Booker DeWitt wakes with a shout, cold sweat clinging to him, his pulse racing as he shakes his head, trying to rid himself of the lingering nightmare. Sighing, he rubs his eyes, an eyebrow rising as he finds his fingers coming away wet.

"I must be losing my mind."

Visions have been plaguing Booker's waking life for a year now, and now the nightmares torment him when he sleeps. While the visions are varied, about a flying city, him and a girl, the nightmare is always the same, though each time it gets longer, filling in blanks. Always it ends with him in tears as the girl passes away.

"One week. How long is this going to haunt me?" Sighing, Booker turns his head to the window, enjoying the late afternoon breeze as he runs his fingers through his hair. The girl in the visions is the same as the one in his nightmare, and the sorrow he felt whenever she was struck down nagged at him, a question beginning to occupy his thoughts.

"Who is she?"

Shaking his head, Booker pushes himself up from his desk, trying to clear his head, "Maybe I just need a job, something to keep me busy." Not a single client had come to DeWitt Investigations in a week, the same time the nightmares had started, and as he looks about the empty office, another sigh escapes him.

He'd thrown out all the alcohol, race tickets and card a long time ago, but otherwise the office looked as rundown as it did a year ago. His bed still lay in the corner; his daughter's crib still stands in the only other room in the apartment. Scratching his head, Booker moves to check on Anna, asleep in the other room.

His fingers were just encircling the doorknob when a knock comes from the front door, startling him, a voice sounding from the other side, "Mr. DeWitt."

"It's open." The words were out of his mouth before he knew it, the voice outside somehow familiar. No sooner had the door opened than Booker wondered if he was going to regret this.

"Mr. DeWitt." The man darkening his doorway spoke, his voice and speech very prim and proper, "You and I have much to discuss." He wears a pale yellow-brown jacket, his right hand in the pocket of his brown trousers, the left behind his back.

Looking the stranger up and down, trying to shake the sense of déjà vu as he assessed the man, Booker steps away from Anna's room, moving to stand in front of his desk, "What would a gentleman like yourself have to discuss with me? And call me Booker."

"Someone needs your help, Mr. DeWitt, someone only you can help." The red-haired stranger removes his hand from his right pocket, revealing a small cameo brooch and a long, tattered strip of blue fabric, like a long ribbon.

"Alright… let's talk business, Mr...?" Booker takes a step towards the oddly familiar stranger, but his eyes are drawn to what he holds instead.

"Lutece. You seem oddly fascinated by these trinkets, Mr. DeWitt. Have you seen these before?" A touch of a smile tugs at Lutece's features, Booker shaking his head half-heartedly, "Are you certain? You haven't been having visions of another life, another world… high above the clouds? About… a girl?"

"How the hell do you know that?" Lutece's words bring Booker out of his reverie, suspicion tinging his voice.

"Because they happened, to someone who is you, and yet not you. The visions and the nightmare, all came to pass." He nods slightly as Booker's breath catches in his throat at the mention of the nightmare coming to pass. Lutece turns over the brooch, a figure of a bird on its silver surface. "The bird, or the cage, Mr. DeWitt?"

Visions flood Booker's thoughts, drowning his consciousness as the events of another life play out before him, far clearer than those that came before.

"Not visions, memories." The words were spoken in his voice, but he did not speak them. He sees Columbia, high in the clouds, the people, fire coming to his fingers as if by magic, Monument Island, and finally, the girl.

"Elizabeth…"

"She's important to you." Lutece's voice pierces the clamor of memories.

"Yes…" Booker didn't know why, but from the pain and grief he felt in the nightmare, he knew it to be true. He'd felt something missing this past year, something he couldn't recall, something that left him feeling lonesome.

"As I said, your nightmare has already come to pass, but…" That gets Booker's attention, "History can be rewritten. Power such as hers does not simply disappear. It lingers, for now, giving us an opportunity, an opportunity to finally set things right. If you would save her, I will help you." Lutece turns away, his voice quiet as if speaking to no one, "What price will you pay to set her free?"

Booker stares at Lutece, "But… but I have a daughter, Anna. She's not even two."

"I understand, but I believe you've asked your neighbor to look after her before, yes? An elderly woman, if I'm not mistaken. Rest assured, you shouldn't be gone so long that Anna will be put in jeopardy." From behind his back, Lutece withdraws a curved metal plate, circuitry poking out the sides, lights blinking from inside and a thin metal rod sticking straight out one end. A single button adorns the outer surface, the whole device looking as if it could fit on his forearm.

"The memories of the other life will come in time. Sadly, I cannot send you to her directly, but I will try to lead you in the right direction. This Tear Device will attune you to the Tears, letting you see them, as well as protecting you from the initial shock, though… that may not be necessary."

Booker barely hears him, the memories not quite settled in his mind, and finds himself with the Tear Device strapped to his arm, Lutece handing him a brown satchel. Rubbing his eyes again, Booker peers at Lutece, trying to figure out his angle in all this. "Alright, Lutece, I'll do it."

He must have expected resistance, surprise registering on Lutece's face. "…Well, that was fairly painless. I never thought you'd come along so willingly."

"I don't have all the pieces yet, but I do know I need to find her. Somehow, she's… important, special to me. I can't just… go on, knowing what will happen to her…" Reaching for the brooch and fabric, Booker runs his thumb over the bird and fabric, both stirring feelings but nothing clear.

"I remember… a debt to be repaid, a promise, and… something else."

"Good… I must insist you make haste. The power she left behind… the remnants that allow this Tear Device to operate is dissipating, and once gone, you will be trapped wherever and whenever you are. Also, her actions are integral to the timeline, interfering too early will destabilize everything, the Tears included."

"So don't step in too early." Nodding, slipping the satchel over his shoulder, Booker steps out after retrieving his revolver, "I'll need a minute, Ms. Pearl loves to chat…"

Ten minutes later, Booker steps back into the office, a homemade blanket in hand. "She has a lot of time on her hands…" Seeing the amused expression on Lutece's face, Booker sighs, instead turning to check on Anna.

A smile brightens Booker's mood as he steps into his daughter's room, leaning over her crib. "Anna," Booker whispers to his daughter as he covers her with the blanket, still sound asleep, "your dad needs to go, but I'll be back soon. I love you, sweetheart." He kisses her on the forehead before stepping away, she stirring in her sleep as he does. A fragment of memory stirs, slowing his feet as he leaves, Booker dismissing it as part of the confusion.

Closing the door behind him, Booker turns to Lutece, "So you were saying not to step in too early?"

"And don't interfere in any of the events you are about to witness." Lutece added, leading Booker out of his office, a Tear waiting outside, "There's a pocket watch in your supplies, should you find yourself losing time."

Thinking back to the memories, of Columbia, being chased by the Founders, breaking into Monument Tower, meeting Elizabeth… her dancing on the pier after escaping Songbird. Booker's throat tightens as he remembers her.

He vaguely hears Lutece promise he won't be long and that Anna will be safe and sound when he returns. Pocketing the brooch and tattered cloth as the Tear opens, Booker steps through.