TW suicidal implications? It'll probably come up often.

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|| "Good! Maybe if we're both lucky, I'll stay dead!" ||

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"Time loops," the doctor repeated. "I know enough about them."

"It's pretty simple," you said, shrugging in the same way that people did when they thought they were uninteresting. "Basically, when I die, I'm dropped back anywhere from a few minutes to a few seconds before the death happened."

"I see," they mumbled, probably writing it down on the clipboard.

"But time travel, in and of itself, is sort of complicated. I've got two main theories about the whole timeline thing." You held up two fingers. "The first is that I'm dropped into a parallel universe that's just a little bit before when I died in the other universe. The first universe then continues on with my death being permanent while I live in the second universe. My second theory is that the entire universe literally goes back in time with the timeline where my death happened being erased."

You paused for a second to let them write down your thoughts. "There's another sub theory that I go back in time and the point where I died becomes a branch of the timeline and each new reset creates a new branch, if that makes sense."

"Do you know which one is correct?"

You stared at them. You literally just said they were theories, not facts. If you knew which one was true, you wouldn't say they were theories! Sighing, you answered, "Of course I don't."

"Hmm," they tapped the pen against the clipboard. "How many times have you died so far then?"

"Not that much." You vaguely waved your hand. "Enough times."

Enough times. Enough times to know what to do to live. The foundation didn't need to know the exact number. They didn't need to know anything. You were definitely going to die in the future anyways. What use would a number be now? You shifted in your seat, bringing one leg over the other and waited for the next question. The doctor flipped a page over the clipboard.

"About the containment breach, how did you know what to do?"

"Like, in general?"

"The keycards, dealing with the SCPs, the gate, everything."

"Everything. M'kay. First of all, you guys leave files everywhere. Have you considered organizing better? There were at least 5 papers I found scattered on shelves for no reason and I get that you're probably in a rush during breaches but some of them were so random. As for keycards, you guys also leave those everywhere. I found the level 4 keycard in 049's room and level 5 keycard in 106's containment chamber. Why was that there?"

"Okay fair," they muttered quietly.

"You should really be more careful with where you put things. As for dealing with SCPs, well." You shrugged. "Trial and error I guess? I figured it out eventually I suppose. And for the gate... Are you aware of the deal 079 and I made?"

You were only half lying when you said trial and error. Sure you may give them a wrong impression of how many times you died but trial and error was true. Just not always with your life. Some things you figured out by virtue of playing the game. Even then, the game was also a lot of trial and error.

"No. The foundation has not interviewed 079 yet."

"Okay, you probably saw through security footage, I disabled remote door controls. But that wouldn't open the gates. So, I went to 079's containment chamber and he struck a deal. If I enabled the controls again, he would unlock the doors to Gate B."

"But you exited through Gate A."

"Well yeah, he said he'd only open Gate B but he also opened Gate A and well, Gate A was the first one I found so that's the one I exited through. Funny how it ends like that, huh?"

The doctor tilted their head at you and squinted, pausing in their note writing. "Did... did you purposefully allow the foundation to contain you?"

A faint smile appeared on your face. Propping your arm up on the table, you leaned against your hand. That was for you to know and for them to guess. It didn't matter whether you did let them contain you or not, this just happened to be the outcome. You gave them a brief shrug as an answer. "It doesn't matter."

It wouldn't matter now and it didn't matter before.

"Alright... What did you speak about with 035?"

"You guys also didn't interview him?"

"The foundation doesn't always have the luxury of time."

"Okay, valid, and it's probably better you guys didn't give him a host either way. Also, isn't there a microphone to pick up audio in the cell?"

"035 broke it."

"Ah." You nodded. Understandable. "Did you hear my side of the conversation at least?"

They shook their head.

"Well, he struck a deal," you said. "He said that if I let him out, he would get us both safely to the surface. And then I called him a liar."

The doctor choked on their spit. You patiently waited for them to finish. Oh, you would have to take a psychological evaluation eventually didn't you. 035's file said something about anyone who came into contact with 035 while he had a host needed one or something. As they stopped coughing, you raised an eyebrow. "You good?"

"You realize 035 is dangerous right?"

"There are so many things that are dangerous in this world, doctor."

"Including you?"

Especially you.

"Perhaps."

They shook their head and grumbled under their breath about something. "Regardless, was that all that happened during your conversation with 035?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

"I see." The doctor sighed while flipping the pages on the clipboard back into place. "That will be all for now then."

For now. You knew there would be more questions later. You watched as they got up from their chair as they ran their hand through their hair. A few strands of white glistened in the artificial light. You wouldn't be surprised if those hairs were from stress. The foundation did deal with dangerous anomalies all the time, most or many of which could kill someone. Death did always loom over the organization.

"Goodbye."

X.x.X

The foundation, you begrudgingly admitted, was kind of okay. No one had come to bother you for the next few days, aside from bringing in food and sometimes books you had requested. Unfortunately, staying in one room with almost nothing to do was incredibly boring. You were pretty sure you weren't even classified as an SCP yet. Just some random subject. That was fine by you, of course. Not like you had any power to actually change your classification.

You spent most of your time reading and sometimes observing the people outside the window. You pondered what they were doing. Waiting for you to do something? Writing reports? It didn't matter much what they were doing. Aside from the occasional argument you'd hear through the glass, they remained mostly quiet.

That's why, about one week after you woke up, you wondered what argument was happening this time. You had become intimately acquainted with the fact that the walls were not soundproof. From what you could see through, there was a new person outside your cell. He didn't look like anyone you recognized who was assigned to you. He was arguing with some other doctor.

Your expression soured as the door to your cell opened revealing the new doctor. He had a look on his face that just screamed over confidence. Half of his shirt was untucked and you could make out a lipstick mark just under his collar. As he strutted into your cell, he tossed a folder onto the table you were sitting at. He pulled the chair out and collapsed onto it. You sighed.

You were almost certain he was new to the foundation.

"Hello," you greeted out of courtesy.

"Subject [----]-[-------]," he replied.

"Where's the usual doctor?"

"Busy, 'm the one asking the questions today." He smirked.

You rolled your eyes at his tone. "Ask away."

Despite the fact you said "ask away", you tuned out the moment he opened his mouth. Choosing to ignore him was a conscious decision. Vaguely, you heard him drone on and on and on with all the confidence of people on twitter speaking over minorities. You answered some questions cryptically, others not when you bothered to pay attention enough.

He was getting frustrated with your answers, you noted.

That was fine. You didn't care for his approval. You didn't jump as he slammed his hands down on your table and began shouting.

"Answer the damn questions, subject [----]-[-------]!"

"I am answering them," you replied calmly.

"Don't play sly with me."

"I'm not." Amusement seeped through your voice. You wondered how long it would take for him to leave or kill you.

As it turned out, not long as he pulled out a gun right after. You blinked a little at the sight, watching his hand tremble as he pointed the gun at your forehead. Well, that sure escalated quickly. Was this guy even cleared to have a gun on him? You pressed your forehead against the barrel of the gun nonchalantly, staring straight into the doctor's eyes.

"Resorting to violence now, doc? Makes me wonder what other things you've got stashed in your pockets."

"I wouldn't have had to do this if you just answered the questions." He grit his teeth.

"Why should I? It's nothing the foundation doesn't already know."

"You know that isn't true."

"Oh really?"

"Cooperate with us and I won't blow your brains out."

"Oh! So you think you have the guts to shoot me!" You harshly slammed your hands against the table and stood up. "I bet you're just a f*cking coward who can't even defend their points in an argument without getting thinking everything is a personal attack on you!"

You ignored the fact that parts of this argument was, in fact, a personal attack on him. He began spewing some bullsh*t in an attempt to justify himself but you weren't paying attention. Instead, you were focussing on a pocket in his lab coat. There was a slip of paper in the pocket. Seeing as you pretty much already knew how this would end, it wouldn't hurt to just steal the paper would it?

The doctor was rambling at this point, barely even paying attention to you. Yeah, you'd be able to steal it no problem. Slipping a hand into the pocket, you pulled out the paper and unfolded it. Time rewind... code... 8463... Ah. Folding the paper back up, you dropped it back into his pocket.

"You stupid-"

"If I'm being uncooperative, why don't you just shoot me doc?" you cut him off. He sneered and pressed the gun harder against your skull. "Go on now! Shoot me! Do it! What's the matter? Too much of a coward to shoot one person?"

"That's it," he snapped. "I'm killing you."

"Good! Maybe if we're both lucky, I'll stay dead!" You laughed.

"You're a monster."

With a click, he pulled the trigger. A bang echoed out as a bullet lodged itself into your head and you allowed yourself to succumb to the darkness once more. That exchange went pretty well you thought as you waited for time to reset. Hopefully, you'd never have to see this guy again after this. As expected, when you opened your eyes again, you were sitting in your chair again and the doctor sat in front of you.

"Your code is 8463," you spoke, cutting him off.

The doctor was startled for a moment. "Pardon?"

"Your code is 8463," you repeated slowly. "You can leave now."

"What-"

The intercom buzzed as someone outside your containment chamber began speaking. "Doctor, exit the containment chamber."

"I'm not done," he protested.

"I will not repeat myself, exit the containment chamber doctor."

He clicked his tongue. "Fine."

The doctor begrudgingly stood up from his chair. As he left your containment chamber, he gave you an odd look. When the door finally slid behind him, you let out a sigh. Finally, he was gone. You leaned back into your chair and closed your eyes. On the other side, you heard someone whisper something to the doctor who just exited. Something about a psychological evaluation with Dr. Glass.

Oh well. It wasn't something to concern yourself with. Picking a book off your shelf, you sat back down. Surely this day wouldn't have any long term repercussions!

X.x.X

A few days later, your usual doctor returned to your containment cell. Exhaustion laced their features. This time, they had a couple of clothes with them. They dropped the clothes onto your table before sitting down. You eyed them curiously.

"What's up?"

"Congratulations, (Y/n)," they said dryly, "you are now officially classified as SCP [----]."

A frown crossed your face. "That really doesn't feel like something to congratulate me about."

If the doctor's smile felt like pity, you didn't mention it.

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New SCPs in this chapter:

N/A

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Published: July 15, 2021

Word count: 2,164

Death Counter: 7

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