I do not own Law and Order: Special Victims Unit. That would be insanely cool though…

She saw the door handle flicker gently to the right before the door was knocked down in one, swift kick. It only took a second for a trio of police to swarm in and for her to register that she and the john weren't alone anymore.

"Police! Get your hands off the girl!" The man who had entered first yelled, ripping a gun out of his pocket and aiming it at the man on top of her. Obviously shocked by the sudden intrusion, the man did not remove himself until the head officer prodded him with a "now!"

Everything was happening so fast. It was like things were in fast forward, in a swirling, blinding haze of confusion and chaos. And yet, at the same time everything was in slow motion. She had felt as if she had been in that dreaded hotel room for hours. As if she had lived her whole life in there and was never going to get out.

Alarmed at seeing the gun, the man jumped off of her and hastily threw his hands into the air, muttering curses and excuses. She was knocked back into the chest of drawers with a crash, and knew that by tomorrow her leg would be bruised from nicking it on the corner. Although she barely even noticed or cared at this point. She would have so many bruises forming after tonight that one more wasn't going to make that much of a difference.

"Was he attacking you?" the main police officer asked Alicia, now restraining the man.

Alicia managed to nod, stunned and frozen at what was going on.

She caught her balance and leaned herself against the wall, burrowing herself in the little space between the cheap, wooden chest and the television shelf. She was speechless, confused, and hadn't the slightest clue what she should be doing or saying.

Should she be telling the cops what had happened? Giving a statement or whatever? Should she be telling them that this was all a mistake and that the man hadn't done anything wrong? After all, word gets around, and if it spread that you cried wolf, jobs wouldn't be so easy. That could get messy and dangerous too. Johns knew each other, they had each other's back, and they held grudges. What if this guy did get in real trouble and he knew people? She could hurt. Very hurt.

Maybe she should speak up and say that everything that had happened had been entirely consensual. And would that even be a lie? She was getting paid and they had had an agreement. Not about everything, but about the general idea. Was it her job to do what he wanted, whatever and however that was? Did she have a right to say no after a certain point? Where was the line?

She stood there awkwardly, questions penetrating her mind, and simply watched the three police go about their business, each performing a different task.

One read the man his rights and slapped handcuffs on him, arresting and escorting him down the stairs, presumably to a cop car. The man gave her a dirty look, squinting his eyes and flaring his nostrils, screaming incoherent curses at both her and the police that had interrupted his night.

The other two cops pulled out plastic baggies and various other tools for collecting evidence before going about the room, examining things with latex-ridden hands and meticulously slipping things in and out of the bags they brought.

Sure, securing the crime scene and doing whatever else they were doing was great, but what about her? After all, wasn't she considered the victim off all of this? Wasn't she the reason that guy was arrested to begin with? And why had the cops even shown up in the first place? Who or what tipped them off?

"Excuse me," Alicia inquired, finally mustering up the voice and courage to ask a question to one of uniforms tediously dusting for prints.

"Yeah?" the detective looked up, seemingly annoyed.

"Sorry to bother you," Alicia said with a bit of an edge. She shouldn't be treated like an imposition, not right now at least. She had a right to know what was going on. "But what brought you all here?"

"Guest next door called the lobby, complaining of a disturbance. Said they heard a girl yelling, sounding like she was being attacked. Lobby called us, we came here."

"And he got arrested, right?" She asked. She wanted to make sure. She needed to know that she was safe from him, for now at least.

"Yeah, he was arrested," the cop informed her through gritted teeth.

"Is he going to jail?" She didn't know why she was asking all of these questions. Especially in the manner she was asking them. She probably sounded like she was about five years old right now, asking if all of the monsters were out from under her bed. Maybe it was her exhaustion, maybe it was the fact that she knew she was growing up faster than she ought to, or maybe a mixture of both.

"There's a lot of legal stuff that has to happen before we know that," he said as if she was the dumbest person in the entire world. As if she wasn't even worth wasting his breath on because of her stupidity.

"So like what if-"

"Can you just let me do my job, lady?" he asked breathlessly. "Christ, I don't know, I'm just trying to collect my damn evidence."

And then she got it. She understood what was going on and why she was being treated the way she was. She looked down at her outfit. Her revealing, branding outfit that showed she was nothing more than another whore to them.

Just another dirty girl off the street who got what she deserved. She must have been asking for all of it. After all, what rights did she have? Maybe she needed to be taught a lesson or two.

Alicia pulled her tiny, thin jacket around her tighter to try and regain a sense of control and quasi-modesty, but to no avail. She was cold and embarrassed and wished she were anywhere but there.

But at the same time, she was furious. It pissed her off that she was being treated like a second class citizen. Like she deserved to be bleeding and bruised and taken advantage of. They acted as if she was doing this for fun or something. They had no idea. No one understood and she was livid that no one cared.

"Can I just go home?" Alicia asked, irritated. This was a mistake, it was all a mistake. She couldn't handle this investigation. She had to keep taking care of her sisters and herself. She hadn't even asked for this. She didn't call the police. And she wished they could just leave and she could go home and see her sisters and sleep. Why had she screamed? She could have toughed it out and she would have been done by now, back at home. But she made a sound and she was paying for it.

"Not yet."

"Why not?" She snapped.

"Because, you're a witness and a victim," he snapped back, matching her tone, spitting the word 'victim' out, negating the meaning of the word by the hostility and skepticism in his voice.

"Well then aren't you going to take my statement or something?" she asked, a new sharpness replacing the formerly mousy tone in her voice.

"We called SVU to do that, they're better equipped to handle this sort of thing. Deal with this stuff all the time," the man said, bored, without a hint of compassion or emotion whatsoever.

"Great. Well I'm just going to sit over here until they get here," she said, and was met with a thoughtless grunt. Annoyed, she slumped down into the chair in the corner of the room as she watched them gather their precious evidence. She put her palm to her forehead and rubbed her eyes. Even the authorities looked on her with disdain. No one could ever understand. And she was done trying to make them care.

SVU

Olivia Benson was not pleased at the scene in front of her as she walked into the dingy, poorly-lit hotel room. She took in the sight in front of her. There were two cops, moseying around and examining the room. This would not have been a big deal in and of itself had it not been for a young-looking, scantily-dressed girl sitting in the corner, arms crossed and slightly shivering. She was about to give the two detectives a quick lecture about proper etiquette. She was about to give them a curse-ridden and insult-laced speech about prioritizing at the crime scene, but decided against it. That could wait, she decided, her victim could not.

"Hey," she said with a small wave, walking over to the girl, and slipping off her coat. "Here, you look kind of cold," she said, draping the jacket over her shoulders.

"Thanks," the girl mumbled. She was grateful for the new layer of warmth, seeing as her teeth had been chattering for awhile now.

"I'm Detective Benson. I work for the Special Victims Unit, but feel free to call me Olivia, okay?"

"Okay," Alicia replied impassively, wrapping the jacket tighter around herself, fidgeting with the buttons out of discomfort.

"Good," Olivia smiled, kneeling down and flipping open a small, yellow notepad from her pocket and clicking her pen. "Now, I'm going to need to ask you a few questions. Do you think you could answer them for me?"

"I'll do my best," Alicia raked her fingers through her hair. She wanted out of here. Now. This was pointless. No one was going to understand what she was doing or why she was doing it. There was no use in trying to explain it, even if the person asking seemed kind like this woman. She may be sweet, but deep down she knew that she couldn't really know. It was impossible to get it if you hadn't been in the situation. And so while she admired Olivia for trying, she already despised her ignorant pity.

"Great," Olivia smiled again. "Can I start off by asking your name?"

"Alicia Harris."

Olivia nodded. "Did someone hurt you tonight, Alicia?"

She nodded, staring at a point on the wall, refusing to make eye-contact with the lady.

"Who attacked you?"

She shrugged. "I don't exactly know his name. I didn't ask," she looked down at her hands. "Why does it matter? You have him in custody, don't you?"

The detective nodded. "Yes, but it's important for you to identify him. It's procedural, for legal purposes."

Alicia sighed, "well, I didn't get his name," she said quieter.

"That's fine," Olivia held a hand out. "That's okay, we can do a line-up and-"

"Whoa, a line-up? I don't have time for a line-up, I have to get home," Alicia argued, shooting up, suddenly remembering everything she had to do. She didn't have time for this. She glanced over at the clock on the chest. It was already a little past three. She had to get home, check on the girls. She couldn't go do some line-up. And court was definitely out of the question.

"Alicia, you have to somehow identify him," Olivia gently pushed her back down.

"Why?" she asked in almost a whine. "You have him, what do you need me for?"

"Alicia, unless you ID him and tell us what happened, the charges probably aren't going to stick. Without you, he could go free. Back onto the streets, back hurting other girls"

"Look, at this point, I really don't care. I just-I have to get home," she stood up again.

"You have to tell me what happened, sweetie," Olivia replied compassionately.

"I don't have to do anything. And I really need to go."

"Alicia, you can't leave. I'm sorry," Olivia said apologetically, delicately grabbing Alicia's arm.

"And why is that?" Alicia ripped her arm out of her grasp. "I said that I don't want your help, okay? Why can't you just drop it?"

"Because," Olivia sucked in a breath and sighed before continuing. "Because if you don't I'll have to arrest you," she said with a soft bluntness.

"Arrest me?" Alicia humorlessly scoffed with a mixture confusion and anger. "Why the hell would you be arresting me?"

"For prostitution," Olivia replied, letting it sink in. "Now I don't want to do that, but if you don't cooperate, I won't have a choice. So please, Alicia, I'm begging you. Just talk to me."

"Seriously? You know what, no! Screw you! Screw all of you! I'm the one who was attacked and I'm being treated like a criminal? You've got to be kidding me," she spat bitterly.

"Alicia, please just-"

"Forget it. I'm not telling you anything," Alicia replied haughtily. And no, it most certainly was not the smartest decision she'd ever made, but she couldn't help it. What was happening was wrong. She wasn't about to be bullied into talking. Why should she be forced into saying something she didn't want to say? Let's not forget she was the one being attacked!

Olivia closed her eyes and let out a sad breath. "Alicia Harris you're under arrest," she said, spinning her around and calmly locking her into handcuffs. "You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney, if you cannot afford one, one will be appointed to you…"

Alicia shook her head and allowed herself to be led outside by Olivia.

She couldn't imagine how this night could get worse. But somehow she knew that it would.

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Shout out to justliziam for proofreading this chapter and giving me some awesome suggestions! Everyone give her a round of applause, okay? Okay. Thanks.