And the GREAT MYSTERIOUS plasmid rip-off isss...... biotics, from Mass Effect, (or at least a modified form – it's like slightly advanced telekinesis). The Force is very close, but that'd make Green insanely powerful. I mean, shooting lightning, ninja jumps, and force throwing his drill?
... actually, maybe I should go down that route ^_^
Anyway, just to reiterate, I don't own anything in this fiction. Except maybe Green and Wallace. Hope you enjoy!
******
Family.
He felt more comfortable in his body now, with both limitations and perks. His suit, his skin, was extremely insensitive to touch, heat, and pressure, though moderately with pain. Generally, he would feel faint prickly sensations when he touched or held anything, but he would certainly know if he had been damaged. His breathing felt easy, with air constantly being fed by the tank he carried, though he had no sense of smell (the Bouncer wouldn't know, as you can't miss what you never had). He knew fluids were being pumped into his system; presumably from another tank on his body, and his vision through the eight portholes were comfortable. Just the way it should be.
Wallace had found another tiny ADAM vial along the way, and had just finish injecting himself with the sweet, sickly red liquid. He instantly calmed down; a few minutes ago he was beginning to get jittery, although he had been rather quiet and distant since meeting Joe, the Spider, a second time. The Big Daddy appreciated the silence (for once), but even he was beginning to feel that it was too quiet. The splicer also took the liberty of clearing the rubble (where possible) in the Bouncer's path, although Green simply groaned at him each time. It was utterly unnecessary and silly. The last couple of ADAM vials must have been dodgy. Rather abruptly, his musings became interrupted, as Wallace spoke up casually as ever:
"So, w'at happens when ya needa go? Y'know... nature stuff. Like crappin'."
Of all the questions... the Bouncer was now sure that Wallace had injected himself with something nasty. He continued his slow lumbering steps as he pondered on this; his limbs absolutely refusing to move any faster, as there was no need to. He wasn't sure of the answer; the only urges he had thus far were drilling the faces of attackers.
Silence ensued, and the splicer had just found some coffee lying on the floor, though the coffee must had gone bad a long time ago. But beggars cannot be choosy, and splicers seem to have rather strong stomachs.
"Mm-hm, figured ya'd say as much. Well, lemme put it up for yah," he paused, downing the coffee in one swift gulp. "Seein' that you Daddies can't eat, y'know, b'sides them Alphas, yer helmet's pretty much stuck on. So ya must be gettin' yer fuel or nutrients or w'atever from all them gizmoes on yer back. Ya probably don't needa crap or piss, 'cause yer body processin' everythin' efficiently. Get me?"
Green had not considered that, though he couldn't imagine why he would... it seemed so... trivial. He grunted curtly, at least he should say he heard the splicer.
******
It was amazing that the Atlantic Express was still functional, although Wallace had explained that a certain 'Delta' had breathed new life into the derelict system. Green had no real direction in where he was going; only that his feet carried him onwards. Wallace didn't seem to question Green, although one would suppose that, after sparing his life, he wasn't in the position of being critical. That, and the Bouncer was very well equipped to fend off attackers.
Pauper's Drop. A place that shouldn't be part of the Great Chain, but there it was, with flaming barrels and litter scattered everywhere, wooden planks hammered haphazardly into various structures, and doors wrapped over and over with chains and locks. Perhaps, in its ruined state, it appeared to be such a pitiful place. But it was hard to imagine how much better the place could have been, during the Golden Time. At least it had a high ceiling.
A shadow moved in the corner of Green's eye(s); something was on the rooftops. But his body ordered him to be complacent, and he found himself unable to resist, despite his mind being slightly more alert. No matter, Green had begun to trust his instincts; should anything happen, he would be able to react in a split second. Wallace planted his face on a window, as he had just used his final EVE hypo, and for obvious reasons, was scoping out for any signs of EVE, or better yet, ADAM.
"NO! What have you done?!" cried a woman somewhere, which was followed by a soft, dissonant moan. Was there... sobbing? Something crashed, and Green could tell that it was scampering off on the rooftops again. Did it pause for a moment, noticing the duo?
"Tha' voice... it can't be. Rapture knows tha' voice damn well..." exclaimed Wallace, surprise covering his features.
"There there, sweetheart... it'll be okay..."
Trusting his ears, Green stomped towards the sound of the voice, and the... sobbing? The sobs were triggering something in his body; something that sent tremors of fear throughout his entire being. He wasn't sure if Wallace followed, or was left behind – but he should be fine.
Ignoring everything in his path, the Big Daddy roared as he crashed into a room, a few pieces of debris accelerating in front of him as he stopped. Two figures stood in front of him; an African-American elderly woman, who looked very... normal, dressed in yellow with a walking stick, and a small tiny figure that huddled closed to the woman's leg, in a light pink dress.
"Get BACK, Tin Daddy! This ain't your daughter, you hear! You GET out, NOW! You h... ?!"
The woman's voice faded into the background, as the world seemed to have focused itself on the tiny figure by the lady's leg. She was... crying, holding a hand to her eyes, wiping away the tears and to shut out the world. She sobbed, and Green swore his heart (or hearts?) skipped, his entire body trembled with sorrow and... pain. He must hold her... he must...!
What followed was a blur. The Bouncer did not realised it, but he had brutally shoved the elderly woman aside with his left hand; she must have fallen, but that seemed... unimportant right now. The little one shrieked. Green shuddered more, fear gripping his mind and body; his heart(s) pumped so much fluid, that it could explode. No...! NO! It's okay... it's okay... he wanted to say, as soft moans left his mouth.
The little one squirmed as the Big Daddy picked her up gently; he had not known he could handle such a delicate thing so well. He couldn't feel her; the pressure of her body on his suit, his skin was so light that he couldn't feel her, but his body knew. His body knew what to do. She was the prettiest thing he could have possibly imagined; a light pink dress, her auburn hair tied back into a ponytail, her face smooth with rosy cheeks, albeit a bit dirty. The Big Daddy was in ecstasy, such a beautiful thing should... no, needs protection... forever.
And the the little one screamed, "PUT MEE DOOOWWWNNN!" she wailed, tears constantly streaming down her eyes, "WAAAHHH, I WANT MY MOMMY!! MOOOMMMMYYYY!!!"
His vision refocused, and then the world returned to normal. In Green's left hand, was a little girl, no older than five; her eyes were a beautiful blue, covered in tears. Something was... wrong. This was not... his? He sucked in a breath, eyes darting all over the place. This was not... his...
"Sorry big bud, but I reckon there ain't no Lil Sis 'round no more." a voice came from behind.
Wallace? Green's eyes were still transfixed on the crying little figure his hand. He did not want to let go. But it felt wrong.
"Lemme help ya up. God, ya're one lucky woman, Grace Holloway."
"I don't count my luck being up," she struggled with Wallace's help. "You UNHAND that child RIGHT NOW!" the woman cried, as she swung her stick at the Bouncer's back, completely devoid of fear.
"What th'... stop tha', lady! Ya fuckin' nuts?! Don't piss him off!"
"I died a long time ago, Wallace! I ain't afraid to die another time!" she cried, swinging futilely at the behemoth. Green did not even notice the weak pings of Holloway's stick against his armour. But heard her, he did.
Very slowly, he turned around to face the singer; his lights were still a neutral yellow, as he gently extended his hand and offered the still sobbing girl to the elderly lady. She reached up, and gently took the girl away with both hands, cooing as she did so. The Bouncer flicked his lights green, and moaned sternly at Holloway, as the little girl's hand left his.
Switching his lights back to yellow, he flexed his fingers and stood perfectly still. In his mind, he began to replay all of Lee's audio recordings, seeking... comfort. But one line kept repeating.
She was not his.
******
Okay, so I tried my hand at making a more emotional chapter. It's a bit shorter than the others, but it felt right for me to end it right there. Anyway, I'd like to know your thoughts!