She couldn't think. If she tried to think it would kill her. Her head and body would kill her. Vaguely she could hear voices around her. They were too loud. Why wouldn't they just go the hell away? She tried to block them out, but that had a feeling equivalent to a hammer slamming into her skull. It was better to just not think. At all. Ever. She should just let go. She should just float away into that beautiful black oblivion. But even that hurt.

Then she felt them, they were moving her. It hurt so bad that she almost tried to cry out in pain. A soft gurgling escaped her lips. Her throat was raw. It burned with every difficult breath. More voices. They were louder this time. She tried to tell them to let her die this painful death awash in blissful silence. More gurgles. Blood. That's what it was. It was the blood bubbling in the back of her throat. No wonder it hurt so bad.

The numbing started somewhere, though she wasn't exactly sure where. It cleared away all thought and eased her into sleep.

When she regained semi-consciousness, it was to more pain. This pain was different. It was dull, but hung over her like a knife tied by a thread. She couldn't open her eyes, and there was something in her mouth. She tried to reach up to remove it but her hands were strapped to the table by her sides. Her legs, she quickly found, were strapped down as well. Further investigation revealed that the thing in her mouth ran all the way down her throat and was keeping her breathing. Perfect. Just friggin' perfect.

Sudden feather light touches ran down her arm. She tried to turn, to see who was there. But her head wouldn't turn and her eyes wouldn't open. It was then that she realized that she wasn't strapped down, she was paralyzed. She simply couldn't move. The touch reached her hand and sat there.

A voice. Female and with an accent the girl had never heard. "Hey there…" It was soft, scared, worried. Why was whoever it was so damn worried? "It's Gwen again…" Gwen, strange name. "Owen says you're showing signs of getting better. I really hope you do."

The girl wished she could speak. She wished she could say something to reassure this 'Gwen' lady. She tried to squeeze her hand. Even the slightest movement to show her that everything would be okay.

Gwen sighed. "Jack says I should stop visiting you. He says that if you don't wake up it will kill me." She sighed again. What was it with her and sighing. "I know you'll wake up though. You're getting better." She squeezed the girls hand lightly, sharpening the pain ever so slightly, "If only we knew how bad the brain damage is."

Brain damage. Is that why she was paralyzed? She struggled again, fighting an internal battle. Trying to move. Even if it was slight. A twitch, a sound, something anything. She her a series of loud beeps and Gwen shouting. She was calling for Owen. Yes. Get Owen. Make him wake her up. There was the slap of shoes, giving the girl a picture of the room she was in. It was small and circular.

Shouts, loud and cracking at her skull. "Get back Gwen!" It was a male this time. He was terrified of something. "Her heart rate is spiking!" This male must be Owen.

She felt hands on her then the dull pain started to disappear. Something strange was happening. Darkness crept into the edges of her mind and slowly swallowed her whole.

Regaining consciousness for a second time was just as painful as the first. It tore apart every thought that there was a possibility of existence without pain. The tube was still down her throat which was extremely irritating. Then again, she wasn't sure if she would be able to breath without it. So instead of trying to do anything that would only make her want to die, she sat back and listened.

Close by was the sound of machines beeping and whirring away. She figured these were the machines keeping her alive. That was a simple enough answer.

Distantly, she could hear laughter and the drum of multiple feet on the floor. She was able to pick out each voice, but not the words it spoke. It was only mildly irritating, but the fact that she was able to hear at all.

"What's this?"

The voice was vaguely familiar. Footsteps approached the bed she was lying on.

"Blood pressure went up… That's odd."

If she could've she would've shouted his name in surprise. Owen. The man from before. She Wished she could move and show him she was alive.

"So are you gonna wake up now?" he asked. She felt his hand against her throat, double checking her heart rate. "That would be really nice if you could."

Part of this was making her angry. Did he really think she was staying like this on purpose. She would give anything to be off the damn cot and flying like she was meant to be. She wished she had the ability to scream that at him.

"Calm down little missy."

Now that was just rude. She wanted nothing more than to punch him right in the nose. Too bad her arm was glued to the bed.

"I'm serious. You seem to be reacting to my words, so I'm guessing you can hear me."

Hm. He was definitely smarter than she had expected. 'Yes,' she wanted to shout, 'I can hear you.' She was tired, and everything hurt, and she was so lost and confused.

His hand brushed her cheek. It was soft, and made her want to cry more than she already wanted to. "Don't worry love. I'll up your meds. You'll be out of it for a while, but when you wake up, I'll be here to explain everything."

She wished she could nod or give some signal that she had heard him. There was a soft beeping and the darkness swept over her mind once again.

The fourth time she awoke, there was a steady beep. The tube that had run down her throat was gone. She parted her lips ever so slightly and took a deep breath. Bad idea. Her throat lit on fire. When she tried to open her eyes, it was to complete darkness. Her fist thought was that she had gone blind. She blinked several times and items began to take shape. She was staring up at a ceiling. With strange light fixtures aimed down at her. They had been turned off for reasons she could not yet identify. She attempted to turn her head and found that she couldn't. Damn… She was still paralyzed. She really hoped it wasn't anything permanent.

The pain was still there. That was definite. It wasn't as apparent as it had been before, and easily pushed to the back of her mind.

She took another deep breath. This one was easier than the last. It revealed more about the room she was in. All sorts of chemicals surrounded her. The air was breathable, but awful. It burned her nostrils and tasted absolutely horrible. She sorted through her body in her mind. Broken bones. Lots of them. Most were half-healed meaning she'd been out for a long while. The chemicals in her blood made it nearly impossible to tell how long it had been. She guessed two weeks at the least.

There were also burns. They were extensive, but wouldn't scar. Well, some of them would. But none would be too noticeable. She sighed, wishing she could move.

After a while of laying on the table she supposed she must've fallen asleep, because she woke up to a nearby light turning on and voices.

"Damn Jack," said the first, "It's a good thing I've started packing spare clothes. That's the third night in a row I've spent at Torchwood."

"You could just, I dunno, move in," said a second.

The girl assumed this was Jack. Something about his voice screamed 'authority.' He was the one in charge. She knew he was. Or at least he thought he was. It was more likely that the man he was with called the shots without Jack knowing it.

"The others should be here soon," said the first man, "I'll go start the coffee."

"I'll go check on Birdie," Jack replied, "Owen said she should be waking up any day now."

Owen! The girl knew that name. He was the one that Gwen had called in when the beeping machine had started going off. He'd done something that made her pain go away. Then again, he might've been the one responsible for her paralysis. That just left the question: Who was Birdie?

The footsteps approaching her answered that question quickly enough. She shut her eyes and slowed her mind. If she was going to wake up for anyone, it wasn't going to be Jack. No. She had to wake up for the right person.

She heard the footsteps stop nearby and a sigh. He wasn't close, but he could see her from wherever he was standing. She expected him to leave, but was instead met with the sound of feet on stairs as he descended into whatever room she was in.

He sighed again when he reached her bedside.

"Hey…" he said, his voice soft, sounding almost embarrassed to be talking to her, "You probably don't know much of what's been happening for the past couple weeks…"

Well no friggin' duh. She was in a friggin' coma. At least what Gwen had said was somewhat sensible.

"I know I should come down here and visit you more, everyone else stops in at least once a week, Gwen checks in hourly. Owen spends most of his days monitoring your vitals." Another sigh. What was with this man and his deplorable amount of sighs? "The truth is… I'm terrified."

That was unexpected. It was almost enough to make her open her eyes and look at him.

"Everyone is so sure you're gonna wake up. It's a fact to them. But I know your species. Your body may be alive, but… I'm terrified that the conscious part of your mind is gone…"

She almost wanted to sigh. Was this guy always so depressing?

"Look, if you can hear me like everyone seems to think you can, please wake up. If not to prove me wrong, then to prove them right. Gwen would be absolutely crushed if you didn't make it. Tosh would bury herself in work and never come out. I don't even want to think what would happen to Owen. So please, if you can, wake up for them. They really need it."

She felt his hand run along her head. And was surprised to find that she couldn't feel it running through her hair. What had happened to her hair? It was horrible having so many questions and no way to ask them.

His hand trailed to hers and squeezed it lightly. If she had been able to move her face, she would've smiled. Unfortunately, she could only lay there and listen as he walked away. Distantly she could hear the other man yelling about coffee, whatever the hell that was, and ever further away was the sound of a door. When she knew that Jack was gone, she sighed. It was going to be a long day.