Chapter Twenty-One: Anton

Horatio woke up, groggy and his mind scattered. He was sitting and propped up in a corner of a new room. The room had windows, a single door, and what looked like a closet. Either the room was filled with some gas or something was wrong with his eyes, the walls seemed to be rippling. Whatever it was was making him dizzy. But where was he? The unfurnished master bedroom? Maybe. It wasn't that important, the windows were covered and he was still tied. Thick coils of rope were still the only thing he wore on his body. The tape over his mouth had been removed.

Where am I? He thought, shifting his arms and trying to find a more comfortable position. Is this the same house? It kind of looks it. When did I move? I must have passed out last ni- …wait. What happened last night?

The once shooting pain in his legs was now more of a dull and constant throb. He could see that he had been bandaged up, but he couldn't remember what caused the damage in the first place. Maybe that was a good thing.

A series of footfalls came from what sounded like a stairway. There was no point in trying to escape this; he would have to wait until he was positive he would be able to stand. And things being as they are, a simple test of that seemed to be out of the realm of possibility. Since he was abducted he had only walked twice, being forced to sit for hours on end. His backside felt sore, it felt like his own pelvis had bruised him as punishment for sitting down for so long. He had been on tile in the bathroom, but even the carpet he had under him now felt like stone.

Allen Ratner shoved the bedroom door open, stepping in with a camera and a tripod in his hands. He eyed Horatio up, as if he was daring the older man to try to object. Dennis followed him in, a large and freestanding lamp in his hands. Horatio watched in silence as the blonde walked over to a wall outlet and plugged it in.

"You're on TV a lot, aren't you, Lieutenant?" Allen half-asked half-stated as he set up the camera and tripod. "So you know how to behave for the camera."

If something was wrong with his eyes, something was wrong with his ears too. Allen sounded like he was echoing, like he was underwater or something. Horatio winced and squinted as Dennis turned the head of the lamp to shine into the redhead's eyes, assaulting his senses. When he was finally able to open them fully again, Dennis had left and Allen was adjusting his camera.

"I know what you're thinking," the young man said matter-of-factly, "but they won't be able to trace this place fast enough. You'll be out of here before Miami's finest even find the video selling you."

More footsteps.

"You know what, Caine?" A voice blared from the hallway, "I hope you sell better than your stupid ring can."

Anton stumbled into the bedroom, an intoxicated grin on his face, a cigarette in his hand, and Horatio's ring on his hand. The gold of the band caught Horatio's eye, the color swarming the room and pulling the redhead's attention. Anton laughed and waved it in front of Allen's face. Horatio's eyes widened, his heart racing as he began fighting against the restraints. He winced as he felt the skin begin to rip open again under the ropes. A sharp stabbing pain ran through his legs as he impulsively tried to move towards Anton.

"Get your filthy hands off that!"

The olive skinned man threw his head back and laughed loudly, more to be obnoxious than in actual pleasure. The sound alone felt like it was enough to make Horatio start bleeding out of every orifice on his head, nothing had ever pierced him like that had. Anton flashed the ring to Horatio mockingly.

"What?" He chided, taking a drag on his cigarette, "Are you afraid that your boyfriend would prefer me?"

"Leave him out of this!"

"I'm sure he'd love me to go over to his place and show him a good time. I'm not queer, like you, but I know how to-"

"-Anton," Allen said sharply, "we have to get this video out ASAP, we'll deal with his boyfriend later."

"What's his name, Caine?"

"I'll never tell you," Horatio growled, his raw arms tugging helplessly at the binds.

"Maybe it's written inside the ring," Allen offered, "as an inscription. Like 'Kurt loves Horatio' or 'Horatio and Phil' or something."

The redhead felt his stomach knot. Was there an inscription? He wasn't sure. These past few days have been so rushed that he wasn't even sure if he got around to really examining the ring. It would be sweet if Rick did bother to have it inscribed, but… it could put his life in danger. Allen seemed smart enough to know that if they really wanted to hurt him, they would hurt Rick.

Pulling the ring off over his hard and large knuckles, Anton held it up to the light and squinted.

"'Infinity'," he read, turning it around to see if there was anything else. There wasn't. "That's gay."

Horatio felt his heart warm and melt as soon as "infinity" was read. It was supposed to immortalize that moment when they were first supposed to be engaged, when they first officially began the rest of their lives together. He could still see the adoring and slightly pleading look in his lover's eyes when he bent down on one knee. Every time Rick ever said he loved him came rushing back to Horatio.

He sighed longingly, Rick smiling lovingly at him from his memory. How do I get so lucky?

"Whatever," Anton scoffed, tossing the ring to Allen and taking another drag, "hold this. Is the camera ready?"

"Yeah," he nodded, pocketing the ring and giving the camera one final check, "Do you know what you're going to say? You know we don't get much time to do this."

"I'll do this in one take."

"Sure you will."

Anton stood in various places in the room until the man behind the camera nodded, pleased with his location. It was then that Horatio realized what was happening, it was all finally beginning to sink in. He was being sold. Some lowlife was going to buy his body, probably to destroy it. And that was only the tip of what he knew would feel like an endless iceberg. If he fell into the wrong hands, everyone he cared about could be in danger. What if they tried to hurt Rick or Kyle?

I've never been tortured before. Not like this.

"Recording," Allen announced before he hit the button that made the little red light pop on.

"I don't expect many of you to know me," the young man announced, pacing between Horatio and the camera. "But I do expect the best of you to know who my father was. In fact, most of you should have done business with him. My name is Anton, son of Clavo, Cruz."

Clavo Cruz had a son? Horatio thought, trying not to let his confusion show. He pulled his knees a little closer in to his chest, wincing as he felt something in his right shin shift slightly. It was no secret that his legs were in incredible pain, but the adrenaline racing through his veins seemed to trump all that. If only he wasn't so dizzy, he might be able to focus on the situation.

"We have managed to acquire who has been the thorn in your side for the past decade, if not more. We first posted Caine's real sexual orientation as part of an ongoing investigative project showing who the real Horatio Caine is. But it, as you know, had given us more than we could have hoped for. So we're giving you a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity."

The redhead winced as his stomach churned sharply. He almost felt his features begin to sink and his face begin to pale. Everything hurt and it felt like his head wasn't even on the same planet. He bit down on this tongue to distract himself, hoping that the frustration wouldn't become great enough for him to need to cry.

"The," he paused to think of the right word before shooting it at Horatio, "legendary, Horatio Caine is going to the highest bidder. So… if you think you can give him what he deserves better than the next guy, start placing your bets in the comment section below."

Horatio sighed, hoping that this was it and he can be dragged into the bathroom again. He needed to throw up.

"But we all wonder one thing. Look, I know that he's taken our families away from us… and we all want to return the favor." Anton knelt, his piercing black eyes glaring at the man who gunned down his father. "Who's your boyfriend you son of a bitch?"

"G-g-go to hell."

The redhead's body tensed as he felt rough and cold hands clasp the side of his face and constrict his throat. He cringed in disgust as he felt unfamiliar lips press against his own. Struggling wasn't an option with the large fingers leaving bruises on his pale neck. All he could do was sit there and pray that it would soon be over.

Anton let go after a long moment, laughing in the mind-splitting way of his. "He likes it!"

Horatio would have snapped back, but he couldn't bear the feeling of a hand on his throat. All it did was remind him of those nights when his own father choked him until everything started going black.

"What's his name, Caine?"

Horatio just shook his head helplessly, never going to tell him what he needs but still knowing better than to talk back. He was punished anyways as Anton Cruz lifted the cigarette and dug the smoldering tip into his captive's chest. Horatio winced and groaned in protest until the smoke was completely extinguished and was discarded onto the floor.

"I'm going to ask you again," Anton said coldly as he pulled out another cigarette, lighting it and taking a puff. "What's his name?"

"I'm not telling y- Aaah!"

Tears began to rush to innocent blue eyes as another cigarette was extinguished, this time on Horatio's stomach. The sharp points that ached combined with his shattered legs and the lingering nausea made even the task of sitting upright difficult. His arms began to bruise as he pulled at his restraints. Before he could even realize that he had shaken his head to the repeated request, a burn was branded onto his shoulder. Time lost its grasp on Horatio's fragile mind and soon it didn't even feel like separate moments as burns were scattered over his body. It took all his strength to keep focus on his mouth to make sure Rick's name didn't escape it.

"Tell me!"

"No!"

Horatio's pained sob turned into a scream as what he prayed would be the last of the cigarettes was put out on his crotch. Stabbing pains covered his legs as he tried to bring them up to protect himself. The last of his control slipped away with another sob, making the bile rise and burn his throat. His eyes closed; when they opened again there was a puddle of vomit on the floor and a bitter taste in his mouth. Blue eyes began to water again as the desire to be taken out of consciousness once again overcame him.

Anton's piercing laugh filled the room again, dry heaves taking control of the redhead's body. Tears fell from closed lids as a warm stream of fluid hit Horatio on the shoulder. He didn't want to look. He didn't have the strength to acknowledge what Anton was doing to him, although the stench of ammonia was distinct. Soft ginger hair turned dark as it was soaked before the stream wandered down to his chest. The moment seemed to stretch on forever before it finally ended.

"We couldn't make him talk," Anton announced, zipping up his pants, "but you might. Bidding ends this Wednesday, at 6:00 eastern standard time. I promise, he will be delivered to you alive."