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Souls of the Night – Vol 3.

69.

Lexingtons POV:

Nathaniel took a deep breath. Had been breathing deeply for three minutes already. Before he let out a whistling sigh and opened his eyes again to look at the window across the street. He and I were crouched on the rooftop opposite Nathaniel's parents' house, where his relatives were squatting on the floor praying like they did every Friday before the family dinner. I wondered if Nathaniel's brother had told them that Nathaniel had promised to come. I wondered if anyone in there had even halfway worked out a script - even if only internally - and rehearsed it like Nathaniel had done with Davis and me for hours, or if they would just spouting venom and bile.

My friend had cried a lot in those hours of preparation, but had also become a little more determined to deliver without having a nervous breakdown and/or bursting into flames and incinerating his whole family, including me. He had fire extinguisher chips in his pockets but if he got excited enough ... I was nervous about this confrontation myself. Very much so. But I couldn't let it show. Nathaniel was still pretty chewed up by his memories, just like me. There would be long therapy sessions with Davis again over the next few months. We had all brainstormed again whether we wanted to expose Nathaniel's human family to his memories of Jussuf. It would cause them pain. But the truth hurt. In this case, it hurt incredibly. Nathaniel now knew that knowledge didn't come without a price, but it wasn't just about him, his pain, his humiliation.

He stripped his memories bare, along with all the suffering and the effort to keep this humiliating truth - which said as much about him as it did about Jussuf - a secret from the people for whom he had endured this ordeal. He thus rendered his years of secrecy and torture somehow worthless. And in doing so, he burdened his family because he wanted to prevent them from suffering even more. For Hassan to replace him as a plaything for Jussuf. And even for Jasmine, who couldn't get stuck with a man like that. They would be hurt by what they saw, they would live through traumas and suffer their own. But that was better than the alternative. Nathaniel knew that. Letting them live through his torment second hand was not an act of revenge or spite, although I would have understood that.

His family had mistreated him like Jussuf. Albeit in a very different way. Neither his parents nor his sister had felt obliged to find out why Nate had been the way he was. They had simply labeled him an anomaly and a disgrace, and it had been easy to use his homosexuality as an excuse for everything else. His brother had never helped him or stood up for him either. Hassan had grown into a life where it was normal to have this messed up brother. But still. Despite everything, Nathaniel couldn't look away now that this terrible new vision of the future lay at his feet. He couldn't hide in his new life as a gargoyle when he knew that Jussuf had found himself a new victim. If it had only been about his own pain, he would not have found the courage to stand up now and reach out with a determined expression. But it was about others. About weaker ones. He was already much more Gargoyle than he ever thought he would be.

He and I climbed down a rain gutter, pulled out our respective prepared morphing patches and stuck them on our forearms. Shivering and groaning, we both became human. I pulled out my gold-rimmed glasses and put them on while my friend retied his bun with a grim expression on his face.

After we had put on our shoes and checking that all my magnets on my sides had closed properly so that you couldn't see that the clothes were special, he turned his back to me so that I could slap the fabric over the back where his wings had been sticking out and close it with the Velcro so that it only looked like a seam. I could see from his tense back muscles how stressed he was. He was vibrating with nerves, almost dread. I rested my forehead against that small patch of exposed skin and he stopped, placing his hands on mine that I had wrapped around him.

"We don't have to do this, Nathaniel. You know we have other ways to stop Jussuf and take him out of circulation for good." I didn't mean murder explicitly (although I would have liked to make an exception in this case) and since Nate relaxed a little, he probably knew that. He turned around and kissed me softly and fleetingly. And again. I knew he'd much rather kiss Lexington Wyvern than Lex Eyrie, but he needed it now. Then he smiled.

"I must come to a close. I want to face Jussuf when he realizes the wind has changed. When he realizes I'm no longer the victim he's made me out to be for years. I want to take away everything he thought was safe for him and I want him to know that he brought his own misfortune upon himself. I know it will hurt me. And them. But it's the right thing to do."

"Go on then," I said, beaming with pride. We crossed the street with the bag containing the already charged memory crystal.

"You know he's going to throw dirt?"

"He can. It'll be the last time. After tonight, he won't manipulate anyone else," he growled, sending a pleasant shiver through me. One last time as we stood in front of the door, Nathaniel drew a deep breath, but unlike the first time in February when I had forced myself on him at his compulsory family dinner, I didn't press the bell, he did. This time he straightened his back and willingly took my hand. I couldn't help but notice with fascination how his face took on a stern yet cool noblesse from the side and with it an enchantingly beautiful mask. With a strained smile, I tried to put on exactly that detached expression as I turned my head and the door opened.

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Nathaniels POV:

Lexington's hand tightened in mine for a second as not one of the others but my father himself opened the door. Usually my mother or Hassan did it while the head of the house remained seated and welcomed his guests inside his house. Not only because of his prosthesis and his problems walking (I still couldn't believe that my younger self had had enough nerve and tolerance against emesis to cauterize his stump - that was just one of the many pills I had to swallow). I had even mentally prepared myself for Jussuf as the gate keeper. I had emotionally braced myself to see his stupidly grinning face in front of me and his confidence that the evening would end in his favor. But I hadn't reckoned with my dad. I had saved his life several times, as I now knew, and he didn't even know it. I couldn't remember the last time he had made the effort (even if it was only physical) to approach me. But now he had opened the door for me. That meant something. It had to mean something. Only I didn't know whether it meant something terrible or something promising.

His gaze slid from Lex Eyrie to me after a second and his eyes did a quick but thorough check. What did he perceive? What did he approve of? Did I even want acceptance now after more than ten years of him treating me with coldness rather than real affection? He was never nasty like Jasmine or Mom ... just distant. He had his own traumas and I should take them into account, but I couldn't help but reject him for his behavior and at the same time want a hug. And approval. Did he see that I looked healthier, that I had put on some weight and even some wiry muscles? Hassan had been impressed by this before I had put him off.

I imagined my gulping could still be heard in the house (which was very silent inside) but I managed to keep my gaze steady and show a wry smile that I didn't feel like. A warmth fluttered inside me from Whisp and Fiery as if to let me know that they were there, that they were with me and that helped like Lexington's hand in mine which my father had also taken note of.

"Hello father," I said, and wow - I hadn't stuttered or whimpered. His previously inquiring tired look became a little more lucid as he sought my gaze for the first time.

He took a deep breath as if the following was very difficult for him but before he could do anything dismissive (like slam the door in my face) the corner of his mouth twitched upwards in a ghost of a smile. His eyes remained assessing, not truly hiding a tired disappointment that was old and new at the same time, but he stepped aside.

"Switzerland has done you good," he said politely as we entered and slipped off our shoes.

"Yes, I feel much stronger," I said with relief, wishing he could see behind my forehead and know in how many ways I meant that.

"We need to talk. You understand if there's no meal?" my father told us, and that was one of the variables we had worked through with Davis. If there wasn't a big meal at a family gathering among Muslims (especially if you hadn't seen one of the family members for a while), you could assume that shit was about to hit the fan. But I had also been afraid of having to discuss the matter over copious amounts of food and no one knew how much it suited me not to have to eat. That's why I was able to answer promptly and calmly.

"We weren't expecting to be catered for either. Thank you for having us anyway. We need to talk."

My father looked at me again for a long moment, glancing briefly at Lex, who was just as calm as I was.

Then he nodded.

"You're different," he said. And now my smile was genuine, because it was an insult that could only be interpreted as a compliment and therefore as acceptance.

"Thank you, Father."

Everyone was sitting around the coffee table in the living room. Hassan next to our mom. Jasmine - her hand in Jussuf's lap as a silent claim from him - wrinkled her nose as I entered with Lex and politely greeted everyone. The silence was like something out of a completely overacted Pakistani soap opera. I saw my mother eyeing me frowning as my father had done but with even more irritation. My clothes - although made for the gargoyle I now was and wanted to remain and therefore had some cleverly concealed holes for my extra limbs - were obviously tailored to my body. I seemed fine, people who weren't me told me I looked good. Healthy. Lex even said I looked handsome as a gargoyle and a human. Of course, far be it from me to be desired by anyone in my family, but I wanted them to see how good the change of scenery had done me. I wanted them to SEE that I could be different ... when I was in the right environment with the right people. That wasn't meant to be a criticism of them per se - but ... they just weren't good for me the way they were. Just as I hadn't done myself any good the way I had been. I could be better. I wanted to be better.

Which I didn't really manage when it was Jussuf who broke the leaden silence and I flinched as he stood up and walked around the table, arms outstretched.

"Insallah, these flabbergasted faces! Everyone is totally shocked at how proper and healthy you look, Nasser! Wow, you have to give me the address of this spa. If this place can tickle THAT out of someone like you, what would it do for the rest of us. Come here, Nasser!" he said as he hugged me and everything inside me stiffened and wanted to lash out with my currently non-existent claws at the same time. His hug was harsh and I knew very well that he was trying to tickle a reaction of pain out of me. But I wasn't skin and bones like I had been months ago and I didn't have a back torn open by his belt. He thought Lex Eyrie was my new ... owner, rider, Dom, whatever, but Lex would never raise his hand against me and even without Stone Sleep I wouldn't have a scratch from him. Jussuf broke away from me too quickly for me to perceive any disappointment on his part and now honored my friend with his feigned deceitful approachability. Lex next to me audibly growled a very human growl as Yussuf hugged him too, patting him on the back so hard he almost fell over.

"No bad blood over that incident in February. You gave me a gigantic scare. I was so upset that I snapped at a policeman and they kept me until Monday morning. Sit down, I'm sure you've got a lot to talk about," he said as if he owned the house. Lex and I sat down opposite the others on the smaller free couch while my father settled into the armchair at the head of the table. I had everyone in view and everyone was close to the coffee table - that was good.

I took a quick look at Hassan. He was wearing long sleeves and his look was both anxious and threatening. But I couldn't do him the "favor" of keeping quiet. He hadn't confided in anyone and hadn't sought refuge in my apartment in the flatlands like I'd told him. He simply didn't believe me. He was too ashamed and thought ... hoped Jussuf's temper would pass. Oh how I had hoped for so many months and years. I was the menace to him right now because he didn't know how bad it could get. Would get. He was blind. That would change very soon. But first I wanted a chance to get everything off my chest. After that, I wouldn't have any more chance, I knew that. The visions themselves - although they could last hours and hours for the avatars in them, despite the montages - only lasted a few seconds in the outside world, but they were traumatizing and draining. I now had to try to clear the air. Without magic. I wanted them to recognize the truth but not wantonly shatter the rest of their world view.

I licked my lips and looked at everyone in turn. "Thank you for welcoming Lex and me back into this house. I don't want to imagine what Jussuf told you about our last clash."

"Clash you call it?" Jasmine huffed, looking at me like I was a cockroach. Even if I saved her tonight, she would probably loathe me forever. I would have to live with that. And I could. Lexington's warm presence next to me was comforting. I was not alone. So- from now on, there was no turning back.

"I have no intention of bothering you again after tonight. But it's important that I tell you a few things. I've worked through a lot of things and you just have to listen to me. Mom, Dad. Jussuf is not the person you think he is. He is not only manipulative but a true sadist. He should not marry Jasmin, he should not have contact with anyone in this family. He is-"

"I just can't believe it! Seriously? You're coming with this now? Two weeks before my wedding? It's not enough for you to fuck up your life, you want to ruin all our lives?!" spat my sister.

"Oh brother. You look healthier but your mind ... it's still just as sick," Jussuf said so much more gently and so much more deceitfully than Jasmine.

My mother shook her head between disappointment and breathless anger.

"If you spew lies like that ... how can you expect this family to continue to tolerate you."

"This family doesn't have to tolerate me anymore, mother! You just have to open your eyes. Jussuf Masoud bullied and harassed me almost since high school. And he won't stop there." I turned to Hassan, whose face fell as I began to speak to him.

"Hassan. I know you're scared. Scared that you won't have anyone left when the truth comes out. But ... family should love you even if you're not what they want you to be. Even if Omm and Baba and Jasmine don't believe you, I do. You will always find help with me. Because I have been where you are. So please - don't let it get as bad as I let it. Because it will get worse - I swear to you. It's a cycle that you don't realize is getting worse and worse. You think every time this or that thing was an exception, an accident, Jussuf's particularly bad day. But it gets more and more unbearable, you break a little more each time and at some point it even becomes dangerous. Through you or through him. And you try to explain this abuse to yourself and numb it later because it's all down to you, isn't it? It must be you if others, even your own family, tell you. You are frantically trying to shut out or repress this inner tirade, which is a repetition of the phrases that others whisper to you - with drugs, alcohol, self-harm, OCDs or you develop neuroses and depression and-"

"What are you doing here? What are you trying to talk him into," our mother whispered, her voice a stunned wheeze of disgust. She had to think I was sinking deeper than she could ever have imagined. But she looked at Hassan, who shook his head in horror and lied to her face.

"I have no idea what he's talking about!"

"I'm telling the truth," I said wearily through my speech - in full meaningful sentences without stuttering despite the horrified looks from all my blood relatives and Jussuf's cold stare, I felt strong and proud. Proud of myself. Calmer and more collected than I had been in ages. I should have done this decades ago - no matter the consequences.

"I regret that it's only now that I've found the backbone to speak plainly with you. There are reasons why I was the way I was."

Jussuf threw his hands in the air.

"Oh Yalla! - now we're getting to the section where he blames us for his depression and every other whim."

"Not per se them," I growled, and Jussuf's eyes went wide because the patches weren't one hundred percent glitch-free (or my magic was interfering a little with them) because my growl sounded very non-human. My following tone was deeper and full of barely concealed anger.

"I don't care what others think. Yes, by now I don't even care if my family believes me. Because I don't have to rely on their acceptance of me and of reality because I know it was real no matter what lies you spread. I am here to try and turn THEIR fate around. And I have people who believe me, support me, love me even when you tried to break me. You broke me but I'm putting the pieces back together and I will come out stronger. You no longer have any power over me. And even if I don't get along with my family anymore, I will NOT let you do the same thing to Hassan that you did to me. With Lex and his family, I feel safe and empowered again after many, many years. I want to continue to grow - and become better for myself and for them."

"Then why didn't you stay with them!" screeched Jasmine angrily and shrilly. A vein throbbed on her otherwise flawless forehead and I had no doubt that if she had had a baseball bat she would have beaten me with it. But I could no longer kowtow to anyone's anger or disapproval. Never again.

"Because I want to save you too, even if you've been a vicious bitch to me for decades! You don't deserve this."

"How dare you," growled Jussuf. And I growled back. Deeper, harsher. And stared back at Jussuf in his seat.

"Stop it," I heard my father say, sternly but with an essentially impotent hoarse tone.

But I couldn't break through the stare-down I was in with Jasmine. SHE broke eye contact first, the corner of her mouth twitching, supposed realization, disgust and amusement in that one muscle twitch before she spoke softly.

"You sick, jealous fag rat. You've always been jealous of me and Jussuf. Because you want him for yourself."

Repulsed by this accusation, I leaned back on the couch in horror grounded by Lexingtons Hand on my lower back. Jasmine knew how to throw a punch. Jussuf did too.

"Wow - your speech just now. It really gives the impression that you've worked it out really well. Did you and your stud script that with a therapist? Do they do that at the spa for a little extra cash? Family destruction 101?" my former tormentor asked with wide seemingly innocent eyes. My snarl made Lex chuckle softly beside me. He held back, giving me strength through his benevolent presence alone. This was my fight and mine alone. He was just my support in case it escalated or I ran out of words or started to get too hot. But I felt okay. Fiery inside me sent the strong urge to roast Jussuf to ash flakes but he wouldn't get such an easy way out.

"Okay, I'll play along with your psycho game," Jussuf said. His joviality skillfully contradicting my story.

"Let's assume I did what you're suggesting here. Then you take refuge in the short wimpy arms of an aloof Manhattan yuppie asshole. But who would want a broken figure like you? Only someone who will oppress and break you as much, probably worse, than I supposedly did. If I tortured you, you'd have wounds. Even very old ones. Show them to us, we want to see proof."

I exhaled silently. Jussuf didn't know I was a gargoyle, my wounds healed by the stone sleep, the magic even mending the old scars. I had no physical evidence, but even if I did, Jussuf was so sure of my shame at my battered body that he didn't think I'd ever show my skin to anyone here. Lexington next to me cleared his throat, pulling me up out of my helpless whirlpool of thoughts.

"Nate, he wants to tap into your fears and insecurities. Just like Davis said he would. We have other ways to make everyone here understand the truth."

"Sweet." Jussuf gave me the hard look under which I'd squirmed in the past. "You'll realize he's not the solution."

"He's not supposed to be a solution for me. He and I- we-"

"You're someone who makes others want to crush you under their boot. You'll realize that you had it so much better with me, even when I was hard on you, I only ever wanted the best for you. I'm giving you the opportunity here in front of our family to apologize, cut your strings to Eyrie and everything can go back to normal. It won't last with him anyway. He'll throw you away when he gets tired of your personality. So you'd better end it now. I, at least, haven't given up hope for you completely. You can go through a few rounds of morality training at a mosque in Queens. Hila and I informed ourselves there. Then we would accept you back into the family circle."

Jussuf nodded with a smile to Hila, who nodded back determinately, not realizing how much she was shoving a knife in my back with this "solution". I had heard about these moral courses from stricter, more traditional imams. It was torture and brainwashing of its own kind to bring the depraved youth of Muslim families into line. I snorted and started to laugh at the thought of whether these courses only took place at night or whether they could chisel out the gay and crazy bits of me if I stood in the middle of the prayer room as a statue. Even Lex, who must have picked up on my train of thought, chuckled before we both caught each other. If everyone in the room hadn't looked horrified before, they did now.

"No!" I said with the last traces of ironic mirth. "You think I would come back to you when I'm down. Because even though you're abusive it's the abuse I know. And you imagine I would find some kind of sick comfort in this "normal" for me, my "baseline" even though I'm suffering like mad. But if something doesn't work out with Lex - we've been there and we've worked it out together. And we've always become stronger and better for each other as a result. And I'm developing self-worth and feelings of empowerment again, which you took away from me! Your emotional abuse will stop here. Just like the physical abuse has stopped since the night you tried to kill Lex and me."

"What?"

As if in passing, I waved my hand in the air and answered Hassan's blurted out question. "He beat me and Lex half to death and then threw us off the roof of his company."

"You already know the story from me! That's not what happened." I paid no attention to Jussuf, reveling in the certainty that this irked him, keeping my gaze on everyone else in turn instead.

"He only told you his version, the one you'd rather believe. He has SUCH an easy time with you guys, it's scary. It's been scary to me for years and I'm finally strong enough to say it."

"You lie and try to sully everything good we try to build. You're a humiliation to your parents," my mother hissed.

"Believe what you want!"

"How are you talking to me!" Hila yelled before Baz hit the table and shouted "Enough!" so loud and low that everyone, including me and Lex, flinched and fell silent.

Jussuf was the quickest to catch himself with that mean, confident smile. His voice was quiet in the stifling silence where everyone waited for the next blow, sweet as honey and treacherous. Jussuf was simple - but good at playing his part.

"You see that, Nasser? You're upsetting everyone. Your kind-hearted, poor mother. Your good, unfortunate father. Jasmin and I are days away from our wedding. You ruin everything. You come here and drop bombs on everything because you're still sick. Physically you look fine but your mind is more twisted than it's ever been. Your too-short fat-cat lover sits next to you like this is an amateur actor's performance. But it's our lives you want to turn upside down because of the ghosts in your head. Mr. Eyrie might find that quite entertaining."

The noise Lexington made was really not very sympathetic. Snippy and snobbish.

"I think he's in agreement with the ghosts in his head on this one. This is a rescue mission and soon everyone will realize that. I think what he's doing is very heroic. And I'm not going to disempower him by taking this battle away from him when he can fight it himself. I believe in his strength," Lex said and his warm, loving tone towards the end more than thawed the frost-ridden coldness radiating from the others, at least in my perception.

I looked back at Hassan, who was watching everything with his lips compressed into a tight line and his eyes wide. I knew that he was struggling with himself and that he basically wanted me to stop Jussuf. He was just so terrified and didn't understand where his future was heading. I wasn't going to leave him as lost as I had been. Davis was a good therapist and had given me the right tools.

"Jussuf convinced our parents that he would take you under his wing. He would put you 'on the right track'. Just like he did with me. Even if it was all in my head - which it isn't - doesn't my massive hostility towards him mean that this right track doesn't exist under Jussuf's Masoud's "loving" guidance? You think he's just being an asshole because the upcoming wedding is stressing him out? Or because he's in a lot of annoying and draining technical trouble right now." My grin must have looked devilish and Lex chuckled beside me. Jussuf's hateful look when he realized that all the annoyances like blocked credit cards or tax problems or constantly towed cars weren't strange coincidences. The devil always shat on the biggest pile. Lex and I were those devils. I only wish it had left Jussuf more drained and incapacitated.

"The abuser is trying to undermine you, to make you feel like you're worthless in every way but the one he showes you, that you're not valuable. But I AM valuable even if none of the people here can see it. I'll tell you something, though. Jussuf, perhaps this is also a new realization for you. The abuser is usually chronically insecure himself and afraid of being abandoned. And the only way he can overcome these weaknesses is to make others dependent on him and to control them. This is the only way he can feel better about himself. You don't have to pretend that everything is okay, Hassan. Because it's not. Not for me and not for you."

Hassan swallowed, his voice raspy and venomous but only because all the knowledge was paralyzing him.

"I'm not like that - like you."

"No. You're not. But he wants to push you that far. He's using your feelings of embarrassment and your terror that the people around you, even your own family, will think it's your fault. You are not weak because someone wants to control you. You are weak if you let it happen until something terrible happens. Does something terrible have to happen first, Hassan?"

Our mother opened her mouth, but Jussuf beat her to it.

"Oh Nasser, your therapist wisdom doesn't make them believe your madness," he chortled. But his laughter was a touch too high, too frantic, and now had something desperate about it. And Jasmin's look at him was tinged with something completely new. Maybe it wasn't so new after all. Maybe I was just seeing it for the first time. There was the doubt. There was the horror that couldn't yet be given a name.

"No madness. Although I certainly don't think I'll be recovered for many years to come. The cracks in myself may never heal completely. But I'm working on it. And you? Your façade is getting its own cracks. I can see it in the doubts that flit across the faces of the others here. And then they'll probably do what you're most afraid of. They'll shake you off like the parasite you are."

My mother began to cough. Her lips trembled, wavering between a disbelieving grin and trembling, just as the sounds she made couldn't decide between powerless laughter and gasping tears.

"How can you? How - why does Allah punish us with you? Why me? " Her wet eyes looked at me and although I felt this painful pressure behind my eyes before I started crying myself at the sight, my brain and all its pathetic default reactions crashed at her next sentence.

"You're a demon," she whispered. And that could have been it. She had no bloody idea how RIGHT she was. Not just ONE demon. There were two inside me for the price of one. My - now permanently adopted - gargoyle form fit right in. My mother had set the tone in many things for as long as I could remember. Fuck, probably the decision that Murshid had been allowed to spend time with me as a child had been the last decision that had been taken out of her hands. Today, here - Hila Sharif's word was irrevocable and final. Nobody, NOBODY wanted me here.

A surge of heat wanted to rise outward from my core- not to burn- but to transport upward the certainty that these humans here were SO forgettable, so petty, so impotent even to save themselves. They were UNWORTHY thought this fiber in me and after two shrill guffaws that disturbed me as much as everyone around me, tired despair rose in me instead. I didn't want those other thoughts. Were they mine? Or Fiery's? Were we not one and the same - the entities inside me? How evil, cold-hearted, was I really? Hysteria clawed at my throat, desperate to break out of me with more shrill laughter or sobs. Lexington's painful - really painful - clutch on my shoulder helped find words that were tired but not incoherent.

"A demon - yes. Probably. I am what I had to become. Also because of you. You all have no understanding for my scars and even less for how I got them. For everything I've been through in the last 18 years."

"Oh yes, your ordeal is coming of age!" cried Jussuf, laughing but no one laughed with him. Not this time. And like the common man who saw his cases float away, he babbled mindlessly, hastening the beginning of the rest of his life.

This-," he raised his hands and made quotation marks in the air. "This 'cure for self-discovery' was clearly a waste of money. You're talking just as crazy as before. No amount of moral training is going to help. Nothing. This family is doing well to disown you. But what did your stud call it? A rescue mission. Then go ahead. How are you going to save this poor family from all the good that comes with me? I want to hear the story."

I looked at him wordlessly for a moment before leaning to the side and taking the memory crystal wrapped in its tightly woven cloth with both hands, placing it on the table - within easy reach of everyone - and unwrapping it.

"I'm not going to tell any stories," I said coolly. "I'm going to show you a story. My story. And as you watch, you will understand that all of it is true."

Thanks for reading, Q.T.