SCP oneshots

11 | 049 & Dr. Hamm | Could You Keep A Secret?

Dr. Raymond Hamm sighed. Yet again, there was no luck in translating the Good Doctor's chicken scratch. The Plague Doctor looked over to take a glance, slightly amused at how these supposedly "smart" scientists couldn't read a simple journal.

He knew full well that his handwriting was utter shit, but hey, that's a quality of a good doctor, right?

Help.

Raymond raked his hands through his greying hair. It was utterly frustrating, how to understand this so-called "Pestilence". There was no pattern. There were no symptoms, or at least any visible to the naked eye. And he could very well be next on the Doctor's hit list.

His colleagues had already brushed off the theory of the Pestilence actually existing, charting it up to 049 being a serial killer, or a delusional man who needs immediate psychiatric help. But not Raymond Hamm. He persisted. There has to be at least something behind this, right? He's never seen someone so utterly dedicated to a cause for their entire life, let alone an, as far as he knew, immortal entity.

Then again, he could be going crazy himself. He works for the SCP Foundation, after all. Always trying to find reason in the unreasonable.

"I see you have no luck in understanding my findings."

The distressed researcher looked up, his eyes meeting that of the Plague Doctor. He could've sworn he was smiling under that mask, despite knowing full well that it was part of his face. "I see that you take great amusement at watching us struggle to read this. I assume you're not going to help me read it? If the Pestilence is so life-threatening... you should make your research easily available, no?"

A metallic chuckle echoed throughout the containment chamber, sending a shiver down the Head Researcher's spine. "It's funny to watch you try. Besides, if you're so intelligent, you should be able to figure it out." "You bastard."

The Doctor returns to his work, as Raymond watched on. 049 proceeded to pull out a kidney from his latest patient. A 46 year old female, convicted of child abuse and first degree murder. Most of who he deemed infected were the D-Class, specifically those who were roped in from death row.

Maybe that has to do with the Pestilence?

Dr. Hamm made a small note on his clipboard, and flipped to the next page of the Doctor's journal. Dried blood stained every page - he was quick to learn that SCP-049 was not exactly the cleanest surgeon. Something will always get stained with blood, and it's not just the Doctor himself and his tools.

His eyes were quickly drawn to the page on the right, brightly-coloured crayons covering the doctor's precious research. It wasn't as if the plague doctor used crayons when he ran out of pens, but... they're all drawings. Childish drawings, compared to the doctor's artistic hand.

His heart skipped a beat. Does he...?

He looks over at the Plague Doctor, who was still completely absorbed in his surgery. It can't be... for the entire time he had been in containment, he never grew too attached to any researchers and never mentioned ever having a family. He and 035 were exceptions to this, though, 035 being his highly unexpected lover, and Raymond being 049's closest thing to a friend in the Foundation. Hell, he was denying having a friendship with the Doctor.

He shook his head. People can be careless, and how different is 049, really? Maybe he left the journal somewhere and a child got ahold of the book. He flipped through page after page of vandalised research after vandalised research.

He froze mid-flip.

There was a crude drawing, in a similar style to the previous pages that were vandalised. He could make out a plague doctor - undeniably SCP-049 - in the center of the page, covering the Doctor's precious findings.