"The wound isn't as deep as we thought, but we're going to wait until we get you to the hospital to remove it just in case, alright?" the medic was telling her as they put her in the ambulance, but Trophy was only half-listening as she tried unsuccessfully to nod, her head and neck in a special brace to keep the knife in place. Her mind was as chaotic as Alase's as she tried to reason with the enormity of what happened to her. She had almost been raped and killed during the execution of Baralai's plan to avoid mere blackmail! He must not have wanted it to happen, since he had given her hints it was going to be bad, and his telling her to remember who she was seemed like he was telling her to fight, but he still knowingly put her in danger. Her thoughts were interrupted by the vehicle suddenly stopping, and she heard Beclem's voice as he boarded.
"I'm going to ask you some questions now, since your husband said you have all the answers." he told her as he sat down next to the medic attending her. "But you've still got the knife in your throat, so I'm just going to ask you yes or no questions, and you can put your thumb up or down to answer, understand?"
Trophy wearily lifted a thumb up, almost wanting to laugh that Beclem was still the same old tunnel-visioned jerkish ass he had always been.
"Did your husband leave you and Lady Laura alone in the cottage with Arrass?" he asked her. Trophy hesitated before turning her thumb down. Beclem nodded, Lady Laura had told him she was outside the cottage when Baralai took off. "So you were by yourself with Arrass?" At the thumbs up, he continued. "Is he the one that attacked you? Lady Laura was the one trying to save you? Did you try to fight or escape on your own?" After all the positive answers, he finally asked a question that got a negative response. "So you never consented to the assault?"
Trophy turned her thumb down just as they were pulling into the emergency bay at the hospital. Once she was taken inside, Beclem went straight to the security office, having learned the layout of the hospital while he was working there. "An assault victim was just brought in, I want her registered as an unknown transient." he pompously ordered the lone guard there watching the monitors.
"But isn't she the…" the guard started to question him.
"Not today she isn't." Beclem interrupted rudely. "And she is to have no visitors until I come back. If her husband shows up, stall him. Feel free to tell him you're acting on my orders."
"Stay where you are." Patrice told Alase, covering her naked body with the bedspread before she opened the door, confronted by Beclem and an unfamiliar man and woman each holding a clipboard, while Baralai's butler was stuttering apologies for the interruption and complaining about the lack of the intruders' manners. "What do you want?" Patrice asked Beclem flatly.
"I have a court order here allowing me to have that woman analyzed by our own psychologists." Beclem handed Patrice the legal document as he gestured toward Alase. "And if she has information relevant to my investigation, we'll put her in protective custody as a material witness." he added, his attempt to be reassuring coming across as high-handness.
Patrice frowned as she scanned the document. "Fine, but nothing states how long the analysis can last, so if you cross the line and put her at risk, not only will I personally throw you all out, I'll see to it that the next line you cross will be the unemployment line."
Beclem was taken aback by such a coldly delivered threat from his superior's wife, who was known to have an agreeably calm temperament, and he nodded agreement before he knew what he was doing. "Either one of them can do it, whatever you think she'd feel more comfortable with."
"Both of them can, I want to see which gender she responds to more." Patrice replied quietly so Alase wouldn't overhear.
"I'll leave you to it then, I'm going back to the hospital to finish interviewing Lady Rikku before she talks to her husband." Beclem turned sharply on his heel and left.
"Can you tell us your name?" the woman asked Alase once Patrice moved to allow them entry into the room, but she made them stay at least two feet away from the bed.
"My name is Whore. I exist only for the pleasure of others." Whore repeated once again. It was exactly like she had been told, she was constantly being asked questions over and over again. She smiled happily, comforted by even more proof that her Light never lied and was so protective of her, having blended her male and female Lights into one dual-natured entity in her head to handle the confusion she felt when thinking about them both.
"Who gave you that name?" the man asked, and Whore just stared blankly at him, not understanding the question. Her name was who she was, and she had always been herself, hadn't she?
"Do you know this man?" the woman pulled a picture of Arrass out from her clipboard and held it out for her to see.
"It's Him!" she blurted out, throwing the bedspread off herself as she tried to launch herself at the woman, but her injured body failed and she fell to the floor, crawling to the woman and waving her hands up to grab the picture.
"What do you mean by Him?" the man asked, taking the picture from his colleague, and hiding it in his clipboard.
Whore couldn't answer, the crushing disappointment she felt at her weak body depriving her of her Light overwhelming her, and she started crying uncontrollably as she huddled on the floor, the psychologists momentarily losing their composure as they witnessed the physical and mental effects of what Alase had been subjected to.
"Give me the picture if you want her to answer more questions." Patrice demanded, and the man reluctantly handed it to her. "It's okay, just calm down and you can have the picture." She gently stroked Alase's hair as she repeated her promise until she calmed down enough to speak again.
"He's my Light." Whore eagerly took the picture from Patrice and clutched it to her.
"Your Light? What do you mean by that?" the man asked.
"They guide me so I can fulfill my destiny as Master Baralai's fucking slave. It's what I've always wanted, just like his baby." Whore replied, an almost imbecilic smile appearing on her face, but none of the others in the room failed to notice the lack of enthusiasm in her almost robotic recital.
"They? How many Lights do you have?" the woman asked.
"I…I'm not sure." Whore admitted, feeling puzzled. "I've only had two."
"Two? Who's your other one?" This time Patrice asked the question.
"You are." Whore looked adoringly at the older woman, feeling confident this was a test. Her Light knew who they were.
Patrice stared at her in surprise, trying to recover her composure as she turned to the two psychologists. "That's enough questions. You can talk to her at a later date, you've excited her too much and she needs to adjust to her new surroundings." she started rambling and pointed firmly towards the door. When they reluctantly left, she sighed heavily. Alase's revelation that she considered her in the same category as Arrass was beyond disturbing, but being viewed as no different than that bastard was nothing compared to the fact that it showed Alase was now incapable of functioning on her own, she couldn't survive without having someone she was totally dependent on.