"Breathe out."
Sara did as told and the reassuring mixture of her perfectly regular heartbeat mingled with the air leaving her lungs sounded in James' stethoscope. He would never tell his daughter, but he had always harbored a fear that the cardiac arrest that killed her mother was indicative of a genetic heart problem. However, today, like every day in the past that he had checked it, every aspect of her respiratory system sounded wonderfully healthy. Catherine's death had been a tragic but completely unpreventable event caused by a long and difficult labor. He wasn't sure whether this comforted or worried him further.
"Everything sounds just fine," he told her, setting the stethoscope around his shoulders and surveying her for several seconds. "I'm proud of you, you know. It's a big day."
"Don't remind me," Sara groaned. "I already feel like I'm going to throw up from nerves as is, Dad."
"Look, you didn't hear it from me, but the G.O.A.T isn't a big deal-"
"It determines my entire future!"
"A future which ultimately is up to you. Yes, you have to take the test, but you can talk to Mr. Brotch and get what you want."
"I want to work with you. You already taught me first aid."
James grinned and laid a hand on her shoulder. He could think of few things more ideal than the opportunity to work alongside his daughter for the next few years. Then, once he left, she would be safe. The Overseer would never risk injuring the Vault doctor.
"That would be wonderful, honey. But you still have to take the test."
"I know," she replied, hopping down from the examination table. "Do you think I really can choose to work with you and Jonas?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," he joked, winking.
"I just don't want to be stuck here for the rest of my life doing something I hate. I know we're all born here, but do we all have to die in the Vault? I've been reading about radiation in the library, and I think the levels outside wouldn't be nearly high enough to inhibit human life and growth. Surely, sometime soon we could go out?"
James wanted to scream "YES!" then tell her everything of the wonders beyond that ten-ton steel door that locked them inside the Vault and take her with him and flee into the light at that very moment. But he could not. The less she knew when he left in the next two or three years, the better off she would be.
"It won't do you any good to go around asking questions like that," he told her. "You especially don't want the Overseer to hear you say that."
"Yeah, I guess," Sara conceded, sadly. "Well, I've got to go take this stupid test."
He reached out and pulled her into a hug. The top of her head now came up to his lips, and he kissed the mass of wavy red hair. He could not believe she was sixteen years old. But now was not the time for parental nostalgia for the times when he could hold her entire nine-pound body in his arms. She had a test to take, and he had appointments to keep.
"I love you, Dad."
"I love you too, sweetheart."
He was so grateful that Sara's teenage years had not changed her into some raging, hormonal young adult he did not know. He had watched several of his fellow parents struggle to understand and manage their unruly teenagers: the Gomezes had helplessly watched Freddie spiral into one of the worst cases of Vault Depressive Syndrome James had seen or read about in his time in the Vault, the Hannon's son Paul had joined Butch's little gang which was causing far more trouble than anyone could have imagined, and Amata was prone to screaming outbursts around her father. James suspected this last case had more to do with the Overseer's tyranny than Amata, but he did not voice this opinion to anyone but Jonas.
Sara, with the exception of a few moody spells, had remained a levelheaded kid. He was also grateful that she not only tolerated but also sought out his affection. To most of her peers, the idea of hugging a parent in public (or at all) seemed worse than weathering the nuclear apocalypse of 2077 outside of a Vault. Sometimes he worried that she was not becoming independent enough, but who did she have to spend time with other than him and Jonas? Amata had slowly been drifting away from her in the past few years, and Freddie was only a good companion when he wasn't lying in bed immobilized by depression.
"Go ace that G.O.A.T," he told her, ruffling her ponytail, as he broke apart their hug.
"See you in a little while."
Luckily, James only had a few minutes between Sara's departure and his appointment with Stanley who had contracted a nasty head cold, so he was left with very little time to worry about how the test was going. After sending the technician back to his quarters with some decongestants and strict orders to take it easy for a few days, he used the intercom to ask Jonas down in the basement if he would like to join James and Sara for a post-G.O.A.T. lunch. Jonas agreed to meet them, and so James was left to sit and worry.
He wasn't sure why she was so worried. The test was a joke, and everyone in the Vault knew it. If Sara wanted to be his assistant in the clinic, then she would be. Still, he hoped the G.O.A.T wouldn't tell her she would be better off as a garbage collector and crush her spirits. She was bright but easily discouraged.
He tried pacing, rearranging the contents of his desk drawers, even sterilizing his medical tools twice but nothing seemed to take his mind off his daughter just down the hallway in a classroom.
Needless to say, he was, however, not desperate enough to be grateful when there was a knock on the clinic door and Ellen DeLoria traipsed in. He was caught completely off guard though when he saw that she was doing something he'd never seen her do before: she was crying. Genuine concern rose in him.
"Ellen, what's wrong?" he asked.
"I'm so worried about all this trouble Butch is getting into!" she cried, wiping her eyes with the backs of her hands. Her words were clear and articulate. She was clearly sober and truly concerned. "I don't know what to do with him! He keeps getting into fights and picking on everyone."
"Here, come and sit." James laid a hand on her shoulder and guided her toward a chair. She plopped pitifully down into it as he pulled up a chair so he could sit across from her.
"I know I haven't done so great by him," confessed Ellen, "but I just feel like he's completely out of control at this point. I feel so helpless to fix the situation."
James tried to find words of comfort but could not think of any that wouldn't sound false. He could not reassure her that all kids were difficult as adolescents when his own daughter was not nor could he reassure her that none of this was her fault because all of it was.
"You're so lucky to have Sara," Ellen continued. "She's so kind and smart, just like you."
"Thank you," James replied, unable to come up with another response.
"Do you think he'll grow out of it?"
"I'm sure he will," James lied. He had absolutely no idea, but he supposed now was not the time to tell her this fact.
"I just feel so helpless," she repeated. "I've done everything wrong."
"No…" James began, but he could not bring himself to tell her she was not at fault.
"Do you think I could bring him in to talk to you? I know he and Sara have had problems in the past, but it would mean the world to me if you could try to find out what's bothering him. He won't talk to me at all."
James thought that he would actually rather eat his own arm than sit down and pretend to give a shit about Butch and his multitude of problems, but Ellen was so, so pitiful…
"Of course I'll try," he told her. "I don't know that I'll have any luck, but I'll try."
"Oh, thank you!"
And suddenly Ellen launched herself across the space between them and attached herself to his lips. His mind reeled and screamed NO, this was wrong and disgusting, but damn he had not touched a woman in almost seventeen years. The outline of Ellen's torso against her Vault jumpsuit was so perfectly delicate. If he could just touch her for two seconds…
Catherine and Sara both came flooding into his mind with sickening rapidity. It didn't matter that Catherine was long dead. She was still the only one for him. And the beautiful daughter she'd left him deserved far better than a father who cavorted around with the mother of the bully who beat her up on a regular basis.
"NO!" The roar left his mouth with considerable force, and he literally shoved her away from him. She staggered before turning to stare at him in horror. "How dare you come in here trying to get sympathy from me before you throw yourself at me. Have some dignity!"
"Catherine's dead, James!" Ellen shouted back at him. "And no matter how hard you try to deny it, she isn't coming back! What else do you have down here?"
"I have my daughter! And the joy she brings me every single day is worth more than any sleazy fling with you. GET. OUT."
He had never been this angry before. His own rage terrified him. He had never felt this way about anything or anyone, not even at the unfairness of Catherine's death or at Butch for punching Sara.
Ellen left in a huff as James fled into the sanctuary of his bedroom and slid the door shut behind him.
"I'm so sorry," he bawled to the photo of Catherine on his bedside cabinet. "I wish it was you here. I wish I'd died instead. Sara would be so much better off with you to look after her."
He had to go. He had to go now and finish the work at Project Purity. Sara would do better on her own than with a sorry excuse for a father like him.
Tap-tap-tap-tap.
"Dad?"
Tap-tap-tap-tap.
He became aware that someone was knocking on his door and opened his eyes. His arm lay outstretched in an awkward position, his palm rested against the photo frame. When had he fallen asleep?
"Dad? Are you okay? Can I come in?"
James shook himself awake and tried to compose his face.
"Of course you can." The door slid open and Sara stepped in, looking very concerned.
"Are you okay? I had to knock for a while. I was about to override the lock and barge in here."
"I'm sorry, sweetheart, I must have fallen asleep. I was so worried about your test that I couldn't think of anything else to do." A wide grin broke out on Sara's face.
"Well, you didn't need to worry. I'm officially your new assistant!"
Genuine joy spread through him, replacing, at least momentarily, all the feelings of guilt and self-hatred.
"That's wonderful. I'm so proud of you, honey."
Sara came over and sat down on the edge of his bed.
"Dad, you've been crying. Your eyes are all red and puffy."
"What? Oh no, I've just been sleeping."
"Don't lie. My eyes do the exact same thing when I cry." She gave him a weak grin. "We get more alike each day, don't we?"
"I guess we do."
"Were you missing Mom?"
"Yes." It was only half a lie.
"I think Mom's really proud of you," she told him. "You're the best doctor this Vault's ever had, and you're the best dad in the whole world."
"You think so?"
"I know so. I don't know why you doubt yourself so much. I wouldn't have anything without you."
"I wouldn't have anything without you either." It was true. She was everything. He had been a fool in a fit of emotion. He could not leave her yet. She had to be trained as a doctor, and the very thought of leaving her brought the familiar ache back into his chest.
"As much as I'd love to sit here and be all mushy with you, Dad, I'm absolutely starving."
James laughed in spite of himself.
"Why don't you page Jonas down in the basement and have him meet us for lunch then? We'll celebrate the new addition to our team."
"Do you think I'll be good at being your assistant?"
"Are you kidding? I'm getting the best assistant this Vault has ever had. Just don't tell Jonas I said that."
So Sara stepped out into the apartment to talk to Jonas via the intercom. James took another moment to rub the red out of his eyes and straighten his lab coat. He realized they'd have to find one to fit Sara too and pride swelled in him again.
The time for him to go was soon. But the proud smile Sara shot him as she talked to Jonas reminded him that he couldn't go now. Not just yet.