bakerstreet | It's a trap

It's a trap

the TRAPPED meme

Your day has just taken a definite turn for the worse. There you were, minding your own business, exploring a cave system or wandering through a structurally unsound building or whatever it is you do for fun (hey, no judgement here), when by sabotage or natural disaster or plain old fashioned bad luck, suddenly it's collapsing all around you.

Tough break.

1. H/C options

Claustrophobia. Some people don't do too well with tight spaces, particularly when the way out just disappeared in a cloud of dust and rubble. Hopefully whoever's down there with you can help keep you calm.
Injury. Broken bones and blunt force trauma, oh my! Turns out collapsing chunks of ceiling are bad for the health. Who saw that coming.
BONUS ROUND: HEAD INJURY. Who am I, where am I, where the hell did this headache come from? Whether they've got a concussion or full-on plot-convenient amnesia, there's one thing to remember - keep them talking, and don't let them fall asleep.
BONUS ROUND: HYPOTHERMIA. Because it's not a H/C options section without the classic huddling-for-warmth trope.
Mission Failed. Well you may be in one piece, but whatever you were trying to achieve before you got trapped? Doomed. As long as you're going nowhere, might as well dwell on the consequences of your failure.

2. ACTION options

We need to go deeper. The way you came in is gone? Well that only leaves you one option. Better keep exploring, and hope there's a back way out everyone just forgot to mention...
BONUS ROUND: Shit, too deep. What do you mean you forgot to mark the way you came as you passed? You're lost? Well shit.
We're not alone in here... You hear that? Footsteps just a little too out-of-sync with your own, and-- was that a whisper of a breeze or something breathing...?
Dig for freedom! Wait for rescue? Pah! We don't need no stinkin' rescue. You can dig your own way out thank-you-very-much.
The next round. Whatever just brought everything crashing down round you? Whether it was explosion or earthquake, there's another one coming - you may have survived last time, but better get the hell out before round two or you might not be so lucky.
The show must go on. You're in one piece, so whatever you were trying to achieve before you got trapped? You're going to damn well achieve it, come hell or high water.

3. OBLIGATORY SMUT option

'cause you crazy kids are gonna stick it in there (pun absolutely intended) one way or another

4. WILDCARD option

Whatever. I'm a meme, not a cop.

Warning: This meme is likely to deal with severe injury, and may be uncomfortable for people with claustrophobia. Please be a good RPer and respect your thread partners' wishes if they are uncomfortable with something!

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[ Things are going relatively well until the jolt - and Hawkeye’s scream - startles Midge and produces a little scream from her as well. She wraps her arms tightly around him.

There’s a brief laugh from somewhere above them. ]

Sorry ‘bout that. Just need to do some work on the cables. I’ll have you out of there in a jiffy.

[ Midge breathes deeply in and out, her head resting on Hawkeye’s back. ]

See? The man said a jiffy.

[Really, this is the most reassuring thing she's done so far - and that's not a low bar. Feeling like he's not the only one who's pants-shittingly terrified is a huge relief, because even in the depths of panic, there's a part of him that's been squirming in embarrassment the whole time.]

[The laughter overhead doesn't help. But at least she screamed, too.]

[He exhales shakily, fumbling a hand up to grip hers.]

Yeah. And Truman said I'd be home by voting season.

Hey, when we get out of here, I'll buy you a drink, okay? Someplace with high ceilings.

[ As much as elevators and small spaces aren’t generally a phobia of hers, it’s still pretty nerve wracking to be stuck here. Feeling the contraption lurch made her life flash briefly before her eyes. Midge is ready to get out of here now. ]

Yep. Sure. Sounds good.

[ She squeezes his hand, her head still resting on Hawkeye’s back. ]

Uh, anyway, I’m not giving you any more jokes for free. You’ll have to come to my show.

I guess I can manage that. If you ask me nicely.

[It is, quite literally, the least he can do.]

But I am gonna heckle.

Go ahead. See how that turns out for you. [ She answers him easily, like he asked if she wanted a glass of water. ] Not only will I shut you down, you’ll also have to deal with an entire room full of mostly male soldiers who haven’t seen a woman in months and love how delightfully cheeky I am.

[ Midge never thought she’d ever actually have an answer to the question ‘you and what army?’. ]

People love how delightfully cheeky I am, you know.

[But he's not a woman. He's got to give her that one.]

[Now that he knows they're going to get out of here, he can breathe a little easier, even if he's still shaking.]

You’re not as pretty as me.

[ That’s what it comes down to, isn’t it? Midge doesn’t try to use her looks to her advantage. Indeed, she would never want it insinuated that her success has anything to do with her looks. But in this case, she’ll take the win.

She can hear the repairman clattering with some tools above them, and then the man speaks again. ]

Okay. Once I climb out of here I’ll send the elevator down to the ground floor.

Am so.

[Not-dying has given him some of his sass back. He bats his eyelashes, which mostly just emphasises how wild-eyed he still is, and then turns up to yell at the ceiling.]

Slowly! It's a long way down!

Such dainty eyelashes.

[ They’re not completely out of the woods yet, and Hawkeye knows it. She’s sure he won’t calm down fully until the elevator is back on the ground.

A few more minutes pass and then the elevator suddenly lurches to life. Midge gasps and grabs Hawkeye’s hand. Fortunately, there’s no fast drop. The elevator moves as it normally does until it stops on the ground floor. ]

[When she grabs his hand, he grips it tightly enough to be uncomfortable. He's stopped breathing at the sudden lurch of the elevator, and he doesn't start again until - finally - the door is open.]

[At which point he lets out a long, sobbing gasp of relief, collapsing up against Midge's side as he whoops for air.]

Jesus. That was going to be a really shitty letter, huh? Dear Dr. Pierce, we regret to inform you that your son was killed in inaction. Has he ever heard of stairs?

[His hand is still in hers, and still clammy with sweat. He doesn't seem to have noticed.]

[ She doesn’t even notice how tightly he’s gripping her hand as she silently prays for the elevator car to reach its destination in one piece. She, too, breathes a sigh of relief when they’re able to step out. ]

Are you kidding? My parents are having a fit that I’m even over here at all. If I got killed in an elevator accident though, I think they’d be disappointed it wasn’t a bombing raid.

[ Midge doesn’t even realize that they’re still holding hands, that he’s still leaning against her. A wolf whistle from across the hotel lobby brings her back to reality. ]

Hey, Doc, congrats on getting lucky!

[ Midge is so stunned by everything that just happened that she doesn’t have an immediate comeback. Is that what it looks like happened between them? ]

Buddy, you've got no idea.

[He laughs shakily, and nudges his shoulder against Midge's, then straightens away from her.]

I owe you a drink, don't I? And I sure as hell need one.

[ Her senses having returned to her, Midge calls across the lobby to the soldier. ]

Yeah, he got lucky that he’s still alive.

[ Literally. Midge guesses that most of the other people at the hotel didn’t realize they were stuck in the elevator, as everyone seems to be going about their business.

She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, trying to shake off the elevator ordeal. ]

Yeah. Lead the way.

[He doesn't need much of a push to do so. His knees still feel wobbly, his head pulsing with leftover adrenaline, but in all seriousness, I want a drink is damn near the top of his mind.]

[Smoothing his hair, he clears his throat and starts towards the nearest bar.]

Hey, uh. Thanks.

You’re welcome.

[ She’s not going to make him say what he’s thanking her for. A guy like him probably feels emasculated enough after his reaction to getting stuck in the elevator. The fear is real, and Midge doesn’t think less of him for it. She was pretty scared herself towards the end of it.

The hotel bar isn’t a far walk from the lobby. When they arrive, it’s full of soldiers, mostly men, who smile at her and tip their hats with murmurings of ‘Mrs. Maisel’ as she and Hawkeye walk by. Midge knew she was coming to a place filled with men, but being constantly surrounded by them, many of them hitting on her in one way or another, wasn’t something she had prepared for.

They sit at the bar and Midge orders a martini before turning back to Hawkeye. ]

Are you on call?

I'm on leave.

[He says it like it should be obvious - which, to be fair, it kind of is. MASH doctors don't usually get the chance to get stuck in a hotel elevator unless something is up.]

[He orders himself a martini, too - "Dry, dryer, driest - and leans his elbow on the bartop, flopping his cheek onto his hand.]

R&R, my ass. I better get back to the front lines, it's safer.

[ She nods seriously. ]

No elevators there.

[ They’re not going to talk about the war, at least not the visceral part of it. Part of the point of her being here is to help people forget about it, even if only for a few hours. ]

Where did you say you were from? Maine?

[It's exactly the right question. If there's one thing that always picks Hawkeye up - even while making him melancholy - it's talking about home.]

[He nods.]

Little town called Crabapple Cove, just up by the Androscoggin. I was working at the hospital there when the draft board came knocking.

No elevators round there, either. Pretty sure they only invented the wheel a couple years back.

You’re probably right. [ No offense to his small town, but she’s been to ones like it and… yeah. ] I’ve been to Maine before, but never there. [ Midge ventures that most people haven’t been there.

The bartender brings their martinis and Midge takes a sip of hers. ]

I’m from Manhattan.

Edited 2025-06-19 00:53 (UTC)

[He pulls a face. Full offence to her big city, but he'd rather die.]

The Rotten Apple, huh?

You wouldn't get me out there. Not for a full honourable discharge and a lifetime pension. Chicago was bad enough.

That’s alright. New York’s already got enough bad comedians.

[ She loves her city. It’s not perfect. New Yorkers will be the first people to criticize something about the place. Other people aren’t allowed to say a bad word about it though. ]

Chicago is pretty bad though. Can you believe they call that pizza?

Oh, Jesus, you mean Uno's? Yeah, that's an abomination.

But the ribs on Dearborn? God. Makes up for the mushy pie.

[ She nods seriously. ] I feel bad that they’ll never know good pizza.

Depends. Are you talking beef ribs or pork ribs?

[ One is Kosher and one isn’t. ]

They did both, I'm pretty sure. It's been a long time, but... yeah, I think both?

It was the sauce, though. God, you've got no idea how good it smelled. Ambrosia.

And none of it - none of it - was creamed. [After two years with Igor's mess tent cooking, the value of un-creamed food can't be overstated.]

I can have beef. I’m not supposed to have pork.

[ Meaning bacon is good and she sneaks a few pieces sometimes.

Midge makes a face at the word creamed. ]

Like creamed corn? I guess I should be glad that the USO is feeding me well. Nothing creamed.

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