Stopping to catch their breath was a must after nearly being crushed under a ceiling. Unfortunately, Rapture provided precious few places to take a breather. So trying to find a quiet, tucked away part of the city was essential before the adrenaline could fade.
Fontaine carried Beatrice to the very end of the hallway they'd stumbled into. The path took a rather direct turn to the left that led to the rest of Rapture, but Fontaine passed it in favour of the small stretch just beyond it that lead to a vita-chamber. Tucked into its own very own corner, it was the best he could manage for cover at the moment.
Of course the whole time he was struggling to breathe again. Coughing dust from his lungs even as he set Bea down. Only barely managing to stop from just dropping her on her ass. Not that she was paying him much mind when she had her own coughing fit to think about.
Bracing himself against the wall by the vita-chamber, leaving Bea partially hidden behind the wall while he could still see the rest of the hallway, Fontaine took a moment to try and stretch out his sore muscles and shake off the lingering unease of having seen another ghost he would rather had just stayed dead.
While he'd managed to catch his breath after only a few deep breaths, the kid's lungs didn't seem strong enough for that and Beatrice was still coughing and gasping on the ground where he'd left her. Trying and failing to pull one full breath into her chest. She'd even started to tear up because of it. Fontaine watched for a moment before sighing and kneeling down next to her.
"Hey, hey! Stop trying to just choke down air. Christ. Deep breaths. Count to three or some shit. Slowly." he groused, halfheartedly patting her back while sliding Atlas's ratty satchel off his shoulder.
Fortunately they had a bottle of water on hand along with their first aid kit and Fontiane pulled that out for her. Uncapping the lid and waiting until Beatrice managed to get at least one full breath in before offering the water to her.
"Here ya go. Don't choke on that too." Fontaine advised dryly as he handed over the water bottle to the kid. Sitting down with a hefty sigh once he did. Watching idly as Beatrice proceeded to completely ignore him and try to gulp it all down in one go. Resulting in a new coughing fit.
Fontaine outright laughed at her.
Beatrice's face screwed up tight in anger as she scowled back at him as though he'd just committed a grave betrayal.
"What?" he remarked with a scoff. "Man can save ya life but you just can't stand him having a good laugh?"
"You sound stupid." Beatrice replied astutely. Commenting on his accent no doubt.
"I'll hand it to ya, kiddo, you know how to wound an old man's feelings. That ain't mighty nice of you, what would dear ma and pa think of that?"
"I don't have a 'ma and pa'!" Beatrice snipped back, still sulking irritably as she took another drink. Slower this time. No doubt her throat was hurting pretty bad between all the coughing and choking. Yet she still had it in her to snidely mimic his accent when repeating 'ma and pa' at him.
Fontaine snorted in amusement. He was always partial to a bit of character imitation after all and the kid wasn't half bad at it. Perhaps it was just because there was nothing else to do but wait for the dust to settle, but Fontaine decided to humour the conversation a little longer.
"Neither, huh?" he mused, watching with indifference as Beatrice's defenses shot right up. Perhaps she'd been bullied for being without her parents or it was just a sore spot for her still. Fontaine nearly advised her that it wouldn't matter once she was old enough to know parents really weren't terribly important.
But then again…
"No family at all? No brothers and sisters or anything?"
Miserably, Beatrice replied, "...no. Nothing like that. Just the others at the orphanage and they were all...mean."
Christ. If she started bawling then it was going to be his own fucking fault and he'd have to be stuck with her weeping. Couldn't have that.
"I didn't have parents either. Well, none that wanted me. Got dumped with a lot of nuns at some lousy orphanage topside. Hell, two orphanages at that! So, take it from an adult - parents aren't all they're cracked up to be. Better off without them honestly." Fontaine informed her with a flippant shrug.
Beatrice regarded him curiously and Fontaine really hoped she wouldn't pry, but didn't think he'd be so lucky. Kids always had so many questions. Too many questions. More questions than he'd ever been able to keep up with.
And of course she asked, "Didn't you have any family?"
At that Fontaine hesitated. Gaze flicking over to the naively curious girl for a moment. Weighing up the point in lying to her and then deciding if he had the energy to bother being deceptive now of all times. It was just some brat and lord knows he could use a moment of rest. Instead he took to packing away the forgotten water bottle away. Looking at that rather than at Bea.
"I did have me a sister, but she's long gone now." Frank admitted finally.
He should not have been surprised that Bea followed the first question up with the next natural question.
"What happened to her?"
For a fleeting moment Fontaine almost snapped at her. Some thoughtless angry words boiling away at the back of his throat, but when he glanced at her again, that anger faded. It would be energy wasted to shout or rage at her. Instead Fontaine just shrugged and sat back against the wall under the glow of the vita-chamber.
"Same thing that happens to everyone down here. She died."
"Oh…" Bea mumbled, looking less than happy with that answer. It took a few seconds for her to brave another question. "Will we die too?"
"Of course we'll die." Fontaine laughed and waited just long enough for Beatrice's face to pale before adding more quietly. "But not yet, kid. Not yet and not down here."
"You promise?" she asked.
And Fontaine, well he had never hesitated to lie to a child before. "Yeah." he replied calmly. "I promise."
This seemed to comfort Beatrice and she came to sit with him. No doubt exhausted from all those near death experiences. They were quiet for a moment before the kid, ever full of questions, asked another. "What was your sister like?"
At that, Frank laughed. A soft, weary chuckle that turned into a sigh at the end. He couldn't talk about that. About her. Not now. "Tell you what, ask for my life story again once we're standing in sunlight. I'm real fucking tired, kid."
Bea huffed in irritation and Fontaine figured that seeing as she'd asked him so many probing questions, he had a right to one of his own. "And what about you, huh? Nearly got yourself killed back there. What were you thinking?"
"I was thinking that big sister was about to crush you."
Well...she wasn't wrong, couldn't argue that.
"And so what, you thought stepping out in front of her like a brave little idiot was just the thing to do, eh?"
"I saved your life!" She asserted angrily, jamming her tiny finger against his chest. "I am a hero!"
"Oh? Is you now? Well excuse me, little miss hero. I must have missed the part where you carried me through all hell and back. Oh wait, no, I did that."
"You couldn't carry me if you were crushed!" Bea cried indignantly.
"Alright. I'll hand you that, kiddo. What's that leave us with now? Oh yes, me saving you plenty of times before this. From the moment I met ya in fact! So what's the score now? Something like four to one. Does that make you a quarter hero? A mini hero? Pint-sized?"
Beatrice made a groaning sound like she'd just been shot. Hands thrown up in the air in frustration before she slumped down against the wall. Arms crossed and cheeks puffed out.
Fontaine laughed again and reached over to ruffle her hair roughly. "Yeah that's what I damn well thought."
While he was content to leave it at that, Beatrice had one more thing that she clearly felt had to be said. "...I thought you were going to die." Those words were said quietly and Fontaine was once again concerned she might be heading towards tears.
"Well...apparently I am an incredibly hard man to kill." he assured. The hand that had ruffled her hair now resting there gently. "And it seems like you are too. Look at us. Two unkillable people. The other orphans must be real jealous."
And Fontaine thought he saw something impish in Beatrice's slow smile after that. Good. She might as well learn to think highly of herself. Damn the rest. That would keep her alive and if she stayed out of trouble, and that made his life a little easier.
Very briefly Fontaine began to share in her smile and had a few more remarks on her unquestionable superiority to other children he'd never met on the tip of his tongue when a crash towards the back of the hallway had him on high alert again. Fontaine got to his feet in an instant and Bea began to scramble up as well, ushered behind his legs as Fontaine stepped in front of her. Keeping her away from the opening between their little alcove and the exposed hallway. His hand lingered on his gun, expecting at any second for a splicer to come shambling out of the shadows.
Instead it was Delta's hulking form that came stumbling in. Bits of rubble and dust were rolling off his shoulders as he emerged from the next room over. His disoriented stumbling did not give Fontaine the impression that Delta was still caught in the madness they'd last seen him in.
Sure enough when the big daddy looked up at them, needing to look around desperately at first before spotting them down the hall, he did not suddenly fly into a murderous rage but instead stopped. Seeming to hesitate in the hall as he looked at Fontaine and the scared child peering around his legs.
Still, Fontaine checked.
"That you, tinman?" he asked flatly. Waiting until Delta gave a slow now of affirmation. "Good." Fontaine acknowledged calmly and Delta almost seemed to perk up, taking a step closer to them.
That was when Fontaine exploded.
"What the bloody fucking hell were you doing back there!" he shouted. His voice so loud that even Bea flinched away from him as it echoed around them.
Startled Delta took back the step he had taken but Fontaine was quick to advance on him. Angry words flying from his mouth as he marched down the hallway towards the stunned big daddy.
"I asked you a damn question, tinman! What was that back there? You could have gotten us both fucking killed, me and the kid, because you got so caught up in your own fucking drama!"
Poor Delta didn't have the voice to be able to defend himself and could only stand there in shock as Fontaine ripped into him with words he didn't expect and a voice he barely knew.
"So busy chasing actual ghosts you nearly made us ghosts too! Hate to fucking break it to you, but the guy in that suit? He's fucking dead. There is nothing left of 'em and you sure as shit can't take down a demo daddy on your own! So either you fucking join him in the ground or you get your fucking act together, you hear me, kid?"
"Atlas!"
It as Bea's little voice that called out and quickly the girl was rushing him. Grabbing onto Fontaine around the middle and squeezing him tight. Protecting Delta from Fontaine's words with the same conviction as she'd protected Atlas from Big Sister's attacks.
But it wasn't 'Atlas' here right now and being called by that fake name filled Fontaine with anger he hadn't felt towards the lie before.
"Don't you 'Atlas' me!" he snapped, only just stopping short of reaching down to yank the girl off of him. "Don't you get it? This guy could have gotten us all killed and you perfect fucking 'Atlas' was just going to let it happen if I hadn't-"
The radio on his hips crackled to life and abruptly Fontaine forgot what he'd been about to say. Falling silent in a split second as the radio buzzed but no one spoke through it.
He didn't need the words to know he'd been heard. After all, he'd known from the second he addressed Lamb aloud that his voice could be heard by everyone over those radios.
'Don't you Atlas me', he'd said. Well, it was unlikely that any of those on the other side of the radio would be falling for that alias again.
Sure enough, it was Tenebaum that spoke through the radio now. "It is you. Herr Fontaine…" Not a question. Just a statement.
Despite himself, fear came rushing in.
Fear so strong his breath cut short and his hands began to tremble. The panic swelled and Fontiane distantly realised that terror was not strictly his. They may never see him as Atlas again, but Atlas was still very much an affliction he was stuck with and now that delusion was panicking.
Neither he nor Atlas answered the call.
Instead they stumbled back away. Dropping the radio aside and dislodging Beatrice's arms. Needing space and then needing even more space as it seemed all eyes had turned onto them. They needed to think. They needed time. There was so much they needed and nothing they could do to achieve any of it right now.
The panic mounted higher and Delta tried to reach for him. Fontaine jerked away sharply, snarling at the big daddy. Delta was confused, more lost than even the child stood between them. Tenebaum must have understood. Sinclair too. Wherever he was.
Oh god Sinclair…
They couldn't even seem to breathe anymore.
Beatrice called Atlas's name again and stepped towards them. Fontaine answered by turning his back on both her and Delta.
"Keep away from me!" he shouted back at them and did not stop to see the hurt in Bea's face as he stumbled back.
Needing to be away from their eyes, and away from the conversation he wasn't ready to have. Neither he, nor Atlas, was able to handle the con coming crashing down around them. He felt dizzy, stomach turning over nauseatingly. Again he heard Bea call out in panic, but Fontaine had already lost his balance, collapsing to his knees and heaving.
Mercifully as his stomach rejected the small amount of food it held, snatched candy bars and packets of chips they found on the way there, Delta had caught Bea by the shoulder and pulled her back enough to avoid any unfortunate mess. Not that this did much to help Fontaine currently, on his knees and gagging as his body seemed to violently jerk. Trying to pull itself apart from the inside as far as he could tell.
It was then that Fontaine realised what was happening. They'd swapped positions a number of times before, but this had to be the most physically aggressive shift between them. In his delirium, Fontaine thought that perhaps this was actually a good thing. Some physical rejection to the 'Atlas' personality as it tried to weasel its way back in. Maybe he was closer to washing himself clean of it.
Granted, that knowledge didn't make the current experience any less agonizing. Another wave of nausea hit him and Fontaine choked as his stomach tried to expel contents it no longer had, leaving him gasping and gagging with his already sore lungs aching all the harder. The effort he put into staying lucid became a halfhearted one. This wasn't a fight he could win, but the war itself was already his.
Atlas couldn't survive this without more ADAM and Fontaine would just have to wait him out. Soon he'd be back to himself. Whole and sane. But for now he had no choice but to relinquish the body with one last parting remark to his own hallucination.
"You show up when all the dramatics are done? Fucking typical." Fontaine hissed before blinking out of existence once again. Leaving Atlas to be the one on his knees, panting and shuddering in the aftershocks of that episode. Still dizzy and struggling with the strong chance he'd be dry heaving again, Atlas blinked awake. Managing to look up at Delta and Beatrice.
They looked concerned. Even Delta with his damned helmet. How did he manage that?
Maybe it was the way he slowly stepped forward, arm uncertainly outstretched and lingering. No doubt wanting to help but not sure if he was allowed to approach.
"Delta-" Atlas began to speak, throat raw and still burning from his fit. But the words died away when he noticed something else about Delta. "-you're hurt."
The encounter with Demo had not left Delta unscathed. There was blood dribbling down from a tear just above Delta's diving belt. The blood that was leaking from Delta's suit had left a small trail following his path to them. The fabric torn through. You couldn't cut through Delta's suit with a knife or likely even a simple pistol bullet, but Demo was carrying weapons that would make a Rosie blush.
It was an obvious injury, not one easily missed. How had he not seen that earlier?
Simple. Fontaine hadn't cared to check.
While Delta looked down to his own injury and seemed to shrug it off. Waving his hand to dismiss the injury, Atlas was not satisfied with that. He didn't know if that injury was serious or not and wanted to check for himself.
Clumsily, Atlas tried to stagger back to his feet but found he couldn't support his own weight right away, he would have collapsed back onto the floor had Delta's arm not caught him. Despite the grim situation, Atlas had it in him to huff out a dry, humourless laugh.
"Just look at us. We're falling apart…"
Delta didn't answer him, not that he'd expected the silent giant to suddenly become an avid conversationalist, and instead just focused on steadying Atlas. After a few deep breaths and seconds to make sure he wasn't going to vomit again, Atlas managed to focus a little. Enough to feel guilt creeping in.
"Delta, what I said before…" he began, looking to Delta imploringly. Wanting to tell him he didn't mean it and of course he hadn't meant to throw the same furious words at Delta that Fontaine had, but there was a core message behind them. Delta had put them into a dangerous position. But it was hardly his fault.
He hadn't been himself at the time.
Slowly Delta shook his head, and placed his hand flat against Atlas's chest. A strangely comforting gesture that felt like immediate absolution.
Dragging in heavy breaths, Atlas grasped Delta's hand tight in his own. "Yeah...yeah I get it, big guy. We're good." he murmured.
Had this outburst been contained to just the three of them, Atlas could have likely kept the lie intact a bit longer...but Tenebaum's acknowledgement of him still rung in Atlas's head and finally he stopped running from it.
Looking up, Atlas saw Bea standing a small distance back from them, clutching his abandoned radio in her little hands. Looking anxious and scared. Again there was guilt. Fontaine didn't have to shout at her like that. The fucking prick.
"Hey darlin'...can you hand me that?" he asked gently, stepping away from Delta once he trusted himself enough to walk.
Beatrice still looked uncertain. Couldn't blame her for that, this must have looked like a right mess and he didn't fault her for being confused. He barely knew what was going on most of the time.
"I'm sorry for shoutin', Bea." Atlas murmured, truly meaning that apology. "Not feeling quite right, didn't mean to snap at you. Let me have a word with the good doctor, see if she can fix me up, yeah?"
That in itself was both the truth and a lie. He didn't doubt that Tenebaum's 'fix' for him would be a bullet but there was no avoiding this now. With the thought that she was helping Atlas, Beatrice finally seemed willing to hand the radio over and did so without a word.
"Tinman?" Atlas called even as he clutched the radio close. Afraid of it in a way. "Will you take the kid and find somewhere to rest? Somewhere safe? We'll need to see about that jab in your side and...I think we could all use the rest."
Atlas did not ask for it outloud, but Delta seemed to understand his plea for space. There was some hesitance on the big daddy's part, but finally he nodded and looked to Bea. Silently gesturing for her to come closer. Taking her by the hand and leading the young girl out of the hallway.
Both cast him concerned glances and Delta wouldn't go any further until Atlas spoke up again. "I won't be a second, kid. I'll holler if there's a problem. I know you won't be far."
Even then, Delta did not let him out of sight. Just moved further into the hall next to their own. Now that he had a moment to look at their surroundings, Atlas had a vague idea of where they were. Right next to the docking bay by the looks of it. Which meant that Tenebaum and Sinclair wouldn't be far off… and he couldn't ignore them any longer.
So finally Atlas steeled himself and lifted the radio to greet them as himself.
"Hey, doc…" Atlas greeted tiredly. "...guess it's been a while, huh?"
The response was immediate. "Why do you still speak in that voice?"
Tenebaum's own voice was quiet. As if this were a conversation being uttered in secret, but Atlas knew better. There was no secret anymore.
"It's mine." he told her plainly even though he did not think Tenebaum would understand and if she did, he doubted she would take his word for it. His situation was a fairly bizzare one.
"But you remember." She replied flatly. "For how long?"
Atlas wished Tenebaum would give him more to go off. To shout or threaten. Promise, curse, he didn't mind so much, just anything besides these quiet questions.
"Since finding Fontaine's office. That teleport plasmid is mighty unstable, hurled me back through memory lane. Some of my own, some from...everyone else. All of Rapture I guess. Ha, Fontiane- I took some pretty crazy ADAM before Jack got to me, didn't I?" Atlas replied honestly, the answer stretching as his nerves got the best of him. A drop of hysteria leaking into his voice.
"Yeah. I remember. I remember everything. Brigid, I...fuck-"
Atlas had to stop and swallow hard around the lump in his throat. It was a strange feeling. Knowing he was found out, but finally being able to speak honestly. This was the first time he spoke to her without any lies in place. The first time Atlas could pinpoint a time he truly spoke to anyone. It felt like he was choking on the weight of that truth.
"Frank-" Tenebaum began, voice not as firm as she typically sounded, but Atlas had to stop her short. Wincing at hearing his own name.
"I am Atlas. Believe whatever you damn well want. If you had been honest with me from the start we wouldn't be here now, but here I am ...and you know where to find me if you want me. So come see me for yourself, doc."
With that he lowered the radio, pointedly turning it off. Delta would be able to hear them still, but Atlas didn't want to talk anymore. Tenebaum had no doubt been watching them since the encounter with Eleanor. She saw and heard it all.
Atlas could only hope that she came to the conclusion that he was too insane to bother punishing and maybe just put him down fast. Perhaps he'd have enough time to talk to Delta. Maybe even plead his case. Delta seemed willing to care for him despite the strange situation, so maybe...
Any yet, he could hear Fontaine somewhere in the back of his mind. Speaking undesired truths.
"They won't take you back now." Fontaine warned darkly. "Can't say I blame 'em. If I weren't living it, I wouldn't believe this circus show either."
With a deep breath, Atlas shut his eyes and tried to drown out his own thoughts.
Well. It was too late to back out now. He'd run out of lies to tell and cons to sell. It was just him now. Laid bare and exposed, he didn't doubt that judgement would arrive soon.
He could feel ice crawling along his skin. Begging for Atlas to open his eyes again and see all the dead laid out before him. He kept his eyes closed a little longer. Hoping for the day when he might become numb to the sensation.
Tenebaum would be right to kill him, to see Fontaine rather than Atlas, he wasn't real after all. Some...ADAM made bullshit. Atlas wasn't sure if he would just blink out of existence at some point. Dying felt less terrifying than just...ceasing, in that way.
This life doesn't belong to me. Atlas knew that but thinking those words to himself felt like a death sentence.
For as undeserving as Fontaine was of anything, he was still the person who ought to be in control of the body Atlas had taken residency in. There was no denying that.
If the only thing he was born to do was to take the responsibility for someone else's crimes then it might have been better if he'd lived out his life as nothing more than an idea. A voice and nothing more. Atlas was struggling to keep from panicking, from breaking down entirely. Even breathing seemed difficult and, as always, the dead were not ready to let him lie with them.
The ghosts to his name were victims of Fontaine's and owed him no love, but similarly they were people that once lived alongside him and at times, they seemed to support him still. In the form of little memories and moments he could only name a guiding.
"Breathe." Advised a long gone memory, breathless laughter ringing through the memories's advice. Even when it came under the rain of gunfire and smoke.
"Breathe, boss. Focus. Stay alive."
Atlas squeezed his eyes shut more tightly and rejected that memory, rejected the cold entirely. It didn't matter if it was real or if he was crazy, he couldn't stand anymore of this.
"No!" Atlas hissed to himself viciously. "I don't want to hear... to hear the last thing you said to me, Reg."
He didn't want to remember - he wanted Reggie here with him now.
But Reggie would never be here again. All because they'd sent him to his death and the last thing that he'd ever had to tell them was to stay alive.
Fontaine should have died in that fire fight from the beginning.
The cold momentarily seemed to retreat, but Atlas should have known better than to think the dead were through with him as the ice returned just as quickly. The sensation of arms draping around his shoulders settling on his skin. Cold, but soft. A familiar, comforting touch that Atlas recognised in a horrible, painful instant.
It was only a memory but…it felt so real to him. So much so that Atlas wanted to believe it. Chasing phantoms in the same way Fontaine had condemned Delta for. Atlas whipped around, eyes wide as he tried to follow the feeling of arms around him.
"Jackie?"
Atlas called desperately but there was no one there with him. Not even the dead. All that answered him were Rapture's quiet creaks and groans.
Despite himself Atlas almost choked on a swell of emotion that he dared not name for fear it might fall to closely to grief.
Then, rather suddenly, Atlas was taken off guard as he noticed, with some confusion, as a little drop of salty water landed on the radio he held tightly.
Atlas couldn't have pinpointed when it happened or exactly why, but he'd started to cry.
Pressing a hand to his cheek Atlas found himself more surprised than anything else. It still did not feel like he was crying, but the tears kept flowing. Overwhelming him in an instant, he couldn't stop their flow. Atlas knew now that he couldn't immediately catch up with Delta and Beatrice. He had no choice but to remain back for a moment, unable to get control of himself immediately.
Left to crumple in on himself, radio clutched to his chest, gritting his teeth as he willed the onslaught of emotion to stop. He couldn't continue like this.
And because Atlas felt like not even the dead could hear him anymore, the broken, begging words just slipped out. "I want to see you again…just once more."
If Fontaine wouldn't mourn their family, if he would not miss them, then Atlas would.
And he did. So much.