Stockholm Syndrome

Crime and Punishment

Louis' POV (this takes place while Niall and Max are at the zoo)

"I swear I didn't know anything! I stammered for about the millionth time today, blood dripping from the corners of my mouth as my voice cracked in desperation.

"We know you're lying..." the cold and unamused voice of the man before me stated bluntly. He folded his arms against his muscled chest, the metal chair he sat in scraping against the rough concrete as sifted his weight, causing the hairs on the back of my neck to rise and then shiver involuntarily.

"I really don't know anything!" I coughed, spittle stained red splattered my already dirty shirt and the table in front of me as I spoke. The man's facial features twisted in disgust at the sight. I would have normally cracked a joke or made light of my situation as the snobby man was wearing a fancy suit and I looked like a homeless beggar, but this was no laughing matter. I was scared... scared for my life.

"You had talked with the boy just before the incident, you two were conspiring," the man said as his eyes bore into mine. He was so convinced that I was lying, hiding something of vital importance from him, and that I was guilty without any proof of his claims.

"I... I didn't even get a chance to! I was hardly with him for more than five minutes," I protested as my lower lip trembled. I really didn't deserve this. I had done absolutely everything that had been asked of me without complaint or question. I followed every rule and abided by every command... but it still wasn't enough. I couldn't save my mate and I certainly couldn't save myself.

"Five minutes is more than enough time to conspire... Max has proof," the man muttered dryly as he picked up a white envelope lying on the table. He opened the clasp and pulled out what appeared to be several photos. "Take a look at these and tell me again that you had nothing to do with this..."

I hesitantly reached forward, my hand shaking, and took the photos. Niall was in almost every single one, along with Ed Sheeran. The two were at a party and they were talking to one another. My eyebrows furrowed in confusion as I let the photos slip from hands and fall onto the table.

"I don't see how that proves anything... it just proves that Niall was talking to Ed, his friend. It doesn't have anything to with me."

The man in the suit was silent, as if he was waiting for something to sink in about the photos. They looked innocent enough to me, but maybe I was missing something? I didn't think so... but I decided to have another look anyway. I picked up the photos, some now had small smears of blood on them from my coughing fit earlier, and I scanned over them again. The man cleared his throat impatiently as he waited for me to make some physic connection to the photographs and why I had been punished.

"Think about what you said, who's involved," the man prompted gruffly as he let out a sigh of annoyance.

"Whatever," I muttered, a weak attempt at sarcasm, but I kept looking. Maybe if I stared at the pictures long enough he'd leave me alone. After Max's visit all I wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep. It was hard to focus on anything besides my body's cries of pain, so Mr. Fancy Smancy Suit and his interrogation questions could fuck off for all I cared.

"Look at the pictures," he repeated coldly.

"I am," I coughed, more blood, as I stared at the photos in my shaking hands.

"Look closer."

My head was pounding now, all I wanted was to just be left alone with some pain pills and a pillow. Why couldn't he just understand that I was innocent of whatever I was being accused of?

"Who do you see in these pictures?" He asked me as he pointed at the photos.

"Niall," I coughed as I slumped forward in my seat and let my head rest against my forearm. A thin trail of blood, starting at my lip, ran down my arm. I looked like absolute shit, but it wasn't my fault.