Rude Awakening {JUSTIN THE SLUTE}

[Trisha Morello]

Trisha woke up with a pounding headache and an uneasy stomach. She had been lying on a poor excuse for a bed. It smelled off and she realized that it was incredibly cold. Shivering, Trisha pushed herself up, her brow furrowing in confusion. Where was she? She looked around and saw another person pacing the gray entrapment and she averted her eyes to the bars. Fuck... She was in jail? Trisha groaned at the realization and put her head in her hands. That's just not fair. What an asshole. He just manhandled her. He cuffed her and shoved her around. She would have gone quietly if he had just asked.

How long had she been in there? She couldn't really tell what time it was. She didn't have a phone or a watch. She absently looked to her wrist and noticed that the cuts she had gotten from the handcuffs were gone. Trisha had discovered her quick healing by accident before and she nearly shit herself in amazement. It was such a strange sensation. She would watch her skin move back over the wound and the pain would be gone just as quickly. The cuts she had gotten from the handcuffs had proven to be nothing different.

The woman who was pacing in the cell was starting to annoy her and Trisha's head kept pounding as the woman made loud footsteps.

"Oh, my god! Chill the fuck out, lady!"

The woman looked at Trisha nervously. It was obvious she'd been taken in for drug abuse and the girl rolled her eyes. Pathetic, she thought, the hypocrisy of her thoughts completely lost on her. When the lady went to her own bed to sit down, Trisha breathed a sigh of relief. How long was she going to be kept in here? This was the first time Trisha had ever been arrested. She didn't know the procedure. Was she going to have to go to court? That seemed a little excessive. What was it they called? Pressing charges? Were charges being pressed against her? Who would be pressing them? That damned pig? Trisha groaned at the memory of what she had said to him. She had half jokingly invited him back to her apartment for some fun times. God, she was such a slute.

[Justin Taylor]

By the time Justin had arrived at the station, checked his arrest into the drunk tank and filled in the necessary paperwork, he had about 5 hours before he was expected back in. Rather than head home he walked up the stairs and grabbed three hours sleep on the sofa that was in his office. Once he had gotten the bare minimum which was all he managed most nights anyway, he hoped up used the showers and changed into a fresh set of clothes and set about his work. He left it a few hours before he stumbled down into the tank, allowing Trisha the slute time to properly sleep off the booze. He had grabbed a cup of coffee on his way down and filled out the papers that would see her released today, providing she had sobered up and was feeling more cooperative after a night behind bars. He wasn't exactly sure what he was going to be walking into when he rounded the corner and saw the two women in the cell, when he had left it was Trisha alone and he had specifically asked for her to be kept isolated.

"What the hell is going on here Williams, I specifically asked that she be kept on her own, I didn't want anyone in with her. Who is that? Show me the rap sheet." The officer could barely speak, he was both embarrassed and intimidated, the fact that he had fucked up was bad enough but Justin was berating him in front of the prisoners, perhaps it was a tad harsh, but it needed to be done. His eyes scanned the paperwork, a hint of rage threatened to overcome his usually calm demeanour as he looked over the other woman's history. He had placed the slute in there as a scare tactic and they had thrown a repeat offender in beside her. "Are you fucking kidding me, I asked you to do one thing, get her the fuck out of there now, there's bound to be room in one of the other cells. " Justin stepped round the corner and allowed the now visibly shaken rookie to escort the other woman from the cell before he returned. He was carrying a stool in his hand that he sat in front of the cell door before sitting on it.

For a moment he sat in silence, simply sipping the coffee, it wasn't the greatest but it would do after three hours sleep on a lumpy sofa. He looked up at the girl, hoping that she had gotten her bearings. "Sorry my place is being renovated, so we had to come here." He smiled a little before continuing. " So Trisha, how are we feeling this morning? I hope you managed to get some sleep. How much of last night do you remember?" He sipped at his coffee as he waited on her answer.

[Trisha Morello]

Trisha was rubbing her temple when she heard a man's voice shouting. She lifted her head to see the one who arrested her berating another officer. She quirked a dark eyebrow as she listened. He wanted her to be alone? Why? Did he think she would be a danger? That she might hurt the other woman in the cell with her? Sure, she did want to punch the lady for being annoying, but Trisha wasn't that rash. If the woman had talked back to her, now that was a different story.

The officer who obviously fucked up came in and took the drug addicted slute out of the cell. While Trisha was minorly grateful, she still shot a cold, icy glare to Justin as he came back with a stool which he placed in front of her cell. Slowly, Trisha rose to a stand and she walked over to the bars. She placed her hands on them and gripped with as she leaned forward slightly. As he spoke, Trisha realized he was mocking her and she managed to hold back a growl.

"I remember enough to tell you you can kiss my ass," she answered matter-of-factly. "You didn't have to fucking cuff me and throw me in a god damn cell." The fact that she had been incredibly difficult when he had tried to talk her down wasn't unnoticed to her. She remembered the lip she had given him and the threatening way she held that metal bar. Of course he was going to arrest her. He tried to get her to calm down and go home quietly, but she had refused at every turn. It wasn't just because she was drunk either. She would have done that shit sober.

A slute's gotta do what a slute's gotta do.

[Justin Taylor]

He raised his eye brow, he was a little surprised that she was still as aggressive sober, perhaps waking up in the cell beside a hardened criminal had shaken her. He had deliberately asked that she be isolated as a way of protecting her, as much as she had annoyed him, he could tell she was just a scared girl, more than likely from out of town and down on her luck. He would once again have to watch his words and hope that she didn't give them any further cause to hold her. Somehow he had managed to bypass her being printed, once she was in the system officially there was no getting out. It would lead her down a path, he didn't want that for anyone, least of all some scared little girl acting the slute. Her comments washed over him once he was used to the initial tone, he simply drank his coffee as she gripped onto the bars. He noticed her wrists, there wasn't a mark on them, he knew he hadn't slapped the cuffs on too tight.

"Trisha, you gave me no choice last night, I tried to talk you down and get you to go home, it's your own fault that you ended up sleeping on that mattress. If nothing else, at least own up to your own mistakes, there's no point in blaming others." He was trying to help her but he realised that if he were in her position, the chances of him actually listening where slim to none. Of course he would have had the sense to at least pretend to take the advice on board, where as she seemed just as likely to spit in his face as actually listen to him. "And besides there's not even a mark on your wrists, so the cuffs weren't that tight. Now how about we start with where you were before you ended up in the alley, who were you with?" He had to try and mix the niceties with the actual questions, he had scared William's off for the moment, but if he were to return and see that Justin was being nice to the drunken slute he dragged in last night, there would be questions raised.

"Look if you don't help me out, you could end up spending another 2 nights in here and I won't be able to keep you isolated the whole time. Right now, I'm your only hope, I'm the one thing standing between you being processed through the system and put into general holding. You think you've had it bad up until now, believe me you haven't seen the worst of it. So please just answer my questions and we can get you home, you don't want to spend any more time around here do you?" Everything about him was sincere from the way he looked at her to the tone of his voice, he genuinely wanted to help the girl. Any other officer would have simply branded her a broken slute, threw her in holding and rushed through the paper work and yet here he was attempting to help her.

[Trisha Morello]

Trisha didn't his first words. He was blaming her, and he was telling her that she could blame herself, too. It was a strange thing, because she felt like he was referring to other things - things in her recent past that no one knew about. Was it really her own fault? Did she bring this on herself? Did she really bring this curse upon herself? A curse she couldn't outrun or out drink no matter how hard she tried. She blamed him though. She always did. Since the very beginning, Trisha blamed the man who pretended to be her friend, her romantic interest. They had grown close fast. Was it a plan from the beginning? Was it her fault that he turned her? Did he think she was some slute he could have fun with and throw away? Surely he had come across plenty of slutes more attractive than her. Not only that, but Trisha had made him work for her attention. She didn't give it up as easily as she did now. She wasn't the slute she is now.

She wanted to cry at the thought that all of this was her own damned fault. Trisha's mouth twitched slightly as a frown came to her lips. Last night was different. Of course it was her own damned fault, and she knew that, but her mind was elsewhere.

Then he mentioned her wrists and Trisha looked at them quickly. She withdrew her hands from the bars and rubbed her wrists thoughtfully. She was glad he didn't think it was strange that there were no marks on her skin. She didn't even had a bruise. Nothing. There wasn't a scratch on her. Strange for a drunk woman, surely. But she wasn't going to press any suspicion on him. If he thought it was due to his chivalry, she would give him that. Trisha turned away from him as her eyes shut quickly. He couldn't see it, but she was holding back tears.

He told her he was her only hope for getting out of here. But she couldn't help but find his last word ironic. He really had no idea. He thought she had run into some bad luck and she hadn't felt the worst of it. She had lived the worst of it. She became a monster. How much worse could it get? He thought she was some dumb slute who just hit a rough patch? He was so incredibly wrong.

"Don't talk like you know me," she hissed softly. After a moment, she composed herself and turned around to face him. "I wasn't with anyone else last night. I was alone the entire time. And I was wandering the fucking neighborhood before I got to the alley. There. You let me out and you can get back to acting like the badass cop who really just beats his wife." She smirked. "I've read the studies. Did you know that public service workers are more likely to abuse their spouses than those working in any other field? Strange, isn't it? That those sworn to protect are really the violent ones? What about you, Justin? Is there a violent streak hidden underneath that cool exterior?" Her smile was a cruel and spiteful one. She did as he asked. She answered his questions. He didn't say she had to be nice about it.

[Justin Taylor]

He watched her reaction's closely, as she pulled her hands back and turned away from him, he felt like he had made a connection, perhaps he was getting through to her. Then of course reality crashed down around him as she turned with that angry aura he had felt last night. Then she lashed out at him, he should have suspected it really, it was the only way she could make herself feel better right now, unleashing her venomous words on him. He listened intently as she spoke, knowing he would never take her words too seriously, especially those designed to hurt him, but if he listened close enough perhaps he could extract the grains of truth hidden amongst the anger. Don't talk like he knew her, that was easier said than done, perhaps he didn't know Trisha too well, but he knew her type. A scared young woman running from her past, whether it was something she had done or something that had been done to her, either way she was attempting to outrun something that would stay with her until she summoned the courage to face it.

She was alone, at least that's what she told him, usually he would have immediately dismissed the idea but something about it rang true. She was alone and not just last night, something about her demeanour suggested she had been abandoned, he could see it behind her brash exterior, she was truly alone. Of course before she revealed too much about herself, she quickly went on the offensive saying he could go back to being a bad ass cop who beats his wife. The thought alone almost made him smile, but he held back any potential sign of emotion and instead sat stoic watching her every movement. He had never seen himself as a bad ass, he simply got on with his job and tried to help those that couldn't help themselves and truth be told that is exactly what he was trying to do for Trisha. It was plain to see that she couldn't help but lash out and she continued to make barbed remarks attempting to dig herself further into trouble, did she believe that she deserved this? Is that what this was, her way of punishing herself for whatever she had done in the past.

Then she continued to probe, asking was there a vicious streak underneath his cool exterior. He had no idea what was under his cool exterior, he had been pushed to the edge a few times but he couldn't honestly answer if he had ever been vicious. The things he had done in the line of duty, he had brushed all of those off, necessary force is what it was called but had he ever been vicious? He looked at her for a moment, seeing her for the scared girl she was, not some drunken slute that was rotting in the drunk tank. "Trisha, what is it you're running from? Because whatever it is, standing there trying to insult me isn't going to help. In fact it's going to make me more likely to allow William's to print you, once he does you'll be logged into the system. Then your prints will be ran against every database we have, so if there's anything you've done, we will know in a matter of moments. I'm going to give you one last chance to cooperate, if you don't, well you know what's going to happen."

[Trisha Morello]

Her words didn't have the kind of reaction she was aiming for. He just stared at her, unfazed by her mockery. Instead, he kept talking to her like she was a girl lost in the big, scary city. He had no idea what she knew - the things she'd seen. Should she tell him? Should she show him? The idea crossed her mind, but she didn't know how she would explain herself. If she could willing transform and show him, he would probably open fire on her. It was only to be expected. She was a monster that deserved to die but she was too coward to do it herself.

His threats were very real to her though. And he was threatening to have her prints ran. Would that mean that her parents would know where she is? The missing girl would finally be found? How would she ever be able to face her parents after leaving like that? They probably thought she was dead or that someone had taken her - not that she had willingly run away.

"I told you everything..." she deflated with a sigh. "What else do you need?" She looked at him with tired, weary eyes. She was done.