Stockholm Syndrome - A Harry Styles Fic

By mid-day everything had seemed to return to normal. Sorrow was her normal self, William was more or less relieved and Harry was trying to occupy his time by reading the book Sorrow had discarded earlier.

When he got to a certain spot in the story he recognized the name Jude – the lead male character in Black Ice. It was almost like a quick flashback of Sorrow mentioning her friend Jude.

“Imaginary?” Harry asked aloud without thinking, catching William’s attention who was watching another movie, it was one Harry didn’t care for so he took to reading.

“Imaginary what?” William responded with the same question of his own.

“This character, Jude Van Sant-“Harry began but was interrupted.

“I read it already, mediocre writing at best. I was able to guess the killer within two chapters. She got detail and dialogue working in her favor but no originality. Needed more flavor to it then what was delivered.”

“I find it pretty interesting.” Harry shrugged, his eyes going back to the page he was reading.

“It’s a book, I think Sorrow only reads it because of the name Jude. Helps her feel closer, that’s my take on it at least.” William mimicked Harry’s indifference with a shrug of his own.

“Is that your professional opinion Doctor Phil?” Sorrow asked sarcastically, coming in with two plates of food.

She set them on the coffee table carefully, going back into the kitchen and grabbing hers. When she came back out, she took her spot on the other side of Harry and picked her fork up, taking a bite of red sauce pasta shells, with mozzarella cheese melted into the shells with pieces of sausage thrown throughout.

Harry reached for his wordlessly, deciding to give the book a rest and focus on the uninteresting movie, digging his fork around in his food for a moment, setting it down on the table again.

“Can we see if there’s anything news breaking? I heard they’ll do that if the news is developing on a story.” Harry asked, the worry in his tone evident.

“Sure but we won’t know anything until eleven when they come back on.” William reassured, clicking the DVD off and back onto the one station.

William had been wrong, the report seemed to come from England, he turned it up to see what was going on.

This is Nancy Stevenson, reporting to you live from London England. Boy band singer Niall Horan was arrested late yesterday evening in the brutal murder of Alan Upsweet and three bar waitresses, while mortally wounding federal agent Jack Broadway who remains in critical condition. In the events following Horan’s arrest and Broadway’s shooting, British boy band One Direction have called off the search for Harry Styles, who was kidnapped over a month ago before the boy band’s final concert in Billings Montana. The decision to call off the search was not an easy decision according to close sources of the boys but in light of Niall’s arrest and Harry’s disappearance they felt it was best to let things settle before picking up the search, no date or further plans have been made but the band remains hopeful that Harry will be found. We’re waiting for their plane to come in to get more details into this story, which according to other news media sources should be within the next few hours. More on this report as it unfolds, back to you in the studio Jaron.

The hope in Harry deflated like a rubber ring having the air pushed out of it. The very belief that held in his eyes just seconds before shattered from them in a million pieces.

“They-they…Niall…they just left? I-but…” Harry stuttered, gesturing to the TV weakly in stunned silence.

Sorrow watched him for a moment with guarded eyes, it was the reaction she had expected and part of her felt guilty but she still had her own agenda-with any hope this report would tear into him, making her job to keep him whole easier until the very last second when she would finally watch Harry shatter. She did not want to see him fall apart before she was ready.

Her personality seemed to switch from agenda to an off thought. In seeing his reaction something tugged at her stone heart, watching tears slip down his face in beautiful droplets. She reached over and gently dried them from his cheeks, wordlessly reaching over to hug him, his bare chest vibrating against hers.

“Take me back to the basement.” Harry pleaded, gently pushing Sorrow away and standing up from the couch.

William wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and stood to comply with the singer’s request but Sorrow beat him to it.

“Sit and finish eating Will, I’ll get Harry back to his room.” She told him, smiling softly.

William nodded and sat back down.

Harry put his arm around her shoulders and limped along back down the hall, through the kitchen and approaching the door to his prison. His eyes were still watering and his chest heaved but he managed to keep himself together until he was in the familiar corner of the dimly lit basement.

Sorrow knelt down onto her knees and took the shackle that had been left on the floor and looked at Harry silently.

He brought his foot in reach of the anklet and let her lock the restraint onto his foot, bringing his limb back and curling into a ball, his head settling onto his knees, finally losing the battle.

Harry cried for all he was worth, reaching into his pant pocket and taking out the cross Sorrow had returned earlier and threw it across the basement with all the strength he could muster before jerking his head upward, slamming it against the wall and screaming to the Heavens in an anguish that shocked even Sorrow.

“Hey now, enough of that.” Sorrow soothed gently, reaching out to comfort the singer.

Harry shook his head, rejecting her touch and instead covered his eyes with his hands.

Sorrow tried one last time, trying to soothe Harry. Instead of reaching for him though, she took the bobby pin that was on the ground and grabbed one of the singer’s hands away from his face, placing the small piece of metal into his palm.

“By the grace of God, right?” Sorrow repeated from earlier, watching his hand drop to his lap.

“Please leave-please just…I need to be alone.” Another sob escaped his throat, cutting off his words.

“I think that’s the last thing you need.” Sorrow replied, standing from the ground and fetching the cross he threw. “Could be a trap to throw the organization off, whole thing could be a setup. I don’t think they’re going to stop searching. You’re worth far too much.”

Harry didn’t respond to Sorrow’s encouraging suggestion, he was too far gone in his depression at the possibility that it might be true – that the world was giving up finding him.

“If someone’s not found in seventy-two hours, they normally don’t come back. I’ve been gone over a month. You have your agenda, Christian has his…I’m a pawn in a game that I can’t possibly hope to win. I don’t have any cards and I can’t keep pretending to bluff – the stakes are getting too high. Niall’s in jail for MURDER, the other guys have gone back to England and they called off search. I was a fool, I was-“Harry was cut off by Sorrow’s gentle hand grasping his and pushing it gently away from his tear soaked face, his voice wavering unsteadily as another bout of tears threatened to start up again.

“It’s alright to cry but don’t cry over something you don’t know for sure. I need you to hold it together, for right now at least.” Sorrow calmed, taking her thumb and wiping under one of his eyes. “You have faith where there is none. Like you said, God hasn’t forgotten about you.”

“I’m not so sure about that now.” Harry replied dully, frowning when Sorrow put his necklace back in his other hand.

“Well, there’s only way to find out.” Sorrow shrugged standing back up and walking toward the door.

“You’re leaving?” Harry asked, not sure if he could handle being alone now. Her company was less than desirable but he was growing use to her constantly being around.

“For a moment, I’m going to get our plates before they get soggy.”

Harry watched her go, wiping the tears from his eyes trying to get a hold of himself, glancing at the bobby pin still in his other hand.

“How do you pick a lock?” He asked himself softly, placing it beside him and looking at the shackle attached to his ankle.

Sorrow came back in with their plates, handing Harry his and taking a seat next to him to continue to eat hers.

Harry’s appetite was nonexistent but he knew, given the weight he lost, that refusing anymore food would only hurt him.

“Thank you.” Harry nodded, picking his fork up to eat in silence.

“No problem.” Sorrow replied, letting the silence surround them comfortably.

It was probably an hour later Sorrow left Harry to his own devices, promising to get him before the eleven o’clock news started. Before she left however, he held up the small pin that she originally gave him.

“Show me once, just once.” Harry asked, seeing her eyes glint against the dim light before smiling and coming to sit back down next to him again.

“Alright, one time.” She agreed, opening half of the pin and sticking it into the lock. “You want to tease the lock like you would a girl with a tender kiss, it’s the same concept. The end of the pin is your lips, you’re trying to get your tongue into her mouth. You force it in you get cock blocked and nothing else happens but if you kiss around her mouth in slow circled motions, pecking at it slow –you never know what might happen. The lock is the same way, you simply move it with gentleness and-“She smiled when the shackle popped open.

Harry watched Sorrow’s hands and the way they moved, her voice sultry and the way she explained the procedure in another way entirely was distracting but strangely effective.

He looked up to her blue eyes again, they sparkled in mischief and hide behind a façade of innocence. Harry knew she was anything but.

“Thanks.” He responded, his mouth dry.

She patted his bare chest, which seemed to be her favorite place to touch.

“I’ll come get you before the eleven o’clock news and dinner will be ready at around ten o’clock, try to get some sleep. I’ll wake you up beforehand.” Sorrow promised, leaving him unshackled.

When she left, Harry was left to his own thoughts and that put him back into a somber mood. With nothing else to occupy his mind, he settled back into his depression, throwing the cross away from him again in anger.

Notes