Gargoyles are the property of Disney. No copyright 
infringement is 
intended.

I suggest you read my other stories before reading this one, 
but it isn't 
vital to understanding the story.
________

Revelations


The alarm clock woke me.

Refreshed after a whole two hours nap, I mumbled into my 
pillow and slapped at the alarm. Ineffectually. I finally gave in 
and got up, if only to shut the damn thing off. Almost seven. 
*Great.* I had a whole fifteen minutes to get to the meeting. 

I looked out the window on my way to the bathroom. It was 
already getting dark. And we'd probably take a walk through 
the neighborhood after the meeting. I was really beginning to 
think that staying up all last night for that frat party was a bad 
idea.	
					
A whirlwind later and I was dressed, reasonably awake and 
more or less ready. If I could just find my keys... Five minutes 
more and I was officially late for my meeting. It was then I 
remembered I'd lent the car to Marianne... To Hell with it, I 
finally decided. I'm walking. It wasn't far to the meeting house 
anyway and it was fairly warm out. Well, warm for November 
anyway. I just hoped I wouldn't run into one of those - things.

I had joined the Quarrymen on a whim about three months 
ago. Since then I had become more and more convinced that 
the Quarrymen were right. The tales of Gargoyle attacks grew 
by the day. Those monsters had to be dealt with and the 
Quarrymen seemed to be the only ones up to it. The police 
seemed to be spending more time trying to protect them than 
hunting them down. If being safe meant taking matters into 
my own hands, well that seemed fine to me.

I left the apartment and headed out. The meeting house was 
on West 59th, about three or four blocks down so it would 
take me a while to walk it. I sighed. Just *once* I'd like to be 
on time to a meeting. Just *once*.

Trouble came less than three blocks away, in the guise of 
three young men armed with knives. I was walking past an 
alleyway when an arm reached out and grabbed me by the 
coat. I gasped, but another hand covered my mouth and pulled 
me back into the alley. I struggled and tried to pull away, 
clawing at the hand that held me. I heard a muttered curse and 
suddenly I was slammed into the wall. I turned to face 
whoever was behind me, pressing back against the wall to get 
as far away from them as I could. The one closest to me was 
holding his left hand in his right. I could see blood on his 
hands. "Damn bitch," he growled. 

Two other men were there, one of them stepped forward. 
"Hey, chill, Vinnie. The lady didn't mean no harm." He leered 
at me. Didja, Lady?"

My heart was beating so fast I was certain I'd have a heart 
attack. "I - I don't have much money," I barely managed to get 
the words out. Dear God, just let them take the money and go 
away.

"That's all right, darlin'," the second man replied with a smile. 
"I'm sure you got *something* we'd like."

I choked on my own breath with sudden panic. Oh, God no. I 
suddenly lunged for the entrance to the alley screaming at the 
top of my lungs, "Help me! Somebody help!"

I didn't get more than a couple of feet before one of them 
grabbed me and threw me even further back into the alley. I 
fell onto a pile of garbage. "Oh, honey, that wasn't very nice, 
now was it?" He reached down to me and grabbed my purse. 
He pawed through it, grabbing my cellphone and wallet. 
"Thirty-two bucks and change. Not too bad, sweetie." He 
leaned toward me. "Now let's see what else you've got."

I sobbed.

But a sudden growl from the entrance to the alley took their 
attention away from me. "Dave, go see what that was," the 
second guy ordered. "If it's some stray mutt - shoot it."

Dave left and the second guy turned back to me. "Where were 
we?" I braced myself to fight them - and suddenly Dave 
screamed and flew past us.

Shocked, all three of us turned in the direction he had come 
from. I had a horrible feeling that I knew what we would see.

A pair of glowing eyes, followed by another growl confirmed 
my fears. Suddenly the muggers didn't look so bad.

I screamed and tried to get away, scrambling on hands and 
knees. I pressed myself against the wall and huddled into a 
ball, covering my head. I kept my eyes closed trying to 
pretend I couldn't hear the sounds of fighting all around me. 
Please, don't let it see me. Please, please, *please.* The 
fighting stopped rather suddenly and I heard footsteps coming 
toward me. My breath came faster and I huddled into an even 
tighter ball, wishing to God it was one of the muggers.

"Are you all right?" The voice was so soft and gentle it 
shocked me into opening my eyes. I immediately wished I 
hadn't. Right in front of me, less than six feet away was one 
of those monsters. Grotesque and horrible in appearance, it 
was easy to see how dangerous they could be. I could see it's 
sharp fangs and claws even in the dark alley. "Get away," I 
rasped, my throat tightening with fear. "I'll scream. Someone 
will come!"

The monster looked right at me. "I guess you're fine," it said. 
Somewhere in the back of my mind I got the crazy idea that it 
was being sarcastic.

"You brought it here! I'll kill you!" The second mugger was on 
his feet - the gargoyle hadn't killed him? - a gun in his hand. 
He raised the gun, pointed it at me, and fired.

But all I felt was the weight of the gargoyle pushing me to the 
side just as the gun went off. The creature roared and leapt at 
the mugger - who promptly ran off screaming.

The gargoyle stood still in the middle of the alley for a 
moment, then turned back to me. I could see the blood 
covering its left shoulder and running down its arm and chest. 
I stared. It pushed me out of the way? It *took a bullet* to 
protect me? Why? And how the hell was it still standing? It 
should be flat on its back from shock by now.

It seemed to be making sure I was all right.

From down the street I heard shouting. Listening closely, I 
could hear "Monsters" being shouted over and over again. A 
mob would be there in minutes to trap and catch this thing. 
Injured as badly as it was, it would never be able to escape.

Why was that suddenly a bad thing?

It must have heard the shouting too, because it looked back at 
the street. The expression on its face was a little panicked as 
it searched the alley. It flexed its arm and wing experimentally 
and nearly doubled over in pain.

I made up my mind in that instant. For whatever reason, that 
thing had saved my life. There was no way I was going to let it 
die as a result. I pulled myself up off the ground and 
approached it - him. I took his good arm and pulled him to the 
back of the alley. It tried to pull away and I nearly screamed. 
"Trust me," I managed to whisper. A little voice in the back of 
my mind started yelling at me, Why the hell should he listen 
to you? Like you've ever done anything to deserve his trust? If 
this were any other day, you would've been part of that mob. I 
told it to shut up. The gargoyle went along with it though, 
probably because there was no other option. The blood 
covering his arm was thick and dripping onto the ground. If I 
managed to keep the mob away from him, he'd probably die of 
blood loss. "Here," I whispered pushing aside some of the 
cardboard boxes that littered the back of the alley. "Stay here, 
out of sight. "I'll - do something." He nodded, 
eyes wary and glazed with pain.

I heard the voices getting closer. Desperate I tried to think of 
something to do - then it occurred to me. I of all people knew 
how fierce anti-gargoyle feelings were. Hell, I was still trying 
to figure out why I was helping this thing! I could play on 
their fears perfectly.

I ran my hands threw my hair, pulling it into disarray, then ran 
toward the street and started screaming at the top of my lungs. 
"Somebody, help me! It's a monster!" I staggered out of the 
alley, rather convincingly if I do say so myself, and nearly ran 
into John Castaway, leader of the Quarrymen. He grabbed me 
by the shoulders. "Danielle! Where is it?"

I pointed down the street. "It took off after one guy shot it. 
Climbed the side of the building and took off across the 
rooftops."

Castaway motioned to the crowd, most of them Quarrymen, 
and they took of in the direction I had indicated. He laid a 
hand on my shoulder. "Will you be all right, Danielle?"

A month ago his concern would have seemed like a father 
worrying for a child, or a teacher taking care of one of his 
students. Now, it seemed less, somehow. "I'll be fine," I said 
finally. "Just - go get the beast." I waited until he left, then 
ducked back into the alley. The gargoyle was where I had left 
him, but he looked unconscious. No surprise there, 
considering how much blood he had lost, and was still losing. 
I looked at him and wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry. I was 
turning into a regular gargoyle lover, wasn't I? I sighed. Well, 
he *had* saved my life. He could've just ignored the whole 
thing. And he certainly didn't have to take the bullet for me. I 
owed him something for that, didn't I? I shrugged off my coat. 
Underneath I was wearing a flannel shirt over a T-shirt. The 
flannel shirt I removed and pressed it against the injured 
shoulder of the gargoyle. Keeping pressure applied I used the 
arms to wrap it firmly in place. He flinched slightly when the 
flannel first touched the wound, but otherwise remained still. 
He must really been out, I thought as I tightened the knot of 
the sleeves. Oh Jesus, now I was getting worried about it.

I shivered and pulled my coat back on. Now what? I could 
just leave, except then he'd die and I just know I'd blame 
myself for it. I had to though. "Some Quarryman I turned out 
to be, huh?"

"Being a bad Quarryman - ain't exactly - a bad - thing."

I started and stared. "Holy-"

"I'm not - going - to hurt you." The gargoyle was looking right 
at me, black eyes dull, face slightly grimaced from the pain. 
And suddenly, I believed it. Him.

"You won't, will you?" I asked softly. "Rest. Sleep. I'm going 
to get help."

"Watch - the muggers."

*Oh my God.* I had completely forgotten the three muggers 
who had been the cause of this whole thing. The two the 
gargoyle had knocked out, Dave and Vinnie I believe, were 
still unconscious, sprawled against the wall. I couldn't leave 
them like this; when they woke they'd be royally pissed off 
and there was no way I'd be able to protect myself, let alone 
the gargoyle. As I stared at them I had a sudden stroke of 
genius. I could deal with them easily enough. And I was going 
to enjoy it.

***

It didn't take to long to deal with them, maybe five minutes, 
but I still felt I was taking too much time. After a moment, I 
found my purse and cellphone, remarkably undamaged, where 
they had been dropped. I dialed hurriedly, waiting impatiently 
until someone finally answered "New York Police 
Department. 27th Precinct. May I help you?"

"I need to speak with Detective Maza. Please," I added, "it's 
an emergency."

"Just a moment." He put me on hold. Country music. Oh, this 
day just kept getting better and better...

It only took a moment before a woman picked up. "Maza."

I took a deep breath. "Is this Elisa Maza?"

"Yes. Is there something I can do for you?"

"Is it true you're a friend of the gargoyles?"

Her tone was immediately wary. "Who is this?"

"My name is Danielle Roberts. And I won't tell you any more 
until I know the truth. Are you their friend?"

She paused and I could almost hear her working this through 
in her head. I didn't blame her. I knew damned well just how 
difficult the Quarrymen were making her life. Ever since that 
fiasco back in '96 when they actually chased her half-way 
across town in a firefight, she'd been on their hit list. *Our* 
hit list.

I suddenly felt unbelievably guilty.

"Yes." Apparently Maza had decided to take the chance. 

"Thank God. You were my only hope. I was mugged and a 
gargoyle saved me, but he was injured - shot. I don't know 
what to do, who else to call."

"Where are you?" She was worried now. I heard someone ask 
her what was wrong.

"West 59th. In the alley next to the brownstone building. 
There's a row of payphones right across the street."	

"I'll be right there, Danielle. Don't go anywhere, okay?"

"Detective," I said hurriedly. "One more thing. Two of the 
muggers are still here."

"Are you in danger?"

"I don't think so. They're unconscious and I, um, locked them 
up, but they could wake up any minute now." I smirked 
slightly. I'd like to see them get out of that dumpster, though.

"I'll hurry. And Danielle?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

I stared at the sky above me. Full moon. "He saved my life."

Her voice was suddenly soft and understanding. "Believe me, 
I understand. I'll see you in five minutes." She hung up.

I switched off the cell phone and slid down the wall until I 
was sitting on the ground, knees drawn up against my chest. 
For the first time I took a really good look at the gargoyle 
who had saved my life.  

He was young, was the first impression I got. About six feet 
or so, with skin that was a dark reddish-brown color and a 
mane of white hair. He had a - a beak, I guess was the right 
word for it. But it was nowhere near as frightening or strange 
as it had seemed only twenty minutes ago. His wings were 
long and smooth, too small for flying though. They must 
glide, then, I thought absently. I thought back trying to 
remember if I'd ever seen the gargoyles flying on a news 
broadcast or something. 

And I suddenly realized I had seen him before.

It was a little less than two years ago, during the mayoral race. 
One of the candidates, Doyle I think, had promised to rid the 
city of gargoyles. To prove he was serious he had captured a 
gargoyle and put it on display at one of his speeches. It had 
later been discovered that Doyle was a criminal who was 
trying to win the election by blaming the gargoyles for 
kidnapping some billionaire's baby. It had backfired royally. 
Doyle was arrested and the kid had ended up being rescued 
by the gargoyle Doyle had captured. It had caused one hell of 
a controversy, mainly because the whole thing had occurred 
on national television.

This gargoyle had been there. He hadn't been the one 
captured, that had been a small green one. He had arrived 
toward the end, just as Doyle's plot was exposed. Him and a 
large blue gargoyle. The little green one had probably been a 
friend or something. Maybe a brother. I wondered how their 
family system worked.

Either way, I had to give him a lot of credit. After that a lot of 
people so fed up they would have just said 'screw it' and left 
Doyle and the billionaire to fight it out amongst themselves. 
These guys were still out there helping people, if what had 
happened tonight was any indication. I wondered why they 
did it. Honor? Where they on a crusade to bring justice to the 
streets of New York? Some misguided sense of protectiveness 
towards us? After everything the people of this city had done 
to them you'd think they'd pack up and move to Jersey.

I caught myself. Who was I to talk? I was a Quarryman for 
God's sake! I was a member of the group that caused these 
guys and their friends constant grief. Jesus, three months ago 
we even tried to smash them while they slept! I had no right to 
judge anyone. 'Except myself,' I thought, hand going to the 
gold chain around my neck. It was the symbol of the 
Quarrymen, a hammer inside a gold ring. I had received it 
when I first joined the group. It had been a Christmas gift 
from another member who had been an old friend. That same 
friend had spent the last three months in prison after the raid 
on the Xanatos building.

Why was I suddenly seeing everything in a different light?

The sound of squealing tires distracted me. I looked up as a 
red convertible slammed to a stop in front of the alley. The 
doors opened and a black woman and a man with red hair got 
out. "Danielle?" The woman called.

'This must be Maza,' I thought. She wasn't kidding when she'd 
said she would hurry. It had been all of five minutes since I'd 
called her. "Detective Maza? I'm over here."

"Where is he?" Maza demanded. She spotted him herself 
before I had a chance to reply. "Oh God." She rushed to his 
side. "Brooklyn? Brooklyn, can you hear me?" She checked 
the would, grimacing slightly. "What happened?"

I recounted the whole story, purposefully neglecting to 
mention where I had been going when it all started. As I 
spoke Maza carefully bandaged the gargoyle's shoulder. By 
the time I'd finished she had as well and she carefully lifted 
the gargoyle in her arms. "Geez, these guys are heavy," She 
muttered. "Gotta go on a diet, Brook."

The man with her grinned. "Yeah right. Maybe you're just 
getting out of shape. Imagine if it had been Broadway."

"Then you'd be carrying him," Maza retorted. "I'm gonna get 
him into the car. You deal with her." She jerked her head at 
me.

The man smiled at me. "Danielle Roberts? My name is 
Matthew Bluestone. I'm Detective Maza's partner. You said 
two of the muggers were still here?"

"Yeah. In there." He followed the finger I pointed. "In the 
trash bin?"

"I didn't know what else to do with them," I said defensively. 
"There was no rope and if they'd woken up they could've made 
a lot of trouble for both of us. So I dumped them in there and 
used that piece of wood to wedge it shut in case they came 
too in there."

He smiled appreciatively. "Good idea, Ms. Roberts. Hey, 
Elisa!"

"What?"

"Call for a patrol car to come get these guys." He pulled the 
top of the bin open, handcuffs in one hand.

"Why?" Detective Maza appeared at his side. I nearly jumped. 
"We can take them in." 

"Normally, yes. "However, do you really want to explain to 
everyone at the station why an unconscious gargoyle is in the 
back of your car? And if we drop Brooklyn off first there's 
going to be a time-discrepancy. We can't afford that. You take 
Brooklyn home and let me worry about these guys. Besides," 
he added as he pulled on of the muggers out, "do you really 
want these guys anywhere near him?" He dropped the guy on 
the ground.

"You're right." Maza reached over and cuffed the guy's hands. 
"Which one of them is the one who shot Brooklyn?"

It took a second to realize she was speaking to me. "Neither," 
I said. "He got away."

Maza glowered. "I don't suppose you got a good look at him."

"I can give you a pretty good description," I replied.

"Good. That'll give Lexington and Broadway something to do 
for the next few nights." She stood. "I'll call for a patrol car 
and take Brooklyn home. You can handle all this?"

"Don't worry about us," Bluestone replied cheerfully. Get the 
kid home and I'll join you as soon as I can."

Maza nodded and offered me her hand. "Thank you, Danielle. 
I owe you one."

Bluestone watched his partner leave. "She means it, too. You 
made some strong allies today."

"You mean the gargoyles?" I asked.

"Yeah." His eyes narrowed slightly and he reached for me. I 
didn't have time to move before he hooked his fingers through 
my necklace. "Although you might get along better if they 
never saw this."

"I think," I said softly, "that I won't be needing that much 
longer."

He smiled. "Good. Now," he said pulling out a small 
notebook, "before that patrol car gets here, let's get our stories 
straight."

***

It took me two weeks. 14 days of soul-searching and decision 
making. And when I finally made up my mind, it felt good.

I was moving out of my apartment and into a place on the 
other side of Central Park in West 106th. Moving was 
probably unnecessary, but it felt right. Besides, the 
Quarrymen knew where I lived.

Only on thing was left for me to do. On the floor in the center 
of my soon-to-be empty apartment sat a small cardboard box. 
Into this I placed my Quarrymen uniform and the energy 
charged hammer. From the dresser I took an envelope. Several 
sheets of paper lay next to it; I folded them and put them in 
the envelope. I sealed it and across the front I wrote the name 
I'd heard Elisa Maza call the young gargoyle: "Brooklyn."

I taped the envelope to the box. I'd drop it off at the 27th 
precinct when I headed out to my new apartment. I was sure 
Detectives Maza and Bluestone would know how to get it to 
the gargoyle. I hoped he would understand why I was sending 
him these things and not think it an insult. I had to tell 
someone what had happened to me that night, how much it 
had changed me, and I didn't know any humans who would 
understand.

I pulled a slightly rumpled business card out of my pocket. 
People for Interspecies Tolerance. It was time for a change.
	
	




End? Not the way my mind works…