Welp...I've broken my promise, folks. I promised you guys I wouldn't make you wait for another chapter for so long again, and here we are...I am profoundly sorry. I'm still rather new at this story-writing thing and between that, school, and work, I just haven't had time to just sit down and write. On the bright side, next week is spring break, so although I'll still have a life I need to attend to I will have a bit of time to work on more chapters for you guys. My goal is to be finished with the story by summer, and then I'll start writing my next Jackabeth AU. I hope you guys will sty with me until then! Enjoy the chapter, and again I apologize profusely for the wait! Thanks again to my beta Ronin.
"I am not going to lie," Jack says to no one in particular, staring at his hands that are still rapidly switching Plasmids-was that Target Dummy? Jack doesn't even have Target Dummy, what the hell- "this is not the most fucked up thing that's happened to me today. Hell, this doesn't even crack the top ten. What the fuck."
He shakes his hands-the numbness that's been steadily spreading throughout his body for the past hour and and half is retreating, and fast. It's leaving an odd sort of ache in its wake-but hey, Jack's not complaining. He can move his legs again, at least-and he's dealt with pain before, he can handle it. After a few more seconds of Security Bullseye switching out with Winter Blast and Winter Blast switching out with Sonic Boom and Sonic Boom switching out with Incinerate!, Jack finally feels the numbness in his hands retreat and leave the same aching pain behind. Sighing, he tries switching to Cyclone Trap, just to make sure-and, yep. His Plasmids are screwed.
"Goddamnit," he groans, letting his hand fall to his side. Well, he can't use his Plasmids anymore-or at least, not right now. That's just perfect. Now Jack's only got his weapons, and those are limited, too- he's low on ammunition for some and completely out for others, and he's broke. The next hour or so of his life is going to be just peachy, he can tell.
God, he's going to die. Again.
He's not looking forward to it.
"Well this is going to be fun," Jack grumbles. "I guess I'd better let Tenenbaum know where I am so that she knows where to find my dead body." He unclips the radio from his side and flicks the "ON" switch. "Hey, Tenenbaum, I'm in Fontaine's apartment right now. I've gotten the first dose of the Lot, but something's messed up my Plasmids and I can't control them. Do you have any idea what that's about?"
"...Uh."
Jack swears his heart leaps into his throat at the familiar voice, but he doesn't say anything.
"...Jack? I tried to reach you earlier, but-"
"My radio was off," Jack says curtly. He wants this conversation to be over as soon as possible-though some of his anger at Elizabeth has dissolved since the last time they spoke, he's still pretty pissed and hurt at her betrayal. He doesn't want to deal with her right now-but if not now, when? Well, he doesn't want to deal with that either, so he doesn't.
"...Oh."
"Where's Tenenbaum?"
"She's...somewhere else. Listen, Jack, we need to-"
"Yeah, yeah, in a minute. I need to talk to Tenenbaum first, it's important-"
"I'm right here, Herr Jack," a new voice says over the radio, and Jack is more than relieved to hear her voice right now.
"Fantastic. Listen, there's something wrong with my Plasmids, they're-" Jack begins, but is cut off by none other than Tenenbaum herself.
"Yes, I heard you the first time." She sighs. "It is nothing to worry about. The compound is simply taking hold. The effects of the mental suggestion are now gone, but there will certainly be side effects, such as your Plasmid problem-I do not believe the effects are permanent. If you find the rest of the Lot 192, the problem should be fixed. I think Suchong had some in his laboratory-you could check there for another dosage."
Jack nods before he remembers Tenenbaum can't see him. "Right. Thanks."
"It is no trouble. By the way, you are at Fontaine's apartment, yes?"
"Uh...yes. Why?"
"Good," Tenenbaum says, ignoring Jack's question. "Elizabeth is coming to assist you, please stay where you are and wait for her."
"Okay-Wait. What."
"Jack-"
The next seven minutes are spent with Elizabeth, Tenenbaum, and Jack all talking over each other-Jack refusing to work alongside Elizabeth again on account of how trustworthy she is-Elizabeth at first pleading with him for another chance and then not two minutes later turning to vehemently denying his heated accusations-and Tenenbaum, practically yelling over the both of them, trying to convince Jack that he can't do this alone and that he needs Elizabeth's help-because no, she can't help him-isn't she already doing more than enough behind the scenes?-and besides, the Little Ones need supervision in case Fontaine decides to come looking for them. Tenenbaum's voice is eventually lost in the near screaming match Jack and Elizabeth seem to be dissolving into, and it takes the threat of Tenenbaum severing the connection altogether to get them to shut up long enough for her to make her case. Once she's done, Jack immediately starts talking again, something which Elizabeth heavily protests to-but Tenenbaum is quick enough this time and shuts down the argument.
"Jack, Elizabeth will accompany you and that is final," the geneticist says sharply, shutting both of them up at once. "You are our only hope of defeating Fontaine, and we cannot lose you. You are in no condition to be traveling by yourself, and Elizabeth has proven herself more than capable of picking up the slack. You two certainly have your differences, and you can bicker all you want once Fontaine is dead. But for now, you must not fight-you must help each other. Do you understand?"
For the first time since the conversation begun, there is complete silence. Tenenbaum is about to repeat herself when there is a faint, "Yes ma'am," heard over the line. It's Jack. She takes a deep breath and nods once, though neither of them can see her-she's locked in her office, alone, with the curtains drawn. Elizabeth is upstairs by the big door-Tenenbaum has no idea why. Speaking of-
"And Elizabeth?"
There's a breath, then a pause. Then: "Yes ma'am."
She can't believe this.
She can't fucking believe this.
She trekked all the way to Fontaine's apartment, found Jack, together they made a game plan, and now-
Now he's giving her the silent treatment.
The silent treatment, of all things.
She can't fucking believe this.
Oh, she's tried getting him to talk-multiple times, in fact. He never acknowledges her or answers. Not even in grunts or facial expressions. God, he's such a dick.
She wants to hate him. She kind of does.
But she also knows that she deserves it.
Well, fiftieth time's the charm, she thinks pessimistically, tired of the silence that had sprouted since she had last attempted to get him to talk, and punches him in the arm.
That, of all things, gets a reaction out of him. Not the half-hearted name calling, not the offer to spill her guts to him, not the offer of cash to buy more ammunition because she's noticed he's almost out-no, the punch to the arm is what gets to him. Jesus Christ.
"Ow!" he cries, rubbing his arm where she had punched him. He turns to glare at her. "What the hell was that for?"
Elizabeth shrugs, seemingly nonchalant. Inside, she's almost as nervous as she was when Jack had found out the truth. "Fun. And also because you deserve it. You dick."
Jack narrows his eyes at her dangerously, and honestly? That look doesn't scare her as much as it used to. Now, it just makes her even more pissed. "What did I do? You were the one that gave Fontaine the means to control me. If it wasn't for you-"
Oh, Elizabeth should have known. She should have known he was going to pin this whole thing on her. It was kind of mostly your fault, though, a tiny voice in her head whispers. She chooses to ignore it in favor of raising her voice at Jack in her own defense. "If it wasn't for me you'd still be God knows where on the surface, brainwashed and alone and left to rot-"
"So? I wouldn't know. I wouldn't have a clue. Do you honestly think that what's going on right now is any better than the alternative? Fuck you. I didn't ask for this-I didn't ask for any of this. This is your fault, Elizabeth."
"It is not my fault!" Elizabeth is screaming now-they both are, she realizes, but it's too late to do anything about it. The tiny voice in her head reminds her that she'd promised Tenenbaum they'd get along, but she pushes that tiny voice out of her mind a second time and instead focuses on shifting her own blame and guilt onto Jack, who-in all honesty-did absolutely nothing wrong. She takes a deep breath at the realization, trying very hard to calm herself before she speaks again. "It's not my fault."
"Isn't it, Elizabeth? I may have pulled the trigger, but you're the one who gave me the gun in the first place. I think that more than qualifies this situation as being mostly, if not entirely, your fault."
"I-" she almost yells, but stops herself before she can continue. "Yeah," she finally breathes out, after a moment of silence. "Yeah, okay. You know what? Fine. Maybe it is my fault." She crosses her arms and looks away.
Jack snorts. "'Maybe,'" he mocks, and Elizabeth has never wanted to punch him as much as she does in this moment-but she knows that if she does she'll break her hand, and they really can't afford that right now. So, she settles for silent seething and an ice-cold glare directed at him before turning on her heel and storming ahead.
"This...was not part of the plan."
"I'll admit, even I didn't see this coming."
"Well, what did you expect? They'll have to reconcile eventually-though, a team-up so soon after a fight as big as theirs is bound to end in disaster. I'll be surprised if they don't end up murdering each other."
"...Do you think we should intervene?"
"I think we've done enough."
"Hey, that offer to lend me some cash to buy ammo still stand?"
"No."
Jack shrugs, smirking. "Worth a shot."
After a few beats of silence, she sighs, coming to a halt. "How much?" she asks, not looking at Jack as she rifles through her satchel and pulls out a wad of bills. "Twenty? Twenty-five?"
Jack stares at her blankly before seeming to consider. "Uh...twenty will do, I think. Though it couldn't hurt to have a little extra-" He's cut off but Elizabeth shoving the bills into his hands and stalking off ahead of him. He huffs, rolling his eyes before following her.
They don't talk much after that-the only conversation between them for the next hour and a half is when a group of Splicers gets the jump on them and they have to work together to defeat them, and a second time when Elizabeth hears a Circus of Values machine in the distance. She points this out to Jack, mentioning that they can finally stock up on supplies if they locate where the noise is coming from.
"Hm," is all he says, and that's the end of that.
"You know, you're going to have to talk to me eventually," Elizabeth points out as he's selecting the desired items from the vending machine selection screen. "We can't keep this up forever."
"Yes, we can," he says immediately. He winces as he realizes what he's done. "Uh...you know what, screw it. Yes, we can, and yes, we will, unless and until you decide that you're done playing the double-agent and decide to tell me what the hell is going on. Are you ready to tell me what the hell is going on?"
Elizabeth just shoots him a very unamused glare and stays silent. Jack nods, his lips thinning into a tight smile as he turns back to the vending machine.
"So you begged for my forgiveness and for me to give you another chance, and yet you're still not telling me anything." He shrugs. "Makes sense."
"Shut up."
Well, at least they're talking again. Though it's somewhat reluctantly.
She'll take it.
"Ryan's flesh and blood. Why'd I go the trouble? Otherwise you'd have been cut in two by the first Security Bot you crossed paths with. But not Ryan...he made it so his security would recognize his genetic structure. With half his genes, you ain't immune, but you got just enough to throw them metallic mooks off their game." Fontaine laughs over the radio, making Elizabeth shiver beside him. Jack groans.
"Oh, my God. Please stop talking."
Fontaine laughs again. Out of the corner of his eye, Jack can see Elizabeth tense up again, ever so slightly-if he ever gets the truth out of her, he's going to ask her why. Though, to be fair, Fontaine in general makes him uneasy, so maybe it's the same for her. "Hey, kid. Unlike you, I got time. An' I'm gonna make sure I don't waste it."
Somehow, Elizabeth looks even more uneasy than Jack feels, and he decides that that's probably not the best way to get her to open up-although he is still mad at her, he does want to her to tell him things eventually and he doubts she'll do that if her guard is up. Deciding that he should probably lower it a bit, Jack responds to the latest of Fontain's taunts with a scoff. "What, by taunting me? Wow, what a great way to spend your time. You're a true inspiration for us all, Fontaine."
Fontaine is silent for a minute. Jack thinks he's just about given up when-
"Listen here, boyo," and-oh. The faux Irish accent he had been using as Atlas had come back with that last word. Jack shivers, and he sees Elizabeth's slowly widening smile quickly disappear. "You've got about an hour, maybe an hour an' a half before you bite the dust. So I'd quit yappin' if I were you, and get on with it."
"Fair enough," he shrugs-he manages to sound confident and unbothered when really, he's not, which, yay- "But if you're going to keep talking my ear off, could you please lose the Bronx accent? It's the worst. Your Atlas one was far better-unlike your current one, it was actually tolerable. Pleasant to listen to, even. But this one? This one's a joke. Kind of like you." He smirks, even though he knows Fontaine can't see him-he can't help it. Judging by the surprised chuckle that escapes Elizabeth, she can't help it either. His heart flutters a bit in his chest as he listens to her giggle, but he quickly pushes the feeling down-he'd really rather not think about that while he's still mad at her. He does allow himself to feel good about cheering her up, though-he hadn't liked seeing her so forlorn since they'd started talking again.
Fontaine quickly shuts down his train of thought, growling out through the radio, "Alright, listen here, kid—an' listen closely, 'cuss I ain't kiddin' around. You better shut your mouth now, 'cause when I get to ya you'll be ina helluva lot more pain than you woulda been had you'a kept quiet." He sounds truly aggravated now, which—although it makes Jack shaky, bringing back some very unpleasant memories from what could have only been a few hours ago—it also makes his heart sing with joy. He can't help but grin, turning to Elizabeth and seeing her smiling as well—probably the most genuine smile he's ever seen on her face. She's holding a hand to her mouth, no doubt trying to hide her joy from her partner. He grins wider at the thought; he wants to draw this out, make this last as long as possible. Honestly, Fontaine has wasted so much of his time and made him so angry in the time that he's known him—the real him—that Jack feels he should return the favor. Even if it is just a quick jab at his ego.
"Mm, see, there's your problem. You're so hung-up on ruling Rapture and destroying everything I've ever cared about that you don't see what's right in front of you. See, Elizabeth and I, we're halfway done with the little mindfuck you're putting me through. Once I get the second dose of that cure, I'll be all yours, and I can't wait to see the look on your face as I tear you limb from limb."
"Alright, that's it! Listen here, you little—!" Fontaine's screams are cut off suddenly when Jack flicks the switch on the radio, turning it off. Only then does he allow himself to chuckle, and it appears Elizabeth has the same idea, because she removes her hand from her mouth and allows her giggles to be heard.
She stops after a moment, however, her smile dimming a bit. "Y'know...maybe you shouldn't have told him what we were doing." She sounds disapproving, but there's a playful note in her tone. "I doubt he's going to bother us again anytime soon after that, though. We'd better get moving if we want to beat him to the punch."
Jack nods, still smiling. "...Yeah. Yeah, we should—yeah. C'mon." He resumes walking up the stairs, but pauses as he realizes Elizabeth isn't following him. "Elizabeth?" he asks, concern beginning to surface when she doesn't respond. "Elizabeth," he says again, a bit softer this time.
Elizabeth starts, turning from where she'd been presumably staring off into space to look at him. "Hm? Oh! Oh, yeah. Sorry. Coming."
She hurries up the steps after him, avoiding eye contact as she eventually passes him. Jack sighs as he realizes what this means. "Guess we're back to the silent treatment, then." And they'd been doing so well for the last thirty minutes. What had set her off, he wonders? Was it something Fontaine said? Or perhaps something Jack himself had said? After a couple minutes of pondering, he decides to ask.
"Liz, are you okay?" He uses the old nickname on purpose, in the hopes of jarring a reaction out of her.
She jumps, apparently not expecting Jack to initiate a conversation. Well, who could blame her? It had mostly been him that had refused to speak at first, and now that they're apparently back to square one, initiating a conversation is probably the last thing she expects him to do. Nevertheless, he persists, noting the gloomy and guilty expression crossing her face.
"...I. Yeah. I'm okay. And it's Eliz—" she stops herself, an expression that Jack can't place crossing her face—though if he had to guess he'd say it was determination. She clears her throat, looking in Jack's direction (but not directly at him, something Jack takes to mean not good) as she prepares to continue. "...Anna."
Jack had started walking again once she'd confirmed there was nothing wrong, but at the name "Anna," he stops. "...What?"
"It's-my name. My name is Anna DeWitt. Not Elizabeth...Comstock." She spits that last name like it's poison, but Jack barely notices on account of how faint he's feeling.
"What?" he manages, for a second time. That's not what he had wanted to say, but it's the only thing he could.
Elizabeth-no, not Elizabeth, Anna-sighs, crossing her arms over her chest. "Do I really have to spell it out for you? Elizabeth Comstock is a fake name. It's a cover, a-another lie that I made up to convince people I was someone else. Some-something else. My real name is Anna DeWitt."
"...Oh." Again, not what he had wanted to say-and he hates how he said it, like it's no big deal and she's just told him his sweater is dirty or something, because it is a big deal, damnit, but he doesn't know what else to say, because she's finally admitting it. Admitting that it was all a lie, an elaborate con fabricated for an unknown purpose-and Jack shuts up, silently willing her to continue.
She doesn't, though, and Jack finds himself irritated enough to ask, "Anything else?"
"...I wasn't lying about everything," she admitted quietly after a moment. "I-I was lying about most of it, yes, but not everything. I really was born in New York. I really can speak French, I've really always wanted to go to Paris and see the world." She stops there, though it looks like she has more to say. After a few moments of not speaking, and Jack deciding that she won't, he nods.
"O-okay. So-So Rapture. Why'd you come to Rapture?"
She hadn't been looking at him before, and she still doesn't, but she turns her head even further from his gaze at the question, which only serves to make Jack more suspicious. "I got sidetracked."
"By?"
"A man. He did something terrible to me, and I couldn't just let him get away with it, you know? He was-" she stops herself, then apparently changes her mind on what she's about to say. "He was like my own personal Fontaine. Jack, there was a debt he owed, and I simply made him pay it. That's all."
Jack nods again after a minute or two. "So you came to Rapture to clear a debt. But then you stayed. Why? You've mentioned before that you don't really agree with Andrew Ryan's philosophies and ideas. You could have left. Why didn't you?"
Anna scoffs, though clearly she's nervous, judging by the pinky-squeezing. "When Rapture was first built Andrew Ryan told everyone that they'd been given a choice, a new opportunity to thrive and rise above their lot in life. He told them they could build new lives here, that this-Rapture-was paradise. But he also told them that no one was going anywhere. Once you came to Rapture, you were staying. He didn't want anyone on the surface to know about this place. Granted, some chose to ignore him, and they escaped, but I'm sure Ryan's goonies on the surface took care of that for him. I decided not to try my luck and resigned to living here." Technically, she reasons, it's the truth-though she hadn't exactly lived down here, she had resigned herself to the fact that she was to spend the rest of her days in this hellhole, alone and forgotten by absolutely everyone-and she suddenly realizes that not really many people had even met her-only Booker and Atlas and a few of the latter's thugs. Everyone else she'd known-and even then she hadn't really known them-is dead. There's no one to mourn her, to miss her, to visit her grave-she hadn't even been buried, God-no one to carry on her legacy. She stops at the thought, an odd feeling stirring in her stomach akin to nausea. When Jack begins to speak again, she holds up a hand to stop him.
"Let's keep walking," she suggests, ignoring the feeling for now. "I'm still going to tell you," she adds hastily once she sees Jack about to protest. "I just-we might as well kill two birds with one stone, right? Fontaine's not gonna wait around while I tell my sob story, so we might as well get a move on while I do it. Come on," and without waiting to see if he'll follow (a feat that takes some effort), she brushes past him and begins to climb the next set of steps.
"I wasn't...I mean. I didn't want to lie to you, you know? I just...I didn't know who you were, or anything about you, and I'm not the type to tell random people I meet my entire life's story-hell, I've never told anyone my life story. I knew about you, yes, but I didn't know when I met you that I had previously helped screw up your life-and again, I'm sorry about that, I really am—and I meant to tell you but it was never the right time. There was always a bigger picture, another thing to deal with and even when there were bits of silence I still couldn't bring myself to tell you, because by that time we'd kind of become friends and I knew that you'd react he way you did, and I couldn't risk that. I know it was selfish, Jack, I do. I know I was being selfish, and I should have told you from the start, but I—I couldn't. I'm sorry."
It's a long time before either of them say anything. Elizabeth supposes he's merely trying to process what she's said and wondering if he should forgive her—but Elizabeth's not looking for forgiveness, not exactly. Since her conversation with Tenenbaum, her focus has shifted from forgiveness to closure of some sort. In truth, she suspects that Jack has already forgiven her, at least partially-but for the sake of appearances is keeping it a secret. He'd been more or less civil to her since she'd started telling him the truth, and had even had a small conversation with on what ammunition to buy. Plus, she hasn't caught him laring at her when he though she wasn't looking since then, so that's something. Nevertheless, it still feels like an eternity of walking past rotting corpses, missing persons posters, and the occasional lone Big Daddy when to Elizabeth's great relief, Jack speaks.
"Okay," he says, and that's that.
Except it's not.
"What?" Elizabeth asks, confused.
He turns to look at her—really look at her—and she sees the hint of a smile on his lips. "I forgive you," he says simply, then turns back to the crude graffiti he had been inspecting. "You're obviously not telling me everything, Anna," he continues before she can say more. She flinches at the name, but doesn't make her discomfort known. "I don't quite know what to make of you, but I do know that you've obviously been helping me this whole time for a reason, the most logical one being that you felt compelled to make it up to me somehow. I'll cut you a deal, Anna. While I do appreciate the help, the girls and Tenenbaum need it far more than I do. Help me defeat Fontaine and get them to safety, and I'll consider your debt to me cleared. Do we have a deal?" He doesn't turn around until the last sentence, holding out his hand in an initiation of a handshake. She takes it, shakes it firmly, and for the first time in a long time, she feels hopeful.