Stockholm Syndrome

Dependent

Niall's POV

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"Does this hurt?" Dr. Hanks asked as he applied slight pressure to the outside of knee.

It felt uncomfortable due to my knee being swollen, but it didn't hurt. I shook my slighty as I answered. "No."

"And here?" He asked as his fingers pressed against the bottom of my knee, his fingers sinking deep into the swollen tissue. Watching his finger tip disappear into the inflamed joint made my stomach churn nervously. I was always a bit squeamish about things like this, especially when it had to do with my knee.

"No, but I don't think that your finger is supposed to disappear into my knee like that," I laughed nervously. I really was quite uneasy, and it didn't help that Max was standing right beside me with this serious expression on his face.

"Well, as far as I can tell, everything is just swollen at the moment," Dr. Hanks explained with a warm smile as he kept palpating my knee, searching for the site of the injury.

"Ah...yeah, I mean..." I stuttered as I glanced at Max and then back at the doctor. His trained eyes followed mine and another smile formed on his round face.

"Max, may I talk to you for a moment?" He asked as he stood. He walked toward the kitchen door and waited there expectantly for Max to follow.

"Of course," Max grunted as he followed. He looked over his shoulder as he trailed behind the doctor and his dark brown eyes met mine. They held my gaze briefly before he turned and shut the door behind them. He looked somewhat concerned, but I could hardly be sure. Today he was concerned about me, but a few days ago he'd beat the crap out of me. It was confusing. I wished that he would make up his mind and decide whether he hated me or not.

Several minutes had passed and still Max and Dr. Hanks hadn't returned. I let out a sigh of frustration as my eyes went to the door, expecting the brass doorknob to turn any second. I was disappointed after almost fifteen minutes of waiting. It felt like a regular doctor's office now, not Max's huge kitchen. I smiled slightly at the thought.

After Max had pulled into the driveway he'd picked me up and dropped me off on the kitchen counter. It was the closest thing to an examination table that he had, and I could keep my knee straight and avoid the shockwaves of pain that hit me whenever I bent it. The doctor, Dr. Hanks, arrived shortly after we had. He was a tall man in his late forties with a receding hairline and a friendly personality. He was also easy to talk to, but I found it hard to open up to him with Max watching everything I said or did. I answered his questions as briefly as possible and didn't say anything that I thought Max might not approve of.

After another few minutes passed, and I wondered what Dr. Hanks needed to speak to Max about. It was taking a rather long time. I was tempted to eavesdrop, but considering that I was seated on kitchen counter and couldn't walk I scraped that idea. I instead closed my eyes and laid my head back on the cool marble countertop. I was both physically and mentally exhausted, so I figured a quick nap wouldn't hurt.

I could feel myself just beginning to drift off when I heard heavy footsteps approaching. Yawning I opened my eyes regretfully as I sat up and ran a hand through my hair in attempt to make it look somewhat presentable again.

To my surprise, only Dr. Hanks walked back into the kitchen, and he closed the door behind him. My eyes widened with curiosity as I waited for an explanation.

"I'm sorry that took much longer than expected," he chuckled as he walked towards me, an apologetic smile on his face.

"Um, yeah," I said returning his smile. I wasn't really sure what had taken place, but whatever had happened resulted in Max giving me some space.

"As you can see, Max isn't with me. To me, it seemed that his being here made you more uncomfortable, am I correct?" He asked, looking at me with a slight smile on his face.

"Yeah, it just makes me nervous with him hovering all the time," I tried to explain.

"Mmm-hmmm, I gathered as much. That's why I told him that it would be best if we discussed your medical condition in private. I thought that you might feel more comfortable this way," Dr. Hanks said as he pulled a wooden stool over to the counter. "Now, let's find out what's causing you all this trouble. Can you tell me how you injured you knee?"

"Well I was running... and all of the sudden it just gave out on me," I said truthfully as I watched him examine my knee.

"Did you make any quick sharp turns?" He asked as he began to press his fingers against my knee gently.

"I think I may have made- ah!" I yelped as his thumb brushed a particularly tender area.

"That hurts?" He asked as he moved his hand a little lower on the inside of me knee, still applying light pressure. "What about here?"

"Yes!" I hissed as he withdrew his hand.

"I have some good news and some bad news for you," Dr. Hanks said as he handed me an ice pack.

"What? I don't need surgery do I?" I whimpered slightly as I put the ice pack on my knee. I started to feel sick again. I didn't know what bad news he had for me, but my mind jumped to my biggest fear. Surgery. That I had screwed up my knee so bad that surgery was the only way to fix it.

"No you don't need surgery," he chuckled as he ruffled my hair affectionately. That gesture was reserved for close friends and family members, but I made an acceptation because I was so relieved.

"So what's the bad news?" I asked curiously.

"The bad news is that you sprained your medial collateral ligament, your MCL for short, and that it's a grade 2 sprain."

"Right... so what's that mean? I'll be able to walk on it soon right?" I asked as I looked down at me knee and then back up to him.

"What it means is that you'll need to rest it until the swelling goes down. You might need use crutches until you're able to bear your full weight on that leg. You'll ice it every few hours for 15min and wear a compression wrap for a week. I'll schedule another appointment for you with Max so that we can take it from there," he explained as he removed the ice pack from my knee and began to use a compression wrap to support my knee. I winced slightly as he wrapped over the tender spots, but the ice had helped to numb most of the pain.

"So how long should it take for me to walk?" I asked again anxiously once my knee was all wrapped.

"Like I said Niall, it will depend on how soon you're able to bear weight on it without pain. I would stay off of it for two or three days and then see from there. You should be able to walk on it by the end of this week, but you may need to wear a more supportive brace."

"Well that's good, so it won't take too long." I said to myself more than to Dr. Hanks. It was good news that it wouldn't take me long to recover, or at least it shouldn't. I didn't want to have to rely on Max more than I had to. As much as I hated to admit it, I needed Max to help me through this until I could walk on my own. He could have John get me a pair of crutches, but I couldn't stay in my room upstairs. I'd need to ask Max to make alternative arrangements for me. For the next week or so I'd be completely dependent on Max to help me. Great.

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I hope you guys enjoy this update! My classes have me slammed with homework, but I found some time to squeeze this is. I'll try to update on Tuesdays or Thursdays, but it honestly will depend on my homework.

QUESTION OF THE DAY: What are your opinions on the Drag Me Down music video? ((Now we know how Louis got his apricot! ;3 ))

I wrote this chapter from personal experience, and let me tell you mcl injuries suck! I'm still dealing with a weak mcl from a year ago- and I just strained it again recently.

I know this might seem a bit boring, and it's a little bit of a filler, but it shows the progression of Max's and Niall's relationship and that's important.

As always, all the love!

xoxo,

IndieChick95