Title - Break me down, Build me up

Rating - Eventual NC17

Characters/Pairing - Danny Williams, Victor Hesse. Danny/Victor

Summary - Danny is taken prisoner by Hesse and finds himself slowly broken down and rebuilt into someone else.

A/N - No idea if this plot works but I won't find out until I get it out there for people to read and give feedback on. Please be nice. This was a WIP before S1E12 aired and therefore shoudl probably be classed as an AU as it follows a different direction to when we last saw Hesse.

Danny woke from a heavy, groggy and pained haze, body numb. He was confused for more than a moment, unsure where he was, how he'd gotten there, wherever 'there' was. He was sprawled, face down, on a hard, thin mattress, itchy blanket irritating his arms, the pillow thinning and reeking of a musty smelling. He groaned and tried to shift, the effort protested by the rest of his body. Instead he lay still, forcing an eye open, the room was dark so he couldn't see much, he forced his hand to press on the mattress and managed to shift onto his side. Opening his mouth he tried to speak but the only sound that came out was a groan, low, mournful, pitying himself. His mouth felt fuzzy, like he'd just had a heavy drinking session, followed by a ten round bout of boxing.

Grunting he closed his eyes again and tried to get his mind in gear. 'Okay Danno, think, what do you last remember?'. Though he could ask himself the question and he was at least relieved he could remember his own name and make coherent thoughts even if he couldn't make coherent speech, the answers were blank. The harder he tried to think the less his mind wanted to play along, instead his brain was telling him he was in pain, but a dull, aching kind of pain not related to broken bones. Another thought of relief. Perhaps he had had too much to drink, passed out in some sleazy motel because he couldn't make it home. Yeah, that had to be the reason, so settling himself with that thought and deciding sleep was the best option to relieve himself of his current condition, he let sleep take him over like a wave.

The next time he woke his body still ached, only it was more intense, causing him to groan before he even opened his eyes. This time it was bright, day evidently and he turned his head, burying his face into the thin, barely evident pillow which filled his nostrils with a heavy stench. He grunted at the pillow, forcing his face up, forcing his whole body up - aches, pains, like his whole body was in a hangover state.

What the hell had he drank that made him this hungover? Because he was never drinking it ever again. Once his head stopped swimming and his body stopped aching a smidgen he opened his eyes, blinked a few times and looked around.

The room was bare, save for the bed, a jerky, metal frame of a bed and a screen the size of a small TV, embedded on the opposite wall. Frowning, Danny looked up the other wall, noting there wasn't a window, looking right up he cursed and squinted, looking down again. The high ceiling was where the light was coming from, demanding, harsh, light bulbs like spotlights shining down. He forced himself to stand, headed for the door, stumbling like he couldn't lift his legs properly, tripping over his own feet. He fell heavy against the door and it took a moment to focus on the handle, fingers grasping pathetically at it before he wrapped them round the small round handle. He gave it a twist and pulled but the door didn't budge. He tried again, and still it didn't move.

"C'mon Williams," he gritted out through his teeth.

Taking in a deep breath he gave the handle a hard twist and yanked, body pulling from the door but the door didn't move. It was after this third try a thought struck, muted and heavy in his brain that he was locked in. He shook his head, shook the door before his strength gave up on him and his knee gave way beneath him. He sunk to the floor, grabbing his knee, groaning and beating the door weakly with his other fist.

What the hell was going on?

He must have passed out not shortly after because when he next opened his eyes it was dark again, he was half propped up by the door and his leg had gone into a tight, painful cramp. Gritting his teeth and grunting he stretched his legs out before him, trying to ignore the pain. He didn't feel as achy anymore, his mind not as heavy though he remembered little. He remembered being unable to open the door and his brows knitted together in confusion. Ignoring the pain in his knee he forced himself to stand again and tried the door, this time getting a better grip, beating against it with his free hand.

"Hey," he tried yelling only it came out as a croaky grunt. Clearing his throat he tried again, shaking the handle with one hand, banging against the solid bulk with the other. "Hey!"

He ducked his head as the lights above came on, the brightness assaulting his eyes and he squeezed them tight shut. Putting a hand up to shade them he opened them carefully, shading them against the glare.

"Good, you're awake."

A voice emanated from the screen in the wall and Danny frowned again. What the hell?

"How do you feel Detective? I'm afraid the dose you were given was a large one, considering the distance we had to cover it was to ensure you could be transported safely before you awoke."

"What the - who is this? And where am I?" Danny tripped forward towards the screen, it was still blank.

"You were asked you how you felt," the voice answered. "Tell me how you feel detective?"

"Like a fucking prisoner," Danny spat out, seeing his reflection in the dark screen, hazy though it was, he looked like shit and it was a little scary to see.

"Now you will sleep," the voice informed him.

"I'm not tired," Danny replied, going for sarcastic.

The lights went out before he'd even finished speaking.

"Hey! Where the fuck am I?" He slammed his hand against the screen but it did little but cause a pain in his palm. "Hey, I'm talking to you."

Still no answer and no matter how much he shouted, questioned, yelled, pounded at the screen, at the door, he received no reply. The lights stayed out and his knee started to throb. He got a headache, his voice hurt from the shouting and eventually he threw himself down on the bed, despite his own protests that he shouldn't be doing what they wanted him too.

He fell asleep almost as soon as he'd closed his eyes.