~And if you ask me 'round,

And I should decline,

Don't take it to heart,

Your company is fine,

But I get on better with mine, ooh, ooh, ooh~

After the first week of his more-responsibility job, Niall started making his own schedule. That was the easiest part of his job, and the area where everyone else had the least amount of outside control. He could schedule patients whenever and they would have to comply. This system allowed him to schedule an appointment with Niall at six o'clock. That time slot was used rarely, but for this it had to be necessary.

The whole day, Niall was excited by his master plan. By what was to happen the minute that the clock struck seven. Because then it would be time for both the therapist and the patient to go home. Although, Connor probably wouldn't go home. He'd most likely head to the woods or something where the cops couldn't find him after he was out of this place.

After spending a while hanging out with his new nephew, Niall headed to Wal-Mart - not caring if anyone saw him - and bought eyedrops. And at 5:30 tonight he was going to take the one break that he was allotted for the day - that would make the worker's union happy since Niall almost never took one at all, the workaholic. On that break he was headed straight for the coffeeshop to get drinks for Connor's team of guards - since they never seemed to change, and were always accompanying the paralysed man everywhere.

Coffee, eyedrops, boom! No guards. That was what Niall had written in his notebook, but in his head it was a lot more thought out than that and a lot more sciency. A lot of the guards would be needing the bathroom at the same time due to a certain substance placed in their beverages, put there by the pale slightly-Irish therapist. Then all Niall had to do was walk Connor out the back door into the loving arms of his sister. He did end up having to look up her number from the file to let her know his plan.

And no, he wasn't an idiot. He called from the payphone outside of Wal-Mart.

Niall could hardly contain his excitement throughout the day. Maybe crime and deception were supposed to be his specialty. Not psychology and therapy work. And by the time he was walking back into the building, drink carrier in his hand and his own drink in the other, towards the room where the guards and Connor would undoubtedly be waiting, it was hard to keep a straight face and stop from skipping past Gary, swiping his card, and joyfully singing his way down the halls to the therapy room. But somehow he did it.

Wow, illegal activity really was fun and got Niall happy in a way that speeding through life and following the rules didn't.

"Got you guys coffee." He said to the two guards out the room, Connor's file under his arm after a quick stop at his (Kyle's) office.

"Thanks, Niall," They responded, surprised at his friendly nature. The two of them each took a drink and smiled as the therapist walked through the door and handed off the other pair of coffees. Niall, of course, knew better than to give Connor a drink. The man had a temper - what if he threw it? And before it even came to that, the guards would have taken if from him faster than you could have screamed fire in a crowded theater. Or riot in a prison.

"Another session?" Connor inquired once Niall sat and took a large gulp of his iced coffee.

"I met your sister yesterday!" Niall said cheerily. "Thought we should discuss how that went, and what she had to say to me."

Albeit confused, Connor didn't protest to the meeting, talk, and exercises for the next hour. He was pretty chill. And as the time drew closer to seven, one guard left the room to go home for the day, and then the other one left hurriedly after bending over suddenly.

Niall pretended nothing was wrong. Connor didn't seem to notice the sudden disappearances. When he began to escort the inmate out of the room, he found one guard out there, shaking in his boots. "You okay?" Niall asked, concerned. "Need the doctor?"

"Coffee runs right through me. I got to get him back to his cell."

"I can do it. I've got a key and know my way around this place," Niall chuckled, and the guard nodded before speed-walking away to the bathroom. And instead of taking a right back to the cell blocks, Niall guided Connor to the left, through the administrative block.

Connor realized immediately. "What are you doing?"

"I believe you," was all he had to say.

"So, you're what? Breaking me out?"

"Be a little quieter, will you?" Niall was trying to focus. It was just past seven. Anyone could be walking out of their office and block the way to the doors. But it seemed like luck was on their side. And as soon as Niall swung open the door, he saw the car waiting and gestured Connor towards it. "Go on!"

"Thank you!" He said, taking great strides with his crutches.

Niall smiled and went back inside to clock out before going out for a drink.

---

There was no reason for him not to be pleased with how successful the escape attempt was. It was even easier than that to call in sick again. He had already been demoted to part-time, but it wasn't like he really cared.

Instead of buying a case or calling Greg up, Niall went to a club alone. After all, he was a young adult. Maybe he should meet some friends. Or even a girl, maybe. His social bubble should be a lot bigger than work and family. And he was feeling good! No, great! For the first time, about his place in the hierarchy of the world.

He almost didn't hear the sirens whooping outside the bar, or see the detectives enter and talk to the staff. "We're looking for a brunette. Niall Horan."

When you have an odd name and hear it in a public place when you know not a single soul, the terror that drips through your veins is real and poignant. Instead, Niall smiled upon hearing his name. And he raised his hand in the middle of the dance floor, screaming over the masses, "That's me! Hi!"

The head detective saw the hand and heard the response and sighed deeply. Wednesday night's weren't supposed to be so chaotic like this.