Experiment Gone Wrong (Dottore x reader)

Chip

Mentions: self-harm.

The second I heard that door close, I got to work. How stupid he must be to leave a kidnapped scientist unattended to in a laboratory.

Getting up slowly from the seat I was confined to, I groaned and stretched my aching legs before lightly touching my neck to assess the damage. The blood had coagulated on my skin a while ago, so I was certain the harm was minimal but there was still the risk of infection.

I kicked into action wary of the limited time I had before Mr. 'pretty in the face but will fucking torture you for fun' showed up again. Legs rushed around the room as hands delved into cupboards and drawers, looking for something, anything, to clean and wrap the wound. 

Finally, in a small drawer hidden in the far back end of the lab, was a box filled with ointment, sanitiser and rolls of medical dressing.

I grabbed everything I could and began rushing towards Dottore's desk, but managed to trip myself on the way there and drop multiple rolls to the floor; collapsing alongside them, I dropped the rest of the supplies. "Fuck it, I'll just do this here."

Shaking, I used sanitiser to cleanse my hands and neck rapidly. The liquid stung but I just had to hiss and bare it. After this, I discarded the bottle and grabbed the ointment, shook it, and squeezed a large amount over the wound. My shaking fingers rubbed the ointment into my skin and I was finally ready to wrap my neck with the medical dressing. 

I couldn't see shit, there were no mirrors. So I had to guess if I was doing it right, and I didn't want to end up hurting myself more, so I made sure to wrap the fabric slightly loose to at least swallow without injuring myself further.

Breathing out through my mouth in relief, I slowly began picking up the bottles of sanitiser, ointment and rolls of dressing to place them somewhere hidden. Just in case I needed it again and that Dottore or Zandik guy if that's even his name hides it somewhere inconspicuous, before I can.

Placing a few on Dottore's desk, I moved the rest into the opposite corner of the lab behind a vent, but then paused. Wait a second. Where's my bag? I swear I had it with me? 

Hands on knees, I pushed myself away from the closed vent filled with medical supplies and began looking under the pillow and around Dottore's desk. Until I came to the realisation that the bastard took it from me. My mora... My phone... How am I supposed to take picture evidence if I don't have a phone?! Shit, this whole experience should be documented. If I don't have that, then how am I supposed to apply the additional dangers of this transportation device to my report? In fact, how am I supposed to provide any evidence of what has happened to me since dealing with this malfunction?!

No matter now, it's far too dangerous to attempt to get it back. I just need to get the hell out of here. With that, I ran a hand through my hair and groaned in annoyance. This shit is ageing me.

Certain that I still had time to at least attempt to take a look at what was wrong with this chip, I grabbed the leftover medical supplies from the desk and moved them over to one of the lab's countertops.

It's going to be difficult without any device to scan my arm. I have to cut it open.

But before that, I needed to find out if this lab even had any of the supplies I needed to fix it. So, once again, I scoured the drawers in hopes of something that looked remotely useful.

It took a couple of minutes but I was able to locate some tools that could help me greatly in dealing with this situation and I'm pretty sure that bloodied scalpel from before was still beside that chair I was tied to. My God the scalpel, I really don't want to do this. Thoughts began to weave fear into my subconscious making me swallow thickly. I don't have a choice unless I want to go through that pain again. I have to escape. 

Determined to teleport to the world I belong to, my body began to move on its own, walking stiffly towards the torture tools before tentatively picking up the crimson-splashed metal. Breathing in and out as calmly as I could I reminded myself that I'll be okay and that I was in control of this torture weapon now. Before I plunged the rubied tip into my forearm, screeching in agony as I did. 

Then, as deep red liquid began to dribble out and trickle down my arm I ran back to the countertop and pulled the sharp tip towards me, yelps of pain escaping my lips as I did. "Fuck, what am I doing" I would question myself every so often, feeling the searing burn of the cold scalpel scrape against bloodied skin. Seconds later I pulled the scalpel away from my torn flesh, dropped it unsteadily to the floor and, with my shaking hand, pulled the warm plump fat apart slightly to see the chip. Tears had already begun to fall from my eyes to the countertop surface but I didn't care. I have to do this, for my freedom.

After analysing the blood-soaked chip for a couple of minutes, prodding it with one of the many tools I had found and breathing harshly to draw attention away from the pain, I concluded that the chip itself had shut off. I'm not sure if this was because of sudden use which led to it, or because of the cooldown I had placed on it. Although, the cooldown is only supposed to last 2 weeks and it should have sent me home, not to another reality. With that thought in mind, I felt the tears flow faster but not from my physical affliction. 

There was only one way to fix it, but it was going to take a long time which meant I definitely will not be going home today. Defeated by my own conviction, I leaned my back against the counter and slid down whilst holding my defaced arm gently. "Why did I create this stupid chip, I could have made," Hiccup "made a fucking self-moving seesaw or something." Tears were pouring down my face, but I had no motivation to wipe them away. All I could think of was what Dottore could have in store for me.

The shock and denial were clear; written in blood and tears, torn into flesh and wound. It wasn't worth sulking about it, but I needed a release after all that happened. I needed to let myself cry and think about how much shit I had gone through for this so-called experiment I put myself in. If only I had thought of a fail-safe system.

But I didn't, and now I had no idea how long it would take before I could finally see my lab manager's blue eyes, drink warm beer at a pub with my boisterous lab partners, or even see my family again.

There was no time for me to sulk, yet I still did. I did until I couldn't anymore and had to force myself back up to tend to my self-inflicted wound.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter Notes

Kinda feel bad for y/n 

even though I'm the one writing this JFSAKDJAD

Anyway, she'll be back to her usual self in the next chapter frfr