Brooklyn was still lying down in the same spot, cradling his broken arm that was snapped by the elbow for the last three days, wheezing softly from a high fever that grew ever since Thailog broke his arm. Water quenched his burned, raw throat, but the fever brought along even further hallucinations and nightmares that were guaranteed to drive the red gargoyle nuts.

He hoped soon that somebody would show him mercy and fix his arm, for leaving it broken like this would kill him in at least another two days, plus he missed turning to stone every morning that could heal almost anything.

The cell door clicked and opened, but he hardly moved, as Thailog came in, seeing if Brooklyn had suffered enough.

He clearly had, for the young one was struggling against a fever, thanks to the drugged water and broken arm. Brooklyn hardly acknowledged his appearance, only looking up weakly, then letting his head fall down limply.

Thailog then decided now was the time to make sure his plaything was almost well recovered before any more tests occurred, because he wouldn't last ten seconds from what he had next for him.

Putting on a terrible smirk, he knelt down, first feeling his hot forehead, then cupping Brooklyn's face to look at him. Brooklyn gave a little moan.

"Guess you decided not to try escaping anymore? Good. I shall grant you a reward for heeding my commands. Your arm and fever will be fixed. You need to be in condition for any further tests and discipline." he purred softly.

Brooklyn trembled silently at the idea of being healed, only to be broken again, but knew he couldn't back away if Thailog would break his arm a second time.

They then put Brooklyn on a gurney, strapping him down except his broken arm, wheeling him into the examination room, where the doctor looked quite eager to look over this purebred gargoyle again after seeing part of the inside of his stomach during his previous discipline.

Maybe I can ask Thailog permission to look inside him when he is more stable. It will be perfect to gather samples for my research that isn't from a clone. The doctor thought, stroking his chin thoughtfully as he looked over the sickly gargoyle.

Brooklyn wished for everything to stop spinning, crying softly as he heard monitors beeping around him, knowing that this was the big arm surgery. The doctor held down his shoulder when he tried to sit up.

"Don't move. I still need to repair you, Creature, before you can continue with the master. He wishes for you not to be asleep for this operation, to ensure that you won't try escaping again."

That sent waves of nausea and fear through Brooklyn, as the doctor began to pull out the tools. His heart rate increased, beating in his mouth, and flinched, hoping this operation wouldn't last long.

Brooklyn kept struggling until the doctor had had enough of trying to hold him down and injected a needle into his stomach. He felt the prick, gasping, as his muscles suddenly fell limp and useless, for they had been numbed, making him completely helpless for the operation, but not to fall asleep.

Thailog watched nearby, smirking at his plaything's discomfort. Brooklyn whimpered weakly, while the doctor mended the bones, along with placing a cast on his arm. The bone structure on this one really was impressive, even if it was broken.

It took quite a while, but finally the bones were repaired and the cast was on that covered up to his elbow, except the hand. The doctor even gave Brooklyn a medicine to tone down his fever before they brought him back to his cell.

Brooklyn felt really weak, but the muscle numbing was slowly wearing off as he pulled into his corner, testing his arm gingerly, but felt no pain. The doctor seemed to do his work well enough. The red gargoyle curled on the floor to try sleeping the rest of it off.

An hour later, he jerked in fear as Thailog came in to see him, kneeling next to his victim, who trembled.

"I'm willing to let you recuperate for another few days with fresh food and water to build up your strength. But never try to get away again, or else," he said threateningly, making Brooklyn press himself against the wall in fear, nodding again.

Tracing his finger under Brooklyn's chin mockingly again, he left him a regular non-drugged glass of water when he left, to give his victim a false sense of security.

A day later, Brooklyn could already feel that other medicine the doctor put in him was cooling down his fever, allowing him to breathe a little better, though Thailog left his shackle on.

It wouldn't be like him to let me heal completely; he would still want to keep hurting my stomach, Brooklyn thought bitterly, hugging his arms around himself before spotting the new water, and deciding to have a small drink.

It went down his throat nicely since the operation, cooling him down, as he gave a small moan of relief from the cleansing liquid. Brooklyn lay down, head no longer feeling funny, having a feeling that this time there wouldn't be any nightmares for tonight.

....

Meanwhile, the man named Carlos that Brooklyn hurt was having his scars treated, vengeful thoughts surging through his brain to that one prisoner. He was gonna get his way to hurt him back for revenge. Carlos decided that when he got the chance, he would request Thailog to deliver Brooklyn quite a painful test or something else that would discipline him even more than that shackle he had on.

....

Brooklyn could already tell he was getting stronger each day, continuing to dread the new coming tests while he finished another sandwich the guards left him. He still didn't like eating food from his enemies, but Thailog threatened him constantly so he had no choice but to accept it.

"I trust you're enjoying your meals while they last?" sneered the chilling voice of Thailog on the fourth day, who had come to see him. Brooklyn frowned, a hand on his stomach and winced when the shackle pressed on it.

"If it were up to me, I wouldn't eat your filthy evil food and die so you can't ever torture me anymore!" he spat back at his captor, eyes ridden with hurt and sadness. The shackle squeezed harder than usual, cutting off his air, and Thailog took hold of his casted arm.

"You'd better be careful in what you say. Remember when I broke your little arm?" he hissed, making Brooklyn shake from the pressure.

Brooklyn didn't reply, his heart burning with anger at Thailog, who pushed him back down to the floor, but not too roughly this time. He didn't want to damage his little plaything again as of yet.

"The guards will bring you for your next test tomorrow," he growled, closing and locking his cell again. Brooklyn readjusted himself to lie back against the wall, holding his casted arm close to his chest, shivering. He still hated Thailog threatening him this way.

Please hurry, guys! He's gonna kill me with these new tests! Brooklyn thought miserably.

....

Puck had finally managed to trace the needle's origin, showing in his magic display image an old abandoned lab/prison building near the coast of New York. Broadway didn't like it.

"Gee, that place looks haunted and abandoned. You really sure Brook's in there?" he asked nervously. Puck rolled his eyes.

"Of course I'm sure! You want him back, then just trust me!"

Lex huffed. "It's rather hard for us to," he grumbled. Goliath stepped forward.

"Now that we know where Brooklyn is, we need to plan the perfect night to infiltrate it. And we need to bring medical supplies, too. Who knows what my 'son' probably has been doing to him."

Broadway blanched. "Ugh, I don't want to think about that!" he said, shuddering. Angela for most of it remained silent, small tears were leaking out at imagining Brooklyn trapped in there with that monster clone.

Hudson narrowed his eyes, while Goliath discussed what each of them would do. He was determined to get their lost family member and Second home, no matter what odds lay before them.