Alex's Perspective

She could not believe what was in front of her. She had no idea where to look; the enormous room was filled to the brim with cots, all of which were occupied with patients with all levels of injuries. Varying from cuts and bruises, or patients who looked like moving an inch would be too much for them and cause them to collapse. When she didn't see any sign of Bobby, she started to panic.

"This is the infirmary," Mr. Rawdon explained.

Maybe Bobby's not in here because he's okay, at least physically. Who knows what staying here is doing to him mentally, she thought while simultaneously continuing to scan the room.

"Um, Mr. Rawdon, are all your patients in here?" she asked with disbelief, seeing as there were well over a hundred patients in the room.

"No, these are just those with injuries that need immediate attention. There are more patients in the other rooms, all of which you will need to see today," he said in a passive tone.

"But..how..," Eames stuttered trying to see how it would be possible to tend to all these patients by herself in a day.

"Also," he continued as Eames wondered if there was anything else she could possibly be made to do, "you should remember what we talked about earlier. You should be careful about which questions you ask, some of them might evoke the wrong response from your, a um, patients," indicating that he was in no way talking about her patients.

"Um, I'm sure that won't be a problem Mr. Rawdon," she responded pretending to feel threatened, which was easy considering the fact that she was starting to get nervous, though she'd never admit that to herself.

Mr. Rawdon seemed pleased with that answer and walked away and out of the room, leaving Eames to her impossible task.

10 Hours Later, Alex's Perspective

Ten hours later found Eames finishing up with her last patient in the infirmary. She completed stitching up the cut on his forehead and stood. 187 patients, she thought, this is definitely not the best way to do a head count.

She limped to the doorway that opened up to the hallway, hoping to see the rest of the patients before she collapsed from exhaustion or pain. During her examinations of the patients, every touch was followed by a punch or kick. These patients are scared of something, something real. No one's this paranoid.

At least it had only taken about thirty tries, or patients, to learn a way to examine a patient without getting beat up in the process. Maybe I should tell Ross about this undercover job of mine, I might really need the back-up. If this is what I'm getting from the victims of abuse, there's no telling what the abusers are capable of.

She sighed and painfully and wearily walked into a room, her breath hitched the moment she stepped in and saw the patient. Bobby!

Her eyes immediately scanned over him, she noticed several cuts and bruises, his too still body, and blue tinged fingertips.

Is h-he de, she shook her, she couldn't believe that.

Her brain finally caught up to her and she rushed over to him, eyes glistening. As she got closer she noticed the slight up and down movement of his chest. She let out a breath she hadn't known she was holding. The thought of him dead had been all too real.

But if he's not dea, again she couldn't make herself say it, then how come his finger tips are tinted blue.

Her eyes, now more meticulously overlooking his body, noticed the restraints.

My God their so tight they cut off circulation, now looking only at the restraints she added, and probably broke his wrist as well.

She examined the metal restraints and tried to figure out a way to get them off or in the least loosen them. She picked up her medical bag and pulled out a nail file.

There's no way Bobby can tease me about carrying this around now.

She slipped the file into the slot that a key would normally go into and tried her luck, turning the file one way than the other. Apparently, luck had decided to come her way and the restraints unlocked.

She quickly grabbed his hands and started rubbing them -being careful of broken bones- trying to restart circulation.
Bobby's Perspective

Bobby awoke to the newfound sensation of feeling in his hands, not all of it a good sign. His wrist hurt like hell.

He felt arms touching him. He quickly realized that his arms were no longer restrained and that he hadn't been hit yet, which was his usual punishment for waking up, and that his captor had yet to realize that he was awake. He decided to take full advantage of this and swung his arm powerfully at the person who was touching him.

Alex's Perspective

She noticed the sudden, unexpected movement of Bobby's arm too late.

His arm came into straight contact with her face, throwing her against the room's white, brick wall, which was quickly turning red with the flow of blood.

TBC…

Thank you to those who have been reading this story up to this point, I just hope I'm making it worthwhile.

Reviews are greatly appreciated.