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Crimson Claws

40

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En-25.1. grumbled as Brentwood turned off the hairdryer and brushed through her hair a few more times - getting stuck as usual and ripping out a few strands. Just because it didn't hurt much didn't mean it felt good - on the other hand, it was Brentwood and any caring from him, even rough treatment, was affection that made the new clone happy.

"Been thinking ," Brentwood said as he pulled up her boxer shorts while she wormed her arms into the T-shirt. She was distracted by the TV and was easy to handle and not very wiggly.

"Yeah?"

"Yes. En-25.1. too complicated. You now Enya." She looked at him wide-eyed and blinked uncomprehendingly. He smiled and for the first time it didn't feel wrong towards her because he was smart, had thought a lot, had even researched and knew it was a smart choice.

"En-ya?" she asked

"Yes. Your name," he said smugly and bared a fang, which she mimicked as a reflex.

"Got name. Different names."

"So? Which one?"

"Clone. And girl. And back-up. Dirty Vessel..."

Brentwood shook his head in exasperation. "Those not NAMES! Those descriptions of WHAT you are. But not names."

"Who decides what description and what's name?"

Brentwood thought about it for a moment. Then he got annoyed and shrugged his shoulders.

"Thailog and Demona gave me names because they came first. I give you name because I was there first. I decided."

"Decided for me how?"

Brentwood walked across the room and pulled one of the books out of a pile.

In the few weeks he had spent in the labyrinth with his brothers, there had been a lot to learn. His first lesson had been to endure the stares of so many people - fleeting and unthreatening as they had been. He had never wanted to be near humans. Perhaps his brothers and Delilah had gotten used to living among them by now, but he had always preferred to seek contact with very few people. Anything else quickly overwhelmed him.

The next lesson had been to do even one handshake without Thailog's command - which had been difficult for everyone. Obey Thailog - that was part of his DNA and he would never be able to overcome it, let alone want to. Thailog was his master, his father, probably more than Sevarius, because he had only been created by Thailog's order. Thailog was clever and strong and powerful and one day this world would be his.

And then his brothers would realize how stupid they had been to stay in the labyrinth and try to please humans. Brentwood felt things for his master that he could not describe, partly because he had no words for these feelings and if he had, they would have needed an explanation. But he was proud of his first truly independent decision - to join him. THAT had been Brentwood's sole will, even if from the outside it looked like he had given in to his prime directive. It was enough for Brent to know that it had nothing to do with his imprint.

But one thing he had started to learn in the labyrinth was reading. He had just finished the alphabet. A - in the children's book next to the picture of an apple. B- in the children's book next to a ball. Yes - it was really easy. More so for him than for his siblings, as he had quickly realized that they found it harder to remember things when the pictures of the letters popped into his head whenever he needed them. That was enough for him. Enough to teach himself to read. No short words - real sentences! Short ones first - and longer ones later. Only to realize that he didn't understand them. Not understanding the meaning of these sentences when he had nothing to link the words to an image in his head.

That's why he had been collecting books for years. He found them in the gutter, he took them from roadside donation boxes, he stole them from houses - in the beginning preferably from children's rooms and nowadays from libraries - the worst secured places in America.

Thailog and Sevarius had called him what? A book hoarder. He had looked up what that was in the youth dictionary. He was not a hoarder. He was quite tidy when it came to storing his books. His fathers had let him be, knowing that he would leave them alone when they sent him to his books, his music and his television. So now he had a library. A library of his own. Not only with children's books but also with adult books. A Tale of Two Cities, Huckleberry Finn, even The Great Gatsby or some works by Truman Capote. Some words hurt him because they were so complicated. But he understood everything in them. And he wasn't afraid to finally help another, much dumber being with his immense knowledge (he had no doubt that he was the smartest of his brothers).

The book now was one of the first he had gathered here. Actually far too old for its contents, he had taken it with him because it reminded him of his first book in the labyrinth. He flipped through a few pages and the girl shifted her weight on the mattress that had been his but now somehow belonged to both of them even in his mind, leaning over him, her hair flowing around his shoulders. He felt her warm body against his shoulder and her breath on his hands, turning the pages to the down-turned sounds of fake copulating humans on TV.

"First two letters already there. E and N. Then I made numbers into letters - easy. Look here."

He had reached the end of the book and tapped on a large yellow letter. A Y. Next to it were words like Youth or Yoghurth and the matching pictures. He tapped the top of the page where the number for the letter was written - 25. Then Brentwood turned to the first page with the A for apple or ant and there in the corner was a 1.

"Enya," he said and the girl sucked in her breath.

"Wow," she mumbled like she had often heard people do on TV. "Brentwood so smart. Brentwood smartest."

"And you smart because you know," he said with uninhibited pride and arrogance.

Enya rubbed her head against his, then turned her attention back to the TV. Brentwood knew she was pleased with her fantastic new name, she just didn't have a concept for please and thank you yet and it probably wasn't on Sevarius' to-imprint list.

He set about putting her non-slip socks on his newly named fledling - a NEW condition from the doctor because Enya had already fallen several times because slippery steps or floors were not her friends.

He noticed her looking at the small TV in the attic with a quizzical frown.

"What?" he asked, glancing at what the humans were playing with indifference. It had taken forever to explain to Enya that no, there were no little people in the TV to pry out of the device to see what they might taste like.

"What they are doing? Hurting each other?" she asked with narrowed eyes as if a glare would make the little humans explain themselves.

Brentwood looked at the rhythmically moving bodies on the night program of one of the pay channels. Yes - that's what it looked like. It sounded like they were in pain. Both of them. He hadn't had a clue the first time either.

To the groans and sounds of flesh slapping together, he stood up and wandered again to his piles of books.

He searched for a few moments - then he found what he was looking for and pulled from the shelf one of the medicine books he had once found on a bulky waste day outside the hospital. Enya looked at him when he came back with a grin.

He sat down opposite Enya without taking away her view of the flickering screen and leafed through the book. Bones first. No, bones didn't help because there were no bones in this places. Enya had already lost interest, probably because the pictures in this book weren't simple and colorful enough) and now looked back at the TV where everyone was dressed again. Brentwood knew these movies. Short scenes with people dressed before everyone took their clothes off again. He didn't understand why these dress scenes were in the movies.

"Enya- look," he said and put the book on her lap. The girl looked at the open page, which was dominated by two pictures. Not photos, but drawings. On one page, a male human without clothes. On the other page, a female. Brentwood pointed at the man, his claw tapping the paper. "People naked means sex."

"Sex?" she repeated, bemused. Neither she nor he had any trouble with the short word.

There were many words for it, all longer, but sex was good enough to cover everything.

"Sex not fight ... Mostly," he explained, feeling so very smart. Enya looked back at the TV where one human was climbing over another human again. The smaller human was screaming.

"No fighting?" she asked incredulously.

"Sounds are deceptive. Not sounds of pain. But ..." he thought for a moment. "But sex noises. Sex noises because it feels good."

"What? What feels good?"

"Sex," he said, shrugging his shoulders.

"Feels good ... like eating?" Enya asked and Brentwood couldn't say anything back. It wasn't like eating.

"Humans slap," Enya said with a furrowed brow and intrigued face. There was a slap as a hand met a bare butt.

"Sometimes it's part of it," Brent said, remembering many movies he'd seen that in.

"Is part of sex?"

"Maybe. But it's part of porn. Most of the time."

"What porn?"

"That." He pointed at the TV. "Movie with sex is porn."

"Why movie for that?"

"For fun. People watch, people imitate. With another person or with themselves. "

Enya blinked and looked at him like she didn't believe him.

"Themselves?"

"With hands. Touching each other. Here. He pointed at the picture of the man, at the implied hanging flap of flesh between his legs."

"I didn't have," Enya said, and Brentwood laughed. She was so silly. Kind of cute. Silly and dumb. But he'd been stupid once, too.

His claw traveled from side to side.

"Man grab cock. You have no cock. You woman. Woman has another part to touch. But it works too - I think. Not pumping but uhm rubbing. It's called ... uhhh ... it's called mas-stur-ba-tion." He sighed with relief and pride that he had managed to get this difficult word out. He looked around. No Thailog and no Servarius to praise him. Whenever he did something great, no one was there.

"How can that-" she pointed at the television "-and rubbing both feel good?"

Brentwood thought about it. He had no experience with sex between two humans. It had never occurred to him to do this to a human, nor to a gargoyle - like his sister Delilah. It was kind of gross and he was sure something was wrong with Goliath because he must like it with Detective Eliza.

But he had experience with touching himself. The first time he'd had that urge, he'd only been with Thailog for a few weeks and hadn't known why his cock had suddenly been hard in his loincloth. As always before Brentwood had learned that he simply had to answer some questions for himself, search for answers himself, he had gone to his master and asked. Thailog had looked at him in horror, laughed and said that he had to take care of it himself and, above all, on his own. With his hands. He had made a strange pumping motion with his hands and Brent had later copied this movement on his own. Which had been ineffective. Until he had taken off his loincloth and placed his hands directly on the hard, throbbing part of him. And it had really hurt until he'd understood that he needed to keep his claws out of it.

Something moist like cream or oil was a game changer. And when he had come for the first time - oh what a fantastic feeling. Like a pressure was lifted from him that he hadn't even known had been there. Explosions in his head and his groin. But this stuff that had come out of him! White and sticky and warm. He had thought it was a different kind of blood. He had thought he was hurt, even though it had felt good to drain that white stuff - which of course he now knew what it was. That was when he had started to cry - knowing that he should not come to his master with it. He had curled up and waited to die until he had petrified. Only when he woke up - just as healthy as ever - had he realized that maybe this white stuff was part of it when you did it. Masturbating. He had learned the rest from porn, even if it didn't really captivate him, only with humans in it.

Thailog could never know that Brentwood was replaying images of him in his head when he jerked off. When he imagined Thailog moaning under him like the woman in the movie. That alone was why he sometimes watched such movies. It was ridiculous considering the massive difference in height between him and Thailog - but they were just thoughts. They didn't hurt anyone.

"You like that, you horny little cunt, huh?" huffed the man on TV, barely audible over the turned down sound as he slapped her ass again.

Enya clapped her hands loudly to reproduce the sound as she almost perfectly mimicked that gruff panting voice. "You like that, you horny little cunt, huh?" Brentwood laughed out loud and Enya laughed too.

"You're good at that!" he praised, grinning broadly, pretty sure voice impersonation had been in Enya's programming. Enya raised her head proudly.

"Oi, you're so big, who would have thought that the post office would deliver such large packages!" the woman moaned and Brentwood mimicked her in a shrill voice that made them both burst into giggles again.

They continued to fool around with some of the ridiculous lines of dialog, but Enya became visibly more serious, distracted and restless. She was rubbing her bare legs and although she was looking at the TV again, she seemed unfocused.

"What now?" Brent asked because Enya was really whimsical tonight.

"Weird," the girl said. "Weird feeling."

Brentwood scratched his head, looked to her at the flickering screen. Before he realized it.

"Maybe horny."

"Horny?"

"About the movie. You human. So maybe horny because of movies with people."

"How do I know?"

Brentwood reached for Enya's crotch where she sat cross-legged. Just his fingers, not letting his claws damage the fabric of her boxers. She had no cock, but he could tell how tender and certainly sensitive the skin must be there. He rubbed his fingers over that spot, moist and warm, and Enya gasped, almost falling forward, bracing herself on both his shoulders to stay still.

"You okay?" he asked.

Enya's eyes were tightly shut. Everything about her face looked pinched.

Brentwood realized that he was touching a female for the first time. Probably the most sensitive parts of a female because human females like gargoyles always covered this area.

"I continue?" he asked and Enya nodded with hurried, choppy movements. He started rubbing her down there again. He wasn't quite sure how women masturbated, this lesson was always neglected in porn and he had never been interested in it. But the way Enya reacted, he didn't seem to do it badly. She had started to breathe hard and was much wetter than before - which was probably a good thing, he had picked that up from the movies. The fabric of her boxer shorts was at least wet. She was taller than him and had to bend over a little to cling to him, but he couldn't say that he really minded her doing it. Her hair flowed over him again and if he closed his eyes, imagining her voice deeper and more melodic and her hair not wavy but straight, he could perhaps imagine that maybe Thailog was facing him.

"Need..." she croaked softly and a little desperately.

Brentwood rolled his eyes.

"What?" he asked, a little annoyed. He did his best here!

"A bit hurt?" she asked, and it wasn't clear from her words whether she was asking him or herself. Brentwood reached around her and pinched her butt hard with his claws. Suddenly Enya whimpered and her whole body shook, he could almost feel her heartbeat and a strange twitching of her muscles on his fingertips at her entrance. Brent paused as Enya's grip on his neck became shaky but almost painful. Another whimper.

"Feeling bad?" he asked worriedly. He hadn't meant to hurt her. It never hurt him. Not anymore.

And the girl looked at him with wide eyes (eyes that frightened him because they didn't really look different but somehow HE saw them differently. Never again, NEVER AGAIN would they remind him of Doctor Sevarius because they were completely different). Enya thought about it for a moment with her lips clenched. And then shook her head.

"Pain no. Strange."

She smiled and with that smile, his cock throbbed as if his heart was in it and not higher like in the pictures in the book. The room and Enya smelled of sex, not really good but ... not bad either. He had only thought about Thailog for a few seconds but now he was already reacting. When he took his hand off the soaked fabric covering her crotch and looked at it, it was his turn to tilt his head in contemplation.

"Not white," he stated with scientific interest.

Enya groped herself between her legs, looking at her own hand as she pulled it back and it glistened a little wet.

"Why wet?" she asked, eyes widening in horror. "Me defective? Me broken?"

Brentwood smelled the moisture on his hand. Licked it. It hardly tasted of anything and didn't smell foul. No urine.

"Not broken. Don't worry," he said, patting her cheek as Thailog had sometimes done to him. "Only mine is white. Yours isn't. Maybe normal."

She looked down at him for the first time, less fearful now and more curious. "Yours white?"

"Yes."

"Show," she said, placing her hand over the bulge in his loincloth.

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Maggie joined Erin on the couch in Derek's office, where her husband was doing tax stuff with Delilah. It sounded boring - and it was - but strangely, Delilah was extremely good with numbers and accounting. Thomas was out tonight with Doc Fran at a concert in Central Park. Benny was God knows where but no matter what, he could take care of himself (more with his pleasant nature than brute strength). Aby lay in her baby crib and slept like only babies could sleep and Erin loitered around the adults just for reasons and lowered her tablet that she was probably reading smutty fanfiction on when Maggie sighed.

"Weren't you going to get Claw?"

Maggie looked at her like she had no idea what she was talking about. She seemed a little flustered.

"... for... the monthly kitchen bills? For what we don't get as donations from the food bank or the supermarkets?" she specified. Maggie blinked, looked at her husband and Delilah, who had both raised their heads.

"He was... busy. I mean, he was asleep. Or no, busy. And he came- so he's close, COMING- Oh man, UHHHH," she groaned, rubbing both hands over her furry face.

"Are you okay, Maggie? You're a little pale around your nose," Derek said, she heard his chair roll and not five seconds later, he had knelt down in front of her, taken her hands and asked for eye contact with that soft concerned expression she SO loved and that he basically put on just for her. She rubbed her nose (because her fur was thinner there and you could really see how distressed she was) and smiled broadly.

"I don't know why I'm acting like this. I mean, he's more than an adult man andandand he doesn't have to be celibate and if he had said something in the last ten years - I mean, there are some people who would be open to it and I - we would have helped him make a better decision. And of course he can make decisions for himself, I'm not his mom and I think I need a chamomile tea!"

"Is this about Claw sleeping with Nora?" Delilah asked, tilting her head as she pondered and generally speechless horror reigned. "Or her with him?" she corrected, then nodded because for some reason that described what was going on better.

Then she noticed that everyone was staring at her. Sometimes people (former humans) were so incomprehensible to her. She had been programmed to be much smarter than her brothers, but human values were kind of weird.

"Was that a secret? Gargoyle noses are better than yours, I guess. They smell like each other. What's the problem?"

"Is that true? Urrrrrghhh, no. Just ... No! Claw and Nora?" Erin asked in breathless horror and jumped up. "This can't be happening! How can he be so stupid!?"

"Why not?" asked Delilah, eager to explore this new aspect of human outrage. "As Maggie said; Claw is an adult. Nora Sykes is an adult. Consensual adult sex is good. And fun. Ideally. People like to have fun and sex is fun. I'm glad they're both getting some."

Erin gasped and started pacing around the room. "Because-" she gasped. "Nora Sykes is a horrible person, completely horrible. That's why she's a bad choice for ... fun. Uncle Claw is smarter than that, why is he sleeping with her? Or she with him? I mean, she cringes at the sight of mutants all the time."

"She cringed all the time. Not anymore," Derek commented, having that grumpy worry frown again. "You sure they have that kind of relationship now? I mean, have you ... seen it? Maybe- god, I don't want to say anything that gives me a mental movie."

"IT?" Maggie asked, puffing. "No, Derek, I didn't see it. I knocked on Claw's door and was about to leave, then Nora opens. And she only had a blanket around her. And behind her- on the bed was Claw and-"

"Maybe she killed him!" Erin shouted as if that was the better option and threw her hands up in the air.

"Shh!" everyone hissed at the same time because the baby was twitching in her sleep and frowning like her dad. Erin went over to her and started gently rocking the baby's carrier.

-" and he breathed and stirred and I stuttered out what I wanted. Nora turned to Claw and informed him, he grumbled, giving a thumbs up, I don't think he was awake enough to fully realize I was there. They were clearly sharing a bed. Without clothes. And it smelled... like that smell," she said with her ears back and if she hadn't been covered in fur she would have blushed at the thought. That wasn't her theme. She was a small-town girl from Ohio who used to think you got pregnant if you used the same washcloth for intimate washing that a man had used earlier.

"Can someone please clarify the issue for me," Delilah asked, laughably polite because she still didn't understand. She enjoyed sexual intercourse and not just because she had been made that way by Thailog. She enjoyed the touch and the hands and tongues and everything else from Malibu, Burbank and Hollywood. It wasn't always easy to coordinate all the limbs but in the end everyone got their fill. But it sounded like there were only Nora and Claw involved and that was organizationally manageable.

"Is this about Nora being human and Claw not?"

"No, no, Honey," Maggie said, smiling sweetly, and Delilah smiled back because she liked it when Maggie talked to her like a mom. She kind of was to the clones.

"Erin - and we're all worried because Nora Sykes may have her good sides - but she doesn't really seem like a good match for Claw. It's not about her being human. Not at all. After all, there are no other mutants but us... As far as we know. And Claw never seemed to miss intimacy either. We thought that if Claw ever decided to get involved with someone like that, it would be with someone-"

- not a totally asocial and mentally ill a-hole?" suggested Erin from the corner.

"More stable, I meant to say," sighed Maggie.

"Oh soooo. You have a problem with it because you think it's not just fun sex but mate sex," Delilah grinned, thinking she got it. "You don't like Nora Sykes and you don't want her to be Claws mate because then she'd stay here. Forever."

"God, please dear God," Erin moaned.

"I wouldn't put it like that," Derek mumbled.

"We might just be worried that Claw will get involved in something that will cause him grief. We don't want him to get hurt," Maggie stated, wincing at the sound of someone clearing their throat from the doorway.

Where Claw was standing. With his ears back and a hard look on his face. His fur was still a little disheveled and damp from where he had probably washed himself quickly. Still ... he looked like someone who'd had sex.

Maggie jumped up.

"Claw! I didn't mean - so no one's forbidding you and Nora - whatever you have. We're just worried."

Thankfully, Claw's expression melted into something much warmer before he nodded and walked with Maggie to the couch where he and she sat down. Because sign language wasn't always the perfect way to express everything, he grabbed his tablet. The machine spoke the typed words as soon as he tapped send.

"Thank you for your concern. Thank you for looking out for me. I know Nora has a lot of problems. And causes them. Maybe that's why I like her. Because I like to take care of people. But I'm not completely naive. I don't get involved in something where I realize there's no hope. But I have hope for Nora. She has warmth in her that no one sees. She's quirky and feisty and entertaining and funny in a non-mean way when she's feeling comfortable. I like her rambling and her inner restlessness, which turns into deep concentration when she's at the sewing machine. She is so full of energy - I like that even if she has sometimes expressed this energy in violence. Do you notice that this has improved a lot?"

"Yes! Really. I think ..." Delilah murmured thoughtfully before nodding. "I think I quite like her. She's an interesting human specimen and not as stupid as she seems. And right now- my mates are sitting in the atrium playing cards with the labyrinth dwellers- all three of them, together. Without worrying about our egg, which lies safe and sound in the chamber that used to house weapons. That's Nora's doing."

"Thank yor, Delilah. Jeah. She's Ghost Mimi- she CAN be nice. She needs people who are nice to her so that she can show kindness. She may not deserve this benefit of the doubt, but she needs it- I give it to her when no one else will. I like her. I don't know where this is going - or not going. But right now I know I like her. A little more every day."

"Can be nice. If she feels like it and her pills are the right dose," Erin bitched and everyone looked at her.

"Sorry," she mumbled with her head literally tucked in. "I'm just worried. What Maggie said."

"Nora and I aren't together. So- I don't think we are. She likes me enough to sleep with me and I like her enough. And other than that, we're nice to each other. And it's pretty good. It really is."

"We don't need details," Derek grumbled, and Claw chuckled at his dry demeanor.

"Do you love her?" Delilah asked, her eyes big and now pierced with stares, but not cowering like Erin. "I mean, in human movies, romance movies. It's all good as long as the main characters love each other. Do you love her? Does she love you?"

Claw's gulping was extremely loud in the late-night office. Everyone gave the tiger mutant, who was quiet even without being mute, time to get a grip on his embarassment and organize his thoughts.

"I think ... I could. At some point. Does that make sense? Does that make me stupid or an asshole?"

"No! No Claw you're... Neither," Maggie said meekly, rubbing his bicep.

"I like Nora. I know she's trouble, and maybe it'll never stop, even with the best meds. Or maybe her condition will get worse or she'll dump what's with us as soon as she can get out of here completely..."

"I mean, she keeps leaving during the day without telling anyone where. She's already not particularly on board with living underground and being so communal," Erin said.

"And can you blame her? No one would live here if they had a better choice," Claw nodded sadly without seeing Derek and Maggie exchange glances.

"You won't be mad at me if me and Nora-. So if we both just see where this goes? If you're all against it, then-."

"No! No one is angry with you or ever will be. We're worried. But hey, it's normal in a family," Maggie assured him, hugging Claw, who stiffened a little at first for fear of rejection but then hugged her back.

"And about Nora. We'll just take each day as it comes. And we'll see how serious she is about you. But I'm telling you, if you put your trust and your heart into Project Nora and she totally blows it Sykes-style, she's in deep and dirty trouble with all of us," Derek said in his leader's voice.

Claw huffed his feline laugh, hugging Derek so hard that he lifted him off the ground, leaving him up there for a bit for everyone's amusement, making everyone laugh, even Erin, who still looked doubtful.

Claw then pulled her into a gentler hug to reassure her that he would take care of whatever. He knew Erin experienced bad things herself and he loved that they all cared about him. He wouldn't let them down by mindlessly rushing into something that would hurt others and make him feel guilty. Not like with Fang back then. He could have nipped his attempt to seize power in the labyrinth in the bud the moment he found the weapons. He hadn't done it for fear of upsetting him and getting a beating or worse - losing him as a "friend" and anchor. That was the only reason he had stuck with him. He had never been a friend. And the worst person for an anchor. That wouldn't happen with Nora. He was sure of that.

Her new project alone, that she wanted to sew something nice for everyone for the ball next month, was amazing. What a surprise! THAT was the side of Nora that everyone should see! Okay, he had to retrieve Xanatos' card from its hiding place because she must buy material from an extremely well-stocked cheap fabric store in New Jersey, but Nora hadn't even been around to see him dug it out and now the card was back in the same safe place. It had been the most exhausting day for him in 10 years but Nora's big smile was worth exposing himself to the stares of so many people outside and shuffling around the warehouses behind her for 8 hours of his day while she shoptalked with employees and other shoppers about 1001 fabrics, patterns and designs - she had looked so happy). And it was for the community. What was 2000 dollars when there were millions and millions on the card?

I'm sure I'll feel terrible for this first part of the chapter at some point. At some point when my therapies work. Like, really terrible. Like: guided kindergarteners in playing VERY explicit Uncle Doctor and thought - yep- all natural here- carry on kids. You guys have it all covered.

And if Brentwood were the last sex and health instructor in the world, he shouldn't be consulted - ever. Can... can someone please stop them? Quick please. Mom also said to stop sticking your dick in the vacuum cleaner! (wrong movie - i'm silly, d'ont mind me, too much easter chocolate in my system).

Thanks for reading, Q.T.