Ray Walters was an only child and, growing up, his parents were rarely home -his dad being the founder of a large company that manufactured phones and his mother a nurse because they didn’t need more money, but she didn’t like to feel useless- and so he was often left to his own device. They lived in an apartment (or several, after having converted the whole of the top floor of their building into one large, modern loft for themselves) and the boy would rarely leave, with few friends in or out of school. Like usual, the boy was home alone one evening, when he heard a noise coming from somewhere in his home, outside of his bedroom. He’d remained still, unwilling to be “that one kid in every thriller”, but that was deemed pointless when his door was opened and a hooded figure approached him, movements alarmingly slow. The man must have noted how startled Ray was, frozen where he sat, as before he could even think to move, there was a cloth covering his mouth and a half-shadowed face sneering down at him.
He woke up in a dated, minimal bedroom with a metal-framed bed and an ancient dresser and wardrobe. Days passed before he actually saw his captor, going without food for this time, until finally the man had entered the room and locked the door behind him. He’s crouched down beside the bed where the boy lay -his wrist cuffed securely to the radiator beneath a boarded window- and simply whispered “Welcome home” and from then on, their relationship was somehow prominent but… blurred at the same time. The man would treat him like a son, but rather than with the care, it was purely violence and clear disappointment. He’d get mad when Ray wasn’t awake when he entered his room in the morning, or when the boy didn’t feel like eating -which was the majority of the time- and when the boy asked to go to the bathroom when it wasn’t convenient or forgot to call the nameless man ‘sir’ after speaking. He was beaten daily, more than once, often without reason.
As months passed and the young man still wasn’t found, their relationship continued in this way - until his eighteenth birthday. It was unnerving, how the man knew what the date was, but he had, and he’d entered the room with a small, crooked birthday cake in one hand and a wrapped gift in the other. He’d grinned, said “Happy birthday, kiddo”, and placed the two items at the foot of the bed before, for the first time in all the months he’d been there, unlocking the cuff on Ray’s wrist. The gift was just a book, hand written and shabbily made by the man, it seemed. The two spent the day sat on the bed together and Ray was even allowed to call the man by his real name, Adam. He read to the boy, Ray listening to every word and it was… nice. Until the next day, when everything was the same as it had been before. But he couldn’t deny that having this father figure was somewhat relieving and he almost felt compelled to please the man, make him proud. He read the book daily.
When he was finally found, he’d been missing for seven months and at the sight of the police forcing their entrance into his small, dingy room, he’d cried out for the man but to no avail, unable to see him as he was dragged though the previously unseen house. After being taken straight to the hospital to care for his wounds, Ray was questioned, which was when he expressed his remorse and pity for the man. He hated that he couldn’t have been better for him, given ‘Adam’ a reason to be proud. He’d gotten he man in trouble -is he in trouble? You won’t hurt him, will you? Tell me he’s okay.- and, to him, it was unforgivable.
The eighteen year-old was in no state to go back home, his attention only on his kidnapper, even refusing to answer more questions until he saw Adam alive and well. This, however, was not easy, since the man had been armed and attempted to fight back. Adam was taken out before he had the raise his gun. After receiving the news, Ray broke down in a fit of screams and sobs because "he never meant any harm". It was the worst case of Stockholm Syndrome the doctors had come across, but it was the only thing that they could think to diagnose the male with. And since Ray now apparently had a one-track mind, caring only about Adam, they sent him to Blacklist to hopefully clear his mind and eventually reunite him with his real parents again. The only personal belonging he brought with him was a small, hand-written book that he refused to share with anyone.