Warning: This fic depicts themes of Rape/Non-con, Graphic depictions of violence and drug use. If this triggers or just squicks you, please don't read it.
There were a lot of ways that Jason had expected all of this to turn to shit for him – Maybe Vaas would kill him and do it right this time, maybe Buck would have succeeded in keeping him and Keith hostage, maybe the Rakyat would hand him over to Hoyt or someone else once he outlived his usefulness. There were a lot of ways that he expected things to go down and they all ended, predictably, in his death.
Jason wasn't dead though. Not yet, at least. One of the pirates had knocked him out – maybe it was even Vaas – but that's no surprise. He's used to being knocked out. He's been smacked upside the head by pistols and rifles so many times that he probably has some kind of permanent brain damage. What is surprising, though, is that when he wakes up there's no immediate danger for him. There's… nothing. When Jason wakes up, he doesn't see anything – it's so dark, his mouth is stuffed up and he can't move. He can hear chains rattling as he struggles to get out of his binds – no cloth or rope this time, no, they aren't going to be taking any sort of chances anymore.
A feeling of hopelessness overcomes him, even as he keeps struggling – screaming and flailing himself around to get himself out of this mess. He keeps it up for what feels to him like hours, and by the time that he has tired himself out he can barely breathe and his body is marred by self-inflicted bruises. Long after he's calmed down and sedate, the space around him is still pitch dark and he still can't see a thing.
It occurs to him that they might just leave him here to die. Why bother shooting him, when you can just leave him to the elements? Leave him to starve and dehydrate after begging and screaming for help. Odd. He never would have thought that Vaas would be so detached as to kill him like that, he always thought that the pirate lord had a more personal touch – a more deft touch – with murder. "It's simple like this," Jason thought, feeling grateful in an alien sort of way.
He wouldn't need to worry anymore – about anything, not his friends, not Citra, not The Rakyat, not even Riley. As selfish as it was, he was a little relieved and he almost has a sense of peace as his head begins to swim and his body swings heavily on the chains – going limp as he passed out again and slept for what he was sure would be the final time.
The first thought that Jason had as he regained consciousness was that it was too fucking bright like people were shining flashlights directly in his eyes while he had the worst hangover of all time. It was fucking miserable. "Jason, Jason, Jason…Jason Brody." A man with a South African accent said, "25 years old, born on a Military Base in Bell's Grove, California. You moved around with your family from base to base every three to six months until you were fourteen and moved back to California." He could hear Hoyt – that's who this had to be, it sounded just like the man on the radio call – flipping through pages and Jason guessed that he got his file somehow.
It didn't matter how, but he had to wonder if Willis was playing both sides and set him up. It wouldn't be a surprise. "Your father died in combat when you were ten…and your mother is a goodwill ambassador, for the UN. Important family, with a lot of high expectations that someone like you couldn't live up to." Up until this point, he had been talking about Jason and not to him, but then Hoyt asked him a question, "What would your dead, war hero dad or your goodwill ambassador mom think if they found out that their son is a murderer?"
When Jason didn't answer the slaver's expression went from jovial to angry and disrespected, "Hey, Jason look at me?" Hoyt called his attention, snapping his fingers in the younger mans' face. Hoyt spoke evenly and calmly, "I asked you a question when I ask you a question I expect a fucking answer. So, what do you think your goodwill ambassador mommy would think if she found out that her son is a psychopath, hmm? Think she'd be scared, or might she be proud of you?"
Jason didn't answer. He couldn't. He had no idea where Hoyt got all of that information about him but he didn't care. He knew that all the man was trying to do was egg him on and it was working, fuck was it working. He struggled to get himself to his feet, barely managing to stand – shaking the whole time as he tried to launch himself towards Hoyt. He landed a foot away from the man, a chain around his neck compressing around him and choking him half to death as he collapsed onto the floor.
Hoyt didn't seem impressed with his display of aggression. "See, I told you he would throw a fit when he woke up." He commented in a casual tone of voice as Jason coughed up spit laced with vomit and blood, as he hyperventilated with panic overtaking his senses. "He's so fucking touchy… but I see why you like him, Vaas, I really do." He looked over at Jason purposefully, "He's a good killer. A goddamn machine. He really could be useful to us, so long as someone keeps him on a tight leash and makes sure he takes orders…"
Jason frowned and worked to gather the strength to speak, "If you're going to kill me, just kill me." He said in a blasé sort of voice. "All of this menacing talk is…well, it's not as cute or charming as you think it is so if you're gonna kill me can you just get it over with already?" He didn't really expect them to respond to what he said, but he needed to say it – say something to them, look them in the eye and tell them that they could go and fuck themselves.
Jason had kept his eyes on Hoyt, so he didn't notice Vaas walking up behind him until the pirate lords' arm was braced over his throat – restricting his breathing as he did so. "What the fuck?" he snapped at Vaas, "What the fuck?" His voice came out quiet and raspy in his initial panic. "Shh, shh, shh… shut the fuck up, Snow White." Vaas whispered in his ear, smiling against his cheek as he clearly felt Jason's heart beating in his throat. "We're not done talking yet. Don't be rude, hermano, you're so fucking rude." With that, the pirate lord turned his attention back to Hoyt.
"I was going to kill you, at first." Hoyt hummed, "Maybe torture you a bit, cut you up, fuck you even. If I had the time… but then I had a talk with Vaas and I realized, why kill you when I could get my money's worth out of you? So, I'll give you a choice, Jason. You can either work with us, and we'll let your friends go home. They'll be safe, so long as you don't fuck us over." Hoyt smiled in a way that made him look like a parody of a kindhearted person. Jason snarled at his expression – he hated him, more than Vaas and Buck combined. "We'll be keeping an eye on them, oh, and your mother, just in case you try. Or, you can say no – I will bring your brother and all of your little friends down here, kill them in front of you and leave you to die."
A big part of Jason wanted to spit in Hoyt's face and tell him that he'd rather die on his feet than live comfortably on his knees but he didn't have that option. It wasn't just him that would be getting tortured and killed if he did that. "Some choice." He said to the men in front of him and shook his head in defeat. "Fine. I'll… do whatever you want. Just let them go." Jason didn't realize that he had been crying until he felt the wetness all over his cheeks. It was all so fucking surreal and unfair.
It wasn't supposed to be like this, he was supposed to save his friends and get the hell out of here. Not end up right back where he started, only worse off than he was before. "Atta boy."
The slaver hummed, one of his calloused hands gripping Jason's jaw hard enough to bruise as he held the younger mans' face in place. He was so close that the smell of Cuban cigars and bad cologne suffocated his senses. Vaas was too close too, he could feel the pirates' beard scratch over his neck. It was all just too much for him. It was all just too much, too soon and too fast.
"You made the right choice." He continued on as he forced Jason's jaw up and put out his cigar on his throat, eliciting a ragged scream out of him as he did so. "Take good care of your puppy, Vaas. Make sure he doesn't shit the bed." He said as he walked out, leaving Jason and Vaas alone again.
He didn't know what to expect from Vaas – he rarely ever did – when Hoyt left them alone. The only thing that he could be sure of, was that it wouldn't be pleasant for was gonna hurt him, just because he could, because he had proven himself the bigger and badder monster between them. He expects violence, but violence doesn't come – not yet, at least – and instead, all he can feel is the dull throb of pain as Vaas inspects Jason's bruising and the burns over his throat. "Tch, he got you good, didn't he? Fucker just can't help himself…" He said, speaking more to himself than he was to Jason. "Doesn't matter though. It's just you and me right now, Jason." Vaas murmured to him before he hoisted the younger man up into his arms with way too much ease to be natural.
Jason had been too weak to struggle or even snap at Vaas as he loaded Jason into his truck – he was still chained and collared like the animal that he had no doubts he would be treated like from now on. He wondered, as his vision faded to black again and he fell into another fitful sleep, how long it would take for him to just get used to being treated like one.