Reverse Stockholm Syndrome

Treehouses are nice.

Maybe hiding out in a treehouse wasn't so bad.

Nick was sitting on the wooden floor of a treehouse, it wasn't very big, nor was it very small. It was just... fine?

If you count siting with a close to being insane friend in a dark room, windows sealed shut and the door barricades up,  fine then yeah, it was fine.

Nick was a wanted criminal for several reasons, but the list would be too long to name it all down so I wouldn't say the reasons.

Everyone was out to get him and the only person he could trust was Ice. They've had their fair share of arguments about who was the edgier one, but they still worked together to stay alive.

So, where was I? Oh yes, Nick was in a treehouse. He stole it from a little boy, whom he had thrown out the window when he saw the boy in the treehouse, and decided to camp there for the night.

He was sure the boy's parents would realize something was up and check on him, then realize that the boy is (probably) dead and the infamous Nick was in his treehouse.

But for now, he would sit in the treehouse with Ice leaning on the wall and pouring imaginary tea into an imaginary teacup to disturb Nick.

Nick likes tea. Shut up.

"So...," Ice said, finally stopping her stupid charade, "when are we leaving?"

"When it's dark or something?" Nick replied, shrugging to show that he wasn't sure.

"Great. Yeah, this is fine. I totally like sitting in a 5 year old—"

"He looked 10, Ice."

"Shut up." She shot Nick an irritated look before continuing. "5 year old's broken treehouse."

"It's not that bad..." Nick mumbled, patting the ground, resulting in that part of the ground to break and fall to the grassy floor. "...Um, it's better than the others."

Ice rolled her eyes and lied back down on the floor, then jerked back up in disgust when she realized the floor was wet. Nick laughed and Ice threw a stick at him.

Just before Nick could get his revenge for Ice throwing a stick at him, he heard a women called out. "Alexander? Lunch's ready!"

"Shit." Nick and Ice said in unison, they both scrambled to the nearest barricaded window and started tearing the wood off.

"Alexander? I'm coming over to the backyard!" The voice was louder this time, she was getting close.

"Tear faster you bloody idiot!" Nick tore off one of wooden planks.

Ice tore one more off, "I am going as fast as I can you British ass!"

"I'm offended!"

"Shut the hell up!"

They heard screaming. The mother had reached the backyard to see her son sprawled on the ground, unconscious and bleeding. Probably close to death.

"Fu-" Ice tore off the last wooden plank and jumped out the window, followed by Nick.

They both landed on a branch, then they jumped off the branch and landed in next door neighbor's backyard, more screaming along with crying could be heard. Someone else was now coming out of the house.

The duo jumped over the fence of the neighbor's house and ran down the street, hoodies up and a black mask to cover their mouth, they reached the nearest sewer entrance and pulled it open.

Gun shots in the distance. Somebody's mad.

Nick slid down the ladder, Ice climbing down after him, closing the sewer entrance. They both landed in the dim lit sewer, the stench immediately hitting them.

"This place smells." Ice held her nose as she kept running, slowing down a little.

"Like you." Nick joked, earning himself a punch in the face. "Ow."

"Welp, what now brit-boy?" Ice huffed, stopping fully. Nick scratched the back of his head and sighed.

"I guess we can get straight to executing the plan."

Ice smiled, "That's what I wanted to hear! Let's go!"

"Wait. Tired. Stop. Sleep." Nick sat onto the ground, finally getting the wave of exhaustion.

"Fine." Ice sat down, a few feet away from Nick. She kept first watch, in case somebody found them.

Tomorrow, they'd start their plan. Their plan to kidnap and hold ransom of the richest kid in the neighborhood.

Nar.

•••

OOOOOF. Sorry.