I don't own Gargoyles...but I do own Gabrielle! Please Read and Review! I really appreciate it!

"How's the heart rate, Garnett?" An older man in green scrubs with graying hair and glasses called, holding a scalpel over the patient's chest. Aside from those who were helping him, he disregarded everything else in the room.

The room was a shade of off-white, but it was still more blinding than looking directly into the sun. Everything was sterilized and smelt of disinfectant, expensive hand-sanitizer, and sickness. This room was full of people; one person lying on a silver table, three people, two men and one woman, hovered over the table, and two young women working on charts on a written tablet and computer from across the room.

One of the young women by the computer answered. "It's starting to stabilize." She had dark brown hair with a slight wave. She was tall, on the pale side, and had caring, sparkling green eyes.

"Is it possible to temporarily stop it? I can't remove the tumor without puncturing the heart while it's moving." The doctor inwardly sighed. Doctors by now were way past accomplishing heart surgeries with the heart still beating, but the tumor on the dying man's heart was much worse than anticipated.

The same woman tapped away on the keyboard and clicked the mouse a few times, then glanced back up at the surgeon. "Yes. I can stop it now by hooking up the heart-lung machine."

"No, you stay there. Werk can hook it up. You stay there and tell me when the heart stops and how the circulation continues."

Werk, the woman next to Garnett, slightly overweight with blond hair and dark roots, with tired eyes and an aged face, hurried over to a machine with wires and tubes growing from it. She fumbled with some of the tubes and wiring, then inserted to different places of the patient's heart. The rhythm slowed, eventually stopping completely.

"Garnett, how's circulation?"

"Perfect."

"Wonderful." The old man grazed his eyes quickly upon everyone in the room, then returned to the patient. "Let's save this man's life."

Gabrielle Garnett exited the hospital. Her bright blue scrubs made a gentle shish as she strode towards the door. Her white sneakers were silent against the off-white tiles that reflected the bright luminescent lights on the ceiling, making Gabrielle almost wish she had sunglasses, in spite of it being close to midnight.

Gabrielle stepped out of the hospital and into the darkness of Manhattan, New York. Despite the late hour, there were neon lights shining everywhere, horns honking, TV screens the size of billboards blaring, but not a star in the sky. The moon was the sole connection to the natural order of the night, accompanied not by the North Star or any constellations, but by clouds, which were probably smog formations, anyway.

Gabrielle only had a block to walk before she would reach her apartment. She was very lucky that way. Her apartment was on the same street as the hospital, and she walked there everyday. She wasn't next door to it, but still very close. Virtually, the only thing separating her apartment from the hospital was the parking lot, an independent flower shop, and a small alley.

The alley was technically a part of the apartment building. It held a dumpster and gave room to the fire escape on one side of the apartment building and one side of the flower shop. Gabrielle always walked more quickly when going past the alley, frankly because she disliked the dark and anything that may be lurking there. She didn't even open the window of her apartment to look out into the alley. She didn't do this simply because the alley wasn't a pretty sight, but because she was afraid of heights.

Her fear was so great that she could not even bring herself to look out the window, for she had a ridiculous dread of falling out. She knew it was stupid, but she also didn't know how to fix. She didn't care too much, either. Her fear of heights had never had prevented her from doing anything that she needed or wanted to do, so as far as she was concerned, all she had was a minor phobia that everyone could be subject to. Granted, not everyone feared heights, but fears of the dark, fires, and other phobias that had a practical grounding.

Gabrielle hastened her pace as the alley approached.

Too bad she didn't get passed it.

Someone lunged at her, scooping her back into the alleyway, hugging her from behind so she couldn't fight back. "Okay, look, we don't wanna hurtcha, all we want is some cash to feed our families, 'kay?" It was a man's voice, but one that Gabrielle didn't recognize.

Someone behind the man laughed, "Yeah, feed our families! Right!"

The person picked her up and spun around so she would no longer face the streets. The arms around her were tight and muscular, and she could only guess that the person attached was tall and fit, but the man who had just replied was plump and stocky. She fought the man's grip, but it was of no use.

"Look, just give us your wallet, okay?" This time it was the capturer. "Then we'll be on our way, all right?"

Gabrielle kicked the villain's shin as hard as she could and started to run. However, the man she just kicked grabbed her arm and twisted it behind her back and pushed her to kneel.

The fat one spat. "You asked for it now, lady!" He held up a club, swinging it up high.

Gabrielle winced and closed her eyes, preparing for the blow.

She heard a crack, but to her relief, it was not the sound of her splintering skull. She opened her eyes. The plump companion of the one behind her was pinned against the wall, held up four feet above the ground, by a creature that Gabrielle didn't immediately recognize.

Her jaw dropped in a silent scream. She was gaping at a monster. It had a stark white mane that clashed with its blood red skin. The beast had claws, a beak, and leathery wings. Its eyes glowed brilliant white with an intensity and anger that frightened Gabrielle to the point of speechlessness and paralysis. It was huge, perhaps twice the size of a human. It growled and snarled at the fat criminal, bearing fangs and a forked tongue.

It threw the man like an unwanted, lifeless doll into the dumpster. It turned to Gabrielle, its growl getting louder. The man behind Gabrielle kicked her toward the monster and pleaded, "Take her, not me! Don't hurt me!"

Gabrielle was beyond stunned when it replied in clear English, "Don't worry. I'll do more than just that." The red beast jumped over Gabrielle, aiming for the man that started the dispute in the first place.

However, Gabrielle didn't hear a rip, a scream, or a snapping of the man's bones. She heard a bang.

And another.

And another.

Bangbangbangbangbang.

Gabrielle had covered her head with her arms.

When there was silence, she lifted her head and dropped her shaking limbs. The creature had a gun in its hand, now crumbled in its talons, and gave a defeated sigh and fell on top of its opponent. The man, with a look of horror, collapsed under the monster's weight.

Gabrielle gasped. The creature was full of holes, probably from the gun that it destroyed. She stood, creeping closer to the monster and the man.

The criminal was now unconscious, his eyes rolled back into his head. The creature, from what she could tell, was still breathing and aware of its surroundings. She hesitated, lightly touching the creatures shoulder with her palm.

It moaned in pain, causing Gabrielle to swiftly retrieve her hand and cradle it in her chest. The monster struggled to lift its head in her direction. Its eyes were still a luminous white, but it seemed no longer vicious, only in agony.

Gabrielle gulped. "Uh… thank you." She paused, nervously watching the creature. "I—I'd like to help you." She stepped closer, kneeling. "Could you let me do that much?"

It closed its eyes, wrinkling its forehead in such a way that it perfectly resembled the human emotions of sadness, worry, and hurting. "Please…" It's voiced trailed off, and it lolled its head to the side.

She was no longer kneeling, but she bent down from the waist and dragged the criminal from under the giant beast. It did not give any sign of disturbance whatsoever. It was almost as if it were asleep, or simply uncaring. She took the man next to the dumpster where his companion was in. She quickly scanned him, and saw that he had no wounds. He probably had fainted from shock.

She laid him on his back and bent his knees up. Cold sweat dampened her hair and clothes as she steadied her breath and studied the unconscious man.

He was still breathing and he still had a pulse, so she left him be. She could hear the man in the dumpster whimpering and shaking in the garbage.

She returned to the creature and inspected its back. None of the bullets went straight through its torso, but there were a couple holes in its wings. She knelt back down and gently placed her hands on the monster's—no, not a monster, but certainly a strange being—shoulders and tried to pushed the creature to its back side.

It started to growl again. "Hey!"

She stopped pushing, but kept her hands on its shoulder. She spoke timidly. "I'm just trying to help. I'm going to get the bullets out, and I'm going to make sure you don't get infected. That's all I want to do." Her face felt hot under its frightening and unwavering gaze. Though she became a master at being calm under intense situations, she was scrambled and scared senseless on the inside. "And in order to do that, I have to turn you over."

The sarcasm was thick in its speech. "Look, I'm glad that you're not running and screaming, but I don't need your help. Go home, where it's safe."

Gabrielle noticed that the creature, while it spoke, didn't sound foreign at all. She briefly fancied that it was an alien of some sort, but it just didn't fit. It sounded almost casual, not proper like someone passively learning the language would sound like.

Its voice also sounded like a he. Its voice sounded surprisingly natural, not manipulated, and masculine.

Gabrielle didn't want to anger him, but she was a little shocked that with all of his injuries, he would refuse her help. "But, look at your wounds! If they don't kill you, then the infection they bring will!" She stopped abruptly, realizing that if she protested too much and grew only slightly hysterical, he might grow angry and not think twice about hurting her. "Could you at least let me help you to pay you back?"

"No." He quickly shook his head. "I can wait till daybreak." His eyes stopped glowing. He had large black eyes, but still had white surrounding it, eerily human-like.

"Daybreak?" She cocked an eyebrow and her voice went up an octave in her bafflement. "What's so special about that?"

He seemed to labor in his breathing. "I turn to stone during daylight. That's how I sleep. When I'm stone, my wounds heal."

Realization crept upon Gabrielle's features. Quickly scanning his body and applying what this creature had just said, she finally knew what this creature was.

She had heard of this creature in fairytales as a child, and had briefly learned of them in her history classes in elementary school and maybe even as late as high school, but she had never dreamed that they had still existed.

"I'm a gargoyle. I protect humans, even though most don't know I exist." He paused, analyzing her features. "Though if a human does see me, they run like a champion into the opposite direction," He added bitterly, "Even if I help them." He stared at her, his eyes softening. "But, you're not." He struggled for words and could only muster, "Why?"

She stammered. "I—I—Well, I mean—" She stopped and took a deep breath. "Well, I am pretty blown away," She began, pausing to examine his expression, hoping that she was saying the appropriate things. That's really all her job was—when talking to a patient, anyway—to keep people calm so that helping them would be that much easier. "But by this whole thing. And, well, when I saw you lying there, I couldn't just run away." All this was the truth, but she had to make sure that she could articulate it in a suitable manner so she wouldn't regret having said anything at all. "I had to help you. I have to help you." She took one of her hands of his shoulder and slid the other down to his elbow as she returned a puzzled but kind gaze. "When you turn to stone, and your wounds close," She purposely used close instead of heal. "What happens to the bullets inside of you?"

He blinked, mystified. "I…I don't know."

She sighed. "Even if you don't get infection, you'll still have those bullets inside. Just imagine feeling those bullets, feeling shards of metal in your body, every time you move, you feel them move, too."

He exhaled tiredly, looking away. "Fine, fine." He let her turn him over, but grimaced as his back made contact with the ground.

"Okay, I'm going to run back into the hospital and I'll get the tools I need. I'll be right back. Don't worry." She turned and started to run.

The red gargoyle carelessly tossed his head to the direction where she took off and commented dryly, "I'll just stay here, then."

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