David turned bright red; even his ear tips were red, Rodney noted. “I’m sure it won’t happen again, right, Rodney?”
“Right.” Rodney turned his back on the surreal conversation behind him to unlock the door. He pushed it open and stepped aside with a flourish. “After you.” He handed the keys back to David.
David gave him an unfathomable look as he shouldered past Rodney into his apartment, his color still high.
“Madam,” Rodney said, giving Sadie a little bow. He followed David into the apartment with the utmost dignity, his tail draped over one arm as he shut the door behind him.
David came to rest at the kitchen table, peeling the strap off his shoulder and dropping the canister to the floor so he could let the table hold him up. He lifted his head to watch as Rodney entered the small, radiant glow cast by the light over the stove. Toenails ticked on the smooth surface of the hardwood flooring, and if toenails could sound tentative, then Rodney’s certainly did.
The claws were black and caught the gleam of the ambient lighting as though they’d been polished. Rodney walked upright on his toes like a dog, the heel of his foot elongated and rising up from his foot like a horse’s hock. His skin was moss green in color and had a sheen to it that made David think it would feel like fine leather. Rodney’s legs were muscular and strong; David’s memory flashed back to the sight of Rodney crouching beside him on the rooftop, sitting on his haunches effortlessly. Well, he probably had a lot of practice doing that. An inappropriate giggle threatened to make its way out of David’s throat, and he had to beat back the temptation to burst out laughing. He sobered quickly when he realized the enormous power of the being standing in front of him.
David followed the line created by Rodney’s legs up to the rest of his body. “Six-pack abs” was a phrase that David had heard bandied about the gym and among his friends, but he’d never really appreciated what that had meant before. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on Rodney, and the muscles of his belly corded and bunched so that each isolated grouping was clearly apparent. His waist and hips were the narrowest part of his body; his chest widened above his belly to include broad shoulders, each muscle clearly visualized there as well. His dark green nipples fascinated David; he swallowed hard before continuing his visual assessment. Rodney had tucked his wings in close to his body in order to enter the apartment, but David could see the hinge-like joints and the great expanse of skin across them.
And then there was the matter of what Sadie referred to as his schlong. David had never seen such detail on a stone gargoyle, but there was no mistaking that Rodney was a living, breathing being with functional anatomy—not with a cock like that. Like everything else about Rodney, it was huge. It also was erect, with a bullet-shaped hood of foreskin that made it look very much like an arrowhead. David thought briefly about what it would be like to be nailed by something like that, and he felt a warm flush steal over his face again. There was something very pleasing to the eye in the symmetry of Rodney’s cock and the balance of his balls, and David suddenly realized he was staring.
He jerked his gaze upward to Rodney’s face. The uncertainty there in Rodney’s expression made David catch his breath. Rodney was hunched a little, as though afraid of breaking something if he moved. His ears, which were decidedly Yoda-like, no matter what he said, drooped at the tips. Rodney’s gaze, green and intense, flicked around to the sides, taking in the apartment before coming back to rest on David’s face. He took the end of his tail, and despite the fact that he already had something in his hands, he began to fiddle nervously with the tip. This time, David did laugh.
Rodney frowned. “What’s so funny?” He looked really irritated now, and David realized that it probably would be smart not to piss off the giant gargoyle. The sarcastic gargoyle who read books and had probably just saved his life. He took the chance anyway.
“You,” he said with a grin, indicating the tail. “You with that gesture. You reminded me of the Cowardly Lion. And there’s nothing cowardly about you.”
Rodney released his tail abruptly, but his expression lightened briefly before it became puzzled again. “Don’t you find this whole situation just the slightest bit odd? Most people who catch a glimpse of me end up weeping and making all kinds of crazy promises to the deity of their choice. You’re the first person who’s ever even heard me before. Now, all the sudden, I’m having casual conversations with people left and right, and no one is freaking out. Well, except for your mugger, that is. I sort of wanted him to freak out, though.”
“Sadie doesn’t scare easily,” David drawled, enjoying the absurdity of the whole evening immensely and picturing what his mugger must have looked like. He wondered if the sorry bastard had wet his pants. “Besides, you know how the city is. Anything goes.” He decided to leave out the part about how Sadie was nearly as blind as a bat.
“What about you?” Rodney’s ears wilted further, and his wings seemed to fold in protectively around his shoulders.
“Well, I got hit in the head,” David said slowly. “So everything was a little muzzy at first. By the time I realized I wasn’t really seeing things, I already knew it was you. And I know you. You’re the guy from the roof. We’ve talked about books, for crying out loud. How can I be afraid of you?”
Rodney rocked back on his toes as though staggered by David’s words. A shy, crooked smile teased at his lips before it faded. “I finished the Sherlock Holmes collection, by the way. It was fantastic. I’ll leave it on the roof for you. I should be going now. You need to get to the hospital.”
David loathed the thought of Rodney leaving. He had a funny feeling it would be the last time he saw Rodney if he did. “I’m fine. I don’t need a doctor.”
“Yes, you do,” Rodney snapped, folding his arms across his chest. His wings lifted out from his body slightly, and he looked immense in the small apartment. “I’m not an idiot, you know. I read the papers. I know how deceptive head trauma can be in you humans. You need to get completely checked out. You’re getting a CAT scan. I’ve already called someone to come get you.”
He held out his hand, opening the palm to reveal David’s cell phone. David stepped forward and took it automatically before it registered with him that Rodney had used his phone. “You what? Who’d you call?”
“I called someone named ‘Sean’. It was the first name on the ‘emergency contact’ list.” Rodney spoke almost primly, like a lecturing professor, and David wanted to laugh again.
It could have been worse. “He’s my brother. What on earth did you tell him?”
Rodney shrugged, an oddly human gesture for one so alien. “The truth, basically. That you’d been mugged and were back at your apartment but refusing to go to the hospital. He’s on his way now.”
“Shit,” David muttered. “No, no, you did the right thing.” He waved off Rodney’s sudden look of concern. “I just really don’t want to deal with my family at the moment.”
“You’re lucky to have family,” Rodney said. “I have to make up my own.”
Before David could respond to that intriguing statement, the buzzer rang loud and long as someone leaned on it.
“Shit!” David looked around for a hiding place and failed to find one. “Quick, hide in the bedroom or something!”
Rodney started suddenly, turning to look back at the door in agitation, and one of his wings brushed the countertop, sending a glass crashing into the sink.
“David?” A heavy pounding rattled the door. “Are you all right? I’m coming in!”
David gripped Rodney by the arms to squeeze past him at the entranceway to the room, his fingers inadvertently caressing Rodney’s warm, silky skin before he called out to Sean.
“I’m fine, damn it. Keep your shirt on, Sean.”
The doorknob was turning even as he reached for it himself. Shit, he’d forgotten he’d given Sean a key. He glanced back over his shoulder to see Rodney standing like a statue against the wall of the living room, wings folded around his body, his
tail wrapped around his legs, those amazing, glowing eyes closed.
Sean came barreling into the apartment, key in hand, only to pull up short at the sight of David. “Holy crap, David, you look like shit. Are you okay?” Sean reached out to place a hand on David’s arm before David pulled away.
“I’m fine. Let’s just get this over with, okay?”
Sean made a wry face at him. “I’m surprised you’re agreeing to go. I guess that friend of yours—what’s his name?—Rodney, talked some sense in you. I wouldn’t hold my breath about getting back here soon though. You know what the ER will be like tonight. You want to tell me what happened?”
“I’ll fill you in on the way.” David checked his belongings: cell phone, keys…. He glanced back at Rodney again.
“What the fuck is that?” Sean asked, pointing in Rodney’s direction.
“A gargoyle,” David said with precision, hoping Rodney could hear and appreciate the imitation.
Sean shook his head. “Where the hell did you get that? Doesn’t it give you the creeps to have that in here?”
“I know the sculptor,” David said shortly. “And for your information, I think he’s beautiful.”
One of Rodney’s eyelids jerked, as though Rodney were resisting the impulse to open it.
“He’s certainly… impressive,” Sean agreed, turning back toward the door as David followed. “Anatomically correct too. Dad would be so proud.”
David punched him on the arm as they left the apartment.
Rodney wasn’t there when he returned. David wasn’t surprised; the first pinkish streaks of dawn had painted the sky as he exited the hospital, yawning. He’d waved off Sean’s offer of a ride back to his apartment, preferring to catch a cab. He knew Sean had to go home to shower and change for work anyway. He appreciated the fact that Sean had stayed with him the entire time. There’d been no need for that.
The scans had been clear, and David had been given some painkillers that looked like they’d choke a horse, with a prescription for more to fill if needed. He envisioned a long, hot shower and a day on the couch in his future. He’d hoped to find some evidence of Rodney in his apartment when he finally returned, something to assure him that Rodney had not been a figment of his imagination, but there was nothing.
The only indication that someone had been there was the fact that the skylight was partially open when David entered his apartment. Even then, David couldn’t be sure he hadn’t left it open the night before. It gave him something to think about during the long day while he alternated between dozing on the couch and searching for anything he could find on the internet about gargoyles. There wasn’t much.
Toward sunset, David climbed the stairs and let himself out on the roof. He’d been up there in daylight before, had admired the view, and even examined the gargoyles mounted there, but never with the purpose of seeing if he recognized one of them before. It didn’t take him long to spot Rodney. Though the stone was disconcertingly more weathered than he’d expected, Rodney’s features were all there, down to the suggestion of that little crooked smile.
He couldn’t wait to see the look on Rodney’s face when the sun set.
He was leaning on the balustrade, wanting to look deceptively casual when Rodney opened his eyes, when he heard the sound. Slight at first, just a faint creak, as though there was the suggestion of something gritty shifting somewhere nearby. David frowned, trying to locate the source, when he heard the groan of a metal support bending and the loud crack of splitting concrete.
He leaned out over the railing and looked down in horror. Rodney’s base was breaking free from the building. Without thinking, he reached out and grasped hold of one of Rodney’s wings, bracing his feet against the balustrade when he felt the large weight shift beneath his hands. Desperate to hold on and knowing it was an impossible task, he felt the roughened surface of Rodney’s body pulling inexorably out from under his fingers, biting into flesh as it dragged away. The stretch across his back and shoulders reawakened every muscle that had been dulled by medication into full-blown agony.
“Rodney!” he yelled. “Wake up!”
The sun was a bright ball of red in the sky, sinking slowly behind the skyline, highlighting the buildings like a row of jagged teeth. David only had to hang on a few moments longer, he was sure. He was equally sure that he could not.
Rodney opened his eyes. Alarmed, he tried to peel David’s hand off his wing. “Let go!” he shouted as the entire base beneath him dropped sharply by half a foot.
“I’m not going to let you fall!” David shouted back, fingers digging in.
“I can fly, you idiot!” Rodney snapped.
Chagrined, David let go just as the base broke completely free of the wall and went crashing to the sidewalk below. David threatened to overbalance and fall as well, gripping the wall fiercely and pulling himself upright before he did so. Rodney spread his wings and flapped them twice. They both watched as the base went cascading to the ground. There was the squealing of tires and honking horns, even as Rodney hovered for a second midair, before he grabbed the wall and swung nimbly over the edge. He immediately hunkered down behind the balustrade out of sight.
“You look,” he said to David, covering his eyes with one hand. “Tell me what’s going on.”
David peered over the edge and then dropped down beside Rodney, sitting with his back to the wall as well. It could have been worse. A couple of crunched fenders from cars stopping so abruptly, but no one had been crushed by the falling concrete. “Ah, well, that’s going to be on the evening news. Come on, we’d better get inside before the police show up.”
He grinned as he reached down for Rodney’s hand, enjoying the startled look on his face.
It did not seem odd at all to be inside David’s apartment again. It seemed right somehow. At least Rodney was going to live out one of his fantasies before his existence ended, the one where he and David sat around in the evenings, discussing topics of major importance. He eyed David’s furniture. Provided it didn’t collapse under his weight, that is.
“I feel like an idiot,” David said, briefly inspecting his fingertips before rolling a shoulder carefully with a grimace. “Of course you can fly. Have a seat.” He indicated a chair. “You want something to drink?” He headed into the kitchen area and opened the fridge, pulling out a couple of bottles of beer and holding them up by the necks with a questioning expression.
It was all so normal that Rodney wanted to cry.
He silently accepted the proffered beer and watched as David twisted off the cap, flicking it expertly into the nearby trashcan. He took a generous swallow, and Rodney watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed with the movement. Rodney cautiously sat down in the large chair beside the couch, taking a moment to figure out what to do with his wings and deciding it was best to leave them partially spread to hang over the arms of the chair.
David threw himself down on the couch, propping his feet up on the coffee table. “I was really worried about you. I thought you were a goner.” The look on David’s face invited Rodney to laugh at David’s ridiculous assumption along with him.
“Had I fallen in my stone form, I would have died.” Rodney admired the matter-of-fact manner in which he spoke. “As it is, there is nothing for me to return to in the morning.”
David froze in the act of lifting the bottle to his lips again. “What does that mean for you?”
Rodney shrugged. “I cease to exist.”
“What?” David sat up straight, placing his feet back on the floor and setting the bottle down with a thump on the table. “What are you saying, Rodney?”
Rodney sighed. “That this is my last night on Earth.”
“Well, fuck that,” David growled, his previous affability morphing suddenly into something angry and lethal. “Can’t we just get some stuff and repair it? I mean, how hard can it….” His voice trailed off when he realized the impossibility of the task being completed before dawn. There was no way concrete could set in
time to hold up something of Rodney’s mass in his stone form. He could see David grappling for ideas and rejecting each one in turn as their flaws became apparent to him. “Rodney,” he said helplessly, when he couldn’t think of anything else to say. Rodney was touched that this affected him so. David’s expression was almost unbearable, however.
“No matter.” Rodney set down the unopened bottle of beer on the coffee table. “I’ve been around a long time. It hasn’t been all bad. As a matter of fact, knowing you has been the best part of it.” Rodney smiled, conscious of how glittering and tight his expression must be. “‘It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known’.”
The look on David’s face at the quotation was painful to see. How was it that he’d never thought about the people that the hero of a story left behind?
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