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The Doctor's senses slowly became aware of the world around him, but he was not yet ready to open his eyes. He enjoyed the relaxed state that was also blessedly pain free. He listened to a soft whirring sound that he imagined to be a fan blowing warm summer air. With a small smile, he drew in a breath and found it to be disturbingly sterile. Another sniff and he detected the faint odor of chemicals, the kind of chemicals found in a hospital.
He eyes flew open and he instantly regretted such a drastic move. The bright light reflected mercilessly off the stainless steel walls and stainless steel ceiling acting like lances driving into his skull. He pinched his eyes closed and moaned in the relief the darkness his eyelids gave him.
"He's waking up," said a woman in an even tone. Her voice sounded distant in the Doctor's hazy mind.
Cold fingers touched the Doctor's face and he flinched as his right eye was forced open. The blinding light of a pen light shined in his eye and the pain it caused burned like fire through his head. With a groan, he turned his head away from the light and out of the chilly fingers.
"Hello, whatever you are," the woman said evenly as she bent over the Doctor.
The Doctor did not like her tone of voice at all. It sounded... predatory. He slowly turned his head and opened one eye. Peering at the middle-aged woman with sandy blonde hair, he noticed the calculating look in her green eyes. He also noticed she wore a white lab coat that was all too hospital-like.
He did have a particular distaste for waking up hospitals. The last time he did that he ended up dying at the hands of Grace and every other time he went to a hospital, something bad would happen. Well, at least there didn't seem to be any cats about. "Who are..." he swallowed as his voice cracked in his dry throat and turned into a hoarse cough.
"Good. He can talk." She glanced up to someone else.
A new face entered the Doctor's view, drawing his weary gaze away from the woman to an older man with graying hair wearing the same type of white lab coat as the woman. "I'm Doctor Friedman," he said with a smile that seemed just as predatory as the woman's too.
"And I am Doctor Bolt." The woman introduced herself with a smile that seemed out of character for her. "Why don't you tell us your name?"
"Water," the Doctor's voice rasped, "please."
Friedman reached over to a small metal table next to the bed and held a cup of water to the Doctor's dry lips.
The water felt cool and refreshing on the Doctor's dry and smoke scorched throat. He emptied the contents in a couple of swallows. "Thank you," he said after the cup was taken away. "Allo. I'm the Doctor." He offered a small, friendly smile.
"Is that a British accent?" Bolt asked. "Is that where you come from?"
"Do I have a British accent?" Thanks to the water, he found it much easier to talk and despite the skin on his right cheek feeling tight, talking helped his mind come back into focus. "I do spend a lot of time there, so I suppose it only makes sense that I picked up the accent. Now that we're getting to know each other a bit, why don't you tell me where I am?"
"That is confidential." Friedman answered. "Especially since you just appeared in our lobby. How did you do that?"
"I just appeared?"
"In a large blue box that was apparently on fire."
The TARDIS. Memories of the explosion, smoke and fire flooded through the Doctor's thoughts and he wondered if his beloved ship was somehow alright. He also wondered if her doors were safely closed. He certainly didn't want these people crawling around inside the time machine as he was sure that an alien spaceship would be of high interest to anyone. Since he didn't recall leaving the TARDIS, he had to assume the doors were open.
The Doctor glanced between the two doctors with a bit of apprehension.
He looked about the room and realized that he was not in fact in a hospital. The stainless steel interior spoke of a place much worse than a hospital. The faint whirring sound he heard as he awoke caught his attention and he saw that it was not a fan at all but a liquid separating machine that was currently filled with an all too familiar orange red blood.
With a quick glance at his arm, he saw a hypodermic needle buried in his vein pumping in a clear liquid he knew to be simply saline. In the same glance, he also noted that he was no longer dressed in his clothes. He now wore a white hospital gown, that he was pretty sure was not flattering on him at all, and his wounds were cleaned and dressed.
Still, he was in some sort of laboratory. The last sort of place he ever wanted to be. He would take a hospital over some lab any day.
With a moment's hesitation, he bolted upright... or rather he tried to bolt upright. He cried out as pain shocked through his chest hard enough to make him flop back down. Clutching his ribs with the arm that didn't hurt, he snarled in frustration. He wasn't going anywhere and to help seal that fact home, Friedman grabbed the Time Lord's shoulders and pinned him to the bed.
"Get the restraints," Friedman said to Bolt, then looked down into the Doctor's eyes. "You're hurt too badly to be fighting us. Let us take care of you."
Words straight out of a nightmare the Doctor hoped he would wake from any second now. But of course he knew that this nightmare was all too real. "Let me up!" He demanded with a fury in his eye as he glared at Friedman.
Bolt immediately rushed away and returned all too quickly with white, padded straps and cuffs. She easily held the Doctor's arms and legs down in his weakened state to slip the restraints into place and cinch them tight. In a matter of seconds, the Time Lord was strapped to the bed.
"Release me!" The Doctor shouted with anger, frustration and pain in his voice. He cursed his injuries and he cursed his temporary weakness because of those injuries. Until his body healed, he was stuck there and he knew it. Fortunately, his body was a quick healer.
Friedman released the Doctor's shoulders and stood up, straightening his lab coat. "I don't think you are in a position to go anywhere." The scientist smiled. "We still have to get to know each other."
"You want to know who I am?" The Doctor lifted his head and glared at his captors. "I'm the Doctor," he said in a threatening tone.
Friedman and Bolt glanced at each other and shook their head. Obviously, they had never heard of him. "You've already said that. Is it supposed to mean something?" Bolt asked the Time Lord and crossed her arms expectantly.
He let his head fall back to the thin mattress and sighed. So much for that, the Doctor thought as he pursed his lips. All he could really do now was wait and heal.
"So you're a doctor," Friedman said with genuine curiosity. "What kind of doctor would that be?"
"I'm not a doctor. Well, most of the time," the Time Lord answered with a roll of his eyes. "I'm just the Doctor."
"I see," Friedman said in the way a psychologist would speak to his patient. "Is that a code name for you? Were you developed by the British government as some sort of weapon?"
"What?" The Doctor asked and arched his eyebrow. "No! It's my name. Simple as that."
"What are you?" Bolt asked rather bluntly. Her demeanor made it clear that she was getting impatient with the small talk banter and wanted to move on to the more important details.
"I'm not anything," the Doctor said defiantly with a nonchalant shrug of the shoulder that didn't hurt.
"Not anything? You're blood is orange and you have two hearts beating in that broken chest of yours," she pointed her finger at the Doctor in a threatening manner, "and you're not anything? Care to try again?" She raised an impatient eyebrow and glared at him expectantly.
For a moment, the Doctor glared at the woman as he considered the situation he was in. He knew good and well that these scientists were aware that a creature that wasn't quite human had literally landed in their laps. The question is, how was he going to get out of here without revealing too much?
Maintaining eye contact with Bolt, his expression softened. "Well, alright. Let's see. What am I? Oh. I'm a guy who likes bananas. Yep. That's me. Banana man. Sounds like a superhero name, doesn't it? Na na na na na Banana Man!" He flashed Bolt a cheeky grin.
Bolt clearly failed to see the humor in the Doctor's answer as she glared rather unhappily at the Time Lord. "Don't tell us then," she said in a dark tone. "Suit yourself. Either way, I am going to learn everything there is to know about you."
The evil look in the woman's face made the Doctor frown as he watched her walk away to the other side of the laboratory. After a moment, he turned his gaze on Friedman. "Well, since it looks like I'm going to be staying here for a little bit, can you at least tell me where I am?"
"Like I said," Friedman said. "That's confidential. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must get started on some tests." With that, he turned and walked away.
Oh, just dandy, the Doctor thought as he stared at the ceiling. While he didn't learn the name of the facility, he did notice the red and white logo on each of the doctor's lab coats. The name 'Umbrella Corporation' was printed underneath the stylized umbrella logos, and the name didn't mean anything to him. He had never heard of it.
He stuck his tongue out and tasted the air. Ignoring the disconcerting steril residue, he gathered the year was the middle of 2001. Whatever the Umbrella Corporation is doing here must never have been learned by the public, UNIT or Torchwood. Otherwise he would have remembered a company by the name Umbrella.
Or was that why he was here? To put an end to this facility? There was no way to be sure without getting timey wimey about it, but the fact of the matter is that he is here and there is definitely something unpleasant going on inside this place. Perhaps something he must indeed stop.
"Why do you have your tongue out?" Bolt asked as she approached the restrained Doctor.
Pulling his tongue back in, he smiled. "I'm just being silly," he said pleasantly. "There. You learned something about me already. Me. Silly."
Bolt seemed unimpressed. She ripped the hypodermic needle out of the Doctor's arm, ignoring the drips of blood that appeared and the cringing look on his face. Grabbing the edge of the bed, that turned out to be a gurney, and she rolled the Doctor toward the laboratory door.
"Where are you taking me?" The Doctor asked taking in all the details he could see as he was wheeled by.
"To learn more about you."
Bolt's tone was so sinister, the Time Lord involuntarily shuddered.
.
.
To be continued.