Muted

Challanged

(Walsh's POV)

Morris and I sit with [Name]'s grandmother, asking about the uncle and his girlfriend. Holding out the newspaper article to the woman, we stare as her face contorts into anger.
"Those little!- When did they...- I'm going to kill that boy myself, he broke in after I kicked him out!" She growls at the paper in her hands, throwing it onto the coffee table between us.
"So, you never new they were even here?" I ask wide eyed, still shocked by her reaction.
"No. I told them to leave this house and never come back, they're not welcome here."
"Do you know if they took anything of value?" Morris chirps in, like a vulture hungry for clues rather than a little birdie in the morning. [Name]'s grandmother crosses her arms in thought, blinking multiple times before muttering.
"I noticed my bag of zip ties was gone, but I figured I just used them all. Other than that, no."
"You have zip ties conveniently laying around?" The question falls from my lips without filtering through my brain, causing Morris to elbow my side. We're both given a strange look from the woman across from us.
"Yea I did, I'm no good with electronics and all those fancy wires constantly knit themselves together. The only thing I ever learn about them is zip ties keep me from tripping over them and don't double tap the power button, it'll turn off." She smiles in closing, as Morris and I nod like bobble heads.
"I swallow my words." I return with a smirk. Man, this woman's got an incredibly bright smile.

[Name]'s grandmother turns her back to us, walking to the kitchen.
"Tiana's got an unfinished apartment, she's been trying to get Shawn to move in with her for a while. Here's the address, interrogate them however you need." She hands us a slip of paper smiling mischievously. The address is crudely written, stepped on and has the sick smell of garbage. Guessing that the grandmother didn't like perviously mentioned Tiana, I nod and fill my head with questions to ask our new Romeo and Juliet.

"Thank you, mam', you've trusted us all this time without question." Morris lowers her hand in respect, earning a wide eyed grin from [Name]'s grandmother.
"That's because you know what you're doin'." Her teeth shine at us, as both Morris and myself raise our heads to look her in the eyes. She simply laughs and winks, "You might need to close your jacket when playin' undercover, officers." I pull my cheek into a smirk, she knew this whole time that we are cops.
"Dammit, Walsh, you unintentionally flashed your badge, again." Morris buries her face into her palm, shaking her head. I laugh, lightening the awkward atmosphere.

"Yes, mam'. We'll keep that in mind."

~•~•~

"You didn't change your shirt, you don't even clean it."
"Don't have to. You're the only person I'm expecting to see for awhile. I'll change when we get to the house."
"Fine. Gah, the brat got me good. My delicate hands are going to scar because of her."
"Yah, and she about broke my nose!"

"She's gonna pay for this."

(Your POV)

... There's whispers... but it's so dark. It's warm, but you can't see any light.
'No, go away I want to sleep longer.' You groan, turning to roll over.
Vip vip
'Huh, this isn't my bed... nor Cry's couch. What's...' Your nose scratches against the itchy material you're laying on, causing you to sneeze.
"Was that her?"
"I think it was just the bumper, we hit a pothole." A raspy couple argue.
'Pothole? Bumper? Her? ... Am I in a car? Or better yet, tied up in the trunk?' You rub your face on the itchy carpet recognizing where you've felt the fabric before. The trunk of a car. But the voices are what make your lips crack into a curl, baring your teeth angrily.

'Shawn and Tiana.'

You wanted to vomit after thinking the words, glad that you couldn't speak their names; considering it the same as barfing.
You stretch out your legs kicking the other side of the trunk, your feet caressing the scratchy walls.
'Where are my shoes?' You twist one foot over the other, noticing you're shoeless and tied by the ankles. Reaching down to pull the ties loose, you find your wrists in a similar predicament; tied in front of you.
'What the hell! Ironic how they accuse Cry of kidnapping me then turn around and throw me in the trunk of their car!' In anger you thrust your hands down against your thighs, leaving a stinging pain where your fist made impact.
'Thats gunna' leave a mark.' You bite your cheek trying not to whimper. The car makes a sharp turn, tossing you around like a pinball. You smack your nose against the trunks latch, with a loud crack you feel a warm and sticky liquid drip down your face. Tasting it with your tongue, you confirm the 'bloody' mess streaming onto your neck.
"Dammit, Shawn learn how'ta drive!"
"If she wasn't awake before, she's up now."
'I hate that guy...' You groan, not caring to hold your bleeding nose. Knowing that they're more than likely going to beat you for breaking Shawn's, you try to make as much of a mess as you can.