Chapter 4: Family Reunion

Light returned slowly to Booker DeWitt's eyes, though much too quickly for his liking. He tried to remember the dream he had had last night. Anna was there. She was offering him a chance at…what had she called it? Redemption. He had never dreamed of seeing her all grown up before, but it had not been a particularly nice dream. And it was doing nothing to help his splitting headache now.

"Mister DeWitt?" Booker nearly jumped straight out of bed and landed on the floor.

"What?!" He barked far too loudly as his hung-over mind was assaulted by the bring light of dawn. His hand instinctively went to grab the gun off his bedside table; but it was not there. When he finally collected himself, a young woman sitting near his bedside was offering him a drink.

"Drink this. My book said it would help." She offered.

"What's in it?" Booker took and sniffed the drink.

"You should know not to ask that question by now." Elizabeth answered him. Booker downed the drink without further question and without wincing at the terrible taste. He blinked and tried to take in what had become of his office. It had not been a dream after all.

During the night his young intruder had somehow managed to clean his office of all bottles and cigarette butts, go grocery shopping, make him whatever was in that drink, dry her clothes, and make the room smell significantly better than normal.

She now sat at his desk enjoying what looked to be a freshly made scone and warm cup of tea, which he had no idea where she got. For him she had prepared a cream cheese bagel and a hot cup of coffee, by which he was equally confused.

"How did-," Booker scratched his head and considered the possibility that he was still dreaming; normally his hangovers did not persist with him into his dreams.

"It's a bit of a long story." She told him. "But I promise I'll explain." He was eyeing her more suspiciously than she had ever seen anyone look at her before. She wondered if this was how the Lutece twins often felt.

"Am I…" Booker considered what events he could remember from the past night. "I'm not dead, am I?" He asked, hoping that hangovers did not continue into the afterlife.

"No." Elizabeth informed him. "And you're not dreaming either. You're going to have to trust me on this, because when I tell you the truth you're not going to want to believe me."

Booker nodded, but did not seem convinced. He took the bagel and coffee he was offered.

"I had to guess on how you like it," Elizabeth said apologetically as he took a sip; one sugar and no cream. It was some of the best coffee he had ever tasted. Definitely not from any shop around here.

"So…" He tried to begin a conversation, but did not know where to start. There were so many questions that each one on its own seemed like too small or too big a query. Finally, having sat drinking their tea and coffee in silence for some time, Booker settled on "You said you needed my help?"

"Yes." The young woman answered. "I need you to… well…" Out of all of the outlandish things Booker could have questioned, this did seem to be the most difficult to describe. "There's a lot to explain." She said, frustrated. She placed her tea to the side and took a deep breath. "Icanopenportalstootherworlds." She blurted out in one breath.

"Excuse me?" Booker raised an incredulous eyebrow.

"I can… open portals to other worlds." Elizabeth repeated slowly. "This world, it's not the only world that exists. Just one possibility among an infinite number of possibilities." The look on Booker's face said that even if he understood what she was saying, he now wondered if she was the one dreaming.

"Umm, here, I'll just…" Elizabeth stood up and pointed to the empty corner of the small room by the door. In a flash of light, the corner with its dingy peeling wallpaper was gone, replaced by an airy balcony somewhere where roses grow.

"What the Hell!?" Booker jumped, dropping his coffee mug, which shattered on the floor. He was still sitting on his bed and now backed into the corner, looking at Elizabeth like she might have been a witch.

Elizabeth pointed again and the balcony vanished.

"What in God's name was that?!" Booker was standing when she looked back, ready to fight or to run.

"It was a tear." Elizabeth told him calmly, sipping her tea once more. "Here's another." She waved her hand in the direction of the remains of his coffee mug and all at once it was replaced by a mug sitting, unbroken and filled with coffee, on the floor.

"How the Hell…" Booker backed away from the magical coffee mug and away from the magical girl sitting at his desk.

"In another world, in another version of this room, in another version of this conversation, you put your coffee down before I opened the tear and you didn't spill it." Elizabeth informed him calmly. "I can see and access all of those worlds."

"How?" This Booker seemed much more incredulous than she remembered Booker DeWitt being, but this Booker had not been on a floating city, running from a giant semi-mechanical bird creature while shooting flames and lightning from his hands. Not yet anyway.

"That's also a long story…"

"Well I want to hear it." Booker snapped, standing. He was growing more agitated the longer this girl sat uninvited in his apartment opening up magical portals to who-knows-where. "And what does any of this have to do with me?"

"Booker…" Elizabeth knew she had to tread carefully now. His brow knotted as her tone switched from the formal 'Mister DeWitt' to the sound of someone addressing an old and dear friend. "I'm from a different world too."

"Yeah? What's it to me?" He was scared. She could feel it.

"Booker, in the world I came from your daughter, Anna, didn't die." Booker's breath caught, his eyes growing wide.

"So…so what are you saying?" He asked, disarmed. "Are you saying I could get her back?" Elizabeth nodded. "Where is she?" Booker followed quickly. "Is she safe? How do I help her?"

"Booker," Elizabeth stopped him. "What I said last night wasn't a lie..." She swallowed hard. "I'm Anna." She whispered. Booker's heart seemed to stop beating.

"…What?" The tall man stepped closer, his voice suddenly low and threatening. If this were some sort of trick, the girl in his office would regret it.

"I know it's hard to believe, but I'm Anna. An Anna from a world where she – where I - didn't die." Elizabeth explained as quickly as she could, standing now to face Booker. "It's another reality, another possibility, in which Anna lived. She lived, Booker, and I'm… I'm her." She reached forward and took her father's hand in her own. The gruff man melted at her touch, all fear and intimidation falling from his face in an instant.

"Wh-Why should I believe you?" Booker stammered, but she could see the tears already filling his eyes as this broken man dared to hope. Her hands were soft against his rough and calloused knuckles. She looked just like her mother. Raven black hair, deep blue eyes. He could see it now. It was not a dream.

"Because…" Elizabeth answered his nearly forgotten question. "Father…" The word was as a bell, transforming her explanation into a homecoming. It was the first time she had ever called him that. The first time she had ever said the name with love. "I think you already do." She stepped closer.

Booker stood paralyzed, mouth agape and tears now escaping the corners of his eyes. "A-Anna?" He called her, raising a hand to her cheek to prove one last time that she was not a ghost.

In the next instant Elizabeth was in her father's arms. His embrace was warm and strong. He smelled like whiskey and smoke and his stubbly beard scratched her smooth brow. Tears filled her eyes and she smiled against his chest as she finally learned what it felt like to hug her father, and to be held as a daughter. After all she had been through with Comstock, her real father's embrace was more wonderful than she could have imagined.

"Anna…" Booker wept her name, holding her close and laying his head on top of hers. "Anna I'm so sorry…"

Elizabeth did not realize how much she needed this moment until it was upon her. "It's okay." she told him, tears falling freely as she buried her face into his shoulder. "I forgive you." She was barely able to speak the next words for the rush of joy and grief they brought her "I…I love you, Daddy."

Booker's arms tightened around his little girl's shoulders and for a long while he could not speak. "I-I love you too, Anna." He whispered at last.

Elizabeth had not expected this when she knocked on his door late last night. Everything had always been so chaotic around her and Booker, she had not really considered the possibility of finally just being what they were: a family. Now that she had, the chance all other possibilities seemed worthless. "I missed you." She mumbled against him. All of her life, she had missed this.

"I missed you too." He was practically rocking her back and forth now, refusing to let go. When they finally pulled apart, both a mess of snot and tears, he looked her over in a new light, sniffing and smiling. "How…" He could not even complete the question. "How can…"

"I'll show you, in time." Elizabeth answered. "We've got a lot of catching up to do, you and I." she laughed, wiping at her tears. "And Booker, I still need your help." She tried desperately to remember the severity of the reason she came.

"Anything." He was dumbstruck at the miracle before him. "Anything for my little girl!"

"I need you to come with me. There's something I have to do and I can't do it alone." Elizabeth had a two-part plan, but it had vanished from her mind the moment she called him 'Daddy'. She took a moment to breathe and remind herself: Sally. Sally needs your help.

"Of course." Booker immediately began to ready himself to go out the door, pulling things from drawers and looking around to find his gun.

"Booker." Elizabeth grabbed his hand to stop him. "There's a whole lot more I have to explain." He was now listening intently, ready to believe anything she could tell him. It was certainly a change from the man glaring at her half an hour before. "In the world I came here from a lot has happened. There was another Booker there, another you. He saved me, but I lost him. And…" Elizabeth sighed once more in frustration. Follow the plan. "I need you to be him."

Booker's brow knotted. "Aren't I already?"

"Well yes, but… I need my old Booker back." She said as plainly as she could. She was well aware that she sounded like some spoiled child, never satisfied with the gift she was given, but now as she tried to distance herself from the moment they had just shared Elizabeth did not know if she could really be Anna DeWitt after all that had happened. She was Elizabeth, and she needed him to be Elizabeth's Booker, not Anna's. The Booker DeWitt who broke into her tower was not the same man who had followed her back to the river, and she needed that Booker back.

Booker was starting to look worried. "But… does that mean… you'll leave?"

"No!" Elizabeth reassured quickly. "It just means that you'll… change." Booker nodded, but did not understand. "We've got a trip ahead of us. We're going to go back to the world I came here from." Elizabeth continued. "When we get there, the contrast will cause you severe mental dissonance. You will suddenly have two memories at once competing to both be true."

"I'll remember you as having lived?" Booker did not yet see what the big problem was.

"Yes. But there's a lot more than that. You'll remember everything we went through together, and that's a lot. I'll try to take it slow, but you're going to have a whole new life in your head. It won't be easy." Elizabeth told him, hoping she was not asking too much. She knew she was. "You're still going to be Booker DeWitt – you'll still be my father." She tried to reassure him. "You'll just be a different Booker. Understand?"

"Yes." Booker answered, though she did not believe him. "And I want to be that man, that man that saved you. I-I don't want to be the man who lost my baby girl." He added quietly. "I guess you figured that out last night." He looked down.

"Well, there's one more thing…" Elizabeth finally handed Booker back his gun, which she had been keeping hidden since the incident the previous night. "Booker," She looked him in the eye. "This is going to hurt."