Lost

Disclaimer: I don't own the Magnificent Seven, not making any money, just cheap thrills.

Warnings: Slash, Angst, Violence, Graphic Torture


Rating: FRT

Lost
Chapter 15


Rupert looked at the young man laying in the cell, hunger and distaste warring for dominance in his sharp features. "Bring him to the saloon," he ordered the men who accompanied him.

"Yes sir," the larger of the two answered. Opening the cell, he stepped inside and grabbed Vin by one arm, intending to drag him to his feet. To his surprise, the man he'd thought barely conscious, came to life with a vengeance; planting a foot in his gut, Vin kicked out knocking him into the wall. The thug's head connected with the hard surface, leaving him dazed as he slid down the wall.

Vin quickly took advantage of the surprise his unexpected attack had caused, pivoting, he again kicked out, catching the other man in the chest, leaving him in the same state as his partner. As much as he wanted to beat them to a pulp, Vin knew he couldn't spare the time. Barely sparing them a glance, he made his way to the back door and escape. Once satisfied that the alley was empty, he stepped out of the old jail into the night. Keeping to the shadows, he slipped away from the building.


A moan from the bed had Buck's head snapping up, a hopeful look lighting his eyes. “Come on, wake up damn you,” he fiercely whispered.

Ben struggled to open his eyes. Recognizing the sounds around him, he searched his sluggish mind, trying to remember what had happened to land him in the hospital. Finally he managed to crack one eye open, “Who are you?”

“Buck Wilmington, ATF,” he tersely replied.

“ATF?” Ben was confused, what did the ATF have to do with what Mr. Browner had going? “Wha' ya want?”

Buck forcibly held himself back, though he desperately wanted to grab the man and shake the answers he needed from him. “Do you know why you're here?” The puzzled look on the other man's face was all the reply necessary. “You were at Good Time Charlie's...an ATF agent came in, there was a shootout...”

Ben focused, the man's words were starting to bring back memories of the events that had put him here. “I got shot?” he asked, though it wasn't really a question.

“Yeah, they left you for dead.” Buck hoped that the knowledge his boss or partners had left him behind would be enough to loosen his tongue. “They took the agent with them, I need to know where they'd take him.”

Ben chuckled, “You don't think I'm gonna tell you anything do ya?”

“Look right now all we've got on you is a weapons charge, and assault with a deadly weapon, our agent gets killed and you're an accessory,” Buck coldly informed him. “You tell me where they'd take him and we can cut you a deal,” he offered.

“Ain't no deal you could offer me that'd make it worthwhile to talk,” Ben scoffed. He'd seen what happened to those who defied Browner, wasn't anyway in hell he was going to be one of them. Maybe if the only threat from the boss was death, he'd consider talking, but the things that would be done to him first were more than any man could take.

“You ain't heard the deal yet...”

“It don't matter, there ain't nothing you can say to change my mind,” Ben cut him off. “'sides, you can't charge me with anything,” he smirked, knowing the only charge that might stick was a minor weapons charge.

“Damn you,” Buck growled. Slamming his hand down next to Ben's head, he stood glaring down at him. “You tell me where they'll take him or you won't have to worry about what your boss will do to ya.”

Ben grinned, “This agent must be awful important to you. I kind of remember what he looked like, he didn't look like a relative. So, what is he to you Wilmington?”

“He's my friend and partner, now where is he?” Buck demanded again, this time grabbing Ben's gown at the neck and twisting it.

“Good looking kid, ain't he?” Ben smirked.

“What the hell does that have to do with anything?”

Ben was enjoying the confused, frustrated look on the agent's face. Anytime he could mess with the cops was a good day in his book. “How long I been here?”

Buck was having a hard time keeping up with the man's thought processes. He seemed to jump from one topic to another without any real connection that he could see. “They brought you in about 10:30 this morning, it's almost midnight now.”

“You're too late then,” Ben told him with a smile. Oh yeah, he was really enjoying this.

Buck could feel the blood draining from his face, no, god please no. “You don't know that,” he managed to choke out.

“He may still be alive, don't know about that, but he won't want to be.” Ben nearly laughed aloud at the return of frustration to Wilmington's face. “They'll torture him first, want to know who else knows about the operation,” he began, enjoying himself. “You don't even want to know some of the things they'll do to him. He's got him a fella working for him, spent time in 'Nam. That man learned a lot from the Viet Cong about torture, your friend will be begging for death by the time he's done with him.” He did laugh now, smirking cruelly as Buck staggered back from the bed, a look of horror spreading across his face. “Once they're sure they got all the information out of him they can, they'll start working on recouping some of the money they lost by having to deal with him. You know the old saying, time is money, and it takes time to torture a man to that extent.”

“What,” Buck paused, licking his lips. “What do you mean recouping?”

Ben laughed, “You really don't know, do ya? My boss makes movies Agent Wilmington, sometimes just bdsm and sometimes snuff films. Guess he'll put your friend in a snuff film, of course if he's good enough, maybe he'll keep him around for a while. Make a few movies with him,” he taunted the big man.

“You son of a bitch!” Buck snarled, grabbing the man and jerking him half out of the bed. “Where is he? Tell me damn you!”

Chris stepped into Ben Lewis' hospital room, the news he'd been about to pass to Buck, dying on his lips. Shit! “Buck, put him down,” he ordered.

“No! He knows where Vin is and he's gonna tell me.”

“Get him off of me,” Ben demanded.

“Shut up,” Chris snapped. “We don't need him Buck.”

“We don't?”

“Nope, Ezra's contacts came through, we know where they took Vin.”

“Bullshit!” Ben denied. “Nobody would tell you about Four Corners...shit,” Ben clamped his mouth shut. Damn, he was a dead man. Browner wouldn't care that they'd tricked him, only that he'd talked.

Chris smirked, “Looks like you're wrong, somebody did. We also know the man in charge is a Rupert Browner, Charlie's silent partner.”

Buck dropped Ben back to the bed, “What the hell are we waiting on?” he asked. Grabbing Chris' arm, he moved him towards the door.

Chris glanced over his shoulder at Ben, catching the speculative gleam in his eye. “Don't get any ideas, there's a guard outside the door,” he smirked. Lets Buck pull him from the room, jerking his arm free as soon as they'd cleared the room. “Buck stop, where are we going?”

“To Four Corners to get Vin,” Buck answered, giving Chris a disbelieving look.

“Where is that Buck? Where's our back-up? What's our plan?”

Buck hung his head, blinking back the tears that suddenly blurred his vision. “We got to get him out of there Chris, you don't know what they'll do to him.”

“Buck you know ya can't believe whatever that bastard told you,” Chris tried to soothe.

“Browner makes porn films Chris. BDSM and snuff films,” he added brokenly. “What if he decides to...” he trailed off, unable to go on.

“We'll get to him in time Buck, the rest of the team is waiting at JD's.” Chris frowned at the look of apprehension crossing his old friend's face. “I know you're not comfortable there Buck, but it's closest to the hospital and the sooner we make a plan, the sooner we get Vin back.”

Buck nodded, Chris was right. Vin was the important one, without another word he followed Chris out of the hospital.


Vin's freedom had been short-lived, twenty minutes after escaping he was recaptured. Dragged to the saloon, he was unceremoniously dumped on the filthy floor of the ancient building.

“Such disrespect,” Browner tsked. “Don't you know it's rude to refuse a man's hospitality Vincent?”

“Guess nobody ever taught me manners,” Vin smirked.

“Perhaps it's time we remedy that,” Browner smiled coldly. Nodding to his men, he stepped back to wait for them to get the young man secured to the chair. He smiled approvingly as they tied his wrists to the arms of the chair, he could feel a stirring of anticipation, already hearing the young agent's screams in his mind. “You can make this easy on yourself Vincent, all you need to do is tell me what your colleagues know of my business.”

Vin's only response was to glare at the man holding him prisoner.

“Are you certain of your decision?” Browner quietly asked.

Vin continued to glare, not giving the man the satisfaction of a verbal answer.

Browner shook his head, a sad, though insincere, smile on his face. “Very well, gentlemen...” stepping back, he allowed his men to do what they did best. He had to give the young man credit for stubbornness, in spite of the methodical beating he was receiving, he refused to cry out in pain. Well that would soon change, Rupert smirked, as one of the men picked up a pair of pliers.

Vin's eyes widened when he saw what the man held, but he showed no other outward sign of fear. Oh lord. no. Please, no. Don't do it. Somebody help me. His silent pleas were quickly halted as the man with the pliers grabbed one of his fingernails with them, slowly bending it backwards, forcing Vin to focus on holding back his cries of pain.

“Impressive Vincent, a lesser man would be sobbing by now,” Rupert commented from the sidelines. “Are you ready to answer my question now?”

“Go to hell,” Vin ground out.

Rupert studied his nails, “Perhaps, but I believe you will be there first.”

The smell of something burning tore his attention away from Browner and back to the men torturing him. Involuntarily, he began to shake his head as his muscles contracted in a futile effort to pull his hand away from the burning match head that was slowly being brought towards his finger. As the flame touched the sensitive skin, normally protected by his nail, Vin bit his lip until it bled. It was a useless effort, as the flame burned the tender skin, he began to whimper and groan. Before he could recover from this torment, a second nail was bent backwards, this time the skin beneath was cut before it was burned. Vin's screams filled the air, unknowingly to him, bringing a surge of pleasure to Rupert Browner.

“Vincent...Vincent,” Rupert called, slapping the young man's face to gain his attention. “What do your colleagues know?”

Vin gasped, the pain was intense, surprising him. He would never have expected that such a small area of skin could bring such overwhelming pain. “Go...to...hell,” he panted. The results were nearly instant. Browner stepped back; the men torturing him stepped forward and the pain continued.

Vin sighed gratefully as the men seemed to grow bored with the damage they were inflicting on his fingers. A scream ripped from his throat, oh god! The fingernails were being pushed back into place, slowly, excruciatingly, the pain worse than the reverse action had caused. Vin wondered why they were bothering. He didn't have to wonder long, as the nail sealed over the burns and cuts, the pain grew exponentially. By the time it was done, much to his shame, Vin was sobbing.

“You want it to end, don't you Vincent?”

“Please,” Vin whispered.

“What do you colleagues know?”

“No...can't, please...stop.”

“I can't do that Vincent, not until you answer my question,” Rupert insisted.

Vin gathered his strength, spitting in the man's face, “No.”

“That wasn't nice Vincent,” Browner admonished. “Not nice at all. Gentlemen, hurt him but don't mark him more than you must. I have an idea of how our Vincent will meet his end,” he smiled coldly as he stepped away. The sounds of the young man's screams, as the men in his employ eagerly inflicted as much pain as they could, were music to his ears.

“Not gonna...won't...talk,” Vin manged, his words slurred by pain.

“Oh I see that Vincent, this is just for my pleasure,” Browner smirked. “I believe we can cease this phase of the entertainment. Gentlemen would you position the cameras and make ready our star?”

“Star?” Vin asked, confused.

“You Vincent,” Browner smiled. “Don't you want to be a star?”

“No...please, no, don't do it! Please, don't, not that,” but Vin's pleas fell on deaf ears.

Having learned that this man could be dangerous in his own right, and knowing that desperation lent men strength, they took no chances. Grabbing a knife, they began to cut along the seams of their prisoner's clothes. Reaching down, they removed Vin's shoes and socks from his feet, before finally cutting the ropes that held him in the chair. Clamping onto his arms, they hauled him to his feet as his clothes fell away from his body, leaving him nude.

Vin struggled to break free of their hold, but hours of torture had left him weak. As they dragged him to the table they'd prepared, Vin could do nothing but pray that Buck would find him before it was too late. Please help me, please let Buck, let the team find me. God don't let this happen, please. Vin's struggles renewed as they bent him over the table edge, leaving him exposed and vulnerable. Even as they quickly secured his wrists and ankles to the table legs, he continued to fight them, unaware of the damage to his skin as he fought the ropes.

Rupert knelt down next to the table, soothingly brushing the hair from his victim's face. “You are a beautiful man, did you know that?” he whispered. “It's a shame you are in such a distasteful line of work. Perhaps if you weren't I would keep you as a pet,” he murmured. Browner looked up at the men who were beginning to ready themselves for their roles in this short film. Glancing between them and Vin, he came to a decision. “Gentlemen, I don't believe your services will be needed after all.”

“Boss?” the leader of the four questioned.

“I have changed my mind, Vincent will not become a star. No,” he softly spoke, brushing his hand over Vin's back. “He is much too special for that.”

Vin shook under his touch, his words penetrating the fog his mind had retreated into. He didn't want to die, but it was preferable to this.

“You sure boss?”

Rupert surged to his feet, picking up a knife, he attacked, slashing the man across his chest. “You dare to question me?” he roared as he loomed over the man now cowering on the floor.

“I'm sorry boss, don't do it please,” the man plead. “I didn't mean it like that, just trying to look out for you.”

Rupert instantly calmed, his cold blue eyes losing the flash of insanity, “I suppose that is your job, isn't it? I do appreciate the concern, but I know what I'm doing, I assure you.” Laying the knife on a nearby table, he returned to Vin's side. Rubbing his hands over the hard, young body before him, he smiled. “Yes, you'll make a fine pet, once I tame you.” Glancing at the others in the room, he tilted his head, silently ordering them from the building. He was gratified to see that they offered no further argument. Helping their compatriot to his feet, they led him from the building. The moment they were gone, Rupert began to strip of his own clothing. He smiled coldly at the fear he could see reflected in the blue-eyed tempter before him. “I like your fear Vincent, it excites me,” he calmly informed him, his voice thick with desire. Stepping forward, he held his penis in his hand, rubbing it over Vin's lips. “See how you excite me?” He didn't need an answer, the fear and disgust he saw in his victim's eyes was enough. Moving to stand behind the young man, he reached out, spreading the cheeks of his ass apart; he positioned himself at his entrance.

“No, please..don't do this. Please, god please don't. Just kill me, please not this,” Vin babbled, desperate to avoid Browner's plans for him.


Chris and the rest of the team had arrived in the old ghost town. Separating into pairs, they scouted the town. Meeting back at the old newspaper office, they compared notes. “Alright, we only have five men. Rupert Browner and four thugs, any ideas?” Chris asked.

“I say we go busting into that saloon before it's too late for Vin,” Buck growled.

“I know how you feel Buck...”

“No you don't Chris,” Buck interrupted.

Chris sighed, ignoring his old friend's anger, recognizing it for what it was. “We can't just go busting in Buck. We do that and Vin becomes a hostage,” he pointed out.

“Mr. Larabee, I believe our predicament has been resolved by the enemy themselves,” Ezra drawled from his position by the window.

“What's going on Ezra?” Chris asked.

“Mr. Browner's four friends are leaving the saloon. I suggest that four of us apprehend them, leaving Mr. Wilmington and Mr. Dunne to deal with their leader.”

“I like the way you think Ezra,” Chris smirked. Watching the men, his smirk grew into a grin as he saw where they were going. “I think our job just got a lot easier. Nathan, Josiah, Ezra, you're with me. Buck, JD, go get Vin and be careful.”

Buck nodded, grabbing JD and quickly leaving the old structure. Carefully, they made their way across the street to the saloon. It was one of the most difficult things Buck had ever done as he waited for the others to enter the jail. He could hear Vin begging, the fear in his voice as he plead with Browner, breaking his heart. He wanted nothing more than to rush into the building and rip Rupert Browner apart for hurting the man he loved. JD's hand on his arm brought him a measure of control as he impatiently waited. He saw Chris open the door to the jail, turning back to the saloon, he led JD inside. His blood ran cold at the sight before him.

JD stared in shock at the scene they'd stepped into. With a cry of pure anger, the young agent rushed forward, knocking Browner away from Vin. As he pummeled Browner, he was vaguely aware of Buck speaking to Vin in the background. Soothing him, while freeing him from his bonds.

“JD, JD!” Buck yelled.

Buck's yell brought him back to the present. Quickly cuffing Browner's wrists behind his back, he turned to Buck. Standing up, he moved towards where his big brother sat rocking Vin, tears streaming down both their faces.

“Find me a blanket JD and get Nathan,” Buck quietly ordered. “Hurry JD,” he anxiously added. Turning his attention to Vin, Buck was barely aware of JD running from the building as he took in the condition of the young man in his arms. All he could do,as he waited, was gently rock Vin, soothing him with soft words as his tears continued to flow.

TBC

Hope y'all liked it. Please feed the muse with reviews and I'll try to update soon. I have mid-terms next week so there may be a slight delay.