Getting up again was difficult.
It was hard to force himself to continue onwards once he'd stopped for so long, but it was no harder than anything else he'd done in the past few days. Everything had been difficult as of late and it just so happened that Atlas didn't know any other experience besides these collection of unpleasant days.
"What a life I've led." Atlas murmured dispassionately to himself.
Letting out a dry huff of laughter, feeling that making fun of himself was about the only way he could turn the next breakdown into grim amusement.
Slowly, Atlas was able to drag himself up from the ground. The fading echo of his own desperate calls to the dead still lingered in his thoughts as he painstakingly tried to outwardly right himself. Atlas was a crumbling man, in body, mind and spirit it seemed and, in vain, Atlas tried to hide some of those cracks.
Fixing his bag over his shoulder, Atlas paused when catching a glimpse of a still glowing jar inside amongst the supplies and oddities they collected. Grimacing Atlas almost wished that the teleport plasmid had fallen out or shattered at some point, it was a petty thought to harbour, but just the sight of the damnable thing reminded him of how hungry his veins were for a fresh shot.
The desire for ADAM and EVE was beginning to become more obvious and Atlas was not sure which cause was more frightening.
Simple splicer driven cravings, or the idea that somewhere in his head it was Fontaine's influence pushing him to put more ADAM into their system and free himself.
Refusing to relent to either Atlas took a deep breath, pretended he'd sealed up all those cracks, and set out after Delta.
It did not take long for Atlas to rejoin him and when seeing Delta turn to look at him, Atlas was hit with the sickening feeling that Delta had heard all of what happened back there. The distance between them be damned.
After all, inside that helmet of his was a built in radio and Atlas would bet his bottom dollar that meant he could hear anything that Tenebaum decided to share across the public air.
It may have just been the paranoia settling in, but Atlas just knew in his very bones that Delta heard it all.
Now the silent young man watched him, unable to put voice to any questions he might have had, and Atlas struggled not to overflow with explanations and excuses he hadn't even thought up yet.
Instead what came out of his mouth was a tired, "Maybe forgetting ourselves isn't such a bad thing, Delta…"
With all his memories returned, Atlas couldn't say that he felt any better than he'd been without them. Quite the opposite. But it seemed that Delta still lacked many of his memories. Maybe that could be seen as a mercy. Atlas wished more and more each day that he' been left a blank slate and lived his life not knowing who he had been. But there was no going back to the lie now.
Delta turned a little more in his direction, probably with questions on his mind. Unfortunately, Delta's body was the only tool he had to express himself and currently half of him was occupied with holding their little runaway.
The runaway that Atlas was finally able to turn his attention to in earnest. Still feeling a faint tug of regret for what had happened moments earlier.
"You look about ready to drop, darlin'." Atlas noted softly. Bea looked ready to fall asleep standing up, though to her credit, she still had enough energy to scowl at him.
"You still sound weird." She commented, words heavy with fatigue. "But...good weird again."
"Yeah, I know." Atlas replied in a hushed voice. Unable to help smiling a bit as he did. "Make fun of my voice all you like once you've had a nap. Come on, let's find somewhere to wait for Tenebaum and the girls. You little troublemaker."
Perhaps she'd have argued the troublemaker remark had she been more awake but as it was, Beatrice was nodding off against Delta's chest. Safe and secure in his protective hold.
"Come on." Atlas addressed Delta this time. "We're not far now."
Atlas didn't stop to watch for some physical tell of what Delta thought of that. Instead he just set out ahead of the former big daddy and little sister.
Their meet up point could mean a number of things to him now. For Delta and Bea it would be safety no doubt, but for Atlas? It was hard to imagine any other outcome besides Tenebaum and bullet. If he were lucky.
If Atlas had to pick a new most impressive skill for himself, it would have been the ability to block out all rational thought because that was exactly what he did now. With scary efficiency. Logically he should have been putting distance between himself and the train before it arrived, but he didn't bother. Too tired to bother with running.
As Atlas he'd spent his whole life running from one life threatening problem straight into the next, and Fontaine had been running from far subtler things for so much longer. Running was getting to be too exhausting and hadn't yielded any rewards as of yet.
Inner Persephone was cold.
The small fire they'd stopped to warm themselves at by the elevators seemed like a lifetime away and that heat had long since been sapped away. Now Atlas tried to fight against his body's instinct to shiver. Then realised how ridiculous a fight that was and stopped wasting energy with it.
The penal colony likely hadn't been all that impressive during its day, but now with the decay and mildew being the new standard of Rapture, it looked all the more miserable.
Like everything else, the area was drowned in the stench of rust and rot, the only mercy Atlas could find was that there were no obvious bodies left strewn about. Though the reek of death was still too heavy to write off the possibility that they were simply hidden by the shadows and limited lighting.
Had it not been for the large open display windows ahead of them, it would have been too dark to see anything. But outside the water was illuminated. Spot lights left on to show off what must have been the most insulting sight for a prisoner of Rapture.
For them? The sight was far more welcome.
"Hey, you still awake there, kiddo?" Atlas asked as he looked back over his shoulder and could make out the shine of Delta's armour as he stepped into the natural light. Carrying with him the sleepy girl who tried her best to look awake when Atlas called for her. Although her expression was screwed up in irritation, none too pleased to be dragged from her near sleep.
"What?" she asked but the word was warbled and broken by a yawn that Bea tried to stifle.
"You see that?" Atlas asked, pointing towards the windows.
Following his gesture, Bea's face only screwed up further in confusion. "What? That big metal thing?" Bea asked, rubbing her eyes as she did.
"That big metal thing," Atlas clarified, "is an escape pod."
Now that got both Delta and Bea's attention.
Beatrice's tired eyes shot open while Delta straightened up and stepped hastily past Atlas to get a better look at the life raft that sat unused and in pristine condition outside of the glass. Atlas followed after them, able to feel a bit smug as he watched their reactions. At least that was a light at the end of the tunnel for them.
"Yeah. Sinclair squirreled away all sorts of things from Ryan towards the end. Always was the type to have an escape route well established," he explained, pressing his hand flat against the window as he too looked out at the escape vessel with some level of awe.
Truthfully, Atlas hadn't really expected it to be here.
In part because he never knew if Sinclair ever got the thing finished and then just assumed that if he had, it would have been gone by now. Either taken by Sinclair, someone else or sunken in one of the usual freak accidents set in motion by Rapture's seemingly endless amount of spite towards them.
But there she sat. Not a scratch on her as far as Atlas could tell. Sinclair must have been thrilled. However, he hadn't mentioned this detail to them either, so perhaps he didn't even know that she was still here. Otherwise he would have stopped at nothing to get to it.
Lucky him, they'd cleared the path all the way here and Sinclair barely had to lift a finger. Typical.
"We… we can get out on that?" Bea asked, voice quiet with trepid hope. Smart kid knew to be skeptical of any good thing in this city.
"God permitting."
Atlas sighed and drew his hand back from the glass, looking over the docking bay. This was the end of the road one way or another.
"This is where we'll meet up with them." Atlas informed Delta flatly. Pretending he couldn't feel questions burning inside of Delta. The wonderful thing about being friends with the mute meant he could selectively ignore some topics.
Atlas glanced back over his shoulder to the rest of the prison. He could see paths leading to the infirmary, holding cells and therapy rooms up on the second floor.
Jadedly he wondered if Sinclair had the inmates paying for their own therapy back in the day. Then thought that was a stupid question, of course he did.
Well. Until Fontaine and Ryan took over that payment for test subjects. Subjects like the man that was slowly setting Bea down against the glass window.
Atlas forced himself not to dwell on that history.
"It seems quiet enough, let's sit down for a while." Atlas announced, as though Delta hadn't already decided as much.
The last word had barely left his lips before Delta was sitting himself down. Being careful not to jostle Beatrice too much before gently setting her down next to him. Making a soft groaning noise of discomfort as he did. That was a nasty scuff he'd gotten no doubt.
"He got you good, huh?" Atlas mused as he knelt down by Delta's side.
Poking around the torn fabric to see if he could actually get to the injury. Big daddies healed scary fast, so provided it wasn't too deep a wound, it would likely take care of itself given some time. All they had to do, was to make sure the flesh didn't grow over with part of Delta's suit stuck inside of it.
"This is going to hurt a pinch." Atlas warned but Delta shrugged. Giving his attention over to Bea who had been trying to get a closer look at what Atlas was doing.
The big daddy softly, but firmly placed his hand over her eyes, despite Bea's little hisses of protest. Delta wasn't going to let her watch as Atlas dug around the wound and pulled out whatever obvious bits of debris or fabric had gotten caught inside.
It must have stung a fair bit for Delta to wince here and there, given he was built like a tank, but Delta didn't even groan in complaint.
Distracting himself with making sure Bea didn't manage to peak through his fingers. Making a game of it. As she pulled a finger down to see through the gaps, Delta would just change the position of his hand over her face. Met with giggles and more attempts at argument that went nowhere.
Finally Atlas sat back onto his hind haunches, satisfied with his work and Bea was settling down. That exhaustion creeping back up on her until finally she was curled up against Delta's side and beginning to nod off again.
After a moment of stillness and quiet, now sure that Bea must have been asleep, Atlas swallowed down his own battered pride and said what a better man would have said far sooner than this.
"...I'm sorry about before, Delta." he reiterated grimly.
"I wasn't...well I wasn't feeling like myself. And I...I know what it's like to be chasing ghosts. I shouldn't have said those things to you. So...I am sorry. I mean that."
Fontaine was a right bastard, but he also wasn't wrong. Strictly speaking. The friend Delta once had was long gone. But there were gentler ways of telling Delta that, and Fontaine hadn't been the least bit gentle about it. Thus, Atlas was stuck apologising for Fontaine, as usual.
For now Atlas could only hope that they wouldn't see the ghost of Delta's friend around again because unlike the ones he saw, Demo was a dead man that might just have them all join him in the afterlife.
In lieu of words to forgive him with, Delta reached out with a large gloved hand and rest it atop Atlas's head. It was a familiar gesture now and Atlas rolled his eyes. In the past he had brushed Delta off or even fought against the action, agitated by the ruffled hair and wounded pride. But now he accepted it. Thinking that there was a very good chance, he wasn't going to feel that contact again to be annoyed by it.
"Thanks, big guy." Atlas murmured, smiling as he finally batted Delta's hand away. A slow, halfhearted gesture that was entirely for show. Delta's frame shook slightly with laughter and he brought his hand back down into his lap.
Satisfied, Atlas left Delta to rest. All they had to do now - was wait.
Once Tenebaum and the train arrived, they'd have to discuss amongst themselves what to do from there. About Lamb, about Eleanore, about the surface. Atlas wasn't sure if he'd be around to hear most of that discussion.
"Go ahead, Delta. Get some rest. I'll stay up and keep watch." Atlas encouraged, watching as Delta slumped back against the glass, he might have already been unconscious.
Couldn't fault him for that. It had been nearly nonstop for...god Atlas wasn't sure now. They had to have been up for at least a straight twenty hours since their last moment of rest. Now was as good a time as any to try and catch up on sleep. However, he'd agreed to be the one to keep watch and so Atlas settled himself down for a subpar type of rest. Just being able to sit and relax was a considerable improvement from all the running and screaming. So for now, he'd take what he could get.
The minutes trickled by and Atlas was left to listen to Rapture's little creaks and groans. The old city seemed about as tired as himself now. He wasn't sure which of them was going to sink first.
Staring dazedly upwards, Atlas thoughts inevitably turned to Sinclair. It was hard not to think of him when surrounded by one of the man's greatest crimes. Not that Atlas was in any position to judge. If they were to compare sins they'd probably come out neck and neck with each other. And yet, Atlas could put money on him being the one to come away with the guillotine lined up with his.
He knew that Tenebaum wouldn't have been keeping who he was a secret, even if she could, and so Sinclair would be coming for him as Fontaine and not as Atlas. An enemy rather than a tentative friend. For the first time since he'd been 'born' Atlas fully understood where Sinclair's animosity for him stemmed from. It came from the same place that his own disdain for Sinclair in return had come from.
Guilt was no stranger to him, nor was blame. But those things had never stuck to him for long. Brushed from his skin with little excuses and guises of certainty.
Accusations thrown at him and just as hastily discredited with a thought of conviction.
The things you did cost lives, so the accusation said.
For the sake of others, came the justification.
The accusations laid themselves at his feet. One after another they came. Even as 'Atlas's' old lies were used to justify it all.
You burned those children.
They weren't human anymore.
You promised Jacyln that her little girl would be safe.
It wasn't my fault, it was Ryan's fault.
You were just using Jack.
For the sake of my family.
You didn't have the good grace to just die when it was time for you to go.
I am alive.
And the trend kept up, more accusations, more justifications.
The Atlas lie working in overtime to keep all the delusions in tact. Well now the lie was in shambles and Atlas was left to wonder if this was just a particularly extreme justification to add to the pile.
Atlas shut his eyes. Tried to block out the accusations that had broken through his justifications but couldn't seem to escape them.
There was no cause left to save at the cost of other lives. Those children could be just as human as they once were. His family was gone. Jack deserved better than his manipulation. Atlas's justifications crumbled long ago, but he'd just pushed on and on. Unable to sway from his revenge. His conviction turned obsession.
Then so abruptly even that obsession had come to an end. Ryan was dead and now there was nothing to ground him here, but here he remained. Not sure what to do with himself, ghosts dancing in his head and no idea where to go from there.
Was the surface really so appealing anymore? Would it have been better if he'd not been so stubborn and just stayed in that darkness of death he'd been forcibly evicted from.
Thanks, Valery… Atlas thought dryly, smiling grimly as he thought of the steely woman now.
Dragging him kicking and screaming from the quiet of death through her damnable vita-chambers, that did seem like something she would do out of spite. If her ghost still lingered now, she'd surely be furious with his show of weakness.
Giving up was not in her nature and it had never been in his either but… Atlas entertained the idea now.
Atlas thought back to those few seconds he stood in Eleanore's path. Body locked up. Almost allowing for that to be the end. But those plans had been taken from him by Bea's stupid heroics and Fontaines resulting snatch for power.
If Fontaine gained control permanently he'd never be brave enough or smart enough to lay down and let it end. Too selfish and too stubborn to know to call it quits, always digging himself a little bit deeper. Not once acknowledging it was a grave he just kept making deeper but never took the time to lay in.
If things ended by choice, it would need to be Atlas's decision.
By his side Delta stirred and Atlas set those thoughts to the side for the time being.
The scrap of heavy metal clued him in to the kid's restlessness, but he still seemed to be deep under. Just as well, Atlas wasn't sure even he could keep going on like this. The rage was the least of Delta's problems. His body was going to degrade quickly if he didn't reach his daughter.
In a moment of thoughtlessness Atlas took the hand that had been lifted towards the sky they couldn't reach and let it drop down against Delta's helmet. Like he might somehow be able to feel it through the metal in the same way that someone would feel a hand running through their hair.
Distantly he thought of how old Delta really was. Barely more than a boy when he'd arrived. It had been some years since then, he was an adult now and knew pain better than most, even if his memory betrayed him still. The things Delta had experienced no doubt aged someone beyond their years and Atlas, of course, thought of Jack.
How many years had he been forced to grow during those few days in Rapture?
It had been a traumatic experience no thanks to himself, surely that forced Jack to grow more hardened. Then again, Jack did age faster than most to begin with...
However, it may have changed him, that would be on Atlas even if he tried to pawn the blame off onto Ryan or Fontaine again. He'd been the voice in the kid's ear the whole time and it was hard to separate himself from that.
Atlas tried to distance himself from those thoughts as he watched over Delta. He was a wretched state and Atlas was beginning to doubt their ability to get through this. It was all falling apart so quickly...
A small movement from the corner of his eyes caught Atlas's attention. Beatrice was nestled up against Delta's ridged outer shell, curled up tightly and shivering. She couldn't garner any warmth from her guardian despite his inner warmth. For a moment Atlas looked over her, wondering if he'd see more ghosts in her place. He wasn't sure he could handle seeing long dead family again.
Was it really going to hurt each time she looked at him? He wished she wouldn't look at him with such confidence. With trust. It was too easy to remember how his own niece had looked at him with eyes like that, and look where that got her.
That was another viscerally haunting thought that Atlas couldn't bear to harbour.
Bea shivered again and Atlas stood. Quick to focus on the girl's cold rather than memories of fire.
He couldn't go far, that would leave Delta and Bea exposed without at least one set of eyes still keeping a lookout. But he could see old fabric dangling from one of the propped up statues. It hung low enough to reach and when he touched it he found it blessedly dry. Had plenty of time up there to dry since the flooding.
Carefully he gathered up the bottom of it, pulling to see if it would slide away, but of course not. Carefully Atlas reached up, bundling and stretching as much of it as he could and then checking if it was dry the whole way up. His fingers found where the moisture of the statue holding it began and tore it just below that point. Last thing they needed was hypothermia setting in.
With a fairly sizable patch of material collected, Atlas returned to the pair seeing that Beatrice's shaking had gotten worse and begrudgingly he joined her on the ground, feeling somehow smaller than before when sitting by Delta.
Gently he laid the makeshift blanket across the girl and tried to tuck it in around her to keep some of the warmth in, cautious not to move Bea and risk waking her.
After a moment her body seemed to register the change in temperature and took to it enthusiastically. Bea sleepily fumbled for the blanket and tugged it over her shoulders and pulling it in closer. Atlas snorted quietly, satisfied once he saw the trembling die down. He was content to wait a while staring at nothing in particular. He risked falling back into dark thoughts once he was idle, but Atlas knew he could not avoid them forever.
Mercifully he was kept from his own thoughts a little longer as Bea began to move around with more purpose than before.
Evidently he was far warmer than Delta's metal armour and thus became Beatrice's new ideal pillow.
While she would not part fully from the big daddy's side, perhaps due to some lingering little sister behaviours, she still managed to nudge closer to Atlas now he'd joined them. He startled when her little hands balled up against his leg and she curled into the corner created between he and Delta. Settling back down once she'd found something softer, warmer and, likely in her mind, just as safe as Delta to sleep against
Immediately Atlas considered pushing her away. Self disgust rising up violently in himself. Just this small level of trust after all he'd done felt so wrong.
But to shove her away to the cold, unforgiving ground would be a greater crime and so, reluctantly, Atlas also settled and let her rest.
He thought it fitting that the two kids were sleeping soundly while he was wide awake. No rest for the wicked they so the saying went. He did not think it was supposed to be taken quite so literally, but there he was, awake, regardless. He kept his eyes open and stayed alert, listening for any sign of a splicer.
However, it seemed even splicers had to sleep, or more accurately just pass out, he couldn't say for sure which. Rapture had gone quiet, with only the occasional groan or creak to show its disquiet. Like it knew it was dying day by day and was waiting for its well-deserved rest as well.
Atlas could empathise with that, almost envious in a way.
Sighing heavily, Atlas allowed some of the tension to bleed from his bones as he slumped down against Delta, resting a hand gently on Bea's shoulder to make sure the blanket stayed in place. At the very least, he could take a few seconds to just breathe before life went on its merry way.
Idly he wondered if Tenebaum would shoot him on the spot or if she'd have words for him first.
Oh who was he kidding. She always had something scathing to say to him. She'd make the time for it before the bullet.
He'd at least pretend to hear her out.