{BOREDOM} sets in -ALL tw (ally & bella too!)

[Elizabeth Wright]

Elizabeth rocked back on her chair, running her fingers through her curly blonde hair as she let out a sigh. She glared at the multitued of folders on her bench, along with the who-knows-how-many electronic folders just waiting to be opened on her computer. She was never going to get through this, and it had already been a month. She gave the computer another depising stare, as if it was it's fault and not her own lack of knowledge. Though that was only to be expected. It was alien, in every sense of the word. She would get there eventually, and it was interesting. Like nothing she'd ever seen before - duh. But there was only so long you could read autopsy reports before your brain leaked out your ears.

Liz began to tidy up the folders, sorting them into piles by their year. She'd always been a bit of a neat freak, but since coming to Torchwood, she'd let her bordering-on-OCD habits slip a bit. Not a bad thing either. But she still didn't like mess, and upon noticing just what a state the desk was in, and not only the autopsy folders, she couldn't just leave it like that.

But within minutes, everything was neat again, and still Liz was left with nothing but the reports - something she didn't feel like returning to just yet. She sighed again, though this time with a slight smile on her lips, and swung around rather quickly on the chair, gazing around at the room.
"Is there anything exciting happening? Or is it going to be paperwork for the rest of the day? Because if so, I think I'm going to need a gun." she called out.

[Dr Alistair Hubble]

Alistair didn’t feel too good. His head hurt like no tomorrow and more than anything he wanted to find Ianto. Ianto would make everything better, the man always did. Besides he could trust him, he was like a father to him in this strange new world of the past. Gripping the edge of the Welshman’s desk he frantically looked for him. He wasn’t around the office. He touched the bell and let it ring though the silent office. No one responded. His heart beat in his chest, he felt a little nauseous. Maybe it was that experimental vaccination that Malone injected into him the day before he left. The man did claim he might get ill from it. Alistair always tended to react to those sorts of things. Yes, that was logical. Swallowing hard he moved his hand over his stomach and continued to look for anything to get him to Ianto. He needed to find Ianto or someone who could help the lost Canadian who was many miles from home.

It was an accident what occurred next, he found himself pressing a button below the desk and then a door opened. He didn’t have time to give a reaction or think about this. His head hurt too much, so he just went though the mysterious door because he thought either Ianto is there or not, it’s just like Schrodinger’s cat a physical 50/50 change of possibilities of Ianto being there or not being there. Alistair found a stair well which seemed to go on forever he followed it slowly gripping the hand rail as if it was the only way he would manage. Stairs are hard when one fells ill. Moreover it made the nausea worse. Finally sometime later he made it to the bottom.

There was a door there that seemed to have some sort of complex locking system. Alistair saw one such a door before back home, they were common in labs. Smiling weakly he almost thought he was back home for a moment. Back from the horrible place he came from, back in Ottawa. The Canadian was growing a little delusional of reality, but could you blame him as he was ill. “Ianto?” He called out weakly as he didn’t know if the door would just open or not. He moved forward and called the Welshman’s name once more, this time it was more desperate, “Ianto?!” His breathing was hard from walking down the flight of stairs (there were at least five hundred) and he fell a little faint. The door was activated as he approached it, maybe it wasn’t locked today. Alistair went thought and called out once more, “Ianto……” then he saw the most odd thing in his life. A working habitat; underground the small tourist office which laid above. Blinking he just accepted it, if he wasn’t sick he might have asked a hundred questions but Ianto was the only man on his mind now. He wanted to find him more than ever. Moving forward he tripped over himself and fell to the floor with a faint whimper. “Ianto?” He called out again holding out a hand for him before he gave up and closed his eyes. He really didn’t fell too well.

[Elizabeth Wright]

Liz swung around on her chair further, as she heard the large round door that was one of the entrances to their little (well, not little, massive.) workshop. Unfortunatley, she overbalanced, and fell off the damn thing as it shot out from underneath her. By the time she dragged herself back upright, the person was well and truely in the room. She was just embarrassed at making an idiot of herself infront of her friends and wrokmates as she turned around, waiting for the laughter. Much to her suprise, it wasn't Jack, Ianto or Bella.
It was a total stranger, and he didn't look like he was in a good state. She grabbed for her gun, remembered that she didn't have it on her, and extended her arm to feel across her desk for a good weapon. Her hands attached on a small pair of scissors, and she advanced on the stumbling man, every mucsle on high alert.

Which is why she jumped a foot when he spoke.
“Ianto?”
She frowned. She didn't have a clue where Ianto was. She straightened a little, but didn't relinquish her grip on the scissors. Just then, the man called out for Ianto again, and then stumbled, and fell to the ground. He didn't get back up again, and Liz's medical traininng kicked in. The scissors dropped to the ground and she rushed over to where the man lay, his eyes closed and his hand dropped to the ground. She felt for a pulse, reassured when she found one, and took his hand.
"My name is Elizabeth. Can you hear me?" she said in a clear voice.

[Dr Alistair Hubble]

He nodded. English didn’t usually come too well when he was sick. His mind was thinking in Québec -quoi. He caught her name. Elizabeth, meaning: "my god is abundance." It was an odd name for a medic, or someone helping him. He didn’t overly think it as his head hurt too much as it was. Additional thoughts would only cause it more pain. Alistair kept his eyes closed, he didn’t want t move or go anywhere. “Je suis malade.” He mused. It literally meant ‘I am sick,’ and he was sick. He knew it and any medical doctor would conquer the same thing.

His head was burning up, and he felt a little delirious. Ally wanted Ianto. He wanted to go back home, not to the place he came from. No, not that horrible godforsaken place but his own sweet home back in Nova Scotia where the seagulls would cry, and the wind would whisper softy thought the green meadows. That was his home, not the hell of Ottawa where the Institution was located but that was all in the future. None of it came to pass yet. The Canadian curled up in a ball and shivered. “Aider moi si vous plait.” It meant, ‘help me please.’

[Elizabeth Wright]

Elizabeth frowned, her mind flashing back to her medical training. She bit her lip, taking a deep breath and ordering her heart to stop racing and her mind to slow down just a tad, so she could actually examine the thoughts racing by, and work this situation out. After all, freaking out wasn't going to help a single jot, and she needed to analize the situation.

This was fairly new to her to be honest. Sure she had passed college with flying colours, and knew her stuff when it came to medicine, but books could only get you so far. In reality, Liz had had next to no on the field experience. She'd done her hours working in the hospital, stuck on night shift, and seen all sorts of things that you get in emergency at two in the morning, things that would have others retching. But that was easy. There was a set protocol, and you had equipment at hand and a senior nurse behind you pointing everything out.

What was she talking about? She had fought aliens, for crying out loud. This should be easy. She took the mans hand, feeling for his pulse with the other, and counted in her head against her watch. His heartbeat was up, but not dangerously so. What was worrying her was the way his eyes flickered open and closed, and the way his words slurred a bit at the end. She didn't want him falling unconcious, not until she knew what was wrong.

AS he started talking french, Liz cursed herself for not learning the language at school. Languages had never been her thing, but she now wished that she'd put in the time.
"I'm sorry honey, I can't speak French" she said, her voice low and clear, the way they'd taught them to speak to patients. "Can you tell me what's wrong? Where's it hurting"

[Dr Alistair Hubble]

French all he could think of was in French. His brain was functioning in French not Frency-French but Quebec-quoi. How was he supposed to speak in English when he couldn’t think a word in English? He could understand her sort of. It was all messed up in his head. Everything hurt and that’s when he always spoke in fluent French, when he was sick. But back in Canada this wasn’t a problem as everyone or most of everyone spoke French as it was their second official language of the country. Everything was in Franglais even the street signs expect in Quebec where they had ‘rue’ instead of ‘street.’ Too bad for Elizabeth she didn’t speak French as her patient was not even thinking in English.

Cocking his head to his side he honestly had no idea what she was talking about. She took his arm and checked his vitals, pulse and such. He fought hard looking at her but it was as if he was seeing double. “Quoi? Je ne comprend pas….” His head hurt and he was beginning to give into it closing his eyes. “Ianto sais…..” which is the last thing he managed to say for the moment as his throat was now bothering him. Bloody injections they tested on them. Alistair always took them the worst. Everyone seemed to always be fine after them, he usually was the odd ball out as he got sick the most. “It fait chaud,” he told her it was hot when it was really rather cold down in the Hub as they were underground. He wasn’t making much sense at all. The poor lad needed help and help needed her questions answered so she could give him the aid he needed.

His mind wandered back to thinking of Prince Edward Island, the surf against the rocks, and Nova Scotia. It was such a beautiful place tucked away in the Northern hemisphere of the world where you could almost see the Northern Lights of the hemisphere caused by solar winds. Amazing what chemicals and science could do. Sometimes he would imagine seeing it from the International Space Station that hovered above the Earth in constant obit. He fell into a trance like state and began drifting off into a deep sleep.

[Elizabeth Wright]

Liz almost went into a freak out when the man passed out, but doing another check, she realised that he was only sleeping, not actually unconscious. She tried to wake him, but his vitals were fine and he didn’t respond, so she hesitantly sat back, watching him from her position cross-legged on the floor, her chin propped on her hand.
She still wasn’t quite sure what to do. Her first instinct was to get him to hospital, but she wasn’t sure that it was such a good idea. As far as she knew, normal people didn’t know about the hub, meaning that this man wasn’t a normal person. If anything was amiss, she didn’t know what she would do when she got him to the hospital. And how was she supposed to get him there anyway. He was twice her size – she couldn’t lift him far enough to get him anywhere near an exit, and she didn’t know if she should let ambulance workers in here.
Liz chewed her lip as she came to a decision. She would keep trying the comms to try and get some help. She would keep monitoring the man, and with any change for the worst she would stuff the secret and get professional medical help, and they could deal with the trouble it may cause later. She wasn’t going to let him die for the sake of the organizations secrecy. She pulled herself up on a nearby desk, and flew down the stairs to the autopsy room, where there were a dozen or more drawers all full of different medical equipment and not all of it from this planet or this time. She found the things she was after, including adrenalin and painkiller shots, a drip, a shock blanket, and half a dozen other medical basics, as well as a heartbeat monitor, handily on wheels, and darted back upstairs, checking on her patient again.
Hooking him up to the monitor and the drip, and propping him with pillows and blankets, she leaned back on the desk to wait, chewing her fingernails nervously.

[Dr Alistair Hubble]

Forget the idea of a peaceful sleep this was anything but peaceful. He tossed and turned upon the floor. He felt horrible and wanted his Ursa—his big plushie Polar bear. Probably dropped him upstairs, the poor dear. He shivered feeling horrible in his calmness of his apparent slumber. However, clam he was not the dream started out as a memory. He was sitting in Doctor Malone’s office. Molly was off humming in the background that you could hear though the slightly open door. Alistair held his hands in his lap and waited for him. The ginger haired man wandered in and he gulped. He was asked to lie down. At first he protested but soon gave in with an encouraging push. Ursa was clutched in his hands at the time and he found himself muffing his uncomfort and cries by using the bear. He never talked, he refused to and then was left… helpless upon the chaise lounge with just a sheet upon him…..

Waking up with shrill scream he shivered and looked around. Where was this place? He began to feverously panic. Everything was so foreign and new and – he was lost in time and space. Displacement of hundreds of kilometers away from home. An ocean a part and he wanted his bear. He wanted him now him and Ianto. He reached out for the said bear but couldn’t find him. “URSA?!” He tried to get up but found himself hooked up to some sort of machine with a drip. With his free arm he looked about him for his bear. He spotted him a few meters away from where he laid and reached out for him. Alistair needed to hold him. He craved to hold him in his arms.

“Je voudrais il…. si vous plait mlle.”

[Elizabeth Wright]

Elizabeth jumped as the man started to thrash. She'd been watching him for movement and listening for a change in the steady beeping of the monitor, but at the same time, lost in the thoughts still racing through her mind, a thousand and one different scenarios and sitautions that she may be forced to deal with at any second. Quite seperate from her mind, her body had just started to relax - she'd always found the heart monitors to have that effect on her, something about the repitition and steadyness of it she found relaxing - which was why she jumped away from the desk as the man screamed.

For a moment, she didn't know what to do. Se approached him, murmering soothing nonsense in a low voice, as one would do to a wounded animal, or drowsy child. Thank goodness he only thrashed with his free arm, at least the poor man had enough sense not to rip out the drip. If he had of pulled at that, Liz feared that the pain would have set him off further, and then she might never have a hope of calming him down simply with words and actions.

He was speaking French again, and Liz hadn't learnt how to speak it in the past fifteen minutes, but it wasn't his words that gave her the clue as to what he wanted. As she went to kneel down beside him, she realised that he wasn't just stretching out the arm in fright or distress, he was actually reaching for something. Following his gaze, she spotted a rather large soft toy polar bear, that had skidded under a nearby table. Reaching out for it, she grabbed it and passed it to the man.
"Is this what you need?" she asked him.

[Dr Alistair Hubble]

"URSA?!"

[/b] he repeated as he tried to grab his plushy polar bear. He wouldn't let them get their grubby hands on the bear. They did enough, it was horrible enough what they did to him but if they were to get his innocent Ursa he would probably lose it. His eyes looked around for a moment and he wanted Ianto-- his thoughts of the recent events came back into his head and he remembered where he was. He was in Torchwood. That's what Jack said. It was all fuzzy and the Canadian found himself very much confused.

His stomach still hurt and he just wanted his bear. It was a simple thing to want to hold a bear. Stretching his hand he aimed to reach the bear. Alistair rolled about and found himself helpless. The blond woman clearly did not speak French and he couldn't remember a thing in English. Not even a word. His mind raced thinking and functioning all in French. Everything was French. Each and every thought. "Ursa...."[/b] he continued ignoring the smoothing sounds coming from the blond haired woman as that wasn't really helping.

"Je suis malade."[/b] he mused. He felt sick. His head was pounding and the light was only bothering him-- a migraine. He knew that much from Walter. Walter got those all the time. He figured he had to have one as well. It made some sense, or maybe he was just delirious. The woman passed it over to him and he was about to toss a violent tantrum if he didn't get his bear, his Ursa back. Yet she gave it to him and he took him contently and curled up in a ball. "Merci,"[/b] Alistar whispered faintly before he closed his eyes relaxing again (as much as he could). [/blockquote]