Stockholm Syndrome - A Harry Styles Fic

Harry hung weakly against the ropes that attached him to the tree. He was looking down at the ground, his tears long dried. All that could be felt now was depression, and soreness radiating from his jaw. If he was forced to wear the gag much longer he felt as though when it was finally taken off that he’d never be able to close his mouth again.

His biggest problem was the belt, it restricted his breathing and with the temperature dropping and the majority of his skin exposed to the frigid air, Harry knew that it would require more oxygen than what he was taking in to keep his blood flowing normally. He knew that before morning he would succumb to hypothermia and with any bit of luck-as much as he hated thinking it, it was a better alternative to being held prisoner any longer.

It still surprised Harry how easily he accepted his fate and wondered briefly if he had already come to terms with it long before. It scared him but there was nothing he could do.

It took effort but he managed to bring his eyes up to the sky to meet the sunset-the very last one that he would ever see.

It was beautiful. Not many people look up to the sky and take the time to watch it go down, casting the most beautiful Amber glow across the clouds that he had ever seen.

I wish Sorrow could see this and the guys, they should- His thoughts turned dark and the familiar ache in his chest returned. He moaned and tugged weakly at his trapped wrists, letting his head drop again, almost painfully aware that they were with him in spirit now.

I’m sorry I failed guys, I’m so sorry. This is all my fault-if I had just-just not gone out that day, this wouldn’t have happened. Harry thought miserably.

I was well past sunset when the temperature finally dropped below freezing. If Harry’s teeth could chatter they would have. Instead all he could do was shiver and try to breath, which proved to be impossible.

It was at that point he heard footsteps-three sets.

“He’s been out here for a good…I’d say twelve hours, maybe thirteen. The temperature just dropped below freezing but with the tarp around him-“Jason was saying but stopped when he saw Harry. “Chris? Where’s the tarp?”

The stranger, whoever Jason had been talking to, remained silent.

“I didn’t put it on him, it’s not my responsibility to see to his survival, it is Sorrow’s and as you can see, she’s nearly dead.” Christian replied mockingly, receiving a slap across the head.

“You dumbass, he’d of froze to death and I have plans for him still! You’re always ruining something Chris.” Jason glowered, which caused the stranger to speak up.

“Sir? If I may make a suggestion?” The stranger questioned respectfully, coming to stand in front of Harry, picking his head up so he was looking him in the eye.

“Yeah Angel, what is it?” Jason sighed tiredly, pushing Christian away in anger and ordering him back to the cabin.

“Do you have a place you keep him? He needs to be inside-especially not wearing anything but pants and he’s not getting much oxygen with that belt being so tight-his skin is severely bruising around his waist because it’s been put on way too restrictively and the same goes for his gag. His cheeks are-“ Angel explained but was cut off halfway through.

“Too bad, they are staying on. He’s being punished and they will not be removed until however long I want them to. He has nothing productive to say, nothing purposeful to do he’s useless, like my son.” Jason growled, watching the young doctor take his pocket light out and swing it in front of Harry’s eyes. They contracted only slightly.

“I’m not saying remove them by any means but if I’m going to do the transfusion, he is going to need to take in adequate amounts of fluids and food so he doesn’t get sick. I am suggesting however, at least for the next few days to loosen them-may I have your permission to do that? Because if not, put a bullet in him right now and put him out of his misery.”

Jason growled and gave Angel the go ahead.

“Very well, help him inside. I’ll go get the keys, and give them to you for use at your disposal.” Jason agreed and walked away.

Angel sighed and untied Harry from the tree, balancing him before he could hit the ground.

“Can you walk?” Angel asked with concern.

Harry could barely hold himself up let alone walk but he took a halfhearted step forward before collapsing to his knees.

He had no strength to make it to the cabin, he was too weak. The walk early that morning had taken its toll and all he wanted to do was lay on the ground and sleep.

“Are you ok?”

Harry simply let out a muffled sob and shook his head, panicking when he couldn’t take in enough air that he lost hitting the ground.

“Ok, let me get some help. Keep calm and just try to breathe.” Angel told him before rushing away.

It had to have been at least five minutes before he came back, this time bringing Christian with him who looked more somber than anything.

“Take his upper shoulders, I’ll grab his legs. On three we life, get him to the basement-but I still say putting him in that cage is a bit of overkill considering the poor guy can’t even move.” Angel said, rolling his eyes.

“Well, it’s a good thing you don’t have a say, huh? Your job is to care for them, get my girlfriend better and to keep your opinions to yourself.” Christian warned, pushing Harry onto his back, subsequently making him put pressure on his cuffed wrists.

Harry screamed out in pain but it was thankfully for only a few seconds as they lifted the singer and helped bring him into the door of the cabin, down the hall and toward the basement.

The moment they got inside Harry felt his body heat start to return, the room was comfortable but as they got out to the basement it dropped back to a dull cold, not as bad as outside but still unpleasant. He wished now more than ever they would just move him back inside and tie him up to a chair. He was already uncomfortable due to the restraints already opposed on him that being tied onto a chair in addition didn’t seem to make much of a difference.

Harry’s vision suddenly met the inside of iron bars, his fear heightening as he struggled to sit up, which in turn made Christian lose his balance and drop him to the ground.

The cage they had been talking about was perfectly shaped to the wall, ten feet in height and ten feet across, which could effectively hold two to three people sitting up but only one or two lying down.

The cage itself had been welded and anchored into permanent fixtures in the wall, it wouldn’t budge and with it being iron bars from ceiling to wall, Harry had no doubt in his mind that they saw fit to make sure escape wasn’t sought again. Not that he had anywhere to go or anyone who was still looking for him.

That made the thought more sobering and he took to just curling up into a ball on the floor. Unfortunately Christian wasn’t done and he dragged the singer back to his usual spot by the wall where the shackle lay. He also noticed his radio had been left there, William’s hand game by it but the burlap sack was new and that’s where Harry was dropped.

“Your new bed, enjoy.” Christian muttered, bending down onto his knee and picking the shackle up, locking it back onto his ankle and smiling.

“You’re never getting out of here, you know that right? You will die in here if I have anything to say about it. Looking out through bars, held down by chains and gagged. The only conversations you’ll be having is with yourself. There are worse things than death, Harry. Remember that-because I can promise you, it’s going to be a brutal reminder otherwise.”

With that Christian handed Angel the spare keys to the singer’s belt and gag before leaving through the basement door, slamming it shut.

Angel waited until Christian was gone before speaking again, although a little bit unnerved.

“He sure is an intense one isn’t he?”

Harry still had tear streaks down his face but he wasn’t crying. It didn’t do any good to cry anymore, it wouldn’t change anything. He would still feel the same sadness, mourn the same-everything would be just like it was.

“Let’s get that belt loosened and then I’ll remove your gag for a bit, I need to ask you some questions, sound good?” Angel asked, which didn’t provoke a response.

He shrugged and pinched the belt, noticing it not only had no slack but it was tightened so hard against his waist that when he finally did unbuckle it, he found not only a deep black bruise going all the way around him but blood had begun to seep from the deep lacerations it made, the blood only stopped because the belt had been done so tight.

“Jesus on toast, what the hell did you do to piss these men off so bad, dearie? Sleep with their women? Steal the last of their cereal? No offense but you don’t look like you’re capable of doing much to start.” Angel went on, unlocking the singer’s gag and unstrapping it, gently untangling the mouth guard from his teeth and setting it on the ground.

Harry cried out as the ache in his jaw pulsated into severe pain.

“Here, I got something that will help.” Angel told him, standing to go and get his black bag before going back and sitting on the floor in front of Harry, uncapping a syringe as he did so.

The singer didn’t object so Angel injected it into his arm.

“Muscle relaxant and this-“He held up another syringe. “Is high concentrated morphine. Fun for staring at walls for hours on end-which seems to be about all you can do right now anyhow so-“Angel trailed off while giving him the second injection.

Harry just looked at the boy with the Hazelwood eyes. He was younger than himself-nineteen, maybe twenty. Harry wondered what his story was. He seemed too young, too nice to be mixed up with these sort of people.

Almost as if guessing what the musician was thinking he obliged him in conversation once more.

“This isn’t my usual gig. I usually end up treating the members, not the prisoners. You’re my first, so, I suppose you lucked out.” Angel shrugged, taking some alcohol and cleaning the cuts.

Harry felt his jaw loosening and slowly worked at closing his mouth.

“I’m going to loosen those cuffs too, your hands are bright red-bluish even, then I’ll have to put the belt on but don’t worry, you’ll be able to breathe.” Angel promised, humming a lighthearted tune as he worked.

When he was done, Harry’s cuffs had been loosened some and the belt fit to where Harry couldn’t slip out of it but at the same time would be able to take in proper amounts of oxygen.

“Any better?” Angel asked, locking the padlock into the belt and testing the security.

Harry felt relief wash over him, sucking in a lung full of oxygen.

“Y-yes.” Harry choked, his voice gravelly from not having any water since the morning before.

Angel smiled.

“Good, let’s get you some water and then I’ll need to ask you a few questions before I fit you with an IV. I’ll need to do so before I can do the transfusion so as I take blood, I can replenish it with liquids and it’s apparent you won’t be getting any of that from those assholes.”

Harry smiled, a feeling of euphoria working its way through him. He knew the last thing he needed to be doing was smiling but somehow he couldn’t pull himself together enough to care.

Angel took a bottle of water from his bag and opened it, putting it to the singer’s mouth and letting it wash down his throat, hydrating it before pulling it away.

“Ok, let me get this IV set up and we can get started, alright?”

Harry nodded, closing his eyes.

“Is Sorrow going to be ok?”

The doctor was quiet for a moment, wondering that himself.

“If your blood takes, yes. If not then-well, it’s not for me to say dearie.” Angel replied carefully, setting to work on the IV and finding a suitable vein for it to go into.

“I hope she is but at the same time-I don’t know, I don’t want to be alone but I don’t want her to be either.” Harry said, struggling to make sense as his mind seemed to be shutting down.

Angel found one on his arm and took the arm band, placing it tight before threading the IV tube through to the vein and taping it to the singer before hooking up two bags full of liquid and another two bags, which were empty, hooked to another tube, one of which was already filling with blood.

“I’m going to take a liter of blood, run one of the IV bags to replenish what I took and then take another liter. I will need to repeat the process a few times within the next few days. You’re going to be very weak, weaker than you are right now, understand?” Angel explained, taking a pen out and flashing it in Harry’s eyes, seeing them dilate – yep, he was flying high.

“Whatever you say Hazelwood.” Harry replied, not really listening but not really caring either.

“Hazelwood? The name’s Angel.” He corrected, a little taken aback.

“Nah, its Hazelwood, trust me, I know these things.” Harry chuckled.

“What made you draw that conclusion?” Angel asked, his eyebrow cocked up but highly amused at the same time.

“Your eyes. Not quite hazel, not quite brown. Hazel from the light tint in them and wood because they’re a deep dark underneath.” Harry replied, shifting so his head was against the wall but he opened his eyes to stare at the young doctor.

“Good enology, whatever makes you happy.” Angel smiled although frowned at the same time knowing that probably wasn’t the best choice of words.

Harry didn’t seem to notice, or if he did, he didn’t let on.

“Harry I need to ask you a few questions, then I’ll need to put the gag back in-as much as I hate doing it but, Jason made it quite clear that he would castrate me with a bullet if I did anything else but what was required for Sorrow’s care. I hope you understand?”

Harry did a half sobering shrug.

“What does it matter? Ask away.”

“Ok, you don’t have any sexual diseases, inherited diseases, infections or things such as diabetes or hepatitis?” Angel questioned, ticking them off the list.

“No, I haven’t been around anyone with them, haven’t caught them-don’t have them. I’m clean.” Harry replied.

“Ok, great. How about Smoking, drinking, drugs?” Angel once again asked, seeing Harry smirk, knowing he was about to get either a really honest answer or a really out there answer.

“I’m a rock star, and I’m English-what do you think?”

Angel tried to keep a straight face. He had to get this blood to Sorrow and Harry seemed to not be completely with it but not completely out of it either. In other words, someone was home but too drunk to answer the door.

“I think answering the question would really help Sorrow out.” Angel replied with a small smile.

“No, no drugs, no drinking, no smoking-something I’ll be rectifying as soon as I get out of here, if I ever get out.” Harry replied, shifting to get comfortable as he felt the blood being drained out of him, the feeling making him lightheaded.

“I’d offer you a cigarette but-it wouldn’t be good to start you on bad habits.” Angel replied before asking one final question. “Ok, last one, have you been exposed to anything hazardous or dangerous, such as radiation?”

“Jason and Christian, they’re pretty poisonous I’d say. Wouldn’t you?” Harry chuckled, which made Angel laugh a little. He liked Harry, even if he was drug induced.

Although he sobered a few seconds later and proceeded to pick up the gag, hearing the footsteps from outside the door. Angel had a talent for hearing low frequencies, which came into handy in case someone tried to sneak up on him.

“Sorry Harry but they’re coming.” Angel quickly apologized, positioning Harry’s upper and lower teeth into the mouth guard, straightening the platelet on his face that the mouth guard was molded to and repositioned the straps to the back of his head so it was loose against his face but still did what it was supposed to do. The padlock was then locked again.

In a split second decision Angel also turned the radio on, making it look like he had been listening to it while he worked, which apparently did the trick as Christian and Jason said nothing.

“First bag almost filled, one more to go tonight and then I’ll take two more over the course of a few days. I think that should be enough for her.” Angel said, smiling pleasantly.

“What about the baby?” Christian demanded as his father gave him a shove and a hard look.

“The baby’s heartbeat is faint, I’m not sure but your father already told me it was to be aborted. Something that will have to be done after she heals. Depending on the time frame from when she regains consciousness, no more than two to three weeks.” Angel explained seeing Christian’s eyes flash red.

“Oh boy…” Angel murmured, watching as Christian took his gun out but with Jason anticipated his son’s reaction he easily was able to grab Christian’s hand, snapping his wrist with a sickening crunch and take the weapon from him.

Christian cried out in agony, holding his wrist to his chest.

“Fix him when you’re done with that one.” Jason commanded calmly, hightailing it from the room to leave his son in pain, the doctor confused and Harry…well, if Harry could have smiled, he would have.

“People need to start using their words around here.” Angel muttered but helped Christian to the other side of the cage and sat him down, beginning the process of wrapping his wrist while waiting for the first fluid bag to drain and another blood bag to fill, he only hopped it wouldn’t be too much.

Notes