Stockholm Syndrome

Uncle Simon

I sat in Detective Watson's office, my fingers tapping nervously against my thighs, the man in front of me held several papers in his hand, his eyes scanning over the pages with his lips pursed in a frown.

The small office was silent, except for the constant ticking of the black clock hanging on the wall to my left. Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock. The clock had already counted half an hour since I'd arrived at the police station this morning. Detective Watson had only spoken a few words to me, he'd asked if I was ready to pick up where we'd left off the other day, before I'd gotten sick. He said that he was ready to discuss anything that I wanted to talk about, and that I shouldn't feel pressured to rush anything. I'd nodded my head in understanding and we'd sat here in silence ever since.

It wasn't that I didn't want to tell him what Max and Tom had done. I honestly wanted to blurt it all out and get it off my chest. I just didn't know where to start, or how to start. How did I mention that John had shot and killed Dr. Hanks right in front of me? How did I bring up the fact that I had taken his car? How did I bring up the fact that I had taken the gun that John had used as the murder weapon? How did I explain all the blood on my clothes back at the safe-house? For all the police knew John and I could have been working together- or maybe I had committed the crime myself. I had in a way. If I'd stayed with Max no one would have gotten killed. Max had been physically abusive to me at first, but after a while I'd gotten use to his mood swings and he'd gotten use to my stubbornness. We'd come to a sort of mutual understanding that it didn't benefit either of us if I was covered in bruises. That's when Dr. Hanks had told me that I might be experiencing Stockholm syndrome. Was having Stockholm syndrome something I had to tell the police? I also had to bring up that Tom had kidnapped Louis... The more I thought about it the more it made my head spin. Where on earth did I start?

I let out a shaky sigh as I closed my eyes and tried to relax. Detective Watson had made it clear that he would be as patient as he needed to be to get my statement, but I could tell by the frown lines engraved on his face and the set of his jaw that he was having a hard time not questioning me.

I opened my mouth, about to ask how one usually went about talking about this stuff, when there was a loud knock on the door.

"Detective Watson?" A female voice called from the other side of the wooden door. "Sorry to interrupt, but you have a man waiting for you in the front lobby."

Watson sighed as he set the papers he'd reading down the desk. His eyes made contact with mine and he smiled apologetically as he stood from his chair. "Is it alright if I excuse myself for a few moments?"

"Yeah, that's fine," I told him as I tried to give small smile in return.

"You sure?" He asked me again as he grasped the door knob with one hand and opened the door slightly. I didn't blame him for wanting to get out of the office. I hadn't said a word in almost an hour now, I'd been lost in my own thoughts. I was finally getting an idea of what I was going to say... but it could wait for a few minutes.

"No, really it's fine. I'm still figuring out where to start with things," I explained as I adjusted my position in my chair.

Watson nodded as opened the door fully, stepped out, and let if shut behind him.

I sighed as I rubbed my temples. I knew that I couldn't afford to waste any more precious time get worrying about where to start, but I also was terrified of the reaction I'd receive once I told Watson everything. I wanted Louis to get away from Tom and I wanted things to go back to the way they were before we'd been kidnapped.

Time seemed to pass even slower, if that was even possible, after Watson had left. There wasn't anything for me to preoccupy myself with. After a while I decided that I'd stretch my legs and get a cup of coffee from the break room. Luckily for me, Officer Sherman had shown me around the station this morning before my meeting with Detective Watson. He'd insisted that we eat breakfast here at the station instead of the house, swearing that the station had the best doughnuts in the whole world. He wasn't wrong either. I don't think I've ever had a jelly-filled doughnut that had tasted so good.

I quietly slipped out of Detective Watson's office and made my way down the wide hallway toward the back of the station. The break room was easy to locate, it was the last door on the right before you got to a staircase. The delicious aroma of coffee hit me before I even stepped into the room. Officer Rhodes had informed me that they always had at least five pots brewed at time- apparently police officers depended on caffeine and sugar to keep them moving throughout their ever changing schedules.

I grabbed a clean cup from the counter and poured myself a steaming mug. I grabbed two sugar packets and stirred them into the dark liquid. I blew lightly over the rim of the mug as I held it to my lips, taking a small sip. It tasted amazing.

"Oh hey Niall," Officer Rhodes greeted as she entered the break room.

"Hey," I murmured through sips of my coffee.

"How are you feeling?" She asked, her eyebrows knitted in concern as she smiled sympathetically. I immediately knew she was talking about the other night at the safe-house.

I shrugged as I took another sip of my drink. I really didn't feel like explaining to her that I saw blood on my hands or that Dr. Hanks death haunted my dreams. I felt both guilty and ashamed.

"If you wanted to talk about it... you know that I'm here for you right?" She smiled gently as she poured herself a cup of coffee.

"Yeah, I know..."

"And you know that we only want what's best for you? I know that you've got a lot going on, and that things seem to be moving at about a million miles an hour in your head, but just breathe. I promise that everything will work out."

"How can you promise that everything will work out?" I questioned as my eyes narrowed. "Every time someone says that things will work out, or that things will get better, something even worse happens!"

She sighed and shook her head, a sad smile painted on her lips. "Maybe it seems that way Niall, but not from on out. I'm not supposed to tell you this... but I think it might cheer you up."

I glanced at her curiosity as I waited for her to continue.

"Detective Watson was able to reach your management the other day, he made a few phone calls, and today Simon Cowell and the rest of your band are scheduled to arrive here in LA. When Detective Watson stepped out of his meeting with you, it was to confirm with one of your reps that they'd be arriving here shortly."

I could only stare at her in shock. My mouth open, my eyes wide, and my coffee mug hit the floor.

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IndieChick95