Ashes to Ashes Chapter 2: Dust to Dust
Title: Ashes to Ashes Part 2: Dust to Dust
Rating: PG-13
Universe: Gargoyles
Summery: Life for Brooklyn just got a little more complicated.
Brooklyn didn't like hospitals very much. The smell of the disinfectant stung his nose, and the healers (Doctors, he corrected himself. They're called doctors and nurses.) always seemed too detached from the people they were supposed to be healing. Though that seemed to have become a blessing in this moment, since they seemed quiet willing to ignore the big red gargoyle in their midst so long as he didn't get in the way.
The fact that he'd used the credit card Xanatos had given him to pay the woman's bill had probably greased the wheels, but he didn't care to dwell on that. He chose to concentrate on the woman in the bed. She wasn't lovely, even on closer inspection. Her hair was coarse, like a horse’s, and bore faint streaks of iron gray, though her body spoke of youth. She had hard lines around her mouth and across her forehead. A woman made old before her time. Her naturally dusky skin (a few shades lighter than Elisa's, he noted absently as he held her hand) did nothing to cover the pallor of illness. The one doctor that had been willing to speak to him had said that she had attempted to overdose on several 'sleep aids' and enough alcohol to put even Hudson in his cups.
This was a woman who had wanted very badly to die; not that Brooklyn was going to allow it. The woman's eyes fluttered open for a moment before settling into a half-lidded blank stare. Her eyes were as dark as her hair, and dull with drugs and pain. "Hi." the red gargoyle said softy. "Feeling better?"
She let out a gut wrenching sob, her whole body shaking. Brooklyn froze for a moment, his hand still holding hers. "Hey. Hey. Shhh... it's alright,” he said, leaning forward to stroke her hair like he might a child's. "It's alright..." He didn't really know what else to say, and some gut instinct told him that it wasn't alright. Something had to be very wrong to drive a woman to try and turn herself into a gooey smear on the pavement.
It seemed to be forever before she finally stopped crying. Her eyes were red and puffy as she lay back against the sheets. She didn't even seem to notice him. Brooklyn didn't know if this was a good thing or a bad thing.
*****
Elisa flipped through the pages of the novel long file, looking at the pages but not really seeing. She'd typed half the reports herself, and she knew it backwards and forwards. The name was printed in black block letters across the tab. Dracon, Antoney Michael. There was an exact copy of it still at the station house, and a digital one on the computers. This was the copy that Elisa would take home with her to pore over. This was the copy with the coffee cup ring and the pizza stain. The one that smelled faintly of her mother's perfume. The one with her handwriting scribbled in the margins, complete with a little doodle of Dracon being hung upside down by his foot by Goliath while Elisa battered him with a baseball bat.
Wood smoke filled her nostrils, bringing her attention back to the here and now. Hudson looked up from the small fire he was building from fallen wood scavenged from Central Park. "’Tis almost ready, lass." he said, giving the fledgling flame a slight prod with a stick.
"Are you sure you want to do this, Elisa?" Goliath asked softly, one hand resting gently on the detective's shoulder.
"Yeah, Big Guy. I need to do this. Get the bastard out of my system once and for all." She stepped up to the fire as it began to leap and dance, then tossed the first page of the file onto the flames. It caught almost before it hit the wood, burning cheerfully and filling Elisa's nose with the acidic stench of burning paper and ink. The second page joined it not long after, then the third, then the fourth... each one adding the flames, which burned away Tony Dracon's life into nothing more than fine gray ash.
The fire wavered and danced away as one of the clan came in for a landing. A quick glance up revealed a dour looking Brooklyn, who caped his wings and ran a hand through his messy main before approaching. "What's up?" he asked, his voice unusually subdued.
"Just getting rid of some bad memories." Elisa said, holding up one of the pictures of Dracon from the file before tossing it into the flames. It burned slower than the paper, and the stench from it was almost unbearable.
"Dracon was murdered by a fellow inmate." Goliath explained as Elisa dumped more pictures of Tony into the flames. Some were mug shots, but most were candids taken by the cops assigned to trail him. Pictures of Dracon doing those everyday things that people do... it was so hard for Elisa to think of Tony as people. He'd been a monster. A gunrunner, putting weapons in the hands of those who would do harm. A drug pusher, poisoning the youth of the city. He deserved everything he’d got.
But she still couldn't block out that look in Marian Dracon's eyes. That look would likely haunt her dreams for several nights.
But Elisa was done with the Dracons. Marian and Dominic were all that was left, and Dominic was too old to cause much trouble. And Marian... she'd never gotten so much as a traffic ticket. For the daughter of an old Mob family, she was surprisingly boring. The poor bastards who'd been assigned to keep tabs on the Dracons had spent many an hour observing the older sister of Tony, and come to that conclusion long ago. The only thing that had made her the least bit dangerous was her seeming unwavering loyalty to her older brother. She'd visited him every week he was in prison. She'd been so happy when the parole board announced that they were letting him out.
And Elisa had destroyed her world.
"Hey!" Brooklyn snatched the picture Elisa had been about to toss out of her hand. "I know this woman!" he looked up from the picture to Elisa, then turned it to face the detective. "She tried to take a swan dive off a building tonight. Who... who is she?"
Rating: PG-13
Universe: Gargoyles
Summery: Life for Brooklyn just got a little more complicated.
Brooklyn didn't like hospitals very much. The smell of the disinfectant stung his nose, and the healers (Doctors, he corrected himself. They're called doctors and nurses.) always seemed too detached from the people they were supposed to be healing. Though that seemed to have become a blessing in this moment, since they seemed quiet willing to ignore the big red gargoyle in their midst so long as he didn't get in the way.
The fact that he'd used the credit card Xanatos had given him to pay the woman's bill had probably greased the wheels, but he didn't care to dwell on that. He chose to concentrate on the woman in the bed. She wasn't lovely, even on closer inspection. Her hair was coarse, like a horse’s, and bore faint streaks of iron gray, though her body spoke of youth. She had hard lines around her mouth and across her forehead. A woman made old before her time. Her naturally dusky skin (a few shades lighter than Elisa's, he noted absently as he held her hand) did nothing to cover the pallor of illness. The one doctor that had been willing to speak to him had said that she had attempted to overdose on several 'sleep aids' and enough alcohol to put even Hudson in his cups.
This was a woman who had wanted very badly to die; not that Brooklyn was going to allow it. The woman's eyes fluttered open for a moment before settling into a half-lidded blank stare. Her eyes were as dark as her hair, and dull with drugs and pain. "Hi." the red gargoyle said softy. "Feeling better?"
She let out a gut wrenching sob, her whole body shaking. Brooklyn froze for a moment, his hand still holding hers. "Hey. Hey. Shhh... it's alright,” he said, leaning forward to stroke her hair like he might a child's. "It's alright..." He didn't really know what else to say, and some gut instinct told him that it wasn't alright. Something had to be very wrong to drive a woman to try and turn herself into a gooey smear on the pavement.
It seemed to be forever before she finally stopped crying. Her eyes were red and puffy as she lay back against the sheets. She didn't even seem to notice him. Brooklyn didn't know if this was a good thing or a bad thing.
*****
Elisa flipped through the pages of the novel long file, looking at the pages but not really seeing. She'd typed half the reports herself, and she knew it backwards and forwards. The name was printed in black block letters across the tab. Dracon, Antoney Michael. There was an exact copy of it still at the station house, and a digital one on the computers. This was the copy that Elisa would take home with her to pore over. This was the copy with the coffee cup ring and the pizza stain. The one that smelled faintly of her mother's perfume. The one with her handwriting scribbled in the margins, complete with a little doodle of Dracon being hung upside down by his foot by Goliath while Elisa battered him with a baseball bat.
Wood smoke filled her nostrils, bringing her attention back to the here and now. Hudson looked up from the small fire he was building from fallen wood scavenged from Central Park. "’Tis almost ready, lass." he said, giving the fledgling flame a slight prod with a stick.
"Are you sure you want to do this, Elisa?" Goliath asked softly, one hand resting gently on the detective's shoulder.
"Yeah, Big Guy. I need to do this. Get the bastard out of my system once and for all." She stepped up to the fire as it began to leap and dance, then tossed the first page of the file onto the flames. It caught almost before it hit the wood, burning cheerfully and filling Elisa's nose with the acidic stench of burning paper and ink. The second page joined it not long after, then the third, then the fourth... each one adding the flames, which burned away Tony Dracon's life into nothing more than fine gray ash.
The fire wavered and danced away as one of the clan came in for a landing. A quick glance up revealed a dour looking Brooklyn, who caped his wings and ran a hand through his messy main before approaching. "What's up?" he asked, his voice unusually subdued.
"Just getting rid of some bad memories." Elisa said, holding up one of the pictures of Dracon from the file before tossing it into the flames. It burned slower than the paper, and the stench from it was almost unbearable.
"Dracon was murdered by a fellow inmate." Goliath explained as Elisa dumped more pictures of Tony into the flames. Some were mug shots, but most were candids taken by the cops assigned to trail him. Pictures of Dracon doing those everyday things that people do... it was so hard for Elisa to think of Tony as people. He'd been a monster. A gunrunner, putting weapons in the hands of those who would do harm. A drug pusher, poisoning the youth of the city. He deserved everything he’d got.
But she still couldn't block out that look in Marian Dracon's eyes. That look would likely haunt her dreams for several nights.
But Elisa was done with the Dracons. Marian and Dominic were all that was left, and Dominic was too old to cause much trouble. And Marian... she'd never gotten so much as a traffic ticket. For the daughter of an old Mob family, she was surprisingly boring. The poor bastards who'd been assigned to keep tabs on the Dracons had spent many an hour observing the older sister of Tony, and come to that conclusion long ago. The only thing that had made her the least bit dangerous was her seeming unwavering loyalty to her older brother. She'd visited him every week he was in prison. She'd been so happy when the parole board announced that they were letting him out.
And Elisa had destroyed her world.
"Hey!" Brooklyn snatched the picture Elisa had been about to toss out of her hand. "I know this woman!" he looked up from the picture to Elisa, then turned it to face the detective. "She tried to take a swan dive off a building tonight. Who... who is she?"