Brooklyn shares a story about his first time.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction. I do not own the characters of the series Gargoyles or the world they live in. They are used here without the knowledge or consent of their owners, Disney and Buena Vista. I mean no harm. I just like the show enough that the characters live on in my imagination.
There's an old saw about how you don't know a man until you've walked a mile in his shoes. Or a gargoyle, until you've flown a patrol on his wings. So here it goes. I've tried to step into the mind of Brooklyn. He shares a story about himself, in his own words. Something no one else knows. I rate this one as PG-13 to R for sexual content and a very small amount of profanity. This takes place sometime after the Labyrinth is established. As always, feedback is welcomed and appreciated.
My name is Brooklyn. I'm a gargoyle. My clan lives in Manhattan, though we come from Scotland. It's a long story, but we basically were put to sleep by a spell in the tenth century and woke up in the twentieth. Of course, a lot of things have changed in a thousand years. There's a lot more humans than we ever dreamed, and a only a few of us gargoyles left.
I'm not the biggest or the strongest. That would be our leader, Goliath, but I am his second in command. I'm pretty tight with my rookery brothers, Lexington and Broadway, but sometimes I need to be alone. I was alone the night I met Her.
It was a night in late autumn, though it's hard to tell in this city where there are so few trees and plants to show the changing of seasons. I was patrolling a section of the city know for its gang activities. I came across a group of young humans terrorizing another human, a young man. I swooped down on them to frighten them away, but they fought back.
I didn't see which one it was, but one of them hit me with a length of chain that got tangled with my left wing. I landed hard, but I was O.K. Then it was fighting hand to hand (or talon). I was holding my own when another group of humans, a rival gang, showed up. The fight became a three-way battle with me caught in the middle.
The first gang beat off the second one, and then they all turned their attention on me. I was tired and banged up. Even though I'm stronger than any one human, I'm not invincible. I'd had enough and decided to retreat. I climbed up the nearest fire escape.
Several members of the gang began to follow me. One of the ones on the ground had a gun and he started to shoot at me. I leapt across the alleyway to another building, but not fast enough. I was hit. A nice big hole in my thigh started to ooze blood and it didn't feel all that pleasant either. I limped across the roof as fast as I could and found another fire escape. I started to climb down, but I could see more gang members below. I stopped, trying to figure out what to do.
Why didn't I just glide away? The bullet wound was bleeding a lot and I felt pretty woozy. Plus the winds weren't good for gliding. I'd probably crash right at their feet. I was still trying to come up with a plan when someone opened the window behind me.
"Psst! In here!" I turned to find myself face to face with a dark-haired woman. I caught a flash of dark eyes as she motioned me in. I didn't stop to ask questions, I climbed right in. As soon as I was through, she closed the window and locked it. Then she drew the curtains shut. Even with my gargoyle vision, the room was dark, but I thought I could make out the shapes of a couch and chair. A living room? She lit a candle and led me to another room.
"Come on, follow me. We need to get away from the windows, just in case."
"Thanks, you may have just saved my life." It was true. I wasn't in any shape to fight. With that bullet wound, I'd be lucky if I didn't pass out. We passed through a door into a bedroom, she set the candle on a table and closed the door behind her. Then she took a good look at me.
"Yeah. They shot me." Not exactly snappy repartee I know, but that blood was coming from somewhere, most likely my brain.
"Lie down over there." She pointed to the bed and walked through another door into what I figured to be the bathroom. Meanwhile I was perfectly happy to lie down, so I did. I tried not to bleed all over the place, somehow I thought it was rude.
The woman returned with some towels and a bowl of water. She sat down beside me on the bed and began to clean the blood off my leg, then she pressed down on the wound to stop the bleeding. All this hurt. It hurt a lot. I tried not to growl at her, but some reactions just aren't voluntary. She jumped back, startled.
"No. It's O.K. I'm sorry. I won't hurt you." I really needed her help. Stupid me had to go and frighten her.
"All right. Just don't do that again."
"I'll try." She sat down and started torturing me again. O.K. I know, she was just trying to help, but it hurt like hell.
"You're losing a lot of blood."
"If I can stay alive until morning I'll be O.K." I tried to tell her to call Elisa, but it wouldn't come out right. I must have passed out since the next thing I remember is waking up at sunset.
Either my roar wasn't up to par, or she just couldn't hear me over the shower. I don't know which. I was still in her bed, covered up to my chin with a thin blanket. I wanted to see if my leg was O.K., so I looked under the blanket. I was wearing a bandage on my left thigh. And nothing else. Oh, I know gargoyles didn't start wearing clothes until after we started to live with humans, but the custom was in place by the time I came along. I wanted my loincloth.
I glanced around, trying to spot my clothes. I caught the woman's reflection in the mirror over her dresser. She was climbing out of the shower, dripping wet. The dark hair I remembered as a mass of curls was now slicked back. It had been a long time since I had seen a female unclothed, human or gargoyle. I stared at her reflection in the mirror, unable to look away.
Maybe she wasn't all that attractive by human standards. They like plain faces with small features, like the plastic dolls they give their children. This human had a wide mouth and a prominent nose. She was tall and her body was strong and muscular. Her skin was dusky, but lighter than, say, Elisa's. And her voice was lovely, as I could hear her singing softly to herself now that the sounds of the shower had ceased.
By the time she wrapped herself in a robe and entered the bedroom, I was in an embarrassing position. Here I was, in her bed, naked, so aroused that I physically ached. I thought about getting up and leaving, but I waited too long. Besides, that would be a poor way to thank this woman for saving my life.
"You're looking better." She walked in toweling her hair dry. Her eyes flickered across the blanket before coming to rest on my face.
"Yeah. Um. Thanks for your help. Most humans are scared of us."
"I lived in the Labyrinth for a while. You look like one of the gargoyles there. I thought you were him at first. Are you relatives?"
"Kind of." I didn't want to talk about him. There's something creepy about having a clone. "Not that I'm ungrateful, but where are my clothes? I really need to get home or the rest of my clan will worry."
"Let me see that leg of yours. I thought you were going to die on me last night." She walked over and grabbed the blanket.
"It's O.K. really. No need." I held the blanket with both hands. This was too embarrassing.
"Don't be so shy. Who do you think undressed you in the first place?" Her mouth turned up in a wry grin.
"Uh. Can't you let me get dressed first?"
"Your clothes are still wet." She crossed her arms and stared me down. Unfortunately, this caused her robe to gap open, showing quite a bit of cleavage. Great. No help for it.
"How did my clothes get wet?" I was missing something here. I didn't remember getting wet.
"You bled all over them, so I washed them."
"Oh." She came closer and sat on the edge of the bed and took the blanket in one hand. She pulled it back just enough to see my leg. She checked under the bandage and was surprised to find the wound closed, but it was still tender and sore. We gargoyles prefer to sleep outdoors because the sun gives us strength. I spent the day indoors, so my healing was slower than normal.
"By the way, I'm Olivia."
"Brooklyn." She raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment.
Having her so near me was driving me crazy. I could smell the shampoo she used and the soap on her skin. Now that she was so close, I could see a few threads of silver in her hair and small lines around her eyes.
"You were watching me weren't you?"
"I uh... Didn't mean to..."
"It's O.K. It's been a long time since anyone has wanted to look at this old carcass. I'm flattered."
"I didn't mean any disrespect."
"Disrespect? You've been the perfect gentleman." She patted my knee below the bandage. She started to get up. I stopped her with a hand on the arm.
"Why wouldn't anyone want to look at you?"
"I don't know what I look like to you, but with this great big beak of mine and this skinny body, there haven't been many men in my life."
"What's wrong with having a beak?"
"Nothing if you're a gargoyle." She got a strange look on her face and turned away. I didn't understand. She was one of the most attractive humans I'd seen yet. I sat up and turned her back around to face me.
"I think you are very attractive. I don't understand why humans like boring faces. Yours isn't boring. I like that." I'd like to say I swept her in my arms for a passionate kiss, but that doesn't happen when you have a beak like mine. Instead it ended up more like a hug. But, it was good.
I'll admit, I was nervous. A thousand years ago, when there were plenty of females around, I was just a goofy kid. There weren't many females in our hatching and the older ones just weren't interested. I'd never been with a female before. I wasn't a goofy kid anymore, but the only females around were out of reach for one reason or another. Except for this human woman.
A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell, so I'm not going to tell you all the details. Olivia deserves better than that. We made love and it was awkward. I was nervous and didn't know quite what to do. Between my injury and the physical differences, there was no chance that everything would go smoothly. But Olivia was loving and patient and I was eager to learn. It was strange and it was awkward, but it was wonderful.
I can't say I was in love with Olivia, or that she was in love with me. But we spent a great deal of time together. We weren't just bedmates, we were friends. And we loved each other as friends.
I never told my brothers about her, or even old Hudson. I suppose I was jealous of her, not wanting to share. Or maybe I was worried about their approval. I don't know. The others came to respect my time "alone."
Olivia had a sharp mind and a big heart. I came to count on her advice and she taught me more about this century than anyone or anything else. Oh, she wasn't perfect, don't get me wrong. She had a sharp tongue to go with that beak of hers. She never hesitated to tell you her opinions and could be prickly if you proved her wrong. She never apologized for anything, but if we fought, she would be all the more happy to see me the next time.
I saw her for several months and was considering introducing her to the clan when It happened. I landed on her fire escape like usual and was going to tap on the window until I noticed something going on inside. Police in Olivia's apartment? What was going on? When I saw Elisa, first my heart leapt, then it turned to ice. You didn't call out detectives for a simple burglary. I tried to catch Elisa's eye without attracting attention to myself. It took a while, but finally she came to the window.
"Brooklyn? What are you doing here?"
"What happened? Where's Olivia?"
"Did you know her?"
"Yeah. We're friends."
"I'm sorry Brooklyn. There was a break in, and... well, Olivia was stabbed. It was too late when we got here."
"Too late? What do you mean too late?"
"She's dead Brooklyn. I'm sorry."
"Who did it? Who?" This couldn't be happening. Not Olivia. No!
"I don't know Brooklyn. We're trying to find out, but it's not going to be easy. We'll try our best. I'll try my best. I promise."
Elisa did try. And her best is pretty good. But they never found Olivia's killer. I still patrol Olivia's neighborhood and I ask each punk I catch for the name of Olivia's killer. So far, none have given me the answer I seek. But, I haven't stopped asking. And when I catch the son of a bitch, he's gonna pay.
What? You expected a happy ending? Life just ain't like that, you know. Especially when your name is Brooklyn. Or Olivia.