Jon squinted as his eyes adjusted to the light. The doctor who had spoken was a woman in her mid-30s with chestnut brown hair held in a messy bun. She adjusted her glasses anxiously and glanced to her companion, a younger looking man, maybe mid-20s, who was a bit overweight with a noticeable beer gut, sand blond hair, and his own worried expression. He gave his companion the stink eye, "she can't respond to you. We haven't released motor function yet."
She?
"Oh, of course," the woman muttered. She paced back to the door and made sure it was closed before she waved her hand over a panel and soft light bloomed from the ceiling; it wasn't blinding but Jon was no longer in darkness. She turned back and smiled at Jon in a way he assumed was meant to be reassuring but really wasn't succeeding. "uh, I think we should probably fill her in on, the situation, before we do that, right?"
The man rolled his eyes, "I don't know. There's not exactly a manual for what to do when you ignore all the safety protocols."
"Hey!" The woman snapped, "I am your superior still, Markus. I don't have to take that tone."
"You're my superior with the company, Rachel" the man named Markus shot back, crossing his arms, "now that we're co-conspirators or whatever, I figure we're all equal."
The woman, Rachel, looked like she was about to argue further but she took a deep breath instead. "You're right, I'm sorry Markus." This seemed to mollify him and he uncrossed his arms. Rachel turned back to Jon. "Okay, can we release the vocal chords alone?"
"I think so," Markus said after looking over the machines for a moment. He hit a few buttons then turned back to Jon. "Hey, uh, Jon, can you talk now?"
Jon had a hundred questions, but having noticed how easily sidetracked these two seemed to be, he instead just blurted out the most pertinent, "what happened to me?" only to gasp in shock when the voice that escaped his lips wasn't his own.
