Chapter Text
Ryan Industries, Tenenbaum’s Private Lab - 1958
Fontaine spun around to whoever brushed their fingertips against his forearm.
His wild eyes landed on Tenenbaum. A look of calm knowing on her face as she retracted her hand ever so slightly, but not out of fear, almost as if she anticipated such a reaction.
His erratic, jagged breaths slowly steadied as he turned to see Jack in her arms; his eyes softening, relief washing over him.
Jack pulled his head from Tenenbaum’s shoulder. Tears still staining his face and lip quivering, Jack reached his tiny hands out to Fontaine.
Tenenbaum stared in surprise. Her surprise only grew when it elicited little reaction from Fontaine. He simply stepped up to her and took Jack back in his arms without much thought.
Like it was natural.
Like he was supposed to.
She watched this bloodied, battered, hardened criminal hold the toddler close to his heart. The boy squeezed the back of his neck and buried his face into Fontaine, as if he was something safe to cling to.
Tenenbaum knew the feeling.
Fontaine closed his eyes. His breathing turned soft against Jack’s scalp as he swayed ever so slightly. His hands around the boy, protectively…gently.
This was a side of Fontaine she’d only seen glimpses of. One she’d only seen when they were alone. A vulnerable…tender…human version of Fontaine.
But never with a stranger, let alone a child.
It could be part of the act. Sometimes his lies were even too good for her to recognize.
But she saw that look in his eye.
Heard the desperation in his voice.
Tenenbaum was certain Fontaine had never been more authentic.
She looked between the two wrung-out boys, holding one another in breathing silence before glancing back the way she came.
“I think I found where they got in.” Tenenbaum nodded, pulling the revolver back from her smock. “I need to seal it up. I’ll be back-“
“No.” Fontaine’s voice was gravel as he slowly turned to her. “We stick together.”
His Atlas performance had all but disappeared, but Jack didn’t seem to notice or care.
Tenenbaum nodded with a heavy heart. She began heading into the hallway they came from, with Fontaine lagging just a few paces behind.
Retrieving the flashlight she had in her coat, Tenenbaum led the way through the maze. Her revolver ready but finger off the trigger. She was quite certain the threat had passed, but stayed alert anyway.
Fontaine followed, clutching Jack to his chest. He could feel the boy going limp as he slowly drifted off in Fontaine’s arms.
The two walked on for a while. Fontaine only slowed as the trio approached two splicer bodies lying face down. Tenenbaum noticed and looked back at him.
“I told you I’d shoot someone if I had to.”
The faintest smirk ghosted Fontaine before they continued on.
Finally, they were standing in front of a door that had been ripped open. One of those splicers must’ve had the Sports Boost plasmid to tear through this locked steel door. Through the doorway were a couple of generators that had been smashed to pieces. Beyond the generators was a large wire duct where they must’ve crawled through. Outside of the door in the hall, a pile of ceiling tile dust sat. Looking above it, they could see some of the tiles had been moved and torn through.
Beside the open doorway was a large beige locker-type cabinet. Setting her flashlight on the ground to cast in her direction and tucking the gun away, Tenenbaum moved beside the locker.
The locker was three times her size. Fontaine watched as she struggled to push the heavy thing even an inch.
Making his way over to her, Fontaine wordlessly offered Jack to Tenenbaum. After another look of surprise, Tenenbaum took the sleeping child and stepped back.
Fontaine pressed his shoulder against the side of the locker, wincing slightly, and in one hard heave, pushed it into place. The doorway was as sealed as it could be at the moment.
“Doctor?” A male voice called out somewhere in the dark.
“Scheiße…” Tenenbaum took up her flashlight and glanced around.
(Shit…)
Finding a utility closet, Tenenbaum grabbed Fontaine, dragging him over. Regretfully waking Jack up to her quick movements- Tenenbaum dumped the boy back in Fontaine’s arms before pushing them both into the closet.
“They can’t see either of you.” She nodded. “Stay put, I’ll be back.”
With that, she shut the door in Fontaine’s face.
Fontaine stared at the surface of the closet door for a dazed beat before Jack began to sniffle.
“It’s alright, boyo.” He rubbed Jack’s back, finding Atlas again. “If she says she’ll be back, she’ll be back.”
A group of Ryan’s security stumbled into the computer room, their eyes going wide at the four brutal, bloody corpses laid out among the rows.
“What the hell happened?” One of them grunted in disgust.
“You’re not authorized to be here!”
The guards snapped around to see Tenenbaum in the doorway, revolver at her side and flashlight in hand. She was covered in sweat, hair wild, and small splatterings of blood about.
“Dr. Tenenbaum?! Are you alright?”
“I’m fine.” She huffed. “You’re not authorized to be down here.”
“The rogue splices were retreating this way, we had to chase them down-“
“Which has proved to be unnecessary.” She gestured to the bodies with her revolver. “I can take care of my own lab, thank you very much.”
The men looked down at the bodies, particularly the one with the caved-in face.
“You did this?”
Tenenbaum blinked at the guard, not giving him an answer. She didn’t have the energy to lie vocally, but to lie with a look…all she had to do was feel.
And she was feeling a lot at the moment.
The guards stared at the small, slender woman, a dangerous expression glaring back at them. Unnerving looks were traded amongst the men, but not an ounce of doubt.
“Ma’am, we should make a sweep to be sure-“
“Unnecessary again. I’ve already done so.” Tenenbaum stepped closer, hand out.
The guard’s confused look shifted between her and the palm of her open hand.
“You have lost privileges to your emergency access card.” Tenenbaum stated it like he was a child being put in time-out. “Please hand it over and make quick exit from my lab.”
“Doctor, I don’t think-“ But the guard stopped mid-sentence, seeing the expression again on her face.
He looked among his men whose attention were all averted elsewhere. Reluctantly, the guard pulled his card free and handed it over.
Tenenbaum dropped it in her coat. “I’ll escort you out.”
Opening the closet door, Tenenbaum panicked for half a second, thinking it was empty before glancing down to see Fontaine seated in the corner. Before she’d opened it, he was hunched over Jack but quickly snapped up upon the door’s opening.
Both of their panic vanished upon seeing one another.
“I walked them out and took their key.” Tenenbaum sighed. “We should be alone the rest of the night.”
Fontaine nodded, slowly climbing to his feet. Tenenbaum could see he was in pain, offering to take Jack from him, but he refused, silently volunteering to carry Jack to the front lab.
Outside of sleeping, Tenenbaum had never been around a quiet Fontaine for so long. Not one joke. Not one laugh. She’d never known a man who loved the sound of his own voice more.
And yet they walked in silence.
She could see it, a storm brewing behind his eyes.
A familiar storm.
As the two entered the main part of the lab, Tenenbaum set herself to find some candles so the dark room could have more light outside of rippling blues and greens.
“Don’t wanna sleep in my room.” Jack’s voice squeaked.
Tenenbaum was barely able to catch it as she turned to see Fontaine making his way over to his cot.
“No, of course not, lad. I ain’t t’at evil.” Fontaine began setting Jack on the cot, the energy of his Atlas persona returning along with the voice now. “You sleep right here, alright?”
Jack kept hold of Fontaine’s sleeve.
“I ain’t goin’ nowhere, don’t worry them golden locks of yours.” He sat beside Jack and brushed some hair from his eyes like he’d seen Tenenbaum do. Fontaine thought a moment before he licked his thumb and began wiping the blood smears off Jack’s face.
Tenenbaum felt her heart go heavy as she watched the interaction, slowly lighting a few candles before finding the medical kit.
“Get some rest now, boyo.” Fontaine smiled, finishing wiping his face. “I’ll be right here.”
Tenenbaum rolled a chair over for Fontaine to sit. Hesitantly, Fontaine moved from the cot, but kept the chair close. Jack only closed his eyes once he saw that both he and Tenenbaum had planted themselves beside his bed.
It didn’t take long for soft snores the fill the air.
Setting down the medical kit, Tenenbaum couldn’t help but stare at Fontaine. He was still. Quiet. Tired. So unlike himself in this moment as he watched over the sleeping child.
“You saved him.” She said, almost a whisper. “Thank you.”
Fontaine blinked, glancing at her and then back to Jack, like he was waking up from some kind of walking coma. Straightening his back, Fontaine shrugged. “Well…I spent a lot of money on him.” He said plainly. “Didn’t want it to go to waste.”
Tenenbaum nodded, a faint, unconvinced smile on her lips. “Whatever the reason, I’m grateful.”
Fontaine didn’t look at her, just gave another silent nod.
“You broke your stitches.” She pointed to the un-torn bleeding side of his shirt, before looking at his other injuries. “And it looks like you’ll need some more.”
“The big one looks worse than it is.” He looked down at his red-stained torso. “It’s the one in my shoulder that stings somethin’ awful.”
“Here.”
Fontaine looked up as Tenenbaum stood in front of him, not hesitating to unbutton his shirt. She made a disapproving tsking sound at the blood-soaked, hole-filled fabric. Fontaine winced as Tenenbaum began helping him out of his sleeves. She tossed the shirt to the end of the cot and began wiping a damp rag across his chest and shoulder.
Fontaine’s breathing hitched as she leaned closer, putting a hand on his waist as she delicately cleaned his wounds. He couldn’t help but stare at her as she worked.
Fontaine cleared his throat. “You showed up just in the nick of time.” He said it in a tone of voice reserved for thanking someone.
“I would’ve been there sooner, but it took me a while to find you.” She chuckled lightly. “You went in the complete wrong direction.”
“Well, excuse me, it was very dark and I’ve never been here before.” Fontaine’s playful tone returned, a comforting sound to Tenenbaum.
Pressing him further back into the chair, Tenenbaum began carefully restitching his side. “Going to need to give you antibiotics and maybe a few other things.”
A good 20 minutes passed by in silence as Tenenbaum finished all the stitches and began the bandaging process. Her eyes fell to his tattered stained shirt again.
“Guess I’ll have to get you another shirt.” She shook her head teasingly.
“You can’t throw that one away, though.”
Tenenbaum looked up at him, confused. “Why not?”
Straining against the chair and her hold on him, Fontaine reached over to grab the sleeve. Unrolling the cuff, he held it up to her with a grin.
“What?”
Fontaine’s smile wavered. “It’s one of mine, right?”
“Yes…” She squinted at him. “I don’t keep many men’s shirts on hand.”
Fontaine’s smile vanished altogether. “You keep other men’s shirts?”
Tenenbaum couldn’t help but laugh. “Not at the moment, no.”
“Oh. Good.” Fontaine nodded before shaking his head. “I mean…not like good good. Not like I’m glad….or whateveh…”
Fontaine’s eyes found the floor. Tenenbaum bit her lip to keep from laughing at him again. Her eyes danced across his reddening face before she looked over at the shirt sleeve in his hand.
“How can you tell it’s one of yours? The stain?”
He looked back up at her, uncharacteristically unsure of himself now. “Yeah, um…this was that night you asked me if I ever thought about my parents.”
Tenenbaum had to think a moment to recall the memory.
“You told me your parents took you to an aquarium and that you remembered dancin’.” Fontaine shrugged. “You didn’t like my opinions on art.”
Tenenbaum stared down at him curiously, the night hazily replaying in her head. She took the sleeve from him and ran her thumb over the purple stain. “Es sind die Tragödien, die uns aufbauen oder zerstören.”
“It’s the tragedies that make us, or break us.” Fontaine recalled.
“You remember all that?”
“Yeah.”
“From a stain?”
“I ain’t never told no one that stuff about my parents. Not the true story at least.” Fontaine scratched the bandaging on his shoulder. “Hard for me to forget.”
The playfulness from earlier had faded into something reeking dangerously of sincerity.
Tenenbaum continued to study Fontaine’s avoidant gaze. “And you remembered I stained your sleeve that night?”
Fontaine finished picking at his bandaging and nodded.
“It’s a very nice, expensive shirt.” She felt the fabric. “You never said anything.”
Fontaine rubbed the side of his face. “Purple was always your color. I didn’t mind it getting on me.”
Slowly, Tenenbaum’s eyes raised up to meet his. She had no idea what to think or say about that, only that it made her heart feel some type of way she couldn’t explain.
“Not that I ever got to.” Fontaine scoffed. “Seein’ as you stole my shirt and all.”
“As I said, it’s a very nice shirt.” She smirked.
The image of Tenenbaum possibly lounging around at home alone in his shirt made Fontaine lightheaded. It didn’t help that she tilted his chin up to meet her as she began wiping the blood off his face in smooth, gentle strokes.
Fontaine would’ve never guessed that one day he would have trouble making eye contact with her.
Tenenbaum cleaned his face much longer than necessary before tossing the rag aside. She stayed stood in front of him, his knees on either side of her. Fontaine’s breath grew tight as he reluctantly drew his eyes up to meet her. He couldn’t read Tenenbaum’s expression as she stared directly into him. Then, reaching up, she gingerly began combing her fingers through Fontaine’s hair, his eyelids fluttering as she did.
Once she got all the hair out of his face, Tenenbaum leaned even closer, slowly pressing a kiss on his forehead. Fontaine closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath before she pulled away, her lips still hovering above his eyebrows.
“You need to rest, Frank.” She whispered.
Fontaine blinked his eyes back open as she suddenly stepped away. His gaze followed her to one of the locker-type cabinets in the room as she opened it to reveal a folded up second blue cot.
Tenenbaum began carrying it over, but Fontaine was quick to his feet, taking it from her and unfolding it beside Jack.
As he set it up, Tenenbaum brought over a pillow and a blanket to toss on top of it.
Fontaine stood over the cot for a moment before turning to Tenenbaum, seeing the dark circles under her eyes just as prominent, if not even more so than this morning.
“Did you get any sleep today?”
Tenenbaum was taken aback by the question. “Not really. Had a lot of work to catch up on.”
“You should sleep.”
“Frank-“
“I got 12 hours worth and more. I’m fine.” Fontaine held his hand out to her. “I’ll keep watch, just in case any of my lost disciples come back.”
Tenenbaum looked between his asking hand and his wounds. “Frank, I am uninjured. You must rest in order to heal.”
“I’m not taking no for an answer on this one, Brigid.” He cocked his head. “We need ya runnin’ top speed. Can’t do that on fumes.”
Tenenbaum looked at him, unsure.
“You might have to patch me up again, and I don’t want ya accidentally stabbin’ me with a needle where you aren’t supposed to.” He grinned, beckoning with his hand again.
Letting out a grudging sigh, Tenenbaum reached into her pocket and handed Fontaine her revolver. Walking behind her, he helped her remove her coat and tossed it on the back of the desk chair.
Tenenbaum looked down at the cot, having no desire to get any closer. Looking up at him, Fontaine smiled softly, gesturing her to the bed before he took his seat.
Taking in another strained breath, Tenenbaum climbed onto the cot before slipping off her shoes and rolling to face Jack. A doting smile found its way on her face as she watched the little boy sleep so soundly. She fixed the blanket around him and then herself.
Tenenbaum watched Jack sleep for a few minutes in the quiet. Waiting restlessly. Counting seconds.
Finally, she glanced up at Fontaine a couple feet away, hoping he might’ve fallen asleep in the chair, but was disappointed. He gently rocked back and forth in the swivel chair with his elbow propped on the armrest and chin in his palm. The revolver stayed ready in his lap as he glanced between the pair and the back door.
Fontaine smirked when he caught her looking at him. Raising a free hand to his face, he pinched his eyes closed for a moment.
Tenenbaum scoffed and took the hint, forcing herself to lie back on the pillow and actually try closing her eyes this time.
Only when Tenenbaum stopped fidgeting was Fontaine sure she’d finally fallen asleep.
He watched them sleep for as much of the night as he could remember. Seeing them safe, at peace…
A whirlwind was happening inside Fonatine that he didn't understand. One he needed to lock away eventually. But at the moment...
...something about being here with the two of them…it felt right.
Like it was natural.
Like he was supposed to.