Chapter Text
The air around Lance was tense, fear clouding his thoughts. It was Saturday. All of his friends were in Silvia’s office, all facing a life or death situation. Whether they join the SCP division as researchers and doctors or they are given Class-D positions. Or maybe they’ll be watched their entire lives. He wanted to know. But he wasn’t in the office.
As he was absent for most of the week; Keith, his loving partner, has left him paperwork to do. He’s left them in SCP-085’s observation room. He hasn’t met the SCP yet, but he wanted to check in on it. Maybe it would try and ease his worries.
Like, Superior Silvia wouldn’t turn them into Class-D personnel… right? They have so much potential in them, and they’d be great help around the division. Sure, Adam and Shiro would have to resign from the air division and be part of the research team. Maybe they can check SCPs that are stationed all around the world! I mean, they wouldn’t be the ones putting their lives in danger anymore. Plus, he’s heard that the salary of the SCP division is way more than any other divisions the Garrison held.
The observation door opened, revealing the simple set up that was the same for every other observation room. A table and a chair, facing the large one-way glass. Sure enough, a folder of files was on top of the table, a paper clip holding everything together. He grabbed it and looked over to the glass, looking into the containment room.
There was a lonesome piece of paper on a table. That can’t… possibly be an SCP, right? But if they have an IKEA as an SCP; almost anything can, he guessed. Shrugging, he went out of the observation room and into the containment room. He had to make sure no containment breaches were made. After the incident with SCP-040, which led to the mess of last week, he wasn’t risking anything.
The door hissed opened, letting Lance stepping into the room. He walked over to the table, taking a good look at the piece of paper. There was a drawing of a woman, curled into a ball. Was… was this a sort of joke? Was this an actual SCP? “U-uh… hi there! I’m Lance,” he hesitantly greeted.
At once, the girl shot up and looked at the Cuban. Her gaze was confused and in shock. Not to say that Lance wasn’t equally surprised. “OH MY GOD, YOU CAN MOVE!” He said as he took a step back. The girl looked at the boy before extending her hands and started to say something in sign language. It made sense, she was a drawing, after all. Sound must not be able to travel out from the paper.
“You’re not one of the usual doctors that visit me…” the girl signed, hands moving delicately. It was quick, but not too quick. Just enough to get her message across as fast and clear as it could. “I’m Cassandra. But call me Cassy.”
The Cuban smiled down at the drawing, “It’s such a pleasure to meet you, Cassy. And no, I’m not a doctor. Well… I am, but- uh… I’m an SCP, like you. I’ve just been given permission to take care of other SCPs and test them.”
He watched as the girl seemed to perk up, a small smile drawing itself onto her face. “Oh! So, you understand how lonely it gets in containment, right?” She looked down at her hands, flexing them before signing; “You understand how wrong our existence is… right? How unnatural we are and how… we shouldn’t exist?”
The man froze. He didn’t expect these types of questions so early on into the conversation, but he supposed he should have expected it. “Containment does get lonely… At least you’re classified as safe-class, almost anybody can just stop by and greet you,” his warm smile turned sad as he looked away from the drawing.
“See, my first years in containment; I was classified as a keter SCP. I saw everything as a threat, I trusted nothing. And as a result, I have used my abilities against staff and guards. I'm sure I've taken a few lives already, but I can't remember. It was probably because of the tests and training I’ve been put through because of my doctor. I’ve been moved down to Euclid after I got into the care of Doctor Holt, but every time I look back on those years; the word keter would drill itself into my head.”
Cassy covered her mouth in shock, almost wanting to reach out and comfort him. She knew it was impossible, but she couldn't help but hesitantly raise a hand to him. He was tearing up a bit, grabbing the sleeve of his uniform jacket to try and ground himself. “But… even if our existence isn’t welcomed in this world, seen as anomalies in society, I think… we’re put here for a reason. Sure, we never asked to be born like this… but there must be a reason, right?”
Those words, that he has a purpose in this world, is the only thing that kept him going through the first years of containment. When he was shoved into his room after training and tests, his exhausted body would use the last of his energy to curl into himself on the floor. That thought would circle around his mind.
‘He’ll leave one day. This torture wouldn’t stay for the rest of his life. He’s been given this power for a reason. He’s here for a reason. He’s not a mistake. This wasn’t a punishment. He was meant to exist.’
But there were days. There were days when dark thoughts started to crawl into his head and made a home in his broken mind. ‘What did I do to deserve this? No one should go through this. You’re locked up because you’re a monster. You shouldn’t exist. You’re a mistake. Get rid of yourself. Get rid of anything that hurts you. No one can save you. No one. Monster.’
Ever since he’s been in the Holts’ care, those thoughts only came when the lights of his room were turned off and no one was there to occupy his thoughts. But ever since he’s left containment, those thoughts never came back. The last time he’s felt them crawl back into his mind was when the others found out his secret.
For Keith, all he felt was anger. Maybe because he gave his trust to him when he asked. Maybe it was because he never felt so much love for anyone before, and it scared him. And the fact that that person he loved so much would betray him like that sent him into a rage. He snapped out of it as soon as he realized that he could never bring himself to hurt him.
As for when the rest of the group found out, those thoughts buried themselves into Lance’s mind like a parasite. Constantly reminding himself that he should have seen this coming. He’s a monster that should be kept in a cage, if not killed. The fact that Pidge had called him a monster didn’t help either. Those thoughts buried into his mending mind, making him break down into tears. He couldn’t bring himself to hurt them either. It was his fault, anyways.
Looking at Cassy, who was scared and filled with so much despair, just made him think of his past self. So, he smiled; trying to get the drawing to do the same. “I’ve been in your shoes before, Cassy. Trust me when I say that our existences are no mistake. Trust me.”
That talk with SCP 085 had lifted a boulder of worry off of Lance’s chest. As he was comforting Cassy, he was comforting himself, too. He had left the room with a few drawings he found in the table’s drawer, obviously to let Cassy play in the different artworks. The girl can transfer herself onto other papers and art, taking the art style of the paper if it wasn’t blank.
She asked him to draw a scene for her, and Lance couldn’t bring himself to object. She asked for a puppy, new clothes, and food. She commended his art skills, saying they were much better than what the doctor’s have drawn for her. He was thankful that the Holts were nice enough to let him have these habits when he was in containment, his former doctor saw it useless. She didn't provide him anything but food and psychological trauma.
There was a drawer in the table, containing print outs of famous paintings. He set them down on the table to let Cassy explore every single one. It gets boring in containment, after all, it wouldn’t hurt to have a little bit of entertainment.
He walked down the halls, heading to the elevator to get to the Superior’s office on the top floor. He started to think about the situation his friends were in, but he couldn’t help but feel like Superior Silvia would never waste amazing potential. Like Keith, she probably already had her eyes on them.
His mind was so preoccupied, he wasn’t paying attention to where he was going. Turning a corner, he had hit someone. Lance dropped the folder in his hands, the paper clip doing nothing to stop the papers from spilling onto the ground. “O-oh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t notice you- I’m so sorry,” Lance rambled as he knelt and grabbed the files.
It surprised Lance when the person he had bumped into also knelt down, helping him pick up the papers. The stranger laughed, voice smooth and almost like it was weaved from silk and velvet. “No need for apologies, meeting a pretty star like yourself is always welcomed.”
“O-oh, okay! I’m still sorry, though.” The Cuban said as he picked up the last of the files. He looked up, taking an actual look at the man’s face. Long white hair was pulled into a ponytail, blue eyes were sharp as they stared back at him. A black turtle neck and pants were draped with the usual white lab coat doctors wear. He had a cunning and sophisticated look to him. “Have I seen you somewhere before?”
The man hummed, “I’d remember meeting someone as exquisite as you.”
Lance ignored the statement, tapping his chin as he tried to remember the man. “Ah! You were at the shooting at target a few weeks ago! I’m happy you survived it.” The Cuban smiled as he stood up, the man following him. “I’m surprised you work in this division, though I can’t say I’ve seen you around the division before.”
He didn’t recognize the man, but that wasn’t too abnormal. The SCP division is vast and the floors just keep getting deeper and larger with each SCP kept. Of course there would be doctors and staff he didn’t meet with. He just wanted to start some sort of conversation.
“I am stationed somewhere else, actually. I just came here to attend to a task that is of utmost importance,” The man replied, keeping the easy smile on his face as he handed the files he picked up back to the SCP.
Lance grabbed the files, smiling back at the man. “Please, don’t let me keep you! Don’t want you to be late.”
“Actually- “the man handed another folder to Lance, it looked identical to the folder he had. It must be some sort of policy to have all files in a long, brown folder with a paper clip. “You would be an absolute help to me if you hand this folder to Superior Silvia right away. My time here is limited, and it would help ease my mind.”
The Cuban grabbed the folder, “That’s perfect timing, actually. I’m on my way to her office right now. I’d be happy to give this to her for you."
“Thank you, you have no idea how much help that is to me,” the man said.
“It’s no problem, really!” The SCP spoke up as his left hand kept the two folders close to his chest.
The man grabbed his free right hand, bringing it to his lips and leaving a delicate peck on them. Lance was taken aback by the gesture, confused by how sudden it was. “You have my greatest thanks. I look forward to working with you, Lance. Please, tell the Superior that the folder is from Lotor.”
Then the man was gone, walking past him. But Lance was too dumbfounded to stop him. He didn’t remember giving Lotor his name. He shrugged it off. Maybe other doctors knew his name because he was the only SCP in staff? Yeah, why else would he know his name?
The office door silently opened, letting Lance step into the room. Only Superior Silvia noticed his presence, as his friends’ backs were turned to him, but she only offered a knowing look to him. He caught on to the conversation quickly.
“It would be an honor to work under your division, Miss Welburns. But please, let us all think over this. Give us until Monday,” Shiro said, the rest of his friends nodding.
The woman closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath. “Of course, this is after all your decision. I do appreciate you all giving this job a chance. I can give either Sunday or Monday as a test day, as I have done with all the other people that are given this opportunity.”
When everyone said their thanks, Lance stepped forward. “Thank you so much for letting my friends have this opportunity. I still can’t help but apologize again. Everything is my fault, after all. If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have this problem to begin with.”
“Lance, it’s my fault. Stop blaming yourself,” Pidge spoke up behind him. She still didn’t stop apologizing to the three, even going into tears as she apologized to Olia before they went in the office.
The Cuban shook his head, chuckling a bit, before setting down the folder onto the table in front of him. “Also, this folder is for you. It’s from doctor Lotor.”
The smile on the woman’s face dropped, her eyes widening in shock. “Wait, did you say-“
She was cut off with the sound of the alarm blaring into the room, the office flashing red. In the speaker system, a voice rang out.
Code Black, SCP-682 has breached containment. Code Black, SCP-682 had breached containment. Code Black, SCP-682 has breached containment.
That sentence repeated itself over and over. On the other side of the door, loud footsteps ran down the hall. Doctors must have been panicking, trying to get out of the building as fast as they could. Ignoring the confusion of the people in front of her, Silvia opened the folder in front of her. There was a single paper, pinned down by the paper clip.
SURPRISE.