A/N: Ah~ but it's been so long since I've uploaded anything. I had a couple of larger story ideas rolling around in my head, and I needed to take time to sort them out. This...isn't one of those ideas. This actually popped into my head at 2 in the morning.
The room was a stark white, and this was its most notable feature. There were no windows, and the only door was practically invisible unless it was open. One of the room's two chairs (the only furniture besides a small table) was occupied by a man whose patience was wearing thin. His muscular arms were crossed over his chest, and he furiously bounced a knee in anticipation of his interview.
Interview… he thought, a look of disgust flashing across his face. It was more of an investigation in his opinion. Every last detail of his life was poked, prodded, drug out into the light and examined. The ordeal sometimes only took minutes. Other times, it could last for hours. He had never seen the same interviewer twice. The interactions were dry and clinical. But even with all that, the pink haired man had volunteered for this, and carried out his end of the bargain dutifully. All he had to do was take some weird pills and answer some questions once a month, and he and his siblings would be taken care of.
He had just raised a well-tanned arm over his head to stretch it out when the door opened. A blonde woman who looked to be around his age came rushing in, clutching her clipboard and various key cards. The man looked her up and down, taking in her attire. A soft pink blouse tucked into a charcoal gray pencil skirt, all worn under a white lab coat. He tried to read what her name was, but was surprised to find it wasn't there, embroidered where every other interviewer had theirs. There was, instead, a logo of a golden key over a pink heart. Her heels clicked in a frenzied pace as she rushed to close the door behind her and make her way to the other seat. There was a hint of a blush to her face, and her golden locks were falling out of a messy bun. Her eyes were chocolate brown and dancing over something on her clipboard.
"Hello, hello, sorry, sorry," she said, setting herself up. "Circumstances elsewhere in the facility kept me detained, but" – s he plopped down with a huff - "here I am. My name is Lucy. I'll be conducting your interview and 6 month assessment. Huh, wow, 6 months. Congratulations. Anyway, let's begin." She pulled a small device from a pocket in her lab coat. She set it on the table between them, and clicked a button on its side, then sat back in her chair.
"This is Doctor Lucy Heartfilia," she dictated while reading over the papers in front of her. "This is the sixth interview with subject number seven-seven-seven. The day is May twenty-eighth; the time is ten a.m., Standard Fiore Time. Can you please verify your full name, sir?"
"Natsu 'Can I get Your Number, Beautiful?' Dragneel," he said easily.
Lucy had been jotting down what he said, but came to an abrupt halt. "Let's just stick with what's on your birth certificate, Mr. Dragneel?" she suggested with an arch of her brow. He shrugged, and she continued. "Mr. Dragneel, it looks like—"
"Natsu," he interjected. "I prefer when you guys call me by my first name. It makes me more comfortable. It makes me more open to answering all your weird questions." This wasn't remotely true. In fact, the pinkette preferred to be as detached from the meetings as possible. But this blonde chick was cute. Plus, she had made him wait. She could stand to have her boundaries pushed, just a bit.
"Fine. Natsu. It looks like after 5 months you still were not feeling any different. Have you noticed any changes in the past 30 days?"
Natsu gave her a somber look. "Yes, actually, some very disturbing ones."
For a fraction of a second, he noticed her eyes widen, but she quickly recovered. "Oh? Why don't you tell me about them?"
"Well," he laced his fingers together behind his head and leaned back in his chair. "I've been having these dreams, weird dreams. They…they last for too long, you know? Like, I can't wake myself up out of them. And I've been sleeping way too long, like twenty four hour stretches. But the worst is the heat."
"The…heat? What kind of heat?"
"Me, my heat. I am hot all the time now. I sweat through two shirts a day. It's almost unbearable."
"That's very interesting. Have you been keeping hydrated, and not spending too much time in the sun?"
"Yeah, Doc, I already figured out water and air conditioning would help. It wasn't an incredible leap of logic."
"Sorry, I just have to be thorough." She smiled up at him. He met her gaze, and noticed there was a tightness around her eyes that didn't seem to be there before.
"Hey, Doc, is everything okay?"
"Uh, yes, Mr. Dragneel, these are normal side effects from the treatment. There's no need to be concerned, we were just anticipating them sooner. You have to help me."
His eyes widened for a moment. "Wh-what did you just say?"
She raised her eyebrows. "Oh, sorry, I must have mumbled. I said you have to excuse me, I need to consult your chart about your lab work up." She returned to flipping through the pages of her clipboard, seeming calm and professional once more.
Natsu knew he'd heard something else. He ran his fingers through his untidy locks, and noticed dampness there. He was sweating again. A lot. Too much. Suddenly the harsh fluorescent lights were stifling. He could tell by the surface of his skin that the temperature in the room itself was not rising. Rather, his own internal furnace was going haywire. "Uh, Doc…Can I…" He cut off as his vision went black momentarily. He was getting ready to fall into unconsciousness, and that meant the dreams. His heart began racing, and he fought to maintain his consciousness.
"Alright Mr. Dragn—I'm so sorry. Alright, Natsu, your levels appear to be in the projected ranges, so we're going to increase your dosage. Other than that we're done for this session, unless you have anything else to add. We've got to get out of here."
Suddenly, he shot up. The motion was a bit too fast for his body to keep up with, and he stumbled backwards, tipping over his chair in the process. "Doc, what the hell are you talking about? What's going on?" he yelled.
Lucy sat in shock. "I just said you could get out of here if you wanted. Are you…are you alright?"
"No, no I'm not," he said frantically. "Something's happening. What's happening to me? I'm going to…the dreams…" he clutched his hair in panic. Suddenly, his tightly coiled muscles relaxed at once, and he fell to the floor. He could vaguely make up the pretty doctor's face wide with fear, and she screamed into a communicator that must have been in her pocket. He couldn't make out what she was saying. The last thought on his mind before he slipped from consciousness was how sorry he was that he never got her number.
A/N: I'm so excited about this story, you have no idea. But let me know what you think? Please review. :3