Arturo was still alive then. He was smiling and wearing a University of New Mexico sweatshirt. One arm was draped around his little sister's shoulders. The other rested on Jesus' head, ruffling his hair.
Much simpler times, she reflected. Who would have believed life could change so drastically? Jesus, at least, had something resembling a normal life. She couldn't intrude on that. She couldn't take away his best chance at stability. She sighed. She would not come back again. She would see that the picture was returned to him, so he could have a reminder. Maybe he would think she ran out on him.
"Better that, than he find out what really happened and get caught up in this madness." She nodded. "Yes. It is best that way." She turned to go, but hesitated when she heard the back door open.
"You clumsy little idiot!" a man shouted. There was the distinctive sound of someone being hit. Magdalena turned back, wondering what was happening. Jesus stumbled out the door, crying. A man in a cook's apron followed. "How could you drop an entire stack of plates?" he yelled. "Do you know how much that stuff costs?"
"I didn't mean to!"
"Shut up! What am I supposed to do with you? You're worthless to me! Can't you do anything right?"
Jesus knew he shouldn't say anything, but a perverse impulse made him speak out. "If you paid me you could take it out of my salary." Hernandez opened his mouth in surprise, unable to believe that Jesus would dare speak to him that way. "Oh, that's right. You're too cheap to hire anyone. That's why I'm here." Hernandez drew back a hand to strike him. The kid was going to learn some manners if it killed him.
A steel vise closed on Thomas' wrist. Jesus' eyes widened in terror and he backed away as Thomas crumpled; his face white with pain. He could feel the bones grinding together as another hand grabbed the back of his shirt and lifted him off the ground.
He all but forgot about his wrist as he was slammed face first into the wall. "That," purred a low, dangerous voice in his ear, "was very, very stupid." He was pulled away from the wall for a second, then slammed back. "You," slam, "do," slam, "not", slam, "hit", slam, "children!" Slam. "Are we clear on this?" A barely conscious Thomas nodded.
Magdalena looked around, "Jesus?" There was a scrabbling off to her right. Jesus bolted for the back door at the sound of his name.
"What's going on out here?" Esther Hernandez came to the back door in time to intercept Jesus. She took one look at the creature dangling her husband from one clawed hand and screamed. She then slammed and locked the door leaving Jesus outside. He spun to face her, eyes wide. Magdalena dropped the man and moved towards her brother
"I'm not going to hurt you," she said, trying to smile, while carefully hiding her fangs. "I'm a friend." Jesus hastily crossed himself and moved away down the alley. "Jesus please, I, I-it's me, Magdalena."
He stopped, staring incredulously. "It's true," she promised. "I didn't want you to see me this way, but" He moved away again, but only a few steps. Thinking quickly she began reminding him of things they had done together, kite flying in the field near their house in Santa Fe, moving to New York, visiting Arturo in the hospital after the accident. Gradually the fear faded from his eyes, but the confusion grew, if anything, stronger.
"'Lena, what happened to you?"
Sighing with relief she hugged him. "It's a long story little brother. Come, and I'll tell it to you."
"What about him? Mrs. Hernandez will call the police."
"Then it is best if we're not here when they arrive, eh?" He smiled. "Is there anything you want from here?" He shook his head adamantly. "Come on then." He climbed onto her back at her direction and she scaled the wall even as sirens drew near.
OOOOOOOOOO
They sat on a roof a few blocks away, catching up. Magdalena was doing a slow burn about the way her brother had been treated; "Didn't the social worker do anything?"
"I couldn't tell her. She wouldn't have taken me out right away, and they would have hurt me." He flinched as his big sister growled low in her throat. She immediately stopped.
"Sorry." Jesus relaxed a bit.
"Why get upset about me? You've got a lot more problems." She chuckled.
"True, but I can't do anything about that. I can help you." She pondered a moment about how to do that. "You can get out of there right away. I have a place you can go. There are even other kids there." Jesus thought a moment and shook his head.
"S'not that easy 'Lena," he pointed out. "What happens when Mrs. Hernandez calls the cops? People will be looking for you like the villagers in that old Frankenstein movie. They'll think you ate me or something. Maybe if you told people about you they'd understand." 'Lena shook her head, amazed at her little brothers foresight. He always was a smart one; she smiled.
"No can do little brother. People just aren't ready for that. Let them think I'm a gargoyle. That's what they'll think anyway." She frowned. "You're right though. You can't just disappear." She thought a moment, then smiled, not caring for a moment that all her teeth were showing. "Listen close Jesus, This is what you'll do"
OOOOOOOOOO
Morgan was not having a good night. The hysterical woman crying in Spanish was bad enough, but the reports of a gargoyle attack had the media out in force.
"Ma'am! Ma'am! Could you tell us what happened? Did a gargoyle attack your husband?" She could only nod as an ambulance pulled away with Thomas inside. He was not badly hurt, there were no broken bones, but he had an impressive collection of bruises and the paramedics had insisted on taking him for x-rays.
Travis Marshall straightened his tie just before the camera focused on him again. This was the kind of break he'd been waiting for. The cameraman signaled him. "And that is the scene here tonight. In addition to the savage beating the man received, the creature apparently also made off with a young boy, Hernandez' foster son, Jesus Zapata. As yet there has been no sign of the boy, but all of us pray that he is able to escape from the creature unharmed."
"Why would she want to harm me?" a voice asked from behind him. Marshall spun and looked down. A twelve-year-old boy was looking up at him curiously. He then shrugged and started to move away.
"Jesus? Jesus!" Esther Hernandez ran to embrace the boy. "I was worried sick about you! How did you get away?" The camera pulled in close for a good shot of the reunion, so every word carried clearly.
"If you were so worried, why did you slam the door and lock me outside with her?" Marshall had had a touching speech about the fortunate escape and happy reunion already prepared, but it died on his lips when he heard this. "Lucky for me the gargoyles aren't monsters." Morgan stepped forward at this point, cutting off Marshall's questions and Esther's excuses.
"Why was the gargoyle attacking Mr. Hernandez?" Jesus tried not to look nervous, but the attention was starting to scare him.
"She got mad when he hit me."
"He hit you?" Jesus nodded.
"I dropped some dishes. He gets really mad when I'm clumsy."
"I see," Morgan scowled. He had all but forgotten the flustered Travis Marshall who was trying to center attention on himself and the gargoyle menace again. He put his microphone in front of Morgan's face.
"What does the NYPD plan to do about these vicious attacks?"
Morgan shrugged, "Have some one arrest Hernandez at the hospital. Now if you'll excuse me I have work to do." He had to stop himself from smiling as he moved away with the boy to begin getting his story down.
OOOOOOOOOO
Fox Xanatos leaned on the back of the couch grinning broadly. "Oh, nicely done. That could have been very ugly." Her husband nodded in agreement.
"Indeed. He's very smooth though. Think he was coached?"
"I think so, but he carries it off well. And Morgan, I couldn't have written his part better. This could really work in the clan's favor, with a little help." She trailed off, thinking quietly. "I wonder which one it was. He only said 'she'." David shrugged.
"Let's go ask." They made their way to the Gargoyles' quarters and found all of them sitting around the TV watching the broadcast on another channel. Marshall's embarrassment seemed especially gratifying to Brooklyn for some reason. Lexington laughed when he heard Morgan's answer to the reporter's last question.
"Enjoying the news I see." They all looked around at Xanatos. "It seems congratulations are in order. That was very well done."
"Indeed," Goliath rumbled. "The, ah, publicity can't hurt us certainly. I wonder though, who helped the boy?"
"You mean it wasn't one of you?" Xanatos looked from Angela to Sata. Both shook their heads.
"Maggie? Or Delihla perhaps?" Angela wondered aloud.
"I doubt it," Brooklyn put in. "Delihla doesn't venture outside the labyrinth much and I can't see Maggie hitting anyone, whatever the excuse." The others nodded thoughtfully, although Sata gave her mate a questioning look.
"Hunter then. One of the females of his clan." Goliath paused frowning. "Odd though, they are not gargoyles."
"Well," Lex put in, "knowing how secretive Hunter is, if someone thinks they're gargoyles he isn't going to set them straight."
"True, perhaps" Goliath trailed off as Owen entered the room carrying Alex.
"Excuse me sir, but there is a call for you, Mr. Hunter."
"Ah, speak of the devil." Xanatos took the cell phone and moved away.
"If this is handled right" Fox began.
"If its handled right people might overlook the fact that she beat him up rather than just stopping him from hitting that boy," Angela interrupted.
"You let me handle that," Fox smiled.
OOOOOOOOOO
It had been a busy week for Jesus. He had been taken away from the Mrs. Hernandez and relocated with a new foster family. They had two other foster kids, younger than Jesus and they pestered him with questions about the 'gargoyle' that had helped him. He told them what he could without giving away his sister's secret.
No, they weren't animals like the Quarrymen said. They were smart. Yes, the one who helped him was nice but they didn't like bullies. No, he couldn't get one for show and tell at school. It went on for some time. There were no interviews. His sister asked him, once Fox had talked her into it, that he refuse to go on TV. The only public comment he made was that he didn't understand what all the fuss was about. The gargoyles were just a different kind of people.
OOOOOOOOOO
"And you knew nothing of this?" Goliath asked, trying not to sound incredulous.
"Nothing. Magdalena wanted to keep it a private matter. I respected that wish. I'm pleased with the way things turned out, but I didn't manipulate events. Do you find that so hard to believe?"
Goliath was surprised by the question, but tried not to show it. "No, but I am surprised. This all happened almost too smoothly."
"Hmm, I know what you mean. I'd suspect the whole thing was staged if I didn't know better. Fact is, 'Lena made the best of a bad situation. Her initiative does us all proud."
Goliath nodded. "Indeed. I am surprised though that this situation with her brother comes as such a surprise to you. As clan leader, such problems should be a primary concern."
Hunter sighed and sat back. "Goliath, these people aren't clan. They are strangers who, before the change, would probably have never met, let alone become friends. I hope they will become closer, but I don't pry into their personal lives, it wouldn't be well received. I offer what support they will allow and give them their space. I concern myself with the task we have set ourselves. It's my job to see that they live long enough to have a chance at building better lives. The rest will tend to itself."
Goliath considered this for a moment. "It is true, they are not blood, but they are also not soldiers. Bear this in mind when dealing with them. You are not their 'superior officer.' They follow out of respect, not obligation, and respect is not gained on the battle field alone." With that the gargoyle leader turned and left the room, leaving Hunter to consider.
OOOOOOOOOO
Hunter and his clan, he must start thinking in those terms he reminded himself, sat down to dinner around a large table in the section of the labyrinth they had made their own. They looked to him, more curious than anything else. There was respect there, there was also reservation. They had doubts about him, about their purpose. They had rarely gathered like this without some other reason.
Dinner for them had usually been an excuse for a strategy session. Or, it was a quick refueling stop. If there was any discussion at all, the current mission was discussed and nothing else. Hunter decided it was time to change that. He had to choose his words carefully if he were to quell their doubts. He launched into his prepared speech.
"I did not call you here to talk about our next mission or about our purpose at all. I have, perhaps, not done as well by you as I should have. The change has affected us all in the same way, but at the same time it has affected us all differently. This is what I have not taken into account."
The others looked at each other. This was not what they had expected. Truthfully, they had come expecting to hear fresh horror stories and plans for ending them.
"Simple pleasures, such as sharing a meal have fallen by the wayside. It wasn't my intent. I focused so much on the purpose before us I forgot that the lives we led before still matter." He smiled at Magdalena. "Thank you for reminding me." She blinked in surprise, then nodded.
"We shouldn't forget our past," she said hesitantly. She thought a moment, arguing with herself over discussing the matter with them. Then she plunged ahead. "I thought it would be best if my brother never knew what happened to me, but I couldn't do it. I kept going back to look in on him. It was a good thing I did so."
"How's he doing?" Felix asked. Magdalena smiled and began to talk.
It's a small thing, Hunter thought, a normal conversation at dinner with no 'shop talk'. It's a small thing, but its a beginning.
THE BEGINNING