AN: Yeah so, this is me attempting to make a TNO: Last Days of Europe crossover with the SCP Mythos, featuring the best girl SCP-105. She deserves so much better, and I plan on giving her that, but not without a struggle.
Also I'm using a mix of older TNO lore, the Land of the Free rework posts on Reddit, and some current lore, so sorry if it's a bit weird.
Darkness.
As far as her eyes could see was simply darkness. That, and her own thoughts as she drifted endlessly.
She knew she was dead, and yet she still felt her thoughts move through her head. Moving, zipping through her mind like cars passing through an intersection. It didn't hurt or anything, it just felt…empty.
Again, darkness and that was it.
SCP-105. Iris Thompson. At last, her life was over and done with.
She didn't want to go out so soon, but it was bound to occur someday. Either out in the field or from old age in her cell in the Foundation. A part of her was glad that she had died in service with Alpha-9. They were just about the only real family she had left by now.
Family. It had been so long since she had seen her parent's faces. Not that she could ever forget them. Or Tommy's. Or Anthony's. All a part of her, carrying them in the back of her mind. The last traces of her old life.
Before the car hit Tommy.
Before Anthony was dead because of her.
Before everyone at home thought her a murderer.
Before Omega-7.
If Iris could sigh, she'd do so now.
While she thought back on the horrific conditions that had shaped her, a slow, creeping idea crawled into the center of her mind.
If this is the afterlife, it was incredibly bleak. But if this was death, why could she still think? Still feel?
Whatever it was, her time to think was interrupted not even ten seconds later.
A sudden burst of light consumed her vision, what seemed to be daylight. Her eyesight was blurry, as if she had never been outside before in her life. A million thoughts went through Iris' head.
What was happening? What is that light?
…is…is that crying?
…
On May 12th, 1945, Iris Thompson of Los Angeles County, California was born.
…
And so, Iris Thompson found herself reincarnated.
Into herself.
In the 1940s, of all places (times?)
Of all possible afterlives she had wondered about, she was NOT expecting reincarnation into different times to be the one she got. Not at all.
An adult mind in the body of an infant. What a pickle.
From Iris' limited vision and hearing, she could tell she was at home with her parents. Home. A real home, not a cell or lab. Home. And it was her real parents from so long ago. The ones she had lost. They were with her again.
…albeit an '40s version of themselves, but still, she had her family again!
Her tiny baby arms were bundled in a blanket, she was warm and cozy and felt…safe. Safe for the first time in years.
Like whatever God or being or whatever had given her a normal life as a consolation prize.
Days and weeks and even a couple months passed as she tried to get used to being a baby in the '40s. From the newspapers her father read and the daily radio broadcasts she heard while being watched by her mother, she could glean that it was 1945, and that World War 2 was still raging.
Iris was never quite the history expert, but she at least knew the war would be ending soon. The possibilities of growing up in the post-war '50s Boom slowly made its way into her brain. What historical knowledge she knew popped into her head.
Rock'n'Roll would rise. A Red Scare. Tensions with the Russians. Not very appealing, but better than the Foundation. Elvis Presley, Eisenhower. So many things to come and experience. All she had to do was wait and enjoy being a kid again.
Which brought her to her next dilemma. After all she had been through, Pandora's Box, Agent Adams…Able, everything…could she just go back and be normal again?
Iris would never be completely innocent or forget what had happened. She couldn't.
The scars ran too deep.
But maybe…just maybe…she could use this as a second chance. She had her parents, (hopefully) Tommy, and a basic knowledge of what the next years would entail. She could get by with that.
Iris could survive, even thrive happily here. Even with her powers, there was hope. Hope for the life she always longed to return to but never got until now.
A peaceful one.
And within the next few seconds, that was all shattered with the radio's sudden message.
"KRAUT ATOMIC BOMB STRIKES OAHU, PEARL HARBOR DESTROYED"
…
In August of 1945, Harry S. Truman, President of the United States, boarded the IJN Akagi and signed the Akagi Accords, and with this, the Allies had lost World War 2. With a Japanese garrison in the ports of LA and San Francisco, and the swastika flying over London and Moscow, the United States gave up.
And a young Iris Thompson found herself in an alien world.
…
To say that she had her entire worldview destroyed would be an understatement.
She was stuck in the body of her infant self at the time, yes, but the shock and horror remained. She saw the faces of her parents, plastered with their own worry and anger at the surrender. From what she could gather, her dad had worked hard for something related to the war effort, and now that Japanese troops were in the port of Los Angeles…
Her mother was quieter, but still…troubled, to put it lightly. Throughout the time that Iris had grown used to being reborn as a baby (not that it wasn't very weird and uncomfortable at times), she had seen her mom pace the halls of their home, listening to the radio and peering out the window towards the coast. Always watching. Always fearing.
And Iris?
Only one thought was in her mind then.
This wasn't supposed to happen.
The Axis was supposed to lose! They were supposed to collapse and get occupied and…to lose! Japan, Germany, Italy…
Though her current body couldn't express it, her mind (soul?) was exasperated and anxious. How did things end up this way? Was it somehow her fault? Was her being reborn causing this?
Maybe some kind of anomaly, some kind of strange curse? She knew herself, firsthand, that anomalies didn't make sense.
Iris Thompson didn't know the truth. She wasn't sure if she wanted to.
She might not be able to live with herself if she did.
…
The years passed. She slowly managed to relearn how to walk (and that itself was a little frustrating) and to speak. Again.
To be fair, she managed to do it pretty quick. Perks of being reborn, she guessed. It just took a few tries and practice runs, and she was one step closer to her young adult years.
She had also tested it, and lo and behold, she still had her powers. A curse and a blessing. She wasn't sure how to take advantage of them too well here, since her Polaroid was…way beyond her current time. She'd have to settle for these old school cameras.
It was 1953 now. Tommy was born again in 1950. Iris was 8 years old now, attending school, but not really making friends.
It was a little hard when you were technically an adult looking like a kid. Or was she actually a kid with a really advanced mind?
Bleh. It made her head hurt.
Things had changed since '45. Now that she could walk and talk and somewhat rely on herself, she had been doing some research. Asking her parents, reading, anything. Getting information on events she missed as a baby, and even before then.
First off, one of the most important.
Red Week.
WEB Dubois gets shot in Chicago, and America, already plagued by general strikes and rioting, burts into a near revolution with militias opposing the rioters forming across the nation. Mostly throughout the South, but even here in LA.
Which probably explained the gunfire she had been hearing outside her house.
It ended when Eisenhower and the Army crushed the revolts and Truman instituted reforms which calmed the people.
Oh, right, Eisenhower. He was President now. Again. Elected 1952. At least that stayed the same. Even if she wasn't entirely familiar with the man.
But now that she had been blindsided by the end of World War 2, Iris didn't intend to let it happen again.
On a positive note, the German economy collapsed and America has started recovering. Really good news on her part. It was getting noticeable in her neighborhood, with new houses being built and homelessness going down. Small comforts, but comforts nonetheless.
To be honest, Iris was feeling slightly optimistic. Even with the…horrible implications of the Axis winning the war, it seemed like her home nation was returning to its feet and preparing to take a stand.
Her new life here. A second chance. With no Foundation (at least she sort of hoped), no Omega-7, and no…Able, she felt like it was possible for a normal life.
Her mood slightly dipped.
All she had was her family. That was it. Not really any friends, nor anything else. Just them.
And while it was sad, maybe it was for the best. Iris didn't want to endanger anyone else.
…
But fate never respects your wishes, for better or worse.
Sometimes it's just better that way.
…
January, 1955. Los Angeles, California.
Iris was originally from Arizona. All the way to the east from LA. Hot, yes, but it was a pretty place to live. She remembered joking so many times with Anthony about California being, well…not a nice place, and not as good as Arizona.
And yet, growing up in the atmosphere of a Los Angeles starting to recover was humbling, to say the least.
She was eleven years old then. Tommy was six. The two siblings walked through a park in the city, her eternally watching.
She always found it strange how older parents just let their children explore and walk around with no supervision, but maybe that was just how it was.
But that wasn't the main thing occupying her mind.
The main thing was the deja vu she was feeling.
It was just like that day. The day he died.
Tommy was always a bit of an excited adventurer, still dragging her around on little adventures and such. It was fun. But Iris was always watching for danger, keeping a keen eye out for her younger brother.
But now, things felt too familiar. Way too similar to her liking. The cars, the weather, Tommy excitedly running around the park. It was almost too much.
She wanted to go.
"Iris?", Tommy poked her in the side of her arm, dragging her out of her anxious thoughts.
"What is it, Tommy?", she responded, looking down on him from her taller stance, her face in a small frown.
"I'm getting a little hungry. Could we go home?", he asked, his stomach rumbling a bit.
She sighed in relief. Finally, she could go home and forget this. Eat dinner and maybe read a book or two.
"Of course! I've been waiting to go this whole time! Let's hurry!", Iris nodded, smiling just a bit, with some pressure taken off.
And then Tommy darted off towards the intersection.
No. No.
Not again. Please.
Please.
Tommy was running, his small legs moving him closer and closer to the street. The light was red, but it wouldn't stay that way for long.
She didn't even get distracted talking to…Anthony this time, Anthony didn't even exist here! She was watching! Why was it happening again?!
Tommy, looking at the red light, began stepping into the crosswalk as he quickly looked both ways, not noticing that a single blue Ford had accidentally run the light, it's tires skidding against the pavement.
NO!
Iris reached out in vain, seeing that once again, she would lose Tommy. All over again.
And then it happened.
A figure, slightly taller than herself, grabbed Tommy by the back of his shirt and pulled him away, throwing him into the grass, shouting, "You dummy, move out the way!"
The Ford raced past them.
Tommy looked up at his savior, a little shook by his near death experience.
He was another kid around their age, dressed in blue jeans, small boots, and a green Army coat, a little too big for him. But his most outstanding feature was the faded M1 helmet, too big for his small head, rolling around on top of him.
He had black hair and blue eyes, and was a couple inches taller than Iris and towered over Tommy.
But he didn't take notice of Iris at first, simply berating Tommy lightly with his young yet bombastic voice.
"Watch it, blondie! You nearly got turned into a splat on the road! You need to be more careful!", he lambasted Tommy, shaking his small index finger at him.
All Tommy could do in response was nod his head vigorously as he looked the boy in the eye.
And then another voice joined the fray.
"Jo-I mean, General Big Mac!", a small yet loud voice spoke up, belonging to a short Asian looking girl with small glasses, barely the size of Iris, ran up to the three of them, she was wearing normal clothes for a girl her age. She saluted the boy crookedly.
Big Mac?
"At ease, Lee.", the boy said to his female companion in a faux military fashion.
"Joh-I mean, sir, who're these people? You just sorta sprinted away from our base suddenly!", the other girl asked with confusion.
"I don't know, some civilian with a death wish. Come on, we gotta get back home! My mom is making roast beef!", the boy in the helmet proclaimed, running off into the distance towards wherever their homes were.
"Wait for me!", the girl shouted, giggling slightly as she stumbled.
And that just left Iris and Tommy Thompson, staring at the two running away. Silence descended over them as only the sounds of traffic and other pedestrians were heard.
And Tommy was the one to break the silence.
"...I almost died, holy s-"
…
That may have been the first time Iris had any sort of interaction with those two, but it wasn't the last, and nor was it their proper introductions.
That came later in the week, on a Saturday afternoon.
Iris had still been paranoid of another accident with Tommy or anyone else, and had been pacing around the Thompson home, only eleven years old and worrying like she was an adult.
It was her saving grace that the strange boy with the Army helmet had been there to pull him out of the metaphorical fire. If he hadn't…
She didn't want to think about it. But it ate away at her mind. How everything nearly repeated. All over again.
…Anthony wasn't even there to talk with her. If Tommy had…died again, there was no Anthony there for her after. Nothing. It would just be her and her parents.
And she didn't know if she could take that again.
…maybe she needed a breather.
Stepping out onto the porch and onto the lawn and sidewalk, she closed the door behind her and looked out at the neighborhood.
Mostly quiet, it was a nice looking day. The air was cool, and there was a nice breeze flowing through. Overall, it would be a nice day for a walk with some friends.
Friends.
Iris didn't have any of that. She didn't think she could keep any, at this point. At least Anthony had stuck beside her. At least he-
And that's when she saw the familiar faded helmet, slightly glinting under the sun.
The boy was there again. Marching down the sidewalk in a mimic of a military march, the straps of his helmet swaying. He carried a stick that had been cut to around rifle length, and he carried it on his shoulder. His voice was loud and clear, singing a song with his childish voice as he marched.
"This is the Army, Mr. Jones! No private rooms or telephones! You had your breakfast in bed before, but you won't have it there anymore!", the boy sang as he marched past Iris' house.
Iris simply looked at the boy, curiously. He was clearly a bit of a dork, judging by his attire and singing. Not that she minded.
Her lost thoughts were interrupted when the boy sharply stopped and whipped his head toward her standing, staring figure.
"Hey, I know you!", he exclaimed, marching towards her, "You're the girl who was with that dumb kid in the road! The one at the park!"
She found herself slightly taken aback, not expecting him to just march up and speak to her. She nervously responded, "Y-Yes, that was me! That dummy was my little brother."
"Oh. I thought so, you both kinda look the same.", he observed, passing the stick he claimed as a "rifle" between each hand.
"Well, yeah. That's fairly obvious.", she nodded, folding her hands behind her back, shifting on her feet.
"...Yeah. What's your name, anyway? I think I've seen you around the neighborhood before.", the boy politely asked.
He continued playing with his stick. He was easily a head taller than her, so she was directly looking at his chin. Not that any of them were really tall, but in child terms…
"Oh, I'm…I'm Iris Thompson. This is my house.", she introduced herself, summoning a little bit of confidence.
"Well, hi, Iris. I'm John Charlie Tibbets. But you can call me John or Charlie or anything. I don't really care.", John responded, looking her right in the eyes with a big smile.
That's when Iris felt…calm. Like she was speaking to an old friend. It was odd, really. He was just another kid who had happened to be at the same park, and in the same neighborhood. But something…just felt right speaking to him.
"It's nice to meet you, John. Do you live around here?", she smiled back.
"Yeah! My mom and dad and me are up the street! Jaz lives next to me, and we climb our fence to visit each other!", he proudly exclaimed.
"...Jaz? Who's that?", Iris asked him.
"Oh! You saw her at the park! Her real name is Jasmine, Jaz is just her nickname. She was my friend with the glasses. She's like my second in command. She's very smart, like a doctor.", he explained, scratching his nose briefly.
Iris nodded, finally assigning a name to the face of the small girl with the glasses who had run off with John.
"John and Jaz. Funny.", she said to herself.
"Yeah, the name thing is something we noticed. But we don't really care. We've known each other since we were really little, and we always stick together."
"I could tell.", Iris laughed a bit to herself.
John continued spouting off to her with, "Someday, when I go into the Army and burn down Tokyo and Germania, me and Jaz are gonna raise the flag over Hirohito's palace and Hitler's house, and me and her are gonna be heroes!"
Iris was momentarily taken aback by his aggressive rhetoric, before slowly realizing where she's been growing up. The times, the fear, the anger since 1945. It was only natural that the other kids were part of it.
He didn't stop there, though.
"My mom said that she had to leave Austria in the '30s, because they were gonna hurt her, so someday me and the Army and MacArthur are gonna go and destroy the Germans, and Jaz is gonna build guns for me and MacArthur to kill them with!"
…oh.
John was a fan of Douglas MacArthur.
The former general had been advocating for mass rearmament for the Cold War and future conflict, and generally had been a widely known figure across the country. His message didn't exactly resonate with Iris, but she did slightly empathize with the nation and the man's intentions.
Just because she was reborn didn't mean she didn't have attachment to her nation.
But John was her age and seemed committed to fighting.
"...I'm sorry about your mom, John.", she slowly said, still processing everything.
"Oh, it's fine! She and my dad have each other, and they have me and my sister. She's kinda mean, though. My mom's making dinner soon, did ya wanna come and stay over?", John invited, his smile still present even after talking about burning down cities not a minute ago.
Iris considered about it for a second.
Her first thought was to decline, seeing as she really didn't want to hurt a somewhat normal, innocent kid like John. It seemed like she was poison to anyone associated with her. Like she was cursed. Whether it had to do with her photography powers or not, she didn't know. But she was scared.
But then Iris thought of something else. Something she hadn't considered since first being reborn.
A chance for normalcy.
The off chance that she could keep the life she lost originally, so long ago after Anthony's murder. WIth her parents, her brother…and a friend or two.
John was no Anthony, yes. But he did represent the thing she so longed for.
A normal life.
So she spoke and decided.
"...Yes. I'll come and have dinner with you!", she slowly nodded, almost saying it silently.
Not missing a beat, John exclaimed, "Yes! I can show you my room and all my posters and my drawings! I promise, they're really cool!"
He took her hand and pulled her running up the street.
And so began Iris' new life. For real this time.
…
But of course, nothing good lasts forever.
The year 1962 heralds danger for Iris, and the world.
AN: So yeah, I reused Tibbets as a major character. Sorry, sorry, but my friends and I love putting him in random stories and such, and I really wanted to explore his childhood. Yes, I know. But I love using the dude. He's fun to write.
Secondly, welcome to SCP and TNO. Fun idea, right? I can't wait to combine all sorts of TNO lore with the Foundation lore. And to give best girl Iris some happiness.
That's all for now. Expect sporadic updates.