For new readers, this story is based off of and is tied into several other pieces of mine. If you're not sure where to start, I'd suggest finding Bioshock Infinite: Unbroken, as well as its prequel Unbroken: Song of Sorrow and the continuation Unbroken: I'm Home. Thanks for checking it out.

Foreword: Hi there, and welcome to my newest story, A Second Chance. If you don't know, this story has its roots in chapter 5 of Those Left Behind, and you may be a little lost here if you haven't read it. There's a lot to say, but I'll get to that afterwards. I am thinking of changing the description for the story, and I will be getting a better cover image later.

May 1, 1959

A long, downcast sigh parts ruby red lips, giving voice to Elizabeth's exhaustion as she trudges through the grime-coated sewers beneath Olympus Heights. The place smells putrid and of decay, as foul as it did when she first entered the sewers, and Elizabeth still occasionally wrinkles her nose at the odor even though her sense of smell has long since been desensitized from constant exposure. And as if the smell wasn't enough, she's exhausted after being on the run for the past day, and the pervasive sense of numbness that's been holding Elizabeth fast leaves her feeling miserable. But there's one emotion that still cuts through the misery, and it burns as hot as ever.

Elizabeth shoots a hateful glare over her shoulder at her 'companion', the man following a few steps behind her and just gazing solemnly ahead. "Of all the people I could end up stuck with, why did it have to be him?" Cursing quietly, Elizabeth takes her hate filled gaze from Zachary Comstock, turning back to the darkened tunnel ahead of her; she and Comstock have been keeping a low profile ever since they escaped from Andrew Ryan and Hephaestus, the Lamb and the Prophet stealing through dark maintenance and service tunnels, crawling through vents and even using the old Rapture Metro for a time to stay hidden, though they've been forced on occasion to slip through more populated areas.

She had been looking over her shoulder each and every time they left the dark tunnels, on the lookout for Ryan Security forces or anyone else who might wish her harm; she has no desire to be caught or meet this 'Atlas' who had purportedly tried to murder the other Elizabeth, and she's certain the man would most likely try to finish the job should he ever get his hands on her. Luckily, they'd managed to avoid contact with anyone during those brief times, though there had been a few close calls.

"We're being hunted, like rats in a leaking maze…" If not for the sense of numbness weighing her down, Elizabeth's sure the thought would have been disheartening, the young brunette breathing another weary, exasperated sigh as she lingers on how disconnected she's feeling. But despite her depressing situation, Elizabeth has yet to say more than two words to the man walking behind her. Comstock's kept quiet as well, only making a few hesitant attempts at conversation when they'd stopped to rest.

"Except to shout warnings…" Elizabeth's features twist into a disgusted scowl; their journey to Olympus heights had been as dangerous as it had been nerve-wracking, and more than a few Splicers had tried to accost them. The citizens of Rapture who'd succumbed to ADAM-induced madness often found refuge in the same forgotten places she and Comstock used to hide from Ryan, attacking Elizabeth and her companion every time without fail.

"And I still had to rely on him…" The very thought turns her stomach as surely as her first whiff of the foul sewer did, Elizabeth's scowl only deepening; she'd been so confident before, in herself, her powers and her sight, but what did that lead to? Her being thrown through a wall by that lumbering behemoth, the beast reminiscent of Songbird; the irony of being killed by something like the creature made to protect her is not lost on Elizabeth.

The memories of her death had returned shortly after escaping Ryan's clutches, and Elizabeth has to wonder if this is how Booker felt whenever he 'remembered' one of his other selves' death.

"And now, what am I left with?" Holding up her right hand, Elizabeth stares forlornly at her restored little finger, "My powers are gone, and the doors are closed… I can't even see them anymore… and I have to depend on that… that monster…" Something stirs within Elizabeth, unexpected emotions pushing through the numbness and causing her eyes to sting; grief, despair and a sense of helplessness.

She'd never wanted to feel this way again, and Elizabeth's reminded all too well of her captivity in Comstock House; she'd also been helpless there, despite the powers she'd had at her fingertips. "After everything I went through with Booker, why am I so… so powerless!" Tears gather at the corner of her eyes, Elizabeth wiping at her nose with the back of her hand and sniffling quietly.

"You alright?"

Comstock's voice is quiet as he asks, the man somehow managing to sound genuinely concerned. But hearing Comstock use that voice just makes Elizabeth's blood boil, the anger helping to push aside her fears and sorrow, and she just shoots the Prophet another hateful glare, "Leave me-"

A growl cuts her off, rumbling in the otherwise silent sewer tunnel. But it doesn't belong to some hungry animal or bestial Splicer; warmth spreads across Elizabeth's cheeks, the Lamb of Columbia touching a hand to her complaining stomach.

Although Comstock's managed to gather a few dollars from the Splicers he'd killed, neither of them have had the luxury of visiting a Circus of Value machine, both the Prophet and Elizabeth surviving on whatever they could scrounge up along the way. Unfortunately, the forgotten recesses of Rapture usually yielded slim pickings, and this sewer had been completely devoid of anything even resembling nourishment.

"Dammit…" Cursing under her breath, Elizabeth hurries down the tunnel and away from Comstock, the clacking of her heels on the stone tile floor echoing in the darkness of the sewer and drowning out the quiet sounds of dripping or flowing water. Though, Elizabeth's hesitant to call the substance flowing down the lowered middle of the tunnels 'water'. The stone walkway on either side of the narrow channel is made up of nested, identical square patterns and divided into quarters, though the furrows making up the designs are nearly filled with gunk and mold.

The embarrassing noise had taken all the air out of her sails, and Elizabeth frowns as the depressing numbness seems to fill the gap anger had left. "The sooner I'm clear of this place, the better…" The tunnel suddenly widens, and Elizabeth takes a right and another left to keep following the channel, the young woman not seeing any other way to go despite the change. And Elizabeth blinks in surprise as she turns the last corner, light streaming into the dank darkness and coming from the top of a sloping ramp. But she has to squint, her eyes sensitive after trudging through the gloom for so long.

"Finally…" Hurrying up the narrow walkway on the side of the ramp, Elizabeth steps out onto the brightly lit tramway of Olympus Heights. And beyond a decorated column rising up to the thick glass and steel frame ceiling lies the entrance to Athena's Glory, the place Elizabeth's been trying to reach for lack of a better option; the place had never been what she'd call a 'home', but Elizabeth still feels a touch better thinking of the suite she used to live in. "At least there's a shower and a bed…"

"Oh my… doesn't she look a fright…? They just let anyone live here now…"

"Indeed… if I didn't know better, I'd think she would be more at home with the dregs living in Apollo Square. But I've seen her around before…"

"Huh?" Looking around the busy tramway, Elizabeth spots a pair of well-dressed women waiting for the tram near Athena's Glory and whispering while sneaking glances at her, both of them looking right at home in Olympus Heights. And it takes the exhausted brunette a moment to catch their meaning, Elizabeth looking down at herself hesitantly; her long-sleeved white blouse is now anything but, the accumulation of the past day's crawling through Rapture's underbelly leaving her ensemble tarnished black, brown and gray. "It's a miracle I didn't get caught on anything…"

Footsteps come from down the slope, and Elizabeth's mood darkens as Comstock comes up behind her. At any other time, Elizabeth would refuse to have her back to the bastard, but after the events of the past day, she's come to realize there's not much choice in the matter; Comstock seems dead set on following her, and the former Prophet seems to have no idea where to go or what to do now. "Although… I don't have any grand plans of my own, either…"

But Elizabeth shakes her head, refusing to let her thoughts dwell on Comstock, not now; she can barely remember what it's like to be among people again, of being among normal folk going about their lives. It's a far cry from the forgotten passages and dead Splicers she'd been facing, both during the past day and on New Year's Eve, and the normalcy of everyday lives somehow gives the abused Elizabeth a small sense of comfort.

"Can you believe those goddamn Parasites? As if the Kashmir bombing and Atlas' fight with Ryan weren't enough…"

Elizabeth stops at the mention of Atlas, her eyes darting around the lively tramway until she spots a stern-looking man in a gray business suit and fedora stepping out of Athena's Glory, a woman wearing a long-sleeved yellow and purple dress with short blonde curls at his side. One of the small, windowed trams is pulling up on Elizabeth's right as they approach, and the young woman gets the sense of a husband going off to work. "What time is it, anyway?"

"I know! The nerve of some people…" The blonde woman nods emphatically, her voice sounding to Elizabeth a little high-strung, "It's bad enough, with all the chaos they've caused, but to collapse the tunnel to the bathysphere station? The folks who live down that wing can still use it, but the rest of us have to use the Apollo Square station! Do they really hate us so much?"

"They're Parasite, dear; they're all alike, wanting from others what they can't get on their own. But you'll see," the fedora wearing man smirks, wrapping an arm around the woman's shoulders, "Ryan will see that they get their just desserts." He gives the blonde a quick peck on the cheek, "I'll be going to the race track after work, dear."

Elizabeth doesn't hear the woman's reply, her thoughts turning to the blocked off bathysphere station as the tram pulls up. "Damn… well, it's not as if I have pressing need to go anywhere…" A sigh escapes her, Elizabeth rubbing her face groggily.

"Hey, Elizabeth," Comstock's voice draws a scowl across Elizabeth's face as he steps into her field of vision, this twisted look-alike of Booker fixing those pale blue eyes on her, "what are we doing here?" A fair question, but Elizabeth's not about to humor him; she just glares at him again before stepping away, making for the entrance of Athena's glory. A sigh comes from behind her, Comstock muttering just loud enough for her to hear, "Lead the way…"

The courtyard of Athena's Glory looks much like its counterpart on the other side of Olympus Heights, the luxurious Mercury Suites. Fittingly, the place named after a goddess of wisdom and war is designed to evoke those images, the walls, ceiling and railings bear carvings and murals depicting books, a spear armed woman clad in armor, or the same woman wearing robes and extending an open hand. But little of this matters to Elizabeth at the moment, the Lamb trudging past the ten foot tall statue of Athena that stands in the center of the courtyard. A Circus of Value machine's prerecorded sales pitch plays from somewhere in the courtyard, and Elizabeth's stomach growls quietly at the thought of getting something to eat; but the desire to return to her apartment trumps her desire for a meal.

Beyond the bronze statue lies the elevator, facing the tall, spear-wielding goddess and the entrance to Athena's Glory, but it only goes up to the penthouse suite. "No, Cohen wouldn't have shelled out for the penthouse, not for a mere disciple… the rest of us have to climb upstairs." Talking to herself quietly, Elizabeth steps past the elevator and starts up the ramp that goes around the central column that houses the elevator shaft.

"Your place is all the way up here, huh?" Comstock follows close behind as she climbs, still speaking with Booker's voice and trying again to make conversation. "How'd you swing this?"

Somehow, Elizabeth just doesn't have the energy to come up with a scathing remark or angry retort. "Spent two months as Cohen's 'disciple', trying to get a line on his trafficking ring. The 'maestro' arranged for me to be close by while I was under his tutelage."

"Cohen, huh? So that's how you were acquainted with that lunatic… didn't much care for getting zapped by that contraption of his…"

Elizabeth glances sideways at Comstock as he talks, choosing not to respond both because she doesn't care to get caught up in conversation with the man, and because she doesn't fancy giving Comstock any more cause to use that stolen voice of his; it'd been hard, leading Comstock to Sally while having to listen to him use Booker's voice and manner of speech.

As she makes it to the second floor, Elizabeth stops on the landing and leans against the railing to massage her aching feet as Comstock comes up beside her. But she turns quickly and glares back at him, stopping the Prophet in his tracks; the thought of leaving Comstock here and now crosses Elizabeth's mind, "All I'd have to do is yell 'I never want to see you again!' and run the rest of the way…" But it's a fleeting, unreasonable notion, and she knows it; Comstock won't be deterred so easily, Elizabeth having experienced firsthand how persistent the man is. Even if she managed to shake him, then Elizabeth would be all alone against whatever came after her next.

"And there will be..." Her gaze falls, and Elizabeth shakes her head while still leaning against the railing. She has the wherewithal to not say any of what she's thinking, Elizabeth glancing at Comstock one last time before starting up the ramp again.

The apartments of Athena's Glory aren't as spacious and sprawling as those populated by the movers and shakers of Rapture, a fact that's plainly recognizable as they go; each side of the courtyard has two of the elegant doors with brass plates bearing the residents' names, Elizabeth stepping across the bridge from the central pillar and taking a left, passing a pair of doors belonging to neighbors she'd never bothered getting to know.

The apartment suite Sander Cohen had provided her with is on the far left side of the third floor, the out of the way location near the top of Athena's Glory necessitating a bit more walking than Elizabeth's tired, sore feet care for, and the heels she's wearing don't help matters one bit. And while the apartment was no more a 'home' to Elizabeth than she had truly been Cohen's 'Songbird', she still heaves a surprisingly heartfelt sigh of relief as her key miraculously turns the lock. "Thank goodness… huh, I wonder if Cohen's still footing the bill… or maybe they just haven't gotten around to changing the locks."

But her relief is muted some when she steps inside; most of what little possessions she'd kept in her apartment lie strewn about on the floor, and Elizabeth recognizes the telltale sign of a hasty, reckless search. There's no sign of forced entry, and Elizabeth can only guess that this would be the handiwork of Ryan Security.

"Someone ransacked this place proper…" Stepping in behind her, Comstock mutters quietly, drawing another scowl from Elizabeth. She'd almost forgotten for a moment that she wasn't alone, and she turns to face her 'companion' slowly. "So… what's our next move?"

"Our? Our?!" All the anger that's been festering over the past twenty-four hours suddenly flare up all at once, Elizabeth's exhaustion forgotten as she hisses furiously through grit teeth.

"What could have possessed you to even THINK that there's an 'our' or 'us'? After everything you've done, to me, to Anna… how can you… there is no us! You did save me from Ryan's doctors, and I'll admit, I might not have made it this far on my own, but what could have given you the sense that this is anything more than an arrangement of necessity?!" She's yelling outright in his face now, Comstock not flinching one bit as Elizabeth vents all of her pent up anger and fury, "Make no mistake, Comstock; you are a means to an end, no more. I'll part company with you at the earliest convenience!"

Staring into Comstock's pale blue eyes with all the rage and hate she can muster, Elizabeth still can't help but see Booker when she looks at the man; there are few visible distinctions between the man before her and the father who set Elizabeth free, at great cost to himself. Aside from the white hair and blue eyes, Comstock has Booker's appearance down almost exactly, the red bowtie in place of the ascot the only part of the outfit that isn't exactly what Elizabeth's father wore. And that infuriates Elizabeth even more, the hungry, tired young woman balling her hands into fists at her sides as a new wave of anger courses through her veins.

"Why… why did you even want to become Booker?! Why not someone else, like you did before?!" Elizabeth's' eyes dart down to the back of Comstock's right hand, the stylized AD tattoo still there even after being resurrected by the Vita-Chamber. That shallow act of penance perfectly sums up how genuine Comstock's guilt is; Booker had branded the initials into the back of his hand, a permanent reminder burned into his flesh that would stay with him always, but Comstock's marking is all too temporary. The tattoo could be erased, simply and totally, and the ink will eventually wear and become distorted.

"Stop… stop using his voice!" Despite her anger, tears well up in Elizabeth's eyes as she rages, spilling down her cheeks and leaving twin trails of warmth, "Stop using his words! Stop using his mannerisms! Stop… stop using his face!"

Before she knows it, Elizabeth's pounding on Comstock's chest as she sobs, the dark-haired young woman torn between wanting to lash out at him and break down in tears; so far, she's doing both and making a poor showing of either. Comstock doesn't move, doesn't try to stop her or even offer an excuse, the Prophet just silently standing there as Elizabeth hammers ineffectually on his chest.

"You… you aren't Booker! You'll NEVER be… never be Booker!"

As the last, weak blow lands on Comstock, Elizabeth stumbles back, struggling to get the words out between her sobs and gasps for air. She's angry, she's distraught, she's confused and hurting, and all Elizabeth can do about it is rail against the former Prophet. "It doesn't matter… how much you wish to forget, doesn't matter how guilty you feel! You're Comstock, and I'll never, ever forgive you for what you did to me, to Anna and to Booker!"

The rational part of her mind tries to tell her that this Comstock wasn't the one who locked her up in Monument Tower or condemned her to six months of torturous conditioning in Comstock House, but it's a small, quiet voice in the face of her pain and sorrow. He would have imprisoned her, he would have tortured her, if given the chance. And most of all, he's still responsible for the death of Anna, that haunting moment permanently etched into her memory.

But Comstock still doesn't say anything in his defense, the Prophet just weathering her wrath and staring back at Elizabeth with those hateful, pale blue eyes. His expression is plainly one of guilt, but Elizabeth doesn't care; the man's a liar, a killer and a monster, and even if this isn't a ruse, he deserves the pain and guilt he's suffering a thousand, no, a million times over.

"Why are you even following me?!" Spitting the words a she tries to catch her breath, Elizabeth bites back another sob and shoots another glare at the false 'Booker' before her, "Why aren't you off looking for your Sally again, huh? Did you abandon her because you remembered what a bastard you are, or are you too focused on your precious 'Lamb' now?!"

Elizabeth doesn't wait for an answer, instead crossing her arms angrily and turning her back on Comstock. But even as she steps away from her 'companion', Elizabeth's hit by a wave of weakness; she's totally spent, physically and emotionally. All she wants to do is to climb into bed and forget it all.

"I'm… I'm going to rest. Do whatever you want, I just don't want to see your face." Stepping towards her bedroom, Elizabeth touches her right hand to the solid, brown door and heaves a quiet sigh.

"Elizabeth," pausing as Comstock finally speaks up, Elizabeth shoots another glare at him as he hesitantly continues, "I'm so sorry…" Elizabeth cuts him off with an angry shake of her head, stepping into the bedroom and slamming the door shut.

The moment the door slams shut, Elizabeth practically collapses against the swirling blue and green patterned wall, the anger that had bolstered her fatigued body and spirit disappearing like a dream and leaving the former Lamb of Columbia feeling empty and drained. It takes her a good minute or two to muster the strength to push herself off the bedroom wall, Elizabeth trudging over to the small closet near the bed. Even though she has no illusions about being able to stay here for long, Elizabeth doesn't much care for fouling the blanket and sheets of her bed.

"Can't imagine I'll have time to throw this in the washer…" Elizabeth sighs as she strips off her grimy white blouse, letting it fall to the floor as she works on the skirt. With her dirty ensemble piled up in the corner of the bedroom, Elizabeth pulls on a plain white nightgown and heaves a long, weary sigh as the simple garment settles into place on her slender frame; the bedroom looks just as she remembers, weak, blue light filtering in from a sole window, giving her a view of Rapture. It doesn't take long for Elizabeth to end up beneath the covers once she's changed, the exhausted brunette already falling asleep the moment he rests her head on the pillow.

As her consciousness begins to fade into the pleasant haze of unconsciousness, Elizabeth's thoughts turn to the other her and Booker, her mind trying to imagine the life they're enjoying together. And that causes a pang of heartache, Elizabeth's brow furrowing for a moment as her descent into sleep is briefly disturbed; there's little she wouldn't give to be with her Booker instead of the imposter in the next room. But sleep won't be denied, pulling her into its embrace as one last thought crosses Elizabeth's mind, "I wonder… I wonder if the real me is happy…"

Opening her eyes slowly, Elizabeth blinks, finding herself flat on her back and staring up at the green and blue ceiling. She hasn't a clue as to when she first regained consciousness, the first thing her mind seems able to comprehend being the ceiling she stares at this very moment, and Elizabeth groans groggily as she tries to sit up. But with her mind only just beginning to shake off the cobwebs left in sleep's wake, it takes Elizabeth a couple seconds to realize where she is.

"That's right… I'm in my bed, in my apartment…" A yawn interrupts her groggy voice, Elizabeth looking around sleepily once it's past. "Huh… judging by how thirsty I am… I've been asleep a good long while. Maybe a full night's sleep… wait, what?"

Blinking in what little surprise her sleep-addled mind can conjure up, Elizabeth stares at the desk that rests against the wall, directly in front of the foot of her bed; on the sleek, reddish-brown surface lies her long-sleeved, button-down white blouse and black skirt, folded neatly and miraculously clean.

"How did… who washed these?" Looking around the bedroom as her bare feet touch down on the soft, sea green carpet, Elizabeth half expects to see an eternally unperturbed pair of redheaded twins or even a Tear as she wonders. "I did have that dream here… ah, don't be silly, Elizabeth; why would Booker come here just to clean my outfit?" The Lutece twins might do such a thing, but somehow, Elizabeth can't imagine them doing so without appearing right about now.

Elizabeth grins slightly as she casts a suspicious eye around the room, certain that the twins won't appear now that she's thought that, and she shakes her head a moment later. "Maybe I should get cleaned up properly… a shower would be nice…" But another thought occurs to Elizabeth as she approaches her laundered outfit; Comstock's out there, and she doesn't much like the idea of appearing in front of him wearing nothing but a nightgown and a frown.

"Ah… hell with it…" Gathering up her ensemble and a few additional, necessary garments, Elizabeth peers out into the living room for a moment before stealing across the short distance between the bedroom and bathroom. As far as she can tell, Comstock's nowhere in the room, though she does notice something out of place; what looks to be his blue vest is draped over the back of her couch. But she doesn't linger on it; Elizabeth instead eases shut the bathroom door and deposits her bundle of clothing on the sink's countertop.

The black-haired, pale skinned young woman stares into the mirror for a moment; her reflection doesn't look half as bad as Elizabeth had expected, at least where her hair and face are concerned. Her face only bears a smudge here and there, and her long, dark curls only look to have a couple patches of dried something or other in them.

"Well… suppose I might have to change the pillow case later…" Grinning at her own reflection before stepping away from the sink, Elizabeth reaches into the shower and takes hold of the hot water knob, turning the brass fixture nearly all the way. And to a strange measure of delight at such a simple thing, hot water comes pouring out of the showerhead at a steady pace, the cozy bathroom quickly filling up with a thin, misty haze as the warmth mixes with the otherwise cool air.

Elizabeth takes her time, enjoying the heat washing over her as the hot water scours away the filth and grime she's collected over a day of running and hiding. The smell of lavender suffuses the warm misty air, the scent of her shampoo and the heat caressing her soothes Elizabeth's frayed nerves, and the oppressive numbness that had clung to her for what feels like an eternity begins to fade after a long rest and the shower's warmth. "Ahh… that's better…" Grinning as she starts rinsing her hair, Elizabeth lets her mind wander now that she has a moment's respite, "If only I had time for a bath..."

By the time Elizabeth steps out of the shower, nearly an hour has come and gone, the young woman still sleepily toweling off her damp locks as she gets dressed. And for the first time in a long while, Elizabeth feels whole again, breathing a long, contented sigh as she drops the towel on the countertop. Between the restful sleep and the cleansing shower, the scent of lavender still lingering in the air, it doesn't surprise the young brunette that she feels alive again, the fatigue and emotional numbness melting away.

True, she's still trapped in an insane city beneath the sea and being hunted by the ruler of this underwater cage, but Elizabeth can worry about how to escape once she's enjoyed herself to her hearts content. "Not much point in dwelling on it," talking to herself as she combs her fingers through her still slightly damp hair, Elizabeth grins again, "I've enough time to worry about it, after all…"

Still, her spirits are dampened a touch as she puts on the final touches; Elizabeth's pulled on new shoes, undergarments, stockings and her freshly cleaned blouse and skirt, only to stop and stare at the red ribbon dejectedly. "The Vita-Chambered restored my finger... why couldn't it have brought back my brooch?"

The silver brooch bearing a bird cameo had been the one thing that was truly her own in Rapture, and when Elizabeth had realized it was missing as she and Comstock were escaping Hephaestus, she'd very nearly turned back in a panic. All she can think of is that it must have been taken, and Elizabeth has a sneaking suspicion that she knows who it was; those damnable twins.

Sighing quietly, Elizabeth slips the ribbon around her neck and under her blouse's collar, tying it up quickly before resting her hands on either side of the sink again; Comstock, Ryan and the monsters that call Rapture home await her outside, and Elizabeth can only try to prepare herself for the trials to come. "No time to be wasting on sentiment…" Drawing her lips back into a tight line, Elizabeth takes hold of the doorknob and pulls the door open, stepping out quietly.

As determined and prepared as Elizabeth thinks she is, what awaits her outside proves her preparations wanting; the familiar sound of a Tear greets her the moment the door opens, and Elizabeth's eyes go wide as she sees one opening in the middle of her living room. What comes through the Tear confuses Elizabeth even more, a woman flying through it and landing hard on the carpet.

"Least the floor's comfy…" A redheaded girl dressed in a mix of Columbian blue and Vox red mumbles into the sea green carpet, and Elizabeth can barely comprehend what she's seeing; another form rests on the redhead's back, Elizabeth recognizing the hair, the white blouse and blue skirt of the second girl immediately. And as the first looks up, her red hair tied up in a braid hanging over her shoulder and resting on the carpet, green eyes go just as wide as Elizabeth's in surprise. A nasty scar runs down the right side of her face, the girl looking to have had a rough time of it.

"Who are you…? No… HOW are you here?" Elizabeth stammers as she stares back at the newcomer. And the lady Vox can only stammer herself, her thick Irish accent tickling Elizabeth's ears.

"E-Elizabeth?"

Author's Note: And now we've caught up with where Change of Heart's last chapter left off, Elizabeth coming face to face with her younger self and Abigail. She's already got a lot on her plate, and this just gives her even more questions that need answers. So, there's a few things I'd like to talk about, first being that this Elizabeth is still pretty much the Burial at Sea episode 1 incarnation, hence all the anger she has for Comstock. Of course, now she knows there was another her that appeared after her death, and I can't imagine that she wouldn't have some existential problems with a 'real' Elizabeth out there.

As for Comstock, we only really got to see a little of how he felt towards Elizabeth once had his memories back in episode 1, but the more I thought on it, the less I could see him being anything less than guilt-ridden when with Elizabeth. Of course, whether or not the guilt will have an affect on him is anyone's guess. With the two of them stuck in Rapture before the Fall and at the height of the Civil War, there's plenty of opportunities for him to show his true colors.

As usual, I'll be making additional checks at a later date, and as I mentioned above, I may make changes to the opening summary and will be looking for a better cover art later. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy the story.