When he awoke in the hard wooden chair, he had no idea where he was or how he had gotten there. All he knew was he was swooning, his head hurt, and he couldn't move.

Taking in his surroundings, he was almost bemused. A plain, dingy basement with a single bed in one corner. It almost reminded him of his own home.

He heard footsteps coming down the cellar stairs. A tall man in a three piece suit stood in front of him. He stalked like Otis did. He was clearly a predator, just as Otis was. His mind raced as he tried to figure out an escape route. The one fucking time he went out alone, as much as Cutter begged him not to go alone.

"I finally got you. Do you know how long I've been looking for you, you bastard?" He kicked the chair Otis was in. He didn't react. The man snarled back at him, frustrated. "Do you have any idea who I am?"

Otis just rolled his eyes. The man slapped him hard enough across the face for him to see stars.

"I, my dear friend, am a lawyer here. I've seen your work. Your family's work. You were just the first one to go out alone. Two of you are hard to catch at the same time. But I finally got one of you." He smirked, laughing. "I'm going to make you feel like one of your victims." Otis glared back, defiant and strong. He knew he could somehow get out of this. "I'm going to beat that fucking defiance out of you, you fucking asshole!" He slapped Otis again, who just turned back to him, smirking and eyes glowing mischievously. "What the fuck are you smiling at, you crazy fucker?! You're the one tied down!" He continued to beat Otis about the face and shoulders, unrelenting in his fury. Otis just laughed behind his gag, further infuriating the man.

Otis tried to mumble something at him, challenging him to try and break him. No one knew his past except the Fireflies. Only they knew what really got to him.

"Alright, you fucker. Let's see how you like this." Otis felt a sharp pain in his arm as the world started to go black.

When he awoke again, he was tied down to the bed he had noted before. He was face down, hands tied under the bed, and each foot tied to either bed post.

The lawyer was sitting in a chair beside him, short bullwhip in hand.

"You think its funny. What you do to women?" He tapped the edge of the whip in his hand. Before Otis could register him standing, he was bringing it down multiple times on his back. He screamed in pain, writhing, struggling against his restraints.

"Do you think it's funny now? Now that you're in their shoes?"

Scraping against the bed, Otis moved his gag out of his mouth. "Already been there, bitch. None of this is new to me."

"Hmm. Then you won't mind this, then, either." He pulled Otis's jeans down roughly pulling the fabric to his knees, slicing his underwear with a pocket knife.

Otis swallowed heavily, hoping that the man was just using fear tactics to make him more submissive.

"Come on. Where's that cockiness now?"

"Fuck you." Otis's voice shook, though he tried to hide it with aggression. He heard the man's zipper, and knew what was about to happen. It wasn't just fear tactics anymore. He wasn't playing around.

The man replaced the gag in Otis's mouth. Otis squirmed, struggling as hard as he could against the restraints. He didn't care what it took. He had vowed to himself to never let it happen to him again. It wouldn't ever happen to him again.

And all the sudden, it was happening. Otis screamed, still writhing in an attempt to flee. Rage built inside him. He had always said he would never let this happen to him again. Ever. He would never be abused like this again.

He wrenched his hands free, turning and landing a solid blow on the man's abdomen. He quickly grabbed Otis's hands, wrenching his arms until he was contorted unnaturally. He held Otis's arms at the wrists, pulling them behind his back and continuing his actions.

"Oh, come on, baby. Don't be like that. Come on. Relax for me." Otis struggled again, infuriated. "Shhh. Come on. You're not getting away, scared little rabbit." He cackled, hitting Otis indiscriminately, but fiercely. "You're not running anywhere."

Once he was finished, he covered Otis with a blanket after he had retied his wrists and stepped away quickly, knowing he would lash out.

"Get some rest. You'll need it."

Utterly infuriated, disgusted and humiliated, Otis lay face-down on the bed, fighting the memories that came rushing back to him. His father had done the same thing to him as a child, and his mother had watched, mainly participating in the physical abuse. He hated feeling helpless. Despised the aching in his chest that accompanied those memories.

Exhaustion claimed him eventually, and he slipped into sleep.