Orange Bleeding Into Black

Chapter 1

Jack didn't know if he could call himself a good person anymore.

'Just' was also a stretch. Sure, when he had first joined this facility all those years ago he believed it was for the good of humanity, a noble pursuit of the truth and to protect the world. 'Secure. Contain. Protect' and all that. His wife, Bella, had even left him after a time. Too many days of having an empty bed, of leaving out leftovers and wondering if he would ever come home. Perhaps she thought he was cheating on her, going off to some unknown twenty something's house. Jack never really corrected her, he could never tell her what he was 'actually' doing for a job after all.

Being one of the leading research Doctors in the SCP foundation Baltimore site wasn't exactly something he could even go about explaining without sounding like a crazy old man.

He didn't blame her when she finally had enough. Telling himself it was 'for the best'. But now, that curiosity has been poisoned with the weariness that comes with old age... He wished he had left with her. That they had gone somewhere far away from this facility in the middle of nowhere and taken her on that trip around the world like she had wanted.

They still kept in touch after that for decades, then she died, and his work had finally swallowed him whole.

Too late for me to have my life back now... I should have just joined the FBI when I graduated like I wanted too...

Still, he wasn't evil, he WAS actively saving the world several times a day from the things he swore to contain. But even then, he felt he had lived long enough to be allowed to doubt if all this was even worth it anymore, if the world was simply a ticking time bomb that was doomed from the start.

After everything he'd seen, after all the people he had sacrificed for the notion of scientific progress, of saving the world at large... He wasn't so sure they all even could keep on like this anymore.

No, We're here so everyday people can continue on with their lives, no matter how miserable or horrifying it may be... the fact they live to see the world of tomorrow is enough of a reward to keep fighting dirty.

Jack sighed, mulling his horrible life choices over in his head as he walked down the all too familiar concrete hallway. He had walked this route dozens, if not hundreds of times over the years. And yet, the lights overhead still buzzed loud enough to give him a headache, the walls were as bleak as they had always been, and the air still smelled of stale cleaning products.

The least they could do is at least put a picture up or something. But heaven forbid anyone actually ask for something like that around here... It would be seen as a waste of time, if anything they'll get sent for a psych eval to check for depression. No one wants something like that on their record, especially me.

As bleak as the hallway was, it wasn't empty. Several researchers stood idle in various places and door openings, chatting to their colleagues or taking sips of their covered beverages. But all would stop at whatever they were doing once they noticed 'him' coming towards them, likely to appear at least somewhat professional or fearful he would reprimand something about their uniforms like he had many times in the past. Backs stood taller, throats were cleared, hair was smoothed and feet scurried quickly out of his way.

He ignored them of course, even when they whispered to each other about him once they felt he was out of earshot.

You don't become head Doctor of the SCP Facility without earning a reputation for yourself.

Let them whisper, it's all those sorry shits are good for half the time when they're not filing their research reports.

Doctor Crawford was truly the best at what he did in this line of work, so much so that he had come to lose any and all respect for those considered his underlings. They would always let their guards down around the SCP's, miss research deadlines, or have empathy for the D class they leave at the mercy of the very monsters they swore to protect the world from.