Well I just finished Bioshock 2 a few days ago (fantastic game btw) and, as I've done for the first game, I felt I had to write more for the 'Good Ending' - the one you get if you save all the little sisters and spare all the bosses. I'm good like that lol. As such this contains HUGE SPOILERS - you have been warned.
My laptop is still in repairs so you'll have to wait for the other bits and pieces!
Hope you like it!
There You Are
He didn't remember much about life from before. He knew that he'd grown up on a farm, he could still see flashes of bright gold under an endless blue sky. He could feel dirt under his bare feet as he ran across those fields with a child's enthusiasm, whooping and calling up to the sky. There was the ghost of a familiar touch on his shoulders – his father's hands. There was the smell of his mother's cooking, the shouts of his younger brothers...
He knew that the boy he was had become a man drawn to the sea. A man who was curious enough to dive deep down and explore. It was this curiosity that had brought him to the Rapture, a great city under the ocean full of promises and ideas and dreams.
After that everything was fuzzy, everything hurt. Men in white coats came and they strapped him down to a hard metal table. They jabbed at him with needles and strange fluids that glowed in the murky underwater darkness. They cut and cut and cut until there was nothing left of him anymore. He was a shell scraped out; his insides dumped all over their cold operation tables. It didn't seem to end but he found could no longer care.
One day he heard something beside him. He turned his head, painful as it was, and his eyes fell on the small form of a little girl. She was crying and struggling as they strapped her down next to him. He tried to reach out a hand to her but found that he was strapped down too. He tried to call out to her but his voice came out a strangled groan.
There was chaos. They were forcing something over his head and he could hear a bolt gun working. He felt the heavy familiar weight of a diving suit pressing down on him, stifling him. He reached out again, or tried as best he could. He called to her. Trying to tell her 'it's going to be okay, I'm here'.
Even as things began to go dark he kept his eyes on her. She was so small, so little. They were hurting her! He would never let that happen ever again. He would always protect her. Always.
Days pretty much ran into each other under the sea but sleep was not a function he really served any more. The world shuddered under his feet, shaking dust from the pipes above his head. A skittering drew his gaze and he growled through the thick glass of his helmet. He watched for a few moments but nothing moved.
He approached the vent and raised his fist. He pounded on it three times and waited.
After a few seconds he could hear a pattering from inside the small dark tunnel and a pair of glowing yellow eyes soon appeared. Pale arms reached out and he gently lifted her free. She beamed up at him and swung her legs as he carefully turned to place her on the floor. They had only been apart for a few hours but it felt like years.
"Daddy," she exclaimed happily, swinging slightly on his hand. "Where are we going to play today?"
He only groaned in response, lifting his hand playfully. With ease her feet left the floor and she hung suspended from his enormous hand. She giggled happily.
"Let's go find the angels , Daddy," she laughed as he set her back down. She pulled him a long, her quick little legs matching his long thumping strides. They ventured into the depths of Rapture.
They came upon one of her angels quickly and she began to set to work. He stood straight. He did not like this place. It was dark and there were too many entrances. Soon she was finished, however, and already scampering off to find another angel. He plodded behind her, content to watch with a tender eye.
As always she was too fast, she ran around a corner and out of his sight. He hurried his pace. He had tried to tell her many times not to leave his sight; it worried him when he could not see her. Rapture was a dangerous place.
A shriek chilled his blood. She was calling for him! Something was wrong!
He ran through the winding corridors, feeling his way and soon he found her. A man had seized her arm and was trying to take her needle from her. He could see bruises forming on her pale skin.
Inarticulate rage filled him. He roared with anger and flew at them. He swept two of the companions aside with his drill, distantly he heard the cracking of bones. One fell over as he approached and he crushed him under foot. The one who had seized his little one was thrown to the ground as he swept her behind his back protectively. He kept one hand over her, warning the man away and telling her to keep back. He lifted the drill high above his head, revving it threateningly and roaring. He paused and looked deeply into the man's eyes. There was no remorse there. The man screamed as he brought it down and he felt the concrete below them shatter as it easily parted his flesh, spraying blood in a wide arc.
He stood slowly, looking around for others and growling loudly. He would destroy anyone who touched her! He felt a tug on his left arm and looked down into her face. She smiled up at him, "I'm okay, Daddy," she told him and hugged his arm.
Carefully he placed his hands under her arms and lifted her onto his back with a chiding groan. Slowly they began to thump away.
"Sorry, Daddy," she replied and he could feel her rub his helmet, "I won't run off again." She hugged him again, "Daddy always keeps me safe," she murmured. "We'll always be together right, Daddy?"
He moaned low in reply, reaching up to pat her softly.
"I love you, Daddy," she piped. He heard her clamber to the other side of his suit deftly before settling.
He couldn't really smile anymore. He didn't remember how. But he could be content and that was what he was. He would always follow her and keep her safe, he'd promised.
How could he not? She was his little girl, his daughter and he loved her so. More than he would ever be able to say.
Where was she? Those were his first thoughts upon waking. His body was unusually heavy and joints that had been unused for so long creaked under the strain of being forced to move. He hauled himself up and swung his cumbersome body around, desperately searching.
Where was she?
There was no sweet voice to welcome him, no childish laughter calling him. No light footsteps or gentle weight on his back. He was completely alone in the dark, dank pits of Rapture.
At first all he felt was very deep confusion and then anxiety. Never before had they been parted this long – and he sensed that it had been a very long time. He heaved himself down the winding passages, desperately searching. Calling out to her over and over again.
He didn't understand any of it really; even when they told him about what Professor Lamb was doing or Ryan's civil war. He only understood his basic instincts; the little ones were in danger and, as their father, it was his responsibility to care for them. He felt saddened every time he beat back one of his own kind, drilling and hammering them into the ground to get to the little ones. But he knew that if they realised what they were doing they would understand – the children must be saved.
So he cradled each one close and carefully delivered them to the familiar vents. He freed them from their tie to him and was slightly disheartened every time. Slightly more alone.
He saved so many but where was his little one? Where was she?
He only heard whispers of her voice at first, all grown up. It filled his heart with joy and for a little while longer he was able to chase after her as he had always done. In every cry from the little ones he protected from the madness of the Rapture denizens he felt surer of his position in this life.
"No one hurts my Daddy!"
"Daddy always protects me. Thank you, Daddy."
When he could finally see her he realised how much they were hurting her. This made him angry and he beat on the door, desperately trying to get to his not-so-little-little-one. They smothered her! He felt his heart slowing and pounded harder, needing, wanting and straining to get to her. To do what he had always done. Save her. Protect her. Always.
He went into the blackness. Darkness bereft of her.
They were lucky that was not the end. Before long all of them, him, the little ones and her, were flying toward the surface into a bright light he hadn't seen in a very long time. He wished he could take his helmet off to see it with bare eyes but he felt he shouldn't, he shouldn't look upon it with his mutilated face.
He felt a touch on his hand and she looked into his face. She smiled down at him and he hoped she knew he was smiling back. But he was so very tired and it was hard to even groan a response to her words.
"But you are my conscience and I need you."
His vision was flickering and suddenly he felt a needle piece his chest, he jolted slightly. Everything was going white and slipping away. He found himself looking at his own body, lifeless and limp. Felt their minds together as they had always been.
'It's going to be okay,' he whispered to her in words he thought he'd forgotten, 'I'm here now.'
As she-they stood their gaze fell on the little sisters at their feet, needing them and depending on them. Suddenly an image came forth from their mind: a little girl running ahead and her father following behind slowly, trying to keep pace.
He smiled. There she was.
The wind was cool on her face; he pulled at her hair and stroked her cheeks. She smiled and tilted her face up, basking in the bright sunlight. The sky stretched on, endless and blue, above her head. The sun beat down on huge fields of wheat that rippled like the sea in the breeze. A dirt track wide enough for a car carved a graceful path through the fields and led the way to an old farmhouse and barn. It was large set of buildings, the wood was worn and well used. Soft in a way.
She swallowed nervously and made her way down the path, casting a glance back only once. She approached the wooden door, painted blue and white, and knocked gently. She could hear a voice and footsteps, anxiously she shifted from foot to foot.
The woman who answered the door was just growing old, long white hair and a kind, wrinkled smile. "Can I help you?" she asked politely.
She stuttered for a second before finally managing to get the words out. "A-are you Mrs Goodwin?" she muttered, eyes darting to the floor.
The woman smiled benignly, "yes, that's me."
"Are you John Goodwin's mother? Better known as 'Johnny Topside'?" she said, finally looking up.
The woman's smile fell off her face and she could see a deep sadness etched there. "I'm afraid you won't find him here," she told her resignedly, "our John disappeared more than fifteen years ago now."
She heard a noise and looked over the old woman's shoulder to see a man move into the hallway and gaze curiously at her. She smiled wide as she recognised the large frame and strong shoulders. "I'm glad I've found you," she told the old woman. "I wanted to tell you what happened to your son."
Just like that she was welcomed in and seated around a weathered kitchen table, a cup of coffee placed in front of her. "May I ask your name, child?" the woman inquired kindly whilst taking her own side. "And how do you know our son?"
"I'm Eleanor," she told them promptly. "Your son was a diver?"
"Yes he was," the old man answered, "disappeared during one of his missions."
Clearly he was a man of few words. "He didn't disappear," she assured them with a brilliant smile.
"But how do you know him?" the woman pressed.
Eleanor looked out at the sky and, for just a moment, she felt a reassuring and familiar hand on her shoulder. She heard the gentle moan and chiding wheeze. "I need to tell you what happened to your son," she said, not answering the woman's question. "I met him when I was eight years old. I didn't have anybody really, back then."
"Where did you meet?"
"That's complicated," she laughed and felt a tear in her eye. She breathed deeply, "He was the only good thing to ever happen to me in that place. He never abandoned me, never left me." She looked away and swallowed the tears again.
"He clearly meant a lot to you," the old man commented. "A gentle soul was our boy."
She nodded, agreeing whole heartedly. "He became my world, he was everything. He died recently," she blurted.
She heard the woman choke slightly. "I'm sorry," she said glumly, "that didn't come out like I'd intended."
"No," the old man told her, shaking his head, "we long ago resigned ourselves that he may be dead. How did it happen?"
She hesitated. "He died saving my life," she finally replied, looking away.
"Our boy," the woman murmured with a small smile.
She was about to say something more when a scuffle by the door caught her attention, she turned and frowned at what she saw. A small girl stood before her, a small toy clasped in her hand and completely bereft of shoes. She sighed and beckoned the girl in, "I told you to wait in the car, Mary," she chided, pulling the girl into her lap.
"Sorry, sister," the girl piped, "but it was boring and the others-" She broke off and hugged the toy close.
Eleanor smiled as she recognised the toy she had made so very long ago now and stroked Mary's hair tenderly. "I apologise for her," she remarked off hand.
"You have many sisters?" the woman asked, also smiling at the child.
"Yes," she chuckled with a wry expression, "I have eight now."
"Eight?" the woman asked in surprise.
"We're adopted," Mary told her happily, "and Eleanor takes care of us."
"A big responsibility for someone so young," the old man commented with a frown.
"And I wouldn't have it any other way, they were entrusted to me by your son after all," she replied and swept back her brown hair.
Mary grinned toothily at the mention of someone she knew very well indeed, "he always protects us and keeps us safe," she sang happily.
"Just who was our son to you?" the man asked, casting the child a long look.
Eleanor's gaze fled back to the sunlight for a moment, a sunlight she would never have seen without him. She may be reborn anew but it was by his hand and that was what she could never, ever forget. She looked back to the couple and felt a huge smile draw itself onto her face.
She looked down into Mary's eyes and the girl grinned straight back. "My name is Eleanor," she told them at last, "And, to me, John Goodwin was one of the greatest men who ever lived. He cared for me, protected me against things you can't even imagine, sang to me, loved me and never left me. He was my universe," she felt the tears she'd held back escape and Mary reached up to touch the wetness on her face. "He was brave and strong and, most of all, he was my Daddy and I will never forget him, nor let him be forgotten."
She watched their expressions and felt something new was born. A kind of love she had heard about but never seen. As they strode back into their father's sunlight the world suddenly didn't seem so scary or big. Mary danced ahead laughing and Eleanor chuckled with her. She spread her arms and soaked in the sun.
Then for a moment, a glorious pause in time, she saw the shadow of a hulking figure at her shoulder. She felt him and his warm embrace. She could almost feel the shudder of his heavy steps. She didn't look because she didn't need to. Words whispered to her and her smile widened.
"There you are," her father said.
So what did everyone think? I hope you liked it. I wrote while listening to Eleanor's Lullaby from the Bioshock 2 soundtrack (Songs from the Lighthouse) - look it up!
Please review and feed my wounded ego!