A.N.: I have some serious headcanons about the save station and Sebastian's connection to it burning in the back of my skull and had a mighty need to write them down. Slow build at first but will pick up as the story progresses. Enjoy!
"How are you feeling today, detective? You were out for so long that I was worried you were never going to wake up.
"I'm sorry, what?"
Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Sebastian flashed a bewildered glance at the nurse outside his cell. Seeing as how the question, and the person asking it, came out of literal nowhere, it took the detective a moment to gather his thoughts before focusing his attention on the individual in question. Her calm demeanor and neutral posture made her seem like she wasn't a threat, but with all the insane shit he went through up to this point, Sebastian was in no hurry to waltz right into another death-trap. Despite his suspicions, the blink he received didn't give him any clues as to her intentions and it only served to worsen his already searing migraine. Seconds of unpleasant silence stretched into agonizing minutes until the futility of the action led Sebastian to give up on playing the waiting game. Any protest or arguments he might have had against the lady staring back at him died as pure exhaustion took control, causing his arms go slack against his sides and making him stretch his neck back to observe the limits of his prison.
"Well, could you at least let me out of this cell?"
A disinterested shrug later and the door was open. Taking a glance outside, Sebastian scanned the area around him inspecting every nook and cranny the room had to offer. He noted every crack, every speck of dust that floated across his haze of vision refusing to leave anything to chance in the Little Hell House of Horrors. The building itself was already unsettling as it was and he didn't need to be dealing with literal skeletons in the closet jumping out at him at any given notice. When he was satisfied with the search, he left the room, legs carrying him to the reception desk where the expressionless nurse was waiting for him.
"Not exactly the welcome party I was expecting, but eh it will have to do."
Ignoring him, the nurse continued to shuffle the papers in front of her until she produced a bleached manila file folder with a bold, red CLASSIFIED title on it and a worn-out pen, holding the latter out in front of Sebastian as if he already knew what to do with it.
"What is this for?"
"Documentation, detective. If you don't sign in, we have no way of ensuring your future memories. Now, if you please," she ended, waving the pen in front of his chest as if holding it was too much of an effort to bear. Taking it, he rolled it around in his hand, idly glancing over the paper and at the indifferent expression of the person in front of him as if doing so a second time would help him understand the prospect a bit better.
"Not even just a little hint?"
"I can't. That is classified."
She tapped on the cover of the folder to further cement her vague point much to Sebastian's continued irritation. The detective silently wondered if she had turned the act of obfuscation into an art form, she certainly seemed experienced enough in doing it. Knowing that standing there wouldn't solve anything, he threw up his hands in defeat and put the pen to the parchment. It's not as if being stubborn was going to change anything anyway.