A/N: Heeey… Yeah. Sorry about that crappy last chapter, and then not updating for that huge stretch of time. If there were any way for me to update you guys without uploading a new chapter, it would have been done : P
In short, what I want to say is that I won't be updating every single week, anymore. I've run out of chapters in my stockpile, so things are only going to get updated when I'm done and happy with them (unless I decide to stop uploading for a while so I can start stockpiling, again). It'll still only get updated on Sundays.
I just wanted to update you guys, since people are probably starting to think I've given up on this, heh… I haven't given up – I'm just trying to get over some pretty gnarly roadblock (which sucks, since one of my favorite parts is about to come up…)
I'm not a huge fan of this chapter either, but hey - We're getting there : )
16
An Atlantic Express Train Station
They both really believed it, at least for a few minutes – They really believed that it was Wayne Coleman on the other end of the radio. In fact, Holly looked as though she were ready to destroy the service radio in Jack's hands just to avoid listening to the man with a southern twang. Not that he could blame her… He was practically ready to toss the radio into the pooled water under the tracks of the train himself. He'd rather lose the radio than be roped into something else for Coleman.
"Listen," The voice called out, keeping a very calm, very pleasant, tone. "I know you're there, sport. I've been tryin' to get through to you for hours – Least you could do is actually respond. Sofia Lamb's got your ears plugged and your eyes covered… I doubt she's even let Wales talk to you, again – And let me tell you, that man is dying to have another chat with you. I may be the only radio contact you have until you're out of Lamb's jurisdiction."
That… wasn't right. The man on the other side of the line couldn't possibly have been Coleman. Wayne Coleman was dead, first of all. Second of all, there was, in no way, any possibility of Coleman being this kind without soliciting something out of the duo. Even upon realizing this, Holly still burned holes in the radio that Jack held. There really was no hint of trust Holly could possibly offer the mysterious voice.
"… Who's this?" Understandably, Jack didn't have the urge to get all warm and cuddly with a stranger. "Who's speaking?"
"Well, it's about time…!" The voice exclaimed in an almost good-natured tone. "What took you so long?" The man didn't sound angry, just genuinely curious. When he didn't get an answer, he continued without hesitation. "The name's Augustus Sinclair – Esquire. And you must be this 'messiah' everybody's talkin' about."
"'Jack' is fine, thanks."
"Ha… I figured that's got to be why Lamb's got you under lock and key. You're no messiah, sport, you're just a man. You know that, she knows that, and that's why she tried to kill you…" The man, 'Sinclair', paused thoughtfully. "Now, who's that sweet face you're travelin' with, then?"
"Would it make any difference if you knew?"
"No… but it would quench my curiosity."
Jack glanced at Holly, who shook her head curtly. "Sorry, pal – Not today."
"That's too bad… Not to sound over-dignified, or anythin', but I really ought to ask: Why are you so off-handed, sport?"
"I've had a long day. I've learned quite some time ago that radio messages tend to make things worse." All Jack wanted to do was go home and see his girls, but everyone in Rapture seemed to have different plans for him… "What do you want?"
"What do I want?" Sinclair sounded confused. "Well… nothin', actually. I mean, a thank you, maybe - Those supplies you got didn't just come outta nowhere. But there's nothin' else you can do for me that you haven't already done."
Holly joined Jack by the fire, again, donning an expression of great suspicion. "And what, pray tell, was that?" Any signs of exhaustion seemed to evaporate, with bruised-looking eyes being the only indicator to her lack of sleep.
"Calm down, now, girl…" Sinclair warned lightly. "It's nothin' to get all huffy over. See, there's somethin' you two need to understand: Sofia Lamb lives on the marble pedestal that she's built for herself. What you two did, back there, by survivin' a fight with all the Splicers she sent after you… Well, you've just sawed her little pedestal in half. Really, there isn't much more I could ask for."
"And what exactly does that do for you?"
Sinclair laughed softly. "I think it'll do more than I could hope for. We're in a state of constant war, here, in Rapture. Any help I can get is good. So, on that note…" A snapping sound came from Sinclair's end – It sounded like a cigarette opening. "… I'm actually rather busy, right now, sport. I hate to cut this conversation short, but I have things I need to do. I'm sure you can relate, bein'… whatever, exactly, it is that you are."
"You sound real busy – The way you've just been sitting there, waiting to talk to a couple of schmucks you don't know." To Jack, it sounded like the guy was holed up somewhere safe. Apparently, he was safe enough to lay back with a cigarette to have a chat with someone over the radio. And what could he possibly be busy with that would allow him to do that?
"What?" Another small chuckle from Sinclair's end. "I waited to talk to you because I figured you might like to know that you actually have a friend, down here. Well, that, and… to be honest, I'm rather keen to have a friend that people refer to as a 'messiah'. It might bode over well for the both of us, actually. So whatever you think I'm tryin' to get out of you, you're wrong, sport."
"That's a hard story to choke down, mister. Wanna try again?"
"What more can I say, sport? I'm a businessman. I have to make choices that make my business stronger. It just so happened that those choices helped you and your girl through a tough situation." A smirk entered Augustus Sinclair's voice. "Or did you want me to say that I have you in debt, now? That you oughta work for me until I'm satisfied?"
"Something along those lines…" Past experiences didn't exactly lead the Ryan to expect anything more from the Rapture citizens.
"Listen, sport – I don't think you need anythin' more on your plate. You're already between a rock and a hard place. Do you really want any more problems for you and your girl?"
"What do you want us to say? Thank you?
"It was my pleasure, girl." A flash of annoyance flickered across her face. Evidentially, she was regretting not giving Sinclair her name. "In fact, if you ever need anythin', just give me a shout – Whatever's good for you is good for me."
Ah, Jack scoffed inwardly, there it is… Never were there truer words from a businessman.
"Now, I'm off. I have quite a few things I need to get done. Besides... I'm thinkin' that I'm about to get a lecture from Sophia Lamb herself." Sinclair chuckled again, though there wasn't much humor in it. "Good luck on whatever you're plannin', sport – You'll need it."
The radio crackled for a few moments, and then went completely silent.
Jack took a moment to look at Holly and her reaction before he tucked the radio away. Her pale, oval face was locked in angry, yet thoughtful, expression. It felt like she was no longer looking at Jack, but staring through him – She was lost in her own mind, with eyes that did little to conceal her thoughts. She was dwelling in her own anger and discomfort.
Finally, she spoke, breaking the rancorous silence. "If we're all done here…" Her voice was distant and soft, but had a slight force behind it. "… then we should be moving on." Her eyes focused on Jack, and she managed to look at him, instead of through him. "… I don't think I can go back to resting, now."
The corner of Jack's mouth lifted ever-so-slightly into a grim smirk. "Funny you say that…" He got to his feet, dusting his hands off. "… I was just about to suggest the exact same thing."
They were eager to just leave all that nonsense behind. Sophia Lamb, Father Wales, Fort Frolic and Medusa's Resort… and that dreaded southern twang. It was no longer a comforting accent to hear… Though it seemed to be everywhere they went. Hopefully that was a trend that would be cut short.
An Atlantic Express Train Station, Airlock Prep Room
The entire process took quite a lot of time, actually.
Getting on the suit, tying up the back of the legs, finding decent enough shoulder cushions that could be used and then inserting them into the suit, prepping and setting the breastplate… not to mention that the duo had to go find a suitable pair of pants for Holly to wear to 'prevent chaffing'. It seemed that the list of things just went on, and on, and on, and on. Holly explained that this was a process meant for two men, not one, and that's why it took so long. Thankfully, there was a lot of the process that was pre-prepared. If there was anything great about Rapture, it's that nobody had wanted to do too much work for anything, and so things were made to be relatively easy. Not that the rest of the city didn't compensate, though…
Despite that, Jack was glad that Holly seemed to know what she was doing, because he sure as Hell did not.
"I read a textbook about it," Holly had easily provided an answer for the question of how she knew so much about diving. "Actually, I read multiple textbooks. And some instruction manuals. And some pamphlets." She gave Jack a slight smile, raising an eyebrow, as she picked up one of weighted belts to attach to the Ryan's suit. "And maybe I watched all the instructional tapes I could get my hands on."
"Is that the same as actually going out in the North Atlantic Ocean in a diving suit?"
"Well… clearly, it's not. But that doesn't mean I didn't practice what I've learned."
"You've actually been out there?" Jack nodded to the airlock that was waiting for them on the other side of the room. "On your own? With no one to help you?"
"Once or twice. I've been meaning to do it more than just 'a few' times, but time hasn't really allowed it…"
"So you've definitely done this before…?"
"Of course I have – And I wouldn't be dragging you out there if I didn't know what I was doing… or if we had a choice, for that matter. But we don't. If you really want to get to Lady Sapphire, then this is the only choice we have in reaching her." Making sure that Jack's weighted belt was secure and fully attached, she pulled out a long, dark blue ribbon from a pouch in her utility belt, and started to pull her shoulder-length hair into a short ponytail. "After this, we're still travelling by sea… but you won't have to worry about any suits or lack of air, or decompression, or any of this unpleasant business."
"Good…" Jack huffed half-heartedly. "I'll just be glad to get out of this suit. It weighs a ton, and I'm getting some unpleasant memories that are resurfacing."
"That's about 190 pounds you have on, right now." Holly look highly amused when she glanced back at Jack as she stuffed her frock into the pair of ill-fitting pants she had put on. "Why the bad memories? Did you have bad experiences with diving suits?"
"You could say that…" There was a scar on Jack's throat as a reminder of said 'bad experience'. But at least you could ignore a scar. It's harder to ignore where they were about to venture.
"Well, as long as we move quickly and carefully, we should be just fine. Stick together, don't wander, don't stop to ogle at the scenery, and… don't get the attention of anything that has teeth."
"What about Sapphire's Splicers?" Jack didn't like the idea of meeting one of those things face-to-face, with only water and a diving suit between them. He shuddered at the idea of being attacked out in the ocean.
"They… should leave us alone." Holly cringed slightly. The thought clearly didn't appeal to her, either. "In all likeliness, they'll probably mistake us for Big Daddies. They don't have very good eyesight, anyways."
"What are they?" All that Jack's been able to see of these things were silhouettes – He still had no idea of what they actually looked like, or what they actually were.
"Splicers, obviously. And not very friendly ones…" She tugged at the rebreather's straps, looking up from her suit to Jack. "Can you help me with the rest of this, now? If we can get this all done quickly, then we can get to Sapphire's labs, get the Plasmid, and then get to Sapphire within hours." There was a slight tone of excitement in Holly's voice. A smile split her lips, and, for the first time since Jack met her, Holly looked like a kid again. "We're so close to finishing this…"
They were literally hours away from Sapphire.
Now, they stood inside the airlock as the seawater from the outside filtered in around the duo, getting their bodies accustomed to the temperature and the pressure of the water before they were to enter the sea.
Jack had to force himself to breath slowly. Otherwise, he feared that he may have started hyperventilating. He felt light in the head from the anxiety – Frankly, if it weren't for the cold water that was creeping up to his shoulders, he probably would have fainted. After seeing what those Splicers of Sapphire's could do, Jack couldn't fathom any other reason to entering the open sea… other than desperation, of course.
And, boy, were they desperate.
The water hissed and bubbled around the duo, gradually filling the airlock. Jack looked over at Holly as the water started to devour the extremely weighted helmet he wore. The water was already halfway up Holly's helmet, taking over her face plate. It was too late to protest… not that Jack hadn't tried. Many arguments had been tossed about, but Jack knew he couldn't just abandon Holly to reach Sapphire on his own. He couldn't allow himself to do that. Besides, after everything they'd been through, and the simple fact of just how close they were to Sapphire… it was enough to give Jack hope.
Though it wasn't exactly hope that Jack needed. He needed confidence. He didn't know the first thing about diving, yet there he was, in an airlock, waiting to be released into the sea. What if he slipped and fell down a slope? What if the hose of his rebreather caught on something? What about sharks or eels? What about the Splicers? Or the Big Daddies.
"Oh…" Jack let out a sudden hiss of air, immediately feeling his muscles tense up. "… My poor heart…" He glanced at Holly again. From what Jack could see, Holly was far calmer than he was. It looked like she was talking to herself, as well. All that experience and knowledge would only help her so much.
Before he knew it, the water had fully enveloped both him and Holly. It was reaching for the very top of the airlock. Jack could already feel the faint pressure of the ocean. He felt relieved for two reasons: The first being that his suit wasn't leaking, as he feared it might've; the second being that the airlocks in Rapture were so incredibly intuitive. That didn't stop him from feeling nervous, but… at least it took some pressure off his chest. Relatively speaking.
After a distant-sounding clicking noise somewhere in the mechanisms of the airlock, the huge, engraved metal door slowly started to open.
This is it.
Canandaigua, New York
"Mum!"
Sophie McDonagh hurried down the creaking hallways of the Rianofski Household. In one hand, she held a glass thermometer. With her other hand, she was gently ushering a young, brown-haired girl of about ten years of age. This little girl was periodically using the sleeve of her little white sweater to wipe her nose, and, every time, Sophie would click her tongue and pull the girl's arm away from her face, handing her a tissue that kept getting dropped.
"Betty, please…" Sophie let out an exasperated sigh, picking up the tissue after Betty dropped it once again. Sophie stopped the young girl, manually wiping her nose. Over her shoulder, she shouted "Mum!" She muttered something darkly under her breath, forgetting that a young child was standing right in front of her, and then stopped to eye Betty carefully. "Don't you dare repeat that out loud." She wagged a finger at the young girl. "… Not until you're my age." She quickly straightened her back, nudging Betty to get her going again.
Sophie and her mother had been at the Rianofski Household for less than a week and it was already feeling like a circus. With five children, there was a lot to keep an eye on, and a lot to keep under control.
Elaine McDonagh poked her head out of a doorway at the end of the corridor that Sophie was rushing down. The woman was holding the hand of the youngest of all the girls, Miriam, who held a plastic doll. Elaine looked exhausted. "Yes, darling…?"
"Betty's got a fever."
"What?" Elaine's eyes grew large, and she gently pushed Miriam into the hallway . "Miriam, darling, go play with your sisters…" The little girl, looking slightly disappointed, wandered away in search of her sisters who, by the sound of it, were just down the hall.
Elaine hurried over to Betty, kneeling in front of her. "What's wrong, darling? You've got a runny nose… Are you coughing? Sneezing?"
"That, and she said that her throat is sore." Sophie explained as she watched her mother holding one hand to her own forehead, and one to the young Betty's. "I can't possibly imagine where she could have gotten this from, though…"
With a spurning shove, Betty moved Elaine's hand away from her face, taking a step back. "I'm not sick…" She strongly denied, despite the large sniff that followed.
"Your forehead is burning up, Betty." Elaine pointed out, her tone a mixture of confused and annoyed. Still, she reached for Betty's hand. "You're sick – I'm going to take you to a doct-"
Again, Betty pushed Elaine's hand away. "No!" The girl refused once more. "I'm not sick, and I'm not going with you!" Betty crossed her arms stubbornly. "My daddy always tells us not to go anywhere with someone we don't know…"
At that, Elaine and Sophie exchanged tired looks. This wasn't the first time that Betty has decided to pull the 'strangers' justification. When the McDonaghs first arrived at the country house, Betty wouldn't even eat the meal that was prepared for her and her sisters. The only reason she actually ended up eating it was that Elaine said she would tell the girl's father about her display, which would have upset him greatly. That was a bluff, of course – Bluffing is, after all, what mother's do best…
But, despite showing nothing but a strong motherly kindness for all the girls, there was still a lot of mistrust towards Elaine and Sophie McDonagh. They couldn't entirely be blamed, keeping in mind their histories… But it was highly frustrating, to say the least. Although, in comparison to the rest of the children, Betty seemed to be the only one who didn't want anything at all to do with Elaine and Sophie.
"Now, Betty…" Elaine raised a single eyebrow, giving Betty a mother's signature 'are you sure you really mean that?' look. "I was asked to take care of you and your sisters, and that's exactly what I plan to do. If you don't want me to take you to a doctor, that's perfectly fine – That's only means I'll just have to bring one to you. And I'm sure that your father is going to just love to hear all about this…"
"Go ahead, tell him." Betty lifted her chin with an indignant expression. "He's the one who told us not to talk to strangers, after all."
Elaine got to her feet. "Sophie, would you mind getting me my purse? I have Doctor Ryskind's business card in it."
Sophie nodded, and started to head towards the front door, where her mother's purse was hung up on the coat rack. From behind, she could hear her mother talking to the young Betty.
"Come on, then… You're sick – You need to go rest. You're going to have to stay in bed at least until the doctor gets here."
"I don't want to stay in bed all day…"
Sophie scoffed. Betty wasn't all too much younger than herself – there was a difference of about four or five years - but Sophie still felt that she had the right to claim that she wasn't all too fond of little kids. Too winey. Too… self-righteous. The world revolves around them, and if someone breaks that illusion, they throw a fit.
"Don't do that!" An insulted shout sounded from the room just down the hall. "You're going to ruin it!"
"But she doesn't have enough lipstick!" A defensive shout sounded in response.
Sophie frowned, speeding up to get to the source of the shouting. She stopped in the doorway of a bedroom, looking in at four girls crowded around a large drawing. Miriam sat on the edge of one of the beds, looking at the rest of the girls who sat on the floor. The four girls, Shirley, Donna, and Cecilia, were covered in blotches of light and dark colors. It almost looked like…
"… Is that… makeup?" Sophie breathed, her eyes widening. The girls were covered in it, and the drawing… Sophie's stomach dropped.
It would seem that the girls had decided to use Elaine's makeup to draw the face of a young lady on the pale carpet. Lipstick, eye shadow, and blush had been rubbed right into the carpet, and pants and shirts had been used to make the short hair of the lady.
"Oh dear…" Sophie looked back out into the hallway. "Mum!"
With a blue towel, Elaine McDonagh dried the long, brown hair of Donna, who sat quietly in a chair in front of the woman. Elaine looked even more exhausted than she did before. She had just spent two hours washing up the three girls, helping them clean the makeup out of their hair.
"We're sorry…" Shirley apologized for the third time since getting caught. Her hair had already been dried and braided, and she was sitting across from Donna and Elaine at the kitchen table. Cecilia sat beside her, picking sheepishly at her fingers.
"It's fine…" Elaine sighed, starting to braid Donna's hair. "I just need you all to ask me before doing something like that. OK?"
All the girls quietly nodded in response.
"I don't even know how I'm going to get the stain out of the carpet, though…" Elaine muttered under her breath. "I'm going to have to run into town to get some rug shampoo."
Well… at least the girls were keeping her busy. There really was never a dull moment. Elaine didn't envy Jack, though… Taking care of five girls was taxing.
Elaine couldn't help but wonder about how the girls' father was getting along. It hasn't been that long since he left, so, with any luck, he hasn't gotten himself into too much trouble… She just wished she could communicate with him. It would sure make her conscious a lot calmer.
"Did you like the drawing…?" Shirley peeped quietly. "Did you like it?"
"It was a lovely drawing," Elaine snapped an elastic band onto the end of Donna's braid. "But it would have been even lovelier had you not drawn it into the rug." As soon as Elaine finished braiding Donna's hair, she paused, frowning slightly.
There was a knock on the front door, following by the sound of the old, creaky door opening. From the front entrance, there was a squeal of delight. It sounded like Miriam. Why was she answering the door? Was it, by chance, their father? Had he returned that soon?
"Miriam?" Elaine patted Donna on the shoulder to signify she was done. Without saying anything to the girls in the kitchen, Elaine hurried out, heading for the front entrance. "Miriam, who's at the door?" Elaine didn't exactly fancy the idea of such a young girl answering the door to a secluded farmhouse. What if someone took her away?
She rounded the corner, stopping one step into entrance before protectively rushing to Miriam, who was in the open doorway. Elaine gently pulled her back, looking up at the visitor – Or, rather, visitors.
Two rather tall, rather pale, and incredibly identical-looking rusty-haired strangers stood on the front porch of the house, watching Elaine expectantly…