Hello :)

Before starting a new fic, I always write a somewhat long AN to explain to the readers what the story will be about and this time will be no different. So brace yourselves, boredom is coming. XP

Well, I (obviously) played The Evil Within and loved. And, as a nice fangirl, I came to fanfiction to feed my game-obsession with stories about it. I found some nice fics and some not-so-nice and they all gave me inspiration to try my hand at one.

This fic might be a bit different than the usual TEW fics around here. Yes, it is OC-centric and it will show the development of a relationship between the OC and our favourite villain - well, there's Wesker so... second favourite in my case (sorry, Ruvik) - but it will NOT start on the game. As a matter of fact, most of this fic (if not all of it) will happen on years prior to the murder spree in Beacon Mental Hospital. I want to focus on the hospital, on the creation of STEM, on Leslie, on Ruben-Ruvik, on Jimenez and Mobius and, of course, on the development of my OC's personality and career.

So... if you're strictly looking for a 'girl ends up inside STEM and Ruvik obssesses over her' kind of fic, I'm sorry but this is not it. However, if you're willing to try something new and give this a chance to grow, welcome aboard! I really hope to write an interesting and believable story, while keeping the characters IC but working with a very different take on their development.

It's a difficult project I have in mind, so I really hope that you'll help me out by dropping reviews/PMs with critiques, suggestions, pointers and corrections (English is not my first language, so mistakes might happen).

That said, I really hope you all enjoy this! :D

Warnings for the whole fic: mentions of human experimentation; some bad language and adult situations (I don't intend to write much explicit scenes; only what I find essential to the development of characters and their relationship). Eventually, I will up the rating to M.

Disclaimer (valid for all chapters): I don't own The Evil Within or its characters. Only the plot and OCs belong to me.


Weep not for roads untraveled
Weep not for sights unseen
May your love never end
And if you need a friend
There's a seat here alongside me

Roads Untraveled - Linkin Park


How the hell had she come to this?


Going to Medical School had never been Sofia Prieto's dream for life; she had wanted to be writer. A work that required lots of research and - she believed - close to zero interaction to people.

However, both of her parents were doctors - cardiothoracic surgeons to be exact - and they didn't give her much of a choice in the matter.


"You'll learn to enjoy it, Sofia. Surgeries are an acquired taste."

"When you first hold a patient's heart in your hands… the feeling is indescribable. You're practically their god."


Well, Sofia had finished Medical School and had the chance to scrub in some of her parents' surgeries – most times off records, of course. She hadn't learned how to enjoy it, and she sure as hell was able to describe the feeling of holding someone's heart in her hands.

It was warm, red, slippery and very, very unpleasant.

One of the few things worse than that was talking to the patients. And how they loved talking! They would talk of everything about their lives, describe to the most extreme details how awful was the end of their relationship or the loss of a loved one, but, for the life of them, they couldn't describe how exactly was the dman pain in their chest or remember the meds they took.

When she began her residency in Cardiothoracic Surgery, as her parents wanted, Sofia thought things were about to get better. As much as she disliked people, Sofia was a perfectionist and never backed away from a challenge, so participating in surgeries could actually be fun for her. And, the most important thing: people don't talk when they're under anaesthesia, so she would be mostly free of that annoying chit-chat that always accompanied the anamneses.

How wrong she was…

With surgeries, came things much, much worse: talking with the patients' families and friends.


"Why does he have to go in surgery?"

Because he is composed by 200 pounds of fat, eats like a pig, spends all of his day sitting on a couch and now one of his coronary arteries is so narrow that not even one erythrocyte can pass through it.


"Is she going to be alright? Promise me, she is going to be alright."

Do I look like God to you?


"What do you mean he is dead?! What have you done?!"

Spent the last 9 hour inside an OR, doing the possible and impossible to save his life, you ungrateful prick. It's not my fault there was nothing I could do.


Sofia's residency program lasted less than 3 months before she quit and delved into the one thing of her Medical education that she enjoyed.

The academic life.

Sofia lost count of how many hours she spent reading about the new researches going on all around the world. Now that was some Medicine that she could enjoy practicing. People would be replaced by non-speaking and adorable mice; her crazy working schedule that barely allowed her 5 hours of sleep per night would now allow her frequent good nights of rest; and the best of all: no more patients dying on her hands.

Ironically, the area of research that most interested Sofia was the one involving the very thing that made humans talk and complain: the central nervous system. Despite disliking almost all of her time in Med School, Sofia's grades had been the top of her class – courtesy of her parents being complete slave-drivers – so it wasn't long before she got a spot in the Laboratory of Bioneurology in the same hospital her parents worked. It was a low-paying function with very little recognition from most of the doctors, but she didn't mind. In Sofia's opinion, research was the true way to get close to God; instead of holding the life of one person in her hands, she could now work on medicines that would save millions at a time.

However, her parents didn't agree with her. Be it at the hospital or at home, they would pester and pressure her into getting back into the surgery program. Despite having now a job she truly enjoyed, Sofia's life was still descending in a hellish nightmare.

She wanted out.

So, she started sending her résumé to any laboratory outside of the city she could find. She focused on brain-research, but, at that point of the game, she would take any offer that would take her out of her parents' house.

Needless to say, Sofia was elated when she received a job offer in Krimson City, a metropolis located 306km away from her hometown.

And it was not just any offer. It came from none other than Marcelo Jimenez, the researcher of authority when it came to the workings of the mind. Sofia remembered how reading his theories about the STEM system – the possibility of linking minds – made chills run down her spine. The good sort of chills.

However, the offer was not perfect.

Yes, she would be allowed the chance to contribute to Dr Jimenez's revolutionary research, however, since he was also the director of a hospital – Beacon Mental Hospital, for the psychologically ill – it was required of her to initiate a residency in Psychiatrics and work with the hospital's patients. Sofia, the doctor who disliked people, would have to become a psychiatrist.

Well, Sofia thought as she wrote her reply, you can't make an omelette without breaking some eggs.


Sofia first met Jimenez in the corridors of Beacon Mental Hospital. The man was walking with one of his patients, holding his arms softly as he guided him through the corridor. The patient was an albino boy that seemed unable to raise his eyes from the ground.

"Dr Jimenez." Sofia called as she marched towards him. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I've been a fan of your work for years now."

Jimenez raised his eyes from his patient with a polite smile on his lips. "Ah, yes, thank you, Miss…?"

"Sofia Prieto. I'm the ne-"

"The new resident, of course." The man let out in sudden realization, offering one of his hands for her to shake. "I was very pleased by your acc-"

His words were interrupted by a pained whimper coming from the boy's mouth, followed by tortured whispers. "Pleased… pleased… pleased…"

"I'm sorry, Doctor Prieto. Leslie here has to follow s strict schedule, else he gets very… restless. If you don't mind following me, I can answer the questions you're sure to have."

Sofia was quick to fall into step with him. "Sure. Sorry for interrupting you."

"Well, as I was saying, I'm very glad you accepted my job offer. Your curriculum shows you're a very promising researcher."

"Thank you, doctor. However…"

"Yes?"

"Despite my grades in college I really don't have much experience with Psychiatry. So I can't help but ask: why did you hire me to become one of your psychiatrists?"

"Well, I'll be frank with you." Jimenez began. "Usually, I wouldn't hire someone as inexperienced as you, however, lately my research has been going through an amazing progress and I am in dire need of a helping hand. A helping hand that hasn't yet been ruined by all of our… rules. I need someone that can understand the importance of my research and the possible need of, maybe, ignoring some of Medicine's limited protocols."

Sofia blinked, not really sure what he meant.

"You think you can do that, Sofia?"

However, at that moment, she was not about to give up that job for nothing in the world.

"Count on me, Dr Jimenez."


Sofia had to break more eggs than she expected.

Helping Jimenez in his research was everything she expected and more. Currently, they were working on stabilizing a STEM system with mice. It was astoundingly difficult to successfully create a bond between the adorable rodents' brains without damaging them beyond repair, but she was sure that, with Jimenez's tutorage, it wouldn't take long to make it. To every problem that appeared, the Doctor was quick to come with an answer or a way to contour it, as if he had already seem that problem before. Thanks to him, in less than three months, they already had more than enough material to publish a complete article about their progress in the development of the STEM system.

However, her mandatory residence was harder than she thought.

The adorable mice she interacted with in the lab were replace by very crazy patients and - in her opinion - an even crazier psychiatrist that she had to follow around like a mute puppy during his interviews with the patients. His name was Antoni Márquez and he was every bit the slave driver her parents were.

The man had Sofia by his side every second of his working hours, claiming that, since she didn't go through a Psychiatry internship as she was supposed to – she needed as much training as she could get if she ever wanted to be a half-decent psychiatrist. Márquez was right, but the problem was: Sofia didn't want to be a psychiatrist. She wanted to be a scientist. Purely and simply.

But, since there was no way around it, Sofia held her tongue and complied to his demands with a forced smile on her lips. Demands that obliged her once-intended afternoons in the laboratories for work in the Psychiatric ward. The only time she had to contribute to the STEM research was the night time; she lost count of how many times the bed in the small apartment she was renting was replaced by the couch in the Doctors' Lounge.

Still, Sofia got to work with the genius that was Marcelo Jimenez and she didn't have her parents nagging her at every second of the day anymore, so she considered herself lucky.

That ended on the end of her first year in the hospital, when Antoni Márquez called in sick and told her to tend to his patients. On her own.


The first patients weren't really such a bother to Sofia. Strangely, she found that spending two hours locked in a room talking with a mild schizophrenic, an anorexic and a depressed person much more interesting and less nerve grating than talking to a bunch of "normal" people. At least, when those people talked about their everyday problems, they were talking about actual diseases, and not about how annoying it is to have such a lazy husband, or how their teenage children are always worrying them. And, truth be told, it was much more interesting to listen to someone talk about a huge, world-wide conspiracy to kill all of the mosquitoes of the world than to listen to the last episode of some dumb-ass show of rich girls wasting money.

The fourth and last session of the day began at 4pm and was the one Sofia was more worried about.

And she had reason to. The patient she was about to visit suffered from paranoid psychosis and was known to get extremely aggressive when he felt cornered; he had to be treated with infinite tact and she did not feel ready for it. The fact that he was almost two metres tall and 90kg didn't help to ease her worries in the slightest.


Two male nurses stood with Sofia in front of the door of her last patient's bedroom. They were always there in case something went wrong.

"Hello, Charles." The doctor greeted softly as she knocked on the door of the patient's room. "Do you remember me? I'm Sofia Prieto. I've been coming to see you with Dr Márquez in the last months."

From between the bars of the door's window, she watched Charles pace around the room, waving his arms in random directions before he stopped and whipped his head to look at her. Sofia smiled in what she hoped was a reassuring manner.

"Dr Márquez won't be able to talk to you today, so he has asked me to come and see you instead. Is that alright with you?"

Her answer was a grunting noise and the restart of his pacing.

"Can I come in, Charles? Please?"

At the last word, Charles stopped pacing again and sat down on his bed, though his arms, hands and fingers never once stopped moving. It was her sign to come in.

"I'm opening the door now." Sofia spoke, nodding at the two nurses to stay outside the room.

"How are you feeling today, Charles?" Sofia asked, sitting on the ground in front of him a couple of feet away from his bed. It was a strategy that Dr Márquez had taught her; making herself look smaller made Charles more secure of his own power in the room, reducing the chances of him lashing out.

Charles' eyes remained glued to the floor, unseeing. "Bad. Very bad. I'm not good for your plans."

Sofia sighed internally; it was one of those days that Charles was more in his own, paranoid world than in reality.

"I have no plans for you, Charles." The woman spoke calmly, slowly. "What about you? Do you have plans for yourself?"

His arms stopped mid-air, in a strange snake-like position, before resuming their movements.

"You're trying to fool me. I know you have plans for me; for all of us. I know what you do at night."

"Charles, I spend most of my nights in the 1st basement, playing with cute, little mice. And most of the staff goes home at night; the few that remain here want to sit back in the staff room and take a nice nap. I'm sure no one is planning to do anything with you."

"Liar. I saw it. I saw you taking them to away and they never came back. You want to take me to…" Suddenly, his arms started to move faster and he raised his eyes to Sofia's; they were wide and fearful. "…but I won't let you."

Sofia's own eyes widened in fear when Charles' large frame stood up from the bed, however she remained still, not willing to scare him with sudden movements.

"Sit down, Charles. We don't want the nurses to come in. You remember what happened when they came in last time, don't you?"

The man's arms paused for a moment and he sat down again. When he resumed talking, his arms resumed moving.

"Yes. They made me sleep."

"And it doesn't feel good when they make us sleep, does it?"

"No. I wake up feeling real bad."

"So, you're going to behave so we can have a nice and calm conversation, right?"

The man's eyes flashed with distrust and cunning, but it was too brief for Sofia to see. "…Yes."

"Good. I'm very proud of you, Charles." The doctor spoke softly, before reaching into her white coat's pocket to grab a small, plastic vial with Charles name on it. Inside the vial, there were three different pills. Slowly, she raised the vial so Charles could see it as well. "You remember what these are, Charles?"

"My remedy."

"Exactly. This morning, you took some just like these, no?"

"I did." Charles lied; his morning pills had been spat into the toilet and were now somewhere in Krimson City's sewers.

"Good. I'll stand up now to give you the pills, alright? Then we can continue our nice talk."

Sofia started to stand up, but halted for a moment when Charles suddenly spoke.

"Can I have water?"

The doctor blinked. She had been visiting Charles two-three times a week for the last 6 months, but it was the first time he had ever spoken directly to her. Even when she offered him the drink, he ignored her completely. Maybe, now that Dr Màrquez wasn't with her, Charles felt comfortable enough to talk to her.

"Sure. There is no problem at all." Sofia spoke with a small smile and moved to the small side-table in the room, giving her back to the patient.

As the doctor filled up a paper cup with water, she didn't notice Charles stand up from the bed and walk towards her. Only when she turned around and saw the man's large frame towering over her did she notice her mistake. Never, under any circumstances, give your back to psychotic patients.

"NUR-"

Before the whole word could leave Sofia's mouth, the paper cup fell to the ground as Charles' large hands encircled her neck and tightened. She felt her trachea collapsing beneath the force of the man's hands and she saw his scared and desperate wide eyes staring at her, but not actually seeing.

Automatically, she raised her hands to grab at Charles' wrists, but it did nothing to lessen the hold he had on her neck and, before she knew it, her vision was starting to blur. Sofia didn't listen to the bedroom's door slamming open, nor did she see the nurses injecting a tranquilizer in his jugular vein, but she did feel her body falling to her knees and the air starting to flow into her lungs once again.

Coughing and holding her sore throat, Sofia raised her eyes to see the nurses carrying Charles to his bed and strapping him on it.


After the incident, Sofia and the two nurses went to Jimenez's office to report the occurrence. The head-doctor mumbled some words of apologies and gave the nurses the rest of the day off - which it was not much, since the expedient was due in less than two hours anyway – as a dismissal, obviously too occupied to worry about a minor incident like that.

He offered Sofia the rest of the day off as well, though not before telling her how he'd wish to have her assistance in the lab later that night, since they were going to try once again to stabilize the mice with the STEM system.

Never one to back down from anything, Sofia swallowed her need to accept the offered time off and nodded her head in agreement.

And so, Sofia found herself unable to go home and with a couple of hours to kill before it was time for her to go to the lab. However she also didn't want to have to face the questions that would surely come from the rest of the staff if she went to the staff room to relax.

And because of that, the woman started marching to the hospital's small playroom. The room was usually full of patients from a wide range of ages, however, on weekdays, it closed at 16:00. Right now, 16:57, the place would be empty for her.

Or so she thought.

To say that Sofia was surprised at seeing one of the patients inside the playroom past "curfew" would be correct. To say that she was shocked at seeing that said patient was none other than Leslie Withers – one of the few that Dr Jimenez took the time to see personally, at least once a week - would also be correct. To say that she felt her blood pressure rise at seeing him unsupervised would be wrong. She was actually pretty sure an aneurism had formed on one of her brain arteries.

However, Sofia was too exhausted to hunt down the nurses supposed to be watching the boy and chew their ass, so she just took some deep breaths to calm herself down and walked into the room slowly, dropping her body on one of its colourful beanbags.

She watched Leslie pause what he was doing and turn his head in her general direction, thought never raising his eyes from the floor, before resuming his activities.

Silently, Sofia spent some minutes observing Leslie. The boy was in front of her, hunched over a corner of the room, stacking some building blocks while murmuring words to himself. Whenever his stack of blocks fell to the ground, he'd repeat the process.

As Sofia scanned Leslie's figure, she couldn't help but frown in distaste. His hair was shining with excess grease; his clothes were far too large for his thin frame, making her wonder how well they were feeding the boy. Beneath his eyes, she could see dark spots that seemed to be petechia – the boy could be throwing up what little he was fed. His feet were dirty and bare on the cold ground. From the distance she couldn't be sure, but the boy's teeth seemed to be yellow an chipped and she had no doubt that his breath would smell terribly. Maybe she'd just have to push away her exhaustion and deal with Leslie's situation anyway. Whoever the boy's caretakers were, they were doing a deplorable job.

And she would not spare words in telling Dr Jimenez that.


"So, let me see if I understand the situation: you're accusing my staff of neglecting my patient Leslie Withers and demand new nurses to take care of him." Dr Jimenez spoke calmly, raising his eyes to the scowling woman standing in his office, her right arm around said patient's shoulders. "Is that correct, Dr Prieto?"

"Yes, Dr Jimenez." Sofia answered in a soft voice, as to not startle the boy close to her, who was already trembling and murmuring in anxiousness at having his routine interrupted, by a stranger nonetheless. "Here, look at him-" With that, she softly raised the boy's head. "-see how thin and bony his face is? I don't think he is being these petechia beneath his eyes; clear sign that he may be throwing up regularly and no one is oding anything about it. His teeth- I'm sorry, Leslie, but could you please open your mouth for me?"

The boy didn't comply with the request, but his body started to shake harder. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…"

"Well, you may not see it now, but believe me when I say his dentition is in very poor condition. His teeth are actually rotting due to the lack of hygiene. And look at his feet: bare and dirty. How easy would it be for him to injury his feet and allow the bacteria inhabitation the grime on it to enter his body?" Then, Sofia took one of his Leslie's hand in hers and raised it, making the boy let out a whimper. "I'm sorry, Leslie, but we're almost done here, I promise. Look at his nails: long and full of dirt. He could hurt hims-"

"I understand your point, doctor." Dr Jimenez interrupted in a calm voice. "The boy's care has indeed been unsatisfactory."

"Unsatisfactory? Dr Jimenez, the boy's care has practically been inexistent. I'm actually surprised you haven't taken action yet. You do meet with this boy once a week, after all, so I'm sure you've noticed all the signs of neglect I'm talking about."

"I have, but they are not signs of neglect." The man spoke, removing his glasses from his face and massaging his eyes in a tired manner. "As you know, we're short on staff and Leslie is a very difficult patient. He doesn't trust most of the nurses and doctors to touch him and help him with his daily routine. I'm actually surprised at how subdued Leslie is behaving right now with you. Believe me when I say: he is not nearly as quiet and compliant with my staff; but they do their best."

"Their best is not good enough." Sofia stated firmly. "I'm sorry, Doctor, but, difficult or not, we have to find a way to ensure this boy's health. What will his family think when they come to visit him?"

Sofia regretted her words almost as soon as they left her mouth, for the boy close to her started to rock his body frantically as he pulled his hair harshly and repeated again and again: "Family, family, family, family. Family! Family, family…"

Sofia's eyes widened and she turned her body so she could hold the boy's arms softly. "Leslie? What's wrong?"

"Family, family, family…"

Dr Jimenez was on his feet by her side; his right hand on Leslie's shoulder.

"Calm down, Leslie." He spoke firmly.

Leslie's words changed. "Calm down, Leslie. Calm down, Leslie…" But despite them, the boy's movements grew in intensity until he was practically battling both doctors' hands on him. "Calm down, Leslie!"

"See what I mean, Dr Prieto?" Jimenez demanded. "Leslie is a difficult patient and we're understaffed. I can't have my nurses ignoring their duties towards my other patients to deal with this. Now, go get a sedative for Leslie."

Sofia frowned at hearing that. If she applied the sedative, she would be admitting that there was no dealing with Leslie; that instead of finding a way to deal with the boy's problems and helping grow beyond them, they should just accept it and drug him into submission. And she did not become a psychiatrist to do that.

"I can manage, Dr Jimenez." Sofia affirmed with her eyes fixed on Leslie's downward face. "Leslie. Look at me."

What am I doing? It was supposed to be about research, not patients.

"Leslie. Leslie. Leslie Withers!"

When did I become a… a…

The boy suddenly halted his trembling and whispering and slowly, raised his hands to Sofia's neck, ghosting his fingers over the bruises Charles had left earlier that day.

"Hurt…"

Sofia smiled and softly involved the boy's hands with hers. "It's alright. It's alright now, Leslie. There's nothing to worry about."

A doctor?

"Now, look at me. Good boy. See? No reason to fret, Leslie. We're okay here, aren't we?"

"Okay. Okay. We're okay."

When did patients become such an important part of my life? When did listening to them become so… fulfilling?

Dr Jimenez took a step back and watched the exchange with curious eyes. The wheels in his head were turning and turning and, in a matter of seconds, his decision was made.

"Dr Sofia Prieto, I want you to become Leslie Wither's caretaker for the next month. You'll help the nurses in his routine and have daily sessions with the boy as his psychiatrist. On the rest of the day, you'll continue to assist Dr Márquez. I know it'll take a toll on you, but after the month is passed, we'll figure out a more adequate arrangement."

Sofia's head shot up, her wide eyes gazing into Jimenez's decided ones. "But… what about my research?"

"You'll continue to work on it at night, as you've been doing so far."

"But, taking care of Leslie is going to consume some hours of my night-time. I'm already short on time as it is, Dr Jimenez."

"You rather leave Leslie's situation as it is, then?"

Sofia frowned once again as she felt the boy flinch in her arms. One look at the boy's hollowly face had her making up her mind.

"Alright… I'll accept this month-long trial." Dr Prieto spoke before turning her eyes back to smile encouragingly to the boy. "Come on, Leslie. It's almost 6pm already. Why don't we go get cleaned up for dinner?"


Half an hour later found Sofia inside a small bathroom, soaked from head to toes and close to a rage fit as she struggled to convince a twitching and half-naked Leslie to get in the tub filled with warm water.

From aspiring writer to surgeon apprentice to researcher to psychiatrist to nurse/psychiatrist/researcher.

How the hell had she come to this?


And this is it for the prologue. I hope you enjoyed it. :)

As you can see, I intend to follow the pattern of latin-origin names for the people related to the Medical area in the game (Marcelo and his brother, Tatiana and Ruben).

Also, since Ruvik accused Jimenez of publishing his work, I'm assuming that the later had bioethical experiments going on besides the human ones. After all, I doubt any current and official scientific media would publish a research based on the sort of human-trials those two did.

That aside, I hope Sofia's background an settlement in Beacon weren't confusing or boring. XP

Kisses,

RedVoid