A/N: I'm going to put this here and update the first chapter for newcomers.

WARNING: The following fanfic is going to address heavy themes (to the best of my ability, can't promise it will be flawless but I will do my best to be respectful and I am definitely compassionate towards those suffering) things like suicide, rape, genocide, body horror, child death, abuse, and all the mental health problems associated with surviving this shit (or leading to some of it). This is the SCP Universe. Yeah, Cole MacGrath is here, but it's not all sunshine and rainbows in the inFAMOUS games so it's not as if I just plopped the Icon of Hope (Superman) into the SCP Universe. I don't think that would be terribly interesting.

Anyway I hope you guys enjoy.

I used to love riding my bike. When I was a kid, me and my brother would set up little ramps and pretend like we were doing huge jumps off of them. Sometimes we would hit the ramp funny or it would have been moved to much from extended use and it would crap out. We would either fall off our bikes, tip over, or just land hard while remaining up right. I miss those days.

Currently, I'm riding a bike at breakneck speeds down the street. I try to slow down, but for whatever reason my body isn't reacting. I should be afraid, in fact I'm pretty sure I feel it somewhere, deep down. Yet, the adrenaline, the exhilaration from narrowly avoiding pedestrians and dodging death with every car we don't get hit by, pushes that fear aside, or maybe covers it up, and I feel alive. More alive then I have since...

Wait how was I here?

Who cares? Don't think about it. Enjoy it. This is freedom. And I love it.

I don't know how long I race down the street for but eventually I come to a building. I look at my phone's GPS and back up to the building, trying to find any sign or indication I was at the right place. The address on my GPS was 19th and Sloat. I'm pretty sure that's this parking garage. Though, I'm not sure why I know that.

"Is this even the right address? It's just a parking garage?" What the fuck?

That was not my voice. Wait, my hands... they're not this large. Was I always this tall? No. Those are man hands. What is happening?

Suddenly my thoughts are interrupted by my phone ringing. Caller display said the number was blocked. I was so confused, I'm not sure I ever decided to actually answer the call, but my body seemed to operate on instinct almost exclusively.

"Hello?" 'My' voice has a low whispered vocal rasp. Spoken with energy like I was on the move constantly. I actually kind of like it, despite not being very smooth.

"Cole MacGrath." The voice on the other end said matter-of-fact. Almost on edge. Who's Cole MacGrath?

The other man's voice sounded similar to mine. He seemed more deliberate in his delivery, like he was sure of what he was doing. This, funnily enough, gave it the smooth factor I was looking for... but something about the intent... My feelings I don't think are my own. I feel a sudden rage when he speaks. When he says my name. That isn't my rage.

"Who is this?" I ask flatly.

"The owner of that package you are carrying. Do me a favour, and open it up for me will you. I'll be right there." My teeth clenched tight, agitation now boiling to the surface.

"Look, that's not only against policy, but against the law. If this is some tri-" The man on the other end of the phone interrupts me.

"I'll pay you 500 dollars if you do." I pause. Looking down at the package and staring at it for awhile, I get this feeling I'm being played. I almost hear somebody else yelling for me to stop as I agree and unravel the paper.

The paper itself was layered on thick, with rope tying it off. After I finally remove all of that there's some softer material inside that I'm unfamiliar with, used to keep the item safe. When I remove that, I then see what I am carrying.

Some kind of sphere... not sure what this does or how to use it, but it was taken out like he asked me to. There was a long silence as I stared into the object, feeling as if though it was leeching off of me.

"What now?" There is more concern now. This thing looked high-tech. There was no way it belonged in my hands.

"Activate it. It needs time to warm up and by the time I meet up with you, I'd like it to be ready."

"There is no way I should turn this thing on. Is this a bomb?"

"Not really. I must say, I'm glad you aren't such a fool that you would just activate something that was clearly beyond your scope of comprehension. At least currently. No matter, it was on a timer anyway."

"Wai-EVERYBODY GE-" I try to warn all the people around me standing right in the middle of the historic district. It doesn't help.

A beep was heard and hydraulic noises were made as the metal plates shifted to compress the object, before decompressing to let out the ever brightening mass swirl of blue energy. It engulfed me. The light was blinding, the energy was burning my skin, and it was loud. Deafening. I couldn't hear or see, and all I could feel was pain. I tasted what I think what plasma must taste like, and the smell of burning flesh was overwhelming.

Next thing I know, I wake up in a crater, and begin running for my life, making it to a bridge before I pass out, accidentally killing more people along the way. Nobody seems to realize it was me. This haunts me to this day.

As I slip into unconsciousness I can somehow... I don't know... hear the screams of the dying. Crushed by falling buildings or being burned alive in the fires.

Trish lost her sister, almost lost me. Zeke was always there, somehow sure that I would wake up from that hospital bed.

For two weeks I was in there, while outside the city fell apart.

The voice was in my head now. It was the same one belonging to me from the dream. It sounded more familiar though. There was some grief in his tone. As sure as he was as the caller about what he speaks about, but the grief... then my vision shifts and I see images of people dying... and it doesn't stop.

A plague struck. Followed by rioting, theft, rapes, civilization was committing suicide. In a bullshit attempt to contain the biological threat, the federal government locked down all access in and out of the city. Now we're stuck in this cage with the psychos.

Cops were all but gone off the streets. Either dead or too chicken shit to stand against the gangs that control shit now.

Outside things were bad... but inside... inside me, something was beginning.

Scary as hell at first. You gotta understand there was no one to talk to. No experts to consult. But with time I'm learning to control it. Master it.

I just hope it's not too late.

I abruptly wake up. My eyes springing open to a very dark room. For a moment I forget where I am. A panic threatening to set in, but then the events of the day flood to the front of my mind. It keeps me from panicking, but I don't necessarily relax.

I'm on the run now. I've tried this before, and it didn't work. My problem was I was a young stupid kid that didn't realize The Foundation would have seen me buy that plane ticket or even get on that bus. They have eyes and ears everywhere, looking out for new anomalies 24/7.

I sigh as I take in my surroundings as best I can in the dark room. The clock on the stand said 8:00pm. Why did I sleep for so long? I curse at myself for wasting so much time. If I don't hurry up, I might miss my chance at hitchhiking out of town. Really the only safe way to get out unnoticed. Well that or walk, but I don't have the supplies for that. Quite frankly, I don't necessarily want to be out between towns alone at this time of night.

I roll over and look towards the bathroom. Nothing out of the ordinary. I am a bit chilly now, though I don't know why. The window is closed...

Wait the window is closed? When I got here it was slightly open with the curtains partially drawn. Now it's closed and the drapes are fully drawn.

The anxiety begins to rise in my chest now. Did I get caught already? Who was here? Are they still here? Did I just wake up in another dream from my previous one? What the hell was that dream about anyway?

Then I hear something move on the other side of the room.

What the fuck was that? I can't see very well but when I slowly turned towards the source I nearly pissed myself. Someone or something was occupying the chair in the room. The light from the street lamps outside barely made their way into the room, giving it a slight pale hue nearest the window and against some of the wall. It barely gave me a glimpse of the shadow that was sitting in that chair.

I clutch the blanket closer to me. My grip is so tight that my fingers hurt. I try to stay as still and as quiet as possible, but me being an idiot started automatically holding my breath to remain quiet and since I was on the verge of a panic attack it was hastening the effects. When I finally remember to breathe, it was shallow, uneven, and rapid. I was shaking and if I didn't get myself under control I'd definitely alert whatever this was to the fact that I was awake and aware of it's presence.

Just breathe Iris. In through the nose, count, 1, 2, 3, 4, and hold. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, and release, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, and repeat. I did this about two more times before the being suddenly moved it's head and opened it's eyes to reveal glowing golden-yellow irises.

I wanted to scream, but instead my breathing technique was halted and all I could manage was a whimper. So pathetic. After all this time I was still the same terrified girl when the foundation first took me in. Never getting any dignity, in life or in death. At least it will be over soon.

Despite the suicidal thoughts, I don't calm. I'm still scared and there is still a part of me that wants to live. The emotional battle going on inside takes over and I can't do anything. I feel like my heart will explode in my chest, or that I might suffocate myself if I don't breath soon. Then the thing stands up. It walks over to the wall close to the chair and reaches out for something.

Then the lights turn on, and I'm looking at a shirtless man. His eyes never left me but when the light turned on they went from that eerie golden-yellow glow to a very normal hazel. Was I just hallucinating?

He retracts his hand from the wall and puts his arm at his side, keeping his gaze on me. I'm still a little scared, my breathing still erratic, but I recognize him. I begin my exercise again and recall that this was the guy that was in the diner. I had wondered if he would come back to the motel after I stole his key to get in, but I wasn't sure what I would do if he did.

He seems to be studying me. Not moving, in fact I wasn't sure that he blinked once. As the seconds turned to minutes, I finally regulated my breathing, my anxiety dropped a bit but I was uncertain of what this guy was going to do in light of my actions.

After I've calmed I begin to sit up and remember why I was chilly. I was basically naked, wearing nothing but a shirt and panties and my legs were mostly exposed. He could see almost everything. I almost groan out loud, having been in similar situations with the Foundation, though normally the ones inspecting me weren't so well toned and shirtless. He has tattoos, and some scars. He looks really good.

When I realize we are basically just staring at each other, each half naked, I move the blanket to cover myself and my face heats up. I can barely look at him now, but it doesn't seem like he was staring at my exposed legs and panties, he was looking right at me.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you or make you uncomfortable." He speaks, with a whispered rasp. It's pleasing to my ears. Better then the MTF barking orders at me or researching staff droning on with their questions and procedures. Definitely better then the horrors I had to hear through the years.

I wasn't sure how to proceed. Unsure of what's going to happen next. Will he turn me in? It didn't seem like he would, given that he offered to help me get away from Clef. Is he mad though that I stole his key? He didn't seem like it. Though his face was stoic, and calculating at the moment. In contrast to his calm voice it made me uncomfortable how intensely he was staring at me.

"Here, how about I introduce myself properly this time. I'm Cole MacGrath. What's your name?" He walks up to the bed at a moderately slow pace. When he got in arms length he extends his right hand.

I stare at him, and then his hand, and then at him again, blankly. I am taken by surprise, not believing that I wasn't being hauled off or berated for stealing his motel key.

"Um, I'm Iris Thompson." I try to keep my voice even and firm as I slowly reach out to touch his finger with mine, testing to see if I'll be electrocuted on contact. Would be a good way to trick somebody. Luckily it doesn't appear to be the case. Not that I would have noticed any sparks in our hands. Our eyes never leave the others gaze. He gives a small smirk at my antics.

"Unless I want you to be, you aren't going to get shocked, Iris Thompson." Believing him, due to my test more than anything else, I grasp his hand properly and give it a good shake.

His calloused grip is firm, but doesn't destroy my hand. I realize how warm his hand is. Warmer then the hands of Foundation researchers and medical staff. In fact, it had been so long, I wasn't sure if this was how a normal hand felt at all. Was my dad this warm? Anthony? I don't remember.

"Nice to meet you." We relinquish the grasp on each other and he lowers himself under the bed. Weird. I immediately hear some rummaging of what was likely a bag and some metal scraping across the floor.

"Uh, what are you doing?" I didn't get a response, rather, Cole just stood up and gestured to the bag in his hands. It has what looks like a HUGE tuning fork attached to it. Though it has various implements and wires connected to some device.

Definitely interested in what that does.

"Grabbing what I came back for." He plops the bag on the bed and opens it up, inspecting it's contents. He glances at me every so often but, minded his bag more than anything.

After a few moments he closes the bag back up and leaves it on the bed as he turns towards the chair.

"So what happens now?" I ask.

"How do these people operate?"

"The Foundation?" He nods. "Well, they tend to try and capture any and all anomalies. Contain them, study them, keep the public ignorant to it all. They have whole strike teams for it." Cole sighs, as he stops digging through his backpack.

"So if we don't move now, there's going to be a fight."

"I mean, if you think fighting them is a good idea that's on you. I've personally seen how that ends for a lot of people, and SCP's."

"I'm not like most people."

"No way! Really?"

"Oh, my God."

"I would never have guessed."

"Funny."

"You know, because I've seen guys throw lightning out of their hands before. In such creative ways too. Not to mention getting shot with bullets and not giving a damn. Actually that last one..." I shutter at the thought of another monster I haven't seen for years.

"Are you done?" Cole's voice pulls me back from those memories and I see that he's closing his bag.

"Yeah."

"Good. Get dressed."