All Gargoyles characters appearing in this fiction are property of the Walt Disney Company and are used without their consent. All original characters appearing in this fic are property of ShadowChild28 and Queenofmean2k8.

This story is a collaboration piece between ShadowChild28 and QueenofMean2k8; check out our separate accounts to view our work.

...

The Truth

Castle Wyvern, the library

Katana made her way into the castle's library, seeking a way to ease her boredom for the evening. It had been strange to adjust to the change of life that came with the castle, having a moment of peace was something she was not used too. It was a good thing that her mate and son provided a distraction, but it had been some time since she had read a good book.

Entering the library, and carrying "Egwardo" within her hold, she found the fire burning and a lowly gargess sat brooding. Since Katana's arrival to the present era with Gnash, she had noticed an odd look in Angela's eyes when she spotted the Japanese gargoyle and her son. Katana sensed there was something bothering the young gargess, as her new clan member Katana saw it as her duty to help.

Her expression polite and trying to make conversation, she said, "I cannot wait for Xanatos to finish constructing the new rookery."

"Hmm," was Angela's only reply.

Angela's expression was distant, like she was not listening. Katana was right in assuming that something had been distracting the young gargess, but what could possibly be bothering her?

"What is wrong?" Katana asked.

Angela hesitated to answer and looked to the fire. She thought hard about her feelings, about the conclusions she had come too in the past few days. She looked to Katana, her eyes hard, then to the egg in her lap and her eyes softened. She decided to trust Katana, after all, who knew more about the subject than her?

"Are you... happy to have Gnash close to you?" Angela asked.

Katana looked up at her, a little startled by the question. "Hai, Angela-san," she answered. "I love my son very much – to not be with him would be torture."

"Then what would you say if I knew Broadway and Hudson were father and son?" Angela continued. "But that Broadway does not know?"

Katana did not answer at first.

She could clearly see the similarities between Hudson and Broadway, both in feature and in pattern, but if no one had spoken about the subject before then clearly the unspoken rule was in force. Children were raised by the clan's elders, not by individuals, those a thousand year old it seemed Hudson was still following the rule.

"If Broadway does not know, then it should remain that way," Katana answered. "This clan was raised with the principle of 'children of the rookery'; if he has not been told then it could be for that very reason."

"But don't you think Broadway has a right to know who his father is?" Angela persisted.

"I... suppose," Katana replied slowly. "But that is not a decision for you – or me – to make."

Angela glared at Katana, feeling bitter bile in her throat that she just knew was anger. Of all the gargoyles surely Katana could relate to Broadway and Hudson's situation and agree with Angela, yet Katana refused to see it the same way as her. Angela only wished for Katana to agree with her, so she would her heart was in the right place, but now Angela was at a loss for words.

...

Goliath, admittedly, felt rather uncomfortable.

After wishing Elisa a goodnight and returning to the castle to allow his human love to go patrol, he decided to spend the night reading a copy of 'Metamorphosis'. His plans had taken an awkward turn when he stumbled upon something that could potentially turn into a fight.

Upon his arrival both had grown silent under his glare. He looked to Katana and then to his daughter, frowning disapprovingly at both of them. He didn't know the exact details for the harsh tones, but there was no need for it. They were now clan mates; it was expected of them to get along, for the good of the rest of the clan.

...

Elisa charged up the steps of the castle, finding Brooklyn, Gnash and a sour-faced Goliath standing along the battlements. She began to ask what had caused Goliath to look so annoyed, but she decided that her news was far more important at the moment and her love could wait a few seconds.

"Oh, hey Elisa," Brooklyn greeted as he spotted the human woman. "I thought you were on patrol to night."

"I was, but something happened that you all need to know," she answered.

"What is it?" Goliath asked.

"Wolf escaped from Riker's Island," she answered. "And worse, Tony Dracon and his goons got away too."

"Dracon?" Gnash repeated on confusion and turned to his father.

"I'll explain later," Brooklyn replied.

Elisa watched as Goliath's expression turned from annoyance to that of a stern warrior, she always felt awe at how quick Goliath could switch modes, like it was first nature for the warrior. When she heard of the news she swore stormed out of Maria Chavez's office and punched her car, she was tired of capturing criminals if only for them to escape. Whenever a criminal escaped she often felt like giving up, the saying 'crime doesn't pay' was starting to lose its meaning.

"How long ago did he escape?" Goliath asked.

"A few hours ago," Elisa answered. "We thought he was heading to the airport, but we got a tip from an anonymous source that Dracon was to be expected at Central Park tonight for some kind of deal. The problem is that a separate tip was issued the same time, this time saying he's gone to the dock. The station sent its best cops over to the dock, leaving the Park unwatched."

"Goliath, aren't Broadway and Hudson patrolling by the Park tonight?" Brooklyn asked.

"Yes," Goliath confirmed. "No doubt Broadway will attack if he spots Dracon."

Goliath considered this new information over for a moment or two, and then devised a plan. "Elisa, can you go the Park and try to find Broadway and Hudson?" he inquired.

"I was just on my way before I stopped here," Elisa smiled.

He gave her a small smile in return, "Then go and stop them from doing anything foolish," he turned his attention to Brooklyn. "Take Lexington and Angela and go to the docks, I doubt Dracon's escaping the same time as Wolf was a coincidence."

"What about me?" Gnash inquired eagerly.

"You will wait here with me and your mother," Goliath answered coolly.

Gnash's shoulders sagged in disappointment. Goliath sensed he had cooled the boy's fire, he quickly revived it.

"We are the back up," he added. "If either your father or Broadway fails then we must come to their rescue."

Gnash's face broke into a huge grin; Brooklyn affectionately stroked his father's raven hair. Elisa quickly left, running down the castle steps. Brooklyn left his son with Goliath and left in search of Angela and Lexington.

None of them aware of the tragedy that approached that evening.

...

Central Park

Hudson and Broadway glided above the strong bark of Manhattan's Central Park, the moonlight's soft glow was cool against their leathery wings. They enjoyed taking Patrols on the summer evenings, though the night was shorter with less moonlight to take in, Broadway was far fonder of the summer nights.

They had done well in patrolling the area, stopping a mugging and one petty theft. It was one of the quieter evenings, normally on a summer eve's they would be busy with all sorts of things. As they passed overheard of the Park, Broadway began to prepare the arrangement of his breakfast for that evening.

"Eggs, bacon," he murmured hungrily. "Toast, uh... oh, sausages!"

Hudson resisted the urge to roll his eyes, once he believed the boy's stomach was bigger than his eyes, now he knew better. As they came over the Park, Hudson glanced down below to an opening between the trees.

Three men stood in the clear; two were strangers in dark suits and both carried a metal suit case. The third man was more familiar, with a skunk-like white streak in his black hair, a dark suit and carrying a heavy duffel bag.

"Dracon..." he snarled.

Broadway looked at him in surprise, then caught sight of the man below and a demonic glow entered his eyes. Hudson grabbed him and pulled him back, they landed in the Park, laying hidden in the gloom. Hudson ordered him to calm down.

"Why should we wait?" Broadway growled. "He's out of jail! He's right here! We should get him!"

"No, lad," Hudson hissed. "We must be patient! We run in an' we'll be killed."

The glow dimmed in Broadway's eyes, seeing sense. "Then what do we do?" he asked.

"Ye circle back 'round an' hover above," Hudson ordered. "When I get the two men, yer get Dracon."

Broadway nodded and disappeared into the darkness, obeying the words of his elder. Hudson stealthily moved forwards, circling around until he was directly behind the two men. He looked up, spotting Broadway above, a shadow over crime.

"We brought the money, now let's see the weapon," one of the men demanded.

Dracon only smirked. He zipped only the duffel bag and pulled out a large weapon, a darkly familiar thing, the very weapon he had stolen from Xanatos two years earlier. It was too much for Broadway. Seeing the gun brought back too many memories, too much pain, he had to make Dracon pay.

He lost his temper at the sight of the gun, roaring loudly as his eyes became consumed by white hot rage, he shot down like a speeding bullet and flung the two men to the floor. Dracon cried out in surprise and dropped the gun to the ground, whimpering as he backed away from the angered demon.

Broadway lifted him by the scruff and lifted him off the ground. As Broadway looked upon the face he so despised, he felt something amiss. There was something wrong about him, his face... Broadway gasped, now noticing the lopsided hair piece.

It wasn't Dracon, it was an imposter.

Hudson jumped to his feet, running onto the scene just as the real Dracon jumped from the shadows of the woods with a triumphant cry. He held a gun in his one hand and set his sights on Broadway, Hudson tried to run faster, but his old legs couldn't quite carry him. Dracon fired.

Broadway didn't feel the pain, too stunned to comprehend what had happened. The pain finally hit him and hard, it hurt more than he expected, but he would have been foolish to expect anything else other than the searing pain that coursed through his body and tore him apart from the inside out. He lost his footing, the feeling leaving his legs, and he fell onto his back, landing awkwardly on his wings.

He starred up at the dark sky, his vision blurring as Dracon became a secondary thought. He felt the moist liquid coursing down his side and a new pain hit him then. A gut-wrenching sensation that hurt more than the bullet in his chest, it took him a few moments to figure out what it was, then it slowly came to him and he realized it was regret.

What did he think he was doing? He disobeyed orders; he knew as well as anyone that doing such a thing only led to disaster. Because of his stupidity he was dying. He felt tears whelm in his eyes at the revelation, was he going to die? He didn't want to die; he didn't want to leave behind Angela or the clan. The feeling of regret grew, heavy in his chest like a lead vice on his chest. His stupidity had cost him his Angela, and now the only clan would be hurting because of what he did.

Hudson starred at Broadway as he slowly collapsed, his thoughts blank, his body unfeeling, Hudson stood there hollow as the stone skin they wore during the day. He couldn't think, couldn't react, could barely breathe. He just couldn't believe it; or rather he refused to believe that another of his brood had been injured, that another of his kin could be dying. Broadway hit the ground and then it hit Hudson like a backlash, he physically recoiled from the sight before him, and panic began to weigh in him like a heavy ball of lead.

Was Broadway dead? Had Dracon finally reaped his revenge against the gargoyle that had so rightfully soured his plans on many occasions? How could Hudson deal with another loss? Hudson's thoughts suddenly flashed to his mate, to the way she looked in his arms, so fragile and yet so beautiful.

Anger flared deep within him, burning away the panic and all other feelings until there was nothing but the white hot burn. He could not loose another child, especially to a man like Dracon. If he had to he would stain the park with his foul blood.

Hudson pulled his sword from its sheath, preparing to charge, when he caught sight of Broadway in the corner of his eye. Stiff, motionless, dying. The white hot anger dimmed as he pushed away his animalistic rage, and he chastised himself for being so foolish. Dracon was second priority, right now what was important was saving Broadway's life.'

Dracon backed off at the sight of the elderly warrior. "Damn!" He hissed. "Another one of them flyin' monsters!"

He knew there were more of the monsters, but how many more? And what were they going to do when they discovered what he did? He decided not to dawn on the future, he shot the gargoyle he truly despised and allowed himself to feel some smug satisfaction over that achievement.

Hudson relished the thought of tearing Dracon limb from limb, but his instinct told him better. Dracon backed off a step, Hudson shot him a warning growl, the human bolted and disappeared. Hudson watched him go then ran to his child's side.

...

Dracon felt something in his chest, a feeling welling in the very hollow of his bones; the worst of all the sins – Dracon felt pride. He had finally done what he had set out to do, kill the gargoyle that had brought his criminal empire down. With the gargoyle gone he could finally rebuild his empire - but more importantly, rebuild his reputation.

The question was – where to start?

...

Hudson sheathed his sword as he fell to his knees at Broadway's side; his talons hovered over the bloody wounds, unsure of himself and what to do.

Hudson touched the wound gingerly, pulling his talon back to stare at the thick blood. He was running out of time and he didn't know what to do. He remembered the walkie talkie he was carrying; he just hoped Elisa hadn't left hers in the car again. He grabbed his walkie talkie, leaving a bloody handprint, and called Elisa.

At first he received static, his heart sank, but after a moment Elisa answered with a relieved sigh.

"Thank god, Hudson!" she gasped. "I've been trying to get through, but I was out of range!"

"L-lass, we got a situation!" Hudson cried.

"What is it?" she asked hesitantly.

"Broadway's been shot!" Hudson sobbed.

"W-what?" she gasped. "Hudson, listen. You need to calm down, okay? We need to do what we can to save him before it's too late."

"A-a-aye," he nodded firmly. "Just tell me what I need to do."

...

Elisa pulled up sharply, commanding Hudson from afar. She had not been far when he was called, but time was at an import and any wasted second was a second too long. Jumping out of the car with her gun drawn, just in case Dracon returned, she ran to the scene.

Elisa eventually stumbled upon the place where Broadway lay and the sight before her caused her heart to freeze. She had seen the gargoyles injured before, but never before had they been in such a condition. Never had someone come so close to killing them.

For a brief second Elisa forgot herself and she remembered how Angela had been hurt by the Hunters, but this was different. Angela wasn't bleeding, wasn't gushing bleed. Broadway was. Her groomed police instinct kicked in and she took charge, running to Broadway's side

"Hudson, stand aside," she demanded. "I need you to move so I can check on Broadway."

Hudson hesitated, looking at his bloody talons, then shakily looked up to Elisa and nodded. There was a look in his eyes that worried Elisa, like he wasn't there with her. His thoughts were elsewhere, in a different time with another dying gargoyle.

Her training kicked in within a second, an automatic response drilled into her after years on the force. Like second nature, she ran to Broadway's side. She tore her jacket off and began to apply it to the blood soaked wound.

Elisa occasionally glanced at Hudson, looking at his pale and terrified expression. She looked back to Broadway, there was a chance to save him, but she couldn't too it in her current situation. She pulled out her phone and called Xanatos.

The phone rang twice, too long before he answered. "Well, Detective," he purred. "How nice of you to call."

"Damn it, Xanatos!" she hissed in frustration. "We have no time for pleasantries! Broadway's been shot!"

Xanatos didn't answer at first, she sensed he was shocked. A rarity for Xanatos. "Yes, right," he said calmly. "Where are you?"

"Central Park," she answered, "East side."

Xanatos promised to take care of the rest and hung up. Elisa looked back to Hudson, she needed to distract him, otherwise he would be of no use.

"Hudson, remain calm," she said soothingly. "Keep an eye out for the ones who shot Broadway and for help."

Hudson nodded and got to his feet, his knees trembling slightly. He wondered around, keeping an eye out for danger, though his thoughts were distracted. Elisa continued to talk to Broadway, occasionally his eyes would filter open, but there was no life. Hope was fading fast.

Minutes passed, how many she wasn't sure, before the sound of the helicopter cut through the sound of Hudson's panicked heartbeat. It appeared out of the dark sky, touching down in the centre of the park. The air to rippled around them, dirt kicked up in the air. It doors were open just as it touched down and, to Elisa's relief, Dr. Sato and his men jumped off.

They pulled out several bags of equipment, a stretcher and a large tank of oxygen. They immediately went to Broadway, placing the mask upon his face and ushering Elisa aside. They moved quickly, loading him onto the stretcher as Dr. Sato got to work.

"Keep an eye on the blood flow and make sure he doesn't bleed out," Dr. Sato ordered his men, he turned to Hudson. "Now listen to me, sir, I need you to stay calm, okay? Stay calm and help us lift him into the helicopter.

Hudson nodded, his lower lip trembling as he held back his sobs. He helped them load Broadway onto the helicopter, the doors closed shut and as the blade began to spin Elisa and Hudson ran out of sight. The gun shot was bound to draw attention, if it didn't then surely the helicopter would. Hudson watched the metal machine fly off with his child and, with a heavy heart, followed.

To Be Continued...