The door banged open, startling Jack. He cringed into his corner, keeping a wary eye on Farragut.

"On your stomach," Farragut said, swiftly crossing the room.

"I-I didn't do anything," Jack insisted. He looked away and breathed shakily. There was no way Farragut could have found out about his arrangement with Tara.

"You did something. Set some shit up. It's gotta be you; there ain't no other explanation."

Farragut tilted his head as he knelt beside Jack. "Boss-man ain't happy about it," he whispered, his eyes roaming over Jack's shaking form.

Jack swallowed and stared at his knees. He let out a strangled groan as Farragut grabbed him by the hair on the nape of his neck and forced his head up.

"Look at me."

Jack tried to shake his head.

"Look at me, or I'll be paying a visit to that black bitch you call a friend."

Jack trembled as he forced his eyes open and looked at Farragut. His fear drained, and he took his worry-free moment to admire Farragut's beauty.

So, so pretty. Shame about the attached personality.

"Get on your stomach."

Jack complied. He lay with his head on his arms, blinking lazily at the wall. The mattress reminded him of his own. Cheap. Not particularly comfortable. On the floor in a corner.

He should get a bedframe. Kieran offered to get him one. They could go shopping. Find something nice. Not too nice. Maybe he should just get some cinder blocks and plywood.

The mattress shifted with added weight, and he frowned as Farragut settled onto his lower back. His heart beat wildly in his chest as apprehension for what came next grew.

A line of pressure ran from one shoulder to the other, quickly followed by sharp pain. He whimpered as a finger swiped along the fresh cut, pressing in.

"This is what happens when you don't behave, babe. You know I don't like to hurt you," Farragut said, leaning down. "Here, I'll kiss it better."

Jack hated Farragut's kisses. He blinked at the wall. He was still foggy, but he was completely aware of the tongue running along his back and the delighted moans bouncing off the concrete walls.

If he tried, would he be able to buck Farragut off and escape?

He licked his lips and slowly moved his arms. He blinked away the cloying fog, finding it to be like fighting sleep. He resisted shaking his head and slowly took a deep breath. With everything he had, he pushed up and rolled over.

Farragut yelped in surprise as he was thrown to the floor.

Jack ran to the door and struggled to open it, panic seeping into his bones. He pulled open the door and rushed out.

Bouncing off a large body, despair strangled all coherent thought.

Hands grabbed him by his upper arms and pushed him back into the room. He landed heavily on the floor. Frozen in fear, he stared at the scuffed up work boots that blocked the doorway and his escape.

He should have known better. He should have stayed put and endured his punishment. It was familiar, and he knew he'd get through it.

Pulled up by his hair, he screamed and clawed frantically at the hand that held him. White hot pain seared into the meat of his shoulder.

A strong arm wrapped around his chest, and lips pressed against the shell of his ear in a mockery of affection.

"Baby, if you keep struggling, I'm gonna have to start cutting pieces off. Don't need those pretty hands this time around, do you?" Farragut whispered.

Jack panted as he desperately tried to remain still. His body spasmed, and he swallowed as he blinked away the tears in his eyes. "I'm sorry," he said hoarsely. "I'm sorry. It hurts. I didn't mean to. I'm sorry, Michael. Please make it stop."

"I'll stop hurting you, when you stop hurting me."

"I didn't mean to hurt you. I-I waited. I stayed put."

"You've been hanging out with that cop," Farragut said with a growl, shaking Jack. "Got yourself a real nice boyfriend, too. Doesn't look like waiting to me, Sparky."

"We broke up. He wanted more, and I didn't. It wasn't… I couldn't…couldn't…" Jack trailed off, fighting against the remnants of Farragut's thrall.

"Couldn't let him fuck you?"

He nodded, latching onto the excuse.

"You wanna apologize?"

Jack swallowed and closed his eyes. He just had to last long enough to be found. He had to believe he would be found. Sam had to be close with how angry Farragut was.

He could survive this.

Jack nodded.

"Get yourself off," Farragut whispered into Jack's ear.

Jack's heart sank. "I can't. Not like this. I'm sorry. I would. I would, I swear. I can't. I'm sorry. Michael, please. I mean it. I'm sorry."

"Don't worry. We're gonna try something else."

"S-some—"

Fingers were in his mouth and out before he had the chance to process it. Farragut's hand clamped over his mouth, and he was horribly aware of the small pill resting on his tongue. Terror settled in his gut.

"Swallow."

It took a bit, but he finally managed to swallow down the pill.

"There we go. See? You did such a good job. I'm so proud of you," Farragut said as he moved into Jack's line of sight. He gently petted Jack's hair as he smiled.

A small sliver of bliss fought against Jack's overwhelming uncertainty and fear. His crippling fear won out.

Farragut pulled Jack closer and swiped his tongue along the wound on Jack's shoulder. He sharply pulled away with a sneer. He reached into his coat and pulled out a pair of butterfly bandages and tossed them onto Jack's lap.

"I'll see you in an hour," he said as he stood and strode to the door. He pointed at the guard. "You. Make sure he doesn't throw that shit up."

Jack zoned back in and scrambled away from the looming man, clutching at his bleeding arm. He huddled on the mattress as he attempted to apply the butterfly bandages. He probably needed stitches.