the kit
characters: Violet and Becka setting: the clinic, late afternoon
By the time Wu returned to her room, Becka had managed to get most of her stuff together in her laundry basket. There were still things that needed done, but she’d been avoiding some of them, opting to thoroughly clean her bathroom as a way to avoid the main room. She hadn’t changed her clothes, but at least she’d combed her hair and pulled it back up far neater than it had been before. Doing so revealed the hint of a bruise at her temple that went back into her hair where she’d been punched in the head the night before. She’d done her best to ignore it, trying hard not to let the anxieties and fears debilitate her.
It wasn’t easy, but she was trying.
She’d walked in silence as Wu escorted her down to the clinic, glad at least that the time outside was minimal. She just didn’t feel up to trying to socialize. When they reached the clinic, Becka wasn’t sure whether or not she was relieved that it seemed Cal had stepped out. It was going to be awkward and uncomfortable no matter who performed the exam, but she had a feeling it would be just the tiniest bit less awkward if it was a woman doing it. Although who knew if Violet would even feel qualified to do it. She just wanted it done and over with.
“Violet,” she greeted her, trying for a smile that fell far short. She closed the door, wanting as much privacy for this conversation as she could get. Only she just stood there awkwardly, a few feet into the room, words failing her. It made her feel like a coward, and she hated herself for it.
Violet looked up and was immediately frowning due to the tone of Becka's voice, and of course the lack of a smile there. The expression she'd gotten wasn't 'right'. She glanced over her--habit when people presented even a little oddly to her--and she noticed what looked like the start of a bruise on her head. "Becka, are you alright?" she asked, setting down her notebook and standing.
What could she possibly say to that? Becka wasn’t all right, not even close, but as she stood there, watching Violet as the other nurse took a quick visual assessment of her, she found herself struck mute. Her eyes shone, but she wouldn’t cry. Not right now. She shook her head, the only way she found she could answer the question at that moment.
Walking over, Violet was figuring something was very Wrong. Big ole capital letters Wrong. So, she reacted accordingly. Which meant professionally. “How about you take a seat,” she suggested gently. “And you can tell me what’s happening in your own time.” she added. “Can I get you some water?”
At the suggestion, Becka nodded, moving to sit down in the chair near the door. “Umm, yeah, sure,” she answered about the water even her stomach rolled at the thought of drinking anything at all. Her stomach ached with the lack of sustenance, so it would probably be a good idea to at least try to sip at it. “Is Cal around?” she asked, and it wasn’t entirely a deflection from what she was going through.
"Not at current. Do you need me to get him?" Violet answered Becka, before going to get Becka a glass of water. Bringing it over, she held it out to the blonde, still going over everything she could see--which wasn't actually much, sadly. "Here you are." she cued verbally.
Becka shook her head quickly at that. No, it was better if Cal wasn’t here for this. “No, no. I mean, not unless you don’t... or can’t...” She couldn’t finish the thought, not just yet. Finishing it would mean saying just what she was here for, and she didn’t feel even close to brave enough to say those words just yet. She took the water, relieved that at least her hand was mostly steady. She’d had more than enough time to calm herself down and work herself up several times over, but even though she felt sick at the thought of saying what had happened, she was feeling calmer in a way than she had this morning. “Thanks,” she said before lifting the cup to her lips and taking a small sip, just enough to wet her mouth.
Violet noted the near-but-not-quite steadiness of Becka's hand, and added it to her mental tally. She gave Becka a minute, not wanting to rush her, and she also gave her a little space, walking over to the intake clip boards, to start jotting things down. "In your own time." she told Becka, voice gentle, soft. It wasn't a push, but a clear 'you're going to need to do more than sit there all day' cue for her. She was happy to wait for Becka to feel prepared to speak, but it was going to need to happen.
Although she’d not had a whole lot of experience dealing with rape victims, she had just enough to be able to recognize what she was doing, how she was avoiding things. “I need...” she began, staring down into the cup of water. Do not avert your eyes. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes briefly before forcing herself to meet Violet’s gaze. “I need an exam, a...” It took every ounce of bravery she thought she had in her to get the next words out, “A rape kit.” She wanted to look away, to crawl under one of the desks and curl up and pretend she was anywhere else, but she kept her gaze steady even as a lone tear slipped from the corner of one eye.
Internally, Violet felt a sick roll to her stomach, along with a rush of emotions she put a hard clamp down on. None of it showed, as she merely nodded, and went to retrieve one. "Have you bathed, or changed clothes in the meantime, Becka?" she asked, voice still as soft and soothing as possible, while still maintaining her air of professionalism. What she wanted right now was for Becka to feel secure--that this was being handled by someone who knew what she was doing, that it would be Okay.
Becka trusted that Violet knew what she was doing, that she would remain professional and do the job. “No... I mean, I... haven’t bathed. My underwear and pants are fresh, but he... he took the others off. I have them, they’re in my room. I should have brought them down, I didn’t think about it. I should have thought about it.” It was a little ridiculous how that one little thing made her feel like as much of a failure as it did.
"We can get them as soon as you are settled." Violet assured her. It was the first step. Which Becka should have known, but she was traumatized, so she couldn't even for a second blame her for doing the wrong things. "Don't worry about it." she added lightly, with a small smile. She got a wooden scraper out, walking back over. "Would you like to sit on the exam table?" she asked, knowing it would be best on the table. "It's time to get some samples." she said, walking through the process slowly.
Even with the reassurance, Becka found her eyes filling with moisture. She was smarter than this. She knew the procedure, knew what to do, and she’d failed in this. She didn’t say anything more about it, though. It wasn’t worth dwelling on it, not with knowing what was to come. The exam table really wasn’t where she wanted to be, but she knew it would be the best place for this to be done. “Yeah, I can.” She forced herself to stand up, to cross to the exam table and sit on it. One step at a time; she could get through this.
Violet felt for her. She was thinking longer term, mind on both the task at hand and the strong plea she was going to make to the administration the second she was done here. Putting gloves on, Violet started to get the scrapings from underneath all of Becka's fingernails. "If you feel like talking, I'm listening." she told her, an invitation if she needed to get anything off her chest.
Would it be better or worse to talk about it? She didn’t know, but just sitting there, watching what Violet was doing would give her far too much opportunity to think about what else this exam would entail, and she just didn’t want to focus on that. It was going to be difficult enough to go through it without working herself up thinking about it beforehand. “The locks on our doors aren’t good enough,” she began in a soft voice, looking down at her hand where Violet was scraping under her nails. “I didn’t wash my hands. It’s second nature to do it all the time, but I didn’t today. I don’t remember scratching him, but I might have. He held my hands by the wrists behind my back, and I... I struggled, so I might’ve got him, but I don’t know.” Talking about things wasn’t easy, but she knew that not talking would be so much worse.
Violet listened, noting every detail down mentally, then when she was done scraping Becka's fingernails, she jotted things down on her chart, before she got the clippers out to cut Becka's nails. "This all took place in your room? Do you know what time, at all?"
While Violet wrote things down on the chart, Becka sat in silence, waiting and trying not to think too much. “Yeah, my room,” she confirmed with a small nod. “It’s not gonna be my room anymore, though. Wu said we were switching rooms, and...” And Wu just wasn’t someone she thought one should go against, especially on something she didn’t actually have a problem doing. “No, I have no idea. It was during the blackout. I mean, the storm was still really loud, and I’d been awake for a little while after the lights went out. I had some candles, so I stayed up and wrote some letters home, and then I went to bed,” she explained.
"It's good you are switching rooms, though I would recommend leaving the scene as is as much as possible--with the jobs being posted and the like, there will be police, I'm guessing, and I'm positive they would want a look at the scene." Violet suggested. She put her samples aside and started to get the hair samples she needed from Becka. "Do you have anyone who can stay with you? Or would you entertain the idea of staying down in the clinic for a little while? We’ve got better security down here."
“Jobs?” Becka asked, immediately distracted by that. She hadn’t been on the computer at all, had wanted to avoid communication with anyone, so she had no idea what Violet was talking about. “I cleaned my bathroom, but I wore gloves, and he didn’t go in there.” She’d needed to do something, to try to keep herself occupied. She shook her head at the first question, then stilled as she considered the second. “Umm, I don’t know. Maybe I could stay down here.” It would feel weird to sleep down here, but she was right, the security was infinitely better. They were getting closer to the most difficult part of the examination, and she was trying her hardest to stay calm and focused on anything else for it.
"The administration have set forth a list of occupations to occupy. You and I are automatically 'employed' what with being nurses and actively working down here." Violet explained. "But mentioned there was people to enforce laws, society, stuff like that. So, since that's happening, I'd very much try to keep things as undisturbed as possible. Give them the case right up front." she suggested. "And absolutely anything you may need? I'm here." she added, a firm, confident note in her voice. She meant it, absolutely. Though she did have to share her other very strong opinion.
Setting the hair samples aside with the scrapings and nails, Violet went to get the swabs to get samples from Becka. She looked at her features for a long moment, before she continued. "Becka, I think you should contact the administration and have them remove you from here as soon as possible." she told her, voice gentle.
What Violet said when she came back was not even close to what Becka was expecting, and she just stared blankly at her for a moment. And then when it seemed like it had processed, she shook her head hard. “No, I can’t even think about that yet. Wu... Wu’s going to look into it, and if he can find out who... If I can know, I need to know who did this.” And even though her stomach was in knots and she felt a bit sick, her expression was firm on this point. It was the only thing she knew for certain just then.
"And you can tell them to let you know while you're back in your nice, safe, great prison you came from, where your family can see you and help you through this, where you'd have a trauma counselor, someone to help you through this properly, while not here in possible danger." Violet said, reasonably. Internally, she was wondering what the fuck Becka was thinking. Because in absolutely no way did that make proper sense. She kept her reaction to herself, showing no sign of it, but she was going to be talking to Cal about it as soon as she could. It was possibly a reaction to the trauma she hadn't seen before. But she also wasn't a doctor. So, it was possible that it was something he had seen, or had at least heard of. "You've been the victim of a serious crime, they would have no legal grounds to withhold that information from you."
Violet paused to get the samples she needed and get them put aside, then she came back over, knowing this was the most traumatic part of the test for most people. She didn't tell Becka to lie back yet, however, not wanting to rush her. Especially when she was having the reaction she was.
Although Violet's tone was very calm and reasonable, Becka couldn't help the insecure twitch at the way she'd worded things. There was no rational reason for it beyond the fact that she just wasn't in the best emotional frame of mind at the moment. "Legal grounds? I'm not so sure they care about legal grounds,” she began with a sigh, shaking her head. She wanted to have that kind of faith in the Administration, but she couldn’t bring herself to just yet. “I mean, they said Ryan and Caroline transgressed against people here, but didn't tell whoever it was anything about it.”
She hated this feeling of distrust. It felt completely unnatural. “I don't trust them to tell me anything, and it's not like they know what happened. I trust Wu. If anyone can figure out what happened, it's probably him, and at least he won't keep it from me." It might not make any sense, but Wu was the only hope she felt like she had, and she couldn't even think about moving forward just yet. Once he'd done what he could? Then she couldn't imagine staying, because she didn't want to be here, but she felt like she had to let Wu do what he could first.
Violet fell quiet. Mostly because she felt like Becka was grasping at straws, and she didn't know why. And that was an issue for Cal to deal with, not her. So she fell back on being professional. "Please lie back." she said, voice still soft and light, not pushing.
It didn’t matter if her thought processes made sense to anyone else; they made sense to her, and Becka didn’t feel like she had to defend herself to anyone, not when no one could understand just what she was going through just then. At the directive, she laid back, taking in a deep breath and closing her eyes as she waited for the most invasive part of the exam to be over.