Alpha's Gifts

Her shoulder hurt so the woman she trusted most took her to see Dr. Saunders. He was so nice. He gave her a lollipop while he examined her.

"I keep recommending a week of rest," he said.

"Our number-one Active?" her handler snorted. "The boss lady would never hear of it."

"I try to do my best," Whiskey informed them both.

"I'm sure you do," Dr. Saunders agreed fondly. Her handler was called away but Whiskey didn't mind; she felt safe with Dr. Saunders. "It looks like you're getting a new friend," he noted.

"Friends are nice," Whiskey observed.

"Yes, they are." Dr. Saunders patched up her shoulder and sent Whiskey on her way. She walked out to find Alpha standing alone watching someone. The new friend Dr. Saunders spoke of, perhaps.

"She's sad," Alpha noted.

"Dr. Saunders is nice," Whiskey replied, twirling her lollipop between her fingers.

She didn't meet her new friend until later. The girl's name was Echo. She was given a male handler. Whiskey saw her in yoga and art class. Sometimes they sat together to eat.

"Alpha is alone," Echo told her during one meal.

"Alpha is always alone," Whiskey responded. "I like to be alone sometimes," she added after a moment.

"It's peaceful," Echo agreed. The two fell silent as they returned to their meal. They were eating noodles in some kind of white sauce, and vegetables. The white sauce tasted so good that Whiskey dipped her vegetables in it.

"Whiskey. Echo." The two glanced up to see a woman in white standing in front of them. "Topher would like to see you both for a treatment," she announced. Their handlers were close by waiting to escort them. The Actives obediently rose to their feet and ascended the stairs together.

Most of the time Whiskey was given treatments by herself, but sometimes another Active was given one with her. One time the other Active was Alpha. This time it was with Echo. Whiskey liked getting her treatments; it was even better with her friends. Friends helped each other out.

One day Whiskey, Alpha and Echo were all taking art class together. They each had a small tree in front of them. Whiskey's tree looked like it had grown again since the last time she was here.

"I like trees," Echo announced to the room. A woman walked up to Whiskey.

"Whiskey, would you like a treatment?"

"Yes, please," she replied.

"Clean up your station and you can go." Whiskey set down her scissors and delicately brushed away the bits of tree she managed to cut away. "She's going out again. She's never going to finish that tree, and it's a small tree."

"That's my girl," her handler boasted proudly. "Number one in the House."

"Whiskey?" She glanced up to see Alpha standing in front of her. She offered him a small smile. "Let Echo be number one." He lashed out and Whiskey cried out at the sudden burst of pain.

It all happened so quickly. Alpha's body was heavy as he pushed her down on her back. She screamed but he didn't stop. The blade was cold and sharp against her skin. It hurt but she didn't know how to stop him. Finally Alpha was pulled off her body.

Things were happening around her. She didn't notice.

All the other Actives in the art room were ushered away. Some of them had dirt on their bodies from the overturned trees. They all decided to take a shower.

There was so much noise. Yelling, screaming, people running… Whiskey sobbed brokenly. It hurt so badly and it wasn't stopping. Someone was there with her but she couldn't make sense of their words. Where was Dr. Saunders?

"Whiskey." It was the woman she trusted most. She recognized the voice, though her vision was blurred by tears and blood. "Whiskey, everything's going to be all right." The woman tried to touch her. Whiskey shrank away, screaming. "Everything's going to be all right," the woman tried again. But it wasn't. Nothing was all right.

Bodies were piling up. Dominic organized those who were left to clear out the ones in the imprint room. Topher watched numbly. For once he wasn't babbling but he was sure to start again once he got over the shock. He had good reason to be shocked: Alpha went nuts on his watch, killed right in front of his eyes.

"Ma'am, Samuelson hasn't checked in yet," Dominic reported.

"Do another sweep," Adelle instructed. He nodded and was about to leave when they were interrupted by Whiskey's handler.

"Ma'am, I can't get Whiskey to calm down. None of the trigger phrases are working." A hopeless silence fell. What could they do for her? She was attacked by someone she was told was a friend. Friends were supposed to help each other out, not hurt each other.

"Can I see her?" Topher asked tentatively. Adelle raised an eyebrow at him. "I think I can help her," he explained. She nodded and Topher followed Whiskey's handler into the art room.

Whiskey was still there. Blood was all over her face and neck. Tears made messy streaks down her cheeks. When she saw Topher her eyes flickered in recognition. She grabbed him by the shirt, pulling him forward. Shakily she buried her face in his stomach.

"Hello, Whiskey," he whispered. He didn't know what else to say.

"I don't understand," she choked out. "I tried to do my best."

"I know," Topher murmured, patting her awkwardly on the head. "I know." She seemed calmer so he extracted her from his shirt. It was stained with her blood now. Her eyes flicked up to meet his.

"I know you," she realized.

"Yes, you do," he agreed. He looked around helplessly. Adelle was hovering, watching. "Whiskey, I'm going to be over there for a while. Your handler will watch you."

"I tried to do my best," was all she said. Topher gave her another awkward pat before moving away.

"The best I can do is wipe her," he told Adelle. "What are we going to do about her injuries with no Dr. Saunders?" Adelle didn't answer. She was looking at Whiskey thoughtfully. "Adelle?" Topher probed.

"We excel in giving people what they need," she said at last, "and what we need is a doctor." She turned to Topher, waiting for him to catch on.

"You want me to-"

"As soon as possible, please." With that she walked off, leaving Topher with the broken doll.

Later Topher was back in the imprint room. They had a backup wedge for Dr. Saunders, of course, but he couldn't use most of it. He was practically building this imprint from scratch. Giving her the right protocol plus memories of Alpha's attack to make sense of her scars, and of course past memories of the departed doctor without the gender distinction.

"Whiskey is ready for her treatment," her handler announced. Topher looked up and saw that the girl's face was cleaned up, a lab coat draped over her shoulders.

"Have a seat, please," Topher instructed her.

"I like my treatments," she told him. He forced a smile as she settled into the chair. He turned on the machine and watched her jerk under the light. Topher watched this happen so many times but somehow this one made his stomach twist.

The machine whirred to a halt. The chair slowly raised up again. Topher waited apprehensively. The woman got out of the chair, straightening her lab coat. She took out the band keeping her hair up in a ponytail and it fell out in gentle curves.

"Dr. Saunders?" Topher asked uncertainly. She turned, her eyes giving him a once-over.

"Change your shirt," she instructed. "That's hardly hygienic." She walked out without another word.

"…Well," Topher breathed out. "Guess that imprint took."