36: Learned Helplessness

When morning comes, the snow has stopped. There's a harsh wind blowing outside the shop, rattling windows and slamming against the doors.

You're back in the chair following a forced breakfast by Kenny and a useless back-and-forth about your ridiculous means of confinement. Complaining about the cuffs led to a, "That'll change soon," from him and he refused to elaborate further.

So you sit in the chair and saw at the slat. You've worn off the sealant on the wooden slab, now faced with tackling the actual timber itself. Maybe if you're here for a few weeks, you'll eventually cut through the wood entirely.

Kenny and Caven wander the backroom, discussing random shit with each other. As the sun creeps in to your hopper window, Kenny makes a comment about Levi's tardiness. You panic, fearing for both your safety and his.

But the windchimes jingle and a third pair of footsteps stride into the space. Levi's voice is loud, more so than the wind.

"I'm back—let me see her."

"Wait out front," Kenny barks back.

"Dammit, Kenny, I need to make sure she's okay."

"Out front," Kenny insists. "I'll get you when I'm good and ready."

"Fuck," Levi curses to himself as his steps march right back outside.

He makes for a better lapdog than you do. It's quite easy to see where he gets his expectations for obedience from.

Kenny and Caven murmur to each other outside your room. You hear quiet words of confirmation from Caven, then dull praise from Kenny. They exchange objects before Kenny leaves to the shop's front, off to retrieve his nephew.

It's getting damn boring to only hear whispers and movements. You sigh.

The door opens, only Caven entering. "Hey. You ate already, didn't you?"

"Where's Levi?" you ask instead.

Her expression is stone. "Just tell me: did you eat?"

"Yeah. Kenny was here earlier. Where did they go?"

"Okay, good." She turns to leave.

"Wait, what? That's it?" You shift forward in your seat, craving more. "Do you have anything to tell me?"

"No." Thankfully, and contrary to Kenny's attitude, she actually sticks around a little longer. "I'm going to be here to keep an eye on you today. Shout if you need anything."

"Wait—hold on! Don't go yet." As far as captors go, she's not bad. Far more preferable than Kenny.

She waits, wondering what you want.

"Where are the other two? Are they coming back?"

"Probably not for a few hours. They're going on an errand, then Levi's headed to work."

"Seriously?" You drop back in the seat, your shoulders slouched. "I didn't even get to see him this morning?"

Caven shrugs. "Kenny's adamant."

"What errand are they running?"

Though you shouldn't, you think Caven is kind for taking a seat on your bed and indulging your questions. Her face never changes and her voice shows no compassion, but at least she's not neglecting you.

"He's just taking Levi along to help collect a payment. Levi's used to that sort of work—the three of us used to check on our clients all the time."

"What clients?"

"Probably better that you don't know. Deniability would serve you well right now."

"I'm not a kid, Caven. What stuff is Kenny involved in?"

"Anything you can think of. For your sake and Levi's, it'd be best to stay vague."

"Levi's sake?"

She fixes the ponytail her hair is pulled into. "You might get a bad impression of him if you knew what he did under Kenny."

You turn your head aside. "Yeah, because his reputation is spotless right now," you mutter bitterly.

"Is it not?" After a moment, Caven answers her own question. "I suppose not. If he's the same, he'd never leave a good impression on anyone. I'm amazed enough he's so attached to you." She glosses eyes over your frame, evaluating the wonder intern. "Kenny says the same thing. We thought he was a lost cause."

"He's influenced by Kenny," you point out. "If someone's to blame for the way he acts, it's his damn uncle." Finding a parallel in Caven, a woman in a shockingly similar situation, you have to wonder how she ended up in the same relationship. "I really don't know what you see in Kenny. You think Levi's so bad, but that jackass is just a worse version of his nephew."

She's not triggered by your insult. If anything, she seems to sympathize. "I could ask the same of you. What draws you to Levi?"

"Well, he's an idiot sometimes, but he actually cares about me—"

"As does Kenny, for me."

"Yeah, but Kenny's a horrible asshole—"

"And Levi isn't?"

You're about to retort but you have to hesitate. Your arguments are weak, your defense of your mentor shaky. It's awfully hard to stand up for Levi's character.

"Those two are unusual; I won't deny that." Caven rises. "But they're nearly the same person, and we can't attack each other when we've each chosen one to follow. You don't need to defend your attachment to him, but you can't fault me for mine."

"Caven," you attempt, but she's already slipped outside and bolted your door shut.

Hours pass. The howls of the wind outside torment your ears. That familiar ache creeps into your muscles, locking up every limb and suffocating your body. You beg Caven to take the cuffs off, but she announces she doesn't even have the key. You won't get a chance until the two Ackermans come back.

During your wait, you conduct another unsatisfying scan of the room. Everything is the same, even the abandoned meals from a day ago. They're starting to smell.

You crank your head over your shoulder to evaluate the hopper window, hoping to bask in whatever sunlight is available. The window itself is pretty tiny, but—you notice for the first time—quite possible to fit through. You'd need to get that glass pane out of the frame somehow, and you'd need to unshackle your own body from the chair, but once those are done you could slip out. As far as escape plans go, it seems doable.

Though nothing is doable with your restraints. Maybe once the cuffs are off soon, in Kenny's words, you can start planning your breakout attempt.

When the duo of Ackerman assholes return, there's hardly a gap between the melody of wind chimes and Levi bursting into your cell.

"Hey—you okay?" He puts a palm on your skull and pushes your head back, checking your face.

"I'm fine. Where were you?" You almost instantly jerk your head away from his hand. It's aggravating to be manhandled by Levi as Kenny would do.

"Kenny took me away for an errand before I went to Paradis. I tried to come see you—"

"I know. I'm sure you did." You somewhat believe yourself, but there's a sliver of doubt festering in your mind.

"I'm serious." Almost immediately, he picks up on your hesitation. "I did try. Kenny's just...how he is."

"I know." You have to remember not to criminalize him. Being grumpy won't help your situation. "Was Paradis okay?"

"Just fine. I didn't run into any faculty, so nobody's asked anything yet." He laces a lock of hair behind your ear, cherishing you like a fragile doll. "I'll take over your class tomorrow, too. Your kids might be disappointed it's not you, though."

"Fuck," you breathe. "I want to go back and teach them."

"Kenny wouldn't let you. I'm sorry." Making up his mind, he decides to tread a step further with a rather unusual action. "Let's not think about him right now."

To your surprise, Levi rests his knees on the seat and straddles your waist, merging your bodies together. His arms wrap around you, a hand pressing your skull into his chest. Enveloped in his grasp, you can only hold your breath and listen to your kickstarted heartbeat.

This is...new, to say the least. Of all the invasive or consensual methods of touch Levi's employed, this one hasn't been explored before. He's nearly cuddling you, hugging you tightly like a child would a stuffed animal. His chest swells and falls against your temple, his breathing level and calm. This position must soothe him.

You, on the other hand, can't decide if you're enthralled or nervous.

Because while this embrace is beautiful, one attempt to adjust your arms reminds you of the situation: chained to a chair in the pawn shop from hell. Two demons prowl just outside the door, ready to interrupt this scene at any moment.

It is warming to feel Levi, but your surroundings sour it. This touch should be shared in the privacy of an apartment, or the safety of an empty office. You should be able to reciprocate, not stuck fighting against steel bracelets.

"This all has been so nightmarish for me. I can't even begin to imagine how you're feeling." His calves squeeze your thighs, given little surface area to occupy on the chair. "You're still energetic, though. And brave. You're doing very well."

For now, you choose to close your eyes and rest. Melting against his chest, you forgo the urgency of the situation and take pleasure in his embrace for just a little while. Before the nightmare starts up again.

"How have you been doing here? Talk to me about it." His cheek rests against your scalp, his posture lazy.

You lift your shoulders in a slow shrug. "This damn chair," you sigh. "I'm so tired of being chained to it. I swear I'm going to go insane stuck to this thing."

"Oh. That makes sense." Levi's voice rumbles in his chest. "You'd still be trapped in this room, though."

"That's fine—at least I could move." You work your head off his chest to glance back at the window. "I could get to work on loosening that window. See it? I'm sure I could fit if I got the pane out."

"Hm." He does see your strategy, but he's not ecstatic about it. "Maybe. But Kenny will chase you if you escape."

"I'll figure that out later. As long as we get away from the shop, we're a lot safer."

There's a polite attempt to coax your head back down, one that eventually fails. "You don't know that, idiot. Kenny took his time before because he had a plan. He'll have less reason to be merciful if you flee suddenly."

"I'm not going to sit here forever because of him." Indeed, that stubborn gleam will not leave your eye. Even though Levi is cautious about joining your cause, you will remain firm in attempting escape.

"No, of course not." He brings his gaze back to you, reveling in your expression. Something about his reaction seems off—hypnotized, if you had to label it. Out of his own mind and distracted by something else.

"Levi." You glance at the knuckles he brushes along your cheek. "If you can, it'd really help if you could persuade him to unlock the cuffs. I'll actually have a chance that way."

Levi's lips form a thin line, a prominent tell of the anxiety in his mind. "I...well..."

His reluctance makes no sense. Does he really not want to leave this place?

"Hey," you press, prodding at his sealed thoughts. "Isn't that a good idea? I mean, Kenny already told me the cuffs would be off soon. It's not like he hasn't had that in mind."

"Yes, you're right." He offers those words like a cadet responding to a sergeant. "I guess he did say that."

He's still not saying something. His words are steeped in deference, like he's only saying what he's been instructed to recite. Concern brews in his eyes, his brows knotted and heavy with distress, but he's saying nothing that matches that worry. It's impossible to read him beyond that.

"Then talk to him and get the key. I'll find a way out once I'm out of the chair." It's such a simple request, it shouldn't even be questioned. There should be no doubt that escape is crucial.

"Kenny will kill you if you escape." It's an argument, but not his only one. The way he delivers it so weakly implies as much. "If you stay here and don't try anything, you're...safe."

There's nothing safe about this horrific pawn shop. You swallow down a flare of anger. "I'm not safe here," you whisper. "Neither are you."

"I am." Unscripted words, confident ones. "You'll be okay as long as I do what he says. Soon, I'll be able to visit you whenever I want—"

"No, listen to yourself!" You halt just long enough to draw your volume back down before continuing. "I'm not a zoo animal, Levi. Don't talk like it's okay to just keep me here for your comfort!"

"I'm not." Like a malfunctioning robot, he switches dialogue. He's agreeing again, remaining passive, all while contradicting what he was just hinting at.

He can't be believed. His words are manufactured—forced out to make you happy.

"Levi." You harden your expression and force his eyes to stay on yours, holding more power despite your subjugation. "I need you to look at me and tell me that you are not enjoying any part of this situation. Tell me truthfully."

His lips part, and for a split second you see them quiver. "I'm not."

But his voice trembles. It's faltering.

He's a horrible, horrible liar.

"You are." The two words are flooded with betrayal, turned from hope to disgust. To hear your suspicions confirmed just shatters your heart. "For fuck's sake, you are!"

"No," he reiterates. "I don't enjoy having you under Kenny's thumb—"

"But you enjoy having your stupid lapdog chained up and kept only for you! This—me cuffed up like this—you actually like it!"

"I don't!" His voice roars, though it carries a hint of fright. He's scared.

And you, you're livid. "Levi—look at you. You keep—keep petting me, and holding me, and all this...bullshit instead of actually planning a way out. I...fuck, I want you too, but not like this!"

"No—listen to me. I didn't want this to happen to you—"

"Then why aren't you helping me?" Your arms ache as you pull away from them, trying to reach Levi. "Why won't you try to get the cuffs off? Or the window pane loose? Or...something? Anything! Anything besides following Kenny's every order!"

"Because it's dangerous." He holds your shoulders still, preventing you from squirming. "I step out of line once, and Kenny could seriously hurt you. Don't you realize that?"

"I do realize that." Obviously you do. You know everything in this situation holds a level of risk. "But you're actually okay with that. You're complacent, like it's no big deal that I'm fucking stuck here."

"I'm not. I'm just...cautious."

"Well, Levi," you sigh, drawing your voice to a pitch laden with irritation. "I don't know if you've ever gone through this, but I am going fucking insane here. My body hurts and I have a constant headache—I can't take another second in this hard wooden seat. So, please, do something to help me. There's nobody else I can ask. I need you."

"Ah." A visible shudder runs down his spine as he gasps in a breath. He's a strong man, but he's got an awfully weak heart that's crippling under your needy pleas. Combing his hair back, he battles with himself for a few seconds before bringing timid eyes to yours.

"Levi?"

"I—you're right. I...um, I have the—"

"Kid." Kenny shoves the door open, catching his nephew in a rather improper position atop his intern. "Good god, runt. Are you trying to get her pregnant?"

"Fuck off!" Levi shrivels against you, clinging to your frame. "Let me have two fucking seconds—"

"Watch your tone, first off." Kenny treads closer and proudly puts a hand on his nephew's collar. "And come out. I'm having a colleague come to the shop—he'd like to meet you."

"No—I don't want to—"

"Wasn't a request." Kenny yanks his body off yours, dragging the smaller man away from his pet. "Come with me."

With clenched, bared teeth, Levi pushes hands into the body behind his, flailing like a weak child. "For fuck's sake—let go—"

He really looks like you. It's disconcerting.

"W-wait." You make an attempt to beg before the two leave. "Hold on—Kenny. Kenny, can I at least get out of this chair? Can you unlock the cuffs?"

After a brief moment and a glance at his writhing nephew, Kenny chuckles. "Can't," he answers, throwing his shoulders up in a shrug.

"What? Why not? Come on—this is unbearable—"

"Keep it down. Levi, heel."

Levi has no choice, towed away by the wrist his uncle grasps. He avoids eye contact with you as he goes.

You, left behind, struggle to withhold tears as you're sealed away.