All of his life, Jack has never felt peace.

He doesn't even know what it is, really.

He supposes that calm feeling he had sometimes felt in his memories could have been peace. But then again, those memories were fake, planted there as yet another one of Fontaine's schemes, which meant that that feeling of peace had been fake as well.

He has never known it, that sense of calm and contentedness. He has never known peace, not true peace, anyways. The brief moments he has thought of this is when he has had time away from the children, the children that he has rescued and is now raising, with the occasional help of Tenenbaum.

That is not to say that Jack isn't happy. Quite the contrary, in fact. Every time he hears Masha playing the piano, or Leta painting one of her beautiful landscapes, his heart swells with pride. Whenever he looks at Sally, playing with her dolls, or listens to Adelaide singing while coloring, or sees Emma reading a book, he knows that although this is not the life he had thought of for himself, he is content. His girls, his darling little girls who are not so little anymore, are happy, and so is he.

At first, he is afraid, living in fear that this is yet another illusion created by Fontaine to trick him into thinking that it's over, when it's really not. But as the years go by, and Fontaine is nowhere to be seen, he settles down, instead devoting his time to his children.

He watches as they grow up. All of them. Masha, Leta, Sally, Adelaide, and Emma all graduate from school, get jobs, have families, leave him behind. But even then, when the house is empty and no longer do the sounds of playing children and laughter echo through its halls, does Jack feel truly at peace.

He worries. About his daughters, about Tenenbaum's growing age, about himself. There is so much to worry about, it seems, and he worries about all of it.

His body is old. He, however, is not.

At 24, a man would just be starting his life. He would have a good job, a beautiful young wife, and perhaps a child on the way. He would not be growing old and feeble, as Jack was. He would not be awaiting the day he would go to sleep, never to wake up again. Jack is not quite that old yet, but he knows his time is coming. He will not be here to watch his grandchildren grow up. And what will happen to the girls if he leaves? He knows they will be alright, but he still worries-and with all of that worrying, who has time for peace?


Ten years later, and his daughters have all but forgotten about their origins. They no longer have nightmares about scary monsters under the sea, or dreams of "Mr,. Bubbles" and "angels." They no longer remember their gruesome task of gathering liquid madness, or their hidey-holes, or their Big Daddies. They remember nothing, and Jack knows that it is better that way.

He has not forgotten, though.

He remembers Rapture. He remembers Fontaine. He remembers the Splicers, the Big Daddies, Andrew Ryan, everything. He knows it all. Sometimes, he even has nightmares, like in the old days. Back when he had first come back to the surface with the ex-Little Sisters. He would have them almost every night, and when he woke up screaming, it seemed that peace would never come. But thirty years have passed since then, and now Jack is old and tired, just as he knew he would one day be. His affairs are in order. His girls will get everything they need once he is gone.

Tenenbaum is already gone; she passed away a long time ago. Jack wonders, when he is gone, if he will see her again, wherever he is going. He has no idea what Heaven is like or if he even believes in it. He thinks maybe it's a city in the sky or something. He chuckles, thinking of this.

How ridiculous, he thinks to himself.

Then he remembers that he was created in an underwater city where people (if they can even be called that) run around beating each other to death and have superpowers, and he realizes that maybe a city in the clouds isn't as impossible as it sounds.

"Sir, you have visitors."

Jack is pulled from his reverie by a young nurse who is looking down at him expectantly. He nods silently, smiling.

A few moments later, in come the girls. Masha, Leta, Sally, Adelaide, and Emma stand before him, all grown up as he knew they would one day be. In this moment, he feels his heart swell; with pride, with love, with affection. Because of him, because of what he's done, these children were able to live lives of their own, away from the oppression of Rapture, away from the hell that they'd once known. They were able to grow up, have children of their own, because of him.

And now? Now, they stand here, in this hospital, ready to comfort their savior, their father, in his last moments.

Emma is the first to move, stepping forward and taking Jack's old, wrinkled hand. She turns it over, revealing the faded tattoos on his wrists. She sighs, melancholy, and smiles sadly, holding one of his fingers in her slender, feminine hands.

Adelaide moves next, taking a tissue and dabbing at her eyes in an attempt to stop the flow of tears threatening to spill over and ruin her makeup. She, too, moves to stand beside the bed, taking a moment to hesitate before putting her hand on Jack's. She had always hated death, and now she was going to experience it a second time; first, with Tenenbaum, who had been like a mother to all of them; and now, with Jack, their father. She looks resigned, and Jack wishes there was something he could do about it.

Sally is the next to come to him, a look of quiet contemplation on her otherwise pale face. She lays her fingers on Jack's hand, stroking the skin there softly in an attempt to comfort him. Jack smiles, appreciating the gesture.

Leta comes after Sally, rushing to his side. She had always been the impatient child, and even now, when she is grown, that has not changed one bit. She takes two fingers in her own, giving them a gentle squeeze. Jack tries to squeeze back, but he's too weak. She notices the attempt anyway, and the corners of her mouth turn up in the barest hint of a smile.

Masha is the last of them, and the most emotional. The tears in her eyes are evident as she takes her place at his side. She lays her fingers over his, trying desperately to hold back the flow of tears. She fails anyways, and Jack turns to look at her. He smiles, and she looks like she wants to cry harder at that, but doesn't, for his sake.

At that moment, with his daughters by his side, holding onto him, he takes his last breath, and he finally, finally, feels at peace.