Chapter 4 BOTH SIDES NOW

The way Malva skipped down the stairway looked oddly cheerful for a prisoner, Vikram notices. He's curious, but it only takes him a moment, once she approaches him, for the man to notice the forced confidence on her face. Her eyes are red as if she has been crying. And he wants to know why - after all, he hasn't done anything to her yet - but asking so soon feels like it would be useless.

She would most likely lie and he would most likely be frustrated.

As soon as Mal reaches the bottom of the stairs, V waves her over from a door in the corridor to her right. He's wearing a dark red shirt in the same shade as hers, instead of that white one from the night before. However, as seems to be the norm for the man, his expression remains cold and unreadable. But that was never going to affect Malva's temperament.

"Good morning!" she exclaims excitedly while walking in. The man is standing by a big dining table and has his back towards her when Mal walks in. "Did you have a good night asleep?"

Vikram's movements slow for a second before he shakes his head in mild incredulity. When he turns to face her, the look on his face is flat.

"Sit down," he says and gestures to a leather armchair. Mal sees a different metal platter on the table. This one is filled with tubes, syringes, needles and ampoules. "We'll start soon."

She slows her pace and looks curiously at the armchair, which has leather straps on its armrests and onto its front legs. It looks a lot like some torture device, or...

"Should I choose a safe word before we start...whatever this is going to be?" She looks back at him with a chuckle. "I feel like I was getting worried about the wrong thing."

Vikram lets out an exasperated sigh as he fills one of the syringes with a translucent liquid.

"I said sit down," he looks up at her just as he takes the air out of the syringe, and begins to approach her. Looking rather calm, despite the clear bite in his tone. "Didn't you hear me?"

Vikram's face is stoic as he sizes Mal down, his gaze is enough to send a small shiver down her spine. And while Malva would usually push others' limits a bit longer than that, she barely has the self-control to not back away under his intense stare.

As a matter of fact, all her efforts to remain impassive are in vain the moment he steps into her space.

"This shouldn't be a painful experience," he explains. Vikram grabs her left arm roughly, but quickly. Mal is so surprised she barely feels the press of the needle against her skin; barely feels whatever it was the man injected her with entering her bloodstream. "I need answers. And I need you not to lie."

"I'm not particularly feeling like being honest," she smiles through a wince; eyes flooded again but no tears fell this time. "I hate needles."

Vikram pulls the syringe back after injecting its liquid. Completely unaffected.

"Did any needle ever do something bad to you?" He asks in a low, calm voice. Almost playful.

"Uh, yeah? It did just hurt my arm," Mal grunts, finally sitting on the armchair the man has been pointing at.

"No, that was actually me," Vikram has the audacity to look down at her all smug, and Mal really feels like biting a piece off his face. However, he was clearly a smart man and kept a reasonable distance while fastening the straps around her wrists. "Not the needle's fault."

She frowns up at him and gestures toward the straps with her chin, "Can you make them tighter?"

"They're to keep you from harming yourself, nothing else." Vikram positions another chair right in front of hers before continuing. "There are two tests before connecting a subject to the CORTEX, which is the reason you are here. Normally, I would do a physical exam first. But given the circumstances prior to you being here, I'll just assume you are in great physical condition and we will skip to the psychological evaluation. There's no need to make them tighter."

Oh, how kind of him. Mal feels something scratching at the back of her mind again. So curious about his new pet.

She tensed up. That voice is at the back of her head again.

Yes. It's me. It makes her vision blur. Mal's head feels heavy and foggy. It looks like I'll be allowed to leave. Not thanks to you, clearly.

"My- my head. Damn it..." Her head lolls forward. "Everything is moving so...slow."

Vikram is finishing with the straps on her ankles when he looks up at her.

"Don't worry, it's a normal effect of Amytal. You'll recover in a few moments." He pushes her head back up by her chin.

Mal sees him glowing in several shades of red. It reminds her of that night in that ice-cold room back in the locked ward; back when dying felt like the only possible way out.

"You really should tighten these up, doctor," she gasps weakly. "And... stay out of my reach."

Would you please stop trying to protect everyone from me? It's not like it ever works.

"It's already tight enough," Vikram assures and just remains quietly sitting in front of her. He's close enough that, if Mal's

hands weren't tied to the chair, she could just reach out to him and touch his chest. "I'll start by asking you some simple questions. To make sure the serum is already working."

She nods absentmindedly.

"What is your name?"

"Malva," she replies robotically. "No last name."

"What colour are your eyes?"

"Black."

"What is the date..."

And she just goes on and on, answering every question right away. Anything Vikram has to ask her. Without even blinking. Whatever that thing is that he injected her with, it worked fast. And it worked pretty well. Mal's mind is easily letting every piece of information requested slip out like an open faucet. The oddest part is that she doesn't feel bad about it despite always feeling so strongly about sharing personal information. But like this? Mal feels nothing.

"So, tell me... Why did Louis go through so much trouble to get you?" Vikram asks, with slightly more interest than in any previous questions.

It's the last thing Mal hears him say though.

Finally, there's a sigh. Now it's my turn.

"We go way back," Mal's tone switches as she says that. She licks her lips slowly, and her unsteady breathing begins to even out; but her tongue continues moving slowly over her dry, cracked lips.

"Why were you in the locked ward? What did you do?" Vikram pushes. It only takes him a moment to decide is safer for both of them that he focuses on her eyes instead of her lips.

There's a brief moment of silence where all the tension seemingly leaves her body at once. In the blink of an eye, her shoulders sag and she lets out this long relaxed breath. And that isn't a reaction Vikram has ever seen with Amytal.

"What do you think betrayal would taste like if it was some food, V?" Malva is looking him directly in the eyes now. "This medicine you used on me makes my tongue taste a bit like metal. Maybe that's what betrayal would taste like?"

Stunned, he doesn't say anything,

"But I guess... Anything can taste like betrayal, hm?" She continues. Leaning back, Malva stares up at the ceiling, gaze fixed on the chandelier - Vikram notices she is making that into a habit. But something is wrong; different. The girl's tone has darkened. Almost as if she's become somebody else.

"What did that thing your brother did to you taste like?" Mal's dark eyes glance at him very briefly, and Vikram's hands tighten into fists at the mention of his brother. "You know, the whole trying to kill you in your sleep and setting your wife on fire, I mean. I bet that was the type of betrayal with quite the bitter taste."

She chuckles when she notices Vikram glaring at her.

"Oh, don't look at me like that," She shrugs. Still laughing, albeit softly. "It's not my fault that you didn't notice."

"What didn't I notice?" He asks, gritting his teeth. Rage suddenly flooded his senses.

"That he was out to get you," she blinks at him slowly, looking as if she's making a point so obvious he might as well be completely stupid for not noticing. And he hadn't noticed. "Oh, come on! Don't try to deny it. You still move like a predator, despite trying to hide it, V. You knew what was going to happen from the very beginning, you saw how he looked at her. You simply refused to believe in your beautiful silver eyes and those instincts you keep trying to choke down."

She spoke fast; voice shaking, heavy with so many emotions Vikram couldn't categorize all of them. The most obvious was anger. She knew what she was talking about. She knew.

How does she know? Vikram asks himself. It's not possible.

"You could have stopped him before he even became aware of what he wanted. Being what you are, you could have. But you just let him fool you and hurt you and kill her. You needed him to give you a reason to start."

Malva stops suddenly, maybe to catch her breath. Her eyes glimmer with a sick form of realization. It makes a pit form in Vikram's stomach and he does not appreciate it.

"Wait a second," she looks at him with a smug smile plastered on her face. "You might have simply enjoyed the feeling of being deceived... If you already knew what you were by then and all you needed was a motive... If you made him give you one, then Laura's death was also your doing."

"Who..." Vikram pauses for a moment, speechless. The only noise in the room is the sound of her fast breathing. "What are you?"

"That's the first real question you've asked me so far. And who knows?" She chuckles. "We are what we are, V. Monsters, I guess."

Vikram watches as she closes her eyes.

"Oh, poor girl. She's still struggling to come out at this very moment, but she's so weak she can't."

As a doctor, Vikram had seen a lot. But nothing had ever come close to this. Nothing could have prepared him for something like that. He simply did not know what was happening in front of him. It was far beyond what he would ever have expected such a test to go like.

"She's worried about you," Mal chuckles again as if all of that was just a big fun game.

"She?" Vikram questions, confused.

"Mal, duh?" she quips, once again making it sound as if his questions had been too stupid to bear so far. "She doesn't trust me. And we have an agreement that I can only kill if it's a job, but I would enjoy biting a piece off of you anytime."

Suddenly it was as if a lightbulb went on on top of his head. Vikram was more ashamed than he would ever admit. But he definitely should have seen that coming. "You and Mal are separate, but share the same body."

"Yep. Golden star for our smart boy," she sighs deeply. "You know, you should probably have listened to that jerk, Jimenez – 'give the girl some time to recover, or else she'll break' – he said. Instead, you drugged her to get some stupid answers to even stupider questions." Mal pauses again and looks him in the eyes. "You could at least have given her something to eat, you know? Mal is kind of dumb and rarely notices her own needs. But it's been a few days at least," she let out a short laugh. "If this body grows too weak, its strong mind won't serve you for anything."

She looks at the leather straps keeping her in place, then looks up at Vikram's face and shrugs, "You are a smart man, though. If these cursed straps weren't tied this snugly, I would have loved to rip your face off with my teeth. You look kind of hot, and so damn delicious with that shocked expression on." Malva managed to move a bit forward on the chair; getting as close to him as the straps would allow her to.

Looking intently at the little bits of exposed skin on his neck, she breathes in deeply. Closes her eyes and hums almost happily. Then she breathes out and whispers, "A word of advice: Mal will not be of use to you if she's dead. And even if she survives what you are planning, she will never tell you what you want to know."

"Then you'll answer," It was getting difficult to sound confident in front of that version of the girl.

"Will I...? Well, maybe I will..." She sang, breathing in deeply again. This time, even slower. And Vikram finally understood what she was aiming to do: she was trying to provoke him. "You are the stronger one, right? You can always beat me into it. And I wouldn't mind."

"You are insane. It's clearly no use talking to you in this state," he says, with a hint of concern in his voice. But mostly only feeling resigned to the failure of his little experiment. He isn't even talking to her anymore; he's actually making an observation for himself.

"I certainly was not expecting a personality disorder," he gets to his feet and goes for the notebook he had left on the table before, to jot down his newest findings. "This wasn't on the files."

"That's because those files are about me, not about her," she says and leans back against the chair again. The girl suddenly looks bored. "You want to know why she was in the locked ward? It wasn't her fault. It was me. I got us locked in there because I hated those crying children from the upper ward. I much preferred the agonizing groaning coming from the locked ward during the night."

Vikram put down the notebook to look at her.

"You want to know why Louis chose me? He didn't have a choice. They're onto him in the hospital. He needed someone he knew could be used in your little experiments, but it had become too risky for him to smuggle basketcases out of the locked ward. Had I met him in person before accepting that job I wouldn't be here, but it turned out he outsmarted me without even realizing how. And now here I am. Stuck in this chair. With a psychopath and his truth serum. Waiting for him to poke into my brain with his gigantic needle while my body starves."

She made sure to put a lot of resentment into the word "needle"; he notices. And it's rather amusing that, despite the clear contrast in those personalities, some aspects were still the same.

This side of Malva is violent and vulgar. She managed to disgust and excite him at the same time.

"Ugh, guess it's almost time for me to go."

Vikram chooses to ignore her, turning his attention back to his notes in silence. Deep in thought, he pays no mind to the girl while she rants about how her weaker side is in pain, and how her body is dying.

It might have lasted almost thirty minutes, but eventually, Malva finally came back, with a cough and a groan of discomfort. Gasping for air, like someone who had been underwater for too long.

Vikram finally looks up from his notes and at her just as she rasps out;

"I- I could really use some water," she coughs again. And Vikram barely has the time to be surprised at the sight of blood with how quickly her face turns pale. Her voice is almost a whisper with how weak it sounds "...unless that's not- if it isn't allowed..."

She looks at him in pain, before her body tries to curl into a ball.

"Are we still doing- are we still doing a test?" she questions in a low, strained voice. She looks confused. "Yeah- uh... let's just- just continue later."

She doesn't seem to be asking him, Vikram realizes. He stops putting his research papers away.

She wasn't meant to bleed. Not yet; not for a while. So now he knew something else was wrong and he was going to have to fix it before they could proceed with tests with the CORTEX.

Watching the girl suddenly look so pitiful, Vikram thinks about all that her other self had to say. She was clearly right regarding their current physical condition; Malva's body was weak. However, lack of food would never manage to cause that.

Still, it was fascinating.

This one is a completely different person, he thinks, observing the girl's tired features. She's turned so pale so suddenly he's sure that a physical check was going to have to happen sooner rather than later.

Vikram approaches her and starts undoing the straps.

"Do you remember getting hurt?" He pushes her forehead to force her into leaning back on the chair when she started to loll forward. Her skin felt clammy and warm despite being pale. She was seemingly struggling to even open her eyes in order to look at him.

"H-Hurt?" Is the last thing she says before passing out.

Vikram sighs in frustration and glares down at her unconscious form. The other Mal was correct. They might have a perfectly strong mind for him to work with, but her body was clearly not going to make it unless he made sure of it.

Vikram easily picks the girl up and carries her back to the room he had previously given her.

He places her on the bed and starts making a mental list of all he was going to need in order to fix her.

It shouldn't be too difficult, he thinks. But then it occurs to him:

He hadn't cared for anyone in a very long time.