darling it's better down where it's wetter

[did_unkindly]

It's been a day, it's been a day, it's been a whole damn day -- as near as it's possible to tell in this soggy excuse for a city. It's been a day since he killed Fontaine. And Jack is no closer to getting out. He's still down here. He did everything he was supposed to do and he's still down here.

All he's found is locked-down bathyspheres. Broken submarines. Even the goddamn boats are out of service. Where's Tenenbaum? Where's his fucking rescue?

Jack stares about into the greenish gloom, checks the ammo in his pistol, and then kicks and yanks off the rusting panel of a vending machine. His hands are soon full of little wires and pipes. A few seconds later, he straightens up with a grunt, and the machine gives him a tidy discount on a couple glowing hypos of EVE.

With his visit extended indefinitely, he's begun to wonder how many of them are left.

Now arbitrarily divided into chapters!
Part One: A Scene at the Rapture Adoption Agency ~or~ You Found [Pot of Ham]!
Part Two: Come On-A My House, I'm Gonna Give-A You Candy ~or~ Sinclair? More Like Sin Pantalones!
Part Three: Dream Sequences are a Fresh New Concept in Fiction ~or~ It's My Existential Trauma and I'll Cry if I Want To
Part Four: Southern Education Jokes ~or~ Engineer, Engifar, Engiwherever You Are ~or~ The Grave Escape
Part Five: Golfing Accident Memoirs ~or~ Mom... Dad... I'm Immortal ~or~ How To Make Friends And Immolate People
Part Six: Is It A Pie? Is It A Plane?? ~or~ Two's Company, Three's a Row
Part Seven: Escort Missions! In Rapture! Council's In An Uproar ~or~ Bioshock: Cheesecake Edition
Part Eight: Bread, Milk, BATTLE! ~or~ Pleasant Conversations, How They Bore Me
Part Nine: Choices, Schmoices ~or~ Baby's First Moral Philosophy ~or~ Go Away I Want To Take A Damn Bath
Part Ten: A Man Snoozes; A Slave Delays ~or~ The Four Second Rule Applies To Drugs
Part Eleven: A Hearty Meal ~or~ Skeletons In The-- That's Not A Closet
Part Twelve: We All Live in a Secret Submarine ~or~ Plasmids: Not Even Once
Part Thirteen: Paging Dr Tenenbaum To Surgery ~or~ Bribery And Deduction
Part Fourteen: The Prodigal Son Returns

Comments

[modestman]

Something in her voice tells Sinclair that Tenenbaum wishes at least to some degree that Jack hadn't needed to come back. It was a good thing for several people that he did, but Jack himself is definitely not one of them.

But that answers that. Fontaine didn't die when everyone thought he did. Sinclair assumes he is now, though. It doesn't seem like Jack would be content to wander around Rapture knowing the man who made him what he is is still going about his business like nothing ever happened.

"It's a damn shame," Sinclair shakes his head, blowing smoke out of the corner of his mouth. "Almost makes you wish he never found out about any of it. All those years of memories, then to find out none of it ever happened. Poor kid."

That in itself is another feat altogether. Implanting memories of an entire lifetime up until where he is, a family, a home, experiences, a personality, hopes, fears, etc. And none of it is his own, none of it's real. The ultimate identity crisis.

But it's over for him now, Ryan's dead, Fontaine is dead, legitimately this time. He's starting over, rebuilding. And it's slow going, but Sinclair can already see where it's begun. And once they get to the surface, then he'll be able to make some actual progress. Things will get better for him, so at least there's that much.

[so_shower_maybe]

"And to find out from Ryan and Fontaine," she says bitterly. "There must have been a way easier for him. Perhaps if I had..."

No. She stops; Sinclair's not the kind of sympathetic ear you say these things to.

"Never mind. You do not care."

[modestman]

Wow, that's a little presumptive don't you think?

"I wouldn't say that," he tells her. "What were you going to say?"

[so_shower_maybe]

Oh c'mon, it's not like he's doing his best to radiate 'good Samaritan' vibes.

"My own regrets are not what we agreed to talk about."

[modestman]

"Alright, fair enough." Sinclair flicks his cigarette against the edge of the ash tray. "I know what you must think of me, Doctor, but for the record I care a great deal. This whole matter concerns me now, I've got to care about it."

And he doesn't know precisely what she was about to say, but he thinks he at least understands where she was coming from.

"I don't know that it would have mattered where he heard it first, it all adds up to the same total. If you'd told him as kindly as you could've, it just would have been a slower burn. One way or another he'll have to learn how to get around it, and nobody can do that for him. It's gotta be him."

[so_shower_maybe]

Well that's... an odd sentiment to hear from someone who's done such a good job of projecting that trademark Rapture heartlessness. She frowns at him -- not angrily for once, but in the manner of someone who's been surprised.

"It would be best, of course, if there was nothing to tell," she says after a moment, because nobody has ever accused Tenenbottom of not dwelling on the past. But.

"But to say 'what if' is not useful."

Which Sinclair probably knows. It's more a reminder for herself.

"Has-- he said much of it?"

[modestman]

Sinclair laughs and shakes his head.

"Does he say much about anything? No, I think he's just wishing it would all go away right about now. But he said enough."

He takes a long drag, staring at a spot on the wall somewhere behind Tenenbaum.

"Kid's in a lot of pain over the whole thing. Should've seen his face when he was talking about it, what little he said."

A pause, Sinclair crushes his cigarette in the ashtray and straightens up a little.

"He'll do better topside, we just have to get him there."

[so_shower_maybe]

She... yeah, she has no trouble believing that Jack's going through some trauma about all this.

But Tenenbaum's clock is sort of ticking here. Partly because she's expecting at least one girl to arrive from if when Jack performs his rescue; they don't come to her straight away but she likes to always be there when they do. But partly because this meeting is still missing their prodigal son.

"How long has he been gone?" she asks, 99% keeping the worry out of her voice.

[modestman]

"Oh, I'd say about an hour, maybe more," Sinclair says, glancing at the clock on the wall. "I'm sure he's hoping to find more than one of your girls to try and make up for the loss."

That is if the temptation doesn't get too strong and he decides to change his mind about the whole thing. It's a mild concern in the back of Sinclair's mind, if only because the minute Jack harvests another sister he'll probably lose all possible ties with Tenenbaum. And helping Jack get past his withdrawals or not, those are some valuable ties.

[so_shower_maybe]

She gives that a nod, face still halfway to anxious. Tenenbaum has a similar thought nagging her, that the child might give in to temptation. And what's worse, there's nothing she can really do here and now to make sure he doesn't.

But let's not voice that doubt.

"Soon I must leave," she says instead. "The newly-rescued girls, they will want help when they arrive at my home. But first, I must ask one more thing. The defence systems -- have you examined them?"

[modestman]

"Ryan's?" he frowns. "Well we got pretty friendly with it not too long ago, but no, I can't say I've had much of an opportunity to study any of it too close."

He probably should have while they were at the sub bay, or at least taken the time to figure out where the central part of it was located exactly. See what all they were going to need to get around, but there was a lot going on at the time and Jack needed to get home.

"Why, have you?"

[so_shower_maybe]

"I have been able to look a little at them." In between running a full-time daycare service, so, you know, a very little.

She pauses, weighing the pros and cons of sharing this particular piece of information. But if she's right, then it's not exactly going to help these two get out of Rapture. If anything it'll delay them even further. And if they do figure out a way around it, then maybe she and her girls can get out on the same ride.

"I may be wrong. But it seems that the remote control of the systems has been broken."

Wonder what he'll think of that.

[modestman]

Something in Sinclair's gut churns. An overreaction, probably, but they're so close to figuring out an actual way out of here. They've got Ryan's sub, they're at the absolute most two or three days away from seeing the sun again. There's no place for the word "broken" in any of this, they don't need any more roadblocks. Haven't they had enough already?

"...Define broken."

[so_shower_maybe]

Well. In for a pfennig, in for a mark.

"They will work, I think." They'd better. "But, perhaps, only with a person there to control them."

It's probably clumsily phrased, but it should get the message across. And she has a few reasons to pay attention to how Sinclair responds.

[modestman]

Sinclair shakes his head, continues shaking it as he thinks about what he's going to say. There's no way she can know that for sure, she's not a mechanic, she's just...a highly trained and extremely intelligent doctor...who has been working with Rapture technology since she got here...but that doesn't mean she knows for sure. She can't know for sure.

Even if she's right, it's not the end of the line. They can fix it. Jack can fix it. It can be fixed, it's not anything to worry about. Not right now anyway. He takes a drag, a good long drag, on his cigarette before grinding it out in the ash tray.

"Well," he says, sitting back in his chair. Relaxed. He's totally relaxed. "That's a problem we can face in the morning, I'm sure the kid can work out what's wrong with the damn thing."

[so_shower_maybe]

Well, it's true: she doesn't know for sure. Just like she doesn't know for sure whether Sinclair would give a damn if he had to leave a friend behind to escape. But for both questions, she has her strong suspicions.

Not that he seems too rattled. Unless he's faking. Her suspicions are mixed on that one.

"I am sure he can," Tenenbaum says. Her tone prompts the end of the conversation. And she's not sure, actually -- but they don't need to have a long debate about it. She stands again, not as abrupt as last time, but still on the clock.

"When he returns here," she adds, "send him to my home."

(Worry isn't front and centre, but it's implied: Tenenbaum is not as good as Sinclair at hiding it.)

[modestman]

Sinclair rises to his feet with her, extending his hand. Handshakes are...usually on the cheap side, when it comes to business with him. But in most places it's still considered a gesture of goodwill, and if Tenenbaum will accept it, that's a gesture he'd like to offer her. Whether Jack does what he set out to do or the opposite.

"I'll send him right over," he agrees. "Don't forget your groceries, doctor."

[so_shower_maybe]

For someone who's worked with Fontaine, empty handshakes are familiar. She engages his hand without smiling. Though to be fair, she does a lot of things without smiling.

"Thank you." It's a useful phrase to end a difficult conversation.

"Do you have a... bag, or a basket?"

[modestman]

"I ought to, somewhere," Sinclair says, making his way back out to the kitchen, heading straight for the cabinets. They're stocked, all of them, with cans of fruit and vegetables, preserved meat and spreads. It might occur to him to be embarrassed at having so much when everyone else in this city has so little, but it doesn't. Not when there's so much else eating up his thoughts.

About three cabinets down he finds a decent sized paper bag, which he takes down and empties of its contents (alcohol, mostly) and gives to Tenenbaum.

"Anything you like," he reminds her. "I've got some picking up to do before the kid gets back, so I'll leave you to it." Mostly true; if he doesn't do what picking up he can now, it'll only get worse when Jack returns.

[so_shower_maybe]

There's a little bit of frank envy on Tenenbaum's face as she starts opening cabinets. Maybe even a raised eyebrow. She doesn't say anything, but goddamn, so this is where all the food has been sitting while her girls have been going without. You know what, she can make peace with having bought it a little bit questionably. This'll do more than just help them scrape by -- this stuff is practically luxury.

She doesn't pick up the pleasant small talk. All she's doing here is stuff the bag with the best she can find -- meats and beans for protein, canned vegetables, thick glass bottles of clean water. At the back of her mind she's aware that she's taking from Jack as well as from this douchebag over here. But said douchebag seems confident enough that he'll be able to get more, so she doesn't hold back until the bag and her pockets are full.

[modestman]

Sinclair waits in his room until he hears the door shut behind her. Once the silence settles in again, he goes out to survey the damage.

It's amazing how much you can fit into those little paper bags, his cabinets look at least 40% emptier than when he walked away just a minute ago.

He smiles to himself. A successful interaction. He accomplished most of what he needed today and did his part to ensure that there would be further interactions in the future. The rest is on Jack, even if he doesn't know it.

So for now, there's not much else to do but wait. Anxiously. Whether Jack comes home looking refreshed and satisfied or whether Jack comes home looking high as a goddamn kite, dripping the green of some little girl's life force is going to define whether or not today is a good day for Augustus Sinclair.

[did_unkindly]

And Jack...



...






. . .





...Jack takes his sweet time getting back.

[modestman]

An hour passes.

Sinclair has picked up the same book about ten times and read the same page over and over about fifty without ever actually taking anything in.

Another hour, and Sinclair starts wondering whether he ought to go out looking for him. The answer to that is obviously a resounding No, but he does wonder how much longer he's going to wait before he really should go out looking.

But there's no reason for that, it's not as if Sinclair is worried for Jack's safety. He's just...a little nervous about Jack's decision making skills. Going out and looking for him won't accomplish anything. He'll be back. Eventually.

In the mean time, Sinclair lies down on the sofa and tries to rest. Sleep won't happen, but he can at least try and kill some time recharging a bit.

[did_unkindly]

The moment Sinclair's head hits the cushions, there's a crackling static noise. The radio whines as a signal tries to get through.

[modestman]

And the moment he hears that, Sinclair bolts upright, fumbling for the short wave.

"...Chief?" he says into it, a bit over-eagerly. Tone it down there, guy, you were just relaxing at home. Everything's cool.