Author's Notes: I have seen variations of the Stockholm syndrome in every fandom yet it is usually portrayed in an unrealistic manner so I've created a story that might answer the motives and reasons behind this syndrome (which doesn't involve a criminal with a soft spot for a good looking person, vice versa).
-Chapter One-
Charlie waited with bated breath, his eyes fixed on the Krispy Kreme store in front of him. Who would have thought that the popular hangout would have become a target for five heartless people? How much money could one doughnut store possibly hold? Charlie felt as though his head was going to burst. He wanted answers to questions he didn't even know yet. Bombay, next to him, seemed to sense his discomfort.
"It'll be over soon," Bombay assured him. "They have the captors in custody and they're going to bring out the captives now."
"What's taking so long?" he asked, impatiently. The sick, twisting feeling in his gut made him wish this whole ordeal was over with. Bombay frowned.
"I don't know Charlie, but I think the policeman said something about the captives being uncooperative."
"Uncooperative?"
"I don't know all the answers right now Charlie, we just have to wait and see." Julie stepped up and gripped his hand tightly, maybe to comfort him, maybe to keep him from bothering Bombay some more, who looked equally worn and tense. The rest of the Ducks fanned behind them, all looking anxious and weary. The hold-up had started about 78 hours ago; it was Saturday then. It was Saturday night when Adam hopped into his car from all the wheedling of his friends to buy some snacks. Charlie could almost hit himself but reminded himself, how were they to know that a quick trip to the store would turn into a nightmare?
"One of the captives has been shot, the police just found him," Bombay said. Apparently he had been talking to one of the police.
"Who, who is it?" Charlie asked him urgently. Bombay pushed his hair back, looking older, far older than someone his age should look.
"I don't know yet, we'll know soon."
"It's not Banks right? It can't be him," Guy said. Charlie shook his head.
"It can't be, not our Banks." Guy seemed at peace then; he nodded, taking his captain's word for truth, all the Ducks did. It was easier to cut off the treacherous brain from thinking up more morbid thoughts. The sky was overcast and Charlie's back hurt from standing for a prolonged period of time. It hurt almost unbearably but he didn't let himself complain, even internally. He knew what he was going through was nothing compared to the hell his best friend must have endured for the past 78 hours. At least he had a friend's hand gripped in his own with the rest of his friends close at his back. He was with his family and friends while Adam was alone with strangers.
"The police did a headcount and all seventeen people seem to be alive."
"Even the one shot?"
"He was the first to be taken to the hospital but the police won't disclose his name. The rest seem relatively healthy, mildly dehydrated but that's to be anticipated."
The grip on Charlie's hand tightened, causing him to look away from Bombay's face and to the store's door. It was opening. The first to step out was a woman in her mid-thirties maybe. She was looking disoriented, as though just jarred awake from a deep sleep. She was led, as though in a daze, by the paramedics and was put into the ambulance. The same was done for the next person to step out, a teenage boy, but he wasn't Adam. His expression mirrored the woman before him; he blinked as though not used to light that wasn't artificial. He nodded as the medics spoke to him soothingly and put him in the ambulance also.
"Are they all going to the hospital?" asked Charlie.
"They have to have a check- up and kept overnight to ensure that their trauma was minor and if not, they would be immediately referred to a psychiatrist." Charlie watched the faceless people file out of the store and finally, a blonde boy stepped out. He looked around and for a second, his blue eyes focused on Charlie. Charlie started to wave and Adam cocked his head as though trying so hard to place Charlie's face. The medics led him away and the blank and vaguely sad expression stayed on his face. Unnoticed by the Ducks, however, they started to cheer.
"Why doesn't he recognize me?" Charlie asked. Bombay was frowning.
"I'm sure he does, Charlie. He's just been through a lot. We all have to give him time."
Charlie sighed though, and it was one of relief. Adam Banks was safe.……………………………………..
Adam stepped out, unsure of what to do next. He was surprised to find a large crowd of people standing out there and he scanned the crowd until his eyes snagged on a brown-haired boy who was raising his arm as to wave. Adam knew him, he was sure of it. But he was so tired and so thirsty. Just give him a minute; he'll be able to figure it out. But the medics started to lead him away.
"No, wait," he protested weakly.
"Come on," they said, gently but firmly. Adam was helplessly led away and he tried to let the boy know he was sorry. As soon as he was seated in the ambulance, however, the world outside seemed to suddenly turn into sand and trickle into his ears.
Charlie. Charlie Conway. My best friend. Adam's stomach knotted. What's the matter with him? How could he not even recognize his own best friend? But the knotting eased a bit as the ambulance started to drive away when he heard the Ducks, his Ducks, cheering.
……………………………………..
A/n: the actual symptoms will begin to appear beginning the next chapter. Thanks for reading!