Chapter Text
Down a dusty, crumbling road, a nondescript Jeep rumbled. The color was plain and the condition was fine, adding up to a completely unassuming and boring car. The kind of vehicle anybody might drive, not enough to spare a second glance. The interior was the same, slightly worn seats, tidy dashboard, nothing of interest, not even an air freshener. The occupants, despite looking clean-cut and normal, were a different story. The man in the passenger seat pulled out his phone, scrolling through secure emails.
"Field Agent Jeff 'Oriole' Whitehill and Field Agent Sam 'Kestrel' Connell, report effectively immediately to Site-14 for immediate debriefing, following excursion and subsequent containment of previously unknown anomalous artifact," The man read off, before looking up, "Sam, I know it gave us the location, but you're sure you're going the right way?"
"Positive," You affirmed, eyes sliding over the road, "Buddy of mine was transferred here a while ago. Started crying, since he hated cacti. And parks," You frowned briefly, "Think he was afraid of the color green, actually."
"Well, I for one am very excited about this location," Jeff decided, setting his phone away and glancing back out the window, "I've never been to this facility before."
"We've only ever been to Site-15," You reminded.
"All the more reason to be curious, then," Jeff smiled. He leaned back in his seat, drumming his fingers on his pants, "I hear they keep 049 in this one."
You barely shifted your eyes, grunting vaguely, "Hm?"
"The doctor. Plague doctor. The one that kills people by touching them," Jeff explained, comically hovering his hand near your shoulder, "One touch, and bam!" He brought his hand down, "Dead."
You only blinked, before smiling almost imperceptibly, "Why, Agent Whitehill, how on Earth did you find that information? Were you, perhaps, snooping in Foundation resources?"
Jeff took his hand back as if stung, "Never!" Then, quieter, "I mean, not usually, at least. It's just, well, there's only so many times you can read the same book on a road trip before you decide to look around the library, you know?"
"At ease," You rolled your eyes, "I was just pushing your buttons. I'm sure there's not an agent out there that doesn't do that."
"Oh, right," Jeff laughed a little, "Wait, do you?"
"Hell no," You smiled, "After all, I've got a partner who does it for me."
"Ha ha," Jeff huffed, pushing up his glasses, "Next time, I just won't tell you about the cool stuff I found."
It was an empty threat, and they both knew it. But, the rest of the conversation was put on hold, as a large facility came into view on the horizon. Both occupants of the car settled down, setting their faces into neutral masks, before you carefully pulled the car forward to the checkpoint.
"Identification?" A security guard stepped forward, staring impassively ahead. You pulled out the proper papers, handed them over. The guard glared incomprehensibly, before flipping through the files and entering in a few commands on his datapad. The computer behind him made a series of complex noises, before buzzing once, at which he nodded a single time. He looked back up.
"How long will you be here?" He asked. Your blank expression faltered in a moment of surprised confusion. No one had ever asked that question at a checkpoint before.
"A few days, at max, before we head back out," You smoothly replied. The guard grunted, nodded, before handing your identifications back and waving the car in.
"Since when do they ask how long we're staying?" You muttered, shoving the papers into the glove box.
"Maybe they're just weird at this facility," Jeff shrugged, popping the gum in his mouth.
"I never thought I'd miss Site-15," You grumbled. The car was soon quietly pulled into a parking area, just another generic vehicle amongst a hundred others. As you both got out, Jeff whistled.
"It's kind of dusty in here, innit?" He gestured at the other cars, while you took your ID papers back out and set them into an inner coat pocket.
"It's not that bad," You scoffed. Your scoff was invalidated a moment later when Jeff ran his finger over the window of another Jeep, leaving a line in the layered dust, "Oh. Huh."
"It's probably just the place where they store their operative vehicles, right?" Jeff attempted, though his eyes held a touch on uncertainty. You shrugged. The issue was put away, in the mental folder of 'things we will not think about once we leave', as was often the case with Foundation operations. More walking, before you both came across the elevator that would lead down into the facility itself.
"Just a few days," You reminded, leaning against the wall as Jeff punched the correct buttons, "Then, we can go back to just being plain old suburban police officers," a brief pause, "Or paramedic, in your case."
"Sometimes the monotony is nice," Jeff smiled, blowing another tinted bubble, "The soccer moms don't usually try to cause an XK scenario."
"Maybe for you," You closed your eyes, "But if I have to respond to another call about bake-sale territory infringement, I'll personally designate them as SCPs and take them to Site-15."
Jeff made to say something more, but then the elevator doors slid open, and you both quickly regained your faces in. A series of visor-wearing guards stared hard, guns ready for any sort of altercation.
"Welcome to Site-14," The commander greeted, stepping forward, "Let me see your identification papers, and you'll be on your way to debriefing."
As you handed the papers over, and submitted yourselves to the rigorous scanning and verification, you noticed Jeff's nose crinkle minutely. The moment the guards had stepped away, Jeff shifted his head, angling towards you.
"They haven't showered in weeks," He murmured. Your eyebrows shifted upwards, and your carefully cultivated expression of professionalism cracked ever so slightly.
The rest of the scan passed quickly, though your nose occasionally twitched. By the time it was over, you wanted nothing more than to scuttle away to a bathroom and shove an air freshener up your nostrils. Jeff seemed to share the sentiment.
"Agent Whitehill, we'll debrief you in the nearby office," The commander stated, gesturing, "Agent Connell, your debriefing will be on the other side of the facility. Just follow the signs until you get to Room 23."
Jeff's eyes flicked over to you, but neither of you said a word against it.
"Of course, sir," You nodded, sparing Jeff a brief yet reassuring pat on the arm, and leaving the room. Following the directions of a few guards, you managed to make your way towards the designated area. The walk was monotonous, which was unsurprising, given that Jeff was gone. Rarely, you'd pass a guard or scientist, but eventually even that ceased, until you were alone entirely. Your few carefully whispered curses at the size of the base were left unheard, as you stalked down the desolate halls.
"Fuck. Did I take a wrong turn?" You muttered, stealing a furtive around. No signs, no dice, just grey, sterile concrete, dim lighting overhead. You turned around, ready to go back and retrace your steps, only to pause. Very faintly, you could hear a cough. Not a loud sound, but in the silence of the corridor, it was deafening. You contemplated calling out to see who it was, but a strange feeling in your gut urged you not to. And considering your line of work, you decided to do as suggested, and instead creep silently towards the source. Careful steps brought you to a large blast door, rusted and decayed, and you frowned at the sight. The yellow informational sign didn't make the frown go away, either.
"SCP-049. Class: Euclid. Sentient and violent," You read, the lettering half torn away. A picture of a humanoid in plague doctor robes, piercing eyes, stared back. Your finger taped the image, glancing around, "Sentient and violent, huh? Wonder where all the guards are at."
You shouldn't be snooping, you knew, but curiosity tickled you, and so you decided to press your ear to the blast doors. Just for a moment. Soon, that moment turned into a minute, then five, and just as you decided that you were being ridiculous, you heard it again: the cough. It was wet and gross sounding, the kind that ended with lungs rattling, then terrible silence. You found yourself pulling back and looking around, wondering if you should report that to a researcher, then you realized that you were worrying about an SCP, of all things.
"Great, now I'm turning into Whitehill," You shook your head, walking back down the hall to where you came. But, not before pulling out your phone and texting your partner.
Kestrel: Hey, are you out?
Oriole: yah im good. it was weird though
Kestrel: ?
Oriole: they didn really ask me about the skip we found. kept asking about our experience. think they wanted to get rid of me
Oriole: nervous too. twitchy. thats the last time I capture a skip in this sites territotye
Kestrel: I just went past SCP-049's containment cell. No guards around at all, or scientists. Completely empty.
Oriole: thats weird
Kestrel: I heard this coughing coming from inside the chamber too. Sounded like the thing was sick, maybe. I feel like I should report that to a researcher.
Oriole: ill check the docs an see what that could mean. maybe 049 just does that kinda thing
Kestrel: Gotta go. Made it to the debriefing room.
Oriole: be safe!!
You slid your phone into your jacket, just as the debriefing room came into view. A blink, and your tense expression was tucked away, exchanged for the professionalism you strived for. The twin guards on either side of the door nodded at you, before letting you enter. The room itself was threadbare, with a table and chairs, but little else. A person slightly obscured by shadow sat in the chair farthest from you, flanked by more guards, along with some recording devices and a few other miscellaneous things. You took the empty seat.
"Agent Connell," The interviewer greeted, "Would you like something to drink?"
The offered water bottle was tempting, but you shook your head, "I'm fine. Thanks for the offer."
"Of course," The interviewer cleared her throat, "If you could, please explain exactly what happened regarding the anomalous artifact you encountered."
"Three days ago, Agent Whitehill and I ventured out to the town of Irving, Wyoming, in order to retrieve requested materials for our precinct. During that time, we received reports of strange activity in the town library. Sudden bursts of drowsiness, inability to concentrate, and an intense feeling of apprehension- should the sufferer remain in the location for long. Upon hearing this, Agent Whitehill and I decided to investigate," You recalled, stating each memory with efficiency and clarity.
"Yes. It says here that at the time, you were unsure if the anomaly was hostile or not," The interviewer flipped a paper over, "And you still went to investigate?"
"Of course. Just because we're foundation agents doesn't mean we shouldn't try to defend the citizens as best we can," You affirmed. The interviewer smiled, which was odd, before scrawling something down and murmuring 'intense dedication'. You decided to continue.
"We entered the library at night to minimize potential casualties, should the recon go south. Initial results were fine, and so we pushed further in, until we narrowed down the origin of the events to a replica suit of medieval armor, located in the basement of the library. At approximately 0200 hours, Agent Whitehill made contact with the anomalous object. I noted–" You stopped as the interviewer gave you another smile, of varying tightness at the edges.
"You've been talking for a while. You should have a drink," She suggested, nudging the water bottle towards you again. You blinked.
"I'm fine. Thank you again," You cleared your throat awkwardly. The interviewer's smile only grew.
"Are you sure? Alright. Please, continue."
"Yes. I, uh, noted that the effects in the vicinity stopped once contact was made. We decided that the object was safe enough to radio in, as well as set up rudimentary containment procedures to ensure ease of transport. After that, we waited for the containment team to come over, at which the library was cordoned off on pretense of temporary power failure. The armor was retrieved and sent back for further investigation, at which we were informed to come to Site-14 for debriefing," You finished, absently straightening out your jacket.
"Commendable effort, Agent Connell," The interviewer jotted more notes down. She looked up, but something in her eyes made me lean back unconsciously, "I think you'd make an excellent addition to our team."
"What?" You managed, "I must have misheard you, ma'am."
"Hm. Tell me, how do you feel about the Foundation?" The interviewer asked.
"I enjoy working here, and find the environment pleasant," You stated. Odd questions.
"You seem like the hard-working individual. Would you describe your partner as the same?"
"Agent Whitehill is one of the best men I know," You replied.
"Would you call yourself inquisitive?" The interviewer's pleasant smile was entirely gone, morphed into something just close enough to be unnerving. It was the eyes, really. Not warm, but not clinical either. Hungry, and not in the way of physical lust. You reached for the water out of instinct, just to give your hands something to do, but stopped. Like a hawk, the interviewer noticed instantly.
"Oh, please, have a drink. Don't mind me," She gestured. You shook your head.
"Force of habit, ma'am."
"I insist," The interviewer narrowed her eyes. Your entire body tensed, like a cobra, and you found that you didn't much like the feeling you were getting, like a rabbit in an open field.
"I drank some not too long ago. I'm fine," You repeated, a little bit more forceful. The smile drained off the interviewer's face. A beat of silence.
"Agent Connell, I'm afraid we must conclude the interview here," The interviewer stated. She gathered her notes, "You're given authorization to stay a day or two to recuperate, before returning to your posting alongside Agent Whitehill. A room has been prepared for you, with directions sent to your account."
You shot up and out of your chair with slightly more power than intended, snapping a nod off, and a quick, "Thank you, ma'am," before hurrying for the door.
"Oh, and Agent Connell? Be sure to stay hydrated," The interviewer stared directly at you, into you, and you could only managed a sharp affirmative as you backed out into the hall. The two guards at the door continued to glare at you, but it seemed more worrying than before. You pointedly walked down the hall at a normal pace, before slipping away into a bathroom and slamming the door shut. The sound of the lock was an immense comfort, and you whipped out your phone, putting your back to the door as you opened your secure messenger.
Kestrel: Get down here.
Kestrel: Now.
Kestrel: [Current Location Status]
Oriole: whats wrong??
Oriole: im almost there. if youre in trouble, stay safe
A knock at the door, followed by a very low bird call. You let out a relieved huff, before unlocking the door and hurrying Jeff in. He stared at you in confusion.
"What's wrong?" He asked. You locked the door and turned back.
"Don't drink the water here," You stated. Jeff blinked. He didn't even get time to ask why before you cut him off, "The interview. Tried to get me to drink the provided water. Almost forced me to. The interviewer was really intense about it."
"Maybe they just really care about your hydration?" Jeff attempted. You frowned.
"They didn't ask me about the skip, aside from the general encounter. Just general questions about me, and you as well. And the water thing, too."
"It was the same for mine, too, now that I think about it," Jeff tapped his chin, "But, without the water. Do you think there's something wrong?"
"I hope not. Maybe I'm just remembering it wrong. Either way, I'd feel safer if we didn't drink the water," You decided. Jeff shrugged.
"Okay, let's get the waters from the car later and bring those. And the MREs, too, since I imagine the food here uses the same water too."
"I'll see if I can email Site-15 about this, just to get their opinion on the matter," You pulled out your phone, already opening the emails, "When they say it's nothing, then I can feel like an idiot. But for now, I'd rather be safe than sorry."
The two of you exited the bathroom and made your way to the room, preparing to get some rest. A day, max, then you'd leave. At this rate, you even found yourself missing 079. At least he was predictable. Here, you weren't even sure if you could trust the water