This'll probably be dumb and never finished, but this fucking quarantine is making me crazy.

So, please, enjoy my SCP inspired Game of Thrones Fanfiction. It can't be any worse than what Dan and Dave did to it. Fight. Me.

Thomas strode down Site 63's halls, cradling the 8 quart bowl in his hands like a newborn babe. Several labcoat-clad researchers ran by him, clipboards or PADs in hand. He slid against one wall, desperately trying to avoid touching anyone.

"Researcher… Young… please report to... East Containment Wing." The electronic, monotone voice alerted them. Another researcher walked around a corner and nearly collided with Thomas.

"Hey!" He cried out, jerking back and cradling his cargo. "Careful!" The auburn-haired woman looked at him, angry and confused, but as realisation dawned on her, she swept to the opposite side of the hallway.

Coming to an intersection marked 'Site Personnel', Thomas took a left and padded down the empty stretch of hallway till he saw a laminated sign with the words 'Guest Quarters' printed on it. Taking the first door on the left, he knocked as his hand turned the knob.

"You get the stuff?" A voice called out before he had even opened the door. Thomas opened it into an apartment; a small kitchen, a bed, and an even smaller sitting room greeted him. A blue couch dominated the sitting room, and on it sat a man dressed not unlike the researchers he had passed in the halls outside.

"The mess hall chef looked at me like I had three heads when I said 'nutritional yeast'." Thomas said, as he set the bowl down on the table in front of the TV. The man was older than Thomas' 26 years, 50 if he was a day, but whether he was actually that old was up for debate, his file was redacted by the Foundation, with a capital R. "Thanks for that, Bright. But, thankfully, one of the cooks knew what it was, found it in the fucking back of the spice cabinet."

Dr. Bright greedily dug into the popcorn, shoving a handful into his mouth. "Yaltz, I'll say this, you never cease to amaze." He shoved another handful of the treat in his mouth. "Hey, how was that mess with 5775? Heard you really got into the shit. Proud of you. I was going to keep watching when I heard you got the assignment, but I knew," He tapped his temple. "I knew you'd come out alright."

"You didn't read the after action report?" Thomas waited till Bright had pulled another handful of popcorn out before he dipped in for his own. The nutritional yeast gave it a salty, almost cheesy flavor.

"Nope." Bright said, through a mouthful of popcorn. "We had a containment breach. Doc Teller went into cardiac arrest while working with 447." He was quiet for a moment. "There's a reason you don't let 447 near dead bodies."

Thomas' stomach churned at the thought, and he slyly put the rest of the popcorn back in the bowl, his hunger completely gone. Bright seemed to cheer up immediately, though, and went for another handful just as Thomas was depositing his. He quickly withdrew his hand, causing some of the popcorn to fly out onto the couch.

Bright looked at him reproachfully. "What… oh." The same look the junior researcher in the hall had given him washed over Bright's face.

"Yeah." Thomas said. He stood up and took off his lab coat, revealing a kevlar vest and a belt fitted with several pouches, a pistol holstered at his side.

Dr. Bright appraised him. "When was the last time you shifted?"

Thomas sat back down and sighed. "Two weeks, 2 days, and 15 hours." He looked to the wall clock above the TV. "And 53 minutes."

Bright's face opened in a smile and he took another handful and threw it in the air. "Well then that means we've got plenty of time for another episode." Thomas ignored the display as he sat back down. Grabbing the remote, Bright turned the TV on, navigated the menu and brought up HBO. Thomas, finally looking at the TV, noticed something strange. A small coin was taped to the top of the screen.

"Hey Jack." He said, sitting forward. "What's that?"

Without looking at him, Bright swapped through the shows on the recently watched lists. "Don't worry about it."

Immediately Thomas knew something was wrong. "No, really. What's that thing taped on top of the box?"

The click of the selector stopped as Jack Bright's cursor fell over "Game of Thrones."

"Seriously, don't worry about it." But Thomas slapped the remote out of his friend's hand before he could select the show.

"Is that what I think it is?" Bright's face reddened and he grinned like a kid that had just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"Look, Tommy…"

"Don't call me that."

"507?"

"Stop."

"Yaltzie."

"Nooope."

"Look." Bright said, placatingly. "My buddy at Site 59 …"

Thomas shot him a withering look. "You mean some junior researcher, like me, looking to suck up to you, let you steal it…"

Jack continued, uninterrupted. "...let me borrow it. And! And! I have it on good authority that a friend of mine is going to be making a special guest appearance!" Bright stood next to the TV screen, a small picture of Tyrion Lannister standing in the ruins of King's Landing and the title "The Bells" overlaying the picture.

Thomas was quiet for a while. He looked at the small, coin sized device attached to the flat screen, it's three crescent moons beckoning him to walk what Walt Whitman called "The road not taken".

"You realise we didn't even finish the last episode?" Bright leaned down and picked up the remote.

"Well, we had stopped just before your 5775 mission…" He said, not willing to look Thomas in the face.

He could feel the anger rising in him. "You thought I'd die." He spat.

Bright brought his hands up in protest. "No! No, of course not! But… you know, after Beale came back, and you and Agent Troy had stayed behind, hoping to kill that dreadful thing and leave it floating around Mars for all eternity, I figured it'd be weeks before you shifted back to our reality."

Thomas stood up. "So you did read the after action report!"

"How was Waco, by the way? I would have thought when you shifted back it'd be somewhere around Phobos-"

"Stop stalling."

"Yes!" Bright yelled, "I finished the season without you!" The two stood there for some time, both breathing heavily, waiting for the other to act.

Finally Thomas broke the silence. "So I'm guessing since you've got 3922, the season ending was pretty bad?"

Bright's body relaxed and he breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh Jesus, man. You have no idea. D and D really screwed the pooch." He edged his way closer to the couch, eyeing Thomas, who finally sat down. Bright gingerly sat next to him and offered him some popcorn. "Peace?"

Thomas looked at the man, an immortal some said, and slowly grasped a handful.

"Peace."

Bright's demeanor immediately changed, he took the remote and pointed it at the screen, scrolling down to select the episode.

"So why's she got the shit duty?" Thomas mouthed through his popcorn.

"No clue. But my buddy at Project Galahad says every test they've done on 3922 since February's been coordinated by her." He clicked on the icon of the episode.

"Man." Thomas muttered, leaning back on the couch. "Wonder who she pissed off."

The screen went black, save for the loading icon.