Ned sits with his knees tucked as close to his chest as he can get them, forehead resting between them, bare feet curled together with fear. He focuses on breathing, tries to imagine that he is anywhere but here. He keeps his eyes closed and thinks of his apartment back home, with Digby curled on the couch next to him. He thinks of his kitchen, all the ingredients set out, just waiting to come together. He thinks his way through two pie recipes, but it's not doing any good. He can still hear the two of them talking, sometimes in a language he doesn't understand. He glances up for a second, just enough to see Meyer getting the rope, and that's when he knows he's been betrayed. He stares down at the floor, at the tendrils of poison ivy that are just starting to poke up between the floorboards.

He shuts his eyes again when Charlie draws close, tying his wrists tightly. Ned flinches away from his touch, though it isn't as if there's anywhere to go. Charlie's fingers are burning hot, and that is when he starts praying. He doesn't stop, even when Charlie leaves to fetch his torture instruments or whatever the hell it is. He only stops when Meyer starts speaking to him in that hushed voice, offering him hollow reassurances that he's sure are lies. Even if it's true that he's not going to eat him, Ned's pretty sure that whatever he has on the agenda, he's not gonna like it.

"Don't you fucking tell me to sit tight!" Ned spits, looking up suddenly, eyes narrowed with anger that's bordering on hate. He knows he shouldn't provoke him, but he can't help it. This is all Meyer's fault. He'd been just fine until he'd stumbled by and attacked Ned and brought him to the attention of his even more psychotic friend. He wrenches his against the rope, but it is far too tight for him to get lose. Then the anger is gone as quickly as it came, and Ned pleads, "Just untie me. I'll go out a window. I'll hide, I'll..."