Work Text:
The air in the cellar was thick, damp coming from all four corners of the room. Bodie registered the cold first, a deep , pervasive chill that seeped into the very fibres of his bones, mocking the warmth he usually carried. He was secured facing the back wall. His arms, bound at the wrists by chains secured to the metal piping that ran the length of the ceiling, they were stretched tautly above his head, that kept his feet barely on the tips of his toes. The position was excruciatingly un-natural, pulling his shoulders from their sockets, turning every major muscle group in his back into a screaming rigid knot. He was shirtless, his exposed skin a landscape of gooseflesh against the artic draft. His head was bowed. He wasn't submitting, the posture was simply the result of exhaustion and the physics of the suspension. If he strained to lift his chin, the chain cut deeper into his wrists, and the strain in his legs intensified. He focused instead on regulating his breathing, using the familiar CI5 discipline to seperate the pain into a distant thought.
A door behind him opened, the clang of the metal opening reverbarating in the empty silence. He didn't need to look up to know who had arrived, or why. The man they called Kel entered, followed by the one person whose presence hurt more than the restraints themselves. DOYLE.
Kel was not a dramatic man, his cruelty was administrative. He approached Doyle , who was flanked by four heavy guards, and spoke in an almost academic tone, the sound echoing harshly off the concrete.
"Mr Doyle, glad you could make it. I know your partner is ...... uncomfortable, but necessity dictates our methods."
Kel moved to stand just out of Bodie's line of sight, addressing Doyle while dismissing Bodie.
" your partner is immune to self-preservation, but he is entirely susceptible to the threat of disappointing you"
Doyle stood rigid, his hands clenched so tightly, his knuckles were white. His jaw was set in a straight line and his green eyes were feral, darting between the relaxed form of Kel and the broken posture of his partner. Doyle had never seen Bodie look so utterly defeated, even if he knew the surrender was purely physical. The humiliation was the point, exposed and helpless.
"This is between me and you, Kel," Doyle's voice was low, a dangerous rumble, barely masking the raw fury beneath. "Let him go. He knows nothing about the exchange".
Kel sighed, taking a step closer towards Bodie. "Perhaps . But a negotiation is not what we know Mr Doyle, it's about what we want, i want that information, no argument".
He walked slowly around Bodie, his steps measured and un-nerving to stand face to face with him, pulling Bodie in by grabbing hold of Bodie's belt and tugging. "I have all the time in the world Mr Doyle and there are many ways to make a man regret his career choices". Bodie kept his head down, refusing to give the man the satisfaction of fear. Kel unbuckled Bodie's belt pulling it free from his waist and held it aloft , hoping to grab Bodie's attention but Bodie's eyes remained fixed firmly to the floor. He doubled the thick leather in half. Bodie felt the light brush of the belt against his lower back, then there was a pause. Kel turned to look at Doyle, a slight, chilling smile on his lips. "Watch closely Mr Doyle. Every strike he takes is a measure of his loyalty to you".
The first lash cut through the cold air with a sharp, sickening thud. Bodie's body instantly arched, a lightning-fast, involuntary spasm against the vertical restraints. A strangled gasp was ripped from his lungs but he instantly crushed the scream, biting down hard on his lip.The hold on Doyle's arms was relentless but they couldn't stop the man from lashing out, one free arm landing squarely on the guards jaw. "No!" Doyle's yell breaking through but he was pulled back his eyes taking in the red welt that was now beginning to form on Bodie's back. "I swear to god Kel" .
"Empty threats are becoming a bore Mr Doyle, they only serve to delay the inevitable".
Doyle looked again at Bodie whose muscles were trembling, slick with a fine sheen of sweat despite the cold.
Bodie's head remained bowed, but he fought the darkness pressing at the edges of his vision. He needed Doyle to know. He risked a small shake of his head, willing Doyle not to give in, to hold firm, keep that information locked away. It was a tiny gesture of defiance, a silent communication only they could share, delivered through the veil of his exhaustion and pain. Kel didn't notice, focused entirely on his audience.
"The information Mr Doyle, or we see how far this parner of yours can stretch before he breaks.". He raised the belt for the second time but paused mid air. Doyle watched immobilized, the desperate guilt of his helplessness a physical , weight, crushing him from inside, knowing that the real torture was not being inflicted on Bodie's back but on himself. The belt, still raised, kel drawing out the moment of anticipation didn't strike the back again. Instead he gave a low command. "Turn him. Mr Doyle needs a better view of the consequences of his silence".
Two of the guards moved with brutal efficiency. They lowered the chain just enough for Bodie to put his full weight on his feet, causing a wave of dizziness to crash over him. One of the guards grabbed his shoulder while the other forced his torso, wrenching Bodie around the fixed chain. A deep tearing groan was forced from Bodie's throat as his already dislocated-feeling shoulders twisted violently, the metal links grinding above.
Now Bodie was facing Doyle. The light in the dismal room, previously illuminating only his back and shoulders, now harshly defined the planes of his chest, his ribs strained by the overhead pull. Doyle could see the rapid, shallow rise and fall of Bodie's breathing, the beads of sweat, tracking down his temples and the way Bodie's eyes, even though half hidden, were locked on his own. There was no accusation in them, only the desperate, unspoken plea for Doyle to hold firm, even as the pain was about to become public. The sight broke Doyle internally. It was one thing to hear the strike, another entirely to witness the raw, physical response, the way Bodie's abdominal muscles clenched in anticipation, the defiant set of his jaw despite the involuntary quiver of his lower lip. Kel returned to his spot directly infront of Bodie, casual and deliberate, the belt still trailing from his hand.
"Much better. Look at him, Doyle. Tell me it's worth you keeping your mouth shut"
Kel lifted the belt, sighting along Bodie's ribcage. "The body is weakest where it protects the vital organs. It's poetic, wouldn't you agree?".
He struck. The target was the skin stretched taut over Bodie's lower ribs. The crack was immediately followed by a guttural, choked sound that was halfway between a cough and a scream. Bodie's head snapped back against the chains, his entire frame convulsing. The new, blinding pain stole his focus and the discipline he'd naintained for hours vanished in a flash of white-hot agony. He gasped, sucking in a shuddering breath that felt like breathing shards of glass. Doyle roared, the sound animalistic and desperate, struggling with renewed violence against the guards holding his arms. His mind screamed at him to move, to fight but he was held, trapped. "Bodie look at me ! " screamed Doyle, trying to reach his partner, his voice raw with a pain that matched the man suspended before him. Bodie slowly managed to refocus, his eyes finding Doyle's through the haze of shock. He was trying to smile but it was only a grimace of absolute agony. He shook his head again, a tiny motion, urging Doyle to stand firm. Kel watched the exchange, noting the intense connection and his smile widened. He had found the perfect leverage.. " such touching loyalty" kel murmured, adjusting his stance for the next inevitable strike. "Now Mr Doyle. We can continue this demonstration all afternoon. The information if you don't mind. Your choice.". Kel didn't wait for a reply . He was past the point of rhetoric, this was now a display of power, a cold lesson on Doyle's behalf. The strike was aimed higher, carving a diagonal welt across the chest, just beneath the collarbone. The sound was a flat, heavy thwack that seemed to suck the air out of the room. Bodie's chest hitched, his body convulsing up into the chains, and this time the discipline snapped completely. A raw, wrenching cry was dragged from him, a sound ripped from the base of his throat, high-pitched and instantly muffled by his clenched jaw. The mark left instantly behind was an angry, swelling red line, slick with a momentary ooze of blood. Doyle surged against his captors, a blinding surge of protective instinct. A futile kick aimed at one of the guards before a forearm was slammed across Doyle's windpipe, crushing the air from his lungs. The first guard recovered and joined in pressing Doyle back until his shoulders hit the concrete wall with a sickening thud. Immobilized once more, Doyle could only look, panting, his vision blurring with tears of pure impotent rage..
Bodie was leaning forward, chains groaning under his weight, his head hanging low again. He was fighting to breathe, the shock of the last two blows settling deep into his chest cavity. When he finally managed to look up, his eyes were duller, the light dimming "Doyle....," .The word was a wet rasping sound, barely audible filled with an exhaustion that scared Doyle, more than any cry of pain. It was a plea to Doyle that only Doyle would understand.. kel stepped closer, his face inches from Bodie's ear "your loyalty is invaluable Bodie". He patted Bodie's cheek patronizingly, then looked back at Doyle. The belt now resting against Bodie's throat, only for Kel to adjust his grip and shift his weight. He was aiming for maximum debilitating impact, aiming low to compromise Bodie's core stability.
"Lets try a more central location, shall we?" turning his attention back onto Doyle, his eyes gleaming with clinical interest. "Where the nerves are thickest".
He struck hard and low. The blow landed with savage precision, a crack across the exposed skin of Bodie's stomach, just below the navel, where the muscles were tight and vulnerable from the upward pull of the chains. This time , there was no sound. The force of the strike drove the air instantly from Bodie's diaphragm. His body executed a violent, desperate crunch, pulling his lower half up in a reflexive attempt to protect the impacted area. The chains screamed in protest against the sudden, massive strain. Bodie's face went ghastly white, his eyes flying wide and rolling back momentarily, and his entire body went rigid in a silent, suffocating shock. He hung there, suspended and still. Doyle watched the silent agony, the lack of sound more terrifying than the previous cries. He could see Bodie gasping for air that wouldn't come. "Breathe you bastard, just breathe!" . Doyle screamed, his voice breaking on the last word. Bodie finally managed to raise his head slightly, his eyes searching for his partner , hoping for Doyle to understand,. His body was at breaking point, he looked into those green eyes and pleaded for Doyle to end it.
(I will leave it up to the reader to decide the outcome.)
"