Disclaimer: I do not own the legal copyright to any media in the Bioshock franchise. I'm just a fangirl who has an often-played copy of the game (many tears have been shed because of this game) and an idea I thought would make a good story.
Author's note: This was beta-read by the amazing Storychan. Potential trigger warning for Fontaine's use of racial slurs, which are period typical and IC, but might bother readers.
-00000000-
Two weeks after Doctors Tenenbaum and Suchong had told him they were actually making progress in training his ace in the hole, Frank Fontaine sauntered down to Fontaine Futuristics. He needed to examine The Project. He'd been generous, giving the scientists two weeks to make more progress, and if The Project were a liability, it would be scrapped. They'd have to start over with another one of Ryan's mistresses.
Fontaine had those two working together on The Project because he knew they squabbled every time they had to collaborate. After all the shit they'd given him lately, it was only fair to stick them with a coworker that got on their nerves as much as they got on his, right? Heh. Entertainment, really, to watch them fight like dogs. It was too damn funny to not fuck with them like that, even if it did slow the project down. The Kraut bitch and Chinaman bastard kept arguing, so he had them working together more often than necessary at Fontaine Futuristics. Even more fucking hilarious? They couldn't complain about it. They'd get fired.
His receptionist, Lynette Jones, shot him a mild glower when she saw him coming in, making a beeline towards her. He kept expecting her to quit, but somehow, she still kept this job. Oh, how Frank loved pissing her off. She was one of the only people who didn't act like he was the boogeyman of Rapture itself. Rather refreshing after all the suck-ups and kiss-asses he dealt with.
"Hello, Mister Fontaine," she groaned, rolling her eyes. "Doctor Suchong is expecting you. He said, and I quote, 'Don't be wasting Suchong's valuable time.' The hell is that about?" She crossed her arms over her chest, upgrading the glower to a simmering glare.
"It ain't yer damn business, Nettie. Ya ain't paid to be questionin' why I do shit. Ya jus' do what I pay ya for. Now lemme into my lab so I can talk to 'em. They're workin' on an important project for me."
"I toldja a thousand times, my name's Lynette, you bastard!" Her right hand slammed forward onto her desk, sparking up with Electro Bolt.
"Gal, just lemme in to see the bastard. I gotta find out if this project's gonna be worth my while."
Lynette groaned, turning off her plasmid and buzzing him into the lab. That was a good gal.
Frank took the elevator into his lab, noticing that a rather rumpled-looking Doctor Suchong was glaring at him. "Fontaine, you sneaky son of bitch!" yelled Suchong. "Showing up unannounced, giving Suchong no warning! Suchong not ready!" He pushed up his glasses.
Ugh. Uppity chink bastard. Frank just smirked at the scientist. He drawled, "I told Nettie I was comin'. Ain't my fault if she didn't pass along the damn message. How's my project comin' along? Is the damn kid able to do weapons training yet?"
"Tch! Fontaine!" Suchong spat out a long string of insults in Chinese. Fontaine could distinctly make out the phrases goddamn you, Fontaine, you stupid son of a bitch and Fontaine, get your dick out of my ass and stop fucking me. Suchong said those things often enough in Chinese for Frank to pick up on what the bastard was telling him.
"You told Suchong to make Baby into sleeper agent in two years. Fontaine, you rush Suchong! Cannot work with demands! You want weapons training for Baby! Why is this a problem now? Suchong is conditioning Baby's mind so that Baby doesn't hate you when it follows orders."
"Daddy's here?" A tiny pair of hands clung tightly to Suchong's leg. Hell. That fuckin' kid picked a bad person to hide with. Suchong hated kids. It was why he'd been Fontaine's choice to condition the Little Sisters...and why Suchong was damned good at his job. The kid's voice sounded like it was five, and the hands matched, but Frank wasn't good at guessing the ages of children. He wondered what propaganda his puppeteers had told the kid. It was calling him daddy, of all things. Fuck. What did they tell it?
He didn't even know if it was a boy or a girl he'd gotten out of Operation: Death To Andrew Ryan. Honestly, he'd prefer a boy. Fontaine wouldn't have to take a soft approach with a boy the way he'd need to take with a weaker, more delicate girl. There was no way that a girl could be an effective sleeper agent. She'd have too much goddamned emotion getting in the way of all of Fontaine's plans.
"You. Baby. Go to weapons training. Now. Suchong not having time for Baby's shit. Suchong already have to deal with son of bitch Fontaine now. Cannot deal with son of bitch and little shit at same time."
"No! I wanna see my daddy! I wanna see Daddy! I heard lots about him, lots and lots! You and Mama Tenenbaum tell me so much about him!" Then the little shit let go of Suchong's leg and ran forward. Damn. The stupid kid wasn't really that obedient.
He'd only seen a tiny, pale pair of hands before the child came into his view. Now he could only stare at the child, feeling gobsmacked. Long, messy dark brown hair tied back into pigtails crudely tied with pink gingham ribbons. Big brown eyes. An oversized blue dress that looked like it came from one of the Little Sisters. No shoes or stockings. This wasn't the tough boy he'd paid for. Fontaine sighed. Well, the girl was Andrew Ryan's daughter. With those genes, she'd be one hell of a tough dame when she was grown to the right age, he supposed.
The girl hugged his leg, looking up at him with childish adoration akin to the way Little Sisters looked at Big Daddies. Christ. If she'd had blue eyes, she'd look just like Andrew Ryan. Her resemblance to the son of a bitch was uncanny. "Hi, Daddy!" She beamed at him, like he was the most important person in her life. Damn. What the hell was he supposed to do with a needy brat like this? Wait, he thought. Hmm… He could really use that adoration to his advantage.
"What's yer name, doll?"
-00000000-
She cocked her head, clinging tighter to Daddy's leg. She didn't want to stop touching him. He looked just like the pictures that she'd seen of him. Maybe he'd take her to Fleet Hall, so they could hear Sander Cohen's music play. She liked Sander Cohen's music. It was on the radio all the time, cause Mama Tenenbaum and Papa Suchong only played Rapture Radio's radio show and music channels. No news, no news for her. "Daddy? What do you mean, what's my name?"
"I said, what's yer name, doll? This is yer daddy askin' ya. Don' be shy. I ain't gonna hurt you." It was a lie, but if he acted like her savior or whatever, he'd earn her trust.
Letting go of Daddy's leg, the girl scooted back and reached out her small hand towards him. "I don't have one. Everyone else has a name. Papa Suchong and Mama Tenenbaum and you have names, and so do the lab assistants that draw my blood every Monday. I don't have a name. I'm called Baby, or Zee Subject, or The Little Shit."
"Well, we gotta give ya a name,. How's about…." Fuck, I don't know, Frank thought. He was going to name the kid "Jack," if it were a boy, just because it was the simplest name out there. A good name for a dog, which was basically what he was building here. What was the chick equivalent of Jack? "Jacqueline", he decided. "Jacqueline Frances Ryan." The "Frances" bit was after him, and the "Ryan," of course, was after the bastard she was going to kill for him.
The little girl let the name he gave her sink in like it were a mantra. She had a name! A name! Jacqueline Frances Ryan. That was a long long name, and it was hers, and she loved it. Daddy gave it to her! Daddy gave her a name! She clapped her hands together, smiling big at him.
Here was Daddy, right in front of her. She'd been waiting to meet him so long, and it was better than she'd ever imagined. Daddy was a hero. Daddy was a man of the people, and she didn't know what that meant, but it was a Good Thing. He was the smartest, most wonderful daddy in the world. Daddy loved her, and he'd come here to see her today. She was so happy! This was the best day in her life!
"Okay! I have a name! I have a name! Tell them I have a name! Tell them my name, Daddy! Tell Mama Tenenbaum and Papa Suchong my name!" She smiled up at him, running over and hugging his legs. "I love it! I love it! Oh, Daddy, I love you! I wanna be your good girl, Daddy, please let me be your good girl!" She giggled and hugged him as tight as she could. He was the best! He named her, and nobody else would name her, and it felt great to be wanted by Daddy.
He made a noise that sounded like those sighs that Papa Suchong made when he was upset with her. Did she do something bad? The girl backed up. She didn't want to upset Daddy! No! Jacqueline couldn't upset Daddy! He named her and he loved her!
Tears came to her eyes, and she whimpered, holding her hands above her head. What if he hit her? What if he didn't want her anymore? "Daddy? Was I bad? Good girls gather, gather, gather," she sang. "That's what the Little Sisters say. Sometimes, Papa Suchong has them and me do things together. We have 'similar mental conditioning needs,' that's what Papa Suchong says. Most the time, we pull levers and get chips and candy when we pull the right one. And we get shocked when we pull the wrong one! Owwwie! I don't like getting shocked, Daddy!" She sounded out the words Papa Suchong had said, not really knowing why he talked like that. He used a lot of big words.
She started crying when she saw Daddy's face. Daddy looked sad-angry, the way Mama Tenenbaum did whenever she put electrodes on Jacqueline and gave her the "nutrition shots" that Papa Suchong had made special for her because she was a special special girl. Daddy was sad! Daddy shouldn't be sad! He had her, and she loved him!
"That ain't right. C'mere, Jacqueline." He picked her up and put her on his shoulders, the way Little Sisters got to be on the shoulders of their Daddies. She squealed and giggled, kicking her heels against him as he walked. Daddy had her, and she was safe, and she trusted he wouldn't let her fall.
They went to see Papa Suchong. Jacqueline didn't know why. Daddy knew what he wanted to say. She whimpered and tried to climb onto Daddy's back so that Papa Suchong couldn't see her. "He already gave me my shots, Daddy!" Daddy had his arm on her, keeping her on his shoulder, and she reached out to grab his big hand.
"What does Fontaine want this time? Suchong is busy. You were so concerned with Baby's weapons training. The little shit will bring you there. I think results will please you." Papa Suchong looked like he was working on a formula. Another one for her! She got lots of formulas to make her grow right, and she had to take the shots in both arms. The needles didn't hurt much. They were sharp.
"Lookit the fuckin' kid. She loves me! You were usin' them Little Sister conditioning techniques on little Jacqueline, right? Heh. Makin' her go into that—eh, what's it called?— Skinner box?—an' givin' her a treat when she pulled a lever with my mug on it, shockin' her when she don't. Eh, you can stop now. She already can't get enough of me. Can you, Jacqueline?"
Daddy used a bad word! Jacqueline giggled, climbing down Daddy's back and jumping to the floor. She grabbed Daddy's hand, clinging to it and smiling up at him. "I love you, Daddy. You're the smartest, strongest, bravest daddy in the world. I'm gonna protect you forever with my wrench and my gun, Daddy. I'm not that good with them, but I'll get better. I promise, Daddy! I promise!" She needed to get to the weapons training room. Had to. Had to. Needed to show her skills to Daddy. So he could see how well she could protect him.
"Yes. Mental conditioning is working. Fontaine. You showing up helped with conditioning. She knows you now. What else do you need? Suchong is busy working on growth formula for little shit. We make her the right age so that in two years, Baby is twenty-one."
They were talking about her. She knew. She wasn't good enough. She squeezed Daddy's hand tight, tight, tight, gripping it with all her strength. Jacqueline had been told she was really strong before. She'd bring Daddy to the weapons training room, and she'd show him what she could do.
Daddy snorted. "She's too skinny. Look at the damn dress she's wearin', ya stupid chink. It's too big on her." Daddy held up her arm. Jacqueline got nutrition shots three times a day unless it was Zappy Box Fun Time with the Little Sisters, and then she got chips and chocolate. The Little Sisters all seemed to weigh more than she did. They ate food. They didn't get nutrition shots the way Jacqueline did. But Jacqueline was a special, special little girl.
"The girl's all skin an' bones, an' she ain't got any baby fat on her. What the hell've you been feedin' her? She ain't gonna grow up properly like this."
Papa Suchong glared. It was his angry glare. The I-don't-have-time-for-your-shit glare. "That the smallest size dress for little girls this age in store! We go to sneak around buying clothes for Baby nobody know about, so what you expect? Baby is fine. She has nutrition formula given to her in shots. Why is this problem, Fontaine? Suchong made sure Baby is getting all the nutrition she needs."
"She needs normal food. Ain't normal for a child ta be this skinny. What kinda fucking results are you expecting me to get from this little shrimp?"
Oh no! This was awful! Jacqueline could tell that an Argument was starting. She'd gotten good at avoiding Arguments. Mama Tenenbaum and Papa Suchong had several Arguments every week. Usually about her. She let go of Daddy's hand and ran towards the weapons training room..
-00000000-
She picked up a pistol. Looked at the paper target shaped like a man. Loaded her ammunition the way she'd been shown. Hands shaking, she lined up the gun, looked down its sights, and aimed for the knees. She never missed the knees.
Bang! Bang! Bang! One of her shots went wide. The other two hit the kneecaps just like it was supposed to. Not good enough. Her hands still shook. She could usually handle the pistol's recoil and size, but it seemed too heavy now. Her head throbbed. She couldn't stop until she'd emptied the magazine. The pistol's magazine held six shots. Jacqueline backed up and aimed for the heart this time. Bang! Bang! Bang! Her shots hit the target...better than she usually did. Yay! She dropped the pistol, not wanting to hold it anymore. But she had to use her wrench now.
Jacqueline picked up her big wrench. She ran up swinging at the next target, screaming and shrieking as she pretended that it was a Bad Man who wanted to hurt Daddy. Nobody hurt her Daddy! Nobody! She'd kill them first!
Her arms felt heavy.
She'd gotten only one of her nutrition shots today. Something was wrong. She got one at six in the morning, one at twelve in the afternoon, and one at six in the night. The clock in training said it was twelve forty-five.
Something was wrong with her. She didn't feel good. Her head hurt, her arms were heavy, and her legs wanted to fall down. She kept swinging her wrench. Had to. Had to keep swinging her wrench, so she could show Daddy what a good job she was doing. The wrench was easy. The pistol had recoil. She was just a little girl.
Her body wanted to fall. No! No! When Daddy came in here, he'd see that she was a good girl for training! Good girls were obedient and got rewarded! Jacqueline had to be a good girl. If she wasn't a good girl, Daddy wouldn't love her. He'd hate her. She shrieked, loud, and swung the wrench as hard as she could at that stupid stupid target. Her body hurting was not normal.
Jacqueline fell, still gripping her wrench with her right hand. There was a thunk as she hit the floor. She yawned. Her eyes were all heavy, and she closed them. Letting herself go to sleep. Jacqueline could fall asleep anywhere when she was tired.
-00000000-
She woke up in a soft bed, blankets tucked around her. Nice, soft, cozy blankets. Why did she have a soft bed and lots of blankets? She had a cot. She usually woke up in the cot. It wasn't a nice cot like this bed was nice. She blinked. Was she dreaming? This wasn't her cot. This wasn't her room. She didn't even have a room. She had a corner where her cot had been put and a blanket that wasn't soft. It was scratchy and made her itch.
She wasn't dreaming. The room didn't go away. Its walls were a soft, light blue. So were the blankets.
Someone took her! "Daddy! Daddy!" she screamed as loud as she could, hoping that her brave, strong daddy would come to save her. "Daddy! Where am I? Daddy!"
He didn't come. Jacqueline whimpered. Daddy didn't love her anymore. Cause she failed at shooting the target perfectly. She sniffled. Tears came to her eyes, and she closed them. No. She couldn't cry. Crying was bad girl behavior. Good girls didn't cry. Papa Suchong didn't like it when her or the Little Sisters cried. He yelled at them.
She could smell something that made her open her eyes, and she didn't know what it was, but it smelled really good. Footsteps came close to her, and so did the good smell. She had pillows. She sat up on the pillows, sniffing the air and drooling a bit. What was it? She'd never smelled anything like it before. Daddy entered the room with a tray and the good-smelling thing, and Jacqueline smiled. Daddy! He brought her here! This must be where her daddy lived! Daddy had such a nice place to live! It had soft beds that weren't pushed into corners, and blankets that didn't make her itchy. The rest of Daddy's place must be just as nice.
"Daddy? What's that? It smells really good. Is it ny nutrition shot? Why does it smell this good? Nutrition shots never smell like anything."
Daddy walked up to her bed and smiled at her. "Mornin', Jacqueline. I made ya some breakfast."