SCP-1428 – "Cortexichildren"

Chapter 8: Pieces

Disclaimers: During the writing process, all of the SCP number selections I have used were / are vacant. I don't intend to publish this on the wiki, so if the series number is now taken… bleep bloop. This is mainly a crossover fic, not a SCP event log that will go on the site.

Forever reminder that I do not own anything. Fringe belongs to J.J. & co. Each SCP belongs to their respective individual author. The SCP universe belongs to that collective on that site. I do not own anything. I am a fan.

Forever reminder of how I handle alt!characters: Over There: Bob. Over Somewhere Else: Bob.

Author's Notes: A lot of this was originally going to be a part of the last chapter, but I decided to move it. The chapter would've been WAAAAY too big. TW for suicidal language. TW for gore.

I've also found that "Asleep" by States is a Cortexibond song. Like Nick telling Olivia how much she means to him in the first verse, & then after that it's Olivia responding to him. I might have to make a mixtape or playlist. Or a songfic collection. One project at a time, Mica.

Oh, upon further review, referring to Nick & Olivia as "the SCP/s" is totes incorrect. My bad.

I've been posting these chapters & they haven't been loading the room parameters. Like you've all been reading & you have no idea how large / small the containment cells are. I have no idea why it doesn't work, but I'll try to fix that. Sorry for the inconvenience. A03 shows them just fine so I have no idea why it isn't working. But most of the rooms have been five-by-five, if Nick or Liv have been alone, or seven-by-seven, if they're together. That's all you're missing, but at the same time that's a big detail.

Cortexichildren

Item #: SCP-1428

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-1428-1 is to be contained in a 5-by-5 meter room and must be sedated at all times. Security guards must administer Class A sedatives every twenty-five minutes. Failure to apply these procedures will leave those in direct contact with SCP-1428-1 vulnerable to its empathic manipulation. Food and water must be provided three times a day. Direct and sustained contact with SCP-1428-1 is prohibited and violators will be subject to termination. Separation of the two humanoid hosts has been authorized indefinitely.

Log 1428-2-09:

Dr. J. Kwon:

I am beginning to lose patience and interest. SCP-1428-2 is completely unresponsive. It downright refuses to disclose any information. No matter how much [DATA EXPUNGED] we use, it's fruitless.

Perhaps the separation of the two subjects is working against us? Perhaps the bond dynamics between the two are more delicate than we realize? I can't determine anything at this point.

But what is absolutely certain is the fact that I have not seen any of SCP-1428-2's supposed abilities. Not even a glimpse. SCP-1428-1 has shown us exactly what it is capable of. We know what it is. But SCP-1428-2… I can't determine anything.

Is reclassification of SCP-1428-2 necessary? Hostility for the Foundation aside, it hasn't really DONE anything. So is it safe? – Dr. ███████

Personal Log of Dr. Jung Kwan:

And this all seemed so promising. To think how excited I used to be over the hosts… but no more. Unless there is a dramatic discovery… but I doubt it at this stage.

I think Dr. Warren and I are going to move elsewhere – tackle the Cortexiphan itself as opposed to the hosts. It'll be fun to crack this puzzle because it seems solvable. SCP-1428-2 is just a mess. But it's perfect for Hendricks. Messes are his specialty. It can be his losing battle.

Oh and Dr. Montgomery, too. SCP-1428-2 seems pretty harmless now. Maybe she'll finally get the experience she needs.

It stopped. The questioning had finally stopped.

Olivia was relieved, and yet she couldn't believe it. After hours – days – at a time of questioning, what made them stop? What made their blistering pace come skidding to a halt? The pace had been relentless and the methods had been… extreme. This Foundation's "forceful measures" were labeled "cruel and unusual punishment" back where she was from. Nothing short of torture. Poking and prodding her with various substances, some of them even labeled SCP and a series of numbers. And always the funny orange liquid. That was always kept close at hand. Was it more of a catalyst, working with other substances, as opposed to actually being a truth serum? Olivia didn't know.

But now even the unwelcome visitors had stopped. No one came into her cell… ever. No sedations, no check-ups, just food slipped to her through a slot in the door. And even when she tried to peer through that slim rectangle, nothing. Whoever delivered the food was long gone.

It was suspicious. The daily torture had stopped, and she was thankful for that, but… her mind was free to race. And her mind raced to fearful possibilities, dreaded outcomes, no-win scenarios.

This SCP organization HAD to be planning something. Why would they just let her sit? A facility priding itself on total security just leaving an unknown variable awake and coherent? It didn't add up. What were they planning? The build-up was killing Olivia.

'If they want to kill us they should just get it over with.' Olivia rolled her eyes at the establishment. 'Why in the HELL are you leaving me here alone? Are you making a mistake, or is this all designed to lull me into a false sense of security? And as soon as I get comfortable, you shoot me up with something else and use me as a weapon for world domination?' Olivia shuddered at the thought. 'Everyone tells me that I'm the strongest, but I still don't even know what that means. It could mean anything. I could be a ticking bomb, for all I know. And if they're able to tap into that… so many innocent people will die.'

But Olivia still had one trump card, although she was hesitant to call it such; it was more like a razor thin edge of advantage against her opponents. 'They still don't know my true potential and they still don't know about the different universes. They haven't been able to probe my subconscious still and I'll make sure they never will. But why the hell am I still here? Have they given up? They can't give up now; it's too early. If they're as scientific as they say, they'll have to keep testing until they get a definitive answer. If they're so big on solving scientific anomalies, why has everything stopped?'

Unless… 'Unless they're going to move on with just Nick.' And with that possibility in mind, Olivia's heart skipped a beat. No. Nick falling into the wrong hands would be catastrophic. Olivia had seen firsthand what kind of destruction Nick was capable of. They didn't even need a cooperative Nick. 'All they need are his abilities. And the more helpless he is, the better; it'll escalate the death toll. All they need to do is keep him scared, keep prodding and pushing him to the edge. And Nick…'

Olivia was in the dark when it came to Nick. Her connection to him wavered between none at all, to the faintest whispers and wafts; it just wasn't enough. And it surely wasn't enough to determine whether he was still alive or not.

But something inside Olivia knew that Nick was still alive. He had to be. She needed him to be. Nick may be bleeding, battered, and bruised, but he was still alive. He may be completely and dangerously miserable, but he was still alive.

And maybe Nick's fragile mental state could work to their advantage. Because this Foundation was way over their heads. Olivia couldn't help but laugh at their decision to separate the two of them. Hadn't they realized how dangerous Nick was? When he wasn't in her care? When he wasn't with her? Surely there was blood on their hands at this point. She would bet her life on it.

And yet they thought the best course of action was to further separate the two of them? Where was the thought process in that? Did the Foundation truly not care about the lives of its workers? Could it truly brush it all aside and just move on? With no remorse? With not even a hint of hesitation? What kind of place WAS this?

Olivia smirked, folding her arms behind her as she fell back onto her bed, "Maybe this place just has a death wish."

He was miserable. He could barely talk. He could barely breathe. The closest he could get to breathing was a few shallow wheezes. Nick was subjected to so much artificial light that it started to burn against him. It felt like his skin was bubbling, boiling underneath it. It felt like ants crawling through his body. Nick tasted acid and he tasted metal. His body shuddered in random, violent spurts, and they hadn't even shocked him.

He was still alive, but barely. He was still conscious, but barely. Sometimes he didn't even know his own name. Sometimes he couldn't even remember Olivia's.

And today it seemed endless. He had been spared this madness for what felt like a while. They had kept him to his cell – heavily medicated, but he was alone. He had mourned the absence of Olivia, but they weren't hurting him there in those white walls. That was a small victory he had been eager to accept. But now he was out of the cell – and the cell had been a sanctuary compared to everything else. Being in the demoned abyss, in the darkest recesses of his mind, seemed heavenly compared to everything else.

And for the longest time the doctors in front of him hadn't spoken at all. All they did was turn the knobs. All they did was inject the vials. They only stared and watched. There was an aide that could barely speak. Sometimes she would pip and whimper a fearful "Dr. Hendricks, you aren't acting like yourself" or a meek "Dr. Winters, are you sure we should continue?" but nothing else. She was weak, so weak that the aide reminded him of himself. He would've felt disgusted, but he was too tired for that. He was too tired for most emotions.

Five hours ago, all he wanted to do was kill them. Kill them for being mere humans, not doctors. Kill them because they were mortal, because they could bleed. Five hours ago, when he was still coherent, he caught a few glimpses. And five hours ago, the aide had been much more open to talk. Supposedly this all wasn't "authorized." Supposedly Dr. Hendricks was being "brash" and "irrational." And Dr. Winters should be "ashamed for enabling Dr. Hendricks' madness." Also there was the bit of Hendricks' "motives already under review – why risk your job over something like this? Why rack up more questionable methods for the panel to consider?"

But it seemed this Dr. Hendricks just didn't care. The man was a deranged shadow of himself. At any moment, Nick swore the guy would start frothing at the mouth.

Five hours ago, Nick swore he would kill them all – kill all the doctors in this disgusting little room. And especially kill that cockroach of a man Hendricks. Five hours ago, he still had the mental and physical strength to demand to be freed. To demand Olivia to be freed. Five hours ago, he could have ended things. But that was all five hours ago.

Now he was exhausted. Now he was spent. Now he was running on the merest hints of fumes. 50% of Nick's energy went to keeping his eyes open; the other 50% went to keeping himself awake. And he was running on energy reserves. The last of his strength dried up over an hour ago. Nick had nothing. He tried to scrape a measly 1% of his energy to keep the demons at bay… but the energy wouldn't come.

He was alone and Nick was CERTAIN he was going to die. He was so utterly afraid, under the white lights. And that man with the glasses seemed to be bringing in operating instruments. For him.

Oh god, he was going to die and he couldn't even move.

And worse still was this sensation of familiarity – like Nick knew this Dr. Winters. Maybe it was the funny orange liquid, maybe it was Nick being plain delusional, but this man… he knew this man. He had seen this man before. And Nick couldn't help but feel that this man was important. Like this man had done something for him [or to him] before. But he just couldn't remember.

But it didn't matter. It would all be ending soon enough. But he was much too young to die, wasn't he?

Then it hit her. After what felt like a week in the dark, she caught a glimpse of the light. It was a snapshot – maybe only a three second flash – but she saw everything through Nick's eyes. She felt… unfathomably worn out and… petrified. She hoped to both universes – all the universes – that Nick was alright.

Olivia was surprised to see that the shocks had stopped. And even the serum injections had stopped. She was thankful for that, because all that voltage running through Nick in a continuous current was sure to cause damage, right? Or was the Cortexiphan protecting him? That substance continued to amaze and disturb her.

But then she saw a man. A glimpse of a man in the room besides Dr. Hendricks. And Olivia didn't even recognize Hendricks, the man was so unlike himself. Right now Hendricks looked like the type of man Olivia tracked down for Fringe cases. He looked like the type of man to do something foolish, something brash without considering the consequences. He seemed like the type of man who didn't even consider the lives of others in his path to glory. Or in his case, redemption.

But who was this other man? With glasses and white hair? With a sinister smile working silently in the shadows? When he finally stepped out of those shadows, he looked familiar. This was the same sensation she had experienced when she first saw Dr. Warren.

"Who are you?" Olivia asked herself. "Who are you and what are you doing with the SCP Foundation?"

Nick had to speak. Nick had to plead. "If you want – answers – I've given them to you. There isn't much – to talk about – anymore." He grunted, rolling his eyes and whimpering through the gnawing pain in his head, the pulsing ache in his chest, the piercing fire in his legs. The taste of metal flooded his mouth again.

The timid little aide squeaked again. "Dr. Hendricks, might I remind you last time-"

"I need my answers. This specimen will talk. He WILL talk. He'll give me answers. He'll give me answers." Dr. Hendricks kept repeating, slurring, how Nick would give him the answers. And Dr. Hendricks kept ranting and staggering about in a drunken frenzy.

Nick wasn't safe. They should kill him now to get it over with. Just existing was exhausting enough. If he died, he would be freed of the nightmare before him. If he died, he would no longer be the SCP Foundation's captive. If he died, he would no longer be the captive to Cortexiphan – to Walter Bishop's burning legacy for him. If he died, there would be no voices echoing in the dark, urging him to kill others or to kill himself. If he died, all the pain would be over.

"Kill me," he rasped out to the aide. "Kill me, I'm begging you. I don't want to live like this anymore."

That face. The face was familiar now. Dr. Winters was a man from a case, one of the earlier cases of her Fringe career. He had been involved in… activating Cortexiphan subjects.

Olivia's eyes widened. Nick had to get out of there. Olivia needed to get him out of there, but she couldn't even reach him. There were too many barriers – physical and mental – between them.

'No, this is bad. This is bad. Who knows what Winters will do to him. Who knows what Hendricks is up to.' Olivia looked up – there was only one camera on her. She decided to take a shot.

"Hey! Hey you! I know you're watching this feed, you Foundation fucks." She stood up on her bed and waved her hands. "Pay attention: if you want to save a few of your sorry excuses for doctors, I advise you get in to SCP-1428-1's testing room. If you don't get there soon, there will be more blood on your hands; I guarantee it."

"This is the highest setting, Dr. Winters, Dr. Hendricks. Really, I believe we should stop. The specimen is expressing sui-"

"Dr. Lee, that will be all," Dr. Winters dismissed the aide curtly. "I shall take over from here."

"But you don't understa-"

"I am your senior, Dr. Lee; you will do as I say."

She scampered out of there. Nick didn't blame her. Nick wanted to do the same thing.

"If the rest of you," Dr. Winters' stare narrowed at the remaining four doctor-type figures in the room, "Wish to challenge my authority, I'm in the terminating mood today."

A uniform hush fell over them.

Nick was mortified – a man treating his own doctors, his own soldiers, like that? What about him, the enemy? Termination sounded like a luxury Nick would not be afforded.

But he'd try anyway.

"Just kill me." Nick was choking on his words. It was too much for him to speak. "I… can't… Please kill me." Inside Nick was crying. Inside Nick was desperate to break free of this hell and this was the only way he knew how at this point. Inside he was a sobbing, broken thing. A tiny, helpless thing with nowhere to turn. The pain was endless, drowning him, encasing him. 'Put me out of my misery. End it all. Let me die. Please. Please just let me die.' Nick would've cried if he had the energy; Nick would've cried if he had the tears.

But Nick's emotions still carried energy. Even in his decrepit state, Nick had the influence – the power of persuasion.

They should have listened to the aide. Because when the guards came in, it was already too late for those four doctors. When the guards barged in with their guns and their helmets, all they could do was listen to their screams and strangled cries.

The guards also listened to the horrid cracking and breaking of bones. And the violent ripping of arms out of their sockets. It was a scene real horrorshow that could only be paired with the squishing, slicing action of lobotomies. But it was a less delicate process than a real medical procedure; the man really just wanted to slice his head open. He achieved that. Then it was just half-hazard sawing through the organ until he expired. It's a wonder how long he was able to function.

Nick didn't even know intestinal messes could be used to strangle people. Humans were certainly inventive.

Personal Log of Dr. Wallace Hendricks:

I was lucky to escape there with my life.

I'm done for. I was blinded. And Dr. Winters… I don't know what his angle was… but…

SCP-1428-1 is too dangerous. If it can't be destroyed, it needs to be moved. To a more armed facility. We can't control it here.

Log 1428-1-04:

Dr. Winters:

After 5 hours of [DATA EXPUNGED], Hendricks and I had nothing. The subject was unresponsive. I didn't think that… the event would happen. But then it happened.

If I wasn't in the room, it would have been a site to behold. But everyone around me was dying. In hideously gruesome ways. And I barely escaped with my life. And I watched from behind a one-way panel as the subject... had her slit open her own abdomen, claw out her intestines, and… then she choked herself… with… I vomited when I saw it. I'm about to vomit now.

SCP-1428-1 was exhausted – mentally and physically – and yet it was able to bring about such slaughter. It's contained now. We didn't even need tranquilizers. After the event, the subject fell into unconsciousness. But it won't stay like that for long.

O5-6 : The actions of Dr. Winters and Dr. Hendricks will be brought into question AFTER we deal with the matters at hand. The priority is the fate of SCP-1428-1.

Why was he still alive? He thought he had died back there. Why was he still alive? Why was life still torturing him? Why couldn't he leave in peace?

"Kill me, please," he pleaded to the orange-suited man. "Kill me."

But the man only killed himself.

The man closed the door, crashed the cup against the wall, and slit his throat with the shards.

The clean-up crew didn't fare much better.

Smash, smash, smash. Trying to split their heads open like an egg. Right up on the floor. Smash, smash, smash. Until they couldn't take it anymore.

There was also the head-butting approach against a wall. Thud, thud, thud. Each thud leaving behind a bigger red splotch than before. And when the man skidded down the floor, the red trail skidded along with him.

And Nick could only watch as they were given such beautiful release from the prison of life. How ironic it was – Nick could never kill himself when he wanted to; he could only kill others. He could give others the gift of death, but never himself. What a wonderful gift from Dr. Walter Bishop. What a fucking lovely gift indeed. How Nick wished those average fucks dying left and right were Dr. Bishop and his underlings instead.

Cortexichildren

Item #: SCP-1428

…

Addendum-04: Multiple empathic events have transpired. Arrangements have been made.

O5-2 : SCP-1428-1 will be moved from Site 19 to Armed Bio-Containment Area-14. SCP-1428-1 will be kept in a state of suspended animation using [DATA EXPUNGED].

But the status of SCP-1428-2 remains unknown. The decision to keep it at Site 19 or the decision to move it with SCP-1428-1 divides the O5 Command.

O5-7 : Because of Armed Bio-Containment Area-14, and because of the proposed suspended animation procedures, SCP-1428-2's effects on SCP-1428-1 would no longer be needed. The specifics of the bond are still unknown and data collection of this bond is vital, but is it worth moving SCP-1428-2, as well? Is SCP-1428-2 even dangerous enough to warrant the proposed transportation?

"Olivia?"

Olivia jolted awake. Her pulse quickened and her jaw tensed – there was someone in the room with her. For the first time in days, there was someone in the room with her.

"What-what do you want with me?" Olivia was ashamed; her voice was shaking in fear and from the adrenaline rush the fear brought on. "Where's Nick? Why am I still here? What do you want?"

Her lips were red today, instead of purple. A deep red. "Hello, Olivia."

"You're the doctor from before." Olivia's eyes widened. "But what are you doing here?"

"I'm technically not supposed to be here." Dr. Montgomery pulled out a grey rectangle – it looked like a remote. She clicked it, "This'll turn the cameras off. I have two minutes before they suspect anything."

"Are you going to help me?" Olivia's pulse had sky-rocketed. She had hope; she had energy; she was alive again. 'Or is she here to finally kill me?'

"No. You are going to help me, Olivia." From her lab coat, she pulled out a tablet-like device. "This is the S-Nav Ultimate. All containment locations are programmed into this device. SCP-1428-1's name will appear in the top left hand corner. When you're within range, a red circle will surround where you are on the map. The closer you get to him, the smaller the circle will become. I've also programmed the fastest route to get to SCP-1428-1. Don't deviate from it, or you'll be lost for sure."

Olivia absorbed every word this woman had for her. But the question still remained. "Why are you helping me?"

Dr. Montgomery pushed a strand of her coiled short hair behind her ear, "I believe the Foundation is making a mistake. And I don't want the lives of innocent people on the line." She clenched her free brown fist, "If I'm violating protocol and am subject to termination, so be it. But I don't believe that separating you two is the best course of action."

"Separating?" Dr. Montgomery hadn't mentioned this before. Olivia's eyes narrowed – what else was this woman hiding? "Why?"

"If you succeed in reuniting with Nick and the two of you are able to escape, you won't have to worry." Dr. Montgomery looked hesitantly up at the cameras. "We've gone over two minutes. I'll have to hurry." She took a hasty breath and rushed, "Your Nick has been responsible for many Foundation deaths. They believe he's dangerous – and he is – because he isn't with you. They're taking him to an armed facility. And they're going to keep him in suspended animation, in an effort to neutralize him."

Olivia didn't like the term neutralize. And even worse she didn't like where that left her. "While keeping me behind, hoping to study me?" she deduced.

"Yes."

Olivia took the S-Nav from Dr. Montgomery.

"Olivia?"

There was definitely something swelling inside her. Rage. Now that she was free… she could finally exact her revenge on this fucking Foundation. And Olivia felt something bubble to the surface – something she hadn't felt in a long time. It was what she felt when she was guiding Nancy Lewis all those years ago. Olivia felt her body overflowing with warmth, warmth that had to be expelled – and fast.

Then the wall in front of her exploded into flame. She had narrowly missed Dr. Montgomery, who was now cowering on the ground in pain and in fear; hopefully she wouldn't regret her decision.

Olivia stepped out of the flaming wall, jaw stern and forehead furrowed. 'Over my DEAD BODY will you continue to exploit me and imprison Nick.' She looked down at the S-Nav and turned right. 'Over – my – dead - body.'