Note ;; I am, personally in my real life, a physically disabled individual. All the struggles the Y/N goes through in this fanfiction is written from personal experience. I would not ever write a disabled character from a perspective I do not understand. The language used, and the way the character is regarded reflects real life experiences I have had with the public and medical professionals. You can, of course, enjoy this Fic even if you are NOT a disabled person . Also, I am aware 049's touch is lethal at all costs, and I am aware that the Foundation I am writing about does not act in the way they are written here. This is an AU-Fanfiction, lets call it the... 'Studied AU'. Thank you for your time, enjoy the Fic - Cosy
Beep. Beep. Beep.
The repeating, irritating sound of a heart rate monitor sounding echoed in the small, white tiled room. With my head back against a rock hard pillow, a thin linen blanket covering my form, I sat in, glancing to the small screen to the left of my bed. My vitals were low today, my eyes squinting in concern as the door opened, a white jacketed nurse entering. Silently they came to my bedside and with a quick glance over, hastily took my arm, removing the cuff that had been secured all night, their free hand unpeeling the sticky tabs from my chest, the heart monitor loudly flatlining. The nurse grimaced behind a paper face mask, their eyes reading frustration and annoyance at the situation, messy notes being taken on a blue clipboard.
It was the same every morning since I had arrived at the SCP Foundation. One year ago now I found it all very frightening and very embarrassing, but with time I learned there was no use trying to complain or attempting to change my circumstances - the Foundation made it very clear that they sometimes wished they would enter in the morning to find me dead, and I did well to remember it. Silence was key, I discovered - and averting my eyes. The nurses were overworked, this I knew to be fact. Day and night they'd come to this side of the facility to do checks they clearly didn't want to be doing, the tired look in their eyes giving way to unbridled rage against their patients. I had only been shouted at once, but it was enough to remind me not to 'step out of line' again.
"Your vitals are fine," They lied, my memory of my blood pressure reading at 60 just moments ago gracing me. "You can go. Sticks behind you." My eyes glanced behind me to my white medical cane that had been returned to me once again, never knowing if it was the same one or new replacements everytime. I had dropped it during my 'test' with 3010, and that experiment had taken me out for weeks - until now. I knew that eventually, the Foundation would tire of my, and other people like me, presence. It must've cost too much, or maybe it was the slowness of it all - but I knew eventually they'd have me removed, as in beaten and likely killed 'removed'. It had started slowly with the other disabled patients who arrived with me. I could only hope my fate wouldn't be like the one who was sacrificed to 106's chamber. I preferred not to think about that.
With the nurse removing herself from my cell, I swung my legs over the side of the bed and felt the familiar pain in my hips as I adjusted my legs for walking as a new paper was slid under my door, detailing what I was to be doing today. Reaching behind me to my medical cane, a shiver running through me as my bare feet touched the cold tile, I approached the paper, shakily leaning over and taking it into my hands. SCP 049, it read. Euclid. Nearly immediately bitter tears began to form in my eyes, the paper crinkling as my fist balled. Today was the day - I knew. Today was the day I was destined to die.
I was never meant to be here in the first place. When the specialised ward shut down and my treatments for my disabilities came to a halt, I thought I would be destined for the streets - but to my and many others who lived there surprise, a mysterious Foundation approached us. Free healthcare, free living - only for the small price that we partook in their experiments from time to time and helped them further the 'protection of humanity'. There were 3 of us left now out of the original 223, soon to be 2. Perhaps today was the day they were taking all of us out - I could only hope their time would be less painful than what I was to expect. 'Touch is invariably lethal to Humans'. There was no room for mistake, no room for a mistype - if this SCP, if this thing touched me, I would die. I wiped the tears from my eyes and reminded myself that Euclid didn't always mean death, and that at least this one looked like something familiar. Images of 966 came to mind, and a shudder overcame me - when it comes to Euclid I could've been dealt a much worse card today. 'Dies within moments', it read. At least I wouldn't suffer, or so I hope.
The doors to my cell opened up, gun toting guards glaring at me up and down as I hastily put my shoes on, nearly tripping over myself to get to them within 30 seconds to avoid upsetting them. My stick made sharp clicking noises against the tile as I feebly walked towards them, greeting them gently as they motioned for me to follow them. We walked for some time side by side, the guards checking up on me every few minutes to make sure I could walk - it was a long path towards this SCP's containment chamber, and it gave me time to reflect. I had nothing apart from the Foundation, nothing to show - I didn't want to die, but if it somehow aided Humanity, which I doubted even so, then I could die feeling less useless. Less like a burden, less– … like a homeless cripple.
Upon reaching the cell, the large yellow Euclid label glaring at me, I glanced beside me to the small glass room of scientists and doctors awaiting my entrance, my morning nurse amongst them. I watched as my notes from this morning were read over quickly before being discarded in a nearby paper basket, my blood running cold at the sight. They were not just prepared for me to die today, they were betting on it, planning on it - my papers, my records being discarded right before me. Vicious shakes nearly immediately gripped my form as I feared what lay behind the large steel doors.
As the double doors to the lab opened, I was hastily thrown inside, my body colliding with the tilted floor harshly, the sound of my knees connecting with the ground below sounding closer to a crack. Cascading black hair covered the floor as I steadied herself with my arms, my frail hands searching frantically for my walking stick, only for my eyes to catch the white colour of it in the hands of a guard who stood outside the door. In the madness of being pushed I hadn't even realised it had been snatched from me. I turned my body towards the entrance, my hands wordlessly reaching out to be helped and to be given my aid back, but to my horror, the doors merely shut, and the sound of the lock mechanism bolting sounded loudly, leaving me on the floor alone.
"I don't know how many times I have to tell them to be more careful with my subjects."
That voice. My eyes raised up in horror as I realised that this SCP, this thing, had spoken - clearly, intelligently. I had not yet turned to face it, the echo of that strange buzzing voice raking its way through my racing mind. I froze in place, the hands that were searching the ground for my aid halting as my eyes grew wide with genuine fear and horror. The room was freezing cold, my body working itself up into a lasting shiver as the sound of heeled footsteps moved my way - with haste.
"Come now, come over here. We should begin if we want to make good time." It spoke, my eyes still fixated on the metal doors. I sat still, unmoving, fear holding my body in place. Many sounds echoed behind me. Glass ware, instruments on metal, hasty pacing and footsteps, and then the ever familiar sound of the intercom.
"C'mon girl, up we get. Don't keep the Doctor waiting."
The order came through my body like an electric shock, bringing me back to this reality as I realised I had to act well if I wished to have any chance of survival. That maybe, if I played nice, I could appeal to this things intelligence and just hope it was, in some way, sympathetic. I finally turned my head and stared upwards at the creature before me, and standing tall it looked exactly how described - plague doctor mask and a large cloak, icy grey eyes staring out at me from the darkness of the mask and hood. It had its arms crossed behind its back as it stared down at me in what I could only describe as frustration, even though I was unsure how a mask could have an expression. It seemed expectant, thus, I began to move - but with the reality check, came the pain. As I moved my legs, I let out a sharp squeak of pain as I attempted to get up, my hands messily fumbling for the many tables inside the chamber for support. The creature, thankfully, did not offer me a hand and stared at me with perhaps curiosity, head beginning to slowly tilt to one side as they watched me. My body heaved and moved messily, my legs shaking with the pressure of standing unaided, and once on my feet, my knees bent inwards, I stared out through messy raven hair to the creature, who continued to stand, unmoving - unblinking.
"That thing the guard held, what was it?" It asked, voice echoing as I caught my breath. I glanced upwards to it, and then to the nearby surveying window, looking for the go ahead to engage, and with the noted nod, I turned back to it. Him?
"I-It's my walking aid, Doctor," I said, noting the title the Scientist behind the glass had given him. "I use it to walk, I am unsure why it was revoked. Forgive me, I cannot stand unaided." I used my best voice, my best diction, my best explanation hoping once more to appeal to this thing which I could only hope was not eyeing up its next experiment.
"Walking aid?" It repeated with a sense of curiosity. "And this 'walking aid', without it, you are… unwell?"
I stared in shock at the question, but continued nonetheless.
"I was already unwell before, Doctor. It merely helps me with everyday life, I am," My voice lingered on the last word, my mouth only moving when I had very carefully chosen my word. "I am physically disabled."
"You do not appear 'physically disabled'," It retorted, taking a large step towards me, head tilting as it began to survey my body curiously with its ever staring eyes. "But I see you now, I sense it. The pain, the torment - all from just trying to stand. What a curious thing you are, even if you do not carry the pestilence."
I could hear the loud shocked talking coming from behind the glass, watching as scientists and doctors alike suddenly began discussing something, some people even running from the room or grasping clip boards. Whatever this thing had just said was clearly new, and I watched as my morning note was fished out of the basket.
"It's… an invisible disability, Doctor," I continued. "Where it comes from or what it really is, is unknown. It's a medical mystery, I'm told."
The mask, although unemoting, lit up - eyes suddenly full of wonder and greed.
"Come then, we must begin a checkup. I want to get a good look at you before I decide how to treat you." It spoke, not as a question but as a fact, its strange tall body leaning out of my space and returning to the side of a medical bay bed, forcefully pulling the reclining head of it up so it resembled more a chair, his expectant eyes falling on me once more. I knew those eyes from the other Doctors of the facility, even though I currently internally hesitated to call this thing a 'Doctor', but the eyes were always the same - 'don't waste my time', they said. I heeded the call knowingly, taking a deep breath as I used the remaining tables and whatever I could to approach him. As I did, he continued to keep a keen eye on me even though he was organising tools on a table at the bedside, his head continuing to tilt curiously like a confused animal.
Once I reached the bed-side, I sat down before him, reaching down for my legs to place them upon the bed. The sound of chairs screeching out from underneath scientists sounded loudly as many pressed up against the glass, fixated on the gloved hands that reached for my legs. Struck in horror, I could do nothing more than stare downwards in what felt like slow motion as he reached for me. 'Invariably lethal', it read. Knowing my final moments were upon me, I whipped my head around to stare into the glass viewing room, watching as all inside clutched their clipboards and stared in horror at what was about to happen, although, I couldn't for the life of me figure out why.
"Doctor," Came over the intercom in a hasty, worried voice - 049's gloves stopping merely inches from my legs. "D-Doctor 049," They began again, "You said yourself that this girl didn't suffer with the 'Pestilence', are you going to kill her even so?"
The 'Pestilence'... yes, I did hear him mention that. Something about me not having 'it', whatever 'it' is. The creature's eyes carried over to the viewing room, a sigh escaping its mask, followed by a gentle, low chuckle.
"I never said anything about killing her, Doctor," He responded, his hands continuing his movements. "I merely want to give her a check up. You can't expect me to not help her." And with those words, his gloves reached my legs. Breaths were held in the area as a sporadic 'Wait!' rang over the intercom, only for the Doctor to gently place my legs on the bed before stepping back satisfied.
I was not dead, and I did not feel as if I was dying. I waited, as did everyone in the room, counting silently the ticking seconds that I was not falling down dead to. After around 10 seconds of me sitting up fully aware and blinking, a boom of sounds and voices came from the viewing room, echoing loudly even through the bullet-proof glass. Hysteria. Just as before, people moved madly as even more people entered the room, some arguing with others and papers flew in the air. Once again, something new and unique had occurred, and I knew my chances of survival had finally heightened. Although, I could only hope it did not rope me to this thing.
"They thought I was going to kill you," He spoke quietly, tilting his head just enough so I could hear him. "My touch, although lethal, is not for everyone. Worry not, sick one - I will find your cure." Through his strangely shaped 'face', and the eyes that started with vicious curiosity sang of a monster whom I should fear, do fear, there was a truth to his tone. The strange buzzing almost… robotic tone he held, was broken for a sound of intent. 'Your cure', it said. I stared at him, not knowing what to say next as he began to look me over, poking and prodding me with many different instruments - not hurting me, but the silence was terribly uncomfortable. The sounds of the facility were never that of comfort, and the distant low unidentified rumblings and Human screams did little to ease me into this little game of check up I was forced into. I felt like I had as a child, in the corner of a Doctor's office with a needle weiling nurse luring me out with sweets to have my injections - but the nurse was a creature unfathomable by the masses, and the sweets were the chance of survival. The best sweet, the only one I truly needed. For quite some time the creature poked and prodded at me, curious eyes ever staring, unblinking, my knees and hips popping with every specific touch.
"This… 'disability'," It began, holding my left thigh in his gloved hand. "It begins here, in this joint. Yes, I can sense it," I was going to reply, to confirm his suspicion, but as his body grew closer and his stare on my leg continued, I could only hope he didn't want to get a closer look. "Yes it's deep rooted, from birth I think. What a curse you bear, to be in an untreatable pain. I see you, Y/N. I see you."
I sat back in shock, eyes wide as this creature had spoken my name. It said it gently, like the name of a friend - and I swallowed hard to fight back the urge to vomit. The idea of being laced to this creature once more came to me, and as it did so did the fear inside of me. Never before had an SCP said my name, even though I was certain some that I had been with to test had the ability to. With a glance over once more to the ever busy viewing room, I saw that everyone inside had fallen silent and still, biting fingernails and placing gripped hands on shoulders - the facility was on the edge of its seat.
"I think that I can help you, Y/N. I think it's possible, I think I could cure you. Though, the cure to the Pestilence takes priority - I will do what I can when I can. Dr Frederik!" Voice raising, and gently placing my leg on the bed again, hang lingering on where my pain originates from making my hair stand on end.
"I want Y/N brought to me tomorrow, dressed in better and easier clothes to examine them in!"
"Doctor 049, you can't expect us to–"
"I can and do," He retorted strongly. "This person is sick, and I intend to cure them as none of you have intended to do so. She will be a marvel of medicine, don't you see? My own special project." An outstretched gloved hand met the top of my head, where he gave my hair a gentle rub before retracting, almost like a Scientist petting their personal lab rat. In those moments, my blood could've turned to ice - the touch wasn't one of affection, it was one of… ownership. Knowing ownership. It felt wrong, sickly, to be touched by this thing like that, and the idea of having to be in a hospital gown or god forbid any forms of nakedness in front of it made me want to crumble. And with that, the pressurised doors to the chamber opened up, guards stepping inside to escort me out. I truthfully felt great relief, but horror that I was to return again. As much as I felt 'safe' enough, I was no stranger to the fact that this thing was contained, and that was for good reason - though questions would come later, as I cared very little to upset the guards who carried guns nearly as big as my body.
As I went to get myself up, using my arms to slowly start pushing myself up the creature stopped me by raising a hand in my space in the 'wait' position, moving himself instead to the doorway. The guards reacted slightly, most likely because of how fast the thing walked, but slowly calmed as he stood with his hand out, palm facing the roof.
"Her cane." He spoke, his voice low and serious, his stance expectant and unmoving. The guards looked at each other with a shrug before a scientist came through, holding my cane in their hands, tentatively placing it in 049's hand, which looked like more of a snatch on 049's end. He made a low grumble sound before making his way back to me, offering me the cane and his hand to help me off the bed, which with little hesitation I took. I cared very little to touch him, but he was helping me leave, which I wouldn't complain about. Once on my feet, I walked towards the door where a large group of scientists and doctors awaited me.
As I got outside, and the doors began to shut - I glanced behind me, only to see 049 standing in the centre of his chamber, with his arms crossed neatly behind his back, staring at me.