Author's Note: I'm going to say it now. Bioshock is quite possibly the most awesome game EVER.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

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BioShock - Beginnings

By: Lady Neverafternon

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The first thing Polly could remember was a sharp pain in her arm and the scarred face of her nurse bending over her with one of the biggest needles she had ever seen in her hand. Polly screamed. It was cold, it was wet, it was dark, and it was not at all fun. Where were the angels? The happy golden walls of her palace? Polly struggled against the woman's iron grip and began to cry.

"I'm not going to hurt you darling!"

The woman raised the needle and Polly lashed out with her little fists. By sheer luck she connected with a spot on the woman's side where the woman had cut open her flesh and begun to modify it. The splicer gasped in spite of herself and her grip slackened. Polly saw her chance and slipped free, and found herself running through the hallways of a broken city.

'Rapture', a voice whispered in her brain, sparking recognition.

Polly swiped at the tears on her face as her little feet sped over the broken floor, looking for a place to hide. Behind her, other hellish voices joined that of her nurse. They were chasing her now and they were enjoying it. Spying a crack in a wall, Polly jumped into it and tried her best to stop crying. She stuffed a corner of her dirty dress into her mouth and waited.

Footsteps charged past her, stopped, milled about the room. They were looking for her. Broken furniture crashed against the walls, drapes were torn down, and cupboards and closets flung open.

"Where are you darling?"

"We won't hurt you! We'll take good care of you!"

"Come out come out where ever you are ducky!"

The voices sounded kind and nice, but a child's intuition that perhaps not all was right with these adults kept her where she was. She tried to be so quiet she even forgot to breath. A moment later, the voices changed.

"Ugh, come out you little brat!"

"Why can't you find her?"

"Ah piss off."

More furniture broken, more in frustration than anything. A moment later, the splicers lost patience and left, figuring the little sister to have gotten away from them. Polly waited a for a bit, then curiosity got the better of her and she poked her little golden head out of her hidey hole and looked about the room. It was empty of those that had sought to hurt her and so she climbed out.

Rapture. So that was where she was, though she did not remember how she knew that or what it meant. It did not sound at all nice to her. Polly picked about the room, halfheartedly looking around though she did not know what for. She was cold and she was scared. She found herself drawn to the only part of the room that was lighted. The whole back wall was glass. And beyond that was nothing and... everything.

Polly pressed her face up against the glass and looked out at a world just as strange and impossible as the one she was in. Just a foot away from her, on the other side of the glass, schools of fish swam through waving strands of kelp and a whale wove its way through the dark towers of the city below. A starfish was stuck to the glass and Polly could see its little sucker feet moving slightly. Everywhere she looked the only signs of life were the fish. Lights flickered, and she could make out shadows of people, but they did not look at all friendly.

Looking out through the glass, Polly felt the loneliness press up against her like a tangible thing. She clenched her little fingers in her dress and took great hiccupping breaths, trying desperately not to cry. Something told her that those things which had chased her would be drawn to the sound of her sobs.

Polly did not know what to do, did not know where to go. She was sure the rest of the dark city would be just as scary as this part. She hugged herself and bowed her head, closing her eyes. Perhaps if she wished hard enough the golden happy place would be back, with the angels.

A noise jerked her out of her reverie. She looked wildly around, sure she had heard something. There were no splicers, no wildly calling voices. Perhaps she had imagined it. Polly loosened up, then almost ran back to her hidey hole because she'd heard it again. The noise, the strange noise. There it was again, a low rumbling groan, not quite human. Polly stood there trembling and not sure what to do. She had never heard anything like it, though it did not sound unfriendly.

She steeled her courage and crept to the door of the next room. It took all her strength to get the huge wooden door ajar, but she managed. The next room was just like the first: huge, ruined, and seemingly empty of life. She crept around, silent as a mouse, looking for a hint as to the source of the sound. She heard it again, in the corner of the room. Polly walked bravely forward, just barely able to make out the huge shape on the ground, though it gained focus as she crept forward.

A thing, not exactly a man, lay prostrate on the ground surrounded by the bodies of splicers. He, it, was wearing a diving suit, armored out so it was more of a tank than anything. Polly got closer. She knew it was watching her from the faintly glowing portholes of its mask. Then she saw why it wasn't moving.

Diving spears pinned the Big Daddy to the floor and wall, and it was bleeding heavily from a score of other wounds. It was dying. Polly covered her mouth in horror. For some reason, she could not say why, she knew this big and scary looking thing would not hurt her.

It struggled for a moment, then its huge arm clanked to the floor. It shoved something heavy at her. Polly stared at the object, then moved to pick it up. It was a spin action revolver. She held it awkwardly, then looked back at the prone Big Daddy on the floor. It was still watching her, though its breathing had started to thin. It was arming her. Polly suddenly very much did not want to be left alone in this hellish place. She flung the pistol to the side and darted off.

In the next room she ripped the drapes from the windows with all the strength her little body could muster, grabbed a white box with a medical cross on it, a stale bit of bread, and a huge bottle of something spelled w.h.i.s.k.e.y . She carted it all back to the Big Daddy and dumped it at his side. She covered him with a bit of drape and tried desperately to stop the bleeding.

She was sobbing when he covered her small hand with his huge one. He gently took the drape from her and weakly ripped it into strips. Polly watched him slowly wrap some of his wounds, then helped him secure the wraps with medical tape. The Big Daddy, his movements sluggish and methodical because of the seriousness of his wounds, opened the med pack. Polly watched him patch himself up anxiously. One by one, he ripped out the diving spears and stopped up the bleeding holes with drape bits and medical gauze. He didn't touch the bread, though he did drink from the bottle quite a bit. Polly never actually saw him drink, but the entire bottle slowly disappeared over the course of their slapstick doctor session. Half of it onto his wounds, and the other half presumably into his stomach.

Finally his arm fell to his side again. Polly leaned forward eagerly searching him for a hint, any hint at all that he was better. The Big Daddy's head fell back with a thump against the wall. For a moment Polly was frightened, then she noticed that his breathing was stronger. For the first time the little girl felt hope.

Polly struggled to her feet and began to push the biggest bits of furniture she could up in front of her creature, hiding him from view. The Big Daddy never moved, but she knew his eyes followed her as she scrambled about the room, covering her fort with bits of garbage to disguise the fact that it was indeed a fort.

Then she set about to the task of feeding him. Polly soon discovered that he wouldn't touch any of the old bread that seemed to be in abundance in the area, though he did consume a great deal of the bottles lying around.

She spent her days searching for food and more medical boxes for him, and her nights curled up next to him listening to the steady wheezing groan of his breathing. She talked to him a lot too. She told him stories from what she remembered of the golden place, she told him stories to make the loneliness go away for he never spoke aside from that echoing groan. Somewhere along the way she began thinking of him as hers. She took care of him, she watched over him, she fed him, he was her pet, her friend.

He did eat quite a bit though. She found herself going farther and farther a field in order to feed him. His presence made her braver though. He was her pet so obviously it was her job to protect him, but knowing he was there with her made Rapture not as scary. It helped also that the splicer encounters were infrequent, and the ones she did run into were easily hidden from.

Polly considered it a stroke of luck when she found the tunnel that led to the food place.

At first Polly was afraid of Farmer's Market. It was wide and open and smelly. The bodies of splicers were piled up and rotting and bloated under the heat lamps. The smell alone was horrifying. The buzzing of flies echoed in her ears and sound seemed to carry more. Her first trip there she skirted the walls, afraid to get too far into the open. She jumped at every noise and the shadows had her peering anxiously into them, seeing danger at every turn.

The food though, there was plenty of that.

The bounty of food she was able to bring back to her charge soon dispelled her worries. It should have occurred to her that her friend could not follow her through the tunnel if she were to run into trouble. She soon forgot all about the danger of the splicers. She cared only for her friend and that she was able to help him get better.

Watching him eat (well, she never really saw him eat, so watching the food disappear) and seeing him get better off of all the interesting things she was able to bring him made her happy and brave. Soon, she went without fear into the dark places of Rapture.

When she discovered the Medical Pavilion, Polly thought her dreams had come true. She wasn't sure what all of the gadgets did, but she knew that the red cross was a symbol of where sick people went to get better. The darkness and the flickering lights scared her, and she really should have known better, but she went fearlessly into the darkness because that was what was needed.

Polly poked into various drawers and cabinets, but everything was looted clean. It was hard to see. There was blood and glass all over the floor, and she thought she could hear laughter, but whenever she rounded a corner she was alone. Polly shivered, and felt the first prickling of fear raise goose bumps on her skin.

Nevertheless, she moved on farther into the darkness. Her friend needed her, he was still weak, still sick and it was her job to take care of him. Polly didn't notice the shapes lurking in the darkness on the ceiling behind her. She didn't hear the soft clanking tinkling noises coming from the roof. She had eyes only for the medicine that her patient needed.

Polly moved further into the hospital. She stopped short when her toes brushed something wet and cold. Straining her eyes to see into the darkness she saw that the floor disappeared into a small lake. She frowned. She thought she could see something moving under the water, something not quite human. She leaned closer, over the water, straining to see what it was.

And then the spider splicer's ruined face was inches from her own, grinning and laughing. Polly fell back screaming. She scrambled to her feet and sped away, only to run into two more splicers. They laughed, knowing that their prey was trapped and not going anywhere.

"Found you ducky!"

"No, no, no!" Polly sobbed.

Polly wrenched away from them and sped out of the Medical Pavilion. Only to skid to a halt. There were more of them outside. They were waiting for her. Everywhere she turned grinning macabre faces leered back at her.

"Hold still ducky, this will only sting a little!"

Polly crouched down and shielded her body with her little arms. Try as she might she could not stop the trembling and the sobs that shook her.

"Wait! Who said you gets it?"

"Yeah! The little brat is mine!"

"What! You bitch!"

And like that, they were fighting. Polly inched away from the seething mass of splicers, then turned and ran.

"She's getting away!"

"After her!"

"Come back sweetheart! I'm not gonna hurt cha!"

And the chase was on. Polly could hear her heart thudding against her chest and it was getting harder and harder to breath. She ran as fast as she could back to safety and to her friend. All she had to do was get back to him and it would all be okay. Then it hit her what she was doing. Polly skidded to a halt outside the door were her friend lay waiting for her, and turned to face her attackers. Whatever happened, she could not let those mean people hurt her friend. He was sick and hurt and here she was leading them to him.

"Ah! Ducky wants to play!"

"Say cheese!"

Maniacal laughter rang out around her. Polly watched them surround her. There would be no escape now. She squeezed her eyes shut and thought of the golden happy place and of the angels. At least her friend would be safe.

"Here we go! AH HA HA HA!"

And then the door behind her exploded outward, raining pieces of wood like bullets. Polly opened her eyes. The splicers expressions in front of her had changed from anticipation and glee to fear. She didn't get a chance to turn and see what frightened them so. The Big Daddy she had been caring for powered up the drill on his right arm and loaded the rocket launcher in his left hand.

The splicers scattered. The ones that were too slow in getting away were shredded to bits by the drill, the rest were taken out with a few well placed shots from the rocket launcher.

When the debris settled and the noise died down, Polly opened her eyes. Her Big Daddy was watching her, still wheezing slightly, though Polly was glad to see he wasn't bleeding again. He slowly tromped over to her, his steps echoing in the empty room. He stopped in front of her and held out his hand. Polly stared at it for a moment, then looked up at him. She placed her tiny hand in his huge one, and he raised her up to sit on his broad shoulders.

Polly enjoyed being on top of the world for a moment before the exhaustion from stress got the better of her. She rested her head against the back of his, and nodded off, trusting him to take care of her. She knew he was still hurt, still sick, and she knew that he would avoid large spaces and splicers as best he could. They would find a new hidey hole where they could live and defend it with relative ease. He would still need her to care for him and he would protect her.

For the first time since she could remember, Polly slept completely without fear. She faded into the black with a sigh. She wasn't alone. Whatever happened now, she wasn't alone anymore.

"Good night Mr. Bubbles."

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The End