Chapter 3: Time

"Booker?"

That voice was the voice that carried down the halls. It was the voice that made Booker stand a little taller, and straighter. It had matured, as far as he could hear. His eyes closing as he let his hands run over his face, knowing that he wanted to know what was going on, and if there was anyone that could help in aid of that, it was going to be Elizabeth. He heard the feet carrying themselves faster and faster down the stairs as the tensions started to rise. The figure of herself ran through the door and into the main room as she stared at him. Deeply into his eyes. There were tears that wanted to form in her eyes, he could tell that. He rested the Sky-hook, and the guns on the floor as he got time to take a good look at her.

Her clothing choices, not far frayed from when he last saw her, but major adjustment. Blue still was the color of choice. Her hair, still short, but rugged and messy. Her face firm, and defined as she stood tall. "Elizabeth...what's going on I thought...I thought I ended all of this. What...and how..?"

Elizabeth didn't take anytime as she pushed herself across that floor as fast as she could and into his arms even faster. The hug was...tight, and more embraced then any he had given her. His arms returned the hug, holding her there for a moment as he looked around the house once again. "Elizabeth..." he said as his voice strayed, pulling her in front of him. "Why am I alive? Why are you...still...Elizabeth? Your my daughter...I know you are...You have to be. But those god damn twins say otherwise. I know you are, we found out remember? That's why you drowned me right? To stop Comstock? But this war...Comstock was never apart of it, it seems."

Elizabeth was taken a bit back by the words that he was saying. Her eyes wide with what he had just said, and slightly offended as the smile, and joyful teared eyes, replaced by almost anger, and hurt. "Booker where have you been?! In the world below trying to bring more back up to help with the war, or locked up in the Vox Populi's tower?!" She looked down and thought about the words that he said. "Or somewhere for 5 years getting completely shit faced and loosing the memories and sanity that you had! What are you even talking about? I'm by no means your daughter Booker, and you have no right to just be a smart ass because your own daughter is out there, thinking she is having the time of her life and killing the Vox. But I am the one having to worry sick almost every single day if she is going to stay alive one more day. And here I stood. Not knowing if you were going to come back. I have been fighting for the right's of Columbia Booker, and obviously you were not! I never drowned you, what the hell is wrong with you? And who is Comstock, some Vox leader that I should know about...I don't really want to have anymore leaders then they have branched out."

Booker was taken back by her forcefulness, and her language for that matter. He looked at her, his face confused. His fingers, ran through his hair as he tried to think. The word's of the Luteces ran through his mind. 'You have no memory of this Booker.' Still he couldn't act like this was okay. He still had a daughter to find and Elizabeth wasn't it, he was at square one, and a thousand miles back from it. She didn't know who Comstock was...well that was slightly understandable because he was never created...But that also raised the question, If Elizabeth was in no was connected to Comstock in the first place...then who was she? "Elizabeth I...Never mind about who Comstock is. But you have to believe me...I was in a reality where I was stuck in my office...reliving the horror of having Anna gone every single day...That was the reality I thought was real. Not remembering anything about the past. Not about you, Or Comstock, Or Slate, Or Daisy. Your Tears and being able to see how each one played out...I thought you would come and get me out of that hell. Help me find Anna.. But...You said...You said she is here! Anna! My daughter she is here?! Why was she here the whole time? And maybe you can help me explain this" He held out his hand, the initials E.D. "Why would I have that carved into my hand...what does it mean...And why, on this ungodly earth do I have a wedding band on my finger. I was never married after my wife died giving birth to Anna! Elizabeth please...

Booker's eyes started to just sink as Elizabeth's face started to grow with anger and rage. Probably the most angered he had ever seen her...Ever. He knew he should have played along. Oh how he should have played along. He knew there would be major explaining to do. And even with trying to explain like he was, he didn't think he could do it without Robert and Rosalind.

"You think this is a joke don't you Booker? You think that you came come back after 5 year's and make a god damn joke out of all of this! Do you know how many years it took before I thought you as for dead! You must have wasted your time, or had to have been really brainwashed by the Vox to even think those things. Booker you never had an office! You were always here, helping the people of Columbia...But here you talk of men that I have know knowings of...This Comstock and Slate...you really pushed yourself over the rail this time! But I know...I know for certain that your not all lost...Daisy...Daisy Fitzroy? Booker she is almost starved herself to death in the Prison. You were the one who captured her and never killed her." Elizabeth had that time to calm herself, but she went on to grow even more with rage. "You don't bring my Tears into this...I could never see how things were going to happen Booker, only use them for...wish fulfillment. You talk of going in and out of reality and I'm starting to think that you did! But the fact that you are calling your own daughter by her wrong name. Booker your not the father I thought you were. To leave her here with me to only watch her want her father more and more, and then grow dead inside. It's bad enough she grew as fast as she did. But as for your hand, I couldn't tell you what you did or what it means. But as for your last statement...You can't just say your not married Booker thats..." Her face became as red and angered as Booker had see any women. She stormed off without hesitation saying as he heard her feet walking all the way up the stairs.

All Booker could hear after that was her voice, loud enough to carry down the house, but quiet enough not for the public to hear. It was something of, 'That sick bastard. How dare he question his own Marriage?' He couldn't believe she just blew him off like that. Groaning out of complete emotional exhaustion, out of all of that, he heard two other voices. And the ones he did not want to hear.

"I told you he would say that."

"Yes but, in theory you never said, when he was going to state it."

"Maybe the fact that he stated it early will only help the healing process."

"A broken women."

"And a lost man."

Booker rubbed his eyes looking over at them as he picked up the gun and raised it towards them. "Okay you two sick demented people. You make the women that I thought was my daughter, say she is not my daughter. That I have a daughter, but Anna is not her name. This world is in ruin. I'm married to some women out there. How do you even begin to explain this to me."

"It's not explaining it to you, it's letting you make the mistake of your loud mouth."

"We warned."

"No Robert it is we HAD warned him."

"Quite the contrary. No matter, Booker. You have some cleaning up to do before you even think about going out and fighting for a side that you have no idea who or what each side is fighting for. But you need to so get to work."

Booker couldn't even bare what they were saying to him. He was as mad as Elizabeth was at him. He looked away, and was going to pull the trigger. But something inside told him not to do it. But by the time he looked back...They were both gone. Again.


Author's Note-Well, I suppose Booker has some explaining to do. And yet so does Elizabeth. I really do hope you all are enjoying this as much as I am. Because having scribbles on a paper for this story is nothing compared to being able to write it for an audience. Stay tuned!