The Lost Love Above | Elizabeth x (m) Reader!

Improper Fink.

One might think that after hours of constant fighting without rest would be taxing on the human body. Throughout most of my time in Columbia, I've only had the pleasure of talking to only one of the locals. The rest I've had to shoot at, kill in order to survive, or distract so my boss could do everything listed above.

Was it taxing? Taxing would be the year's most tremendous understatement. I've been grazed, kicked, and even knocked out a few times before, but I've escaped death so many times now I've made a clowder of cats hiss. It wasn't until recently I was finally struck by a bullet. Even that, however, wasn't enough to keep me from completing this retire-worthy case on hold.

Now, here I was...stowed away inside of an elevator after blasting my way through an entire lobby in search of a Gunsmith known as "Chen Lin," someone who is supposed to be our ticket back to our airship so we can finally get the hell out of Columbia.

Of course, this is easier said than done. This lobby wasn't your run-of-the-mill entrance. First of all, it led to Finkton Proper, which on its own had secrets, but this had guards and a rotation of law enforcement– here, we hid secrets that involved our trio. Though this didn't directly apply to Booker or me, it tied Elizabeth's already confusing background into something much more elaborate—Slate, Booker's ex-brother-in-arms, used to work at this station. Before stepping foot in the elevator, Elizabeth opened it up without either of us noticing.

  "Guys," she breathed. "It's Slate's locker. He must've worked here."

Booker and I looked over, both covered in sweat and remnants of our last engagement, which involved a George Washington with a Gatling gun and several more of Comstock's goons.

  "Wha...? I... This is my mother's diary. Why would Slate have it?" She opened the diary and feathered through the pages before stopping somewhere in the middle. "My husband claims the child was created from whole cloth by divine will. I am a believer, but I am not a fool. His bastard...shall not be raised under this roof."

I wiggled my toes uncomfortably in my shoes as I watched her as her expression folded into one emotion that I wasn't familiar with. Panic? Worry? Anger? I swallowed. "Maybe not add anymore on your plate for now? We're almost out here, Elizabeth."

She narrowed her gaze at me and then frowned when she returned her glance at the diary. "My mother... SHE had me locked in that tower."

I took a shaky breath. "Elizabeth–"

  "I just want to get out of this city. PLEASE."

Booker didn't say anything, and neither did I. He took the Voxophone in the locker and listened to it in a different room, telling us he'd be back later. Then, I was left with Elizabeth. I wasn't bad with words, but what do you say to someone who just found out they were an unwanted child and was practically abused because of it?

  "Sorry," I stammer. "About...you know? Your shitty parents."

Oh, great. I nailed it.

  "Me, too."

The elevator dings just as Booker arrives. I regard him before speaking. "Anything useful?"

He approaches me and grabs my shoulder with one hand. "Not in front of the girl. We'll discuss more later."

  "Right," I say, trying to ignore Elizbeth as she steps inside. We follow her and stack inside like sardines in a tin...

I jump at the sudden voice of a man coming over the speaker in front of us. "Greetings! My name is Jeremiah Fink, and I want to share with you my personal creed. What is the most admirable creature on God's green earth?"