AN: You are so LOVELY, people. Thank you so much for all of your kind reviews and for putting me on lists and all. And for reading Checkmate.

Disclaimer: See chapter 1, plus, title of this chapter is taken from Rihanna's Man Down. No profit is being made.

Warnings: NOT FLUFF.

I have been asked not to put warnings up anymore, cause they are considered spoilers. I don't feel too good about this, so let me know what you think. Now, if there is a possibility you could be triggered by anything that could happen, don't read, or send me a PM and I tell you whether to read it or not. To all my sick puppies, read on.

Chapter Nine: What started out as a simple altercation…

They left Jim alone for two days. Mrs York came in three times a day, supplying him with actual food. On the second day, Jim was able to walk again. Not properly, it was more staggering, but it was nevertheless a display that he was getting better and that they had not broken him. His first way led him of course to the mirror. Jesus, brutal. If Sebastian could see him like that, he would go out and make some people regret their involvement. Like, seriously. In moments like these, Jim was more than happy that Sebastian was on his side. Bless Sebastian. A delicious man. Tall, blonde hair, blue eyes. The hands of a piano man. And so ready to do anything for Jim. Jim was actually looking forward to be back with Sebastian. But first things first. What was going to happen now? Jim knew they wouldn't try beating him to a pulp again, at least not with their fists. What was next? Bats, whips… Boring. Serious mutilation? Not so boring. Yet, this was the government. There was only so much they could do to him. He was pretty sure the broken finger was already borderline illegal. But then again, he was special. And they knew it. They knew he would never mention anything that went on in here, so what did they have to lose? Nothing. However, if they didn't get information on his Key Code, they had a lot to lose. Or so they thought. Jim paced through the cell as well as he could. So, what else could they do? What was the next step? If this was Sebastian, he would start pulling out toenails first. Simple, but very efficient. Oh, it was a pleasure watching Sebastian work. He was perfection, whistling Twisted Nerve and extracting one nail after the other. But that sounded way too middle ages for the government. He sighed. He had no idea. That was new to him. And it pissed him off.

The door opened. Jim grinned, "Mrs York. How very nice to see you again. What have you got for me this time?"

She smiled her cold smile, "Chili con carne."

"Delicious. Oh, and I even get a spoon. Are you spoiling me because I've been such a good criminal lately, or is that your special treat for me?"

"Shut your trap or I'll give it to you rectally." She put the tray down and left without another word.

Jim only shrugged and sat down. He took a spoonful of the Chili and tasted it. It was really delicious. Only when he had swallowed it, he noticed that they hadn't been too careful with the chili part. It was really spicy. He looked around; no water bottle. No bread either. He had to smile; oh, that was good. He shoved the plate away, trying to catch his breath again. He had calmed down a bit when Matthew entered with a bat in his hand.

Jim raised his head, "Oh please. Are we going down that route? I have to eat this or you beat me up?"

"Exactly. And believe me, I'm not afraid of shattering bones with this baby here. Your choice. Well, not exactly. You will eat this. It's rather your choice whether or not you will eat it with all of your body intact."

"Oh please. You should know by now that violence doesn't get you anywhere with me. So please, save yourself the trouble and just leave, and tell Mycroft I'd love to share dinner with him." Matthew seemed to think about it. Then he left. Only to come back with the rest of the gang about five minutes later. "Ah, here we are again. Matthew, dear, even if you bring your pals along, you can't make me eat that." Nobody answered him; they only walked towards him. Jim noticed to late what they were up to; he had expected they would pull him up so that Matthew and his bat had free access to his more delicate areas. Like kidneys, for instance. He hadn't expected them to pin him to the floor, each of them grabbing one of his extremities.

Matthew, with the plate in his hand, sat down on his stomach. "You're right. Violence might not get us anywhere…. So far. But even you are limited, Moriarty. Joel, sit down on his arm, I need you to carry the plate." Joel did as he was asked, sending pain through Jim's arm. He moaned. Matthew shifted his weight a bit. "I will pinch your nose. You will have to open your mouth eventually. And then I will pour this delicious Chili inside you, and you will eat it all. How does that sound?" Jim decided it was better not to answer, but kept his mouth closed. Matthew looked up to Harry who was sitting on Jim's other arm. "I need you to put your hand over his mouth immediately when I take the spoon out. Can't have him spit this shit in my face."

Harry grinned, "Speaking of spit…"

Matthew grinned back. "Your idea. You go first." Harry didn't need to be asked twice, but spat right into the chili, took the plate from Matthew's hand, and gave it to Christian, who spat in it too. Everybody took a good spit before the plate came back to Matthew. "I'll talk to the boss to give you guys a raise." More spit, then Matthew stirred the chili and handed the plate back to Joel. "Bon appetite, sir." He swayed a spoon full of chilli over Jim's mouth while pinching his nose at the same time, "Open up wide."

Jim fought. He struggled hard. But with his nose pinched, four extremely heavy guys sitting on his arms and legs, and Matthew on his stomach, applying pressure to his ribs, it was an unfair fight Jim was more than likely to lose, especially with the fact that he was running out of breath. But God, he didn't want to eat that. Chili con escupitajo. No, I can't. This is too disgusting. I can't do it… I can't breathe. Please, body, fight your instincts, let me pass out, I can't do this… But when his lungs felt close to exploding, he couldn't anymore and had to open his mouth. He breathed in a few times, and Matthew let him, before putting the spoon into his mouth. "Now, Harry." Harry put his paw over Jim's mouth. Jim struggled again, but at some point he just had to swallow. He had to cough, but Matthew showed no mercy and fed him the second spoon, then the third. The spicy food started to burn his mouth, his throat, his oesophagus… Tears were stinging in his eyes from the pain, sweat was pouring down his body, but Matthew just continued. It was unbearable, and Jim knew pretty well that even when he decided to give them information now, they wouldn't stop. This was pure display of power, not an interrogation. He could see it in Matthew's eyes.

When the plate was empty, Matthew finally stopped, "Well, that was delicious, don't you think? Oh, I see you don't have any water…." He leaned forward, putting pressure on Jim's ribcage. "Don't you dare puking it out. I'll swear I will feed that to you, too, you understand?" Jim nodded only, his throat aching too much to talk. Matthew grinned, "Good boy." He patted his cheek. "You know what would help against this burning inside you? Protein. Now, I don't have milk here, but I know something that's just as good." He ran his finger over Jim's cheek. "You're actually quite a pretty face. Even with those bruises. What do you say, how about a bit of nice, tasty juice?" He saw Jim's reaction and laughed. "As if I would want you to vomit. Come on guys, let's leave." He got up, motioning his friends to do the same.

They left Jim in his corner, coughing and curling up, waiting for the pain to fade. Oh, they were good. Such an efficient plan. This was actually more painful than anything he had gone through before. His insides were burning and he would have given the world for some water now. As he lay there, shivering, he noticed something else. The room, which up until now, had always been rather cold, was now starting to heat up. Normally he would have welcomed it, but right now, he would have preferred the cool concrete. He moved his hand and opened his shirt. It was already damp with sweat. His pants followed. It was not much relief, though. He was frying from inside as well as outside now, and soon he was covered in sweat all over his body. Oh god, and how it hurt. He was sure he wouldn't be able to swallow anything real even in weeks from now. It was brutal. His eyes were tearing from the pain, even his nose was running. He knew it wouldn't be for long, they couldn't risk him dying from dehydration. But whoever was watching him through the mirror would see how he would gulp down the water being offered, and they would know that they had won that round. And Jim hated to lose. Then he remembered the spitting part. That had been the most degrading moment in his life. He hated being spit on. Always had. Now, when that first guy had spat at him, during the waterboarding session, it had been okay, because he had been able to spit it right back. He had not been forced to swallow it down. But now he had. And oh, he hated it. He had never felt more humiliated in his life, and he had suffered a lot at times. This was the moment Jim realized he was entering the final phase of the game. He needed to hold on. He needed to see Mycroft, before they broke him completely. He could handle the pain, but imagining going through many more of these humiliations made his guts churn. And now that they had crossed the line from detached interrogators to men enjoying humiliating him, Jim knew his time was running out.

They went straight to the break room, rewarding themselves with a nice latte macchiato and joining Nancy at the sole table. Joel grinned when he poured the milk into the cups, "I'll bet the Irish shit would give the world for a bit of milk now."

"Probably. But that was a good idea you had with the chilli, Nancy."

Nancy smiled, "I am fabulous. So, any new information?"

Matthew shook his head, "Nope. But I guess he isn't able to talk right now anyways."

"Definitely not." Joel said. Then he looked Matthew in the eyes, "How did he react?"

Matthew grinned, "It was barely noticeable. But I could see it in his eyes. He was afraid for just a split second. He thought we would do it."

"Do what?" Nancy asked.

Matthew grinned, "This is no conversation to be held in front of a lady."

Nancy shrugged, "Okay. I have to leave now, anyways. See you later."

When she had left, Harry asked, "Are you really going to do this?"

Matthew sighed, "I don't want to. There's a difference between threatening somebody with it, and really doing it. Most men would have chickened out by now, he didn't. I think we have to, if we really want this code."

Joel looked more than uneasy, "Really? This is brutal. If people find out…"

But Christian interrupted him, "Come on, that's not really the thing you share with your loved ones. Especially not as a man. And he prides himself on being a man. Besides, even if it did come out, who will believe him? He's a fucking criminal. If we send him to jail, it will happen, too."

"But there's a difference between jail and government…." Joel said.

Matthew whispered, "Well, then we got to do this without the government." All eyes were on him now. Matthew looked up, "This man allegedly has a key code that could get him into any system in this world. Rumour has it that terrorist cells are competing for it. I have a family, and my youngest said her first word on the day we brought him in. My wife worries every day when I go to work; won't sleep till I am at home. And then she hugs me and tells me she couldn't live without me. I don't want this maniac to destroy this. I will get answers. And if that's the way to do it, I will not hesitate. And what the Government doesn't know…"

Joel frowned, "You want to do this without telling anybody?"

"Precisely so."

"You cannot hide anything from Mycroft Holmes, Matthew. Remember, he sees everything and can tell you your whole life story. He will find out. And then?"

"If Mycroft Holmes did not want this to happen, he would have gone and talked to him by now. No statement is a statement in this case. I will protect my family at all costs." Matthew got up. "I'll go home now. Treat my princess to dinner. Tomorrow, I will tell you what I do. I don't expect any of you to be part of this. But remember, you have families, too."

Joel watched him leaving the room, "My wife's pregnant." The rest looked back at him. "I know; I don't like it either. But Matthew's right. We've done many bad things together. This could be the worst thing we ever do, but if we manage to save the world, who cares? What do you say; we help Matthew? Leave the big bosses out of this?"

Nobody spoke, but the looks he was getting were enough of a confirmation.

If you want warnings for the next chapter, mention it in your review. I still don't feel too good about the "no warnings" thing.