Chapter Text
Tenenbaum looked down the barrel of her gun and felt pity.
The boy was shaking, hugging a pile of scrap metal to his chest, but stared up at her defiantly. His grubby shirt was smeared in the same oil and dirt that coated his face.
“You are just a child”, Tenenbaum noted. From the clattering and banging she had heard, she expected a Splicer.
“I’m 16”, the boy said defensively.
She glanced at the scraps in his arms. “What is that?” she asked, still suspicious.
The boy didn’t glance down. “A new weapon I’m developing. It can fire molten metal.”
Tenenbaum now saw that the twisted wreckage the boy was holding had the resemblance of a thick gun. “What are you doing in a place like this?”
The boy shrank back a little. “I thought maybe there would be food or a safe place to sleep. Olympus Heights is the lap of luxury, after all. I crawled into the vents a few days ago. Um- please don’t tell anybody-”
Tenenbaum tilted her head curiously. “And did you complete this goal?”
He shook his head. “I have a place to sleep but I’ve only been able to find rotten food. I don’t know where they dispose of most of it.”
Tenenbaum finally lowered her gun to her side. “You come with me. I will feed you.”
The boy narrowed his eyes, looking her up and down.
Tenenbaum rolled her eyes and holstered her gun, raising her hands innocently.
The boy finally nodded, getting to his feet with his weapon cradled to his chest.
Tenenbaum turned on her heel and, not checking to see if he followed, led the way to her apartment.
The few people they passed gave her and her companion strange looks, turning up their noses, but she paid them no mind, absently wringing her hands as she thought.
The child was smart, that was obvious. He had built his own weapon from scratch and clearly possessed a strong survival instinct. He could be very useful. And, on some level, she felt sad for his circumstances.
Tenenbaum suppressed an uncomfortable twitch. She was still getting used to feeling her feelings.
She held the door for the boy to duck inside, noting his slight hesitancy when he read her name on the door. She gestured for him to sit as she rummaged through the last of her food.
“What is your name?” she asked, sweeping aside old cans and wrappers she had never bothered to clean.
“Silas Walker”, he responded, settling his gun in his lap.
Tenenbaum tutted. “What is your middle name?”
“Vincent”, he said slowly, confused.
“I will call you Vincent”, she said, turning around with a few Pep Bars in her hands.
‘Vincent’ wrinkled his nose. “Fine, but I want a nickname. How about… Vince?”
“No”, she said, placing the bars in front of him, watching as he ravenously ripped one open.
“Vinnie?” he asked through a mouthful of chocolate.
“Absolutely not.”
He swallowed the food and reached for another. “…Enzo?”
Tenenbaum thought for a moment. “Hmm. Yes, that will do.”
“Cool”, Enzo said, stuffing another bar in his mouth.
She watched him eat for a moment. “Why are you on your own?”
Enzo shrugged.
“You do not want to answer me”, she noted.
Enzo shook his head, shoving the last Pep Bar in his pocket. “Sorry. I appreciate the food, though. It’ll keep me going for another day or so.”
Tenenbaum crossed her arms. “I cannot let you return.”
Enzo’s eyes widened. “You’re turning me in?!”
Tenenbaum waved her hand in dismissal. “No, no, of course not. But it is not right to let you walk away to die with no food.”
“I won’t die”, Enzo said defensively. He paused. “Not immediately, anyway…”
“You will come with me. I am leaving this place for another.” She looked around her mostly barren apartment. “I only returned to collect my last belongings.”
“…do I have a choice?” Enzo asked, hunching his shoulders.
“Of course”, Tenenbaum said, slinging a bag over her shoulder. “But I have food and a safe place to stay. You do not trust me, and that is fine, but the better choice would be to take the risk, yes?”
Enzo thought it over for a bit, rocking back and forth on the chair. “Okay”, he said finally. “I can’t go on like this forever, I guess.”
Tenenbaum nodded. “You are a smart boy.”
Enzo, not entirely sure how to accept the compliment, scratched the back of his head.
Tenenbaum gestured to him and they left the apartment together.
“They called you a madwoman, you know”, Enzo said as they walked.
Tenenbaum arched an eyebrow. “You knew this and still ate my food?”
He shrugged.
Tenenbaum considered him. “You are strange.”
“Thank you”, he nodded.
They stopped when they reached a drainage pipe. Tenenbaum glanced briefly around then ducked inside.
Enzo wrinkled his nose at the smell of sewage, but followed, shifting his weapon in his hands.
They trudged through the near darkness for several minutes until they came across a metal door. With a grunt of effort, Tenenbaum tugged it open, holding it for Enzo to slip inside.
Enzo paused. He was in a large room, a waterway running down the left side protected by iron bars. Child-sized bunk and single beds lined the walls, as well as bookshelves, tables, chairs and dressers. Toy chests covered in chalk drawings and plush bears were scattered around the room.
Enzo turned around and saw a window, behind which more beds lay. Only one of the beds was a double, clearly Tenenbaum’s.
“What is this place?” he asked, grip tightening on the gun.
“A sanctuary of sorts”, Tenenbaum said, pushing the door closed. She looked around, tapping a finger to her chin. “We will have to get you a bed. You will not fit in the girls’.”
“The girls?” Enzo asked, voice cracking a little. He knew that Tenenbaum had worked with the Little Sisters but it had never crossed his mind that he would be surrounded by them. “Oh.”
Tenenbaum’s eyes narrowed. “What is wrong?”
“No, nothing!” Enzo said quickly. He shifted nervously under Tenenbaum’s gaze. “Okay, fine, they’re a little bit… creepy.”
The doctor tutted. “They are just little girls, the same way you are just a boy.”
“I’m 16!” Enzo protested.
“We must get you clothing”, Tenenbaum said, ignoring him and entering an adjacent room. She emerged after a moment, throwing a pile of clothes at his head.
“That will do. You may change there.” She waved her hand at a door before turning to a pile of papers on a desk.
Enzo nodded, carrying his things into the small room which looked like a dingy bathroom. He gently placed his weapon within arms reach before changing into the clothes the doctor had given him, brown pants and a black shirt.
He straightened his collar in the cracked mirror and squared his shoulders, letting his nerves out with a heavy sigh, before leaving the bathroom.
He looked around for a bit until he found Tenenbaum in a lab, hunched over some charts. He walked in and, when Tenenbaum didn’t react, took a seat.
“Doctor?” he asked after a moment.
“Hm?”
“What do you do here?”
Tenenbaum didn’t look up from her papers as she responded. “I am working on a cure for my Little Sisters. A Plasmid that will remove the slugs from their bellies.”
Enzo cocked his head. “Slugs?”
“Yes. The sea slugs containing ADAM made them what they are. With this technology, the creatures could hypothetically be removed.”
“Wouldn’t that hurt?”
Tenenbaum, seemingly surprised at Enzo’s interest, finally turned to him. “It would not. Pain is only caused if the slugs are removed forcefully. This Plasmid would dissolve them and cause no harm to the hosts.”
“So, when will you start using the Plasmid?”
Tenenbaum sighed. “I do not know. It is not ready yet. A few more tests.” She paused. “You should rest.”
Enzo nodded, standing to leave.
“Enzo?” Tenenbaum called.
He turned to her.
She looked at him for a moment. “Do not sleep with the gun in the bed. Leave it on the floor. I do not want to wash your body from my spare mattress.”
With those charming parting words, Enzo scurried from the lab and back to the main room with all of the beds. He saw that a large mattress had been laid out on the floor in a corner, layered with a blanket and a few pillows.
He crawled under the thin, scratchy covering, reluctantly letting his gun fall from his grip to the floor, still within arm’s reach. He tossed and turned for a bit, overwhelmed.
He considered running away. Enzo was not a fan of changes, especially sudden and major ones. The ventilation system and dark underbelly of Rapture was miserable but it was familiar. It had been his version of “normal” for the past year, since his parents had disappeared, another big change that he had not been prepared for.
That was a second reason to leave. He had to find them. They had been acting strange for a long time before they vanished one evening. Shady figures, missing money, lost jobs; it all seemed to come crumbling down.
But his parents were good people. And he couldn’t accept that the ones who raised him his entire life, read him bedtime stories, taught him to build engines, faked being sick at work to watch movies with him when he was upset, had simply up and left him one day.
The thought made Enzo even more distressed. He cocooned himself in his blanket, watching the vents out of the corner of his eye. The last thing he wanted right now was for a creepy toddler to crawl out of the walls.
Despite his determination to find his family, however, it wouldn’t be good for his health. He was already very small for his age, and malnourished on top of that. At the very least, he needed food.
He sighed, rubbing his face and finally settling into the pillows. He kept his eyes on the vents and, eventually, they drifted shut.