Sinclair filled with panic as he saw the screen fade to black. This couldn't be happening. It just couldn't be happening. Everything was going to hell and he knew it, if Delta was dead then this is it, he wouldn't make it to the lifeboat. He wouldn't see the sun again, he'd just rot down here in "Rapture." What an ironic name, this place was hell, or at least the closest thing to it that he'd see in this lifetime. He was just sitting alone now, looking at the screen, listening to the loudest silence he had ever known. It seems that, for once, he didn't have a plan. His plan was Delta, and without the Plan, there was no way out. He needed to do something, and fast, if he ever wanted to leave. Walking up to the front of the train, he stared down at the controls, every Family member in Rapture knew of his "involvement" with Delta, there was no where he could go, yet going after the Alpha was practically suicide. He couldn't, nothing good ever came from playing the White Knight, so he just looked down at the control panel, letting it remind him of how selfish he was.
After some time, thoughts of "him" started to make their way into his mind, thoughts of how the kid could have left him for dead at any moment, but didn't. Thoughts of when Delta had saved him, of how Delta did everything for the good of others, and he realized. Now was his time to do the same. Pulling some handles here, pushing some buttons there, and he was off to Persephone, even though he knew this would only end in blood and tears.
Stepping out of the train and into the cold of Persephone, he had no idea where to go, so he just ran. He ran around corner after corner in the cold halls of Rapture, looking for someone that was probably dead by now, looking for the first and last hope he had ever had of getting out of here. As he ran through the heart of Persephone, he passed the lifeboat. He was temped to just go in it and just leave, but he reminded himself that Delta needed him. He looked away, continuing his journey. Moving farther and farther away from the only thing that could have saved his life. It felt like he had been running for so long, until he finally reached that room, and sure enough, there was Delta, strapped to a table like one of the poor saps that they had tested the very first plasmids on. Sinclair could feel his heart drop to the pit of his stomach, this was bad, very bad. As he walked towards Delta's body, he could feel his heart pounding away, forming a beat that filled his head and pounded in his ears.
As he walked into the room, he heard the announcement, and as soon as he did, he wished that he hadn't. "Augustus Sinclair has been sighted within the facility, he will attempt to reach Subject Delta, all Family duties are hereby suspended until he is found," boomed the Voice. Cold and calculating and just a little bit desperate. He had to get out of here, he started to turn back the way he had come, but then he heard it. In the silence, such a silence he had never known, he could hear Delta's breaths, loud and mechanical, reminding Sinclair that hope wasn't lost, but it would be if that slow breathing stopped. He hated himself for doing so, but he turned right back around, walking back to the other… man's side. Firmly, he gripped the restraints that held Delta to the table, and pulled at them with all the might that he could muster, he pulled and pulled, god knows he tried. He couldn't do it, it would take something, or someone, much stronger to pull those off. He looked down at his bleeding fingers, than up to his pistol. There was another way to free him.
Pulling the pistol out of its holster, he pointed it at Delta's one large porthole, taking aim. "Hey kid, if you can hear me, hell even if you can't, I'm awfully sorry that it's come to this. But it's the only way to get you out of here, there's one of those Vita-Chambers out in the hall, you should revive there shortly." He closed his eyes and wrapped his finger around the trigger, preparing to fire. He could hear the splicers coming, the whispers turning to talking, he needed to do it, fast. His hands were shaking, he really didn't want to this, yet it was the only way. He couldn't stop shaking. He couldn't pull the trigger. He couldn't do anything. He lowered the gun and stood there next to Delta, and started to talk, which was all he was good at these days.
"I'm really sorry, kid. But I just can't do it. I can't. I'm not sure if I'll see you again, but in case I don't, please take care of yourself and lil' Eleanor. I'm sorry that, in the beginning, I never intended to bring you with me. Never intended to fulfill my end of the deal, I just wanted you to bring me to the lifeboat. I'm sorry that I was selfish, and I'm sorry it has to end like this, I really am." He hadn't realized it, but his hand had slid over Delta's, and his other hand was on the side of the other man's helmet. "I wish it could have ended differently for the both of us," he said, brushing his hand along the side of Delta's helmet. "Because… Because I-" he was cut off by the scream of a splicer.
There standing in the doorway, was a splicer, half of their face had been melted half off with plasmid use, and their one good eye looked at him with a gleaming satisfaction. The meat hook in their hand gleamed, and Sinclair wondered if the splicer had polished it, the only thing that could drive his gaze from those hooks, was Delta. He didn't want to see those hooks coated in his blood, he wanted the last thing he saw to be Delta, for some reason that he couldn't even comprehend. He waited, waited for the splicer to dig those shining hooks deep into his spine, to disembowel him, to do something. But to his surprise, the splicer didn't, it just stood there, staring at him with that one unsettling eye. He didn't want to think about what it was planning, so he focused on just concentrating on Delta, memorizing every detail on his suit and helmet.
After a few moments, the splicer started screaming again, and Sinclair flinched and focused harder on Delta, squeezing his hand harder. He just stood there, as the splicer jumped on him, knocking him to the floor and away from Delta. Before he could do anything, the splicer picked him up and threw him at the wall, his head striking the wall with enough force to make his vision blur. The creature picked him up, pushing Sinclair against the wall, but even then, Sinclair was looking past the monster, his gaze falling on Delta. He expected the splicer to kill him and be done with it, but instead, they kept slamming his head into the wall. Over and over again, until his vision faded and he was knocked unconscious, and he was just glad it was over.