I don't have a white horse, but you can come along for the ride.

[leverage_hitter]

Who: Eliot Spencer
When: Late evening, arriving at the Hotel.
Where: The lobby.
What: Eliot hates surprises...

Comments

[torchwood_doc]

"The Hotel controls everything, so if it's a someone- or whoever is using it is, then, yeah, probably." Someone! if it did turn out to be strangleable, whoever, or whatever it was, he'd be at the front of the queue ready and very willing to administer revenge.

"How long?" For a moment he faultered, time passed and you didn't think about how much had gone. There were none of the usual ways of counting the days, weeks, whatever. "Maybe couple of years," he replied, thinking back in an attempt to work it out.

[leverage_hitter]

If there was a someone, Eliot would conceded Owen's place in line ahead of him. He was perfectly okay with line jumping everyone else, though.

"Years? Years?" He just couldn't get his head around the idea. How could anyone stay in captivity -- even plush captivity like this -- for that long and not be stark, raving mad? Then again, maybe they all were. He sure as hell felt a psychotic break coming on. "Why aren't people looking for you? Cops, relatives, your Torchwood whatever..? How can people be missing for years and not be noticed?"

[torchwood_doc]

"I don't think they are aware that you're missing. Yeah, I know, no idea how, but what I do know, is that there are people here I know, who come from later in time and they weren't aware I was gone. In fact they know what eventually happens to me." Pausing, he blinked, realising how mad that sounded, oddly he had accepted it up to that point, having to say it out loud, suddenly made it sound... unbelievable!

[leverage_hitter]

"I think the scariest thing here is that I'm starting to believe you..." That, and the 'I-fell-asleep-at-the-wheel-and-crashed-now-I'm-concussed' theory was sounding better and better. He really needed to look into that MRI when he got home. When.

He ran a hand over his face and groaned. "This is way above my pay grade."

[torchwood_doc]

"Tell me about it! Not that it's going to sound like much help, but believe me, the best thing you can do is just go from day to day and get used to the place, at some point you stop counting days and ways to get out." What he didn't mention were the sudden bouts of suicidal madness that surfaced every now and then (at least they did with him.)

[leverage_hitter]

"Or open and close this door until it coughs up the bar again..." That was sounding like a pretty good option. Then again, he really did need to find his car. Perhaps take a look at the room he'd been given. Although, that felt like admitting defeat.

"That's possibly the weirdest thing I've ever said."

[torchwood_doc]

Owen snorted, then grinned. "Now there's an idea!"

"I thought you were FBI?" He queried, surprised at his comment about weird. "Thought that's what they specialised in?" On the other hand, he could be mixing it up with that X-Files programme he'd seen a couple of episodes of once.

[leverage_hitter]

"Depends on the branch," he answered automatically. Preserve the con was rule number one. Even more so now that he had Nate's voice in his head all the time, whether he was in comm range or not. The man was insidious. "Some work the weird shit beat. I'm in criminal theft and recovery."

That last part was actually the truth, from a certain bent.

[torchwood_doc]

"Right," Owen replied, he had only a vague idea of how it was supposed to work so if Robert said that was how it was, then he had no reason to argue the toss over it.

"You want to find your car, it'll probably be in the garage. That's always down, so just keep going and sooner or later that's where you should end up." Not completely accurate, but near enough. "You want me for anything I'm on the first floor, or there's the Network."

[leverage_hitter]

"Garage, yeah. That's a good place to start." Because, if there was so much as a stray fingerprint on his baby, there was going to be problems. He could handle a lot, but leave his damn car alone.

"Thanks. For your help." He nodded to Owen. Crazy as everything the guy said sounded, it was some information at least. A place to start. He could work with that.

[torchwood_doc]

Owen nodded, then moved away from the doorway. "Just take it easy, you'll soon get the hang of it. Oh, and if you feel the need to get destructive...." Smirking, he raised two fingers in the direction of the ceiling. "Go for it, they fix it like it never happened anyway, but it can be cathartic."

[leverage_hitter]

"Seriously?" Eliot couldn't keep the dismay out of his voice. What was the fun in wrecking the place if it got fixed right back up? Only half joking, he asked, "What about setting it on fire?"

[torchwood_doc]

"Can't remember anyone trying that- although the Hotel could probably remove the ability to set fire to something whenever it wanted to. Having said that, some of the cars in the garage got blown up not so long ago." Nodding down the corridor, he said, "Lift should still be down there, failing that use the stairs."

[leverage_hitter]

The idea of blown up cars did not set Eliot at ease. Now, he was damn sure going to check in on his car. He glanced in the direction Owen pointed and nodded. "Thanks, again, Doc."

[torchwood_doc]

Owen nodded. "See you around," then turned and returned to his search. Somewhere in this madhouse was a medical unit.