The Lillihammer Test - SCP Foundation

"I don't mind breaking the rules for you."

⚠️ content warning

The Lillihammer Test

"Heather! Over here!"

Lillian was sitting at a small table, having already bought them a round of drinks.

Heather wasn't sure what to make of that.

She didn't have a ton of experience in being sociable, let alone 'going out' to bars with others. That had changed since transferring to Site-43, now it seemed like she was going out with Lillian, weekly at least. I guess that's just what it's like for everybody. Right?

Not that she had seen anybody else really drinking with Lillian. Or hanging out. Or really approaching her without fear in their eyes. No matter.

Heather headed over to the table, sat down beside Lillian, and smiled.

"Thanks for the drink Lilli."

"I figured it was the least I could do — you seemed pretty shaken up in your email."

Lillian was right, she was shaken up. It's not every day that you realize that trying to get rid of your deadname might have awoken a pattern screamer.

"Hey, are you alright?" Lillian looked concerned.

"Yeah. Just still… not sure what to do next, you know? I feel like everything I've wanted or worked towards has led me here. And now I could be disappearing like everybody else we'd found." Or didn't find, she worried to herself.

The silence sat for an uncomfortable second between the two women. It was only interrupted when an individual came and sat down across from the two of them; Heather didn't recognize him, but by Lillian's glower, it was clear that she did.

"Lillian! New girl! Why the long faces?" He took a long drag of his beer before breathing an artificial sigh and loudly placing his bottle onto the table.

"Medley. What do you want?" Lillian barely kept the annoyance out of her voice, making it clear just what she thought of the man.

"I was just checking on the two of you — this is a bar, you should be enjoying yourselves! I figured that I might be able to help you two with that. You're both much prettier when you smile." Medley gave a suggestive wiggle of the eyebrows.

Yeah, I can see why Lillian reacted like that.

"We're fine Medley. You can leave now."

"And leave two beautiful women alone to drink? It's not as fun without a chivalrous man by your sides, cheering you up!"

Heather thought she had a pretty good idea of what was going on now. She shot a glance at Lillian that said 'let me take care of this'. Lillian mentally shot back 'be my guest'.

Heather leaned forward, looking intensely at Medley. "Oh. That's okay. We can have plenty of fun without men, trust me." Lillian started laughing, while Medley choked on his beer. Good.

"Well. I guess I should have expected nothing less from two members of M&C. I still don't know why you rejected my application Lillian, I was even willing to do the Lillihammer Test!"

Wow, Medley was desperate. Heather didn't even know his first name and she was already making a mental note to avoid him.

Lillian barked back.

"That's the point Medley," Lillian said with a glare, "if you don't get that, then obviously you don't belong in M&C."

"So I guess that means Heather passed your test?" Medley said, looking challengingly at Heather.

Heather, for her part, had zero idea what either of them were talking about. That didn't stop her from escalating things.

"Oh, I've more than passed the Lillihammer Test. Way more."

At that, Heather suggestively put her arm around Lillian; Lillian leaned into her, in an overdramatic sigh. Medley, once again, choked on his beer.

Lillian looked back up at him. "Did you get the hint, Medley? This is a two player game, not a free for all."

That was the final blow. He quickly stood up, spilled his beer on himself, muttered a half-hearted apology, before scurrying away under the gaze of the two women. They couldn't hold back the laughter as he fled from their table. Lillian took a second longer than needed, lingering, before sitting upright and out of Heather's fake-possessive grip.

"Thanks for playing along Lillian, I needed a win."

"Of course, any time I can make a man feel awkward, it's my pleasure."

"So. What is this test, that just so happens to be named after you?"

"Oh my god, I can't believe we haven't talked about this."

Heather could recognize the spark of mischief in Lillian's eyes at this point, and knew that whatever it was, it would be good.

Lillian sat upright, and took on an air of what Heather termed 'section chair mode', before beginning. "If you want to be a fully fledged member of M&C, you will need to agree to undergo the 'Lillihammer Test'. This is a test that I have devised, based on other memetics departments across the Foundation, to assess an individual's mental fortitude and ability to perceive the anomalous and distinguish cognitohazards from their own sanity."

"Right. So what is it, Professor?" Heather couldn't conceal the teasing in her tone — Lillian really had a tendency to fall into lecturer mode at a second's notice.

"I'm getting to it! Just wait a second, okay?" Lillian brushed her hair to the side, refusing to let Heather fluster her any more than she already had. "The test is simple. We block out an afternoon, and then both take hallucinogens and MC-88, a drug that allows our Noospheric fields to synchronize temporarily. This combination allows us to see and experience what the other is thinking or hallucinating. And then we trip. I, of course, assess your mental fortitude, and ability to endure extreme mental conditions, and assuming you do well enough, you become a full member of M&C."

"Bullshit. There's no way doing drugs is a test."

"It's real, everybody who is part of M&C or wants to join has been asked to take part in this test. That's how Medley knew about it."

"Well why didn't I have to take the Lillihammer Test?"

"Your transfer kind of skirted around that, and then I got distracted talking about the Name Changer with you… and then with everything we've been working on together, I just kind of forgot to ask."

Heather wasn't sure if Lillian was making things up anymore — but pushing a little harder couldn't hurt, right?

Heather pushed. "Well, I guess that means we should do the test then? Retroactively, of course."

Lillian looked shocked for a second — just a split second, but it was enough to let Heather know that she had called a bluff.

"Oh, we don't need to do the test, I know that you would pass it anyways. It would be a waste of time for the both of us."

Heather pushed again.

"Really? I mean, I don't want to be unfair to others! If you're being honest, then everybody else in M&C has done this test with you, and it just wouldn't be fair to them if I was allowed to skip it. That might even look like favoritism — and it's not like you act any differently around me, right?" Heather wasn't even bothering to hide the teasing in her tone anymore, directly challenging Lillian.

Lillian paused for a second, running through what was clearly many different permutations of this conversation, before shooting back.

"Well, I was willing to just let it slide, but since you seem so excited to do drugs with me, I guess I can arrange a Lillihammer Test for this weekend. As long as I'm understanding that correctly. You do want to spend an entire day with me, tripping in sync, right?"

There it was. Lillian had taken control of the conversation again. Now Heather had to admit she wanted to take the test for the sake of taking the test, not out of a sense of fairness.

Well, in for a penny, right?

"Lillian. I would love to take the Lillihammer Test this weekend."

Shit. Heather thought belatedly. This is a bad idea. I'm doing drugs with my boss? Heather, you need to remember to at least pretend to be professional in the future, okay?

This is a bad idea. Lillian thought. No way I'm going to let Heather know that, though. Lillian cursed her inability to back down from a challenge.

"How's tomorrow for you, say 11am? It'll be a long day, so make sure you have a good breakfast first."

"Sounds like a plan." Heather smirked at her. Lillian wished she could wipe that look off of Heather's face, but couldn't think of any appropriate ways to do that. At least, none appropriate for a work relationship.

The two women spent the rest of the evening drinking, taking shelter from the oncoming storm within the dimly lit corner of the bar. They kept dancing around each other, both yearning, but unwilling to define what they were. It wouldn't be until after tomorrow that they really knew.

Lillian heard the knock at her door right before 11am.

I should have known that Heather wouldn't change her mind.

Lillian hadn't been sure what would happen — they had spent a few more hours drinking, before walking back to the Site together. Remembering what had happened the last time, when Lillian walked Heather to her door and they almost kissed, Lillian made up an excuse to make sure she didn't act like a teenager again. Heather had looked like she might say something, but in the end, the two women went their separate ways once returning to Site-43.

But now Heather was here, waiting on the other side of her door, to spend an entire day with her. In her dorms.

Lillian opened the door with as welcoming of a smile as she could muster — and was relieved to see that it was actually Heather on the other side of the door.

"Morning! Glad to see you didn't back down."

Heather walked into Lillian's dorm, taking it all in. It was cozy, decorated with keepsakes and art from Lillian's many adventures around the world; eclectic and warm, just like she was. Not that Heather would ever call Lillian that to her face.

There were candles set up throughout the living space, with incense burning on a table in front of Lillian's worn couch. On the table were two teacups on saucers, filled with a reddish-brown tincture.

Heather inhaled deeply, losing herself in the smell of the incense. It was warm, bold, full of amber and spice. Just like Lilli.

"What are you burning?"

"Oh that? It's dragon's blood. I used to burn it whenever I had a rough day, back before I knew who I really was. It felt… it made me think that if a smell could transform an entire room, then maybe everything wasn't so… static. You know?"

"Yeah. I think I do."

The women both took a second to just breathe and let the incense wash over them — the entire world could have disappeared, and neither would have noticed as long as they were both still there.

"Right, sorry! Please, come in and sit down on the couch, I just have to grab one more thing!"

Heather walked over to the couch, sitting down. The room was warmly lit with string lights adding to the glow of the candles. The tea cups on the table didn't match, but were both distinct. Eclectic and unique. Different.

Each cup was filled with a deep amber liquid; Heather stared at the cups, wondering just what was in them. She wasn't waiting long, as Lillian walked back in from her kitchenette, glasses of water in hand. She gingerly placed them down on the table, before sitting down on the couch opposite Heather.

Lillian turned her body to the side, crossed her legs and reached a hand out to Heather's arm.

"Hey. I know a lot has happened since you were transferred. I know that I'm not the easiest person to work for, and with what we just realized about SCP-8688, I understand that you might be freaking out a little bit."

"Just a little bit?"

Lillian laughed. "Yeah, just a little bit. I wanted to say, you know we don't have to do this, right? If you want to just sit here and talk, that's okay too."

"Lillian, I really… look. I don't know what the hell is going on, honestly. I'm terrified about what I did, and I don't know if I can do anything about it."

Lillian started to pick up the tea cups, to move them back into the kitchen, but Heather reached out and put her hand on Lillian's arm, pausing her.

"The thing is? All I know right now is that I want to do this 'test'. With you."

"Heather, I'm going to be honest with you. I've seen a lot of fucked up shit. I have no idea what you're going to see here, and I don't want you to think any less of me."

"Lils? I'm the same. Trust me, I'm terrified of you deciding that I can't stay here because of something you see in my subconscious."

The two looked at each other earnestly, both saying as much as they could with a look.

Lillian smiled gently, leaning back into the chair before cracking her neck.

"Hey. I want you to know, that whatever happens during this? Heather, you're fucking brilliant. You're going to stay working with me as long as you want to."

Heather blushed. In unison, they both picked up the tea cups in front of them and held them up, clinking the cups together.

Lillian began. "So I've made a mixture of both anomalous drugs, regular psilocybin and other assorted ingredients to help us both visualize and experience what the other is seeing. It's not going to be just minor hallucinations, or dizzying patterns; this concoction should effectively transport our minds into complete recreations of spaces and memories. For the most part, we'll both be experiencing the same things — some will be my memories, others will be yours, and sometimes it might be a mixture of the two. If you see something that you don't recognize, assume that I know what's going on. I'm going to do the same for you."

"What if neither of us know what's going on?"

"Well then either it's a compound memory, and we'll have to figure out where the crossover is, so we need to make sure that we don't stop communicating during this, okay?"

"Wait, you said either. What if it's not a compound memory?"

"Well, that's why we're both memetics badasses, right? We'll figure it out."

Heather nodded, psyching herself up. "So we're doing this?"

"Yeah. Let's do it."

At that, the women both drank every last drop in their cups before setting them back down onto the saucers.

"So what now?"

Lillian smiled.

"Now, we wait for it to get weird."

Heather looked up from her hands, having stared at her fingers twitching for far too long.

"Have you done this before?"

Lillian looked up from a piece of paper where she was scrawling… notes? Definitely words — even if they wouldn't stay still.

"Done what before? Drugs?"

"Yeah, let's start there. Because I haven't."

Lillian snorted in disbelief.

"You've never done hallucinogens, and you decided, sure, fuck it, let's do some AND add more anomalous drugs, AND let's do it with my boss!"

Heather looked chagrinned. "I mean… yeah, pretty much."

"Heather! Wow, I never took you for a straight-edge kinda girl."

"I wasn't repressed, I just… well I was too focused on just finished school, and then getting a good job, and then joining the Foundation, and then trying to make a name for myself here. I never really had the chance?"

Heather looked around Lillian's living room, before refocusing her attention back to Lillian.

"I'm glad I can do it here though. With you. You're… you've really made me feel welcome here."

Lillian shrugged, looking away with a slight blush.

"Girls like us need to stick together, right?"

"Right… so when do we start seeing weird stuff?"

"Could be any time. Want to watch some TV? I hear VKTM has a new reality show about dogs pretending to be humans at like the DMV and shit."

They never managed to find the TV remote. Heather had finished her water and had gone into the kitchen to refill her glass, when Lillian heard a yell of surprise. She stood up and quickly walked over, her massive strides crossing her living room in no time; but the kitchen wasn't the kitchen anymore.

Heather had fallen to the ground, looking up in confusion at the alarm klaxons and flashing lights going off around her. Lillian walked over to her, and offered a hand to help her up.

"What the hell is going on here?" Heather kept scanning the space, looking for an explanation. "Is there a containment breach happening?"

Lillian knew what it was automatically. After this long, she could tell where she was in an instant.

"Not right now. This is one of my memories."

"Right, right. Where are we?" Heather grabbed Lillian's hand, pulling herself up and using Lillian to steady herself.

"The better question is when are we!"

"Seriously?"

"Sorry, I couldn't help myself. But also, you should ask me that."

"Really? Lillian?" Heather paused, waiting for a better answer. Lillian just smirked back at her, determined to wait Heather out. "Fine. When are we?"

"September 8th, 2002."

"Wha—oh. We're in the goop loop."

Lillian was stunned at that. "The goop loop?"

Heather shrugged. "Yeah, that's what I call it. SCP-5243, right? The whole accident thingy? I remember reading about it in the transfer briefing."

"Yeah, this is SCP-5243. Or at least, one of the timelines. I don't know which one yet. There's been so many at this point, I've lost track of them."

"That must be hard."

"I guess so? It's just… it's part of the job, right? You maintain normalcy, no matter the cost. And when we don't maintain normalcy? Those are the bad years."

"What kind of year is this one?" Heather started walking around the space — Lillian wasn't sure where they were at first, the room had transformed itself from her small kitchenette into a larger chamber, covered in debris, dirt and rubble. It was definitely one of the bad years.

Poking her head out of the room into the corridors, Lillian saw the Site in disarray. People were walking back and forth, keeping to themselves, zombified in their routines. Heather yelped, and Lillian turned back around.

Now there was another Lillian. Standing in the middle of the room, just… staring at the wall.

"Oh. It's that year."

"A bad year I'm guessing?" Heather asked, unsure how to gauge Lillian's reaction.

"It was… it was a weird one. Bad overall, yeah, but definitely memorable." Lillian stared at her unmoving body, an incomparable sensation of déjà vu crashing into an out of body experience, her mind sliding back into the survival mode that had encompassed that entire year. The panic and practiced stillness swirled through her mind, enveloping her and dragging her in.

And then Heather appeared in front of her. She didn't know when Heather had moved around, nor how she'd gotten close enough without Lillian having noticed. She felt Heather pull her in for an embrace, hugging her tight. It was nice.

"Sorry, I kind of got lost in my thoughts." Lillian said, sheepishly.

"It's okay, you just seemed like you could use a hug. I hope that was okay?" Heather looked concerned.

"Yeah. No. That helped."

"Do you want to talk about it? You kind of… drifted off into your mind. More than you usually do. I tried to give you a moment, but after a minute I got worried."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to worry you — this was just one of the harder ones."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Heather sat down and patted the concrete beside her — Lillian kneeled down and joined her.

"It was… I had to fake it. I had to pretend to be a zombie for months. I was constantly watched, terrified that somebody would realize that I was just pretending. Scared that they would realize that I wasn't supposed to be here, and then they'd come after me and erase me. Just going through the motions, hoping that—"

"Hoping that nobody realizes that it's all an act."

Lillian looked at Heather intently.

"Yeah. Exactly like that. How did you know?"

"It sounds like when I was in the closet. I knew I was a girl, but nobody else could find out. I was terrified about what would happen if they did."

Lillian looked up at Heather, the thought having never crossed her mind before.

"Yeah. Exactly! Just… the feeling of knowing that you have no control, but if you want to survive, you know that you just need to keep up the appearance of normalcy."

Heather gave her a look of sympathy.

"I can't imagine having to go through that twice. Once I finally came out, I told myself that I would never hide who I was again, that I was going to be proud of myself and never compromise who I was for the sake of others." Heather snorted, shaking her head. "Of course, I hid who I was a lot. Out of fear, out of anxiety, hell, even just because I was too tired to try that hard. But I knew that if I really needed to, I could take a stand and just… be me. I can't imagine how hard it was to spend almost an entire year, straight, not being able to do that."

"Thanks. I don't know anybody else who isn't a part of the breach that gets how hard it is to… to feel like everything reset and you're just back where you started."

"I'll never fully understand it — I'm not a part of it. But I just wanted to say that you're not alone, at least, as long as you're willing to talk to me. I might not be here in every timeline, but when I am, you'll have somebody you can count on, okay?"

Heather gave Lillian another squeeze. The two women sat together on the ground, as the chaos of the world blew around them. Lillian felt scared — not because of the breach, or because of the hallucination, but because of how Heather was making her feel.

I really hope she can't see me blushing right now. Lillian worried to herself.

The klaxons and oppressive weight of the memory faded soon after, shifting again, morphing around the two of them until they were outside of the Foundation's facilities.

A dilapidated 1960s hotel emerged from the walls, slowly replacing the grey concrete until a dusty, dimly lit hallway was all that was left. The wallpaper was peeling, revealing the tacky yellow of the glue underneath, fighting against the ancient wood that struggled to maintain its grip onto the paper.

Lillian looked around, uncertain of where they were. She looked over at Heather, who nodded.

"Yeah, this is mine."

Heather stood up, pulling Lillian to her feet.

"So where are we then?"

"This is… I think we're in Three Portlands."

"Did you spend a lot of time in creepy old hotels there?"

"No this is…" Heather blushed and trailed off, gathering her thoughts.

Lillian interjected, unable to contain her mischief. "Oh! Is this the hotel where you lost your virginity?"

"Lillian!"

"So then were are we?"

"An anomalous sens…"

Heather had trailed off and was looking pointedly at anywhere but Lillian. Lillian pushed the advantage.

"Sorry Heath, I couldn't hear that. Where did you say we were?"

Heather shot a glare at her.

"Fine. We're in an anomalous sensory experience club."

"I'm sorry, a what?" It wasn't very often that Lillian was left without anything to say on a topic, but Heather kept managing to find a way.

"Look, it's not like I came here often, just once or twice. Maybe five times, at most." Heather began protesting, holding her hands out in front of her in defense. "It's called Sense."

"Huh. Never heard of it." Lillian looked at Heather with an open gesture, asking her to continue.

"Really? I would have expected you to know it."

"Guess you're just kinkier than me Heather." Lillian smirked. "So what is this place?"

"Sense is this kind of weird theatre piece slash sensory play club slash experience? It's a lot to explain."

"Let's start with the 'sensory play club' part. What's that? Sounds hot."

Heather blushed.

"Yeah, I mean… it kind of is."

Heather started walking down the hallway, Lillian following close behind.

"So a sensory play club is a space you can go to experience different feelings or sensations? Think of like… a BDSM space or something like that."

"Oh, you are kinky!" Lillian couldn't help herself from teasing.

"Something like that. Anyways, Sense is an anomalous club in Three Portlands run by Psuedogenesis Productions, this weird theatre company that focuses on benign anomalous experiences. I went here a couple of times when I was in town based on a recommendation from a friend."

"So you came here by yourself? That's pretty brave. Do you usually go to weird anomalous theatre alone?"

"I… I swear I came with somebody else. But… I can't remember them, plus, there's nobody else here. So I guess I must have come alone."

"Maybe! These memories aren't perfect recreations, so there might be some differences based on what you felt was important. I want to know more about this club though, is it like… ghosts smacking you with a whip?"

"Not quite. Here, let me see if this room has anything in it."

Heather had stopped in front of a dusty red door, with a golden G shining amongst the dirt. She twisted the handle, and pushed the door open. Heather poked her head in, before taking a deep breath and nodding.

"Yeah. I remember this room."

Lillian began to move to enter, but was stopped by Heather.

"Before you go in, I think I should explain a bit more about Sense. Their whole thing is giving people a sensory experience that you can't feel anywhere else. They use memetics to give you feelings that they craft, designed to make you understand a foreign experience. Something that you'll never experience, anywhere else."

"Well if it's memetics, then I definitely need to see this." Lillian moved to walk into the room again, but Heather grabbed her arm.

"I need you to know — it's not just things like whips or hot air."

"So what is it then? A fucking gangbang?" Lillian was trying to get a laugh out of Heather, but Heather just frowned.

"If this is the room I think it is… no, maybe you should feel it first, and then I can tell you what it's about. If the memetics even work the same as they did in the real world."

Heather took her hand off of Lillian, and gestured for her to enter. Lillian paused for a second, but pressed on, determined to see what was behind the door that had impacted Heather so much.

Like the fear that comes when the ground falls away from underneath you, Lillian was disoriented. The first thing that Lillian felt was a chill inside of herself. Not like the chill you get from a cold breeze, or from forgetting your coat at home, but a deep, primal chill.

Like the feeling of ice water hitting your lungs.

Lillian wasn't in a hotel room anymore. She was alone, in an empty black void, surrounded by nothing. She wasn't standing anymore, but she wasn't swimming, falling or flying. She was just… still.

And then the pain started. A subtle pain, the sharp dagger of something within you that you know is wrong. Lillian gasped in shock, but nothing came in. There was no air in the room.

She tried to take another deep breath, but that was when she felt the chill again, coursing through her chest.

Maybe it was ice water filling her lungs. The freezing cold started to spread within her body, as she could feel the fluid sloshing around within her chest. She fumbled around, trying to cover her mouth, but it didn't seem to change anything. With each breath she took, she was drowning more and more.

Lillian refused to let the panic win, and began to analyze her body and mind. Okay. You know that you saw a cognitohazard when you entered the room. So something is just fucking with your brain. She tried to isolate the memeplex, but couldn't quite separate it — every time she would try and lock it away, she'd take a breath and the sensations would overwhelm her.

Right, that's not working. Am I in danger? She didn't think Heather would have let her go into somewhere she could die, but she needed to know for herself. She took a deep breath in, and focused on the sensation. The icy feeling returned — but there was no burning sensation, no signs that she wasn't getting enough oxygen to her lungs. Even if it felt like every breath she took was without air, she knew that at the very least, that wasn't correct.

Good, at least I'm not going to die here. Lillian relaxed her breathing — which, she would realize momentarily, was a mistake. She could feel as there was less and less space in her lungs, until they were entirely filled with water. She felt her body chilling from the inside out, the sensation ripping through her body like lightning between clouds. Her vision began to blur, darkness edging in from all sides.

Lillian was gasping for air, but nothing she did changed the fact; she felt like she was drowning, and no amount of air could do anything about that. As the darkness overwhelmed her eyes, she focused onto her hands, trying to keep herself anchored. The blackness encroached and swallowed her whole.

And then she was back, staring at an empty hotel room. On the bed was a child's drawing of a dark lake, drawn from a perspective of floating inside of it, with a hole overhead in a sheet of ice.

Lillian took a deep breath, and relished in the feeling of air filtering through her nose, filling her lungs. After a beat, she turned around and left the room. Heather was sitting on the ground, leaning against the wall. She looked up when she saw Lillian exit, and gave her a deep look of sympathy.

"Welcome back. Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I just… wasn't expecting that. What was that?"

"That was… sorry, I should have told you about it before I let you go in there, I'm so sorry, it must have been terrifying to not know what was going on." Heather looked up at her, clearly worried that she had fucked up. Lillian slid down onto the floor opposite her.

"Hey, it's not your fault I was me and pushed past. But if this is in your memory, that means you felt it too."

"Yeah. I did. My first time at Sense."

"So… what is it? Why did they make this?"

"This is… those were the last moments of a seven-year-old named Grace. Grace was the daughter of one of the founding members of Pseudogenesis Productions, the theatre company that runs this place. Grace fell into a frozen lake and drowned."

Heather wiped the tears away, before continuing.

"Her mother… they took their grief and they made this. Channeled all of the pain, fear and emotions into a cognitohazard. They made it so that people could understand what it feels like to… to just die unexpectedly. The chill as you realize what's happening. The surprise you feel is supposed to match the surprise Grace felt as she fell in."

"Fuck."

"Yeah. Fuck is right."

"Are all of the rooms so… fucked up?"

Heather shook her head.

"No, this is definitely the hardest room. They all have some sensation that is trying to help you understand an experience somebody went through, some positive, some negative. This is the hardest room in the hotel — I'm sorry, I should have told you."

Heather looked at Lillian, terrified that she had made a mistake. Lillian held her hand out, and Heather seized it, holding it tight.

"Listen. Heather. This place appeared because… well, because it meant something to you. I felt this because it was so important to you that you remembered every single aspect of it. Every emotion, every sensation, every second of it — you have locked in your head. I'm… honestly? I'm honored that I got to experience this beside you."

Lillian gave Heather's hand a squeeze.

"Thanks for saying that. You… you're one of the nicest people I've met."

Lillian laughed.

"Oh, I'm absolutely not. I'm an asshole. I just happen to like you a fair bit."

"Yeah. Me too."

The two women sat in silence for a minute, neither one of them letting go of the other's hand.

"So, what else is there in Sense? Want to show me around some more?"

Heather looked at Lillian and smiled.

"Yeah, I'd love to."

"I can't believe they had an entire room dedicated to different types of rug burns. Imagine the rooms they could make if they worked with Wettle."

Lillian was drifting through the hallways of Sense, having fallen for the idea just as much as Heather had the first time she had gone. Of course, this wasn't exactly the same; there was nobody but the two of them, where typically it was pretty packed. Still, Lillian turned a corner and Heather hurried after, worried that she might lose her.

"Hey! Hold on!"

"No can do Heath, time to check the next room."

Heather turned the corner as Lillian threw open another hotel door — and the world twisted around them as she did.

After the swirling images, light and patterns faded and stabilized, Heather took a look around. They were inside of a small café, full of people sitting on their laptops sipping on their lattes. Outside the windows you could hear the bustle of a busy city, cars blaring by, a dull afternoon light streaming in.

That smells… this smells like the coffee Lilli is always drinking. Heather mused. "Where are we?" Heather didn't recognize the place — it must be Lillian's memory.

Heather looked around the room until she found Lillian. She had never seen the look on her before, but it almost seemed like Lillian was feeling… wistful?

"We're… I think we're in my favorite coffee shop back in Toronto."

Lillian sat down on a cushioned bench and patted the seat beside her for Heather to join. As Heather sat down, two drinks materialized in front of them. Heather took a sip. A rose latte. She couldn't remember the last time she had one. They sat drinking in a comfortable silence, taking in the peaceful atmosphere of the hole-in-the-wall café. Peace was a scarcity in the Foundation.

"Did you come here often?"

"Not really? Just a handful of times… but whenever I did, I would spend hours just sitting. The first time I didn't even realize that it was a coffee shop. I had stepped under an awning to get out of some rain, when the smell of caffeine drew me inside. I didn't see the café at first, the outside door leading into a set of rickety old stairs, twisting through the old building like a maze, smaller businesses and rooms branching off like leaves. At the very top of the stairs was a wooden door with a small handmade sign that simply said 'Welcome'. I almost backed away, but then the door opened, and the smells rushed over me… I couldn't stop myself from entering at that point."

Heather couldn't help but smile. Lillian really does have a way with words. I guess you don't really notice when every other word is a curse word, but she speaks like a song.

"The weirdest part about this place is where it was. You wouldn't expect a coffee shop like this, especially given that it was next door to a strip club. Zanzibar. I used to watch the girls that went in and out and just… I was envious but I didn't know why."

"Wait. This was next to a strip club? So this was some sketchy part of town then?"

Lillian laughed "That's the crazy part, it's like… right in the middle of downtown? Surrounded by skyscrapers and office buildings and hundreds of thousands of condos. And then there's just… a strip club and a tiny little café."

Lillian relaxed and leaned her head back against the wall. "At least, it used to be there. I doubt the café is anymore."

Heather looked around. This place was almost like a magical rest stop in between the chaos of a city. "How could this place shut down?" she asked incredulously.

"That's the thing with Toronto — old buildings suck if you want to pack people into them like sardines. All of the pre-war buildings are dying now. Their gorgeous bricks are being replaced with glass and metal, crashing against each other in a fight for space."

Lillian shrugged.

"It's not like I can change anything about that, I'm just one woman. Even I can't change an entire city." She sighed in resignation.

"Do you miss it?"

"Miss what?"

"The city. Toronto. Do you ever wish you could be back there?"

"No. I can't miss the city, not the way it is now. I miss places like this." Lillian gestured around, "But places like this don't exist anymore. The hundreds of thousands of office drones and their need for modernity meant that the city swallowed them up whole." Lillian shrugged. "Shit. I'm sorry, I'm being a real mood killer."

"No, don't worry about it. I never really had anywhere like this to go. I guess I really didn't actually go anywhere by myself, I just… stayed home and did my own thing. Sometimes I worry that I've missed out on places like this." Heather bit her lip.

Lillian grabbed her attention with just a look, the intensity behind her gaze drawing her in.

"Hey. How about we go find a café next weekend? Just you and me. We'll find a way and we won't stop until you've had the café experience of your dreams."

Heather grinned. "Did you just ask me out on a coffee date? Lillian, I can't believe how bold you're being."

Lillian rolled her eyes. "You haven't seen bold yet, trust me. So, is it a date?" Heather wasn't sure, but it almost seemed like there was a hint of anxiety in Lillian's question. But that couldn't be right, could it?

"Yeah. It's a date."

Heather knew in that moment, when she saw Lillian's beaming smile in response, that she would do anything in her power to see it again and again.

The two women spent a few hours sitting in the coffee shop, chatting about their lives and the different places they'd lived. Time didn't pass the same in the shared hallucinations — so when the light changed to dusk, they both knew that something was shifting again.

Before either of them could move, they were sitting on a couch, in a living room. It wasn't unlike a Foundation dormitory — actually it was almost as sterile.

"Is this your memory?" Lillian asked.

"Yeah. This is my first apartment. Or, my first apartment I had alone."

Lillian looked around the room. The furniture was bland, beige and grey filling the space. There were almost no decorations, and the more Lillian looked, the less detail she saw. Books had no words on their spines. DVD cases were blank, picture frames missing the pictures inside of them. Funnily enough, the blandness was really starting to remind her of a basic Foundation dormitory.

"No offense Heath, but you're an awful decorator." Lillian teased the woman as she continued looking around the room. It's almost like there's not a single piece of Heather in here.

"Yeah, well, I didn't decorate it." Heather had stood up and was looking through the book shelf. Lillian peeked over her shoulder as she flipped through the volumes.

The pages are blank. Odd.

"You didn't decorate?"

"No, I had it in my head that I wouldn't really be using this place much anyways, considering I planned on spending so much time at school? This was where I moved into right before my last year of undergrad, and it was my first time living alone." Heather gave up on the books, and started to check the cupboards as she spoke. "I didn't know how to decorate an apartment, let alone buy furniture, so I rented."

"You rented furniture?"

"Yeah. I rented everything you see in here. Not the books, but… I don't know why they're all empty. I know I had real books on my shelf when I lived here."

Lillian shrugged. "Drugs?"

"Yeah. Probably just drugs."

"So you rented your furniture."

"Yeah, I got it all from this company, I didn't even choose the color or style, I just told them how many rooms my apartment was, and on the day I moved in, they showed up and set it all up." Heather laughed to herself. "I can't believe I lived like this for an entire year."

"Honestly? Neither can I. This is… I won't lie, I've seen containment cells with more character than this apartment. Didn't it bother you, living in a blank slate?" Lillian had started looking for any aspect of Heather in the entire apartment, but hadn't found a single speck.

"I guess… I wasn't really thinking about that? I had just gotten out of… I didn't even know how to live for myself, you know? I was barely coming to terms with my gender, pushing that down and out of the way, all the while I tried to keep busy. This was just a place to sleep and eat, nothing else." Heather shared a sad look with Lillian. "Honestly, every time I tried to think about changing something, I would spiral out and just decide that it wasn't worth the hassle. So I would just put it off. Kick it down the road. Worry about it later, once I'd figured things out more."

"Did you figure things out more?"

"Sure, when I realized I was a girl, things started to make a lot more sense."

Lillian knew in an instant what Heather meant. "You mean how the things that you hated, suddenly, you knew why?"

"Exactly! Or like, suddenly it makes sense why you hate looking at mirrors or clothes or pictures of yourself, and you're not just some weirdo who doesn't give a shit about your appearance. Turns out, you really do care, but it just felt…"

"Out of reach?"

"Yeah. Like it was impossible for me to ever have."

"Hey, for what it's worth? I think you definitely have it now."

"Thanks Lillian. That… it's really nice to be able to talk to somebody else who understands what it was like."

Lillian sat down, having given up her hunt for anything that wasn't bland. "I don't ever really get the chance to talk about this either. I mostly just run away or run past it. Dwelling on this stuff isn't really productive when you're facing down memetic terrors or GOIs trying to kill you."

"Well you can talk to me any time, you know that, right?" Heather was looking at her with big eyes, clearly on the brink of tears, overwhelmed by their history.

Lillian tussled Heather's hair, messing it up. "Thanks Heath, I appreciate that."

Heather's response dripped with sarcasm as she tried to fix her hair. "Yeah, anytime, boss."

Lillian decided that the question she'd been turning over in her mind had baked for long enough, and given that she didn't have a solution, she just asked. "Okay, so I've turned your apartment upside down, and I really need to ask you."

"Sure, what's up?"

"Where the hell is your stuff? I mean like, anything other than the boring furniture? Your books? Blank. DVD cases are empty, picture frames have nothing in them, there's no art, there's no keepsakes, it's… fuck, it's sterile."

"Yeah." Heather was silent. "I… I don't know."

"You don't know?"

"I had things! My books had words, I had pictures, I had decorations, junk, clutter, everything! But… none of it's here. I've been trying to think, and I can't even remember what any of this used to look like other than the bland furniture. Is that part of the drugs?"

Lillian shook her head. "No. If anything, the cocktail I made should help you remember the details, fill in the blanks with your subconscious, grab the pieces from the noosphere and make it real. It's weird that this is so… empty. What do you remember?"

Heather started focusing, making an adorable face — at least Lillian thought so. After a minute, Heather spoke. "I… I can't remember anything. Not about this apartment. All I know is what we can see."

"That's… I don't know. I have my eidetic memory, so I can't really provide a useful perspective. Sorry." Lillian shot her a look of sympathy. Heather kept thinking, until Lillian saw a realization cross her mind.

"Oh! I do remember something?"

"What's that?"

"I remember the name of the company I rented my furniture from! Maybe I can only remember stuff related to that?"

"Maybe." Lillian thought. "What was the name of the company?"

"Secondary Chartered Possession Rentals — I remember because I thought the name was insane, but they had good prices, so I went with them."

"Hey, Heather?"

"Yeah Lillian?"

"I think you rented your furniture from a Foundation front."

"There's no way I… FUCK YOU'RE RIGHT."

The two women were standing in front of a bathroom mirror, surrounded by a black void on either side. The vanity was porcelain white, just barely large enough for the two of them to stand in front.

Heather broke the silence first. "Hey Lillian, how did we get here?"

Lillian shook her head. "I don't know. I guess we shifted again."

The two women looked around for any details that they could grab onto, but it escaped them both.

"I don't know if this is my memory, I can't see anything I remember."

"I don't recognize this either, which means it's definitely not my memory." Lillian gestured at her head. Right, her magic memory. Try not to get too jealous Heather. she thought to herself.

"Maybe this is… our memory then?"

"A fusion? It could be. But where are we?"

As the two scanned the small mirror and vanity, searching for anything that might tell them where they were. In unison, they both saw a pill bottle appear. It had a name written, but it had been redacted with a sharpie. You couldn't really tell what it said underneath the marker, but both women recognized the pill instantly.

"This must be the—"

"—first time I took estrogen."

Lillian and Heather looked at each other, pausing as the understanding coursed through them.

"So this is the first time… no, the combined memories of the first times we started HRT?" Heather asked?

"I think so. The moment that we both… let ourselves be who we really were."

Heather sat down against the cold ceramic, leaning against it for support. "I don't really think back about it that much, I know some people have these great, bright, happy memories about their first days on HRT. The first step into a new future."

She looked around at the dark void that surrounded them, threatening to engulf them.

"I guess you were more like me though?" Heather asked.

"I think so. I didn't feel confident about it, I was scared shitless. I knew it was the only thing that I could do, the only thing that made sense. But it was more like…"

"Like your only choice? Between this or… death?"

"Yeah."

The pallor of the moment hung heavily in the air as both women remembered what it had been like for them. The desperation for a solution, the desire, no, the need for something to change. This wasn't a celebration, this was a last ditch effort.

Heather continued. "I knew that I was a girl. I knew that I wanted to start HRT. But I couldn't shake the fear that I was a liar. An imposter. Just playing along, worried that if I stopped moving then I'd realize that I was nothing."

"I know what you mean. They always show it as this huge celebration, this moment of triumph, a culmination of every dream and desire that you've been having since you realized that you might not be the right gender." Lillian scoffed. "But they don't show what it feels like to fight to even be recognized by doctors. To have to argue for yourself over and over and over again, until finally they decide that you're not lying to them, because obviously, people lie all the time about being transgender."

Heather laughed. "Nobody really talks about that moment. This moment. When you're in the bathroom, by yourself, just… terrified of taking your first dose. Scared because you know that this is a point of no return. That when you do this, there's no going back, and you've doomed yourself to an existence of survival, fighting against idiots, pushing to be yourself in a world that didn't want you to have that."

"Hey. This is different though."

"Why's that?"

"You're not alone. I'm not alone. We're here, together."

Suddenly, the darkness didn't seem so oppressive. Heather pulled herself up, holding out a hand for Lillian to grab. The two women stood together, in front of the mirror, staring into it. Neither could take their eyes off of the other's reflection, though, unable to express how each saw such transcendent beauty that had been forged by the other through endless fighting, toil and effort.

They each took a pill in their hands, and swallowed.

They were back in Lillian's dorm, at least, as far as Heather could tell.

"Are we done?" Heather asked, the uncertainty evident in her tone.

Lillian shook her head. "I think we're done the major trip, but we still have to come down fully. You're going to be feeling weird for a while longer."

"Where's the bathroom?"

Lillian gestured to a closed door.

"Same as your dorm, just through the bedroom, on the right."

"Right. Thanks."

Heather walked across the unit and stopped in front of the bedroom door. Logically, she knew that she could enter, she did just ask about it. But part of her hesitated. Are you really about to go into Lillian's bedroom?

The curious part of her overruled that fear — she needed to see what Lillian's bedroom looked like.

Pushing the door open, Heather walked in and immediately got lost. Visually, that is.

Lillian liked to wear dazzle coats that were messier than others. The more complex the patterns, the more overlapping memetic arrays, the more vaguely annoying effects caused by staring at them, the better.

Lillian's room was like the dazzle coat to end all dazzle coats.

Heather could tell that it had at one point resembled the Foundation standard dormitory bedroom, but Lillian had made it her own. There was an eclectic collection of furniture filling the room. A four-poster bed, hutches and cabinets of curiosities, a chair covered in all of Lillian's dazzle coats, stacked up in a delicate balancing act. Everything was chaotic and it pulled Heather in.

She would start looking at a single object, but then her eye would be caught by a trinket, so she'd turn her gaze — but she would quickly get distracted following a parallel line in the wall into a different fixture or painting or display that Lillian had set up. Looking around this space, Heather could see Lillian everywhere. It felt as if each item was placed hyper-intentionally, creating a network of ideas, filling the room. They look like the foundational lines for a memeplex. And that was when Heather realized something.

Lillian Lillihammer's bedroom was a memeplex. Not a functioning cognitohazard, mind you, but such a careful arrangement of objects, items, colors, patterns and ephemera, that if you abstracted everything — it was a map, detailing who Lillian was.

If somebody were to analyze every inch of this room, they would know Lillian in a way that nobody else could. Heather took a second to take it in. After a beat, she realized that, at some point, she must have lain down in the bed. Heather was gazing up at the ceiling, tracing the asymmetrical lines, when a voice broke her reverie.

"I really didn't think it would be this easy to get you into my bed."

Heather looked over, and watched as Lillian gracefully moved through the clutter of her room, dancing through the maze, floating down beside her onto the bed. Heather could feel the mattress shift as Lillian sat on the plush duvet, just inches away from her. Heather was speechless.

Lillian continued. "Are you alright? Most people wait for me before spending this long in my bedroom."

"Yeah. I'm okay. I was just… getting lost in your room."

Heather turned onto her side, propping herself up and facing Lillian. Lillian flopped backwards onto the bed, before matching Heather's pose, holding herself up lazily with her elbow. Heather couldn't take her eyes off of Lillian.

"You seem to do that a lot Heath. First you got lost in my coat pattern, then you got lost in my room. What's next? Are you going to get lost in my eyes too?"

Heather looked at Lillian's eyes, and recognized the teasing flame staring back at her. I mean… is she offering?

"Well it's not my fault. You're just so damn interesting, it's hard not to get distracted."

Heather wasn't quite sure what part of her had said that — but she liked how it made her feel to see Lillian blush. She really liked that.

Heather pushed the advantage. "So. Does every 'Lillihammer Test' end up in your bed, or am I a special case?"

Lillian laughed — god, Heather loved how she trilled, sounding like she knew thousands of secrets more than you ever would.

"So. I'm not sure how to say this but—"

"Oh my god, Lillian, do they all end in your bed?"

"Statistically? Yes." Lillian hesitated. "But that's because I've never done one before."

"What? You've never drugged your coworkers before? I'm so stunned."

"I didn't say that." Lillian grinned like the Cheshire Cat. "But yes, obviously, the Lillihammer Test is a joke. I ask new M&C recruits if they are willing to do it so that I can see how gullible they are. If they want to do it, then I know I can't trust them to call me out on a bad or dangerous idea, and I definitely don't want them working with me."

"So… does that mean you're firing me? Seeing as I fell for it." Heather pretended to be scared, barely hiding her amusement.

"Nah, that's too much paperwork. Plus, you're different Heather. You're this breath of fresh air — sure I hear people talking in the halls that I'm just trying to make you into the next me, but I'm not. I could never do that."

Lillian reached her hand out, but fumbled, shifting to keep her balance on the bed. As a result, the two had slid even closer together, tantalizingly close.

Lillian recovered, speaking softer now. "You have a completely different way of looking at memetics than I do. You talk in a way where I really believe that you can make a difference here. At Site-43, in the Foundation. Fuck, maybe even in the Noosphere."

"Stop. You're going to make me blush." Heather was already blushing when she said that. She reached her hand out, fingers intertwining with Lillian's.

"I know a way to make you blush that's a lot more fun." Lillian's grip tightened, as she slowly began leaning in further towards Heather. "I just… I don't want to cross a line. Professional, or otherwise."

Heather took the initiative, slowly closing the distance between them, drifting closer and closer, before stopping, just inches from Lillian's face.

"I don't mind breaking the rules for you."

Heather felt Lillian's breath accelerate, mixing with hers as they hovered, almost touching, barely able to see each other anymore.

"In that case, I'd be happy to make you blush a lot more."

The two embraced, the longing, passion and tension all releasing at once. They grabbed at each other firmly, desperately pulling the other closer, letting the rest of the world fall away — all that mattered was the two of them, in that moment, in that bed.

Despite their gasps for air, awkward kisses and the overwhelming anxiety/excitement of doing something taboo, both Heather and Lillian lost themselves in one another. The delicate dance that they had been doing around each other was finally finished, and they could let their urges take over. Lillian kissed Heather's collarbone, looking up, her eyes nonverbally asking if it was okay to go further. And right as Heather was going to consent, an errant thought entered her mind.

Why did Lillian's memories have so much detail while mine were empty? Where were all of the people in my visions?

Lillian instantly saw the change in Heather's demeanor and stopped.

"I should never have crossed that line — I'm your boss, I should have never le—"

"No, sorry. Hush. It's not that. I wanted this. I still want this."

Lillian let out a sigh of relief.

"I just realized something. About the different memories we saw. All of your memories were perfect, obviously, with your memory being what it is. But mine were…"

"Anomalously empty." Lillian came to the realization at the same time.

"Yeah. No people. No words in the books. Hell, when we were in the HRT memory it was almost like mine corrupted yours—"

"Into some level of abstraction. Huh."

The women both sat up, the moment fading, their passion having been replaced with worry. The two women were lost in their thoughts, trying to analyze the day's events, seeing if there was anything hidden that they had missed. Heather broke the silence first.

"What if my Name Changer woke 'absence', that thoughtform entity, back up? What if… what if somehow the same thing that happens to SCP-8688-1 instances has starting happening to me. To my memories, corrupting them, consuming… consuming the parts that don't matter. That aren't central to the memetic, noospheric core. What if I end up like everybody else?"

Heather looked to Lillian in desperation — surely, the older woman would have an answer, some reassurance that she knew what to do.

"Heather I won't let that happen. We're going to figure this out, okay? You and me. Together."

Heather wasn't sure if Lillian had an answer right now, but she knew that she could trust that Lillian wouldn't give up until she did.

"Okay. Thank you."

Unless she realizes the answer too late.

As if Lillian could read Heather's mind, she replied. "Heath, I'm not just going to let you disappear."

"Promise?"

Lillian laughed.

"Yeah. I promise."

Following Heather's realization, it was too awkward to continue, instead moving back into Lillian's living room, coming down to the comforting, familiar, anomalous mess that was any show made by VKTM.

Hours later, the TV had gone into sleep mode, as the two women sat on the ground across from each other, the coffee table laden with candles between them.

"So I never really figured out how the Foundation found out about me. I just know that one day I was getting ready to go into a graduate semiotics program, and the next I was explaining to an MTF agent how I had accidentally created, distributed, and then contained a cognitohazard in a single afternoon."

Heather yawned, stretching her arms, shirt rising up just a bit as she did. Lillian caught herself staring at Heather's exposed midriff, before pulling her eyes away. Even though they hadn't gone any further, Lillian couldn't help but stare and imagine what if.

"Oh wow. It's almost 1am, I didn't realize how late it was. I guess drugs really do mess with your sense of time." Heather chuckled. "By the way, thanks again for today. I enjoyed the Lillihammer Test, despite, you know, everything."

That everything hung in the middle of the room like a ton of bricks.

Lillian shrugged. "Hey, it's M&C. We deal with shit like this every day, right? I had a really good time." Lillian paused, looking unsure of what to say next. "I should probably let you get back to your dorm though, I didn't mean to keep you here all day."

Lillian looked at her, but Heather wasn't making any movements to get up.

"Is it… sorry, I know I've been a lot today. But would it be alright if I… can I stay the night?"

"Sure. I can take the couch, and you can have the bedroom. Does that work?"

Heather stared back at Lillian, a longing in her eyes, the passion from earlier rearing its head.

"I mean, I'd rather not sleep alone. If you don't mind, that is."

"No. I don't mind at all."

Ancient thought monsters and the rest of the Foundation could wait. Neither woman was going to let anything else stop them from getting what they wanted.

SCP-8688

Forgotten Memories

Don't Let Me Forget