That morning, Eleanor was greeted by a nurse and a doctor. She was inside the Lower Manhattan Hospital. They chatted a bit, Eleanor answering generic questions about what happened last night. The nurse looked surprised, raising her eyebrows once in a while. The doc seemed pretentiously concerned, writing down notes as they spoke.
"...When you were brought in, there was no ID on you. But for now, we use what we've got. Ms. Lamb, I am afraid that—"
"I lost my right eye," Eleanor answered for the doc. And my medallion...
The doctor nodded with a slight groan.
"I must be the unluckiest girl in the world," Eleanor mumbled, crossing her arms and making herself comfortable.
"Well, that would not make much sense. You survived a gunshot through the eye and brain, got thrown into the sea, didn't drown, and a random girl pulled you ashore. I'd say you're the luckiest girl in the world," the doctor said.
Eleanor had a life both lucky and unlucky. The pain in her eye was not as severe as it used to be, at least.
"We're not sure how you survived all that," the nurse commented. "How are you feeling? I am surprised you look so good despite what's happened to you."
Eleanor made a little smile...but said nothing.
"Eleanor!" a high-pitched voice squealed. Cindy ran to the scene, her mother walking after her. Eleanor turned her head, Cindy materializing at the bedside. "I made you a cupcake!" Cindy raised a little white plate with both hands, on it a pretty pink cupcake with a strawberry on top. She cocked her head and grinned. "Just for you!"
Eleanor's heart melted. She smiled softly, eyelids lowering. Cindy was so cute acting the way she did. Big Sister accepted the present, Cindy anxiously waiting for her to take a bite. Memories of leaving Father gifts flooded Eleanor's mind for a moment. Eleanor took a bite.
"Do you like it?" Cindy asked.
"Yes, it's really good."
"Hih-hee hee! I worked really hard on it! Mommy helped me, too," Cindy explained, turning her head and looking at Amanda for a while. "Eleanor, are you feeling better?"
"Much better than last night."
"See!" Cindy squeaked, looking back at her mother, "I said the cupcake would make her better!"
Amanda stroked her daughter's head.
Cindy pulled something out her pocket, showing Eleanor. It was the Big Daddy doll.
"Little Daddy wanted to see you, too! I kept telling him you'd be okay."
Eleanor would have nothing to do all day, but she did not mind. Cindy stayed with her, running around and bringing toys from the children's section to Eleanor. Amanda stood by, sometimes chatting with Eleanor while Cindy ran about.
The child occasionally asked how Eleanor was doing and if she needed anything. No matter what Eleanor said, Cindy gradually piled more and more toys on Eleanor's bed. Clearly, Eleanor had no choice but to play with Cindy, however she could.
"Eleanor?" Cindy asked.
"Yes?"
"Are you sure you don't need anything?"
"Yes, Cindy, I'm sure."
"Okay! But if you ever need anything, you tell me, okay?" Cindy scurried off to fetch more toys.
"So, you going to ever have kids?" Amanda asked.
Eleanor smiled, but held in a chuckle. "No."
"I didn't want kids either, but she came along anyways. Even after leaving Mark... Rapture... You couldn't save Mark, but... Thank you, Eleanor, for bringing back my baby. I was expecting I would live the rest of my life in regret and ruin, but you changed that. I will come to visit you with Cindy every day until you get better." Amanda still looked a bit troubled by what happened in her life, but Eleanor would not bug her about it. Eleanor really did not want to think about Mark's death.
Or Father's death... "Thanks, it means a lot. I really missed the Little...ones. It's so heartwarming to see Cindy again." Eleanor watched as Cindy played with blocks.
Soon, Amanda sat on a chair, and Cindy sat on the bed, basically playing with toys on Eleanor's face. At times, Cindy was quite annoying, but how could Eleanor ever interrupt the child? She wanted the kid to actually have a childhood.
Ugh, no wonder people are always sick in the hospital, Eleanor thought as she stared at the food on her lap. Too bad hospital food sucked. The food looked good, but tasted bad.
"Eleanor, you have to eat your food!" Cindy stated, reading Eleanor's face. Cindy sure could be a small mom.
"Well, maybe you want some?" Eleanor asked.
Cindy stared at the food with big eyes. It sure looked different. "Oh, well, maybe a lil' bit?" Cindy picked a strip of meat and ate it. After a second of chewing, her paused, eyes getting bigger, then she spat the meat onto her hand and tossed it away. Eleanor and Amanda snickered. "Umm, no..." Cindy focused on her toys again.
Eventually, the nurse came back, tapping Amanda's shoulder to speak to her. Eleanor was too sleepy to listen, but it was dark outside. Did the entire day really pass that quickly?
"Cindy?" Amanda asked, standing up from her chair.
Cindy froze, then slowly turned her head. "Time to go?"
Mother nodded.
Cindy's shoulder dropped and she pouted.
Amanda smiled. "We have to let Eleanor get her rest. We will come back tomorrow, first thing after school."
"School's important, Cindy. Will you promise me to study hard?" Eleanor asked, Cindy looking at her with a paused, thoughtful expression.
"Don't worry Eleanor, I'll study hard! Promise!" Cindy chirped, then hopped off the bed, accidentally kicking several cubes, balls, and a few toys to the floor, including the Big Daddy doll. "Oops..." Cindy put them back on the bed, gently. She stared at Little Daddy for a second then put him in her pocket. He slouched in his ride, head and arms dangling.
"See you tomorrow, Eleanor. We'll be back," Amanda said.
"Yeah! See you tomorrow," Cindy repeated, following her mother.
"See you tomorrow, Cindy," Eleanor said as the kid walked to her mother.
"Bye-bye, Eleanor!" Cindy waved and left with Amanda.
"I just need to ask some questions, make some notes, and check your blood pressure," the nurse said kindly. After she finished, the nurse asked Eleanor if she needed anything. Eleanor did not, so the nurse left for the night.
Eleanor felt lonely again, only kids' toys keeping her company. She sighed.
Nighttime came, but Eleanor could not sleep. At times, the kids' toys were kinda creepy, seemingly staring at her with their unblinking faces.
Someone quietly stepped into the room, Eleanor holding her breath and pretending to be asleep.
The man wore a grey suit, and held a pistol with a suppressor—he stepped on a ball and slipped, hitting the floor hard.
Eleanor jumped out of bed, sudden movement causing her hospital gown to untie at the back, the fabric nearly slipping off her body. Though, there was no time to worry about that, someone was here to kill her!
Before the man could react, Eleanor kicked him across the jawbone; he was out cold. Eleanor grabbed the pistol and stood by the doorway, listening carefully. She heard quiet footfall down the hallway, the unwelcome guests probably having heard the first man's fall and approached to investigate.
Waiting patiently for a few seconds, Eleanor closed her eyes, sensing the approaching men. She leaned out of cover and fired as fast as she could. After a brief exchange of suppressed gunfire, bullet holes forming in the wall, four men hit the floor, dead grip still grasping their guns, blood oozing out their chests.
Several old people mumbled from nearby rooms, grumpy that they were awoken, oblivious to what was going on.
Eleanor stepped out her room. She clutched her sternum. She had been shot a few times and bled, but the bullets failed to penetrate her body. If only she had her Big Sister suit, she would be quite durable.
One man turned out to not be dead. He writhed, quietly groaning. Eleanor shot him in the head, blood spattering along the tiles, her pistol slide locked backwards. She knelt to examine the men. They all wore grey suits, just like the first man. She rummaged inside one man's jacket, putting down her pistol, and pulled out his wallet. Her left hand conjured a little flame so that she could see in the darkness, taking a look at the man's documents. She slipped out his ID.
The top of the paper read Pinkerton's National, the two words curving over an image of a left eye and eyebrow.
"My right eye is missing, too," Eleanor commented. Under the eye, in small text, read WE NEVER SLEEP. Below that, read Detective Agency. Eleanor furrowed her eyebrows. She dropped the ID, and after some more searching, found the man's badge. It was solid silver, with black lettering. The badge read: Pinkerton National Detective Agency, and had a Star of David in the centre. "Pinkerton's National Detective Agency? Huh... Don't really know who they are..." Nevertheless, the badge was proof of who these men were. She dropped the badge on the dead man's face, unable to find out why a private security organization was trying to kill her. Able to sense approaching danger, she deactivated her little flame, reloaded two pistols with their spare clips, and held each in either hand.
"Hey, you guys there or what?" someone whispered, walking from around the corner of the hallway. He held an Uzi with a suppressor.
Eleanor focused. No purple lights flashed. She frowned. I can't teleport? Damn. I need a few more seconds... She and the incoming man looked at each other at the same time; he spun back behind the corner. He leaned out of his cover and opened fire, the suppressor not really doing much for an SMG; the gunfire echoed like crazy indoors.
Eleanor raised her pistols and returned fire. Bullets whizzed to and fro, ramming into walls and flooring, flinging tiny chunks of architecture. The man spun behind cover.
Various patients throughout the hallway grumbled or called for help.
Eleanor stormed the man's position—just as she ran around the corner of the hallway, something odd happened. The man formed a tiny, horizontal tornado, and rammed into Eleanor. She was hit with such force she dropped her pistols and hit the floor hard, and her hospital gown had unraveled and slipped off her midair. Eyes going big, Eleanor's palms slapped over her jiggling nipples, hiding her muffins, cheeks flushed red. The man pointed his gun down and opened fire again. Purple flashed; Eleanor was gone, bullets raking the floor for a second. The man was dumbstruck.
After a few heartbeats, the man turned around—he was lifted off the floor, glowing purple swirling in the air. He flailed his limbs, shouting, wildly firing the remaining bullets in his clip. Eleanor grabbed him by the head and, using a downward push of her telekinesis, slammed him into the floor. The man's head cracked open like an egg, tiles shattering.
Dozens of patients were crying or wheezing from fright. Panic would soon spread throughout the hospital.
Eleanor took the man's jacket off, her lithe body bleeding and swelling here and there. "A girl can't even get dressed up!" She heard footfall echoing from both directions, accompanied by the sounds of cocking slides. "Aw, shit!" Eleanor looked for her gown, covering her little tits.
Unfortunately, two groups of grey men appeared, from either end of the hallway, all armed with suppressed pistols or Uzis. Eleanor had two choices: grab her gown, or a pistol. "You can't be serious!?" she hissed, choosing the pistol, caught in a crossfire with nothing but her panties.
As bullets and patients shrieked everywhere, Eleanor had no choice but to disappear. She reappeared at the main floor, grimacing as pain in her head intensified. "Plasmids need more time..." She overheard panic spreading throughout the floors of the hospital. But, at least she was safe for now.
"Dammit! There has to be something to wear, somewhere!" Eleanor whined, an arm over her breasts. She looked for a shirt, or anything, really. Even a towel would be better than nothing! Alas, there was nothing in sight. Her teeth clenched. "UGHHH! Fuck's sssake!"
Sensing that the grey men were running down the stairs, Eleanor knew she had to get out of here. She made claws with her, a few flames briefly sputtering out, but not much else. She sighed. "Hm. I can't risk using fiery Plasmids, otherwise I risk burning down the hospital." So, she darted toward the exit—a rush of wind echoed, lifting Eleanor, the bandages over her eye and back of her head peeling off. She found herself floating, limbs immobile, topless body exposed to the hospital as her body formed an aura of yellow cracks.
"Oh, no! No, no, no, no, no!" She had no idea what was going on, but she could barely move, as if disabled by this...force. Eyes big and shiny, her stomach whirled with shame and her skin crawled with helplessness.
One by one, the men in grey rushed out the stairs, storming the bottom floor and instantly opening fire at the disabled Eleanor. Bullets grazed her mostly naked body, others zipping past her ears. Eleanor managed to point her pistol and fire back; she shot two men in the chest, and they pulled out of the gunfight, a third shot in the head and going limb.
Once the floating effect ended, Eleanor dropped her empty pistol and hit the floor, landing on all fours like a cat. She spun around, throwing a ring of purple psychokinetic power at the gang. Most of them were hurled off their feet, guns and hats flying as well.
"Don't let her get away!" one of the men shouted as he picked himself up.
Taking the advantage, Eleanor used her telekinesis to pull an Uzi towards herself, which she caught midair and opened fire at her pursuers. Most of them dove to the sides or hit the floor, returning fire as they dove. One of them stuck his hand out, hand blackening and fingers looking skeletal, and some sort of fiery orb formed. He seemed to be unharmed by Eleanor's gunfire, and then he threw the orb at Eleanor. It exploded in her face, staggering her.
After emptying her Uzi's clip, Eleanor threw it at an attacker's face then ran for the doors, slamming into them—locked. She unlocked them using her telekinetic Plasmid, then opened the doors and...paused, bullets spraying all around her... "Oh god, I can' believe I'm doing this..."
Dozens of late night people had gathered outside the hospital, some drivers stopping their cars to see what was going on. The citizens kept their distance and wondered why there was so much noise. Some hospital patients were screaming out their windows for help.
"What the heck's going on?"
"Did the Mafia enter the hospital or something?"
"Oh, my! when will the police come?"
Amidst murmuring, the crowd saw Eleanor running down the street with nothing but her panties, hands over her breasts.
This is, undoubtedly...the most embarrassing moment in my life...
Good thing Father wasn't here to see her like that.
The men in grey ran after Eleanor, soon firing down the streets. People screamed and ran off, cars' tires screeching, night traffic swerving. Nevertheless, Eleanor outran her pursuers, hearing bullets hitting cars, windows, and streetlights behind her. "These men are insane!"
Skidding around a corner, Eleanor put her back against a wall. Panting heavily, she felt blood leak out her nose, mouth, head, chest, back, and thighs. She had been peppered by bullets, covered with red holes and swelling spots.
She groaned. Eleanor slumped, her bare back raking down the wall, feeling her spine and skin scrape, smearing blood. Eleanor felt her panties soak with blood, a puddle of red forming under her little butt. She did not even have the energy to cover her tits, but the cool night air felt good over her skin. Her arms went limp, breathing slowing.
I need to act fast...
Eleanor's purple psychokinetic ring appeared around her, forming into a sphere. She winced, moaning as her telekinesis ripped bullets out her body, dinging as they hit the concrete. Bullets had pierced her flesh, but failed to break her bones. In fact, many bullets were smooshed.
"Oh my, are you all right?" a man asked, walking to Eleanor with his head high, seemingly oblivious to everything.
"Go away..." Eleanor replied weakly but sternly. Her eyes went big—the man pushed her down and mounted her. After a second, she realized what he was trying to do.
"I like hot girls," the man remarks like a stupid boy.
Eleanor growled. "Get...OFF ME!" She threw him over.
He landed facedown, hat falling off, he quite confused. When he looked up, a big fiery mass plowed into him.
"And I like hot guys," Eleanor remarked as the man engulfed into flames, screaming for as long as he had air in his lungs.
As the flames ate away his clothes and skin, his scream died out. He sharply inhaled but just sucked smoke and fire. Suffocation while burning to death meant he could only weakly writhe. Eleanor did not care, and limped away grumpily, hearing the crackling body be consumed by fire.
Several passersby ran away from Eleanor, and police sirens screamed in the distance.
"Ugh...I don't want to deal with people..." Eleanor groaned, her natural painkiller wearing off. She looked up, and got an idea; a car screeched to a halt. The driver lowered his window.
"Dear God! Are you okay? What happened to you?" he asked, then looked at the flaming corpse and, tires burning, sped off.
Eleanor reappeared, now alone, the echoes of sirens rising from below. She walked to a ledge, leaving behind bloody footprints. She looked down, several hundred feet between her and the roads below. She stood atop a skyscraper, blood leaking down her wounds, a breeze causing her dark hair to flow.
Noticing something mysterious, Eleanor looked up, brushing hair from her eye. She saw the moon, and just stared at it.
"Hunh...it's beautiful." She sat down and breathed slowly, patiently waiting for her EVE to restore.
Once able, Eleanor teleported from skyscraper to skyscraper, rooftop to rooftop. She had much more privacy this way! She reached another drop-off at a skyscraper, a breeze cooling her down. She smirked. Being topless above the city...feels great.
Gradually, her wounds stopped bleeding. She channeled her EVE into her sea slug, now regenerating, injuries gluing themselves together.
I feel my eyeball will remain missing for a while, though...
Before sunrise, Eleanor teleported into a clothes store. She really had no choice but to take a few things without permission. She slipped on some casual clothing: white socks, blue shirt, new undergarments, jeans (that make her butt look good), and helped herself to a nice pair of leather shoes and a short dark brown jacket that matched her hair.
"Now, I actually look American, hee hee..." Eleanor checked herself out in a mirror. She still looked quite beat up... "Nah, I look sexy!" She teleported back to the rooftops.
Amidst Eleanor's teleportations, the sun was beginning to rise. She sensed something...strange. She does not really know what this feeling is, but it seems...familiar? Staring off into the first rays of the sun, Eleanor decided she has to follow this feeling.
Looking over the ledge of the building, Eleanor was rather surprised to see a grey car slowly driving along. It's the same one as before... Eleanor grunted. "Do they just know where I am? Who are they..."
After a routine of teleporting and waiting, Eleanor soon lost the grey car. She cannot see it anywhere, but then another grey car slowly drove along. Her eyebrows furrow, her fists clench. "Hunh. They definitely have an idea of where I am...but how?" Eleanor went along the rooftop and teleported yet again.
Eventually, Eleanor sensed her destination, whatever it could be. She teleported amidst a rather shoddy neighbourhood, looking around. No grey cars. Good.
Following her instinct, Eleanor teleported into one of the homes, a small but nice one. She looked around, no one anywhere, save for a man sitting in a chair. That is, he was also tied to the chair, a sackcloth over his head with a red hole in the front. Blood was dripping over his lap, and on the floor, another Pinkerton badge sat.
"Looks like gangs on the surface are no better than Rapture's," Eleanor whispered, then heard something. She goes upstairs to investigate, occasionally hearing sharp breaths and moaning. "Sounds like someone's being tortured."
Eleanor burst into the bedroom, ready to rip out someone's throat. Instead, she sees two people in bed gasp aloud, the woman on top and quickly lifting up the blankets to cover herself.
Eleanor paused mid-rear, head tilted back, eyes big, eyebrows crooked, mouth open, disgust clearly written on her face. Eleanor's surprise turned to anger as she leaned forwards, hands clenched until her knuckles cracked. "Mom!"