You know the drill by now: sorry for the long wait, big thanks to my beta Ronin, and I hope you enjoy this chapter! I tried to make it longer than usual to make up for the longer than usual wait. We have about three chapters left!
"It's not that bad."
"Yes, it is! You smell worse than a rotting corpse on fire. How those kids are ever attracted to something as smelly as you is beyond anyone's understanding. Maybe the mental conditioning changes their sense of smell or something, makes them think you smell like perfume or something. That might merit some looking into, actually…"
Jack waves a clunky hand at her, nearly smacking her upside the head. Luckily, she's always had fast reflexes, and dodges in time to avoid that. He avoids her glare. "You can ask Tenenbaum later. Right now we need to find another dosage of that stuff, and I'm pretty sure I see a bottle in that room, on the table over there."
"The one on the far end of the room, up against the window?"
"Yeah."
"The one in the room with the security camera, no bot shutdown panel, and at least three splicers, one of whom looks like a Houdini?"
Shit. He hadn't seen those. Stupid helmet. "…Yes."
"Great plan. How exactly are you planning on sneaking past them? Unless of course, your plan is to charge in there and hope that the sight of an angry Big Daddy is enough to scare them senseless. I assume that was your plan?" Elizabeth arches an eyebrow, the red smear of her lipstick twisting her smirk into something sinister. Jack frowns back, not liking the effect or her teasing. "You're too clunky in that suit. You can't move freely, and no offense, but you're fairly clumsy—you'd definitely trip over yourself just charging in there like that. Not to mention the cameras. You'd be surrounded by whirlybots in seconds. No, we need a stealthier approach to this."
"I suppose you have a plan, then?" He sounds like a petulant toddler, true, but he can't bring himself to care. Wait, isn't he technically? He makes a mental note to ask Tenenbaum and not tell Elizabeth.
"I do, actually," she says, and vanishes into thin air with a wave of her hand.
It takes him a second to remember—the Plasmid. Right. Peeping Tom? Jack really wishes that she'd remembered she had that earlier—could have saved them a lot of trouble. Even with the Plasmid activated, she's still slightly visible—not enough to matter, and certainly not enough to be noticed by any of the maddened splicers or the non-sentient camera—but to Jack, who is of reasonably sound mind, her silhouette is a faint shimmer that slyly bypasses all of the obstacles, grabs the bottle, and is out of there in no time. Jack nearly whistles, but stops himself at the last minute, reminding himself that he is not the invisible one. He grins when she returns, and he's pretty sure she does too—but of course, she's still invisible, so he can't really tell.
"Okay, fine, your plan was better. That was pretty impressive stuff, by the way. You didn't make a sound, which until today I would have thought impossible for anyone in heels. You're still invisible, by the way."
"Well, I'm glad I was able to prove you wrong. And thanks. Before we apply this stuff, we should probably head somewhere…safer. You know, not next to a room full of splicers? I mean, no place is really safe, but...safer than here." She still doesn't make herself visible, for some reason—either she can't or she doesn't want to, but Jack cannot fathom why she wouldn't.
"You're still invisible."
Elizabeth looks down at herself, frowning. "I know. So what?"
"Well…why?"
"Why not?"
"You're going to run out of EVE. Besides, it makes me really nervous when I can't see you. I don't want to be alone in this place, and even though I know you're still technically there it still freaks me out. And yes, I'm aware that I sound childish, and no, I don't care." He tries to cross his arms, but the bulky material of the suit makes that rather difficult, so he settles for a pout instead. It only occurs to him afterwards that Elizabeth probably can't see inside his helmet, and so the effort is being wasted.
"I'm still in the path of the security camera. If I turn visible again, it'll see me and we'll have an army of bots circling around us in seconds. Besides, Peeping Tom doesn't take up that much EVE, and even if it did we still have plenty of EVE left. Just wait until we get away from here and then we'll be fine. Come on." She starts to walk away and Jack's about to remind her that he still can't really see her, but instead sighs quietly and does his best to follow her silhouette.
Once Jack has been sprayed again (and Elizabeth has mostly finished complaining about how awful he smells—yes, Liz, I'm aware, I smell it too, and you actually have the option of moving away from me —which actually shut her up a bit, surprisingly), the two make their way back to the upper balcony to discuss where the last sample might be hiding. Jack argues that it's probably up here, but Elizabeth wants to go back down to the main floor to look again. If she would just listen—
"Elizabeth, we've already looked on the first floor. There was nothing, no samples, no bottles, no labs. It has to be up here."
"We didn't know what we were looking for, though. We could have missed it, or simply passed it because we didn't think it was important. Maybe it was hidden, behind a bookshelf or under a table. We need to find that pheromone, Jack, and downstairs—"
"—is useless. Come on, Elizabeth. Please just bear with me on this. We won't find it down there. There isn't anything down there anyways, just a dead Big Daddy and a Gene Bank. Can't we just search the upstairs again first? Can't I be right for once? There are no labs on the first floor. All the labs and all the equipment are up here. Besides that, we found the first two samples up here—who's to say we aren't going to find the third one up here? I mean, the odds are for it, right?"
"Jack, we've already searched the upper balcony twice. What exactly are you planning on accomplishing by doing it a third besides wasting our time? Time that, might I remind you, is precious and that we don't have a lot of."
"Why don't we split up, then? I'll take the high ground, you take the low ground."
"You just said that you didn't want me out of your sight!"
"What! No, I didn't. When did I say that?"
"Are you kidding? It was barely ten minutes ago! 'Besides, it makes me really nervous when I can't see you. I don't want to be alone in this place.' Do you really not remember, or are you actually going to ignore an actual conversation that we had in order to get your point across?"
"Haha, very funny. I do not sound like that."
Elizabeth nearly screams, but to her credit she holds it in, instead letting out an irritated growl. She throws up her hands in frustration and looks heavenward, her face for once showing a dominant emotion; completely devoid of fucks to give. "Why did I get stuck with you? I get offered a second chance—I get to go back and fix what I broke, redeem myself, become a better person or whatever. Simple, right? Oh, but I have to help this guy I kinda screwed over before in the process; okay, fair enough. Well, hey, Lutece! You didn't tell me he was a fucking moron! No, no thanks, I'll just go back and die again, that would be preferable!" Okay, so she's kind of—definitely—screaming at the end, and Jack knows he should feel insulted that he just called a 'fucking moron' by the girl he likes but honestly he can understand her frustration, because right now he feels the same way about her. She finishes her rant, still absolutely furious, and she actually stamps her foot before turning back to him and glaring.
Keep your mouth shut, keep your mouth shut, keep your MOUTH—"Who's acting childish now?"
The look of utter disbelief, right before she swings back around and storms off in the direction of downstairs, is one he will treasure for the rest of his life. Though how long that will be before she decides to kill him for his insolence is anyone's guess.
Worth it.
"Alright, fine, you were right. There's nothing down here, and I almost got killed when an on fire bookcase nearly toppled over and crushed me. I'm coming back up. Are you still at the spot overlooking the main area?"
"No, I've moved. Up here looks like a bust, too—haven't found anything, but I was going to head down to where they kept the Sisters and see if maybe there was something there. Meet me there, or should I wait for you? I'm near where they make the suits for the Big Daddys, but I'm walking out now."
"No, go ahead. I'll catch up with you. The hallway with the busted doors, right? I figured maybe those could be important, too, but I wasn't able to get them open. For some reason my Shock—eh, Electro Bolt doesn't seem to be working. I'll head there now; find me at the entrance. And—uhm. I—I'm sorry for blowing up at you…earlier. It's—it's not your fault, and…it's—I mean—let's just find that bottle and get out of here. I hate feelings."
"You and me both. Nevertheless, I thank you for apologizing. I...I guess I'm sorry for calling you childish and pissing you off. You're scarier when you're angry, you know that?"
"I know. Hey, I can see you! From the entrance to the library." Jack lowers the radio, searching for her silhouette on the main level—and there she is, on the steps leading from the library and just entering the main area. She looks up at him and waves, a playful smile on her face.
Jack waves back, offering a salute as well. Though she can't see it, he's sporting a smile as well, which grows mischievous as an idea occurs to him. "Hi. Hey, maybe I should just jump down there and meet you now."
"You can go ahead, but I'm not dragging you to the Vita-Chamber."
"On second thought, maybe I won't," he says, backpedaling away from the balcony to a safer distance. He hears a faint laugh from somewhere down below, and yeah, it's probably Elizabeth, but just to be safe he pulls out his pistol and makes sure it's loaded before heading downstairs to the rendezvous point.
There are quite a few splicers lurking around this area, but most of them steer clear of him due to the Big Daddy disguise. A few brave ones try and cause trouble, but Jack groans into his helmet and hefts his weapon in what he hopes is a menacing stance, and they back off. He gets a bit lost on the way there due to him not having the map—Elizabeth had taken it with her when she'd stormed off earlier. As a result, she is not pleased with having to wait for him to show up, and express as much with her usual displeased look and a few sharp words. Jack, of course, ignores her.
"What do you mean your Electro Bolt doesn't work? It should work just fine; mine always does with busted locks. Maybe I should try."
Elizabeth waves her hand in a grandeur gesture, stepping aside to let Jack access the door. "Go ahead. I ran out of EVE trying to hit the damn thing. Maybe we could find a crowbar or something, force it open."
Jack shrugs, switching to Electro Bolt, taking off his glove (just in case), and aiming. "If this doesn't work, we'll have to." He fires, and as expected, the door does not budge. He even goes up to it to make sure that it's not an automatic, but it stays shut. He frowns. "What the hell? This…this should work. It always works with these kinds of doors. Maybe there's some blockage on the other side of this door. Did you try it with any of the other doors?"
Elizabeth nods, then shrugs. "I suppose it only works if the doors are automatic…which these ones, obviously, aren't. I don't see why, seeing as almost every other door in Rapture is…but I'm sure a crowbar won't be difficult to find. A few splicers use them as blunt weapons, and I've seen more than enough of those around here. Should we split up again?"
"No," Jack says, far too quickly, and sulks at the amused smirk he gets from Elizabeth in return. "No, I would not like to split up. This place is creepy, and faux Big Daddy I may be, but graceful I am not. Do not leave me alone. I can't move properly in this damn thing, and I'm constantly tripping over my own two feet. I refuse to have 'he died of clumsiness' on my tombstone. I need you as backup."
"Thanks for finally admitting it. Though, I definitely wouldn't put 'died of clumsiness' on your gravestone—it'd be worded much classier." She smirks as Jack pouts, patting him on the shoulder in mock placation. "Come on, then—Fontaine won't wait forever." She jerks her head towards the other end of the hallway, not waiting to see if he'll follow before turning and walking away.
They do indeed find a crowbar for them to use to pry open the door, and after fighting a few Houdini splices for it ("Come on, what do they even need weapons for? They've got Plasmids, Liz! This is an outrage!"), they take it back to the hallway of doors and begin prying them open one by one. They don't find anything of value in the first few, but a couple of EVE hypos await them in the next set; beyond that, however, nothing is found until the very last door on the left side. Elizabeth turns to Jack, a weary and done look on her face.
"So, if I can count on our pattern of luck thus far, I'm going to take a guess and say that we'll probably find something of value in here. Would you like to do the honors, or should I just go ahead?"
Jack wordlessly takes the outstretched crowbar—with the Big Daddy gloves making his hands appear larger than they are, the crowbar almost looks small. He jams the business end into the slight crack between the door and the connecting wall and pushes, popping the door off at least one of its hinges and backing away quickly. Inside, sitting on a table amongst the toys and the chalk drawings, sits the final bottle of pheromone spray. Beside him, he hears Elizabeth's sharp intake of breath, and he himself feels like sighing in relief—but refrains for the sake of his eardrums. His partner softly pushes him as she kneels down to grab the bottle, examining it closely before uncapping the disgusting concoction.
"I really hope this stuff latches onto the suit and not you," she comments, already holding her nose and making a face. "I have no idea how the kids are attracted to this stuff. Blech. Alright, arms out, and stand still. This is, hopefully, the last time we will ever have to do this. Thank God."
Jack nods, obliging with her request and spreading his arms out wide. Even though the helmet protects the stuff from getting into his eyes, he still shuts them tight as she circles him, spraying the last layer of the odorous liquid onto his suit. It only lasts a minute or so, but it feels like an eternity. Both are glad when it's over with.
"Are we done?" he asks, not daring to open his eyes. He jumps when he feels something tap against his window visor—that something turns out to be a chipped red fingernail, behind which is Elizabeth's disgusted scowl. "Is that a yes then?"
"Yes. God, you smell horrid. I know I've said that multiple times before, but it doesn't make it any less true. That stuff had better not get into your skin or I'm ditching you as soon as we get to the surface." It's an empty threat, both of them know—after all they've been through, neither one of them would leave the other so easily—but Jack still makes a mental note to keep aware, just in case.
"Yeah, yeah. Okay. So, we've got the suit and we've sprayed me down with pheromones, so all that's left is the voice thing, which Tenenbaum has been very reluctant to talk to us about. We'll have to radio her for more information. I wonder what makes them sound like that, anyways?"
Elizabeth shrugs, flipping open her satchel and digging though it for the radio. "Dunno. I can't imagine it to be pleasant, though. Hopefully, you only need to sound like a Big Daddy, and you won't have to go whatever procedure they did. Though given our luck I wouldn't be surprised." She flicks the switch on the radio, turning it on, and waiting for a few moments before pressing the broadcast button. "Dr. Tenenbaum. I'm sure you've been tracking our progress via the security cameras. We've found the suit and the pheromones, which leaves only the voice modification, which—and correct me if I'm wrong—does not sound pleasant. Where do we go for that?"
It's a long moment before Tenenbaum answers—either she's preparing to tell them what horrible crap they're going to have to go through to get this particular bit of business out of the way or she's just preoccupied—both of which seem equally likely. Answer she does, however, and when she speaks her voice is oddly devoid of emotion. "Yes, the voice manipulation. You will need to go to the Optimized Eugenics, located on the second floor of the Atrium. In there you will be finding a machine. Jack, of course, is the only one who needs to undergo the procedure. I would suggest you not be watching as he undergoes it—it is not a pretty thing, and you will for certain have nightmares about it. Once this is done, you can continue through the door through the Proving Grounds."
"I'm guessing this is the irreversible bit of the disguise," Elizabeth comments, though none of her usual dry wit is present. She eyes Jack nervously, but he barely notices, as he's too focused on his heart pounding in his ears and his legs feeling like they're about to fold. He wants to scream, he wants to cry, he wants to bash something in the face with his wrench. But he won't—for the sake and the future of the girls, he won't. He takes several deep breaths as Elizabeth continues, her voice shaky but also devoid of emotions—like Tenenbaum's. "What exactly will this machine do to his voice? You said it wouldn't be pretty, so I'm guessing nothing pleasant and something most definitely painful. Are you working on a way to reverse this process?"
"Do you know what 'irreversible' means, Fraulein Elizabeth? It means it cannot be undone. No amount of science or surgery can fix what that machine will do to his voice. Think something akin to completely shredding his vocal cords to the point of rendering him mute. He will never speak again—"
"Then he won't do it," Elizabeth states simply, but firmly, clenching a fist at her side. Absently, he notices that her nails are digging crimson crescent-shaped mares into her palm. "We'll find another way, I know we can—"
"There is no other way!" There is a loud bang on the other end of the radio, and Elizabeth flinches at the noise but otherwise does not lessen her stance. She actually growls at the radio as Tenenbaum takes time to calm herself before continuing. "I understand the consequences perfectly well, and I understand the terror and anxiety you both must be feeling right now—I myself feel it as well, and I have all these children to look after before myself. Our fate completely rests in your hands. I care for Herr Jack as much as you do—he is one of my Little Ones, after all—but there is truly no other option. You must accept this—I am sure he already has, and Fontaine will not wait much longer before coming after me and my girls. If he gets here—"
"We'll stop him, I swear it on my grave. Don't…don't worry, Mama Tenenbaum." The nickname affectionately given to her by the Little Sisters feels odd on his tongue, but after being called a "Little One" by the woman who not only technically raised him, but who also is the one person besides Elizabeth who actually cares about him, he feels he owes her something. "We'll stop Fontaine, and we'll save you and the girls. I'll undergo the procedure, and then we'll go after him and put a stop to this whole mess. We can relax after we've hitched a ride to the surface and we're heading…well, wherever we're going after this. Elizabeth and I are headed to the Optimized Eugenics now. We'll...she'll let you know when it's over."
Jack grabs her arm, pulling her back over the threshold and pushing her behind him, as though there is some hidden danger in this particular room that she needs to be protected from. There is, but it won't hurt her. "Wait a moment, Liz," he says quietly, not looking at her but at the machine clearly visible from this angle of the room. The odd machine is hung against the far left wall and is covered in what is almost certainly dried blood. He brings a hand gingerly to his own throat as he stares, grabbing it and squeezing it tenderly as he gulps. He knows what he has to do, and he's certainly willing to pay that price if it means those kids will be safe for the rest of their lives, but that doesn't make it any easier. This will be painful, and he's going to have nightmares about it for the rest of his life. "I don't want you to see this."
Half of him expects her to protest vehemently at being left out of the theatrics and the other half expects her to remain quiet but scornful, so he's surprised when he gets neither. She reaches out for his wrist instead, grabbing it and holding it tightly as she tries for a reassuring look. "I'll be there to see the aftermath anyways. I might as well see the procedure."
"It'll be painful. I'll probably scream." He knows these words won't dissuade her—in fact they will probably only encourage her more, to stand by his side no matter what and be a physical reminder that he's not alone, that he'll never be alone again. The thought both warms and breaks his heart. As for Elizabeth herself, she looks past him at the machine that will permanently destroy his vocal cords and shakes her head, squeezing his wrist tighter.
"I...I'm just not sure about this, Jack. It's not safe and it'll damage you for the rest of your life. There has to be another way, a better way. You can't do this. Maybe...maybe—"
"This isn't for me, Elizabeth," he sighs, shaking his head. He pulls his wrist away, holding it himself and cradling it against his chest. He doesn't dare look at her face—there are too many emotions displayed there and they are an exact mirror of his own at the moment: anger, uncertainty, fear. It's too much. He doesn't want to look at her, knowing that if he does then he'll most likely change his mind once and for all, so he doesn't, simply saying, "This is for the girls. I'm doing it for them—I don't care if I get hurt in the process. I'll be fine, really I will. I promise. Fontaine needs to die, and this is the only way. I'll manage after, I'm sure."
"Jack, we can talk about this. I'm sure there's another option that we're overlooking. What if—I mean we could—" Elizabeth cuts herself off, her brow furrowing as she struggles to come up with an alternate solution. Jack waits somewhat impatiently, hoping against hope that that she does, but knowing that she won't. He proves to be mistaken, however, as just as he's about to interrupt, she claps her hands together, her eyes wide and her mouth open in shock. She turns away from him, muttering to herself, and he thinks he hears the words "machine" and "Big Daddy" but he has no idea what she's talking about. Finally, she turns to him again, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him rather violently as she hurriedly tells him her plan.
"Jack, I think I've got something! It might not work, but it's definitely worth a shot. We won't even have to backtrack to get the supplies, they should all be right here in Point Prometheus. We could—we could build a machine, of some sorts, to mimic the sound that a Big Daddy makes. If it's close enough, the girls won't be able to tell the difference, and you can keep your vocal chords. We just need the parts…"
Jack is about to protest, but something about the absolute certainty in her voice makes him stop and think. It sounds ludicrous, impossible, and yet—could that work? Could he keep his voice and still lead the girls to safety? "Would something like that work? How would we even build something like that? I mean, I'm certainly no stranger to machinery and hacking, but this is another thing entirely. There's no schematics around for this sort of thing—this is a fairly ludicrous idea, and who would even need something like this in the first place?"
Elizabeth shrugs, seemingly not too concerned with this oh-so-minor detail. She waves her hand, already lost in her own musings as she paces in front of him, ignoring him even as he tries to butt in. "We'd need to raid some other machines to get some of the other parts, no doubt about that. Probably not all of the parts, though...maybe a speaker from a Circus of Value, something to modify the voice or make it deeper, more robotic. I don't know what we'd use...? No, that wouldn't work...maybe we could—no, that would take too much time, and we don't have any to waste—"
Jack wrinkles his nose, eyeing his partner with a mix of confusion and fatigue. He suddenly has a headache. God, he can't breathe in this stupid helmet. It's really messing with his head. He feels around for the latches for a minute, purposefully drowning out the sound of Elizabeth still ranting in the background, and when he finds them, carefully unlatches and removes the helmet that he only now realizes is actually quite a bit lighter than it first appeared. Or maybe it's still just as heavy but the lack of oxygen is still messing with his head. Who knows, not him. He takes a couple of deep breaths before deciding that maybe listening to his companion is a good course of action.
...Oh, he can't understand anything she's saying. Is that even English? No, it's definitely English, but barely. What the hell is she even talking about? Are they still trying to figure out how to bypass ripping his vocal chords out? This whole business is making his head hurt even worse. He shakes his head and decides hey, interrupting the Doctor Who knockoff is the best thing for both of them.
"Why can't we just find a voice recorder or something and use a real Big Daddy call?" He knows it's a stupid question, and that's partially why he asked it, but if she'll let him finish, he promises he has a point. He can have a smart idea every once in a while, you know. "You said it yourself, after all—those kids are brainwashed and drugged up to hell, and trained to recognize anything resembling a Big Daddy call as one. Besides, they're attracted to the pheromones and the costume, not the noise. They sure as hell won't be able to tell the difference between real and fake, so why not go the extra mile and use the real thing? It'll take less time and for sure as shit it'll be less of a hassle." He's pretty confident that it'll work, as confident as Elizabeth seems with her idea in fact, but he's about to take it back when he sees Elizabeth stop mid-rant and look up at him slowly. Well, he's seen that look before, but it's never been directed at him before, and suddenly he feels like one of Rapture's many machines that she's just figured out how to hack. But then...then she grins.
"Oh, you beautiful genius!" she cries, grabbing his face with both of her hands and squishing his cheeks. "Jack, you're amazing. That's perfect. If we can get close enough to one—if we can find maybe an Audio Diary or something and record the call—yes, that'll work. That'll work perfect." She pulls his face closer to hers and presses a kiss to his forehead, and wow, Jack can feel her lashes brushing against his skin as she closes her eyes. What a nice feeling. "I'm sure the Audio Diaries we've been collecting have some sort of function that allows the user to tape over. We just have to find out how and find a Big Daddy. Simple! Or...make a noise somehow resembling it. Whatever. I'm sure there's one around here somewhere, I heard them walking around earlier. Bonus, if its got a Little Sister with him, we can save another child."
Jack nods, still a little dizzy from the kiss, and then nods again. "Yeah. Yes. Absolutely. We can do that." Then the full weight of what she'd said slams into him. "Oh. Oh! Oh, yes. See? I can have a good idea every once in a while. I'm not as dumb as I seem. Take that, Fontaine," he mumbles under his breath, but he beams at Elizabeth's praise.
She scoffs, shaking her head, and she heads in the direction of the stairs, beckoning Jack to follow her. "Well, I never said that," she tells him, and then rolls her eyes at the disbelieving look on his face. "Okay, okay, so maybe I've said a few times that you were kind of a dumbass. But really, you were…" She wrinkles her nose distastefully at what she's about to say, but she can't think of any other way to phrase it. "You were...created by Rapture's 'best and brightest' minds. Let's not go into detail. You're probably way closer to genius IQ than you think. Trust me, you are anything but dumb. Dorky and sometimes immature, yes, sometimes, but not stupid." She gives him a slight smile at that. "And...besides. I don't know many people who could hack a security camera in less than two minutes while avoiding behind shot at while fending off angry drug-addicts. You've got your skills, believe me."
Jack full-on grins at that. "Why, thank you, m'lady," he jokes, bowing slightly, and immediately almost trips on the first step. "Don't forget clumsy," he mutters amid Elizabeth's sudden snorting fit. He rolls his eyes at the hand offered him, and bats it away. "Har har. Let's just find that Big Daddy and get to Fontaine."
They manage to find both an unimportant Audio Diary and a Big Daddy lurking upstairs—the diary was one of Fontaine's, as an added 'fuck you', and the Big Daddy didn't have a Sister, so it wasn't necessary to engage him. It was a little more difficult than it first seemed to get close enough to record the sound, and a bit of stalking was required, but once they got a few different noises they retreated and headed to one of the abandoned workshops to put the final touches on their plan.
"We should probably radio Tenenbaum to let her know that we've found an alternate solution," Jack mentions to Elizabeth as he helps her fix the device onto his suit. "I mean, sure, we don't know if it works, but it's much better than nothing."
"It will work," she reassured him, squeezing his arm gently. "It has to work. I'm sure Tenenbaum won't mind, she was one-hundred percent on board with your vocal chords getting ripped to shreds anyways so I doubt she'll care much that we changed our plan."
Jack sighs, and immediately winces as the sound is amplified by his helmet and the glass on his helmet visor fogs up. Oh, he deeply regrets putting this thing on again before it was absolutely necessary. But what else was he supposed to do, lug a twenty pound scrap of metal around for half an hour? Unlikely. "Oh, hush. Give the woman a bit of credit. It seemed like the only way. Hell, it still might be. I know it seems to you that all she cares about it taking out Fontaine, but it isn't so. Just trust me on this, and trust her. She trusts us."
Elizabeth frowns, but doesn't respond, and finishes securing the Audio Diary, making sure that Jack can reach it easily before stepping back and admiring her handiwork. "You'll have to be careful, that thing could get damaged pretty easily and if worst comes to worst it'll get completely destroyed."
Jack nods. "Fair."
They head back downstairs and make their way towards the Little Sister door. Elizabeth walks to stand in front of it while Jack goes to the Little Sister vent to collect a child. He takes out his wrench and whacks the mouth of the vent, and both of them wait with bated breath for several seconds before the pitter-patter of tiny feet is heard.
"Mr. Bubbles?" a small voice calls out, and to both of their surprise the tone is not double-edged. Tenenbaum must be sending the saved children to them, then. Distantly, Jack finds himself questioning his sanity and his faith in the woman, but it's quickly washed away when the child calls out again, sounding much closer now: "It's time to plaaaay…"
Jack helps her crawl out of the vent, picking her up and setting her down on the small ledge protruding from the base. He realizes with a start that he's seen this particular child before—red hair, Irish accent, green dress. She was the girl who had announced herself the winner of the game all the way back in the sanctuary, and who had drawn the family with the submarine. She smiles up at him, and distantly he notes that her eyes are a warm brown. He has the wherewithal, thankfully, to smile back, but of course he remembers too late that she can't see it.
Elizabeth seems to know who she is, too. "Hi there," she says as a way of announcing her presence to the child. She waves as she begins walking over to them. "I'm Elizabeth."
The girl beams. "I'm Adelaide. Can I call you Lizzie? Sally calls you Lizzie."
Elizabeth shrugs, sneaking a glance at Jack and risking a small smile. "You can call me whatever you like. I'm here to help Ja—er...Mr. Bubbles get you through the door and to the other side of this area up ahead." She points to the door, and Adelaide nods. "You think you can handle it?"
The girl jumps off the ledge and runs to Elizabeth, gazing up at her with those adorable eyes that remind Jack of puppies. "Lizzie."
"Lizzie it is, then. And this is Mr. B. He's going to keep you safe."
"What about you?"
"I'm here to keep Mr. B safe."
She nods slowly, because yeah, that would make sense to a five year old, right? "Okay! Let's go." She scurries away faster than Jack would have imagined and crawls under the door, and a moment later they hear the slide and click of a lock coming undone. Another few moments, and the door creaks open slightly. Elizabeth wastes no time in hurrying to catch up, and after a couple of seconds trying to process what just happened, Jack does the same.