A/N: This chapter is a little short I apologize.
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"Do you have the urge to seek out your soulmate, right now?"
Kellin glares dead ahead at the dull, grey walls of the interrogation room, refusing to look at the police officer.
The second he walked inside the house and told his father what happened, he was dragged into custody. It's not his father's fault, exactly; it's his job to call in mated-borns encountering their mates. If he were to try and shirk that responsibility just because it's his son, he'd probably be taken into custody himself. Definitely fired from his job as San Francisco's Sheriff, possibly sent to federal prison for a very, very long time. Of course he's never had the need or opportunity to call in a 2654 until that exact moment.
"Yes."
"If you were to find your soulmate, what do you think you would do, Mr. Bostwick?"
Turning his small, dainty wrists around as much as he can while they're handcuffed behind his back, he sighs through his nose. "I- I'm not sure."
"Do you feel violent, son?"
"No."
"Are you having any thoughts of suicide?"
"No."
"Have you had any urges to hurt yourself or those around you?"
Kellin once again breathes out a sigh and rolls his eyes. "No."
"Have you been having hallucinations, vivid nightmares-"
"It just happened two hours ago. I haven't slept since then."
The officer raises his eyes from the clipboard for the first time since he was put in this interrogation room, and sweeps them up and down the small-framed boy where he sits stiffly in an uncomfortable metal chair across from him. "Okay. One more question, for the last time," he slaps the clipboard down onto the table and glares at Kellin as if he's a criminal, "what's the name of your soulmate?"
Kellin rolls his large eyes for what seems to be the umpteenth time that day and grits his teeth. "I told you. I don't fucking know."
"You don't know the name of your soulmate?" A short laugh, just like all the other ones before. "Why do I find that so hard to believe, Mr. Bostwick?"
"Um, because you're an idiot?" The small boy answers, feigning an innocently sweet smile.
"If you're protecting them-"
"Oh my God!" Kellin throws his head back and tries for the trillionth time to rip his way out of the handcuffs out of frustration, to absolutely no avail. "I'm not protecting him, alright?"
"Him? It's a him?" The officer asks with a brow arched inquisitively. His pen clicks again, and he starts writing furiously across the page.
"Yes, Christ. He- I can give a physical description. I know what kind of car he drives, but I just...don't know his name."
Because his soulmate never fucking told him...
Luckily, the next morning, after he's finally been released and declared 'dangerous but non-lethal', whatever the literal hell that even means, things blow up exactly as they both thought they would. Even without Ronnie's picture, it didn't matter. He told TMZ Kellin's name, they looked him up, got permission to check his medical records, confirmed what he was, and dragged out his fucking baby pictures with the mark on full display.
