SCP-137 -81

While Natasha was busy grilling poor Graves for more answers, Alex himself, having deactivated his O5 suit made his way back to his bunker to collect his thoughts.

The meeting had gone exactly as he had planned; after months of planning, everything was coming together nicely. It would only take a few weeks, and he was certain that the black widow would join up.

Even more so as he still had an ace up his sleeve, that being her sister and the other widows, even her foster mother had been collected. He had no doubt that all his plans concerning Natasha would work out.

Even though everything had gone as planned, he was still shocked and surprised by one of her questions—or, more accurately, the answer he had given her. He hadn't lied; he spoke nothing but the truth.

The few questions she had asked, which he wasn't willing to answer, he had just told her that that information was classified, something very common within the Foundation. Still, that one answer shocked him, deeply at that.

His age had always been somewhat unclear, even to him. He knew he was pretty old, but going past the 100-year mark, everything just became so very, very blurry. He hadn't given it much attention before.

However, as Natasha asked about the Foundation's age and when he joined, those answers appeared in his mind, hinting at the fact that he was a hell of a lot older than he had believed before.

The question is, why didn't he remember things like that? Just what else might be hidden from him, and how?

"System, are you the one responsible for this?" He whispered, yet once more, the system remained silent.

Shaking his head Alex sunk back into his work, though his work was slow since his mind wasn't truly in it.

------------------

[With Natasha]

Natasha found herself on an underground floor of the Ricci mansion. Fully dedicated for members of staff and the Foundation use. Unless one knew about that, it would be impossible to spot the difference between the Foundation and Ricci crime business.

She had spent hours drilling Graves for more information, and once he was finally done with answering more, she had started to ask everyone she could find who would give her a moment of their time.

Which proved easy since someone was clearly always around watching her and making sure she didn't wander off somewhere she wasn't meant to be.

She was quickly starting to learn quite a bit about this Foundation and what she learned frightened her as much as it made her curious.

She could already imagine that this feeling of curiosity was used to recruit many of their members. She couldn't imagine many scientists being able to resist the chance to study these SCP objects.

The feeling she was getting from talking with the people here was much the same as what she had gotten when she first joined SHIELD. It wasn't something she had expected when she went to go undercover, to honestly be left with a feeling that she might truly want to join up.

That did, however, depend on whether what she was told was true. She wouldn't be able to find out until she was allowed to learn more and maybe see some of those SCP objects. For one, she was very curious about SCP-053; she wanted to see if they were treating the girl right, the same for the other kids.

…

Thankfully, she only had to stay under house arrest for a few days before the opportunity to go and try collecting one of those objects came by.

"Romanoff, it's action time; we have been given permission to leave this SITE and follow up on a clue on an object," Graves, her main handler, said to her as he came into the room where she was busily interrogating the guards.

Natasha was pleasantly surprised she was allowed out already now. She had feared she would have to stay here for longer and face a slow indoctrination. "Care to share the details? Or are they all classified?"

"I will brief you on the way; for now, let's get you equipped for the mission." Graves said as he started to lead her down the various winding corridors.

"Alright, Romanoff, this box contains your equipment; when we return back here again, we expect it to be filled up again before you are allowed to enter the mansion, and whether or not you have to go through the full inspection depends on me, so don't mess around." He warned her as he pushed a big black box over to her.

Looking through the box, Natasha found all kinds of weapons, including the same stuff she used to have for her SHIELD missions, right down to an official-looking SHIELD badge. As she saw that it was a perfect copy of her old SHIELD ID from before she went undercover, she wasn't sure what to think.

The very idea that she could succeed was starting to look like a massive joke, given how much information they clearly had access to. "I never had a chance, huh? Say, do you know from when I got on the Foundation's radar?"

Graves took a moment to think. "I believe there was a mission in Budapest to spy on you as you did some mission, taking down the Red Room or something." He said after a while, not sounding entirely sure.

Even that, however, was shocking enough to think that the Foundation had been spying on her, the master spy, this entire time, and she hadn't known about it; even SHIELD hadn't known about it. It really did speak volumes about the might of the Foundation.

After equipping herself, she was left with just a thick collar-like choker. It didn't look bad, but she couldn't help but look between it and Graves. "Really? A collar? What's next? A leash?"

Graves for one gave a slight smile at her comment. "Oh, don't worry, that's an explosive collar, so you won't need a leash, it is the leash."

Natasha couldn't help but grimace at his words; even the Red Room hadn't used this kind of thing. Then again, she was here as a known spy, she guessed she shouldn't have expected anything less. "You don't get one? Well, Aren't I the lucky one?"

Even though it was a joke, Graves shocked her with his answer. "I won't be needing one for this mission; most agents only wear that kind of thing if we are dealing with certain types of objects where death is better than whatever fate the object has in store for us."

Natasha's mind raced at the implications of Graves' words. The Foundation's willingness to employ such drastic measures underscored the gravity of the threats they faced.

The idea that certain SCP objects warranted a quick death over capture was chilling. Yet, it also hinted at a level of pragmatism and determination that Natasha respected, even if it was somewhat terrifying.

Under the watchful eye of Graves, Natasha locked the collar around her neck. Hoping that she would be able to go out without this soon enough. "One question, do you know who my contact is?"

Graves just smiled and nodded. "Nice farm he got, very off the books." Was the chilling answer he got. Letting Natasha know that the Foundation clearly knew about Clint's secret farm, something even SHIELD wasn't supposed to know about.

Once they were ready to set out, she was led out through some underground tunnels and into a car garage, where they entered a nice black car and sat off. Appearing on the roads of New York and appearing to have nothing to do with the Ricci family. Meaning any SHIELD agents wouldn't see her leave and know that she was out.

Graves drove easily through the city traffic. "Normally you would be given a proper mission briefing either in paper or digital form, maybe even with a verbal part as well. This time though, you only get verbal from me.

After giving her a brief look, he continued, "The object we believe we might have located is SCP-137, the living toys. It isn't a very dangerous object, and it is also easy enough to contain. The problem with finding it is how little impact it has."

As Graves navigated the bustling streets, he detailed the peculiarities of SCP-137. "It's a phenomenon that animates toys, giving them the characteristics and behaviors of whatever they represent. Imagine a toy dinosaur actually behaving like a real dinosaur. Only dangerous if it animates something like a life-size dinosaur."

Natasha found it fascinating and impossible, yet she didn't voice her doubt, knowing that she would know the truth soon enough. She could also imagine that some child wouldn't think twice about the fact that their toys got animated.

Meaning that news about it might spread slowly, meaning that it could take years before it showed itself as long as the owner didn't show it off or record it in action. "So, how did you find it?"

Graves let out a little chuckle before he continued. "Someone just purchased some live-scale toys, robots, dinosaurs, tanks, that kind of thing."

Natasha quickly put two and two together. Knowing about the nature of the object, the Foundation would just keep an eye and ear open for things such as moving toys and purchases of certain kinds of toys. "I see, rather clever."

Nodding his head, Graves continued, "Yes, so we will go in, check if we can find some moving toys, and if we do, bring them all in for containment. It's easy and simple, and if possible, we will erase memories, though that might not be possible in this case."

Natasha didn't think that the Foundation she was slowly learning about would spare some poor children's minds for the goodness of their hearts. "Why is that?"

Graves brought the car to a stop outside a very expensive-looking mansion. "Because the kid that might own said toy lives here."

Natasha quickly looked around and inspected the area more closely. "Wait, this is the home of the Osborns." Natasha quickly realized.

"And Norman just happens to be busy at work right now, so we won't have to deal with him. Now come on," Graves said as he stepped out of the car.

Natasha was honestly a little shocked at how calmly he took this. For while the Osborn might not be quite as big a deal as the Stark name, they were still almost untouchable thanks to the many military and other government contracts they had; even SHIELD wouldn't touch them lightly.

Graves led the way to the front door with confidence and purpose. He knocked at the door without the slightest hesitation, clearly showing a difference in style between SHIELD and the Foundation. Clearly, the latter had no respect for anyone.

The door was opened by was appeared to be a butler. "Can I help you?"

Graves pulled out a Shield ID of his own and another piece of paper. "I'm Agent Graves with the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division. I have a search warrant here. I need you to let us inside."

The butler seemed shocked at the demand; even Natasha was shocked at the sheer audacity of Graves and the Foundation to pretend to be SHIELD; no wonder they hadn't moved against them before.

The butler hesitated, glancing at the ID and then the search warrant. "One moment, please," he said, stepping back to make a call.

Natasha and Graves waited patiently outside. Natasha couldn't help but admire the boldness of the Foundation's approach. SHIELD wasn't well known, but to those who knew about them, the name was like thunder on a clear day. Someone like Osborn would surely know about them. Which meant he wouldn't dare to deny them, even if he would afterword make complaints.

After a few tense minutes, the butler returned. "You may enter," he said, stepping aside to allow them access. "Mr. Osborn will arrive soon and please don't damage anything."

Graves just smiled, he knew very well that Norman wouldn't be able to leave the meeting he was currently in, the Foundation had made sure of that. "I need everyone to gather at one spot, so you don't move around hiding anything."

As Graves' authoritative voice echoed through the opulent hallway, the butler hesitated for a moment, visibly uncomfortable with the command but knowing better than to argue. "Very well, I will gather everyone in the living room," he acquiesced before turning to fulfill the task.

Once in the living room, they waited as the mansion's inhabitants—household staff, a few family members, and notably, a young boy who Natasha guessed might be the owner of the SCP-137-infected toys—gathered under the watchful eyes of the Foundation agents.

 Graves addressed the room with a calm authority that seemed to command respect. "We're here on official business related to national security. We need to inspect some items in your possession for your safety and the safety of others. Your cooperation is appreciated and will ensure the process is swift and without inconvenience."

There were some complaints, but Graves didn't want to hear it, and soon, under some threats of arrest, everyone stayed quiet. After that, Graves led Natasha through the mansion as they left the staff locked inside the living room.

Knowing what they were looking for, it didn't take them long to locate a child's bedroom filled with toys that moved around independently.

As Natasha observed the animated toys, she couldn't help but be fascinated by the sight. A small, plastic dinosaur stomped across a wooden desk, letting out a life-like roar, while a tiny robot marched alongside it. The sheer impossibility of what she was witnessing reminded her of the many secrets the world held, secrets that the Foundation dealt with daily.

Looking towards Graves, she couldn't help but ask. "Are they dangerous?"

Graves paused for a moment to look up from his phone. "The military toys might be, they are, in a sense, real mini planes and tanks." He said, pointing towards some military toys that move about in formation on the floor.

While Natasha went around and touched the toys, inspecting them further. Graves made a call. "SCP-137 confirmed, requesting backup." The call lasted only a minute, and he joined Natasha in looking at the toys. "Try giving them an order."

Natasha looked over a time before in a clear, commanding voice filled with authority. "Defensive formation, now!" and the toys really did move into a defensive formation. "Amazing."

"We have a few minutes before reinforcement comes. You can inspect them but don't try anything sneaky, or you will regret it." He reminded her as he stepped back.

Natasha hadn't even considered using them to contact SHIELD until now, too amazed by the impossible sight before her. Shaking her head, she went back and started playing with the toys, amazed at the intelligence and realism of some of them.

A/N

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