[The Lone Outsider] 12 – One discussion you should not interrupt

"Now that you've calmed down, how about we talk?" I suggested, gesturing over to the chair next to me, one of the few intact ones left in the room.

Seemingly not exhausted, he walked over the shards of glass, wood, and metal before stopping beside me, his gaze not once leaving or moving from me.

"We are civilized, are we not? Why don't we talk? I'll answer any questions you may have, and in return, I hope you will answer some of mine. An...exchange of knowledge," I suggested.

"Fine. An exchange, I can agree to that," The Doctor told me before getting up and walking over to a wine cabinet with its doors hanging off their hinges and grabbing a bottle.

Looking over it, I noticed a French label, something I couldn't exactly read.

Grabbing two glasses, he walked back over to me and sat down.

His piercing gaze never left me.

I gave him a friendly smile as he poured us some wine.

Once he placed the glass down on the table, I cautiously grabbed it, swirling it around before I gave it a whiff, noting a particular smell. That smell was, once again, none other than the smell of Lavender.

"I think you may be obsessed," I commented to the Doctor before taking a sip, noting that the wine was sweeter and tamer than I was expecting.

Humming, the Doctor spoke up, "I...apologize for losing my temper," I raised my hand, stopping him from speaking further, "I understand your plight. To be honest, that's why I am here. It is my hope that I can understand the Pestilence and, if possible, help you finally cure it."

"Ah, are you a man of science?" The Doctor asked.

I chuckled, "Not quite, but I am a quick learner if you are willing to take a new student."

He sat in silence for a few moments before commenting, "I see...well, with your supposed immunity to the Pestilence would make you a better candidate than most, I'm afraid I cannot trust you until I know exactly what you are, and what your intentions are."

"Ah, I-" Suddenly, the door to the cell opened up, and four guards entered.

The intercom then buzzed on, "Sorry for interrupting your...conversation, but I am afraid that we must insist you return to your cell SCP-3539," The voice of whoever was in the observation room behind the 1-way mirror ordered.

Instantly, the Doctor seemed to be angered again.

Sighing, I raised my hands in defeat.

"Listen, I'd rather not be the reason four new souls end up in my Afterlife. So, I'll go with you so that you can repair the furniture in this room. However, I want you all to know that I could have just ignored you all and let the Doctor kill you; keep that in mind," I stated with a cold expression to show my displeasure.

Getting up from the chair, I walked over to the Guards, waving goodbye to the Doctor before stating, "I'll see you later, 049. Thanks for the wine. I hope we will have a wonderful partnership in the future."

Stopping in front of the Guards, I stated, "Let's go. It's best we not test the good doctor's patience, as we are, after all, intruding."

Remaining Stoic, two of the Guards turned around and walked out the door, while the other two stepped behind me, forcing me to go forward, but I didn't say anything towards their force, as the Good Doctor may very well go berserk again.

Once we were out in the hall, the door closed behind us, and once we were out of the corridor, I was slightly surprised to find a whole other group of Guards waiting for us, along with that unknown scientist I spoke to before, for my second interview.

Noting an awkward silence, I spoke up, breaking the silence, "So...is 3539 my assigned number?"

"Yes," The old scientist confirmed stoically.

"I see. If I didn't know better, I would have been offended, thinking you all think of me as an object, but no. That's just the way you guys run things, always assigning anomalous objects, items, and entities such a number," I noted, though they seemed to be slightly surprised by the amount of information I knew.

"May I ask why you harmed one of our personnel?" The elderly scientist asked, much to my confusion.

"Harmed? All I did was give him some much-needed rest. It was quite clear he was exhausted and dead on his feet," I stated, not liking the accusation.

"Then why is he in a coma-like state?" The elderly scientist retorted.

Not bothering to hide my confusion, I asked, "You are unable to wake him up?"

"No. Nothing we have tried seems to work. He has remained unconscious since whatever you did to him, and his brain shows signs of a tremendous amount of activity for someone that should be 'asleep,'" The elderly scientist quoted, using my own words against me.

Confused, I asked, "May I see him? Perhaps I can wake him up from his sleep," I suggested.

He seemed to think about it before nodding.

"We can do that, however, only if under observation and if whatever method you use is fully examined," the scientist offered.

"Sure, though I currently don't know how I can help the man," I informed the Scientist with a shrug.

...

Meanwhile, in 049's room, the Doctor glared at all of the D-Class cleaning his cell of the damage from his previous outburst.

His anger only continued to grow as these so-called 'Men of Science' continued to prevent and slow down the Doctor from doing his very much necessary research.

And now they take away a potential student who was also seemingly immune to the Pestilence?

He could not stand it.

Having enough with this 'Foundation,' the Doctor decided that perhaps it best if he looked for new horizons, as these so-called 'Men Of Science' clearly did not understand the importance of his mission of clearing the Pestilence.

Suddenly, the Doctor walked forward, grabbing the shoulder of one of the D-Class, who instantly dropped dead.

Hearing the noise, the other D-Class turned around and gasped at the scene of 049 standing over the corpse of their fellow D-Class.

Screaming, the D-Class ran for the closed door and began banging on it, screaming for help.

Sadly for them, help would not arrive on time to save them.

One by one, the other D-Class dropped dead.

Propping the corpses up on a table, 049 grabbed his medical bag and began rifling through it for some tools.

Pulling out a syringe filled with an unknown liquid, a bone saw, and a scalpel, the doctor got to work.

Within minutes, all four of the D-Class were reanimated and 'cured' of the Pestilence.

A cure that the doctor found to be lacking and useless, as the shambling corpses left from his cure were nothing but puppets that would expire within a few days.

With one command, the reanimated corpses of the D-Class began slamming into the door and the mirror, attempting to break through them.

With seemingly supernatural strength, the corpse's fists left dents within the metal door with each hit, and seeing the progress, the Doctor had all four of his puppets focus on that door.

By God, he would soon finally find the true cure for the Pestilence, and none of these men were going to get in his way.