Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Item #: SCP-1103

Object Class: Safe

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-1103 is currently kept in a 5m x 5m room with an attached bathroom completed with shower and bathtub. Cell contains a full sized bed with a nightstand, three bookshelves, a TV with a DVD player, a desk with a swivel chair, a dresser, and two love seats facing each other with a coffee table in between. Two and one half of the bookshelves are taken up with books of various fiction and nonfiction genre. The empty half of the last bookshelf is taken up by DVDs of movies and TV shows of various genre. SCP-1103 may request new material provided it be reviewed beforehand. SCP-1103 is allowed to wear whatever wardrobe he may choose.

SCP-1103 may leave his room provided he is accompanied by at least two staff members with no knowledge of compromising information.

Description: SCP-1103 is a young male, age 8 upon arrival however ages normally. SCP-1103 is currently age 16. Standing at 5'10" and 120lbs in weight. Subject has short brown hair and green eyes. Subject is nearsighted and requires corrective lenses.

SCP-1103 has the ability to know every fact of anything he sees or touches. The object of being does not have to be in the same room as SCP-1103 for SCP-1103 to know about it. A photograph, for example, will suffice. When shown a photograph of a victim of the infamous “Jack the Ripper" SCP-1103 informed personnel that the murderer, also known as the identity of Jack the Ripper, was [Redacted] whom died of illness on the date, [Redacted].

SCP-1103 was recovered in the city of [Redacted] when multiple online news outlets began featuring a story of a boy who knew everything. The now deceased parents of SCP-1103 began using the talents of SCP-1103 for their own personal gain. SCP-1103 was recovered after the murder and attempted murder of his parents and him respectively when SCP-1103 revealed private information that the client did not want out.

SCP-1103 prefers to go by the name given to him at birth, “Logan.” SCP-1103 shows little to no emotion but brain scans have shown that SCP-1103 has the same range of human emotions as any other human, he simply chooses not to show them.

It is suggested that SCP-1103 be introduced to other SCPs. SCP-1103 has become acquainted with the following SCPs: SCP-0604, SCP-0115, and SCP-1219. All four SCPs have requested to eat their meals together. The request has been approved.

Chapter Text

Item #: SCP-0604

Object Class: Euclid

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-0604 is currently kept in a 5m x 5m room with an attached bathroom completed with shower and bathtub. Cell contains a full sized bed with a nightstand, a bookshelf, a TV with a DVD player, a wardrobe, and a couch with a coffee table. The bookshelf is taken up with fiction books, all of which are fairytales, and movies, all of which are Disney. SCP-0604 may request new material provided it be reviewed beforehand. SCP-0604 is allowed to wear whatever wardrobe he may choose.

SCP-0604 may leave his room provided he is accompanied by at least two staff members of at least level-2 security.

Description: SCP-0604 is a young male, age 10 upon arrival however ages normally. SCP-0604 is currently age 16. Standing at 5'10" and 135lbs in weight. Subject has short dirty blond hair and auburn eyes.

SCP-0604 has the ability to conjure organic and inorganic matter into existence at will. Anything created by SCP-0604 will disappear once SCP-0604 is unconscious.

The exception to this is a stuffed rabbit classified as SCP-0604-1. SCP-0604 has named SCP-0604-1 “Mrs. Fluffybottom.” SCP-0604 claims he can keep up to one item in existence for as long as he wants and SCP-0604-1 is his choice item.

SCP-0604 can conjure things that do not, or should not, exist in the real world such as unicorns or dragons.

There is no limit to how many things SCP-0604 can conjure at a time. Despite having virtually limitless power, SCP-0604 is not hostile and does not abuse his abilities to hurt or harm others. Most of the time, SCP-0604 uses his ability of creation to tell stories by means of fantasy worlds to those who will listen.

Despite his ongoing fascination with fantasy worlds, SCP-0604 knows the distinction between real life and fantasy.

SCP-0604 has also used his powers of creation to ease or cheer up an otherwise distressed personnel.

The association caught wind of SCP-0604 when townspeople began hearing many types of animals from within an abandoned warehouse. Townspeople who went inside the abandoned warehouse, however, claimed it to be empty. When association officials investigated the warehouse, they found SCP-0604 hiding in a secret room behind a panel in the wall with a book of animals in his possession.

SCP-0604's life before the time he was found is still unknown. Any and all methods to get him to speak about it has not yet worked.

SCP-0604 calls himself, “Prince Roman" however he told personnel they can call him, “Roman" for short. SCP-0604 is regal and boisterous in personality, and has a very creative mind. SCP-0604 likes to write down all of the stories that he tells through his creations.

It is suggested that SCP-0604 be introduced to other SCPs. SCP-0604 has become acquainted with the following SCPs: SCP-1103, SCP-0115, and SCP-1219. All four SCPs have requested to eat their meals together. The request has been approved.

Chapter Text

Item #: SCP-0115

Object Class: Euclid

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-0115 is currently kept in a 5m x 5m room with an attached bathroom completed with shower and bathtub. Cell contains a full sized bed with a nightstand, one bookshelf, a TV with a DVD player, a crafts table with two cushioned chairs, a dresser, and one love seat. The top shelf of the bookshelf contains animated movies from Disney and DreamWorks. SCP-0115 may request new material provided it be reviewed beforehand. The rest of the shelves are taken up by various types of art supplies and a radio with various CD’s. SCP-0115 is allowed to wear whatever wardrobe he may choose.

SCP-0115 may leave his room provided he is accompanied by at least two staff members of at least level-2 security.

Description: SCP-0115 is a young male, age 12 upon arrival however ages normally. SCP-0115 is currently age 17. Standing at 5'8" and 140lbs in weight. Subject has short light brown hair and blue eyes. Subject is nearsighted and requires corrective lenses.

SCP-0115 has the ability to induce positive emotions in a human. Along with affecting a human with positive emotion, SCP-0115 has the ability to sway a human to make the morally right decision in their actions.

SCP-0115 gets along well with test subjects and researchers, and cooperates well.

SCP-0115 was recovered from an abandoned hunters cabin in a forest in [Redacted]. Townspeople claimed of a mysterious box outside of the old cabin with a sign that read, “Give food, get happiness.” Personnel came for the box but soon realized it was the child hiding in the cabin with the anomalous properties.

After being brought in, SCP-0115 explained how he got into the situation he was in. According to SCP-0115, his family, which included SCP-0115, his younger brother, and his mother and father, had spent a day at [Redacted] for his twelfth birthday. When they were driving back home it was late and dark outside. A deer appeared in the middle of the road and in an attempt to avoid it, his father tried to swerve around it but lost control of the car, they were run down a hill and hit a tree. SCP-0115 was the only survivor and upon realizing this information, distraught and unknowing of what to do, he left the car and fled into the woods. The cabin he was found in was in the woods he ran into.

Despite his tragedy, SCP-0115 can be described as a cheerful and happy individual. SCP-0115 can be known to crack jokes, usually puns. SCP-0115 has stated that he just wants everyone to be happy. He has also stated that personnel may call him, Patton.

It is suggested that SCP-0115 be introduced to other SCPs. SCP-0115 has become acquainted with the following SCPs: SCP-1103, SCP-0604, and SCP-1219. All four SCPs have requested to eat their meals together. The request has been approved.

Addendum 0115-1: SCP-0115 can sense the emotions of other humans.

When put into a room with SCP-1219, despite not being able to see him initially, SCP-0115 stated he could sense SCP-1219's emotions and therefore knew he was there. In this same meeting, personnel discovered that SCP-0115 and SCP-1219's emotional auras cancel each other out.

Addendum 0115-2: Due to Incident 0115-A, it has been learned that SCP-0115 can induce a whole range of human emotions rather than just positive emotions. Item class changed from “Safe” to “Euclid”. It seems though that SCP-0115 is still only able to make sway in the morally right decision. Incident 0115-A has been the only case of SCP-0115 exhibiting non-positive emotional induction.

Incident 0115-A: Upon learning of Incident 1219-A from SCP-1219 himself, personnel no longer felt positive emotions from SCP-0115 but rather extreme guilt and clinical depression. SCP-0115 used his powers of sway to share a containment cell with SCP-1219. Once SCP-1219 was successfully moved into SCP-0115's containment cell, personnel began to feel positive emotions around SCP-0115 again. Researchers decided to let SCP-0115 and SCP-1219 continue sharing a containment cell when it showed positive repercussions to SCP-1219.

The containment cell now has SCP-0115's belongings on the right side and SCP-1219's belongings on the left side. Both full size mattresses were removed and replaced with a bunk bed in the middle.

Addendum 0115-3: SCP-0115 has complete control over his emotional inductions. See Addendum 1219-2 for more detail.

Chapter Text

Item #: SCP-1219

Object Class: Euclid

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-1219 is currently kept in a 5m x 5m room with an attached bathroom completed with shower and bathtub. Cell must have infrared camera at all times. Cell contains a full sized bed with a nightstand, one bookshelf, a TV with a DVD player, a recliner, and a dresser. The bookshelf contains movies ranging from Disney to documentaries about conspiracy theories, stacks of notebooks next to a range of pens and pencils, and a spot for an mp3 player with music SCP-1219 requested be put on it. SCP-1219 may request new material provided it be reviewed beforehand. SCP-1219 is allowed to wear whatever wardrobe he may choose.

SCP-1219 may leave his room provided he is accompanied by at least two staff members of at least level-2 security, but he must remain visible the entire time outside of his containment cell or else SCP-1219 will not be allowed to leave his containment cell for a month.

Description: SCP-1219 is a young male, age 13 upon arrival however ages normally. SCP-1219 is currently age 16. Standing at 5'6" and 110lbs in weight. Subject has short dark brown hair and brown eyes.

SCP-1219 has the ability to turn invisible and make things he touches invisible as well, such as the clothes he is wearing. People who are around SCP-1219 are said to become increasingly anxious the longer they are around him, even becoming debilitating.

The association caught wind of SCP-1219 when they heard of an orphan who bounced around from houses and orphanages because at least one person would commit suicide at every place he stayed at. According to his file, SCP-1219 became an orphan when both of his parents committed suicide when he was just three months old.

SCP-1219 has a diagnosed case of anxiety and it is unknown if this is caused by his anomalous properties or if it is just another case of serotonin deficiency. SCP-1219 is very quiet and recluse, keeping to himself and only speaks and shows himself to those he trusts. Weekly therapy sessions scheduled.

It is suggested that SCP-1219 be introduced to other SCPs. SCP-1219 has become acquainted with the following SCPs: SCP-0115, SCP-1103, and SCP-0604. All four SCPs have requested to eat their meals together. The request has been approved.

Incident 1219-A: Upon SCP-1219's arrival, when he realized where he was taken, SCP-1219 had a severe anxiety attack and lashed out at personnel. A personnel beat SCP-1219 and left SCP-1219 unconscious for three days. The personnel responsible stated it was self defense and received no repercussions.

Incident 1219-B: SCP-1219 has been moved into SCP-0115's containment cell with the sway of SCP-0115. See Incident 0115-A for further detail.

Addendum 1219-1: SCP-1219 can control his anxious aura.

Upon SCP-1219's therapist, Doctor [Redacted], gaining SCP-1219's trust, Doctor [Redacted] claims no longer having feelings of anxiety around SCP-1219. SCP-1219 also began to let Doctor [Redacted] call him by his given name, “Virgil” which SCP-1219 only lets the people he trusts call him.

Addendum 1219-2: SCP-1219 claimed he only recently learned how to control his anxious aura with the help of SCP-0115 who can control his own emotional aura.

Chapter Text

Virgil woke up to a dip in his bed and a voice saying his name, “Virge? Time to wake up.”

Virgil opened his eyes and looked up at Patton. “Let’s go get breakfast!” Patton chirped. Virgil turned around and faced the wall, pulling his covers higher over himself. Patton frowned. “Is today a bad day?”

Virgil responded by turning himself and his blanket invisible.

“Logan and Roman will be there,” Patton informed. “You always end up regretting skipping a meal with them. You don’t even have to say anything, they’ll understand.”

Virgil turned visible and looked just behind Patton at the two guards waiting by the open door. Patton looked behind him at the two of them too. He knew how nervous the guards made him. He turned back to Virgil. “I’ll hold your hand if that makes you feel better.”

That got Virgil to finally agree, gaining nod from him, and a proud smile from Patton. Virgil got up and clasped onto Patton's outstretched hand after pulling his hood up.

On the walk through the unbearably empty hallway, Virgil kept his head down but he couldn’t help but eye the stun guns attached to the guards waists, at the ready. Patton noticed, and squeezed his hand tighter. They were taken to a room with one way glass, the window on the outside, and were shown in.

Patton beamed when the door opened. “Good morning, Logan! Good morning, Roman!”

“Good morning, Padre!” Roman greeted back just as enthusiastically.

“Salutations.” Logan provided his own greeting. He nodded to Virgil too. “Virgil, good morning to you as well.”

Virgil provided a half nod without looking up as the door behind them closed and they joined the other two at the table. “Virgil isn't having a very good morning,” Patton explained for him. “He isn't in much of a talking mood right now.”

“Is that so?” Roman asked. To be honest, it wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. It usually happened at least twice a week. “Would this help, perhaps?” Roman snapped his fingers and a hairless cat appeared on Virgil's lap. A slight rustling could be heard outside the door but ultimately the door did not open. “Honestly, I’ve never done a bad thing before, why would I start now?”

Virgil zipped the cat up into his hoodie and held it close to him. Virgil has mentioned before how he liked cats but the first time Roman summoned one, they were greeted with a congested Patton, informing them of his allergy. Only hairless cats were allowed now and Virgil was okay with that.

The four of them helped themselves to the food laid out on the table for them prior to their arrival. Patton was ecstatic to find it was waffle day.

“I wish the four of us could all share a cell together, that way we could hang out all day.” Patton commented while they ate.

“Just sway them like you did with Virgil.” Roman suggested.

Patton shook his head. “I got in a lot of trouble last time I did that,” And when Virgil began to look distressed, Patton quickly added. “I don’t regret it, I’m glad I did it.” He side smiled at Virgil and Virgil's shoulders began to relax.

“It also seems that with each new ability they learn of us, they make sure to take the necessary precautions. It would not be foolish to assume that they have already put a failsafe in place in the case of Patton trying such a stunt again.” Logan added. “But still,” He continued. “I wouldn’t… be opposed to the idea of sharing a space either.”

Virgil held tighter to the cat with his right arm while eating with his left, nodding in agreement with the conversation at hand.

“I’ll be the first to turn eighteen,” Patton said. “What if they let me out then, and I can adopt all of you and take you with me?” It was wishful thinking and they all knew it, but they had nothing if they couldn’t dream here.

“I’d love to live in a cottage in the middle of the forest,” Roman sighed. “It's where I used to live when I was a child, it was beautiful. There was just enough clearing for the house and a front yard, and the rest was surrounded by nothing but trees for miles. I just loved going down to the stream and play there for hours.” Roman eyed the security camera in the room, watching and listening to the four of them, knowing this new piece of information would show up in his file.

“It was a beautiful place,” Logan agreed. He knew everything about them, and they would always be grateful to his generosity of keeping things to himself that they have not yet shared themselves.

“Let’s get a cat and a dog, and move into a place like that.” Patton said. “We could be away from everything but still be able to go outside.”

Roman nodded, “Sounds like a plan.”

The four of them lapsed into silence and a certain aura of depression fell over the room as they thought about the slim likelihood of such a dream happening. It was the wishful thinking of a caged dog.

Patton didn’t like the mood they fell into so he gave some happiness to Roman and Logan. His abilities didn’t work on Virgil so Patton would wait until they were back in their room.

When the four of them finished their meal, and the guards made Virgil get rid of the cat, they parted ways.

When they arrived back to their room, Patton suggested, “Let’s play a game.”

Virgil watched the guards leave and the door close before softly, always softly, he asked, “Which one?”

“Whichever one you want, but only if you want to play.” Patton reassured.

Virgil thought on it, looking through the stacks of board games Patton recreated himself. Virgil walked over and grabbed the checkers set.

Patton smiled and they sat at the crafts table and set it up, Virgil black as always and Patton red as always. As they played, it helped relax both of them.

Chapter Text

It turns out it was a bad day for not only Virgil, but Patton as well. The two of them decided to take a nap together on Virgil's bed, something they did on days when they’re both feeling depressed. They were awoken hours later to their door opening and a guard calling, “SCP-1219, it's time for your weekly therapy session.”

Virgil didn’t want to get up, and he stared at Patton pleadingly. Patton gave him a sad smile, “Go on, I promise I’ll still be here when you get back, Kiddo.” It felt less like a promise and more like a stated fact to Virgil, however he didn’t want to disappoint Patton, so he got up and followed the guards out the door, pulling his hood up and his sleeves over his hands as he did.

Virgil walked stiffly, always most anxious when walking alone with the guards. They scared him more than any Keter class thing in this place.

The personnel and Virgil arrived at a room similar to the one he was dropped off at for breakfast, or maybe it was the same room. Virgil neither knew nor cared.

Virgil was pushed inside the room with his therapist who wore that ever present smile. It faltered, however, when he saw how they pushed Virgil. The guards made to enter the room too, but his therapist held up a hand and said, “That'll be fine, thanks, you can leave us.” The guards left, leaving Virgil inside and locking the door behind them.

A beat of silence followed as they made eye contact, and Virgil's therapist gestured to the seat in front of him, “Have a seat, Virgil, if you feel like taking a seat.” Virgil did not take a seat, he was feeling far too anxious. Instead, he walked the perimeter of the room. His therapist reacted easily, okay with Virgil standing, and clicked his pen open, placing ink to paper. “How are you doing this fine afternoon?”

Virgil stopped his pacing, just long enough to stare at his therapist, rolling through his mind if he felt okay enough to talk. Some days they would go the whole session without so much as a single word from Virgil, but this time he felt a little better, he thought it must have been the nap. Virgil spoke so softly one would have to strain to hear him, “Is it really a fine afternoon?”

“Well, I think it is if you want it to be,” His therapist replied optimistically.

Virgil shook his head, “That’s not what I mean, Doctor Picani. Is it a nice day outside?”

Doctor Picani knew what he meant. He opened Virgil's case file and pulled out three Polaroid photos, and slid them across the table. Virgil eyed them, finally deciding to take a seat, and examined the pictures one by one. It showed different scenery of a beautiful spring day. “I took those today, it was a beautiful day and I thought you’d like them. They’re yours to keep for your collection.”

Virgil's throat closed, and he carefully placed the pictures in his jacket pocket. This wasn’t the first time Doctor Picani has done this for him, but Virgil was having a particularly bad day today, and he found that this common, small gesture he was given overwhelmed him.

Virgil tapped his fingers on the table in a repetitive motion, Doctor Picani's initial question rolling around in his head. “Not good,” He croaked.

Picani tilted his head, “Hm?”

“You asked how I was doing. I’m not doing good.”

“Do you want to talk about why?” Picani asked, face softening.

Virgil sat, staring at the table in front of him, trying to regain his composure before he spoke. “I had another dream last night… about the people I've hurt.”

Picani wrote something down as he replied, “How does that make you feel?”

Virgil pulled his hoodie sleeves over his hands in a desperate attempt to further hide himself. “Guilty,” He admitted. “I didn’t mean to do it, but I didn’t know how to stop it.”

“You do now,” Picani stated softly, trying to ease Virgil's anxiety. “I no longer feel anxious in your presence.”

Virgil nodded distractedly, “Patton taught me...” Then as reassurance to himself he repeated, “Patton taught me.”

“Is your dream the only reason you’re not doing well today?”

Virgil shook his head. He resumed his tapping. “Today at breakfast they talked about places they want to live.”

“They?” Picani asked.

“Logan, Roman, and Patton. I wasn't talking this morning.” Virgil clarified.

Doctor Picani adjusted his glasses and smiled a bit, “It seems you’re talking now. That’s progress, right?”

Virgil shrugged.

“What were your friends talking about at breakfast?”

“…Freedom.”

Picani's smile faltered, replaced with a tight smile, nothing short of sympathetic.

Virgil continued. “They talked about where they wanted to live when…” He stopped talking, then sighed. “If we get out of here. Roman mentioned a cottage in the woods, away from everything. I think I'd like to live there too.”

Picani wrote as Virgil talked, humming and nodding to indicate he was listening while Virgil continued.

“They mentioned that the four of us could live together at the cottage and… I’d like that too. It calms me down when I’m with them. They provide constancy.”

“This place can be a bit sporadic sometimes,” Picani agreed. “It's good to have a constant to keep you grounded.

“None of us were feeling well when the conversation ended. Patton used his powers to make Roman and Logan feel better, but he wasn’t feeling better so we played checkers after breakfast.”

“What about you? Were you still feeling bad?”

“Yeah,” Virgil confirmed. “But playing a board game usually helps us both. We took a nap afterwards.”

Doctor Picani wrote down everything Virgil told him and he finished writing a sentence before asking, “Is your nap the reason why you feel up to talking to me today?”

Virgil nodded. “I hope it helped Patton too. He likes to put others' feelings first so I like when he’s upset.”

Picani quirked an eyebrow and Virgil realized how that sounded. He quickly elaborated.

“Patton's so busy putting everyone else first that he forgets to let his own feelings out. I like when he’s upset because he’s finally showing his emotions he hides and I can take care of him for a change. I can pay him back for all the times he’s helped my pathetic self.”

“Now, now,” Picani tutted, “You’re not pathetic and nothing you feel is pathetic either.”

Virgil sunk in his chair. He disagreed but didn’t voice it, instead he thought about Roman’s suggestion and asked, “Can Logan and Roman share a cell with Patton and me? All of us want to.”

The doors behind Virgil opened and the guards called time. But Picani wasn’t finished just yet. He fished through his briefcase and pulled out a DVD, then handed it to Virgil. “Here's the next episode of Steven Universe,” Picani winked. “It's a good one too.”

Virgil nodded his thanks, pocketing it with his photos and turned to leave.

When Virgil made it to the door, Picani stopped him. “Oh, and Virgil?”

Virgil turned back to look at him.

Picani smiled, “It's not within my jurisdiction to move containment cells, but I'll do my best to put in a good word.”

Virgil’s lips quirked up a bit and he turned back to leave.

Virgil held tightly to the items in his pocket while he walked back, protecting his treasured items like they were gold. Patton sat at the crafts table, knitting when Virgil returned and smiled at him tiredly when he noticed Virgil's arrival. “How did your session go?”

Virgil borrowed some tape from Patton's shelf and added the photos to the others Picani had gifted him, on the wall next to his shelf, then pulled out the DVD from his pocket and asked, “Wanna watch Steven Universe?”

Patton's eyes lit up. “That sounds great.”

Chapter Text

Even though their abilities cancelled each other out, Patton could still sense Virgil's emotions, just as Virgil could still turn invisible around Patton. Whenever Virgil came back from his therapy sessions, he always felt lighter to Patton. Virgil wasn’t okay completely, there was always that ever present negativity in his heart, but it wasn’t as prominent after his sessions.

Patton distracted his own negative emotions with the cartoon Virgil brought back. Virgil had mentioned that Doctor Picani said it was supposed to be a good episode. Patton agreed with Doctor Picani wholeheartedly.

Patton wished he could have weekly therapy sessions with Doctor Picani too, and he knew he could have it if he asked, but he felt like he was too far into his charade of constant wellness to suddenly break it now, even if he hurt inside more than he liked to admit.

When the episode ended, and Virgil turned off the TV, he looked over at Patton. Patton thought his emotions must have been showing on his face because Virgil asked, “You okay, Pat?”

Patton smiled, “I’m fine, Kiddo. I’m just feeling a little under the weather today.”

Virgil didn’t respond at first, instead his face showed debate within himself. Patton waited patiently, it wasn’t an uncommon thing for Virgil. He was often anxious about saying the wrong thing, so he sometimes takes the time to find the correct way to phrase it. Virgil seemed to arrive at his solution and carefully said, “I know you don’t have a therapist like I do, but if there’s something on your mind, you can vent to me about it. I’ll listen… if you want.”

Patton smiled softly and hugged Virgil around his neck. They were very much each other's rock in this lonely place, and knew how fortunate they were to be able to share a cell with one another. But despite that, Patton didn’t feel ready to talk yet, so he let go of Virgil, held both of Virgil’s hands instead, and said, “I would appreciate that, Virge. Thank you. I’m not ready right now, but I promise I'll tell you when I am.”

That was good enough for Virgil, they both mutually knew that sometimes they just didn’t want to open up at the moment.

Patton thought they needed something warm and happy to watch, so he picked out Winnie the Pooh from his shelf and placed it in the DVD player to watch.

As Patton and Virgil curled up on the couch together while the movie played, Patton couldn’t help but be reminded of when he and his little brother curled up on their couch and watched the same movie at home. Patton wiped his eyes and didn’t let more tears fall after the first one that did without his permission. He missed his little brother so much. He missed his whole family so much. But he and his little brother had a very strong bond; they were best friends and did everything together. Patton admired his brother just as much as his brother admired him.

Patton's little brother's favorite Winnie the Pooh character was Piglet, because Piglet was anxious a lot, just like he was. Patton sometimes wondered if that’s why he felt such a strong connection to Virgil since he first met him, because of just how much Virgil reminded Patton of his brother.

Patton hated to admit how guilty this made him feel. He wondered if his brother thought Patton was replacing him. Patton knows in his heart this isn’t true, but still, it's a feeling he battles with, especially since sometimes, when Virgil and him are curled up like this, he closes his eyes and pretends the one next to him is his little brother, and that the two of them are back at home, alive and together.

Patton caught himself doing it again now, and he abruptly pulled away from Virgil and placed himself on the other side of the couch. Virgil looked at him, expression hurt and confused, but Patton just couldn’t help it. Virgil didn’t deserve this. Patton cared so dearly for Virgil and Virgil was so much more, and worth so much more, than Patton's replacement for his deceased brother.

Virgil paused the movie and sat back down, sitting on the other side of the couch, farthest opposite Patton as he could be, giving Patton the space he wanted. Virgil played with his sleeve and stared down at his lap, “I’m sorry.” He mumbled.

Patton felt his heart drop. It wasn’t Virgil's fault. This wasn’t Virgil's fault. “Don't say that!” Patton blurted quickly. Loud noises made Virgil anxious and he flinched. Patton winced and made sure to speak softer and even. “I’m sorry,” He quickly apologized. “But please don’t apologize, Virge. You didn’t do anything wrong, it was me. I’m sorry for pulling away and startling you.”

“What’s wrong then?” Virgil asked, still not looking up, and looking very insecure.

Patton didn’t want to tell him. He didn’t want to potentially hurt Virgil more. He knew Virgil's past left him with so many insecurities and a heavy dose of self-loathing. Patton didn’t want to add to that. He decided to be honest about what he could.

“I’m dealing with some things internally right now. I don’t want talk about them yet, but I’m sorry it leaked onto you. I never wanted to make you feel that way, Kiddo.” Patton kept his voice even and sincere, even though he really just wanted to scream out everything he had bottled up inside. Patton knew he just couldn’t bring himself to do it though. He has always been the one taking care of everyone else, even before the accident, and he found comfort in staying in that hole, even if it tore him apart at the same time. Patton held out his hand to Virgil. “Let’s hold hands instead, is that okay?”

Virgil nodded and reached out for Patton's hand. They sat side by side and Virgil reached for the remote to press play, but before he did, he said, “I wish your heart wasn’t so heavy. I don’t want you to bear it alone, Pat. I won’t force you to talk about it, but I’m here when you do,” and he pressed play.

Patton felt his lips tug into a small smile, and he squeezed Virgil's hand a bit tighter. He still hurt, but once again he felt lucky that they were fortunate enough to share a cell together.

Chapter Text

Logan despised testing days.

The experiments were neither harsh nor painful, which Logan was grateful for, even if they were perhaps painfully boring. The experiments were simply always the same. In times like this, Logan often found himself recalling the quote, “The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.” The stagnant tests consisted of experiments catered around his abilities.

After being escorted from his containment cell to the testing chamber by personnel with no knowledge of the experiment, he was sat in a metal chair in the center of a concrete room and left alone. Groups of test subjects would enter the testing chamber in groups of three or four, then one of multiple things would happen. Either they came in blind, which meant that they had no idea what was behind the door and what the experiment was going to be, or they came in with a list of questions to ask, or there would be no test subjects but instead a table in front of Logan with various objects sitting upon it, which he would have to give the history of.

Or there was today. When Logan was blindfolded once again and asked if he can still receive knowledge with his senses of hearing, smell, or sound.

Logan especially hated these days because this experiment, out of all of them, was the most futile, he has stated before, and it has been proven before, that he can only gain knowledge with his senses of sight and touch.

He heard three sets of feet enter the room and stop at what must have been three feet away from Logan. “Is this a joke?” A gruff voice asked. “It's just some kid with a blindfold.”

A woman's voice came over the speaker and, ignoring the gruff voice, said, “SCP-1103, what can you tell us about the individuals in the room currently with you?”

Logan sighed, but as usual, complied without altercation, even if really he'd much rather be back in his cell reading a book. “I heard three separate footsteps enter the room. The one who spoke sounds to be male. I can't, however, tell you any more information unless one of them provides skin to skin contact, or I am permitted to take this blindfold off.”

There was silence that followed for about thirty seconds then the woman's voice returned. “D-Class test subjects, would you please get as close to SCP-1103 as you can without touching the SCP. SCP-1103, we implore you not to move.”

The three sets of footsteps grew closer to Logan and suddenly he was very aware of his abrupt lack of personal space. Silence followed for a full minute. The impatient rustle of clothes from the test subjects were the only sound to fill the room.

After the long minute was over, the woman asked, “SCP-1103, can you tell us any new information from the D-Class test subjects?”

“No.” Logan replied, trying not to sound short.

“Would the D-Class test subjects move back to your original positions. SCP-1103, you may remove the blindfold.”

Logan removed the blindfold and was met with three men in orange jumpsuits. The first was lanky and twitchy, the second buff and built, with many prison tattoos, and the third was just as built, however he lacked any tattoos and he had a deep scar going down the left side of his face, his eyes looked tired.

Logan need only glance at them before he knew their life stories. “The first one on my left has been arrested for possession and use of drugs. He grew up in a neglectful home and turned to selling drugs as profit to get by at only the age of thirteen. At the age of fifteen is when he started using the drugs. He is currently twenty-eight years of age.”

The man which Logan was referring to had surprise and fear written all across his face after this revelation. Logan continued.

“The one in the middle is the owner of the gruff voice I heard previously. He has lived a life of petty crime since the age of eighteen. He has been to prison fourteen times. His latest sentencing was because he robbed a liquor store. He plans on killing his ex-girlfriend for leaving him once he is freed.”

“You think you’re some kind of smart ass, huh? I'll kill you, too.” The man with the gruff voice began to cross the room but before he could reach Logan, whom remained perfectly still and calm, he was given a controlled shock and fell to the floor.

The woman's voice returned once more. “Please do not resort to violence against the SCP, or more shocks will follow. Please return to your original position.”

Logan was not fazed by the encounter, he was used to this by now. He continued on with the last man.

“The remaining gentleman is a veteran. He received the scar on his face from a bomb during his first deployment. He is an innocent man and was framed for the murder of his six year old daughter. The murderer is his older brother, out of jealousy for not being able to conceive. The murder weapon is hidden in a shoe box in the storage unit belonging to the older brother.”

The remaining man began to cry. He crossed the room as nonthreateningly as possible and held out his arm. “May I shake your hand, son?”

Logan let him. The man shook Logan's hand with both of his. Logan felt his lips twitch at a new piece of information that has cleared itself from the clutter. “Your wife is pregnant with your second child.” He told the veteran, then looked at the camera where he knew he was being watched. “I expect you will take the proper protocols to set this man free and be reunited with his family?”

“We assure you, we will. Just has been done with past innocent inmates,” The woman promised over the speaker. “Now, will the D-Class test subjects please step to the door, you will exit shortly.”

The first two headed straight to the door but the veteran shook Logan's hand one last time. “Do you have a name, son?”

“My name is Logan, sir.”

The man wiped away a tear and said, “Then I shall name my next child after you.” He turned and walked to the door as well.

Logan knew the words were coming, but it still hit him just as hard when they were said out loud. He simply told the truth, he did not think such a feat warranted having a child named after him. Nevertheless, he felt honored.

As Logan was escorted back to his containment cell, he thought about how days like this made all the boring experiments worth it.

Chapter Text

Roman gave a bow and stood up with a grand gesture of his arms. With a winning grin he said, “Thank you for coming to the show.” The three D-Class personnel he had put on a show for, stood from their chairs and applauded. The set Roman created for his play began to vanish behind him as the doors to the testing chamber opened, and three security guards walked in.

One of the guards held his gun up to Roman while the other two escorted the D-Classes out. Roman held his hands up in surrender and made sure not to flinch, however he did decide to quip with the guard while he waited. “Is that ugly gun really necessary? Does holding that gun in your hands make you feel more like a man? Because I assure you, all I see from over here is the living definition of compensating for something.”

The guard raised his gun threateningly. “Wanna say that again, punk?”

Roman remained unflinching. For all his hate towards the guards, they did frighten him. Though he did not back down. “Shoot this, ‘High important object’ and see what they’ll do to a dispensable guard like you,” He smirked. “I dare you.”

The guard did not reply but he did not lower his gun either. Roman felt triumphant.

One of the two other guards that had escorted the D-Classes out earlier returned to the testing chamber. “SCP-0604, let’s go.”

Roman finally lowered his arms. “With pleasure, a prince needs his beauty sleep after all.” He strode confidently out of the room, both guards following close behind him.

On the walk back to his containment cell, Roman kept his head up and his stride even, not a single spec of weakness radiating from his frame. He would not dare give the guards a single thing to reap from. When they reached his cell and Douche Guard Number One used his keycard to open the door, Roman turned on his heal to face them and stood straight. “Well, as always, it’s been just a pleasure keeping company with you, I do so hope that we can do this again sometime.” Then Roman turned back around and exited the hallway, just as the door automatically shut behind him.

The second the door closed Roman let his façade drop and his shoulders slump. He’d long ago timed how long it took the door to close, just so they could never respond to his parting words.

Roman leaned against the door and scanned his room, some would call it a disaster. He calls it an organized mess. He walked to his shelf and grabbed a notebook and a fresh pencil, then sat down at his desk and began to write out his latest performance. Roman closed his eyes and breathed in the stale circulated air of his concrete room, remembering, as he always does, the shows he would put on for his mother when his father was not home.

Roman’s mother clapped as Roman finished his performance, defeating the accursed Dragon Witch and saving the village.

“Bravo! Bravo!” His mother yelled. “Well done! My little prince saves the day again!”

Roman huffed indigently, “I’m a big prince, Mama.”

His mother stopped and seemed to contemplate it. Then held out her arms so she could hug him. After Roman was securely in her arms, she said, “Even if you’re 100 years old, you will always be my little prince.”

Roman seemed fascinated by this, “Do people even live ‘til 100?”

“Some people do, yes.” She replied.

That made Roman happy, he smiled and lay his head on his mom’s shoulder. “I hope you live to be even older than 100.”

Roman’s mother smiled and cradled him in her arms. “I’m so proud of the person you’re turning into. Never lose your kind heart, your smart mind, or your brave soul.”

Roman opened his eyes and smiled, feeling sadness and warmth bloom in his chest. He chose long ago not to think about what occurred just after that moment, what always happened after special moments like that, instead, Roman leaned forward and began to write.

-

The hours ticked by, but it didn’t matter to Roman anyway, he never knew what time it was. The little clock that sat on his desk ran out of battery months ago, and Roman just never got around to asking for new ones.

He must’ve been up all night though because just as he finished the last line, and closed his notebook, the door to his cell opened and two guards, different from earlier, stepped in. “SCP-0604, it’s time for breakfast.”

Roman felt exhausted, for he chose to ignore it while writing, and elected to acknowledge it only once he was done, but these two guards didn’t know that. So, Roman sat up straight, placed a twinkling smile on his face, and turned to face the guards. “Well, it’s about time.”

“Flamboyant even at the crack of dawn.” New Douche Guard Number One muttered.

Roman winked as he walked past him out the door, “You better count on it.”

When they made it to the designated, “Meal Room”, Roman walked in, gladly leaving his guards out on the other side of the door. Only Logan was there so far, Patton and Virgil always seemed to be last. As Roman took a seat beside Logan, Logan was fixing him with a deadpan stare.

While Roman grabbed some toast to put on his plate, he chose not to reciprocate Logan’s stare as he said, “I know what you’re going to say, Logan, but I just lost track of time. I will take a nap once I get back to my room.”

A beat of silence followed as Roman’s statement hung in the air, before Logan eventually sighed and grabbed a pitcher to pour some juice. “Honestly, I couldn’t care less. It’s Patton’s wrath you’ll have to face. I’m willing to hypothesize he can feel how tired you are even from his room.”

“Is that so, Specs?” Roman hummed. “Well, I’m willing to bet Patton will first insult your taste in reading material,” Next to Logan was an encyclopedia that he chose to bring with him to read while he ate. “I thought you didn’t even need to read anyway, can’t you just look at the book and know everything inside it?”

Unoffended by Roman’s insult, Logan thumbed the book open and began reading the page his bookmark was stuffed into. “That is correct, but sometimes it’s nice to just sit and read.”

Roman slumped back in his chair but didn’t get to respond because the door opened again, and Patton and Virgil arrived inside. Once the door closed, the first thing Patton did was turn to Roman, and with his best scolding face said, “Roman! Why are you so tired? Did you sleep at all?”

Roman smiled, these are the people he loved to be around.

Chapter Text

There was a sense of guilt that boiled in Picani whenever he finished a session with Virgil. Virgil was not the first SCP Picani has had as a client but he was, however, the first SCP that Doctor Picani has grown a strong attachment to. Of course every patient is important and he has cared about them all dearly, but there’s just something so indescribably sad about Virgil. Picani vowed that he would do anything to make sure he was happy and comfortable and so that’s what led him to his current meeting with a group of personnel, with level 4 clearance, much higher than his measly level 1, pleading with them to let SCP’s 1103, 0604, 0115, and 1219 share a containment cell together.

“So, that is why I believe it would be beneficial to not only all four SCP’s but research as well, to have the four of them share a containment cell together. Thank you for listening, that’s all.” Doctor Picani wrapped up his slideshow, one he had just spent the last hour presenting, and took a seat to listen to his superiors’ response.

“For a low level clearance personnel such as yourself, I have to admit, I admire your tenacity. You’ve got some real guts scheduling this meeting and coming in here,” Superior Number One said, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms, every bit of his superiority radiating off of him.

“Yes, I find myself feeling inclined to agree,” Superior Number Two nodded. She was a small, mousey woman with a receding hairline from years of being in a tight bun. “I do, however, vote to decline your request for these four enhanced individuals to share one cell. Though they may be friends, as you say, it is already too many for two of them to be sharing a cell. There are too many risks that may not be accounted for. We simply cannot take such a high risk, and that’s not to mention their daily meals together as well. We have accommodated for them enough.”

Picani felt himself falter. He had been so sure this was going to be approved. He’d been so excited that he’d already had a list of potential cells written down that would be big enough to accommodate all of them. He took a deep breath and stood his ground. “But-”

“My partner makes a good point,” Superior Number One agreed. “I understand that you care deeply for the SCP we have put under your care but I feel it inappropriate and unprofessional to approve such a large request like this and as such, I too vote to disagree.”

“If you would just hear me out,” Picani begged.

“We have made our decision,” Superior Number Two cut in. “We have heard you out, and while your request is admirable, if you keeping pleading like this, we will deem you too unprofessional to do your job and you will immediately be replaced. Now, do you have any more questions?”

Defeated and done, Picani outwardly collected himself, smoothed down his pink tie, stood up straight, and shook his head. “No, ma’am. Thank you both for your time and patience. I will be on my way now.”

Doctor Picani exited the conference room, removing the list of potential cells from the folder in his arms, and disposing it in a bin he passed in the hallway.

He wasn’t looking forward to breaking the news to Virgil.

-

Once a week Patton and Virgil had a cleaning day. They would turn on music then clean and tidy up their containment cell for a, “Refreshing, breathable, and calm environment” as Patton puts it. Both of them rather enjoy these days, it helps to clear their minds and restart the week.

While Virgil dusted the shelves, Patton stopped sweeping and began to use his broom as a microphone. “I’m walking on sunshine! Wowwww! And don’t it feel good! Hey!”

Virgil turned around to look at Patton and snorted when he saw Patton pointing straight at him.

“Don’t it feel good, Virge?” Patton asked as he ran toward Virgil to grab his hand and proceeded to spin both of them around.

Virgil held onto Patton’s hand and let him spin them, Patton laughing along and putting Virgil in a good mood. For the first time since his bad day about a week ago, Virgil truly felt calm. “It sure does Pat.” He chuckled back.

When they finished cleaning, and were tired from dancing, they sat at the table and played Candy Land to calm down. Patton was ahead of Virgil by three spaces.

“Oh!” Patton exclaimed, piping up in his seat. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.” While Virgil picked up a card and moved his character on the board, he nodded to let Patton know he was listening. “Soo,” Patton began. “I was thinking of something that I’d thought you enjoy.”

Virgil finished moving his spaces and looked up at Patton to give him his full attention.

“What if we, and by ‘we’ I mean you, me, Roman, and Logan. Well, I was thinking that we could learn sign language for you so you can join our conversations, if you feel comfortable enough, during your mute days. What do you think?”

Patton had this sort of hopeful twinkle in his eyes and Virgil knew he couldn’t refuse even if he wanted to. He smiled back. “Yeah, I like that idea, Pat.”

Patton beamed. With the conversation at hand finished, he went back to the game, picking up a card and proudly exclaiming, “I win!”

-

To cure boredom, Logan likes to write essays on the books he finishes reading. Roman once told him that writing essays for fun made him boring but Logan didn’t care. He loved analyzing the texts, finding a deeper meaning or underlying moral. Analyzing and drawing up your own conclusions, after all, wasn’t a fact. It’s not something he got to know before he even wanted to. It was all his own thoughts.

Thirteen pages of analysis on a 300 page book later, Logan finished the last of his essay and stapled together the stack. He placed it on his shelf with all of his other essays he accumulated over the years, standing back and looking on proudly at his work. In the eight or so years he’s been here, not one person has read his papers. He frowned and shook off the pride. He told himself it didn’t matter to him, he didn’t care, but he couldn’t hide the truth from himself ever, and he knew it mattered a lot.

Logan removed the thought from his head and grabbed an astronomy book from his shelf, along with a rolled up piece of paper, about a yard long, and flattened it out on the floor with two books. Another one of his projects, that he continued bit by bit to make it last, was recreating the night sky, trying to get the stars in the exact place. It was tedious, and he loved it.

Logan worked on the piece for an hour before interruption came in the form of a guard telling him it was dinner time. Yeah. Dinner sound nice. He thought, back aching from leaning forward on the floor. Logan packed up his work and followed the guard out of his room.

The guard he was following was new here. He had level one clearance but didn’t even know a passcode to a single door, just like all the other guards he’s had. Logan got a new guard every month and he knew it was because the old guards left to get a promotion after having this mind-numbing job.

In the guard’s head, Logan heard him thinking, ‘What kind of SCP is this anyway? I bet this lanky kid couldn’t run a yard without wheezing on the ground.’

Logan quirked a smile. “Perhaps you may be right,” He told the guard. “However, this lanky kid knows what you are thinking. Why do you think they told you nothing? Any other level one personnel would know something as simple as the door codes.” No matter how immature it may be, he took great joy in watching is new guard’s mouth gape.

-

Today was Boring with a capital “B”. Roman had no new people to entertain, no new ideas, and absolutely, positively nothing to do. He hung upside down on the edge of his bed and held Mrs. Fluffy Bottom out in front of him.

“Oh, what am I to do?” Roman asked the stuffed rabbit. “Days like this are just dreadful. I would even read one of Logan’s boring math books if it meant I could do something.”

He stared at the rabbit. It stared back.

“You’re right!” he piped up. “We can’t keep going on like this! There must be something for us to do!”

Roman rolled off his bed and landed purposely on the floor, jumping up to his feet then began pacing back and forth, “Think Roman think. This isn’t the first time you’ve had writers block. What did you do to get out of it before?”

Roman thought back on his day, wondering if he could get inspiration from there. Breakfast was quite uneventful, as was lunch, as was the rest of the day. He rolled around the various conversations he had and joined in on with his friends. One particular one stood out which happened during dinner time.

“So Virgil and I decided to learn sign language for when Virgil is mute! Do you guys want to join?” Patton asked, bouncing in his seat while Virgil sat shyly next to him.

“Patton, what a splendid idea!” Roman exclaimed. “I can’t believe this is something we didn’t think of sooner.”

“I, too, agree with Roman,” Logan said. “A new language would be a productive way to spend our time as well, and may even be a chance to strengthen our relationship.”

“Then it’s settled,” Patton agreed. He turned to the camera watching them, addressing it as if it were another person in the room with them. It might as well have been. “Will you please bring us four books on sign language?”

Back in the present, Roman continued to pace the room. ‘Yes,’ He thought. ‘There is a bunch of inspiration from that conversation.’

“What if…” Roman thought aloud. “What if…” He paced around the room, tapping his chin. “That’s it!” Roman ran to is shelf and immediately pulled out a notebook and a pencil, and sat at his desk, getting to work. It was a story about a mute princess trapped in a tower, never able to call for help, until one day, a wonderer, having been lost in the woods for weeks, stumbled across the tower and climbed it for shelter, finding the princess inside.

Chapter Text

The very next day Virgil had his therapy session with Doctor Picani. When he entered the room, Doctor Picani spread out him arms, provided a huge smile and exclaimed, “Good afternoon, Virgil!”

Virgil’s shoulder’s immediately deflated and he stuck his hands deep into his hoodie pocket. “Good afternoon,” He mumbled. Doctor Picani was acting more enthusiastic than normal today. The only time Doctor Picani acts more enthusiastic than normal is when he has bad news. Virgil took a seat and slouched in his chair. “So, what’s the news?”

Picani deflated his posture but kept on a small, patient smile. “Can’t fool you, huh?”

Virgil shook his head.

“Okay then, do you want the good news or the bad news first?”

Virgil mulled it over. “Bad news, I guess. Just rip off the bandage.”

Picani grabbed the stack of papers in front of him and tapped them vertically on the table so they lined up, just to have something to do with his hands. “Well, the bad news is that I pleaded your case, the one to let you and your three friends share a containment cell together. I’m really sorry, Virgil, but the request was denied.”

Virgil didn’t respond.

“I’m sorry Virgil, I tried really to-”

“What’s the good news?” Virgil interrupted.

Picani took the interruption in stride, it wasn’t unusual of Virgil to brush past the bad news. He thought that it was Virgil’s way of coping. May as well not add to the stress and all that. Picani could still see the hurt in his eyes though. He knows Virgil will still dwell on it.

Picani reached under the table and pulled out a package, wrapped in brown paper and tied with twine. “I was told to give this to you.”

Virgil accepted the package and ripped open the paper. Inside were four identical books that read, “Sign Language for Beginners”.

“Sign language?” Picani asked, intrigued.

Virgil nodded, continuing to stare down at the cover. “Pat wanted us to learn for when I’m not up for talking.”

Picani noted the way Virgil ran his hand over the cover. “He’s not forcing you to do something you’re not comfortable with, is he?”

“Patton wouldn’t do that,” Virgil answered, slumping down in his chair, making himself smaller. “He asked if I was okay with it. I am.” He mumbled.

Picani took notes on Virgil’s rapid change in behavior. “Then why do you seem uncomfortable all of the sudden?”

Virgil sighed, eyes shifting to the right and staring at the floor. “I just… I like Pat’s idea. Just…”

“Just what?”

“They shouldn’t have to do all of this for me. It’s too much. I really appreciate it but what have I ever done for them?”

Patton would say Virgil is always there for him in return. Roman would say he enjoys having someone else who has the same quick wit as him. Logan would say he enjoys how calm Virgil is compared to the other two. If Virgil were to be told these things, he would not believe them.

Virgil did not believe Doctor Picani’s very reasonable answer either. He left therapy wanting to go back to bed.

-

When Logan watched Virgil enter their room for lunch with the weight of his world on his mind and books in his arms, Logan thought it best to mention the books and leave Virgil to his thoughts, at least until Virgil spoke up about it.

“Ah, you received the books, I see,” Logan said, making light conversation.

Roman clapped his hands together excitedly, “Oh, it’s about time! I simply couldn’t wait any longer!”

“You only waited one day.” Logan stated.

“One day too long!”

Patton and Virgil took their seats and Virgil quietly handed out the books. “Okay,” Patton said while settling in. “Logan, I know you like to teach, will you be our teacher?”

Patton had this knowing smile on his face, proven correct when Logan’s eyes lit up. “Yes, I find that will be the best solution,” Logan agreed, regaining his composure. “If you will all open up your books to the first page, then we can get started.”

The four friends ate lunch while learning finger spelling. Once, Roman chose to take a bite and chew while he practiced at the same time.

“You can eat or you can practice, but you cannot do both.” Logan scolded.

Roman scowled at him, “And why is that?”

“Because,” Logan replied, just as short with Roman as Roman was with him. “If you chew while trying to memorize a sign, chewing will be a part of your muscle memory for that sign.”

“I never thought of that!” Patton piped up, defusing a pointless argument before it began. “I was about to do the same thing too, Roman. Logan, does it say that in the book?”

Virgil, who had been sitting quietly the whole time, couldn’t help but smirk at how Patton could so easily calm the both of them down, making sure it didn’t sound like he was taking any of their sides.

“It does not,” Logan answered. “It is simply a fact I know.”

“Well, maybe we should take a break for now anyway. Memorizing facts is much more difficult for me than memorizing fiction.” Roman closed his book and set it in his lap, opting to pick up his food and finish his lunch.

Logan and Patton followed suit so Virgil did the same. “Yes, I suppose a break in in order. After all, individuals which are not me need time to learn a new subject.” Logan began to place food on is plate, something he hadn’t done yet at all.

Patton happily munched on his sandwich while he made conversation. “I’m just so happy we’re learning this! You know, when I was in second grade, I had a girl in my class who was deaf. She had an interpreter, and I was so amazed at how she knew this cool language that I’d never heard of before then! I begged my parents to sign me up for classes but they couldn’t afford it at the time. By the time we could afford it when my dad got a promotion a year later, she’d already moved away.” Patton pondered on this memory for a moment before continuing. “I’m glad I get to learn it now though, and with the people I care about! It’s all thanks to you, Virge!”

Patton looked over to Virgil but Virgil wasn’t paying attention. He was instead slumped down in his seat, hood up, poking at his food.

Sometimes Logan wished he could proudly state what someone else was thinking. Virgil glanced up at him. Logan stared back.

-

For the next two weeks the four friends continued to learn sign language.

For the next two weeks Virgil was plagued with nightmares.

For the next two weeks he kept it to himself.

Virgil didn’t even recognize the faces in his dreams anymore. He just knew that there were ropes around their necks because of him. Virgil tried to run away. However, whenever he opened a door, he found more bodies hung from the ceiling. Virgil tried to scream. However, whenever he tried, he would not hear his voice. Instead, he heard the ringing sound of a gunshot, followed by another body dropping dead in front of him, gun appearing into view next to them and clattering to the ground.

For the next two weeks, Virgil woke up early, locked himself in the bathroom, had his panic attacks in there as quietly as he could, and curled back into bed until Patton woke him up.

Patton knew about every nightmare, every bathroom panic attack, and all the sleepless mornings. Virgil has been like this before, but always managed to pull himself out of it. So, Patton grew truly worried when Virgil didn’t feel even a little lighter like he usually does after his therapy session after the first week of this.

He decided he would have to try even harder to make sure Virgil felt better.

This would later prove to be more difficult than anticipated.

Chapter Text

Item #: SCP-0203

Object Class: Euclid Keter

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-0203 is currently kept in a 5m x 5m room with an attached bathroom completed with shower and bathtub. The room contains a full sized bed with a nightstand, two (2) bookshelves containing books about philosophy, a TV with a DVD player, one (1) love seat, and a wardrobe. SCP-0203 may request new material provided it be reviewed beforehand. SCP-0203 is allowed to wear whatever wardrobe he may choose.

Video surveillance is required in SCP-0203's containment cell at all times however audio surveillance is strictly prohibited and as such, none of the surveillance cameras are to be equipped with audio functions.

SCP-0203 is NOT permitted to leave his containment cell.

Description: DO NOT LET YOURSELF HEAR SCP-0203'S VOICE UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES.

SCP-0203 is a young male, aged 3 upon arrival, however ages like a regular human. SCP-0203 has been contained within the SCP organization for 14 years and is currently 17 years of age. SCP-0203 is 5’7” and 125lbs in weight. Subject has blond hair and heterocromia. SCP-0203’s left eye is brown and right eye is yellow. However, SCP-0203's most distinctive feature is the snake scales that adorn the right side of his face. It’s worth mentioning that the subject’s yellow eye is that of a snake’s eye.

SCP-0203 has the ability to influence the actions and thoughts of any living creature using his voice. The influence of his voice can be transmitted through audio equipment as well. SCP-0203 can determine the length of the influence. It can last from one second, up to the victim’s whole life.

SCP-0203 was found by an SCP personnel by accident while said personnel was off the clock. While personnel [Redacted] was walking her dog, SCP-0203 walked up to her at a crosswalk. When the personnel crouched to ask the SCP where his parents were and if he needed medical attention (due the SCP's facial anomaly), SCP-0203 demanded that the personnel give him her dog. The direct quote was as follows, “Why do you have my dog? Give it to me!” (It is worth mentioning that the dog in question was and is the property of the SCP personnel in this scenario.) The SCP personnel then genuinely believed that her dog belonged to SCP-0203 and as such, gave her dog to the subject. When personnel [Redacted] arrived home, she remembered that the dog belonged to her. Personnel [Redacted] called the agency about the incident and requested a team be sent out to collect the specimen. The SCP foundation was able to find SCP-0203 because the dog which he took had a tracker on its collar.

SCP-0203 has taken up sign language to communicate. Before learning sign language, the foundation brought in an expert lip reader to communicate with the SCP.

For the first five (5) years of SCP-0203's residence in the foundation, the SCP was completely unresponsive to any tests or instructions. Only after Incident-0203-A, did the SCP finally open up to personnel. SCP-0203 expressed loneliness and a growing loathing of his own abilities. He expressed that it was isolating and he just wanted a friend, one his own age.

Despite opening up, SCP-0203 has not reveled his past nor his real name. Personnel have began to refer to SCP-0203 as “Deceit". This nickname is NOT to be used in reference to the SCP in any official document. One previous mix-up was enough.

On multiple occasions, the SCP has requested the severing of his own vocal cords so that he may leave the facility. Request pending. Request denied. SCP-0203's facial anomalous properties are warrant to keep the SCP in the foundation even if procedure on vocal cords are executed.

Repeat request of procedure to sever SCP-0203’s vocal cords so that SCP may be acquainted with other SCP's. Request pending.

Incident-0203-A: Five (5) years after SCP-0203 arrived at the foundation, personnel began to grow desperate in response to SCP-0203's unresponsive behavior. In an act that was not approved by higher ups, personnel [Redacted] entered SCP-0203’s containment cell. Immediately upon entering, SCP-0203 instructed the personnel to take him out of the facility. Direct quote is as follows, “I don’t belong here. Take me out of this building.”

With the help from personnel [Redacted], SCP-0203 made it all the way to the entrance of the SCP facility before he was collected by MTF, whom was wearing proper noise canceling gear.

Following the containment breach, personnel [Redacted] was terminated, SCP-0203's class was changed from Euclid to Keter, and the locks on SCP-0203's containment cell was leveled up to O5 clearance only.