Warnings: Torture, humiliation and angst! There are also non-con elements and threats of mutilation and sexual violence - I will warn on individual chapters so if you would rather avoid those, you can.

Written for 88keysOfSadism as part of the BatFam Christmas exchange

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Jan Bednarczyk was becoming more and more convinced this was a bad idea. It wasn't just the illegal thing, they were way past that - it was the way his cousin Mathew's friend had looked at him, like he was a bug, less than a bug; a dead bug in his soup. Then there was the gun they had given him. Jan had held Mattie's gun before; that had been so cool. Now, it was fucking terrifying to feel the cold weight in his pants. And his was only a taser.

He was beginning to suspect his mom's mistrust of Mattie was kind of justified.

"You ready, Jan?" Mattie asked, his voice a little high in his excitement. Something that was not reassuring, he was really into this, wasn't afraid of his freaky, well organized, snap happy friends.

Too tense to speak Jan just nodded, his face hidden under his cap. Why the hell did he think this was a good idea? Revenge was one thing, but this was going to lose his mom her second son as well as her first. The thought made him feel ill.

Mattie jimmied the window open, and Jan distantly noted that it was a bit too easy for all those locks. As he followed over the sill he couldn't help noticing the faint scrapes on the frame. Almost like it had been forced open before.

Inside the apartment was dark, and Mattie tripped over a pile of something on the floor, biting off a cuss. They both stopped and listened. The TV was on, but there was no other sound. As his eyes adjusted, Jan picked his way across piles of discarded clothes and sheets of paper stacked haphazardly all over the floor - for a cop, this guy was one hell of a slob.

They crept down the hall, as quiet as two jittery young men could be. The ten feet to the living room felt like a hundred miles. The room was dark except for the TV, and a figure was slumped on the couch, snoring gently.

"See?" Mattie smirked at him. "Out for the count, as promised."

Jan was relieved that the cop was already unconscious, as they had been told he would be, but there was still something off about the scene.

His teachers said he was a smart kid, very observant – so he narrowed his eyes and observed. The cop was there, the remains of drugged food still on the table in front of him. A few empty beer cans around his feet – he was wearing heavy-duty boots that had mud clinging to them, some of it was on the table where he had clearly put his feet at some point. And next to the mud, there was a cigarette stubbed out on the table. Who did that? If you were a smoker, you would have an ashtray, and if it was a one off deal, you would use the plate or a beer bottle, surely? The guy was messy, but there were no obvious signs of destruction.

"Mattie?"

"Mat," Mattie said, in irritation.

"This isn't right,"

"Not the time to change your mind, kiddo."

"I'm not a kid! I'm just saying something about this set up is wrong!"

"I know what I'm doing!" Mattie said. And his word was final.

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Jan had been right though. Mattie's friend, Anderson, had been livid when presented with their prisoner. It was the wrong guy.

Anderson had snapped some photos of the unconscious man, then given them a tongue lashing and some syringes of a drug to subdue their target. He followed that up with a look that said, do it right or you're on the chopping block instead of him.

So here they were again, breaking into the same apartment for the second time that evening. Except this time there would be no drugs to knock the guy out fist. Jan was only shitting himself slightly at that part.

They hid in the bedroom, figuring the guy would probably head in there first to change. The wait was excruciating and his breath sounded as loud as a freight train to his own ears.

Finally the door opened. The cop came into the apartment and then stopped, his body still. Somehow he knew something was off. It was creepy and Jan's heart started to race. The cop sniffed the air, and Jan realized he could probably smell the last of the lingering cigarette smoke. Instead of drawing his gun, like cops did in the movies, he slid forward on silent feet and stuck his head into the living room. Then he seemed to catch sight of the cigarette butts and beer cans and his face took on an irritated expression. He briefly examined one of the stubs and then tossed it back onto the table

"Jason?" he yelled, looking pissed off. "You still here, you ass?" He glanced around as if expecting the guy to spring out at him. Jan wondered what their relationship was; he certainly didn't seem too pleased at the intrusion.

"If you're planning some payback over the McGowen thing, then screw you! That was my case!" He listened for an answer and then cast a final suspicious eye around the room. "And if you're still here," he growled quietly, "then I'm going to beat your ass into the floor. Break in, eat my food, steal my beer then whine I screw up you operations. Bastard. And you damn well better not have pissed in my dress shoes again or no mercy!"

He moved to the bathroom cautiously, apparently still expecting 'Jason' to leap out of the darkened rooms. Then, shrugging, he set about clearing up the mess.

Mattie shifted beside Jan in impatience. He was going to go for it, and that was a really bad idea. Jan shook his head franticly trying to stop the inevitable, but Mattie drew his gun and sprang into action. He bolted down the hall towards the cop who was just heading to the kitchen with the half eaten plate of food and discarded takeout boxes.

One moment the cop was standing there blinking in surprise and the next he was across the table with an arm round Mattie's neck. His gun fell uselessly to the floor as Mattie scrabbled in the cops grip while he tried to keep his footing and avoid being choked.

Jan panicked, but it was a strangely practical panic, almost like he was operating outside of himself. He leapt into the room, brandishing his taser in what he hoped was a threatening manner.

"Stop!" he yelled, "you'll regret it if you do that!"

"Seems like your buddy here is the one doing the regretting." The cop nodded towards Mattie, who he had in a tight hold that looked very uncomfortable. "Why don't you put your gun down?" he sounded remarkably reasonable for someone being attacked in his own home.

Jan held up the taser, pointing it towards the ceiling. He was taking a huge, huge risk, counting on the possibility there was some level of care between this guy and the one they had taken to Anderson earlier. "Check his phone," he said, nodding towards Mattie. "If we don't call in, your friend is dead."

The cop blinked at him for a moment then slowly reached into Mattie's pocket –effortlessly resisting his attempts to break free from the lighter hold. Whilst he was examining the pictures, Jan slid his own phone out his pocket and flipped it on

"Our friend is on the other line right now," he said, and he wished he didn't feel so sick, because this would probably be really cool if he wasn't one hairs breadth from up-chucking all over his target. He swallowed it down, forced the words out calmly. "And if you don't let go of my cousin and do what we say, your friend will get a bullet in the head."

Slowly the cop released Mattie, who looked very relieved, relieved and angry.

"Get him!" He snarled, and Jan shot the cop right in the chest with his taser. He was honestly shocked he didn't miss. The cop went down and Mattie pulled one of the syringes out of his pocket and shoved the needle into the cop's shoulder.

"Sleep tight, pig," he said, seemingly pleased.

Jan felt a little sick.