LOKI'S POV

Well, damn.I thought as I saw the red, white and blue lights flashing against the night sky. My head was throbbing but I didn't really know if it was from the booze or from the steering wheel slamming into my head. I wasn't sure and at the moment, I really didn't give a fuck. I had bigger things to worry about. Like my father's car that I just managed to wrap around a tree, the deputy who had just called in for back up assistance and the three open containers I had on in the front seat. Damn.

I hissed at the harsh light that Deputy Hamilton flashed in my face. "Out of the car, Laufeyson."

Never good when the cops know you on a last name basis.

Fuck you, I thought but did as I was told. I didn't want to add resisting arrest to the list of charges that I was already going to face.

"How much have you had to drink tonight?"

There is never really a good answer to that question but probably better to be a little honest than to completely to deny. "Just one or two." I said trying not to slur. Not slurring was actually a lot harder than I thought it would be.

Deputy Hamilton gave me an all knowing smile.

He has to know I'm wasted. I just wrapped my freaking car around a tree.

"Alright Laufeyson, step away from the vehicle."

I managed to stumbled away from the car, scowling angrily as the rest of the cops stopped whatever the hell they were doing to stare.

Yeah, I knew the drill, but I'll let my good friend Hamilton walk me through the field sobriety test as another Deputy searched my car. I could feel the cold metal of the handcuffs digging into my hands as he cuffed me a little harder than necessary. "Jesus Christ!" I spat over my shoulder angrily. "Don't be so rough next time."

"Next time? Geez,Laufeyson, you need to shut your mouth, kid. You're in enough trouble as it is. Don't make me slap a disorderly charge on you too."

"Bite me." I mumbled under my breath.

"How fancy that sounds in your pretty British accent." he snorted as he shoved me forcefully into the back of his cruiser, my head clipping the edge of the door. I knew this part of the drill too. I'd have to sit in the back of this cold car while the rest of them finished searching mine. Only after a tow truck had been called to haul away my now useless vehicle, would Hamilton finally take me down to the station. I'd be fingerprinted, photographed, and released to a responsible parent or guardian with various citations and yet another smudge on my already hefty record.

There was no doubt in my drunk mind that a drunk my father would be pissed or, at the very least, threaten to let me sit overnight in the jail, and he'd do it too.

"You just can't stay out of trouble, can you Laufeyson? Fatherdy's not going to be too pleased after he gets this phone call."

"How would you achieve your quota of human interaction if I didn't come in to visit you," I slurred, mentally flipping him off since I couldn't do so physically with my hands cuffed behind my back. I slouched down in the seat as much as possible, leaning my throbbing head back against the seat as I closed my eyes. I'd whacked my head pretty hard against the steering wheel and the door of the cruiser. I wondered if I could get my father to sue the cops for failure to even make sure I didn't have a concussion. I mean, I probably could have died sitting here or something. But I knew better than that. Good ole Odin didn't like to waste money on me, unless my mother had guilted him into it. Now that she was gone, that wasn't an issue.

Being arrested was not as cool as it's portrayed on TV. You basically get thrown in this tiny room with the Sheriff and maybe a few deputies while you sat there, handcuffed, in a cracked plastic chair that pinched your ass every time you so much as breathed. And supposedly, you only got one phone call, but that was bullshit because they made me call my parents as many times as it took for them to answer.

So there I sat, with my head tucked between my now un-cuffed hands as I waited for my so called father to show up.

The only sounds to be heard were Hamilton typing away on his old ass computer and some other Deputy at the desk in the back of the room coughing his germs all over the place. Disgusting. The shrill ringing of the telephone sliced through the air, causing me to cringe as the sound assaulted my ears. Did everything have to be so goddamned loud?

"Processing," he greeted. I couldn't hear the person on the other end of the phone, but Hamilton's portion of the conversation told me everything I needed to was here. "Tell him to have a seat in the waiting room. I'm not done processing our friend yet."

As he slammed the phone down, again, harder than necessary, I scowled angrily. "My father doesn't take too kindly to waiting," I reminded him, but he was well aware. He simply smirked in my direction and shrugged.

"Then Your Father shouldn't have raised such a fuck up."

Right then I wanted to punch him right in his smug face, but assaulting a police officer was a pretty hefty charge and I wanted to do nothing more than to get home to bed, so I kept my mouth shut, again. It wasn't easy,

Just as I was debating on whether or not to puke right there on the ugly floor, Hamilton pushed his chair back, cracking his knuckles. "Alright Laufeyson. Let's go."

"About time."

"Shut your mouth before I change my mind and hold you here a little longer."

He pulled me to my feet and shoved me towards the door of the processing room. I stumbled drunkenly down the hallway, nearly face-planting twice before we even made it to the waiting room. My father sat, his mouth turned downward in a frown as he pushed himself to his feet.

"Mr. Odinson." Hamilton greeted with a nod of his head.

"How much trouble is he in this time?" my father asked, clenching his jaw.

I hated when they talked about me like I wasn't even standing here.

"He's lucky he didn't kill himself. We got a call for an accident just off the highway. Driving drunk again, of course. We cited him for reckless driving, driving under the influence, underage possession of alcohol, three charges of driving with an open container."

I didn't miss the glare that he sent my way. I knew I was in for it but it took every ounce of strength I had to keep from not puking.. I loved when he pretended to actually give a shit whether or not I killed myself in front of other people. We both knew he didn't care about what happened to me. He was just concerned about all the cute things Thor was doing that he was missing right now.

"Can I talk to him in private for a few minutes?" my father asked.

"Well sure, but he's free to go."

When he didn't speak, Hamilton asked "Aren't you going to take him home?"

My father gave him a look that cutoff any further questions.

"No actually. I'm not. I'm done bailing him out."