"Apologies, but I must part company with you for the time being. I shall return shortly." With that, Rosalind Lutece disappears, leaving Abigail alone in the dark room.

"Just like that?" Shaking her head, Abigail heaves a sigh as she sinks back down onto the bed. Each new piece she learns of Booker and Elizabeth's increasingly tragic story only serves to draw her ever deeper, and Abigail hangs her head as she contemplates the latest that Rosalind had decided to leave her with.

"Six months…" Shuddering as she tries to imagine the hell Elizabeth must be suffering through; the stories of the Founders' 'routine' interrogation techniques are well known to the Vox Populi, but Comstock and his scientists probably aren't looking for answers. "More like they're meanin' ta' break the girl…" It's only small comfort that Abigail's seen Elizabeth safe and sound.

But even as she grimaces at the knowledge of this Elizabeth's situation, a wave of fatigue courses through Abigail; even after a good night's rest, she's still plenty tired after her own ordeal.

"Once she'd gotten clear of Columbia, Elizabeth must have slept for three days straight… Booker too…" Muttering softly to herself as she lies back down on the makeshift bed, Abigail yawns into the pillow, "Better not be any nightmares waitin' for me about this…"

Even as she mutters the last, her eyes are already closing of their own volition, a haze settling over her thoughts. As darkness takes her, Abigail's last thought before succumbing to sleep's embrace is of those two again, and she wonders why she cares so.

"Booker… you there?"

Abigail's eyes snap open as a distinct, all too familiar voice fills her ears, though it's a voice she's only heard a few times in person. "Elizabeth…? No… not this…" Abigail groans wearily, realizing what she's witnessing; Booker's nightmare, Elizabeth's story as he'd witnessed it, the memories of his that she'd somehow come to possess awakening in her slumber, "Why now? I just want ta' sleep…"

Watching as Elizabeth makes her way through Fink's private quarters and beyond, Abigail feels a grin coming on as she realizes it was indeed Elizabeth who'd knocked out each and every one of her comrades in that wing of Fink's factory. "That Plasmid looks… interestin'…" Muttering to herself quietly as she watches Elizabeth knocks out yet another Vox soldier while invisible, and Abigail's grin widens as she shakes her head; the girl's got spunk. "She's a DeWitt alright…"

But then the scene disappears as Elizabeth climbs out of an air vent and watches a recording of herself as a child and Songbird. The scene that materializes before her leaves Abigail unnerved, and she has to grit her teeth as she relives a particular moment; the vision is of Booker's time in the factory, just after she'd shot him. Seeing herself clad in that hateful mask, hearing her own voice scream after Booker as he runs, Abigail finds herself in a cold sweat, and it takes her until Booker bursts into the abandoned lab to realize it's both Booker's pain and her anxiety that's gripping her.

Vision after vision and scene after scene assaults Abigail's mind, coming faster and faster till nearly a blur. Bits and pieces of Booker's journey through Columbia become more coherent, and Abigail experiences everything he did in these snippets, including his feelings towards Elizabeth. The entirety of Booker's time in Rapture appear next, up until the two of them jumped through the Tear to escape the Vox Populi and return to the underwater city.

And then Abigail witnesses Elizabeth's journey. Not all of it, the majority a blur of monsters and darkness, but it becomes crystal clear at the very end. The anguish Booker felt as he watched Elizabeth pass away hits Abigail like a train, and she'd fall to the floor and sob if only she were able to.

The visions fade as she suffers, and she finds herself in a strange apartment somewhere far removed from Columbia. The place feels familiar to Abigail, warm and comforting, as if she's known this place for many a year. She sits on a sofa before a television, the newscaster describing something or other that'd happened on the New Year, while a radio nearby plays a sorrowful song. After a moment, Abigail's eyes grow wide as she recognizes the song; the song is Elizabeth's, the song she could only partially make out before. But even as the song plays, she's not comfortable; something has her on edge, yet what is she doesn't know. The tension only grows as a sound of a door opening comes from somewhere nearby, and a man appears beside her. Her son.

"Wait, what?" Abigail's stares in shock at the man her mind registers as her eldest son, her mind reeling as he helps her to her feet. It's only then that she notices her hand; it's worn and wrinkled, and Abigail finally realizes what this is. "The other me…" Something warm and wet touches her upper lip, but she finds she can't move to touch it.

Outside, the rest of her family's waiting, and they all make for the exit once she's joined them. Looking around, Abigail recognizes 'her' youngest son, daughter-in-law, and granddaughter, though she can't remember their names for the life of her. "Must be going senile… this isn't my-whoa!"

The next thing she knows, she's on the floor and in great pain; an explosion rocked the building, and she couldn't keep her feet. But the explosion did more than knock an old woman to the ground. The ceiling's collapsing, and she's already pinned beneath the rubble.

"No…" Abigail whispers as she watches herself wave her family away, to get out before the whole building comes down. It's agonizing, watching her family struggle to dig her free, only to fail. The last she sees as the rubble buries her is the red hair of her five year old granddaughter, running with her mother and daughter to safety. As darkness envelops her, she feels a name on the tip of her tongue, and Abigail closes her eyes as she whispers, "Goodbye, Rose…"

"…bigail? Abigail!"

Abigail jerks awake, the intensity of the memory laden dream leaving her shaking and in a panic. But it's more than just that; her other self's final moments seem etched in her mind, and Abigail sees that collapsing building again whenever she closes her eyes.

"Calm down, Abigail. Can you hear me?" Looking up, Abigail finds the Chinaman she'd left Vivian with standing at her bedside, the young man's voice remarkably free of accent and he looking quite concerned.

"Y-yeah…" Fresh warmth touches her lip again, and Abigail finds her fingers coming away bloody. The blood runs along the sides of her face and down her mouth, and Abigail finds quite a bit is dried on her skin. "I must look a fright…"

"You've been bleeding profusely from the nose for a while now. Never seen anything like it, thought I'd need to get you a transfusion at this rate."

"It… it's nothing…" Shaking her head, Abigail pushes herself from the bed; no way can she tell the medic she's suffering from Tear sickness, or explain what that even means. Wiping what she can of the blood from her nose and face, Abigail turns to the young man, "What're ya' doin' in here, anyway?"

"Came to tell you Vivian's doing fine, and she'd regained consciousness not too long ago. And to check on your wound, while I'm at it."

"Oh… oh! That's fantastic!" She'd hug the man if she wasn't in such a state, but settles for shaking his hand instead. Taking a breath to calm herself, Abigail still can't keep a grin off her face as she thanks the medic again, "Thank you so much! I'll come see her soon… and I'm doing fine, it's not bleeding anymore." She touches a finger to the bandage running down the right side of her face, and the medic heads for the door with but a nod. But once he's gone, the smile fades, and she turns to gaze at the blood staining the bed sheets where her head had been. This latest bout with the memories had been nearly as terrible as the first, and experiencing the death of her other self still has her shaking.

"You seem to have had a rather upsetting experience." Abigail damn near screams in surprise at the voice, and she whirls about only to find Rosalind Lutece standing there. "Perhaps you'd like to postpone this proposed venture of yours?"

"No! No…" Shaking her head, Abigail takes another breath before continuing, "Just let me get cleaned up first… I'm still wantin' ta' talk with this… other Elizabeth." Finding a rag, Abigail starts wiping the dried blood from her face; she scarcely wants to meet this elderly Elizabeth with blood smeared on her features.

"Hell's bells! It's cold!"

Stepping out of the Tear half an hour later, Abigail can only shout in surprise at the snow and cold winds that greet her. "I know its December, but… where's the damn roof?!" She's still more than a little disturbed by her recent spat with the memories, but Abigail's here for a reason, Tear sickness be damned.

She stands in a hallway of sorts, snow blocking the doors along the wall before her and the floor collapsed in some places. "But it's definitely Columbia…" The pillars and angel statues lining the walls are definitely Columbian architecture, and she can make out the central tower of Comstock House overhead through the broken roof. The sound of gunfire echoes from somewhere deeper within the building, Abigail jumping at the sound.

"And who are you?"

Turning about slowly, Abigail finds herself staring up at a woman cloaked in shadows, standing above her in a doorway beyond which there appears to be nothing. There isn't a trace of emotion in the woman's voice, nothing like the young woman Abigail had seen in the memories and with her own eyes, "Are you… Elizabeth?"

"Yes… how is it that you aren't familiar with me? All in Columbia…" The woman leans forward, the light from the blasted out roof finally illuminating her worn features. Despite the tired, wrinkled face that greets Abigail, the eyes are the same as ever; it is Elizabeth, in the flesh. "You wear the colors of the Vox Populi. I'll never forget them. I thought I wiped out your kind long ago, how is it you come to stand before me?"

"A Tear. I came ta' ask why ya' let the younger you suffer for months? Why don't ya' send Booker back ta' when he was taken?" Taking a step back so she doesn't have to crane her neck as much, Abigail lets it all out at once, her recent surge of memories still leaving her a little blunt and frayed around the edges.

"… how do you know about that? About Booker…?"

"Because I met him. Because Lutece. And because," tapping her temple with a finger, Abigail grins mirthlessly up at the older Elizabeth, "I have some of his memories in my head, somethin' he left me with after we fell through a Tear." Staring up at Elizabeth, Abigail finds the cold doesn't bother her so much anymore; imagining what this woman must have suffered through, anger wells up within her as she does so. "I know some of what's ta' come. I know that the two of 'em will put an end ta' Comstock, and I know they have ta' part. I know Booker's comin', and I can't be here when he does."

"I… see." Elizabeth straightens and steps to the edge of the doorway, seeming to study Abigail as she's once again hidden in shadows. "Perhaps you should explain how you came to know this. Then, I will give you my answer."

"Fair enough…" Abigail nods gravely, staring up into Elizabeth's deep blue eyes, "I'll explain it to ya'. I met Booker in Fink's factory, while you an' your Booker were leavin', just…" Describing her encounter with Booker back in Fink's secret wing, and what'd happened with the Tear, Abigail watches Elizabeth intently as she does, the expression on the old woman's weathered face changing slightly as she goes; at first there's displeasure at the mention of she shooting at Booker, then relief at the escape through the Tear, confusion at how Abigail came to possess Booker's memories, and finally joy when she backs up to relate Booker talking about his daughter.

"I also know who ya' really are, Elizabeth. I know you're Booker's daughter, not Comstock's... I know your real name's Anna." Abigail breathes a sigh as the happiness drains from the old woman's face. All that's left is sadness in its place, and Abigail can't help but feel a pang of sympathy for this Elizabeth. Despite all she's done, explained to her by Rosalind Lutece, this Elizabeth is still just another of Comstock's victims. "He looked happy when he spoke of Anna…"

"Why…" Elizabeth retreats further into the shadows, turning her gaze out into the emptiness beyond, "Why was Booker even there? He should have been at home, with his daughter."

"But he didn't have you." That gets Elizabeth's attention. "Booker meant ta' save Elizabeth. He's had… had nightmares, and visions, seeing her…" Abigail falls silent; she hasn't told this Elizabeth what became of the girl. "Elizabeth lost her power and was tryin' ta' save someone. He saw Elizabeth… he saw her die."

"Die?" Elizabeth's gaze falls, despair touching her features. "I'd always hoped… once everything was set right, that she'd still exist, and could be happy…" Even in the dark, Abigail can make out the forlorn look in Elizabeth's eyes. "What… what happened? Did Booker…?"

A nod. That's all she can manage as she recalls the nightmare's end, and Abigail has to cover her mouth to suppress a whimper. But even so, Abigail catches a hint of a smile tugging at Elizabeth's lips, the old woman turning away.

"Thank you. I never asked you your name, and I suppose it doesn't matter, but thank you nonetheless." All trace of emotion is gone from Elizabeth's voice once more, only the weariness from before present, "To answer your question… it took everything I had to bring Booker here. To open the Tears so he could understand what was being done to her… to me. My powers have withered over the years as I became… a shell of my former self. It is but a shadow of what the other girl will be able to call upon. But even if I could send him back to that exact time… I wouldn't."

"Wha…? Why not? Ya' could save Elizabeth so much pain!"

"She needs the willpower and fortitude to end Comstock, once and for all. Without it, the girl will surely run away with Booker, rather than face what needs to be done… than putting a stop to this whole… sad story…"

"… Lutece never told me how she did it, only that they wouldn't be together after the end. How…" Abigail hesitates, almost certain that the answer wouldn't do her peace of mind any good. But she still has to know, "How do they stop Comstock? And why couldn't they be together when the deed's done?"

"Because, Miss Vox…" Elizabeth brings her gaze back to Abigail, "Booker DeWitt and Zachary Comstock are one. A single choice separated them, defined them…" Abigail only half hears Elizabeth's explanation, the shock of the revelation too much for the young redhead. "After the battle at Wounded Knee, Booker sought forgiveness at baptism. Booker refused, turning away from the baptism. Comstock didn't, accepting his new, guiltless life."

"No…" Abigail falls to her knees in the snow, barely registering that Elizabeth's stopped explaining. "A mirror… just like I saw. Like… the me in Rapture…? So that's why Comstock took you?"

"Yes. And Booker will realize that, to end it all… he has to die." Elizabeth's voice quavers as she says it, the swell of emotion in her voice surprising Abigail again. "They erase Comstock at the moment he would be born. That is why they must 'part', as you put it; the girl drowns him in the river Comstock was baptized in, and Booker accepts it. He is the one who must pay down all of our accounts… and he realizes that's what must be to undo what he's done."

"But he survives. He doesn't remember, but he does." Rising to her feet, Abigail wipes away the touch of tears from her eyes, her resolve returning, "The Booker I met is the same Booker as the one comin' here, the memories taught me that all too well; the bond they share is proof of that."

A bellowing sound rips through the air, Abigail wincing at the horrid noise. "It's time. Booker will be here shortly. You must go, Miss Vox." Looking up at Elizabeth as her voice somehow pierces the din, Abigail heaves a quiet sigh, knowing it to be true but wishing she had more time.

"The last I saw, Elizabeth was with Booker and Anna. A family, and happy at that." Abigail shouts back as the noise dies down, the Tear opening behind her, "They were… they were eatin' croissants, and…" She doesn't know why, but Abigail can't help but feel it right to leave Elizabeth something, a hint of the life the other Elizabeth now has. Something to maybe leave her with a little happiness.

"Thank you." Elizabeth turns away as the sound of fighting comes ever closer. "You should go." It seems Lutece has opened the Tear for your return." Turning and reluctantly trudging towards the Tear, Abigail can't help but feel as if she's missed something, something important that shouldn't be overlooked. Tears, other worlds, other selves…

"Wait!" Just as she's about to step over the threshold, Abigail stops and spins around, her voice a shout, "What about this world's Elizabeth?"

"Hmm?" Elizabeth turns back to look at Abigail, her expression curious, "What do you mean?"

"You and Booker came through a Tear to this world. The Booker DeWitt of this world never found his Elizabeth, saying that she'd been spirited away before he got to her. He died a martyr for our cause… and 'his' Elizabeth had been taken to Comstock House already. Where… where is she?"

"I… don't know. Perhaps the answer exists somewhere in your time, Miss Vox, but it has most likely returned to dust by now. Why? Why do you…?" The elderly Elizabeth shakes her head, heaving a quiet sigh, "It matters not. Perhaps you'll come upon the answer someday, but now… now you must go; he's almost here."

"A-alright…" Backing up into the Tear, Abigail watches the lonely figure in the dark until she can no longer as the Tear envelops her, obscuring her vision of the dark future world and the future Elizabeth along with it. "Goodbye, Elizabeth. I hope ya' took some comfort from what I told ya'…"

The Tear leaves Abigail stumbling as she returns to 1912, the young woman nearly falling as her foot catches on something. When she finally gets her feet under her, Abigail finds Rosalind Lutece standing before her as the Tear closes between them.

"Welcome back. I take it you're satisfied now?" Rosalind quips as she clasps her hands before her, and Abigail nods slowly.

"Thank you… an' yeah, sorta…"

"So, did you find the answers you sought?"

"And then some…" Abigail peers back at Rosalind as she drops onto the bed, still stained with blood from her nosebleed, "Booker and Comstock… you were right; I wouldn't have believed a word of it." Staring back at Rosalind, Abigail wonders if she should ask about the 'other' Elizabeth for a moment before shaking her head, "Doubt I'd get a straight answer outta her, anyway. Hell, never mind…"

"Then that's the end of it. So now you know their story, might I ask what you're going to do now?" Stepping closer, Rosalind comes to stand beside Abigail's bed with a mildly curious look about her.

"Find… no… what am I going to do?" Abigail thinks to herself, the lingering emotions left in the wake of the memories particularly affecting her feelings towards the Lamb, especially after her meeting with the elderly Elizabeth; she realizes that it's probably Booker's sentiment from having his memories and not her own that's fueling her actions, but she just can't shake it. How can she be sure the memories aren't affecting her more than she realizes? It's this doubt that draws a groan from the young redhead, and Abigail rests her head in her hands for a moment.

Breathing a deep sigh, Abigail looks up at the curious scientist after several heartbeats, "I'm thinkin' the Vox need ta' be set straight. Got a few in mind who can help me, can I count on ya' to be one of 'em?" She'd rather not be soul searching with Lutece staring at her.

"Perhaps." Rosalind continues to stare at her with that mildly curious, mildly bored and incredibly aggravating expression, "But for now, I shall be leaving you. I've somewhere to be."

"Ah!" Abigail raises a hand quickly as Rosalind turns to leave, the peculiar scientist stopping for a moment, "Can I ask ya' for somethin'? Will ya' tell Booker 'thank you' for me?"

Rosalind simply stands there, looking Abigail over as she seemingly considers her request. And just as Abigail open her mouth to ask again, Rosalind nods curtly, "Very well. I shall relay your message."

Begrudgingly climbing to her feet, Abigail makes for the door as she's suddenly left all on her own, even as she feels her weary body urge her to curl up in bed and go back to sleep. But after the cold and isolation she'd felt from Elizabeth and the memories that made her last nap anything but restful, Abigail has no intention of simply going back to bed.

Wandering out into the hallway, Abigail finds the rest of the soldiers she'd encountered gathered around a makeshift campfire. Vivian's among them, awake and upright, though with a pained look about her. Abigail finds her feet slowing as she lays eyes on her friend, a smile teasing at her lips, "Viv…" Her voice draws Vivian's gaze, and a smile of her own crosses her friend's face. "I'm glad you're okay…"

"I'm fine, Abby." Vivian waves her over with her good hand, though the effort seems to take a little out of her, "Our friend here's a sight better than most of our medics." Though her left arm's in a sling and her chest bandaged, Vivian still manages to give the Chinaman a good thump on the shoulder. "How about you, Abby? Nobody's been able to tell me how you got your wound."

"The same crazy bastard who attacked ya'." Stepping into the common room, Abigail shrugs as she runs a finger along her bandage, "It'll leave a scar, I'm bettin', but that's all. Don't worry, that bastard won't be hurtin' nobody now."

Joining the group of disaffected Vox, Abigail can't help but smile as a touch of warmth springs to life in her chest. This warmth was what she'd once felt among the Vox, and she'd sorely missed this feeling of camaraderie. They might be a group of misfits among the Vox Populi now, but Abigail couldn't care less; if disagreeing with the path the Vox have taken makes them misfits, she wouldn't have it any other way.

But even as she pushes her worries from her mind, a small part of Abigail still wonders at the strangely missing 'other' Lamb of Columbia. Another Elizabeth, who didn't even have a False Shepherd to set her free from her cage. So where is she?

"How much of this is in my head?" Staring quietly into the crackling fire, Abigail once more ponders the memories and the sentiments Booker left behind. It'd be easy to write the feelings off as belonging solely to Booker. But the more she thinks on what she'd seen and felt, the less Abigail finds such an excuse palatable; while the emotions left by Booker may not be genuinely hers, those that came later most likely aren't; the more Abigail learns about Elizabeth's story, the more she thinks she's got real feelings towards the girl.

"She never had a Booker… never had a friend. I'll…" Massaging her temples as she goes on staring into the fire, Abigail breathes a sigh as she comes to a decision, "I'll find her, if for nothin' else than ta' tell her the truth…" A smile touches her lips as she thinks back on the song she'd heard in the memories, Elizabeth's voice one of the few things clear from the memory of her other self's life.

Author's Note: Well, a few have suggested I have Abigail meet Elizabeth, though I don't think this is quite what they had in mind. So, I think I should mention something; I'd intended for the majority of Abigail's story (pretty much everything from the first chapter up until she returned to the Factory) to be all of three chapters. Obviously, that didn't go as planned. Regardless, I hope you enjoyed Abigail's meeting with the elderly Elizabeth, and the question that has honestly been bugging me for a while now; where is the last reality's Elizabeth?

Thanks for reading, and hope you enjoyed.