No Choice | Peter Ballard x Reader

Check Up

You wake up to the sound of your alarm. The clocks in the Hawkins facility are never really your favorite, and you're guessing that it never will be. Its blaring and insensitive tone always tends to deafen your ears every morning. You wonder if you'll ever truly adjust to waking up with the intense noise. Nonetheless, no matter how much you really don't want to work, you still get ready.

Your uniform is cleanly hung up on your door, and you don't waste time to change into it. 

When you get to the infirmary, your mind starts to wander. Each and every day you wake up, you've always followed this cycle. In all honesty, you don't know how long it'll take before you get so sick of this routine. Your life is filled with constant repetitiveness that you wonder how you're even happy with your life.

"Ms. Y/n?"

You turn around to see Dr. Brenner. His face would protrude extreme serenity if it weren't for his furrowed eyebrows. They make him look like he's worried, deep in thought, like a man that's unable to find peace within himself. 

"Yes, Dr. Brenner? Is there anything that you need?"

Dr. Brenner takes a couple seconds to rethink his response. You guess that he's trying to find a kinder and better wording for what he's about to say. 

"Just a reminder that I will be having a group lesson today, and some children might be hurt in the process. I'm sorry for the inconvenience, but after the lesson, there will be a check up," he states.

You hold back an audible groan. You really didn't feel like taking care of kids today.

"That's no inconvenience at all, sir. Thank you for the reminder."

Dr. Brenner is quick to leave the room, leaving you in your lonesome.

You turn around to take in the sights of your room: two gatch beds, cabinets filled to the brim with medicine, and the damn ticking clock. You rethink Brenner's words again. A group session will most likely result in nosebleeds, so you go and grab an exact number of wipes. You sigh, knowing that this day might be more tiring than you thought.

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It is no later than two in the afternoon that the first child comes in.

It's 008.

You guess that they aren't going in numerical order as the young child, no older than 10, steps into the room.

"Hello, Eight, do you feel anything out of the norm?"

And so the check ups begin. One after the other. There are a few you had to wipe the blood off, their philtrums, and there were some that complained about 002 throwing them too hard against the wall. You give a concussion test to each one, and fortunately, for you, no child seems to have one. You continue with each check up, and you find it suspiciously weird that none of the oldest ones have come through yet. You just get done with your 5th check up when 011 enters the infirmary.

You give 011 a kind smile and ask the same question that you've asked the past five visits. She says that she feels completely fine and walks closer to you, allowing you easy access to wipe the blood of her philtrum. 

"You wanna know something, Y/n??" 011 asks, excitement and pride fill her eyes. You don't get to see that often, so the sight inevitably makes you smile.

"Sure do, Eleven."

"I was up against Two, and we had to use our powers to knock each other out of the circle. I was the last one because Two defeated everyone else, but then I somehow won, Y/n!"

Your shock is apparent in your face. You've always heard how 011 struggled the most with her powers from Peter or Dr. Brenner, so hearing Eleven's victory makes your heart feel complete and utter happiness for the young girl.

"Not only that, but I get one more hour of playtime in the Rainbow Room!" 

You finish up cleaning the blood off as you congratulate and tell her how proud you are of her. She then quickly scurries off to, what you assume is, the Rainbow Room.

After 011, each check up resumes to the same answer from each child. You are almost done, and you notice an odd pattern nearing the end of your check ups. It seems as though the last four are going to be the older children, and your assumption is right when the last visitor, 002, walks in with a scowl on his face.

You ask him if he feels anything out of the norm, and he just snarly responds that his head hurts. You really don't like 002. Every time he's come to visit, he's been extremely arrogant, boasting about how successful his portion of the lesson was, so as soon as 002 came in with the dirty look on his face, you knew something was up.

You clean the blood off his philtrum, staying silent. It's quiet in the room until he decides to speak up.

"Eleven beat me."

You get done wiping the blood off and go to look at the back of his head.

"I can't believe she just shamed me in front of Papà like that."

Luckily, his head did not have a physical mark nor wound.

"Pathetic, weak, little Eleven beat me. Can you believe that!?" he spat.

You finish his check up quick, advising him to cool his mind. 002 only responds with a scoff and gets up, leaving the room with the following comment:

"She'll pay for what she's done to me."

Worried.

You are extremely worried about 011 and hope that nothing bad happens to her, but you're sure that 002 will get caught if he does anything. That's what the cameras are for, right? 

A couple minutes pass by, and you're cleaning the used gatch beds when all of a sudden a body is dragged into the infirmary.

You gasp, seeing the body's dirty blond hair.

"Peter!"

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971 words.