Stockholm Syndrome - A Harry Styles Fic

It had been a few weeks since Christian left, although time had no meaning in the basement. It had no meaning in the day – it simply had no purpose in the cabin.

Harry was playing idly with the old wooden knob on the radio trying to get it tuned to a station outside talk radio. Strangely though, he found the hosts humor spirited and he almost felt like they were old friends. It was on a specific night, just before dinner Harry managed to find a news station. Deciding he needed a break from the hosts talk on how to make a realistic Halloween costume he flipped through the channels – that’s about as much control over something as he had.

The news channel he put on had been replaying the press conference from weeks previous, commenting sparely in between the questions between each other. It was two men, talking about him and his bandmates.

“I don’t know Steve, this all seems staged to me. I mean we’ve heard of celebrities faking their own death-why not their own kidnapping? One Direction is still popular but-they’ve gone down on the totem poll in regards to more famous celebrities like Justin Bieber.”

Harry’s mouth dropped open.

“Fuck you ass monger. Why would I fake my won kidnapping?” Harry growled about to turn it off but the next guy’s response stopped him.

“This would be something Justin Bieber would do-One Direction…with the tour coming to an end and a new record supposedly being recorded right after, it would be the worst timing if this were just a ploy by their management. I don’t think this is a play, Zack. Remember that case we heard about? Jack Broadway’s son being murdered? Harry’s abduction seems to have gotten his attention because Broadway was seen with the boys early last week and he seems to of partnered up with Phillandrias-which you know didn’t end well last time as you remember. Let’s hope both men can get their heads in the game and bring Harry home-“

The other guy, Zack cut him off.

“If this is legitimate. I’m not sold yet. I want to see pictures, proof of him being tied down and brutally beaten. If the cops released a picture like that-I might believe it but I’m not sold. Too many inconsistencies. Just like I’m still unbought from the Broadway case. I feel for the man who lost his son but his son had the opportunity to escape. He called his father to tell him that they finally trusted him and not to worry-to me, if I was in that situation I would play nice and the minuet one of them made a mistake-escape or kill them.”

“You say that but we don’t know the extent of the situation. For all we know the Organization keeps their victims in a straightjacket, blindfolded, gagged and in a dog cage with four titanium steel locks with specifically made keys, a shock dog collar chained to the outside of the kennel that zaps them every time they make a sound and concrete shoes on their feet to keep them in one place,” Steve responded before adding. “The Organization is real-if they truly did have anything to do with it, I wish Harry the best and pray for his safe return.” Steve finished on the subject before Zack seemed to pick up with a joke to break the tension between them.

“That sounds strangely something you do on your Saturday nights off with your girlfriend-bit kinky there, Steve.” Zack chuckled but heard Steve shift to the latest weather-a bit somber this time.

“Thanks for giving them more ideas to torture me with you asshole.” Harry seethed, clicking the knob off with a dissatisfied grunt.

“I wouldn’t worry too much there Harry. Jackson sent your tattoos back to your family-I’m surprised that didn’t make the news in itself.” Sorrow said dully, coming in with a tray. She noticed he shut down almost instantly, crossing his arms over his chest and going to lean back against the wall. Ever since the mattress was taken away again, Harry hadn’t spoken much to either William or Sorrow-not that he had much to say since his tattoos were cut off and even less with his toe. He found the fewer words he said, the better it was for him.

Sorrow walked over and handed him his tray, turning to walk out again stopping before she was completely out of sight.

“You can glare and wish me to drop dead all you want, I’ve wished that for years-so far I’ve learned wishes are for fairytales and nothing good ever happens in this life unless you make it happen. Just a little food for thought there Harry before you eat.” Sorrow said, noticing he threw the tray down on the floor and pushed it away with his foot.

“I’m not hungry.” Harry told her simply turning his nose up at the plain slice of pizza, yogurt and orange juice.

“It’s all you’re getting until tomorrow so eat, don’t eat-I just don’t care. You’ve been draining on all of our nerves for the past two weeks and I’m sick of it-“Sorrow began but Harry interrupted-somewhat taken aback.

“You’re sick of it? YOU’RE sick-if that isn’t the most Ludacris thing I’ve heard all week! You make those two idiot newscasters sound like Einstein. You’re not the one chained up to a WALL. You’re not the one brought crap food or have to sleep on the hard FLOOR since your only source of comfort was taken away!” Harry yelled fed up with her and the way she had been treating him the past few weeks.

“If we could trust you with a mattress than we’d leave it in here but you’ve proven to us that you can’t be trusted.” Sorrow replied calmly, walking forward a few steps as Harry finally looked up at her.

“I’ve begged you for writing material and you’ve refused. It’s not like I can swallow a pen or paper pad. I need something to keep my mind busy other than that stupid game William gave me! Or is the goal to literally drive me insane?” Harry fired back, attempting to stand up.

Sorrow walked the rest of the way and pushed him back on his ass, giving him a hard look as she did so.

“You know you’ve been having problems standing, give it a rest.” She warned, standing back before Harry could retaliate.

“No thanks to your boyfriend, no thanks to you.” Harry huffed.

William walked into the garage with his black bag, surveying the scene.

“What’s the problem??” William asked cheerfully coming to Harry and kneeling down toward his foot, examining the wrapped limb.

“I want something to write with, I want something to write on-I need something other than this stupid game and I need something to listen to other than talk radio-I want out of this basement. I want to see something besides four walls.” Harry demanded glaring at William, knowing he had a better chance at getting slapped in the face.

William didn’t react to Harry’s outburst as he’d been around him enough to know the singer was blowing off steam.

“How do you suppose we do that? It would hardly seem right to chain you up and let you outside on a leash-sounds a bit degrading,” William reasoned calmly as he gently unwound the gaze from Harry’s foot, looking at the vacant space where his small toe use to be seeing the flesh had pretty well closed over with the help of the stitches. “Your wound seems to be healing nicely. We’re going to keep it bandaged for another week or so and then it should be well enough to be permanently unwrapped.”

Harry rolled his eyes, he was tired of being patronized.

“Look, I need to get out of here. It’s been a month – maybe more? I can’t keep track and I need something besides this God forsaken radio. I need out, does that not compute? I don’t care if you have to mummify me in duct tape, I want out of this madhouse!” Harry yelled, giving his tray a vicious kick across the floor, the food and the orange juice flying out.

“You give us no reason to trust you, why would we risk our necks to do something you want when you don’t show us you can be trusted? If you weren’t so hostile all the time there would be no reason for us to be so on edge. Maybe if you started cooperating, we could lax up on a few rules.” Sorrow interjected before William could say anything, following the tray with her eyes.

“I haven’t even been saying more than one word answers for the last two weeks, I’ve been quiet! How is that not reason enough?! That’s bollocks!” Harry exploded, looking at William who put his hand up to attempt to calm the situation.

“Listen, you’re not here for a vacation, you’re not here for a job – you’re here because the Organization wants you to be. Until further notice, until they tell me differently you are staying how you are.” William told him, seeing Harry almost deflate in defeat against the wall. There wasn’t much he could say to that.

“I don’t know Will, if he wants outside so damn bad he should be allowed – the temperature is above freezing, let him out for the night tied and gagged to a tree.” Sorrow barked back hastily, dropping to her knees to clean up the mess.

“Fuck you, you red headed bit-“

William slapped his hand across Harry’s mouth with a sigh.

“Come on Harry, you’re twenty-one. I think name calling is over rated, especially at your age.” William said, looking at Sorrow. “And you need to stop antagonizing him. We’re all stressed over something and I think we all need to take a little time out.”

William paused, removing his hand from Harry’s mouth. “If you’re good and this is a strong if – I will bring a television in here and hook it up, let you watch for a while but I need you to stop getting short with Sorrow.”

“Bullocks! She’s been getting short with me!” Harry defended himself glaring over at the red headed demon seed from hell.

William sighed again, this time in defeat.

“Ok but she didn’t kick her tray away and declare war on the entire cabin. Everyone’s miserable Harry, a little consideration wouldn’t hurt.”

Harry’s mouth dropped open.

“You have got to be kidding me! You two haven’t been kidnapped, abused, tortured, and chained up like an ANIMAL! So pardon me for my lack of consideration! You two could do the right thing but you won’t! You’d rather live by an excuse…I’m not buying it anymore. Let me go, this game has gone on long enough!”

Sorrow got up from the ground she had been cleaning and approached Harry, kneeling down next to William who was bandaging the singer’s foot. Her gaze was so calm that Harry didn’t expect her to haul off and slap him across the face.

When his head snapped back the sensibility seemed to get slapped back into him and he was silent, looking at his captor in shock.

“This isn’t a game, Harry.” She started him calmly, catching William’s gaze for a brief second before he finished what he was doing and started packing up. “People have died and I don’t want that for you but if you don’t get a hold of yourself I’m going to have William get the straightjacket and let you see just how uncomfortable we can make you. The floor is nothing in comparison to being straightjacketed onto a hard wooden chair but I will be happy to do that if you think your captivity so inhumane. I’m done playing YOUR game Harry-do you understand?” Sorrow warned, her hand over her stomach defensively trying to keep herself together emotionally.

William noticed this and shushed her putting an arm around her shoulders and whispering something into her ear.

She nodded and stood up but not before throwing something at her prisoner, who was glaring daggers.

“You want out so bad superstar? Then I’ll make you a deal, pick your anklet. If you successfully get that shackle off your ankle then you’ll be allowed off the chain and free to roam about for a time. If you don’t you’ll remain attached to that wall and if I hear anything more out of your mouth about being set free, I’ll do more than bruise your face.” Sorrow delivered the ultimatum, much to the disapproving look William was giving her.

“I don’t know how to pick a lock…” Harry responded, a little bit taken aback but picked up the bobby pin that was thrown at him.

“That’s your problem, I’m giving you twenty-four hours. If you’re such a smart lad, prove it. Prove to me you have what it takes to survive-pretend that in a days’ time you’re going to die, you have one way of survival and that’s to pick a lock and escape. You have the incentive, now let’s see if you actually have the talent. You’re good with your mouth, we’ll see if it’s good for more than singing and eating pus-“Sorrow’s mouth was inevitably stopped before she could finish her sentence. William had taken the liberty of putting his hand over hers.

“Fuck you, I’m not proving anything!” Harry shouted, throwing the bobby pin away from him but still enough so it was still within his reach.

“Then shut up and resign yourself to that wall because that’s the only thing you’re going to see until you break or until the organization transfers you. If you aren’t suitable to the buyer though, I suggest you get use to the idea that you might die staring at four walls and the next person who has you probably won’t be as kind or understanding as us.” Sorrow warned but stood up and headed for the door with William in tow.

“It’s all just an act with you isn’t it? The caring then the cold shoulder – you don’t mean any of it…If that’s really the case why should I give a damn?”

Sorrow turned back one last time.

“The problem with me is I care way too damn much. Believe what you like because you’re not going to listen anyhow and I’m not going to waste my breath. Rot in here and starve for all I care, I’m done Harry-I’m…I’m done.” Sorrow said in finality, going out and slamming the door after William had gone through, followed by the dull light being turned out by way of a switch inside the house.

Having not expected the sudden darkness Harry jumped. He didn’t know a grown adult could be afraid of the dark. At least with the dim bulb it had provided sight – without it he was encased in the inky blackness, unable to breathe. For the first time in his life Harry Styles was having an avid and very bad panic attack.

“I’m having a heart attack!” Harry yelled out into the darkened room, struggling to find the radio that had been by his side, at least a small little side light had lit up when he turned it on, with no luck of calling his captors back he turned on the radio and searched for talk radio. Once he found it he tried to concentrate on their voices. For some reason it wasn’t working and his breath got more dire. It was the worst he had ever felt and he didn’t even know what to do.

Laying down on the cold hard floor Harry curled into himself, starting to sing softly to the empty space. Anything was better than feeling alone.

A few lyrics in Harry stopped all together, knowing he was well and truly on his own. It magnified in his heart and he looked up at the nothingness that surrounded him and screamed for all he was worth.

Inside the cabin Sorrow sat by the fire, glancing up from the book she had just opened, a deep frown on her beautiful features.

“He won’t last too much longer.” She noted, looking to William who was flipping through a magazine.

His response was calm, one they had talked about before.

“And you would see him break after only a month?”

Sorrow shook her head.

“No, Harry is strong. If we gave him up now he’d be dead before afternoon. His spirit needs to be truly broken and right now he’s struggling to keep it whole. I need to give him a bit of false hope – it’s a kindness considering if he breaks too quick, it might also drive him insane. Lowering him into the insanity is a lot more humane. More than I was ever shown.” Sorrow glared, returning her eyes to her book.

William shook his head but didn’t respond, he only hope she was strong enough to go through with it without backing down.

“How long do you think he can hold out? Jude only lasted a few months.” William reminded, her eyes stopping at the bookmarked page she had left off.

“By the New Year he should be ready to be sold and retrained. I know no more than that.” She shrugged, relaxing against the couch and absorbing herself into the pages of the story, leaving reality behind for awhile.

Notes

Great stuff coming up, enjoy!