WARNING: This chapter contains graphic depictions of the rape kit exam and flashbacks to past violence/assaults.
xxxxx
The exam room was plain and white like every other room in the hospital.
The ceiling was made of perforated tiles that made a dizzying, unending pattern above her head. In front of her, the table awaited, covered in a temporarily pristine sanitary sheet. In a few hours it would be gathered up in the rest of the rape kit, just another piece of the crime scene that was her body.
The temperature inside was even enough, but Olivia's arms had prickled with goosebumps before she'd even passed the threshold. Her heart was racing in her chest, though the shallow beat seemed far away, especially to her ice cold hands.
The horror and sadness that had gripped her less than an hour ago seemed as if it had been sucked into this empty vacuum of space. A dull hollowness filled her chest where fear and anxiety should have festered.
Amanda was next to her, holding her elbow, but she couldn't reach back for her. The force field of emptiness around her wouldn't allow for it, and she didn't think that she'd want it to.
She knew the details of a rape kit, the steps to complete it, the excruciating and tedious hours it would take to gather the evidence.
She'd studied the procedure during college with an almost morbid fascination. At the time, she'd been obsessed with finding her mother's rapist, her father; but at the same time she'd also been fixated on mentally punishing herself with vivid re-enactments of her mother's rape kit procedure and the ensuing police investigation. She'd buried herself deep enough inside her studies to ignore the issues that caused dedication to such horror.
It would be a lie to say she'd never imagined herself here. In fact, somewhere along the line her imaginations of her mother had morphed into herself. She'd convinced herself that it was only theoretical, a way for her to understand the victims, right up until she'd awoken tied to the chair in her apartment.
He'd toyed with her, first burning her mercilessly with taunts and jeers, then touching her almost softly, his hands seeking between her legs with a revolting caress. She knew it had been manipulative, the way he'd battered her in hopes of wearing her down enough to believe that rape might be less painful and terrorizing, but it hadn't stopped her from imagining that it might be true. Only when she'd broken down, pleading and crying, had he pulled back with a sadistic grin.
You've been waiting for me to come along haven't you? He'd asked, gazing at her in a strangely affectionate manner. You need me to take away your choice, don't you? I think you want to be raped. I think you're obsessed with it.
At that, she'd screamed through the tape, finally finding some ire with which to lash out at him, but he'd only laughed with a cavalier smirk, running his hand through her hair.
Guess what, baby? He'd whispered. It's not gonna be that easy.
"Olivia?" Amanda's voice drew her back suddenly from the cacophony of memories to the silent buzz of white-noised apprehension inside the eerily quiet exam room.
She blinked with a quick draw of breath, finding Amanda's hand squeezing her arm softly. They'd come to a halt just inside the door way, and Olivia could feel her body rigidly attempting to avoid the table with it's sterilized surface and dooming stirrups. She knew she was terrified, but she couldn't quite reach the emotion the way her body seemed to remember it. Somewhere between her collapse in Amanda's arms and this moment her brain had been lobotomized from the horror.
"You okay?" Amanda asked, her brows furrowed.
Her voice seemed muffled by the crackle of her own head space, but Olivia nodded slowly.
She wasn't sure how long this numbness would last, but she clung to it, knowing that when this veil of detachment passed she would feel the weight of this entire examination in one crushing instant.
"I'm fine." She murmured, knowing it was a lie.
She took a step forward although her legs were weak beneath her. She managed to make it to the table where Amanda helped her up. The crinkle of the sanitary paper scraped loudly against her ears, and she flinched against the feeling of it folding and crunching beneath her weight. She imagined yanking it off the table and smashing it into a tiny, little ball and hurling it as far away from her as she could.
Amanda's hand slipped from her arm, hesitantly, and Olivia could sense her concern dancing on the tip of her tongue once more. Before she could say anything, however, the door opened and a nurse, carrying the rape kit box, entered.
Olivia curled her fingers around the edges of the table, her throat going tight. The nurse appeared kind enough. Her scrubs were decorated in clouds and baby lambs. She noticed that her nails were manicured in a soft pink as she grabbed a pair of gloves and began to pull them on.
She's young. Olivia thought, studying her bottle blonde hair and perfect matte lipstick, despite the relevance of the fact. Probably half my age…. How many women in her forties does she see…?
She wasn't sure where the train of thought was going, but she immediately reprimanded herself. After fifteen years on the job, she should know that a sexual assault could happen to anyone, no matter their age.
She pulled her gaze away and fixed her eyes on her lap. Her knees were scraped and bruised, blooming purple and blue. She grabbed the edge of the gown and tugged it down over the unsightly image.
"Hi, Olivia." The nurse said, kindly, "My name's Erica."
"Hello." Olivia managed to glanced up at her although it was the last thing she wanted to do.
"Before we get started I want you to know that you are in charge in here, ok?" Erica said, pulling up a stool to sit down in front of her. "If at any time you feel uncomfortable with a certain step we can stop."
Olivia nodded, almost automatically.
It didn't matter how kind Erica was or how accommodating she made the exam. It didn't matter if Olivia wanted to stop or if she was uncomfortable. She had to make it through this entire process no matter how humiliated or exhausted she was. There would be no backing out. There would be no tears.
"I've spoken with your doctor, and if you'll allow us, I'd recommend doing a drug-facilitated kit because you were extremely intoxicated when you were admitted. That would include taking two samples of blood and one of urine."
Olivia nodded once more, clenching her fingers around the hem of the gown harder.
"Yes, whatever you need to do."
Erica paused, glancing over at Amanda.
"You're in charge here, Olivia." She repeated. "This isn't my rape kit. It's yours."
"You think I don't know that?" Olivia whispered, sharply, before she could filter the resentment from her voice.
"Olivia…" Amanda murmured, stepping closer.
"It's ok." Erica said, holding up a hand, seemingly unaffected by Olivia's angry response. "That's ok, Olivia. We can take our time here."
Olivia hunched over her knees, clenching her teeth together.
The last thing I want is for this to take any longer than it needs to. She thought, though she couldn't speak around the knot in her throat.
"Liv." Amanda murmured once more, her fingers barely brushing her arm.
The light touch seemed to burn her and she sucked in a breath, fighting the urge to overreact to the innocent contact. If she couldn't even handle Amanda's gentle hands how would she be able to survive this stranger poking and prodding her for the hours to come?
She rocked forward, pressing her lips together against the harsh sting of tears. Her throat was filled with a lump of dread but she managed to stave off the emotion. Seeking out the plane of disassociation, she calmed herself enough to breath.
Amanda's and Erica's silent stares pushed her to eek out a response, her voice strained from the effort of quieting the terror inside her.
"Do it all. Whatever you can find against him."
"Okay." Erica said with an encouraging smile that barely reached through the haze in her brain.
"You're doing good." Amanda whispered from beside her, but she couldn't look over at her.
Her eyes were focused on the box in Erica's hands. She knew it was only cardboard and plastic but it wasn't the tools that frightened her.
"First, I'll need to ask you a few questions about your recent sexual activity." Erica said as she began to open the box. "Is that all right?"
Olivia gave a short nod, her fingers blanching with her grip on the hem of her gown.
"All right." Erica said, clicking her pen open.
Her hand poised against the page where she would write intimate details that she'd never expected to tell anyone else when she'd engaged in them only days before. How naive she'd been, carelessly giving herself to someone who she'd never even think to allow inside this room.
"Within the last five days before the incident did you engage in any sexual activity?"
Olivia stared down at the with page filled with neatly printed text that carefully spelled out her humiliation. She wasn't sure why she was so horrified to say she'd had sex, but maybe it wasn't the previous act so much as her present aversion to such things.
She drew a breath, and nodded.
"Yes, about a day prior to the abduction."
"Okay, was it vaginal, anal, or oral penetration?"
"V-vaginal." She stuttered, pressing her eyes shut.
"Did you use protection?"
"Yes." She whispered, pulling her hands from her knees in order to scrub her hands over her face.
She didn't add that they always used protection at Brian's insistence. She went along willingly because she knew that Brian wasn't ready to be a father. She ignored the fact that they were both at that stage in life where they should've already made that decision ten years ago, if not longer.
"Was this intercourse with a single partner?" Erica asked, jarring her from her meandering thoughts.
"Um...yes, I'm sorry." She replied, haltingly.
"That's ok. Just let me know if you need a break."
"I'm fine." Olivia replied, quickly.
She glanced over at Amanda for half a second, their eyes meeting. She'd trusted her more than anyone in the last few hours but it was seemingly impossible to escape the feeling of utter loneliness. She stood alone on this raised platform of scrutiny, stripped of her privacy both physically and emotionally, and even the audience of the kindest soul was an assault to her aching being. Despite the compassion in Amanda's eyes she looked away, strangely ashamed for her witnessing this deeply revealing moment. Unlike their photo session she was completely clothed, but somehow this seemed almost more invasive.
"Okay." Erica said, jotting down a final note before she looked up. "Now, I'm just going to ask you what you remember about the assault. This is just so I have a better understanding of what to look for."
Olivia grabbed onto the edges of the table once more, her coldly sweating palms crunching the sanitary paper. Her wrist ached but she ignored the painful sensation. All she could feel was the flush of horror bleeding across her cheeks as she wondered how she could possibly encase the multiple assaults that stretched across four days into a few simple sentences. She hadn't realized it before, but she wasn't ready to speak aloud what had happened.
"Um…." She whispered, her voice trembling. "I-I'm not really sure how to…." The wavering of her tone collapsed completely into a strained silence and she clenched her teeth together, muffling any noises that could escape.
"It's ok." Amanda murmured next to her.
She felt her hand touch her back, rubbing softly, but she only wanted to hide away from it. She didn't dare look over at her or acknowledge her in any way. She knew she would completely break if she did.
"As I said before we can skip any part that you are uncomfortable with." Erica said, softly.
Olivia furrowed her brow and squeezed her eyes shut in order to force the tears away.
She'd just told Erica to do whatever she had to do, but the enormous burden of retelling what had happened seemed insurmountable.
"I'm sorry, I can't." She whispered through clenched teeth at last.
"That's all right, Olivia." Erica returned. "We don't have to do anything you don't want to do."
Olivia gave a short nod, feeling both disappointed in herself and relieved that she would not have to recount the details. Amanda patted her back once more, and for the first time since stepping into the room she found some solace in the comfort.
"The next step is really easy." Erica assured her as she took a small package out of the box. "We're just going to swab the inside of your mouth." She tore open the plastic, retrieving two, long swabs as she explained, "It's just going to be really quick along the insides of your cheeks and under your tongue."
Olivia nodded, though she hated having to lift her head and show her face. She closed her eyes and opened her mouth for the swabs as Erica leaned in. It was most likely going to be the easiest part of the entire exam and she told could at least relish the fact that her mind was no longer being rummaged through, and that her body was yet to be uncovered.
When the swabs were done, Erica took out two tiny slides and transferred the sample onto the glass. They were packaged into bag that read: STEP ONE ORAL.
It was so clinical, so precise and cold. When the lab looked through the microscope and searched for the presence of foreign DNA, she doubted that they'd imagine what had been done to her. They wouldn't know her name, who she was, or why her saliva was a priority to them. Maybe that was better. Maybe it just made her feel even more alone.
"Next, we're going to do another sample of your saliva, and this one is to ensure that we can identify your DNA in the lab, and rule it out from the suspects." Erica said as she unwrapped a small white instrument that looked like a tiny brush.
Olivia nodded in affirmation though she felt herself clinging to the last few moments of decency that this exam would afford her. There were few precious minutes left before the hospital gown would be peeled away from her body, each bruise and laceration scraped and swabbed. She could feel the weight of the more physical, intimate steps hanging above her, ready to crush her. Dread clogged her throat, squeezing tight at the thought of the stirrups and the speculum.
She closed her eyes once more as rough bristles scraped along the inside of her cheek. The sensation was far from painful, but nearly any stimulation at this moment was almost more than she could bear. She clutched the edges of the table until the tiny brush and it's little claws retreated, leaving a patch of burning flesh inside her mouth. She ran her tongue over the area, focusing on soothing the ache rather than the steps that lay ahead.
"Since they've already taken the clothes you were admitted in we can skip a couple steps." Erica continued. "So what I'm going to do now is just a visual investigation of your whole body. I'm looking for maybe dirt or sand, anything that will put together the puzzle pieces. Is that all right?"
Olivia bit at the raw spot on her cheek, staring off towards the floor. The words felt lodged in her throat. She didn't want to move forward. God, she didn't even want to continue with this examination, but in her own mind she didn't have a choice. The cop inside her, and the victim inside her were at war, angrily fighting for dominance in a flurry of emotion that left her feeling weak and exhausted.
Why can't there be another way? She wondered, pressing her eyes shut against tears. Why can't they do it without me?
"It's okay, honey." Amanda assured her, softly, skimming her hand over her back.
Olivia bit at her lower lip, hanging her head lower against her chest to hide the tears flooding into her eyes. It wasn't okay. She wasn't sure it would ever be okay again. She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. She wanted to beg Amanda to take her away from this awful place with it's bland walls and medicinal smell; away from strangers looking at her and touching her; away from every single repercussion of the abduction and subsequent assaults.
She uprooted her hand from the table to reach over and grab Amanda. Her quaking fingers grasped for her body, finding purchase on her outstretched hand. Amanda's hand was warm, almost too warm, but she clenched her fingers around hers.
She didn't want Amanda to look at her, or watch her be broken down into the humiliating, little pieces of rape kit, but simultaneously needed her here to ground her to reality. She felt as if she were lost in the middle of a tumultuous sea, and Amanda was her buoy, a sign of life outside of these dark waters. If she let go, she'd be swept away, forever lost.
"It's okay." Amanda murmured, leaning in closer to her and squeezing her hand. "Just hold on, and it will be over soon."
Olivia clenched Amanda's fingers harder, barely aware that her grip was so tight that the blood seeped from Amanda's flesh. She clutched Amanda's hand to her stomach, hunched over the only lifeline that she had the faith to grab onto.
"Do you need a minute, Olivia?" Erica asked.
Olivia began to shake her head, but Amanda cut her off.
"Yes, please, give us a moment."
"Okay. I'll be back soon." Erica said, rising from the stool.
Olivia wanted to protest. She didn't want to have the chance to break down or to consider changing her mind about the rape kit, but she didn't have the strength to speak out. She barely held onto her quickly spiraling emotions as the door opened and closed, leaving them mercifully alone.
The silence had hardly encapsulated them before Olivia finally took a breath, gasping for air in the same moment as a sob rushed out. With a moan, she sunk into Amanda's body, burying her face into her chest. She smelled like a day's worth of sweat, lingering cigarette smoke, and the sea salt from the ocean, but none of that could've mattered, not even the reminder of the beach house. She hid her face in Amanda's arms, the only safe harbor in this midst of this chaos. Amanda pulled her close, murmuring soft assurances to her as her hand rubbed over her back, before coming to rest on her head.
You have to do this. You have to. You have to. She told herself over and over again even as her mind and body begged her to escape this room, this tiny prison of humiliation.
Long moments passed, filled with the soft whimper of Olivia's cries, and Amanda's raspy, heavy breaths. Her heart raced in Olivia's ear, quietly beating out the tone of terror for the both of them. Olivia listened to each thrum of fear, telling herself that Lewis would be laughing at them if he could see them now. He'd be so pleased, seeing the two NYPD officers who had haunted him the most, brought to their knees by their own devices of investigation.
"We can stop if you want." Amanda finally whispered, her voice rough with barely concealed emotion.
"No…" Olivia whispered, clinging to bare threads of her resolve.
He's laughing at your pain. She told herself. He's laughing at hers.
"I know you want to make sure he goes to prison, but -" Amanda continued, but Olivia cut her off, finally clinging to the dying embers of her determination.
"No, I have to." Olivia insisted, pulling away from her embrace. "I have to."
She gazed up into Amanda's shimmering blue eyes, knowing that she'd find a way to understand. Right now, Amanda wanted to protect her, but as much as Olivia wanted to accept Amanda's rise to her defense, she couldn't.
"I have to make sure he never does this to anyone ever again." Olivia whispered, huskily. "The jurors will need to know what happened to me…. Exactly what happened."
"I know..." Amanda returned, quietly, though Olivia could sense the regret in her tone.
But it didn't matter. She had one last chance to be the cop she always claimed to be, to redeem herself of every selfish and unethical move she'd made up until this moment; and if there was one thing she refused to surrender to Lewis it was her career. She would've offered herself up to him a hundred times and more if only to make it back to SVU. This was her life's work, and if she didn't have that then there would truly be nothing left for her to live for.