Stockholm Syndrome (John Seed x Deputy OC)

7 - Bottoms Up

Bouncing a tennis ball off the support beam, I sat on the wooden slatted floor of the porch that looked over the garden. The sun had begun to set and the sky had a meek orange glow. Loosing the ball from my grip, it bounced on the floor, then onto the beam and into my hand. I repeated the process rhythmically, humming to myself and enjoying the cool breeze sifting through the small holes in my woollen jumper. The door behind me creaked open as I caught the ball once again.

'There's some dinner on the table for you.' Not replying, I got up and brushed past the baptist. Making my own way to the dining room, I sat down and ate my food silently. John sat across from me, awkwardly eating his own whilst the clank of cutlery on the crockery filled the room. I couldn't deny it was a delicious meal but maybe that was only because I was so damn hungry. Within minutes I'd finished and sat back satisfied. 'You're a fast eater.' He noted, pausing to take a sip of water.

'You tend to eat fast when you've been half starved to death.' Sarcasm oozed in my tone and John sighed, dropping his knife and fork.

'I've been nothing but nice to you since we've been here sinner. I don't have to be like this.' His warning fell on deaf ears as I stood up defiantly, pushing my chair out behind me.

'Then don't be! I didn't ask you to be nice to me!' Storming out, I went up to my room and purposefully slammed the door as loud as I could. Turning around, I saw my clothes had been dried and neatly folded into a pile on top of my bed. Even my boots looked cleaner than I'd ever seen them. My expression softened for a second before I straightened up. No, he wouldn't guilt trip me by being kind to me. Focus Harlow, focus! Tearing the woollen jumper from my skin, I changed back into my normal clothes and curled up on the bed. It felt so good to be lying on a soft mattress and the duvet practically started to swallow me up. Allowing the covers to envelop me, I loosened all the tension I held in my muscles and drifted into a slumber.

'NO! STOP, PLEASE!' Blearily I opened my eyes, disturbed by the loud yelling. It took me a moment to realise where I was. I'd become so accustomed to waking up surrounded by bare, metal walls that I was surprised by the wallpaper and furniture. 'JACOB! HELP!' Shaking my head, still a little disorientated, I got up.

'John?' I called out, pretty sure it was his voice I'd heard.

'JOSEPH! SOMEONE! HELP!' Stumbling out onto the balcony, I made my way over to the neighbouring room almost tripping over the two wooden chairs that sat outside the doorway. Rubbing my eyes, I pushed the door to John's room open to see him violently tossing and turning in his sleep. 'I'M SORRY! I'M SORRY DAD!' He called out, his voice choked and frightened. Uneasily, I crept over to the bed and gently took his arm in my hand. Unsure of what to do, I gave him a gentle shake as he lashed out with his legs. 'STAY AWAY FROM ME!' I shook him a little harder and suddenly his eyelids flew open, unveiling his bright blue eyes. In a flash, he grabbed a knife from his bed side table and shoved me up against the closest wall. The blade pressed against my throat as he breathed rapidly.

'It's me! It's Harlow!' I huffed, raising my palms as he held me pinned to the plaster. John's breathing began to regulate and it's as of he only just then started to realise it was me. Lowering the knife, he let it tumble to the floor and moved his hands to my cheeks. His thumbs grazed the skin as though he was trying to work out whether I was real or if he was still in a dream. Suddenly out of no where, he collapsed into me and started to silently weep. His fingers dug into the back of my shirt as he held me close to him. My arms were still raised and I wasn't really sure what to do. I reached round his shoulder and began to awkwardly pat his back. 'Uhm... there there, it'll be okay. I think you just had a bad dream.' A lack of emotion emanated from my voice so I really did not sound comforting at all. I didn't cope with people crying in front of me very well. Particularly murderous psychopaths.