bakerstreet | I'd go through hell and back for you

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I'd go through hell and back for you

the mutual captivity dependency (romance) meme

No matter how hard you fought, how subtly or overtly you rebelled, or how many times you tried to escape, you ended up at this point all the same: you're a prisoner. Perhaps you're just a regular, run of the mill captive, perhaps a hostage, a science experience, a weapon to be used, yet, no matter what, you're not free.

But you're also not alone.

There's someone else confined along with you, who you met through your mutual imprisonment. The only thing you two may have in common is that you're both trapped here - and that's enough. The two of you grow close (it seems you're closer to them than you've ever been to anyone, but that could just be the situation); soon, something begins to start between you, tiny and delicate. You can't speak to what that something is, not in a place like this, but you know you want it to last. They are another reason to keep going.

Captivity, of course, has a way of stripping everything from you, including reasons to live. Surely, it is only a matter of time before this small - and still somehow world encompassing - comfort is taken from you...

...no. Not this time. They've taken all you have, right down to your freedom, and it stops now. You won't let the person who's become most precious to you in this hell be stolen away.

No matter what.

HOW TO PLAY

Comment with your character and preferences. Are you open to AUs and assumed CR? What are your limits? Given the subject of the meme, there's likely to be triggering material here. Do you prefer very dark fare or a light at the end of the tunnel scenario?
There's one prompt that could be smut, but feel free to play it in others if you're open to it. However, I'm going to be posting this as a smut meme on TLH later this week.
Reply to others. RNG.

PROMPTS

Prisoner of War: Who's side were you on? Or were you just an innocent civilian caught in the mire?

Hostage: Take heart. You're worth more alive than dead.

Scientific Experiment: What an interesting specimen you are. You will have to be tested.

False Charges: One or both of you are here because of lies told against you; eventually, though, you may begin to believe that your worth is truly that low.

Do the Dirty Work: Your powers are useful, maybe even enough to use you as an unwilling assassin.

For Different Reasons: You're imprisoned for different reasons, and you still draw close. After all, does it matter when you're both stuck?

Most Unforgivable Sin: One of you is a prisoner in the most basic of senses: hostage, slave, what have you. The other? Well, it's much more complicated. The other is a person forced against their will to be a lover, spouse, or sex slave of those in charge. What if that other does find someone they actually love? It could cost you both your heads.

Equalized: Maybe you were in different social strata before, but now, you're both common dirt.

Should Be in Charge: One of you has a higher ranking in the system. Will you use your power to manipulate them or to skew things in their favor.

Beneficial: You both have something the other wants. It's a mutually beneficial set-up, and that's all it needs to be. At least, that's how it starts.

Love at First Sight: You never thought you'd see someone like them here, and maybe it's because you've been cut off for some long, but you're feeling so smitten, even if that's usually not you.

Needy: You're not cut out for this. Almost immediately, you reach out for anyone who can offer to take you under their wing.

Won't Fall: To you, it's all to keep yourself sane. You won't actually fall in love, not in a million years.

Traumatized: It's hard to care for someone so broken, someone who's seen such terrible things, but you do it anyway.

Brainwashed: Before you met them, you never doubted your masters. But now...

Flower of Hell: Such a beautiful ray of light should not belong here in this darkness. Cruelty will snuff if out. You don't want that to happen.

Kindness: They showed you an unprecedented act of charity and selflessness. You feel drawn to them.

Tend to Wounds: It's easy to get hurt while captive. At least you don't have to wait for your wardens to fix you up. You have someone kind or dedicated enough to tend to you and you alone.

Anything to Protect You: They can't protect themselves, so you'll do it for them in any way you can.

Using Them: Really, you don't care for them. You just want their protection and their help. At least, that's what you keep thinking.

Burned Before: You had another prisoner before that you loved, and they were sent away or killed. You want let down your guard again.

Human Contact: You've been deprived for so long, you crave any attention.

Can't Touch: You're in cells, kept apart. You can never touch.

Barely See You: There kept away from you and everyone else for most of the day, but you still have feelings for them.

Separate: They're to be taken away, perhaps even to another outpost. What will you do?

Frustration: How long has it been since you've been with someone? You may take any opportunity to get some privacy.

Have Hope: You don't want your partner to lose faith, so despite your own beliefs, you'll stay positive.

Promises: You keep telling them things, swearing that you'll follow through and you'll both be okay. Inside, a part of you may fear it's all hollow words.

Escape: You're going to leave, but not without them.

Punishment: For your crimes, both of you will be punished. How much will your affections mean then?

Forced to Torture: Not only does your closest person have to be tortured, but you're the one who has to do it.

All a Sham: The truth is out. They were only playing you. In fact, they may

Turncoats: Your captors have pitted you against each other.

Fight: You may argue or even come to blows, yet soon enough, you'll be wanting to forgive and forget because there's no one else to look out for you.

Jealousy: They're all you have here, so you're not inclined to share.

Taken by Another: Someone else captured here with you all saw what you had and decided they would steal away your significant other.

Know How to Break You: Your tormenters know they can't hurt you with torture, but if they hurt the one you care for? That's another story.

Death: There's no need for prisoners who won't keep on the straight and narrow. You've pushed the envelope too many times, and now, execution is the easiest option for your captors.

Finally Free: The two of you have finally made it out alive. Suddenly, in the light of day, things seem different. Was all of this, all of these feelings...were they true or out of some desperate need?

WILDCARD

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only | Expand All

Open to all prompts. Fine with AU and/or CR.

((OTA))

[ he's killed a lot of people, he fully admits to it. he's killed enough that he's lost track after the first few dozens, and while it's not something he'd ever admit to, it turns out he's a natural at the whole murder thing. it's natural enough that when Jacob opens his little music box, he doesn't even consider what's happening, he just does what comes naturally: kill, hunt, train, survive.

he's never really thought about the people he's mowed down, they're all peggies in the end, and after a while, you stop seeing them as anything but that. the enemies in his dreams are like that, vague people in vague hunting camo, yelling things he can't really hear but all he really knows is that it comes down to one thing: kill or be killed.

the conditioning bleeds into reality, and after a few days, it's almost impossible to tell anything apart. and that's why he's accidentally committed a little light murder, grabbing the last guard who put a bowl of water in a headlock, and taking the keys before making his great escape. too bad he has no fucking clue where the hell he is, and spends most of his time as a free man CQCing down the poor patrolling peggies he stumbles upon. to him, it's just another day in Jacob's music box coma.

somewhere along the way, he gets a hold of a knife, which turns out to be way more effective than his fists. also along the way, he comes across Pratt, who looks familiar enough that he doesn't immediately stab as he has the last two people. ]

You with Jacob now?

[ it takes him a while to figure out what to say. he's not sure if he's tripping balls, or if Pratt's here here and he's paranoid enough that he's not willing to take chances ]

[ Pratt stops and stares, a little unsure if he's just so out of it he's seeing things. That happens sometimes. ]

Probie?

Yes. No. I mean.. No.

[ His first thought is that he's gonna be in so much trouble when Jacob finds out the rookie escaped. Immediately he hates himself for that, thinking what Jacob would want him to think. While the music box has been steadily turning rook here into a one man army of death, Jacob has been working on turning Pratt into an obedient little second in command. A trained dog to do as he's told without question. Even now Pratt nearly runs to go get him.

But he manages to stomp that instinct down. There's still enough of the old Pratt in there to quash Jacob's conditioning. Most of the time. ]

How did you get out? Where .. Nevermind, you're gonna be found if you stay here. You need... need a gun. Come over here.

[Pratt cautiously looks around before darting away towards one of the locked rooms. He fumbles around with the keys on his belt before unlocking it. Jacob is going to kick the shit out of him if he finds out about this.]

[ what Pratt says is a lot more than yes, but all he hears is yes. there's hesitation in the rest of it, and in flight or fight mode, there's no room for uncertainty. he balances the knife in hand, even going as far as to flip it over his palm as he tries to figure out if Pratt is leading him into a trap, or if it's the old rascally Pratt, the one that could be both a jerk and helpful in the same breath.

he's still thinking even as he follows silently behind, too busy considering his options to really respond to Pratt's worry. when Pratt turns his back on him, he makes his move, stepping in and placing his free hand on Pratt's shoulder and holding down firmly. if it were any other situation it'd be a comforting gesture, but it's obvious here that there's a threat behind it. normal rook wouldn't ever violate someone's personal bubble like this. ]

We both need a gun, [ a gentle correction, but also a test ] 'cause we're both getting out of here, yeah?

[ look Pratt, he'd rather not shank another deputy but the urge to hunt and kill is still there, and he's still doubtful to Pratt's true loyalty. ]

[He nearly panics, freezing before darting into the room and away from being touched. Panting, he presses himself against the wall staring at rook like a cornered animal about to be attacked by wolves.

Pratt's never been a nervous person, he's not timid, in fact he's kind of a jerk. But now he's a complete hyperventilating mess of fear and panic. He tries to pull himself together, and it's a hard, visible process as he swallows down his gulping breath and shoves his palms into his eyes hard enough to see bright colors behind his eyelids.]

I can't. I .. I can't. You can. You're so much stronger. You can escape. Here. Come here.

[He opens the weapons locker, hands shaking as he starts to pull things out and lay them on the table.]

You have a chance of escape. I'm weak, I'll hold you back, pull you down.

[ the fact that Pratt is so uncharacteristically... not Pratt gives him pause. the Manchurian Candidate in him thinks that since Pratt obviously doesn't want to come along, he's weak and needs to be culled. he ignores it, knowing that it's obviously Jacob talking, but the idea sits at the back of his head insidiously, telling him that its not such a bad idea.

he breathes, giving himself a few seconds to collect his thoughts and come up with a plan, before speaking up again. ]

We're both going. [ said with a little more insistence this time as he circles around table, glancing down at the guns but keeping his attention on Pratt ] You and me, we're both here, right now and you—

[ he's stumbling over his own words. not surprising, considering he's hungry, angry, tired and confused all at the same time, but even then it's clear to him that his half hearted speech isn't going to work. for once, he's at a loss. convincing people with words was never his forte, and it was clear that he couldn't just bully Pratt into coming along either.

he grabs the gun Pratt currently has held, careful not to grab the other man in the process, stopping him before he can place the rifle down on the table. he just needs Pratt to stop and really listen. ]

Neither of us is making it out on our own. I'm on my last leg, and without you watching my back, I'm good as dead. [ his voice is urgent and low, before dropping to something more earnest ] Pratt, come on. Please.

[Pratt stares at him. Almost uncomprehendingly, the eyes of a man who has seen too much and been forced to participate in things that are absolutely eating away at him. He's completely broken; physically, mentally, emotionally, he's a nervous ball of energy zipping around various emotions as he tries to just survive from one minute to the next.

It takes a few minutes before his brain even processes what's being said, and then a couple tries before he can stammer out some kind of response.]

You'll make it. You're strong. I'm already dead.. I'm .. [his eyes flick around with realization as he repeats himself.] I'm already dead.

[It's almost as if a switch is thrown and at least some of Jacob's conditioning washes away. It's true, the old Pratt is dead, he's not sure if he can ever get him back, but he's still here. Still existing. Still surviving. And like hell did he live through everything Jacob did to him to just die in this prison or become that man's obedient dog.]

Okay. Okay to get out of here we need to get another level up. There'll be guards on the staircase. Jacob doesn't let security slide and there'll be alarms and judges on us as soon as they realize what's happening.

[He leans heavily on the table, eyes boring a hole into it as he tries to mentally go over an escape route. It's hard to concentrate when his brain is screaming at him but he's trying so hard to focus. To be the Deputy he's supposed to be and not the terrified thing he's become.]

I don't have the keys to the outer doors.

[ thank the fucking lord. he lets out a sigh of relief, finally letting go and placing the rifle down on the table gently... before picking it up again and throwing it over his back. he'd swear he'd never used an AR-C before, but it's familiar in his hands, down from the bolt to the barrel to the odd kick it had when it toggled from single fire to burst. weird.

he listens quietly, trying to digest all that Pratt is telling him, and plan. all the things Pratt lists as problems he sees as minor roadblocks. at a point, it's hard to tell where his natural instincts began and where the programming ends. normal rook would have done the same before all this, right? right?? ]

We'll kill them.

[ in the same kind of tone one would use to state they were going out to pick up Starbucks. he picks up a regulation pistol off the table, ejecting the magazine to check if it was loaded, before reloading and holding it out for Pratt. the power's in your hands now, Pratt. ]

You know who would have them? The keys?

Everyone?

[He feels stupid immediately after he says it. Of course everyone. That's the Train • Hunt • Kill • Sacrifice™ way. But Pratt has not bought into wholesale killing as the answer to everything like Jacob preached. Sure the compound is filled with people who definitely deserve to die, but at least half the people are just as abused and terrified as he is. People who never wanted to be there in the first place, who had lost themselves to Jacob's conditioning.

And he knows that feeling, he's there, right now.

Resolve hardening he takes the gun, slipping it easily into the empty holster still at his belt. It would almost be a mercy killing for those people.]

Right. Everyone.

[Who would have those keys though? He never left this place without Jacob and he is definitely not going to suggest they go after the man with the music box. ]

The Judge handlers might. They have to take them outside to hunt.

[ is there a succinct way to say 'anyone who acts and looks like a threat?' no, not really. he shrugs to one side, clarifying ]

Peggies, you know.

[ anyone that shoots back, basically. but not being a kind of guy who takes chances, what he really means is 'anyone who looks like they'll shoot back'. he nods back at Pratt, glad for the acknowledge that they're both on board, before realizing how odd it is that he's passing out the orders, and throwing up the ideas when it'd been the other way around for the entirety of his career. apparently all it takes for a promotion is HILLBILLY CULTs. who knew.

with a plan set, he takes point, leaning out into the hallway they just left to check for patrollers. it's empty from what he can tell, but it's impossible to see past a few feet with only the flickering, dull lights for illumination. it's easy enough to hear the wolves below them, pacing and panting. they're far enough to not sense them, he imagines. they just have to keep quiet. ]

We got this. [ as confident and genuine as he can get, which isn't very, because it's been a seriously bad fucking week. ] No different than another day back at work, right?

[Pratt's seniority means nothing when his brain is basically a chewed up wad of saltwater taffy at this point. He shoulders a shotgun before following Rook, because he doesn't trust his aim with a pistol right now and at least a shotgun will hit something if he misses completely. He's been eating more than most of the people here, but considering the fact that he's mostly eating dog food and people Jacob has culled, he generally pukes most of it back up. Sustenance or not, he's not a fan of the whole cannibal thing.]

Sure. I fondly remember those days of breaking out of bunkers in between chasing down someone who stole pumpkins from Rae-Raes and drunk drivers on lawnmowers.

[At least sarcasm makes him sound more like himself.]

If the Judges aren't with their handlers I might be able to get them to leave. Or make them think they're going on patrol.

Or you know ... get eaten.

If I get eaten by wolves can you make up something better to tell Hudson?

Tabby Smith (Meltdown) | Marvel

Rogue | xmcu

Deputy Pratt || Far Cry 5

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