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Gray is no stranger to pain

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Gray is no stranger to pain. She is a stranger, however, to feeling no pain at all. Thus, when she awakes to no sense of distress, she knows something isn't right. The second indication that something is amiss: whatever Gray's laying on is a lot softer than her mattress in her apartment. And finally, Gray is usually awoken with honking cars and remnants of a nightmare—not the sound of faint Christmas music and the scent of spicy food.

In conclusion, Gray is most definitely not at her apartment.

Her body seizes up involuntarily. Gray wills herself to relax. If she were in a hostile environment, then her only advantage would be that she seemed unconscious. If she were to jerk or wake up, then she'd lose the chance to establish her surroundings. Gray's breathing returns to normal just as something looms over her. Instincts set in and Gray's senses run into overdrive, trying to detect any semblance of a clue. She's in an unfamiliar place—that was established. She can hear pen against paper and the sounds of something metal hitting a tray. The scent of rubbing alcohol stains the air. Hospital? Is she in a hospital? Her breathing starts to speed up without her notice. Something encircles her wrist. Before panic seizes her, Gray reacts. Her hands spark, and the scent of burned hair fills the air as a young man screeches. Gray leaps to her feet, her eyes ablaze, and brandishes a nearby scalpel.

A young man on the floor clutches his seared wrist. "Why did you do that?" Sid incredulously crawls away from the crazy girl in front of him. His hair sticks up in various angle as his face is flushed from his sudden fall to the ground. Gray is torn between throwing the scalpel and demanding where she is. She settles for glaring thunderously. She can always maim him afterwards.

The blindingly white walls remind her of a hospital, but now she knows that's not where she is. The room is too decorated to be a hospital room. Movie posters line the cloudy gray walls, and there's definitely a giant hole hiding behind a sketch of a tiger. In front of her, a cabinet remains open with a list of substances taped to the inside of the door. The shelves are lined with chemicals she assumes are written on the list.

She's in a lab.

The realization strikes her as obvious now, but the uneasiness doesn't fade. The young man growls, his dark eyes flashing, and stands up. "Do you have any goddamn manners? I get a bullet out of you and you electrocute me?"

Bullet? Suddenly, pain explodes near her abdomen. Ah, how could she have forgotten? She took a bullet for Redvale's beloved crime fighter last night. Had it been last night? She can't be sure. There's no telling how long she had been out.

"I don't know who you are." Gray scowls, stiffening. The pain settles into a dull ache she can ignore, and she sits back down. Her hands grip the cotton material surrounding her. Gray's on a cot of some sort, and her neck is stiff from sleeping on that rock she presumes is a pillow behind her. There's a giant rip in her homemade suit near her stomach. Her lips settle into a frown as she examines the rip where she assumes the bullet had entered. Great. She will need to fix that.

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