My Child, a Bioshock Short Story
"Daddy? Daddy wake up!"
The cheery, high pitched voice pushed through the clouds of Gamma's sleep, as they always did. Tiny hands shook at his helmet, his sodden and heavy mesh rumbling as he groaned. Opening his blurry eyes, he saw only the filth encrusted glass of his visor, and realized that water had started to fall from the ceiling.
A small white hand began to dash the much from the glass, and two big yellow eyes peered down at him. Her messy blond hair was plastered to her face, streaked brown in areas with the dirt and filth of Rapture, a leaf stuck to her cheek with mud. And yet, little Tracey looked a picture of happiness, the icy cold water streaming down onto her not bothering her frail body in the least, her filthy and torn purple nightgown clinging to her.
"Time to get up Daddy. Theres Angels to be found!" Giggling, she bopped up and down excitedly on his chest, where she had slept curled in his arms, like every other night. She never did like to go into the hole. Every time he put her up into one, she just lay there, peering back out at him, until he groaned and took her back down again.
Reaching up, he used his knuckles to brush the mud and dirt from her cheek, his ruined throat rumbling in the closest imitation of a chiding sigh. Kids... always getting dirty. Pushing back against the wall, Gamma hauled his weight laboriously up onto his feet, heavy boots clanking on the metal, which was an inch under water. Tracey clung to his arm as he did so, her limbs long enough to just get around it, barely. She squeaked as he moved, but he picked her up with one hand and plopped her down on his shoulder, to which she gave an appreciative little mewl. "Thank you Daddy!"
The old diner he had taken refuge in had began to flood at some point after he had fallen asleep, sitting behind the counter with his back to the wall, large legs brought close so Tracey could rest between his knees and chest, arms around her. His Rivet Gun was stashed under the cash register, which he pulled out and placed on his back, but not without being careful about her space, letting her scamper out of the way first. Outside the shattered glass doors, the water didn't go far, streaming from the door and down through a broken section of tiling, to a level below.
He picked her up off of his shoulder and set her down in front of him, but he already suspected she would sulk. She hated to walk anywhere, even when Angels were close. She crossed her arms and pouted, turning away from her, but he waited, even though he knew it was futile. He always caved before she did, and with a sign of resignation, he reached down to pick her up in both hands. She kicked her little legs, feet flicking blood, the little shards of broken glass already starting to fall as her healing sealed the cuts.
"Oops! Got a booboo, heehee..." He draped her over his shoulder, on her stomach, and began to brush the glass and blood from her feet, growling when she wouldn't stay still. With her riding on his back, he set out, feet thumping on the broken and gritty tiles.
A Splicer was reaching into a broken store window on a balcony, grumbling about something, obviously looking for something that could have been missed by the years of scavenging. When he heard Gamma, he turned and gave him a glare, tilting his head.
"Now thats just stupid" He laughed, turning his back to him to return to his rummaging, chuckling the whole while. "Now I've seen everything, hahaha" Tracey peered around, eagerly looking for Angels, and Gamma did a quick glance around to make sure no one was looking. He tapped Tracey and pointed off into a direction, and as she was distracted, he covertly bent to pick up a chunk of concrete, underarming it so it soared up and smashed against the Splicers back. He yelped and flopped back over the railings, smacking against the tiles with a thud, dead.
Tracey was hopping up and down, whining at not being able to spot the Angel Gamma had pointed out, but when he picked her up and tucked her under his arm, she shrieked with glee as he pointed out the Splicer. "Yay! Theres one, theres one, theres one!"
Gamma should have felt bad for tricking her, but he couldn't suppress an adoring rumble as he watched her work. The joy it gave her, as he set her down on the body... he couldn't think of anything else he'd want in life then to see her happy. "I'm done Daddy!" She squealed, hopping up and down with her arms up, waiting to be picked up.
She was in a great mood for most of that day, or what passed as one down here. Typically, he would just take her around until she wanted to sleep, and he would find somewhere to stand watch over her, and maybe sleep a little himself. Today, however, she was far too excited, and had him ferrying her around until they had ran out of Angels in this district. She didn't like this, and threw a tantrum, squirming about in his hand as he carried her back towards the Diner. It was getting too late to travel somewhere else... she was just going to tire herself out. But then she started pointing out of the glass to The Gardens.
"Please Daddy, please? Can we go, can we? I promise I'll be good, really!" Growling, he lifted her in both hands to regard her, and she gave him an innocent little pout, placing both her hands on his visor. She knew he couldn't resist those eyes... groaning, he gave in and placed her on his shoulder, hefting the Rivet Gun off of her back and keeping it in his right hand. She cried out and hugged his helmet, squealing her thanks, then resumed to her excited bopping.
The only tunnel to take them there was cracked and twisted, and there was something about the whole place that made him uneasy, but he pushed on, not wanting to upset her. When he heard a tiny yawn come from his shoulder, he glared back up at her, but she made her best innocent act, looking at the ceiling and humming.
Gamma was getting nervous. There was no one here... why would the Splicers avoid this area? There weren't many bodies to find, either, so he ended up taking Tracey deeper then he'd like to. The entire time, he had the sense he was being followed, and he hefted his gun now and then, peering around for the source of his worries. Now and then the ground would shudder, a pane of glass rattling loudly. Tracey didn't seem scared though, so he didn't worry too much.
In the center of this area was a large park, the grass brown from lack of attention and muddy in areas, the walkways cracked, and a tall statue in the center of Andrew Ryan, which seemed as though it would fall any second. Creeping vines had overtaken it, and seemed to hold it together. Aside from where the entered, the rest was glass, giving what would have been a beautiful view once of Rapture. Once again, the floor shuddered, and Tracey peered around.
"Daddy... I don't think we're alone..."
Just as she whimpered this, a loud shriek pierced the air, and Tracey screamed and clutched at his neck, hiding her face in him. He roared and pulled her off of him, dropping her down between his legs and crouching protectively over her, raising his gun and sweeping it, searching for the source of the sound. It couldn't be what he thought it was... they had all gone crazy after The Family had been taken down. Could one have survived?
And then, he saw her, perched atop the statue, crouched from her landing, but slowly rising, glaring down at him. Gamma barked and pulled Tracey closer, snarling a warning to her. The Big Sister cocked her head, considering, and then it's round helmet descended to the girl. The almost bird like sound she emitted was part mocking and outrage, as if she had just seen some cruel, insulting joke.
Gamma wouldn't let her laugh at Tracey. He fired, the Rivet streaking past the Big Sister as she ducked, planting her hands down on Andrew's stone head, screeching and clenching her fist, which shook as fire began to burst from between her fingers. Gamma pulled Tracey up and clutched her to his chest, turning and getting down on one knee, the fire splashing harmlessly across his back. With the flames clinging to his armor, he shoved her away from him and turned just in time to catch the Big Sister, who landed crouched on his shoulders. Screeching at him, she kicked off, back flipping and sending him rolling across the broken path, his gun clattering across the tiles.
She sprinted at him, too fast for him to brace, trying to get on his feet in time but getting shoved back back, rolling. Clenching his fist, he pounded it down on the ground, breaking the tiles, roaring loudly, and clambering into an awkward stumble. She just shrieked her amusement, standing her ground and letting him come for her. His first swing went straight past her, weaving around the second, and getting both her long arms around his as he threw his third punch. Sticking her leg between his, she pushed, the unmistakable sensation of Telekinesis smashing into him, assisting her motion as she took him off balance and threw him.
He flipped end over end and crashed into the glass, crunching and coming down onto the grass with a grunt. The impact made the entire room shudder a second later, and the statue finally came down, ripping the vines from the glass, the cracks streaking along.
Tracey... he couldn't let her be taken. He had to protect her. Groaning, he reached on shaking hand out, and pulled himself along the ground. Everything inside of him hurt. He was frail and weak, fire streaking along his body as he dragged himself. Tracey was watching, horrified, from the bush he had placed her in, calling for him. And then, the Big Sister grabbed her and yanked her up, dangling from her fist by her dress. She squirmed and struggling, calling out for him, yelling for her Daddy to save her.
Roaring impotently up at her, he seethed, pushing onto his hand to try and climb up onto his feet. The Big Sister looked between the girl and him, and laughed, the sound both chilling and cruel. She waited for him, holding the girl up and letting Gamma crawl right to her feet...
And then, Tracey screamed as she was tossed down onto the pavement and that sleek, metal clad foot came down, silencing her. Gamma could only roar and flail, seething, reaching for her broken, silent body, but he was kicked into his back, that foot coming down on his throat, the sleek armored woman leaning over him and laughing, her long, filthy needle crackling with lightning. She reared it back, and the last thing he remember before the volts shut down his body, was the sound of his visor shattering, and his Tracey crying out for him.
When he awoke, he felt as though his entire body had been ripped to tiny pieces and then poorly put back together. Every inch of him ache, his head swelling, and his limbs refusing to obey him. He simply lay there, for what felt like an eternity, and slowly, he lifted his heavy arm, and reached out, as if to see if it was really his. Placing it next to him, he pushed, and rolled onto his stomach, crawling and pulling himself up onto his feet.
A low, sorrowful echo emanated from his shattered helmet, limping over to his Tracey's body. He let himself fall to his knees, and he picked her up in both hands, lifting her limp corpse.
Her body had been made of wood, a chair he had broken, and some of another he had found. The one with the padding had made her feel less rigid. Rope he had seared was her joints, making her arms and legs fall limply over his hands, the old sodden pillow that was her head ripped from the Sisters foot. Now the old dress he had placed on her was barely hanging on by a thread, the little shoe from her left foot laying on the ground, her shattered arm near his foot. Reaching down, he retrieved the arm and tried to place it back onto her. It wouldn't stay on... why wouldn't Tracey's arm stay on. He jammed the wood into her shoulder, getting frantic, moaning low in his helmet, her elbow snapping in his large hand. Why? Why wasn't Tracey getting better? She always got better!
Clutching the broken wooden doll to his chest, he wailed, the only sound he could make, his torn and shredded throat incapable of making a sob. His broken chest plating and torn mesh rumbled with the sound in his lungs, heavy back shaking and stooped as he held her... his little Tracey. Taken so long ago, torn from him. But she came back. One day, she was just back, and everything was okay again. And now... she was dead. His little Tracey was dead.
For the next hour, he simply dragged at the dirt, on his knees in the garden, pulling handfuls of soil back, his fingers black with the mud. When the hole was deep enough, he took her little wooden body and placed it gingerly in the bottom, putting her Adam needle on her chest and crossing her one arm over it, placing the other on top. He was silent and collected the entire time, even as he tossed the dirt back in, handful by handful, her body disappearing from view as the wet soil piled up. When the grave was finished, he removed his helmet and knelt down by her, placing it at the head of her grave. She always loved to ride on his helmet... it was only fitting she keep it.
Pushing up to his feet, he barely noticed the jets of water streaming through the cracks, or the brittle sound of them spiderwebbing further across the panes. He didn't notice the groaning of the metal, as the structure shook from the strain, the support beams giving way inch by slow inch from the massive weight. He made no move to save himself, simply sat by his Tracey's side, as the garden district came down around them.
This is what she would have wanted. He swore to her he'd never let her go again... he closed his eyes, and let the wall of water take him, as the glass finally shattered.