ecember 31st, 1894

They didn't have any traditions when it came to New Year. Their mother used to take them to church to bring in the new year with the lord but Robert had never really liked to do that.

So instead, they sat listening to music in the drawing-room. Elizabeth was bundled in her blanket and Rosalind sat beside her and fidgeted with a pillow.

"This song…" he cleared his throat, "Shouldn't we listen to something happy?"

"Do you have a recommendation?" She asked without looking at him.

"No… But Tchaikovsky certainly has something a little more… upbeat than this," Robert said, "Listening to this is only making you sad."

"I'm not sad," Rosalind countered, "And Elizabeth chose this record."

"Did she?" Robert looked at Elizabeth.

"I did," Elizabeth yawned. Elizabeth liked music and would listen to anything they played but Robert thought that listening to sad music all day would turn her into a sad child.

"I suppose we can get her to sleep after this song is over," he was too restless to sit down with them and he wondered how Rosalind wasn't just as restless as he was. When he looked at her, he could see that she was nervous. She was dangerously close to plucking every single thread from the pillow but besides that, she showed no other signs of how she was feeling.

"We could go to church if you're bored," he joked. Rosalind looked up at him finally but said nothing, "It was a joke." he clarified.

"I know," she did not seem to be in the mood for a joke and he understood why. But just sitting around was making him more and more anxious.

"Elizabeth's hair is getting very long," he changed the subject, "Should we get it cut?"

"No!" Elizabeth shook her head.

"Not yet," Rosalind smiled, "I like it this way." Rosalind did seem to enjoy doing Elizabeth's hair now.

"It's really soft too, softer than hours." Robert said, "Although yours is softer than mine."

"We put too much product in ours." Rosalind said, "I think my hair was once this soft as well."

"Soft," Elizabeth touched her head and nodded in agreement.

"Are you not tired?" Robert bent down beside her, "You should really be asleep."

"Not yet," Elizabeth leaned against Rosalind.

"You seem to think you're the one in charge," Rosalind rolled her eyes, "Robert, where is he?"

"He… Oh!" He cleared his throat, "He'll be here soon. Let's not dwell on that too much."

He knew the reason Rosalind was so nervous and he would be lying if he said it wasn't making him nervous as well. Today was the day that Comstock was going to return to them.

"It's getting late," Rosalind pointed out.

Robert sighed and looked at his watch, "He'll be here," he said. Comstock would be there to use their machine and they had no plans to let him.

"If he doesn't agree…" Rosalind was going through scenarios in her head and he wished she would relax for just a moment.

"He will," he said. He knew it was hard for her to be hopeful but he had thought this plan through and it would not fail.

"What if he doesn't show up before his service?" Rosalind asked. Much like the services they'd attended in their youth, Comstock was also holding a New Year service. It would start at 10 pm and end a little after the clocks struck midnight.

The year before, Robert remembered Comstock coming hours before and spending half the day looking through tears. Now it was nearing 10 pm and he had yet to show his face. He could understand why Rosalind was worrying but, the later he was the better it would be for them.

"He'll be here," Robert said, "His image depends on it, remember?"

"I suppose it does," Rosalind closed her eyes.

"Rosie sleep here?" Elizabeth pulled at Rosalind's sleeve, "Not here."

"I'm not sleeping," Rosalind said, "Stop that please."

"Aren't you tired?" he sat down beside her, "You should have been in bed 2 hours ago."

"I okay," Elizabeth said.

"I'm," Rosalind corrected, "You should say 'I'm okay'."

"Yes," Elizabeth nodded, "Rosie's okay."

"That's not…" she stopped, "She needs formal education."

"2 years old is a little young for that," Robert said, "She's learning well enough on her own isn't she?" He was glad that Rosalind was focused on something else now.

"But I'd like her to speak in full sentences now," Rosalind said.

"She does when she wants to," Although Robert would agree that she hardly ever wanted to.

"She should do it all the time," Rosalind said, "Right, Elizabeth?"

"Hmm," Elizabeth looked over at Rosalind, "No."

"What's the rush?" he asked, "She's growing normally, isn't she?" Elizabeth could understand most of what they said. She also liked to pretend to read when he and Rosalind were busy reading themselves. He knew that she didn't understand anything but the toy shop sold a variety of picture books. He remembered looking through them all to find one that didn't mention 'Father Comstock' and his miracles.

But Elizabeth could count to 7 although she probably just remembered the order of the numbers. She could describe the weather, she could tell him exactly what she wanted most of the time. Wasn't that enough for a 2-year-old?

"How would I know if she's growing normally?" Rosalind asked.

"Compare her to the children you used to watch," he suggested.

"From over 15 years ago?" Rosalind raised an eyebrow, "My memory isn't that great."

"You remembered how to care for babies," he reminded.

"But I never kept track of their development, "She said, "Speaking of development… I think I know why Elizabeth's screaming gives you a headache."

"Besides that fact that it's unbearably loud?" he asked.

"Remember the energy you described? When she cries?" Rosalind said, "It was hard to replicate but I finally managed to. She doesn't do it when she'd actually sad, just when she's angry." Robert remembered the terrible headaches he'd experienced every time Elizabeth threw a tantrum.

"So?"

"Obviously it's connected to her ability to open tears," Rosalind said, "Just like she conjures toys when she's lonely, she releases negative energy when she's angry."

"So in short, there's nothing we can do about it."

"Not now," Rosalind shook her head, "Not until she's older and we can actually talk to her about her abilities. But that's why I took the time to get her used to a schedule. She doesn't throw tantrums like that anymore so we should be fine."

"But why is she able to do that?" Robert asked.

"Because of her finger," Rosalind reminded, "Or the lack of finger. It was left behind when the tear closed."

"Could that really be the cause?"

"It's just a theory, "Rosalind admitted, "But it seems likely that the fact that she technically exists in 2 separate places at once is what's causing this. It's like the universe giving her the ability to go back to the place where her finger was left."

"And she's using that ability to find toy horses," Robert said, "Does it matter that her finger is dead now? It's been over a year?"

"Well, I'm not sure." Rosalind said, "I think it's more of the fact that she was caught in between worlds one time that. Perhaps we could test this

"How?" Robert asked, "By closing a tear on my hand?"

"I didn't say it had to be you," Rosalind said, "But if you'd like to volunteer, I can-"

The bell rang and Rosalind frowned. Elizabeth sat up and looked towards the door, "A friend?" she asked.

This was most likely the moment that they had waited for, "Do you have what we need?" he asked.

"Yes," Rosalind said. She dropped the pillows from the couch onto the floor and Elizabeth looked confused.

"Why…" she narrowed her eyes at Rosalind. She was probably remembering that she was not allowed to drop the pillows onto the floor.

"Don't worry about that," Rosalind hugged her close, "Just sit with me for a moment while Robert gets our… guest."

"A friend?" Elizabeth asked again as she snuggled close to Rosalind.

"No," he shook his head, "It might be better if she's upstairs."

"She'll come right back down," Rosalind said.

She was right, it was becoming harder and harder to leave Elizabeth in one spot. She knew how to escape from her crib now and even though the doorknobs were out of her reach, she still managed to open the doors.

"Fine," he said. He didn't want Elizabeth anywhere near Comstock but he was confident that he could protect her if he needed to.

Robert went to the door but didn't open it immediately. He had to calm down first because Comstock would grow suspicious if he looked too excited.

Comstock rang the doorbell rapidly and Robert finally opened the door, "It's late," he said.

"Is your machine ready?" Comstock pushed by him, "That baby… he keeps crying! Annabelle can't make him stop. They're both crying now and I'm late for everything!" So he was hours late because of his newborn baby. That was just what he deserved.

Comstock stomped into the drawing-room and Robert followed behind him, "The machine, it isn't on?" he asked impatiently.

"Why would it be?" Robert asked, "We were just getting ready for bed."

"Because I need it," he looked at Rosalind, "You know I need it. I come here every New Year's Eve!" He acted as if it was a longstanding tradition. They'd only had the contraption for under 2 years and he'd only ever used it on the New Year's before.

"I'm sure we told you that you could not use our machine if you continued to threaten us," Rosalind said calmly. She sipped the tea and Robert could only think of how cold it probably was now.

"I haven't threatened you," Comstock said.

Technically he had not done anything to them. He left them alone for the holiday just as he said he would but Robert couldn't forget the 40 men lying dead in a field. Nor could he forget the 40 families that were broken now. He thought about Angelica, the young woman who reminded him of Rosalind. Her brother was buried in that field.

"No," Rosalind agreed, "I suppose you haven't. Not directly at least."

"But I imagine mass murder was meant to be a threat to someone, wasn't it?" Robert asked.

"That was a great tragedy," Comstock said, "And I had nothing to do with it."

"I suppose it is just a coincidence that your political enemies all died at once," Robert snorted, "We know what really happened." At least they had an idea of what happened. All they really knew was that he was involved.

"What does any of that matter?" Comstock asked, "It has nothing to do with the 2 of you."

"It matters because those people had families," Robert said, "Are you so afraid of losing that you would kill people before they even have the chance to oppose you?" That should have made him afraid but the fact that Comstock was there asking for their help was enough to make him calm. Comstock still needed them.

"You suddenly care about people other than yourselves?" Comstock asked, "This isn't the first time I've done something like this and it won't be the last. Columbia needs me in charge and I can't let some bleeding heart ruin this city. The next leader of Columbia will be my child."

The silence lingered and Robert took a deep breath. They were getting off track now and they were running out of time.

"The machine should be on. I said I would leave you alone-"

"You actually said that you would let us have our holiday alone and that today would be the last day we had together," Rosalind reminded, "That sounds very threatening to me."

"I'd say your presence here today is also a threat," Robert said.

"What's this really about?" Comstock asked angrily.

"Let's not get so angry," Rosalind stood up and crossed her arms, "We're simply reminding you that you still need us."

Comstock glared at her but Rosalind didn't flinch under his gaze. Instead, she smiled back at him, "Don't you have a service starting soon?"

"I…" he cursed under his breath, "What do you want then? A deal? You want me to leave you and that brat alone?"

"Of course," Robert said, "I don't believe we're asking for much."

"Is she that important to you? You barely know her!" Comstock said.

"She is," Robert said, "We'll allow you to use or machine, but you need to stay away from Elizabeth. If I even think that either of them is in danger, I'm destroying that machine and I'm destroying all the notes needed to keep this city in the sky."

"Your story will fall apart quickly if you try to be a prophet without our machine," Rosalind said, "I wonder what will happen when people stop supporting you. If they elect someone else. You can't kill everyone who goes against you, people will notice eventually."

Comstock looked as if he wanted to punch them. Instead, he looked at the clock once again, he needed to see something before he went to church.

"Fine then," he said quickly, "I'll leave that little bastard alone."

"That didn't really sound believable." Robert said, "Did it?"

"No," Elizabeth said. Comstock scowled down at her and she hid behind her blanket.

"I don't know who that 'little bastard' is," Rosalind said, "We need you to state clearly who you're talking about. Just so that we remain on the same page."

"I won't-"

"Don't forget to state your name," Robert said, "So that it'll be authentic." Comstock sucked in a breath and Robert fought to keep the smile from his face. It was good that Comstock wasted so long before showing up. They wouldn't have to work so hard to convince him.

"I, Zachary Hale Comstock, will not harm or kill Elizabeth Lutece as long as you give me unlimited access to the machine."

"The machine?" Robert asked, "What machine?"

"The machine that opens tears, the ones that shows the future." Comstock was getting impatient, "Turn the machine on before it's too late. I need to be at the church now!"

"The machine that you've been using to lie to the people of Columbia?" Rosalind asked.

"Enough!" Comstock stomped his foot, "Turn the machine on now!"

"I don't know, is it enough?" Robert looked at Rosalind.

"We can't record anymore anyway," Rosalind said, "We've reached our limit." She kicked the pillows aside and bent down to retrieve something from under the couch. Robert smiled as she pulled out a voxophone, "Actually we have 3 more seconds."

She turned off the recording and played it back. The rage melted off of Comstock's face and was replaced with confusion.

"What… what is that?" Comstock's face grew red and his anger returned.

"It's insurance," Robert said, "This entire conversation is recorded on that voxophone."

"2 of them actually," Rosalind said, "Just in case."

"We'll hide them where only we know," Robert said, "And if anything happens to us or Elizabeth,"

"Then all of Columbia will hear that you're a fraud," Rosalind said.

"Do you think that will work?" Comstock asked, "No one would believe you."

"Would you like to test that theory of yours?" She asked.

Comstock could not win this argument. They now had evidence that he killed the missing men, that he wanted Elizabeth dead, and that he was a fraud.

"You have what you need then," Comstock said looked at the clock again, "Show me your machine now. Open a tear." The desperation was clear in his voice. He needed something to tell the congregation and despite how angry he was, he still needed them.

"Pardon us, but we're trying to teach Elizabeth manners," Robert smiled, "Could you say please after all of your requests?"

He was pushing his luck now but he was in control right now. Comstock barely had 20 minutes before his service was due to start.

"I'm still in charge! You 2 will not-"

"That doesn't sound like please," Rosalind interrupted.

"You'll regret this," Comstock said, "One day I won't need you."

"But until then," Robert looked at the clock, "You'll have to be polite. We won't allow you to disrespect us in our home. You can schedule your appointments and you will not come by more than twice a month."

"I agreed to unlimited use," Comstock said, "You're recording proves it!"

"Do you plan to play it back in court?" Robert asked, "We never agreed to give you unlimited use."

"Fine," Comstock said, "Could you... please turn on your machine?"

Robert didn't think such a simple question would bring so much delight but it did. Rosalind gathered the voxophones and they split up to turn on all of the generators. Elizabeth trailed behind him closely, "You don't have to worry about him anymore." he said.

"Bedtime," Elizabeth pointed out, "Now."

"Are you finally tired?" he asked, "Why don't you wait for Rosie in her room?"

"No," she shook her head and continued to follow him.

After the machines were on, Comstock rushed through 6 of them and cursed loudly after he saw nothing that could help him. Robert couldn't help but mention that this wouldn't have happened if he'd arrived earlier.

They opened 6 more tears before he saw something that appeared twice. That was enough for him to be satisfied and he rushed off to the church.

"You know," Rosalind said, "He was a 'prophet' before the contraption was even built. He doesn't actually need it."

"But he's come to depend on it. It makes his job easier." Robert said. Despite the fact that nothing was guaranteed by looking through the tears

"It would help his image if he wasn't claiming visions whenever he has the chance," Rosalind pulled the lever again and another tear opened. Elizabeth watched mesmerized as she looked through it at the night sky, "I'm going to put her to bed now."

Rosalind closed the tear and picked up one of the voxophones, "We should both hide one. Keep the location a secret. I don't want to know where it's hidden."

She didn't seem to want to sit and talk about what had just occurred but that was okay. She could sleep easy tonight knowing that their safety was guaranteed now.

"Get some rest," he suggested, "I'll be back soon."

He lingered for a moment after Rosalind went up the stairs. He wanted to be sure that Comstock was in his church before he went out.

The streets were empty but he still concealed his presence as best as could. Thankfully, the Emporia Towers weren't too far away.

He read the name cards and found the name James Whitman before taking an elevator to the 5th floor. He knew Angelica would not be at the church, not after what Comstock had done.

Robert knocked on the door and waited. The door opened slightly and Angelica looked out, "Mister Lutece?"

"May I come in?" he asked.

Angelica opened the door and let him in. She was confused but she still waited for him to speak first.

"I'd like to ask a favor of you," he said.

"What is it?" she asked quietly. Her eyes were red and puffy and Robert knew that she had been crying. He didn't think it was right for him to interfere with her grieving but he had no choice.

He held up the voxophone, "I need you to hide this for me," he said, "Please don't listen to it. For your own safety."

Angelica took the voxophone from him and frowned as she turned away, "What is it?" she asked. She walked away from him before he gave an answer. Her home was messy and among the boxes, he could see posters for the coming election. "Mister Lutece?" Angelica was standing in front of a large chest.

"Insurance, to protect us against Comstock in the future." Robert said, "He won't bother us or anyone who works for us so long as he doesn't know where that voxophone is."

"Then I suppose I should lock it away," Angelica said. She placed the voxophon inside of the chest and Robert saw a few photographs inside. It seemed that she was trying to hide every reminder of her brother.

"Yes," Robert agreed, "Although if you don't want to be involved-"

"Can you help me move it into the bedroom?" she asked, "It's a little heavy." Robert nodded and moved the chest into her bedroom, "Jimmy's things are in there."

"I see," Robert said quietly. Angelica didn't speak as she placed 3 locks on the chest.

"I know a thing or 2 about keeping secrets," she said. She handed him 2 keys, "No one will be able to unlock it unless we're all in agreement."

"This means a lot," Robert said, "I'm… sorry for what happened."

"He didn't kill everyone involved in the new election," Angelica said, "He'll get what he deserves but please don't concern yourself with it." Robert wanted to ask more about it but he had already been there too long.

"Goodnight, Miss." he said, "Please stop by the labs when you're ready." He couldn't imagine being in her shoes and he wasn't exactly sure how to comfort her. So instead he said his goodbyes and returned home.

He entered the house and sighed as he felt the warm air. Clair de Lune played on the gramophone and the fireplace crackled next to it. It felt more like home than it had in the past month.

"Rosalind?" he called. She didn't respond and he thought that she might have gone to her room. He took off his coat and hung it up before entering the drawing-room.

Rosalind was sitting on the sofa and she was indeed asleep. Robert sat beside her and smiled. She could relax now. They both could.

"It worked," he didn't want to wake her up just yet, "Thank you for trusting me." He knew how worried she had been about the plan. Comstock was a wildcard but he knew they had chosen the right time to do this. He had somewhere to be and if he tried to harm them, he wouldn't get what he wanted and he would miss his service while he tried to hide the evidence.

So they were safe now. He knew that Comstock would not be able to lie if the contents of the tape were released. And as long as he never found out where the tape was, they didn't have to worry.

"Robert," Rosalind opened her eyes, "Stop talking to yourself and go to bed."

"I was talking to you," he rolled his eyes.

"Do you often talk to me when I'm asleep?" she sat up and yawned.

"Only when you fall asleep outside of your room," Robert said, "Shall we go upstairs?" He held out his hand and she took it.

Things would only get better from there.

This was meant to happen by chapter 20 and would have been the end of the first part of the story. Things kind of ran away from me but that's okay. The plot hasn't changed at all. Thank you for reading. :)