An: Yo, another Strike Back: Retribution fanfic! I'm just in love with the show and I love hurting Wyatt, what can I say? Enjoy!

Also, this is inspired by the prompt "Write a torture/captivity scene where the whumpee is kept for fun and without any reason" by WhumpersHaven on Tumblr.

Warnings: Some violence, a bit of swearing


"We can't stay here forever", Wyatt reminded Mac, not tearing his eyes off the building in the distance. He was low on the ground, the little slope in the ground giving him barely any cover, aiming his gun at the huge front door of the abandoned factory. "If they see us, we're as good as dead."

Mac sighed barely audibly. He, too, was keeping a tight eye on the factory in the hopes of catching a glimpse of their guy. "Five more minutes. He has to be in there."

He knew he wasn't supposed to, but he couldn't help glancing at Mac with furrowed brows. "We've been here for two hours, Mac. If the guy was in there, we would've-"

"There", Mac cut his teammate off and pointed at the factory. "Third story window, far left corner."

Wyatt turned his gaze back to the factory with a scoff. He looked up and saw it; a thin, tall man with a hood drawn over his head stood in the window, just looking out. If Wyatt and Mac weren't in the shadows of the trees surrounding the plot of land, Crowe would've seen them immediately.

"Shit", Wyatt breathed out. He realized he'd been wrong and bugged Mac for nothing, but hell if he was going to admit it. Instead of an apology or a 'you were right', Wyatt simply glanced at Mac again before crouching and picking up his gun. "Let's do this."

The cocky grin on Mac's face was annoying, to say the least, but Wyatt knew to just ignore it. "I told you", Mac said, carefully climbing to his feet but staying low as well, and then turned his focus on the factory. "Let's go."

As they jogged into the shadows of the forest and then quickly but carefully made their way towards the factory, Wyatt kept to himself. It was what he always did whenever he was mentally preparing himself for a firefight, because he knew it was about to come. The factory wasn't exactly crawling with enemies, but it was still at least ten to two, and he was never a fan of such odds.

They neared the factory in silence and then stopped where the trees ended. Mac pressed on his earpiece and quickly told Donovan what was about to happen. After the usual speech, 'don't die and bring the guy back alive', Donovan wished them luck and disappeared, leaving them in the silence. At least Donovan had promised to send Novin and Reynolds to their help. That was something.

"Ready?" Mac asked, shooting a glance at Wyatt's direction.

"Wait", Wyatt said, getting Mac to stop.


Wyatt looked at the empty entrance of the factory. It felt almost too quiet, too easy, like there was nobody in there at all. And in Wyatt's, and probably Mac's as well, when something seemed too good to be true, it never was.

"Don't you think it's a bit too calm in there?" Wyatt asked quietly, looking at Mac. He couldn't shake the feeling they were walking into an ambush.

Mac glanced at the doors. "You afraid it's a trap? We can't exactly use the back door either, remember? It's blocked."

"Just being cautious. If it is a trap and we let this guy go…"

"Exactly, we can't let him go, which means we have to move before they make us standing in here like two good-for-nothings. We got each other's backs."

Wyatt had to admit Mac had a point, and so he nodded. He was always scared before an op, but it was the good kind of fear; the kind that kept him ready in case something went wrong, and something always went wrong. Still, he couldn't just wipe out the concern wallowing in his stomach, and so he drew in a deep breath to calm his nerves before opening his mouth. "Yeah. Let's go."

Holding his gun a little tighter, Wyatt moved out of the shadows Mac two steps behind him. They crossed the ten yards to the front doors in a matter of seconds and then stopped. Their eyes met and Mac grabbed the handle, nodding as a signal for Wyatt to get ready.

Wyatt breathed in and Mac pushed open the door. It opened with a loud, long creak that made shivers run down Wyatt's back. Even if nobody had seen then come, everyone in the building had definitely heard it. They had to move.

He stepped into the long corridor that ran the side of the factory. Left there was the stairwell upstairs, covered in rubble and leaves and broken glass, and to the right, there was an open doorway further into the factory. They had looked into the place before heading here, and they knew that on the other side of the factory there was another stairwell, meaning they needed to cover both of them if they wanted to make sure Crowe didn't sneak out behind their backs.

"See you upstairs", Mac whispered with a smirk and turned left.

Instinctively Wyatt crouched a little, grabbed his gun a little tighter and made his way towards the doorway that some time ago probably had had some sort of double doors guarding the factory itself. Now the last reminder of said doors were a couple loose hinges still in the frame.

Inside of the factory was even worse than the corridor had been. Teenagers had obviously found it, because the huge machinery had been destroyed and spray painted. Walls were covered with different sorts of profanities and poorly drawn pictures of female and male genitalia. As Wyatt made his way through the huge hall, he tried his best to avoid the biggest pieces of glass from the broken windows, not only to spare his shoes but to avoid making noise. The machines spread around the hall offered him some cover, but the place was huge and if the hostiles attacked him now, it wouldn't have been difficult for one of them to circle behind him. It was needless to say he didn't want that.

A soft crack echoed from somewhere behind him, startling Wyatt just a little. He swirled around gun first, and let his gaze scan the hall. The place stood still and whatever had made the noise was nowhere to be seen. Shrugging it off as a mouse or something of the kind, Wyatt turned back around and continued to the end of the room.

He reached the stairwell fairly quick. Huge, broken windows gave the place lots of light, but even in the sunshine, there was a certain feel to the place that made the hairs on Wyatt's neck stand up. He still felt like it was too quiet, but on the other hand, it kept him on his guard.

"Reached the second floor. Nothing here, going up", Mac's hushed voice rang into Wyatt's ear.

"Ten seconds out from the second floor", Wyatt replied equally as quietly and then fell silent. He was halfway up the stairs as he reached the stair landing and then continued upwards confidently. Mac had said the second floor was empty; he needed to get to the third one as soon as possible, because Mac was about to face ten - or more - hostiles by himself.

Rushing the last few steps, Wyatt came to the top and stopped. A door frame that no longer held a door had been blocked with a drawer that reached Wyatt's waist. The alarm bells went off in the back of Wyatt's head; something was wrong. Why would Crowe have his men block the doorway? It wasn't something that bad guys did when they had no idea the good guys were watching.

Or, Wyatt thought, he might have been reading into it way too much and this was just another idea that the teenagers vandalizing this place had come up with. He set his gun on the drawer to have his hands free to jump over it. Placing his hands on the drawer, Wyatt hopped on top of it when something collided with his jaw and he flew backward with a grunt, landing on his back on the stairwell floor.

He had no time to waste and his instincts kicked in. He scrambled up just as a muscular man jumped over the drawer with no issue whatsoever. The man, who Wyatt immediately recognized as Elliot Grimsbane, a highly trained black-ops soldier gone rogue, was faster and grabbed Wyatt by the strap of his bulletproof vest, tossing him aside like a rag doll. Wyatt went rolling down the stairs, his head and limbs slamming on the edges, until he finally stopped on the landing. He felt blood drip on his cheeks from somewhere on his forehead and for a second he couldn't even draw in a breath - until he realized he was going to die if he didn't move, and forced himself up.

Grimsbane was halfway down the stairs when Wyatt sprung to his feet. "You made a mistake coming here", Grimsbane said, an emotionless look on his scarred face. "This is nothing personal."

"Give it your best shot", Wyatt encouraged him on, scared but positive that he could take this guy on.

Wyatt threw the first punch before Grimsbane could and managed to hit him on the cheek. Elliot grunted and staggered back a step, quickly ducking Wyatt's next punch by crouching down and charging at Wyatt. He grabbed Wyatt by the waist, slamming him into the wall back first.

"Shit!" Wyatt cried out as Grimsbane grabbed him by the wrist and forced his hand up while, with his free hand, grabbing Wyatt by the throat.

Bringing his knee up, Wyatt kicked Grimsbane to the shin and then swirled around, breaking himself free from his hold. He grabbed Elliot by the head and bashed his head against the wall. Blood spurted from his nose as it cracked painfully hard, but Wyatt knew he couldn't stop there. He grabbed his handgun, about to put Grimsbane out of his misery, when suddenly Grimsbane turned around and snatched Wyatt by the wrist while simultaneously slamming his other fist against Wyatt's jaw.

Wyatt's head snapped back and, taking advantage of the moment, Grimsbane yanked the gun away, tossing it down the stairs. He gave Wyatt no time to recover but quickly grabbed him by the neck, yanked him closer and then threw him at the window.

Wyatt felt the glass cut at his thighs as he quickly tipped over the edge - and fell.

He hit the ground side first, his ribs colliding with a stone the size of his foot. He could barely register what had happened when the pain already exploded in his body, and he couldn't swallow a groan. Black spots danced in front of his vision as he struggled to draw in a breath. Slowly he rolled over to his back and off the rock, tears making their way to his eyes as he tried to fight the overwhelming agony that flared down his entire side.

Grimsbane peeked his head out the window and smiled. If the pain hadn't been so bad, Wyatt would've told him to shove his smile up his ass, but it took all of his mental strength just to breathe. He just needed to breathe through the pain and wait for it to pass. It had to, right?

"What the hell happened?" Mac's voice came through the earpiece. "Wyatt. Where are you?"

"Elliot Grims-", Wyatt started but a stinging pain in his side made him stop and grunt. It felt like someone was jabbing a knife into his side, and he had hoped never to feel that pain again.

"Grimsbane? You shitting me?" Mac filled in the sentence and sighed. He was speaking quietly, obviously hiding. "You okay, mate? I got to get Crowe."

Wyatt nodded, knowing full well Mac couldn't see him, but he needed the reassurance himself. He was okay, had to be. And even if he wasn't, he needed to fight through it or he wasn't going to live to see the day he was okay again.

"Just get him", Wyatt gave Mac an order. He was a soldier; he was trained to survive these situations, and he could damn well get through this without Mac's help.

The mission came first. Capturing Crowe came first.

"Stay alive, will ya?" Mac said and the line cut off.

Wyatt sighed a little. The pain was easing into an achy, annoying throb, but a manageable one. He could do this. Had to.

Pushing himself up with his elbows, Wyatt looked around. Grimsbane was nowhere to be seen anymore, but he knew Wyatt was still alive, so he probably was coming and Wyatt needed to get somewhere where he had a chance of winning.

He forced himself to his knees and then, with a low groan, to his feet. He held his side as if it helped when it definitely didn't, and slowly started to make his way to the back entrance of the abandoned factory. It looked blocked, but Wyatt was hoping he could squeeze in anyways.

Reaching the door, Wyatt suddenly heard a soft thud behind him. He swirled around and saw Grimsbane standing by the nearest first story window, probably having jumped out of it to save himself the trouble of circling the whole building. The look on his face was ominous, and Wyatt backed away a step.

"Don't do this", Wyatt said as Grimsbane started approaching. His heart was racing in his chest as he looked at the massive soldier. Winning that fight seemed impossible in that moment and he couldn't stop thinking about the guns he'd left inside.

"I've got my orders", Grimsbane replied, nearing Wyatt too fast for comfort.

Wyatt froze. "Fine", he said, staring up at the taller man defiantly, and then moved. Before Grimsbane could act Wyatt had grabbed a brick from the pile blocking the back door and slammed it over Grimsbane's head. The adrenaline dulled the pain in his side but didn't remove it, and as he swung, his side sent a flare of pain up his arm and down his leg. Instinctively he grunted and doubled slightly. He saw Grimsbane reach out, aiming to grab Wyatt by the head, but quickly Wyatt ducked with a fast step backward. He didn't stop, knowing it would be his doom - instead, he crouched down despite the pain, grabbed another of the bricks and shot up, slamming his foot into Grimsbane's knee and the brick down on his skull.

Grimsbane fell on his knee with a cry as blood spilled from the fresh wound on the top of his head. The brick in Wyatt's hand was still intact, so without hesitation, he slammed it over his head again and then again.

"Wyatt, there's a problem", Mac's quiet voice echoed into his ear, but Wyatt barely heard him.

It looked as if Grimsbane was going to get up, so Wyatt hit again. He couldn't risk it. The brick broke, so Wyatt took a quick step back and sent his foot into his chest, knocking him on his back.

"There are only four guys here. No sign of Crowe", Mac continued. "Where are you?"

Grimsbane groaned and spat out blood but still pushed himself up to his knees.

"Wait", Wyatt told Mac, grabbing a third brick from the pile and moved closer to Grimsbane, staring him deep into the eye. Blood was seeping out from multiple cuts on his head down his cheeks and jaw, making him look even scarier than he actually was.

His cold stare pierced right through Wyatt as he glared at him. "I will kill you, asshole."

Wyatt scoffed. "Yeah, I don't think that's gonna happen."

"You sure?"

Mac's voice. "Wyatt…"

Wyatt furrowed his brows. This guy wasn't serious. Near dead and obviously lost, and still he kept threatening him?

Grimsbane's expression melted into a twisted smile but never took his eyes off Wyatt. "Good night, asshole."

Somehow Wyatt felt a movement behind him and swirled around - just in time to see the bottom of the gun before it collided with his head. He lost his footing as the gun slammed into his temple and hit the ground right next to Grimsbane. The brick fell from his grasp but before he could reach for it, Grimsbane had snatched it from the ground.

"Wyatt, fucking answer me", Mac insisted on the earpiece.

"Mac!" Wyatt started, but Grimsbane cut him off.

"Payback's a bitch", he said and slammed the brick over Wyatt's face.