Summary: Roman acts, and writes, and thinks, and appreciates
Warnings: Guns, Implied abuse
Notes: This particular chapter is Roman centric but not all the chapters will be. The first few will be a certain side centric just to get into their head a little bit more. Once the story starts to pick up it will be multiple centric. It will all be pretty even.
Roman gave a bow and stood up with a grand gesture of his arms. With a winning grin he said, “Thank you for coming to the show.” The three D-Class personnel he had put on a show for stood from their chairs and applauded. The set Roman created for his play began to vanish behind him as the doors to the testing chamber opened, and three security guards walked in.
One of the guards held his gun up to Roman while the other two escorted the D-Classes out. Roman held his hands up in surrender and made sure not to flinch, however he did decide to quip with the guard while he waited. “Is that ugly gun really necessary? Does holding that gun in your hands make you feel more like a man? Because I assure you, all I see from over here is the living definition of compensating for something.”
The guard raised his gun threateningly. “Wanna say that again, punk?”
Roman remained unflinching. For all his hate towards the guards, they did frighten him. Though he did not back down. “Shoot this, ‘High important object’ and see what they’ll do to a dispensable guard like you,” He smirked. “I dare you.”
The guard did not reply but he did not lower his gun either. Roman felt triumphant.
One of the two other guards that had escorted the D-Classes out earlier returned to the testing chamber. “SCP-0604, let’s go.”
Roman finally lowered his arms. “With pleasure, a prince needs his beauty sleep after all.” He strode confidently out of the room, both guards following close behind him.
On the walk back to his containment cell, Roman kept his head up and his stride even, not a single spec of weakness radiating from his frame. He would not dare give the guards a single thing to reap from. When they reached his cell and Douche Guard Number One used his keycard to open the door, Roman turned on his heal to face them and stood straight. “Well, as always, it’s been just a pleasure keeping company with you, I do so hope that we can do this again sometime.” Then Roman turned back around and exited the hallway, just as the door automatically shut behind him.
The second the door closed Roman let his façade drop and his shoulders slump. He’d long ago timed how long it took the door to close, just so they could never respond to his parting words.
Roman leaned against the door and scanned his room, some would call it a disaster. He calls it an organized mess. He walked to his shelf and grabbed a notebook and a fresh pencil, then sat down at his desk and began to write out his latest performance. Roman closed his eyes and breathed in the stale circulated air of his concrete room, remembering, as he always does, the shows he would put on for his mother when his father was not home.
Roman’s mother clapped as Roman finished his performance, defeating the accursed Dragon Witch and saving the village.
“Bravo! Bravo!” His mother yelled. “Well done! My little prince saves the day again!”
Roman huffed indigently, “I’m a big prince, Mama.”
His mother stopped and seemed to contemplate it. Then held out her arms so she could hug him. After Roman was securely in her arms, she said, “Even if you’re 100 years old, you will always be my little prince.”
Roman seemed fascinated by this, “Do people even live ‘til 100?”
“Some people do, yes.” She replied.
That made Roman happy, he smiled and lay his head on his mom’s shoulder. “I hope you live to be even older than 100.”
Roman’s mother smiled and cradled him in her arms. “I’m so proud of the person you’re turning into. Never lose your kind heart, your smart mind, or your brave soul.”
Roman opened his eyes and smiled, feeling sadness and warmth bloom in his chest. He chose long ago not to think about what occurred just after that moment, what always happened after special moments like that, instead, Roman leaned forward and began to write.
The hours ticked by, but it didn’t matter to Roman anyway, he never knew what time it was. The little clock that sat on his desk ran out of battery months ago, and Roman just never got around to asking for new ones.
He must’ve been up all night though because just as he finished the last line, and closed his notebook, the door to his cell opened and two guards, different from earlier, stepped in. “SCP-0604, it’s time for breakfast.”
Roman felt exhausted, for he chose to ignore it while writing, and elected to acknowledge it only once he was done, but these two guards didn’t know that. So, Roman sat up straight, placed a twinkling smile on his face, and turned to face the guards. “Well, it’s about time.”
“Flamboyant even at the crack of dawn.” New Douche Guard Number One muttered.
Roman winked as he walked past him out the door, “You better count on it.”
When they made it to the designated, “Meal Room”, Roman walked in, gladly leaving his guards out on the other side of the door. Only Logan was there so far, Patton and Virgil always seemed to be last. As Roman took a seat beside Logan, Logan was fixing him with a deadpan stare.
While Roman grabbed some toast to put on his plate, he chose not to reciprocate Logan’s stare as he said, “I know what you’re going to say, Logan, but I just lost track of time. I will take a nap once I get back to my room.”
A beat of silence followed as Roman’s statement hung in the air, before Logan eventually sighed and grabbed a pitcher to pour some juice. “Honestly, I couldn’t care less. It’s Patton’s wrath you’ll have to face. I’m willing to hypothesize he can feel how tired you are even from his room.”
“Is that so, Specs?” Roman hummed. “Well, I’m willing to bet Patton will first insult your taste in reading material,” Next to Logan was an encyclopedia that he chose to bring with him to read while he ate. “I thought you didn’t even need to read anyway, can’t you just look at the book and know everything inside it?”
Unoffended by Roman’s insult, Logan thumbed the book open and began reading the page his bookmark was stuffed into. “That is correct, but sometimes it’s nice to just sit and read.”
Roman slumped back in his chair but didn’t get to respond because the door opened again, and Patton and Virgil arrived inside. Once the door closed, the first thing Patton did was turn to Roman, and with his best scolding face said, “Roman! Why are you so tired? Did you sleep at all?”
Roman smiled, these are the people he loved to be around.
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