Chapter Text
Marcus was sure he was going to have a good day at work for once. He’d woken up on time, gotten to work ten minutes before his shift was supposed to start, and even gotten a muffin before his coworkers had eaten them all.
After that, things had progressed as they usually did. He helped hand out the patients medicine, changed out the blankets and pillows in the minimum security ward, had lunch, then moved on to filing paperwork for outgoing patients.
It always made him happy to see them go. Although a few would come back after a few weeks or even months, he liked to think most of them, the ones who never came back, had been able to resume a healthy life outside. Being locked up in a mental health ward was hard, but sometimes necessary, he supposed. It wasn’t bad, or evil, and neither were the people. They needed help, and even if he was still an entry level orderly, he still felt like he was helping in some small way.
Flexing his hands to work out some cramps from typing so much, Marcus sighed. Human medicine was never something he’d wanted or even intended to go into, but a single mistake while signing some paperwork had sent him down exactly that path. So much for being a vet…
Catching a mistake just before he could submit some financial paperwork, Marcus paused. That was odd. The kitchen may occasionally go over budget if they were sent bad produce and had to buy more, but that was… Wow, that was actually pretty bad. That couldn’t be right at all, actually.
Printing out the papers as he went, he started looking back and finding more and more mistakes in the budget. Most of it was only a little over here and there and easy to cover with the surplus from other departments… but the more recent ones were pretty bad, extreme almost. Highlighting the sections as they printed out, he stopped when he had about two years of mis budgeted funds stacked up. He knew it went back further, but he wanted to show his boss before he went any deeper.
Nodding to a couple of people as he made his way down the hall to Richards office, he knocked on the door. There was a brief pause, then, “Come in.”
Closing the door behind him as he stepped inside, Marcus offered him a thin smile. He’d been having a good day and if he was really, really, really lucky, he’d still be having a good day after he got out of there.
“Ah, good afternoon, sir. I wanted to show you something,” he explained, standing beside the chair in front of his boss's desk. God forbid he sit down without being told to. He’d done it once, only to end up being shouted at until he nearly cried. That had been his first day and Richards had seemed to hate him ever since.
“What is it?” he asked, not looking away from his computer screen.
“There have been a lot of… discrepancies with the budget,” Marcus explained, trying to choose his words carefully. Not noticing the sudden tension in Richards’ jaw, he continued, “It goes back at least the past two years. I don’t think anyone’s really noticed it, but I can see why. It started out with really menial amounts, but lately it’s been-”
“Give me those and get out,” Richards snapped, practically snatching the stack of papers out of his hands. “Get back to work.”
Forcing his expression to remain neutral, Marcus risked saying, “I can go look further back and see if I can find when this start–”
“No!” Richards practically shouted. Was he sweating a little? Huh, it sure looked like it… “Just- just get back to work, Marcus! I’ll handle this.”
Nodding stiffly, he turned on his heel and marched out of the office. He really didn’t have much to do at the moment. Dinner wasn’t for another several hours, and he was on a twenty-four hour shift so it wasn’t like he would be going home anytime soon. With that, he marched back to the archives room and started digging.
~~
Marcus was so invested in what he’d found that he missed his name being called over the radio four times. It wasn’t until one of his fellow nurses stuck their head into the door to ask, “Hey, are you still alive?” that he broke off his staring contest with the computer screen.
Blinking his dry eyes, he asked, “What? Who? Who died?”
Laughing, she said, “Richards wants to see you in his office. He’s called you over the radio several times. You better get moving before he has an aneurysm, or you’re going to get to do the paperwork for the coroner.”
“Haha, ha, funny,” he deadpanned, shutting off the computer. He already knew why Richards wanted to see him. Picking up where he’d left off, it had been pretty easy to figure out the man had been embezzling money for the past eight years. He must have been getting greedy or maybe he had some debts to pay off, but his subtle, easy to miss thefts had taken a sharp turn upwards in the past couple of months.
As he shuffled down the hallway again, Marcus tried to mentally prepare himself for what might come next. Would Richards threaten him to try and keep him from speaking up about it? He had all the proof he needed to not only get the man fired, but put in prison for a long time. Mouth set in a determined line, he decided that if Richards tried to fire him or threatened him in any way, he’d threaten him right back. He had no family that could be used as leverage and he highly doubted his boss had the guts to actually lay hands on him… Hell, he’d probably threaten Richards anyway. The cost of living was going up, unlike his paycheck, so maybe a raise was in order. It was certainly long past due.
Not bothering to knock when he reached the office, Marcus pulled the chair out and sat down, staring Richards in the eye the entire time. He could see a vein pulsing in his forehead and knew that he knew. Would he still try to lie? Pretend he hadn’t been stealing thousands upon thousands of dollars from the mental health clinic that employed him? What reason could he possibly have for taking money that could and should have gone to helping the people in his care? Marcus almost wanted to hear how he’d try and justify himself… The rest of him wanted to leap over the desk and strangle him to death with his bare hands.
Clearing his throat, Richards sat up a little straighter before interlacing his fingers, hands resting on the desk between them. “Marcus… I… wanted to thank you for catching the… budget issue.”
“Sure thing,” he answered flatly. Was he seriously going to pretend it was nothing? Did he think the orderly he’d been abusing and berating on a daily basis for the past three years wouldn’t jump at the chance to throw him under the bus and have the law on his side while he did it?
“As thanks for your diligent and thorough work… I’ve recommended you for a transfer.”
Marcus actually let out a sharp laugh. Oooh, no. He’d put up with far too much to just transfer out without a word. He was going to nail Richards to the wall. He had literal years of paperwork to back him up, and no reason not to!
“Mr. Wesker, the CEO, has actually agreed to fast track your promotion,” Richards told him, visibly sweating.
Marcus raised an eyebrow. As much as he enjoyed watching his boss squirm, the sudden change from ‘transfer’ to ‘promotion’ was… odd.
“See, the clinic is out in…” he paused, squinting at the computer screen to read before continuing, “Out in… Alaska.”
“You’re kidding, right?” Marcus finally asked. “You’re going to try and send me to Alaska to cover your own-”
Loudly clearing his throat, Richards was quick to jump back in with, “You’ll receive a very substantial raise, be housed in a fully furnished dormitory a few miles from the clinic itself, and be given a rather nice bonus to help cover moving expenses… They- they could really use the help, as it’s hard to find staff for such a remote location, and with your work ethic and experience, I think- or, rather, we both agree, you’re a great fit!”
As big a load of crap as that was, Marcus was already seriously considering it. His work ethic wasn’t the issue, really. He just had trouble being on time, but he always worked as hard as he could to make up for it and would often stay longer to help cover shift changes. He wasn’t sure how the hell Richards had blown enough smoke up the CEO’s ass to convince him that he of all people would be a good fit… but hey… that kind of money was no joke.
“I’ve taken the liberty of preparing an official offer for you to look over and… hopefully sign,” Richards continued, pushing a piece of paper at him. “This just covers your salary, shifts, responsibilities, housing agreement.”
Looking it over, Marcus paused, eyes widening. “I’d get full health benefits?”
“Dental and vision too,” Richards quickly added. “It’s actually a better plan than even I have here.”
“Mhmm,” he agreed, already back to reading. He didn’t trust there not to be some kind of trickery in the wording of the agreement, but so far it all looked legit. Finding the section regarding ‘employee compensation’, his jaw dropped. That couldn’t be right. That was almost quadruple what he was currently making! He could start taking online courses for veterinary school! It wouldn’t be enough to get him his degree or anything, but it would put him on the fast track to get into a physical school and start learning the practical applications!
Snapping his mouth closed, he quickly read the rest of the offer before reading it two more times. It seemed perfectly legal and appropriate. Nothing sneaky or untoward. Was he really being offered all of that just to keep his mouth closed?
It felt… selfish. If he took the job and said nothing, what was to keep Richards from continuing to steal from the clinic? Nothing… But was it really that bad? The money he was taking wasn’t really affecting the day to day or the patient's ability to receive the care they needed… And he’d be able to pursue the career he really wanted! Not to mention he’d be able to get the hell away from Richards for good.
Allowing a smug smile on his face, Marcus reached over and grabbed a pen off the desk. It was Richards’ favorite pen. One that the man nearly broke someone’s wrist for trying to take and protected like it was made of solid gold. It wasn’t, it was just a really nice pen that wrote so smoothly it could make an artist cry.
Signing his name at the bottom of the document, Marcus stuck the pen in the front pocket of his scrubs before smiling at Richards. “Thanks for the recommendation, boss. And the parting gift. So? When do I leave?”
Still looking stunned and maybe a little distraught over the loss of his pen, Richards shook himself slightly before answering, “Tomorrow morning. You can catch a cab to the airport as soon as your shift is over.”
“Or, you can call me an uber so I can go home and pack,” Marcus stated. “That way I can head out first thing in the morning and not risk missing my flight.
Eyebrows knitting together in a deep frown, Richards started to argue, “I fail to see how-”
“I’ll be waiting out front for the car,” he interrupted, standing up. “It’s been great working with you.”
Turning on his heel, he left the office before Richards could say another word. His composure didn’t break until he was outside. Slumping onto a bench beside the front door, Marcus pressed a hand to his chest. Jesus Christ, his heart was racing so fast he thought he might pass out! He couldn’t believe he’d just done that! It felt… good. It felt really good! Feeling the pen pressing between his palm and his chest, he let out a small laugh. He’d even stolen Richards’ stupid pen that he loved so much.
Ahh, it had been a good day after all…
Things happened extremely quickly after that. Marcus was on cloud nine for the entire ride home. He didn’t have a lot of stuff to pack and his roommates wished him luck in his new position. None of them had ever been to Alaska and he was too excited to sleep, so the three of them stayed up all night smoking pot and watching nature documentaries about Alaska and the native wildlife.
Marcus still didn’t sleep, but was sober by the time he was supposed to leave for the airport. Bidding farewell to his roommates when they dropped him off, he was finally on his way to a new, better chapter of his life.
He slept for most of the plane ride, only waking up when they began their descent. Peering out the window, he was shocked by just how massive everything was. The mountains, the woods, the sparse, unoccupied landscape between cities. It was beautiful, and when he stepped out of the airport, he couldn’t help but stare in awe. The sky was so much closer than it had been back home; it almost felt like he could reach out and grab a cloud if he stretched his arms up high enough. The air smelled cleaner and despite the people all around him, it didn’t feel as crowded.
“Marcus Taylor, I presume?” a voice said, and he jumped.
Looking over, then up, he took a small step back. A tall, imposing man was standing right next to him. His long black coat, gloves, sunglasses, shirt, and pants made him look like some kind of secret agent…
In comparison, Marcus felt rather ordinary. He wasn’t all that tall nor was he as built as the blond waiting for his answer. Clearing his throat, he finally confirmed, “Yeah, I’m Marcus.”
“Ah,” the man said, openly looking him up and down. He didn’t hold out a hand as he introduced, “Albert Wesker. Come, I’ll be driving you to the asylum.”
Albert Wesker? The CEO?!
Marcus wasn’t sure if he felt flattered or horrified. The CEO! And there he was, dressed in ripped up blue jeans and a coke-a-cola hoodie that still had smelled a little bit like weed and his former roommates ferrets!
Hiking his backpack a little higher on his shoulders, he quickly took off after his boss. Wesker hadn’t waited to see if he was following, simply turning and walking away after telling him he’d be driving him to the new facility.
Walking up to one of the nicest cars Marcus had ever seen, he actually hesitated to touch the door. What if he smudged it? What if he got pet hair in it?!
Pausing on the other side of the car, Wesker cracked a snide smile. “It doesn’t bite.”
Startled, Marcus blushed but quickly opened the door and sat in the passenger seat. Even the inside of the car was fancy. A large touch screen took up most of the center dash while buttons and knobs of all sizes offered a ridiculous range of comfort options. Seat heaters, seat coolers, lumbar support, arm rest support. Hell, he wouldn’t be surprised if the car could make coffee and give back rubs with as much stuff as it had crammed into it. The engine started up almost completely silently, a fact he only realized when they started moving.
“Do you wear glasses or contacts?” Wesker asked once they were a few miles down the road.
A little surprised, Marcus shook his head. Considering that they were driving and it was probably unwise for him to look away from the road, he said out loud, “No, sir, I don’t.”
“You may consider getting some to help… even out the color of your eyes,” he recommended.
Marcus decided right then and there that he didn’t like Wesker. He’d heard all kinds of comments about his mismatched eyes all his life and the lack of professionalism from the CEO of the company was simply atrocious. Besides, he wasn’t sure that regular colored contacts would do shit to make his eyes match. Not when one was bright blue and the other was coppery brown.
Reaching out, Wesker pressed a couple of prompts on the touch screen. What looked like cue cards popped up on the screen, and he said, “Allow me to formally welcome you to your new position at Crotus Prenn Asylum. We house some of society's more troubled persons who are unable to be reintegrated safely. There is a dress code that must be strictly adhered to at all times. This is for your safety as well as the safety of the patients. Bright colors, patterns, and skin art such as tattoos, piercings, or other modifications must be covered at all times if they cannot be removed while on shift.”
Glancing from the words clearly visible on the screen to Wesker reading them as he drove, Marcus couldn’t stop himself from peering over at the speedometer. Oh god, they were going to fucking die. They were already in the mountains, snow still visible in patches along the pavement and clinging stubbornly to the branches of the trees, and Wesker was doing seventy-five! And not looking at the road!
Clearing his throat, Marcus dared interrupt the incredibly bored, deadpan introduction delivery to say, “It- it’s fine. I can- I can read it if that’s easier. So you can… drive.”
Taking a sharp curve without slowing down, Wesker actually pressed down on the gas, sending the car roaring down the road. Chuckling as Marcus flattened himself into his seat with a look of mild terror on his face, he said, “Don’t worry, I’ve driven this route plenty of times.”
It wasn’t so much the route that concerned him, but the fact that black ice, wildlife, and other vehicles couldn’t be predicted or memorized!
“Trust me, it’s a long drive. You’ll want to get there soon so you can rest before your shift tomorrow.”
“Mhmm,” Marcus squeaked, squeezing his eyes closed as trees flew past. He’d made the mistake of looking out his window, only to realize they were on the edge of a very steep drop. Ugh, he was starting to feel kind of queasy…
Wesker let out a mirthless laugh and the rest of the drive was spent in near silence, the only sound being the roar of the car’s engine as they climbed the winding mountain roads.
Even with the speed Wesker drove, it still took them almost three hours to get to their destination. Passing through a huge gate that slid silently closed behind them, they followed the road almost another mile before it split into two paths. Taking the one to the left, they eventually pulled up at a large, five story building. It was clearly the dormitories, and Wesker confirmed it a moment later.
“You’ll be housed here. I have a private dwelling about a quarter of a mile down that path, and the asylum itself is back down the road, then up the opposite path. It’s several miles, so you’ll have to take the shuttle. If you miss the scheduled pick up and drop off times, there’s a number you can call to have it come pick you up. Dwayne or Quiggly should have it.”
Before Marcus could ask who either of those people were, Wesker was already stepping out of the car. Scrambling to follow him lest he be left behind again, he followed him into the building.
“The first and second floors are the women's dormitories, the third floor is the common area, laundry, kitchen, and game room, while the fourth and fifth floors are for men. Should you need to transfer rooms for any reason, put in the request with Dwayne or Ellie.”
Pulling a bunch of keys out of his coat, Wesker unlocked a large metal panel on the wall and swung it open. Rows of keys hung behind it, and he picked one from the top row before holding it out to Marcus.
“Your room. Go ahead upstairs and make yourself comfortable. Your roommates will show you around and take you to the clinic for your shift in the morning. Our head nurse will take it from there.”
Looking at the tag on the room key, then back up, Marcus was given no time to ask any questions. Wesker was already out the door and getting back into his car.
“Well… that was certainly an introduction I guess,” he mused skeptically. With that, he took his bag upstairs so he could look for his new room.
~~~~