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Characters: Oliver Day (

oliverplus) and OPEN
Location: Your reality!
Time: After Oliver's fairytale has ended, and during or after yours, as you prefer
Summary: Oliver goes on an involuntary reality-hopping tour of the multiverse~
Warnings: Oliver is a geek, and depending on your reality, he might just show it. Possibly a lot.

Tag in if you'd like Oliver to visit you! Prose-style or action tags are fine; just tag in the way you feel like playing.

"Samwise! Don't go under there!"

Oliver had learned a long time ago that "getting lost" and "going somewhere in the TARDIS" were basically synonymous, so he'd long since given up on getting annoyed when it happened. Instead, he usually just looked at it as another adventure to conquer--plus, you never knew what sort of cool things you might find in the meantime. And that was all well and good when he was alone, but this time he'd made the mistake of bringing one of his pets along. Watching a dwarf rabbit run off to be lost in the TARDIS was not the sort of adventure he'd had in mind for today.

He crouched down by the random large machine that was sitting by one of the walls of a room that otherwise appeared to be some sort of study. Aside from the hulking metal contraption, the room was lined with comfortable sofas and armchairs, the lighting coming from lamps on sidetables. Fancy rugs were scattered about on the polished wooden floor, although the area around the machine was bare aside from some telltale scuff marks. And while the space underneath the machine was large enough for a rabbit to fit, Oliver doubted he could even get one of his hands in there. "Come on, come out! I'll get you some nice greens?"

As he leaned down to look under the machine, he just caught sight of a furry ball shooting out and across the room. "Samwise!" He jumped to his feet, realising now that he'd been so intent on the rabbit that he hadn't even thought to close the door to the study when he came in. And, of course, he pet was making straight for it. Oliver ran after him, hoping to grab the door and shut it before Samwise could reach it and disappear into the corridor. It was going to be a close thing. He grabbed at the side of the door--

--and missed. Oliver skidded to a stop, almost falling over in his surprise. Because it was immediately apparent that he hadn't simply missed in his grab--the door wasn't there anymore. The study wasn't either, nor was the familiar hum of the TARDIS.

"What...?" Oliver breathed, looking around him in confusion. "Where am I?"

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Christine rushed into the storage closet, grabbing a cart and reaching for bandages. The rashes couldn't be removed with the dermal regenerator for some strange reason, and so applying salves and wrapping the affected areas up would have to do. More and more crewmembers were arriving by the minute, as the rash was spread by touch and not just the plant itself.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a blue uniform in a corner and suddenly remembered having told Oliver to hide out there once he was finished with the beds.

"Oliver, is that you?" She moved around a shelf, relieved to see it was in fact him.

"Thank goodness! Listen, I really need your help wheeling a cart of supplies out to the main emergency area. We've got an epidemic on our hands."

Oliver sighed in relief at the voice, quickly stepping out of his hiding place. "Hey, Christine!" he greeted brightly.

His smile dropped at her expression, though--and at her instructions, he went pale. "A--an epidemic?" He swallowed hard, his mind in a whirl, mixed between his fear of what was happening to the people here and his nearly-as-strong fright of the main emergency area. "Y-yeah, of course," he said, struggling to keep his tone even. "What supplies?"

Glad that he'd at least managed to sound halfway calm with those last words, he moved to the side, trying not to block any of the shelves so Christine could get what she needed. And as he waited for more information, he focused on breathing.

Noting the look on his face, she said, "Don't worry. As long as your skin stays out of contact with their skin, you won't catch it. We'll put on gloves before we leave here." Gesturing to a shelf, she pushed the cart she had been filling towards him. "As many of these sealed packages of bandages as you can, please. I'll fill up another cart with ointment and salve."

Oliver's eyes widened at that. Not only was he going to be involved in an emergency situation, but it had to do with a contagious disease. Perfect.

Still trying to act as normal as possible, he nodded numbly and turned to the shelves, spotting the bandages and starting to pile them onto the cart. "How bad is it?" he asked quietly, forcing the words through the lump in his throat.

"Not life-threatening, thank goodness," she replied, too preoccupied with loading her cart to see what expression he was wearing. "It just makes the skin swell and turn blue. And the swelling's itchy and painful."

Finishing with everything, she grabbed some gloves and handed him a pair. "Here we go. Better safe than sorry."

There was some relief in his gaze at that news. "That's something, anyway," he murmured, continuing to load his cart. It still didn't sound pleasant, nor did it help with his fear of hospitals, but everyone was going to live. That was most important.

He finished his cart just as she finished hers. Accepting the gloves, he tried to pull them on, only to realise that his hands were shaking. Inwardly, he berated himself, hoping Christine wouldn't notice. He really was pathetic in hospitals. Taking a few deep breaths, he willed himseslf to calm down and managed to pull on the gloves.

Christine would have been more perceptive of Oliver's plight had she not been in such a hurry. Snapping on the gloves, she grabbed the handles of her cart.

"All right, let's get out there." She wheeled the cart to the door and it slid open.

"Yeah..." Oliver took a firm grip on his own cart--enough that his knuckles turned white, in fact. His nerves were still playing up, and he swallowed hard. It didn't help.

But he still wheeled his cart after Christine determinedly, as ready to face what was coming as he could be.

Back in the main trauma area of the med bay, it was organized chaos. All the afflicted were seated on biobeds and the staff were all wearing gloves. But the patients were itchy and irritable, and the staff was glad to see Christine come back with the needed supplies. Dr. McCoy started barking orders, which were soon followed by Christine's own to her nursing staff.

Turning back to Oliver, she gave him an encouraging smile. "This'll go fast," she murmured under her breath to him. "Back to the closet when your cart's empty." She could tell from his face that he didn't like being out there.

Oliver nodded numbly to Christine, hoping she was right about that. For the moment, he was seeing the action and shouting around him as though through a haze. He could feel his heart pounding, and it wasn't as though it was because the situation itself was particularly terrifying. Really, everyone seemed very calm about it--annoyed, if anything, and determined. But he was in a hospital, and there were doctors shouting, and he wanted nothing more than to be anywhere else.

Hardly aware of what he was doing, Oliver began passing supplies from his cart to the people demanding them. If he had been thinking clearly, he would have been relieved that they were too focused on their tasks to ask him anything else. But as it was, he was working automatically--and trying not to think too hard about what he was in the middle of, at that.

For a good twenty minutes, Christine focused on treating her patients, putting Oliver to the back of her mind. Methodically, she moved from bed to bed, covered rashes in salves and wrapping bandages around the afflicted areas. After taping them down she would pull off her gloves, input the patient's info into the computer system, and move onto the next person. She repeated this pattern the same as her fellow nurses and doctors and soon the room began to clear.

Snapping off her final pair of gloves, she tossed them into the trash and remembered Oliver. Poor guy. First he was stuck on the ship and then he had to get stuck in the middle of a medical emergency. Christine hoped he was ok.

Oliver was just finishing off his cart as Christine finished with her patients. He was still working automatically, trying to keep his mind--and emotions--out of it, but when he realised he had nothing else to give them, his first thought was of how things were going for Christine. He turned to look for her, glad to spot her nearby, and hurried over to her without a thought for the cart.

"Ch--ahh--what now, Nurse Chapel?" He'd remembered himself just in time, though he still shot a glance around to make sure no one had noticed the slip. Possibly worse than that was his body language, which showed his clear desire to scarper as soon as possible. Knowing he should at least get Christine's say-so first, he reluctantly stayed put for the moment, trying to tune out the sounds of the patients and staff all around him.

Christine stopped in front of him, blowing a few stray hair out of her face.

"Ah, Ensign Day. I see you've got your cart emptied of supplies." His body language was easy enough to read. "I'm sure you're looking to return to your duties. You can head back to the closet and stock up for more bed changings." And hopefully he could try getting back to the Plane again.

Oliver nodded, his relief likely just as evident. "Thanks--uh, yes. Nurse."

Trying not to draw any attention to his confusion over proper forms of address, Oliver turned to take his cart back to the closet--only as he looked at the cart, he started to see double. He stopped, squinting at it. Not only was he seeing double, but it wasn't a normal sort of double vision. He was still seeing the cart, but there was a second image as well--a sort of overlay. As he squinted, he managed to separate the two at least somewhat. It seemed that both views were primarily white, which was what was making it so difficult. But, knowing that, he could start to make out the white outlines of a building against the white of the walls of the medbay. And as he continued looking at it, the building in front of him grew more distinct--somewhere that was white and columned and majestic. He fought back a gasp. It was a Greek temple! It had to be.

"Ah..." He turned to Christine, blinking as he saw an image behind her as well--the temple grounds, presumably. "I think...my shift is ending," he said, gesturing vaguely at the building that she surely couldn't see. But it was the best description he could think of that wasn't sure to invite trouble. "Ah, see you. Next time."

He flashed Christine a smile and only just stopped himself from waving. Then he hurried out of the room, pushing the cart as though he needed to reload it now. But in reality, he was hoping Christine could slip away, at least for a second. He wanted to say a proper good-bye, and he didn't know how fast he was going to slide between worlds.

Something was wrong with Oliver. That was clear enough for Christine to see, and probably for anyone else who might have been paying attention. Worried about him, she retrieved the other empty cart that she had pushed out into the emergency area and followed him.

"Oliver?"

Once Oliver was sure he was in a corridor that was deserted, he let go of the cart and just stood there, wondering how long it would take for the transition to another world to end.

He was relieved when he heard Christine's voice approaching. Turning to her and seeing her concern, he smiled reassuringly--it wasn't a fake smile this time, either. He could think of a few people who would have a Greek Temple in their worlds, and they were all people he'd like to see. "Hey, Christine," he said, still smiling. He didn't realise that, as the other world faded in around him, he was visibly fading out of Christine's. "Thanks again for taking me around your ship!"

"Er, sure, no problem," Christine replied, looking surprised. "You're fading out. I thought you'd sort of just vanish." All right, that was strange, but what wasn't when the Machine was involved?

"See you around."

"Fading out? Really?" Oliver was just as surprised as Christine. After all, from his point of view, it was the world that was fading. He held up his hands, which still looked perfectly solid to him. "Well, I think I'm about to--but it's okay. I can see the next place I'm going." He waved, squinting a little to pick out Christine from among the quickly-solidifying columns. "See you!" he called.

And with that, he disappeared.

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