white flag, steve rogers

003. her shield

chapter three
003. her shield

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"NAME."

Pamela glanced up from where she had been twisting her wrists▬annoyed at the way the metal of the handcuffs scratched at her skin. At first, she did not answer, staring the officer down. He waited for her to speak, and she waited until she was sure there was a chip pulsing on his large, square forehead before she answered smartly: "Meryl Streep."

He eyed her with a steel, annoyed stare. She hadn't been making it easy for him▬she had been making comments with a venomous attitude from the moment she was forced out of that stupid corvette she had stolen and arrested for car theft. Pamela wasn't stupid▬she was far from it. She knew she wasn't making it easier for herself, but it was a strange thrill▬a very strange feeling to have when she realised she didn't care anymore. The thought that she did not care what might happen to her when she stole that car and slammed her foot on the accelerator down the street▬whether she'll take it across the state or wrap it around a street light. The thought that she did not care if she was charged offences, taken to court and then to jail ... Pamela did not care where she went from here▬she had no home to go back to; no bed, no roof, no table and most of all: no family to even care what she did and where she was.

But every time she tried to aggravate this officer, he did not snap. He did not charge her, lose his temper ... he just held his tongue and continued with his job. When she made fun of his hooked nose, he just ignored her. When she teased his dark hair and asked questions to try and make him uncomfortable▬he did not crack. He was calm, he was collected▬he was kind to her despite how rude she was being, and she hated it.

"Full name: Pamela Edith Daniels," went on the officer, reading off the computer screen.

She clenched her jaw, looking back down and clenching her hands. She knew he glanced at her, but did not stop. "Date of birth: June 23rd 1988. Correct me if I'm wrong▬?"

"No," she mumbled, shuffling uneasy in her chair. She didn't meet the officers eyes, "You're right."

"Address?"

Pamela swallowed harshly. She fiddled with her fingers, "I don't have one."

He glanced at the screen again, "Are you not under the care of▬?"

"They kicked me out," she muttered, sheepish. This old ache formed in her throat. Pamela did everything she could to swallow it down. "Actually, I've been kicked out of three homes since then."

The officer hesitated. She knew he was watching her. She set her jaw and refused to let the sting in her eyes overwhelm her. She heard him take a breath and fix his gaze back onto his computer, "This isn't the first time you've been arrested ... You have charges for petty theft, car theft, breaking and entering ..." She knew that tone. She hated that tone▬that tone of disappointment. That tone when someone realised that no matter how many times she promised she would get herself out of her troubles▬no matter how many hours of community service and how many second chances she had been given ... here she was, yet again.

And at the sound of his sigh, she knew that this time, she might not be given another chance.

Pamela stayed silent for the rest of the ordeal. Just as she has done a few too many times before, she let them take her photo and thumbprint. She let them contain her. When they asked her whether there was anyone she wanted to call, she chose to ignore the sad glance when she told them she had nobody who'd want to listen.