This chapter is going to be much longer than the last, so enjoy :)

Please read and review :)

….

Matt leapt down from the rafters of the cathedral and headed out onto the outside roof of the cathedral, where the gargoyles all stood in their silent vigil. His black mask, which covered the top half of his face, heated up quickly in the morning sun, but Matt tried not to let that bother him. He smiled gently as he heard the gentle chirping of the baby bird who had hatched inside the mouth of one of the gargoyles. "Good morning…" he whispered, "…is today going to be the day, are you going to fly?"

He grinned as he heard the small bird's heartbeat speed up, lifting him up over the rooftop. "Well, if I was going to fly, I would do it today. It's the Festival of Fools!"

The bird still wouldn't budge, so Matt began to bounce his hands up and down in encouragement. "Think of all that music, the juggling and the dancing!" Matt heard the bird's wings flapping frantically and so, sensing that the bird was flying, Matt moved his hands out from under it. He quickly placed his hands back under, chuckling as the bird landed back down, chirping as a flock of pigeons flew by.

"Go on…" whispered Matt, "…nobody wants to be cooped up here forever." With another gentle bounce, the bird flew off, leaving Matt behind.

Matt listened out for a few seconds until suddenly, the gargoyle beside him coughed, spitting out the remains of the nest. "Oh yuck! I thought he'd never leave!"

Another gargoyle, to the other side of Matt scoffed. "Well, you shouldn't have slept with your mouth open Karen!"

"O go scare a nun Claire!"

Karen slid up next to and placed a friendly arm around his shoulders. "So, what's going on down there? A fight? A flogging?"

"It's a festival…we've never had a flogging, why would you choose that option first?!" interrupted Claire.

"In this town you never know…oh, it's the Festival of Fools!" exclaimed Karen excitedly. "Pour the wine and cut the cheese! And we have balcony seats!"

Matt sighed, "Yeah…but we're only watching it, or in my case listening…." he turned away from the edge of the rooftops and headed back indoors.

Karen didn't seem to notice as she smirked evilly at something below her, "Oh, look…a mime"

However before she could do anything, Claire stopped her and pointed at Matt worriedly. Karen frowned, "Hey, what gives? Aren't you going to wat-I mean listen?"

Claire and Karen watched him leave in bemusement. Karen turned to Claire and winced, "I don't get it!"

"Maybe he's sick!" muttered Claire in concern.

"Impossible!" cried out another voice, "If twenty years of listening to you two hasn't made him sick, then nothing will!"

Another gargoyle, known as Marci, made her way into the cathedral. Karen and Claire followed on behind her with Claire frantically explaining their reasoning. "It's just that, watching-sorry, listening to the festival has always been the highlight of the year for Matt!"

Marci sighed and span around, pigeons landing on her shoulders and head. "What's good about listening to the damn thing if you don't get to go?" She growled at the pigeons and waved her hands about, sending the birds flying. "Get away from me you fucking buzzards!"

She continued on into the bell tower, "He's not made of stone like us!"

The trio made their way up the stairs that led straight to Matt's room. It was a dull area, with not much visual stimulation…unsurprisingly really. All it really had in it was a bed and a small desk with two music boxes on it and a radio. When they arrived at the top of the stairs, they found Matt slumped at his desk.

Marci hopped over to the desk and folded her arms. "What's the matter with you Matthew? Karen and Claire are worried, and when they're worried, they give me grey hairs!"

"I just…don't feel like listening to the festival today." Sighed Matt.

Marci rolled her eyes, "So, why don't you actually go?!"

Matt shrugged, "I wouldn't fit in out there….I'm not normal."

Marci sighed and patted Matt on the back, "Listen Matt…" she scowled at the bird that just landed on her nose, "…do you mind?" She banged her fist on the table, "I would like to have a moment with Matt if that's alright with you!"

Karen appeared on the other side of Matt, "What do we have to do Matt, paint you a fresco?"

Claire gently grabbed his hand, "As your friends and your guardians, we insist that you go to that festival!"

"Me?" asked Matt in confusion.

Karen rolled her eyes, "No, the Pope. Of course you!"

"It would be an amazing experience!" exclaimed Claire

"Wine, women or men, and cheese!"

"You could use those senses of yours to try different cheeses?"

"Bobbing for apples!"

"Think of all that music!"

Karen dunked a bucket of water on Claire's head and grinned, "Playing dunk the monk!"

Marci sighed at the antics of the pair, "Matt, listen to me, take it from an old spectator. Life isn't a spectator sport. If all you're going to do is listen, then all you're going to hear is the sound of your life passing you by!"

Karen nodded, "Yeah! You're human, with the flesh and the hair and the…" she shuddered, "…naval lint. We're just part of the architecture! Right Claire?"

Claire removed the bucket from her head and sighed, "And yet, when people chip us we flake and when water is thrown on us…" she glared at Karen, "…we get wet!" She shoved the bucket on Karen's head, grinning at her protests.

Marci growled at the pair before sighing, "Look Matty. Just grab a fresh mask…or don't even wear one and go have fun!"

Matt shook his head, "Thanks you three, but you're all forgetting one thing!"

"What?!" chorused the three, as Karen removed the bucket.

"Stick…"

The three gargoyles winced in sympathy and groaned. "Oh yeah…."

Claire frowned, "Well…when he says you're forbidden from ever leaving the tower…does he mean ever, ever?!"

"Never, ever! And he hates the festival…or fun in general. He'd be furious if I asked to go!"

Karen smirked, "Who says you've got to ask?"

Matt shook his head in despair, "Oh no!"

"You sneak out…."

"It's just one afternoon!" chimed in Marci.

"…and you sneak back in!"

"He'll never know you were gone!"

Matt shook his head again, "What if I got caught?!"

Claire grinned, "Better to beg for forgiveness than ask permission."

"What if he heard my heartbeat and recognised me?!"

Karen hopped over to one of Matt's drawers and pulled out a separate mask, this one was red with horns. "There are so many people in that courtyard, it'll be impossible surely?! You could even wear that cool red mask if you need to….not that it'll help against Stick, but it will against everyone else! Besides, what Stick doesn't know, can't hurt you!"

Claire nodded in agreement, "Ignorance is bliss!"

Karen punched the other gargoyle gently on the shoulder, "Look who's talking!"

Marci nodded as well, "Nobody wants to stay cooped up here for ever."

Matt paused for a few minutes before jumping up from his seat. "You're right!" He headed towards the stairs that led to the main hall, encouraged by the cheers of his friends, "I'll go get cleaned up…I'll stroll down those stairs…I'll march through those doors and-"

Suddenly, he was stopped in his tracks by a sharp pain on his head, followed by a second hit that sent him stumbling back a couple of steps. He had been so distracted, that he hadn't even heard Stick coming up the stairs. "You'll do what boy?!"

Matt shook his head frantically, "Nothing…."

"Who the hell were you talking to?"

"M-my friends."

"Hmph, and what are your friends made of?"

"Stone."

Stick used his staff to lift up Matt's chin and smirked, "Can stone talk?"

"No…it can't"

"Smart of you to notice that…now, are you going to stand around all day or are you going to get the plates so that we can actually eat today!"

Matt quickly grabbed the said items and Stick pulled out the food and drink. They sat in silence for a few minutes before Stick smirked. "So, you were thinking about going to the festival?"

Matt tried to deny it, but Stick ignored him. "It's just that…you go every year!"

"Yeah, to keep an eye on that imbecile Fisk. Make sure he doesn't do anything he shouldn't. But I hate every second of it! Thieves, whores and drunks all piled into the gutters of Hell's Kitchen, making out like they have nothing better to do in their little, insignificant lives!"

"I didn't mean to upset you?"

Stick had wandered outside, onto the roof balcony. "You don't understand Matthew. When that bastard of a crook shot your Father that night and knocked you out to try and finish the job. Anyone else would have just left you there in the street and not bothered to help. You owe me! I'm keeping you safe!

Matt hung his head in shame, "I'm sorry…"

"Matthew. You don't know what's truly like out there…I do. The world is cruel, wicked. You only trust me in this city! I teach you, dress you and feed you! I don't think of you as a freak for your blindness! I can't protect you unless you stay in this tower…"

The air headed back towards Matt's private space.

"Your blindness is seen as a weakness, remember that Matthew!"

"I remember…"

"And many will do everything in their power to use this against you! Take advantage of you!"

"And that's why I'm up here…so you can defend me."

"People will mock you for your disability, why would you invite that kind of attention?! Listen to me and stay in here!"

Matt nodded in agreement and sighed, "You are good to me…I'm sorry Stick."

"Nice to know. Remember Matthew, this tower is your sanctuary." With this final sentence, Stick headed back down the stairs. Matt waited until he could no longer hear the sounds of Stick's heartbeat or his staff tapping along the ground, before sighing. "Yeah…sanctuary."

He headed up to the open balcony and began to sing softly to himself.

"Safe behind these windows and these parapets of stone. Gazing at the people down below me.

All my life I listen as I hide up here alone. Hungry for the histories they show me.

All my life I memorise their voices, knowing them as they'll never know me.

All my life I wonder how it feels to pass a day…not above them. But part of them!"

He scaled down the pillars to where his friends were waiting.

"And out there! Living in the sun. Give me one day out there, all I ask is one…to hold forever!

Out there! Where they all live unaware…of what I'd give, what I'd dare! Just to live…one day out there!"

"Out there, amongst the builders and the lawyers and their wives.

Through the roofs and gables, I can hear them. Every day, they shout and scold and go about their lives, heedless of the gift it is to be them."

Matt skidded down the water drain, "If I was…in their skin, I'd treasure...every instant!"

"Out there! Strolling down the streets, taste a morning out there, like ordinary men…who freely walk about there!"

Matt climbed up to the highest part of the cathedral, taking care to remain in the shadows as much as possible.

"Just one day and then…I swear I'll be content. With my share.

Won't resent. Won't despair. Old and bent, I won't care.

I'll have spent, one day out there!"

….

Brett sighed as he walked through the streets of Hell's Kitchen, still dressed in his civvies from his two year holiday. "I can't believe they've changed everything…" he muttered to himself, holding out a hand in an attempt to grab the attention of the passing policemen, "…hey, where's the new courthou-"

They kept moving though. Brett rolled his eyes…some things didn't change.

"Fresh meat! Fresh meat at half price now!"

Brett smirked at the familiar voice. Turning around the corner, he instantly spotted a young man with longish blonde hair, holding a box of meat. The boy was dressed in a traditional butcher's outfit, with an apron and everything….Brett knew that not everything was at it seemed though.

"Should you really be selling this stuff on the street?" he asked, grinning as the man spun around in shock.

"Don't do that Brett! You nearly gave me a heart attack and I am way too young to die!"

Brett grinned and patted the boy on the back, "It's nice to see you again Foggy. How are your parents?" He knew Foggy's parents were widely known as gypsies, which made Foggy himself a person of interest.

Foggy shrugged, "Same as usual. Taking care of my sister…hey, I have those cigars that your Mom orders." He began to root around in the box, ignoring how Brett groaned in despair.

"I knew I shouldn't have left her alone, especially with you and your cigars!"

"Hey, they're legal! I wanted to be a lawyer remember?"

Brett nodded. Due to Foggy's family ties, he wasn't able to get a spot on the course so he resorted to be a butcher in order to make money. However, before he could say anything else, a lookout whistled out a warning. Foggy suddenly jumped to attention and tried to head in the direction of a nearby accent…the only problem was that with the sudden movement, all of his money ended up falling out of a hole in his apron and onto the ground.

Lacing his box of meat on the ground, Foggy desperately tried to pick up the coins before the cops arrived…but it was too late. Two sets of boots appeared in his line of vision. "So gypsy brat…" grunted an officer as he pulled Foggy to his feet, "…where'd you get the money?"

Foggy rolled his eyes, "I earned it. Didn't you see the box of meat?" Foggy bent down to pick up said box and shook it at the pair.

"Gypsies don't earn money, they steal it!" exclaimed the other cop as he tried to twist Foggy's arm behind his back.

Foggy shook off the grip and rolled his eyes, "You'd know a lot about stealing!"

"Trouble-maker eh?"

"Maybe a night in jail will calm you down!"

Foggy didn't seem to appreciate this idea. He kicked the first officer in the nuts before elbowing the other in the stomach. The pair grunted in pain and fell to the ground briefly, giving Foggy enough time to make a run for it.

The two cops tried to follow but this is when Brett made his move. He jumped in front of the pair, quickly grabbing his badge when he saw the anger on the cop's faces. "Sorry to interrupt, but I'll need you two to take me to the courthouse. I need to speak with someone."

Brett had recently been promoted, so it was no surprise when the cop's attitude changed from angry to ass-kisser very quickly. Minutes later, he found himself being escorted to the courthouse. During the journey, he spotted a hooded figure seated on the floor by the wall. Brett rolled his eyes and fished a spare fiver out of his pocket, placing it in the ragged hat by the vagrant's feet.

"You're a trouble-maker Foggy…" he whispered, grinning as he heard muffled laughter from the figure.

Things had definitely changed around here.