Memories Faced and Dreams Come True

All the characters appearing in Gargoyles and Gargoyles: The Goliath Chronicles are copyright Buena Vista Television/The Walt Disney Company.
No infringement of these copyrights is intended, and is not authorized by the copyright holder.
All original characters are the property of BonnieS. (a.k.a. Shona of Wyvern).

            Over New York saline drops of liquid fall from a shadow, an enigma, only a veiled sketch of what once was. The figure flew on and on alone – seemingly without end. It had been of her own choice, just as the rest of that path she had traveled throughout her long life had been. Before she could hide from the doubts, fears, and pain – it hadn't been her fault before. But, now she was forced by trial and spell to face what she had successfully ignored for centuries. The truth was that nearly every fatal mistake and defeat had been her own damn fault!

After what felt akin to an eternity, that lonely corpse of a female finally crashed onto the roof of a building that she knew too well. Through a camouflaged door, down a few stairs, and through passage's hidden entrance, the shaking gargoyle moved in despair – each step bringing her more pain. Finally she threw herself into that familiar chair behind the desk of that daytime façade she was forced to wear by her own poorly chosen words. Tears were pouring down her sore and red edged eyes.

She had done so much, and what did she gain for it? Wealth, power, reputation, and some awe along the way. Yet it had cost her so much, and burdened her even more. The cost had outweighed the gains so long before, but she couldn't see the truth for what it was – until that night. Why?

She no longer had a family; her clan was completely gone. Over a thousand years before, she had helped the Captain betray the humans that had betrayed her kind. By the next sunset, all but a few were gone. Now those few, along with her only child, had cast her out – the worse of all punishments a gargoyle could receive. They hadn't said it, but she knew from what they had said that she deserved no less. This fate she brought onto herself.

So many innocent lives ended – both taken by and helped by her bloodied hands. She soberly chuckled at how like Shakespeare's Lady MacBeth she had become. How that drunken play write would have loved this plot twist! The only human she had ever loved, and betrayed too many times to hope for his love to hold for her. For centuries, she wondered if Gruoch ever realized how deeply in love she had fallen for the dead woman's husband.

Only then did Demona realize that she was not alone in the room.

          Looking up she saw one of them – a human male in an average workman's overcoat. Obviously he was one of the overnight janitors. What amazed Demona was that he didn't seem to be afraid of her, in fact this feeble insect was smiling! That annoyed the already upset gargess. "Exactly what is that you are smiling about – human fool?"

          "I was only smiling because I finally get to meet the head of the company on my last night after all. I didn't think that you worked this late Ms. Destine."

          Demona snorted at the implication. She couldn't allow this male to continue thinking he had positively identified Dominique Destine as a gargoyle. "And where do get the nerve to compare me to a human – especially that pathetic insect?"

          Again he smiled, this time slightly shaking his head as if her retort was expected. "I know that the rest of the world wouldn't accept you as you are, but I have for a long time now. I first saw you the second week I was here. You transformed from human to gargoyle. I figured that you would deny it and fire me, so I kept it to myself. Once in a while I see you after dark, but it is rare. I'm glad that I get the chance to say goodbye."

          "What is your name?" Demona suspiciously wondered why anyone would be leaving her employment without her direction to do so – as she out paid both Cybernotics and Xanatos Enterprises.

          "John Macalister, ma'am."

          Switching on her computer, Demona had the man's file up in a matter of moments as he continued to clean her office – very well from what little she watched. Finally, the computer showed her the information she was looking for.

NAME: Macalister, John Michael

Employee Number: 487392 – 00567 – 24610 – J

Section: Janitorial

Position: Overnight Building Supervisor

Date of Hire: 1998 – 5 – 14

Rating: Competent

Evaluation Notes:

1998 – 9 – 12

Mr. Macalister has gone from Secondary Crewmember to Supervisor in less than three months (partially due to those with more time with the company being dismissed, but moreover due to his performance). Every shift/section he has been assigned to has never held complaint of his performance, and several have requested him re-assigned to their sections.

1998 – 12 – 4

Macalister has continued his extraordinary performance record despite his illness and personal problems. He is on time and has been known to stay until well after morning crews come in.

1999 – 2 – 14

Macalister is over qualified for his position, yet refuses any promotion offered. Macalister Assigned to full building Janitorial Manager – like it or NOT!

        Demona remembered typing that in the end of the workday that Valentine's Day. Right on time, she remembered seeing him in her office working harder than any she had ever spied on. In fact there had not been one negative comment on any of his evaluations. Now, despite that he had managed to remain working longer than the average employment length within Night Stone and had the highest rating she had ever given out in the past, he was leaving. Demona felt that an explanation was in order.

          "If you are this efficient, why leave a job you seem to enjoy so?"

          For the first time John's face fell. "I'm dying, and a lot of other stuff on top of that."

          A twinge pulled at her gargoyle heart. It had never done so for human sobs stories before, why should it do so now? PUCK! His spell had to be reacting – but what was he doing to her?

          A shrill beeping broke the silence. Looking at his wrist, John took a breath. "Dinner break. Look, the rest of the crew are still on their break and I know that the 'surprises' they brought in for me is going to be too much for me to handle alone. If you are hungry, I'd like to share my dinner with you."

          "Alright … thank you." Demona barely whispered. This was strange she wanted to be alone, and yet she didn't. And for some odd reason she didn't find being near this human male repulsing.

          John looked as if his step had been lightened by the boss' agreement to dine. He promised to be back in a few minutes with their meal. For the second time that night, Demona was alone. Yet this time it did not fill her with the pain she had suffered the first time – this occasion brought a sense of numbness in her soul. It was as if she had no idea of how she was suppose to feel.

          She returned to reality at the sound of a buzzing in her ear. She was shocked to find that she had dialed the phone and was standing there waiting for someone on the other end to pick up. But before she could hang up, a thick Scottish brogue echoed in the phone and her stilled heart.

          "Hello?" It was MacBeth!

          Oh, why had she been so stupid as to call him of all humans? His second, and more annoyed "hello" snapped her back into the moment.

          "Happy New Year, my King." It had been far too long since she had last said that phrase with any sort of true feeling.

          MacBeth simply grunted that it had been. It pained Demona, but she knew that her voice was not one the once proud King of Castle Moray wanted to hear this night. "What do ya want of me, woman?"

          "I …" Demona couldn't think of a single reason for calling the handsome professor. "… I simply called to wish you a happier year than either of us has lived through in our long existence. You probably have guests, so I'll let you go."

          "I'm alone tonight Demona. I wanted no company to see this year off. And what of you, moping about or coming up with a new plot?" His voice gave away the suspicions he held; yet she could tell that he was curious.

          It made her smile that after all she had put him through he would still care what she was doing. "The night didn't start well, but it is slowly becoming better. I have an employee who is leaving my company that invited me to dinner. And after that, who knows for this new millennium."

          "You … dinning with an employee? Well, this is a switch! Ya mean to tell me that he's seen ya, knows who ya are in the day, and has not ran off screaming like a mad man? I'd wonder if he's sane if I were ya, lass."

          Demona couldn't hide her chuckle at that. It had been too long since she had laughed and the action would fill her with warmth. "He seems to have some respect for me, though I have no idea why. Do you remember the last time we celebrated the New Year together?"

"Aye. We ate the last meal of the year together with my Gruoch. She berated me for weeks afterwards about how it had been wrong. She finally confessed that she feared I would leave her for you." MacBeth's voice was so full of emotion.

It threw Demona off a moment. Why was he telling her this … especially now? Then she heard her dinner date coming up the hallway. Once again she had control of the situation and her voice showed it. "I have to go. Looks like my 'date' is back, and it wouldn't do for me to be on the phone."

"Nay lass. Yet, might I give yea a proposition?" MacBeth too had regained his composure. His voice again had that sweet tease that had made her long for him since a month before the night they became one by the sister's spell.

"What do you wish of me 'my King'? My head on a silver platter?" Demona regretted the thought the moment she let it slip past her lips. He was being much more kinder than she had deserved in a very long time. And now she was throwing in his face once again. Damn Puck's spell!

MacBeth on the other hand had been fully expecting it. "All I ask is that since we are unable to keep our old tradition this eve, you might join me for the first meal of the New Year instead. No tricks, and no weapons – can we share a peaceful meal together again, my night wind? Perhaps the change will change our luck as well."

How long had it been since he called her by that old pet name? The night before she first betrayed him. If he could only feel through the phone line just how deeply she ached with happiness at the sound of it. He had been the only male to heal her broken heart after finding her love and Clan frozen in stone at night.

Once she seemed to lose Goliath to the Magus' spell, she vowed to never fall in love again. Only this human had healed her enough to take a claim on her heart. A claim that she still held for him alone, and was why she was unable to face (much less accept back) Goliath and her beloved Clan. It was also why she didn't want Goliath to keep his place as her mate any longer. Truly she didn't love him in that sense.

"Alright, my King. When shall I come over?" Demona couldn't help smiling – was she getting another chance? Was this a part of the spell, or was MacBeth in a generous mood?

"At your earliest convenience, lass. I know how drained and hungry the change makes you. Happy New Year night wind."

"Happy New Year my King."

Demona hung up the phone and blinked back her tears just as John came back into the room with a basket on his arm. "Sorry that it took so long, but trying to pack all of these goodies into this little basket was a bit of a challenge."

Demona indicated that she wanted them to dine in the conference area she had recently renovated. John only nodded and quickly worked to set it all out. By the time she joined him at the table, it was all laid out. Dishes of many different kinds were in front of her. Some she happened to adore, while others she would be able to tolerate for the sake of politeness.

After serving themselves and eating in silence for a few minutes, Demona looked up at the man seated across from her.  In her eyes John didn't seem to really be ill, only worn and tired – as if he had not rested well in days. She could see dark bags under his eyes, and even under his heavy clothes that the man was painfully thin. Just what was going on in the life of John Macalister?

"You only hinted at your reasons for leaving my employment, Mr. Macalister. Would it be too much to ask you for an elaboration?"

The look on John's face showed that her request was painful to him. Nonetheless, it was followed by a look of resounding purpose. "As I said before, personal problems on top of the fact that I'm dying are why I am leaving. My wife and I had a very messy divorce and although I have full custody of our daughter, Samantha, Charlene took her and disappeared."

"Charlene was your wife then?"

John took a breath to try and remained in control. "Yes. All of that happened last year. I always hoped that one-day Charlene would get her head straightened out and bring Sam back to me. Remember the big fire that took out a motel in New Jersey about six months ago?"

Demona winced at that. She knew that fire all too well, after all had she not information about it prior to its start.  Somehow she didn't like what she knew John was about to say.  "Go on."

"Well … once it was out they found Charlene's body, but no sign of Samantha. There's little hope of ever finding my daughter. A day later I was diagnosed with terminal brain cancer.  The doctor says I have maybe a month to live, so maybe it all worked out for the best in the end.  After all with so little time left I wouldn't be able to take very good care of my daughter."  By the time he got the last sentence out, John was breaking down into tears.

Demona had never felt so guilty in all of the centuries she had survived through.  Inadvertently she had a hand in the woman's death, and now John would never find his daughter – and it was all her fault. Once not long ago Demona would have been very pleased with herself.  But with Puck's damn spell going in full force, it was difficult not to cry or feel the shame eating away at her already raw heart.

"I can see why you are leaving then. I am so very sorry for everything John." It was all she could get out, but it seemed to help.  He had no idea of the truth, and maybe that was for the best.

John reached over and tenderly took her claw into his hand, "thank you.  You don't know how much that means to me. Well, I've opened up.  I saw you were very upset coming in tonight, but if you don't want to talk about it …"

"No, no. You were honest with me, and maybe it's time I was honest with someone – including myself." Demona took a deep breath before she started.

"You were right before, when I take my human form I also take the name of Dominique Destine. How much of my story do you wish to know?"

John smiled gently, "as much as you're willing to share with me. I won't pry any further than you're willing to open."

This was so new to Demona; she hadn't been this frightened in so many years. "Well you asked for it.  I'll admit that a lot of it will seem too impossible to believe …"

"Impossible to believe? How many people would grant that I would be dining and conversing with a true, live gargoyle?"  John chuckled.

Demona nodded and began her tale back with the Wyvern Clan, and all that turned her against humans. She told John about how she had betrayed her Clan and the humans, as well as the price her kind paid for her betrayal. She told him all that she lived through from that night, to the true story of MacBeth, to the Hunter, and to when she convinced David Xanatos to buy Castle Wyvern and place it on top of the Aerie tower to break the Magus' spell. She told John about how in the end she betrayed her Clan again. From her attempt to poison Elisa Maza to the fact she knew about the fire that claimed the life of his ex-wife before it happened. And then she confessed what happened that night that upset her so badly. By this time Demona was fully expecting the man to be disgusted with her or at the least scream and rage at her.

John had never moved or reacted to the whole of his boss' story. She hadn't been kidding when she warned that parts of it were hard to believe. He had no energy to waste being angry with her for the fire.  There was no way she could have known about Charlene and Samantha. At least now, Demona would learn the lesson she had worked so hard to avoid.

By that time Demona was done with her tale, they were both long past finished eating, and John had to get back to work. "You don't have to worry about me going to press, Ms. Destine.  Besides who would believe me if I were to tell them all of what you just told me?  I'd better get back to work, and I hope that the rest of your life gets a lot better.  After all I think you're due for break, don't you?"

Demona smiled and chuckled through her tears.  "You just might be right, Mr. Macalister.  And please call me Dominique, as I think that may be it is high time for Demona to die."

"As long as you'll call me John. It was nice meeting you Dominique."

"You too John."

And with that he was gone, and a tired gargoyle was once again alone.  Dominique was frustrated, she felt like she just had to do something for him. Damn if it was a holiday or not, this would not wait until Monday.  Again Dominique picked up the phone, but this time she knew exactly whom she was calling.

An hour after her dinner, Dominique raced home to get ready for her breakfast with her King.  After another hour going through her closet, she set her bath (a rare act for her) and prepared for the pain of the coming dawn.

As the sky lightened and the sun rose Dominique blacked out.  She didn't wake up until twenty minutes later.  No gnawing pain, no twisting organs, nothing – as if she had slept through the whole of her change. This shook her to the core, but she was afraid to waste anymore time than was needed to get herself ready.

She carefully bathed herself, taking great pains to cleanse herself everywhere. It took over an hour, but it was well worth it. She could feel her past trickling off her body with the soap and bubbles; she saw it disappear down the drain with the dirty water. Dominique felt at last that she could start all over again, and this time she was determined to make her life (however long it would last) worth living and remembering.

Once dried she quickly dressed. A dark red velvet skirt, dark green sweater, with a deep red plaid vest that reminded her of the Moray pattern. After finally finding herself pleased with how her hair looked and with the very little make-up she applied, Demona started out.

She went down the stairs and into her living room to fetch her keys when her eyes spotted a small box. Shame had found its way back into her heart. Angela had left it for her as a Christmas gift, but the then Demona had brushed it aside – never bothering to see what the girl had chose as her gift and then tediously wrapped it with ivy covered paper, star tinsel ribbon, and an angel tree decoration.

On the other hand, the new Dominique cherished the small package as if it was the last one she would ever again see. Carefully she undid the ribbon that held the ornament to the box, and placed the angel on the mantle of her fireplace – hoping that one-day her former daughter would come and see it there.

Returning to the box, she tenderly removed the shiny paper. On the lid of the box was written in bold lettering the words 'I miss you'. Had this been why Angela was so destroyed by Demona's snapped decision at refusing Elisa's opinion? Was it that now dead demon's fault that Angela turned to that human female and acknowledged Maza as her true mother? How stupid Demona had been. Dominique wondered if there was any hope for her.

Inside the box brought fresh tears to her eyes. Dominique saw a pair of holly earrings along with a pendent of an angel sat on two boughs of the same plant. She put on the jewelry, and knew for once just how much she had lost. Now she had to fight to regain whatever she could salvage of the wreck that Demona had made of their lives.

9 AM on the dot Dominique Destine found herself standing before Moray Manor, the home of Prof. Lennox MacDuff – better known to a very select few as the former Scottish King MacBeth. This meeting meant so much to her, but she couldn't think of a single reason why.

A part of her felt like giving up, but she had come this far – it would be a waste to not see this through. Especially when she heard the door open.

That first look at her love was burned into Dominique's mind. Tall, proud, with a smile that gave her heart a new hope. Black slacks, gray turtleneck, and a red rose in his hand. "Good morning night wind. Come in before you catch your death out there."

"As if either of us could, my king. I must say that you are looking very nice this morning. Is that French toast I smell? You remembered?" Dominique gasped back the tears in her eyes as she turned to see him smiling all the deeper.

In Paris, when she tried to trick him into marrying her, she let it slip that it was her favorite breakfast. Taking the rose from his hand, she inhaled its delicate scent with the greatest of joys.

The morning and their meal passed in a happy peace, the first this couple had found in centuries. She even helped him clear the table after they were done. It was an odd feeling, being so close to this male for so long without fighting or even hating him. It was a feeling she knew that she would enjoy having every day, if she would ever be so lucky as to have him in her life on a daily basis. She wondered how the centuries could have been if she had felt this way before.

As he filled the dishwasher, she took her glass of orange juice and wandered into the living room. Looking out on the back yard was two full-length glass French doors. It was near noon and the shimmering winter sun made the snow twinkle like tiny diamonds covering the ground.

It filled Dominique with such peace. She didn't sense MacBeth walk up to her until he carefully wrapped his arms around her waist from behind. "Peaceful heh? Are ya happy, my night wind?"

"Right at this moment the majority of me is, the rest is tingling with fear. I'm afraid that soon I'll wake up." Dominique sighed sadly as she dropped her gaze to the hardwood floor beneath them both.

MacBeth chuckled as he walked around her, carefully sat he glass on a nearby table, took both of her hands, and led her out into his back gardens. "Then shall we enjoy our dream every moment we have of it?"

Dominique could see him gather snow in his hands and beat him to the first throw of their snowball fight. For well over an hour snow flew back and forth as laughter filled the air. Dominique began to feel alive again, and she love MacBeth all the more for being the one who making her feel so.

The pair went out for lunch after cleaning and warming up from their fun filled morning. Then they skated in Rockefeller Center, and rode in a carriage around Central Park. Several times they would have sworn that they saw the Clan as humans walking around, but that just couldn't be …could it?

The light snow that had started as they left that afternoon had grown heavy as they pulled into his driveway. From the looks of it a blizzard was not too far away.

"I had better get going my King. The way this snow is coming down, I'll probably end up walking halfway home from wherever my car stalls at." Yet deep inside, Dominique didn't want the day to end.

What she didn't know was that MacBeth too wanted to keep the day going. "It would be safer and much warmer if ya just wait out the storm here, my night wind."

"We both know things might go to a point one or both of us might wake up to regret if I stay. Besides, who would want to mess with a human who turns into a gargoyle at night?" Dominique could see the longing and sadness in his brown eyes.

Gods, how she felt it too. She wanted to stay with him the rest of their days. But she didn't want him to regret it if something would happen between them. Dominique knew inside that she never would.

"I would never regret the chance to keep this day going into the night. We both be lonely, night wind. You know that I can feel it within you."

Once upon a time she would have growled and either attacked him or left at that. She hated to feel weak, and hated more so when others knew that she felt it. But tonight she just needed someone to hold her. Double damn Puck and his spell!

Slowly Dominique opened her eyes the next morning. What stunned her was how safe she felt, and how the lonely emptiness had nearly vanished. If anything she felt like giggling. Was this the happiness she had search centuries for? Could what she did the night before be the reason?

Turning over she saw the man who had made her feel this way – her King and lover. Without knowing why she curled closer to his body, hoping for this to not be some sweet dream she would eventually wake from.

"Good morning my night wind." MacBeth merely had his eyes shut, enjoying the sensation of having the woman so close without hate getting in their way.

Dominique crawled into his arms and rested her head on his broad chest. "A very good morning it is indeed, my King."