I don't own anything to do with Bioshock. The only thing I own at the moment is Charlie.
Booker's jaw tightened slightly as the rain repeatedly pelted his person. He registered the faint sounds of thunder as he breathed in the fresh rain smell. He tapped the side of the boat, barely paying attention to the back and forth going on in front of him. The wind was harsh, making the storm almost unbearable to withstand.
"They've forecast storms for tonight, Charlie."
"Psh, you know how they like to exaggerate. Bet you any money it's a light drizzle."
Almost, Booker thought as he glanced over at his partner, Charlie, who sat shivering with her arms crossed, staring up at the sky. He had no doubt she was trying to glare at God right now. He'd seen her do it before, when she thought God had screwed her over.
"So you owe me what," Booker yelled, drawing the red head's attention to him, "A twenty?"
She scoffed, turning to face the sea. He could faintly make out her lips moving, probably mocking him.
"Excuse me, how long until we get there?" Charlie asked in her perfected deep voice, which always made Booker's mouth twitch slightly in amusement.
When Charles Fletcher had entered his office two years ago, in a charcoal grey suit with matching fedora, Booker had been in the middle of a robbery case. Charles had just sat on the chair opposite his desk, removed his blazer, stared at the papers there for at least ten minutes then told him who had done it and where they could find the missing object. When Booker asked how he worked it out, Charles had just shrugged and said with an English accent "It just makes sense. I don't suppose you're hiring?".
And, after working out how much money he could save by hiring this kid, he was quick to offer him a job as an assistant
However, after a few cases together, on a particularly windy day, Charles' ever present fedora had blown away and Booker had learnt quickly that Charles Fletcher was actually Charlotte Fletcher. He had, surprising not only Charlotte but also himself slightly, not fired her. "A talent like that shouldn't go to waste," he had said, handing her back her hat. Charlie had smiled gratefully, fixing her hair and firmly placing the hat back on. She had become not only a partner but also a friend to the usually anti-social detective.
An insistent nudge broke him out of his reverie. He looked forwards to find the woman in front of him holding out a box with his name on a golden plaque on top. Booker recognized it instantly. It was his from when he was in the 7th Cavalry, at the battle of Wounded Knee. He quickly opened the box to find various objects which he assumed he would need for this job. Worryingly, one of them was a pistol. He quickly put that into his pocket. The last thing he needed was Charlie freaking out. He picked up a picture of a young girl, probably around Charlie's age, with dark hair. He flipped the picture.
Bring to New York. Unharmed.
He flipped the picture back around, looking at the girl again. So, you're Elizabeth? He stared at the picture, confused. What did you do?
Charlie peered over his shoulder. "Wow, she's pretty." She commented in her regular voice, which was considerably lighter. "I think." Charlie tilted her head, grabbing her hat and pushing it down. "The picture's at a kinda weird angle."
Booker sent her a warning look. "Deep voice until we're sure we're alone," He instructed. Charlie scoffed again, before rolling her eyes.
"Here, you can have the picture if you think she's so pretty." Booker decided, handing her a key and a piece of paper with strange symbols on as well as the picture. Shrugging, she pocketed the items. Booker removed a postcard with what seemed to be co-ordinates on them, and some spare change at the bottom of the box.
Booker looked up as the boat docked at the lighthouse. "Children first," He joked, gesturing to the ladder. Charlie, quite maturely, stuck her tongue out at him, before clambering out the boat and up the ladder. Booker followed her. As soon as his foot hit the dock, the boat began to row away.
"Hey, is someone supposed to be meeting us?" He called after the quickly departing duo.
"I would certainly hope so!" The woman called back. They barely registered that the man had said something, but by then they were too far away to hear what was actually being said. Booker looked at Charlie, who was frowning to herself. Sensing she was being watched, Charlie turned to look at Booker. She raised an eyebrow at him.
"Something wrong?" She asked finally, aware of the rain dripping down both of them. Booker opened his mouth, before closing it again.
"Because, you know," Charlie continued, "If there is a reason that we're not in that warm lighthouse," She gestured with one arm towards the specified building, "I assume it must be detrimental, no?"
Booker offered a short laugh, before sighing. "There's still time for you to go back, if you're not sure about this."
Charlie hesitated, biting her lip. She gave him a reluctant smile. "How would I get back? It's not like I can fly." She shrugged, before starting towards the lighthouse. Booker sighed, before following her. They ran silently towards the door, skidding slightly to a stop outside.
Dewitt-
Bring us the girl and wipe away the debt.
THIS IS YOUR LAST CHANCE.
"Booker-"
"I know,"
"There's blood on-"
"I know," Booker interrupted grimly, before knocking on the large wooden door. "Excuse me?" He called as he gently pushed the door open. "It's Booker DeWitt, and Charlie Fletcher? I guess you're expecting us?"
Charlie pushed past him, desperate to get out of the rain. She began to shake herself rapidly, like a dog. She adjusted the bandages over her chest and turned to Booker when he got no reply. "Maybe he popped out for a fag?" She offered, walking towards a basin on a table.
"Of Thy Sins Shall I Wash Thee," She read aloud, laughing slightly. "Hey Booker," She turned to the man at the bottom of the staircase, "This bowl of water says it'll wash away your sins. Free of charge."
Booker scoffed. "Good luck with that, pal." He muttered before walking up the stairs, Charlie close behind him. They climbed the first set of stairs in silence, both glancing at the verse on the wall as they passed by.
When they reached the top step, Booker looked around. The first thing that caught his eye was a large map on the wall. Upon closer inspection, he found a note to the side of it.
He's on his way.
You must stop him.
-C
Do they mean me? Booker thought as his eyes roamed the map. From what the brunette man could gather, it was showing the route of something called 'Columbia'. And what the hell's a Columbia?
Meanwhile, Charlie had noticed a telephone on the desk Booker was currently leaning on. Curious, she lifted the phone from the desk, removing the ear piece. She placed it against her ear. Silence.
"Well, that's daunting," She murmured, quickly putting the telephone back on the desk.
"What's daunting?"
Charlie jumped slightly, momentarily forgetting Booker was there. "There's no sound," She answered, gesturing towards the telephone. Booker raised an eyebrow.
"There is a storm right now, Charlie." Booker reasoned, walking towards the second staircase.
Charlie took a deep breath, before nodding.
"Yeah," She breathed out, catching up with Booker. "A storm. Of course that's why."
They both began climbing the stairs. A metallic smell caught Booker off guard, causing him to stop. He sniffed again, deeply inhaling the scent. Booker's eyes widened as the smell registered.
Blood.
Without warning, Booker took off upstairs, paying no attention to Charlie's inquisitive "Booker?".
He stopped at the top step, before warily walking forwards.
There was a dead body, covered in blood, tied to a chair. There was a sack over the victim's head, which was also soaked in blood, indicating he had been dealt some massive head trauma. There was a sign hanging over the man's chest, saying DON'T DISSAPOINT US.
"...Shit," Booker sighed, going closer to the corpse. He gathered the coins from a side table and put them in his pocket. Footsteps fell close by and he turned to see Charlie walking closer to the body. "Careful not to slip on the blood there," He advised, already walking towards the third and final set of stairs. He was just about to put his foot on the first step when-
"Is it our fault?" A quiet voice asked. Booker turned to find Charlie still stood in front of the man, eyes focused on the sign, taking deep breaths.
"What?"
"Is it our fault that this man's..." The red head trailed off, sad green eyes meeting his. Booker breathed out, before walking back towards the girl. He hesitantly placed his hands on her shoulders.
"No," Booker answered, trying hard to keep eye contact with the young girl. "This man, he... he would have died no matter what."
Charlie nodded, biting her lip. "If we hadn't taken this job, somebody else would have, right?" She reasoned, fiddling with her rope bracelet. Booker sighed in relief. That was close.
"Exactly. It would have happened no matter who was hired." He reassured, removing his hands from her shoulders. He nodded towards the stairs. "It seems like the only way is up,"
"Well then, let's go up." Charlie smiled slightly, before heading to the stairs. They climbed up the stairs and onto the roof in silence. They stood in the rain for a few moments, before Charlie turned to Booker, confused.
"What now?!" She yelled over the storm which was already soaking through her clothes. Booker did a full 360, but the only thing that came to his attention was a door. He looked closely at the strange locking mechanism, before turning back to her.
"You still got that card?" When she nodded, he held out his hand. "Gimme it a sec,"
Confused, Charlie pulled the card out of her pocket and handed it to the older man. Booker stepped backwards slightly, studying the card. Apparently satisfied, he stood closer to the door again.
He rung the first bell, which had the image of a scroll engraved into it. Then he rang the two other bells, the key and the sword, twice. With each ring the circles above the bell lit up. After he completed the sequence he took a step back. Nothing happened.
"Well, that was anti-climactic," Charlie commented, leaning against the wet railing with her arms crossed.
Booker hummed in agreement, frowning. He thought for sure that was going to work.
Suddenly a giant fog horn blew from out of nowhere, and the sky turned a deep red. Charlie turned to Booker, eyes wide.
"Booker, I think-" Another foghorn sounded, making her wince. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure we just released Satan."
Booker chuckled, before looking up as the sky once again turned red. Another three foghorns blew, but nothing changed. Finally, with the fourth one, the inside of the glass room lit up a few times, before the foghorn red sky combo started again.
"This is getting real old, real fast!" Charlie shouted at the sky, just as an alarm bell inside the room began ringing. The bells on the outside lowered to the ground and the door opened, revealing a red chair. They both hurried inside.
"All right. Looks like they expect me to sit in their fancy chair." Booker mused, already heading towards the seat.
"Hey, what about me?" Charlie frowned. There appeared to be only one chair.
Booker shrugged. "You could sit on my lap?" He offered, sitting down. Charlie looked at him, outraged.
"Don't take this personally Mr DeWitt, but I'd rather-" She was cut off when restraints snapped themselves around Booker's arms. "Uhh..."
"What the hell?" Booker grunted, thrashing wildly to get out. Charlie gulped, before quickly jumping onto Booker's lap.
"This seat taken?" She joked weakly. Booker looked up at her, the automated voice too quiet to hear over the grinding of walls rising from the ground.
"Charlie, you gotta keep calm, okay?" He pleaded, watching the panic register in her eyes.
"Booker, what's happening?"
"I don't know, just keep calm an-"
Charlie shrieked and wrapped her arms around his neck as the floor gave away. The pistol became loose in Booker's pocket and fell.
"No, no. Goddamit!" He yelled as it fell into what appeared to be exhausts. The floor turned back up, making Booker face out the window.
"Ascension. Ascension in the count of FIVE-"
"No no no no no," He turned his head to face his partner. "Charlie, hold on."
Charlie responded by tightening her arms around his neck, but not enough to choke him. She hid her face in his neck.
The pod began to shake rapidly, whilst counting down. When it got to zero, the pod took off, repeating the word 'Ascension'.
"Stay calm," Booker gritted more too himself than to Charlie. The automated voice began to count off how far up they were. With every five thousand feet, the young girl in his lap whimpered slightly.
When they got to fifteen thousand feet, a bright light shone through the window, making Booker wince. He could faintly make out...an angel? Shit, we're dead. He thought, blinking. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, waiting for the inevitable. Any minute now.
...
Hallelujah.
A/N Hey everyone! This is my first Bioshock fanfic (that I've published anyway), so please R/R with your thoughts and opinions. Fair warning, I don't have a beta. I just read through and check it until I can't stand the sight of it anymore.
Also, Partners In Debt is just a working title. Please send me title ideas!
Thanks for Reading!