She was not a tender handed woman their Tennenbaum.

"Ouch! Christ, doc! Leave me to the bleedin' splicers, they'd be gentler!" Atlas groused again as Tenenbaum poked and prodded at his burns. Truth be told they were giving him far less grief than earlier that day. But now he no longer had adrenaline coursing through him and a desperate need to survive, he was welcome to complain.

Unimpressed, Tenenbaum fixed Atlas with a steely look and he half expected her to pinch just to see if he'd squeal. Call it an experiment.

Despite her displeasure with his yipping and their long running poor relationship - Tenenbaum was quieter than he'd expected. She'd always been focused on her work, but she seemed to be placing a great deal of focus on her poking and prodding. She took to mending him with all the intent of someone who wished to harm. Atlas was not particularly optimistic.

More than anything he just wished she would speak.

The silence was no friend of his currently, unable to guess what was happening in her skull, but more than capable of conjuring up horrible imagined thoughts for her to harbour. Jaw clenched Atlas tried to focus on anything else besides the woman tending to his myriad of scars.

There was only so many times a person could hear the phrase 'be careful what you wish for', and still fail to take in that message. When Tenenbaum spoke again he got more than what he'd wanted.

"You are quite fortunate." She remarked and Atlas scoffed.

"How do you figure? Fortunate ain't exactly the word I'd be using to describe this."

Unconcerned for his grousing, Tenenbaum went on almost as though he'd not spoken at all. She had a knack for that. Prioritising her own study about the reactions of any outward source. It was familiar and Atlas found himself pleased that anything was familiar anymore. "ADAM, once introduced to the body, requires upkeep."

She began to fall into her lecture and Atlas had to cut in. "Yes, doc. I have the 101 on ADAM, I don't need a damn refresher course. Just tell me what it's doing to me." How quickly it is killing me.

Because he did know how it worked. Why it was addicting and why it was deadly. Why splicers twisted and warped till they barely looked human. He understood all that. It needed EVE to sustain itself, to sustain the host as it broke down the cells once introduced.

It quite literally ate people from the inside out if left unfed.

If irritated by his interruption, Tenenbaum showed no sign of it. "Your body shows no sign of outward decay, from what little I can gather through simple examination - your internals seem to be much the same. The ADAM in your body requires the fuel of EVE to maintain its structure while in active use, yes. But without it the ADAM appears to lay dormant rather than seek out other sources of energy and cannibalising the body."

"Argh." Atlas groaned, raking a hand down across his face in frustration. Could she never just use layman's terms for him? Just once he'd like to not have to ask her to explain things normally for him. It's not like he ever went to a damn school. At least...not one he recalls. Fairly sure he hadn't been a school boy at any time. "English doc, I swear to god, english."

"You are healthy."

What?

"Run that by me again? Must'a misheard you there."

Tenenbaum obliged. "Your body does not appear to show any signs of ADAM withdrawal, or at the very least none that could be considered lethal. I imagine over time this may change, but as you are now? You are healthy."

Good news. Atlas wasn't sure when it had happened, but all good news seemed like a sick joke now days. A lie. "That can't be right." He protested. "ADAM don't act like that."

"True. But there are exceptions to these rules. The little sisters bodies do not degrade with the introduction of ADAM, even in their later stages though they are not unchanged. These exceptions do exist for some." Tenenbaum was slightly guarded as she went on, sharp eyes studying him closely. "Some like Jack, and so too it would seem, you."

Jack…

Atlas never stopped to think about it but...yeah. The kid never became a splicer on him. He adopted plasmids left and right, handled them with such ease that he'd never seen on a splicer before. But even when his arms lit up in sparks or he found insects nesting in his veins - the kid never changed beyond that.

Still human. Still conscious. Never a splicer.

Why?

There was a part of him that wanted to believe he knew Jack would be okay. That he hadn't been helping Jack closer and closer to becoming just one more mindless freak with each injection he took. But that would be a lie. He'd have done anything to reach his family and then to kill Ryan. So he'd let Jack go down that path.

And yet the kid never changed.

Atlas's head throbbed horribly. His temper flared in retaliation of all the things he did not understand. Why him? Why Jack? When had the ADAM even entered his body and why was he not as mad as Stanley by now?

No memory, a body seemingly ripped to shreds only to be pieced back together and ADAM rushing through his veins he didn't remember putting there. Atlas could be forgiven for running low on patience and perhaps sanity.

"What the hell happened to me, doc?" He asked flatly and for a moment Tenenbaum's attentive fingers lifted from his skin. As if needing to pause physically to enable her thought process a moment to wide itself around his question.

Thinking of a lie perhaps?

"You were killed." Brigid answered finally, no sympathy offered to him.

"Yeah." Atlas bit back in an unkind scoff. "That I'd gathered. I'm asking you fucking, how."

Again there was a pause and this time Atlas was certain it must have been in order to craft a lie for him. It was not in the doctor's nature to lie, she never had the tongue for it. Every word she spoke so crippled by her earnest disinterest in everybody around her that lying seemed impossible for her. Perhaps it was Atlas's own paranoia that was expecting lies of a woman who never had before.

Finally Tenenbaum withdrew her prodding fingers and stepped back, turning to the shelf by the makeshift examination table. Plucking down a few vials that Atlas could only hope were some sort of numbing agent and contained no EVE. Unlikely, but he could foolishly hope.

"There was a trap." Tenenbaum began slowly, each word level. No hint of deception in her dead tone, but Atlas still searched for it all the same. "Sprung once Ryan was dead. The boy made his way to me. You did not."

"There's more to it than that, doc." Atlas growled, words tight and eyes narrowed on the woman before him. "I know there is. That...that can't be all there is. Look at me!" His voice had risen, gesturing furiously to the scars racing up along his arm, as though she'd not spend the past ten minutes studying him inch by inch. "This is not how Jack ever came back! I...I shouldn't have even been able to come back in one of those things! It was never coded to my genetic makeup!"

Atlas's head hurt.

Something he'd forgotten pushing at the back of his head he assumed incorrectly. It was not so much what he failed to remember, but failed to see in his own words now. Things his mind still blocked him from when inconsistencies and lies were right in front of him.

Tenenbaum saw all this and frowned at the man. They'd all believed those lies once. The actor he'd been so deeply ingrained into him it was all but impossible to have known. But now the one being fooled was the actor himself.

It'd have been fascinating to study were it not such a precarious balancing act.

The good doctor had a choice to make in a sense. These delusions ran deep within Atlas, perhaps in a way they could be considered true as the man before her remembered no other life but the one he played out.

Perhaps...it was in everyone's best interest that he remain this way.

"Atlas." Tenenbaum addressed him directly, a sternness forced onto his name as if to cement it for him. "You are alive now, yes? What does it matter how you came to be so? Many in the city do not have such chances. You have been gifted with one now. Why waste it screaming at the sky?"

There was a struggle playing out in the man's eyes. Tenenbaum knew those eyes now. Had not noticed it when she first met the lie before her - but they'd always been the same blue eyes. She was a fool for letting Steinman's work distract her from them.

The struggle he was going through was one she could not empathise with, though it did intrigue her. Seeing someone throw questions back and forth in their head, trying to find grounding in reality when they did not belong there in the first place.

At first she had been skeptical of him. Looking for the ploy he surely must have been using. Now she knew for sure the only person being fooled was Atlas himself.

Finally the man's shoulders slumped, the struggle won or lost in some regard and he muttered bitterly. "Would be nice if we could actually see the damn sky I'm hollerin' at."

"In time." She assured simply. A sort of carelessly promise that not many would give. After all, she was not yet entirely sure if leaving Atlas at the bottom of the ocean was still the better choice or not. No matter how changed he might be.

She could never be sure if these changes would stick, or if they'd melt away and reveal the monster beneath.

All this talk of the sky gradually shifted Atlas's focus to another topic. One that left him a little less torn but no less weary. Atlas hesitated, eyeing the woman's back for a beat. Something unpleasant coiling in his gut. He never had been good handling gratitude.

"You saved the kid's hide?" He asked quietly, gaze dropping down to his scarred hands. He had not been saved evidently - not by her at least - but she had helped his boy out...so begrudgingly Atlas muttered. "I'll be thankin' ya for that."

There was something about the image of the kid already above the waves that gave Atlas a sense of rest. Whole world gone to hell but Jack was worlds away from it. Why the poor sod ever ended up in Rapture in the first place was beyond Atlas. But he'd never stopped to ponder it, not one to question a bit of good fortune when his luck had run so dry. His fortune had been Jack's misfortune in that sense.

But he'd escaped Rapture as quickly as he'd come to be there, back to whatever life he had up there in the sun. Atlas vaguely wondered what sort of family Jack had. He'd never even asked. The assumption was an easy, albeit rather cliche one, that Jack was some good and well mannered farm bred boy. Likely a mama's boy that did his chores without complaint.

He never had complained when Atlas set out his tasks.

Maybe there was some girl up there he fancied. It seemed like Jack to picture a perfect family unit. White picket fence and all. Tiredly Atlas thought that if Jack was truly home free - he'd never want to see his sorry self ever again.

Why see a relic of the underwater hell he escaped?

This train of thought led Atlas to laugh dryly and pull his fingers back through his hair. "Ah shit...kid thinks I'm dead as dust, don't he?" Atlas mused with a grim sort of humour. "Reckon it's better that way." At least one of them didn't have to be seeing ghosts.

If Jack had a happy home up there, Atlas had no place in it. Getting to the surface was all he had left now.

This seemed to prompt a genuine emotion out of Brigid who turned back to look at him. The features of her face that had been softened with age pulled into surprise. More expressive with age too it would appear.

Setting down the vials by Atlas's side and plucking up a needle that Atlas attempted not to wince at, Tenenbaum mused aloud, "You truly are not the man you were."

"People been saying that an awful lot lately." Atlas replied wearily. "And I'll be straight with ya, I'm not much feeling myself lately either."

"Second chances, herr Atlas." Tenenbaum mused just as he jabbed the hypo into Atlas and could not help but smile when the man yelped. He never had been good with medical practices.

Irritated by the jab and unwilling to look even as the introduction of the med hypo soothed his lingering aches and pains. It was just unsettling, seeing something being slowly pushed into his body. He'd rather stare at the wall, or in this case scowl at the doctor. "You're just having a bucket of fun with this, ain'tcha?" Atas muttered, shooting Brigid a scalding look at that wasn't returned. "Alright, fair. Have your damn payback." It was hardly the least of what he deserved.

He settled down, exhausted in more ways than one and let Tenenbaum fix up what she could. He felt a little better when the hypo began circling through his body and that in turn made him sick again. Tenenbaum said the ADAM in him wasn't behaving as it normally did and judging by her ramblings, it meant he was not a splicer in the making. Not yet. But that didn't detract from the dread he felt knowing that his body scrambled to accept any shred of EVE it could.

And yet, he did feel better. His head felt less chaotic and his injures complained less loudly. So for now at least he accepted the help.

As he stared blankly past Tennenbaum's shoulder and out the door to the hallway that ran down the length of the train he could just make out the sounds of the girls playing.

They'd made a ruckus before, running around. But now they were quieter. He would occasionally hear a giggle or muffled words of argument, but otherwise they'd calmed. He wondered how late it was now. Time in Rapture manufactured. It felt like it should be late. Night time.

They all needed rest.

Perhaps it was because he was so tired that when his eyes began to slide shut, letting a moment of weakness in as Tenenbaum wrapped his arm back up, that for a split second he swore there was a figure standing in the doorway.

At first he wondered if Sinclair had come to see if he kicked the bucket yet. But no, the figure was too still for that. Too lean, and still. A statue like silhouette standing there, watching them.

Delta? He thought blearily but that was even less likely. Delta was an imposing figure he'd have mistaken for no other and the lack of a brat hanging around at his heels was a dead give away.

It all felt so far away. Atlas's eyes began to slide shut a little more shut as he tried to place the form. He felt so tired, like it would be good to just close his eyes and drift off. Maybe just never come back.

In the doorway the figure tilted its head, following Atlas's as it tipped off to the side in exhaustion. He couldn't make out any of their features. There was not much light in this train but there was enough to see certainly, but Atlas could not make this person out.

Not Delta. Not Sinclair...and Tenenbaum was right here at his side. No other adults were to be on this train.

Just as the weight of that thought settled in - the figure grinned.

The only thing he could see against that silhouette a row of gleaming teeth pulled back into an unpleasant sneer.

Atlas's heart jumped and his body followed suit flinching violently as his spine straightened out with a snap, eyes once again wide open. Like a child bolting upright in bed to escape their nightmares only to have the afterimage of them imprinted on their eyelids. Atlas looked at the devil in the doorway, willing it to vanish away.

It felt as though he would be swallowed up by the nightmare if it remained.

His abrupt movement startled Tenenbaum from her otherwise silent work. "Herr Atlas…?" She questioned, looking to his face though he did not meet her gaze.

Staring unblinkingly at the doorway. But nothing was there.

Even to Atlas's eyes, the figure was gone once he was truly conscious again. In the figure's place was the empty doorway and the rusted walls of the train around them. The draining feeling that had been urging him to nod off long gone and in its place a jittery panic that kept sparking through his limb

Brigid tried again. "Are you alright, voice?" Atlas did not even register the adopted nickname for him. Both an insult and a reminder of sorts - though Tenenbaum yielded it as neither currently. She simply sought answers from him. Answers he didn't really have.

How did one tell a doctor they were seeing things that weren't there? Ghosts that spoke to him in length, figures lingering in doorways. Boys in the place of little sisters. Hearing things, seeing things, feeling things.

How did one tell a doctor they were crazy?

"I...I thought…" Atlas tried, voice tight and heart pounding feverishly against his ribs. Fear. That was definitely fear. "It's nothing." He finally decided, trying to forcibly settle his nerves. "Just tired, nearly nodded off. Damn near fell off the table. That's all."

Atlas did not need to look at her to know she did not believe his flimsy lies. He'd been shaken, hsi words not as convincing as they should have been. Yet Brigid did not push him. Instead she nodded curtly and finished wrapping his arm. "You are in need of rest." She informed like he didn't know that already. "Tomorrow we reach Fontaine Futuristics, and too, Eleanor."

Biting down a shudder, Atlas tried not to remember the great lengths he'd gone to just to escape that place. It felt less daunting knowing he'd be returning with a drill wielding beast at his side. Give Alex's mad dogs a run for their money. Personally Atlas thought Delta could put other big daddies to shame.

"Save Delta's kid...yeah. Got it."

Atlas surprised himself when he realised that he actually felt the desire to do just that. Perhaps this time once they reached a family in need it would end better than his own had. He truly wanted that for Delta. Too tired to put effort into the act of not caring. He could pretend once he'd rested, for now he simply admitted that he wanted to see Delta hug that girl of his again.

He could help him do that. There was little Atlas could control of achieve - this felt like something he just might be able to.

"Don't suppose there's any beds here?" He ventured with a strained huff of laughter.

"None for us adults, no."

At that Atlas did laugh. The girls at least had something soft to sleep on. He'd have to make do with the ground. Well, he'd had worse. After a moment however, Tenenbaum sized him up, a familiar pinch in her brow forming and then told him simply. "I shall see if we do not have a spare blanket for you."

Surprised Atlas glanced to her again. Not expecting her to put the effort in. He was met with a strained, somewhat judgmental smile. "Human compassion is hardly my strong suite - but it can be learnt."

He had a suspicion that she was expecting him to learn it too.

With that Atlas jumped off the examination table, shrugging his clothes back into place and attempting to brush them off before noting the pointlessness of the gesture. No getting these old rags clean without tossing them in a fireplace. New clothes would be a right luxury about then. As would a hot shower. Couldn't remember the last time he had one of those. Granted his memory wasn't the best, but still. Disgusting.

Glancing to Tenenbaum Atlas mustered up a smile that was only half of his usual sardonic smirk. "Don't be losing any sleep over little ol' me."

"Believe me, I would not."

"That'a girl." Atlas laughed, offering Tenenbaum a careless wave as he stepped out of her makeshift med-bay. Though he did stop at the edge of the doorway and part with a simple. "Thanks for the patch job, doc." It was the most she'd be getting out of him for now.

Without sticking around to gauge her reaction to the quick word of thanks, Atlas turned on his heel and marched off. Refusing to think of his hasty withdrawal as a retreat.

Thoughtlessly he made a path towards Sinclair's hide away only to stop halfway there and catch sight of the man himself sitting cross legged with a cluster of girls around him. The sight so truly bizarre that Atlas stopped in his tracks.

With hands stuffed into his pockets, Atlas spent a moment observing this new behaviour. Sinclair never had a soft spot for kids. Not to say he disliked them either. He just...didn't seem to know what to make of the tiny humans in the making. He'd sold things to them so there was no way he could dislike the kids, but that didn't mean he knew the first thing about them.

Certainly didn't want any of his own. Other little minds to ask questions and mouths to be fed? There was probably nothing that scared Sinclair more besides straight up bankruptcy.

Despite himself the thought had Atlas snickering under his breath. Well, even if Sinclair was desperately wishing for an escape under that contented look, Atlas wouldn't be offering him one. Kids were well beyond his expertise.

No. Wait. Atlas shook his head slightly. Righting that thought. Kids had been beyond him. His Patrick changed that. He was- had been - a father.

Maybe he never should have been.

Before those thoughts could become too overwhelming, Atlas felt the tell-tale shift of the train under his feet. A soft thud and shake that each of Delta's steps made.

Bless the big idiot - he was actually trying to be gentle. The big daddy equivalent of tiptoeing. Regardless of his best efforts, the kid wouldn't be sneaking up on anyone any time soon.

"Hey there, kiddo." Atlas drawled and the hitch to Delta's failed stealth sounded sheepish in a way. Amazing how much meaning Delta's little actions could provide, didn't even need a damn voice did he?

Glancing over his shoulder Atlas sought out the little sister's figure, expecting her to be hanging off her guardian, only to notice she was not in fact with him. Confused Atlas's eyes flicked up to Delta again. Noting that he appeared to be watching Sinclair just as he'd been moments earlier.

"No straggler?" He asked cautiously, not sure what it meant if a kid was not with Delta. It made him uncomfortable.

Swaying slightly to the side, the cramped space of the train giving him little room to move about, Delta pointed in the direction Atlas had just come. There he could just make out the back of the little sister's torn dress standing in Tenenbaum's doorway.

It took a moment for Atlas to grasp what they were doing. Sisters healed rapidly, little girls did not. Better to ensure she was coming back in the best condition.

"Ah. Makes sense…" Atlas murmured to himself. Delta was being careful in a sense. Having the doctor ensure the little one was physically healthy before going through with the little spell lifting gift they apparently had.

Smart. And they had the luxury of being able to do so. The train safe enough and full of protectors. Once she was given the all clear she'd be able to join those other girls in pestering Sinclair for entertainment. Not the best role model, granted, but at least someone to bother that wasn't Atlas.

Sighing tiredly Atlas glanced between Delta and the gathering of kids playing cards. The world had changed so much since he left it temporarily. "You tired, Delta?" He asked and was met with a low rumble that sounded as close to a sigh as Delta could manage. "Yeah, me too."

The conversation could have ended there. Atlas might have let it but after a short pause he added more quietly. "Gonna get your kid back tomorrow, yeah?" It was more a promise than a question, Delta seemed to understand it well enough.

This time when that large gloved hand rest atop his head Atlas just snorted and accepted the gesture. "Don't you dare ruffle." He warned however. Like he wasn't a mess enough without Delta purposefully fluffing up his hair. Just one gigantic brat this one.

Mercifully Delta obliged and when his hand did move it was gently, a slight patting motion that was absolutely demeaning and something Atlas would have shot others for - but for Delta? For Dealt he just rolled his eyes and let the urge for the big daddy to show some sort of affection play out.

Affection he was still getting used to again. Like many things, he couldn't recall when he'd last had it. His memory might be about as trustworthy as Cohen's parties, but he knew for a fact he hadn't felt he could sleep without a gun at his hip in years.

However, he felt he could sleep easy for a while. Just for a few hours, he'd take what he could get.