Hey, so I'm worried that switching back and forth between worlds is killing the tension I'm trying to build, let me know what you think. Good day.

Best Wishes,

-Amateur Critic

"C'mon Barb. It's fine." Nancy coaxed. Barb finally relented, which was good. She needed to loosen up once in awhile.

"Gah! Ow!"

"Barb! Are you okay?" She got up to see Barb clutching a profusely bleeding hand.

"Yeah, I think so." She replied. The sight of so much blood reminded Nancy of earlier that afternoon. She looked to Steve for help.

"Don't just stand there! Get a first aid kit!"

By the time Steve managed to stop the bleeding, the other couple was inside, probably having sex. He pulled Nancy aside.

"Hey, now that your friend is feeling better, maybe we have some fun, you know?" Nancy smiled.

"Yeah, I'd like that." Barb was hurt and a kid was hiding in her house. "But I think I'd better make sure Barb gets home safe." Steve frowned.

"I threw this party for you."

"And I appreciate it, I'm just worried...We'll do this again...soon." He scowled.

"Yeah, goodbye."

"Steve I-"

"I'll see you at school tomorrow. Goodnight Nancy." He left Nancy and Barb standing there, taking his first aid kit with him. He climbed the stairs and entered his bedroom, looking at the the girls from the upstairs window.

Steven didn't want a lot. A faithful girlfriend, sex every now and then, his parents to stay out of his business, money and a reminder that he was the coolest guy in school. He had his little parties, his pick of beautiful women, even beer. Yet tonight, it seemed like all of those things weren't enough.

Nancy brought her friend for starters. A friend with a stick up her ass and probably depression or some shit. Nancy was prudish too, not that he could blame her.

Some girls needed more patience than others. It was dumb that she was leaving so early, though. He stared as they opened the back door. Then waited for the front door to close, signaling their departure.

He laid in bed and closed his eyes. Stupid Barb, getting hurt. Stupid Nancy, leaving for no reason...Stupid him, just letting her leave. Blowing her off like that. He opened his eyes to see-oh my god.

"Ah-!" Everything went black.

Steve slowly came to. Blinking as his eyes adjusted to unfamiliar surroundings.

"What the hell..." He murmured, softly. He couldn't move as he was bedridden. Not that he'd ever ever seen a bed with adjustable straps for all four limbs. An glowing orange 'call nurse' button was just barely in reach. Pressing it produced a cheery beep that Steve did not believe fit the situation.

The room was strangely proportioned. As though built by some abstract sculptor. The open door was hugely wide at the top and gradually narrowed to the bottom. The sink was in the middle of the room, right in front of his bed. Upside down cabinets were bolted to the ceiling. The window was-the window was fine, actually. The only weird thing being the drapes, drawn, even though it was already hard to see.

"Awake and alert, I see." Rumbled a smooth voice. Steve jerked in surprise and looked to his right. Nothing was there. "Do not be alarmed. I understand you may be concerned about your well-being. I promise that I am not here to harm you." He slowly looked upwards and immediately began hyperventilating."Calm down. Take all the time you need to adjust." The creature looked down (up?) at his clipboard and wrote something down then calmly looked at Steve. Who's breathing became long slow breaths. "Are you well enough to talk?" Steve shakily nodded. "I'll bet you have questions for me." Another shaky nod. "How about this, for every question you have for me, I can ask you one." A drop of sweat rolled off Steve's face.

"Wh-what are you?" The creature displayed a horrifying grin.

"I am a Doctor. The only Doctor in a hundred mile radius. As for species. I am as human as you are." The boy's eyes bugged out and the Doctor quirked an eyebrow. "Now, what is your name?"

"Steve." The creature or very frightening man wrote something down.

"Last name?"

"Um-Harrington." It or he wrote something else."Where am I?"

"You're in a Hospital. In another dimension from what I can deduce. I'm afraid I can't tell you the technicalities of it. I'm the Doctor, not a scientist." The giant leaned over Steve's bed to look him in the eye. "What seems to be the problem, Mr. Harrington?"

"I'm strapped to a bed in a dark room after a monster kidnapped me!"

"Now, now, I know you're afraid, but you called for me, whether you know it or not. So, barring my existence, what's wrong?"

Steve didn't know how to respond.

The big man sighed. "Tell me about your life. The problems you face regularly."

"I guess I wish I was more popular..." And so Steve told the Doctor all of his troubles. His kiss ass friends, his prick of a father, Nancy. The Doctor only looked away to scratch things on his clipboard.

He talked about what he had and how, no matter how much he'd gained, it still didn't satisfy him. He talked so much, he forgot he was strapped to the bed or that the Doctor was hanging from the ceiling. Finally, he found that he'd talked until he had nothing more to say. The Doctor nodded again.

"I'll see what I can do." He said as he washed his hands.

"It's kind of creepy you keep the lights off in a hospital. Don't doctors need it to, like, do surgeries and stuff?" The Doctor rifled through an upside down cabinet.

"I leave them off for my other Patients. I can do just about anything to fix a person, but everyone I operate on develops a paralyzing case of photophobia. Most of them take awhile to fully heal, so I leave the lights off for them to roam." He withdrew with a syringe and a little glass bottle."You haven't happened to see anyone new in your area, did you? One of them escaped before I could operate."

Steve's trust in the Doctor took a nosedive at the word 'escape'. The man who was upside down inserted the syringe through the top of the bottle, gaining a needle full of mystery liquid.

"No...I haven't...Wait! What are you doing?!"

"I'm administering a sedative so I can conduct your surgery."

"Don't- do that."

"It's my life's work. You'll feel much better once it's over."

"Maybe I could-" Steve swallowed. The Doctor was leaning uncomfortably close to his face."um. Maybe I could help you. Somehow. And in return you won't operate on me...?" The fat man who put a finger to his chin in contemplation.

"What would you propose, Mr. Harrington?" Mr. Harrington was sweating profusely.

"Help you file...things? Or-or empty bed pans? I uh, didn't see a nurse or anything, here to give you a hand...?" He or it, Steve still wasn't sure, hummed reflectively.

"It has been a long time since I've had a nurse to assist me. Maintain the Hospital...Get to places I can't... I will allow you to be a temporary nurse."

"Really?" The teenager nearly wept with relief.

"Yes, really, I think you'd be perfect for finding my lost patient. But you mustn't get distracted and you have to bring back another patient in need, to replace you. Can you do that?"

"Yes. Yes! I can." His eyes were on the needle that hovered inches from his skin. It went in and the world was black again.

~

Steve woke in his own bed sometime during the afternoon. Sunlight streamed in through the slatted blinds on his windows. He sat up and noticed his hand wasn't there. He gasped, rubbing his eyes, his left hand was still gone. At least he knew last night wasn't a dream. Had it been last night? He'd had no way to measure the time. How long was he gone?

He checked his alarm clock. It was 1:47, three days after the party.

Two new items lay on his nightstand. An envelope and a manila folder. The manila folder contained a medical profile of a girl in braids, apparently 13 and 203 years old at the same time. There was some basic information followed by a short description. Apparently she was "will-full" and "prohibited from access to all silverware, especially spoons". Steve chuckled. Cute. Her diagnosis was kind of freaky, though. "Immune Thrombocytopenia, Television Hatred, Constrictive Telekinesis." The first one sounded like an actual disease and third was weird, but what the hell was Television Hatred?

The envelope contained a neatly typed letter.

Dear Steve Harrington,

I apologize for removing your hand, however I needed a way to ensure your loyalty. You will receive it back, once you've fulfilled your mission. The envelope where you found this message has your official temporary nurse name-tag. Nothing from my world will harm you as long as you wear it, although the escaped patient will likely flee once she's seen it. I have also left her medical file to aid in her capture. When you are ready to return to the Hospital, call 123-456-7890 on your telephone. I'll come get you.

Sincerely, Doctor sggshfjfa

The Doctor's handwriting was horrible, made clear by his butchered attempt at a signature. Steve shook his head, attached his name-tag and peeked out of the window that overlooked the driveway. His parents weren't home, but a cop car was parked across the street. Shit. They were looking for him. He snuck outside through the back door. Taking the paper about the little girl with him.