Carlos had one day thought of the first perfect plan for his revenge on Brooklyn, to poison him, only temporarily, since Thailog didn't want him killed instantly.

Smirking, he nodded at his plan, deciding to see Thailog about it, who was in his room deciding what to do next to Brooklyn after earlier having tied up his wing hands.

He saw the scarred guard come in, smiling a bit at those scratches reminding him of the infamous Hunter.

"If it isn't Carlos, how are your scratches?" he greeted, folding his hands together. Carlos growled, eyes flashing.

"All I know is one thing: he needs to pay!" he snarled dangerously, gripping the handle of a knife tight. Thailog remembered how Brooklyn tried to escape. Even when breaking his arm, the young one still fought back.

"Let's say we do this. What do you have in mind?" he probed, smirking, interested. Carlos did the same thing.

"First, make him desperate for food, since he isn't feeling so sick from that x-ray scanning anymore. Then I put a little poison in, to get him to squeal for mercy and relief," he sneered darkly, just imagining the whole thing.

This all sounded rather sweet to Thailog, who already remembered that drugged water. This could damage the little one's flame even further. He liked it.

"Carlos, you have my permission, but we should play with his trust a little. I will pretend to have no involvement, but only I have the antidote for him. It will make Brooklyn question his faith in his medical facility back at the Eyrie Building and test his trust," he said. "Do we agree?"

Carlos frowned, but nodded, shaking hands with Thailog.

….

Brooklyn suffered starvation pangs again, because Thailog had decided to torture him again with no food since his ultrasound, lying on his side, wondering why Thailog decided to stop feeding him again. Another test maybe?

His mind was too hungry to figure it out, as he continued to lie against the wall, taking in a few shuddering breaths as Brooklyn felt his stomach rumble, following the shackle squeezing from it. It didn't help either that Thailog had also secured his wing hands the day after his operation so he couldn't wrap his other wing around his body for comfort anymore.

Suddenly though, his eyes rounded at the sight of a different kind of food other than a ham sandwich that was brought in for him: it was chicken, right on the bone, fresh with a salad on the side. He could smell it, his mouth watering, as the man set it down.

H-have t-to eat it… He thought in dizziness from his starvation, staring. But he didn't trust this new gourmet that his enemies left him. Gritting his teeth, Brooklyn tried ignoring it, just drinking water, flinching from the constant stomach growl and shackle squeezing, until his hunger won. He couldn't let it spoil.

Crawling over, Brooklyn took the chicken, beginning to eat as fast as he could, unaware of the secret ingredient waiting to strike. The meat was heaven after nothing but sandwiches and that horrible force feed whatever it was.

He sighed, feeling the wonderful food hitting his stomach, satisfying him. Brooklyn's joy though was short lived, when Thailog came, grinning.

"What do you want?" Brooklyn mumbled fearfully, but trying to be bold. Thailog cupped his chin in his hand.

"I came to simply say that I hoped you enjoyed the once in a lifetime new meal, little one," purred Thailog in a sincere tone that sounded almost like how Goliath used to speak to him when he was a hatchling. Brooklyn shivered in fear from comparing Thailog to Goliath as he pulled his head out of those dark talons.

"J-just leave me alone," he said, crawling to curl up in his corner. Thailog frowned, but didn't strike Brooklyn for his back talk this time because he had to try and fool him with his false trust. Standing, he turned to walk out, closing the door.

Brooklyn wondered why Thailog didn't hurt him like he normally did when snapping but didn't care, hugging his body tight with his arms since his wings could no longer wrap around him to keep his body warm anymore, no thanks to the ropes around them.

….

Thailog hadn't called in Brooklyn for tests yet since his broken wing, making him feel nervous all over. Brooklyn occasionally paced sometimes, though he limped while doing so. So far, he only dealt with mini headaches and stomachaches, but the poison hadn't taken effect strongly yet. But he didn't know he took poison.

One day, while doing his usual pacing, a sharp stomach pain hit Brooklyn, and he flinched, a hand over his belly, wondering why Thailog decided to use the shackle after leaving him alone. He wasn't doing anything bad from his view.

Brooklyn began panting, shivering, his head suddenly bursting with heat from a new quick fever, chest hurting as his heart began racing so fast, thumping hard against his chest.

Mouth feeling parched, Brook took his water with a shaky hand, drinking the whole thing in one gulp. But that didn't feel like enough, as he began coughing badly from his dry, red throat, sinking to his knees.

It was hard for the red gargoyle to handle all his new ailments, stomach churning, hurting him, as Brooklyn gripped his head, shaking to clear it, threatening to throw up, and feeling so hot, though there was no sweat.

Eurgh… what-what's wrong wi-with me? Brooklyn thought groggily, shaking all over, hissing in agony from another pain in his belly. Thinking it was his shackle, Brooklyn growled, straining to pull it off and throw it away, but it seemed to stick into him like glue.

He kept whimpering, continuous stomach pains scratching away at his insides, shaking his head as Brooklyn felt his surroundings go all silly and blurry. It felt like something was eating his intestines, pulling hard at his shackle, desperate for this thing to come off.

The worst one yet made him give out the loudest scream, falling on his stomach, gripping the ground, crying out for help and release.

"GOLIATH!" Brook sobbed, choking on even further pain, becoming even more short on breath, tossing on the ground, even throwing up that came with blood mixed with it.

Carlos watched from the cameras, satisfaction raging in his body, Thailog next to him.

Eventually, Brooklyn let out a hoarse sigh, laying on the ground, unable to move or get up because he twitched so much from convulses and spasms, finding it even hard to breathe, inhaling hoarsely, feeling black spots swimming, until he could no longer sense anything anymore, warm numbness fogging his thoughts… so tired…

…

He struggled again with his shackle, that seemed to be alive, and Thailog wasn't using his remote. A cruel chuckle echoed inside him.

"So weak, it's delicious…" purred a voice, making him gasp in fear, wondering who was talking to him, sounding like Thailog.

"W-who's there?" he said hoarsely, looking around for Thailog. The voice laughed evilly again, and his shackle squeezed harder.

"The one who is secure around you right now…" sneered the voice again. And Brooklyn came to the terrifying conclusion that it was coming from his shackle.

"Please, g-get off of me!" Brooklyn choked, backing against the wall, pain flooding over his body. But all his shackle did was emit an evil laugh.

"Oh, but I do enjoy being latched onto your stomach and hurting you. Perhaps I could get even closer…" purred the shackle. Brooklyn took in over panicked cries, shaking his head, beginning to choke, his stomach on fire, the shackle's laughter ringing in his head.

"I want to be inside you, to be with you… forever…" the shackle said in a taunting tone. Brooklyn shook his head, erupting fear flooding his veins. "NO!" he screeched, writhing and twisting painfully, feeling so hot, so dizzy and short on breath, Thailog's maniacal laughing from the shackle roaring in his head.

"Try to take me off. I want to watch you struggle against me…" sneered the shackle, and Brooklyn couldn't control himself against its commands, struggling to do so, nausea overwhelming his senses, choking out a sob and collapsing on his stomach. Brooklyn began to breathe quickly and harshly, the shackle pressing on him so much, it caused his vision to shine red, then fade into welcoming oblivion….

….

Thailog had returned, seeing his plaything convulse violently, harsh rashes on his skin from reacting to the poison, as well as his eyes looking wider and larger than normal, frothing at the mouth and screaming, scratching the floor. He smiled at seeing him this way, unable to fight against the poison.

You have to cure him sooner or later, if you want to keep playing, said Thailog's inner voice. The dark one then nodded, ordering the guards to take him to the exam room.

Brooklyn was screaming nonstop, the guards trying to hold the poisoned gargoyle down, while Thailog had the antidote he had to drink.

He stared into his plaything's face, which was full of utter fear and pain, eyes overly large, mouth frothing with blood. Thailog narrowed his eyes, ordering the doctor to force open his mouth.

Brooklyn struggled obviously, but lost and his mouth was forced open. Thailog poured the liquid down his throat, making him choke and splutter.

It took a little time, but the antidote took effect, and Brooklyn's movements slowed, the young one whimpering, head tossing.

"He had been throwing up blood, I would need to clean it out of him." the doctor informed, a hand on Brooklyn's forehead. It was still hot, but cooling off now.

"Do whatever you have to. I have plans for this one's trust test," growled Thailog, taking his hand.

The doctor continued to do his best with healing Brooklyn. Once recovered enough, Thailog picked him up, taking Brooklyn to his quarters, placing him on his bed. He knew that for this charade to work in his favor, Brooklyn had to believe he was safe, not in an exam room or in his cell and he sat down on the side of the bed to wait for his plaything to wake.

...

Brooklyn groaned softly, opening his weary eyelids, light penetrating his vision, feeling himself lying on something soft that wasn't a gurney.

What happened to me? He thought wearily, feeling so sore all over, struggling to sit up, but was pushed down by a familiar taloned hand.

"Shh, just relax," crooned Thailog softly. Brooklyn gave a small frightful cry, holding his blankets over his chest, backing into the pillow.

Thailog stroked his forehead. "You had been poisoned, little one. But lucky for you, I had been able to cure you with the only antidote we have in stock I found a while ago while setting up this place. With Goliath and the others, it would've taken them longer to cure you."

Brooklyn was terribly confused at why Thailog was being so gentle after everything, unable to speak. They did have Puck to sometimes cure them with magic when their doctor couldn't, but even he couldn't trust Puck 100 percent for anything.

"W-why take me to your quarters instead of my cell?" he croaked.

Thailog chuckled. "To make sure that you were rested well enough before I put you back there. That cell wasn't a good place for a poisoned person to wake up in," he said.

Brooklyn's body was still tensed up, glaring hard at Thailog.

"I already spoke with the man who poisoned you in the first place. I myself had no idea he snuck it in. But we will make sure you aren't going to be poisoned again. I need you alive for more tests," Thailog said in a false, sincere tone.

But Brooklyn couldn't trust him, shaking his head. Thailog smiled, but not meanly, reminding Brooklyn of Goliath even more.

"As long as you just cooperate with what I want you to do willingly, you won't have to be hurt so much by me or be secretly poisoned by my men that you hurt violently. Can you do this for me?" he asked. But Brooklyn just kept glowering hatefully. For him, trusting this monster was as ridiculous as him mating with Demona.

"You're still crazy. There's no way I can trust you after breaking my arm, my wing, and heck, kidnapping me!" he snapped bitterly in a hoarse tone. Thailog nodded.

"Yes, but I wish to get better with you, Plaything, if you'd let me." he purred. Brooklyn trembled before he spoke. "I dunno. I-I still want to go home," he said, voice still hoarse. Thailog shook his head, squeezing Brooklyn's hand tight.

"No, my plaything, you still can't be set free. We still have so much to do with you."

Brooklyn was still unsure, but he knew Thailog wouldn't stop and maybe hurt him if he kept saying no and asking for freedom, so he did a tiny nod. Perhaps this was the best choice, he hoped. As long as he didn't have to have anything else broken or poisoned for a while.

Thailog smiled, stroking his cheek, making Brooklyn flinch again from this constant move. "I'm glad you're willing to do it," he said, feeling triumphant inside. So far so good, he doesn't suspect I will eventually send him to his next interrogation. He's getting close to breaking, I can feel it...

After a time, he brought Brooklyn back to his cell, leaving him with his thoughts and to rest until he saw him later for a future test, whenever that may be.

Brooklyn hugged his knees, his train of thought failing to run properly, mind overflowing with millions of questions, praying deep inside that he hadn't made yet another mistake in trusting blindly again for his enemy not to hurt him as much anymore, even if he wouldn't be set free yet. He still missed the sights and sounds of New York, turning to stone when the sun rose, etc.

A new set of tears flooded down his cheeks, sniffling as Brooklyn curled in a ball best he could to sleep off the pain from the recent poisoning. He couldn't sleep on his side so well anymore because of his stomach, so he laid against the wall, shaking and clutching his tender belly carefully so not to further damage it. Even though he had been given the antidote to the poison, his stomach still ached a bit.

Brooklyn got up once to see the rays of the setting sun filtering through the bars, sending a small emotional feeling of loneliness and longing in his soul for his freedom.