A/N: I feel loved, you people still read my story, you even review for me! As a reward of your faithfulness and my need to whump something...here is the next chapter...enjoy!

Charlie woke from his drug induced slumber slowly. The room was again spinning but at least this time he didn't have the splitting headache from before. He found that he had been brought to a different room. The room was just as empty and boring as before, except that this time there was enough light to see his surroundings, and there was a popcorn ceiling. He lay there until his senses returned to him completely. As he sat up Charlie immediately noticed the metal collar around his neck, attached to a chain staked into the ground. The chain was just long enough for him to rest on his knees. There were wrist shackles to match. He felt tired, too tired to restart his rebellion, so he simply lie there, making shapes out of the popcorn ceiling. Eventually he drifted into a restless slumber. He wasn't sure how much longer he could go without food; the pains were so intense he was sure his stomach was eating him alive. He didn't even bother trying to keep track of time, the only light that filtered into his room was clearly a form of lamp light and held strong unendingly. He drifted in and out of sleep not really thinking about anything, just hoping that any minute Don would burst through the door with the key to his collar and shackles and he could go home.

Some time later Charlie got sick of just laying there like a slug. He had to do something. He rocked up onto his knees, looked at the hand shackles about his wrists, and pulled back, making his hand as small as possible. He yanked, pulled, and jerked at the restraints desperate to be free of them. His wrists rapidly went raw, practically glowing red. Grunting from the exertion he paused, catching his breath, waiting for the pain to ebb a little before throwing himself back into the struggle whole heartedly. He cried out when the shackles pierced his skin, blood dripping down his hands. Oh good, a lubricant! He thought dejectedly. Gulping down the fresh waves of pain he continued to struggle against the restraints. Exhaust he soon gave up a sob of frustration escaping him before he could hold it in. He sank as low as he could go on his knees and dispassionately watched his blood flow down his hands.

Eventually Escort returned and stood before him. He didn't ask if I would cooperate, he didn't ask if there was anything they could do to make him cooperate. He didn't say anything. He simply examined Charlie. He nonchalantly pulled out a small key and removed the collar from Charlie's next, followed by the shackles. Sneering at the blood on his hand from the shackles he wiped his hands clean on Charlie's shirt. He dragged Charlie to his feet leading him away, holding onto his upper arm. He was lead to yet another room. Before he was brought inside Escort told him one thing.

"If you so much as make a sound, we'll kill him on the spot." Charlie was staring at his shoes and only registered the comment at the last minute when they took him inside. They cuffed him to a chair to the point where he couldn't move anything. Across the room sat Don. His heart skipped a beat seeing his brother. He wasn't sure whether to be joyful or crushed to see his brother here. His brother was tied to a chair, blindfolded, and unconscious, sagging heavily against his restraints. Charlie watched his brother began to wake.

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Don came around slowly. His mind felt in a muddle, conscious thoughts drifting around but not quiet able to grasp them. His entire body felt numb. Why is everything numb? Do I even have arms and legs anymore? Soon he was able to orient himself a little and opened his eyes. Blast! Blindfolded, this complicates things. He wasn't sure but he didn't think he was alone. He could hear someone breathing. He tested his restraints, wincing as they broke the skin. Great, I'm bleeding already and I'm only just waking up! A wave of nausea floated over him but he was able to hold back the bile. So I guess I've been drugged. Why would someone drug me? For that matter when was I even captured using said drug? He sat there waiting for something to happen. He could hear someone breathing again. "Charlie, is that you?" no answer. "Are you there Buddy?" still no answer. "Guess not, I'm just hear by myself hearing things thinking it's my little brother whom I've been looking for, for three days." That was when Don heard the footsteps. Guess whomever it was he had heard was done waiting. Waiting for what? "Who's there?" no answer. This was getting irritating. Suddenly he felt two small pokes on his chest, huh, no shirt, wonder where that went? Followed by blinding hot pain throughout his body, he couldn't think, all he knew was pain, hearing himself scream.

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Charlie watched his brother wake. He smiled slightly seeing his brother act like the agent he was even in the predicament he was in. His heart broke when his brother called for him. He almost answered, but Escort's words echoed loud and clear in his mind so he bit his tongue and held silent. He winced with Don when the cuffs pierced his skin. Panic arose when he saw Escort step forward with was looked like a battery with two wires connected to it, and pressed the live wires to his brother's bare chest. His brother's screams burned through his brain. It took his every cell of strength not to scream at them to leave him alone. This is better than him being dead, isn't it? Escort removed the wires. His brother coughed and gasped for breath, leaning against his restraints completely, and slightly wavering side to side. Charlie felt the tears in the corners of his eyes, but he wouldn't let them fall.

Escort looked back at Charlie, smiling a wicked grin, silently challenging him to make a sound. Charlie glared back, wishing looks could kill, but remained silent. Escort shrugged and replaced the wires, gleefully listening to Don scream. Charlie was sure that he did this forever. Don's screams quickly weakened, became faint, and by the end, when Escort finally removed the wires and did not replace them, he didn't scream at all, he didn't move, he simply sagged against the cuffs, unable to hold himself up, and unconscious. Escort led a silent, traumatized Charlie back to his room, without a word.

A/N: Cruel laughter! Aren't I mean? Well I hope you enjoyed, there will be more whumping therapy ahead. This is really making me feel better, but reviews will do the job better…I hope you enjoyed.