This prompt came from poster nyxnotnicks and was "Robert and Rosalind must choose what they take with them to their new lives after becoming human again."
This one is rated T for some very brief innuendo.
Robert came to on the floor of Lutece Labs, only a few feet away from the still sparking Lutece Device. He had expected to feel something; pain, confusion, residual soreness, but no. For all intents and purposes it felt like nothing more than waking up from a long nap had occurred.
He forced himself up to his hands and knees, then paused to see the doors. Nothing. Just the world he was in now. Robert grinned. They'd done it, they were mortal again.
"Rosalind?" He called out.
"What, brother?" She answered back from the other side of the room, in a similar state of awakening.
"We did it!" Robert clambered to his feet, then helped Rosalind up.
"I'm quite aware of that." Rosalind looked around the lab room. Nothing appeared to have been stolen. They had most likely appeared mere hours after their deaths, just as Elizabeth had in Rapture. "Now we'll need to get the device functional again and gather any keepsakes. I cannot speak for you, but I've had enough of Columbia for any number of lifetimes."
Robert went over the Lutece device and inspected a panel to the side. He scratched his chin in thought while examining the exposed wires. "It looks like all Fink did was switch two of the power voltage wires around. It's as if he was barely trying."
"That'll make fixing the device all the easier," Rosalind commented. "I'll get it working again while you gather any supplies we'll need, and any keepsakes you wish to bring."
Robert nodded and walked off towards their former bedroom. It appeared that neither Fink nor his men had been upstairs yet, likely waiting until news of the Luteces' "death" was made official to prevent suspicion. This was exactly the break the twins needed. He entered the bedroom and approached their bed. Robert got on his knees to reach underneath the bed.
He withdrew a medium sized, rectangular box. Inside were the Luteces' life savings, it was filled to the brim with silver eagles. The silver crash of 1893 meant they wouldn't be worth their equivalent in U.S. dollars, but hopefully it would be enough to get them situated until they could find suitable employment. Robert flipped the box's lid open to ensure the silver eagles had not been taken, thankfully they were all accounted for.
The Luteces would have to travel light; there was no telling if they would even be able to secure a home on the other side of the tear. Robert planned to try and repossess his former house, but there was no way of knowing if that would be possible. No way of knowing now that he and Rosalind were no longer omnipotent, at least.
Dwelling on the multiverse brought a sharp pang to Robert's left temple. He clenched his teeth and tried to empty his mind of all thoughts. Already the knowledge they acquired was slipping away. The mysteries of universe really were becoming mysteries once again. To help get his mind off the increasingly muddled knowledge of the universe, Robert began searching for any keepsakes.
He was immediately drawn to a glass container on the nightstand. Floating inside was a miniature replica of Columbia, suspended within the empty space beneath the glass by a Lutece particle. These were fairly common as knick knacks and memorabilia within Columbia, but usually contained only one building. This, given to the Luteces at the same time as their statue was erected, was the only one to contain a replica of the entire city. Robert knew immediately he couldn't part with it.
"Brother, the device appears to be operational now," Rosalind called up through the hole in the floor. "Could you locate the appropriate tear while I gather some items of my own?" Robert leaned out over the hole and nodded to Rosalind. He tucked the container under one arm and held the money box with his other, then headed back downstairs.
He passed Rosalind on the stairs and smiled at her. The excitement was palpable between them and what would soon transpire. Rosalind had noticed the Columbia replica Robert was carrying and approved. They couldn't bring much, there was no guarantee they would be able to store anything, so Rosalind would have to think carefully on what she would take.
Her mind instantly came to a book kept within the bedroom's desk. It was a journal which Rosalind had used for many purposes over the years. Schematics for the Lutece device and other inventions, notes on experiments, and most significant of all, transcripts of her original mores code conversations with Robert. Anything of importance that worked better in writing than recorded on a voxophone had been written down in that book. Rosalind pulled open the desk's left drawer and grabbed the book. It was a simple leather journal, with "R. Lutece" engraved on the front.
"Have you located the right tear?" She asked, leaning over the hole.
Robert held up his open hand, slowly lowering his fingers one by one in a countdown. Once his hand was closed, Robert flicked a switch on the side of the device and the half-formed tear in the center expanded to stable size.
"It should be only few months post my initial departure. It'll be as if I was never gone. Well, as if was gone just long enough to have met my lovely fiancée." While Robert spoke, Rosalind had left their bedroom and was descending the stairs.
"Yes, and all your colleagues will marvel at how you seemingly aged sixteen years in those few months." Rosalind stepped in to the lab room with the journal held tightly at her side.
"Not everyone ages gracefully, dear Rosalind," Robert smirked.
"I certainly hope we do."
Rosalind approached the open tear, stopping when she stood next to Robert. They would go through together. Robert glanced over at her and noticed the journal.
"Is that?" He asked, referring to the section containing their conversations.
"Yes," Rosalind answered. "Even now memories of our travels are becoming muddled. I don't want to forget any more than is necessary."
Robert paused for a moment, narrowing his eyes while deep in thought. "There is no way to be certain how much we can retain… Perhaps we should each focus on a particular memory as we cross over. One memory that, above all others, we could not bear to forget. There's nothing to suggest such an act would work, but I feel it's worth a try."
"Indeed it is," Rosalind nodded. "I'd like to remember the moment we first made contact, with that first atom. That is by far the most important moment of our lives."
"I disagree." The Luteces stared at each other, Rosalind confused as how they could possibly disagree on this. "I want to remember the moment we truly met, in person." Robert smiled fondly at the memory. "I could not stop thinking at how beautiful am I as a woman."
"Flattery will get you nowhere, brother," Rosalind chided, blushing slightly.
"Come to think of it," Robert set the box and miniature Columbia down, then walked over the nearby couch. "I wish we could bring this couch with us."
"Why on Earth would you want it? That thing is dreadfully uncomfortable," Rosalind turned her nose up at the aforementioned piece of furniture.
"But think of all the wonderful moments we've shared on this couch," Robert said as he ran his hand over the seat. "Look, we've worn imprints into the cushions." He looked up at Rosalind. "I'm sure we have some time before anyone thinks to investigate the labs again. Perhaps we could…" His gaze darted between Rosalind and the couch. "For old time's sake? We would also be giving ourselves a head start on the second step of our plan."
Rosalind frowned. "Even if by chance we were to conceive on that couch, the trans-dimensional sickness I am sure to receive later would certainly kill any fertilized egg." She paused to think. "However, celebratory coitus as a toast to our new lives would be acceptable."
"No," Robert cringed and shook his head. "The thought of miscarriage has ruined any enthusiasm for such things."
Rosalind smirked. "Then let us depart."