"Day three," Mark yawned as he stepped out into the quiet hallway. "It's been a day since the unidentifiable alien came through the portal. The portal hasn't acted up like that again though, but the scientists are talking about trying a rover with a camera on it. They're hoping to try living subjects like mice at some point, also with cameras attached probably, but..." Mark sighed and paused his steps, glancing down the hall where Amy had led him into the lab.

"The alien, as I mentioned in my previous log, cannot breathe our air, not for long periods of time at least, and is dependent on the environmental chamber for survival. Hopefully he's doing okay..." Mark frowned and shook his head, letting the recorder drop from his lips. He'd tried to focus on his assignments and field of work, but he couldn't stop thinking about the humanoid. And those wide eyes that had watched him leave, almost like he'd been pleading to not go, or to not leave him alone with the other scientists... But they were trained professionals, this was more in their field than his! He worked on mechanics and equations, not— ... Not living things.

But his curiosity tempted him, and he let his toes point down the hall and guide him toward the lab door. Since he was already here, maybe it wouldn't hurt to check in, and say hi to Amy. But halfway down the corridor he heard someone shriek, and glass shattered. His heart lept, and he scurried for the handle as soon as it was within range.

"It bit me!" A scientist Mark didn't recognize was clutching her hand, and through the glove were two little dots; a fresh bitemark. The chamber— the one for smaller samples, not the big one— was on the floor, a shattered beaker or two resting in pieces beside it. But they were looking near Mark's direction, and their gazes snapped upward to meet his bewildered expression as soon as he opened the door.

"What happened?" He exclaimed.

"Mark behind you!" Mark spun around to see the tail-end shadow of the tiny alien he'd originally helped secure.

"Whoa— w-wait!" He quickly pushed back out into the hallway, spying the little guy just before he turned the corner. He was so fast! Humans definitely weren't as spry in comparison, but Mark did his best to sprint after the creature. But when he too turned the corner, he was confused to not see the escapee anywhere. He halted, looked around to see that the hallway he'd been in earlier was still relatively empty— must still be lunchtime— but he warily kept his feet light as he took a few more steps.

"Uhm... H-hello?" He stopped next to some chairs that were placed beside a trash bin. He could hear just faintly the clamour of the cafeteria further down the corridor, but something made him stop here. Call it a gut feeling or a lucky guess, but he slowly dropped to one knee, then the other, and he carefully let his hands rest on the floor before leaning down and tilting his head, finding himself face to face with the humanoid alien once more.

The creature was struggling to breathe, that much was obvious, but what made the muscles in Mark's countenance soften was the fear in those silvery blue eyes. The jaws were still parted for air, yes, but the little muscles on the forehead were pinched, the shoulders hunched, and the tail tucked— a tail? Mark hadn't noticed that when he'd first seen him, but now he saw the fuzzy tail with a larger tuft of fur kinked around the tiny creature's legs, kind of like a jerboa. But then why was the little guy so easily cold at room temperature? Did it serve a different purpose, like more for balance than heat management? Or did that mean his planet was far warmer than Earth?

"Hey," Mark murmured softly. He wasn't surprised to see the alien wince in response, but instead was rather impressed to not see him run off again. "It's okay," Mark continued, keeping his voice as hushed as he could. "I'm not gonna hurt you. Do you remember me? I was the one that found you, after you came through the portal." The wide eyes remained trained on him, studying him. But before Mark could say any more, he heard the rest of the little lab group come up behind him.

"Mark! Are you okay?" Amy was quickly at his side, making the alien flinch and curl up tighter against the wall.

"Did you catch it?" The head doctor pressed. "Jamal came in and brought Alyssa to the medicare center, they're checking her now for any poison or side effects."

"I'm fine, but... He's really scared," Mark finally answered, keeping his eyes on the alien. "Did the chamber break?"

"No," Amy answered, "But there is a crack in it. We were trying to move him to the bigger one so he could have more room, but... I guess he thought that would be his best chance for escape."

"Well it thought wrong." The doctor scowled. "Amy, help me move aside these chairs. Mark, it'll probably take off that way, so be ready to catch it." Mark finally sat up to look toward the doctor.

"Wait, I-I can try to talk to him, coax him out of hiding."

"Mark, this isn't the time! If we delay for any longer, then it won't have the oxygen to do anything!"

"Mx, Mark was the one who found the alien in the first place," Amy suddenly piped up, "Wouldn't it benefit us if he was able to connect with it?" The doctor bit their lip, then sighed and shook their head.

"If it takes too long, then we're going with plan B." Relieved, Mark ducked back down to give the little guy a gentle smile.

"Hey." He slowly slid his hand under the chair, but he kept slow and steady despite the rising panic in those eyes. "It's okay, it's okay... I know you're scared, but we're trying to help." Mark closed his hand into a loose fist, letting it stop not too far away from the extraterrestrial, but respecting his space.

Mark watched as the little guy stared warily at him, but he held the tiny gaze calmly. He could feel worry making his own brow crease, with every strained pant the alien's chest heaved with. But he kept calm, and the apprentice watched as the little humanoid slowly uncurled, and then slowly approached. His steps were so faint that Mark couldn't even hear them, and light on his toes in case the human tried to snatch him up like the one he'd bit. And though Mark's knuckles did shift once out of restlessness, the alien had simply sprung back on shaky legs, before cautiously proceeding. When he finally reached the fist that was gargantuan in comparison, the strange organism hesitated before putting his tiny hands— with opposable thumbs, Mark noted with wonder— on the closest knuckle, leaning closer to give the tawny leather a suspicious sniff.

Mark held completely still, even holding his breath at the feathery touches, and counting down the time with his own lungs. They were running out of it, time, but he was awed to watch the alien sniff at his hand like a cat greeting a stranger.

"That's it," he whispered, hoping the doctor would wait just a little bit longer. He very slowly tilted his hand, laying it out open and slightly cupped. "Is it okay if I hold you? You've gotta be running low on oxygen now." The creature had recoiled cautiously, but now approached again. Mark bit his lip, noting how those eyelids drooped and jaws remained slack for desperate gulps of appropriate air. But, with the dwindling strength the little alien had left, he looked up from beside the hand to stare back up at Mark once more. Mark returned the gaze, hoping that the urgency was clear in his own eyes.

The alien looked back down at the hand, then finally put his own two on the plush padding at the edge. Mark's breath caught in his throat once more as the little guy rolled all the way onto his hand, curling up to fit perfectly in his palm.

"I've got you," Mark breathed as he slowly retracted his hand, and he lifted the creature up and out of hiding. Holding him again felt so strange, but the pulses of the lithe chest gasping for air was alarmingly familiar. Quickly, but carefully, he turned and moved back toward the lab, Amy and the doctor following close behind; Amy's expression was filled with both awe and concern, while the doctor looked moreso impatient or antsy for their schedule to resume.

With Mark's hand level with his chest to ensure the creature's safety, they quickly moved into the lab, beelined for the larger environmental chamber— keeping a wide berth around the broken glass, of course— and then Mark carefully lowered the tiny alien into the little glass enclosure. He tilted his hand, gingerly letting the little guy slide a bit before he caught himself and sluggishly laid down, and then the apprentice retracted his hand and quickly closed the hatch.

Amy was at his side again, pushing the same rapid buttons as she'd done before, and the air inside hissed as it altered to more favourable conditions.

"That was far too risky," the doctor sighed. "Did it bite you? You should go to the medicare center."

"I'm alright," Mark murmured, looking at his hand. He hadn't realized until they'd said something, but he hadn't even been wearing gloves. Yet he felt completely fine; lightheaded with both worry and amazement, if anything. Amy took his hand up in her own, turning it over to check his palm.

"No abrasions or signs of irritation," she confirmed. Then she gave a little smile. "No bite marks either. You are free of marks in all but name." Mark chuckled and shook her hands away with faux-offense.

"Why thank you, doctor," he reciprocated in an overly serious tone. But he failed miserably at squashing the smile on his lips.

"Oh please, I'm not a doctor, I'm a student," Amy giggled. The one who was more likely to be called a doctor, however, cleared their throat.

"Mark, I know this may be... Well, unorthodox, but this is an equally peculiar situation. Since you seem to be the most successful individual so far when it comes to handling the alien, would you be interested in working alongside Amy temporarily to help study it?"

"Can I?" Mark's eyes rounded.

"Of course, I'll talk to your mentor and we'll see about a change in assignment. I think a week at least wouldn't harm anyone, unless he urgently needs you for something."

"Oh, uh, not at all! I don't think so, at least." Mark shook his head and stood a bit straighter. "I'd be happy to give a week a shot," he assured. They smiled back at him, clasping their hands together with a bit more energy than post-biting.

"I'll inform him right away! Oh, after this glass gets cleaned up. Amy, could you lend a hand and help me make sure all the pieces are thrown away? Hand broom should still be in the closet, I'll get the cleaning supplies."

"Oh! Right, Mark watch your step."

"Wait," Mark spared a glance at the alien to make sure he was okay, then insisted, "Let me help."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course I am. If I'm going to be working here now, I should pull my weight." He moved toward the door in the corner of the room. "This closet, right?"

"Yeah, it's uh, on the bottom left under the shelves." Sure enough, Mark returned with the tools at hand, and Amy instructed him on where to sweep up the little shards from. As he did so, the doctor left to bring out the disinfectants; those beakers had been empty and thoroughly washed, fortunately, but it was better to be safe than sorry. Once the glass was all picked up, they teamed up to ensure the area was clean and safe once more.

"Hey Mark," Amy spoke up while washing their hands, "What did it feel like?"

"What did what feel like?"

"Holding him."

"Oh." Mark took a moment to think as he grabbed a decent pump or two of soap, scrubbing up to his elbows. "Well... He was heavier than I expected, but, not in a bad way, you know? He was just so fast and light-footed when I ran out after him— took off like a jackrabbit," he chuckled.

"Yeah, he did." Once Amy was done, she pat her arms dry, then threw away the paper towel so Mark could follow her lead. "You know, I've been thinking," she added, "We keep saying 'he', but we don't even know what he is. Or where he really came from, or even what to call him."

"Well..." Mark paused, reflecting on their conversation. It was kind of redundant to just call the extraterrestial an alien, wasn't it? Or a creature, a 'little guy', tiny... But a name... What name from earth would suffice, until they learned if this creature— ugh there we go again— had a name of his own?

"What about Jack?" Amy looked back at him as they stepped back into the main part of the lab.

"Jack?"

"Yeah. Like a jackrabbit." She tilted her head thoughtfully.

"I guess it does kind of fit," she agreed. "We have no idea if he speaks some kind of decipherable language, after all— actually, he hasn't said anything, all he did was squeak right before he bit Alyssa."

"He squeaked?"

"Yeah." Amy messed with the bun her hair was still up in. "Well— I don't mean to be patronizing, but it did sound kind of cute. Until he bit her, at least..."

"Small things are cute," he reasoned. "But maybe it was a warning for her to back off?"

"Well... He kept avoiding her hand when she was just trying to get him out of the small chamber, then he got backed into a corner. I guess he felt threatened by her."

"Has anyone else tried holding him?" Mark crouched to peer into the glass now. This chamber was most certainly bigger, allowing plenty of room to comfortably breathe and move around; yet somehow it only made the tiny— made Jack look even smaller, given he was curled up in one corner of the available space now.

"Nope. Just you." The apprentice blinked and looked back up at Amy.

"Really?"

"Yeah." She crouched down beside him. "I mean, there were a few attempts to grab him, but he reacted too hostilely, so they couldn't do any actual tests and just resorted to observational studying, to let him acclimate. But then you... He actually climbed into your hand. He let you hold him, and I- well, I still don't know how you did it." She gave a little laugh, looking a bit sheepish. "Honestly wish I did though. Seems like it'd be a useful trick." Mark looked back at Jack, gazing quietly at the curled up spine.

"... I wish I knew too."