DISCLAIMER: Don't own anything… Probably a good thing, since if I did then I'd want to keep them all to myself…

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Oh God…

I don't know if you've ever had something for such a long time that it becomes totally normal. Know what I mean? Uh… maybe not. Say, if you've been sitting weirdly for a while and when you get up you have real bad pins and needles? And you can't really remember what it felt like not to have pins and needles?

Heh. Pins and needles. I'm a doctor and I still use phrases like that. I got them once when having a "Bradeython" with Turk back in college. I tried to get up from the couch, couldn't walk and fell over Rowdy. I'm such a klutz that it's pretty normal for that sort of thing from me.

This isn't normal. I can't remember what it feels like to have wrists which aren't smarting dully every heartbeat. I'm trying to avoid the reason for this, but my stupid brain keeps returning to the problem and screaming it at me.

I think I'd scream if it'd do me any good.

This is going to take monumental effort, but I'm going to do it. Come on, Dorian! Ah, ya yellow chicken-coward. Fine, be a wussy snivelling little brat. In fact, use the ultimate motivation- SHEILA, OPEN YOUR EYES RIGHT NOW BEFORE I COME OVER THERE AND PERSONALLY PRY THEM OPEN SO YOU DON'T CHIP YOUR MANICURED NAILS AND WASTE THAT THIRTY DOLLARS YOU WERE SAVING TO BUY THAT PINK CHIFFON JUMPER TO GET THEM REDONE!

Focus on… what? My vision's a bit blurry, but that's not surprising. How long have I been here? Focus on the handcuffs around my wrists. And, following the chain linking them together, wrapped around the radiator. And the blood that's dried running down my arms. It's stained the sleeves of my favourite blue scrubs top, which is annoying. Not that they've never had blood on them before. Hell, I'm a doctor. They've had most kind of bodily fluids on them (heh, who else can boast that?) What's upsetting is that it's my blood.

This bastard's a psycho. But he's not even a professional one. The cuffs are so tight they've been cutting into the flesh of my wrists. Trust me to get a crappy psycho. Surely he'd want to- oh, I don't know, stick pins in my hands or something, and since they're weirdly numb I'd feel nothing.

I twist my wrists slightly, trying to get some feeling back. It sort of works- pain lances through them, and fresh blood trickles down to my elbow and starts to drip off, which is received by me with a vague sense of horror. Can I accidentally slit my wrists down here?

Other than that, I'm fine and peachy.

Except for the fact I haven't eaten anything for days.

And I've been drinking stagnant water.

And I'm chained up in some guy's basement.

And my clothes have mainly been slashed to pieces.

And this guy is probably going to kill me any minute.

And I'm more terrified than any other time in my life. Including the "sex with Jordan" part.


Damnit. I was doing so well ignoring it…

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(Hey guys- sorry it's pretty short, will be updated soon though!)