Rapture, January 1959

Elizabeth glared at the man before her. It seemed impossible that there could exist someone more vile, more twisted than Comstock, but Atlas was living proof of it. "You know what? Andrew Ryan said I was a rube. But he was wrong. I'm not the rube, Atlas. You are. Now, we both know what happens next. Just get it over with." She spat.

Atlas shrugged. "Well, love… if you insist."

Elizabeth's vision exploded into white flashes as a sharp searing pain pierced her head. She gasped, stumbling, and all at once a vision came to her... a broken mirror, a plane… She barely heard Atlas's voice yelling at her, dragging her back into reality.

"What is this? It's just a buncha gibberish! What does this say, you little whore? Hey, hey, hey! What does this say?"

Elizabeth opened her eyes painfully, her head whirling. The pain was unbearable. She opened her mouth, the words coming slowly. "It says… 'would you kindly.'" She vaguely registered Atlas turning to his men, yelling at them about an activation phrase. Her vision dulled. Her head throbbed. Atlas turned back to her, raising his wrench again, and Elizabeth waited for the deathblow to come, too drained to even close her eyes and prepare for the end.

But the blow never came. She watched, her addled mind managing to register some astonishment as a hand suddenly gripped Atlas's, stopping his swing midway. She struggled to see who her savior was, but the effort was too much. Her vision faded to black, and she knew no more.

"We've got the activation phrase. Now all we've got to do is get that genetic freak on an airplane, and Rapture's ours." Booker stepped through the tear just as Atlas was turned away, yelling at his men, who were already almost all the way out of the corridor. Good. Less trouble to deal with. He unclipped his holster, stepping towards Atlas silently as the man turned back towards Elizabeth, ready to deliver the killing blow. He shot his hand out, gripping Atlas's arm tightly, and saw Atlas turned towards him, his eyes wide with shock.

"What the hell do you think you're doing to my daughter?" Booker growled as he brought his other fist up, smashing it into Atlas's face with a crunch. Atlas stumbled backwards with a cry of pain.

"You!" Atlas yelled, shock evident on his features. "You're Booker DeWitt! But… you died! I saw your body!" Booker realized he was talking about Comstock.

"That's right. I died. I came back from the dead to stop you from killing my little girl." He said menacingly. A lie, and a ridiculous one at that, but he knew from his experiences in war that people were easily fooled when they were caught off-guard. He withdrew his gun, a hand cannon, from his holster, and levelled it with Atlas's forehead. "Now, are you going to walk away like a good little boy," Booker spat the words, "Or do you want a new orifice to suck air from?"

Atlas glared at him, then to Elizabeth. He reached a hand up to his face, dabbing at the blood from his broken nose. He started to chuckle. "You have a mean hook, Booker DeWitt. Fine. I'll go. I have what I need anyway." He tossed the wrench aside carelessly, and turned around. "Enjoy your time with your daughter. You won't have much longer."

Booker did not lower his gun until Atlas was well away out of sight. He sighed as he did so, thankful that the confrontation had gone a lot smoother than he had dared hope. Rushing to Elizabeth's side, he called her name, but she did not respond.

"Elizabeth. Elizabeth!" He whispered desperately. He felt for a pulse, and felt an immeasurable amount of thankfulness when he felt one. But he could not help worry that even that one single blow had been enough to push her over the edge.

"Well done, Mr DeWitt." Robert's voice came from behind. Booker looked up.

"Will she be alright?" He asked anxiously. Robert shook his head.

"I am no doctor, Mr DeWitt. But we have both done all that we can. The rest is up to her, now." Booker nodded, lifting Elizabeth up gently in his arms. He looked over at the corner, where Sally was hiding behind some rubble, her eyes wide with fear.

"Go along now, little girl." Robert said to her, his voice calm and soothing. "Mr Bubbles is waiting." Sally's face brightened at the mention of her Big Daddy, and she disappeared down the corridor. Booker watched as her figure faded into the darkness, smiling to himself, secure in the knowledge that whatever Elizabeth had set into motion, Sally would be safe.

"Come on, Elizabeth." He said to her, "Let's go home."