Jack and Sally head off in search of supplies while El gets her fair share of sleep. Jack is still somewhat stunned that she didn't grab the girl and go, or leave them there, or gut them in their sleep, or...or any other number of horrible things she could have done, but...didn't. He chides himself silently for not putting much faith in her—the poor woman just wants a way out of this life, this horrible city, and she's got enough brains left to know that he and Sally are her only hope. He knows he shouldn't put too much trust in her, but after what she's done, she deserves at least a little bit of faith.
This area is mostly deserted, but they find a couple of first aid kids, some EVE hypos, and a satchel to put it all in, so there's that. Sally is adamant about being the one to carry all their stuff, claiming she wants to be useful too, and after he adjusts the straps and makes sure it won't fall off her shoulder, he obliges. They head back to where they'd left El, who is still sleeping soundly, and neither of them wanting to wake her, they settle down and begin the waiting game.
Jack takes the reprieve as an opportunity to patch himself up, using the red health hypo almost immediately upon seeing it in the case. Afterwards, once he's fully refreshed from both his sleep and the first aid, he makes sure Sally's doing alright as well. She, of course, is doing fine herself, being nearly invulnerable and all. He then refills his EVE, testing out his new Old Man Winter Plasmid on a nearby puddle since he hadn't really had a chance to use it since the burst pipe, all the way back in the tram station. The puddle immediately freezes upon contact, cool tendrils of icy mist curling up from the new miniature lake. Sally claps quietly in appreciation, and goes over to test it out. It holds her weight, and she has fun pretending to skate on it until El wakes up of her own accord.
After that, they make sure she's in good enough shape to continue, and together they all head onward, El in the lead as before. Sally tries to make Jack pick her up and carry her, but he sees through her act and after a while begins to ignore her completely. They make their way to the main area they'd originally come in, and make to go underneath the staircase leading out, only to find it's been closed off with a large piece of rubble. Jack is about to protest or perhaps complain when El jumps up, climbing it with ease and disappearing on the other side. He looks at Sally, who shrugs, wondering what he expects her to do.
"Alright, fine, you win. For about five seconds. I'm going to crouch down, and you're going to get on my back. We'll climb over together, but then I'm putting you down. All right?"
"Okay. Will you pick me up again when we find water?"
"Yes. But until then, you can walk. You've got legs."
Sally scrunches up her face, showing her displeasure, and sticks out her tongue at him. He returns the gesture, then drops down to let her on his back. As soon as her arms are tightened around his neck, he sets to work attempting to climb the rubble, taking several missteps and at one point having to start over completely. Sue him, he's never really had to climb rubble before. It was always blast through it or find another way around. Or, you don't need to go in there, so why bother? It doesn't help that the little imp on his back seems to weigh a ton, and keeps making smartass comments under her breath. When he finally reaches the top, he's surprised to find El standing there on the other side, patiently watching him and waiting for them to drop down. There's very little space for him to drop down onto, since on the other side is a two-part staircase and the rubble is right on the lip. He stands on the very top, balancing precariously and as steadily as he can as he removes Sally from his back and brings her around towards the front of his torso, inverting her position. He means to jump down and land safely on both feet next to El, but it doesn't quite happen like that—instead, he prepares to jump, missteps, and falls, right into El's outstretched arms.
"Hello," she says, because apparently she thinks she's funny. She makes a sound that sounds something like a laugh, and Jack is surprised by how almost normal it sounds. Sinister, yes, but almost human. "You want down?"
"Uh, yeah, that would be nice," he admits, already uncomfortable. Her grip on them is strong, but she's surprisingly gentle when she sets them down, patting his head and smiling. "Thanks."
"Again! Again!" Sally scrambles out of his hold, running back to the large pile of rubble—it looks like an overturned case of display shelves, now that he looks at it again. She tries to climb it again, exclaiming, "Let's do it again, I wanna jump!"
"How about no," Jack says, standing up and picking her up, placing her on the first step of the staircase. "We need to get out of here. The bathyspheres are on this side, and I don't intend on climbing that thing again to get you down."
"El will catch Little Bird," the splicer offers, raising her arms again.
Jack shakes his head. "If you two want to stay behind and mess around, fine by me. I'll just be over there, trying to find us all a way out of here even though I didn't have to bring you two along." He turns away from them and starts heading down the stairs, avoiding the river that's flowing down the steps on the right hand side. After a moment, he hears footsteps behind him, but only one set—he turns around, curious, and sees that El has lifted Sally on her shoulders and the treacherous little imp is getting a free ride.
"Kid," he groans, waiting for them to catch up. "You have got to start walking. I know you're scared of the water, and I'm not going to make you walk in it, but it's easily avoidable."
"El wants to give me a ride," she protests, placing her tiny hands on the splicer's bun. It might as well not even be there—there's almost no hair in it. In fact, the simple act of Sally placing her hands on El's head is enough to dislodge what little curls are left, letting the ribbon fall to the floor. Jack steps aside to let them pass him, and picks it up, stuffing it in his pocket for later.
They descend the staircase, coming down to what he assumes used to be the showfloor itself. Enormous replicas of child toys, play sets, hell, even actual building parts and advertisements, as well as many sizable rubble piles, fill the area, transforming it into a maze. Luckily, El knows her way around the dark, and as they pass through Jack can't help but feel like Alice in Wonderland, when she'd drank that potion and she'd become ten inches tall. Was it ten inches? He'd never actually read the book, only false memories of doing so. He puts that on his list of things to do if he ever gets out of this place.
They continue through for what seems like an eternity, nearly stepping into abysses, impaling themselves on pieces of rebar, or just nearly knocking themselves out on hidden gargantuan pieces of the store. After a while, they ascend to the second floor of the store again, via another two-way staircase. This part of the floor is mostly barren, with only an empty display shelf in the middle and another one lined against the back wall. The area opens up to a wider one, which is completely free of any debris. The only way out, or rather, forward, is to the left of them, through yet another large pile of rubble and rebar. El moves towards it first, practically skipping, and Jack experiences a sudden wave of foreboding, the feeling dark and sinister in his stomach. Somehow, someway, things are about to go horribly, horrifically wrong.
"El, wait," he says, stopping the splicer in her tracks. "Er, let me get Sally off your shoulders first. We don't want her catching on any rebar or loose debris. Indescribable she may be, but that doesn't mean it won't hurt."
El looks up at Sally, smiling gently, and tickles the girl's chin. Sally laughs, but something about it is...off. The warning bells in Jack's head increase their volume tenfold when she doesn't protest to being lifted off El's shoulders and forced to walk again. He eyes her cautiously, and she returns the look, coming back to him instead and grabbing his hand. She pulls it with her when she takes shelter behind his legs, something she hasn't done in forever—not since a little after they first met. Something is amiss, and as El continues towards the debris, he's about to ask when she beats him to the punch.
"Something bad is about to happen," she tells him, her double bass voice sounding as urgent as he'd ever heard it. It's quite distressing, actually, hearing something so demonic sound so small. Nevertheless, he fully returns the sentiment.
"You got a premonition, or something?"
"A...what?"
"A feeling," he elaborates, but quickly, as the urgent feeling begins to intensify, almost painfully, and he takes a short, deep breath to try and counteract it. "A bad, bad feeling."
"I have a bad, bad feeling, Jack."
"Is it about El?"
She's almost to the rubble now, and they haven't moved an inch since Sally got off her shoulders. Jack looks at Sally, and Sally looks back at him. Suddenly, she understands, and her golden eyes widen in fear for the first time since they'd met, what seems like an eternity ago. "Uh-oh."
"Uh-oh," Jack repeats, and hoists Sally up on his hip in one move, barely checking to make sure she's secure before moving as fast as he can to rejoin El. His heart is hammering inside his chest, that horrid cocktail of anxiety and dread churning around his stomach and clouding his mind. How does he know something bad is going to happen? He just does. He knows it sounds stupid, superstitious even, but Sally has the exact same feeling, so it's got to be some kind of voodoo, right?
It doesn't matter, they've caught up with her. She's been waiting for them, apparently, smiling serenely, and once they're within three feet she gestures to the rubble calmly. He inspects it with a cursory glance—a titanic, circular disk with spikes decorated across the front. Should be simple enough to move. That's not what worries him, though.
"Right, um. Let's move it, then, shall we?"
"Jack, I don't think that's a good idea," Sally begins to protest, and while internally Jack wholeheartedly agrees, there's not much he can do about it. He steps to the side so that the side of the disk is directly in front of him, and he begins to push with one hand. Of course, he doesn't get very far, only using half his strength and all that, but it's made worse by Sally's protests. "Mister Jack. This is a bad idea. We shouldn't go through. We have to find another way."
"Sal, there is no other way. We have to go through here to get to the bathyspheres. Just a bit further, and then we can go to the surface, and we can find ourselves a nice little house and live away from the rest of the world forever. But we have to go through here first." He lowers his voice, so that only she can hear. "I have the same feeling, kiddo. Something not very nice is about to happen, but we can't do anything to stop it. We just have to hope that whatever it is, it doesn't kill any of us."
"But, Jack—"
"El helps?"
Their inner turmoils are interrupted by the subject of them, El peering at the side of the disk curiously, like it had personally offended her or something. She steps beside Jack, placing both her hands on the side and beginning to push. The disk gives way a bit, but not much.
"El will help," she tells them, pushing a little again. "Ace is right, Little Bird. We have to go. Then Ace and Little Bird and El will be free. Yes?"
"Yes," Jack cuts in for Sally, before she can start protesting again. He gives her a warning look, and she finally relents, shutting her mouth and pulling closer to him. He adjusts her so that she doesn't need as much support from his arms, and uses his full strength to move the disk out of the way with El's help. It only takes about a minute, but that minute is one of the most agonizing of Jack's life, mostly thanks to the now near overwhelming feeling swirling in his stomach. It's so strong, he can't breathe—he's never felt anything like this ever before. He can't stand it. He can only imagine what poor Sally must be going through. Once they move the rubble out of the way, Jack takes a moment to breathe, readjusting Sally so she's no longer in his way, and whispering words of encouragement to her. Neither of them notice El already moving ahead, or her coming to an abrupt and sudden halt as she notices something inside.
"Jack, where's El?"
"I imagine she's already gone up ahead. Come on, we'd best join her." He removes the little girl from his hip, setting her down gently on the ground and allowing her to slip her hand in his. He gives it a small squeeze, trying to smile reassuringly, and Sally almost returns the gesture before the forming smile falls completely off her face to be replaced with a horrified 'O'. Jack whirls around to face the rubble, and immediately finds himself mirroring the expression because, suspended in midair on a piece of rebar sticking through her chest, is El herself.
Well...not exactly. Her clothes are different, torn and bloodied, but still recognizable as high Rapture fashion. Her face, and indeed the rest of her body, is surprisingly well-preserved, bearing none of the translucency, frostbite, or even missing pinky that they both know somewhat well. Her eyes are closed, and her face is covered in bruises and blood from cuts that have never had the chance to heal. Her makeup, thought smudged, is far from messy, in complete contrast to El's own. Jack looks again at the pinky finger, making sure it's the right hand, and that's when he realizes this is either a hallucination or...or something. This woman, whoever she was, bears an exact resemblance to El herself, something the splicer seems to have realized, and Jack realizes with a horror he's never felt before that this is the very bad thing he and Sally had been scared of.
El reaches out for the woman, touching her face gently, smoothing two fingers down her cheek. A tiny spiral of frostbite curls down the woman's cheek, ending in a cluster beneath the left side of her jaw, just like El's. Something in her stance changes then, the way she holds herself, the way she breathes, they way she turns to Jack—when she looks at him, with Sally squeezing the blood out of his hand. The way she looks at them...that's not El.
"Get away from her." Her voice is sure, elegant, and cold as the frostbite covering her fingers. There is no naive curiosity in that gaze, innocent friendliness in those mismatched eyes—no, somehow, someway, those are gone, replaced with the purest malice and the most hateful of glares. Pure rage is in her features, usually reserved for their enemies. Never 'El's friends'. But she's not El anymore, and whoever this new person is, she sure as shit isn't their friend. "Did you hear me? Get the hell away from the girl!"
"El, what—what the hell are you—"
"Shut up and give me the girl. You can't be trusted with her," she interrupts curtly, impatiently. Her speech pattern is...different, he realizes. More elegant, composed. Longer sentences and more surety when speaking.
Jack is momentarily stunned by this new and incredibly dangerous development, and pushes Sally farther behind him, something the girl apparently completely agrees with. This, however, turns out to be a horrible decision, as it serves to only upset her more. She actually growls, and it sounds exactly like her splicer growl, but this time, there is a mind behind the madness. She produces her meathooks from seemingly nowhere, though he's not sure if she actually realizes what she's doing. "El, calm down. This—this isn't you. This isn't right. You're—something's the matter with you, we need to find out what—"
"You absolute bastard!" she screams, effectively shutting him up. Jack takes a step or two back, though they're already a few feet away. "What more do you want from her? Huh? I've got news for you, Comstock—she's. Not. Yours. She is nothing to you, so let her go, or you will regret it."
Wait, what the fuck?
Okay, first things first. Who the hell is Comstock, and why has El—no, not El, someone or something that has somehow taken over El's body—why has El mistaken Jack for him? She'd said to hand over the girl. Jack risks a cursory glance down at Sally, who seems to realize she's in deeper shit than anybody else right now. Give the girl over to the psycho lady he didn't trust in the first place, who's apparently gone even more mental? Not likely. He tries to reason with her again, even though he suspects it will get him nowhere.
"El, please, just calm down—we're your friends, remember?"
"My name is Elizabeth, and we are not friends. I don't care about whatever delusions you've convinced yourself of, whatever fantasy land you've conceived in your own inflated head that has you convinced that I would ever forgive you for everything you've done to me—to that poor girl, Sally—but if I don't have that girl in my arms in the next ten seconds, I won't hesitate to hurt you."
Oh, well. He had been planning to shoot her in the face anyways, hadn't he? He admits, he had been getting somewhat fond of her odd mannerisms, and used to her speech patterns and unusual ways of showing she cared. She had reminded him a lot of Sally, in some ways, actually. That same, preserved innocence, being another of Rapture's endless victims. But he will never hesitate to admit that his first priority is Sally, and he doesn't even entertain the shadow of concern that clouds his mind for a brief second, wondering when that happened. It doesn't matter, not right now. He's getting out of here with that girl. If he has to make a choice between El or Sally, he's choosing the latter, no hesitation. He squeezes Sally's hand behind his back, hoping to reassure her, but he's afraid it doesn't quite come off that way.
"Show me what you've got."
"Wait, no, no!" Sally abruptly pushes past Jack's legs, coming to stand between them before either of them can move another inch. She stays closer to Jack, within grabbing distance, and she gives him a look as she puts her hands up, signaling for them to stop for just a second. "Jack, El—pretty lady—you gotta listen. We're all friends, right? We have to stay together so we can get the bathysphere and go to Lilly-Poppy, remember?"
"Sal, are you seeing what I'm seeing?" he steps closer to the girl, making sure he's in easier reaching distance if things get violent or messy. He realizes this is probably heartbreaking for her, having to watch her only two friends try to kill each other, but really, unless she snaps out of whatever trance has taken ahold of her, there's no other option. This woman is going to take Sally back by force, and if she can't have that, then Jack is certain she'll kill them both. "Kid, El's gone off her fucking rocker. Whoever is inside that meatsuit right now doesn't know who we are, and will kill us if we don't kill her first."
"But she's our friend!"
"I am not your friend!" The thing that used to indeed be their friend screeches, her face twisted in the ugliest form of pure hatred he's seen since Fontaine. Just thinking of that creepy bastard sends chills down his spine, but he digresses. "I am not his friend, Sally. I am his victim. As are you." Her voice suddenly shifts, takes on a new and entirely different tone—softer, delicate, aimed only at the girl. "It's okay now, though. You can—you can come with me, and we'll get out of here together. We'll leave him behind and you'll never have to see him again." She outstretches a hand for the girl, but Sally rightfully recoils, though probably not on purpose.
"Sal, friends don't want to butcher each other, hate to break it to you. Whatever just happened to her is what we had the bad feeling about, remember? She's not El anymore, she's someone else. And that someone else wants us dead, and is not our friend."
"But—we can't just kill her," Sally protests, turning her back to the splicer to look at Jack. Clearly, the thought of murder is still wholly unappealing to her, and while he really can't blame her...
El—Elizabeth, apparently—decides she's had enough, and steps closer to Sally, reaching out again. Sally squeaks in terror and rushes back to Jack, which, again, bad move. El-izabeth's gaze switches intensely to Jack now, eyeing him with the same cat-like gait that El was so fond of. She steps closer, and closer, and Jack backs up with Sally in tow. El-izabeth stops suddenly, and so Jack stops too, wondering what her aim is. After a brief moment of inspecting him, she draws herself up, pulling up her meathooks again. With each sentence of what she says next, she moves closer and closer, and they move farther and farther, until there's no farther to go, and then they're truly fucked.
"You took everything from me, do you know that? I felt everything that every version of me felt. I know what you did to Anna. You're going to do the same to Sally. You will never escape it, Comstock. Exploited. Exploiting. It's like a wheel of blood, spinning round and round. You are going to pay for what you did to us, starting now."
She thrusts out an arm, intending to eviscerate him right then and there, but something...something stops her. She stops just inches from his gut, turning the hook over in her hand and stopping when she sees her pinky. Her right pinky, to be exact, which is almost completely gone save for the nub of bone beneath the final knuckle. She retracts her hook quickly, bringing it up to her face to inspect it closer.
"What...huh? Wait, but my—my pinky…"
She drops the meathook, staring in horror at her missing finger, and bringing her other hand up to touch it. She rubs at the nub of bone, squeezing it tightly between her fingers before she gasps in horror. "What—what's going on, I don't—but the tears—"
Jack tries to back away further with Sally, but remembers that he's backed up all the way to the wall. Nevertheless, he nudges Sally out of her attack path before trying to move himself out of the way too. Surprisingly, it works, but Jack soon realizes that maybe that's not exactly a good thing. El—izabeth is still inspecting her pinky, hyperventilating in shock as she mumbles something about tears and...doors? What crack is she on? This whole situation is honestly bizzare—how had this even happened? Everything had been fine until they'd moved the rubble and El had seen her own dead body. Which begs yet another question: how the hell had El been able to see her own dead body? If that's El, but then this person here is also El...yeah, he doesn't get it. He promises to devote column pages in his brain to the paradox once they're far, far away from her.
"The tears...the doors, I—I can't see any of them. If my finger is gone again, then why can't I—what's happening to me? What's going on? Wait…" She stops, turning to Jack, and his heart freezes, but her eyes sail past him and take in her surroundings for what seems like the first time. She takes in the cracked window, the cold, damp floor, with puddles and rivers caused by the dripping ceiling, the disgusting smell of mildew and the by now nauseating scent of seawater. And she freaks the fuck out.
Jack immediately grabs Sally and pulls her close to him, hoisting the girl on his hip and stepping farther away from El—izabeth as the woman begins screaming, the sound painful and agonizing as she begins looking around frantically for something. "The tears—the tears, I can't see—what—where's the sky? Where's the air, the...clouds? Columbia? I don't—I don't understand, why am I...here? Where is here? Where are the doors, I don't—my pinky…Booker!" She turns to Jack again, franictic, and Jack takes several steps back as she takes several steps forward. "Booker, what's happening? We were—we were on our way to Paris, weren't we? We were going...to Paris…"
"You are utterly out of your mind, sister. I don't know who the fuck Comstock is, or Booker, but my name is Jack. Or Ace. Or whatever the fuck you like to call me. But I am getting the hell away from your insane ass. And the girl is coming with me." He hefts Sally higher on his hip, making sure she's secure as he pulls out his gun again, pointing it in El—izabeth's face. She stumbles back, the confused and terrified expression on her face increasing tenfold as she realizes there's a loaded pistol staring her in the face. "Get the hell away from us."
"But—Booker, wait, it's me, it's Elizabeth—I don't—wait…Comstock? No, you're Comstock—but you were Booker before," she babbles, barely coherent as her broken mind frantically tries to piece together her own story. "I don't understand...it wasn't supposed to happen like this...not like this...I don't understand…" she rambles, clenching and unclenching her hands as she stares at them. She then, unexpectedly, looks at Jack—finally. Her eyes are wide, with confusion and anger and—and something else, something Jack hasn't seen before—he can't place it. "My plan...what happened to my plan? I...it wasn't supposed to end like this…! It's all come undone! It's all come undone!"
"Plan? What plan—no. Forget it, you're clearly talking out of your ass. Listen here, Elizabeth, we are leaving, we are not taking you with us, and if you try to follow or attack me or my Little Sister I will kill you. Is that understood?"
"I—no, it is not! Who are you? Where is Booker? I don't recognize you...I—I don't recognize this place…Comstock. What have you done? What have you done to me?" Oh, fantastic. She's pissed, again. Her face adopts the expression it had worn when she'd first mistaken him for this...person, and her eyes are cold and unforgiving as she straightens her stance, looking him up and down cooly. She's about to say something, threaten him, probably, but he's had enough. He shoves the barrel of his pistol into her forehead, flicking the safety off and returning the gaze.
"You wouldn't," she spits, her voice dripping with poison.
Jack, for a brief moment, decides to play along, adopting the role he thinks this Comstock fellow would play. "Oh, no? Think of what I've done to you, Elizabeth—all the pain, all the suffering I've put you through—and look at me again, look me right in the eye, and tell me that I won't."
She falls silent, staring back at him, perhaps assessing the seriousness of his threat. Her mouth twitches, her eyes roam over him and then the girl, and something in her shifts when she gazes at Sally, but she doesn't move. After an eternity, she makes to speak again, but this time, it's Sally who doesn't let her.
"Leave us alone!" the girl cries, in her demonic voice, and the sound startles both of them. Though the double-edged tone of her voice always masks some part of any emotion she's feeling, but this time, the fear and terror present in her voice are clear as day. "Get out of here, we don't want you!"
"You heard the girl," Jack says after a moment, nudging the pistol into her skull again. "Get out of here." He kicks her discarded meathooks towards her, and after a moment's hesitation she bends down, picking them up. His gun is trained on her the whole time. She takes one final, sorrowful look at the both of them, and then, with something akin to tears in her eyes, she flees, backflipping away and disappearing into the rafters, screaming in agony.
As soon as she's certain the dangerous lunatic is gone, Sally bursts into tears, prompting Jack to forget everything else to try and calm her down. He lowers them both to the ground, moving her to sit on his lap instead as he tries his best to soothe her. She just collapses into his chest, mumbling and crying while Jack uses his best calming voice to try and talk her down. It's a bit difficult, seeing as this is a first for him—a crying child in his lap, with himself being her only source of comfort. A child that he's grown particularly fond of, despite his better judgment, who's just been attacked by the only other semi-sane person they've met down here and someone she considered a friend. He has no experience in comfort, and as he gingerly runs a hand down her back, he tries out his best comforting voice on the girl. He doubts she's ever really been comforted, so he supposes it's a first for both of them.
"Hey hey hey," he says, awkwardly, and Sally immediately stops, her sobs shortening to hiccups and sniffles. 'It's—it's going to be okay, it'll be alright. She's—she's not coming back, and if she does, I'll stop her from hurting you. Hey," he continues, getting a sudden idea. "Do you remember what I told you, when we first met?"
"I remember you said a lot of things, Jack," she mumbles eventually into his shirt. He pulls her closer to him, noting the suspicious lack of wetness on her face. He spares her face a quick glance and sees that while there are no tears, she looks absolutely heartbroken—perhaps the Little Sisters are incapable of producing actual tears? It doesn't matter right now. He pats her on the back again and explains.
"You asked me, when we were in that bathysphere, if I was going to leave you. You told me it'd be a lot easier on me if I did, and you wouldn't mind, but I promised you I wasn't going to. Remember?"
Sally nods after a minute, reciting what he'd said to her almost verbatim, which takes him by slight surprise. He hadn't thought she'd understood anything he'd said. Maybe she still doesn't, but she remembers the words, which is impressive enough. "I listen well, I'm small, and I can get into places you can't. I've been here before, so I know my way around and I can help us get to the bathyspheres. 'You and I are partners now, and you're fairly valuable to me, so I don't plan on getting rid of you anytime soon'."
"Wow. Verbatim. Nice. Uhm, yes. That's exactly what I said, and I meant it. You and I, we're gonna get out of here, and we're leaving this shithole behind. We'll never have to come back if we don't want to, nobody will be able to tell us what to do or who we are. We'll leave and we'll go to Lilly-Poppy—before today is over, you'll finally know what sunshine feels like. I promise, I am not leaving here without you." As he says the words, initially intended to cheer her up, he realizes that he truly means them. He already meant them, of course, before, but now he actually believes what he's saying. Sally must sense it, too, because she perks up a bit, looking up at her friend.
"Sunshine? What's that?"
"It's the sun. You know, that big, yellow ball in the sky? Oh, wait, you've...never seen the—you know what, nevermind. It's up there, on the surface, and it's in the sky and it's really warm. The point is, we're getting out of here, and nobody is going to stop us. Alright?"
"Can you show me the sun if we get out?"
"When, Sal, when. And yes. I'll show you the sun. It'll be right up there, in the sky...first time for both of us, actually..." He's lost in his musings for a few moments, allowing Sally herself a few moments to contemplate what he's just said—or rather, promised. She sticks her hand in his face, sticking out her pinky finger and wiggling it in his face. He has to move her hand away for him to realize what she's doing, and even then he doesn't understand. "Er...what?"
"Pinky promise me, Mister Jack. Come on."
"I…" Hm. Sell out, or retain dignity? Choices, choices. "Alright, fine." He curls his own pinky around hers and squeezes hard. "I pinky promise, we're getting out of this, together or not at all."
"Yay!" Any semblance of sorrow or fear still present on her face is washed away by this new development. "We're going to Lilly-Poppy! Me and Mister Jack!"
"Jack," he corrects.
"Jack!" She jumps up, out of his embrace and begins jumping around. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go!"
They finally pass through the rubble, Sally stopping for a second to look at the other El's dead body before sighing sadly and continuing on. Jack takes a few seconds more to inspect it himself, noting again the pinky finger. He does a double take when he sees that it's cut off, like El's—he wonders if it's a birth defect she was born with, and the ADAM Sally had given her had caused it to grow back. She'd probably thought that cutting it off again would help get her back to normal. He leaves the body when he sees Sally already in an elevator just a bit ahead, joining her and pulling the lever down.
Seeing as Sally is occupied with the ride itself, plopping down cross-legged and giggling as the damn thing shudders and starts, bucking several times on the way down, he takes the brief reprieve to take in and deal with all that had just happened.
They'd all been fine when they'd entered the toy department—El had been a bit loony, but altogether friendly and accommodating. She'd given Sally a ride on her shoulders, watched over them as they slept, and didn't attack them when Sally had accidentally startled her awake. All in all, a good relationship, but as it turns out, also an incredibly fragile one.
Jack and Sally had both had premonitions as soon as they'd neared the rubble. He can't explain it—he just knew something terrible was about to happen, and look at that, it did. Sally had also had a bad feeling about it, and had tried to stop it from happening. They'd both gotten the same feeling, but apparently El hadn't or she would have backed away from the rubble too. It was only when they cleared it out that things had not only taken a turn for the worse, but incredibly bizarre.
Somehow, there is a dead El, back there, impaled on a piece of rebar and dead for who knows how long. Her corpse isn't rotted, but maybe that's just the ADAM in her system. He recalled seeing more than a few corpses in his time here that were perfectly preserved if they had died somewhere without seawater or had been locked away. But that still doesn't answer the question of how there are two El's.
He does briefly entertain the possibility that the dead woman, who is undoubtedly the same woman from the Songbird poster, isn't really El. Perhaps the splicer, at the height of her insanity, had seen the poster, and adopted the identity herself, having none of her own and thinking the woman's pretty features appealed to her. But he discards this notion as soon as he remembers connecting the facial features of the woman and El herself. They were undoubtedly the same person, or identical twins. Twins doesn't seem likely, somehow. He doesn't have anything to disprove it other than a gut feeling, but he figures she wouldn't have reacted so violently if it wasn't herself. But it can't be herself, because she was standing there, alive but incredibly spliced, in front of them, looking at what could only be her own dead body in front of her.
There's another thing to consider here as well, slightly unrelated but still very important: El had changed completely once she saw herself. She'd called him 'Comstock', then 'Booker', then back to 'Comstock', and then she'd switched between the two identities. Not once did she recognize him as himself...but she had recognized Sally. She'd called Sally by name, and tried to coax her into coming to her side. El is the 'pretty lady' that had saved Sally from Atlas, and right then, she seemed to have remembered that, however fractured her version of reality was. But she hadn't called him Atlas, she'd called him Comstock. He wonders if maybe, Comstock is an alias that Fontaine had used once, when she'd known him.
He starts, his heart skipping a few beats as he abruptly realizes that seeing her own body might have shaken her so much that her damaged psyche was effectively pulled back to reality—or at least, a past version of it. A past version of her own reality, maybe the last thing she fully remembered before she became too far gone. Saving Sally from Atlas, or this Comstock, if he is or was another person entirely. In some sort of city, in the sky, if her ramblings are to be believed, which he doubts. El had been insane, no doubt about it, but because she's a splicer—even at that, she still had had basic mind functioning. She might not have been able to entirely tell reality from fiction, but she had had enough sense, barely, to know what was what in reality. This person, on the other hand—this Elizabeth—is somehow even more delirious than El—maybe suddenly having her right mind returned to her, in a completely new body and environment than when she had left, had had a negative effect on her. Clearly.
Whoever this Comstock is, or was, it's painfully obvious that however she knew him in her past life (which she's now convinced she's living), she did not like him one bit. She'd accused Jack of exploiting Sally, promising that he would hurt her just like he'd hurt Elizabeth herself. Once she'd seen her finger, though, she'd gone even deeper down the rabbit hole, forgetting about them and rambling on about doors and tears and fingers. Someone named Booker, who is apparently far different from Comstock—she trusts this Booker, she likes him. Booker is her friend, Comstock is not. Good to know. After she'd noticed Jack again, she'd addressed him as Booker, and when he'd retaliated not very nicely, she'd reacted the same, her version of reality apparently shifting to accommodate the events taking place. Somehow, though, she'd noticed it happening, and confused by her own psychology, blamed it on him, he and Sally stood up for themselves, and she disappeared. He wonders if she'll catch up to them again, or if she's this way for good now. Perhaps she'll revert back to her splicer mindset again, maybe even soon. If she does, and she remembers them, he wonders what she'll think—that they just left her, or maybe an altered retelling of the events that took place. Either way, she probably won't be happy.
If she doesn't remember them, then that's that, he supposes—he's not going to go looking for her again, and she'll live out the rest of her days unhappily and wishing for freedom before being killed by something bigger and stronger than her.
But if she does…
He finds himself surprised to find that he actually hopes she finds them again, if she does. She did it once before, she'll be able to do it again, he's certain of it. If she finds them again with a motive of revenge for seemingly abandoning her, he'll have to devote precious minutes to explaining to her that she left them. Hopefully she buys it, but if she doesn't, then she's getting the bullet. Sorry, Sally, hate to do it, but it's either her or you. If she listens, though, then they're all a happy family again, at least until the next time she freaks out on them again.
"Jack," Sally says suddenly, and Jack himself is brought abruptly back to reality. He worries for a second that he's been talking out loud again, and he gets ready to apologize, but he realizes that the darkness has been replaced by a soft, gentle light. "We're here. We have to go through that air vent, down there, see? I think you can fit through."
"There's no other way?" He steps off the lift, making sure Sally comes with him, and inspects the small area they'd come to for another way out. Unfortunately, she turns out to be right, and the only way to move any kind of forward is the air vent. He crouches down next to it, feeling inside and measuring how big it is by sight alone. "Hm. I think I can fit. Well, I have to, actually, because it doesn't look like there's another way." He takes a deep breath. "Okay. Sally, you go in first, and I'll follow you in a second."
Sally nods, getting on her hands and knees and proceeds to crawl into the vent. Jack watches her, noting that there seems to be a large pile of broken glass directly in front of her—he calls out to Sally, warning her of it, and she manages to avoid it altogether. After she disappears behind the first corner, Jack goes in after her. The air vent is chilly, blasting cold air at them from all sides, and the floor is damp—but they manage to make it all the way through. At least, he thinks, there's more than enough room to move around in here. I hate small spaces. At one point, after going up a ramp of some kind, Sally stops, edging to one side and looking back at Jack.
"There's a lot of water up here," she tells him, pointing. "Big puddles. Not good."
"Not good," he repeats, and Sally gives him a thumbs up. "Okay. Try to avoid them the best you can. It can't be that long until we're through."
She nods, and she continues forward, leading the way and warning him of any upcoming obstacles. Finally, she stops, turning towards Jack and sitting up, pointing out some kind of window. No, not a window, he realizes as he catches up with her and sees where she's pointing. The exit of the air vent. It's a bit of a drop downwards, but they should be fine.
"Alright, Sally, I'm going to go down first, and then I'll catch you when you jump down. Okay?"
"Okay," she says, moving more to the side to allow him to pass her. He very carefully shimmies himself out of the air vent, feet first, and he lands on both of them, thank God. He casts a cursory glance around, noting that he's in some sort of...hallway? He's honestly not quite sure, but plenty of time to explore when Sally's with him. He takes a quick look around for enemies, but seeing none, he reaches his hands up for the Sister. "Sal. Come on out."
A few sounds of tiny hands scraping around on metal later, Sally's feet poke out of the vent, dangling in the air. Jack steps up to the vent again and helps her out, setting her down gently on the soft, carpeted floor.
"Oohh, what's this?" she asks, immediately dropping down on all fours and rubbing the probably very unsanitary carpet. "It feels nice and soft. I like it."
"It's called carpet," he explains, feeling the sudden urge to laugh. Most of the floors they've been walking on have been cold, hard, and damp. He can't feel the carpet himself, unless he touches it with his hands—he's wearing shoes, and it suddenly occurs to him that maybe they should find some shoes for her, too. He hadn't thought to get her any when they'd both gotten new outfits, but if he finds a pair he thinks will fit, he'll snatch them for her. "Don't you think we should get going?"
"Hm? Oh, yeah." She jumps up, grabbing Jack's hand and swinging it back and forth between them. "Let's go. I'm ready."
'That's what I like to hear, Sally. That's what I like to hear."
"Why did you say that twice?"
"No, it's—it's a thing, you—oh, nevermind. Come on, those bathyspheres won't wait forever."