Sorry for the long wait, I was working on the easier to write "Crash Course." Here is something special. I wanted to make this final chapter (Read the end, for the love of god!) as perfect as I could get it. As a Freshman in highschool, I'd say I did a pretty good job.


Booker shuddered. God. Why did everything have to always go wrong? Memories kept coming back. Annabelle, something he buried away, hidden between the depth of his heart. Brought back to the forefront of his thoughts.

Get outta my head! Just leave me alone. I'm sorry dammit, but I can't do anything.

Elizabeth was still clung to him. They both had laid against the kitchen table, which was now pressed up against the wall. Booker hauled himself to his feet and carried his still sleeping wife, into an actual bed.

As he lifted her up, she woke. She let out a small groan and shifted, so that she could see his eyes.

Booker caught her glance, and they both held it. His murky green eyes flooded into her river blue ones. He let out a whisper, "I don't… I don't want to give him money."

He placed Elizabeth down, who grasped his hand. "What do you want?" Booker glanced at the floor. He turned around and swiftly walked into their bedroom, and walked into the closet.

Elizabeth, confused, stared on. Booker walked out with his ornate box. He lifted it open, and pulled out the picture. "Memories. Liz, I want him to remember you. Maybe, then. Then, I'd have done something worthwhile."

Elizabeth nodded. "You know, saving me. I never got to say thank you. I may have shown you, through my actions. But… I never said it. I hoped, not drowning you would've been enough. But. Booker, thank you. For saving me. For killing Comstock. For coming. I don't care how long it was. I knew it. I knew you would come for me. But now, were married. We've got a little Anna on the way. And maybe… just maybe giving him the memories. Can wipe away the debt."


Rosalind awoke with a start. She padded her way to the Lutece Tear Machine and simply stared at it.

Was continuing on working on this device worth it? What were they hoping to achieve? Would they spend their days wandering time and space as they once did in Columbia?

Robert walked up beside her. He grasped her hand. "We've got to do this. Money isn't the answer. But you know what? I'd do anything to break their circle of pain. I regret serving Comstock. Everyday, I wake up and feel the guilt slowly eat me away."

Robert stopped, and pulled Rosalind to face him. "You know what though? Despite it all. This Liz and Booker. Their love. Their, acceptance of each other. That's something that made it all hurt less."

Rosalind looked passed him and stared at the machine. "Yes… Robert. I'm sorry. For… everything. For bringing you to be here with me, so that we could help this Prophet build his dream. I thought I could keep him in check. But obviously, us Physicists, aren't quite good with people."

Robert let out a slight laugh. His eyes glittered with a slight mark of happiness. "I don't regret working with you. We are both sides of the same coin, you are my other part. That's something I wouldn't trade for anything in the world."

Rosalind was about to embrace him, maybe even give him a rare kiss. But the phone rang, snapping their attention away from each other.

Robert perked up, and walked his way to the device. He lifted it up, to be met with Booker's gruff voice.

"I'm comin' Robert. Earlier than expected. Get ready, 'cause Liz and I have thought of a plan. A damn good one, in fact."


Booker slammed his fist against the oak door. Elizabeth quickly grabbed his hand. "What are doing? People are going to think we are breakin-"

The door was now wide open, revealing a very annoyed Rosalind. "Nice of you to grace our presence, Dewitt."

Booker grimaced and stepped inside the apartment, on the heels of a blushing Elizabeth.

When he stepped forward, looking at the machine, Booker couldn't stop the guilt from slowly eating away.

Maybe, this deed, would help him erase the bad ones? Nice try, Bastard. But a dunk in the river isn't gonna change who you are.

Booker quickly grasped his temples, letting out a slight groan, which to the Lutece's went unheard.

But to the only person it mattered to heard. Elizabeth was at his side in a instant. She grabbed his face and turned him to face her. As he glanced back at her, he could see her eyes filled to the brim with worry.

He sighed. "I'm good. Don't worry. Let's just go."

Elizabeth frowned, and something in Booker caused him to remember. Remember her, waking him up. From when he was drowning. That was her exact face. He shook his head, and stood up.

He looked at Robert, who just finished his initial diagnostics. He pulled the lever, and the tear opened. Elizabeth gave him a hug and pulled his right hand to touch her stomach. "Me and Anna will be waiting for you, when you come back."

Booker smiled, flashing her his pearly teeth. She cursed the fact that they weren't at their own home, because she wanted to escalate the position they were in. But she quietly swooned.

Booker stepped into the tear.

The world warped around him. He gripped his leather holster and stumbled. His eyes fogged up and when he reopened them, he was in a bar.

He was confused. Oh yeah. A random memory each time. Which memory was this one though? Where you meet Annabelle.

His glanced around the bar when his caught himself. The 19 year old, life in his eyes, drinking and talking to… Elizabeth?

No. His green eyes scanned over her distracted blue ones. Not as sharp, more dulled down. He shifted, and switched seats and looked in Booker's eyes. Sharp hits of hurt. But.

That was for killing. Not for marrying his sort-of daughter. Impregnating her, and having two physicists, as friends. Not for watching his wife being mutilated in front of him as he was tied down and his daughter in her room, screeching.

He shook his head and walked out.

He stepped inside his apartment building and was greeted by a Bill who had a lot less wrinkles in his face.

"Christ kid, look at what the booze has done to you. Either I'm losin' my mind, but you look older than when you left!"

Booker grimaced. "Thanks Bill, way to make me feel self conscious."

Bill let out a laugh and Booker walked up the stairs.

Great. How are you going to get in? Through the roof.

He dashed up the stairs, glad everyone was out and opened the door. The damp concrete under his feet made him feel right at home. He walked over to the vent and pulled out his screwdriver. He lifted the vent out of the way and crawled in. He slid the vent into his room open and fell out.

He hit the floor with a thud and got to his feet. He looked around. He hefted the small box onto his desk and positioned it to be facing the door. He gazed down at the outdated picture of Elizabeth.

Without thinking, he grabbed the blue cloth that he always had on him and tore a piece off. He slid it inside the box as well.

He moved back into the cramped vents, and got onto the roof, where he watched the streets for signs of Annabelle and him.

Booker spent the entire night there, on the roof. Huddled in a sleeping bag and under a tent. The cold air wisped around his body. It was early morning when he woke. He was starving, but he needed to check on himself.

Light poured into his tent. He groaned at looked at the tent flap. Rosalind was hovering there. "You just gonna lay there, hungry? Or do you want some of what Elizabeth cooked?"

He shot up straight. "God yes."


He peered through the vents, desperately trying to find some emotion in the shoulders of himself.

Booker glanced at the picture before him. Was that, Annabelle as a child? The woman who lay asleep in his bedroom?

If so, who'd send that to him?

Still, the cloth, faded and with dried blood, interested him. He hoped that wasn't a client's way of asking for help or something.

He flipped the card around, looking for some clarification.

Elizabeth.

Who the hell was Elizabeth?

Booker whispered from the vents. He knew he was getting it. "Daughter… daught-"

Booker whipped around, expecting for someone to be behind him? What did he say? Daughter.

Something in him clicked.

This girl resembled Annabelle, and him. He gasped aloud. This was his child, right here. "Oh my god!" He shouted.

Booker was pleased. He saw Annabelle walk out of the bedroom. Wearing his shirt. Oh god. Shut it out. Shut it out. He surprised himself by letting out a light groan, and he could see Booker grimace and let tension lock his shoulders.

But not for hearing him.

He was had to do something, he quickly shoved the picture and cloth into the small box. Annabelle eyed him, and the container. "What've you go there?" she inquired. Slightly skeptical at what it's contents may be.

Booker searched his mind for an explanation. "Actually, I've got no clue. Take a look for yourself."

She stepped forward and hefted the box open. Her eyes first caught the picture. A teen no older than fourteen. She resembled her. Annabelle gasped.

Booker spoke, "Your bleeding!"

"That's our kid! That's me and you, rolled into her."

Booker had to get out of the vent. He quickly scrambled out, hitting the cramped metal walls, but they didn't notice. They noticed the memories flooding in.

Booker didn't bother to move the tent or anything. He groaned, blood was now pouring freely from his nose. His head didn't fare much better. It slammed him with head pounding shots of vivid light.

Even worse, Elizabeth tried to telepathically communicate with him. Her garbled words hit into his frontal lobe, causing him to groan in pain and fall to his knees.

The universe warped around him and the doorway back to his universe was hanging wide open. Booker, now dripping with blood and soaked in sweat, stumbled into the portal.

He hit the carpeted floors with a thud and his head slowly stopped tried to tear itself apart. He coughed and rolled on his back to face the trio of worried faces staring down at him.

Elizabeth hauled him to his feet and then slammed into his body, threatening to take him back down to the floor.

Her face pulled away from his chest and her blue eyes faced him, scanning for signs of irreversible damage.

"I'm fine, 'Liz. For real, just, actually fuck. I don't know what happened."

Robert spoke up, "But I think we've got an idea of what's going on. You closed half of the circle, by having both previous Bookers and Annabelles understand parts of the future."

Elizabeth gasped behind them. "But doesn't that mean I'll… cease to exist? Because Booker and Annabelle are forced to have a happy ending, that means, oh god. Our Anna! My baby!"

She nearly hit the spot where Booker landed, but he had his strength back and caught her before she could realize she was falling.

Rosalind spoke, "You both, are our prime verisons of yourselves. You've done what others hadn't and couldn't do. This causes you to no longer bind to the circle. But, you've got to tie up loose ends. Or else Booker is going to suffer from constant memories from other worlds."

Robert cleared his throat. "Either he goes insane, or he get's glances of what can happen, what will happen and… well. Who's favorite person can do that-"

The DeWitts spoke in unison. "Comstock."

Booker clutched his temples. "So what then? What do I have to do next?"

Robert sighed. "This, is the unclear part. You've tied up Annabelle's future. She stays alive, with Booker. There kid will most likely be named whatever the back of the photograph will be. Elizabeth."

Rosalind, "I've been piecing together thoughts. You've made Annabelle and Booker stay together, so what about you two? I think the child, Elizabeth, is the key. Once born, that's it. No more fate-changing. Death and pain will no longer hold you in it's grasp. There will no longer be a man, a lighthouse and a city. It will just be you two."

Booker plopped himself on the chair. "Thank god. I'd go through Columbia again if I had to, but that's not something I'm looking to do again." He pulled out a handkerchief and wiped the river of blood that stopped flowing.

Elizabeth let out a breath. "It'll be just us. I'll still have my powers, but… there's not gonna be anymore Bookers and Elizabeth. Just us. Just me, Booker, little Anna and you two. The last remnants from Columbia."


October 21, 1913

Seven Months, Four Days and Three Hours past last event.

Booker slammed his fist against the doorway. "Rosalind! You aren't even qualified to do this! Let me in there!"

Robert shouted, "Relax! We've got this under control. Go into the sitting room with the dog."

He glanced back to be met with the hazel eyes of the German Shepherd, "Sally," a name which Booker had no idea why Elizabeth chose, but he didn't argue.

The dog scratched at the door separating his two favorite humans from each other. Booker sighed and he walked towards the room he'd been sent to. "Cmon Sally, let's go wait."

He dropped himself onto the chair. He glanced at the walls of his recently bought home. A house on the outskirts of Paris. A house that he loved. Massive was a understatement. With several liberations of alternate universe's banks, they'd amassed a wealth for the four of them to live in a house that many would dream of.

Seven bedrooms, with two masters. The Lutece's inhabited the one at the first floor, while he and Elizabeth had gotten the one with the better view. His favorite place was the balcony. He could access it whenever he wanted. The master bedroom's perch outlooked over the pool and framed the dusk and dawn perfectly.

Their basement was massive and was good enough to house the physicists laboratory. Elizabeth got the many windows and high ceilings that she so desperately wanted. "I don't want to feel cramped. I've already spent my entire life in a tower, I want something I can run around in."

She'd gotten a study stocked to the brim with books and a massive desk were Booker liked to spend his time hunched over and indulging in one of his new hobbies. Reading. Specifically on woodworking. But, Elizabeth had noticed and sometimes he'd walk over and be greeted by, "A Tale of Two Cities," or, "The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn." Both novels he did secretly adore.

But he'd gotten his wish granted to. An armory. Whether he wanted to or not, guns were a part of him.

He wanted to make sure that they were put on display. Weapons he'd collected over in Columbia. His Carabine he'd used throughout his entire war on Columbia was given a restoration it so desperately needed. It now matched the bronze engraved, Paddywhacker Hand Cannon that he almost always paired it up with.

His head snapped up when he heard Rosalind's voice carry into the room. Sally perked up and bounded over to him, as if to say, "Let's go! Let's go meet the newest member!"

Both of them raced into the spare bedroom, where the Lutece's stood proudly in a corner. On the bed was the always stunning, Elizabeth Dewitt.

Despite being covered in sweat and hair sticking up in different directions, he'd never laid eyes on a more perfect human.

He whispered, "Are you real?" He didn't know he was speaking to the baby girl in her arms, or to Elizabeth herself.

"Real enough." She glanced up to him now, her eyes shining bright. "We did it. We broke the circle."

Booker had to bite his lower lip to stop himself from breaking down. "Yeah. We did."

She handed Anna to Booker, who picked up the baby in his large arms. She let out a small cry. Booker's eyes locked onto her face, "What's wrong?"

"Booker. I… This is something I never thought would happen. When I was in the tower, sometimes, I gave up. I'd be there forever. But, I'm with you, the person I love. In the city I always dreamed of being in. With two people who helped us get here. Now joined by this bundle of joy. I… I don't deserve this."

Booker stared at the woman who saved him countless times before. "Yes, you do. Nobody deserves to be handed that hand you were dealt. I wouldn't let you have a life less than perfect."

She stared into his emerald eyes, gazing into the mind of the most important person in her life.

"I love you."


Now. This doesn't mean I'm going to abandon these two, well five. I will write a sequel, potentially. But I will for sure make several oneshots with these. I don't want to put them through anything worse than they've already suffered.

I hope you enjoyed.

But, I've got a "Good Ending" of what should've happened at the end of Burial At Sea Episode Two. A ending i've dreamed of, and something that will hopefully make you proud.

Uh, more topics. I will remaster all of the chapters, bring them all up to speed, with all errors smoothed out. Just please keep in mind it's just me, who has to balance school with writing. Oneshots will be coming, the BAS one will be called, "Wish Fulfilment" and you'll see that soon. I've been working on the next chapter of Crash Course. So check that story out, it's been getting very good reviews and stuff.

Hmm. Lemons? I guess. Something that will have a small chance of making it in when I remaster the chapters, but it really depends.

Reviews, views, favorites and follows really factor into it. Not saying I only write for those things, it's just lemons are very time consuming and very awkward to write. If you guys would want them, I just want to know that my time isn't wasted.

More Bioshock stuff coming! I'm not leaving!

Go read "Crash Course" too!

Love you all, ~PepoClap