"I don't care what the doctor says, I don't want you taking plasmids while you're pregnant. For all you know when he is born the baby might be able to use telekinesis you're so hooked on the stuff."

"You're worrying to much honey, right now the baby is safe, when he's born then we will have to worry about him." She glanced around their apartment. "I still wish that you would agree with me and leave Rapture to raise the baby. This city is no place for a growing child."

"Now you're worrying to much!" he chuckled.

"Vincent," She looked up from where she sat, reading her book. "I've just thought about it, what will we do about a crib? They aren't exactly popular items in Rapture."
"We'll just have to make one then," She still looked worried, "Ruth, something that small is nothing to worry about." He paused. "I know! We'll make the crib out of a fish tank, so we can see the baby at all times!"

Ruth smiled.

XXX

"But-"

"Honey, please, go out and enjoy yourself."

"The baby could come anytime now, I can't leave you alone. At least come with me."

"I'm too far into the pregnancy to go to a party but the baby's not due for another week. You're fine to go out to a New Years party for a couple of hours. Besides, if anything happens I have a phone."

Vincent sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "Fine, but I'll only be out a few hours."

"Have fun!"

The press of people had Vincent even more nervous then earlier. He was about to call it a night when someone pressed a glass of champagne into his hands. "Vincent, you're so pale I thought for sure you were wearing one of those masks." A booming laugh made a few people turn towards Vincent's large friend. Brain towered over Vincent wearing a blue suit and his usual grin.

"Happy New Year Brian, but I think I'll be heading home."

"Come on Vincent, it isn't even 1959 yet! You have to relax, have a few drinks. Maybe even try one of the new plasmids they're handing out."

Vincent had never been good with alcohol; the rest of the night came in fragments after that first drink.

A sign that read in bold letters 'Try out Electro Bolt 3!" Brian arguing with a man over the price of a homemade sports tonic. Screams, and a lot of fire. A pistol clutched in his hand. Running from the burning bar where the party had taken place. Thinking he could take on a Big Daddy. Finally limping home.

XXX

The little tongues of flame leapt from finger to finger. With a flick of Ruth's wrist she set a bundle of paper towels on fire. She winced as she injected herself with EVE again. Even though 7 months ago she had promised Vincent she wouldn't use plasmids until the baby was born, she was much to fascinated by Incinerate to give it up. Having control over a fire as it burned and consumed items was amazing to her. Plus, having a weapon like fire made her feel safe and kept her warm.

She was sure it wouldn't harm the baby. The only thing that would harm the baby was the dangerous people in this city. Even now she heard screams coming from outside the apartment. She shuddered, hoping Vincent was okay. As Ruth stood up to get another EVE hypo the baby shifted noticeably. She huffed a little and placed her left hand on her belly. Feeling a little nervous Ruth sort of wished Vincent hadn't left.

Under her hand Ruth felt her belly getting a little warm. Quickly, she lifted it up and stared at her hand, thinking that maybe her fingers were still on fire. Her belly continued warming up though, until it began to burn. Ruth's eyes went wide. One more woman's screaming was added to the uproar that night.

XXX

Vincent made it back to the apartment. Half alive, some unknown liquid dripping from his hair, and dried blood splattered up and down him, he stumbled through the door. A bottle of alcohol he didn't even know he had been carrying slipped from his fingers and shattered on the floor. All he wanted to do was to climb into bed and forget this night. Forget the horrors wandering just outside of the door he had locked behind him.

The room spun around him, distracting him, making him stumble and fall. He heard faint crying coming from the other room and tried to stand. A knife. In his head. He thought for sure it was there. It hurt just as bad. Groaning he let his head fall into his hands. The minute head met palm he felt and electric zap run through him. Looking through his drunken haze he saw little lightning bolts dancing around his hands and up and down his arms.

Vincent shook his head, wishing he could wipe away the confusing pain. He thought for sure he had run out of EVE hours ago. He lay on the floor for a long time before managing to crawl into the next room. He staggered to his feet, holding a standing position just long enough to take in the scene before he crashed to the floor again. "No!" His voice came out different, warped, like he had been using it far too much.

The whole side of his face was wet. He was lying in a puddle. An inch away from his face was his wife's. Twisted into a dying scream with listless eyes that bore into his. He closed his eyes, to drunk to move away but not drunk enough to not care. The crying came again. A faint, weak sound that roused Vincent from a dark circle of his mind that he was fading into.

He pushed himself up onto his knees, barely managing to keep himself from toppling over again. A few feet from his wife's burnt body, a tiny creature lay. A small human like creature that cried and flailed its tiny limbs. His miniscule hands had little fires dancing up and down his fingers. "Murderer," Vincent mumbled. "Murderer, murderer, murderer." Vincent repeated himself, over and over again until he was shouting. Shouting for his wife to come back, shouting accusations to a newborn baby. It only cried in response.

"Shut up! Shut the fucking hell up!" he yelled and cocked his gun.

XXX

A Big Daddy hid under a staircase leading to a few apartments. His Little Sister cried softly into his arm. He had been built to protect her but he had only fired off his weapon once in his lifetime. That night in only one hour he had run out of ammo. Now he was hiding as the sounds of the people retreated, waiting for a quiet moment to get his Little Sister to safety. When silence had finally come he emerged with her on his shoulder. A gun shot came from one of the rooms making her scream and he flinched.

XXX

Eleanor. It was the only thing on his mind. The only thing he could think about. The voices of splicers never reached his ears. He didn't want to listen. Sinclair got through. He was helping him find Eleanor. Sophia Lamb got through. She was the enemy. Tenenbaum got through. She was a friend. Why did this voice stand out to him though? A lonely splicer, looking no different from the rest of them except he looked, well, deliriously happy. Maybe the fact that he was talking to no one caught his attention, but most of them did that.

"We'll make the crib out of a fish tank, so we can see the baby at all times!" The splicer happily exclaimed to no one with his back turned to him. The sentence was simple but melancholic. This city was ruining people. This man once had a family, a life. Now he was just another member of Lamb's cult.