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Brood of a New Age

37.

THE TALK with Goliath had Nashville quite shaken up. He didn't want to think about such things anymore. That's why he was glad to get out of the castle when all the adults had finally left. He now had to concentrate on the following appointment. He was still not very keen on meeting this Grigio, but maybe - if he played his cards well and could win over the other kid like he had done with Graziella - he would have TWO human friends by the end of the day.

It was a gloriously warm Saturday night and the streets were still or already crowded at eleven o'clock at night. Nashville sailed as usual in the blind spot between the blocks and even if one of the humans spotted a dark shadow, it was never more than a wing tip and the silhouette flashed by too fast for the observer to even nudge his companions and ask if they had seen it too. And that's why it was more of a coincidence that out of the corner of his eye he saw a figure walking down a street that was too small and delicate to be an adult.

Even if this was New York, a child walking alone on a Saturday night was a rarity. Nashville was already half a block away when he sharply slowed in mid-air to execute an acrobatically skillful loop that Lexington himself could hardly have done tighter, landing on a roof ridge to take a closer look at the person now heading in his direction. Blue thin hoodie, half-length washed-out jeans and sneakers. Easy to mistake the person for a boy and that you couldn't see hair or face because of the hood pulled deep into "his" face and the person kept his head lowered on purpose didn't make it easier. But what did "he" have in "his" arms? Just then, the figure marched past a group of giggling young women in tight party dresses, who all turned around with stunned faces as they passed by. One of the women seemed to want to shout something at the child, but the child's step was so purposeful and hurried that it was obvious that it was expected somewhere, and so the women refrained from burdening themselves with a problem that probably wasn't one at all. A car at the side of the road was started and flashing car headlights briefly bathed the small person in bright yellow light. It WAS Graziella. And she was carrying ... a stuffed animal?

A gray stuffed bunny. Nashville frowned thoughtfully. Until the scales fell from his eyes. GRIGIO! Gray in Italian!

Grigio is a stuffed bunny! He had been all along. He would have loved to laugh out loud with relief. But so he considered the child who just turned below him into another street with an affectionate look and whispered:

"Oh Graziella, you have no idea how grateful I am that your Grigio is a stupid stuffed bunny. Please stay a child for a long time. Preferably forever."

He chuckled and sailed back across the street to get ahead of her again. So no meeting another friend of Graziella's. No new friend for him but also no worry that she might like someone else better than him.

Forgotten was the most embarrassing conversation of his life and all new insights about gargoyles and humans, about men and women. He didn't want to think about such things. It was Saturday night and he was a kid like Graziella was a kid. Two kids who talked and were friends and liked each other even though they had never seen each other and might never see each other. Graziella had not asked him to show himself since their second meeting. It was as if she had accepted that he was the boy without a body. Like an invisible friend. But this was nevertheless a friend. Maybe there would come a time when he could show himself to her. When the Quarrymen were no longer spraying their venom, when gargoyles were more than a rare species on a piece of paper, either dangerous or worthy of protection. If Nashville had his way, their "blind" friendship could go on for a long time. If it got cold, he could bring Graziella warm cocoa. And they could watch the same shows and talk about them. He would ask today if she watched TV and what her favorite shows were. She wasn't a typical girl- she was so much better- maybe she liked a show he liked too. What did she think of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles? They were ninjas- he was a ninja- somehow.

Once again, Graziella fearlessly walked past a group of revellers, ignoring them. But this time the three men turned and didn't leave. One was tanned with an almost military brown short haircut, a dark leather jacket over a white shirt, the second was beefy, downright fat which was emphasized by the denim jacket with the cut-off sleeves. The third was a lanky bald guy who even wore purple sunglasses at night. Ridiculous characters through and through.

But even five stories up, Nashville saw the dirty grin that first spread across the tanned face and seemed to infect those of his two cronies. They exchanged glances, one said something. The other two nodded and now their smiles were those of wolves as they turned and followed Graziella.

Nashville felt his eyes light up and the roof tiles splinter under his claws as he involuntarily dug them in there.

"Oh, you won't dare," he hissed spreading his wings and hastily gliding closer. He landed on a iron balcony three stories above the ground of the alley where Graziella had just been shooed in by her three pursuers. She pressed Grigio against her, and a randomly convenient streetlight bathed part of the alley in enough white-yellow light that Nashville could see more than enough. So could the three thugs.

"Well, what have we here?" purred the one in the leather jacket, who was obviously the pack leader. The three adults circled Graziella as if she were prey. Nashville had to restrain herself from not immediately rushing into the alley with a battle roar to teach the guys a lesson. But then Graziella would be scared to death, too. And the thought of seeing that fear in his girlfriend's eyes- fear of him- he couldn't even fathom. How could he get through even one more unrecognized meeting with her if her fearful eyes kept stealing into his mind? The thought of rescuing a human being for the first time triggered fear as much as raison d'être. He would reveal himself ... but only at the last moment. When there was no other option left. Maybe Graziella could somehow get out of this situation without a new horror vision of an ugly monster burning itself into her childish brain forever. Graziella was smart. And tough. And maybe the men just wanted to scare her. They would never hurt a little girl, after all. Or would they?

"A little kid shouldn't be out alone this late," the fat one purred. The lanky man had moved behind Graziella and yanked the hood off her head as if casually. Her hands were gripping it but her long glorious curls waved around her head like dark maroon cascades. For a second there was amazement at the true quality of their trapped prey. It remained the mangy satisfaction at this catch.

"Such a sweet little princess. All alone," Leatherjacket said with a new quality in his voice that made Nashville's tail roam furiously over the balcony and through the foliage of the sad tomato plants that grew in pots there.

Graziella hugged Grigio tighter, and even from above Nashville saw her bitingly dismissive expression.

"I'm about to meet a friend. I don't have time."

Clearly taken aback by her strong accent as much as by her icy cold, dismissive yet firm voice, the three guys were silent for a few moments. Nashville nodded from his balcony. THIS was his Graziella! True, she was a little girl. But no one could look so staunchly brave, even downright sublime and superior when they were only three feet tall and had a stuffed bunny in their arms. Nobody except HIS friend. Still, he saw how tightly she hugged Grigio to her chest, showing that she was only pretending not to be afraid. It was a good facade. But nothing more.

By now the three guys had recovered from her not very childish attitude and overlooked it.

"No time for us?" the lanky one with the clean-shaven skull purred, managing to sound seriously hurt. His buddies laughed.

"Even kids are in such a hurry these days."

"Foreign kids. Are you a tourist's daughter? Where's your hotel?"

"None of your business," Graziella said firmly. "I don't want to talk to you and I'm leaving."

"It's MUCH too dangerous in this town," the leader said.

"At night," added the thin one.

"In the dark," concluded the last.

"A naughty little thing, walking around New York alone. The things that can happen to you!" grunted the beefy one, coming very close to her. She backed away, right under Nashville's balcony. It would be TOO easy now to jump on him and pummel him as he deserved. Nashville, for the first time in his life, felt the need to really hurt a human offender. He felt the iron bars of the balcony railing deform under his hands. If his girlfriend dove NOW from under the bull's neck arms and ran as fast as she could, she would make it out of the alley.

"Please, Graziella, run," he whispered. "Please don't make me step in. Please."

But Graziella did not run away. Her tone became like Nashville had never heard it before. She sounded like a proud queen forced to talk to gutter rats.

"What do you want from me? I don't have any money!"

"You don't," Leather Jacket said cheerfully, exchanging looks with his buddies in which were downright dollar signs. "But I'm sure your father will pay us royally if we take you to him. Get the birdie, Ralphy."

"With pleasure!" the fat man chuckled, grabbing Graziella from behind.

She shrieked and cursed like Nashville had never heard a little girl curse before. "Get the fuck off me! You asshole! You have no idea who I am. I'm Graziella Dra-"

Behind her, she heard a loud sound. Breaking pottery. The sweaty rough hands let go of her instantly, she whirled around and just saw the guy's eyes twist in their sockets until no pupil was visible. The ceramic pot - broken in two parts - dropped to the left and right and for a moment it looked as if a half-grown tomato plant was growing out of his blockhead next to a pile of earth. Then he fell backwards, unconscious.

"Who was that?" screeched the Baldy, and all eyes went up to the balconies above them. But they saw no one. Could such a thing have been a coincidence?

Whatever. Graziella took her legs in her hands, told Grigio in her mind to hold on and ran. She passed the gaunt man but Leather Jacket pushed her back roughly. Graziella fell to the ground with a UFF and lost Grigio.

"You stay there, main prize!" When the guy grabbed her leg with eyes spraying rage, she kicked his shin out of reflex that he howled.

"Get her!" he commanded his buddy, panting, and he had just grabbed the shrieking Graziella by the arms and lifted the kicking child off the ground when a shrill noise above them all froze the blood in their veins. It sounded like half a dozen chalks being dragged across a blackboard all at once by a particularly mean teacher. The two thugs froze and even Graziella, dangling in the air between them, stopped kicking. And looked up. Where the light of the lanterns did not reach, in the deepest darkness, she saw two white lights flash. The lights were EYES! She saw a shadow jumping from a balcony railing across the alley without her head understanding WHAT she was seeing. Then a gutter squeaked as suddenly the weight of a body hung from it. The shadow seemed to climb "headlong" and at an uncanny speed two stories down.

When the thing was directly above her, eyes glowing unblinkingly with unchristian fire, she saw countless sharp fangs gleaming in an inhumanly elongated face. Clawed hands dug into the gutter as the monster shrieked and leapt at the leader.

The monster tore open its mouth - no, its beak - as if it wanted to bite off the human's head, and Leather Jacket shrieked like in terror and panic. And the monster screeched too, and nothing, NOTHING in that scream was even remotely human. Graziella was long on the ground, forgotten by both men, and could only watch frozen as Leather Jacket fell to the ground, kicking under the creature, which by now had spread large leathery wings.

"Stab that thing! Stab it!" the leader screamed frantically as the monster pounded him with its fists, wings flapping and tail lashing. The lanky one ran past Graziella with a knife and had already raised it when the monster, which Graziella now recognized as a gargoyle, turned its head and jumped on all fours toward the attacker. It lashed out with its long tail and slapped the knifeman so brutally on the forearm that he dropped the knife and it skidded towards Graziella. The man instantly decided that escape would be a better option than going unarmed against this thing. The gargoyle had cleared the alley by jumping off the leather jacket and the skinny guy ran out of the alley as fast as his legs could carry him.

Growling loudly, the monster turned to the battered leader, who got up and left as quickly as possible. Growling turned into a strained, annoyed panting as the gargoyle rose to two legs with oddly shaped feet and turned to Graziella, fists still clenched. The fire in his eyes flickered like a flame of ice as he approached her. Graziellas looked wide-eyed at the monster, which was worse than the thing in the Quarrymen's picture, worse than her fantasies, worse than her nightmares, and she knew in that second that everything Nashville had told her had been tall tales. He had never met gargoyles, and if he had seen THIS, he would know better. He had lied to her because he wanted to reassure her, because he thought she was a fearful child like everyone else did. And they were right, she WAS scared. She backed away from the approaching gargoyle, her hand touched something long and hard, and Graziella lifted it up and held it out to the gargoyle. The knife of the bald man shone in her hands as she grabbed it with both hands, trembling desperately, and thanks to the blade she found her voice again. But although she had just sounded braver than ever before in front of the three men - even cursing as she had heard the adults do in the courtyard - now her voice sounded shrill.

"STAY AWAY!" she screeched. The monster stopped short in mid-step as if it had understood her. But then it seemed to decide that the morsel in front of it was too delicious for a command to stop it. It took more steps toward her, stretching out its hands with fingertips that ended not in fingernails but in dark claws. Graziella remembered how the gargoyle had opened its beak wide enough to almost sink the leader's head into it, remembered the fangs, the glistening of saliva on them, and the story of Alessio. And though fear was deep in her bones, she also became angry. Now she had finally found a friend in America and was being eaten by a gargoyle! NOW? This was so unfair! She wasn't going to just put up with this! She was Graziella Dracon! Whether the thing ate her bones or not she would NOT let it eat her without fighting back.

The monster had calmed its breathing by now and was just opening its mouth to let out another angry scream when Graziella threw the knife. It whirled around like the knife thrower in the circus show Graziella had once attended with her grandmother and hit the raised hand of the gargoyle. The monster yowled briefly, retracted its claws, and clasped the hand the blade had hit. Graziella jumped up and ran past the gargoyle, grinning widely because she had escaped the greatest threat in her young life. She was already at the end of the alley when a child's loud, wailing sobs sounded behind her along with a strangled word. "Swallow."

He had succeeded. He had saved Graziella. Like the knights in the movies. But where the handsome shining knights rode off into the sunset with the princess, all that was left for the monster was screams. And pain. Why was it that the monsters were always the losers in the stories? Even when they tried to be good? Nashville clutched his hand that had been hit by the knife. The blade had only scratched him. It barely bled. But where did this incredible pain come from? Never in his life had anything hurt so much.

Nashville lowered his head. And saw Grigio lying there. Abandoned. Forgotten. He bent down, picked up the cuddly toy with his uninjured hand and pressed it against him. It smelled like Graziella. Like his swallow. He stood in the alley, holding Grigio and whimpering, mourning the only friend he had made in this time. Never again would he be able to talk to her. Even if she dared to come to the playground again after nightfall, Nashville would not go there again. He would immediately burst into tears if he heard her voice again. Because he would remember her horrified look at her screamed order to stay away. Her scent mixed with fear. Fear OF HIM. The monster who was forbidden to come closer. They could no longer be friends. Not even pretend anymore. Because he was what he was. No shining knight in the light of the sun. A beast. A creature of the night. He didn't even have the strength or the will to fight anymore to look up, when he heard silent footsteps approaching. Should the humans find him. Should they shatter him. He did not want to live like this anymore. Hated and loathed by all. Even by Graziella.

Graziella's scent wafted around his nose again, and he knew it wasn't coming from Grigio. He retreated into the darkness, which was not touched by the light of the street lamp, and tried to control the next sobs as he saw Graziella coming back into the alley. Slowly, still with wide eyes. If he could have concentrated on that, he probably would have heard her racing heart. Why was she here again? He rubbed his beak against Grigio and suddenly knew. Of course. The bunny. She was taking this risk for that stupid rabbit. She was a child after all. He squeezed the cuddly toy one last time, then crouched at the threshold between light and shadow.

When Graziella saw an ice-blue clawed hand push Grigio into the light, she recoiled. Again someone sniffled up his snot. But no inhuman scream came from the darkness. Instead, the voice of a boy. The timbre of his voice a dark yet desperately pressed timbre as it could only sound when someone had been crying or was about to.

"Here you have him. He's just ... Grigio's just a little wet. And maybe dirty. Surely you can wash him." Graziella swallowed. She recognized the voice. Everything she had assumed to be safe and pleasant was suddenly ... gone. And was replaced by other things. She should have been angry about this. But she wasn't. The gargoyle - the child - in the darkness sniffed again, but she saw only moving shadows.

"You ... are Nashville," she said, surprised herself at how firm her voice sounded.

"No," the shadow returned, whimpering. "I'm not. Go home ... Human. Take Grigio and go." This time, not a hand but a dark gray tail pushed the rabbit toward her. She bent down, picked up Grigio and stroked his ears. He really was a little dirty. And wet from tears.

"You lied to me," she muttered.

"How could I have told you?" the monstrous shadow asked, upset, in her best friend's voice.

"That's not what I mean. You told me you would never cry." Graziella said and she saw the shadow raise its inhuman head and suspected it was looking at her. The mere idea of how this head was shaped triggered a feeling of unease in her stomach, but once again, in the darkness, her opposite pulled up his snot. She reached into her pants pocket and pulled out a handkerchief and held it up with an outstretched arm.

"Blow your nose," she said softly. And after a moment, an inhuman hand with a thumb and three thick fingers reached out into the light. Carefully, claws plucked the tissue from her hand, retreated again into the darkness, and someone blew his nose as loudly and snottily as only a child could.

"Thank you," croaked the gargoyle boy.

"You're welcome," Graziella returned. And now extended her hand. "Now come into the light."

"No," said the darkness.

"... In your story ... the gargoyle child did not dare to come into the light. He didn't dare to make friends. Out of fear. But you said we were friends. You and me. Are we still?"

The shadow didn't answer but Graziella knew her opposite looked at her. No glowing eyes.

She took a step towards him. Her fingertips almost touched the sharp line between the twilight of the streetlamp and the shadow.

"If we're still friends. If you still want this, then take my hand."

Seconds passed, threatening to hang between them like smog. Until, slowly and hesitantly, a hand was guided out of the darkness. An inch before their hands touched, Nashville paused. But Graziella took over, grasping the palm that felt strangely leathery and pulling her friend into the light. Nashville blinked and knew he looked anything but cool, as devastated as he was. Looked at both their hands. Intertwined as he had wanted them to be. But -

"You're shaking," he noted, croaking.

"That's not me. Not only me," Graziella said, and Nashville realized she was right. He was trembling himself.

"I'm sorry," she said softly, and he raised his eyes. The hint of uncertainty that still lingered on her face was masked not by disgust, not by hatred. But by pity. That was almost as bad as hate for him.

"Don't be sorry because I'm a monster."

"You are not a monster."

"I saw your eyes just now, Graziella. You don't have to sugarcoat it now just because I cried."

"I'm sorry because I talked bad about gargoyles without knowing anything true about any of you. I'm sorry for yelling at you just now. I'm sorry for throwing that knife at you."

"You were scared. We don't blame people for being scared. It is just... so painful."

"Your hand?"

"No." He raised his other hand to the level of his heart. "Here. This is where it hurts the most."

Graziella's gaze was now on his other hand.

"You were bleeding. Because of me."

"It's stopped already. Our bodies are much more stable than yours. I can hardly feel it."

"I saw where Maria had bandages in the utility closet when she cut herself once with the potato peeler and went to get a Band-Aid." She looked around, her gaze flying up the fire escape. She pointed skyward, Grigio dangling between her fingers. "Meet me up there in fifteen minutes." Her hand was gone from his faster than he could realize. She backed away, giving him one more smile. "Don't fly away. I'll be back."

Then she was gone. Nashville lowered his head to the hand in which he could still feel Graziella's warmth.

"We don't fly. We glide," he said bitterly because he suspected he would never see her again.

This is one of my favorite chapters. Very emotional, very conflicted situation. But somehow also totally sweet at the end. (And I also managed to squeeze in the three goons from the show).

You are still welcome to leave me reviews here or on AO3 Kudos (and/or Reviews^^)

Thanks for reading, Q.T.