InsaneJournal

Ben Ferguson - Abduction


"Dr. Ferguson to MRI reception, please. Dr. Ferguson to MRI reception."

Ben looked down at his half-eaten sandwich and as-yet untouched chocolate bar and sighed, muttering a couple of choice curses under his breath as he did so. So far as he knew his schedule was clear for the next one hour and... he checked his watch... seven minutes. Plenty of time to eat a leisurely lunch, call his mother about visiting for Rachael's upcoming birthday, then call a new friend about a different, yet hopefully highly enjoyable, matter entirely, and be back in Clinic in time for the arrival of his least favorite harridan, Mrs. Robertson, and her continued sacroiliac issues. God knows, he liked as much time as possible to prepare himself for Mrs. Robertson. Ben would pretty much have anything with two X chromosomes and a pulse, but even he drew the line there. Shame the woman didn't seem to get the message.

He pondered taking a few more moments to finish his lunch, but then decided to get the damn thing over with. He picked up his chocolate and put it into the pocket of his white coat. He'd at least be able to finish that later. Then he stood and lifted his sandwich. Taking one last bite of it, he retrieved his coffee from the table - he could drink that on the move, at least - and made his way to the dining room exit, detouring to dispose of what was left of his sandwich on the way.

By the time he'd traversed the corridors, taking only a slightly less than direct route to the MRI department, his coffee was all but finished. He pushed his way through the doors, draining the last of it as he walked towards the direction desk. When he lowered the cup again, he found nobody in sight. "Hello?" he called, frowning as he glanced up and down the corridors and back the way he came. Nobody. Not that that was strange in itself - it was lunchtime after all. But there was no sign of the origin of the voice that had summoned him here either. He walked behind the reception desk and checked its contents to see if any clue could be found there as to why he was needed. He found nothing.

"Fuckers," he muttered. Ben was good at his job, but even he couldn't divine what he was supposed to do from empty air. He moved away from the desk and back to the doors to take him out of the department. It was at that moment that the doors opened and two figures in white coats walked through. Ben automatically nodded in acknowledgement and stood back slightly to let them through. "I'm Dr. Ferguson," he introduced himself. "I was called here, although I have no..."

He trailed off as the two figures, instead of stopping to listen, moved to position themselves one on either side of him. He had no idea who they were and, he realized when he looked from side to side at them, their ID badges were old. Very old. He made to take a step back and the one of the left stopped him by grabbing his upper arm. "Hey, now just a m..." he started, then stopped with an exclamation of shock and sudden pain when his right arm was similarly seized and the unmistakable sensation of a hypo being inserted made him look the other way. He tried to yell, but his voice had deserted him. However, the hands seemed to have released their hold and he lurched forwards, aiming for the doors out.

He never got there. The last thing Ben remembered was wondering why the doors seemed to be moving further away from his outstretched arm, shifting in and out of focus at the same time. Then he had a vague impression of pressure against his knees and realized that he must have fallen to a kneeling position. Then the doors, the men and his knees all vanished as the dark closed in.