Mac spent the next few days happy, he was treated well, there were no punishments, he had his sessions with the tapes, but he knew he needed them. The last two nights he had slept with no added restraints and no drugs. He had cooked by himself the night before and hadn't burnt anything, all in all things were looking up. He knew that it wouldn't last, that his father didn't want him getting complacent, but he was hopeful.
He was visited by his father the next morning and was told to have a shower, and he was being allowed to go from the basement to the wet room by himself. It was first time that it had happened. James told him that he wanted another exam before breakfast so all he had to do was wait once he'd dried off.
Mac was waiting patiently when his father walked in.
"Just stand nice and still Angus, this shouldn't take too long."
James began his exam, feeling Mac's ribs and the bruising he'd been worried about, Mac only winced a little, the pain was so much better. He knew that his ribs were still broken but they seemed to be healing well.
"I'm pleased Angus, the bruise I was concerned about has already faded, I'm wondering whether I was wrong about your ribs being broken, maybe there was just a few cracks. Get dressed and join me in the kitchen."
Mac did just that, hoping his father was right about the ribs, they did feel a lot better. He entered the kitchen to find his father at the table, so he immediately went to fix him some breakfast. They'd gotten into a routine, his father eating and then Mac, being allowed more food as the days went on. James would leave a note on the fridge with his preferences and Mac would make the breakfast and then add anything to the grocery list afterwards. Today his father wanted a cooked breakfast, with orange juice and a coffee, he must have a busy day.
Mac got the food started and took his father's orange juice over, turning and putting the coffee machine on. He went back to the food, turning the bacon and sausages. He got out the plates, took over condiments and then the coffee machine beeped. Just as he was carrying the mug over the smoke alarm went off startling Mac, he dropped the mug and it smashed on the floor. He froze, knowing the smoke was more important he left the mug and grabbed the food off the hob, managing to silence the alarm.
He turned around and his father was opening windows, letting the smoke out, he stood there waiting for instructions, the food was ruined.
James came over and slapped Mac hard across the face. "Clean this mess up!"
Mac did as he was told, mopping up the coffee and the mug, throwing the food and washing up the dishes. Meanwhile his father had helped himself to some cereal. Once Mac was through he stood off to the side.
James ignored him while he finished his breakfast and then signalled that Mac should clean it up. He did, washing the bowl, spoon and mug. He stood to the side once again.
"Sit down," James said, getting up.
Mac sat in his seat and watched as his father came towards him, he reached down and pulled Mac's wrists, securing them, he did the same to his ankles.
"I want you to sit here in silence and think about what just happened. I'll be back later."
James walked off and Mac cried, he couldn't believe just that morning he was happy. Why did he have to ruin everything?
His father walked back in and sat opposite him. "What do you have to say Angus?"
"I'm sorry sir," Mac said, looking up.
"Is that all you have to say?"
"I'm clumsy and stupid, I should have been more careful," Mac would literally say anything to get the look off James's face.
"Damn right you should have been. What did I want for breakfast this morning?
"A cooked breakfast, with orange juice and coffee."
"And what did I get?"
"Orange juice and cereal."
"That's not acceptable, do you understand?"
"Yes sir."
"And how did you react when I told you to think about your actions?"
Mac looked at his father not sure what he meant.
"You started crying. How pathetic. I need to toughen you up a little." James moved around to release Mac, pulling him from his seat. "I think it's time for our first 'secure room' session, go."
Mac walked reluctantly to the room, walking inside, he hadn't been in there for four days.
James followed him in and told him to remove all his clothes, again he did so reluctantly, scared what was going to happen. His father approached him and pulled his arms up, attaching him to rings on the ceiling, this wasn't the first time this had happened.
Mac flashed back to that day, he was already black and blue and his father had dragged him from his corner, pulled off his boxers and hung him from the ceiling, he then poured cold water over him, hitting him until he passed out. When he had come to he was still hanging, his father hadn't taken him down until hours later.
Mac came back to the present to find he'd already been blindfolded, his father then moved away. After that he was left alone, he heard his father leave and he wondered if this was going to be it, unlikely, unless James was leaving him to keep him on edge.
The answer came a minute later when the first punch came, then the second, Mac lost count after a while. He started crying again, he couldn't help it, it just made his father angrier. Soon he was drifting, the pain was intense, and his mind went someone else. This was what he had done a few times in those days of hell. He thought of Jack and the team, of happier times, and it helped. Unfortunately he had said Jack's name a couple of times which had enraged his father, that day he didn't wake up for hours after, that day he had got a concussion and his ribs had broken and that day he promised never to speak Jack's name again.
Mac gasped when he was covered in cold water, shivering immediately, it felt like the room was ten times colder. He hung from the ceiling, wet and in pain once again, struggling to keep his feet under him. He wasn't sure how long it was until his father came back but he was so grateful when he released his hands, even though he dropped to the floor, the pain almost sending him unconscious again. He was pulled over to his corner, where he had spent most of his time in this room and his hands were secured above him once more, at least he could lean against the wall.
"You will stay here until this evening; I will let you out to cook for me and you better not mess it up again. If you do there will be more punishment, if you don't you will be allowed to eat and then sleep."
Mac didn't reply, not knowing what to say and his father didn't say anything else, he felt material brush his face and knew his father was gagging him, afterwards he left the room, slamming the door shut.
Mac took some deep breaths, finding it difficult, if his ribs weren't broken they certainly were now. He was still cold, and he was worried he was going to get pneumonia, although the room did seem to be warming up.
Hours later Mac was released and told to dress, he wasn't sure how he made it to the kitchen, but he did, hoping his father didn't want him to cook something complicated. The note on the fridge said chicken salad, thank god. The chicken went in the oven and Mac set a timer, he then made the salad, adding the dressing he knew his father liked. He leaned on the counter while he was waiting, either his father didn't notice, or he didn't care.
Soon the chicken was ready, and Mac served his father, getting him a beer when he asked for one. He leaned against the wall while James ate, he hadn't been told he could sit down, and he wouldn't without permission. His stomach protested as he watched his father eat, Mac hadn't had anything all day, not even a drink of water.
James indicated that Mac should clean up then sit down. Mac slowly complied; his whole body was on fire. Sitting was great, even more so when his father didn't restrain him.
"You made that well, no more punishment. I may have gone a little overboard today son and I'm sorry," James said, his hands clasped under his chin. "I had decided last night that if you were healed enough that we needed to have a session, it's been four days and you know what I said about getting complacent. When you destroyed my breakfast this morning it made me even more determined to do it. Then you cried, only weak men cry son and it angered me, you crying again while you were receiving your punishment made it worse. You should take a beating like a man, not cry and whine and complain. Something came over me and I beat you more than I should of. I'll make sure I haven't done too much damage before you sleep, first you can eat something."
Mac listened to his father's words, knowing that he was to blame for the pain he was in, if he hadn't been so clumsy or weak then his father would have only hurt him a little.
"I'll get your food son, you stay there."
"No sir, I don't deserve your help, I should get it myself." Mac cringed realising he'd spoken without permission.
James stood for a minute then sat back down. "I'm glad you feel that way Angus, that's what a man would say. Make yourself some toast and get some orange juice, you can bring over a bottle of water too, I don't want you dehydrated."
Mac forced himself to get up, not sure that he could eat the toast, he was feeling nauseas, but he would try, or his father might not let him have anything else. An hour later and they were back in the room he'd been beaten in, James checking his injuries. Mac tried so hard not to cry out, he was a man he could take the pain, but he blacked out when his father pressed on a particular spot.
Mac opened his eyes, at least he thought he did, he realised after a few seconds that he was wearing the blindfold again and he was secured in his corner. He guessed his father was disgusted with him, he should be, he passed out, how weak was that.
"Are you awake Angus?" James asked.
"Yes sir, I'm sorry sir."
"It's fine son, it was the body's natural reaction to the pain. I've wrapped your ribs and put some ice on that bad bruise, I have some painkillers here."
Mac felt tablets be pushed into his mouth and then a bottle of water, he swallowed them and then drank as much he was allowed. He then let his father help him empty his bladder. That done he felt James step back.
"I'm going to let you sleep here tonight, it'll be more comfortable than the basement floor, I'll keep the blindfold on but leave the gag out, I hope I can trust you."
Mac sighed, his father thought he couldn't trust him again, as much as he hated it in his mouth he wanted to please his father. "Put it in, I should wear it."
"Good boy Angus, I was hoping that's what you'd say," James said, fixing the material in place. "Goodnight."
Mac didn't deserve his father taking care of him, he should just learn to behave, he made a promise to himself that he would do all he could to be better and if he acted like he had today, then he would expect a punishment exactly like the one he'd received. His father knew best, whatever punishment he decided Mac would take and he would thank his father for giving it to him.
Mac hoped that his father was pleased with him, it had been over a week since he'd awoken the day after his beating to tell James thank you, that he deserved to be punished and that he was sorry he made his father have to hurt him.
Since then they'd settled into a routine. One that Mac was determined to keep, he was the best he could be and didn't complain when his father punished him, he apologised instead.
There had been moments when he'd faltered badly, disagreeing with James, breaking more china and causing a fire in his father's workshop. He was still hurting from that; his father had punished him severely. Mac was getting better at not crying, his father slapped him hard each time he did, which helped him to stop.
There had been a new tape made for Mac to listen to and he had been eager to know what was on it, if his father had wanted him to learn new sayings then he needed to hear them. It talked about deserving punishment, that crying was weak, he caused the pain he was in, and one he wasn't expecting, Jack didn't want him anymore. Mac realised after he listened to that tape the first time that he must have said Jack's name again when he was trying to get away from the pain. His father must have heard him.
"I'm sorry," Mac said, before his father could ask his usual questions after the tape had finished. "I didn't mean to say Jack's name, I was in pain and it slipped out."
"Quiet," James said, his voice harsh. He asked his questions and then they walked from the room. As they entered the kitchen James slapped Mac, like he did when he cried. Mac hadn't cried had he?
"I'm sorry sir, I'm sorry," Mac stuttered. James slapped him again, this time harder.
"You will only speak when spoken to."
Mac had lowered his head, realising his mistake, his father was right to hit him.
Mac remembered that day like it was yesterday, he had been punished that night and he hadn't spoken about Jack again, except when his father asked him if 'Jack wanted him anymore' in his usual question time and Mac had to answer 'no' and why would he. Mac was weak and pathetic; he was surprised his father wanted him around.
James had been letting Mac do more around the house, cleaning, fixing things, he'd even let him go outside for the first time. It had been late evening, his father had said that there would be no one around, but he thought it best not to go out during the day. James had refused to let him wear shoes and it was warm, so he didn't need a coat. Mac couldn't remember the last time he'd worn anything on his feet, so he didn't mind.
"I trust you Angus, but I have to be cautious, so I'm going to secure your wrists and ankles with a short chain."
Mac nodded, whatever his father thought best. That done they went outside, Mac found it a little difficult to walk so he shuffled out the door, feeling the fresh air on his face for the first time in forever. Except from to and from houses Mac couldn't remember the last time he'd been outside, it must have been the day before his father had kidnapped him, he'd been out running. Mac shook his head, he shouldn't be thinking about that, his father had rescued him, and he shouldn't think about the past, only the future.
"What are you thinking about son?"
"How good the air feels."
"I'm sorry you haven't been outside in a while, it's not safe."
"Why?" Mac asked, wincing when his father slapped him.
"Let's go over to the garage, there are somethings I want to take in the house."
Mac followed as best he could, looking around him, they were in the middle of nowhere, he couldn't imagine anyone even knew this place existed. When they reached the garage, Mac spoke without thinking again. "Does it take long to get into town? I imagine there's nowhere for miles."
James grabbed his t-shirt and pushed him against the wall punching him in the stomach. "I think you need another lesson in only speaking when spoken to."
They'd gone in soon after that and Mac had been made to wear a gag for the rest of the night and the following day, it only being removed so he could eat. He didn't know why he found it so difficult to keep his mouth shut, it wasn't too much to ask. He hadn't been outside again.
Mac had also been allowed into the living room and could sit like a normal person while they watched films and documentaries. Die Hard had come on the last time they were there and all he could think of the whole way through was that Jack should have been there watching it with him. His father didn't utter a word the whole movie and Mac drew blood biting his lip because he was afraid he would speak up. When his father asked if he wanted to watch Die Hard 2 he had declined, volunteering to have a session with the tapes instead. He needed to hear the one about Jack not wanting him.
His father seemed to think that was a great idea and told Mac the film was two hours long, so it was perfect. Mac felt better when the drugs started taking effect and he listened to the words, he concentrated hard on the last sentence, needing it to stay in his memory.
He looked up from where he was cleaning the wet room as his father walked in, Mac wasn't sure as he never really looked at a clock, but he thought it was over a month since he'd been gone. If Jack hadn't come by now he never was, and James was probably right, he'd been left behind and forgotten about. His whole team probably breathed a sigh of relief when he went missing, he was sure they'd attempted to find him, or maybe looked like they were, but after a week or two they'd all just gotten on with their lives.
"I need you to stop what you're doing Angus?" James asked. "I need to go out."
Mac knew what that meant, it didn't happen very often but when James had to go out he had to make sure Mac was secure and safe before he went. And he didn't mean just putting him where he usually went.
"Yes sir."
"Ok, use the bathroom and have some water and then go wait for me," James said, walking out the door.
Mac put the mop down and did as his father asked, meeting him in the living room. James came over and started prepping the area Mac was going, there was a hidden compartment in the floor underneath the rug.
"Lay down on your side," James said. Mac did as he was told, lying beside the hole, his wrist and ankle cuffs were secured together, he was then blindfolded and gagged, and James pushed him gently into the compartment.
Mac gasped when his side lit on fire, he had been pushed onto his bruised ribs.
Before he spoke James pushed a needle into his son's neck, dispensing the shot of sedatives that helped to keep him calm while he was gone. "Sorry Angus, no time to change positions, I need to go, I shouldn't be gone longer than six hours, I'll let you out as soon as I get home and we'll have a late dinner, I'm afraid you'll have to miss lunch."
With that the compartment was closed, the rug pulled back over it and James locked up and left the house. His father had said he didn't like leaving him in the small space for so long, but there was no other way, if for some reason someone came to the house he was well hidden and there was no way that he could try and leave, his father didn't trust him completely. The shot of sedatives helped, his head was fuzzy enough that he didn't freak out, the two times before he'd had to go in there he'd managed to fall asleep, maybe he would this time too.
Mac was starting to worry that his father wasn't coming back, he was sure six hours had gone by, he'd managed to fall asleep, waking with a start when he realised where he was. More than an hour ago he'd started needing the toilet, but he was sure he could hold it until his father returned. It was now at least two hours later, if he were keeping check of time correctly and he was ready to burst, he knew James would be angry if he made a mess though, so he tried desperately to hold it.
Soon though he felt a hot wet feeling go down his leg and he knew that he'd wet himself. He bit his lip, he wouldn't cry. He wondered if he could lift the lid off the compartment and get out, but if his father were just running a bit late he would be punished for sure. Mac lay there for a bit longer, feeling a little nauseous of the smell. He felt water on his face and realised he was crying; he knew it was weak, but he didn't want to be stuck here for much longer.
A few minutes later Mac heard what he thought was the front door and he breathed a sigh of relief, bracing himself for his father's reaction to him wetting himself. The lid was lifted off the compartment and he heard his father speak.
"Did you wet yourself?"
The gag was pulled down so he could answer. "I'm sorry sir."
"You're disgusting, you couldn't be a man and hold it and what's that on your face, were you crying!"
"I'm sorry sir, you were gone longer than you said." Mac shouldn't have said those last words, he felt himself dragged out of the hole, his bruised side hitting the floorboards.
"What did you say?" James cried, punching Mac in his stomach and then slapping him hard in the face. "I've got a good mind to shove you back and let you spend the night in there. Would you like that?"
Mac was shaking, his side was on fire again and his stomach and face hurt, the cuffs were digging into his wrists, James was pushing him to the floor and his arms were behind him. Please don't put me back in there, Mac prayed. He couldn't be obedient right now, his father had come back late, that wasn't Mac's fault.
James let go of him and started pulling off his restraints, pulling him up and dragging him into the wet room.
"Clean yourself up and then you can cook me some dinner. Don't expect to get any yourself."
James slammed the door shut and Mac got out of his sticky clothes, gasping when he moved his ribs, he turned on the shower as hot as he could take it stepping under the spray. He had to be quick or his father might come and drag him out. He dressed in the clothes that he'd put on the table earlier after doing the laundry. He picked up the soiled ones, taking them and putting them straight in the washer, he didn't want the smell to linger.
Mac entered the kitchen in silence, his head down, James was waiting for him, a bucket and sponge was handed to him.
"Go and clean up the mess you made and open some windows, once you're done put the lid back on the compartment and pull over the rug."
Mac nodded, taking the items from his father. Bending down was painful but he did it, hoping that he'd cleaned everything to his father's approval. When Mac returned to the kitchen James was cooking, dammit he was supposed to do that. He put away the cleaning supplies and rushed over, his father would be mad that he had to cook after all.
"I'm sorry I wasn't quick enough, I'll take over, you wanted me to cook," Mac had a habit of rambling when he was nervous. He obviously would never learn.
"Do I need to gag you again!" James exclaimed, pushing Mac away from the counter.
"No sir, I'm sorry."
"Sit."
Mac did as he was told, his hands in his lap, eyes down.
Not long after food was put in front of him and his father sat down.
"Eat."
"No, you said I wasn't getting any," Mac replied, pushing the plate away.
James sighed and got up, he put his hand on Mac's shoulder and pulled him away from the table, backhanding him across the face. He then grabbed his wrists and put his hands on the table, pushing the plate towards him again. "Eat, now."
Mac was so confused but he did as he was told, his father not saying another word to him, Mac just sat there while James cleaned up the kitchen and then was shocked when his father told him to go to bed and that he'd see him in the morning.
The next morning began differently, Mac was released from his restraints and then told to come for breakfast, when he walked into the kitchen the food was already on the table.
"Eat," James said, motioning for the cereal.
Mac did as he was told, wincing when the spoon hit his split lip, courtesy of his father's backhand the night before.
"We need to talk Angus," James said, once they'd both finished eating. "First I need to give you an apology, then we need to discuss your behaviour last night."
Mac gulped, he knew that was coming, he'd spoken too much last night, he had a sore face to prove it.
"I don't know how it happened Angus, but I was gone for nine hours yesterday, far too long and I apologise for my behaviour regarding you wetting yourself. I might have done the same thing."
Mac was grateful that his father apologised, surely it was only right for him to say sorry if he did something wrong when Mac had to do it all the time.
"The rest of your behaviour was disrespectful, and you will need to be punished for it. Blaming me for being late was hurtful and you shouldn't have done it, and once again you cried because you're weak."
His father was right as usual.
"You spoke out of turn at least five times last night and disobeyed me twice. That behaviour is unacceptable, and you should know better."
Mac nodded, he didn't think he'd spoken that many times, but if his father said he did it must be right, he needed to be punished.
"There will be no beating, I can't risk hurting your ribs anymore, you're lucky you're still hurt from the last time."
Mac breathed a sigh of relief, his father was so kind, he deserved a beating for the way he'd acted.
James got up and opened the pantry door. "You will have more than one session in here, the words are obviously not staying in your head long enough, get yourself ready."
Mac agreed with his father, he didn't understand why those words didn't stay in his head longer, he needed more sessions, the longer the better. Mac got ready and soon the drugs were flowing through his system and the words were filling his head.
Mac wasn't sure how many times his father played the tapes, definitely more than usual, as he had felt the needle go in his neck again, more sedatives hitting his system. When the headphones were removed Mac was floating, he let his head fall to his chest, and it stayed there until his father returned. His father started speaking but Mac was too dazed to listen, he felt a slap to his face but that didn't do anything, it wasn't until water was thrown on him that everything cleared up. The questions started, and he was made to repeat things over and over, his throat was becoming so dry. Finally, his father let him leave, but he pushed him towards the 'secure room,' he guessed there was more punishment to come.
Once he was in the room he was secured in his corner, hands once again over his head, James helped him drink a bottle of water. "You will stay in here until I decide the punishment is over," his father said, fixing material back into Mac's mouth. There was a pause and then his father pulled his boxers down, helping him empty his bladder. Mac leaned his head against the wall trying to get comfortable and was shocked when his received a couple of blows to the face and uninjured side. His breathing quickened wondering if there would be anymore, his father had said he wouldn't beat him, but he never said there would be no pain. He relaxed thinking it was over, bad idea, he received another two consecutive blows to his already injured side and his head was slammed into the wall hard enough that he saw stars through his blindfold. He sagged against the restraints, his head falling forward.
"You were too comfortable Angus, it's not punishment if you're comfortable"
With those last words James walked out the door turning the lock, leaving Mac in a world of pain, it wasn't as bad as his last punishment, but it was enough. The side that was already damaged was on fire, Mac was sure that he'd felt his ribs crack. He managed to remain conscious and because of that he heard some strange noises coming from outside the door. Maybe his father was coming back for some reason. There was shouting and banging, and he heard his father's voice. "You can't have him." Someone responded to that, the voice familiar. A minute later and the door crashed open and Mac wasn't ashamed to admit he whimpered, trying to curl up as tight as he could away from the intruder.
"Oh my god Mac, what has that bastard done to you!"
He knew that voice didn't he, it was Jack, but that was impossible, Jack didn't want him anymore.