Not everybody gets second chances.
Who: Booker, Serah and Elizabeth What: Elizabeth breaks into Booker's place. She gets caught When: Last friday Where: Booker's place Rating: Pg-13 Status: complete Warning: MASSIVE Bioshock Infinite spoilers, enter at your own risk.
It wasn’t the polite way to meet your father by any means, but Elizabeth didn’t precisely care. Now that she was settled into the area and she’d managed to get her hands on a really good set of lockpicks (from the liquidation of the pawn shop’s stock, ironically), her hands were itching to stick her nose where it didn’t belong.
And where it really didn’t belong was in her would-be father’s apartment, especially in the middle of the night. She could have slipped in through one of the windows, but instead she picked the lock on his apartment door and quietly let herself in. The place wasn’t really what she’d been expecting, but then… she also hadn’t been sure what to expect.
She started looking around the place, hoping to find something personal of his that she could steal. Because… nothing said ‘getting to know you’ like theft.
There wasn’t really much there to begin with. His apartment was spartan and somewhat clean, at least for a bachelor. But he’d cleaned it recently because when bringing home a woman one wanted an apartment that wasn’t too terribly messy.
In fact, he was laying in bed, with his arm around someone right this moment.
The first place Elizabeth checked was the kitchen, but of course there was very little of value there aside from some bottles of liquor in the fridge. Elizabeth didn't much like the taste of liquor, so she avoided those and headed into the living room.
She rifled through the couch cushions then, feeling triumphant when her hand came in contact with a cold box of metal. It had to be one of those fancy lighters. She wondered what it was doing buried in the couch, but shrugged and pocketed it all the same. There wasn't much else of value to be bothered with, so she headed to the bedroom.
When she realised that someone was home - in fact, two someones- she stopped dead in her tracks and put her hands over her face. This was very personal. It was none of her business. Did that girl have pink hair? Elizabeth cracked her eye open and pulled one of her hands down to get another look at it.
Booker, still half asleep, pawed at his partner. The woman there snuggled in against him. She seemed to be not much older than Elizabeth. They were both very naked, and the sheets had the telltale signs of being very well used the night before. Serah, actually, really needed to get up, as she planned on slipping out while Booker was asleep. In fact, she slid out of bed, replacing herself with a pillow. She started to dress, still too sleepy to notice there was someone there.
Serah may not have noticed Elizabeth, but Elizabeth definitely noticed Serah. She noticed that Serah was almost her age, and it made her nearly physically ill, for starters. She noticed Serah's figure and that she was naked and covered her hands back over her face.
Then, finally - and probably a bit more importantly - she noticed that someone was awake and that she was about to get caught. She slipped out of the bedroom and ran towards the living room, while screaming internally.
Serah heard the footsteps, and only in a pair of pants gave chase! She flung her hand out, trying to actually direct a spell this time. A slowing spell, which should hopefully give her time to catch up. She didn’t even think to call out for help.
The air sounded like it was warping around Elizabeth, and then suddenly she found that she was running slower than molasses in January. It made her actually gasp in panic, a slow-motion gasp that sounded a little funny.
None of this was actually funny, though, and Elizabeth definitely wasn't laughing. She tried to force herself to run faster, towards the door or even a window, but there was no use. No matter how fast she tried to run, she kept on going at the same very slow pace.
“Oh wow I wasn’t expecting that to work!” For being early morning, just awake after being screwed senseless, she was awfully perky. She brandished a firepoker and waved it at Elizabeth. “Just where do you think you’re going?”
The disturbing part was probably how compentent she looked with a weapon in her hand.
"I'm... Just leaving?" Elizabeth responded, while still trying to make for the door. It was absolutely futile, though, and she eventually stopped even fighting it. She sighed, "You really look like you could hurt me with that. I assure you, that isn't necessary."
“You break into a man’s home, and trust me I’m a lot nicer than he is. I mean he has his fine points and he’s a secret softie, but don’t tell him I said that.” She patted the poker against her hand, then pointed it back at Elizabeth. “Don’t try to move, I can freeze your feet and I don’t know how to undo that yet so it’s probably good I don’t try.”
"Well... He isn't..." Elizabeth blinked a bit, and tilted her head to the side, "A secret softie, really?"
“Yes? He’s kind of like a big teddy bear when you get to know him.” Pause. “Okay he’s an asshole but only if you don’t know him. Why are we having this conversation? You’re the intruder here!”
"Well I'm only intruding because I wanted to know more about him, and he's not exactly the easiest person to get to know!" Elizabeth countered, folding her arms.
“I don’t know, you could say hello to him? He helped me out of a bind once.” She shook her head and threatened Elizabeth with the poker again. “Empty your pockets, or I’ll call for him!”
Elizabeth sighed. There was no way that Serah was going to understand her or why she'd done this. It wasn't as easy as 'saying hello', that was for sure. And she was too smart to carry anything of value in her visible pockets. She reached her hands into them and pulled out a bus pass. She held it up in the air so that the pink-haired girl could inspect it.
“Really? That’s it?” Serah squinted at her, trying to figure out if she was being fooled.
Booker chose that moment to walk into the living room, and pause mid-shirt-buttoning-up. He gaped. “...Elizabeth?”
"Mr. DeWitt." Elizabeth replied, pocketing her bus pass again. She glanced at Serah, then returned her gaze to Booker, and folded her arms back over her chest, "I see your taste towards younger women doesn't merely apply to me."
Booker grimaced. He really wished that Rachel had picked up the phone earlier, this would be less awkward. “It’s complicated. What the fuck are you doing here?”
Serah just rolled her eyes. “I think he just calls me up because the old lady he shacked up with dumped his butt.”
“Neena ain’t old,” Booker snapped.
"Is that the woman on the internet who warned me about condoms?" Elizabeth raised her eyebrows a bit, then glanced at Serah again, "Apparently he doesn't like to use them, but you look smart enough to make him."
Cautiously, Elizabeth stepped a foot in Booker's direction. She was wondering if that... whatever it had been... was still working on her feet. Now that the cat was out of the bag, she probably wasn't going to be running anywhere anytime soon, but she still wanted to be able to walk normally, "I was just... familiarizing myself with your territory. Mostly."
Serah didn't know who she wanted to hit more right now. Elizabeth for her sass, or Booker for being Booker. She turned and looked at him. "Another Ex, Booker?"
"It ain't like I have that many, and no." He was getting more and more irritated and yeah sometimes he deserved the ribbing but he was getting more and more sick of it. "By breakin' an' enterin'?"
"I acquired certain skills while I was locked away on my father's grounds. I like to brush up on those skills from time to time, and..." Elizabeth sighed. This was all getting out of hand. She'd just wanted to snoop on him a bit, get to know her father without having to deal with him in person.
She leaned on one hip and looked down at the ground, "I was hoping I'd learn something about you that would help me figure you out better. I didn't think I'd get caught, and I didn't... I kind of expected you to be alone if I was."
"You know I think I'm going to head home before my sister decides to kill one or both of us." Serah started to back towards Booker's room so she could get the rest of her clothing.
Booker licked his teeth and then wished he had a cigarette on hand, but he was out. "You could just ask." Expected him to be alone? Great, she probably has a worse opinion of him now than she did in the dreams. "But I guess since I'm a thug you just assume shit."
"I never called you a Thug! And it's normal to assume that someone would be home alone on a weeknight, especially if they whined and moaned on the internet about how Love wasn't worth it anymore and they had nothing to live for!" Elizabeth shouted. Those words had hurt her more than she realised, at least until now. She wanted to throw things at him.
“Ain’t love between me an’ her,” Booker said, honestly. “Just comfort when we need it. Better than eatin’ a bullet ain’t it?!”
Serah heard that and frowned. She dressed, then opened the drawer where she knew Booker kept his gun. She darted her eyes, and then cast an ice spell on it. Frozen and brittle, the barrel snapped off like it was wood.
She closed the drawer and then sauntered out. “You’ve got a lot to live for! Just because you have a down moment, doesn’t mean that there aren’t going to be good times anymore. This makes, what, two ex-girlfriends that care about you? And I’m pretty sure anyone else who likes to sleep with you cares too.” She pointed at him. “So no eating bullets, or I swear to god I’ll raise you back up and then hit you.”
Booker just stared at Serah like she had three heads.
"Raise him back up?" Elizabeth raised both of her eyebrows up. Serah had definitely done something to slow her earlier and then made mention of freezing her feet in place. She was suddenly fascinated instead of upset with Booker, "That's amazing! Can you really do that? Are you... some kind of witch? I've read some fascinating literature about modern day paganism but nothing conclusive enough..."
But wait, what? Ex-girlfriend? She blinked, “I’m NOT his ex-girlfriend, I’m his daughter!”
"Well I can cast some cure spells and I know there's a spell to resurrect someone if they're not too far gone, but..." she was still new at it and her powers fluctuated. "Wait what?!?!"
Booker, meanwhile, looked like he'd just seen a ghost. "What???"
He shook his head. "No, no, my daughter was kidnapped, they never found her...I looked and I looked and ... and she's dead, she's gone."
Blood dribbled out of one of his nostrils. A tug of war played out in his head and he could see it from both angles.
"She's not dead, and she's not gone! She was sold to a man named Zachary Comstock, because his wife couldn't have any children! They kept her locked in one mansion or another her entire life, because they were so afraid that someday someone would recognize her!" Elizabeth shouted. She'd come all this way and found him, finally said it, and now he was denying it!?
But it all seemed wrong anyway. Like there was more to the story than what she was telling, more than she knew, and in a way that was entirely impossible. Her own nose started to bleed, and she reached up a hand to wipe it away, "I'm her. I'm her. I'm your daughter. I am."
"Fucking...Comstock is here?" That made Booker's head hurt and he sagged against the wall. Why was he getting that fucker's dreams in addition to his own? He didn't want them. He didn't want to dream about that racist son of a bitch. "Anna....? God..." Only three people had ever made a damn difference in his life and he'd thought he's lost all three, but here was one of them and it made sense and he could see her mother in her face and something inside him threatened to break. Why hadn't he seen it before? Why didn't he see it in the dreams? But the pinkie, oh god the pinkie.
Wow, this was all kinds of messed up. But Serah felt compelled to say something. "Not everybody gets second chances. They're something special, something that should be taken. You're both filled with hurt, but you need to sit down and talk. Family is something you have to work for."
And with that, she slipped out the door.
Serah's words were heartfelt, and they threw Elizabeth off for a few seconds. It wasn't long, though, before she shook it off and rushed over to Booker, "He isn't here. Not anymore. He died a couple of years ago. That's how I... know. He told me. It was the last thing he ever said."
A stopped clock was right twice a day, Booker figured. He wiped his nose with the back of his hand. "How'd you find me?" No apologies for how he'd acted, he figured it wouldn't matter. He was who he was, broken and bitter. But one of the reasons for that was standing in front of him and he just...didn't know what to do about it.
And dream him had sold her to pay for gambling debts. The fuck could he tell her?
"I snooped around in his things. I'm very good at getting my hands on information when I want to, and I can pick almost any lock. I can even crack dial safes with a little practice." Elizabeth replied. She reached her hand up and delicately wiped at his nose, "And I got some information from my... from the Lady. Before she decided never to speak to me again."
“Yeah, that sounds like you in the dreams.” Booker rubbed his fingers over the scar on his hand. Elizabeth probably could see it anyway and it didn’t matter. “What did she tell you?”
"A maid stole you away from me. She wanted the money that selling me would bring her, and... It's my understanding that she thought that you weren't a good father." Elizabeth pulled away a bit and hugged one of her arms, then looked down at the floor, "I admit... You weren't what I was expecting. I had this whole… daydream about who you were. That the maid couldn’t possibly be right."
"I kept you fed an' in clothin'," Booker said, resting one hand on her shoulder. "I was grievin' your mother but even then I was tryin' to do best by you. I didn't drink back then, or anythin' like that. I was tryin' to turn my life around. I always figured I just weren't meant for that kinda thing." What decent god kills someone as sweet as Annabelle and then takes away her baby? “It’s why I hired her. Because I needed the help. Ain’t no reason not to ask for help when you need it…”
"Then it sounds like you tried your hardest, and whatever she might have thought of you was a little too harsh," Elizabeth decided, with a nod. He didn't sound that bad, after all. Sure, he had his faults - Serah had even admitted that. And she was still angry that he didn't want to live anymore, but he wasn't all bad. She was absolutely relieved.
"...There's definitely no shame in asking for help if you need it. Which is why... I think, you should accept the help we're all trying to give you now. You don't really want to eat your gun, do you?"
Well. One of the reasons he’d stopped caring about his own life was standing in front of him. Booker scratched at the mark again. “Time was, it sounded like a damn good idea. Weren’t no one that mattered or no one that cared. Then it seemed better, but then these...fuckin’ dreams…”
"I think there are more people in your life that care, than you think. This girl, and the one on the internet, the older one. Neena, I'm guessing?" Elizabeth shook her head at him and reached her hand down to his, grabbing it so that he couldn't keep picking at the mark there.
"... I don't have bad dreams. I mean, they're strange, but they aren't awful."
“They’ll get awful,” Booker said, darkly. He shook his head. “I don’t know what it means. Heard of people sharin’ them. Never thought anyone would. She’s my...you’re my...fuckin…” He needed to sit down. “I’m a bad man there, Elizabeth. An’ I don’t think I’ll end up doin’ right.”
"It doesn't matter what you are, there. You're who you are here, and that's the important thing." Elizabeth wasn't going to let any strange dreams change her, "You can't let the dreams tell you who you are or who you're going to be. And you're not accountable for the man you are there."
“Feel like I am. Like I gotta be better than that.” He rubbed at his face. “Fuck, even he thought he needed to be better than that, but he’ll fuck it up. Always happens that way.” But maybe the point was trying.
He looked at her, so forlorn, and his voice broke. “And I don’t know how to begin to make it up for not looking for you hard enough.”
"They hid me all the time. You never would have found me, because... because they were paranoid about exactly that. Do you understand? I only ever knew tutors and maids and butlers and nurses... I never got to see the world outside of that place. Unless you'd searched for me on a mansion in the New York countryside, I don't think..." Elizabeth sighed, and shook her head.
"Just don't try so hard to kill yourself, that's a great way to make it up to me."
Booker managed a smile. “Okay. Guess I’ll try to keep myself goin’ a bit longer.” Pause. “Ain’t gonna stop smokin’ though, but it might be nice to get back on the wagon.”
"Well I'm not going to tell you to stop drinking entirely. I'm your... daughter... not your nagging housewife." Elizabeth joked, "But it would be nice to have you around for a little longer. So at least try not to drink so much that you end up getting into an accident or something."
Booker probably needed a nag in his life. He gave Elizabeth a tired smile. “Guess I should get you lunch today. We kinda got off on the wrong foot.”
"Going out to lunch sounds nice. We can do that after we both get a nap in." Elizabeth nodded, and pointed towards his couch, "Can I sleep there?"
“Yeah, sure. Just return anything you took by morning.” He leveled Elizabeth with a knowing look, then turned to shuffle back to the bed room.
She gave him the most sincere nod and smile, before kicking her shoes off and curling up on his couch.
Nothing else went missing that night. But the lighter never was returned, especially not in the morning.