Love Beyond Containment (Dr.Buck x Male SCP reader)

The '8812' Paradox

Deep in the bowels of Site 37 lay a cement corridor lit by cheap yellow bulbs. At the end of the corridor was a single metal door, a card reader on the side level with the handle.

The lovecraftian humanoid walked to the door with the Director's key card in hand. Behind him three young girls watched as he swiped the card through the reader.

*Beep*

Y/N: Wait... Do I...?

1764-1: Are you holding it backwards?

Y/n spins the card in the hand and tries again, his lack of technical aptitude shining through.

*Beep*

1765-2: Did you flip it the right way?

Y/N: What is the right way?

1765-3: Blackstrip.

Y/N: The fuck is a black strip?

1765-1: There is a black strip on the card's reverse side.

*Ping*

Third time the charm as there was a loud click and the door became usable.

Inside there was rows of chest high filing cabinets. The old and most likely outdated articles and research documents left behind by Site 37 predecessors.

- [ Meanwhile across the Sea ] -

Amelia: No I can handle the paperwork, have the safety parameters around 490 raised though... And the family?... Yes... Yes... Alright, thank you.

Amelia hung up the phone as she passed the now deceased researchers paperwork into the assigned bin. She sat back in her chair and attempted to take a drink from her mug to find an absence of coffee.

She took a breath and began the march to the break room. The moment she stepped out into the hall she could hear nothing, a silence.

It was an abnormal amount of silence for the foundation, the pristine white halls unoccupied besides herself.

Amelia pushed the oddity aside and continued her trek while listening to the sound of her footsteps against the tiles.

She rounded the corner and flicked the lights on and-

Staff: SURPRISE!

Molly, Lawrence, Zolgamax and other staff members are gathered to celebrate Amelia's anniversary. One of the longest standing staff on the foundation registry for Site 19, weather that be a celebration or reason to mourn is still undecided.

Amelia nearly dropped her mug when she entered. When she realized what was happening her face showed a deep hatred for everyone in the room but then shifted to a melancholy acceptance.

Molly didn't have to say a word, her face said it all as she knew Amelia would hate this.

Otherwise the small festivities began, Amelia approached Molly and the two looked out over the gathering.

Molly: You hate it.

Amelia: Obviously.

Molly: Well you are senior staff.