Perhaps this was his last meal. It wasn't extravagant, but then, Gabriel had never been in the situation that required him to contemplate what he might choose to eat before his death. Maybe he should have done that at one point... But he couldn't complain about something so trivial now---at least it was something. His previously burned tongue didn't taste much anymore, but that was a small relief. The burn might spare him from other tastes, depending on how far the kidnapper wanted to push him.

Sleep soon...? How could that happen? He'd do well to stay awake for the rest of his life now... But he only nodded, and was somewhat thankful when the man loosened the knots on his wrists. The pain in his hand was still there, but as long as he didn't try to move it much, it'd stop throbbing.

When he left, Gabriel was able to move a bit away from the metal ring that the rope was tied to. Now that the knots were a bit looser, and now that he felt able to move a little more, he might be able to bring his arms under him and get his hands in front of him... But he couldn't imagine what the man would do to him should he try that. He might see it as a form of defiance---of an attempt to escape... Gabriel shook his head at the little voice in his head, begging him to look for a way out. He wouldn't put his life on the line that quickly, or stupidly. No doubt the man would be back soon, and footsteps confirmed that. The young man was surprised to see a haul of mismatched blankets, comforters and sheets, among white pillows, tossed to the floor beside him. Perhaps the other man was taking at least a little pity on him...

"Th-thank you..." He spoke haltingly. "I... appreciate it... B-but do you think..." His throat constricted involuntarily, and he swallowed hard. "D-do you think you can tie my hands in front? I... can't m-move..." He shifted a bit, and lowered his head in submission. It was worth a try...

Byron crouched down and reached out to place his fingers beneath the captive's chin. He peered at the other man's blue eyes for a few moments in a disconcerting way before making a small grunting sound. His arms wrapped around the kidnapped man, and his fingers worked the knots free.

Byron shifted his tight hold so that the dark haired youth was tucked snugly against his body while he re-tied the limbs together as had been requested. The unexpected thanks had done it. And now ... Byron shivered, his eyes lifted towards the wall. It felt nice, holding someone, but this was a monster.

He was free for only a moment. Only a moment that let his hands begin a prickling wakeup, as they had quickly gone numb while tied tightly. He closed his eyes as the kidnapper put his hands in front and held him still, so tightly he couldn't be bothered to try to move until he was released. In a twisted sort of way, Gabriel was happy to be held onto. He had for so long craved some sort of human contact, and it was as if the stranger had searched for a reason to be so near him... But he shook his head, feeling such stupidity at the concept. Instead of considering it further, he looked up to the other man.

"Thanks... a-again. You... ought not listen to the other m-monsters. You're not bad, like they might say you are." He nodded shakily, and backed away slowly. He had to crouch as an animal when he did, but it was better than being bound in a far worse position.

The words were strangely touching, while being an admittance of what the youth truly was. A twinge of something, disappointment, stabbed through his heart. "I had really hoped you weren't one of them ..." The soft words drifted behind Byron as he walked away. He didn't want to hear anything more from the monster he'd captured.

It hurt a bit to think that the young man was one of those he hunted so diligently. Such a change of thought ... Byron allowed it to linger only a moment as he climbed up the stairs. He slipped into his first floor bedroom, got changed into loose flowing clothing for the night and then set to work. He was a programmer, and able to work from anywhere.

A few hours later, he was sleeping, twitching slightly at the dreams which surfaced.

Gabriel looked down at the words, so quietly spoken as the kidnapper left. "I..." I'm not a monster... "I wish I weren't... either..." He favored one hand as he moved to the pile of blankets and pillows, forming them into a thick nest close to where his rope was attached to the wall. He shivered a little as he settled among what he considered a safe place, pulling a heavy blanket over him and kicking off his thick-soled shoes. He had always preferred them, as they gave an extra inch of height. But now it didn't really matter. He closed his eyes in the near-darkness, hiding away.

His tossing and turning had him tangled and tied up, a virtual cocoon of rope and fabric. It took so long to get out of it he eventually didn't want to sleep anymore, having awakened far too much to feel tired. The knowledge that his kidnapper was right above him, so easy to return to finish him off. He closed his eyes and fitfully slept, but always woke when a creak or a whisper found its way into the room, through the floor, the wall, the movement of the rope that bound him.

There was no clock or window to tell time. But Gabriel woke from yet another bout of light sleep and rearranged himself to sit up, lowering his head when his blurred vision recognized the room. So it wasn't a nightmare...

The city lord stretched with a yawn, mumbling softly to himself of work to do. He scratched his head, undid the long braid of hair, and let his locks fall free. A few steps away from the bedroom and he was in his kitchen, making eggs and blts for himself and his captive. If Byron was honest with himself, he was kind of looking forward to sharing breakfast with someone, no matter how odd the circumstances were.

Plates in hand, he ambled down the stairs until he reached the hidden door. He unlocked it while balancing the plates upon one arm, then stepped inside quickly. A kick of one barefoot closed the door, and then Byron was settling down before his captive with a small smile. He was in a benevolent mood, and so undid the rope binding the other man. "Don't think of escaping ..." As long as the monster didn't misbehave, he didn't see why he couldn't allow it some kind of freedom as a reward of sorts. Maybe he could keep this one as a pet, it was so obedient, easy to handle...

He was so tired, so weary from the utter terror and lack of sleep that had plagued him through most of the day and the night that had followed. Gabriel couldn’t force himself to do much, not even when the door opened. A shiver forced its way through his body, of course, and fear gathered at the base of his conscious, and he felt that as long as he sat quietly and didn’t try to speak out of allowance, he might be able to avoid more pain. He was surprised to see his captor sit, then smile, and even more when his hands were freed. The deep red burn in his wrists wouldn’t go away anytime soon, and the simple splint-like bind that set his broken bone was free to be inspected. Simple, yes, but effective, and a little bulky.

He shook his head when his captor spoke. “I wouldn’t... dare...” He was too tired to try an escape. At least, for now. Maybe if the opportunity presented itself clearly... Maybe the man had slipped up, left a door unlocked, a window open somewhere, something that would let Gabriel get out and run to a neighbor... They weren’t so far away from other people, after all. But that was for a later date. For now the smell of food was too enticing, and he bent over the second plate to eat, allowing himself a few moments of silence before the kidnapper until he gathered the will to speak again: “What... Um, if you don’t mind saying, I mean... what’s your name...? Or, what can I call you...?” It was a simple question, one that didn’t need to be answered. And Gabriel had presented it as passively as he could.

"Byron. I mentioned it earlier, yesterday." The blonde reached out and examined the setting he'd made carefully. He shifted it slightly and made certain that everything in order. His eyes lingered on the rope burns. They marred such nicely colored skin ... Flinching back, breathing fast, Byron shook his head vehemently. "I didn't mean to drop it, didn't mean to break it. Stop yelling at me!" A flash of an image filled his mind, bruises forming on skin the same color as his captive's. Hands lifted, Byron tried to block the voice he heard from his ears.

It passed quickly enough, leaving Byron's good mood evaporated. Instead his grey eyes were steely again, angry even. He knew clearly that his memory was just that, but the captive resembled Darius to such an extent ... His hands fell away, revealing his features.

Mentioned it earlier...? Gabriel couldn’t recall having been told his captor’s name, but perhaps it had just slipped his mind. Whatever the case, he wouldn’t forget Byron’s name again. He let the man study his hand, feeling there was nothing wrong with it. As long as he wasn’t the subject of Byron’s anger, there couldn’t be anything to be afraid of... Until the man showed his erratic and unpredictable side again, making Gabriel shrink away and put a bit of distance between them, forced to be still when the wall pressed against his back.

Byron looked so angry again... It couldn’t be because of him, could it? Gabriel felt nauseous at the thought, and swallowed a few times. “Um... A-are you... okay?” He asked carefully. He didn’t know much about mental illness, but felt an outburst could be triggered very easily.

The soft spoken words made Byron sigh. Darius would never have said that. "I .. " This was a monster, he couldn't begin explaining himself! Then again, he wanted to keep this one as his pet. A pet was something you could confide in. "It will pass. Always does. Your skin is the same color as his ... I dropped something on Darius's arm, something heavy. It left bruises, so he started yelling at me about it." Byron shook his head, and began to eat his breakfast to avoid anymore words flying from his mouth.

He'd never told anyone about how Darius had treated him, the monster that the man had been. No one would have believed Byron anyway, not when he would have been accusing a prominent member of the community. He snorted at the thought. White coats could hide so many things from the eye, as could instability. That was why he'd made it his missions to rid the world of all other monsters. Maybe he could find a new one soon, and end it.

He felt safe enough to move forward again, but kept himself small. Gabriel couldn’t understand why he wasn’t dead yet, or on his way to the grave, but it was a little victory, perhaps. Byron’s words were a cold reminder of his parents’ behavior. Of course they began to resent him when he started his ‘heathen actions’, but a little accident on his part would end in a flurry of venomous words and sometimes, a raised hand. “I... can’t imagine.” He muttered. “He shouldn’t have done that to you.” An accident had made the one called Darius go into a rage? It was the basis of emotional abuse, or someone who was possibly just as deranged as Byron.

An uncomfortable pressure in his lower stomach made him shift a bit. No terrifying situation had ever been more awkward as well, suddenly, as Gabriel glanced up. “Erm, Byron... D-do you have a bathroom I could use, nearby...?” To think, he had a bad enough time asking for such a thing in public, let alone of the person holding him against his will.

Byron remained silent until the most unexpected of questions reached his ears. It snapped him from his thoughts with a startled expression. "Yes of course .. This way." He motioned for the younger man to stand, reaching out to grasp Gabe's arm tightly and guide him into the bedroom. He pointed to another door within the room, and pushed the dark haired youth towards it lightly.

"You can stay in here, it should be more comfortable for you ... Gabe." He intended on keeping his pet. He wanted his pet to want to stay. Hopefully this show of goodwill would help with that. Byron's hand slipped into his pocket to finger the keys that lay within. This door locked from the outside, and was soundproofed as well. There were no windows here either, but there was a bed, a bookshelf and a pack of cards.

Gabriel stood on somewhat numb feet, grimacing but hiding it as Byron grasped his arm hard. At least he was acting normally---or perhaps as normally as one can in such a situation. It was indeed nearby, through a bedroom simply furnished, but without windows. Of course that wasn’t exactly surprising. He turned to Byron and nodded quickly, stepping backward as he spoke: “Thank you very much. You’re very, very kind, I... appreciate what you’re doing for me.” Laying it on a bit thick, perhaps, but Gabriel was sure to garner some kind of positive favor for it. Or, he hoped desperately that it was the case.

He closed the door to the bathroom, flicking on the light and did his business, going to the sink and leaning against it to study his reflection. Amazing what a night of terror could do to wrought a sickly, exhausted shadow on the face. Gabriel’s hair was stringy and limp, his eyes shadowed and dull. The bite on his lip was evident. He shook his head, turning on the tap and running his uninjured hand under the cold water, splashing himself a bit to shock himself awake a bit more.

He stared at himself for a moment, and for some reason, his breath caught and he pressed his forehead against the cold mirror. He couldn’t find a way out of this that didn’t involve possible harm coming to himself, or even Byron, if by some freak chance he managed to get the upper hand. He doubted that.

He appreciated it? Byron stood frozen with a partially open mouth as he watched his captive walk away. The monster was surely trying to trick him ... That was the only time when Darius had ever been truly kind to him. Byron snarled, and moved to sit down upon the bed as he waited for Gabe's return. His pet would have to show his face once more ... Else dire consequences might result.

"Are you done?" Impatience twisted through the words. Byron fidgeted with the blankets. A pet didn't need to like their surroundings ... but they were more likely to stay if they did. What kinds of food did the dark haired boy like? He bit his lower lip.

Gabriel gasped at the impatient words yelled through the door. Perhaps not yelled---called in a lack of patience. He was taking too long. Quickly the young man reached up, grabbing his necklace and yanking it off his neck, and slipping the bracelets off his arm, setting all of it on the sink and hurrying to the door. Had he said too much? Were his intentions going the direct opposite way? He didn’t want to think about it as he opened the door and came face to face with Byron once again.

“I didn’t mean to take so long...” He apologized quickly, edging away from the door and back into the room. He twisted one of his uninjured fingers a bit, not knowing what else to do. What did Byron have in mind...?

Relief wormed it's way through Byron's thoughts upon seeing the monster return. "Tell me what things you like to do in your free time, and what food you like." This room would be more comfortable with things his pet liked, wouldn't it? After such a long time, Byron found it strange that he wanted to try and make someone else feel safe in his presence. Safe, when he had broken the other man's finger, kept losing his grasp on his memories ... That was a laugh. It was senseless, this sudden need to please, because of a few simple words spoken to preserve a life.

A life he should have ended the day before. Byron heard the thanks again in his mind, and sighed. No, he couldn't simply end this monster without provocation. He liked being appreciated, even if only grudgingly. "I've decided not to kill you. I want you to be my pet instead." That should ease some of the youth's worries at least.

So he was a pet now? Perhaps that was a little better than being considered a monster... Of course, Gabriel had always wanted to be someone's pet---just not in this manner. Well, now at least he wouldn't be harmed. No, he couldn't say that much yet---at least he wouldn't be killed. That was something, perhaps, if he didn't try to push his luck too much. Maybe he should save his words and spread them out a bit more.

Gabriel put his hands behind him, grasping his hands as well as he could despite the binding. "Um, well... I-I like to write... and draw... and I can carve... with wood, y'know... And, erm... I never really thought about what foods I like... I guess I can try anything... open-minded, really. I don't exactly consider myself picky..." Perhaps it would leave Byron open to less nitpicking around him, or if there were some other motive, it might dilute it a bit.

Wood carving was too dangerous a pass time to let continue under his watch. Carving utensils were edged blades, and far too like weapons. The rest though, writing and drawing, was harmless enough. Nodding to himself, the pale haired man left the room, locking it firmly behind him. He walked through his house, and then out into the outside world.

Without further ado, Byron clambered into his silver car and drove into the city once more. Unusually, his mind was not on seeking other monsters, but instead on what materials might be best for the hobbies which had been mentioned. His eyes traveled over the streets, and caught on a sign proclaiming the store to be one entirely dedicated to the supplying of artists with their materials. Parking the car deftly, the tall man sauntered inside and quickly started a conversation with one of the sales people. Not long after he was leaving again with a bag full of art supplies, a mixture of expensive things and other items that were less so. He didn't want to be remembered too well for his purchases after all.

He was half smiling when he walked into his warm home a couple hours later, clutching his offerings in one tightly crisped hand. Byron's heart beat fast, afraid despite himself that what he had gathered wouldn't please his guest. The thoughts plagued him, even as he made his way back down stairs to unlock the guest room. He placed the bag on the bed, his eyes searching for the youth he'd brought there so suddenly the day before.

As soon as the door locked from the outside, a sharp click that resounded in his ears stronger than it should have, Gabriel sighed shakily. Being in Byron’s presence was torturous, almost. His heart wouldn’t stop pounding, his head wouldn’t stop spinning... Perhaps if he played his cards right, he might... start to like it here. But he couldn’t imagine staying for his whole life... No, he couldn’t do that, he’d go crazy! Shaking the feelings away, Gabriel went back into the bathroom and closed the door. It was a full setting, and included a shower. Looking around the storage closet here, the young man found some towels and an open box of plastic bags. Well, they would be useful to put over his injured hand to keep water away from the binds.

He turned on the shower and made sure it was cold. Freezing, as it would do well to chase away what weariness remained and perhaps make him think a little clearer. It did him well to stand under the cold rain and wash away the filth he felt having accumulated throughout yesterday and this early morning. His hand clutched the bag tight, keeping water out, and he used his free hand to wash his hair, his body, and turn the water off. Gabriel didn’t want to take too much time in case Byron returned quickly, and he quickly returned to his day-old clothes. It was a negative impact on what cleanliness he’d gathered to wear dirty clothes, but it was all he had so far. Perhaps for a while.

He stepped into the bathroom and halted short when Byron appeared. When he looked down to the floor, his wet hair fell in long clumps in front of his face. But he spied the bag on the bed and stepped forward apprehensively. “You... t-this is for me?” He touched the bag---it was quite large, and many things were stuffed inside in a specific manner. Canvas rolls of white and cream tones, boxes of fine, soft colored pencils and slightly cheaper regular pencils. Outlining pens and copic markers, pastels, and tubes of oil and heavy body paints. Horse hair brushes in ten sizes, including a fan brush of the same material. Palates, towels to clean the brushes, and a few small sketchbooks. Gabriel shook his head, shocked beyond words for a moment. “I... don’t know what to say.” He finally admitted.

"And this." From behind his back, he pulled out another item which he'd chosen very carefully from the store. He'd wanted to hand it to Gabe himself. It was a hand bound, one of a kind, journal. There were hints of metal and glass affixed to the front cover with a key and gears. Byron had found it too nice to leave behind, though he would have no use for it. Perhaps Gabe would though. Hopefully the younger man liked emerald green, since that was exactly what color the leather had been dyed.

The programmer realized belatedly that in his flurry of excitement he'd forgotten to buy any writing tools. Later on perhaps he'd go and pick them up. "Your speechlessness, does that mean you like ..." He didn't finish the sentence, wasn't able to really. His mind had turned to other things, like the fact that his pet was wearing the same clothing as the night before. Of course he would be, what a silly over sight. That was something else he would need to get. Gabriel might not have realized it, but by distracting Byron so he was saving lives.

Gabriel gingerly reached out, taking the item offered and studying it. He couldn’t say it wasn’t amazing, something he’d never seen before. Leatherbound, a cover of dyed green, like nature. He couldn’t have imagined anything like this---in fact, he couldn’t have imagined anything at all after he was tied up. He glanced up, nodding to acknowledge his captor’s words. “I do, I... I’ve never been given... anything... before...” Indeed that was true. His parents celebrated Christmas, but never gave anyone a present. They disregarded birthdays and special occasions, and the closest thing he could account to a gift was the sparse paycheck he received every Friday.

But he couldn’t help but know distantly that Byron was simply trying to buy his desire to stay. He was called a pet, after all, and one tended to buy toys for their pets so the creature would find reason to stay. These were just toys for Gabriel to want to stay, or some kind of bid to grab his affection. Of course he was glad he was still alive, and not being monstrously tortured, but he couldn’t lose himself and feel these items were anything more than simple trinkets that were meant to keep him entertained. He had to get out, somehow...

Gabriel stepped back to sit on the bed. “I... You didn’t have to do this... for me.” Against his better judgment he was, unfortunately, feeling a bit sorry for Byron. His past had to be bad to have fallen into this delusional existence, considering himself a lord---and aptly named, too---and considering those who resembled Darius a monster... It had to be confusing sometimes.

"Never?" He wanted to find out more now. Byron's curiosity had been aroused. There was still plenty of time to go looking for other monsters later. Glancing at the dark haired man, he moved to sit upon the bed as well. It was hard not to wonder what kind of parents refused to give anything to their children. His parents, the former lord and lady, had been kind and good. Everything had been fine in his life, until Darius.

Letting out a sigh, Byron shifted a little uncomfortably. A flash of a white lab coat danced across his eyes, an evil looking grin filled his mind. The man froze, hands gripping the soft fabric of the bed's blankets as if his life depended on it. Byron forced his mouth shut, biting harshly upon his own lips to stop himself from launching into one of his usual tirades.

Gabriel shook his head, staring down at the journal in his hand and running a finger over one of the decorative gears. “No... Never.” Would Byron feel his little story to be a play for sympathy? Or would it actually work that way? He blinked hard and took a deep breath. “My parents weren’t exactly the kindest people... They wanted me to be strong, like the angel Gabriel, so they named me after him. And when I turned out weak... useless, in their mind... They thought slapping me around would toughen me up, but it just made me worse...” He sniffed, forcing back the tears that burned in his eyes. No... He wouldn’t cry again. Not again.

“They didn’t believe in gifts, or money, or attachment, so they didn’t go out of their way to make me... happy. I guess that’s a little self-serving on my part, but I’d have liked someone to say ‘I love you’, or do something for me. I got out of there as soon as I could. Not that anything changed after that.” A little bitterness leaked into his words then. He curled in on himself, hugging the book close to his chest. And to think---all it took was being held against his will to finally be shown some kind of attention.

The words slipping from the other man had him lifting his head, and drawing his mind away from the past. Byron was grateful for that. As the import of each word made it's impact, he frowned, anger clouding his eyes to hear that anyone had been treated in such a way by their own parents. A monster ... maybe that wasn't Gabriel, maybe it had been his parents.

"Everyone wants to be loved, and treasured, by someone else." As he spoke, Byron surprised himself by wrapping an arm around the cinnamon skinned youth. The younger man was beginning to get to him with his story, with his tears and personality. It could all be a ploy, Byron was aware of that. He would always keep that in mind.

Gabriel unintentionally tensed when a light weight fell across his shoulders, but when no pain came after that, he looked around. He had to admit Byron had a point. He had wanted to be loved. His parents definitely hadn’t shown love. Well, perhaps when he was young. But beyond six? That’s when he should have shown strength of body and mind, and he’d always been trusting, easily manipulated, weak, and that had simply made it easier for Byron. But he nodded. The man was right, after all. He wanted someone to love him, time and time again.

But what was he doing...? This was a man that had snapped his finger without provocation! Had thrown him about and knocked his head against the wall and kissed him and bit his lip... But he couldn’t think about that right now, no. That hadn’t been Byron... It couldn’t have been. It was a delusional man trapped in the same skin. Perhaps he could get out if he could just identify which was which...