SCP: North Star: Beyond the Depths

Chapter 2: Foreigners

He didn't remember if he had dreamt or not. All Black remembered was being ripped back into consciousness by a searing pain in his temple. He shot up into a sitting position, clutching his head.

The hell? He thought. What happened?

He tried thinking back, but it was difficult remembering right now.

I was deployed up north. Canada, that's it. And we were dealing with some kind of creatures. The only thing I can recall is them being really big. Then we went down into a cave, where we engaged a bigger creature. Evans ended up...

The memories crashed into him like a tidal wave. All at once, he remembered everything. The cave, the spider, Omega-7... and the pool.

Shit.

Black opened his eyes, much to his head's protest. The room he was in was longer than it was wide. It was dark, with the only light being some kind of cylinder on the ceiling that dully emitted a blue tint. The floor and walls seemed to be made of dark metal, thought he had no idea what.

He looked down, and noticed that he was laying on a bed. The legs and frame were thin, and the slats were thick enough to trick Black into thinking it was a full bottom. It reminded him of a bed you'd find at a mental ward. There was also no pillow or blanket.

The entire room suddenly rocked, as if he was in the back of a truck that just hit a pothole. The movement went right into Black's gut, making him queasy. That queasiness turned into full on nausea as he felt a warm substance make its way up his throat.

Black reached up to remove his helmet, only to find it wasn't there. Leaning over the bed, he emptied the contents of his stomach. Cold sweat ran down his face as he spat to get the bitter taste out of his mouth. He laid back down on his 'bed,' again grabbing his temple.

It wasn't just his head that was hurting. Every part of him felt... off. As if he was in the middle of a particularly nasty flu. Black shivered as he realized how cold he was. He tried warming up by hugging himself, but all attempts to heat up seemed to make him colder.

Black laid there in a fever-like state. His mind saw incoherent colors and images that couldn't even begin to be described. All he could do was lay there, feeling the slight rocking of the room and listening to the muttering sound.

Wait...

Someone was faintly whispering. Was it in his head? Black decided to open his eyes and force himself to look around one more time. That's when he noticed something he missed before.

Laying across from him on an identical bed was SCP-105. Its back was to him, but Black could tell it was curled into a ball, hugging itself.

"105?" He called out weakly. His stomach turned as he spoke, threating to empty itself again. Perhaps it was better to keep quiet. Black grabbed the bedframe and slowly swung his legs over the side.

Getting to his feet was hard, staying on them was even harder. He wobbled as his legs threatened to give out from under him. After staying still to gain balance, Black took a step forward. A shaky, unstable step, but a step.

Then he took another step. Then another. Then another. Then-

The room violently shook again, and he fell on his left shoulder. Black let out a gasp as his head and stomach swam, and his joints and muscles ached. Breathing became a chore as he tried to recollect himself.

He looked up at 105. The jolt must've cause it to roll over some, as it was now partially facing him. Black was able to get a good look at it.

Its eyes were closed, and its face was in a pained expression. Sweat was pouring down its sickly green face. It was clearly both unconscious and ill. By the looks of it, far iller than he was. Despite this, its mouth was moving, if subtilty, whispering something Black couldn't make out.