He couldn't sleep. He hadn't had trouble sleeping for years, after he finally stopped feeling remorse from all the bad things he'd done. He'd forgotten about his sins every night, hadn't dwelled on them, and he'd rested peacefully. Rest was important, after all. But that particular night, he couldn't sleep.

It wasn't his own fault that he was restless. He wanted to sleep, he really did. To some extent he was sleeping, but the way he often snapped back into a state of half consciousness didn't exactly grant him a lot of mental rest. But again, it wasn't his fault. It was hers. The way she tossed about, mumbling and moaning in her sleep. Not the good type of moaning. She seemed to have a fever, but Booker couldn't seem to wake her when he tried.

She occasionally clutched her hands around his arm, huddling up close to him, only to toss about a few seconds later. He wouldn't even mind lying that close to her if it meant she'd calm down, so after two hours of no proper sleep at all, that's exactly what he did.

"Damn it to hell," he mumbled and grabbed Elizabeth's shoulder. She tried to squirm out of his grip but he grabbed her tighter and pulled her close to him, and she instantly wrapped her arms around him and held him as close as she could. Her chest pushed against his chest through the fabric of her night-gown (which she'd found in a closet next to the bed in their room), and she sniffled a little when she buried her face in the crook of his neck. And oddly enough, she calmed down.

Booker didn't know why she was having bad dreams. Maybe something about the place they were in. There was something about Rapture, as if Booker had been there before. Or heard about it. He wasn't sure, but there was definitely something off.

But the only thing he cared about in that moment was getting his long awaited sleep. With the young woman pressed – though hard for him to admit – comfortably against him, he fell asleep quite quickly. And when they both awoke hours later, Elizabeth insisted they stay in bed to make sure they rested out properly now that they had the chance.

"Elizabeth, we have got to get up," Booker told her, trying to snake himself out of the bed.

"And why's that?" Elizabeth pouted, her hands clasping around Booker's arm in an attempt to hold him back.

"We need to check this place out. Find out what the hell we're supposed to do."

"We have time to explore later!" She exclaimed, rolling herself on top of Booker, pinning him down by the wrists. "Come on, let's just sleep some more." She pleaded, making her eyes as big and adorable as she possibly could.

"Ugh… fine… just a little more. At least get off me," Booker groaned, and Elizabeth yelped happily as she rolled off of Booker, but without even hesitating, she snuggled up close to him. The next thing Booker heard was not the same happy voice. "M-Mr. Dewitt? I'm so sorry…"

"What?" He mumbled, rubbing his eyes tiredly. How long had he been asleep?

"I swear, it wasn't on purpose… I had a dream, and when I woke up, I…" She stopped, apparently not able to finish her sentence. Booker opened his eyes, and it didn't take him long to notice. The smell in the room was different. The roofs were smudged with… he couldn't even tell if it was dirt or blood because of how dark it was.

"What the hell?" Booker uttered, shooting out of the bed. To his surprise, he was wearing clothes. "What the…"

"I opened a tear, in my sleep… I don't know how it happened, it just happened. I figured… the "us" in this dimension probably wouldn't go to bed without clothes because of how things are here, so that's probably why we… we're dressed."

"What happened to this place?" Booker mumbled. He looked outside of the window and he could see how dead the city looked. It was looming with darkness all over, and it was no longer the happy city they'd come to.

"I'm so, so sorry…"

"Elizabeth, stop blaming yourself. What we need to do now is find a way out of here." Booker replied, grabbing Elizabeth's hand to pull her out of the bed. She was wearing the same dress she'd been wearing in Columbia when they met, and he was wearing the clothes he'd been wearing at that time. No sign of damage on his previously ruined vest, either. "I guess it's finally time we explore, huh?" Booker sighed, slowly opening the door to the hallway. Only one lamp was on out there, and it was flickering on and off. The hallway was narrow, and chairs and other things were scattered around.

"What happened to this place?" Elizabeth asked in shock as they slowly made their way forwards, trying to find out where to go.

"I don't know. Something bad." Booker said, instinctively grabbing a metal pipe from a table next to him, holding it tightly in his hand. As they kept walking forwards, they eventually ended up in a bigger room, but they weren't sure what kind of room it was. Some sort of hall, definitely. They heard voices. Someone talking, or mumbling. And then they saw him, stumbling into the hall. They couldn't see his face, because his head was turned downwards.

"Mr. Dewitt-"

"Stay back." Booker whispered sternly, putting his arm in front of Elizabeth without looking at her. He tightened his grip on the metal pipe and started sneaking towards the man. When he was within range, he spoke. "Excuse me?" He asked, and in and instant the man had reeled around, screamed, and pointed a revolver at Booker's head. Booker swung the metal pipe and hit the gun out his hand before swinging again, taking the man down.

Elizabeth sprinted over and grabbed the gun from the ground, aiming it at the man's face. They could see that he was dirty and tattered, and his face looked twisted and contorted. "He barely looks human…"

"Yeah… something is definitely weird with this place." Booker mumbled. And then, they heard it. The voice of a child, yet changed beyond the point of recognition.

"Look, Mr. Bubbles!" The voice of the girl rang, sounding happy and excited. "Angels."
They heard the sound of metal against the floor, like big footsteps coming closer and closer. Elizabeth automatically walked closer to Booker, curling her fingers against his chest. They saw the little girl skipping out from the shadows. She was tiny, wearing a blue dress, and her eyes were strangely yellow. In her hand was what looked like a giant syringe.

"Mr. DeWitt… it's just a little girl." Elizabeth whispered, seeming to be a little relieved. Booker simply shook his head, taking a step back.

"Oh, I don't think so," he said, and then the loud footsteps continued. Something else was coming from the shadows. They saw it, after a few seconds, eight yellow orbs glowing in the darkness. The rest of the creature followed suit, walking into sight. It had a large drill for an arm, and it…

It looks like something that belongs deep under water.

Booker winced as his head started throbbing. "Mr. DeWitt," Elizabeth uttered. "You're… you're bleeding." She said with a worried voice, and Booker wiped the blood from his nose.

Presenting…

"Presenting the… big…" Booker stuttered, the pain evident in his voice.

"Mr. DeWitt?"

"The big… the big… Daddy…"

Presenting the Big Daddy…

"From… from… argh!" Booker exclaimed, his hands clutching at his hair.

"Booker!" Elizabeth shouted. "What's going on?!"

Presenting the Big Daddy from the deeps of Rapture.
"Presenting the Bid Daddy from the deeps of Rapture!"

Booker saw the glass casing from that museum flicker on and off in front of the creature. His hands fell limp by his sides and he kept looking at it.

"You remember, don't you? Don't you, Elizabeth?"

"That room…" Elizabeth gasped, taking a step back. "The creature within the glass casing…"

"Mr. Bubbles!" The little girl exclaimed, looking scared as her eyes cast upon Booker and Elizabeth. A rumbling sound emitted from the Big Daddy, and its drill started spinning. It was getting riled up, its yellow orbs turning red. It was angry.

"Mr. De- Booker! It's coming!" Elizabeth shouted, and the Big Daddy bucked towards them, charging them faster than seemed possible for something its size. Booker yelled in agony as he threw himself at Elizabeth, shoving her out of the way. The Big Daddy crashed into a pillar behind them, and Elizabeth helped Booker to his feet. "Thank you, Mr. DeWitt. What do we do now?"

"It's still… pissed off," Booker groaned, more blood coming from his nose. After seeing the Big Daddy, it had triggered a reaction with his memories from another dimension. Booker raised the revolver and tried to aim it at the Big Daddy, firing several bullets. But obviously enough, it didn't do any harm. "Vigors it is, then…"

"Your body can't take that kind of pressure now!" Elizabeth told him, trying to shake some sense into him.

"It's the only choice we have!" He replied. He lifted his hand and prepared. "Have some shock jockey!" He shouted, and the electricity surged from his hand, shooting into the big creature. It stumbled backwards and shook, smoke emitting from its body. But it didn't take long before it was back up and going. It used its hand to swipe Booker off his feet, effectively tossing him into the ground.

"You big bully!" Elizabeth shouted, punching the big daddy's arm with her fist. "Ouch!" She yelped, hopping backwards whilst clutching at her damaged hand. "Stupid Elizabeth, stupid, stupid!" She hissed to herself. Booker stumbled to his feet, and that's when Elizabeth saw it behind him. A tear had appeared, and she could sense that it wasn't something completely new. It was the dimension they'd came from. "Your suffering will be over soon, Mr. DeWitt!"

She tore it open, and it embraced them completely. Soft music surrounded them, and the atmosphere was warm and welcoming. The lights were dim, and people were talking and dancing. They were in a one of Raptures' bars, apparently. It looked much better in this dimension, Elizabeth thought to herself. She looked around and found Booker on his knees, blood dripping from his nose. His hand was clutched at his left arm that had been hurt when he fell.

"Mr. DeWitt!" Elizabeth gasped, crouching down next to him. "Are you okay?"

"I'm good," Booker groaned. "I need a napkin… and a drink." He chuckled as he got to his feet with Elizabeth's assistance. "And maybe some ice."

"You know what?" Elizabeth started, holding up her sore hand. "I totally agree."

They stumbled over to the bar and sat down in each their barstool. "Scotch, neat… and some napkins." Booker said, and the bartender nodded before looking at Elizabeth.

"I'll have, uh… the same. I'll have some ice in mine." She said gingerly. She wasn't exactly used to alcohol, but the occasion did call for it. "Mr. DeWitt, how do we pay for it?"

"Oh, no," the bartender said with a smile. "All unexpected guests have their drinks on the house."

"Oh… thank you very much," Elizabeth smiled softly, bowing her head a little. They both got their drinks, and Elizabeth held the glass against her sore knuckles. "Ah, that feels good…" She sighed.

…

"I feel… weird…" Elizabeth breathed as she stumbled back into their room, trying to stay balanced. Booker came in calmly behind her, locking the door. "Ish like… like I'm not… me, you know?"

"You're not too used to alcohol, huh?" Booker chuckled, and he was obviously a bit more happy than usual.

"Definitely not," Elizabeth mumbled, staring out into the ocean through the window. "Sho beautiful…"

"Maybe starting off with scotch wasn't the best idea," Booker sighed, kicking his shoes off. He went into the bathroom and drank some water from the tap. "Elizabeth, drink some water. Or else you'll wake up with the most terrible headache you can imagine."

"Roger that," she giggled, and did as he told her. She returned into the main room and noticed some red spots under Booker's nose. "Mr. DeWitt, there's shtill some… bl… blood under your nosh."

"Huh… I'll get it," he said, walking towards the bathroom with a barely visible waver in the way he moved. "Man, I had a lot to drink," he mumbled.

"No, you go sit on the bed, I'll… I'll get… get it…" Elizabeth said, pushing Booker's chest timidly. He sighed and slumped down on the edge of the bed, his hands hanging between his knees. Elizabeth disappeared into the bathroom for a while and came back into the room with a wet washcloth. She jumped onto the bed and sat with her legs in cross, and Booker had to turn sideways to face her. "Theeere… we go," Elizabeth giggled as she patted the cloth against his upper lip, getting away the last of the blood.

"Thanks," Booker sighed, slumping his shoulders a little. Elizabeth wiped a bit more to make sure she'd gotten every spot of blood, and then she gently kissed his the tip of his nose.

"All," she started happily, but her voice faltered as her eyes got locked with his. "C-Clean…"

"Yeah," Booker said, furrowing his brows a little. He could see Elizabeth's throat move as she swallowed. He could also see her lips part just slightly as she unconsciously dampened them with her tongue. The air around them suddenly felt heavy.

Elizabeth could feel her pulse rising in her chest. She'd had a lot to drink but not that much. Not so much that she'd feel that way, so maybe, she thought… just maybe it had been there for a long time. She dropped the washcloth to the ground and put her good hand on Booker's shoulder, curling her fingers against the fabric of his shirt.

"What?" Booker mumbled, trying to stay sane. Trying to keep himself under control. He couldn't do this, could he? She was a job. Or, at least she used to be.

"U-Uhm… I m-missed… a spot…" She mumbled, her cheeks looking red and warm.

"Then get it," Booker said with a frown. Elizabeth nodded timidly and tightened her grip on his shoulder. She was so close to him, it was almost scary.

"I-I'll… get it," Elizabeth stuttered, her face moving closer and closer to Booker. He felt frozen, as if he couldn't do anything about it. Hesitantly, Elizabeth let her tongue graze the top of his lip to get rid of the last speck of blood, before she caught his lips with her own, an involuntary moan escaping her throat as she did. Surprisingly enough, Booker didn't fight it.

Elizabeth pulled back after maybe two seconds, her eyes flickering back and forth around every contour of Booker's face.

"You really suck at that," Booker said after a while, a smug chuckle sounding afterwards.

"Oh, shut up, you," Elizabeth said quickly, straddling Booker's lap as she attacked his lips with her own. She became gradually better at it, it seemed, and it definitely wasn't too bad when she shoved her tongue inside of Booker's mouth. They toppled over onto the bed eventually, and Elizabeth lay on top as they kissed, and then… they fell asleep.