Chapter Text
The gentle sound of Sam’s record player moved through the room, upbeat music accompanied by the warm crackling sound of food cooking on the stove.
“Raindrops keep fallin’ hmm hmmhmm…” Sam sung along softly to the tune.
A squeal of Lou's laughter rang out, echoing through the space like little bells as she ran towards Sam with her wooden toy car, hitting him on the leg.
“Hey. Not bad, little porter. Not bad at all.” Sam said, reaching down to hoist Lou aloft in front of him. He stopped for a moment, smiling, just to look at her, then moved her forward and kissed her little head.
“Okay Lou, time for some nom noms.” He carried her over to the table and placed her in her highchair. He sat and began to spoon feed her, smiling fondly when she spilled it everywhere, head nodding with sleepiness mid spoonful.
“Come on, open up.” Lou swiped messily at the food on her face before eating off the spoon. “There you go.”
After dinnertime was done, and Lou was practically asleep sitting up in her highchair, Sam lifted her up, wiped off her face, and gently placed her down in her little otter-themed cot.
Suddenly, the perimeter alarm started to blare. Sam jolted, shushing Lou and checking the security feed. A figure, dark and dressed in black, was just outside the entrance of his shelter. Heart pounding, Sam rushed to the kitchen, grabbing at knives and putting each one back when he couldn't find what he wanted. He had almost settled on a large carving knife when he thought of the drawer. Sam crossed the kitchen, unlatched the child lock, and pulled it open to reveal a gun.
He spun the cylinder once, considering it, but thought better of it when he saw Lou peering anxiously over the edge of her cot. He didn't need death this close to his home. Sam settled on a frying pan, rotated it in his hand, and stalked towards the main entrance, waiting around a corner at the base of the stairs.
The intruder’s footsteps slowly descended, and Sam waited in silence for them to get closer. When he could no longer bear the anticipation, Sam jumped out, wielding the frying pan like a weapon.
“Who's there!?”
The figure placed down something they were carrying and reached up to remove a motorcycle helmet. Their face was still obscured by the darkness as they moved forward slowly down each step.
“Who are you?!” Sam readjusted his grip on the frying pan.
The figure finally stepped into the light, a mask made of two autonomous blue hands slowly removing itself from her face.
“Fragile?”
Fragile smiled and nodded her head teasingly towards the frying pan in Sam's raised hand. “Were you cooking?”
Sam dropped his arm quickly, a slight flush coming to his face with embarrassment.
“What are you doing here?” he asked her, subconsciously holding the frying pan out of view.
Fragile smiled again and raised one of the blue autonomous hands, the fingers curling into a single finger over her lips.
“I've been looking for you.”
They entered the room and Sam put down the frying pan on the bench before he moved to pick Lou up, holding her against his chest. She reached over his shoulder and wiggled her chubby fingers towards Fragile, who'd extended her hand and was wiggling a finger at Lou.
“Wow. Lou's growing up fast.” Lou giggled at Fragile's words, holding onto her finger. “You two look good. Like a happy family.”
Fragile pulled something from the case she'd brought with her. “Here's a gift. The finest chiral-printed diapers.”
“Thank god.” Sam took them, pleased because he had almost run out, and would have had to go on a run if Fragile hadn't come along. “How'd you track us down?”
“Your neighbour got hooked up to the Chiral Network.” Fragile continued while Sam walked over to a table, placing down the packet he'd been given. “Service now extends to the whole region. I let myself in with this.”
Fragile thumbed at a bracelet on her wrist, the misanga she had matching with Sam.
“You can use Chiral printers now, too.”
The Chiral Network, connected this far already? Sam took a deep breath, quelling the pang of anxiety in his chest when he thought about how he was still considered wanted by Bridges. If they ever caught him, he'd go to jail for his actions, and they'd take Lou away from him. The second ever Bridge Baby to survive outside a pod, that was something they would likely kill to get their hands on. Bridges wouldn't care that he'd been the one to connect the UCA, they'd whisk her away to some god awful laboratory, never to be seen again.
“Guess it's time we thought about moving. Maybe further south.” Lou cooed at the sound of Sam's worried voice. “You know, I’m surprised you used the front door for once.”
Fragile's gaze dropped, her expression suddenly solemn. “My jumping days are behind me. Overdoing it left me with some kind of syndrome - they call it ‘Jumpshock’.”
Sam paused for a moment, not sure of what to say.
“Hm. You care for a drink?”
Fragile smiled. “Sure, why not?”
They talked for a while, drinks being shared and tales being told. Sam regaled Fragile with stories of Lou, occasionally standing up to show her the photos he’d put up on the wall, each one coming with a new humourous anecdote about Lou's cheeky hijinks.
Fragile told Sam about what she'd been up to, about the friends she'd made. She told him about how APAS 4000, the Automated Porter Assistant System, had taken control of handling deliveries and distribution across the UCA. Anywhere within coverage of the network no longer needed to rely on human porters anymore. She told him about how Fragile Express was now defunct, and she had started a new group - Drawbridge. A human-run porter business to handle work in regions outside the UCA.
Eventually, their voices became lowered as Lou fell asleep against the soft rise and fall of Sam's chest.
“Okay.” Fragile said, putting her hands on her knees. “Sorry to bring the subject to business, but I have a job for you. Take it, and that whole mess over how you left Bridges will be wiped from the record. You won't have to live in hiding anymore.”
“What about Lou?”
“That’s a little more complicated. We're talking about a Bridges asset. You'll have to work it out.” Fragile stood and cleared their empty beer cans from the table, placing them in a dedicated recycling basket on the floor near the end of the kitchen bench.
“Sam, you brought America together. Helped it be reborn as the UCA.”
One of Fragile's autonomous blue hands did a thumbs up motion, activating a glowing blue ring, and the room plunged into darkness. Colourful chiral holograms suddenly lit it back up again, displaying a large map of the UCA, spanning the kitchen table where Sam still sat. He held Lou on his lap, and she was awake again, playing with a stuffed-toy cryptobiote.
“But the Death Stranding is far from over. Humanity is still in danger, still on the brink of extinction - don't act like you don't see it. Now, my company, Drawbridge, prefers to use porters with DOOMS, who can sense BTs.”
“What, and you need me?”
“Sam, I'm asking you to go to Mexico. To extend the Chiral Network to the south, just like you did for the UCA.”
Sam stood with a sigh, Lou on one hip, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose with his free hand. “You… You're asking, or is this comin’ from the UCA?”
“Both. The UCA came to Drawbridge, and now I'm coming to you. So, what do you say?”
Lou dropped her soft toy and let out a little noise of discontent. Sam sighed quietly -more of a grumble, really- and removed his hand from his nose, looking back at Fragile. “Yeah, alright.”
“So you'll do it?” Fragile's voice raised with hope.
“Uh-huh.” Sam responded. “One question though, can I bring my kid?”
“It's dangerous out there, Sam. In areas not connected to the network, there's irregular weather events and bad timefall storms. Not to mention BTs and even bandits.” Fragile looked concerned.
“Hmm.” Sam looked down at Lou, bouncing her in the crook of his arm. “She’s a tough little one, I think she’ll manage.”
“Sam, are you sure? I could look after her while you go.”
“No way, she came with me all the way across the UCA.” He smiled at Lou’s sleepy face. “I want her with me this time, too.”
“...Alright, if you insist.” Fragile hesitated. “Anyways, you'd need to leave in about a week, so you have a little while to prepare.”
. . .
It was the night before Sam was scheduled to leave. The calm, restful silence of the shelter was unexpectedly disrupted by an alarm sounding loudly, and the power flickering out.
Multiple hostiles, armed. Lethal force recommended.
Sam sat bolt upright in his bed, bathed in the dim, pulsing red of the emergency lighting. A gurgle of dread bubbled up in his chest, and he checked the security feed. Several figures in red cloaks, armed with matching assault rifles, were closing in on his shelter. Tossing the sheet aside, Sam launched to his feet, racing to the other room to protect Lou. Fragile was sitting upright on the couch, eyes wide, alert and worried. Lou was crying.
Sam flew over to Lou’s cot, seizing her crying form and supporting her head against his chest. At a gesture from Sam, Fragile rushed to him and took Lou tightly in her arms.
“Go, hide in my room.” he ordered, snatching a set of keys off the bench. "Bolt the door behind you.”
Sam, while running to the base of the stairs, fumbled with the chain of keys, fingers shaking until he found the right one. He used it to unlock the weapons locker near the entrance, the mechanism opening with a satisfactory click.
He grabbed a handgun, hooking it to his belt while he waited for the weapon he truly wanted to lift on the cargo shelf out of the hold. Finally, out came the weapon Sam was looking for: a targeted multi-rocket launcher.
Sprinting three stairs at a time to the top of the entryway, he got there just in time for the door to slam open, exploding from the other side. Taking a step back, he twisted, barely avoiding contact with the flying shrapnel, and in the fraction of a second he had to react, Sam fired the weapon.
The sound was deafening in the enclosed space, the projectiles sending whoever had blown the door open flying backwards. Sam crouched, moving onward and stepping over the remains of what appeared to be some kind of mech. Another raised its rifle at him, but Sam fired before it could shoot.
Using the entrance of his shelter as a barricade to hide behind, Sam fired, his head popping out occasionally against the spray of bullets to see more shapes coming towards him in the dark. Jumping out from his cover and stalking forward, Sam pulled the trigger again and again, dispatching almost all of the intruders with his weapon. He twisted it, checking the magazine to find only one shot left.
One figure remained, different from the others. It swaggered toward him with a menacing confidence, one Sam subconsciously knew to be cautious of. The figure let out a laugh, one Sam could almost recognise, but couldn’t quite pinpoint. Sam raised the launcher, directed all the missiles to the single figure, and, just as he was about to pull the trigger, a gunshot echoed through the smoky air.
“Shit!” Sam’s aim jerked drastically to one side, and he couldn’t pull the trigger. He dropped the launcher and clutched at his left arm, a bullet had torn deeply through the flesh of his shoulder. Another shot was fired to his knee and Sam instantly fell into a kneel. Sam released his grip on his arm and scrambled to pull out his handgun.
The figure flashed, and suddenly reappeared only inches from Sam, the muzzle of the handgun being twisted from Sam's fingers and tossed several meters away. The attacker kicked the launcher aside before flashing again, and stood a few paces from Sam.
“Well now, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” The figure’s voice called out to him, walking closer with deliberate, slow steps, wielding a red 45mm handgun in one hand, aimed at Sam's head. “My, this is unfortunate. You made pretty light work of my ghost-mechs, huh?”
“Who are you?” Sam hissed through clenched teeth, holding bank groans of pain.
“Ah!” the figure made a hurt sound, holding his free hand against his heart in feigned pain and offense. “You don't recognize my voice, Bridges?”
“Higgs!” Sam shuddered with the realization of who it was. He could tell from the voice, although Higgs’ face was obscured by an opaque red mask that looked eerily like Amelie. “How the fuck are you still alive?”
“Oh, I have my ways.”
“What-” Sam took a deep breath.
The gunshot wounds are non-lethal. Focus, protect Lou and Fragile.
“What do you want?”
“Why, thank you kindly for askin’, Sam!” Higgs' tone was uncomfortably bright, unnatural for the situation. Higgs then lowered his voice, and the next sentence came out quiet, grim and menacing. “I just wanna get my hands on little Louise in there, is all.”
“Stay away from her!” Sam tried to pull himself to his feet, despite his leg injury.
Higgs tilted his head, smiling at Sam's struggle, then shot Sam in his other kneecap like it was nothing. Sam dropped like a stone, crying out in pain but still bloodily crawling towards his handgun.
“Now Sammy, why d’ya gotta keep makin’ me hurt you, huh? You seriously think I like doin’ this?” Higgs walked slowly along beside Sam's crawling form, and placed his boot on top of Sam’s outstretched hand before he could reach the handgun. Sam groaned in pain at the crushing weight on his bones, his breath hitching loudly when the pressure caused them to crack. Higgs chuckled, raising his hands in a mock defeat. “Okay, you got me, maybe I do.”
“What do you -rnnghh- want with Lou?” Sam grunted between panting, pained breaths.
“That ain't none of your business now, is it? I’m just here for my own… personal reasons. Hell, maybe I might just put some more bullets in you for the fun of it. ‘Course, there’s no point in tryin’ to kill you, when you won’t. stay. dead!” Higgs’ mask somehow changed its expression into a smile. “But there are... plenty of other ways to entertain myself.”
“Whatever you do to me- If you hurt her- I'll do ten times worse to you! When I -fuck- fucking catch you, Higgs-” Higgs cut him off, the mask changing into a concerned, almost sad expression.
“Maybe I… can’t kill you, you won’t die, but you can lose. There's no point in fightin’ it Sam. I like winning, and I'm real good at gettin’ what I want.” The mask changed into that sick smirk once again. “Now, I'll just pop on in there and take Lou, and then I'll be on my merry way.”
“Don't you fucking touch her!”
“See, from your tone I’d be worried, but from up here, it don't look like you can do shit to stop me.” Higgs twisted his boot on Sam’s fingers, and several more cracking sounds caused Sam to scream.
“Stop this, Higgs. It’s not too late to -ngh- pull out from this.”
“Oh Sam, sweetheart, you think I’m that stupi-” Higgs suddenly slammed forward with an enormous bang. Sam looked up to see Fragile wielding his discarded grenade launcher.
“Sam! Are you okay?” Fragile practically flew to his side.
“Where’s Lou?!” Sam grunted as Fragile helped him pull himself into a seated position.
“She’s safe inside, in your room on the bed. I checked the security feed, saw you needed help. The cameras showed that one there was the only intruder left.” She pointed at Higgs’ body, trails of smoke rising from where he lay.
Higgs began to groan weakly.
Fragile leaned forward and rolled him over. His Amelie-mask had fallen off, and his face was adorned in white makeup, golden chiral tears pouring down his cheeks.
“Looks like I-I’ve gotten mys-elf in a bit of a…” He paused to wheeze. “Pred-dicament now, don’t it?” His voice was glitching and static, cutting off his words like a warped recording.
“Well s-shit.”