BA Season 4: 123 - The Long and Winding Road

by The Barracuda

Elisa finally has Trinity back in her arms but she's now been exposed to the world. As word spreads about the woman who has a half-gargoyle daughter, Elisa has to contend with lawyers and judges but is able to reunite with her clan and make some decisions about her future.

#123 - "The Long and Winding Road"

"Not everyone will understand your journey. That's okay. You're here to live your life, not to make everyone understand." - Banksy

Manhattan, Police headquarters, just a few minutes ago...

"Listen, until you're called for questioning or officially charged, you're free to go. But I guarantee you I just might be forced to bring you back in, you and Trinity both, especially when Margot Yale raises a stink." He opened his arms in a gesture of compromise. "Of course, if you want to stay, you can at least be here when the gargoyles awake."

Elisa's brows unclenched at the mere mention of the clan.

And Abel actually enjoyed seeing the scowl dissipate. "They're getting a little antsy and maybe seeing you will settle them." he added.

"What about Brooklyn? Can we see him?"

"I'll do my best." he offered. "Maybe right now, we should adjourn to somewhere more comfortable, and with coffee. Maybe have a little talk."

Elisa thought about it for a moment and eventually nodded, turning and allowing Diane to deliver Trinity back into her arms. They butted ridges, Elisa broke into a smile and allowed Abel to lead her from the room. Dominic Ford was waiting outside in the hall and straightened when he spotted Elisa.

"Come on, Dom," Abel called to his partner, "let's go find someplace comfortable for a while."

"Tuck your tail in, sweetie." Elisa told her daughter, "and cape your wings."

The little girl did so and disguised her more prominent gargoyle features before the group exited the little corridor, but on entering into the main lobby a crowd of people suddenly rushed her and Trinity.

Abel was almost shoved across a desk. "What the hell...?" He whirled on his partner, realizing who had nearly stampeded him to death. "Who let these idiots in?"

"I don't know...!" Dominic yelled back from across the throng.

Elisa had several microphones and digital recorders thrust in her face. She could hear the sounds of camera shutters going off.

"Detective Maza," one woman started, obviously a reporter, "are you married to a gargoyle? And is he the father of your child?"

"What is your involvement with the gargoyles in police custody?"

"Were you aware of the attack on the Guild base?"

"How long have you kept this a secret and to who?"

The questions were rattled off incessantly and she barely had time to digest, being blindsided. "No comment." Elisa said quickly, trying to maneuver Trinity away from the cameras. Trinity clutched to her mother and in her surprise let her wings spread open.

"Detective Maza, who's the father of your child? Detective Maza?"

"I said no comment." Elisa roared back as she and her parents forced their way through the crowd.

"Ford!" Abel barked, gesturing wildly to Dominic. "Get them out of here!" He caught up with Elisa and put a hand to her shoulder, guiding her, Peter and Diane out of the spotlight.

And in the background, no one noticed Martin Hacker smile, adjust his cap and slip out a door.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Manhattan, now, 8 a.m.

He had a strong hand on her shoulder, herding the woman and her family into the room and out of the spotlight. The jackals were hungry. The cameras didn't stop flashing until their target was well out of sight and even then the questions continued, picking apart every aspect of her personal life.

Abel Sykes whirled on his younger partner and a couple of uniforms who were there for the escort across the third floor bullpen. "Where the hell did those reporters come from?" he snarled. "I thought this place was locked down."

Dominic shrugged, shoving the door closed. "It is." he shot back, straightening the Windsor knot in his tie. "They might've paid someone off to get access."

Abel's brow almost collapsed in on itself it furrowed so hard. "If there's a leak in this building, I want to know." he said firmly. "But for right now, if I see one reporter here without my consent, I'm going to start abusing my bureau privilege and make people disappear."

His partner nodded and took the officers with him to clear the entire building of reporters if necessary. Once the door clicked closed, Abel locked it and turned on the occupants. Diane and Peter had taken a seat on the small couch while Elisa calmed Trinity, whispering to her in hushed tones.

"Detective, I'm sorry." Abel said quickly, trying to calm his breathing.

Elisa looked up and offered as strong a smile as she could manage. "It's okay."

"It's not okay."

She thought she'd be angry to the point of homicidal, the group of vultures having invaded her privacy to sell a headline but Elisa found herself merely resigned to the entire thing. "I suppose I should get used to that. Living my life in the spotlight."

He shook his head. "Detective, not only do you deserve your privacy but you should be able to reveal your life you way you intend."

"I didn't intend to reveal anything at all." She buried her face in Trinity's hair, pulled back and shared a smile with her daughter. Elisa used a few fingers to brush errant hairs away, the same hairs that always stubbornly fell in her face.

And Abel wasn't lost to the moment between mother and daughter.

She caught him staring. "Is there a problem, agent?" Elisa said defensively, maybe a little more caustic than she intended.

"Just...I'm sorry."

"It's okay." she spurred him on, gesturing with her free hand. "Get it out while you can."

"You two look exactly alike, down to the eyes." he explained.

Elisa turned at the same time her daughter did, mirror images of each other. "Genetics are a funny thing."

"I'm sure you speak from experience."

She thought back to that pregnancy test turning pink; it seemed like a lifetime ago. "You have no idea." Elisa whispered pensively.

He rubbed the stubble on his chin, and said under his breath, "I'm sure I don't."

Elisa did a circle around the room, Trinity still in her arms. She passed a comforting look to her parents and they settled into the small sofa. "So what happens now, agent?" Elisa asked, still surveying the small room, their refuge for the time being. "What's the FBI's stance on a New York detective marrying and conceiving a child with a gargoyle?"

He heaved up a bit of laughter and it trailed off when he realized how loud it was. "Truthfully? I have absolutely no idea. We're in uncharted territory..."

"Humor us." Peter said from the couch, leaning forward with his fingers entwined.

Abel sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "The only precedence would be marrying an illegal immigrant, harboring him and anyone else associated with him. Also, falsifying records about your husband and living situation. The gargoyles could be seen as vigilantes, criminals or even worse, wild, dangerous animals."

Elisa grimaced; the comparison had always rubbed her the wrong way. She'd seen this particular aspect of human nature throughout her entire career. "They're not, you know. Animals."

"Oh, I'm well aware." he nodded in agreement. "I've had a few conversations with your friends and despite almost having my head torn off by Othello–"

"What?" Elisa gasped, eyes wide.

Abel held his hands up, lifting his chin slightly to prove his neck bruises had already faded. A couple of days ago he could see the faint imprint of a big three-fingered hand underneath the stubble. "My fault. I might've insinuated a few things about keeping Trinity from them and he took umbrage to my bluff."

Elisa rolled her eyes and started shaking her head. "That big stubborn..."

"It's all right, we're all friends now."

She growled low, "That man needs to control his goddamned temper."

"Well, your daughter's certainly a sore spot." he admitted.

"He and I are going to have a long talk later..."

"My advice is to tread lightly."

But Elisa was never one to pussyfoot around, even if it was a seven foot plus wrecking machine. She shot the older agent a tilted glare. "I'm going to put a boot up his ass if he doesn't behave himself."

A mental image suddenly flared through his mind. "That," Abel croaked, "I'd pay to see."

Elisa couldn't help herself and smiled through muted laughter. She was loath to admit this man was inexplicably easy to talk to; she figured he'd used his superpowers to tug at threads and extract those tiny, insignificant details, painting a picture with morsels of truth until he arrived at an answer. And here she was falling for it. "Why are you doing this?" Elisa asked suddenly.

"What?"

"All this. Putting your head in the gallows for a bunch of monsters."

Little lines wormed through his forehead and Abel's shoulders slumped under his rumpled suit jacket. He seemed to prepare the answer in his head before voicing it. "I've often seen the unseen get trampled by the rest of the world. I didn't join the FBI for the glamour and fame. I figure what I do and why is similar to what you do and why."

"Protecting humans is one thing, but gargoyles?" Elisa pressed.

"Maybe I'm just in the habit of making monumentally bad career decisions, if only to appease to my conscience." He trailed off and thought about it. "It was the right thing to do, that's all..."

She started nodding, imperceptibly at first. "Principles are a bitch sometimes." Elisa said knowingly.

Their conversation ended with the door opening and both of them set their jaws for fear of letting anything juicy and damaging slip into the next room. Dominic slipped back inside and closed the door behind him with a soft but urgent click. "Reporters are cleared out, Abel." he announced. "Apparently they were let in by someone who made a few hundred bucks in cash. But they weren't very eager to reveal their meal ticket."

Elisa blinked, huffed and her head dropped, suddenly too heavy to support. "So that's what my privacy is worth, huh?"

Dominic's brows slanted from the middle out; he looked as sympathetic as possible. "I'm sorry, detective." he said. "I didn't think anyone here would've sold out a fellow cop."

No words, she just loosed a weak smile his way. She felt her baby girl shift in her arms and heard her whisper something and immediately all attention was centered on her firstborn. Those stray hairs were back again, her daughter's hair a riot of black silk threading through her little horns and Elisa tucked them back. She pulled her to her shoulder and started rocking the girl back and forth. The world around them faded away.

Abel saw the shift in tone in the room; detective Maza suddenly not in the mood to converse. "Well," he said brusquely, "Dominic, let's go and do our rounds. Maybe we can spook the uniforms into revealing something useful. I'll be back, detective."

Elisa just nodded her head.

Abel turned to Peter and Diane. "Mr. and Mrs. Maza." And within a few seconds, the agents had vacated.

Peter released a raspy breath and fell back into the couch; Diane followed and curled against him. "You okay, kiddo?"

Peering over Trinity's hair, she bobbed her eyebrows in response. Most of her face was hidden and her father figured it was on purpose. "That's a loaded question, dad."

"I'm sorry, Elisa."

She held up a hand and waved off the apology. "No, don't...don't do that. This was my decision to come here."

"We pushed you." Diane said forlornly.

"For all the right reasons." Elisa replied quickly and firmly, bolstering a smile for her mother's sake. There never was another option. "I had to come. And maybe, this was going to happen whether I wanted it to or not..."

"Mommy?" a little voice intruded on her self-pity.

"Yeah, sweetie?"

Trinity was angling to look down at Elisa's midsection. The question had been burning in her mind since seeing her mother. "Your tummy's small now."

A lopsided half-grin swelled; Elisa was impressed Trinity had stayed quiet about it for this long. "I had the baby, Trini." she whispered into her daughter's delicately pointed ear. "You have a new little sister."

Big eyes went impossibly bigger and Trinity leaned forward in her mother's arms; Elisa had to quickly and awkwardly shift position before the little girl did a half-gainer to the floor. "Yuh?!"

"Her name is Liberty."

"Libbity?" Trinity attempted.

Elisa smiled. "Or Libby for short."

"Libby...?"

"And guess what?" Elisa leaned in, grazing her lips across Trinity's cheek. "She's purple, like your daddy."

"Pu'ple?!" she squealed, little wings fluttering with her excitement. "Ca' I see her?"

"She's at home right now." Elisa explained, regretful she had to delay introducing her firstborn to her second.

"Ca' we go home?" Trinity asked hopefully.

"Soon, baby, we'll go home really soon I promise."

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

10 a.m.

It'd been a couple hours and Abel and his young partner had asked around most of the third floor and half the building but managed to find nothing about any possible leak. Those reporters just seemed to materialize out of nowhere. He told Dominic to keep snooping around while he returned to the room where he'd hid the Mazas.

Opening the door he noticed Elisa's parents were curled up on the little sofa asleep, with Trinity in Diane's lap, swaddled in a gossamer blanket of her own wings.

Elisa though was still awake, stooped like a vulture on a chair in front of the television, eyes affixed to the constant flood of news reports.

"...We can only speculate as to what consequences she'll face from the NYPD..."

Click.

"...She's a New York detective who's been lying for years. How can the public ever trust her again?..."

Click.

"...Hey, what people do in the privacy of their own bedrooms is their business..."

"Anything good?" Abel asked.

Click.

"...How can any woman, any human woman of good conscience ever have a relationship with a gargoyle? Especially a sexual one. It's disgusting..."

Hunched over with her chin in her palm, Elisa shook her head, leaned back and stretched the kinks out, feeling those divine little pops release along her spine. She used the remote control to shut the television off and stared at the black screen for a moment. "Well," she said quietly, "I've been called everything from a race traitor and a whore to a revolutionary and a fantastic mother."

"Fifty fifty split, not bad."

"Well, I'm not going to get into the whole bestiality thing..." Elisa sneered in disgust, hand clenching around the remote. "There're a few religious types already in a huff."

"There always is." he agreed quietly, hoping to dance lightly around that particular subject. "I figured you might be sleeping."

Something tumbled from her throat; choked laughter. It withered quickly. "Who can sleep at a time like this?"

"Touché." He handed her a cup of something, steaming through the little hole in the lid. "It's a good thing this is decaf."

Elisa turned and stared at the cup; it almost smelled like coffee. She took the warm paper cup into her hand. "Thanks."

"You are breastfeeding I'm assuming?"

Her eyes flicked up; the consummate investigator, Abel was watching her for a particular reaction. "Yes, agent, I am."

"Well, your family did say you were recently gone for maternity leave." he continued picking. "That wasn't stretching the truth?"

"No. I recently gave birth to my second daughter." Elisa revealed. "Literally less than forty-eight hours ago. And I'm hoping I won't lactate through my shirt. So please pass that along to the goons you sent to my family's homes."

He pursed his lips. "That wasn't me, detective. It was the prosecution trying to get a little dirt on you."

"Well, it's a smorgasbord now, isn't it..." Elisa shifted slightly; her stomach was a little raw and the bandages had yet to be changed.

Abel caught it. "You okay?"

She breathed through the dull ache before answering, "I suffered a uterine rupture, and needed surgery."

Abel was sympathetic, and impressed. Into the lion's den so quickly after major surgery, like she'd willed herself to heal faster. And he had to swallow every urge to ask a dozen questions about giving birth to a half-gargoyle infant. "Is she...like your first there?" He nodded to the girl sound asleep in her grandmother's lap.

"Pretty much, just a little more lavender than copper."

Lavender, like Angela downstairs he imagined. "So...that photo's real then?"

Her head lifted. "The one Yale showed me?" Elisa responded. "Yeah, it's real."

"Your husband."

Elisa just nodded.

And spurred by new juicy gossip, Abel grabbed a chair from the wall and straddled it, settling in with a withered grunt. He blew the steam from his coffee and took a sip, swallowing quickly as questions kept forming. "Mind if I ask about him?"

"Why?"

He didn't have an appropriate answer and simply shrugged. "Sheer curiosity." he offered genially. "Is his name really Goliath?"

"Yes." Elisa revealed.

"Aptly named."

Elisa had always thought the same, especially, with slightly blushed cheeks, when the two of them were intimate. But there was always an undertone to his name, stretching back a thousand years. "A long time ago he was named by humans who thought the old biblical tyrant was an appropriate fit for someone of his size and outward appearance." she explained.

"So it wasn't done out of love."

"It was a different time."

"Then what kind of man is he?"

She smiled; Elisa felt a warmth bloom in her chest just thinking about her husband. Just the memory of him was enough to buoy her. "Noble, gentle, honorable, intelligent, stubborn as all hell, I could go on for days about the kind of man he is but I'm afraid it would fall on deaf ears."

Abel flicked his earlobe. "Not these ears."

Elisa appreciated the support but it fell flat considering the circumstances. She tilted her head, causing a wave of black hairs to swing to one side. "No offense, agent," she said, "but I've heard your reputation is a little tenuous in the FBI."

"Touché. But I've so far managed to keep as many gargoyles as possible from being dragged into the legal system so I think I'm doing pretty good."

"Touché." she returned. "Thank you for that, by the way. Taking care of my clan."

Her clan, he thought to himself amusedly and shrugged. "I've seen firsthand their bravery and I couldn't do any less. They certainly speak highly of you, detective."

Her smile was genuine, if not tinged with something. "Yeah, and I always hope to live up to their praise."

"Do they make you better?" Abel asked.

"Yes." Elisa replied without pause.

"I think the same thing could be said of them. They seem to draw strength from you. From your daughter."

"Gargoyles are very communal beings," she explained, "from how they live to how they raise their young. They're stronger together."

"And missing any part of their family must be painful, including your...husband."

Elisa slowly turned her head towards the agent and Abel felt the weight of her dark eyes on him. His breathing shortened under her glare. As he wondered if he'd crossed an imaginary line, Elisa had to wonder just how much Abel knew of her relationship with Goliath.

He continued gingerly, "Your clan told me he was lost, just as you were."

"We were for a while." she whispered. "I came back, so did Trinity."

"And Goliath?"

She bristled at her husband's name on someone else's lips. She didn't like information leaking when it wasn't on her terms. "I don't know." she revealed, mouth suddenly dry. Just thinking of a life without Goliath wasn't something she was ready to face just yet. "We were separated and I lost him."

"How?"

She rubbed her temple. "Long story."

Abel opened his arms and turned his head a tick, a subtle indication they both had the time.

"Long complicated story." Elisa reiterated, her gaze steeled.

"Fair enough." he relented. "But just some advice, withholding information like that is bound to make you look a lot more guilty than innocent, especially when Internal Affairs comes calling."

Her mouth spread into an ambiguous smile; Elisa mused, if only this man could've lived her life. Bureaucrats had nothing on Demona. "Strangely enough, Internal Affairs is the last thing I'm worried about right now."

"Your career could end, detective."

Her gaze went distant, staring through the far wall, as if she was seeing into the future. "Maybe...just seems arbitrary compared to the safety of my family."

"Fair enough."

She relaxed back into her chair and took a sip of hot coffee. Elisa blanched as she swallowed, struggling to get the vending machine sludge down her gullet. "This is really bad." she winced.

"Yeah," Abel agreed, "it really is." He dug into his coat pocket, pulling out a handful of sugar packets and cream cups. "Cream?"

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

2 p.m.

She swirled the last bit of coffee in the cardboard cup, debating whether or not it was worth finishing the luke-warm sludge. Elisa shrugged, sighed and tipped the cup back at her mouth; it wasn't even caffeinated. She grimaced and tossed the empty cup into the trash can. "You'd figure with a budget as big as the entire NYPD's, they'd spring for a decent vending machine in their headquarters."

"Bureaucracy always rules, kiddo," Peter nodded behind a newspaper, "and it's ruled by the bean-counters."

"Yeah..." Elisa eyed the newspaper her father was reading, yesterday's edition. She figured every news agency in town was prepping for their next issue and she had a suspicion she might see herself on the front page.

Peter's eyes drifted over the top and he found his daughter staring. He folded the front page in and figured Elisa was already expecting a glut of newspapers with her life story on the cover. "Not yet, Elisa." he said.

"I know." She nodded wistfully. "Soon though...magazines, tell-all interviews, it's going to be a free-for-all."

"We'll weather the storm, kiddo. As a family."

Elisa wanted to believe him but she knew he was putting up the same brave front she was. This was also his worst nightmare come true.

He snapped the newspaper straight and folded it in half, letting it fall to his lap. "Yeah, I know. Brave front." Peter read her mind. "I'm trying too. We all are."

"Thanks, dad."

"You don't have to thank me, Elisa, I'm your father and I made you a promise. You go down in flames I'm coming along for the ride."

Her gratitude didn't need to be voiced; it glistened in the night sky black of her eyes.

Suddenly, the door to their private room rattled on its hinges under a heavy but seemingly polite knock. The door opened and where Elisa expected the ever present agent Sykes, Gabriel Logan appeared in his place. "My apologies, detective," he greeted her stiffly, one hand unconsciously rubbing the wrinkles from his double-breasted suit, "I hope we're not intruding."

And before Elisa could answer...

"I thought you might be keeping a nocturnal schedule," Margot was right on Logan's tail, oozing in through the door, "along with your family."

Elisa caught the undertone; this was Margot Yale being civil. "Usually," she replied, "but who can sleep at a time like this, eh Miss Yale?"

Before Margot could sneer and loose something a little less than genial, someone else slipped into the room. She had to open the door a little wider than the inches-wide crack to fit a mid-stage pregnancy and Stephanie Helms entered belly first. "Sorry, sorry." she rattled quickly, catching her breath. She'd darted across the 3rd floor from the ladies washroom and was hoping to get inside the room before Margot opened her big mouth. But judging from Elisa's expression the assistant D.A. had already spread her particular kind of charm.

Logan closed the door behind him. "We'd like to ask you some questions and figured this was as good a time as any."

"Why not?" Elisa opened her arms, like she was daring the universe to heap even more on top of her. "Your team has been harassing my entire family to get at me so let's get this over with."

The puffed lips and crooked neck proved Logan didn't quite agree with Elisa's assessment. "I apologize if the agents we sent to question your family were less than cordial, detective, but they were only doing their jobs. And under the circumstances," the one word he emphasized encompassed so much, "we needed to know who was involved."

"Of course."

He went to speak again but stopped mid-breath, turned and found Diane and Peter sitting on the couch with Trinity in Diane's lap. They'd settled into relaxed positions as if expecting a show. "Maybe we should talk in private."

But Elisa wouldn't have it. "I'm not letting my daughter out of my sight." she said firmly. "And anything you can say to me you can say to them."

"Besides," Peter piped up, "if you're accusing Elisa of simply knowing gargoyles, then we're guilty of the same crime, aren't we?"

Margot took umbrage. "It's just not simply knowing them, detective, and you're well aware of that."

Logan cleared his throat and took a seat, placing his briefcase on the coffee table. "Let's just get straight to the point." he started, popping the locks and pulling out a notepad. "What is your relationship with the gargoyles, detective?"

"Which ones?" Elisa said flippantly, knowing it would raise the hackles of one of the prosecution.

"All of them." Margot was kind enough to clarify.

Elisa slowly turned her head towards the blond woman seated beside Logan, her eyes narrowed down to the chocolate irises. "I think you already know my relationship. I married one."

"And is your...husband part of this group?"

"He was their leader."

"Was...?" Logan caught the past tense.

"He's missing...right now." Elisa revealed and couldn't disguise the grief lodged in her throat. "We were separated on our way home."

"From your maternity leave." Stephanie presumed, hoping to continue the false narrative.

Elisa nodded appreciatively.

But the entire account had never sat well with Margot and she kept digging. "From Nigeria." If the detective's ancestry wasn't actually partly Nigerian she would've called bullshit. "Of course."

"I'm sorry." Logan expressed his sympathy. "And the others?"

"They're part of his clan. His family."

"Including the one in custody?"

"Yes."

"And do you consider them your family?"

"...yes." she said at length, knowing she was slowly tying her own noose.

And Margot Yale's expression twisted into a mocking half-smile. "Funny, the red one in custody said he didn't know your little girl at all." she clucked. "Was he lying?"

Elisa bit her lip to prevent from screaming in a fit of rage; the realization she'd refuted Brooklyn's attempt to distance himself from Trinity to protect her hit her in the chest like a lightning bolt. Her only outward tell was to dig her fingernails into the palm of her hand. Knowing her audience was expecting an answer, Elisa turned it around. "You're saying it was wrong to lie to protect a child?"

But Margot didn't get to where she was now without knowing the subtle art of conversation. "He was wrong to lie at all." she replied. "Which serves to throw doubt in anything he says, truth or not."

"If the safety of a little girl was held over my head, I'd probably lie too."

Her answer was a scowl that could melt steel. Margot obviously didn't appreciate the barb thrown her way.

"There was no threat, detective." Logan cut in, before there was a repeat performance of their earlier discussion. The last thing he needed was a fistfight between these two and he'd hoped he wouldn't need an armed guard standing watch. "Only real consequences for his crimes."

Elisa turned her attention to Yale's partner, the well-dressed, well-coifed man who was continually forced to play good cop to Margot's bad cop. "His crime was protecting his family against an imminent threat." Elisa argued, hoping maybe this half of the dynamic duo would be a little more receptive. "One that was proven deadly to both human and gargoyle alike."

"But we have no evidence of any attack on your friends. Unless...?" Margot held out her hand, urging the detective to fill in the gaps.

She sighed, overlapping tired laughter. "Listen, miss Yale, I don't know what you expect from me. I've been gone for months." Elisa said wearily, adjusting to keep the pain in her stomach at bay. "I wasn't even in the country when all of this happened. I had no knowledge of the Guild attack except what I saw on TV. I came home to find my family in custody and my hometown with another wound thanks to a group of violent, xenophobic bastards."

"But you know the accused. Better than your daughter I assume."

"Yes," she nodded, "and that impacts me or this case how?"

An idea suddenly ringing in her head, Stephanie quickly chimed in. "A character witness, detective," she clarified, "and maybe you'll do better than your daughter. We can keep her out of court if we can find a suitable replacement."

Elisa knew what Stephanie was trying to do but she still didn't appreciate being tied so intimately to this case. "Fine. You want me to testify? I'll gladly tell the world about how my friend downstairs is one of the most honorable, principled and moral people I've ever met."

"Honorable men don't set bombs." Margot argued vehemently.

"Honorable men protect their families."

"Detective–"

"What if it was your family, mss Yale?" Elisa lobbed a hypothetical her way, one hoping the lawyer would choke on. "Your husband, your children. What if it your family was constantly under the threat of death and the only way to keep them safe was bringing the war to those who'd rather smash you while you sleep?"

Her head angled down slightly, lips knotting into a scarlet pucker.

Elisa turned her head slightly and dropped her chin pointedly. "I thought so."

"I'm not agreeing with you." Margot quickly insisted, finding her voice again. "That's the very definition of vigilantism. And the bodies we fished from the harbor illustrate a very different side to your heart-wrenching story."

"Miss Yale has a point, detective." Logan re-entered the conversation. His tone was steady, leg crossed over the other on the couch kiddie-corner to Elisa. "Without any evidence of this attack, all we have is a gargoyle who was caught beating a human and confessed to destroying an underground bunker full of people."

"Murderers–" Elisa spit but was cut off.

"Not all of them, unfortunately." he rebutted. "A lot of them were ordinary people who, yes, decided to take up a cause of destruction but were far from murderers. And that's our conundrum." He paused and looked up from his notepad. "That gargoyle in custody may be your friend but without context or evidence to why he did what he did, everything points to him as being a murderer himself."

"He's not. Gargoyles protect. That's their nature, that's their very reason for being. And I should know..."

"You married one, yes." Margot sighed, rolling her eyes. "Let's talk a little more about him, shall we?"

Elisa's head snapped back to Margot so quickly she almost popped a vertebra out of place. In the background Diane winced.

Despite the heated glare being sent her way, Margot continued unabated in her distinctive haughty tenor, "Your records indicate you live in an apartment at the Eyrie building, owned by David Xanatos." She stressed the name to further hammer her point. "And those same records indicate your husband does as well. Now ignoring for a moment the legal and ethical ramifications of a NYPD detective living in a former criminal's skyscraper–a criminal you helped put away mind you–I highly doubt your landlord wouldn't have noticed a giant gargoyle living under his own roof. Unless those records are forged..."

Before Elisa could answer, argue or swing a fist, turning the interview into a bar brawl, Stephanie turned to Margot and interrupted, "I'm sorry, what does her living situation have to do with this case?"

"If she wasn't married to a gargoyle, not much." Margot chided her counterpart, lingering glares sparking off each other. "But the fact her husband was the former leader of the gargoyle in custody is a question we need answers to."

"And does that answer have any relation to your case," Elisa asked, using a single hand to gesture in tandem, "or am I under suspicion of something else?"

"You mean harboring fugitives, aiding in their vigilantism, lying to your superiors or falsifying documents?"

Elisa did her level best to ignore the laundry list of what she'd done to keep her private life just that. "You didn't answer my question. Am I being questioned in relation to this case and only this case?"

"Yes." Logan said firmly, expressing something unreadable in a side-glance to Margot.

"Then I suggest you ask me only pertinent questions." Elisa told her. "Who I chose to share my home with is no one's business but my own."

Margot had a hundred more questions and she was sure she could make the detective squirm if given enough time but she acquiesced and decided to play by her partner's rules. There was time enough to root out all the lies eventually. "Fine." she huffed. "What exactly is your relationship to the gargoyle in custody?"

"Friend." she said. "Brother." she amended.

"And do you believe your friend is capable of what he's accused?"

"I believe he's capable of defending his family against the Guild, who have repeatedly threatened and attacked the people he loves, not to mention innocent humans, including several of my friends and colleagues at the twenty-third."

Margot crossed her arms and something undeniably eerie snuck onto pale, equine features. "Evidence of this would go a long way to helping your opinion of him."

"A lack of evidence seems to be a recurring theme," Elisa noted, "on both sides. And this is becoming a circular argument."

Her sneer going straight to the bone, Margot huffed, "It is indeed."

"Detective," Logan's deeper voice cut through the room like a knife, "are you stating on record you were not in New York at the time of the attacks, or had any prior knowledge?"

"I believe that's what she's been driving at for the entire conversation, Mr. Logan." Stephanie remarked, trying to look comfortable and professional on a lumpy sectional, her belly protruding too far for her liking.

"Yes, well," he mumbled, scrawling a few more notes on his pad, "we need to know. Detective Maza seems to be some sort of focal point for these gargoyles."

"Regardless," Stephanie tried running interference, "is there any evidence linking detective Maza to the Guild base attack? Or Times Square?"

"Nothing direct..." Margot admitted quietly.

Stephanie cupped a hand over her ear and playfully aimed it at Margot. "I'm sorry...?"

"Her association with the gargoyles is her link." Margot tried but found her argument was failing to land.

Sucking a breath in through her clenched teeth, Stephanie was enjoying seeing Margot Yale off-kilter. "Argumentum ad hominem. You know I could tear that argument apart in court with my eyes closed."

Irritation overrode experience and Margot's voice pitched up. "She's already committed several criminal acts because of those gargoyles and she could be doing the same now. She has no evidence to the contrary–"

"And neither do you." Stephanie barked at full tilt. "I'm sorry, Mr. Logan," she appealed to Margot's partner, "but this is really stretching. Despite what detective Maza has done to protect her family it has nothing to do with this case, does not fall into our purview and I'm sure Internal Affairs will deal with this more suitably than we can or should."

Spelled out so eloquently Logan had no choice but to agree, despite his partner currently fuming on the couch beside him; he nodded. He flipped his notepad closed with a flick of his wrist, subtly indicating he was finished. Margot's nostrils flared but even she had to admit there wasn't much to go on unless new evidence presented itself. His attention veered to Elisa. "I've been informed the judge has been chosen for this case and she's due to arrive tomorrow. You and your daughter will meet with us then and she'll decide whether your daughter's testimony is viable or not."

"Looking forward to it." Elisa sneered.

Margot shot up and immediately straightened as she charged for the exit. Logan collected his things and placed each one neatly in his briefcase before closing it and standing to leave, eventually following Margot out the door.

"That was pleasant..." Elisa sighed.

Having lingered behind, Stephanie looked between the exit and the detective rubbing her temples. A looming headache she figured, considering Margot Yale's effect on most people when in her path. "Sorry about that..."

"You don't have to apologize for Margot Yale..." Elisa said back, managing a lopsided grin. "But she does have a point. I don't know how many people are going to be willing to trust me after everything I've done comes to light."

"Good intentions, detective, is sometimes the best defense..."

"What are his chances, Mrs. Helms?" Elisa asked suddenly.

"Your friend?" Stephanie blew a few blond strands from her face and hooked a few fingers into the waist of her skirt. There was a moment where her answer wasn't so forthcoming until she constructed something built from the harsh truth. "First, I need to argue he's a sentient being with all the mental and emotional capacity of a human and second, why he did what he did." she explained. "But I don't have a lot of evidence to support that. He's literally confessed to planting those bombs, if only to keep the rest of his clan from suffering the same fate."

With a fervent shake of her head, Elisa knew what she proposed would be like grasping the wrong end of a knife. "That particular evidence would reveal where the gargoyles live, including Xanatos' involvement." she replied. "That's their last, safe haven."

"I know. But it might carry more weight for his defense than I could ever provide and Jon Canmore has already been telling everyone who'll listen where the clan lives. Plus your apartment," she made air-quotes, "in the Eyrie is also a big, fat red flag."

"I know, I know, but I need to stem the damage. I can't just out everyone I know..."

Stephanie pulled her lips together and opened her arms. "It might cost Brooklyn's freedom."

Elisa rubbed her hands down her face. "Hell of a choice."

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

4:30 p.m.

The dream was a black haze, Elisa not quite asleep but neither awake as well.

She could hear the laughter of children all around her, but couldn't see them. It was hide and seek, Trinity's voice leading her on into the darkness. She followed the giggling but couldn't seem to catch up, and then stumbled on something unseen. She tripped and almost fell until someone caught her; great lavender wings enfolded her and she was at peace.

"...Elisa..."

Her name was a whisper over the sensitive flesh of her nape and Elisa coiled in his arms to face her lover. But her expression curdled and quickly turned to revulsion on seeing him.

He was a wall of seeping red, blood dripping from wing stumps, his mouth, his nose, even his eyes. As he opened his mouth wider to speak, it poured out like a waterfall. "ELISA!"

She screamed. "Goliath...!"

"Elisa!"

The haze lifted like a curtain and Elisa's eyes shot open. She bolted upright, blinking at the overhead fluorescents and the blurry figure standing over her. For a moment panic overrode her senses and it was only her mother's firm hands on her shoulders that kept her from jumping from the couch. "M-Mom...?"

"Elisa, it's all right!" Diane gave her a reassuring shake.

As her brain registered the heavy dose of reality, she willed the creeping sense of dread away and breathed. "Oh god..."

"You were speaking in your sleep..." her mother said serenely. "And then you started yelling."

Fingertips treaded lightly across her brow. "Yeah...bad dream."

"About Goliath?"

She didn't answer. The imagery was gruesome and still clung to her.

"How do you feel?" Diane tried.

She climbed up to a sitting position, grimacing as she did so. "I've got a pain in my gut that could kill a quarterback," Elisa muttered, "my boobs are sore, I'm separated from my baby and I've got Margot Yale gunning for my head."

Her mother offered a hand, a couple of pain pills in her palm. "Kept a few in my coat pocket, just in case."

She stared at the little pills with a plaintive smile.

"Had a few babies of my own, Elisa." Diane quipped. "I've been there."

Elisa plucked the pills from her mother's hand and gulped them down with an offered glass of water. "Thanks."

"We should really check your bandages too."

She shifted; the dressings around her stomach were almost a day old. "Yeah." The cadence of tiny steps drew Elisa's attention to Trinity, her daughter rushing towards her, wings bending back like the sails of a schooner catching the wind.

The little girl put her paws on Elisa's knee, concern on her cherub face. "Mommy...?"

Elisa knew she could feel her distress. It wasn't hard to force a smile when looking into the mirror of her firstborn's features and Elisa patted the couch cushion beside her. "It's okay, sweetie. C'mon, hop up. I'd lift you but mommy's stomach is a red hot mess."

Little talons hooked into the upholstery and Trinity scaled the couch like an expert mountaineer, climbing up towards her mother.

"Here," she said, "help mommy change her bandages."

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

7 p.m.

Redressed, Elisa was almost feeling human. And the Chinese takeout bought on the government's dime put something else in her stomach besides the raw pain of a difficult childbirth.

Agent Sykes had brought them dinner and the group was appreciative, having lived on commissary sandwiches and vending machine snacks for the better part of a day.

Her daughter had wolfed down the noodle dish including, much to Elisa's surprise, most of the vegetables. All except the steamed cucumber. She cleared her throat, pointed a finger at the green-and-chartreuse slices and Trinity balked, shaking her head in disgust; she smiled, tossing her daughter a fortune cookie. "I'll let it go this time."

Unwrapping the little cookie, Trinity made a face, her little tongue-tip poking out between her fangs. "But they're yucky."

"They're good for you." Elisa admonished her. "Helps build strong wings."

Diane looked up from her own meal. "Do they?"

Elisa whispered through a hand cupped to the side of her mouth, "I have no idea but don't let her know that."

With a cluck of her tongue, Diane winked at her daughter and watched the little girl split the fortune cookie in two and pull out the slip of paper. Trinity glanced at the tiny printing, screwed her brows in her attempt to read it but quickly gave up and shoved one half of the cookie in her mouth.

"That was your magic fortune, kiddo." Peter told her, balancing a bit of ginger beef on his chopsticks. "It told your future."

"But it was in my cookie..." Trinity shrugged, chewing through the other half.

He laughed off the innocence and swallowed the chunk of beef.

"I think her future includes more reading lessons." Elisa told her father.

"How's she doing?" Peter asked.

Elisa put her plate down and looked at her daughter. "Picking up the basics. But I guess we need to start thinking about home schooling soon, maybe private tutors. I sure as hell can't teach her math."

"You were pretty terrible."

Whatever rebuttal Elisa was about to voice towards her father was lost to a gentle knock on their door.

Abel walked in and found the Maza family ensconced in a perfectly abnormal family meal. He hated to break up a moment of peace but he had bad news that needed delivering. "Detective, I hate to interrupt your meal but we need to talk."

Elisa didn't like the dour expression. "Sounds ominous."

He composed himself for a moment before speaking. This was going to go down as smoothly as castor oil. "I've just heard through a few sources that Captain Maria Chavez from your precinct has been suspended."

Elisa reared up with wide eyes, jaw slack. "What?"

"It happened a few hours ago. I'm sorry."

She continued staring in horror until she couldn't keep her eyes open under eyelids that felt like ten ton weights. Her head fell forward and she tried to massage the looming headache away. "Damnit..."

Peter cupped his mouth while Diane looked away and the room went silent. It'd been less than a day and already the damage was spreading.

Elisa stood up and, with a sudden abundance of restless energy that needed to be channeled, stalked the room like a caged animal until getting too close to a vase of flowers on the small end table. She backhanded the vase and sent it against the wall, shattering. "DAMNIT!" Silk flowers tumbled to the floor with the plastic shards. The sharp pain in her knuckles cut through the red haze and she stood over her handiwork.

Her father sucked in a breath, sympathizing for both her anger and her pain. Diane put a hand on Trinity's back between her wings, soothing the girl as she watched her mother destroy city property.

Figuring he'd need a dustpan, Abel raised his gaze from the pile of debris to watch as Elisa controlled her breathing. "Better?"

"No." she said quietly. She wrung her knuckles into the palm of her other hand, massaging the pain away. "Could use another vase to smash..."

"She was a friend, I assume? More than just your captain?"

"Yeah...a good friend, who knew how to keep secrets." Elisa implied, and Abel picked up on it. "And now she's paying for it."

He nodded curtly. "The good ones always do."

"I should call her...I should speak to her..."

Abel was already shaking his head; he knew the guilt that would come of this. "Maybe you shouldn't...it might dig the hole she's in even deeper if you two are talking..."

"I can't just let her lose her job over this!" Elisa shot back.

"She hasn't lost anything yet and right now, there's nothing you can say to anyone that'll change what happened." He rubbed a hand to the back of his neck, relieving a few kinks. "This is all just a formality. She'll be called in front of Internal Affairs soon."

"Because of me."

"No, because of politics and bureaucracy." he argued. "Captain Chavez was a visible scapegoat and she was quickly made an example of."

Elisa was shaking her head. "She still be punished or demoted if not outright fired."

"Maybe, maybe not."

She sighed and rubbed her stomach, trying to keep her new bandages clean. "You need to work on your pep-talks, agent."

He stretched out his mouth, wringing his jaw in a rubber-faced expression of contrition. "I know..." he admitted. "Listen, it's getting close to sunset and your other family will be awakening soon. If you still want to see them..."

Elisa stared right through him. "You know I do."

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Near sunset.

"What am I going to say to her, dad? What can I say? Sorry for ending your career?"

Peter shook his head. "Maria did what she thought was right. She could've easily disavowed everything and kept her distance."

Sitting alongside him with her elbows on her knees, her face was almost completely obscured by the raven hair falling on either side. "But she didn't, because I didn't give her much of a choice."

"You didn't force her to do anything." he told her pointedly, rubbing a hand across her back. "The people you've let into your life made their choice and made it with a clear conscience. And they would make it again in an instant."

"Tell that to the baby she lost..."

"Elisa..."

"It was my fault–"

"No." Peter snapped, and pulled her into a sitting position so they could lock eyes. "The Guild took her baby from her. Not you. They attacked the police station, and they tried to kill anyone with even a remote connection to the gargoyles. This would've happened whether Maria knew or not."

His daughter's brows clenched and he could see the guilt etched into auburn skin; he knew she was stubbornly intent to carry it all as some kind of self-imposed penance.

"Don't ever think that you had anything to do with this." he concluded with a measured tone.

She swallowed. "Dad, I..."

"Listen," Peter whispered, brushing a bit of hair from her face, "it's almost sundown. Go see your family."

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Sunset.

She wasn't happy about the armed guards outside the door, but at least the clan was afforded a room and not a jail cell.

Abel had led Elisa down a nondescript corridor that somehow blended into the rest of the third floor; she figured as plain as humanly possible was a great way to detract from anyone getting too nosy. But the cops in riot gear with semi-automatic weapons were a dead giveaway to what lay behind the door.

Abel nodded to them. "Gentlemen."

"Agent Sykes."

"We're going in for a visit."

They shared a glance. The man closest to the door fished a key from his armor, unlocked the door and ignoring Elisa's sudden sneer, opened the door into the room. Abel led Elisa inside.

"Locked door?" Elisa said wincingly.

"It's for people trying to get in," Abel hastily explained, "not for gargoyles trying to get out. And considering we've already had a group of reporters make you front page news I figured better safe than sorry."

Whatever rebuttal Elisa had was lost to the dichotic sight of statuary in what looked like a doctor's waiting room. Eight statues all in varying states of repose and savagery, seven stone and one a satin, ginger steel; it seemed strange to see them confined to an office room, no battlements beneath or stars above. She waded through the sleeping gargoyles as if she needed to refresh her memory.

Abel though saw something different; she seemed almost possessive of the statues. The detective's slender hand would often reach out and caress a wing as she passed or graze a brow spur, Elisa doing circles around the sleeping clan. "Safe and sound, detective." he assured her.

"Yeah, just trapped in a windowless room," she sniped, "and under heavy guard."

"Have to keep up the pretense."

She appeared from behind Othello's extended wing. From her peripheral vision she could see the frozen, open-mouthed snarl he'd met the day with. "So when can they be released?"

Abel's eyes creased. The genial demeanor was swallowed by responsibility. "Not yet."

"I think your mandated time to hold a suspect has expired, agent."

"Maybe for the NYPD, not the FBI. I get to bend the rules a little further than you do." He quickly saw the flash of something in her milk chocolate eyes and quickly doused the fire. "I'm doing this for their benefit."

"Oh, really?" Elisa replied snappily.

"And what do you think will happen if I let them go, detective?" he proffered. "I'm seen as a sympathizer, which damages my authority in the eyes of my superiors and our friends the lawyers." He pointed a finger at the wall, and behind the drywall, studs and brick facade, a large crowd of humans surrounding the building. "Not to mention all of our friends outside. This place is a powder keg. I'm trying to keep the wick from sparking."

"Have they officially been cleared of any charges?"

"We made a deal with Brooklyn. They would be spared if he alone took the fall."

"Then they're free." Elisa finished logically.

He held a hand up and the woman across from him reacted as if he'd thrown fire from his palm. "You and I both know it's never that black and white, detective. That deal is very tenuous, made at the absolute limits of my authority."

Something in her chest was thumping at her ribcage, the sound a drumming in her ears. The affable agent had suddenly become a roadblock. "But you have your scapegoat." Elisa argued. "Brooklyn's willing to go to prison for this."

"I'm trying to straddle a fine line, I'm sure you can appreciate it."

"Not when my friends are prisoners for no justifiable reason."

He rubbed his brow and figured he'd just add to the circular argument if he continued. "Detective...Elisa, please understand I'm doing this for them. If I just let them go, all hell will break loose, both inside and out."

"Then maybe, agent Sykes," Elisa said, "you're not the savior I thought you were."

He swallowed and nodded, the muscles in his jaw flexing until he heard a little pop. "I'm not here to be a savior." he ground out.

"No, just another cog in the machine." she muttered. "Isn't that what Margot called you?"

Abel wasn't going to let himself be goaded. "Misshapen, yes, I remember."

"Seems you're not so different from the others after all." Elisa whispered disappointedly.

He couldn't tell if this was frayed emotion being laid bare from the lack of sleep or having her private life gruesomely exposed to the world, or the detective was turning his own game on himself. He suddenly clapped his hands, the snap of flesh on flesh like a crack of thunder. "Nice try."

Elisa simply turned her upper lip.

"Listen and listen good, detective, I have nothing but good intentions here, I promise you. I'm being forced to weigh options that have repercussions I can't even fathom, especially when it comes to them," he swiveled and laid a heavy gaze on her, "and to you."

"Agent..."

"And to your daughter." he finished, and Elisa's argument was lost to the ether.

She snorted and wrung her hands before releasing the next cool breath.

"I can't imagine how you feel, Elisa–"

"You're damned right you can't." she growled.

Abel resisted the urge to backstep and he figured it was a trick of the light that made her eyes spark. "But I can empathize." he finished softly. "I know seeing them caged and under guard must be incredibly hard for you."

"They're my family." The room echoed with her voice; if there were windows the glass would've rattled in their panes. "And they deserve to be freed. And if you can't uphold the oath you took then maybe you should absolve yourself of this case right now."

Abel screwed his face and simply stared the detective down. This had to be the only woman alive capable of taming that massive gargoyle from the photograph. "Is that what you really want?"

"I want my family to go home."

"So do I." he said earnestly. "And hopefully soon. But you have to trust me."

Swallowing the anger rising like bile in her throat, Elisa allowed a moment for composure. The fire gone to embers and her voice settled, she said levelly, "I once heard someone say that trust wasn't something to be bartered with."

"Smart someone."

"My husband." she revealed and tilted her head back up to meet his eyes.

Abel smiled and his desire to meet this particular gargoyle increased tenfold. Just to converse for an hour; he figured he could cover every subject from philosophy to human nature. "It's almost sunset, your family's going to wake up soon. I'll give you a bit of privacy."

Elisa just nodded and Sykes backed from the room. She let something loose from her chest and it painfully shuddered out; she figured the agent didn't quite deserve the hostility but the lack of sleep, the medication and the fact her life was slowly unraveling, it all tended to make one's patience run dangerously thin. But she knew the nebulous in-between on holding witnesses and suspects beyond the designated time; it bordered on illegal.

Despite the lack of windows even Elisa had become attuned to the passage of day and knew it was almost time. Like a faint electrical charge in the room, something she could feel against the palms of her hands.

The first crack split the membrane of Othello's outspread wing and more followed. The stone splintered and crumbled as the clan awakened with a cacophony of screams. The clever sister's metal covering didn't explode, just transmuted to flesh as she roared red-eyed to life.

Like reacting to a slap to the face, Angela reared up and shook her head; she was the first to catch the scent and turned to the source, standing just a few feet away, watching and smirking. She and Elisa locked eyes before the gargoyle's lean face split wide into a smile. "Elisa...Elisa!"

Still shaking off stone skin and the heavy fog of sleep, everyone else whirled on their feet at the scream of joy, seeing Angela dart towards the familiar human.

Elisa opened her arms and braced for the impact; Angela caught her in a bear hug and almost lifted the woman from her boots. Her midsection protested but she ignored the raw streak of pain for the simple pleasure of holding her friend again. Knowing she'd been miraculously brought back to life lent something more to their embrace; if only she could tell Goliath his daughter is alive. "Angela."

"Elisa." Angela in turn said her name as an affirmation, like a spell to keep her beloved friend from vanishing again. "You're home!"

Delilah was next, scrambling over the couch like an Olympic hurdler and throwing her arms around both of them with abandon. Elisa was sandwiched in between wing sails and heartfelt welcomes until rescued by Desdemona, practically yanked into the caramel gargoyle's arms. Katana's greeting was a little more reserved as expected but she couldn't quite disguise the lopsided grin. Using the padded arm of the couch, Lexington hopped up to Elisa's height and stole the next hug. Lingering to the side, Othello allowed the others their indulgence until Elisa turned to him, held out her arms and was intent to wait until the obstinate warrior reciprocated. Elisa embraced him and as soon as they uncoupled, she swiped at his shoulder with a small, loaded fist, seeing Othello jerk in surprise.

"That's for almost killing the man who kept you safe, you big stubborn idiot."

"Hrmm..." he muttered sheepishly, his neck sinking into broad shoulders. "He threatened our hatchling."

Her index finger close enough to snag one of his nostrils, Elisa brandished it like a firearm. "No he didn't. Control yourself." she warned playfully.

Othello nodded. "Yes, sister."

Having danced around at their feet, barking and howling as loudly as his lungs would allow, Bronx was rewarded with Elisa's undivided attention. "I wouldn't forget about you, Bronx..." she whispered.

The clever sister was the last to approach, unsure at how Goliath's human mate would react to her considering the tension between them before Elisa disappeared. But as Elisa sated Bronx with a chin scratch she turned to see the pumpkin-skinned gargoyle and reached out to her. They clasped hands and Elisa pulled her into a hug.

"It's good to see you." Elisa said after releasing.

Her spiral horns bobbed as she nodded. "And you, sister. I'm glad you're finally home."

"Elisa," Angela was quick to ask, the same question on everyone's mind, "is Goliath with you?"

Elisa's features wilted, the stoicism all but obliterated. "No...he's still out there somewhere..."

Angela closed her eyes, head dropping. It wasn't the news she was hoping for but at least Elisa had returned. Upon opening, her gaze automatically centered on Elisa's abdomen and she mentally kicked herself for not noticing before. Her wings splayed. Everyone else seemed to have the same thought at the same time but Angela voiced it first, "You've given birth...?"

Elisa quickly rubbed the flatter belly. "Yeah."

"Elisa, your baby...?"

She leaned in. "Liberty's safe at home."

Smiles flashed between the clan at the revelation, Angela's the biggest by far. Images of what the girl looked like sparked the collective imagination of the group.

"Liberty?" Delilah echoed, her brows shooting into her hairline.

"Liberty Dominique Maza." Elisa said, and noticed Angela's reaction, as well as the rest of the clan's. Elisa figured she should explain, considering their history. "Your mother saved me again, and my daughter."

"The phoenix gate." Katana mused darkly.

"Was killing me." Elisa finished, and she swore her belly wound flared up at the mere memory. "Killing my baby before she even had the chance to be born. Demona saved our lives."

"And where's my mother now?" Angela implored, face a mask of worry.

"In the wind." Elisa shrugged apologetically. "She seemed frightened, like something was coming for her. And I think I know who."

The young female stiffened at the implication. Angela only knew of a few beings, whether human or not, that could make her mother's blood run cold.

"Who...?" Othello bristled; though he had his suspicions, he wanted Elisa to say it aloud.

"The Goliath that arrived at Wyvern just after I left. The wrong version."

"The one who'd promised to kill her." Angela whispered, dread running the length of her long spine.

"The same." she nodded. "Of course, he was a little busy tearing up part of the city with Sobek."

Othello sneered and his neck seemed to swell. A white spark of something rimmed his deep-set eyes, making odd shadows against the rest of his long face. "That psychotic?"

"Apparently, he's had Xanatos in his palm for months now, considering he's the one who poisoned Fox. And now he's after some kind of special stones and Infiniti."

"That doesn't sound like a good combination." Lexington said.

"It never is, Lex..." she volleyed back. "What's that old saying, when it rains...?"

He caught the crackle in her voice, like a malfunctioning speaker with too much static; she was obviously holding back. "What's wrong, Elisa? There's something else–"

A small, perfectly human hand went up and stopped his question dead cold. "It's...nothing for you to be concerned about right now."

"What is it?" Angela pressed. "Elisa, please..."

It seemed almost trivial compared to the precursor to World War Three happening somewhere out in Manhattan. She sighed and figured who else could she spill her guts to but her family. "My secret's out, Angela." Elisa revealed quietly.

Her heart sunk as her brows rose. "What?"

She wrapped her arms around herself, mindful of her healing midsection. "I was forced to come get Trinity and now all the lawyers involved in Brooklyn's trial know, not to mention a group of reporters who got a really good shot of the two of us."

"Surely they can't–"

"It's been all over the news. All day, every station. I also had a nice conversation with our friends the lawyers. They were interviewing Trinity when I found her."

Features darkened through the small group; Angela opened her mouth but couldn't form the words between measured doses of sympathy and anger. "Elisa..." she tried helplessly.

Elisa held up a hand again, and again it hushed the room; she smiled a defeated but resigned smile. "It's okay." she said softly, the same hand dropping like a dead weight to her side. "I figured this might happen one day. I've skirted that line so many times."

Desdemona edged forward, flattening a hand over Elisa's shoulder. "My sister, the danger to you is immeasurable."

"What?" She cocked her head towards the gargoyle. "More than Demona or the Quarreymen? The Pack, the Guild, Sobek, the list is already a few pages long. What's a few billion more humans?"

Her brows knit; she breathed to prepare an answer but found herself helplessly mute. Her fingers squeezed affectionately and she simply nodded. "Whatever comes," she managed, "we will face it with you."

"I know, but this particular problem is a very human one. My career, my private life, I doubt you can save my job, Des, considering what I've already done. I don't think even an impassioned speech from a gargoyle could spare me the wrath of Internal Affairs or worse, the tabloids."

"I could try..." she offered.

And Elisa appreciated her attempt at humor. "One crisis at a time."

Someone snorted in the background, deep and heavy like a fighting bull seeing the red flag. "We aren't much help at all, imprisoned here." Othello sneered, shaking out his massive wings.

She could feel his palpable frustration, and see it crossing through his musculature. "Agent Sykes believes he's protecting you by keeping you here." Elisa explained.

"Do you believe him?"

She offered raised arms as an answer, winced and let them drop. "I don't know." she revealed, the truth a bitter taste in the back of her mouth. "But I think he's stuck in the middle of an impossible choice, just like I was a long time ago. If it makes you feel any better, Othello, I gave him shit for it not ten minutes ago."

The big, dusty-blue gargoyle raised his chin and showed teeth with his smile. "It does. Thank you, sister."

"Any time."

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Midnight.

She didn't think she would've found a slice of domestic bliss in the middle of a police station but here she was, watching her firstborn playing with her big sister Delilah and her parents talking lightheartedly with Othello and Desdemona. It was as if nothing was wrong outside the drab, government-issue walls and if it was only for a few hours, Elisa would cling to it as best she could before reality came crashing through the door like a tidal wave.

Tales were traded and details filled in, and as much as Elisa could distract herself from everything that was happening with friends and family, it would periodically flash to the forefront of her thoughts. Especially whenever something incredibly good was discussed, like Annika's pregnancy, conflicted with everything they'd suffered the last few months, the Guild attacks, Matrix, the FBI investigation at the castle.

She and Angela sat on the couch, and of course the young gargoyle was needling her for every detail about her new sister; especially after learning they shared a similar skin color. The color of her hair, her eyes and even how many toes her second-born had, Angela and the others were ravenous for the particulars. Elisa happily told the tale of Liberty's birth and the pain and the screaming and how she'd left a scorch-mark in the middle of the Ishimuran temple.

And Angela was reminded of a few Halloweens ago when Trinity rolled into the world with similar screams.

The clever sister made a casual remark about the last clutch of eggs laid at Wyvern and how the noise that night rivaled anything she'd ever heard. Desdemona reluctantly agreed, knowing she'd been a part of the racket that night.

They covered the gang war, Shadow's disappearance, Todd Hawkins' family issues, Isis, Jason Canmore and his new position, and of course the conversation would steer to Goliath several times, and each time Elisa noticed the hitch in Angela's voice. The way she was pained to even speak about him or danced around certain facets sent her cop instincts into overdrive. It was more than just missing his presence. "Angela..." Elisa stopped the conversation.

"Yes?"

"I know we all miss Goliath but the way you talk about him lends me to ask a question." She had the same expression on when in that little interrogation room at the twenty-third. Her voice was coiled steel. "What do you know?"

Her shoulders heaved and Angela stared through Elisa's soul with eyes like her husband. "We know Goliath was hurt. Badly. We know his wings are..." She didn't–or couldn't–continue; there wasn't a word in the English language that could even describe or relatively encompass the injury her father had suffered. "What we saw was horrible."

Elisa did a double-take. "You saw him...?"

"Whatever little time-traveling adventure you guys had," Lexington shrugged, "Goliath appeared in the courtyard for a moment before vanishing."

Her eyes went down, her mind reeling. It was a messy little quest Goliath had undertaken in New Cairo a couple thousand years from now, to stop a madman and his machinations that threatened the settlement. When Goliath had returned from it and collapsed in front of her stomach, placing one great hand to the swell of flesh and the baby within, Elisa was confused. His tale related to her later involved him traveling between several points in time with his future, teenage daughters. He'd managed to stop Kessik but not without Trinity and Liberty being obliterated from a broken timeline and for one painful, fleeting moment, wound up in present day Wyvern before being wrenched back to the future.

"The security cameras only caught a glimpse of him...but without his wings..." Angela finished.

And Elisa shuddered, knowing how painful that ghostly image could've been without anything more as explanation. Just a tease of something so painful and then snatched away, it would've driven Elisa mad with grief. "Goliath survived but not without his share of injuries," she said, her voice dull and distant, "...including his wings."

Angela had hoped the images she saw were false, distortions of technology or magic or something else. But Elisa had confirmed it and her heart wrenched with grief. A sound of something leaked out and she shored up, making sure nothing else escaped.

"It was Sobek." Elisa spit the name and a waltz of images welled up from that night, including the crisp, acrid scent of rain and blood. "He and Goliath tore each other apart...literally."

"And then you were both taken by the phoenix gate." Lexington concluded. "How is he dealing with...you know...?"

She knew Goliath had put up a front in the last seven months, a thick stone wall much like Wyvern's, and only in their most intimate, private moments together did he ever come to terms with his injury. "He's doing okay otherwise." she managed a half-truth. "It's difficult for him to watch as others teach his daughter how to glide and the fact he doesn't yet know you're alive...it's been hard."

Angela nodded. "I'm sure..."

"Maybe we can fix him..." Lexington whispered, seeing his own cybernetic parts flexing through the olive skin. "Or magic, or something..."

The desperation in his voice was palpable. Elisa exhaled through her nostrils, if it was easy enough to restore lost body parts with a snap of fingers or a twitch of the nose then Jason Canmore would be walking right now. "I don't know, Lex...this isn't like healing a hangnail."

His shoulders dropped, making his wings dangle limply from his arms like a kite without wind, his one abdomen wing-strut curling in tandem. "Yeah..."

"Lex," Elisa tried to pacify him, and in honest reflection, herself, "let's not worry about that right now. I just want him to come home..."

"And what happens when he does come home? Will he be reinstated as leader?"

"I..." Elisa stuttered; she hadn't thought that far.

"Goliath can either challenge him," Othello explained tersely from where he was standing, "or Brooklyn can step down."

Elisa sighed audibly. "I don't think I could make through another clan vote. The last one was hard enough..."

Silence permeated the room; the vote so many months ago that literally split the clan down the middle was still an open wound and the topic had been skirted around so many times like it would cause third degree burns.

"Sounds like you all agree." Elisa pondered out loud. "I hope never to be put in that position again."

"Nor do any of us." Desdemona said softly. "We should never have been divided."

Feeling the eyes of everyone in the room on her Elisa unconsciously stiffened, sitting up a few inches taller. "No we shouldn't have but here we are." she said imperiously, reciting as if she was expected to make a speech. She had always been aware that being the leader's mate put her in a hierarchy all her own. "And if and when Goliath returns I think he and Brooklyn are going to need to have a little conversation about who is best to lead this clan."

"They didn't part on good terms..." Lexington stated quietly.

"Well, if I have to lock them in a room together to get them to talk then..." Elisa trailed off, knowing that might be hard under the present circumstances.

"Elisa...?"

"Yeah, Lex?"

"Have you talked to Brooklyn at all?"

She gave the small, hunched, olive-green gargoyle an ambiguous look. He was tilting his head at her, presumably expecting an answer.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

"Are you sure?"

"I am."

"You talking with him could look bad for both of you."

"Oh," Elisa smiled, and had a wealth of history to earn that smile, "we're way past that point now, agent."

Abel seemed to grow a couple inches as he breathed in and then shrunk again when he exhaled. "Okay."

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

2 a.m.

Elisa was escorted to the building's cellblock, in one of the lower levels. Despite the public's outcry and the NYPD's hesitance, the FBI had elected to keep both Brooklyn and Jon Canmore here while the case was sorted out, giving the legal teams quick and easy access. A pair of armored SWAT members greeted the two as they exited the elevator doors and strolled through thick concrete corridors like they were walking through a fallout shelter.

The officer led her through a few halls, allowed her access through the security door and down the small jail's corridor to the last cell. Separate from the rest with concrete walls instead of steel bars, it was meant for the most dangerous occupants. And Elisa figured they thought a gargoyle fit the bill. Abel had already warned her security was tight; her friend was shackled with something a little thicker than standard handcuffs.

The officer stopped at a steel door, a faded sun yellow with chipping paint near the bottom. There was only a window and a meal slot to mar the slab of steel. "You sure about this?"

"He won't hurt me. He wouldn't hurt anyone."

The cop pulled his mouth closer to his nose and grumbled something unintelligible before pulling out his baton and rapping a few times on the door's security-wired glass window. "Hey."

The occupant stirred, barely.

"You have a visitor."

The brick red gargoyle pulled his gaze from the floor. "More lawyers?"

"No," the cop shook his head, "apparently you've got a friend."

"Really." Brooklyn muttered deadpan. "Color me intrigued."

The door shuddered as the deadbolts were slid from the strike with a heavy thunk and it squealed open. The uniform turned to Elisa and ushered her through with an open hand. "You need anything, just scream. If he does anything," he raised his voice pointedly, knowing it would filter through the open door, "he'll get put down by fifty-thousand volts."

Elisa saw the man brush his holstered taser and waved him off. "There's not going to be a problem."

"If you insist."

She sauntered past and into the cell. Hearing the door close and lock behind her, she found Brooklyn hunched on his bunk. He raised his head and they locked eyes.

Something in his brain overrode his judgment and forced the muscles in his legs to stand; there was no way he was going to feign ignorance of the woman who just walked into his cell. She looked so much like she did before she vanished into phoenix flames he thought she was a mirage; like there was a carbon monoxide leak and he was hallucinating.

"Hey." Elisa said simply and proved herself real.

He hesitated before managing in a quiet voice, "Hey yourself, timedancer."

She actually laughed out loud and moved to hug her friend, mindful of the heavy shackles.

Brooklyn could only lean into her embrace and tuck his head against her neck, feeling her arms tighten around him. "You have no idea how good it is to see you."

"Same..." Elisa mumbled into the length of white hair.

"Good to see you're not forty years older..."

"Only feels that way."

"You have no idea." Brooklyn said knowingly. "Is Goliath with you?"

Elisa pulled back; the smile was forced this time. Her hands tensed on his shoulders. "No. We were all separated..."

The skin around his eyes creased, like little perfect origami folds. "I was separated from Katana but I found my way back to her." he told her with no uncertainty. "He will too."

His reassurance put a warmth in her chest she desperately needed.

"I take it...you came for Trinity." he guessed.

"Yeah."

He was putting the pieces together in his head and the end result wasn't a pleasant thought. "And how many people know?"

The last twenty-four hours flittered through her face like a dark shadow and she sucked it back as best she could. "A lot." Elisa sighed, tilting her head. Her smile was faded but winsome. "Probably the entire country by now, maybe the world."

Brooklyn leaned back, offering a sympathetic expression. "Is it that bad?"

"I'm on the news. I'm known as the woman with a half-gargoyle daughter."

His eyes closed tight at the revelation. His arms braced against the steel shackles, clinking the chain links like a music box melody. "Damn," he spit, "Elisa, I'm so sorry."

"Like I've told everyone else, it's okay." she said. "I've figured this would happen and there's no point in pretending it didn't."

He heaved a breath, his chest swelling with the exertion. He couldn't tell if she was being brave or the reality hadn't sunk it yet. "It should've been on your terms." Brooklyn growled.

"When is anything on our terms?" Elisa harrumphed.

He cocked a single brow at the piercing sarcasm.

And she realized quickly. "Sorry, that was the anger talking...I've already gone a couple rounds with Margot Yale today."

He winced. "It's okay. I'm sure you've been through a lot." His eyes dropped to her stomach and like everyone else had before, noticed it was noticeably trim for a supposed pregnant woman. "Do I have a rookery niece or nephew?"

"Her name's Liberty."

His head fell and his long smile touched his cheekbones. "Named just like her uncles."

"Of course." Elisa bolstered. "I'm sorry I couldn't bring Trinity..."

Brooklyn quickly shook his head. His eye ran the length of his shackles, solid steel from wrist to elbow. The links were half an inch thick, like they'd stolen the chain from the anchor of an old sailing ship. "I'd rather her not see me...like this."

She gestured her answer rather than say it and sat down on the bunk and government-issue blanket. Brooklyn settled beside her. "How are you doing?"

He hefted the shackles for show, trying to pull them apart; the thick steel didn't budge. "Enjoying this wonderful justice system of yours."

Elisa knew the double-edged sword of the justice system well; sometimes a revolving door, sometimes a hell of a well-oiled machine. But seeing her friend shackled like a dangerous animal didn't exactly put a polished sheen on it. "I heard you made a deal."

"Had to. Got caught with my pants down trying to strangle Canmore." The name was spoken the same way someone would hack up a throatful of phlegm. "And I wasn't going to let anyone take the fall for my decision to attack the Guild base."

Elisa stared at him; she'd already heard the story of their assault after the Guild tried their luck against the castle and all the collateral damage that followed. And the fact all this stemmed from the clan's vote to depose Goliath–her vote–made it sting just that little bit more. Like a knife in the chest.

"Before you ask," he said mindfully, knowing she was carrying her fair share of guilt, "I would've made the same choice regardless how it all turned out. They would've slaughtered us."

She put a hand on his, squeezing his fingers. "I know."

"But you don't much approve of what happened, do you?"

"I don't know, Brooklyn." her voice was barely above a whisper. Her free hand raked through silky black hair. "God, there's no easy answer. As a cop, I don't know if I could ever bring myself to do what you did. But as a wife, mother and someone who's lived the last eight years under the threat of violence and death..."

"I didn't have a choice." he said quietly, hoping Elisa would look up and he'd see understanding in her eyes.

But she deliberately kept her head down, maybe hoping to spare him her disappointment. "Yeah, they would've kept coming, again and again. They came to the castle, they came to Times Square..."

He breathed but didn't say anything else.

"They would've kept coming..." she added at length.

"If I have to go prison, Elisa," Brooklyn said somberly, "to pay for my crimes and to keep the rest of the clan free then there's no choice about it."

This time she did look up, finding obstinate resolve in red features. "I hope it doesn't come to that..."

"What do you think my chances are?"

"For a fair trial or avoiding prison?"

He shrugged. "Both."

She was silent for a moment, wondering how to word her experiences with the justice system both good and bad. "Truthfully, even if you were a human with all the rights and privileges that come with in this country, not good. People are looking for a scapegoat...like Maria..."

At least she was honest, Brooklyn thought. "You know what keeps going through my head?" he asked with an angled head and dry smirk. "What would Goliath do?"

"That stubborn, honorable son of a bitch would face his day in court," Elisa smiled as she spoke, shaking her head enough to make tendrils dance on caramel skin, "because he has more faith than all of us combined and he knew it would be the right thing to do."

It'd been a while since he'd laughed out loud. Brooklyn's laughter filled the room. "Yeah, he would. I just hope my pregnant, former-stripper lawyer is as good as I hope she is."

"She's got a good head on her shoulders but a hell of an uphill climb." Elisa mused, trying to stay positive but the hard truth filtered through. "But I've seen good people in worse situations come through the fire unscathed, and you're one of the best I know."

He turned and found Elisa looking at him, almost through him, her dark gaze level enough to set the world to. "You know," he started softly, "I'm really glad you came home."

"Me too."

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

The officer closed the cell door behind her and started off, but Elisa didn't follow. Absorbed in her thoughts they were swirling. Not so much like bathwater circling the drain; it was more like a tornado, tearing apart farmhouses and trailer parks. Seeing Brooklyn chained and shackled was something she'd had nightmares about and for just a moment, the fleeting image of Trinity in chains shot through her mind. She shook her head, willing the image away and walked towards the exit.

Her pace quickened subconsciously, trying to get out of the cellblock without looking like she was rushing anywhere. But she wanted to get out before–

"Well, if it isn't th' whore of Wyvern..."

Her boots skidded on concrete and Elisa's skin crawled at the voice. She was hoping to walk out of here without even coming within fifty feet of the cellblock's other infamous prisoner. She turned to find Jon Canmore leering at her from behind the bars of his cell.

He was languidly lounging on his bunk, one knee drawn up against his chest, head at a relaxed angle. Dressed in an orange Department of Corrections jumpsuit, it clashed against his pale skin and blond hair. "Good t' see ye again, detective."

His accent was thick, she noticed, more than usual; probably all that time using the phony British inflection only served to thicken the Scottish brogue once it was discarded. "Can't say I feel the same, Castaway." Elisa hissed. "Or is it Canmore now?"

"Doesn't matter, I suppose. Names are unimportant. Only th' mission."

"The mission, of course." Despite the affable demeanor, like two old friends sniping playfully at each other, Elisa couldn't ignore what smoldered behind dark eyes. "Heard you threw in with the Guild." she said, slowly edging closer despite her best judgment. "And look where it landed you."

"This," he held both hands up in a flourish, "is merely temporary. I'm th' victim, remember?"

"Yeah, you're the punching bag." Elisa fired at him. "Karma's a bitch, huh?"

For a moment, just a flicker, the greasy smile weakened but Canmore swallowed the urge to jump from his bunk and reach through the bars to wrap his fingers around her throat. "I'm sure in th' end, kismet will reward th' soldiers in this war."

Elisa imperceptibly shook her head, struck by the words he'd used. Not quite unhinged but something was off-kilter. "And let me guess, you're one of these anointed soldiers, protecting humanity from the demons."

"Of course. For a thousand years we've kept th' demons at bay but they keep spawning, even taking human mates."

"So," he abruptly switched topics, "how does it feel to have th' eyes of th' world on ye now, detective?"

"How does it feel to be locked in a cage like an animal?" she spit back. "Where you belong."

He ignored her, continuing, "Yuir secret's finally out. Now th' entire world knows your disgusting, dirty secrets and I hope ye burn for them. You and yer bastard brood."

Her nostrils flared and she was about to voice some words that would make her mother blush, but decided against making a scene. She could take it; years in the force had made her skin thick against idle threats and empty insults. But then Canmore would make the mistake of dragging her daughters into it.

"If only I could get loose, I'd destroy every demon and choke th' life out of both yuir little bastards–"

"Watch your fucking mouth, Canmore," Elisa snarled, cutting his insult off at the throat, "when you talk about my daughters."

His head dropped, the smiled vanished and it was as if the hunter's mask was drawn down his face. A thousand years of familial instinct lit color in his gaze. "I'll kill them, you and every gargoyle in this city. I'll save humanity from their myopia."

"And the collateral damage be damned..."

"War is never pretty."

"You are insane." Elisa whispered. Those pale blue eyes were portals into madness. "I feel sorry for Jason."

"Funny," he leaned forward and clasped his hands, "so do I. Goodbye, whore. I'm sure I'll see ye very soon."

Elisa backed away, keeping her eyes on the man until she knew she was out of arm's reach. It wasn't until she was damn-near close to the exit that she felt comfortable enough to turn her back on him.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

4:30 a.m.

She opened her eyes to darkness again, a wasteland stretching on beyond what her eyes could discern as an end. Suddenly, the sound of something dropping into water could be heard and the ground rippled like the surface of a pond. Her eyes were drawn down into the mirrored surface and she saw him, there, Goliath. Goliath.

"Elisa..."

Her eyes shot up and he was in front of her, no longer just a distorted reflection under the world. But she had no voice to call to him. He reached out for her. She did the same. But as close as they were, they seemed to be miles apart. She knew something was wrong, she could feel it like a cold shiver reaching to the marrow.

Her intuition proved right, as someone suddenly intruded on their little bubble world. Like a snake Jon Canmore coiled to life from the nothingness, three red slash marks across his chest, revealing his ribcage and pulsating heart underneath the torn flesh. A glint of something drew Elisa's eyes to a knife in his hand. She tried to scream to Goliath as a warning but her throat wheezed a plume of dust and nothing much else. Not even a squeak.

She couldn't warn him. Couldn't save him.

Jon Canmore took the knife and quickly, brutally thrust it into Goliath's throat. He gurgled through the blood emptying out of the wound in his gullet, looked imploringly at Elisa and crumbled to the ground. His body powdered on impact, turning to shards.

Elisa jerked awake and sat up too quickly for her incision to handle. It sent a jab of pain through her midsection in response. She mewled and clutched her stomach, freezing in place until the pain subsided.

"Another dream?"

She looked to her mother; Diane was hovering over her with a concerned expression, Angela to her side. "Yeah." she said quietly.

Sinking into the sofa beside her daughter, Diane soothed a hand over Elisa's knee. "Similar to the last?"

"Too similar for my liking, only this one had a guest star. Jon Canmore."

She grimaced; Elisa had related her brief encounter with the Quarrymen leader and she figured he was one of the only people that could worm his way into Elisa's subconscious. "He does have a singular power to disgust people but you can't let him get to you."

"He's not. Frankly, he looks pretty pathetic behind bars and that's an incredibly enjoyable sight to see. Just my sleep-deprived, hormone-addled brain is deciding to go rogue." She rubbed a hand down her face, silently ruing the gray matter above. "I just wish it would turn off enough to get a few hours sleep."

"You've had an interesting few days, Elisa." Diane replied, shrugging her shoulders. Her daughter's resolve was impressive; anyone else might've had a psychotic break.

"Interesting is an understatement, mom." Elisa said from the side of her mouth.

"True, but it's hard to come up with a proper adjective–"

"For the chaos that's my life, and apparently my dreams as well."

"And what does your hard-earned psychology degree tell you about these dreams?"

Elisa had a flashback to university, before the badge, before the chaos. "Dream interpretation was a very minor part of my education." she deadpanned, passing her mother a lopsided expression. "I think we spent a few days at best on it. And I got bored quickly when I realized it had nothing to do with my career track."

"Then use your gut, Elisa." her mother suggested.

She smiled but it was fleeting. "He's calling to me, mom..." Elisa whispered. "He's hurt...and trapped."

Diane simply waited patiently for her to work through the images her brain had been bombarding her with.

"And I can't get to him, or warn him when he's in danger."

"I think it's natural, sweetie. You miss him and you're frustrated you can't do a thing to help him come home."

She sighed, "Yeah..."

The couch shifted slightly as Angela settled in beside her. "He'll come home." she said resolutely. "Goliath would stop at nothing to return to you."

Those big dark eyes bored into Elisa's soul; there wasn't any questioning Angela's conviction. And she wasn't lost on the parallel during her earlier visit with Brooklyn; she'd given him the same, reassuring look and she wondered where exactly that tenacity went. The dream with Jon Canmore must've shaken her up more than she thought. "You know, that's exactly what Brooklyn said."

"He would know."

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Sunrise

"What will happen now, Elisa?"

A helpless shrug. "Another day, Angela."

The gargoyle breathed at her, silently damning biology and a creeping dawn that seemed to arrive way too quickly. The night had skated past so quickly despite the season rolling into autumn. "Will you still be here when we awake?"

"Truthfully, I don't know." Elisa answered honestly. "We have an appointment with the judge assigned to Brooklyn's trial and I'm sure Internal Affairs will track me down sooner or later."

Angela didn't quite understand the intricacies of human bureaucracy but from what she understood, this organization Elisa seemed to fear so much was the watchdog for her clan, a ruling council that meted out punishment where it deemed fit. "I wish I could help you." she said softly and helplessly.

Elisa put a hand to her shoulder. "Oh, Angela, you have. Just seeing you has been more helpful than you could possibly imagine." She turned to the rest of the clan. "Seeing all of you."

"Likewise." Lexington returned and there were soft voices and nods in agreement amongst the clan.

"Listen," she addressed the entire room, "don't go to sleep worrying about me. What happens will happen. If I lose my job because I love Goliath it's...well..."

His big lantern eyes gleamed with frustration. "Unfair." he suggested.

"I know. I know. Listen, I knew what I was getting myself into eight years ago when I kissed that big lug on his tower..." Elisa said, eliciting a few smiles. "I'm not quite a fan of the consequences at the moment but I wouldn't trade my life with Goliath for anything. And if that means..." She swallowed through it, unable to voice what she'd been so cavalier about literally a few seconds ago. "If that means I lose my job and my privacy then so be it. Maybe this is the new normal. Hell, maybe I'll take up Xanatos' offer as part of his goonsquad. I hear the benefits are pretty good."

Lexington went to say something but Elisa held him down with a hand on his shoulder.

"Don't worry."

He forced a nod as much as he didn't want to and watched as Elisa retreated to allow them all space to open their wings and crouch to meet the day.

The clan readied for sleep and somewhere beyond the walls an unseen sliver of something bright peeked through skyscrapers. A crackle of flesh transmuting to stone, the familiar speckled gray color crept up from foot to brow spur and the clan froze and the room grew uncomfortably quiet. Elisa felt the loss more than she had for a long time, her heart sinking when staring into the eyes of motionless, lifeless stone. As brave as she'd been, she could feel her heart trying to pull itself in half with every beat.

Dominic Ford lingered at the door. He waited as the detective remained close to the sleeping statues, lost in her thoughts he figured. It was an uncomfortable five minutes before Elisa turned and headed towards him. "Ready?" he offered.

She nodded and let him escort her back to her own room.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Mid-afternoon, 2 p.m.

The lack of sleep had finally caught up to her after two entire days. She could only exist on decaf so long before the human body took matters into its own hands and put her down whether she was ready or not. The dreams weren't as intense this time; maybe having seen her clan put a few fears at rest, at least for the moment. Or she was tired enough that her brain simply couldn't muster the energy to generate such imagery.

But there were spirits still roaming her subconscious and it wasn't a peaceful sleep, Elisa bombarded by images of the last decade both good and bad. All of her choices were laid out in front of her and so many paths she could've taken, but she knew there was only one. All the others dimmed and only one was spared from encroaching darkness, leading to the distant horizon; and at its end stood a familiar sight.

Lavender.

"Detective...?"

The world revived with a distant bang and the sting of light through half-opened eyelids. Elisa groaned and cleared her vision. Her head rolled on her makeshift pillow and she found Abel Sykes leaning over her. "Mmm..."

"I'm sorry," he smiled, "it looked like you were pretty out of it."

She rubbed her eyes. "I was..."

"Again, I'm sorry."

With a hand clenched to the sofa's back, she pulled herself up while minding her stomach. "Do you even sleep, agent Sykes?"

He waved off the notion of sleep with a flourish. "Oh, I've absorbed too much caffeine to ever have a normal sleep schedule." he said warningly.

"Good advice."

"The judge has arrived and your interview is in an hour." he announced and Elisa looked up, blinked clear her vision and let a breath loose. "Figured you might want to get cleaned up."

"Sure, just lend me a wet-nap."

"You can use the facilities in the women's locker room." Abel offered. "I'll have it cleared for all of you." And then he cleared his throat as politely as possible. "You're all getting a little ripe."

An hour later and Elisa couldn't help but catch a whiff of the melon shampoo she'd found in the women's shower. She and her mother reveled in the steaming hot water and it was a good opportunity to scrub Trinity from head to toe whether she liked it or not. Now, holding Trinity to her shoulder and trailing behind Abel as they entered into a corridor very much removed from the beige and green and vinyl baseboard of a few floors down; it actually looked like the NYPD had spent some money here.

Gabriel Logan and Margot Yale were waiting by one of the many doors in the hall, flanked by Stephanie Helms, keeping her distance from the other woman and leafing through a volume of something no doubt pertaining to her case. As Elisa and Abel approached, the three lawyers lifted their respective gazes.

Margot was impatient and it skittered through alabaster features. "Finally."

"My fault, miss Yale," Abel said, "I was detained."

"Of course. Shall we?"

Logan tapped a few knuckles on the door and a matronly voice sung back. "Come in, please."

They entered, Elisa noticing all three lawyers seemed reverential if not a little intimidated by a simple voice. The judge had been afforded a private office on the sixth floor, separated from the chaos as one descended towards street level. It was dressed from floor to ceiling in dark shades of mahogany and subtle strip lighting from numerous bookshelves holding numerous books. As the small group filtered inside, Elisa turned and caught Abel as he closed the door behind them; he nodded as if to say good luck.

A large wooden desk was placed near the only draped window and a woman had made herself comfortable in the big leather chair. With coal-dark skin and close-cropped silver hair, she had an air of esteem about her. Every line, Elisa figured, etched into that face was a notch of survival and she wore them proudly. Her presence in the room was the center of it, like she had her own gravitational pull and all the lawyers seemed to dance lightly around her.

"Judge King?" Logan politely cleared his throat at the woman.

She answered without looking, "Yes, Mr. Logan?"

"Detective Maza and her daughter are here."

That tore her attention from her book and she gently closed it, placing the heavy, leather-bound paperweight on the desk. Her deep, dark eyes turned in a measured pace towards Elisa. "So," she snatched her glasses off and set them to the desk, "you're what the fuss is all about, hmm?"

Elisa stood hipshot, feeling herself under the older woman's scrutiny. "I suppose."

She smiled at the defiance. This woman was definitely a New York cop. "You're all over the news, detective Maza." she said. "The woman who married a gargoyle."

"Yeah, imagine my joy at having my entire life splayed open for the world to gawk at."

The judge nodded. "I am sympathetic, my dear, but you had to know this day would come. The shadows can only hide our secrets for so long."

There was something in the tone Elisa didn't quite like, but she figured she was just getting overly defensive. "You make it sound like I'm a criminal."

She was ice against Elisa's restrained fury. "No, my dear," the older woman disputed, "just someone whose choices would eventually come back to bite her in the ass."

"Falling in love and having a family isn't a crime."

The judge held a hand up before the interview derailed before it even began. She knew raw nerves when she heard them. "I'm aware, detective," judge King said apologetically, "but this particular interview isn't so much about your private life but the company you keep."

"Same thing, isn't it?" Elisa offered.

"Are you sure?" She stood up, smoothed the cream-colored cashmere turtleneck sweater and started around the desk. Her ensemble completed with a dark pair of slacks and low-heeled shoes, she took her time crossing the room and settled into the couch, sitting side-saddle on the soft, russet leather. The legal teams only allowed themselves to sit down when the judge did, such was her elegant, tacit command of the room. She opened her arms. "My name is Abigail King, detective Maza, please have a seat."

Elisa hesitated for a moment before, with a quick nod of approval from Stephanie, she approached the same couch and sat on the opposite end.

The judge's eyes first washed over Elisa and then promptly dropped to the little girl in her lap. She was struck by their similarity and any speculation this woman might've been untruthful to her biological ties to the gargoyle were quickly obliterated. "Miss Yale, Mr. Logan, am I to assume you wish to put this little girl on the stand as a witness?"

"Yes we do." Margot was adamant.

"To what end?"

"She's a character witness. She's related to the entire group of gargoyles including the accused, either by blood or by close familial ties."

"She seems very young to be called into a court of law." she chastised the prosecution.

"She is." Elisa thought to remind everyone, but she directed it more to Margot.

Judge King lowered her head a little, filling her gaze with this pretty little thing. The wings seemed to flex in time with the child's breathing. "What's your name, dear?" she asked gently.

Trinity first looked to her mother, who nodded. "Trinity." she said in a whisper.

"And how old are you?"

She held up three fingers.

"Three years old, hmm?" judge King appraised her, raising a perfectly manicured, silvered brow. "I have a granddaughter about your age. She's just as cute as you are."

Trinity shook her wings at the praise, her tail thumping against her mother's thigh.

"Do you mind if I ask you some questions, honey?" the judge continued.

"Okay..."

The judge laced her fingers in her lap. "Do you know what's happening right now?"

The smile faded and those little wings once unfurled now drooped about her shoulders. "My uncle is in trubble..."

"Yes, your uncle." the judge mused at the choice of words to describe the accused. "Do you know why?"

She immediately shot a pudgy finger towards Margot, who blanched at what she swore was a white shock of light coming from Trinity's eyes. "She said he hurt people."

"And do you believe her?"

The arm dropped and Trinity scowled, a perfect little combination of her mother and father. "I dunno..."

"Well, I'm sorry to say this, my dear, but he did hurt some people."

And Elisa buried her face the crown of Trinity's hair, feeling her daughter shift uncomfortably. If only context could be a suitable defense.

"Do you know why?" judge King asked her.

"To p'otect."

She didn't expect the answer. "Interesting."

"Gargoyles protect, your honor," Elisa explained, seeing the quirk in the judge's features, "it's their very nature. It's practically one of the tenets of their entire culture."

"Then why is your friend and your daughter's uncle under arrest for assault and murder?" she asked.

Elisa knew the question was directed towards her and not Trinity; apparently this woman was testing them both.

Mulling the loaded question with a young mind, Trinity at least tried, "I dunno..."

"Trinity, do you love your uncle?" she asked the little girl.

"Yuh!" Trinity beamed.

"And what if he is guilty? What if he did hurt those people and goes to jail because of it?"

The smile evaporated and Trinity stared daggers at the judge.

She took it in stride. "How would you try to change my mind?"

On the edge of tears, Trinity practically screamed, "He p'otects! He p'otects!"

Judge King nodded sympathetically, seeing the little gargoyle seethe and flash a bit of fang. "I know, but does protection mean its okay to hurt someone?"

"Th' bad people hurt first!"

"Are you sure?"

"I don'..." Words got lost; mind reeling Trinity tightened her hands on her mother's arms, pressing talons into Elisa's skin. Tears were freed this time. "I dunno."

"Your honor, this is the very definition of a circular argument." Stephanie argued, despite the fact Trinity was rooting for her team. "I doubt you'll convince her otherwise."

"She's a three year old trying to grasp concepts beyond maybe even all of us." Elisa cut in and for a moment she didn't quite care on what rung of the judicial system the judge perched on. "And I'll be damned if she's dragged through the courts just so Margot Yale can use her as a weapon against her uncle."

The judge lifted her head, only slightly but it was enough; Elisa held her scowl but said nothing more. "I believe that's for me to decide, detective." judge King said.

Tiny lines furrowed on either side of Elisa's mouth, deepening as the muscles contracted down either side of her face. "Fine. Just know I'll fight you with every breath left in me." she asserted, the filter wearing thin on her expression and her choice of words.

Seeing the risk of this degenerating, Stephanie interjected with a sweet-as-possible lilting tone. "I suggested detective Maza substitute for her daughter, your honor."

"And the prosecution is opposed to that suggestion." Margot spoke for her partner, whether he agreed or not. "Detective Maza is obviously biased in favor of the accused and has the mind to lie if need be, just as she's been lying for years. Her daughter has no such compunction, no such filter."

Elisa's shoulders rippled from one to the other and she was mindful of her arms tucked around her daughter, lest they clench tightly and squeeze the girl like an overripe grape. "I lied, your honor, to protect the people I love."

"You still lied."

"Yale, I swear to god–"

Judge King held up her hands to defuse the bomb she knew was about to explode. She could read the detective's body language as clearly as a book, and knowing Margot Yale's penchant for digging to the truth with as much subtlety as a jackhammer thought she might earn the detective's wrath. "Enough, please." she said firmly.

Margot leaned forward and tried, "Your honor–"

A hand went up in Margot's direction. "Miss Yale, hush."

The A.D.A. swallowed whatever she had tried to voice and it looked like it physically hurt. She collapsed back into the sofa's warm cowhide embrace, soured.

Judge King exhaled thoughtfully, intent on the little girl. She'd meant it when she said Trinity reminded her of her granddaughter and she tried to push the emotional attachment down into the pit of her stomach. She watched as Elisa comforted her daughter and rubbed one of the little girl's wing struts like it was the most perfectly normal thing to do.

"Judge King...?" Logan tried to pull the older woman from her reverie.

"Miss Yale, Mr. Logan," she said suddenly, "I don't know what you expect to gain from a three year old taking the stand, especially if she wasn't at all involved with any of the events that transpired with the gargoyles and the Guild." She turned at the waist and flattened her palms together. "I think we all know the inherent ethical conundrum in trying to tempt a child to either side. There is absolutely no doubt in my mind she could too easily be influenced by either the defense or the prosecution and for not much else than to say she loves her uncle."

Stephanie Helms resisted the urge to make a notch of victory in the air. "So, Trinity is officially off the list as a character witness?"

Judge King nodded and stayed her voice for moment, seeing if anyone would challenge her ruling. No one did. Then she turned back and settled on Elisa. "You on the other hand, detective, I think should be called on to testify."

Murmurs whispered on the edges of the room and Elisa paled. "Me?"

"You are a voice for them when voices are far too few. You will testify and you will tell the truth–"

Elisa quickly tried to dispute the decision, "Your honor–"

"As long as it pertains to this case." judge King quickly appended, her eyes washing the room. "Any questions outside of that extent I will disavow."

"That ties our hands, your honor." Margot complained. "This case isn't just confined to one person and the connections, not to mention the consequences, are far-reaching."

Judge King turned her head and regarded the blonde woman, settling a ten-ton gaze in her lap. "Then I suggest you get creative, miss Yale. If you think losing a three-year-old as a character witness is so damaging then perhaps your case is not as strong as you contend."

Seeing Margot Yale stifled by an articulately spoken argument was a unique pleasure Elisa enjoyed and she tried not to let her smile grow too big, smothered by good sense.

"I want evidence, ladies and gentlemen," the older woman continued, "not opinions. Call all the character witnesses you want, I'm sure both the defense and prosecution can find their fair share but if you're going to parade an endless line through my court I might become a little tetchy."

"Those witnesses may serve an important purpose."

"Sometimes, yes, but emotions are too running too raw right now for character witnesses to be taken seriously." judge King explained her side. "Unless they have some serious clout, we'll simply end up in a game of opinions."

"Then is my daughter free to go?" Elisa asked hopefully.

"As free as the birds, as are you." she replied. "At least from where I'm concerned. But you will receive an official subpoena when this case goes to trial. Will you be here, or shall I send a messenger to your home address?"

The older woman had such perfect control over any facial tic she was hard to read, but Elisa sensed something by the way judge King held her gaze. A message was being sent by careful wording and the subtlest of tones. "No," Elisa said quickly, "I'll be here. If my family's stuck here, so am I."

She elegantly tipped her chin. "Good. Now, I believe the three of us," judge King swept a hand over the lawyers, "have things to discuss. Detective, you're free to go."

Elisa didn't waste any time; she scooped Trinity from the couch and stood up. "Your honor." she nodded at the judge and slipped out of the chambers.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

4 p.m.

The door to their room opened and Peter didn't even have the chance to ask his daughter how the meeting went. Elisa tossed the Fairlane keys at him and he caught them inches from his face.

"Go, both of you." she said quickly. "Take Trinity home."

Squeezing the keys between his fingers and his palm, Peter visibly wrestled with the request. "Elisa..."

"Please, dad." she begged him, knowing she may lose the courage to make this demand later.

"Does this mean Trinity's not being called as a witness?" Diane said, coming round her shoulder.

"No, I am." Elisa revealed and her parents' expressions turned cold. "Trinity's free and there's no reason for her to stay here."

"You're free to go as well you know." Peter reminded her, the jingle of car keys in his hand . "Just because you're a witness doesn't mean you're being held here against your will."

"I need to stay here. You know I do." Her breathing was coming in heavy gasps, like she'd just run a marathon. "But I need Trinity out of the line of fire. And you and mom too."

Peter didn't like trading one of his family for the other. He had hoped to leave together but it was always a slim chance at best. "Damnit...are you going to be okay here?"

Elisa smirked at him, forcing her lips upwards. "I'll be fine." she lied through her teeth and knew her dad could hear it, and maybe see through the pretense; he was always good at reading body language. "And be crafty, dad, make sure no one's following you."

"Your car isn't exactly subtle, kiddo."

Diane sidled up to her left shoulder, holding Trinity in her arms. "Are you sure, Elisa?"

"Take her home." Elisa said firmly, before she changed her mind. She reached out for her daughter and put her lips to Trinity's forehead, right between her brow nubs. "Grandma's going to take you home, sweetie."

Trinity reached out with a tiny hand. "Are you comin'?"

"No, Trin, I have to stay–"

"No!" she squealed. "I want you t' come!"

Elisa took her daughter from her mother's arms and soothed her against her chest. Trinity burrowed into her shoulder, clutching at her jacket with tiny blunt claws. "Mommy has to stay for a bit but I need you to go home with grandma and grandpa. Okay? You're going to meet your baby sister." Elisa put a hand to Trinity's cheek and lifted her daughter's head to meet her big cinnamon eyes. "You need to look after her."

Her bottom lip quivered and she mewled, the sad purr resonating from her chest.

"Promise me you'll protect her." Elisa used a finger to cross her chest. "Cross your heart."

Trinity mimicked her mother's gesture. "P'omise." she conceded, sniffling.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Elisa stood outside the door and watched as her parents were escorted through the bullpen and towards the stairwell by Abel's young partner Dominic, Trinity bundled into Peter's coat to practically disguise her as even being alive let alone a little half-gargoyle. They avoided the elevators to escape any more prying eyes as possible and Diane shot her one last glance before disappearing behind the heavy fire door.

And Elisa already felt the heavy pang of separation, lingering by the doorway. Eyes focused one way she didn't notice the two men heading towards her from another.

"Are you sure about this, agent?"

"Oh, of course," Hacker smiled genially, arcing his arm in a line towards where a certain raven-haired detective was standing, "she's right through here. Just look for the red leather jacket."

The thinner man spotted her, raised his brows and quickly made a beeline for her. He approached quickly and immediately introduced himself, as if time was of the essence and he couldn't spare a second. "Detective Maza."

The unnerving speed to his movement caught her off guard and Elisa half expected to get another microphone jabbed in her face. She flinched before getting a good look at the man who'd called her name; her was barely taller than she was, maybe the same weight class and had the look of a perennial desk-jockey. "Yeah..." she replied warily.

"I'm with Internal Affairs." he announced.

She rolled her head and met the man with half-lidded eyes. "Of course you are." she said quietly. And the universe just kept giving. Maybe she should've left with her parents but it would be just avoiding the inevitable and inviting people to her front doorstep at the castle wasn't an option.

"It took a while to track you down." he said. "Agent Hacker here was very helpful."

The name tingled down her spine and Elisa spotted the bespectacled agent over her shoulder. Her expression immediately curdled at seeing him and Abel had to wonder why. "I'm sure he was..."

"I'm sure you know why I'm here...?"

Elisa's attention was torn away from the FBI agent in the trench-coat. "Yeah," she said resignedly, "I'm about to be drawn and quartered."

The man was used to the attitude towards his department and let it slide. "Detective, I'm sure you knew you would be called in front of IA."

"Yeah, of course. Home for a couple days and I'm already facing the end of my career."

"Nothing's been decided yet but it's my responsibility to tell you that you've been suspended without pay." he managed to say without pause or emotional impediment. "I'll need to take your badge."

She sighed, reached into her bomber jacket and pulled out the little black wallet, the edges worn around the shape of her detective badge. She flipped it open with a deft flick and pulled the golden badge from the sewn pocket. Her thumb grazed every notch carved into it before handing it over to the man. He took it without fuss or ceremony and it disappeared into his inside breast pocket.

"And your firearm?" he asked.

Elisa shook her head. "Not something I thought I'd need on my maternity leave."

"At your first convenience then, detective. I know of your involvement with this trial so unless there is a scheduling conflict, the board has scheduled a meeting for tomorrow afternoon."

"Yeah...shouldn't be a problem."

He stood there awkwardly before nodding curtly and took his leave, walking away as quickly as he'd approached.

Elisa didn't even watch him go; she quickly whirled on Hacker and drifted to his side, her fingers curling into the material of his long coat. She tugged and Hacker was unexpectedly yanked in close. At first he was startled at the sudden movement but what the woman was about to voice took him by surprise. "I know you're Illuminati." she said quietly, her breath grazing his ear and Elisa saw the man react with a shift in his shoulders.

"Oh?" Hacker responded glibly. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You think Matt wouldn't tell us? Especially after the Hotel Cabal incident?"

He tugged on the brim of his cap and adjusted his lapels; he was trying to be nonchalant but it translated more as a nervous tic. "Detective, you seem to have a rather uninformed opinion of me and my friends."

"Oh, we know more about you than you realize." she revealed in a low growl. "You, Xanatos, Canmore, Thailog, Mace Malone, your recruits run the gamut of scum and villainy."

Her list didn't come close to encompassing the entire Illuminati roster but it was still an impressive feat of detective work. "I'm quite interested in how you came about this unsubstantiated information." Hacker said slickly.

"You don't think the good guys talk to each other?"

"I didn't think someone like Goliath would gossip like a housewife."

That earned him a sneer that could strip paint and Elisa growled much like her husband, "Go and tell your masters to stay the hell out of my life. And maybe, when I get a gun back in my hands, I might just be gracious enough to simply pop a slug in your knee instead of through your heart."

The sly smile had evaporated when Hacker saw the hard glint in her eye. Her moral code wouldn't allow herself the satisfying pleasure of cold-blooded murder but considering what she'd just been through the last few days, shattering the Illuminatus' kneecap with a bullet would be child's play. "I don't think you understand what you're playing with, Mrs. Maza." his voice tensed. "Or who."

Elisa leaned in, their breaths mingling. "And I don't think you and your little club grasp just how many people know of their existence and who's a part of it, considering you're all so arrogant you can't help but revealing themselves to us common folk."

He made a sound through his teeth. "You don't really want to make an enemy of us–"

"Spare me." Elisa hissed. "A dumpy, little schlub like you doesn't exactly instill fear. And I've already lost my husband, I'll probably lose my career and I'm running low on shits to give." She released her iron grip on his coat, shoved him away and backtracked. "I suggest you make yourself scarce, agent Hacker."

He dusted his shoulder and bowed to her, turning and vanishing into the crowd. Elisa watched him with smoldering eyes until he was good and lost in the sea of uniforms.

"What was that about?" Abel asked her, coming up alongside.

"Don't trust that man, agent." Elisa warned. "He's more a threat to you than you could imagine."

"He's an FBI agent."

"So was Joseph Hawkins." she argued and Abel reared back.

Something in her eyes deflated any argument and his lifted his gaze to see that last vestige of Martin Hacker finally fade from view, absorbed into the rabble. He seemed a harmless, unremarkable man and how and why he pricked the hairs on Maza's neck was an interesting little mystery. "Care to clue me in?"

She pinched the bridge of her nose, simply telling him, "You'll have to trust me."

"I've known you for a day." Abel smirked.

"And you've learned more things about me in twenty-four hours than most people have in years."

His eyebrows jumped; he had to concede the point. "Fair enough."

Elisa crossed her arms, sending the hot glare across the room and hoping if Hacker had paused somewhere to give one last glance behind him, he'd see it. "Believe me or not, agent, just don't turn your back on him. He's a greasy little stain."

"Noted."

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Rolling back into the private little room that'd been hers for the last day and a half, it felt a little lonely without her parents. Without Trinity. Just a hollow cube dressed in drab colors and sparsely furnished.

She didn't think she'd be separated from her daughter so quickly after getting her back but Trinity was safer at the castle. Back home, with her clan and baby sister. And hopefully her parents would get there unmolested by the press or anyone looking to make a quick buck with a photo or a juicy piece of information. She circled the room and brushed unruly hairs from her face, her hand settling on her mouth. "Damnit..."

"My partner gave your parents an escort out." Abel said from behind. "They left via the rear entrance where the crowds were kept clear for emergency vehicle access. I doubt anyone even had any idea who was actually in the car." He'd told Dominic to tell Diane and Trinity to lie down in the backseat and hide from view, just in case a photographer got a lucky shot. Peter had slowly edged the old Fairlane out of the garage door and when signaled the coast was clear, quickly darted into the street and vanished into Manhattan traffic, becoming nothing more than a wisp of exhaust.

Elisa hoped the old man took it easy on her classic car and got her daughter home in one piece. "I'm getting in the habit of thanking you, agent Sykes."

"Better than tearing me a new arsehole, detective." he grimaced. "I rather enjoy being on your good side than the alternative."

Half-remembering the argument from last night concerning her clan, she was almost apologetic. "I'm sorry about yesterday but..." she trailed off, stopped and rethought. She wasn't going to let him off the hook with a simple apology. "Actually, to tell you the truth, agent? I'm still a little pissed."

He nodded. "I understand."

Elisa lowered herself into one of the sofas and was struck by the silence, even with the chaos right outside the only door. She'd become used to the sound of her daughter's voice and very much enjoyed being in her parents' presence again.

"So," Abel joined her on the opposite sofa, easing weathered joints into the furniture, "IA tracked you down, huh?"

"Yeah, I figured they would." she said. "Ironically, Internal Affair's one of the most efficiently-run departments in the city despite being staffed by a bunch of prying jackasses."

Cop solidarity was a powerful thing, he mused, seeing Elisa react to her department's watchdogs. "I'm sorry." Abel offered. "About your suspension, about what may or may not happen tomorrow...about everything..."

"Not your fault." Elisa sighed and looked forlornly through the exterior wall. Somewhere between here and Central Park South an old Ford Fairlane was winding its way through the boulevards. "And what matters most to me is out of the line of fire."

"Your ass still has a target on it." he minded.

She snorted amused laughter and was sure she surprised the agent sitting close to her with her nonchalance. "It has for a long time. I can take it, I'm a big girl. You don't go up against murderers, psychos and organized crime without knowing how to survive."

"What about reporters?" Abel asked lightheartedly.

"Them too."

"I've been thinking..." Abel said offhandedly. "Maybe you should make a statement to the press."

Elisa turned a sharp, smoky glare on him. "Are you serious?"

He shuffled to the edge of the couch cushion and palmed his hands together. The big forehead wrinkled in serious thought. "Listen, your secret's out." he said quickly. "There's no putting the genie back in the bottle but there is a way to control the leak. Give them what they want but on your terms. Control the information."

"So you want me to spill my guts to the world."

"Yes."

She shifted uncomfortably and was almost ready to dismiss him outright. "Not only is that incredibly dangerous, I'm going to be a witness in a federal level trial. I can't go around blabbing like my baby sister."

"Not if you don't discuss the case. And besides, if you were asked by the FBI to make an official statement to calm the increasingly-belligerent crowd, you have a plausible excuse."

Elisa reared up and opened her mouth either to argue or scream; she ended up just mashing her teeth together in frustration. "I...I can't...I just can't go out there and start singing like a canary!"

"Why?"

"My family for one!"

His face seemed to stretch as his brows rose and bottom lip stuck out. "Detective, everyone already knows...good lord, I've already seen news reports about you in Britain, France and Japan."

She rubbed her eyes. "I'm sure the Ishimuran clan is enjoying that..." Elisa shook her head, imagining just how worse her suspension could get. "IA would crucify me, not to mention my new friend the judge."

"I'll vouch for you." Abel offered. "I'll say I forced you to say something to quell the violence. You can avoid any questions about the trial to stay on judge King's good side."

Elisa found herself out of excuses and without a breath to voice them with. The mask she'd wore had softened, eyebrows slowly creeping upwards. The new normal, she thought back to what she'd told the clan before sunrise.

Abel smiled. "Tell them about your husband and daughters. Tell everyone about how much you love them."

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

How much she loved them. It sang over and over in her head like a record scratching against the needle. Oh how she wanted to scream to the world how much she loved Goliath, make everyone see just how gentle and wonderful and incredible he was.

How her daughters deserved a life outside that castle.

How the clan were benevolent protectors and some of the most noble, wonderful people she'd ever known.

How she just wanted to be married to Goliath and have everyone recognize that union for what it was.

And Elisa was sure thousands of people stepped on by persecution and bigotry had asked themselves these questions for millennia, and never received an answer. And all those questions had followed her down to the main floor, Elisa swimming in doubt as she and Abel exited the elevator into One Police Plaza's main foyer. Looking through the glass doors she could see the crowd beyond illuminated by the late afternoon sun. News vans were staked out just beyond the barriers, the various news crews lingering for any morsel thrown to them. She figured they must be salivating after two days worth of waiting.

"You ready?" Abel said from behind and Elisa saw his reflection in the glass behind her.

"Sure."

He sidestepped her and pushed the door open and Elisa walked out, first noticing the crisp afternoon air with that perfectly Manhattan tinge of smog and fresh hot dogs. She started down the concrete steps and immediately people started noticing, the red jacket a dead giveaway. The din rose, voices turning to white noise; the crowd seemed to pulsate. Once they caught her scent every member of the press scurried towards her. Abel quickly gestured to the armed guards to form a line between them and Elisa. They formed a blockade and once the throng of reporters and cameramen had slowed their rampage, they were allowed forwards to get within speaking distance of Elisa only if they behaved themselves.

Almost two dozen microphones and digital recorders suddenly appeared in front of her and Elisa stopped in her tracks. The questions immediately started overlapping.

"Detective Maza, who is the father of your child?"

"What can you tell us about the gargoyles currently in custody?"

"What does the NYPD think of your relationship, especially since you were involved with the Gargoyles Task Force?"

She held up her hand and they fell silent, every one of them vibrating like a kid on too much sugar. "I'd like to give a statement." Silence, the reporters hanging on every word and Elisa almost lost her nerve. This was it, confirmation. "My name is Elisa Maza." she found her voice again. "I'm a detective with the twenty-third precinct, born and raised in New York City...and I married a gargoyle."