Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Yeah, whatever.  I’ll go talk with the representative.  Meet you later, Emily.  Love you.”  Jesse Faden finished her phone call and sighed.  Goddamn bureaucrats, she thought.  She stared up at the portrait of the definitely-dead Director Trench.  

It was the only one she had kept.  She didn’t do portraits.  She waited for a moment, half-expecting the phone to ring again.  It didn’t.  Instead, there was a knock at the door.  “Come in.”, she called out to whoever was there.  The door opened, revealing none other than Dr. Casper Darling.  

After his ordeal in the Astral Plane, he was ready to get back to work.  Understandably, he was angry that Director Faden had given his position away to Emily.  He softened after Emily said that it wasn’t like that anymore.  They would share power, although butting heads at times.  

“I have the files you requested.  I had to look through my offices for them, but here they are.”, he said, dropping a hefty stack of papers on her flawless desk.  “Thank you.  Are there any other skeletons in the Bureau closet besides the Prime Candidate Program that you’d like to tell me about?”, she asked him.  

“Not that I know of.  I didn’t know everything Trench knew.  I’m not omnipotent.”, he replied, turning and walking away.  Jesse followed him, only for a little bit.  The cafeteria was calling to her like a siren’s song.  She knew there were coffee and donuts in there.  

She entered and saw the line.  Although most people in the Bureau would happily move aside for her, she didn’t want to be rude.  So, she used her telekinesis to simply grab a donut and move on.  The residents of the Oldest House were used to it by now.  

Just as she was going to take a bite, the floor fell beneath her.  She tumbled into the white of the Astral Plane and found herself face-to-face with the black inverted pyramid that was the Board.  

In the distance, she saw a man with a red amulet and white lab coat floating as well.  She couldn’t understand what the Board was saying to him.  Then, it spoke to her.  

        <Director/Sacrifice Faden>
<You are the gift/liaison to the SCP             Foundation/Jailors>
<You must establish a link/connection>
   <Or be kept endlessly/indefinitely>
           <Good luck/riddance>

           This couldn’t end well.  

Chapter Text

“Come on, please get up!  I have five guard and an SCP to counsel!”, Dr. Simon Glass begs his boyfriend, who stubbornly keeps his seat on his lap.  Dr. Bright had had a long night.  He was not going anywhere any time soon.  

“Seriously.  The first session starts in twenty minutes.  Go get me some coffee or something.”, Glass says, grabbing his glasses and putting them on.  “Fine.”, Bright replies, finally standing up. 

Off on a mission to retrieve coffee for his boyfriend, Dr. Bright runs down the hallway at full speed.  Thankfully for the rest of the staff, he does not scream “THE KETER IS LOOSE!”, while running.  It happened before, and a new recruit was trampled into the ensuing stampede to the one safe room on the level.  

The break room is empty, but the coffee in the coffee maker is still hot.  ‘Somebody must have just been here’, he thinks, taking two Styrofoam cups and filling them.  Strangely enough, there are exactly two blueberry muffins left at the snack area.  Perfect.  He takes the muffins and the coffee back to Dr. Glass’ office, happy with completing the one task he has to do today.  

Otherwise, this day is boring and mundane.  Well, as mundane as the SCP Foundation can ever be.  With shit like SCP-173 around the corner and SCP-682 below your feet, it’s hard to ever feel safe.  Even though he knows he can’t die.  Dr. Bright is perfectly aware of the mortality of everyone close to him.

”I got your coffee, honey!  We have to go out for dinner tonight!”, he says, trying to be a little bit happy.  Lately, all Bright feels is numb.  It’s normal.  Not good or bad, he guesses.  

“Thank you.  And we should, perhaps that new Italian place that opened last week?”, Glass suggests.  “Sounds perfect.  Love you, I’m going to go fuck around until it’s time to go.”, Bright replies.  

Oh, to have all the time in the world to be alone with your partner.  At least it wouldn’t be long to wait.  He’d amuse himself by reading SCPs on the database until it’s time to get ready.  

The clock shows that it’s 4:30 PM.  30 minutes until Dr. Bright has to go.  What to wear?  Not overdressing nor underdressing is key.  Indecisive, he stands in his everyday clothes, a lab coat and standard Foundation attire.

Until everything goes white.  An inverted black pyramid looms before him, awe-inspiring and massive.  A woman in a suit can be seen in the distance, holding a black gun that seems to shift.  

Fuck.  Shit like this happens JUST as he was about to go on a date. What shitty luck he has.  First immortality, and now this?  He’s starting to believe that the universe actually does hate him.

Then, the Triangle speaks.  Not words, that’s for sure.  Like static, but not static at the same time.  

<Trouble/Spill/Not Clean in both universes>

<You are the liaison/gift to the Federal Bureau of Control/The Board/The Oldest House>

<Purge/Assist the Resonance>

<Or be corrupted/detained/forgotten>

<Good luck, Outsider>

Fuck.  This cannot be good.