Author's Note: A "~~~" mark signifies either a small time skip, location skip or the internal thoughts switching between characters. Lightspeed = John.

I apologize in advance for the longer delays between chapters but, like I said before, I prefer quality over quantity, unfortunately, I tend to run out of "creative juice" fairly fast, so I've found that the best pace I work at is a page a day, with Friday, Saturday, and Sunday being used to recharge. I also feel a need to apologize for the possible drop of quality towards the end of this chapter. I was running out of steam and I simply couldn't bear to delay this chapter's release by another week.

Chapter 9- Testing 1
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Much to Lightspeed's misfortune, the deep and restful sleep that Jenny had woken him from did not return, his only reward for closing his eyes was the restless and shallow sleep that he was so accustomed to back home.

This all too familiar type of "sleep" that John often experienced could barely be called sleep at all, it was more of a state of torpor than proper rest, sure it left him feeling somewhat more rested than before-hand, but not by much.

Aside from the feeling of exhaustion that accompanied his lack of rest, John was quick to notice that his mouth and throat were practically bone dry, it had nearly been twenty four hours since he had taken in any fluids at all (assuming the way time passed in this dimension was similar to his own of course.)

Unfortunately, there were no clocks in the room to determine if that was the case and the hands on John's trusty pocket watch had spun so fast while he was in the void that the clockwork mechanisms contained within had melted together.

It was taking all of John's willpower to not consume whatever refreshments that Mrs. Wakeman had provided in the minifridge, he would not drink or eat until she had given him the "green light" to do so….even if it killed him.

..

Before John knew it, a certain old lady wearing a hazmat suit was tapping at the glass of his cell, rousing him from his mediocre slumber.

Unlike the previous night when Jenny tore him from his slumber, this time Lightspeed wasn't groggy, he was pretty much ready to go the second he sat up in the bed.

.

Lightspeed pinches the bridge of his nose whilst absentmindedly staring at his mattress and says the following:

"Good Morning Mrs. Wakeman." john stated rather unenthusiastically before adding:

"Ready to start when you are." john added before diverting his gaze towards Mrs. Wakeman.

"Good morning…." mrs Wakeman replied before allowing her voice to trail off for a few seconds before asking the following:

"Forgive my memory, what did XJ-9 say your name was again?" mrs. Wakeman asked with a sheepish frown.

"Name's John, and my last name is Olmstead." john replied rather flatly.

"Would you mind if I referred to you as Mr. Olmstead?" mrs. Wakeman asked.

"Feel free to call me whatever you want." john replied rather matter of factly.

"Well, Mr. Olmstead, we can start right now." mrs. Wakeman stated with a small smile.
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The lack of enthusiasm on the boy's face and from the boy himself was understandable given the circumstances.

..

Some of the tests would be painful, most would just take time and time alone, yet, Nora was at a loss on what to start with.

"You know that some of these tests won't be painless, right?" mrs. Wakeman asked with a rather delicate tone to her voice.

"Do you wish to get the bad ones out of the way first or put those off till later?" mrs. Wakeman inquired.

"Let's just get the unpleasant stuff out of the way first, what do you need me to do?" john replied rather flatly before briefly diverting his gaze away from Mrs. Wakeman.

The response from the boy wasn't what Nora expected to hear, it took her a few seconds to process what she had just heard before responding with the following:

"In that case, I'm going to need a blood and tissue sample for study, you will be responsible for….. retrieving it, I will provide to you a local anesthetic, a means of containing the samples, a needle for the blood sample and a surgical scalpel for the tissue sample." mrs Wakeman stated before turning around and walking away from the front of Lightspeed's cell.

.

Mrs. Wakeman can be seen picking up a stainless steel tray in her left hand, and before long, she begins gathering the aforementioned materials and utensils required for the sample from the various tables around her lab.

After around 15 seconds, she turns around, and comes back to the front of Lightspeed's cell with the tray in her left hand.
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Mrs. Wakeman seemed to be messing with something to her right that Lightspeed couldn't see.

Before Lightspeed could even react, a small metallic hatch similar to that of a wall mounted drop box was starting to form out of thin air in front of him, replacing a small section of the glass wall to his left.

How Mrs. Wakeman was able to form these objects in his cell from what appeared to be thin air would have to be a question for another time….

A small metallic "squeak" was all it took for John to realize that Mrs. Wakeman had placed the tray in the drop box and it was now up to him to get it.

Lightspeed stands up and slowly walks to the newly formed drop box and removes the tray from it, takes it back to the bed before taking a seat next to it and begins inspecting it's contents.

Lightspeed diverts his gaze from his "inspection" of the tray's contents to Nora and asks the following:

"How much blood do you need?" john asked before adding the following:

"The most I can give is about 4 liters before the whole… dying from exsanguination thing starts to happen." john added rather nonchalantly.
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The "4 liters" part, coupled with the casual manner in which it was said when the words tumbled from the boy's mouth caught Nora off guard.

The most an adult human could lose was 2 liters before exsanguination began to set in, perhaps she had misheard him…or the boy was far more biologically anomalous than she had previously thought.

The more important question gnawing at Nora's mind was, how on earth did the boy know how much blood he could lose before near death could occur?

It was impossible for Nora to ascertain if this knowledge was the result of John being well read, or, rather concerningly, the result of first hand experience.

All of these questions would have to be asked at a later date, Nora had to make sure that the boy didn't provide FAR more than what was necessary.

"Heavens no!" mrs. Wakeman cried out whilst fervently shaking her head, before adding:

"Just fill the vial to the top, I need 10 milliliters at the absolute most." mrs. Wakeman added.
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John diverts his attention from Mrs. Wakeman and returns it to the tray where he once again starts inspecting its contents with ever increasing scrutiny.

The local anesthetic, while nice of Mrs. Wakeman to provide, was completely superfluous unless the tissue sample she needed him to provide was rather large.

The needle was out of the question for drawing blood, John would happily take a sucker-punch to the stomach from a Silverback gorilla any day of the week before jamming a needle of any kind into his flesh.

.

John could kill two birds with one stone, or in this case, get both samples from one wound.

He would retrieve the tissue sample and use whatever blood that wept from the resulting wound for the blood sample, the only problem was… the scalpel.

The scalpel, while capable of working in this scenario, was probably FAR too sharp for him to use without cutting deeper than necessary.

John would have to use his favorite and most reliable survival tool that had come along with him for the ride to this dimension, and luckily for him, it's blade was currently sitting in its sheath on the interior side of his breastplate, said breastplate was buried in the same armor pile to his right where he had left it.

There were two potential problems that could arise from using "his" blade instead of the scalpel provided:
Problem one was the fact that the knife was now contaminated with whatever germs and pathogens that this dimension had to offer, but at the same time, so was he.

John had been breathing in this dimension's air for hours, and had yet to experience ill-effects as a result, it was unlikely that whatever was now on his knife would cause problems if it were to get into his bloodstream.
Problem two was the knife's rather intimidating appearance (it was standard issue for the American armed forces back home), it's whopping 7 inch long blade coupled with its 1 and a half inch width might freak Mrs. Wakeman out.

..

The cons of using the scalpel were potentially maiming himself in a way that required a visit to a hospital…..said hospital visit might result in more loose ends than he could possibly tie up (assuming Mrs. Wakeman would even allow him to go to the hospital in the first place.

The answer was obvious, KA-BAR it was.

..

"How much skin for the sample do you need?" john asked whilst eyeing the breastplate in the pile of armor pieces to his right.

"Not much, nothing more than a few cubic millimeters in terms of surface area at the absolute most, I hope that's not too much for you." mrs Wakeman replied with a rather nervous tone to her voice before adding:

"Feel free to take your time if you need to, I'm not in any rush." mrs. Wakeman added before turning around and taking a seat in the chair to her right.

After a few seconds, Mrs. Wakeman's attention on John lapses, she diverts it to the bench she's sitting next to, and begins fiddling with various mechanical devices whose purpose or function was impossible for Lightspeed to ascertain.

..

Lightspeed gets off the bed and slowly walks over to the pile of armor pieces, upon arriving at it, he kneels down, and starts rummaging through the pile to find the breastplate.

After a few seconds of rather loud rummaging, John finds the breastplate and flips it over, exposing it's interior, and thus, his target.

Without hesitation, he grabs ahold of the knife's hilt, the familiar texture of the hilt's stacked leather washers against the flesh of his right palm brings forth a brief torrent of memories, both pleasant and incredibly unpleasant.

After his brief bout of private reminiscing, John starts removing the knife from it's sheath, but abruptly stops halfway in response to a cold chill that he felt worming it's way down his spine in the most uncomfortable way imaginable.

He was being watched, John could practically feel Mrs. Wakeman's hawkish gaze metaphorically piercing the back of his head; it would seem that his rather loud rummaging had momentarily attracted her attention.

..

Not one to get cold feet at the last minute, John continues where he left off, and removes the remainder of the knife from it's sheath, before standing up, and walking towards the bed.

John stops at the halfway point between the bed and the armor pile and takes a seat on the floor, leans to the left, and grabs ahold of the tray with his left hand.

With the tray in his left hand, John leans back and plops the tray on the floor in front of him.

.

After a brief amount of internal deliberation and searching, John ultimately decides on a "prime spot" located on the interior side of his left palm just underneath the knuckle of his index finger…..
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A few seconds was all it took to carve a flap of skin the size and thickness of a dime from the area, with nothing more than a brief and relatively mild sting of pain to accompany the blade entering and exiting the newly formed wound, it was nothing that John couldn't manage.

The skin sample was put in the vial to the left, whereupon entering, it almost immediately adhered to the glass of the vial itself like a fleshy piece of tape.

..

Now came the more painful part, the blood sample.

As it stood, the wound wasn't weeping nearly enough to provide an adequate amount of blood, some… pressure needed to be applied.

John holds his left hand carefully over the vial on the right, and begins to slowly but firmly clench his left fist as if crushing an imaginary fruit over some kind of food, but instead of fruit juice, the familiar scarlet color of his own blood begins to seep from between the gaps in his fingers and slowly drips down his clenched fist and into the vial below, drop… by… drop.

The pain wasn't nearly as bad as John was expecting, nothing more than an incredibly mild throb, but that most likely would change soon because the pace at which the blood was flowing was proving to be….inadequate, more pressure would have to be applied, he needed a constant trickle, not droplets.

The throb, coupled with a new-found sting increased in intensity in direct response to the increased amount of pressure he put on the wound, but this newfound amount of pressure seemed to be doing the trick, as he finally acquired the flow of blood that he needed to fill the vial in a relatively short amount of time.
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After what felt like an eternity, the vial was full, much to Lightspeed's relief, the wound had started to clot and the flow of blood had decreased significantly by the time the vial was ¾ full, for a moment he was getting a bit worried that he'd have to make another wound to get the final ¼ needed.

With the hilt of the knife still firmly within the grasp of his right hand, Lightspeed grabs the tray with his left hand (taking care to only grasp it with his fingertips and not with his now wounded palm), and stands up.

Lightspeed walks over to the drop box and gently returns the tray to where he got it from, and after a few seconds of hesitation, gently closes the hatch on the safety deposit box, before knocking on the glass of his cell with the knuckles on his left hand to get Nora's attention.

"Order up!" john said with a small smirk.

Mrs. Wakeman briefly rolls her eyes in response to Lightspeed's joke as she gets out of her seat and starts making her way to the drop box to collect the tray.

It was fairly obvious that she did not appreciate John's joke, but at least he tried, either way, it was no skin off his back… pun not intended.

.

A very stupid idea popped into John's head, one that he almost instantly acted upon:

John intentionally wipes his left palm across the glass in plain view of Mrs. Wakeman, leaving a faint but still visible smear of blood in his wake.

Mrs. Wakeman simply shakes her head in response before saying the following:

"Please don't do that, it's unsanitary." mrs. Wakeman protested with a sigh before shaking her head in disapproval.

The reaction John had gotten from Mrs. Wakeman wasn't nearly as entertaining as he had hoped, but at least he had cleaned the blood off of his left hand.

Lightspeed backs up for a few seconds, takes a left, and reclaims his uncontested seat on the bed.

Since Nora hadn't foreseen him using his own knife, she hadn't given him anything to wipe his blade off on, and since nothing in his cell was adequate for such a purpose, Lightspeed decided to use the first thing that came to mind, his pant leg.

Sure, wiping the blood from his blade on his pant leg would most likely seem gross to any onlookers ( in this case it was Mrs. Wakeman, and Mrs. Wakeman alone) but at the same time, the blood that would be seeping into the fabric of his blue jeans would be his, and his alone.

..

Lightspeed wipes the knife across his right pant leg, wiping every single angle of the blade across it until it is clean, the blade leaves multiple red streaks across his right pant leg in its wake.

Lightspeed places the knife on the nightstand to his right and diverts his attention to Mrs. Wakeman, who is gazing at him with a look of bewilderment mixed with what looked to John like mild disgust (which was understandable considering what he had just done.)

"You do know that if you needed something to wipe that knife off with, all you had to do was ask, right?" mrs. Wakeman asked before opening the hatch to the dropbox and removing the tray from it.

For a few seconds Lightspeed was at a loss for words, the first thing that came to mind was the following:

"Truth be told, it just didn't cross my mind." john replied.

Mrs. Wakeman doesn't respond, and instead takes the tray with the samples to a nearby table with a rather large and advanced looking microscope on it.

Mrs. Wakeman takes a seat at the table and gets two glass slides out, places the skin sample on one using a pair of tweezers, and with a pipette, takes a blood droplet from the blood sample and places it on the other.

Mrs. Wakeman grabs the slide with the blood droplet on it, places it underneath the microscope, flicks a switch and brings her right eye up to the now illuminated lens.

..

Knowing that Mrs. Wakeman wasn't going to be very talkative whilst studying the sample, John decided to try something he should've tried last night, he would attempt to call home using his cell phone.
Sure, it most likely wouldn't work, and it was almost foolish to even
entertain the possibility of even attempting it, but what did he have to lose?

Lightspeed removes his phone from his right pant pocket and presses the "on" button, in response it actually turns on, much to his surprise, since void exposure usually fried electronics.

Unsurprisingly, the digital clock on the upper middle of the screen was a jumbled and incoherent mess, thankfully, the touch-screen and contacts tab worked, and miraculously… he had one bar.

A surge of excitement and hope began to surge throughout Lightspeed's body like a storm, sure, this wouldn't get him home, but he might at least be able to contact his friends and loved ones back home to inform them that he was, in fact, alright.

In his excitement John almost gave in to the impulsive urge to select the first person on the contact list that he saw, but he was able to restrain himself enough to not do so.

He had to think carefully about who to choose, his phone's battery was dangerously low and if the call went through, he would only be able to speak for but a fleeting moment before the phone's battery would die, and given the possibility that there was no guarantee that he'd be able to charge it with the technology in this dimension, he might not have the luxury of getting a second chance.

.

A total of 10 candidates to contact immediately came to mind, 7 of which were immediately ruled out without a second though due to various reasons, some wouldn't believe him and think it was all an elaborate prank, others would panic and worry themselves sick (which is the EXACT OPPOSITE of what Lightspeed wanted).

The answer was obvious, contacting his younger brother Henry seemed like the best choice.

There was a damn good reason why John had made Henry second in command of his hero team back home in the event of John's absence, death, or a catastrophe that left him incapable of doing what he was needed for.

.

John selects the contact icon for Henry with his right thumb, and hits "call", after doing so, he brings the phone up to the right side of his head.

A few seconds was all it took for Lightspeed's soaring hope to crash and burn, a feeling of dread that took the form of bile crept upwards from his stomach and into his throat for a fleeting moment before being forced back down… the signal hadn't gone through, there was nothing, not even a dial tone.

The single "bar" must've been from John's phone somehow interfacing with one of the local towers, it was picking up a signal from this dimension, not his own.

John brings the phone away from the right side of his head, and hits the "end call" button.

Lightspeed glances at the white screen of his phone for a few seconds longer, only stopping after the screen dies and fades to black, it would seem that the battery had officially died.

John shoves the phone back into his right pant pocket.

The sound of Mrs. Wakeman's voice rips John from his internal thoughts before the melancholic feelings forming from the sad reality surrounding the phone could even begin to set in:

"You have an incredibly high number of Leukocytes." mrs. Wakeman stated rather absentmindedly.

John was unable to tell if that comment was directed at him or if that was just the result of Mrs. Wakeman talking to herself or thinking out loud, either way he'd reply, he'd do anything to get his mind off of what had just occurred with his phone.

"Come again?" lightspeed inquired.

Mrs. Wakeman removes her right eye from the lens of her microscope, turns in her chair and diverts her attention to Lightspeed before saying the following:

"White blood cells, if my math is correct, the ratio of white blood cells to red blood cells in your blood is about one for every fifty, to put this into perspective, the normal ratio is one white blood cell for every six hundred red blood cells." mrs. Wakeman replied before adding:

"Normally a high white blood cell count is the result of an infection or an underlying disease that the body is trying to fight off, however…. with this many…" mrs. Wakeman adds before letting her voice trail off.

After a few seconds of silence, Mrs. Wakeman diverts her attention back to the microscope and puts her right eye back up to the lens.

The fact that Mrs. Wakeman had cut herself off right before the "juicy part" annoyed Lightspeed to no end, due to this, he felt a need to press further.

"And?" john asked with an impatient tone of voice that metaphorically demanded that Mrs. Wakeman continue.

"With this many… you shouldn't be….for lack of a better term… alive." mrs. Wakeman replied without diverting her attention from the lens of the microscope.

"Biologically speaking, this should be impossible, interdimensional anomaly or not; everything about your physiology is so similar to us that it shouldn't be…" mrs. Wakeman says before cutting herself off and starting over with:

"Ok, let me put it this way…. the number of red blood cells in your system that are needed to carry oxygen from your lungs to the rest of your body is completely inadequate for what you should require." mrs. Wakeman started over with a sigh.

"This isn't something that's considered normal for a person in your home dimension….is it?" mrs. Wakeman inquired after diverting her attention from the microscope and back to Lightspeed once more.

Mrs. Wakeman was turning out to be a lot more intuitive than she looked, she had pretty much hit the nail on the head perfectly with that last assumption.

"You are correct, even where I come from, me and my brothers are… physiologically speaking…. very unique when compared to the average person." lightspeed replied.

A few seconds of silence pass between the two until John breaks it with the following:

"What does this information mean for me?" john asked.

"The good news is that your unique blood carries no pathogens within it that would be harmful to us or our environment if they were to somehow escape, aside from a few Chromosomal and DNA differences, in fact, the pathogens within your blood are nearly identical to ours, so you're benign in that regard." mrs. Wakeman replied.

"Does that mean it's safe for me to consume the refreshments that you've provided to me?" lightspeed inquired whilst diverting his attention to the minifridge located to his right.

"In my professional scientific opinion, given the superhuman immune system you appear to have, you'll be fine, the most adverse reaction you may experience from coming into contact with whatever pathogens that are within the drinks I provided to you are, a loose stool for a few days at the absolute most, with possible vomiting on the side." mrs. Wakeman rather nonchalantly stated.

..

The "you'll be fine" was all that John needed to hear, for he immediately made a b-line for the fridge the moment he had heard it.

John kneels down and practically rips the door of the minifridge off its hinges, the contents of the minifridge were protein bars, bottles of water, and cans of what he assumed to be soda.

As expected, none of the brands were ones that he recognized, but he didn't care.

He didn't even bother taking the time to see what flavors he had available, he grabbed the first can that crossed his line of sight, cracked it open via the pull tab, brought it up to his mouth… and chugged.

Within seconds, what felt like the best tasting can of soda John had ever experienced in his entire life was empty.

.

Lightspeed places the empty soda can back into the minifridge and grabs a replacement for it in the form of a bottle of water, which he chugs as well, only stopping halfway before the bottle is empty to get some air and grab a protein bar.

Lightspeed doesn't even bother putting the water bottle in his right hand down to unwrap the protein bar in his left hand, he instead bites onto the wrapper with his teeth and tears it off.

A millisecond later, Lightspeed spits the wrapper out and onto the floor to his left before shoving the entire protein bar into his mouth, which he then begins to chew with a rapidity that would make even the fastest of star-nosed moles envious.

Milliseconds later, John washes it down with a swig of water from the bottle in his right hand, he pauses for a few seconds to get a breath of air before polishing the rest of the bottle off, a millisecond later, it too is shoved back into the fridge as well.

Lightspeed shuts the door to the minifridge, stands up, and walks back to the bed, where he takes a seat before diverting his attention back to Mrs. Wakeman.

"I take it from your ravenous consumption of those drinks that you hadn't helped yourself to the fridge's contents until now?" mrs. Wakeman inquired with a slightly shocked expression on her face.

Lightspeed silently nods his head in response to Mrs. Wakeman's question before saying the following:

"I wasn't willing to risk it until I knew it was safe to do." john responded.

Mrs. Wakeman nods in response, as if "satisfied" by John's answer, after a few more seconds, she diverts her attention back to the microscope, where she swaps the glass slide with the blood sample to the slide containing the skin sample.

Lightspeed diverts his attention from Mrs. Wakeman and worms his way under the bed-sheets.

John wasn't very tired but he much preferred the idea of a nap then another 2 to 4 hours of uneventful back and forth small talk between him and Mrs. Wakeman.

If anything, he was probably distracting her with his questions….
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Lightspeed wakes from his nap with a groan, Mrs. Wakeman was nowhere to be seen in the room, and much to his shock, his armor was gone as well.

It was fairly obvious that Mrs. Wakeman had "borrowed" it during Lightspeed's nap for reasons only she knew.

Back to sleep it was…..