Pain (Sam Winchester)

-9- The Little Cop That Could

 Police stations were quite possibly one of my least favorite places to be. Not because police are evil or corrupt, but because they thought that they knew everything.

I, however, didn't know anything about what they were saying right now. Two police officers came in and arrested me after they caught Sam and Dean. They threw me in an interrogation room with Sam, which I didn't understand. Weren't they supposed to keep the three of us separate?

"Just try to keep calm," Sam whispered to me. I looked up from my hands and glanced up at him, seeing his warm hazel eyes shift around. He looked down at me after a moment. "I'll explain everything after we get out of here. Just don't use your powers," He added on. I nodded and kept my mouth shut. I didn't want to speak at all because I knew that whatever I had to say was snarky.

A blonde woman came into the room and set down two cups of water. "I thought you might be thirsty," She said, offering a soft smile.

"So you're the good cop," I started, quirking my eyebrows.

"Where's the bad cop," Sam finished.

"Oh, he's with your brother," She responded.

"And why are we being held?" I asked, rolling my eyes.

"Well, he's being held on suspicion of murder. You guys? We'll see."

"Murder?!" Sam and I exclaimed.

"You guys seemed genuinely shocked."

"An understatement!" I exclaimed, cutting her off.

"You can't hold us here without any formal charges," Sam argued.

"Actually, I can for forty-eight hours," She smirked. "But, you being a pre-law student, I would expect you to know these things. I know all about you, Sam. And you, too, Saraphina." I rolled my eyes as she spoke, hating the way her voice sounded to my ears. "Or, should I say, Bernadette?" She asked. "Bernadette Sallow, but you go by Saraphina O'Rourke. Why is that?" She asked me. Sam looked over at me with confusion, and I supposed that I understood why. Everybody who has known me in the past six years has known me as Saraphina O'Rourke. Saraphina was a cute name, and there are so many people with the last name O'Rourke in the United States that it was nearly impossible to track down the right one.

"What can I say? I like the name," I smirked.

"Well, not only that, but your sister had a much prettier name than you. Xena Sallow, died in a house fire when she was fourteen and you were ten."

"You bite your tongue," I sneered, dropping the smirk immediately.

"Hit a sensitive spot, did we?" She asked.

"If you don't shut your mouth, I'm going to hit something else," I retorted. Sam cleared his throat, making me snap my mouth shut and clench my jaw.

"And Sam Winchester. You're twenty-three years old--like Bernadette--"

"Sara," I cut in. I hated it when people called me Bernadette.

"And you have no job or home address. Your mother died in a house fire and your father's whereabouts are unknown. And then there's the case of Dean Winchester, whose demise was rather exaggerated. Feel free to jump in wherever you'd like," she said. Neither Sam or I said anything. "Shy? I can continue. Both of your families moved around a lot. Sam still managed to get straight A's and got into Stanford on a full ride. Sara," She continued, exaggerating my name. "Dropped out of school when she was seventeen. Just after her mother died." She hit another sensitive nerve, but I clenched my jaw and said nothing. "About six weeks ago, there was a fire in Detroit with one death. A young man named Matthew Abbot, aged 23. And about a year ago, there was a fire in Sam's apartment with one fatality. Jessica Moore. Since then, Sam fell off of the grid."