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Brood of a New Age

4.

"Your groaning is louder than the TV, kiddo. I thought you liked celebrity hockey?"

"I do, Hudson. But - oh, I don't know."

"If you don't know, I can't help."

"I know."

Bronx grumbled sullenly - either because he realized how unhappy he was or because he had stopped cuddling the gargoyle beast that lay beside him. For sure it was more the latter.

"I'm going to the gym," Nashville muttered, standing up.

"'Do that Laddie. You've got a whole castle to play in."

He left the room and stomped down the corridor to the Great Hall. He stepped into the express elevator and after a few moments the cabin rushed not to the training hall but to the level of the atrium. He stepped into the large open area, the water basin - half pool, half natural swimming pond - spread out before him. Trees and bushes to the sides, the massive glass front in front of him.

"A whole castle to play in. Great," he grumbled, looking longingly over the city that supposedly never sleeps.

"A whole castle and yet it feels like I'm trapped when you guys barely let me go outside."

He understood. He had seen the continuous demonstrations that had been going on in the city ever since Goliath's trial had gone smoothly. His parents had shown them to him. And they had listened to the speakers - including that bastard Castaway - for a long time until even Katana and Brooklyn had disgust written all over their faces. They wanted to make HIM understand that a recognition of gargoyles on paper was not worth much, if the normal population was not yet ready to accept a second sentient species next to them. But probably they had only realized that evening how threatened they still were. Xanatos had considered after the trial whether he should send out a press release that the Gargoyles of Manhattan were living in Castle Wywern high atop the Eyrie building and were under his protection (still considered questionable by the clan) and that of his hordes of lawyers.

But how could he have done this without putting his employees, his family, and the clan itself in mortal danger? People would have besieged and stormed the skyscraper like in the Middle Ages and then the defenses would have kicked in and a bloodbath would have ensued. Angry civilians and Quarrymen (like those in the demonstrations) or the police, the GargoyleTask Force or even the army would have engaged in a slugfest with Xanato's defenses or mercenaries paid by him. It certainly would not have come to that. Xanatos would not have been that foolish, despite all his gratitude for Alexander's rescue last year and his remorse for his past actions towards the clan. Making an enemy of all of New York and America would be poison for business and for his marriage. He might not have handed the clan over to the people who came to the castle, but he would have "evacuated" them - kidnapped them in their stone sleep and taken them out of their territory. Something that would have made Goliath and Brooklyn furious. But it wasn't the time to go at each other. Hell - if the President, the Governor or the Mayor of the city decided tomorrow to go against court order and common sense and accommodate the screaming mob, they would all be imprisoned or dead the day after tomorrow. They had the court decision - but lived even more fearful and hidden than before. All gargoyles? Well, him at least. He lived in fear and hiding. If it was up to the adults, who barely let him stretch his wings.

He really understood. This city was not safe, this time, this world was not safe for him, not even for the adults. He had seen the footage of the terrorist attack last year. Had seen Hudson and Lexington lying half dead in the arms of Goliath and Brooklyn. Seeing his father so young had disturbed him just as much. Although he knew that in this time plane only a few weeks had passed between the attack, Brooklyn's time travel and his reappearance together with his family and watchbeast - it was irritating.

It was strange for everyone. Strange for Brooklyn to rejoin a clan now, after all his adventures and after for him forty past years , for whom not four minutes had passed for the others. For weeks he had noticed the looks of the others always when they thought Brooklyn would not notice. How they tried to get it into their heads that this much older Brooklyn, the one with the eye patch, the straighter gait, the quieter manner, his fondness for futuristic laser weapons should be THEIR Brooklyn.

Strange for Katana, for whom it was not unusual to prove her adaptability in foreign centuries and foreign cultures, but who had needed weeks to digest that the time and space jumps should now be over and she should settle down and feel at home here. And strange for Nashville himself, who knew nothing but to follow his seemingly overbearing father and strong-willed mother. They had drilled into him not to tell anyone, neither humans nor gargoyles, about events of time travel, especially from the future. And this secrecy made him sick. He wanted to tell so much - and with every question he had to consider how much he could reveal. It would be easier if he could continue to distract himself. But he succeeded less and less. He had been promised that if the Quests ever came to an end, if they came out in Manhattan of 1996, it would stop with Brooklyn and Katana dragging him behind them, constantly living in fear of losing him if the unruly Phoenix Gate reappeared in a strange or even dangerous time.

And now! They were no longer dragging him behind them. But he was also barely allowed to leave the castle! He understood all the arguments. He wasn't stupid after all! He was just so... he was in chains and nobody saw that. The adults tried to fulfill their mission, their urge to protect humans as best they could. They tried to live their own normality. And denied that normality to Nashville with their concern. Of course he was allowed to fly "patrol" - but only with his parents. And never more than an hour. And with everything that went beyond a broken car he wasn't even allowed to help but was left like a hatchling on a rooftop to watch and learn. He did NOTHING but freakin' learn. Circumstances and conditions of this time. Other languages, not just English, Latin and Japanese. And always, always history. If he heard one more time that he could not accumulate enough historical knowledge in a world with time travel, he would run into a wall! And he had enough walls to choose from here. Stone, metal, plaster. His world was full of walls for him and when he went out into the air it was like the supervised hourly release of a prisoner.

He was supposed to arrive here. But he felt more stranded than ever. No other Gargoyles his age, no human children his age. This damn building had every conceivable amenity the 20th century had to offer but he was a Gargoyle, dammit. He didn't want to prance around the training hall - alone! He didn't want to swim in the atrium - alone. He liked Hudson - he'd never had a grandfather figure but Hudson was the way he imagined a grandfather to be. However, he didn't want to watch TV or read books all the time like an old man or baby sit like Lex - no offense to Alex but he was just a toddler right now. Lex was the rookery keeper in disguise here, not him!

"I'm suffocating here. Does anyone notice?" asked Nashville over the sound of the small waterfall.

He sighed, flipped over the railing and dropped into the pool, clothes and all, to let the water swallow him and his frustration.

Now our story reaches the Manhattan Clan! Here's my version of Nashville 1997. In the comics, he's always so grumpy and unhappy. I left him like this, because he has a lot of reasons to be pissed off.

Thanks for reading, Q.T.