Disclaimer: I don't own Bioshock or any of the characters

Three days. She'd been cowering in the corner for three full days. Too terrified of the outside world to leave. Too terrified of him to stay. The girl had spent all her time huddled in a heap, whimpering in fear each time he'd tried to come close. The display might have been moving to some, but Davian was quickly getting annoyed by it. He was supposed to be a survivor, not some generous soul who donated their last scraps to the ungrateful sods who didn't bother to work for it.

Some part of his mind blamed her for getting him shot. It was stupid to do so, but that didn't stop him. After all, if she'd had the common sense to stop struggling when he pulled her out of that mess they both would have gotten off scot free. Not to mention even after he'd saved her she still looked at him as though he were some kind of demon.

It was for that reason he did his best to ignore her. It wasn't that hard either. She stayed out of his way, never moving from that corner. Never crossing his path or trying to interfere with his business. That couldn't last forever.

It was on the third day that he noticed something different. She was crying. This in itself was no surprise. She'd often broken down into tears when he ventured too close. However, this wasn't the loud panicked crying of a terrified child. No, this was much softer. Much more helpless.

When he looked over to see what could have sparked this expression of misery, he saw her curled up in a ball and clutching her stomach as though she was in pain.

He'd grown so used to her being out of the way that he'd forgotten she still needed to eat.

This was a problem. Davian's food reserves had never been high, and he was loath to waste any of the precious commodity on her. Why should he? She had done nothing to earn his good will. He'd already gone out of his way to help her once, and look how that had turned out.

But as he heard her crying, he knew he would give in. He might be overly practical, perhaps even cruel at times, but letting a little girl starve to death in his own home went beyond that. It was the kind of thing a splicer would do. He refused to believe he'd fallen that far.

With the depressing knowledge that he was likely making a mistake, Davian fished a can of dried fruits out of his pantry. How many artificial preservatives were needed to keep said fruit edible for so long was a question best left unanswered.

The girl was so caught up in her own little world of suffering that she didn't notice his approach until he was practically on top of her. She immediately flinched backwards, pushing herself into the wall as though she believed she could disappear if she did it hard enough.

Suppressing a sigh, Davian pried the top of the can off with an old knife he'd repossessed from a rather bloated splicer.

"Here." He said, holding out the can. She simply stared back at him uncomprehending.

"You're hungry aren't you?" He demanded. His tone might have been a bit harsher than was necessary, but at this point he was still frustrated by her lack of cooperation. "Eat. You know how to do that right?"

It was odd looking at her glaringly yellow eyes. They held no pupils, and yet still managed to express a surprising amount of emotion. Right now, he could see her desperation for any sort of food battling with her fear of him.

Realizing there was only one way to solve this; Davian shook his head and set the can down in front of her. Without bothering to watch her reaction, he strode out of the room to get back to business. He checked back on her about an hour later. She was still huddled in her chosen corner, but the can was empty.

For a while, the two of them simply coexisted by avoiding each other. He would set down food when she looked hungry, and she would occasionally venture out of her corner to explore the confines of his home. The fear was still there, but it was nowhere near as strong.

"What's your name?" He asked one day. The question had been bothering him for some time, and he had finally decided that he would have to speak with her eventually if she were to stay.

Not expecting the question, she jumped at the sound of his voice. Davian resisted the urge to roll his eyes while she struggled to form an answer.

When it became clear that she wouldn't be answering him verbally any time soon, she just shook her head.

"You don't want to tell me?" He asked. "Or do you not remember?"

"I d-don't… remember…" The stammered reply came out raw and scratchy. Having spent so much time in mournful silence, her voice was faltering.

He frowned at that. Despite himself, the young man couldn't help but feel a small shred of sympathy. He knew that the mental conditioning little sisters went through took their minds, but to even rob them of their names? It just felt… wrong.

"Do you remember anything about it?" He questioned, hoping for some reason that there was at least some shred of her former self buried beneath those eyes.

The girl shifted uncomfortably under his gaze.

"Um... I-I think… a little bit…" She couldn't have sounded less sure if she tried. For several moments she sat silently mouthing the sounds of words before answering.

"W-W… Eeeehn… Evree… Uh… Wheeeenerrv… G-G-G…" By this point she was holding the sides of her head as though trying to recall her name was physically painful.

"Wren? Is that what you were trying to say?" He interjected, not wanting her to harm herself.

She gave a small shrug of her shoulders. It probably wasn't her real name, but he couldn't think of what else could possibly fit with the noises she had been making.

"Well… don't worry about it. How about I just call you Wren. Would that work?" He said, giving the name as a kind of peace offering.

She looked back at him with a hesitant hope in her expression. Though not consciously, they could both recognize the significance of what was happening. Bonds in Rapture mostly took the form of alliances of convenience, but this was stronger than that. In offering her a name he was creating a connection between the two of them. From that point forward, she could no longer stay a simple Adam carrier in his eyes.

Slowly, she nodded.

Everything hurt. It was the kind of pain that sank past skin and muscle, burrowing into the very foundations of your bones. Davian couldn't even bring himself to remember the cause. Vague images of being supported by Amelia flittered through his mind, but he lacked the willpower to hold onto them.

A blurry image slowly came into focus. He saw a large splicer carrying dual hatchets bearing down on him. His body wouldn't respond. He was a prisoner, watching helplessly as the man drew closer.

What had happened? Was he dead?

Maybe he was. Maybe this was hell, or purgatory, or wherever it was people ended up to suffer for the sins they committed during their lifetime. It sure hurt enough for that to be the case.

His isolated suffering was interrupted by a very unwelcome presence.

Well, that was fun wasn't it?

The sensation of having the voice speak to him sent a painful migraine shooting through his skull. With a groan, Davian tried to shy away from it.

Hmmm? If I didn't know better I'd think you didn't enjoy our little outing as much as I did.

There was no escape from it. There never was. No matter how hard he struggled to be rid of the damned thing, he could never seem to escape it.

You should probably consider getting up now. Wouldn't want to worry your 'friends'.

The presence began to pull away, but Davian surprised himself by refusing to let it leave.

Wait!

As ludicrous as it sounded to actually keep the freakish thing around, he had questions that he needed answered.

What do you want now? Do you need to have another philosophical debate over the worth of life, or is this something more practical?

What are you?

The question gave it pause. Davian could practically feel its surprise. It was something he'd never asked, never wanted to know, but now it was all he could think about. In all the time he had been subject to the voice, he never once had sought to find out where it had come from. After a long moment of silence, it gave its response.

You already know the answer to that.

If I knew the answer, I wouldn't be asking! It was incredibly frustrating to have his question dodged in such a way. He was having none of it.

You know more than you think. Try remembering the first time we spoke. If that doesn't answer your question, I don't know what will.

Without giving him a chance to protest, it disappeared. Davian was once again drifting in the confines of his burning prison alone. This time however, there was a small sliver of consciousness edging into his field of vision. Instinctively, he reached towards it and pulled himself out of the mire.

A moan of pain tore itself from his chest as he cracked one eye open. The blurry mash of colors slowly formed into the shape of a hospital room. Pale white walls surrounded him, and a deceptively clean bend was underneath his form. In all his time in Rapture, he'd rarely come across a room that looked so orderly.

"Oh, you're awake. Good, I was starting to get concerned."

With a supreme effort of will, Davian turned his head a couple inches to the left in order to find the source of the voice. A young man he didn't recognize, dressed in a white doctor's coat that matched the color of the walls, was observing him. On closer inspection, the man's eyes had dark circles underneath them and he looked as though he'd been taking on a workload far heavier than he was used to.

"How are you feeling? Are you in any pain? Is there any symptoms you can tell me about?"

Davian's initial response to the string of questions went about as well as could be expected given how run down he was feeling.

"Wahfmmed?"

The doctor raised an eyebrow.

"I'm sorry, could you repeat that?" He asked. "I didn't quite catch what you were saying."

"What… happened…?" Davian forced out. His throat was uncomfortably dry.

The young man directed a glance towards a clock on the wall. He scratched his cheek in silent contemplation before turning back to answer.

"I'm afraid I don't have the time to explain everything to you." He apologized. "But you do have a couple visitors who might be able to fill you in. Are you feeling well enough to see them?"

He wasn't, but his need for answers took priority.

"I'm fine." he mumbled, telling one of the least convincing lies of his life. "Go ahead and send them in."

With a nod, the doctor strode out of the room and closed the door behind him. The silence left Davian to wonder just what had gone on in the past several hours. He felt like crap, that was for sure. His muscles burned as though he'd come close to going through Adam withdrawal but that couldn't be the case could it? He would be in MUCH worse shape if he'd gone that far.

A few minutes later, the door opened up to reveal the people who'd been waiting for him to wake up. Archer and Amelia worked their way inside. For reasons he couldn't understand, they both seemed hesitant. Almost fearful. For a moment he thought he was just imagining it, but as they took a seat beside his bed it became much more apparent.

"Hey sleeping beauty." Archer greeted. "You look like shit." The good natured jab had a bit of forced humor to it, almost as if it was more reflex than anything.

"Heh. You would know." Davian retorted, trying to give some sort of a half-smile to ease the tension but abandoning it when the action sent a wave of stinging pain through his face. "Would someone mind filling me in? I feel like a Rumbler started using me for target prac… tice…"

His sentence trailed off when he caught sight of Amelia. The big sister had been staying at a distance, almost warily away from him.

"Oh my god…"

She was dressed in her armor still, or at the very least most of it. Even from this distance it was obvious that her helmet had been torn off. Her face was sporting several large blackish bruises, and to make matters worse she had a large raw mark around her neck.

That wasn't all either. The gloves of her suit had been removed, revealing hands that were covered in bandages. Considering how quickly the big sisters could heal, the damage must have been severe.

"Who did this…?" There were plenty of times Davian had been angry in the past. He'd been furious at splicers for trying to harm Wren. He'd been enraged with himself when he'd decided to leave his sister behind.

This was different.

Though no less intense then previous times, this anger wasn't the cold, biting sensation of mixed hate and contempt. This was burning hot, like molten lead flowing through his veins. Seeing Amelia's face in such a damaged state made him want to tear Rapture apart looking for the sick bastard that had the sheer audacity to hurt her. He wanted to coat the walls in a fresh shade of red.

"You don't remember, do you?" Archer ventured, looking very uncomfortable all of a sudden. "You sure you want that question answered?"

"Shut up and tell me." Even Davian was surprised by the amount of venom in his tone. Struggling into a sitting position, he locked eyes with the young man to ensure he knew how serious this was. "Whoever it was just officially made my hit list."

"Yea… about that…"

Both Archer and Amelia shared a look he didn't understand. After a moment, she nodded apparently giving him permission to fill in the details on his own.

"After we got split up, Tomas and I were jumped by a couple of splicer thugs." He began. "Long story short, we got away but my ears were blasted pretty badly. We were headed for the train station, or at least I think we were. Couldn't hear a thing Tomas was telling me. Anyway, we were headed out when we ran across the two of you in a hallway."

Archer looked like he was about to crack a joke, but stopped himself before he could. That probably wasn't a good sign.

"You had this really weird look in your eyes, almost like one of the crazies that run around in the seedier parts of the city."

A cold sense of dread settled into Davian's body as he realized where this was going.

"I don't know what was going on, being deafened and all, but all of a sudden you took this long piece of metal and just went nuts on her. It would have been badass if you hadn't been kicking the crap out of someone on our side."

The news hit him like a sledgehammer.

"I did this…?"

One look at both their faces made it painfully, irrefutably clear that there was no second guessing it. He'd lost control. All he could remember was drifting in and out of awareness, stumbling along next to Amelia. After that, the voice had spoken to him…

That was it, wasn't it? That was when he lost himself. He remembered the way the voice had slowly stolen his body from him. But that didn't make any damned sense! It wasn't supposed to be able to do that! Was it able to take over because he'd been so out of sorts? That couldn't be right either. He'd come close to the brink before and it had never done anything like that. Admittedly it hadn't ever been quite as bad as now.

"What about the others?" Davian asked. "Did I hurt them too?" He could already see the gruesome image in his mind. It terrified him far more than anything else he'd seen in the past.

"No, Tomas stuck you with a needle before you could go full psycho." Archer assured. "Well, more full psycho at least." He paused, his voice taking on a more serious tone. "Gregory didn't make it though. We picked up your little sister along the way, and from what she told us it sounds like he ran into trouble also. Don't mention it to Tomas. The two of them were friends and he's been taking it pretty hard."

The information took a second to sink in. As stupid as it sounded, he'd come to assume that they would all be making it out alive no matter what job they were up against. It was a childish and naive thing to do, but he'd let himself do it all the same.

As cold as it sounded, he couldn't let himself dwell on the doctor's death when there was a more immediate concern sitting right in front of him.

"Amelia, I'm…"

What could he possibly say? That he was sorry? What good was sorry after he'd apparently beaten her within an inch of her life? Not to mention he'd destroyed her helmet. Again. He wasn't even sure how he'd managed to do that.

The big sister leaned forward, resting he elbows on the edge of the bed. Her hands were still held in the air to avoid having them touch the fabric. Her eyes locked onto his in a meaningful gaze. As mad as it sounded, he thought he could almost tell what she was trying to say.

I won't hold it against you this time. She seemed to think. But if you ever do it again, I'll hurt you. Badly.

Sensing the serious nature of the atmosphere, Archer decided that now was the time to try lightening the mood.

"It isn't all bad." He said, putting on a smile that was only half forced. "On the bright side, you managed to win the bet. Which means you'll be getting paid, and you won't have to cover for him." He chuckled lightly, elbowing Amelia in the side.

Of course, it was only after the words had left his mouth that he remembered she hadn't been aware of the bet.

"Whoops…"

"You unbelievable son of a-" A light growl cut off Davian's outburst as Amelia directed a questioning glare his way. He wished he still had that metal rod they had been talking about. It would have been so very satisfying to cave Archer's skull in right now.

She leaned forward, her gaze demanding answers.

"…I don't want to tell you…" He offered feebly. It only caused her glare to deepen. "…You'll hurt me if I do." From the look on her face, it was becoming very clear that she would hurt him if he didn't also.

"Oh, would you look at the time." Archer said, quickly rising from his seat. "I really should be going. Important business and all that stuff."

He was about halfway across the room when the door slammed shut. A small click signaled that it had been locked, cutting off all hope of escape.

"Oh come on!" He exclaimed. "You can't lock a door with telekinesis! It isn't that precise!"

She ignored the sounds of his protest, as well as the noise of him desperately trying to pry the door open. Her gaze once again fell on Davian. A better man might have decided to take all the blame onto himself, but if he was about to die he'd sure as hell drag Archer down with him.

"We had a bit of a wager…" He began, getting the uncanny felling that those words would be carved into his gravestone. "Archer kind of ditched me to pay the bill the last time we stopped at the bar. After that I had no money left, so… we uh… decided that if I managed to kill more of those bees than he did, he would pay me pack triple what he owes me."

When he paused to gather his nerve, she impatiently gestured for him to keep going. She knew full well that there were two sides to any bet.

"If I lost… which I'd like to point out that I didn't! But in the nearly impossible scenario that I did… I had to get you to… well… kiss him."

Her expression remained in the exact same image that it had been in the whole time. In fact, her entire body seemed to be held in place as though it had been frozen solid. Neither Davian nor Archer dared to move, for fear of attracting the attention of a no doubt enraged big sister.

Not for the first time, Davian cursed his 'friend's' lack of self-control.

Very, very, slowly, Amelia began lowering her head. Her face hidden from sight, the two of them could only imagine what was going on. Neither of them expected what happened next.

Her body started shaking. Very lightly, almost imperceptible. After several seconds of this, an incredibly strange sound worked its way from her chest. Halfway between a choking noise and a gasp for air, it was something Davian had only heard once before.

She was laughing.

Before either of them could react, her elbow smacked down on his midsection. The impact sent him into a coughing fit, which was made rather painful by the soreness that still pervaded his body.

Archer wasn't spared either. Amelia's foot shot out, delivering a very hard kick to his shin. Not enough to break anything, but more than enough to cause him to start hopping around on one foot while shouting curses. As was inevitable, he soon came crashing to the ground when he bumped into the side of the bed and lost his balance.

Amelia just sat back in her seat, still laughing and shaking her head at their stupidity.

"I deserved that…" Davian gasped, struggling to get his breathing back into a regular pattern.

"I didn't!" Archer objected, now sitting on the floor while cradling his injured foot. "He was the one dumb enough to accept, all I did was make the offer!" His protests earned him a second kick to his surviving shin.

Ten minutes later found the three of them sitting together once more. Archer had filled Davian in on some of the details he'd missed both during his blackout on the mission, and while he was unconscious afterwards. He'd been out for the better part of a day.

Wren was currently being looked after by Joseph. Or at least that's what Archer claimed. From what information he had given, it looked as though he'd dropped Wren in front of his brother's workshop, knocked on the door, and walked away. It was times like this that Davian was very glad his older sibling had been female.

"Anyway, according to what Xavier says you should be back on your feet in no time." Archer assured. "In the meantime, is there anything I can get you? Except for the money. I don't have it yet. I'll get it to you tomorrow, I promise. Next week at the latest."

There was one thing that he needed. It was something he had been putting off, but after seeing firsthand what the voice had done he couldn't ignore it anymore.

"Yea, I need a favor." Davian said. "Back in my room, there's a blue vial containing a plasmid. I need you to bring it to me."

"A plasmid?" Archer questioned. "Are you sure that's a good idea? I mean, no offence but you're kind of pushing your luck as is."

He shook his head.

"It's something from Tenenbaum. She tells me it won't do any more damage." Now came the hard part. "I also need you to bring Wren here. It's important and it has to do with her."

Both Archer and Amelia gave him a questioning look.

"Trust me." Davian said. "I'll explain everything once she's here."