This was also requested by @kayla12375! enjoy!!
Interview after interview, the Foundation unraveled the intricate layers of SCP-049, the enigmatic Plague Doctor, and it was all thanks to Dr. Y/N. A creature shrouded in mystery, SCP-049 was finally beginning to make sense—his obsession with curing a long-dead disease now painted in shades of sorrow and desperation rather than madness.
But today, the air was heavy with tension.
"I demand to see Dr. Y/N!" The Plague Doctor's voice echoed through the sterile corridors, laced with frustration and anguish. "The matter is of the utmost importance. You must grant me this request!"
Hatred brewed in him for this cold, unfeeling place. Once, he had believed the Foundation to be a sanctuary—a beacon of understanding for his life's work. But they had dismissed his efforts, halting decades of progress, and now they dared to deny him access to the one person who truly listened.
Through the observation window, the security guard barely glanced at the masked figure. "Dr. Y/N is busy, 049. How many times do I have to repeat myself?" His tone was dismissive, a flicker of annoyance crossing his face.
Unbeknownst to him, Y/N herself stood behind him, her eyes narrowing. She'd overheard every word. Clearing her throat, she shot the guard a withering look.
"Dr. Y/N," the guard stammered, nervous now. "Oh, you just got here, right?"
Y/N raised an unimpressed brow and scribbled in her notebook before holding it up:
"I heard everything. Now, let me see him."
The guard sighed, reluctant but unable to refuse. “Fine, go ahead.”
As Y/N stepped into the room, the tense atmosphere softened. SCP-049 rose from his chair, his rigid posture easing at the sight of her.
"My dear Dr. Y/N," he greeted, his tone noticeably lighter. "You’ve once again managed to convince the Foundation to allow you here without their infernal supervision. Truly remarkable."
Y/N chuckled silently, scribbling a quick reply:
"It’s not as hard as you think. They’ll agree to anything that benefits them."
"Wise as ever," he murmured, though his voice carried an undertone of melancholy.
Y/N handed him her notebook, her expression curious.
"You called for me. Is something wrong?"
The Plague Doctor hesitated, his gloved hands gripping the notebook. For a moment, he simply gazed at her, an unspoken weight pressing on his chest. "Do you ever wish," he began slowly, "that you could wake up one day and speak? To have a voice, even just once?"
The question lingered in the air, raw and heavy. Y/N’s eyes widened, and she nodded faintly, her lips pressing into a thin line.
049 read her response aloud, his voice softening:
"I could never have a voice. It’s a dream too big to come true. But it would be… nice."
The words tugged at him, igniting a pang of sorrow. Before he could reply, Y/N excused herself, pointing to the clock—her duties called her away. He watched her leave, her absence carving a hollow ache in his chest.
"A dream too big," he murmured to himself, staring at the closed door.
Time passed, and the days stretched on without her. SCP-049 buried himself in his notes, the silence of his containment chamber more oppressive than usual. But then, the sound of the door opening pulled him from his thoughts.
"Y/N," he said, relief washing over him as he turned to see her. "My dear, where have you been?"
She avoided his gaze, guilt shadowing her features. She scribbled quickly:
"I’m sorry. I tried to visit, but I was caught up with so many things…"
049 frowned, sensing there was more to her absence. "Are you unwell?" he asked gently, tilting her chin up to meet his gaze.
The touch sent a spark through her, and her cheeks flushed. Her heart pounded as his gloved hand lingered for a moment too long. Then, as if drawn by a force neither could resist, he leaned in, his lips brushing hers in a fleeting, hesitant kiss.
Realizing what he’d done, he stepped back abruptly, his voice faltering. "I… I apologize, my dear. That was uncalled for. If you wish to leave, I will not stop you."
But Y/N didn’t move. Instead, she reached for his hand, her grip firm yet tender. She shook her head, her eyes shimmering with unspoken emotion.
Before he could react, she stepped closer and wrapped her arms around him in a gentle embrace. 049 stood still, momentarily stunned, before his hands rested lightly on her back, his resolve softening.
For the first time in a long while, the Plague Doctor felt something beyond his ceaseless quest for the cure—something warm, something undeniably human.
And in that moment, words were unnecessary.
Tweaked the shit out of this one..hope its good
