Alone

By Commentaholic

A/N: I know I'm diverting from my usual Oblivion writing, but fear not, this is only a oneshot. I'll return to the adventures of our favorite green-eyed Dunmer soon.

I was playing Bioshock 2 the other day, and was cleaving my way through Pauper's Drop. I had just acquired the code from the diner to get into the pawn shop (or some building). As I turned away from the code, hastily written in blood by a dying man, I saw a rather depressing sight outside the diner. The inspiration to write a one-shot for it struck me today during school. I hope you feel something for this lonely soul like I did.

The floor trembled in a regular rhythm as heavy boots trudged forward along the garbage-filled streets of the hellhole known as Pauper's Drop.

The metal titan stopped and turned toward an ornately carved bronze vent.

Clang!

A gloved fist came down upon the engraved metal plate beneath the shadow-filled vent's circular hole, the sound of the blow resounding through the silent streets of Pauper's Drop.

The suited giant lowered his arm to his side and stood in silence, rivet gun held in his firm grip at his side.

Yellow light shone dimly from the portholes of the Big Daddy's helmet as he peered into the duct's dark depths. Light reflected off of scattered patches of bare metal, revealing an empty shaft that trailed off into darkness as it turned a corner, leaving his line of sight.

Clang!

The fist came down upon the bronze plate again, breaking the silence once more. The gauntlet's force left an indentation in the burnished alloy.

Figures darted among the shadows, but the Big Daddy ignored them, instead focusing his attention to the vent once more.

Voices spoke in hushed whispers, and eyes gleamed unnaturally out of the darkness towards the titanic figure.

One of the figured made to charge forward, but was restrained by a deformed hand on its shoulder.

"No, it's not worth it. There's no little sister," a voice said.

"There will be, soon, though!" the Splicer retorted, shaking off the hand.

"Then be patient," the first voice said.

Clang!

Another strike upon the vent, another reverberating echo of metal upon metal.

The Splicers looked at each other. Rarely did it take this long for a Little Sister to appear.

"What now?" the eager Splicer asked, fidgeting as impatience ate at his resolve.

"Even without a Sister, he's still got more than enough Adam than we'll ever need. On three, we'll jump him," the other said. "One…..Two….ergghh," he gave out a strangled cry. The eager one looked sideways towards the other Splicer.

A massive glove was squeezing his friend's throat, a strange triangle etched into the back of the gauntlet. The imperiled Splicer's eyes bugged out from his head as his hands scrabbled to free his throat from the vice-like grip. The glove squeezed tighter, and the Splicer thrashed once, and then went limp. The remaining splicer was frozen in terror as an oblong porthole flashed to life in the darkness in front of him. It glowed red and slowly advanced on the paralyzed scavenger.

"Get him, Daddy!" a Little Sister said from her position on the mammoth figure's shoulder. She giggled in her distorted voice as the menacing red light came closer.

The last thing the former citizen of Rapture heard was the roar of a spinning drill.

Subject Delta threw the mangled remains of what had once been a Splicer off the end of his drill. The bloody mess hit the wall of the Fishbowl Diner, and then splattered to the ground. The Little Sister giggled again and said, "Nobody hurts MY Daddy."

Delta looked over at the Big Daddy standing in the pool of light in front of the vent. It looked into the vent once more, and then hung its head in sorrow when it saw nothing inside. It turned to continue its trudge through the vacant streets.

Delta could sympathize with his fellow Big Daddy. Although it was a "Rosie" and he was an Alpha Series, that didn't make the Rosie desire the presence of a Little Sister any less. Back when they were together, he would have given anything for Eleanor.

The Little Sister on his shoulder yawned in boredom. Delta had a sudden thought. He reached up behind him and gently lifted the Little Sister from his shoulder.

Delta set her down in front of him and gave her a little nudge in the direction of the forlorn Rosie that was trundling off in the opposite direction. She gave him a confused look, and he nodded his head. She timidly walked towards the Rosie until she came up behind it. The Little Sister tapped the hulking form of the Rosie on the back of its leg. It turned around, looking around for where the touch came from. Then it looked down.

Once it saw the Little Sister, its helmet portholes went from a sickly yellow to a bright, glowing green. It picked her up and set her on its shoulder. The Rosie trundled off again, this time its back was straight and its steps were joyful.

The Little Sister looked back at Delta and gave a small wave of farewell.

"Goodbye, Daddy." she whispered.

A/N: It's all true. Well, except for giving up the Little Sister. At the time, I saw the Big Daddy standing at the vent, pounding away. At first, I thought it was a threat as it walked down the street. What gave me pause was when it struck the vent, and no reply came. He sagged in disappointment. I was currently holding the last Little Sister in the section, and when no Little Sister came out to him, I felt terrible. :P

I exited the diner and found some splicers heading in his direction. I zapped one and beat the first one down, then drill-dashed the next. So yes, the combat was different, but the idea's the same.

For this story, I felt so bad for him that I simply had to give him a happy ending.