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Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Fanfiction · #1972224
An alternate ending to BioShock Infinite. Much of the dialogue is the same.
"Stand back. I'm ending this."

"Booker, no. This is between me and him."

Booker's expression when he looked at Elizabeth was full of pain. It was most unusual for him. "You are walking into a trap!"

"I need to do this." Elizabeth's time away from Booker had changed her. Gone was the girl with tears in her eyes who had sacrificed herself to Songbird for him. Elizabeth had an edge to her that he didn't recognize. He couldn't imagine her crying now. But perhaps she was only like this with Comstock.

Booker realized that Elizabeth was right about one thing. He had to die.

Comstock stood there, waiting for her. A baptismal font stood in front of him. The room itself had a certain beauty to it. Grass grew, and a waterfall flowed in the background. It didn't fit with the businesslike atmosphere that permeated the rest of the ship.

He looked so innocent. His long, white beard added a certain sense of nobility to his appearance; it was evocative of Moses, or even certain depictions of God Himself. But when Booker looked at him he realized he had never felt more hatred for anybody else in his entire, twisted life.

"Come here child," said Comstock kindly. "Well come on! I don't bite!" He looked at Elizabeth with an expression that, if you didn't know any better, you could almost describe as loving. "My oh my, how you have grown."

Elizabeth stayed resolute in her purpose. "Tell me. What am I?"

Comstock grabbed Elizabeth gently. He took out a sponge and started cleaning her wounds. Booker stepped forward. "Hey! Let go of her!"

Comstock ignored him. "Elizabeth, everything I've done I've done to keep you safe."

Booker could tell that Elizabeth was starting to be taken in. She was too calm.

"Safe from what?" Elizabeth asked.

"'The seed of the Prophet shall sit on the throne and drown in flame the mountains of man'. But the archangel told me something else: 'Beware the false shepherd, Booker DeWitt, for he shall be as a wall between her and destiny'.

Booker tightened his grip on his Founder Triple R Machine Gun. This was starting to feel dangerous.

Elizabeth was spellbound. "Why?"

For the first time, Comstock addressed Booker directly.

"DeWitt, I'm a fool. I sent mighty armies to stop you! I rained fire on you from above! But all I had to do to keep her from you was tell her the truth". He turned to Elizabeth. "Ask him child. Ask him what happened to your finger! Ask DeWitt!" He grabbed Elizabeth and started shaking her.

"Let go of me!" she cried.

A rage such as he had never known filled Booker DeWitt. He lost control.

"She's your daughter you son of a bitch! And you abandoned her!" He grabbed Comstock by the neck and slammed his head down on the baptismal font, over and over again. "Was it worth it? Huh? Tell me! TELL ME!"

"Booker!" Elizabeth yelled. But it was too late. "It…is…finished", muttered Comstock. His last words.

Booker grabbed his head and shoved it under the water in the baptismal font. Comstock stopped struggling. He was dead.

Elizabeth stared at Comstock's body. "You killed him". Her expression was unreadable. Then she looked at Booker. That same hard edge was there that she got when she talked about Comstock. It scared Booker. Not because of her powers or what she could to him, but because he was afraid of losing her. "What did he mean? Huh? What did he mean about my finger?"

"I…don't know…I just assumed you were born with it. I don't know!"

Elizabeth touched his hand. "Your nose. It's bleeding".

Booker's head swam as new memories settled into place in his head, dislodging old ones and fighting to manifest. He saw flashes. A baby lying in a crib; a chase through the streets of New York; a baptism at a field beyond Wounded Knee; and over and over again, the voice of Robert Lutece: "Bring us the girl, and wipe away the debt".

With great effort, Booker managed to shove them aside and focus on the situation at hand. "Elizabeth…I swear to you, I have no idea what he was talking about". But even as he spoke the words, he knew he was lying. The memories were there, even if he wouldn't acknowledge them. And Elizabeth knew.

She was about to respond when they heard a ripping noise. Booker turned towards the sound and there, in front of them, was an image of Booker DeWitt. He was in black and white, like a movie. Booker was sitting in a room. He turned to look at a crib. "Anna…".

"What? What is this…" said the real-life Booker. Elizabeth looked at him, as amazed as he was. "It's a tear to a different time…a vision of your past…"

Back in the tear a man was standing in the doorway. It was Robert Lutece. "Well? You know the deal. Bring us the girl, and wipe away the debt."

The Booker in the image looked at the crib. There were no tears. His expression was unreadable. Then he picked up baby Anna and handed her to Lutece. "So my debts are paid then?"

"You may rest assured, Mr. DeWitt, that nobody will bother you for money anymore." And Robert Lutece walked out of the room.

Memories came flooding back to the real-life Booker. "I sold…to Lutece…"
But the image wasn't finished. Image-Booker sat in his room. He took out a picture of his daughter and cradled it. Hot tears ran freely down his face – tears he would never show if he knew anybody was watching. Then, a change came into his eyes. They turned angry. Image Booker got up, grabbed his gun, and sprinted out of the room. He started yelling. "Anna! ANNA!"

Real-life Booker felt as if he'd been hit with a sledgehammer. "The gun…couldn't fire…could have hit her…." Elizabeth just stared in shock.

When Lutece saw image-Booker, he broke into a run. A tear opened up in a back alley wall. Comstock was standing behind. "Quickly!" he yelled as Robert Lutece handed him the child.

Image-Booker sprinted forward and tried to grab his daughter from him. "No! NO! GIVE ME BACK MY DAUGHTER, YOU BASTARD!"

He was too late. The tear closed over Comstock and baby Anna. Her pinky was severed, and remained in image-Booker's world.

Booker's head was starting to settle. A feeling of creeping horror rose up his spine as he looked at Elizabeth. "I…sold you…I…sold you."

"To your credit you did try to weasel out of the deal," said a British sounding female voice. Appearing behind Elizabeth was Robert Lutece and his sister, Rosalind. Apparently because of the technology they developed they had the ability, like Elizabeth, to use tears to jump through the multiverse.

Elizabeth stared at Booker, shock in her eyes, her emotions still confused and unclear. "My severed finger…that's why I can open tears. I'm present in two worlds…" But soon their attention was diverted. The tear had not closed. The scene changed.

This time a preacher shouted out to a group of men standing in the field. A baptismal font identical to the one in the room stood in front of him. Booker muttered, "I know that place…that's next to Wounded Knee. But…"

An alternate Booker stood in the crowd. The preacher addressed him directly. "Brother DeWitt , do you accept your Lord and Savior Jesus Christ?"

Image Booker answered the preacher, "I do".

Real world Booker sat there, confused. "This isn't right…I rejected the baptism…"

The preacher continued. "Do you choose to wipe away your sins?"

Image Booker said, "Yes".

"No…that's not right…my sins can't just be dissolved because I took a dunk underwater…"

The preacher poured water over Booker's head. "Then Brother DeWitt, I baptize you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost! What will be your chosen name?"

Image Booker thought for a moment. "Comstock…Zachary Hale Comstock".

And finally the tear closed. There was silence.

Booker broke the silence. "But I didn't…I wouldn't…"

"You were baptized," said Rosalind Lutece.

"But you weren't baptized," said Robert.

Elizabeth started speaking slowly. "That tear…the second one…that wasn't just the past, that was another universe…one where you took the baptism. You became Comstock."

Booker stared at her. "Elizabeth, I –."

Elizabeth cut him off harshly. "Don't tell me that you're not Comstock, Booker. Maybe you weren't baptized. But you sold me to him. You…you're Comstock in both universes. You didn't care about me. You came here because you felt guilty."

"Elizabeth…Elizabeth, that's not true!"

"Actually," Robert interjected, "It is true. Why do you think you ended up in Columbia? I hired you, of course. You had a debt to pay to Elizabeth, Booker DeWitt. 'Bring us the girl, and wipe away the debt'. This was the only way."

"No, it's not!" yelled Elizabeth, tears in her eyes. The hard edge was gone. She was a hurt young girl. "You can't just…erase what you did to me. You can't erase any of it, Booker. You were Comstock. And you sold me. I lost 19 years of my life in locked in a tower because of you. Rescuing me now does not wipe that away."

Booker felt as if he was spinning out of control, and not because of the new memories. "Elizabeth, I-"

Suddenly, there was a crash. The entire airship shook. A voice called out, "Take that, Comstock! Power to the Vox!"

"The Vox Populi!" Booker yelled. "This is Comstock's ship…they want to take it down. We need to get to the deck, so we can - ,"

Another blast shook the ship. The walls in the room started tearing off and flying into the sky. Booker and Elizabeth barely had time to scream. They just fell out the side of the airship and plummeted towards the Earth. The Luteces, of course, had disappeared entirely.

Booker twisted in the air, searching for a lifeline but painfully aware that somebody he cared about was falling next to him. "ELIZABETH!" he yelled.

Booker found his lifeline, a sky-line snaking its way around the city. Desperately he reached up with his sky-hook to grab onto it. The magnetic tool did not disappoint, and Booker found himself riding along the rail as if he was on a roller coaster.

Out of the corner in his eye Booker saw Elizabeth falling in the background. He stretched his hand out behind him to grab her – and amazingly, miraculously, she was able to hold on. Booker clutched her tight to him as he rode the rails forward.

"What are you doing?" shouted Elizabeth, to make herself heard over the wind. "To escape the Vox, we need to switch directions!"

"And if we want to leave Columbia, we stay on course!" yelled Booker.
As they slid faster and faster in the direction of the Vox Populi airships Booker yelled "Brace yourself!" And with Elizabeth's arms wrapped around him he leaped directly on top of a Vox soldier, knocking him off the ship. Elizabeth fell next to him, tumbling to a landing.

The next few minutes were a desperate bloodbath. Booker and Elizabeth had become attuned to each others' fighting styles during their time in Columbia, and together they took on the Vox Populi airships surrounding them. Booker turned to Elizabeth. "Elizabeth, haven't you been improving? Use your tears and get us the Hell out of here!"

Elizabeth's face was strained. "I'm trying, Booker! My control improved, but Comstock was stealing away my power so I couldn't escape. He built a siphon…When I try to create an escape, I can feel it draining me."

Booker was a skilled fighter, and despite the siphon Elizabeth's powers were formidable enough that they managed to hold the Vox at bay for a long time. But the Vox were too numerous. Despite their best efforts, they managed to board the ship. And Booker knew it was finally over.

He looked at Elizabeth for the last time. "Elizabeth…I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. About everything. Comstock…your imprisonment…"

Elizabeth sighed. I never got to go to Paris…that was always my dream…I never got to go…"

Suddenly, the look on Elizabeth's face changed. "Booker, that's it! My imprisonment! Songbird! We need Songbird."

Booker was resigned to their fate. "Elizabeth…he hasn't found us. And we can't control him." Booker was still shooting down enemies, protecting them for a time, but he knew it couldn't last. And he had no illusions that Elizabeth's captor would arrive as an ally.

Elizabeth pulled out a paper. "Yes, I can. The note you gave me. There's a cage written on it. But it's not a word, Booker. It's a song. It calls Songbird. It controls him!" She pulled out a small whistle from her bodice. "The Luteces gave it to me. They said it might come in handy". Elizabeth played four short notes on the whistle: C, A, G, E. Somehow, the notes managed to ring above the noise of battle and echo through the air. Whether it was because it was a cleverly constructed whistle or because of some trick of the Luteces Booker didn't know.

For a moment, Booker dared to get his hopes up. But nothing happened, and the Vox had sent down Handymen, Firemen, and mechanical Patriots to take them down. Booker loaded his gun and prepared to run directly into the battle for a last stand when suddenly he heard a high-pitched call.

The battle stopped as people looked up, wondering what had made the noise. The cry rang out again, louder this time. And then the giant mechanical songbird was looming above them. It looked at Elizabeth for instruction. Booker looked at her, and both of them instantly realized that there were simply too many airships to take down. So Elizabeth tried one last, desperate maneuver: "Take down the siphon!"

And the Songbird flew towards the tower that held the device siphoning Elizabeth's powers. With an almighty crash and a huge roar of noise the tower was destroyed. The concussion caused from the fall shook the entire airship, and Elizabeth lost her grip on the whistle. It tumbled into the abyss below.

The Vox soldiers stood there for a moment in wonder. But when they realized that the Songbird wasn't coming back, they gave a battle cry and kept advancing. But this time, Elizabeth uttered one word: "No".

A huge tear opened in the sky. It swallowed the Vox Populi ships and sent them into another world, far away from theirs. Booker stared at Elizabeth in amazement. "How…"

Elizabeth nearly fell on the floor, but Booker caught her. "My powers…are draining…I can't tear more, Booker. I'm too tired."

But the Songbird was not finished, and with an ear-piercing cry it came back for the kill. Its job was not to kill Elizabeth, only capture. For death, it had only marked DeWitt. With a shattering boom, the songbird pinned Booker to the deck with its talon. Elizabeth watched, a little bit sad but not intervening. Booker looked at her, and uncharacteristically there were tears in his eyes. He blinked them away fiercely.

"Elizabeth…Anna… I am NOT Comstock. Comstock ran away from his sins. It's our choices that make us, not fucking fate. There's only one way…one way for me to wipe away my sins…please forgive me, Anna. Let me die, but forgive me. Please – AHHHHH!"

The Songbird swept Booker off the deck of the airship, and Booker went tumbling into space. Elizabeth screamed above him, crying, trying to open a tear, collapsing as the Songbird grabbed her in its talon-

A hole opened in the sky under Booker DeWitt. Booker tumbled, falling, and landed hard on the ground, bruised but alive. He pushed himself up, and Elizabeth was next to him. He ran over to her, shook her, desperately trying to wake her up. "Anna? ANNA?"

And, miracle of miracles, her eyes fluttered open. "Booker…" she whispered. "Wh – where are we?" They looked up and saw the Eiffel Tower in the distance. "Why are we here?"

Booker struggled to remember. "We…took the airship. From Columbia. Escaped Comstock. But…we fell…you opened a tear…brought us here."

Elizabeth forced herself to her knees. "I forgive you, Booker."

Booker was confused. "For what? Trying to bring you to New York?"

Elizabeth struggled to remember. "Maybe…I felt like it was bigger…but that sounds right. I forgive you."

And Booker smiled.

They had made it.

The Lutece siblings watched from a distance.. "After all, traversing the multiverse does affect the mind," said Rosalind.

Robert nodded. "I should know. I've lived it. And the mind does tend to manufacture memories where none exist."

Rosalind looked at him. "Did we make the right decision you think, to tear them over here?"

Robert nodded. "I should think so. The debt is wiped. Let them enjoy it."

Rosalind smiled. "Brother, you took the words right out of my mouth."
© Copyright 2014 Lee Cooms (leecooms at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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