The shining lights of New York City's skyline were a wonder to behold. The lights reminded Eleanor of Rapture, back when she was a child and the city was still beautiful. Perhaps Ryan had based the design of his utopia on New York, the gleaming beacon of what had once been called the New World.

A pale glow was visible on the horizon for hours before the city had come into sight. Eleanor had stared at it, following the light as the towering structures grew ever closer. The Little Sisters were crowded around the windows, staring out at the city. Eleanor wondered if any of the girls
had once called this city home. Mother had been sending the Big Sisters to any country with an Atlantic coastline. New York wouldn't have been much of a stretch for any of her more mature sisters; it probably wouldn't have been too difficult to find an unattended child in the big city.

The thought of it sent shivers down Eleanor's spine. Despite her loathing of the place, Rapture had always been her home. She had been born there, and seen it in its heyday. What must it have been like for these girls, to have been ripped from their families and homes? To have been dragged beneath the sea to the nightmare of Rapture?

Her gloved hand absently rubbed her stomach, phantom pains tingling beneath her suit. Sometimes she could still feel the scalpel as it cut into her stomach, the cold hands of the doctor as he roughly moved her organs aside, the wriggling slug as it nestled into her stomach. All of these girls had experienced the same thing she had. She wondered if they could remember it as clearly as she did, or if the process Father had used to bring them back had torn those memories from them as well. She hoped it had.

By the time they made it into the bay, It was well past midnight—well behind schedule. Eleanor bit her lip. They needed to get to Tenenbaum's residence before the sun came up; it wouldn't do for them to be running around the streets of the city when most of its population was waking up. However, she didn't have any idea how long it would take them to get there. Moving on her own she could have done it quickly. Her teleportation plasmid would make sneaking around the city a breeze, and her enhanced physical abilities wouldn't hurt either. But with all the sisters with her, there was no telling how long moving through the city would take.

It was a strange feeling, having to be concerned about the rising sun. She had spent much of their trip staring in awe at the brilliant blue sky. The light of the sun had been almost unbearable those first few days, her sensitive eyes not used to its light. Once she got used to it though, she couldn't get enough of the sun. It was as if she was trying to make up for lost time.

Some of the sisters had reacted strangely to the sight of the sun, ducking behind her or hiding below deck. Eleanor had been confused by this. As far as she knew, all these girls had been taken from the surface. Perhaps the process that had turned them into Little Sisters had taken more of their memories than she had thought.

Tenenbaum's instructions had been detailed—the doctor clearly hadn't wanted to leave anything to chance. Getting through the docks without being seen was going to be tricky, but Eleanor couldn't take the chance of them being spotted. Ryan had been paranoid enough about outsiders entering Rapture that he had set up a system of torpedo launchers around the city. She wasn't sure what the Americans would have in place, but she wasn't eager to find out. She flipped a switch and the bathysphere went dark.

"Big Sister, I don't like the dark. Why did you turn the lights off?" one of the sisters asked, clinging to Eleanor's leg. The other girls crowded around her, all of them clearly uncomfortable in the sudden darkness.

"It's okay," Eleanor said in what she hoped was a soothing tone. "We just need to turn the lights off for a little while so we don't surprise anyone, okay?"

The sister nodded, though the concerned expression didn't leave her face.

The harbor was larger than Eleanor had been expecting. The light's of the city reflected off the water, giving her enhanced eyes plenty to see by. Compared to the darkness of Rapture, this was nothing. It was curious that the city of New York was lit so fully, even at night. Eleanor could understand that there were some people that must work at night, but the whole city seemed to be glowing with lights. In Rapture, the lack of natural light meant that lights had to be run at all times. Here on the surface though, they had the sun. Perhaps they had a different way of living on the surface.

Eleanor eased the bathysphere slowly through the harbor, careful to avoid the many anchored ships. In the night, they loomed out of the darkness like horrible apparitions. Many of the sisters cringed away from the hulking things, grabbing onto Eleanor or the others, but Eleanor kept her attention on the water. Tenenbaum's instructions had been clear: she was to follow the pier to the end, then dive to find the entrance to her storeroom.

It took some effort to find the alcove Tenenbaum's directions had mentioned, wedged as it was between the dilapidated dock and the rocky outcropping beyond. Without looking for it, it would have been hard to spot, even during the day. As it was, Eleanor passed it twice before her eyes finally caught the overhang that masked the mouth of the underwater cave.

She eased the bathysphere towards the entrance, sealing the door before initiating the diving sequence. Total darkness wrapped around them like a thick blanket, and several of the sisters whimpered in fear. Eleanor could identify. It had taken her a long time to get over her fear of the dark after she lost the eyes of Rapture's Little Sisters, eyes that cast a veil of light and beauty over even her nightmares. Losing that and coming back to reality was harsh, and the darkness had seemed to cling to her like tar.

The bathysphere came to a halt in front of the cave entrance. Even Eleanor's enhanced vision could make out little in the murky water. She flipped on the forward lights, and the darkness was replaced by a sickly green light. She cursed under her breath. Their dive had kicked up too much sediment for her to see clearly, and with the engines running it was unlikely to settle any time soon. She would have to trust her instincts.

The going was slow. The cave was narrower than Eleanor had hoped. Most likely, it had been intended for smaller craft, not something as bulky as Sinclair's lifeboat. Several times they scraped against the jagged walls of the cave, earning startled cries from the sisters as the screech of metal grinding against stone filled the cabin.

After what felt like hours, the cave widened and they emerged into a large chamber similar to the bathysphere docks in Rapture. Eleanor brought the lifeboat to the surface, letting out a breath as the tension eased out of her shoulders. Driving a large bathysphere full of children through a dark, cramped cave was not an experience she was eager to repeat.

The chamber itself was much larger than Eleanor had expected. The lights snapped on with an audible click, and she hissed and shielded her eyes from the sudden assault. One of the downsides to her exceptional night vision was that she didn't handle sudden changes in brightness very well. It was actually a little embarrassing.

The metal dock clanked and shuddered as the sisters ran off of the bathysphere, its rusted bolts groaning from disuse. Eleanor followed with slightly less exuberance. She didn't blame the girls for being eager to get off the bathysphere; a week cooped up in that thing was enough to drive anyone a little stir crazy.

Watching them, Eleanor couldn't help but chuckle at the antics of the sisters. They scampered around the cavern, exploring its nooks and crannies. It was nice to see that Rapture hadn't sucked all the youth out of them.

Turning her gaze from the sisters, Eleanor looked around the cave. It had clearly been designed with bathyspheres in mind, and from the looks of it someone had expanded on an already existing cave system. Struts supported sections of the cave that had clearly been excavated, climbing the walls in a lattice of wood and steel. High above, one of the massive lights flickered, the buzz of electricity clearly audible. Several dark passages led off of the main chamber, however, there was nothing to suggest they led to an exit. She would have to keep an eye on the sisters, though so far they had been steering well clear of the passages. Against the far wall, stacks of moldy crates towered over the rest of the cavern, rising nearly to the ceiling. On another wall was a row of lockers. A couple of them looked well maintained, but most looked like they hadn't been used in years, the latches caked over with rust.

Eleanor walked around the perimeter of the pool. Most of the other docks were in their upright positions, and looked like they would stay that way for a long while. She gave one an experimental shake and was rewarded with the sound of groaning metal and a shower of rust flakes. Two small cranes were on either side of the pool, and Eleanor watched as a Little Sister clambered up the rusty steps of one and took a seat in the cabin, playing with the controls. It was surprising to see the girls acting so carefree after having been so somber for most of the trip. Perhaps it was merely a distraction. Had she been the same after her 'recovery'? Somehow, she doubted it.

Eleanor had initially assumed Tenenbaum had found the cavern herself and adapted it to serve as her staging area for her efforts to rescue the Little Sisters, but the equipment and leftover supplies led her to a different conclusion.

During Rapture's heyday, smuggling items down from the surface had been a wildly lucrative enterprise. There was almost nothing you couldn't get if you knew who to talk to and were willing to pay a little extra. That hadn't changed during the violence that erupted soon after the commercial marketing of plasmids began. As the conflict escalated and violence became the norm, smugglers had changed their stock of goods; instead of liquor and cigarettes, they began to sneak guns and ammunition into the powder keg Rapture had become.

Eleanor had studied the fall of Rapture extensively, though a large part of what she learned had been from her mother's lectures. Those tended to devolve rather quickly into tirades against Andrew Ryan and his 'cult of the self' as Mother had liked to call it. The audio diaries she had been able to sneak out of Mother's office had been far more interesting. It seemed that despite Ryan's best efforts to make the city self sufficient, there were certain things people could only get from the surface, and he had been unable to crack down on the smuggling business while maintaining his support for free enterprise. Not that he hadn't tried to find other ways to interfere with their business.

How Tenenbaum had managed to find this place though, Eleanor hadn't a clue. There was a good chance she had known about it as far back as the beginning of the smuggling trade. Once she had managed to get into Fontaine Futuristics and had access to the resources and information networks that the company had at its disposal, there was almost nothing she couldn't have sniffed out if she extended a little effort. The doctor was also remarkably resourceful, something she had proven to Eleanor during their resurrection of Delta. Eleanor dismissed the train of thought as unimportant, walking over to the undamaged lockers. There would be time to muse on that later. For now, she needed to focus on getting them moving.

Much to her disappointment, the only things of any use she found in the lockers were a few of Rapture's first-aid kits, an EVE hypo that she was quite surprised to find, and several stacks of Rapture dollars of varying denominations.

Well, I suppose if you decide to go back to the closest thing to hell you're ever likely to see, it doesn't hurt to be prepared,Eleanor thought as she stuffed all the items into a bag she had retrieved from the lifeboat. Already inside it was the helmet and weapons of her Big Sister suit. She had been tempted to leave them behind, but somehow that had seemed like a bad decision. She couldn't imagine she would be needing them here on the surface, but she felt better having them with her.

Aside from what she had found in the lockers, Eleanor was a bit surprised at the lack of supplies. Tenenbaum must have cleaned the place out on her way down to Rapture. After one last check to make sure she had everything and the bathysphere was secure, she gathered the sisters and led them down the only lit passageway. They were almost there. She couldn't wait to finally have a chance to relax.

They were lost. It had taken Eleanor longer to accept that reality than it should have, but she was reluctant to admit that after everything they had done to get this far, she had been bested by shoddy street signs and poorly copied directions. There was a certain amount of sick humor to be derived from the situation.

I always thought if I was going to be beaten by a city, it would be Rapture, she thought, squinting at a faded street sign in an attempt to will the name to change to the one she desired. The sign began to quiver, but the words did not change. Eleanor let out an agonized sigh, and the sign stopped shaking. This was becoming pathetic.

"Are we lost?"

Eleanor glanced down at the Little Sister whose hand she had been holding. The girl's large, brown eyes squinted up at her, seeming to both accuse and question her at the same time. The girl's brown hair hung in filthy threads around her face and down her shoulders. Eleanor remembered her; she had been one of the sisters she had used to help resurrect Father. Erica, she believed her name was.

"No, don't worry," Eleanor said, forcing a smile. "We might have taken a wrong turn, but we'll be there soon. I promise."

"Are you sure?" another sister piped up from behind Erica. "Didn't we already go through this way?"

Eleanor opened her mouth to retort, but now that she looked around she could see that the girl was right. The position of the dumpsters and piles of garbage was exactly the same as an alley they had passed through half an hour ago. The smell was familiar too, though she was beginning to think the whole city smelled like sewage and rotting food. She rubbed her temples, trying to refocus her thoughts and clear some of the frustration from her mind.

From the harbor, she had managed to lead them through the mostly deserted streets and alleys of the city. Tenenbaum had left a notation indicating that the route she had devised was intended to avoid sections of the city that remained busy, even at night. Still, their trip had not been without its close calls. Several times they had needed to duck behind a dumpster or sprint into an alley to avoid being seen, and she had seen several vehicles unlike anything she had encountered in Rapture hurtling down the streets. The first one had taken her by surprise, and she had come inches from being run over. After that, she had kept a close eye out for the things.

Besides the stealth required for them to move around unnoticed, a task made many magnitudes more difficult by trailing a chain of barefoot little girls, the biggest problem had been the smell. It filled her nostrils and clung to her suit like a heavy fog. It had been nearly an hour after they left the cave before she had been able to breathe without retching, and she still felt sick to her stomach. Eleanor didn't like to think that she had let the smell distract her, but she had to admit it was a possibility. Not that it mattered. She shook her head, clearing it of superfluous thoughts. Now wasn't the time for that; she could berate herself for this once she had figured out a way out of the situation.

That was easier said than done though. As much as she wished there was a convenient solution to their problem, it didn't look like one was forthcoming. Following the directions had gotten them lost, and her aimless leadership since then had only made the situation worse. The dark sky indicated that it would still be some time before the sun came up, but at this rate there was no telling how long it would take them to find the place, if they even would at all. Eleanor could come up with only one solution to her problem, and she really didn't like it.

"Alright, everyone!" Eleanor said in the most cheerful voice she could muster, a huge smile plastered across her filthy face. "Big Sister is going to find someone that can tell us where to go. I'm sure that if I ask really nicely, someone will be happy to help us get to our new home, okay?"

A few of the sisters nodded, while others looked down at their bare feet, twisting their fingers together in apprehension. It wasn't the solution Eleanor would have liked, but they were out of options. Without more detailed instructions or even a map, there wasn't much else she could do. She just hoped she wouldn't end up regretting the decision.

Gesturing for the Little Sisters to stay put, Eleanor crept to the mouth of the alley and peered out into the street. Pale light from the street lamps spread a ghostly pale light across the faces of the buildings and the few parked vehicles in the street. In the distance, her ears could pick up the sounds of activity, of a city that bustled even in the dead of night. Here though, everything was eerily still. She waited for a few minutes, hoping to spot someone in the street, but to her frustration no one came. Her hands curled into fists and she bit her lip. They didn't have the time to be waiting around. She was going to need to be a little more proactive.

With a quick reassurance to the sisters that she would be right back, Eleanor looked up at the buildings on either side of them. They were tall, enough so that they would provide a good vantage point from which to scan the surrounding streets. Taking a moment to gauge the distance, her keen eyes scanning the edge of the roof for any sign of danger or activity, she took a deep breath before disappearing in a cloud of purple smoke. An instant later she was on the rooftop, the same purple cloud following in her wake, as well as an oddly pleasant tingling sensation. It took her a moment to shake off the sensation, and refocus on the task at hand.

From up here, she could see the streets on either side of the building. With any luck, she would be able to spot someone suitable and get back down before they got too far. She sighed, looking down at her Big Sister suit. It was comfortable, and did a good job of keeping her warm, but it was unusual enough that she suspected she was going to put anyone she encountered on edge right away. She would have to use the charm her mother had been so eager to utilize in her quest to turn her into Rapture's messiah.

To her satisfaction, she didn't have to wait long before she spotted a figure a few blocks away, slowly moving towards them. She narrowed her eyes, tracking his progress and studying his features. It was a man, dressed in well worn clothing and a black cap that hid his hair from view. As he drew closer Eleanor was able to make out his face, which was surprisingly youthful. He couldn't be much older than she was. Perhaps that would work to her advantage. With another flash, she was on another rooftop, just behind of the young man. One more and she was in the alley—landing directly on top of an unfortunately placed trash can.

The walk home from the printers was always quiet—not surprising at four in the morning—which was a big part of why it was Thomas's favorite part of the day. He ached; his clothes, hands, and face were covered with ink, and he hadn't eaten anything since noon. He had every reason to be miserable, but now, walking home in the cool night air with the sounds of the city behind him and the street open and empty, he was content.

Working for the papers was demanding, especially when your only skills were mechanical. He couldn't write to save his life, and he didn't have the mentality of a reporter. He didn't like bothering people if he could help it, and the way those vultures crowded around people, snapping photos and shouting questions, made him wonder how more of them didn't end up in the hospital. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, that line of work hadn't been in the cards for him. He was happy enough working with the printers, although he had to admit it would be nice if the damned things could go an hour without something breaking.

He took deep breath, tilting his head back as he walked and staring at the crescent moon. He winced as his neck cracked. Hours hunched over the hot machinery of the presses might have provided decent pay, but it was hell on the back. He'd have to stretch when he got home. If he went to sleep with his muscles tense, he'd regret it in the morning. The last time he had neglected to stretch, he'd barely been able to move the next morning. It had felt as though his back was trying to curl in on itself, twisting him into a ball. It had not been a pleasant day.

A crash sounded from a nearby alley and Thomas whirled in the direction of the noise, his heart pounding in his ears. His hand was in his pocket, grasping the handle of the pocket knife he had carried ever since he had been beaten and robbed six months previous. It wasn't an impressive weapon, the blade was no longer than three inches, but he was prepared to use it.

"Who's there?" He called, edging slightly closer to the alley. "Might as well come out, sure as hell aren't gonna sneak up on me now."

Footsteps sounded from the alley, and Thomas tightened his grip on the knife. It sounded like there was only one of them. That was good, he was confident he could take one, especially if he could surprise them with the knife. He'd have to be quick though, if they ran at him they might be able to tackle him before he could get the blade open.

Fear and apprehension were replaced by confusion when a girl who couldn't be any older than he was stepped out of the alley, covered in filth and wearing one of the strangest outfits he'd ever seen. Her dark hair was matted and filthy, and there were smudges of dirt on her face. As she approached, Thomas was able to make out her features. Even under all the grime it was clear that she was pretty, maybe even beautiful. Had the situation been less bizarre, he would have taken the chance to give her a more thorough looking over. As it was, he simply stood stock still, staring.

"I'm so sorry I startled you," she said with a smile, breaking Thomas out of his trance.

"Uh, that's alright," he said, feeling like a fool. "I was just heading home. Can't be too careful around here after dark." The words sounded pathetic to his ears, but he couldn't for the life of him think of anything else to say.

"Oh, of course," the girl nodded. Her accent was familiar, but he couldn't quite place it. "It can certainly be dangerous after dark, I don't blame you for your caution."

Thomas gave her a quizzical look. "Right. So, uh, what were you doing in that alley if you weren't planning to rob me? No offense, but this isn't the best place for a girl to be wandering around at night."

"Actually, I was hoping you might be able to help me," the girl said, holding out a slip of paper. "I'm trying to find this address, but I think I've gotten a little lost. I'm not really used to the city you see, so I'm having a hard time finding my way around."

"Sure..." Thomas hesitated a moment before taking the slip of paper from the girl. There was something off about what she was saying. The words didn't seem to match the situation. Why was she out in the middle of the night, dressed in such strange clothes, and looking like she hadn't seen a bath in months? His mind raced to come up with some reason not to trust the girl, but he came up blank. So far, she hadn't done anything other than be a little strange that would suggest she had an ulterior motive. Besides, she had a nice smile.

"Jeez, no wonder you had a hard time, " he said, studying the directions. "Whoever gave you these must have been messing with you. They go all over the neighborhood. One wrong turn and you'd never get back on track. Who'd you get these from?"

"A friend gave them to me. I'm sure she meant well, but she can be a little eccentric at times," the girl said with a giggle.

Thomas couldn't help but smile. The girl seemed to be a little on the naive side, not to mention a little eccentric herself. Still, she seemed nice enough. "Well, I know the address at least. It's not too far from my apartment, just a block or so down the street, so I can show you how to get there."

The girl's smile faltered and her eyes shifted away from him. Maybe she didn't trust him. If that was true, she might not be as naive as he had assumed. It was good to be wary of strangers, especially at night. But he didn't like the idea of her being out on her own, his previous wariness quickly being replaced by concern as his hormones kicked in.

"That's... very kind of you," the girl said, clearly put off by his offer, "but I really just need you to tell me how to get there. I'm sure I'll be fine."

"Hey, I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable or anything," Thomas said, raising his hands in a placating manner. "It's just, people see a girl walking out by herself in the middle of the night and they start to get ideas. This isn't the best of neighborhoods you know, and it can be dangerous. Besides, you've gone and tangled yourself up pretty well here. I walk this way every night, and it took me months before I stopped getting lost."

"I am not defenseless," the girl said, an edge to her voice that caught Thomas by surprise. In that moment, looking at her steely eyes, he believed her. But as soon as it had come, the look was gone, leaving Thomas to wonder if he had imagined it. She was silent for a moment, her gaze distant. Thomas could tell by looking at her that she was chewing on her cheeks, something he used to do when he was younger. It gave her an almost childlike appearance.

"I suppose you're right," she said at last. "I would be very grateful if you could help us get there. Give me just a moment please." She ran off down the street, darting into another alley.

"Yeah, sure..." Thomas said, following her at a more relaxed pace. Suddenly, what she had said caught up with him.

"Wait... what do you mean 'us'?'" He shouted, sprinting to catch up to her. He turned the corner into the alley and froze, his blood running cold. The girl was kneeling in front of a crowd of young girls, all of whom were barefoot and just as dirty as the older girl. None of them could have been older than ten. He took a step back, his voice failing him. This was far from what he had expected.

"W-what the hell is this?" He stammered. The hair on the back of his neck was standing on end, and the familiar sour taste of fear clung to the back of his throat. What he was scared of, he had no idea. But something about this whole situation was very wrong. "Who the hell are all these kids?"

The girl didn't seem all that bothered by his reaction. She rose, gently holding the hand of the little girl she had been talking to. There was something different about her now, something in the way she carried herself. It took Thomas a moment to figure out what it was: she was sizing him up, evaluating him as a threat. When she offered him a small smile, Thomas practically collapsed in relief.

"I'm sorry I keep startling you," she said gently. "I didn't really want to have to ask for help in the first place, but we didn't have any other options. I hope you can understand my caution though. As you said, the city is not always the safest place for a girl at night. That is even more true for my sisters than it is for me."

Thomas could only nod dumbly as his mind reeled. His instincts told him to leave, to get as far away as possible, but he ignored them. He wasn't going to let his fear get the best of him, and despite how unnerving the site was, he was nothing if not adaptable. The fact that he had come as far as he had was proof enough of that. He also wasn't stupid. They may all have looked a bit alike, but there was no way they were all sisters, at least not by blood; their ages were all too close to each other. He opened his mouth to voice his thoughts, then stopped himself.

Jesus, he thought, burying his face in the elbow of his jacket, what the hell am I doing?

There were plenty of things to be afraid of on the darkened streets of New York, especially when you ventured off the main drags. But a dirty teenage girl and a pack of grimy children was not one of them. What the hell was he so afraid of? What, was he going to run away and let them all wander around the city? It was a miracle they were all still in one piece as it was. Unbidden, images of a childhood spent hiding in dumpsters and living off scraps rose from the dark places he had hoped he had banished them to. He took a deep breath, willing the images away. The days he had spent on the streets had been a nightmare. He wasn't about to let that happen to these kids just because he was a little freaked out.

"All right... okay. Shit." Thomas took a moment to gather himself. He took a shaky breath and let it out, turning back to the impromptu kindergarten in the filthy alley. He noticed the girl watching him, a calculating look on her face. She must have been watching him while he had his little episode. It wasn't a terribly comforting thought, and more than a little embarrassing.

"So!" He said after a moment, trying his best to sound cheerful. "Your big sister tells me you're lost. Well it just so happens I know this city like the back of my hand, and I can help you get home. Just leave every to me, and we'll be there in no time, how does that sound?"

The girls looked at him, some of them curious, others frightened, before turning to the older girl, who Thomas noticed had a very amused look on her face.

"Well, isn't that nice of him?" She said, gesturing for the girls to join hands. "I'm sure he'll be able to lead us to our new home in no time at all. Now, everyone stay close so we don't get lost." She turned back to Thomas, still wearing that same amused expression. "Lead the way."

Thomas nodded, still trying to get over his shock, and soon they were walking down the street, the train of little girls hugging the shadows as Thomas glanced back down at the slip of paper the girl had handed him. It was going to be a long walk.

By the time he finally got up the courage to speak again, they had nearly arrived at their destination. The sky was beginning to show hints of grey as the sun began its slow crawl over the horizon. Clouds rolled in to meet the coming dawn, and in the distance he heard a crack of thunder. Looked like it was going to be another grey day.

"So... uh," Thomas started, glancing at the strange girl out of the corner of his eye, "What's your name anyway?"

This seemed to pull the girl out of whatever thoughts she had been engaged in. She gave him a brief glance, her eyes guarded, but after a moment she relaxed.

"It's Eleanor," she said, giving him a small smile that seemed to remove much of the grime covering her face. Thomas felt heat in his cheeks and quickly turned away.

"Eleanor, huh? Just Eleanor?"

"For now."

Thomas didn't miss the playful tone in her voice and couldn't help but chuckle. "Well, I suppose it'll have to do then. It's a nice name. Can't say I've ever met an Eleanor before. I'm Thomas, by the way."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Thomas," Eleanor said. Despite the light tone of her voice, Thomas noticed that her eyes were constantly moving, scanning the alleys and shadows. For what, he had no idea. Not for the first time he wondered just what kind of trouble he was inviting by getting involved in this situation.

'Maybe I should have just left,' he thought, trying to stifle a yawn. 'I might be getting in over my head.'

"You mentioned you take this route on your way home from work," Eleanor said, breaking him out of his thoughts, "what do you do?"

"Hm? Oh, well I'm a mechanic, I guess you could say. I work down at the printers, where a lot of the city's newspapers are printed, though a lot of the bigger ones own their own presses." He held up his ink stained hands as evidence. "It's hot, dirty work, and it doesn't pay as well as I'd like, but it keeps me busy and pays the bills, so I can't really complain. Those machines are always breaking down though, and it can be dangerous crawling down in between the rollers. I know more than a couple guys that have lost hands or fingers when the machines started up with them still working on 'em."

"You seem to have all your fingers still attached though," Eleanor said. "I take it you're a skilled technician."

Thomas shrugged, glancing behind him at the girls following Eleanor. Every so often one of them would glance at him with curious eyes. "I do all right. More luck than skill I imagine, but sometimes that's all you need. I'll take what I can get in this city."

They walked in silence for awhile. Thomas craned his neck and looked at the clouds rolling in. The air was heavy with moisture, and the morning haze was thick. It was going to be a heavy rain. He just hoped it stopped before he had to go to work. He had nothing against a little rain, but he hated getting to work dripping wet. Wet clothes made for an uncomfortable day, especially since he didn't have anything to change into in his locker; he didn't really have much in the way of spare clothes.

"What's it like here?" Eleanor asked, breaking the silence with the first genuine trace of curiosity Thomas had heard from her. "I don't really know anything about this city. Truth be told, I only came to New York because I have a friend that lives here."

Thomas bit back the first questions that sprang to mind. He was still curious as to how Eleanor had ended up leading these children through the city in the middle of the night, but he doubted she would give him a straight answer even if he did ask. Not that he really blamed her. Trust isn't something that came cheap, especially when you were running from something.

"It can be a rough town," he said after a moment. "I grew up here, and things haven't always been easy. Still aren't. It's the same as anywhere else I guess; the law protects the guys with the money and lets us small fry fall through the cracks." There was a trace of bitterness in his voice that did not go unnoticed by Eleanor. "But I still love it here. It might not be the easiest place in the world to live, but everyone can find a place for themselves if they work at it. Nothing's gonna come free though, so I hope you're ready to work if you're looking to make a home here."

"Of course," Eleanor replied. "I'm not the type to sit idle anyway; it's not in my nature, you might say."

"That attitude is a good start, and this is as good a place as any for a girl with a pretty face to find some success," Thomas said. "I'm sure you'll be fine."

"Oh?" Eleanor said, giving him a sly look. "A pretty face, you say? I'll have to keep that in mind."

"Uh, yeah," Thomas said, looking away as he felt the heat rising in his cheeks.

A car drove past and Thomas watched as Eleanor tracked it with her eyes, moving to shield as many of the girls from view as she could. Given her strange behavior so far, Thomas wasn't terribly surprised by her actions, but it did make him wonder; was she just paranoid, or did she really have a reason to be so suspicious of every passerby? Of course, if that were the case then why had she asked him for help in the first place?

They rounded a corner onto Thomas's street. His neighborhood was never very busy, and this early in the morning the streets were deserted. Most of his neighbors worked day shifts, unlike him. They wouldn't be getting up for another hour or so. Given the circumstances, that was probably a good thing. He didn't relish the thought of having to explain the situation to any of his neighbors. While for the most part they kept to themselves, there were a few that were all too eager to pry into other people's business.

Buildings of brick and concrete lined the street, crammed together and in varying states of disrepair. While not what anyone would describe as the slums, the neighborhood was not exactly the kind of place you were likely to find any of the city's rich and famous spending much of their time. It didn't fall into any specific ethnic category either, though it was made up primarily of immigrants from Europe and the British isles. This made it a bit of an oddity in the city, but Thomas didn't particularly mind. He didn't feel any particular attachment to his Czech background, and would have felt out of place in a neighborhood heavily influenced by a culture he had never really known.

He glanced back down at the paper Eleanor had handed him. The address was familiar. Had he known someone that had lived there at some point? He couldn't think of anyone, but that didn't really mean anything. He wasn't the best when it came t names and faces. They passed by the apartment building he lived in, a six-story brick tower with a crumbling stoop and dirty windows, and continued down the street.

"Okay, if I remember right it should be just down the block here," he muttered, eyeing each building carefully, trying to identify the addresses. Numbers had a tendency to fade over the years, and the rate at which they were replaced left a bit to be desired.

"Did you say something?" Eleanor asked, tilting her head towards him.

"Oh, yeah, sorry," Thomas said, looking up from the slip of paper. "I think the building you're looking for is one of these," he pointed to a row of towers with steel gratings over the windows, "but it can be a bit tricky to identify them. A lot of the buildings here look the same, and—ah!" He knelt down by the stoop of the building they had just passed, examining the faded numbers engraved into the stone. "Looks like this is it."

The building was unremarkable, nearly identical to the other apartment complexes lining the street. It was clearly a bit newer than Thomas's building; the windows were cleaner, at the very least, and the front door appeared to have been recently replaced. Scuff marks on the concrete around the door frame indicated a break-in, which was not at all uncommon. There were always people trying to force their way into the buildings, be it for the purpose of theft, a disagreement with the landlord, or simply because a tenant forgot their key and was in a foul temper.

Eleanor was looking at the building with an unreadable expression on her face. The girls huddled around her seemed to be somewhere between eager and nervous. Thomas couldn't really blame them; starting a new life in a strange city had to be hard, and there was no telling what they were coming from. Eleanor's behavior was enough to make him think whatever it was they were running from couldn't be good.

"I see," Eleanor said after a moment of silence, a trace of relief in her voice. The steadily increasing light made it easier to see her features, and for the first time Thomas realized how exhausted she looked. Dark circles framed her eyes, and her posture sagged. It looked like it was all she could do to stay standing. Thomas could only imagine how tiring looking after all these children must have been. "Thank you, Thomas. You have been a great deal of help. I'm sorry I don't have anything to give you to repay your kindness."

"Hey, don't worry about it," Thomas said, holding up his hands and offering a smile. "I was going this way anyway. It's not like I really had to go out of my way or anything. Just try to take care of yourself, you look like you could use a rest."

Eleanor nodded, absently stroking the hair of one of the girls clinging to her. "It's been a long day, to say the least. I'm certainly looking forward to getting some rest. I know my sisters are as well," she said, smiling gently at the girls.

"Well, I live just down the street if you need anything," Thomas said, turning and pointing down the street. "Will you be alright? I feel sort of awkward leaving you on some stranger's doorstep after you went through all this trouble just to get here."

"I appreciate your concern," Eleanor said with a smile, "but I'm sure we'll be alright. Getting here was the hard part, I can handle the rest. But if I do need anything I'll know where to find you. I'm sure you'll find that I'm more than just another pretty face."

Thomas felt a strange warmth spreading through his chest at her words, and it took him a moment to realize he had a goofy looking grin on his face. He coughed, trying to hide his embarrassment. "S-sure. Well, take care then, Eleanor. I hope things work out for you and your sisters."

"Take care, Thomas. I'm sure we'll see you again sometime."

Thomas bid the strange company good night, before hurriedly making his way back down the street towards his apartment, sparing a backwards glance at Eleanor and her sisters. She waved at him, some of the children mimicking the gesture, before they disappeared inside the building. He spent a moment staring at the empty stoop before letting himself inside his own apartment.

The elevator was out of order, a condition it occupied at least six months out of the year. The old stairs creaked beneath his weight as he slogged up the four floors to his room, his feet guided by memory to avoid the stairs that creaked the loudest. Everyone that lived in his building worked long hours, and none of them appreciated being woken up earlier than was necessary. He could sympathize. There were few things more aggravating than having his precious few hours of sleep interrupted.

He fumbled for a moment with his key, before unlocking the door to his apartment and staggering inside, kicking off his boots and letting his jacket fall to the floor. Exhaustion hit him like a truck, the bizarre events of the night finally taking their toll. He stumbled into his bedroom and collapsed on the bed. He didn't even care that he was still covered in grease and ink; it wasn't like the sheets were particularly clean anyway, and he couldn't muster the energy to trudge to the bathroom and take a shower.

The gentle pitter patter of rain sounded against the window pane, and he heard another crack of thunder, much closer than before. He lay there for a while, just enjoying the sound of the rain and letting his aching body rest. It had been an unusual day. But, not entirely unpleasant. Eleanor really did seem like a nice girl. She clearly cared a great deal for those girls she called sisters. Not many people in this city would be willing to stick their neck out like that.

His cheeks flushed again as he remembered her smile. There was something terribly intense about her, but when she smiled, all that seemed to melt away and she was a normal teenage girl. Pretty face indeed.

The rain picked up and soon the glass of the window was shaking with each clap of thunder, but Thomas didn't mind. He let his mind wander, and soon the sounds of the storm lulled him to sleep.

A/N: Got more of a response than I had anticipated when I started, so a big thanks to everyone that read chapter one, and to those of you that reviewed. Certainly makes it easier to keep going. This chapter was planned out over the course of about an hour, and this is about half of what I wanted to include. I feel like it drags a bit, but it's a bunch of stuff I wanted to do, though I'm not sure how well it all works. The rest of what I was hoping for will be in the next chapter, but this one was already getting to be twice as long as the first chapter, and I like to keep things at least a little consistent in terms of length. The perspective change wasn't something I had originally planned on doing, but I wanted a character that might have some viability later on, and if I stayed in Eleanor's POV the whole time I felt like it would make him harder to write later on. Anyway, let me know if there are any glaring errors in here, and whether this is going anywhere interesting. Over ten thousand words in and I haven't even started getting to the real meat of the story. Oh well, slow paced stories aren't always awful.