Abigail sits alone in the pilot's cabin of the cargo barge, her back to the wall opposite the craft's controls and the empty window that looks out onto the deck. Not that she can see what's out there; the cabin still lacks seats of any kind, Abigail having to sit on the scuffed wooden floor, the young redhead slumped forward with her arms hanging limply at her side. She still clutches the voxophone in her gloved right hand, and it only then occurs to her that she still hasn't let go of the voice recorder ever since she first had it shoved into her arms.
"That… that frettin' lady, givin' me this…" Ever so slowly, Abigail turns to look at the voxophone in her hand. She's still in shock after her encounter with that Mercier woman, among other things, and she's been this way since Vivian pulled her into the elevator and the doors closed.
Her lips draw back as if grimacing, and Abigail squints as her eyes begin to sting, the young Vox fighting to keep the tears back. It's not just the fact that she'd nearly avoided yet another violent end, or that she'd come so close only to be forced into a retreat before reaching the caged Elizabeth that has Abigail on the verge of tears, though.
She'd been full of questions in the elevator, as well as anger and disappointment; it'd taken everything Abigail had to keep from snapping at her friend or punching the ornately designed wall. But once she'd calmed down, Abigail turned her attention to the voxophone that the attendant had thrust into hands. "I… I shouldn't have listened ta' that recordin'… not till I was alone at least…"
In her impatience and frustration, Abigail had pressed the playback button on the voxophone without a moment's hesitation, heedless of Vivian's presence in the ascending elevator car. Had she been thinking straight, Abigail would have waited until she had returned to her quarters in the factory or taken the barge into the clouds on her own before playing it; but the words of the middle-aged woman who serves as Elizabeth's caretaker harried her thoughts, and Abigail simply had to know what she meant.
"Now… now I wish I never found out…" Pulling her splayed out legs close to her chest while still slumped up, Abigail manages to lift her arms and rest them on her knees, despite her whole body feeling numb.
The recording on the voxophone was from the same, now deceased doctor as the last, and Abigail could only grimace as she felt Vivian's gaze on her; the voxophone quite readily revealed to her friend just who it was that Abigail sought in the asylum, but Vivian had the sense to keep quiet as the recorded voice filled the confines of the elevator car. And Abigail hadn't been in much shape to answer her questions once it had run its course.
"Fell on my ass once it finished playin'… like a weak-kneed little lass…" Groaning quietly, Abigail rests her forehead on her left arm, the limb resting atop both knees while the right holds the voxophone away from her. As if it could do her any more harm now.
Abigail had practically collapsed once she'd finished listening to the voxophone, all the nerve-wracking tension, spine-tingling fear and the remnants of the lump of anxiety in the pit of her stomach coming to a head all at once. She could hardly believe what she had just heard at the time, and even now, Abigail just can't reconcile what was said then with reality. It'd taken all the fight out of her, and she just feels… empty.
"Thank God Viv was there ta' help…" A rueful smile tugs at Abigail's lips, despite the tears that had threated to escape. Vivian had helped her out of the elevator when it deposited them back in the living quarters of the Prophet, she barely aware of her surroundings at that point; it wasn't until she was safely back on the barge that she regained awareness of her situation, and Abigail had forced her way to the cabin and steered the craft away from Comstock House before what little strength she had left abandoned her.
Vivian and the rest of her squad had wanted answers, but Abigail had managed a glare to shut them the hell up, and they left her to brood in peace as the cargo barge continued into the clouds on its own power. Even Vivian, though she had stopped at the cabin's door to give Abigail a worried look.
"I'll… I'll have ta' make this up ta' Viv latter… going' ta' be a lotta explainin' ta do…" A frown touches Abigail's lips; Vivian could be telling the whole squad what she'd heard in the elevator, and that'll make things even worse. There's still plenty of resentment and anger over what happened to Daisy, even if this Elizabeth's hands are clean.
Lifting her head from her arm, Abigail stares at the voxophone with a mixture of sorrow and trepidation, her gloved hand still gripping the handle portion of the sound capturing device. Maybe she missed something the first time around, some mention of a possibility that eluded her; that thought gives Abigail a touch of hope, the young redhead bringing the voxophone close once more and hesitantly reaching for the playback button.
The voxophone comes to life the moment Abigail touches the black button, and she grits her teeth as the voice of the same doctor from before fills the cargo barge's cabin. The redheaded girl rests against the back wall of the cabin and closes her eyes as the voxophone plays, bracing herself for what's to come.
"Dr. Pettifog… the four… fourteenth of July, 1912… it has been a week since my last recording, and several hours since our latest round of… treatment. The Lamb… er, the specimen had been starting to show progress as of late, her resistance to the procedure growing weaker and weaker with every session; she still screams, but at least the begging has come to an end."
"Bastard…" Cursing, Abigail tightens her grip on the voxophone as the doctor's voice pauses after clinically describing Elizabeth's suffering. She'd done much the same in the elevator, Vivian looking at her in surprise at the merest mention of the Lamb.
"But… that may have simply been a ruse. When we came for her today, the specimen seemed calm, almost… docile, resigned. When my colleague, Dr. Powell, promised the sessions should come to an end soon if she continued to improve, the specimen had shaken her head and whispered, 'they will end… sooner than you might think.' She'd barely acknowledged the restraints when we secured her to the chair, and completely ignored the Prophet when he'd stepped into the observation room overhead. And there was no screaming… no screaming at all when we began, the Lamb simply gritting her teeth and screwing her eyes shut."
The doctor's voice grows shakier as he goes on, and he falls silent once again as he mentions Elizabeth's reaction to the 'treatment'. Abigail has to fight back a sob; she can only try to imagine the suffering Comstock's doctors inflicted on the already tortured Elizabeth, but what's sure to come next shook her to the core when last she heard it. And the redhead bites her lip to keep from stopping the voxophone before it continues.
"At first, we thought the specimen was simply bearing the pain. What fools we were; she was in fact fighting the treatment and preparing herself for the shocks we were sure to administer. The Lamb… forced her way through all of our precautions and managed to… alter the state of things. The pain must have been excruciating… uh… a thunderstorm appeared in the operating theater, centered directly above the specimen. A bolt struck Dr. Powell, and while his wounds are not severe, he will need a couple days to recover, and the Prophet may have been wounded or killed if not for the protective glass of the observation room."
The sound of the doctor taking a breath before continuing draws another grimace across Abigail's face; it's just about time. "But… the majority of the lightning bolts struck the chair the Lamb was secured to and the generator she was attached to, and that… that's when we realized her earlier meaning; she meant to end it, herself. The… spinal tap carried the current into her body… I can still see her spasming in the chair…"
"Doctor. How is my daughter?"
A new voice breaks into the doctor's hesitant retelling, and Abigail growls even as she wipes a hint of tears from her eyes. "Comstock…" The Prophet's voice is quiet, almost sounding concerned.
"Oh, Prophet… the Lamb is recovering, but shows no signs of waking. We managed to get her heart beating again, and as far as we can tell she's healthy… but she shows no reaction to the Siphon we've been using. We aren't sure what is wrong, but…"
"Continue to refine your procedure, doctor; she shall wake. And if not, perhaps there will be another whom your expertise can be applied to." Footsteps sound from the voxophone, and Abigail isn't surprised to find the needle reaching the center of the record; this is a long recording for a voxophone.
"Of course, Prophet… um, in closing… the Lamb is unconscious, and while she reacts to some stimuli, she shows no signs of regaining consciousness or of feeling the effects of the Siphon. Whatever damage the attempt to end her life caused is beyond us… Dr. Pettifog, signing off…"
The voxophone falls from Abigail's fingers as the doctor's voice disappears, clattering on the worn wooden floorboards of the cabin. And Abigail only lets her arm fall to her side again, her gloved hand resting palm up on the floor; she doesn't move, doesn't think, and barely even breathes as the doctor's words sink in for a second time. All she can do is stare at that damn voxophone.
"Six months… or nearly…" Mumbling to herself after a good while has passed, Abigail can only shudder as she tries to imagine the hell that would have driven this Elizabeth to try and end it all. She never had a Booker to believe in, nor did she have the… limited experience Booker's Elizabeth had to toughen her up. And Comstock would have started the torture up again should she have woken.
"That son of a bitch!" Kicking the voxophone as numbness and despair turns to fury, Abigail damn near screams as she lashes out, the recording device sliding across the cabin's well-worn floorboards to slam into the wall on the far side of the room.
"Abby!?"
Vivian's at the door a moment later, Wei and Mattie appearing at the window a few seconds after the former Columbian corporal. Abigail grimaces as she bites back another curse and rubs her eyes, the young woman not surprised in the least to feel something warm and wet beneath her ungloved fingers.
"Abby, are you okay?" Vivian offers Abigail her hand, but the distraught redhead waves it away, slowly climbing to her feet on her own.
"Viv… did you…?" But Vivian just shakes her head, though her eyes still show plenty of confusion and no small measure of worry. "Thanks, Viv…" Managing a smile, Abigail slips past Vivian Monroe and steps out of the cabin, the cool December air on her face invigorating and breathing new life into her tired body.
"Abigail, what were you looking for in there?" Wei speaks up once Abigail's out the door, the medic standing by the window with his arms crossed.
"I was lookin'…" Abigail pauses as 'Yu' and Sean step up to join the rest of the squad, "… lookin' for a friend of mine…"
"Ya' said that already, boss." Sean smoothes back his unruly brown hair, looking a touch annoyed, "What were we really doin' there?"
"I… I can't…"
"Why… gah!" Sean's angry demand is cut short, 'Yu' clamping a hand on his shoulder and digging a thumb into the boy's collarbone. That draws a wince from everyone else, Abigail included.
"Let her speak." He only says three words, but Sean nods frantically as he squirms out of 'Yu's' grasp.
"Thanks… it would've been a lot easier ta' explain, if I got her out…" Abigail's heart sinks; despite the interruption, her squad mates all seem intent on getting answers. How is she going to explain there being a second Lamb?
"Wait… Abigail, look…." A hand on her arm precedes Mattie's quiet voice, Abigail following the younger girl's gaze as the rest of the squad does the same. And Abigail's eyes go wide with surprise; before them is Monument Tower, or what's left of it, the Hand of the Prophet hanging in the sky above them.
"I never meant ta' take us here…" Her voice is but a whisper; Abigail chose a random heading to get away from Comstock House, her thoughts in too much turmoil to pick out a proper course. But an idea crosses her mind, and Abigail manages to chuckle, "We're goin' up there."
The rest of the squad snaps around to look at her as if she were daft, even the ever serious 'Yu'. "Huh?" He can stammer all of one word as Abigail steps back into the cabin.
"Oh my God…"
Vivian's hushed gasp is echoed by Sean, 'Yu', Wei and Mattie simply staring in awe as Abigail only nods. The six of them stand on a field of green grass aboard Father Comstock's flagship, a stained glass display of Elizabeth with children looking down on them. "How…" Mattie looks up to Abigail, "How did you know?"
"Looks like I got a little prophet in me, too… but it ends here…" Abigail smiles grimly; she'd told everyone that the soldiers on the Hand of the Prophet were all dead or routed, and that the Prophet himself had been killed by the False Shepherd and the Lamb. And now, here they stand, staring at the corpse of the Zachary Comstock.
The Prophet's white hair on the back of his head is stained with red, blood from a nasty looking wound there, but that isn't what killed him; Comstock is face down in a baptismal font, the Prophet's feet barely touching the floor as his upper body seems partially supported by the standing basin. And while the Prophet's death has been a longstanding goal for each and every member of the Vox Populi, everyone seems in awe now that he's dead.
But not Abigail. The memories she'd borrowed from Booker had shown her this, and in a way, Abigail's still alive because of this memory in particular; Mercier most certainly would have killed her if she hadn't told her of Comstock's impending death.
"But now I'm on my own…" Thinking to herself, Abigail breathes a quiet sigh; the memories after Booker and Elizabeth escape Comstock House become less and less clear as they approach the end, and stop altogether once Monument Tower and the Siphon within is destroyed. Now, the memories are only that; memories, not glimpses of a future and a story she shouldn't know.
But as she stares at the Prophet's body and her squad begins to murmur, Abigail doesn't feel any satisfaction. Instead, anger swirls up from within, coursing and bubbling through her veins: anger for her family, torn apart by Fink; anger for Elizabeth, suffering for six months at her 'father's' hands; and anger for the other Elizabeth, alone and abandoned by Comstock when she could take no more.
"So… is it over?" Sean's voice intrudes on Abigail's thoughts, and she blinks as she finds her teeth clenched and her hands balled up into fists.
"No." 'Yu' shakes his head.
"He's right…" Vivian's shuddering voice follows 'Yu's', "It's not over just because the Prophet is dead."
"The Founders are still comin' for us." Turning to Sean, Abigail manages a small, lopsided grin, "This is goin' ta' hurt 'em, but the war's nowhere near done."
Turning her gaze back to Comstock as the rest of the squad talk among themselves, Abigail can't help but think back on the lives lost because of this… twisted mirror of the man she met; it still hurts her head to think that Comstock and Booker started as the same man.
"They're all gone now…" Whispering so as to go unheard, Abigail takes a step towards the body of the Prophet, "Three Bookers an' two Elizabeth's came an' went… all except her, of course…" She'd never met the Booker who became a martyr for the Vox Populi, but she's sure he would've been little different from the Booker that just escaped Columbia with Elizabeth. "Escape… I guess that's a word for it…"
But then Abigail realizes something; shouldn't everything be gone? Elizabeth's going to erase this world, any world with a Columbia. Has it just not happened yet, or did it already happen?"
Looking around slowly, wondering if everything she'd fought for and the girl she's been searching for is about to disappear, Abigail can't help a feeling of helplessness and regret; the thought of disappearing without a trace scares the young redhead, and Abigail is glad her back is to her squad. "If only I'd gotten ta' her sooner… the Luteces coulda taken her somewhere safe…" Abigail looks up at the image of Elizabeth in the stained glass, waiting for whatever may be.
But nothing happens, and Abigail feels a tug on her sleeve after a minute or two. "Abby, you listening?"
"Huh? Uh, no… what do ya' need, Viv?"
"What do you want us to do now, Abigail?" Sean pipes up, the kid brushing the hair from his eyes again.
"Umm… there should be some supplies in the next room…" Abigail looks around the room again; whatever was going to happen should have happened by now, shouldn't it? Shaking her head, Abigail breathes a quiet sigh as she thinks to herself, "This business makes my head spin…" The thought reminds her of a similar line that Booker said, drawing a lopsided grin for a moment.
Lingering in the garden as the rest of her squad goes in search of supplies, Abigail turns only to find Vivian still standing there. "Abby… are you looking for the Lamb?"
"… yes, Viv."
"But she killed Daisy…" Vivian keeps her voice low, but there's a touch of desperation in her tone; a need to understand Abigail's reasons. "I know what you said, but… even if it was to end Comstock…"
"No… that was another Lamb… Vivian, it's hard ta' explain, but…" Shaking her head, Abigail looks up at the stained glass again, "Ya' remember Booker DeWitt, how another was with the Lamb? Daisy said they were imposters, but… another appeared. Three Bookers came ta' Columbia." Though two were one and the same, she adds silently.
"So… you're saying that you're looking for this other Lamb? That's… that's crazy, Abby. Why?"
"Crazy… a flyin' city, a giant flyin' bird creature, Vigors… Viv, Columbia's crazy." Smiling back at Vivian, Abigail takes a step closer to her friend. Vivian doesn't shy away, and Abigail continues softly, "This Elizabeth… she doesn't deserve ta' be caged any longer. I'm goin' ta' get her out of there… somehow…"
"I…" Vivian hesitates as she stares back at Abigail, the former Columbian soldier nodding slowly once the moment passes, "I guess you're right… but how? You can't just waltz in and out of there like the wind. Comstock House… even though he's dead…" She nods towards Comstock's corpse.
"I'll figure somethin' out…" Shrugging, Abigail smiles back at her friend, Vivian returning the grin with one of her own.
"Abigail! Slim pickings, but we found ourselves some ammo and Salts!" Wei's shout draws both Abigail's and Vivian's attention, the redhead shaking her head slowly.
"Just grab what ya' can, we're getting' outta here, right now!"
"Huh?" Wei and Sean appear in the doorway, both looking confused as the latter speaks up, "Why?"
"Cause the Founders are bound ta' come an' retrieve their flagship." Abigail makes for the stairs, chuckling at the brown-haired kid's expression of dismay, "An' unless ya' fancy the idea of takin' on their army by ourselves, get goin'!"
Hurrying up the stairs with Vivian close behind her and the rest of the squad making to follow, Abigail's smile turns grim as her own words sink in; this war is far from over, and it can only get worse in the wake of Booker and Elizabeth. "An' that don't account for a monster like Mercier runnin' around…" The thought draws a grimace across Abigail's features; she has to get stronger for the next time they meet. And Abigail can't imagine that the woman from Rapture is going to leave just because Comstock is dead.
The door to Abigail's own living quarters swings inward sluggishly, the exhausted redhead trudging inside wearily after a moment. Night had fallen a couple hours ago, and while Abigail had wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed after returning to the factory, other matters required her attention.
"Even after makin' a damn fool of himself, Downs' got a way of makin' my life miserable…" The attack Downs had orchestrated on the Hand of the Prophet had gone just as badly as she knew it would, yet somehow the blowhard had managed to survive. Still, over half of the soldier's loyal to him didn't, and Downs' position within the Vox Populi has taken a major blow as a result. Unfortunately, that left Abigail and her people in an unenviable position, all the other factions and leaders looking at them as the single largest faction remaining within the Vox Populi. And by extension, Abigail is the leader of the most powerful faction.
"Dammit, I just want my sleep!" Unslinging the sword and sheathe from her back and removing her Hand Cannon and holster from her belt, Abigail drops both by the side of her bed before collapsing onto the modestly comfortable mattress. It's no luxurious bed like in Comstock's quarters or in Emporia, but it's hers.
"It seems we've come at a bad time." Abigail opens her eyes slowly as the voice of Rosalind Lutece fills her ears.
"Perhaps we should return another time." Rolling over, Abigail peers through the darkness of her room at the Lutece twins, both giving her a slight bow of the head as Robert Lutece retorts and flips on the light switch. A curse comes unbidden to her lips as light floods the room, Abigail wincing at the brightness.
"What do ya' want?" Lying on her side, Abigail makes no effort or rise or be especially welcoming; she's had too much of a bad day, and it'd be a surprise to the redhead if she could muster the energy for either.
"We want very little. But…" Robert quips.
"You do. Now that you know the truth of the matter, what is it you wish to do?" Rosalind finishes her brother's sentence.
"I want ta' sleep. But I don't suppose that's goin' ta' happen…" Rolling onto her back, Abigail groans as she somehow manages to force herself up into a sitting position.
"Perhaps. But we do not mean at the present." An amused look crosses Robert's face, and Abigail just scowls at him.
"But in the near future. Is it your intention to tell the girl and her father of your discovery?" Continuing her brother's statement, Rosalind does not look at all amused.
"The girl… ya' mean Booker an' Elizabeth?"
"Precisely." Both Robert and Rosalind answer in unison, drawing a sigh from Abigail as she rubs her temples.
"No… no, I don't. It'd be one thing if I found her healthy, an' got her out… but this?" The mere mention of the still caged Elizabeth causes Abigail's heart to sink once more, "It'd be cruel… an' I don't want ta' give those two a reason ta' come back here…"
"It would seem I win this round, brother." Rosalind glances up at Robert for a moment before returning her attention to Abigail.
"It would at that, dear sister." Shrugging, Robert focuses his attention on Abigail as well, after a moment, "Then may I ask what it is you intend to do, Miss Abigail?"
"I'm goin' ta' get her outta there. I don't know how, or when… but I'll figure somethin'." Shaking her head, Abigail decides against asking what game the twins are playing. "But… I do have somethin' I'd like ta' give ya'."
Leaning over and reaching for the heavy suitcase resting beside her bed, Abigail carefully rests it flat on the floor while still lying on the mattress, not wanting to risk trusting her legs right now. Opening it just as carefully, Abigail retrieves two objects after staring at the contents in silence for a few seconds, "I think she'll like these…"
"Oh?" Robert and Rosalind step closer as Abigail sits upright and holds up the violin with bow and the packets of seeds she'd retrieved from the now destroyed Monument Tower, the redhead now seated on the edge of her bed. Each takes one of the gifts, Rosalind glancing at the seeds for a moment before asking, "I take it these aren't for us."
"Heh. For Elizabeth. Birthday, Christmas… whenever ya' think it best, give these ta' her…"
"Very well." Robert nods, the violin and bow in hand, "And for you? Perhaps there is something we can do for you?"
"Ah…" Hesitantly, Abigail falls silent for a moment as the twins look on, "Ya' could… let me see 'em once in a while…"
"Very well, if that will do." Rosalind nods, "But would you perhaps rather have the chance to visit them?"
"Visit?" Blinking, Abigail stares up at the twins in surprise; the thought of actually seeing Booker again and meeting Elizabeth properly never seemed like a possibility to her. But even as she mulls over the Luteces' offer, Abigail slowly shakes her head, "No… I can't. I said I don't want ta' give 'em a reason ta' come back ta' Columbia… besides, I can't just up an' abandon everyone…"
"If that is your decision." Nodding, Robert steps back slowly, Rosalind doing the same, "Then we shall be off. Just keep in mind; the offer stands." The twins are already gone by the time Abigail looks up to thank them, the exhausted redhead shaking her head before lying back down to sleep.
Author's Note: So... that's what happened to the Elizabeth from the final reality. I don't mean to get anyone down with such a dark outcome, but I couldn't imagine anything good happening to this Elizabeth for her to be completely overlooked, and there were a couple other options that I had considered that were decidedly worse. Of course, that doesn't mean Abigail isn't going to stop trying to break her out of the asylum.
Now that the events of Infinite have come and gone, and Columbia still exists, what do you think is going to happen now that both the Vox and Founders have lost their leaders? How bad off do you think Elizabeth is? And how long do you think it'll be before Abigail tries again?
As usual, I'll look over the chapter at a later date, but I think I've caught most of the glaring errors and inconsistencies. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter.