Gargoyle

A/N - this idea came to me, and it literally would not leave me alone until I wrote it. Seriously. It's 3AM where I am, I have a pounding headache because I'm so tired, but I couldn't stop writing. In light of this, I am sure there are errors - please please, if you see any, point them out to me so I can fix them when my brain isn't dead.

On a completely random note - is it just me or is AFF getting ridiculous with warnings? Seriously, NoSex is now a warning - and it explains everything. If you're on this site,and you don't know what anal sex, or a hand job is, well, someone lied on the age page. /random rant

This is a one-shot. I may make it a two-shot if enough people ask for it, but if you do, don't whine about which way I go with it. The ending is ambiguous; you can decide what you think happened. If I make it into a two-shot, you can no longer do that :p

Actually, the whole thing is rather ambiguous; lots of different conclusions you can draw from it. I'd be interested to see what people pull from it - see how far it is from my inspiration.

Very different than my normal stuff, but enjoy, Shutting up now and going to bed.
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He looked out the window. At this time of the evening the dying sun glinted off the roof, bathing his face – distorted as it may now be – and gave the illusion of life in the slate-gray carved eyes.

How long had it been? How many years had he stood here, each twilight, even when the day had been cloudy, and the chance to see him wasn't there? There were other spots, mostly in the gardens, that he could stare at the stone figure as long as he wanted – and there were times he did just that – but only this one spot was at the perfect angle to see that lie of life.

He had read – long decades ago – that gargoyles came to life at night, to chase away evil spirits, and to guard their domains against harm. It was hard to know which was worse.

Perhaps, if the figure did move, rise from his eternal perch it wouldn't be to embrace him as they had in the past. The reason behind the original transformation was probably just that; a hope that he could be killed by the stone creature brought to life. Perhaps the love they had held was gone with the humanity the other man had once had. Instead, that stone statue, bent and twisted from the once tall and proud man, would come after him to rip him to pieces, destroying the evil in front of him as it was supposed to.

Or maybe it would still be him, just blinded by anger and pain; coming for revenge for the torture he had suffered over the centuries. It certainly appeared that the figure was in pain; mouth open in a grotesque scream, speaking of anger, and rage, and hurt. All things that he had never felt in life and he could only hope he wasn't feeling now.

But once again, the slight glimmer of false life faded away, and the creature did not move from the roof. If he had any friends, they may have questioned him, staying in the same house as his transformed lover, to watch for decades – centuries – millennia, and be able to do nothing. It was slow torture, and he was fairly sure he was either going insane, or had already fallen off that precipice. He never saw anyone to tell him otherwise, at least. But leaving was not an option – he didn't stay idle, after all. Each year, he would clean the figure of the dirt and debris that would cover the gray 'skin', wash the stone and treat it, and stand guard over it.

If he left, if he either abandoned or sold the house he had lived in his most of his life, or at least the part that mattered, the statue would eventually be destroyed, whether through neglect or the changing times. Gargoyles were certainly no longer in style; at least not as anything more than curiosities.

Perhaps that was why his love never moved. The belief was gone, along with the magic that had given birth to his change.

He turned away from the window as the doorbell rang. The best part of the newest century was the fact that he could have food delivered to his door.
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Antoni stared at his lover, not wanting to believe what he had just heard. It was unheard of, stories the old women told to scare the children into the wagons at night. They were supposed to be hideous, and evil, and Lucian was neither of those things.

But here he was telling him this…story…and trying to stop him from leaving with his family. He wanted to stay. He would have stayed, with or without some fantastic story. But now, now he didn't know what to think.

"Ant? Please, say something." Ernest green eyes stared at him, begging him to – what, believe him?

"I have seen you – during the day. How can you be what you say you are?" Not that he could see what could be gained by such a lie; perhaps the man had been mad this entire time and he just hadn't noticed?

Lucian shrugged, clearly uncomfortable. "Most of what you know is not true. They are myths used to inspire fear, and control the masses. Besides, that is what I call myself, because it is the closest, but it is not really accurate either. I have yet to come across a legend that is."

"Why are you telling me this now then?" The shorter man glanced away, a blush tainting his fair cheeks. Antoni couldn't resist reaching out and cupping the cheek closer to him, enjoying the contrast of light and dark shades. That is what he had always thought – they were night and day. Antoni, with his dark hair, dark eyes, and dark skin, was the night; and Lucian, with his golden hair, flashing green eyes, and skin pale and only slightly sun-touched, was the day.

Except his sun had come crashing down.

"Because I want you to stay. Not just when your family leaves, but for as long as I live, and I don't know how long that will be." Hopeful eyes turned up at him for a second, and a small, delicate hand reached up to cover his own. The look was deceiving; Lucian had always looked so fragile, but he was far from it. Now Antoni knew why.

"You want to make me like you." It was spoken softly, but surely; the answer was obvious.

Lucian gazed at him earnestly. "Is it really so bad? We would be together, and the consequences aren't as dire as you seem to think."

"I would leave my family. I could never return; I would be an evil creature; unclean." Antoni met his gaze, cringing inwardly at the flinch his words caused. He did not – could not – see Lucian as evil. But now that he thought about it, little things were making sense. Small things, that if he had given Lucian the attention one man would normally pay another, wouldn't be noticeable. But for lovers, it was almost inexcusable to have missed it. Or he had just been willfully blind to the truth – Lucian was not human.

There was no denying that, even if the words hurt, and the elder simply nodded. "Yes. But were you not planning on doing that anyway?"

Caught, Antoni sighed. "You said however long you live. How long is that? How old are you?"

"I will be 877 this coming summer." This was said calmly, as if he were stating what he was going to have for dinner. Although, in Lucian's case, Antoni preferred to not know what was for dinner.

"Eight hundre…so you would have been Roman then?" The look screamed it; he had always assumed a Roman heritage; not that that was uncommon in the area. But he had to concentrate on the trivialities when his mind rejected the sheer amount of time his lover had been alive.

"Yes – the name I was born with was Lucius, but I have changed it with the times." Lucius shrugged, embarrassed about a lie so small, but at the same time, so intimate.

"Lucius…Lucian…" He savored the feel of his lover's real name, and decided it fit him much better. Antoni looked away staring in the direction he knew his family was, but his decision had long been made. "When I came here to see you, I was willing to leave everything behind for just a few short decades. I will gladly leave it behind if we have centuries to be together. It is just all a bit of a shock to me."

Lucius opened his mouth to speak, another plea, when he realized what Antoni had said. He pulled the younger man towards him, kissing him as passionately as they had the first time they had met, both pulled by the danger of the illicit meeting.

When they finally pulled away, Lucius looked at Antoni seriously. "We must wait a few days. Give your family time to leave and accept that you are not joining them"

Antoni nodded; agreeing with the caution. His family was a superstitious group, and they were less likely to miss the signs Antoni himself had missed. Hopefully it wouldn't also give him time to back out of his decision out of fear. There was no way he could live with himself for doing something like that to Lucius.

He opened his mouth to respond, but never got the chance. Both of the men's eyes widened in shock as they saw the matriarch of Antoni's family approaching them, a grim look on her face. Antoni subtly slid himself in front of his lover, hoping futilely that his presence would protect him. She clucked her tongue, shaking her head at him as her gaze swept over both men. Antoni was surprised to note that she didn't seem afraid of Lucius, as he thought she should have been given what she thought he was.

"Oh my Antoni. I cannot allow this. Your beauty has always been your curse. It pains me to do this, but it will keep you from a worse fate, and will both punish and stop the evil that has seduced you."

Neither man was sure what she meant, but no sooner had she said her piece than a strange light surrounded Antoni, weaving and warping the air around him. With a cry of denial, Lucius tried to reach out to him, but it hurt him; burning like all the myths said he should burn in the sun. Lucius continued to try to reach through to Antoni, but all he was able to accomplish was scalding his hands as the smell of burnt flesh filled the air. He cried out in despair as Antoni's mouth opened in a silent scream. It was easy to see what the woman had meant – the sight of his lover in pain was an effective punishment, but unwarranted for him. Lucius wanted to scream at her, tell her she was right, he had seduced the younger man, beg her to let him go, but when he was able to tear his eyes away from the sight of Antoni, she was already gone.

The other man moved – the light lifting him up, and Lucius followed, frantic not to let his lover out of his sight. It didn't go far – just to the back of the house, over the gardens that Antoni had enjoyed so much. It came to rest on an outcropping on the roof, and faded away. But instead of Antoni, there was a stone creature, face still warped in a scream, life forever extinguished from its inhuman eyes.

Lucius stayed there until his hunger forced him to move; wishing for the first time in his long life that suicide was possible for him.
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The wind shook the shutters at Lucius stood at his normal place in front of the window, despair threatening to overwhelm him. There would be no glimpse of his love that night, but he would stand there regardless. It was a significant night – tonight it would be a full millennium since Antoni had been taken from him. A year in that house - leaving only when critically necessary, thinking only of his lost lover, his thoughts and dreams getting darker and darker.

Around the statue, the house had been modified; parts torn up, parts added, some parts changed to fit with the modern standard of living. On the front, the house looked like every other house in the area; it's one inconsistency hidden in the back, away from prying eyes and destructive children. Blending in was essential to avoid the eyes of a nosy government; he had none of the papers a normal citizen needed (though the remains of his papers for Rome were still kept in a safe, unreadable as they may be) and since he never ventured out, he had no contacts to have fake documents made. Or at least he assumed there were still people who forged that sort of document. Society may have changed around him; into something he could never have predicted, but the basic nature of humans remained the same. But as long as he didn't draw attention to himself, he was left alone to guard his only reason for existence.

Even with all his attention, the stone was wearing down. The wings were still obvious, as was the screaming mouth, but the eyes were mere indents, and the claws were indistinguishable from the roof there were attached to. He wondered how much longer it would take until even those few things disappeared into history. One day, there would only be a small lump to show where he had stood, and that, too, would eventually wear down to nothing.

At least, even if the statue was gone, Antoni would live on. He had transcribed everything of their short time together, everything he could remember of the man, into journals, written and re-written as the materials improved. Now they were even on the 'internet' – although, speaking as one who had seen entire empires come and go, he doubted even that would keep his words intact forever. But he'd be around to keep the memory alive. Besides, writing out his memories let him relive the time they did have together.

Lightning crashed through the sky – the storm was one of the worst he had seen in decades. Lucius had already heard the crash as several trees fell; some of them quite old. At least there would be a lot of work to keep him occupied for a while. His gaze returned to the gargoyle, waiting patiently for the next flash of lightning and a glimpse of his lost love.

He didn't have long to wait; the lightning lit up the sky, and for a moment he thought he could see Antoni; his human face restored, happy and open, his eyes alive with the light and love he had shown so long ago. There was a crash; much closer and much louder, and Lucius waited to see what had fallen.

The sky lit up one last time, as Lucius' gaze was drawn, this time unwillingly, to the space that Antoni's gargoyle had stood for so long. The space that was now empty, pieces of mortar hanging haphazardly off the roof. Too stunned to speak, Lucius continued to stare, long after the lightning had faded.

He sank to his knees, eyes still unseeing. All of these years – the waiting, the hoping, and the care he had given – and it was now over.

The gargoyle was gone.