Dirt, he could smell dirt, and musky dampness, like wet cement. His eyelids fluttered as he attempted to open them. A few attempts later he finally won the battle. It was dark, save for a small lamp on an old table next to him. He was on a bed, old, with an ornate wrought iron headboard. The walls were stone of some kind, and also looked old. There was no window, so he had no idea what time it was and the floor appeared to be dirt.

Attempting to lift his arms, he was met with resistance, courtesy of the drug that Cameron had injected into him.

Unable to move yet, he used his ears to get more data about his whereabouts. But it was quiet, save for a dripping somewhere and odd shuffling noises, also outside of the room. He gazed over the walls until he found the one with the door. It was an old wooden door, very heavy, with a heavy brass lock and a small window panel with iron bars crossing it.

Attempting again to move his arms and legs, he was more successful and with some effort able to at least sit up and take in his surroundings more. The room was tiny, with barely enough room for the bed and side table. Swinging his legs over the side, he pushed himself into a standing position and made his way to the door.

He didn't expect it to be unlocked, but tried anyway.

Then peering through the tiny window, he could see other doors with similar windows. The hall was very dark, even with the ribbons of light coming from each door.

"Hello? Is anyone there?" He called out hopefully.

He didn't receive an answer, but heard some shuffling in the other rooms, and even thought he saw a shadow pass over the light in one window.

"Hello? Someone?"

"Shhh, be quiet or they will punish you."
"What? Who? Who locked me in here?"

"The collectors, just shut up or you'll get the rest of us in trouble too."

Well this was ominous. Harvey had been doing well in holding back his quelling panic at being kidnapped and now locked in some room in a basement, but he felt a quiver begin in his chest. He didn't know who had him, though he knew with certainty that Cameron was involved. He also didn't know why he was being held captive, he didn't know what they wanted, but would have been happy to pay any sum to be let go at that moment. He also had a niggling in the back of his mind that told him he had heard the name 'The Collectors' somewhere, but couldn't place it at the moment as he took in his situation.

"Why are we locked in down here? What's going on?"
A different voice from the first answered him this time and the voice was much deeper and more authoritative sounding.

"You will find out soon enough, now shut up."

This too, sounded very ominous, but in the end he decided to just be quiet like they said. He didn't want to be responsible for anyone else getting hurt.

It was then that he noticed that he was wearing different clothes. His expensive suit had been replaced with a loose pair of drawstring pajama bottoms and a light t-shirt, and nothing else. Horror spread through him at the thought that someone had stripped him naked and redressed him.

The sound of a door opening caught his attention. It seemed to be at the end of the hall and the light it let in was brief as the door was re-latched, and by the sounds of things, re-locked as well.

Heavy footsteps came down the hall towards him, and then there was a face on the other side of the bars, smirking at him.

Harvey stumbled backwards in shock at the sudden appearance and almost fell at the end of the bed.

"Good, you're finally awake, took you long enough."

Harvey just regarded him for a minute, taking in the face, trying to remember if he had seen it before but came up empty. Now might be a good time to ask questions though.

"What do you want from me? Why am I here?"

"We want you Harvey, you're special, and perfect, and need to be cultivated properly."

He had no idea what in the hell that meant, but it didn't sound good and he couldn't help the slight repulsion he felt at the expression on the other man's face.

He heard jingling and realized he was opening the door and coming in. Harvey quickly tried to measure his possibility of success against the guy in hand-to-hand combat, but realized he would definitely lose. The guy was huge, taller, burly and potentially armed. He then attempted to calculate his odds of outrunning the guy, should he make it to the door. This too, seemed unlikely, since the room was small and the guy could easily block him from getting to the door.

The man closed the door behind him, relocking it with a key on a massive key ring that appeared to be out of the 1800's. This entire setup was so bizarre, Harvey just couldn't get his head around it, and mainly couldn't figure out what they wanted.

The man turned to face him again, appearing calm and like this was entirely business as usual. He slid his jacket off and laid it over the end of the bed. Harvey just watched this performance quietly, mind working in circles.

Then the man stepped towards him, grasping his arms quickly and essentially holding him in place. He pulled Harvey up against him full length and looked down at him lustily. The puzzle pieces clicked together in Harvey's head. He remembered why he knew the name 'The Collectors'.

He had heard of them through a friend of his in the police force. Donny was investigating several murders in the area where men of fairly high standing or excellence were kidnapped and were seemingly held somewhere for several months before their bodies were found tied to trees in the woods. The police referred to them as the 'Collectors' because of their penchant for collecting impressive victims. Harvey realized that since the nickname was known amongst the other possible victims there with him, that one of the perpetrators must actually be a cop who found the title amusing and had shared it with the others. It had never been released to the media, there was no other way for it to be known. Knowing this did him little good at the moment however.

Donny had told him that the purpose of their collecting was purely sexual. The men were used essentially as sex toys for the time they were held captive until they were murdered. It seemed that the perpetrators got off on dominating men who were powerful in their regular lives. The police didn't know what led to the murders, since they didn't seem to occur in order with the disappearances. They assumed that somehow each victim must have upset or defied their captors and therefore paid the price.

Harvey's body felt cold at this revelation. He knew why he was there now, and he knew the only way he was leaving was likely dead. Money, prestige, power, connections; none of them would not get him out of this. In fact, he was completely powerless now.

The man turned Harvey and shoved him on to the bed on his back roughly before taking off his pants in one swift move. Harvey wasn't sure when he had untied the drawstring, but it didn't entirely matter at that moment.

Instinct to protect himself took over, and he quickly crawled backwards away from the other man's touch and grabbing hands. He attempted a few kicks but quickly found his legs grasped and he was yanked back down the bed before the guy was on him between his legs, holding him down with his entire body. Harvey's breath became panicky, fight or flight taking over he tried shoving and thrashing and kicking but got nowhere.

The man just let him do this for a few minutes, clearly thinking that he would get it out of his system, before restraining him entirely with an arm across his chest. The eyes that gazed down on him now looked deadly. Harvey realized he had an ultimate choice to make, either he be raped, or he would die. Suddenly Mike's face flashed in front of him, and he felt a pang in his heart. He wanted to see him again now so badly it hurt and he hated how things had last ended. He had to stay alive for Mike; maybe someday he would see him again.

He relaxed in his fighting; showing that he was relenting and the man's gaze returned to one of lust and satisfaction at winning.

"Harvey Specter never loses they say, I guess that isn't entirely true."

Harvey bit down on his cheek to fight the urge to spit in the guy's eye. He knew that would not help him at all, despite how good it would feel for the few seconds.

The guy laughed deep and throaty at him before reaching down between them to undo his own pants.

The sound of that zipper sounded far louder than it really was in Harvey's ears. He heard a bottle pop open and then without any preparation other than lube on his own cock, the other man was pushing himself inside of Harvey forcefully.

He fought the urge to squirm, knowing it would only prolong what was clearly inevitable at that point and make the pain worse. He just wanted it over as fast as possible. He also knew he wasn't going to give the bastard the satisfaction of him screaming, or making any sound at all. He had every intention of lying there like a corpse, hopefully making it a much less satisfactory experience.

As the guy thrust roughly into him, increasing in speed and strength, he had to use every reserve of control he had not to cry out in pain.

The guy leaned down and attempted to kiss him, but Harvey quickly turned his head. The guy may take his ass, but he was not taking his mouth. The last person he had kissed was Mike and he intended on it staying that way.

The other man laughed and bit his earlobe before forcibly placing his hand on Harvey's jaw and making him turn to face him. Harvey clamped his mouth shut, and glared at him hard. The guy laughed harder before slamming his cock into him fully, knocking all the air out of Harvey's chest. The guy mercifully let go of his chin but then he repeated the slamming thrust before grunting and thrusting a few more times quickly, coming inside of Harvey.

Once he was finished he smiled smugly at Harvey and rose, doing up his pants slowly on purpose before retrieving his jacket and sliding it back on as well. Held down by pain Harvey could only watch him.

The guy leaned down one more time before he left, patted Harvey's cheek and said "good boy" and then left.

Harvey lay there for a few minutes longer, waiting until the pain and burn subsided a bit before sitting up to attempt to figure out how bad it was. He didn't see blood, which was a good sign, so he found his pants and slid them back on.

Then he crawled up to the top corner of the bed and sat curled into a ball, watching the door and listening.

He felt the tears slide down his cheeks, but he didn't outright cry. He had won one battle, the guy had never kissed him.