After her discussion with Brooklyn, Angela desperately wanted to speak to Goliath. Dawn would come in less than an hour, but she hoped to try to plead her case before then. She hurried down the corridor, toward the common room where they typically came together before mounting the parapets for the day, but as she turned the corner she nearly collided with Broadway, who had been looking for her in earnest.

"There you are!" he said in relief, "I was wondering if you'd left the castle or something."

"I was just talking to Brooklyn in Hudson's sitting room," she explained.

"Is he alright?"

Angela nodded, "He says that he's okay."

"Are you alright?" Broadway asked gently. Angela opened her mouth to tell him she was fine, but no words came out. Instead, she fell forward into his arms, resting her face on his shoulder.

"I don't want to lose her completely," she whispered through tears that brimmed and stung her eyes. Broadway held her tightly.

"I know," he said, "But I think we already lost her a long time ago."

"I just can't accept that." Broadway's embrace was warm and comforting. She could always count on him to listen to her and not make her feel like a complete fool.

"You don't really have to accept it," he pointed out and she decided to tell him what she had kept from Brooklyn, that Demona has asked Goliath to let her die.

"He won't do it," Broadway insisted, "There's no way."

Angela looked up at his face, surprised by his confidence.

"How do you know?"

"Because, from the very beginning, even before we knew that only Macbeth could kill her, he told us that was one thing that wasn't on the table. Even when Brooklyn, Elisa, and all the rest of us told him there was no way she would ever change, he wouldn't even consider it. And even after she killed all those people and Macbeth was completely ready to end her right then and there, Goliath still stopped him from killing her." Angela considered this hopefully.

"But it's a little different now," she pointed out, "Before she wasn't asking him for it."

Broadway shook his head emphatically, "I tell you he'll never allow it. He…still loves her." Angela's assurance faded slightly.

"He can't even bear to speak of her," she said doubtfully, "I always hope he will tell me something about her. The way she was before. Their life together. Anything about their youth, their childhood, or the rest of the clan. I don't regret having been raised the way I was, but I do regret all that I'm missing and the family I can only know through shared memories. But he gets upset if I even mention her name."

"Yeah," Broadway agreed reluctantly, "A few weeks ago, I was talking about something I remembered from before we came here, and of course I mentioned her without thinking and Goliath just got up and disappeared into the library and stayed there until dawn." Broadway paused, then said, "I think it just hurts him so much to think about her."

They held each other for a long time, until Broadway said quietly, "It's almost dawn. We could just go up and ask him what he plans to do." She looked up at him incredulously and he shrugged.

"He might be ready to tell us anyway, and then you wouldn't have to worry."

Angela wasn't sure this was the best idea, but it was time for them to assemble on the tower, so they glided up together. The rest of the clan was there already, except for Goliath.

"Have you seen him?" Brooklyn asked them anxiously, "He never came up from wherever they're locking Demona up tonight."

"Look!" Lexington exclaimed, leaning over the edge and pointing, "There he is."

Far below them, on the lowest parapet, Goliath was walking alone, though he was making no effort to reach the tower before the first blades of sunlight broke through the fog below them.

"I guess he wants to be alone right now," Lexington concluded. Angela felt crestfallen, but she resolved that she would talk to him the following evening as soon as they woke.

The next night, as the sunset relieved them of their stone sleep, they were greeted by an assault of pelting rain.

"Well, this is lovely," Brooklyn commented sarcastically, and they scrambled into the tower for shelter. Angela, on the other hand, headed straight down to the parapet, where Goliath had spent the day. He saw her approaching and gestured for her to join him in the shelter of the watchtower. He greeted her with a sympathetic embrace and inquired how she was.

"Not well," she admitted, "Worried sick."

Goliath frowned.

"Try not to be," he beseeched her.

"Tell me it's going to be alright."

"It will," he assured her, far too quickly.

"What will you do?" she asked fretfully.

"Just try not to worry," he told her, "Your mother wishes to see you tonight." She eyed him with suspicion, hoping to catch a hint of what he was thinking.

"You don't typically encourage me to speak with her," she pointed out.

"I'm not encouraging you now. I'm merely telling you that she asked for you. It's your decision if you want to go to her or not. But if you do, take all the time you need. The rest of us will patrol tonight. Owen can show you where she is."

This sudden change in attitude regarding spending time with Demona was unnerving to her, but she thanked him for his consideration.

Owen was less-than-enthusiastic about escorting her.

"This isn't the most opportune time," he told her, "Mr. Xanatos is planning to visit Demona shortly."

"Goliath said she was asking to see me," Angela told him. His eyes narrowed as he seemed to consider her request.

"Very well. Follow me."

Demona was crouched on the floor of her prison cell, seemingly intent on something on the floor. Owen pressed a series of buttons on a wall panel and a heavy, steel doorway opened to allow Angela access to the cell.

"I've disarmed the bars at the front of the cell, but the external doorway remains active. Don't touch it," Owen warned her, "Mr. Xanatos will be here shortly, so don't expect an extensive visit this evening."

Angela stepped forward into the cell. There was a hard, plastic chair and a hard, plastic platform hanging from the wall that she assumed was meant to be a bed. The blankets and pillow remained untouched, in a neat pile. There was a shelf at the end of the platform that contained some books and a large plastic container filled with bottled drinks, various fruit, and pre-packaged snacks. Demona looked up at her from her place on the floor and Angela saw that she was working on a jigsaw puzzle.

"Are you alright?" Demona asked her.

Angela snorted, "Everyone keeps asking me that."

"Isn't that a good sign? There are many who care about you?"

Angela nodded but changed the subject quickly.

"Is that for you to sleep on?" she asked, gesturing to the plastic platform affixed to the wall.

"I suppose that's what it is for. I can't sleep though. In my natural form, I'm not meant to sleep that way. And I don't know how to sleep as a human. Anytime I try, I keep waking up in a panic." It sounded horrible to Angela, being completely without rest.

"Is that what you're supposed to eat?" she asked, pointing to the baskets.

Demona shrugged, "I don't really have to eat anything in order to live, and none of those interest me."

Angela picked up a package of iced toaster pastries, wrapped in plastic and smiled to herself.

"It's too bad I didn't bring Broadway along. He absolutely loves these things."

"You are very fond of him," Demona remarked, "It's evident whenever you speak of him."

"Yes, I am."

"How fond?" she asked boldly and then, after a moment's thought, added, "If you care to say."

Angela crouched down on the opposite end of the floor.

"I love him very much," she confessed, "I want to be mated to him…someday." Demona didn't respond but studied the puzzle before her.

"I suppose you disapprove of that?"

Demona looked back up curiously. "Why on earth should I disapprove of Broadway?"

"Not of Broadway. Of my being mated with anyone in general."

Demona laughed in surprise.

"Do you think I would condemn you to a lifetime of celibacy? Gargoyles aren't meant to live in isolation, Angela," she scolded lightly, "I might as well disapprove of your gliding, or walking, or breathing." She paused, as if she'd just thought of something, then added, "You must choose your mate wisely. Once you are mated, you will never be whole again without him. But once you have chosen, love him freely and without fear. No, of course I don't disapprove of you wanting to be bound to someone that way. I clearly can't guarantee that love will bring you certain happiness, but it is the best chance we have."

Angela was astounded. She never imagined that Demona would speak so freely and even passionately to her about something so personal. All her acts of jealousy, hate, and rage suggested that Demona had forsaken love entirely, and yet, to Angela, she gave it an almost ardent endorsement. Perhaps it was her shock at Demona's unexpected response that led Angela to blurt out the question, "Do you regret being mated to my father?" Just as suddenly as it had come, Demona's passion melted away.

"I...-

But they were interrupted by the sound of someone entering and Demona stood abruptly as Xanatos strolled in, wearing one of his mechanical exoskeletons, with Owen behind him.

"Good evening, ladies," he greeted them confidently, and to Demona he said, "I trust you were comfortable with the accommodations today?" Demona said nothing and watched him mistrustfully. He approached her and placed two large bottles in her claws.
"Here, I've brought you two bottles of the most pretentiously labeled bottled water I could find." Demona looked at the two bottles skeptically and asked, "Why?"

"Because the packaging on the tranquilizer says that it is best taken with water," he explained.

"What tranquilizer?" she demanded. Xanatos reached for her shoulder and a tiny pin of a needle appeared in his hand. Demona growled in outrage and raised her arm to strike him, but it was too late, and she dropped the bottles to the ground as she fell against his shoulder.

"It IS best taken with water!" he exclaimed triumphantly, "This is great stuff, Owen! We must order some more of it!"

"Yes, sir," Owen replied, helping Xanatos to lift Demona by the shoulders.

"What are you doing to her?" Angela demanded.

"Oh, nothing to be worried about," Xanatos consoled her, "She's been having trouble sleeping, so we thought she could use a nap."

"Does Goliath know about this?"

"Of course," Xanatos replied, "Sort of." Angela growled in frustration.

"Now, now. Don't you worry. She's in good hands and this is all for her own good." Angela followed them from the prison cell to the main corridor, still feeling like she ought to protest, but she didn't really know what it was she would be protesting. Goliath trusted Xanatos to keep Demona behind bars and although the incident left her anxious, she decided it best not to intervene.