Bioshock Infinite: What Could Have Been

Chapter 1

Hey everybody, I'm new to FanFiction and thought it'd be fun to try my hand at writing parodies of all these fiction works. I thought my first story would be a parody of Bioshock: Infinite, just cause it takes number 1 on my list of best games I've ever played, plus the story compelled me and I really didn't want the story to end. Kind of like a good book that you don't ever want to put down, only this was better. I would appreciate comments and I'd also appreciate it if you would call out my grammatical errors, and please correct my facts if they're wrong. Hope you like it and more chapters will come I promise!

The storm raged on as the small waves rocked against the tiny rowboat that was being poorly steered by Robert Lutece with his sister, Rosalind Lutece, nagging and yakking at him. Booker sat across from Elizabeth, dumbfounded at all the things she had shown him: his life in the past, his lives in alternate universes, all the mistakes that other Booker Dewitts and Zachary Comstocks have made, and how it all affected Elizabeth. He thought about all of it, the constants and the variables, the things that could have been, and how all of it tied to what was happening right now.

"Booker, wake up…" He heard Elizabeth's smooth voice urge him to open his eyes.

"Booker, wake up… This is where it started…" He snapped out of his little phase and looked around. It was the exact same stormy night that he first started this little endeavor. Bring us the girl… Wipe away the debt… The words rang in his head like a maniacal and agitating demon just trying to anger him. Wipe away the debt… Wipe away the debt… Bring us the girl… Wipe away the debt… He shook that voice out of his head, and came to the horrifying realization:

"I sold you… I sold you…" His eyes were wide with fear. Elizabeth Comstock was Anna Dewitt; Booker's lost daughter. That explained the AD carved into his hand. He looked at her sitting across from him, and noticed the sadness in her expression and her head low.

The Luteces, hearing all of this, stopped bickering at each other and decided to join the conversation.

Rosalind Lutece turned to Booker and in her unmistakable British accent tried to lighten the mood a little bit. "To your credit, you did try to weasel out of the deal." It didn't help.

Booker felt angry. He felt resentment towards Comstock. "This is all Comstock's fault…" Then he got an idea. "What if I went back… and killed him before he did any of this?"

Elizabeth's sadness immediately turned into shocking surprise, and Robert Lutece stopped rowing, while Rosalind whirled around so fast, you could hear the wind rush by her face. It got so quiet for a moment that all you could hear was the thunder, the waves, and the rain splashing against the Luteces' rain suits.

The Luteces tried to talk him out of it, for they knew what fate lied ahead of him with this choice. "Things get set in motion," urged Rosalind.

"How would one know how far back to go," questioned Robert, desperately trying to put persuasion in his voice.

Elizabeth was too shocked to say anything.

"That's the only way to do it," Booker said, with determination in his voice. "Go back to when he was born… and I'll smother the son of a bitch in his crib."

Elizabeth and the Luteces then realized that there was nothing they could do anymore. He was determined to do this, and he wasn't going to let anyone stand in his way. Robert began to row again, and Rosalind just turned back towards her brother. Elizabeth still couldn't say anything.

They pulled up to the dock and Booker looked up. It was the exact same lighthouse that he walked into, which led to the rocket chair contraption that took him to Columbia. He climbed the ladder first, then Elizabeth. He walked towards the lighthouse, his clothes soaked, as Elizabeth followed behind him, also drenched. Booker never looked back to check and see if she was following him like he usually did. He just kept walking with angry steps and a fire in his stare. As he started walking up the lighthouse steps, Elizabeth's heart started pounding so hard, she thought it might tear through her skin. She was scared and wanted to stop this.

"Booker… Booker, wait!" She tried to get his attention, but he didn't respond. He didn't even look back. He just kept slowly walking up the steps. Dammit, say something, she screamed in her head. As they got closer to the doors, Elizabeth ran to get up in front of him. She saw the enraged look in his eyes and her heart rate doubled. He put his hand on the door as if starting to open it, but Elizabeth put her hand on top of his.

"Booker…" she said, this time getting his attention. He stopped and looked into her eyes. The look she gave him was heart-melting, and it seemed to put that fire in his eyes out like a light. His expression turned somber as he looked into her big blue eyes. God, those eyes could lose you and pull you in so far, that you'd never come back. "Are you sure this is what you want?" She put as much emotion, sorrow, and pleading in her voice as possible.

Booker stopped and thought about it. He thought about all that he and Elizabeth had been through in Columbia: all the times she had been kidnapped and how he had heroically saved her every time. All the times that she had saved his life sometimes. All the times that Elizabeth stayed close to Booker when she was scared, and the times Booker comforted her when she needed it. All the times they fought about their differences, and the times they made up about it later. But mostly the time Elizabeth realized she needed Booker, and the way she felt.

Booker turned all of this over in his head; should he go on with this or not? He thought maybe no, but then he remembered the doors and alternate universes, his sins and bad choices that he made in this universe and the other universes. He thought about Comstock, how he had locked Elizabeth in that damned tower for almost twenty years, and how he used her as a treasure, as something for other people to just look at, giving her no chance to interact with people. He hated him for that. But it wasn't just Comstock who put her there in the first place. He remembered that in other worlds, Booker Dewitt was also Zachary Comstock.

The Prophet, the False Shepherd, and the Lamb of Columbia. There was always a lighthouse, always a man, and always a city. Constants and variables. He was starting to put all the pieces together. He felt terrible for what he had done to Elizabeth and to Anna. He wanted to do something to make everything better; to repay Elizabeth for everything he had done to her. He knew that if he didn't do something to fix everything, he would resent himself for the rest of his life, and he would never forgive himself. He would turn out as a different person. Something worse than Comstock. He would probably end up a bitter old man; a jobless drunkard, never finding happiness or love. He would die alone. And these thoughts compelled him to go through with it. Bring us the girl… And wipe away the debt.

He was now conflicted between two fates: both of which would not turn out with a happily ever after. He didn't know what to do. Then he realized that there was another option: if he was worried about his destiny, then screw it. Write a new destiny. He then got another idea. An idea that didn't involve any of this. An idea that would make him AND Elizabeth happy. It was perfect.

He concentrated on where he wanted to go. He concentrated so hard, his head started to hurt. He pushed the door open. The white light shown bright through the large wooden doors as they found themselves in the airship dedicated to Lady Comstock. He let out a relieved sigh as Elizabeth looked around dumbfounded and confused. Booker walked over to the controls and attempted to move the mechanisms, but he couldn't.

"No need for that," he heard a familiar British accent behind him. He whirled around to find the Lutece twins standing behind him and Elizabeth. "We went ahead and got that pesky task out of the way for you," said Rosalind, saying it with appreciation in her tone.

"An excellent choice by the way," said a cheerful Robert Lutece.

"Thanks guys," said Booker. Those twins did get on his nerves, but they were helpful. REALLY helpful.

"Booker, what's going on?" Elizabeth asked, a little nervous.

The twins turned to her. "Oh don't worry." "We think you'll enjoy the outcome of this fate." Then they both said simultaneously: "And we hope you enjoy your flight." They disappeared out of thin air at the last word.

"What did they mean by that," asked Elizabeth, walking towards Booker. Normally she was the one with all the answers, now she finally got how Booker felt most of the time.

"Don't worry about that," he said with a smirk on his face and a twinkle in his eye. He knew that she would love this. But they would have to wait a day, maybe a day and half for him to see the look on her face.

He then looked down at his clothes and thought he might want to change or something until his clothes dried off. "There's a back room in this thing, isn't there?"

"Mhm," mumbled Elizabeth, pointing to the door leading to it. He walked into the back room and closed the door. He looked around a little bit, and he noticed a stairway leading further down into the cabin of the ship, a coat rack and an armoire with people's purses, valuables, shoes; there was a desk with a typewriter and a Morse code transmitter. There was another door that led to a tiny bathroom. In the chair that sat near the desk, he found Elizabeth's old clothes: the white button-down shirt, the blue collar, the black belt, and her blue skirt, with her black stockings and shoes. They were a schoolgirl's clothes. In the bathroom he found the scissors that Elizabeth used to stab Daisy Fitzroy to save a little boy from being killed. He also found long strands of brown hair in the sink, and black dye. He knew immediately this was Elizabeth's hair. Then he found the blue ribbon that tied her hair back in that cute little ponytail she had.

He stopped sight-seeing for a little bit and started to strip down. He threw his vest to the side and started to unbutton his shirt. He took it off and threw his under shirt off too. He started to unbuckle his belt when he heard the door open behind him. He turned and found Elizabeth in the doorway, with her mouth open a little. His bare chest was exposed, revealing his six-pack and massive biceps and forearms. His somewhat large hands were frozen on his belt buckle as he stood there too, neither one of them knew what to do.

"Uh, I just had to use the bathroom," she said quietly, looking at his chest a little bit and blushing a tad.

Booker waved his hand toward the bathroom door. "Go right ahead."

"Thanks." She hurried into the bathroom and closed the door. He figured he'd better not be at the door for multiple reasons.

He took his stuff and followed the stairway down and adventuring a little bit into the lower levels of the airship. There were separate cabins, kind of like a hotel, and they were all lined up in a long hallway like a hotel. He went into the first one on the left. It wasn't a large room; it just had a small bed in one corner, and a bathroom in the other, and an empty closet in the other.

"Perfect." He threw the clothes he had already taken off on the floor, and continued again on his belt buckle. He let the belt hit the ground with a metal Clump! He slid his pants and boxers off, took his clothes into the bathroom, hung them over the shower rail, and turned the water on, trying not to get his clothes wet. The water was warm. He bathed quickly, but he went slow enough to give his clothes time to dry a little bit. He finished, got a towel and dried off. His clothes were pretty dry by then, so he slid everything back on except for the vest and over shirt. He had his black with white striped pants and his white tee shirt back on. He went back upstairs to the back room and found Elizabeth at the desk reading some kind of book. A travel guide perhaps?

He brushed his damp brown hair to the side. "Ahem."

She looked up and found him in the same clothes. "Really?"

"What?" He threw his hands to the side.

"You didn't change clothes?"

"Well, you're one to talk," he said, letting her know that she hadn't really expanded her wardrobe either.

She closed the book and set it on the table. "Fine, we'll find some more clothes in… wherever you're taking me…" she said.

"You been downstairs?"

"No, not really."

"There's rooms, and maybe a kitchen if we can find something to eat." As if on cue, his stomach rumbled loudly, and so did Elizabeth's. Neither of them had eaten in a while. She followed him downstairs and they walked down the long hallway, hoping it would lead to a kitchen. When they got to the end, they found a massive high-ceiling room, with tables and chairs and a lit stage with instruments. A large crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling and sparkled magnificently. The wooden floors and walls were horribly stained, and the tables and chairs were either thrown over on their sides or broken into pieces. The instruments weren't in as bad of condition as the rest of the items in the mess hall, but they weren't in the best shape either.

They found a bar, with racks and racks full of wine, liquor, scotch, champagne, any alcoholic beverages they could think of, this place had it. Booker found a bottle of his favorite scotch and immediately went for it."

"Come to papa, you sexy son of a bitch."

"I'll actually just keep looking, but thanks for the compliment," Elizabeth jumped in jokingly.

Booker shot her a look that read Very funny. He grabbed the bottle, pulled the cork off with his bare hands, and took a massive gulp all in a matter of seconds.

"Whoa, slow down there tiger." Elizabeth worried about his alcohol consumption and dreaded the thought of him getting alcohol poisoning.

"Don't worry, it takes a LOT to get me drunk," countered Booker. "Let's get back to finding food."

They found two metal doors that looked like it led to the kitchen itself. Thank God it did. They started groping the nearest shelves for whatever was edible, and they found quite a bit, but most of it had to be cooked. Booker didn't even know what he was grabbing most of the time. With his scotch in one hand and looking the other way, he grabbed an onion off the shelf without him knowing it. He put it in his mouth and took a massive bite out of it. Big mistake. Tears immediately flooded his eyes as he spit it out and coughed like he was trying to choke up a lung. Elizabeth heard this and ran towards him. She saw the onion and had to try hard not to laugh.

Booker saw this and said through coughs: "Don't-"

Elizabeth interrupted him. "I didn't say anything! You gonna be okay?"

Booker got his bearings together as much as possible. "Yeah, just give me a minute." He took deep, sharp breaths and trying to get the gas from the onion out of his mouth. Elizabeth got a nearby washcloth and gave it to him, and rubbing his shoulders. Booker wiped his face vigorously, and took a sip of his precious scotch.

"Better." He kicked the onion away. You little bastard.

Elizabeth laughed. Booker always knew how to make her laugh. They kept looking for food, and found a pantry. They opened it to find bread, grapes, apples, cheese, and basically French food. Booker grabbed a loaf of bread, warm, crisp, and great smell. He turned to face Elizabeth, and he split the bread in half handing one piece to Elizabeth. She took it, and bit off the end with a smile. It tasted fresh, like it just came out of the oven. They helped themselves to the other small snacks in that little pantry, but they knew that everything in this pantry could fill them up. They were that desperate for food.

"Hang on," Elizabeth spoke up. She went to the kitchen, leaving Booker in the pantry, to this sink where dirty pots rested waiting to be washed, next to a stove top oven. Elizabeth proceeded to open a tear to another world. She didn't open it all the way, because she didn't really have to. The smell of noodles and sauce passed through the rift in the world, and filled the entire kitchen. Booker stopped dead in his tracks and hurried toward the smell. He found Elizabeth with two large plates of spaghetti in her hands.

"Got us the perfect dinner," she said proudly as she closed the tear. Booker lipped his lips and took one of the plates. They walked back into the mess hall and fixed a table and two chairs, right next to the stage.

They ate fast and quietly. When they were done, Booker grabbed a small piece of wood the size of a toothpick and used it to pick his teeth. Elizabeth looked around the room a little bit. Then she recalled a memory from Columbia, and thought about the instruments on the stage. What if…

"Do you remember when we were at that bar, and we went into the back room…"

Booker immediately recalled that night like it was yesterday. "We found that homeless orphan boy. Then I played the guitar while you sang to lure him out and feed him." Elizabeth started quietly humming the song she sang to that poor little kid to herself. Booker loved to hear her sing. Her voice alone was intoxicating. He wanted to get her to actually sing the words now. He looked to the stage and saw that most of the instruments were damaged, except for a piano. He got up, went towards it, and started striking the keys in tune to Elizabeth's humming, and that was the key that released the full power of her voice.

"Is a better home awaiting,

In the sky, in the sky?"

She stopped at the first chorus. "Booker, I didn't know you played piano."

"Well, my parents were kind of like music freaks, so they thought I would have the purest musical talent out of all of them." He started striking all of the keys closest to his hand and played a flurry of notes in perfect harmony. All with one hand.

"Well, they were right," said a surprised Elizabeth. She got up from her chair and got up on the stage with Booker, grabbed a chair, and sat down. Booker, with his free hand, adjusted the piano seat to fit him well and sat down next to her.

"Play something for me," she cooed. Booker stopped playing his little warm up and thought about what he could play. He didn't really know a lot of songs, and he wanted to play something she would like. He wanted to sing something to her this time, but what would he sing about? Then it hit him. He would sing a song about her, and… her life in the tower. He started to come up with lyrics at lightning speed. He started striking the keys and singing.

"She's watchin' the taxi driver, he pulls away…"

She heard this and thought about Songbird, how he had been her only companion for all those years.

"She's been locked up inside her apartment a hundred days…"

She thought about her time in the tower, and wanting all those years just to go outside.

"She says, 'Yeah he's still coming just a little bit late; he got stuck at the Laundromat washin' his cape…"

She remembered reading books about heroic deeds and how the man always came to the woman's rescue. She wanted something like that to happen to her one day. She'd wait, and wait, and wait. Nobody came to her rescue for 19 years, until Booker.

"She's just watchin' the clouds roll by and they spell a name… Like Louis Lane…

And she smiles…"

He looks at her.

"Oh, the way she smiles…"

A pause. Booker looks up with a smile. What he sees is unbelievable. Elizabeth smiled. Not just any smile though. A smile that nobody would ever see in their lifetime. A smile that would put supermodels or those with perfect teeth's smiles shame. A smile that seemed to give life to the room. A smile that would bring light to the darkest cave. A smile that made the world stop and stare. For the two seconds pause, Booker saw this smile and took it in as much as he could, knowing that he would probably never see it again. The most beautiful smile that he or anyone else had ever seen. That smile made his heart beat loud in his chest. And he loved it. God, she was beautiful. He continued with the song:

"She's talkin' to angels,"

Elizabeth would talk to herself in the tower…

"Countin' the stars,"

She would count the stars at night…

"Makin' a wish on a shooting star,"

She would make a wish every time she saw a shooting star at night…

"She's dancin' with strangers,"

She was so happy to finally be out of the tower, she danced with those people on Battleship Bay…

"Fallin' apart,"

She was stressed about first leaving her tower, because she was worried about getting caught. And if that happened, she'd be back up there. Alone…

"Waitin' for Superman to pick her up, in his arms…"

She realized then that this song was about her. How sweet, she thought to herself.

"In his arms… Waiting for Superman.

She's out on the corner tryin' to catch a glimpse, nothings makin' sense,

She's been chasin' an answer, a sign lost in the abyss, this metropolis,

She says, 'Yeah, he's still comin' just a little bit late; he got stuck at the Five & Dime savin' the day,

She says, 'If life was a movie, than it wouldn't end like this, left without a kiss,

Still she smiles… Oh, the way she smiles, yeah!

She's talkin' to angels, she's countin' the stars, and makin' a wish on a shooting star,

She's dancin' with strangers, she's fallin' apart, and Waiting for Superman to pick her up,

In his arms… Oh, in his arms… She's waiting for Superman

To lift her up, and take her anywhere,

Show her love, and fly her through the air,

Save her now, before it's too late tonight…

Oh, at the speed of light.

Elizabeth moved from the chair to the piano stool, scooted up close to Booker, and laid her head on his shoulder. His voice was beautiful. He got warm inside, and for a second he thought he loved her. He thought that was impossible; there was a major age difference between them: he being 38, and she was just 19. Plus, she was his daughter, and that would lead to incest. He grossed himself out in is head at that thought, but then he remembered that that was only in certain universes. But in this universe he had no recollection of having Anna in the first place. No memories of his wife, or even having a wife, and no memories of him being with a woman that he loved and getting married with. He knew he couldn't love her, but with her head lying on his shoulder so comfortably… she felt warm, and she smelled great. He figured he'd better think about it later. He finished the song:

"And she smiles…

She's talkin' to angels, she's countin' the stars, and makin' a wish on a shooting star,

She's dancin' with strangers, she's fallin' apart,

And waiting for Superman to pick her up, in his arms…

In his arms… She's waiting for Superman,

To lift her up, and take her anywhere!

Show her love, and fly her through the air!

Save her now, before it's too late tonight!

She's waiting for Superman."

His fingers danced on those ivories like they'd been doing it forever. He closed the song with a quiet melody, and struck the final keys. When he finished, Elizabeth looked up at him, and he looked down at her. They looked into each other's eyes. Their faces were so close they could almost feel each other's breath against their faces. Now Booker wanted to kiss her. Right then and there.

You fucking idiot, have some strength! He screamed in his head. But her eyes were sucking him in like a black hole, threatening to trap him for eternity. She seemed to have a power to turn his brain off completely, and make all the blood in his brain go south. Elizabeth could see it in his eyes, he was fighting back against something. She was starting to have feelings for him.

It's working? Oh my God, it's actually working! I'm turning him on! She was proud of herself at what she was accomplishing here. She wondered how far she could take it…

Say something sexy, she strategized. She thought about what she could say to turn him on more, something romantic…

Don't fall for it… She's trying to get in your head… Booker tried to think of anything that could make him stop… I have self-control, I have self-control, I have self-control…

"The sun, it's sparkling in your eyes," Elizabeth suddenly said, in a soothing, sexy, and seductive tone.

Dammit, I'm a goner, he thought to himself. He felt her hand rest on his thigh, and she moved it back and forth slowly. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit! He felt a throbbing in between his legs, slowly but surely, growing. He could feel it, and he thought Elizabeth could too. He tried to think of anything, absolutely anything that could turn him or her off. Could he say anything?

"Ahem," he quickly said, backing up a little bit. "It's getting late, we should… probably get some sleep."

Elizabeth heard this and all of a sudden she felt tired. She'd lost this battle…

"Okay, you're right," she said, accepting that she failed. She could probably go to bed and sleep on it (no pun intended). They both got to their feet and walked back to the rooms. Elizabeth walked in front of Booker. She thought about what she could do to get him thinking about her, or fantasizing about her. Then she had an ingenious idea, something that got all guys' attention. She started popping her hips when she walked. Not too much to let him know that she was trying, she made it look like a voluntary hip-popping.

Booker discovered his eyes shoot straight down to her butt. Moving side-to-side, back and forth, and back and forth… his head started following her butt's movements as it moved. He was like a hypnotized patient being put to sleep off a girl's ass. Thank God that hallway was long. She looked back very slightly, hoping that Booker wouldn't notice. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his head bobbing side-to-side, matching the movements of her butt as it moved. She held back a little laugh, because he looked ridiculous. He looked up, and noticed her watching him. She had to think fast; she looked back up seductively, and turned her head slowly back in front of her.

Holy shit, she's hot. Somewhere in the back of Booker's brain, he wanted to reach a hand out, grab her ass, and grade it. Was this ass an A+: an out of this world perfect ass? Firm, plump, and one that bounced easily? Was this a C- ass? An ass that was small, flat, and didn't move at all? Did she stuff tissues in her panties or something to just make it look big? Or was it a B ass? Just an everyday ass that you could find on every other woman?

Wait, what the hell am I thinking? He scolded himself miserably. He found what he was doing and immediately stopped, shaking the thoughts out of his head. This hallway was longer than they thought. When they finally got to their rooms, Elizabeth looked back at Booker, whose room was across from hers, and with a seductive look and tone, said: "Goodnight."

The way she said it made Booker's heart skip a beat, or two. He took a deep breath and replied with: "G' night." He had to stop himself from saying "gorgeous," and Elizabeth could tell he wanted to say it. She closed her door slowly and said to herself quietly, "Mission accomplished."

Booker ran his fingers through his hair and sighed in frustration. "Yeah, I'm screwed." He closed his door, undressed to his boxers and threw the covers over his head.

Well, this is Chapter 1 of "What Could Have Happened." I had to rewrite this plot 2 times, I did my homework on Booker and Elizabeth, looked over my facts, and drove 'Spelling and Grammar Check' nuts. I also thought it'd be cool if I could put a song in here that related to the Bioshock Infinite story: Daughtry's "Waiting for Superman." It's a really great song, and before you start asking questions, this is NOT going to be a musical. Again, I would really appreciate it if you would leave comments, and I would also appreciate it if you would point out my errors. More chapters are coming, I promise!