Trapped

Chapter 12

Jughead shot up panting and soaked in cold sweat. He laid back down and tried to calm his breathing by reminding himself that it was okay, that it was just a dream. He closed his eyes and tried to ground himself. It was fine, there weren't needles all over him, Kurtz hadn't done anything yet, he was safe. But was he though? He turned to look beside him, to Kurtz's sleeping form. Of course he would get a good night's sleep. Jughead had never been a light sleeper. At least not before he was kidnapped. Now the smallest of sounds could wake him up. Now his sleep kept being interrupted by either Kurtz or horrible nightmares. And if he was being true to himself he didn't know which was worse.

Once his heartbeat slowed down and stopped echoing in his ears, he noticed the light sound of raindrops falling against the rooftop of the house of terrors.

"Rain? Even now?" Jughead knew how long he was up here. He just couldn't remember the exact date of the first day. He knew it was a couple of days after his dad's birthday which was on January the 20th. But he was pretty sure they must be already 10 days before the end of April give or take. He thought of his little garden outside and the seeds that had now blossomed into green plants. "The rain will do them good" he thought.

It had been several weeks since that night. The night after Kurtz had come back. The night he had suggested...

"No!" he interrupted his train of thoughts. "Don't think about it. Don't think" His naturally vivid imagination, which has gotten way more detailed during his time in captivity was now proving to be more of a curse than a blessing. Four months and three days in this hellhole. Four months and three days since the last time he spoke to another person other than Kurtz. He felt like he was loosing it. Every time he would remember something it was like a movie flashing before his eyes. If it was a memory of home he would feel loneliness and sorrow. If it was a memory from here he would feel the pain, the terror the disgust. He would feel the touches everywhere.

He felt the bed move a little as the weight beside him shifted and once again he shut his eyes closed and pretended to be asleep. And of course it worked. He felt Kurtz leaning over him and giving him a small peck on the cheek. Jughead groaned and rubbed his eyes and hoped that Kurtz could not hear his heartbeat as loud as he could.

"Good morning my love" he said happily.

'Sh*t morning to you too freak' Jughead's voice echoed in his head but he just put on a smile and said "Good morning" instead. Kurtz stretched like he did every morning and Jughead sat up and touched his back on the wall. He took this moment to check for the key inside the pillow case. Still there, still cold.

"It's raining" he heard Kurtz said.

"Yeah, it does. It'll be good for the garden" he said. He found that playing the part of the Stockholm syndrome victim was becoming easier with time. The more time he spent studying Kurtz, the more ways he found to control him. Even if it were little things like his mood throughout the day. He knew what to say to make him laugh or make him think twice. Sometimes he would convince him to let him have a little more food, a little alone time in the bathroom e.t.c. Truthfully, it wasn't much but in a situation like that he was willing to take what he was given.

"Okay" Kurtz sighed and went into the bathroom.

Kurtz usually followed a routine. He woke up, stretched, got dressed, helped Jughead get dressed and then he would unlock the bathroom. But Jughead was not too weirded out by this change of order in the routine. On the contrary, his thought lingered to what Kurtz had said all those nights ago, as he found himself doing often these last days. He had hoped it was just a thought. That he wasn't actually considering...testing on him. Jughead knew that all Jones men had some kind of addiction. He saw what alcohol did to his father. It was the reason why he went out of his way to avoid it. It was the reason why even the smell of beer made his stomach clench. It was the reason why he stared at his dad in terror every time he opened the fridge only to calm down when he saw it wasn't a beer in his hand but a coca cola. He remember how it was and he couldn't let Kurtz do that to him.