Alex was confused. This wasn't okay. The hallways were all empty. Where was Dr. Wilkinson? He always considered himself a curious kid, who could easily find out things on his own, but he'd never been put in a situation like this before. Maybe he could take it like a game Ian had once played with him, a variation of hide-and-seek.
It had been last year, a couple days after Alex's sixth birthday. It was cold and rainy and there was nothing to do outside, so Ian went up to him in the sitting room.
"Hey, Alex," he said, "do you want to play a game with me?"
Alex remembered that his eyes had lit up at that. Ian had actually wanted to spend time with him. It'd been a miracle! How could he say no?
"A game?" He echoed. "What sort of game?"
"Here are the rules," Ian told him. "First, I'll hide. You close your eyes and count to any number you want. By the time you're done counting, I'll be in a hiding place. What you have to do is find me."
"But... what if I don't?" Alex had been increasing confused. What if Ian never came out of his hiding spot? What if Alex lost him forever?
"Just make sure you do," Ian said shortly. "Now, close your eyes and count to a number."
Alex closed his eyes, and put his hands over his face. "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven..." he counted all the way to fifty. When he opened his eyes, everything was dark. Why...? Then, he realized that the lights had been turned off. He looked for Ian all around the house, only relying on his other four senses. Touch. Hearing. Taste. Smell. Alex found Ian crouching behind a laundry basket half an hour later.
"Good," Ian said. "Let's try again, but try to find me sooner this time."
"Okay!" Alex agreed, and they did it again and again, until Alex could find Ian in less than ten minutes. What he didn't see, though, were Ian's small proud smiles when the lights were off and his nephew found where he had been hiding.
Alex shook his head, wondering if he'd missed Dr. Wilkinson's door by now. He kept walking down the hallway in search of someone, anyone, to help him find the doctor.
A few minutes later, he saw someone running past in a white coat.
"Hey!" Alex called. The person stopped, and looked over. It was a man, with close-cropped hair and kind eyes. He smiled at Alex.
"Hey there," he said. "What's your name?"
"Alex," Alex said breathlessly. "I just got here today. Could you tell me where Dr. Wilkinson is?"
The man nodded. "Sure, son." He pointed down the hall. "Next hallway, first door to the left. Just knock."
"Thanks, Dr...?"
"Oliver," the man replied.
"Thanks, Dr. Oliver!" Alex said.
"It was my pleasure, Second," Dr. Oliver answered, the kind smile flitting to a nervous expression before returning again.
Alex crossed his arms. "You asked me my name," he pouted. "You could've at least had the decency to use it."
He took off down the hall and to Dr. Wilkinson's door, wanting to be as far away from the doctor as he could.
As he knocked, one doctor to another was what Alex thought of. He had no idea that he would be thinking this more often over time.
The door opened, to reveal Dr. Wilkinson smiling at him. Inside his head, Alex scoffed, Dr. Wilkinson's smiling. What else is new?
"Hello, Second," she said. "Come on in."
Alex didn't say a word as he entered, and saw that the room looked just like your standardized doctor's office, with the white walls, desk, swivel chair, and long table covered with a white sheet.
"Just hop onto that table," the doctor said in a friendly tone.
Alex obliged, and swung his legs up and down.
"Alex," he said.
"What was that?"
"I said, 'Alex,'" Alex said, looking down at his swinging legs. "My name is Alex."
"For now, your name is Second," Dr. Wilkinson said firmly, like it was a hard fact that he couldn't change.
"But it's not," Alex insisted.
"Stop stressing yourself out, you'll break a sweat," the doctor said listlessly. She took a cloth from her white coat and ran it under the tap of the sink. Then, she pushed the hair out of his face and held the damp cloth to Alex's forehead.
"How does that feel?" She asked him.
"You sound like a psychiatrist," Alex said repulsively.
Dr. Wilkinson laughed without humor. "I try."
She took the cloth off of his forehead and put it under a microscope. She pressed her eyes to the small lenses and twisted the dials.
"Is that my DNA?" Alex asked brightly.
Dr. Wilkinson didn't look up. "What was that, sweetie?"
"My DNA," Alex repeated. "Are you getting information about my cells from my sweat on that cloth?"
"Not exactly," Dr. Wilkinson said, taking the cloth and zipping it into a plastic bag.
"That's what forensic scientists do when they have evidence," Alex pointed out, gesturing to the bag.
"Mmm?"
"Whenever the forensic scientists at a crime scene find a piece of evidence, they put it in a bag," Alex said matter-of-factly.
Dr. Wilkinson set down the bag. "And where did you learn that, Second?"
"My uncle sometimes lets me watch CSI," Alex said. "Only on Saturdays, though. He said the Friday ones had too much blood. Lost limbs. That sort of thing."
Dr. Wilkinson took her stethoscope and walked over to him. "Really? And did your uncle tell you anything about this CSI show?"
"Not much," Alex said. "He let me figure it out for myself. And it was pretty easy, anyways. You just have to ignore the cussing and the 'what the hell is this?' 'cause that's just the unnecessaries."
"Take deep breaths for me," Dr. Wilkinson instructed as she slipped the stethoscope down Alex's shirt to his chest.
Alex took deep breaths. When she was done, the doctor typed some results into her computer. Alex watched as his information was packed into the data system. He wondered who had access to it. The other doctors? The other adults? People outside of the lab? Maybe Ian could hack into it. He was good at typing random numbers and letters into the mainframes, anyways. Alex had watched him do it, quietly, one night at eleven o'clock because he hadn't been able to sleep.
"What are you doing, Ian?" He'd asked, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.
"Work," was Ian's gruff answer. Before he could stop him, Alex had sat in a chair next to him and stole a look at the computer screen. "Is this for the bank?"
But Ian had waved him away. "Go back to sleep, Alex," he said hurriedly. "I've got work to do."
Alex had rolled his eyes and walked out of the room. He still hadn't been able to get any sleep that night.
Alex came back to the dreary doctor's office by Dr. Wilkinson asking him to lay on his back. He did, and the doctor took some notes.
"Which hand do you write with?"
"My right."
"Which eye do you favor?"
"Depends which one is closed."
"Have you ever broken any bones?"
"Once a finger from a bike incident. And an arm from falling out of a tree."
"So, you like going outdoors?"
"It's where I get my oxygen."
"Have you ever been to the dentist?"
"Are my teeth really that bad?"
"Have you ever had a cut infected before?"
"Not that I'm aware of. But I don't pour unsanitary bacteria into my paper cuts, I assure you."
"Can you tell me what letters you see?"
Numbers flashed onto the ceiling. Alex figured there must be a projector somewhere on her desk.
Alex was fed up with all of the questions. So he decided to do a little experimenting of his own.
"I see a few," he said.
Dr. Wilkinson looked up, obviously surprised. "Which ones?"
Alex glanced up at the ceiling at the numbers. "There's a T, an H, an I, and an S. Another I, and another S. Ooh, and a P, O, I, N, T. An L, an E, and two Ss."
Dr. Wilkinson looked at him, confused. "I don't see—" she stopped. "You think you're funny, don't you?"
As best as he could, Alex shrugged. "It's really based on your opinion."
Dr. Wilkinson gave him a stern look. "That kind of behavior, you'll find, is not tolerated here."
Alex sat up, and raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really? Then maybe you can take me to a place where it is. Like, say, my home?"
But Dr. Wilkinson shook her head. "None of that. You'll find a home here soon enough."
"But I don't want to," Alex protested. Dr. Wilkinson shook her head.
"I think that's all for today," she said. "I'll help get you down, Second."
As she picked him up and carried him on her hip, Alex gave her a specialized glare. "It's Alex," he said angrily. "Alex, Alex, Alex! What in that name sounds like Second?"
But Dr. Wilkinson only smiled as she opened the door with her foot and carried him back to the cafeteria. Alex saw that Percy had disappeared. Seeing the other adults in the room staring at him, he struggled. "I can walk by myself, you know," he said. "I've been doing it for quite some time now."
The doctor set him down, and he tore out of the room and back to his bunk. Percy was already on his, flipping through a picture book.
Alex sat next to him. "Is that a comic?" He asked curiously.
Without looking up, Percy shook his head.
"Well, then what is it?" Alex persisted, used to being ignored by his uncle and not liking the feeling at all.
Percy shrugged, still keeping his eyes glued to the page.
"I'm... trying to read this," he said hardly, like he was in deep concentration.
Alex glanced at the words. "What do you mean? It looks easy enough."
But Percy only shook his head. He stayed like that for a moment, concentrating hard on the words on the page, then he slammed the book shut. "That's the thing, Alex," he said, sitting up. "It's supposed to be easy. But I can't read it."
"Why not?"
"Because of my dyslexia!" Percy burst out.
Alex's brow furrowed. "Dyslexia? Is that where you can't read?"
"I can read some things," Percy said. "Like, smaller words. But not the big ones. I'm not your guy for reading signs on the road or studying for a test. It's just hard for me."
Alex sat back. "Okay," he said. He climbed back onto his bunk and sat there, thinking.
That was when he heard the scream.

A/N: Here's chapter two! Haha, I know it's fast, but I'm just really excited... so, as you can see, I started a new story about the adventures of Harry, Alex, and Percy in this research lab. I've been working on this fic for a while now, and I am just copying and pasting what I have already written into this website. Please, please review! Is my characterization ok? Well... enjoy. Bye!

P.S. Guess who's going to be paying them a visit next *sly smile*

Ciao.