《Retrograde Motion [SCP X Reader]》Chapter 11: Glass

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TW inaccurate depictions of psychological interviews, mc mentions not being sure if they like living

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|| Anomalies were out of the ordinary and you'd be willing to say the foundation itself an anomaly. ||

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You had rotten luck.

It was something you had come to terms with the moment you got dropped into this universe but that didn't stop you from complaining about it. You watched as Glass took a seat across from you, seemingly avoiding direct eye contact with you. He placed the clipboard down and adjusted his glasses.

"SCP [----], yes?" he started off.

"Mhm." You nodded.

"Alright." He quickly wrote something at the top of his clipboard. "I'll be asking you a few questions today."

"Before we start, can I ask something?"

"Sure thing, go ahead."

"Is this a psychological evaluation kind of interview or just a regular interview?"

Glass paused for a moment. It was a genuine question from you considering Glass was the Head of Psychology in the foundation and his location was supposed to be Site-17. Well, you couldn't account for everything seeing as people move and do as they pleased. Still, it was strange that Glass was interviewing you. Wasn't he usually doing psychological evaluations on foundation personnel?

"This will be a bit of both," the doctor answered.

"Alright." You could work with that. "Ask away, then."

The first few questions were about your medical records, family history, substance use and abuse, etc. To be entirely honest, you didn't remember everything about your records. You had them written down somewhere on paper for a reason.

"So, how would you describe death, [----]?" Glass asked after all the preamble.

"Hmm." You tapped the surface of the table. "Death is... empty."

"Empty?" he parroted.

"I die and I'm alone," you elaborated. "It's a void, for a lack of better words. Black, empty, and lonely. There's nothing. Nothing but me. Well, except that one time I guess."

"Someone else was with you?"

"Oh, nothing of that sort. I just remembered drowning once."

He hummed quietly so you continued. "It was still empty, that didn't change but it felt like I was drowning. Time turned back soon after so I don't have much to say about why that one time was different."

After writing something else on the clipboard, Glass continued with the questions. "Does it hurt while in death?"

"Dying hurts." You shrugged unsurely. "My neck getting snapped hurts. Getting shot hurts. But, sooner or later, death will claim me and there'll be nothing. I guess, long story short, death doesn't hurt unless you count emotional pain or whatever your mind conjures."

Glass nodded at your words. "How long would you say staying in death lasts?"

"A few seconds, maybe? It's hard to tell. Oh by the way, can I get a watch?"

"I'll put in a request for one."

"Thanks."

He smiled. "What would you say has been the longest you've gone back in time after your death?"

"Nothing longer than five minutes so far but how long I go back has always been subject to change," you answered. "It's always been however long I need to avoid the previous death I guess?"

"Reasonable."

"I haven't gotten trapped in an infinite death loop yet," you nonchalantly said.

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"... Ah." If Glass had something to say about your statement, he didn't voice them. He coughed and asked the next question. "Would you consider yourself immortal?"

Ah, that was a good question, wasn't it? What did it mean to be immortal? Most say it means to live forever. An endless life unhindered by death or decay. Was it the soul that lived or the body that existed? What did it matter? What made a true immortal? Would their soul be untouched by death? Their mind unhindered by the darkness?

Living forever was a little vague, you mused.

You had hardly lived at all.

"[----]?"

You blinked. Your eyes focused on Glass who sat before you, a concerned look present on his face. You hummed, tucking a strand of your hair back in place.

"Sorry." A placid smile appeared on your lips. "No."

Something flickered across his eyes and he nodded, flipping to the next paper attached to his clipboard. Your smile faded into something more neutral. He cleared his throat and swiftly changed the question.

"Dr. Smith reported that you had foreknowledge about SCPs though they didn't report the extent of it."

"That's because I didn't tell them."

Glass tapped the head of his pen against his cheek. "Would you be willing to answer?"

"Well..." you hummed. "It's complicated."

"We can break it down together," he offered because he was nice like that.

"Ah, I don't really mean complicated in that it's hard to understand, it's just..." You gestured vaguely into the air. "Complicated and I don't particularly feel like telling the foundation."

Complicated as in this reality was shifty like the ocean. Everchanging, shifting to match whatever the universe willed it to be. The doctor nodded like that was what he had expected you to say. "A rough estimate would be appreciated though."

Maybe you'd be willing to give him a rough estimate. You appreciated Glass, character or person in front of you, enough to tell him that, at least. The foundation would likely never realize the true extent of your knowledge anyways.

"Let's just say I know too much."

"I wonder if that includes foundation staff," he murmured under his breath as he added to his notes.

You only smiled.

"It'd be wise to tell the O5 to not stress too much about this," you advised. "They'll know sooner or later how much I know. I doubt they'll listen though."

"Breaches of information does tend to be a concern of the foundation's."

"Fair enough."

Did it really count as a breach of information if your information came from another universe? Technicalities, technicalities... Actual breaches of information or secrecy were none of your concern. The foundation could deal with it with amnestics and whatnot. Glass tapped his pen against the clipboard. You waited for the next question.

"How are you feeling?" Glass asked at last.

You stared at him. "Pardon?"

"How are you feeling?" he repeated. "How have you been spending your time while in your containment chamber? Do you have any concerns?"

You were almost certain this was the first time anyone's asked how you were feeling since arriving at Site-19. It felt strange. How were you supposed to answer? Glass was soft, yes, but logically, you knew he didn't really care about you specifically. SCP objects were labelled as items for a reason. Did it matter how you felt?

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Did the foundation see humanoids as humans or were they just objects? A sacrifice to normalcy to maintain the illusion of mundane life. One of many sacrifices. Who cared what you thought. Who cared how you felt. As long as you were sitting in your cell, locked away-

You were getting off track.

"I'm okay...?" you answered slowly. "Um. I wasn't expecting that question."

Did "okay" feel like a lie? You weren't sure.

"That's understandable," he assured as though he wasn't the first person to ask you how you were in a long time.

"I haven't really been doing much while in here. I read, request more books, sleep." Monotone. Your days in the containment chamber were monotone. It was better this way, in a sense. Monotony was nothing new to you even before this. You knew how to deal with it. Unfortunately, you had a feeling that things were bound to get interesting in the foundation.

Anomalies were out of the ordinary and you'd be willing to say the foundation itself an anomaly.

"I haven't really spoken to anyone outside of interviews," you told him. "No one around is great for conversation, no offence."

"None taken."

"But other than that." You shrugged. "I don't do much at all."

"Have you felt uncomfortable talking to anyone here?"

"Not really."

Some questions were perhaps more personal that you would have liked but you could always be cryptic. Glass hummed at your answer. "Have you felt sick since your arrival? Any pain, headaches, or difficulty remembering things?"

"I remember fainting after leaving the gate but I've been feeling fine since. Beside the whole-" You mimed slitting your throat. "-thing."

"Have you felt on edge or anxious recently?"

"Imagine not feeling on edge in the foundation. Couldn't be me. But, I don't feel particularly anxious. Unexpected things will happen, I've accepted that. I'll just have to deal with it."

"Would you consider yourself a realist?"

You shrugged. "Sure."

You certainly weren't an optimist. Glass flipped the paper over the clipboard again. His brow creased at whatever was apparently on the page before his expression smoothed out. Tilting your head to the side, you asked, "Something wrong?"

"Ah, no. It's just..." He pursed his lips. "The next few questions are about 035."

Something must have shown on your face as the doctor stifled a small chuckle. "Not fond of your meeting with him?"

"It was something, I guess." You sighed.

"I see. There aren't too many questions left so this will be over quickly."

"Gotcha."

"While you were near 035, did you hear unintelligible whispering and or had migraines?"

"I heard the whispering which was ominous but also useless. I didn't get any migraines."

"Did you feel the urge to harm yourself or anyone else while there?"

"Not any more than I usually do."

The doctor stared. You continued to smile pleasantly.

"Huh," Glass said. "Okay."

"Next question?"

"Sure." He cleared his throat. "How much do you know about 035?"

A complicated question depending on what was canon. The most popular interpretation, and also the one you were most familiar with, involved Alagadda, also known as SCP 2264. Supposedly, SCP 035 was the Black Lord, one of the four advisors to the Hanged King. Things happened, a political backstabbing occurred, and he was exiled to the universe of the SCP foundation.

Fun.

"It depends," you settled on telling Glass. "It's a matter of, it might be true, it might be false, it might only be half-true."

"So, your information is incomplete?"

"Doc, there are over 6000 SCPs, of course my information is incomplete. As I told Dr. Smith, I'm not omnipotent nor am I able to bend reality to fit what I know. It's a little too close to playing god if you know what I mean."

"Omnipotence plus reality-bending does make for an unpleasant combination," he agreed.

"Only fools wish to become god. Just like how only fools wish to be immortal."

"Talking from experience?"

"Nope, just thinking." Only half a lie.

"Alright, then." You were pretty sure this would come up later at some point but Glass seemed to accept putting it on hold for now. "What's your opinion on 035?"

"General opinion, he's interesting. Dangerous but interesting," you said. "Personal opinion? I don't like him very much."

"Any reason for that?"

"Uhh..." You faked a cough. "He called me "interesting" when we met during the containment breach. That in itself feels a bit damning. He's definitely going to poke and prod if we meet again."

"About that meeting..."

You groaned as Glass winced. "They're making me go talk to him aren't they."

"It's unfortunately out of my-"

"It's fine," you interrupted. "I was expecting it to happen at some point."

"Sorry," he still apologized.

"Not your fault, don't worry. I still think that giving 035 a new host is an incredibly bad idea though." You huffed. "God knows what they're thinking doing that. It's like they're asking him to kill me."

"Do you dislike it?"

'Please don't play the pronoun game,' you thought to yourself. Outloud you asked, "The idea of talking to 035?"

Glass shook his head. "Living."

"..." Leaning against your arm, your head resting in your hand, you answered, "I don't know. I don't like dying but I don't know if I like living either."

There's a flash of something that passed the doctor's eyes as his body stilled. You averted your gaze to your bookshelf.

"... That's all the questions I have for you, then," Glass said after a stretch of silence, unclipping all the papers to shuffle them into a neat pile. He recliped the papers to the board. You nodded as he stood up and pushed the chair back in place.

"Goodbye, Dr. Glass," you said.

"Until next time, (Y/n)," Glass replied as he left. You could see a faint smile crossing his face before the door shut. You peered through your lashes. Strange. Just why did he decide to use your name rather than your SCP number?

It seemed every time an interview concluded, you were always left with more questions.

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New SCPs in this chapter:

SCP 2264

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Published: September 29, 2021

Word count: 2,088

Death Counter: 7

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This has been a very wordy (? dialogue-centric?) chapter. Say, mc hasn't died in a while, huh? School has started again for me and this chapter is 1 day early because I'm bored. Thanks for reading!

Edit: I forgot to mention but I have a writing tumblr so if you'd like to chat about this fic or get spoilers about things I'm planning feel free to ask at "occasionalsnippets"

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