Jack never planned on returning. There was nothing left for him there,
and he had five little girls to take care of — as much as he loved them,
he’d be the first to admit going from zero to a hundred in a blink of an
eye was enough to make one’s head spin. He’d never taken care of
children before this, doesn’t know how to be a good father, but that
doesn’t mean he isn’t trying. Christ, is he trying.
To say Rapture was the last place he ever expected to be isn’t an
exaggeration, but Tenenbaum contacted him with the only news that
would ever make him even consider returning: Fontaine was back.
Not dead. Still there.
Jack didn’t win after all.
If it wasn’t for Brigid, if she hadn’t been there, he never would have
gone. He would have rather risked the potential threat years in the
the future left his little girls alone, simple as that. He saved them not
only by removing the slug from them but also taking them out of Rap-
ture and giving them a life. A family.
And now he had to leave that family to go kill the son of a bitch who
destroyed his life. Again.
Maybe it was his fault for not checking, for trusting that a few stabs
of a needle would do the trick when not even bullets could kill him eas-
ily the first time Jack tried. Maybe it was his fault for believing, even a
tiny bit, that the Little Sisters who saved him weren’t quite human. May-
be it’s his fault he has to leave his family once more to deal with the
threat of Fontaine. Maybe it was their destiny: Jack finds a family to
love and who will love him, and Fontaine rips him away from that,
shatters his illusion of happiness.
Maybe he just doesn’t deserve happiness, deserve a family.
These were the thoughts that circled around and around as Jack
approached Rapture, in a submarine this time. Going through the front
door seemed risky, especially when, chances were, he wouldn’t exact-
ly get a warm welcome from “Atlas” this time.
But in the year he’d been gone, things have changed. Things have got-
ten deadly — as much was evident when, the second he entered Rap-
ture, he had to dive for the nearest gun. It was evident these splicers
were slower, though, weaker, and far, far more crazed. ADAM starved,
it would seem. No wonder, since chances were Fontaine was stealing
it all now that he was no longer playing from behind shadows.
Well, so much for coming in quietly. Killing the splicers must have made
one hell of a b a n g.
And when they were dead, Jack paused because not only did they have
no clue where Fontaine was, they also knew that, if he really was alive
and running Rapture like Brigid told him, Fontaine would find him, not the
other way around.
He better make it quick because really, Jack didn’t have all the time in the
world.
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