Big Houses
Summary: His memory is not perfect but neither is it sepia-toned. For every joy that he can remember there is an equal pain. Sometimes it is worse.
A/N: more of the same prose practice since I've not been inspired to write anything else. I did not like using this song because some of the lines are tricky but anything with a repeating chorus wouldn't work for obvious reasons. This "chapter's" events are in chronological order but these take place before, during, after and in between the events described in This Too Shall Pass. (Its all intertwined and if you think about it too hard it'll make your head hurt. Trust me)
Brief mention of TimeDancer.
Pairings: Angela/Broadway, Elisa/Goliath, Fox/Xanatos, Implied *cough*blatant*cough* Owen/Bluestone, Alex/Merlin Missy OC (see endnotes)
Warning: FEELZ, mild ooc (depending on how hard you squint), Slash, mentioned Character Death
Disclaimer: Disney Vista and Greg Weisman still own Gargoyles. They are still better than me. Lyrics for Big Houses belong to Squalloscope. Go hear the song (I used the lyrics as heard - with repetitions - rather than lyrics as posted on info site)
"Prayer is the bell jar-" David said cooly. Owen kept his eyes on the man's father, watched the older Greek's jaw tighten with anger or hurt, maybe even sorrow. The Xanatos men were hard to read. "You put over this goodbye."
XXX
"I'd rather..." Owen paused, not entirely sure how to continue. Detective Maza smirked at him and it only made the hesitation worse.
The blond gestured vaguely toward the door that her partner had left through moments before, unaware that the young woman had been so close, watching and hearing. He cleared his throat.
"Leave this embrace between you and I..." he trailed off, unwilling to beg for the promise of her secrecy. In turn Maza eyed him, judging silently and a long moment passed.
Suddenly, a smile and a nod and she was ushering Owen toward the opposite door.
"Let's lock out."
XXX
"- the bearded old man," David was choking on his own laughter and Fox, holding their cranky looking son was doing only a slightly better job of controlling herself. Lexington was chuckling beside him, santa hat slipping precariously on his bald head and Owen could not help the faintly twitching smile that came to his lips as David tried desperately to finish the story. "-In the night gown-"
XXX
"He can tap against the glass," Elisa murmured quietly, keeping her back to the large window. Owen saw the dark shadow against the glass and he too ignored it. He refilled her cup of tea and wondered silently at how this relationship had formed between the detective and himself.
They weren't friends, not in the sense that so many would use that word, but there was an understanding and he supposed, since she had so much difficult history with Fox, it was only natural that Elisa would ask for him under such circumstances. Sisters and mothers and step-daughters-in-all-but-name were too close, too familiar and too protective to offer the sort of distant but comforting presence she apparently wanted.
A tear escaped her eye and Owen quietly handed over his handkerchief. She accepted it and shook her head, a deep breath holding any undignified sobs at bay.
"But I'm not coming out."
XXX
"-I build bridges with these arms," Titania-in-Anastasia's-skin spoke loudly, in a tone that was meant to sound calm yet still end the argument. Fox was not listening, her face twisted in the anger she'd shown the night this woman had stood idly by while Oberon attempted to steal Alexander away to Avalon."I will not build a fortress-"
"-In the circle 'round the kitchen table," Fox continued her own half the argument still louder than her mother and as though the other woman had not tried to cut her off. It was a good argument, Owen thought. The queen was not impressed. "I say my "Amen" because I-"
XXX
"-Feel blessed. Secretly hoping while joining hands..." Owen paused, pen inches from the paper in front of him. He wasn't sure how to say it but it needed saying. Even if this piece of paper - this letter - never saw the light of day he needed this.
The pen lowered again.
"...that you can't feel my trembling fingertips..."
XXX
"If I sign this piece of paper," Hyena leaned back, playing at aloofness even as her free hand rubbed nervously at her swollen stomach between the ever tightening implants.
Owen had never thought of Hyena as the maternal type but then how many would say it of Fox?
If the look on the redhead's face was anything to go by she too was wondering if the woman - criminal, murderer, psychopath - was going to try and back out now, so close to the finish line.
They needn't have worried.
Hyena smirked, and put the pen back to the paper.
"Do I sell my soul along with my duties? And-"
XXX
"We," David snarled, and Owen had to fight not to put his hand on the other man's shoulder. Petros stood, unmoved by his son's rage, the papers still in his hand, held out like...
Like the ultimatum that they were.
David started forward, as though to strike and that was when the older Xanatos started to look worried. Owen did touch his employer, his friend, then and David stopped, hands fisted at his sides.
"Won't," he didn't usually yell, thought it was undignified and foolish but he was clearly fighting the urge now. "Put our money," he stopped again, every brief pause a respite, a reminder to breathe. "Where your Catholic," he said it like a curse and to him it very likely was. Owen's hand on his arm was gentle, a comfort. "Mouth is."
XXX
"Even though the teeth are long gone..." The... creature, Owen could not think of anything else to call her, pressed close to Fox and the two small children huddled behind her. The redhead's eyes narrowed and her face remained cool. She was angry, but unafraid even as the monster's long tongue slipped from between its bloodless lips and touched her cheek. "There's still..." it slurred softly "bone beneath the gums... and..."
Owen moved as quickly as the head injury would allow, felt his body jerk with power not his own.
"There's a lot of potential," Fox said calmly her mouth curving slightly in an almost smile. She made a sudden motion and the creature froze, Owen still not full changed into the smaller, more powerful fey. The redhead pulled her hand back, a slender dagger held firmly between nimble fingers as the monster collapsed, jerking on the ground.
Behind the woman Alexander covered the younger girl's eyes, bravely shielding her from the sight of blood being pumped out of the creature's heart and onto the stone floor.
"In a mighty, mighty organ."
XXX
"And they told us not to clap," Lexington said with the false calm and authority of someone addressing a crowd - a voice he had practiced long and hard and now had only an audience of one to use it on. Owen nodded silently beside him, looking down over the bright lights and noise of the city. Elsewhere there was a rally, loud and likely to turn violent and Lexington had been forbidden from giving his speech there, where he would likely have been made into martyr but at least, the young gargoyle had tried to argue, they would not be thought silent and complacent.
"So we clap as loud as we can! Because-"
XXX
"The reverb in those holy halls," Broadway spoke softly to his mate, the scars on his face softened by time but still there, still a testament to how vulnerable these mighty creatures still are.
Angela looked at him no differently now, Owen thought, than she did when he first earned the key to her heart. She listened quietly, looking out in the direction of the abandoned church he spoke of and neither say the name of the missing gargoyle Broadway goes to that church to pretend he can hear.
"Is like a long lost friend...He keeps hitting the walls and comes all the way back again..."
XXX
"I want trees instead of gravestones," Fox said flatly. She had not cried yet. Owen did not think that she would. 'Anastasia' was silent. Her opinion was not offered because was not welcome and Owen had no doubt that the Queen's half-breed child could find the power to throw the older woman out if she really wanted to.
The Queen must have felt this too.
"And nothing-"
XXX
"-to confess," Owen said blandly, standing from the pew. The priest was startled because of course he was. People did not enter that particular house of God at that particular time of night unless they need the cold, distant comfort of religion or the immediate comfort of another human when no others can be found.
He eyed the alter with its candles and image of a beaten and bloody Son. His jaw twitched and he turned his back to the scene, willed himself not to picture a different son on the cross. He walked to the door, pace measured and unhurried. The priest let him go.
"I've got a soft spot for your ancient books of horror stories."
XXX
"I got a music in my ears," Alexander said, confused and a little distressed. Fox was trying not to look worried and David looked at Owen, begging silently for answers. "From long long ago and far far away and..."
Owen ignored the parents, knelt so that he was nearer eye level with the young boy and put a comforting hand on a small shoulder. Alexander focused immediately and Owen doesn't exactly smile but the look is gentle and soothing. He nodded and leaned forward to confide in the boy.
"I still hum its tune, but-"
XXX
"How?" Bluestone asked, voice strained, face most likely turning all manner of fascinating colors but Owen's eyes were fixed on his hand. On the tattered paper, folded and unfolded and stressed over and ignored and eventually determined not to be meant for Bluestone's eyes. Owen had thought back then that he could not bare the man's reaction to the trite, pretty words.
Now it was the shame. The shame of having the other man know how he'd felt and been unable to express and this was all wrong because that letter had been hidden away before Bluestone had left how could he-
It was in the box, Owen thought. The box that was technically his but that he'd not wanted after... after.
It had been in the box and now it was in Bluestone's hand and now Owen's face was hot with shame and anger and his hand was sweating and those eyes were on him again and he could not bare it.
"-Could I ever believe," the detective was still speaking, had the gall to sound betrayed, as though Owen had withheld something of value or import from him. (This he had done, technically, but Matt. Matthew. Detective Bluestone. No longer had the right to be angry about it). He broke off, thankfully and Owen tried to convince his body to move, to let him leave before the other man inevitably started again but he couldn't. He was frozen to the spot and unable to defend himself against the words falling from those lovely lips.
"Every word it says to me...?'
XXX
"We follow our own steps," the little girl pointed at the footsteps in the sand, leading a taller and bored looking Alexander down the beach. She rolled her eyes and pointed back to Owen and her own guardian where they watched, silent, some ways away.
"While our shadows keep watching us."
XXX
"We follow our own steps," she sang, long braid streaming behind her as lean legs carried her down the hill. Alex gave chase, laughing. Beside him Owen felt the older woman shift, perhaps to hide some disapproving frown.
Owen didn't particularly like where this friendships was leading either. Fox had her reasons, good ones at that.
But this could be dangerous.
"While our shadows keep watching us."
XXX
"Our own steps," Alex laughed, maybe a little nervously, while large brown eyes stared up at him. He was right in that they weren't the proper steps for a waltz but Owen didn't correct, knew he would not be a welcome interruption and their distance was enough (Alexander's hand was properly cupping the young lady's scapula rather than her waist) that he did not feel necessary.
She stepped on his toe and they laughed again.
"While our shadows keep watching us?"
XXX
"Our own steps," Alexander lead her away and Owen didn't fault him for the briskness of his walk. The pair took the stone stairs two at a time. And the boy, if one could call a 13 year old that without getting snapped at these days, looked back and gave him a well practiced contempuous look.
Owen knew enough about hormones and rebellion (and had seen this same boy behave similiarly to his actual parents) to not be offended.
"Whild our shadows keep watching us."
XXX
"Our own steps," she was smirking, which Owen didn't think entirely appropriate under the circumstances, despite the torn lip. Alexander grinned back, wincing only slightly as Owen scrubbed at the cut on his jaw with more force than strictly necessary. Fox was giving them both unimpressed looks while David was trying very hard not to look approving.
He wasn't doing a terribly good job.
"While our shadows keep watching us."
XXX
"-our own steps," his voice was low, and Owen made a point not to notice the soft kiss that passed between the teens in the moment after. "While our shadows keep watching us."
XXX
"-our own steps," Alexander's voice held power enough to command any crowd but this one had been eagerly awaiting his words and did not need the encouragement. Gargoyles, humans, fey and halflings of all sorts cheered. It was a mighty roar of a sound and for just the briefest of moments Owen thought that maybe in the end it would be ok.
Beside him David was gleaming in metal armor and weaponry and Owen could not help but think that it would't be enough. Fox was on the teen's other side practically glowing with power and dressed in the barest minimum of constricting armor that her husband had allowed. She Owen felt no need to worry for, not in the battle and that in itself worried him.
Alexander looked back to him and smiled, finishing his childhood mantra in a voice meant only for the blond.
"While our shadows keep watching us."
XXX
"The wrong step-" the former queen was silenced by a silently raised hand.
Alexander, stunning and shining in metal armor near cracking with magic, did not face her. His face, bearing a beard styled like his father's had been and bearing the mark of his mother over his eye, did not turn from with window.
Puck thought that from below the gathered crowd would think he was gazing at their preparations for departure in approval but the young king's eyes were focused beyond them to the barren wasteland that had once been a battlefield and now held only the Great and Ageless Tree.
"Would be not to start this exodus," the king finished, and in his tone there was no room for argument. Titania face did not reveal her anger or her dismay. He still did not look at her and it filled Puck with a vicious glee.
Alexander turned from the window in Puck's direction because he would not look at the Queen even in passing and he knew it hurt his grandmother but he had been raised by Fox and David Xanatos, felt no regret and showed very little mercy. Titania should have known this from the start.
Puck, following his Lord down the hall, had never felt the need not to face the former Queen and did so now.
"The wrong step," he said, voice sing song and mocking while his smile was cold and distant. He watched the hurt flash in her eyes before she could stop it and reminded himself of her smile when Alexander, still weeping, first sat on the throne. "Would be not to start this exodus."
XXX
A/N: I tried REALLY hard not to fall into my usual tense confusion in this installment and omg it was so hard you idea of Hyena having a daughter in prison, giving that daughter up for adoption (handled by Fox), and that daughter being close to the family afterwards is Merlin Missy's brilliant thought and you all need to go read the Consequences series which is brilliant and beautiful and tragic and one of the best I've ever read.
( I did not use the daughter's name from that story 1) because that really would have been stealing and 2) I was unable to get a hold of Merlin Missy for permission to directly allude to her story. Merlin if you read this and take offense I will cheerfully remove this chapter at your command.)
Go. Now. Read Consequences.