Silent

Jason’s eyes widen as Nate emerges from the break room with the sandwich. He knew exactly what Nate was doing and found it quite funny.

Entering the holding cell, he keeps himself from grinning, and tops off the noise by slamming the door.

Carson cringes at all the noise, putting both hands to his head. “Aw, cut it out,” he growls. His head felt as if it would split open.

As Nate sets the sandwich down, Carson’s stomach lurches and he grits his teeth against the increasing nausea. “Dang you, Nate.” The description of the food doesn’t help any, and finally Carson can’t take it any longer. As quickly as his shaky legs can handle it, he’s off the cot, barely making it to the toilet in the corner to throw up.

Jason quirks an eyebrow at Nate, the grin finally surfacing. “Nice.”

Carson groans as he sits on the floor in total misery. “You guys take the cake, you know that.” He starts to complain more, but can’t before his stomach revolts again.

Jason shakes his head. “I take it you’re not feeling too well this morning Mr. Banks. So sorry. But you know we can’t have that keeping us from doing our jobs. When you’re done ralphing, just come on back over here and we got some things we’re wanting to ask you.”

“I bet.” Carson hurls a curse in their direction before another wave hits him. After a few minutes he sinks back against the wall, not even trying to get up.

Jason cocks his head. “Comfortable?”

Carson shoots him a glare.

Jason smiles. “Good. Now…where’d you go Carson? Did you talk to the Agency about us?”

Carson grits his teeth, saying nothing.

Jason tries again. “I think you know by now that we’re not playing games. Now come on. Where did you go?”

Carson refuses to meet his eyes. He might not be able to remember what happened the night before, but before that, he knew good and well. And he wasn’t about to talk about it.

Jason waits, but receives nothing. He finally looks to Nate for help.