Piercing the Veil CHP 1 {Sanders Sides Fanfiction}

J.M.J

Thomas Sanders was not the type of person who would normally sign up for experimental drug testing. In fact, that was the kind of thing he wouldn’t touch with a ten no, fifteen foot pole. He understood the need for it, and he respected anyone who would risk their life for the greater good, but if someone had told him a week ago that he would be sitting in a waiting room at St. Luke's Children's Hospital with twenty other men approximately his age, waiting to be injected with a syringe that would do nothing/kill them all/change their lives, he probably wouldn’t have believed them.

Even now, he could feel his anxiety writhing in his stomach, begging him to run for his life instead of consigning himself to whatever terrible fate he was about to undergo. Thomas hoped they called his name soon, or he might end up actually leaving. He fiddled with the thick plastic bracelet around his wrist and, not for the first time, wondered why he had gotten himself into this.

It had started with the email.

Thomas almost never checked his email. It was luck that he looked before the Veil Research Institute’s offer expired. It was the third email they had sent him, and he had no idea how they had found his records in the first place. His family had moved out of Florida years ago, and hadn’t updated their information since.

They said in the email that they were confident he would do the right thing.

Thomas wanted to be the type of person who wasn’t afraid to sign up for experimental drug testing in order to prevent other children from suffering through their piercings closing up. Maybe they knew that. They seemed to know far too much about him anyway.

He wasn’t sure if he was that type of person.

Either way, Thomas Sanders was sitting in a waiting room, waiting for someone to call his name so he could do something dangerous and change someone else’s life. Beneath the unsilenceable fear, he was rather proud of himself.

He clenched and unclenched his shaking hands, trying to ignore the feel of the bracelet against his wrist. It seemed like an eternity before the door opened and a man in blue scrubs stepped into the waiting room. Thomas held his breath with a mixture of anticipation and fear.

“Will James Miller, Anthony Smith, Paul Nguyen, and Thomas Sanders please follow me?” the nurse asked, his voice slightly muffled by his face mask.

Thomas stood. Three other men rose throughout the room. He shuffled toward the door, his anxiety spiking as he crossed the threshold. He barely remembered being ushered into a small, brightly lit room and told to sit on the hospital bed. He realized he was spiraling and tried to control his breathing but no matter how many breaths he took, he couldn’t seem to pull enough oxygen into his lungs. He buried his face in his hands.

This was stupid. He shouldn’t have come here. He should have stayed home. He-

The door clicked shut, and someone cleared their throat.

Thomas flinched and looked up. A woman in a white lab coat stood near the door, holding a small briefcase. She smiled at him, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

“Hello, Mr. Sanders. I’m Dr. Irene Pocket. I’ve been assigned to help you through the test today.”

Thomas took a deep breath and gave her the best smile he could manage. “Hi, I’m Thomas.” Internally, he winced.

She obviously already knew that.

She returned the polite smile, then pulled up a chair, one Thomas hadn’t noticed before, and cracked open her briefcase. Her expression shifted, becoming more clinical.

“Please answer the following questions to the best of your ability," Dr. Pocket said. "I've been informed that you experience anxiety in medical settings. Is that correct?”

“Occasionally,” Thomas replied, frowning.

“Do you authorize the use of my piercing to help regulate your mood?” she asked,

“Yeah.” He sighed.

Dr. Pocket nodded. Instantly, thin green tendrils erupted from her hands and wrapped around her fingers. Small pink flowers bloomed along the vines, unfurling delicate stalks and petals. A sweet scent filled the hospital room.

Thomas felt something in his stomach unclench. Breathing became just a little easier. Something sickly tickled the back of his throat, but he did his best to ignore the pervasive wrongness of it all and focus on the doctor.

“How do you feel?” she asked.

“Better,” he lied.

“Good. May we continue?”

“Yes.”

Thomas was almost surprised when she paused to rummage through her briefcase instead of asking another question. All she did was hand him a small, folded flyer.

“Do you consent to having your brainwaves monitored during the procedure?”

“Yes.”

“Do you understand that piercings during adulthood can cause permanent damage to your Veil, which may result in insanity, amnesia, or death?”

Thomas stared at the flyer. On it was a cartoony illustration of the Veil, a bandage slapped over a glasslike fracture, accompanied by blocky text he didn’t bother to read. “Yeah.”

“Do you understand that you are going to be administered a drug designed to prevent the regeneration of your Veil?”

“Yes.”

She looked up and gave him another polite smile. “Do you acknowledge the possibility of being administered a placebo?”

Huh. He hadn’t thought about that. “Uh, yeah.”

Dr. Pocket shut her briefcase and stood. “A nurse will be along shortly to check your vitals and prepare the scanner. Do you have any questions?”

Thomas shook his head. “No… Thank you.”

She left.

He exhaled and leaned back on his hands. This was far from the first time he’d encountered a manifestation meant to ease someone’s mood. They were common in hospitals, especially in children's hospitals. It was sort of funny actually, but he could never find himself able to trust someone who could manipulate how he was feeling so directly. He did feel calmer, but there was a cold pit of fear in his stomach instead of a writhing mass of it.

Surprisingly, it really wasn’t long before the nurse came into the room, she was a small, shrewd looking old woman.She said his vitals were normal, although apparently he should cut back on the salt and she spent a good amount of time placing round sticky pads connected to various colored wires to on his head. She left after several warnings to not touch anything, and only move if absolutely necessary.

Of course, his head instantly began to itch, and it seemed like an eternity before several people entered the room. A man who Thomas assumed was a doctor based on his outfit, two nurses, and a woman in all black who he could only assume was the needle.

“Alright Thomas,” The doctor said, his voice was low and hoarse. “First things first I am going to inject you with the inhibitor, while Tina and Jake monitor you physically and mentally for any negative reactions.” He gestured at the two nurses.

The doctor was waiting for a response, so Thomas nodded.

“Wonderful.” The doctor said, “After fifteen minutes have passed and if there are no reasons to stop the procedure, Miss Lana here-” he gestured at the needle, “Will pierce your Veil.”

He paused and looked at Thomas expectantly,

“Okay.” Thomas said,

The doctor, who had still yet to introduce himself, clasped his hands and pulled a syringe out of thin air. The liquid in the syringe was clear and Thomas clenched his fists.

“On three.” The doctor said with a smile.

Thomas nodded. The doctor crossed the gap between them and pulled up Thomas’s sleeve, he quickly wiped the area with a small disinfecting cloth and held up the needle.

“One.”

Thomas took a deep breath.

“Two”

Something sharp stabbed into his shoulder. Thomas flinched, and pulled away from the pain.

“What- Hey!” Thomas said, covering his shoulder with his other hand and staring at the doctor with a betrayed expression.

“Sorry about that,” the doctor said mildly.

Thomas stared at him, affronted. “You said three.”

“Yes,” the doctor replied. “I did.”

Thomas muttered something under his breath but didn’t press it. The injection sight ached slightly, and he lowered his uninjured arm. Several drops of blood laced his fingers, the doctor took his momentary distraction to tap a small piece of gauze over the wound. He then stepped back and began to quietly chat with Miss Lana.

“Do you have a problem with needles?” Tina asked, she walked over to him while looking at a small tablet.

“A little,” Thomas admitted.

“Your heart rate is slightly elevated, please try to remain calm.” Tina said, frowning slightly in concentration.

“Okay.” Thomas said,

The doctor checked his watch. Jake was watching something on his own tablet.

The first minute crawled by. Thomas focused on the ceiling tiles. He tried to sense anything different about himself, but other than the faint prickling sensation in his arm and the urge to scratch at the array on his head. Time passed slowly, Thomas had expected some sort of feedback, or sensation to indicate that it had worked, but there was nothing.

Nothing but the uncomfortable feeling caused by four people staring at him expectantly that is.

Eventually fifteen minutes passed and the doctor gestured to Miss Lana. The needle stepped forward and nodded to Thomas. He thought about saying something, but the silence was almost oppressive. She placed her pointer finger on Thomas’s forehead. He shut his eyes, and without any other warning something tore through his mind.

There was no pain, not in the physical sense, at least. He felt unbalanced and exposed. All sound seemed to cut out. Then everything went black.

Not the soft darkness of sleep, but something heavier. There was the occasional impression that someone was speaking to him, a feeling of warmth, or unbreachable cold.

Eventually he became aware of his body again, there was a faint, rhythmic beeping. The low hum of ventilation. The rustle of paper. Then came the weight. Everything felt heavy. Like something was pressing down on top of him. He tried to open his eyes and was instantly blinded by the influx of light.

He was in a different room. Panic filled his chest. Thomas swallowed, the monitor beside him began to beep a little faster. Something was in his wrist. He fumbled with the foreign object, trying to rip it out-

Someone grabbed his hand and Thomas froze. The shock jolted through him and everything snapped into place.

“You are not supposed to disconnect an I.V by yourself,” He said,

Thomas stared at him. The man removed his hand. “It may cause infection or damage to the vein.”

The man sat in a chair near the foot of the bed, one ankle resting on the opposite knee. He was holding a thin stack of papers, several pages marked with neat handwritten notes. He looked familiar for some reason. He was wearing a black shirt with a blue tie.

“Are you thirsty? Although the I.V is providing you with liquids, sleeping for a long period of time can cause the body to crave water.” The man said,

Thomas nodded. The man picked up the small set of papers and set them on the nightstand beside the bed. He stood up and returned a moment later with a small cup of water. Thomas took it from him gratefully.

“The procedure appears to have been a success.” He said,

Thomas nodded slowly as he sipped on the water.

“The tear in your Veil is larger than average, but it is still technically within acceptable parameters.” He gestured at the small stack of papers. “According to that at least.”

“Okay.” Thomas said. He was getting really tired of saying that.

They sat in silence for another few moments. The man’s gaze flicked briefly to the monitor beside the bed, then back to Thomas.

Before Thomas could think of how to ask why this stranger looked so familiar, someone knocked.

Both of them turned. The handle began to twist. Thomas turned to look back at the man.

The chair at the foot of his bed was empty. The papers were neatly stacked in a folder at his bedside. The man was nowhere to be found. Thomas looked around wildly. The door opened fully, and Dr. Pocket stepped inside, her white coat flowing slightly behind her. She offered Thomas the same polite smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Sanders,” she said smoothly. “I’m glad to see you’re awake.”

Thomas stared at the empty space where the man in the tie had been sitting.

Dr. Pocket followed his gaze, then looked back at him without comment.

“How are you feeling?” she asked.

“Fine,” Thomas said automatically, though the beeping from the monitor sped up slightly when he did.

The room looked undisturbed. No extra chair angled toward the bed. No cup missing from a cart. No entire human being who had just been talking to him.

Dr. Pocket tilted her head slightly. “You were sedated following the procedure, disorientation is a common side effect.”

Thomas frowned. “I was sedated?”

“Yes.” She said, “You were moving around in your sleep, it was a precautionary measure.”

Dr. Pocket stepped closer to the bed and tapped at the tablet she’d brought with her.

“I have your final results,” she said. “You were part of our control group and were administered the placebo.”

Thomas blinked at her. “I was…?”

“Yes.” She said, “There was no inhibitor in your injection.”

Thomas stared at her.

Dr. Pocket’s smile remained steady. “The piercing was also successful. Although it is risky during adulthood, all your readings remain normal, I wouldn’t be surprised if it closes like your previous one did.”

“Ah… okay.” Thomas said, his brain finally catching up.

“I’m sure you are curious, I’ve already emailed you the results of the brain scan.” Dr. Pocket said,

This was weird. Thomas thought.

“I’ll remove your I.V now, then if you can walk you can go home, although I’d suggest you call a car.” Dr. Pocket said,

Really, really weird.

“That sounds great, thanks.” Thomas said,

She took out the IV., and true to her word, in less than an hour Thomas was walking through the parking lot on the way back to his car while ignoring Dr. Pocket’s advice to get an uber. He fiddled with his keys, slumped into the driver's seat and buried his face in his hands.

He was pretty sure that this was not how studies like this were supposed to go. They didn’t even ask to monitor him over the course of a week or write a daily log about how he felt. Although, he did get the placebo, but that in of itself was weird. Why would they tell him he got the placebo? Wouldn’t they want to not tell him until the end of the study?

He took a deep breath, and put the keys in the ignition. He would worry about this when he got home.