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

My Love, So long pt.2

We fought our way through the interior of the flagship. It had everything we'd come to face, only more intensely. Comstock had his men on the defense, and if it weren't for Booker, I'm not sure how far Elizabeth and I would have made it.

Aside from those already on board when we arrived, there were also soldiers returning to the ship to flank us as we engaged those already present. Of course, Comstock also confronted us, but not as his soldiers did. He got on the speakers and calmly spoke, which irritated me. He must've felt untouchable because he never sounded like the Grim Reaper was rapidly approaching his doorstep.

  "I may be the one who strikes you down, DeWitt," he said once. "But you've always had a knack for self-destruction. Who's to say you won't beat me to the punch?"

Booker never said anything, but there were enough pressing matters on our hands to distract ourselves from yelling at a PA system we had never seen.

  "You've come to wipe your slate clean, False Shepard," Comstock told Booker. "But time will walk backwards before you find redemption. Some sins can't be forgiven."

We saw Vox warships on approach when we closed in on the Prophet's cabin. There were already a handful of them getting ready to board by the time I got the door open to Comstock's quarters. On the other end, however, was something I hadn't been expecting. A golden statue of Elizabeth's tower was on the other end, hollowed out to make room for pipes and a glowing section of bulbs and coils. On the statue's chest was another hollowed-out space. A tiny figurine of Elizabeth was adorned just like how we first met her.

Elizabeth walked towards the statue and studied it for a few sections. A plague on front read "SIPHON MACHINE." 1. Specimen Containment. 2. Siphon.

   "I saw this there. I could hear you singing from above... and the machine came to life in response," Booker read somewhere.

I screw my eyes up to examine the room. It looked more like a Museum exhibit than a regular room, even by the standards of Comstock. I thought this was strange.

  "And then in my mother's grave, there was a smaller one... They were draining me...maybe that's why I can't..." Elizabeth trailed off.

  "Can't what?" I asked her.

  "When I was little, I used to be able not just to open tears, but to I could create new ones... to anywhere I wanted to go. But in the tower..."

I was about to say something else when Comstock came through the speakers again. "Yes, I'll be right with you."

There was silence, and we all regarded each other. It was time to go forward.

Behind the statue was a door. Thick, heavy, metal– like every other door we've seen on the airship. But it carried much more weight to it in the sense of emotion and progress. On the other end, there was going to be Comstock. Even though he wasn't the goal of our quest, he was always there, playing a factor that grew to the point of being impossible to ignore.

My hands were shaking. I anticipated revenge and almost got to the door before the others. Booker grabbed me and pushed me backward. "Stand back. I'm ending this."

  "Booker, No." Elizabeth got between him and the door this time. "This is between me and him."

I realized then, even bathed in my emotions of hatred, that this involved Elizabeth much more than Booker and me combined. I heard my lips click apart as they opened to speak a useless protest that had no voice or reason. I knew when to be silent, and this was one of those times. I exhaled. "We're right behind you then, Elizabeth."

  "You're walking into a trap!" Booker said with his voice raised.

  "I need to do this," she said on her own.