week 7 and on

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"I can't believe Rhys is so creepy" and other stories

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weeks 1 - 6

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"here's all the gay stuff that happened before rhys got stabby"

week 7 - the night jason skywalker became a jedi

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[ This evening was definitely not the shitshow that Jack was expecting. He had absolutely left his room only for the hope of hunting down what was left of Rhys. No one here knew the extent of how deeply it ran, but Jack's paranoia was a powerful force. That thing getting away alive had been eating at him to the point that every time he heard so much as an unexpected shift, his eyes would dart to the vent in his room with that same wild mania that had led to that thing revealing itself in he first place.

He climbs up the ladder with some effort, as he has been this entire goddamn week, but it's more difficult because of what's in his hand. His mask is half-melted, covered in gore and acid, but he refuses to leave it be. He'll dispose of it on his own later, but for now, he felt some sort of irrational fear at leaving it. Once he's in his room, he stands, breathing out a loud exhale of effort. Here, alone, he feels more at ease, and there's no posturing needed. He doesn't carry himself with the same, rigid confidence, but the fact that he's tired and wounded shows much more in how he carries himself. His shoulders slump, and his head bows slightly to look at what's left of the mask in his hand.

It was always a symbol, and he knows that. It was all branding, because he knew the face of Hyperion couldn't be a man with the symbol of a Vault burned into his face. There were too many questions that would arise, practically speaking, but much, much more than that, he couldn't let anyone see anything that resembled weakness even in passing. It was what he had started thinking as things had gotten more dire on Elpis, he remembers. You can't let anyone see you so much as bleed, because it reminds them that you're no different. No more important.

But that-- That wasn't true. It couldn't be true, because Jack was going to be the hero that saved the goddamn universe. So he takes a mask to hide the fact that he's ultimately nothing more than a mortal man. The uncanny nature of the mask only helped with that. That was always the plan, and he had thought ever piece of that through from the mismatched tone of the skin to the name he took. It was absolutely Handsome Jack, as if he's daring someone to question that claim.

Yet now, he looks down to his own face, and he sees not the symbol of the Vault, but a target. When he had first seen it, it made him sick, because oh, there's no missing the implication here. He knows that Rhys and Liz weren't the only ones. He is so goddamn glad that Rhys managed to fuck things up so spectacularly that his betrayal would end up a mask of its own, that's for sure. As soon as Hancock was revealed to have been poisoned, he fucking knew Elizabeth was one of them. And if not for Rhys... He wouldn't have been able to go after her. Rhys himself just ended up being a happy accident, but even so. He understands this target, because it's his fault that two of those things are dead. His heart pounds in his ears the longer he looks at the mask, but— ]

Hahahahaha—!!

[ Jack tosses the mask at the wall hard enough for it to make a noise that's nothing short of disgusting. His expression breaks into a wild grin, but this one is unhinged in a way that's far closer to when he killed Rhys. He's feeling cornered. He's feeling desperate. He's afraid. ]

I— Haha-- I am Handsome goddamned JACK, and if-- if you think that this, this is going to, what, scare me? Ohhhh... Oh, you, all of you, you have another fucking thing coming!

[ He's truly not talking to anyone but himself here, but he runs his hand through his hair as he paces, trying to work out that manic energy, since there's truly nowhere for him to put it. Jack just keeps laughing hysterically, as if this were the funniest thing that could have ever happened to him, but it's harsh and strained. ]

Everyone here-- Ha, I could just, fr, friggin' kill them all, then-- [ He's interrupted by laughter again as his eyes fall on the mask, but this time, seeing it seems to calm him down, paradoxically enough. His expression is still nothing short of being so dangerous that it's truly a good thing that no one is here, but that impossibly wide grin still grows. ]

No. No, they can come and get me. If I die, then-- Man, then everyone is friggin' screwed anyways. They have no idea that I'm... [ That certainly sounds ominous, but as Jack trails off, another thought seems to occur to him. He feels the dry blood on his skin all of the sudden, since he looks at his hand as if he's seeing that blood there for the first time, and he laughs again, though it's not quite so wild.

Whatever he was thinking, it apparently remains in his head. Jack heads towards the bathroom, since the blood, it kind of bothers him.

Might as well wash it off, he figures. ]

week 7 - sunday night

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[ Another week, another murder, but this time, he didn't give a damn in the slightest. Truth be told, it was a little hard for him to do so after this past week especially. Sleeping during the trial, while disrespectful on the surface, was actually the most peaceful sleep he'd had in several days. It's ironic, and he realizes it, but now the place he feels most secure is in a room full of people. He couldn't trust any of them, but he could trust that they wouldn't murder him in a room full of people. None of them had the balls to do it.

But, hey. It worked for him. Well-rested for once, he can take up a task he's been wanting to get to. It's the sort of detail-oriented work that he hadn't quite felt up to the task of taking, but now, it's something he's actually willing to stay up all night working on.

A silver arm has been laying on the desk since he had returned from the med-bay, and since the robotics lab had opened, he had plifered a few tools for his own use. It's nothing extravagant, and certainly nothing you could kill with (unless you were creative, which, granted, he is), but an assortment of small screwdrivers, cables, and pliers will get the job done, he figures. Jack pours himself a glass of booze for the work, the same one that he had shared with Rhys, and he settles at his desk with a tired groan of effort. The problem was, this was going to be an absolute bitch one-handed.

He puts on his glasses, another surprisingly private sign of weakness that Jack only reveals when he's alone, and then sets his work music to start (Taylor Swift and related artists, of course), and he gets to work in earnest. First it's a matter of exposing the internal components of the arm, but that's easier said than done. He uses his tools as best he can, but it's not something that comes easily to him. There's a fair amount of cursing, but nothing actually longer than a murmured out phrase for quite a while. Though eventually, as he starts to pry open that arm, he does end up laughing and sort of idly talks to himself. ]

For fuck's-- Finally. Goddamn, this arm was sure built better than your first one, kiddo. Spent the big money for the upgrade, huh?

[ He shifts, pushing his glasses up on the bridge of his nose as he leans closer to inspect the wiring. He's poking through it, clearly looking for something, but he keeps talking. ]

...Probably should have guessed it sooner. 'Course that was a lie. But noooooo, Jack, you just have to give the kid a chance, because, hey, like what you did with the hair. Or something. Pffft. So friggin' stupid. Always trusting people I know I goddamn shouldn't...

[ He trails off in concentration, but pulls a bit of wire away from the rest as he follows it up the arm. He has to pause a few times to remove more metal with care, but eventually, he makes it up to what he's looking for: the arm's hard-drive. ]

There we go.

[ He unplugs the cable, then carefully removes it, only to start digging through the cables he's brought with him. None of them are going to fit the hard-drive as is, but it doesn't particularly matter for Jack. He didn't expect it to. He inspects the connection, then leans back as he starts taking the cables and stripping them, making a very crude, haphzard one that will on his own. After all, despite all of his natural talent as a leader, he had started out much more humble than that. This was the kind of stuff he used to do as a kid for fun. Jack works on it for a while, but eventually, he exhales a sigh as he still seems to be mulling over something. ]

...Don't get it, though. It doesn't make any goddamn sense, since if he wanted to screw me over, he had-- I dunno. Six weeks, there was definitely six weeks to do that. I mean, hell, he could've killed me. Had plenty of chances, since I didn't think he'd screw me. So, why pretend-- Ahhhh.

[ He cuts off with a frustrated noise, but it doesn't take him much longer to finish his hack job of cabling. After that, it's easy enough to connect the hard-drive to his data pad, after which, he won't say much more. He'll have to concentrate to see just what he can recover here. ]

a death in four parts, part one of four.

[jackhole]

[ rhys hates being dead. when he woke up, he found himself lying there on the ground for an exceptionally long time, parsing through his feelings and what -- what even just happened. it's all such a blur and for a long, long time he just sat there and tried to remember what was real.

he remembers being shot, remembers the look on jack's face -- the sting of betrayal lingering behind his eyes as he lifted the gun and before anyone could even stop him, there was a bullet in rhys' skull. rhys thought that was in, genuinely couldn't imagine anything beyond that but as the pygmalion has proved time and time again, there was always more.

he remembers his body hurting, the throbbing of the metal in his brain pulsating with each passing moment. he remembers the shifting, cracking, breaking down of his bones as his body transformed into this -- this monster. he remembers the complete abject horror he felt when he realized he had become the same thing that elizabeth was, the same thing that threw his body like a rag doll and woke him up enough to be there when jack shot him. he remembers staring right at jack and as the monster talked, his conscious screaming wait no, not jack! before a claw came down and he -- it -- they escaped into the vents together.

he thinks he blacked out after that.

it was a strange, humming kind of conscious. he wasn't there, not really, because he was -- he was dead. sometimes though, the body would shift and the wires in his brain would connect just enough so he could realize what was going on. he remembers being curled in a corner of the vents and the creature lifting a clawed hand to his own eyeball, so angry at these handicaps it had to deal with. remembers the excruciating, brutal pain as it clawed out the organ and tossed it to the side, a mess of wires and blood.

that's better, it thought. help, he thought.

it was the pain that did the trick, actually. enough sensation running through his shambling corpse that the leftover dregs of his mind were able to pick up on it, to remember it. the monster was constantly in pain as the days went by, the bullet still buried deep in his skull and it considered -- if for just a moment -- trying to take it out. another handicap that just had to go. of course, the monster still had things to accomplish, had made promises it knew it had to keep, so it wouldn't risk damaging this shell more than it had to. the eye, the arm, they were dragging it down and making its mobility suffer, they had to go.

rhys wished it was over, silently begged for death at his increasing inability to tell himself apart from this thing as the days went by. it was shifting too fast from him to it and back to him again without him being able to do... anything. the creature was usually able to keep its host at bay, rewrite what it wanted to make sure they were completely unaware but -- the two of them were beyond that point, curling together in this symbiotic death as the thing dragged rhys and his corpse along with it for his last final days.

of course, the creature was growing impatient. it needed to kill, needed to take something of theirs for its promise. it needed to make up for the failings of his host and for the loss of his partner because this is what it owed. it needed to do this or there would be a punishment far, far worse than anything alice could do.

so, it tried to take care of its mortal body. the bleeding was getting excessive, the eye crusting over in ways that were even starting to hurt it. its thoughts were breaking down into something incoherent, more instinct than the practicality it usually knew. it couldn't let this get out of hand before --

harold arrived and it knew what it must do.

later, rhys found himself injured far, far worse than he ever thought he'd be. there was a panic to its movements but also a resigned feeling from the both of them -- this was the end. he (no, it. it.) had made good on its (his) promises, knew that it'd done enough to be allowed to die with mercy because truly, this was the more merciful option for it. maybe not for rhys though. rhys' terror thrummed white hot inside of this thing, wondering if maybe he... deserved this? maybe now, that he knew what he was, maybe it was all inevitable.

maybe jack was right.

with fiona's bullet nestled right next to jack's like a well deserved goodnight kiss, rhys was finally able to let go. at this point, rhys wasn't sure if this was mercy or revenge. at this point, rhys wasn't sure if he deserved worse. this was really way too simple, wasn't it? he... he hurt so many people, he let so many things pass him by, he was a monster and nothing could really make up for that fact. the only thing the pygmalion did was finally make it a brutal, physical thing for him to deal with but rhys knew, he's been a monster since the day he sent helios crashing to the ground.

nothing on the pygmalion would change that. ]

a death in four parts, part two of four.

[jackhole]

[ when he's finally able to pull it together, to gain a better coherency than he's had since... truthfully, the night that green haired brat lost his shit and he stood next to jack, grinning about it, he drags a hand over his face and assesses his new problem: death. rhys' views on an afterlife or penance or anything like that -- they were complicated and always in flux. on one hand, he wanted to believe there was something good after this, that he'd find peace at one point or another, that maybe all the bad things happening in the universe were a hand of fate instead of just a chaotic suffering. on the other, rhys knew that that was a fairly impossible dream and if it were true -- he'd already done too much to deserve anything good when he got there.

so, as he wakes and feels a cool breeze on his face, he doesn't think this is actually the end. it can't be since this is just... too simple, there was still so much going on that this had to be a kind of purgatory, right? if this was truly the end, why didn't he see anyone he knew? why didn't he see, hell, vasquez, towering large and smiling big down at him? it would be an odd comfort, in a way -- like everything he knew back home was once again valid. his rules back in place, his security in knowing that hyperion was bad, jack was bad, and he was somewhere in the middle.

instead he catches glimpses of others from the pygmalion and nothing about it comforts him. it means his rules are still in disarray, it means that jack is still... he can't be sure. the confusing slosh of emotions of the last few days still spin around in his head to a point where he has to wonder, did jack know what was inside him? did jack know that he was this monster, with such bloodthirsty goals and hollow priorities? jack had always -- he'd always had some sort of goal, knew more than everyone else did, knew what had to be done. that's why rhys idolized him and tried in his way to emulate that. rhys remembers jack when he was alive, knew with such sureness that he was someone who could grab the universe by the throat and get it to spit out exactly what he wanted. if anything, the jack rhys had in his head was just a shadow of that man and while jack died alone, the vault hunters having taken his life in their own stake of revenge, it... never really quite diminished jack to rhys.

yes, jack was mortal and was stopped by a mere bullet but isn't that the best part? that someone so human could be so great at the same time, that he could stand out like he did in a universe full of other mere mortals. he was just one man who did as much as he possibly could and should be admired for that, should be respected for that! that is why rhys could never think of him anything less than a hero, even when told otherwise.

sometimes, after helios, he wondered if the real jack would have turned on him like the AI did. maybe it was the physical, mortal jack that was the hero and the AI that was corrupted? ... maybe it was just something as simple as a fault of programming.

maybe he could fix it.

so, that's why he kept the eye. that's why despite the bumpy start on the pygmalion and knowing what he did about jack, he... still kept to his side. it was to keep him happy, to keep him calm -- that's how he justified it to fiona, to himself even, but he knew the reasons underneath. he knew it was his selfish, greedy need to look into jack's eyes and see that trust again, that same brand of affection that rhys saw only in the digital, glitching neon blue. instead this time it was physical and heterochromic. that's why rhys said yes to everything jack wanted, from simple stuff to going to the gym to just... defending him in trials when jack was objectively wrong here.

there was something in rhys that yearned for jack. not in some sort of sick, crass way -- not some sort of crush or obsession (though obsession is the only word that could really come close) but in some sort of way that, for rhys, all roads lead to jack. he isn't even sure when it started, honestly. just knew that at one point his goals shifted from be "happy and rich and powerful" to "be like jack" and that was a whole different concept completely. he just wanted jack to approve of him, to keep him close and need him just as much as rhys felt like he needed jack. this almost physical need to consume jack and what he meant to rhys just so he knew he'd have jack close to him, forever. he knew -- he knew he couldn't explain that to anyone. not fiona, not vaughn, not even jack himself because no one got it. they all saw something else, saw it as a reflection of rhys or an approval for jack's atrocities. it wasn't, it never was, and it still isn't even after helios. jack did awful things, died for those awful things, came back and did even more awful things involving rhys and he...

... rhys can never finish that sentence. he's never sure how to put into actual words what makes jack so all-consuming for him. it's a feeling more than anything else, a curl of his fingers around an empty space in front of him, a dryness to his throat and a hollow feeling in his gut. that lack of stability or assurance is a constant nagging thing until jack is there, in front of him, physical and with his everpresent smile. rhys has memorized the way the corners of jack's eyes crinkle when he smiles at rhys, the awkward, shambling way jack lumps the two of them together sometimes, as if discomforted by the very idea yet can't help but admit to their bond. he's come to understand how jack works, what makes jack tick, what jack really felt at rhys' refusal at the end there. it was betrayal to jack, there's no question about it and rhys thought of that knowledge as a weapon to use against him here on the pygmalion. he thought he'd need that weapon. he thought he'd use that weapon. it would protect him against jack, if jack turned on him again? he couldn't die, he couldn't let jack hurt him again.

he regrets using it, should've damned elizabeth with the rest of them if only to -- to...

rhys sighs, there was no way he was going to let elizabeth suffer through jack once he realized what was happening. there's the question though, what was happening? he thought jack was... manipulating her, right? making her feel like she could be his daughter (a spike of white, hot jealousy rises up in rhys at that and he tries to ignore it because the explanation for it is not something he can deal with right now) but maybe he wasn't. maybe he was looking out for her too, with the creature inside of her just like it was in rhys. he wonders what happened to her. did jack put her down for the good of the ship like he did rhys? because... of course, that must have been why he killed rhys.

rhys betrayed him by keeping his daughter's death a secret. rhys betrayed him by keeping this monster inside of him. ]

a death in four parts, part three of four.

[jackhole]

[ elizabeth is alive and rhys isn't sure how to feel about that.

he found out where to watch what happens, feeling a voyeuristic sensation settle over him as he sat in the chair and began to go through the screens. it was... thursday, he realized, and the last thing he remembered was elizabeth's transformation on sunday night before the feeling of being shot by jack. bits and pieces crawl through his memories from when he turned into that monster but other than that, he isn't sure what to make of anything. he feels a startling numbness, the only thing holding back a tidal wave of even worse, more terrifying emotions as he observes everything with a blank, flat expression.

the camera switches to fiona first, wrapping her bleeding finger in the med bay. rhys sinks into his chair and feels his head drop, eyes moving to the ceiling because he just -- he said he would stay and he didn't. he shouldn't have stayed though, when he thinks about it. not with this nasty, rotten thing crawling inside of him -- it would have hurt her. he knows it, it would have mercilessly torn apart fiona with little regard for rhys' feelings and, and, and --

... and he wonders, if for a moment, she knew? she was so silent during the trial despite her assurance she would back him up against jack. he felt so alone, so right in his beliefs that he ignored the stress in her eyes and did little to stop himself from going head to head against jack. he thought it was so obvious -- jack was vile! terrible! jack deserved everything bad that happened to him! he ENSLAVED his DAUGHTER, of course he was the bad guy here.

yet everyone just thought rhys was hysterical, that he was yelling for his own sake and a nuisance at most. marinette egged him on, called him an idiot when she didn't even know. she had no idea what rhys dealt with when it came to jack, had no idea just how deep rhys' fear of the other man ran. he thinks of dorian who promised to talk to him, to hear him out later but -- but how. rhys knew jack wouldn't hesitate, it didn't matter what rhys said or did but if nothing changed right then, nothing would change at all.

so, maybe she knew. left him alone to deal with jack because she knew that he was a monster deep down all along. he finds himself curling into the chair, hands sliding through his hair as he brings his knees up to his chest and try to remember how to breathe. she must have known because otherwise, why would she be so quiet? why would she have abandoned him like this? fiona never -- fiona never abandoned him, until now. he feels a hollow sort of emptiness when he realizes why.

she knew he was a monster. jack knew he was a monster. he was alone from the start.

at least... at least jack didn't kill him immediately, though? that must have been what was happening. jack trying to keep rhys company, keep him from becoming worse than he was. that's why rhys felt so happy around him, that must be it. jack was fine with switching handcuff partners that week because... because he knew what rhys was. of course. he knew that minako couldn't handle rhys like he could and that has to be why. it has to be why because... what other reason could there be? that must've been why he punched him too, he had no idea what rhys was actually dreaming about -- must have thought it was the thing inside him coming to the surface and not one of rhys' own insecurities.

of course. it all makes so much sense now. jack was trying to save him.

when he pulls his hands out of his hair, there are tears on his face but he doesn't bother to stem them and instead switches views to someone else. just -- just, he had to get away from fiona. he hopes she burned his letter, hopes she can find happiness elsewhere. he doesn't deserve it, he doesn't deserve anyone at all. the camera settles on elizabeth after a moment and she's in the holding cells, asleep. he's shocked for a moment, really truly shocked because if she's alive... why wasn't he? what... what changed in that small gap of time that he's missing? maybe there was some sort of mistake, just a hiccup and at any moment he'll be returned to his body like nothing happened. or... or maybe -- maybe his monster was stronger? it dragged him along for so long, it kept him aware long past the point of body decay -- maybe... maybe they couldn't keep him alive? they must have tried, he thinks. why would they just let him die?

... oh god, what if he didn't deserve to be saved? jack must have had to make a choice, seeing how far gone rhys had become. rhys was truly becoming his monster at that point, right? he was the bad guy here, the one who had to be put down. that's why elizabeth still lives and he doesn't. jack saved all of them by killing him. that despair he felt at being alone, it makes sense now if he was this thing all along. jack knew and tried to spare them even more grief but his monster, oh it went out of control. maybe it's because he's -- well, he's not elizabeth. elizabeth was kind and good and did way fucking more for anyone than he ever did. maybe it's who you are that determines how... vile you become.

rhys has never been a good person and now, he's died for it.

he has to tell jack thank you. ]

a death in four parts, part four of four.

[jackhole]

[ the camera turns to jack and rhys sort of... gets lost in him? he idly thinks he should have a more extreme reaction to seeing jack here, alive and whole and without him but instead all he feels is a strange, calming sensation. it isn't the same pervasive loneliness he feels when he sees fiona, or the mix of betrayal and self-pity he sees when he sees elizabeth. it's a quiet, numbing calm because he gets it now.

jack killed him because he was a monster. jack is a hero. jack's always been a hero.

he sits in his chair with his arms wrapped loosely around his ankles, his cheek pressed against his knee as he watches jack on the screen. there's -- there's a trial happening and everyone is caught up once again in events. another death? some girl, rhys doesn't remember her name, doesn't bother to reach for it. instead he keeps his eyes on jack, jack who seems so peaceful in his sleep despite the hysteria. rhys could sympathize, he thinks. jack did just save the ship, kill (save) the two people who were destined to destroy everything from the inside out. trials could return to normal with nothing lurking underneath the skin of the innocent ones left until everyone can finally find their way around alice and...

maybe then they'll get to go home. he wonders if that's why he's stuck here, watching them. will he come back? will they let him come back? he's not sure if he deserves it anymore. after all, he did kill jack and helios seems so long ago now that... that rhys has to rethink it. maybe jack was trying to do the same thing there that he did here? save rhys? rhys was so blinded by his own ego that he couldn't understand his intentions, couldn't understand that jack was just trying to help. he was always just trying to help rhys, wasn't that what he said? they were a team and sometimes being part of a team means having to make the hard calls. hard calls like putting down your partner because he's gone too far.

rhys had gone so far that even fiona couldn't save him anymore. he really did deserve this, he thinks.

rhys watches as jack returns from the trial and settles in for the night. he doesn't feel much empathy for shelley, doesn't really remember why she bothered killing in the first place. she seemed so guilty, so sad over what she's done and rhys doesn't feel a thing -- just a tired sigh at the repetition. jack was so right, he thinks. he's really become what he feared -- cold and dead inside, unable to relate to those around him, unable to care for them. he was going down the wrong path the whole time and he hadn't even realized.

god, he's fucking stupid.

he feels like he should feel something when jack takes out his torn up arm but at most, he glances down to where it is now -- whole on his right side. he hasn't bothered to test the mechanics of it here, to see if his things are still accessible. what's the point? the stuff in his arm, all of his important atlas documents and blueprints, his memories of his friends, his stupid freggin' echojournal. he wonders if he could access it here, watch the logs all over again and see where he can find the exact moment he turned from... whatever he once was to whatever he is now. he's not quite sure anymore if he was a good person then but he definitely knows he's not a good person now. he hopes jack destroys it since there's no damn point to it all anymore -- or maybe, maybe he can take it as his own? rhys destroyed hyperion, jack can have atlas. rhys doesn't deserve the company any more but jack could do it so much better with it, couldn't he? he could make pandora safe like rhys was trying to... make it a place to actually live, like jack was originally doing before the vault hunters stopped him.

he's fine with watching this, watching jack take the arm apart and repurpose it for his own until suddenly, jack starts to speak. rhys' brow furrows and he can't help but pay attention, wondering what jack could possibly have on his mind right now until he realizes -- it's him. jack's talking about him, rhys. rhys' breath catches in his throat and he finally lifts his head from his legs, watching the screen with intense eyes.

he needs -- he wishes -- fuck. he finds himself unfolding from the chair and approaching the screen with outstretched arms. he listens to jack and can't help the boiling need to respond. this is the closest he's felt to the guy since... since... two weeks ago. it really has been a while, huh?

always trusting people i know i goddamn shouldn't. ]

Wait --

[ don't get it, though. it doesn't make any goddamn sense. ]

Wait.

[ he could've killed me. had plenty of chances, since i didn't think he'd screw me. ]

Wait, Jack!

[ jack's voice quiets and rhys is left clutching the screen of the video feed, eyes watering once more as he just... doesn't now quite how to process this. there's so many feelings churning in his gut and he wants to go back, wants to talk to jack, wants to -- ]

... I'm so sorry, Jack. I am so, so sorry.

[ apologize. he wants to apologize. rhys takes a step back from the screen, slowly sinking to his knees and pressing his hands to his face as the tears finally start to spill over. he hurts, he hurts so bad because at least -- at least jack didn't abandon him in the end, did he? he tried to help until he knew he couldn't help any more. he helped liz, right? because that must have been what happened, he must have been the one to pull the monster out of her but keep her alive. he must've tried the same for rhys because why wouldn't he? why wouldn't jack help him? but rhys was far too gone at that point, even fiona knew and that's why she didn't fight it. that had to be the reason why because nothing else made any sense. why would everyone just abandon him? why would no one believe him? why would fiona stay so silent? there's only one clear option here and it's because he was the bad guy and jack was the hero who was going to save the day.

the only one who didn't know this was rhys. ]

week four - thursday?? thursday night or friday

[jackhole]

[ basically, we're doing the cuddling thread now.

so! they've been fairing pretty well since swapping with clover and minako, getting their bearings again and being weirdly in sync with each other all the way through the rest of the day, dinner, and getting back to the room -- and seriously, climbing a ladder while handcuffed together? it totally sucked.

but now, rhys is feeling fairly tired and finds himself with his eyes drooping from wherever he is next to jack and after a moment... yeah, totally drifts off against his shoulder.

he'll wake up a moment later with a swear and sort of jerk up hard enough to pull jack's hand with him. sorry, jack! ]

Shit, ah. Shit!

[refactor]

[ Jack is at his desk, probably working on something, but that something doesn't particularly matter. It's the sort of thing where Jack probably just bullied Rhys into letting him work, and to be completely fair to Rhys, it's probably pretty boring. Even as enthralling as Rhys may find Jack, he's also the kind of person that does actually stop talking when he's focused.

He's so into his work and relatively at ease with Rhys at his side that he doesn't even really notice as Rhys creeps closer. It's only once Rhys taps against his shoulder that Jack looks over to him, and his lip quickly curly in a sort of amused disgust. Rhys jerks up just as Jack laughs, and it's easy to see the delight in Jack's eyes that makes it clear that he's about to get gently bullied. ]

Woaaahhh cupcake, tired much? Thank you for at least not drooling on my friggin' shirt.

[jackhole]

[ why are you bullying him, what did he ever do to you? but seriously, while he does enjoy watching jack work because -- well, he just enjoys watching jack, as creepy as that sounds -- it... was getting boring and it was getting late. rhys rubs his palm into his eye with a yawn and tries to wake himself up a little. up, up, up, rhys. get up! ]

Yeah, I -- I didn't sleep much last night? And it's. Uh. Late.

[ god, so awkward. he glances back at the bunks behind them before frowning slightly from his place at jack's side, slumping a little. ]

... Don't really want to sleep on the floor though. [ and then he looks down at his clothes with another frown. ] Or in my actual clothes. I miss my pajamas.

[ that last sentence was a little petulant, honestly. baby's a little cranky. ]

[refactor]

[ Jack looks at his work for a moment more as Rhys complains, but with a sigh, he lifts his opposite wrist to look at his watch, and— Okay, yeah, it is kind of late, actually. It's too easy for him to get sucked into his work, since this is just a part of his driven personality. If there's work to be done, it's hard for him to stop until it's done, even when it's something a little more trivial like this. ]

Yeah, yeah...

[ Jack's response is dismissive and idle at first, as if he's half-listening. It might seem like Rhys is about to have to just sit up and deal with it, since Jack is the one that really decides things here, but thankfully, he takes off his glasses. Jack reaches up to run a hand through his hair as he thinks something over, because in truth, he's pretty tired too. There was really not configuration that they'd tried the previous night that was any kind of comfortable for either of them... Getting about an hour's sleep at a time was less than ideal.

He does get an idea, but. No. No? That would be totally gay. But on the other hand, it would be really nice to sleep.

There's the kind of thoughtful quiet that persists for a few moments as Jack mulls over this Deep Internal Conflict, but ultimately— ]

...Okay, so. If. And I stress if. We shared a bunk, would you not make it weird, kiddo?

[ He feels like he has to ask, but in truth, that's the best option here. Even without a murder this week, Jack doesn't exactly feel any more comfortable not being well-rested. There's something else going on for him here, after all. So later, this will probably be ironic, since his decision to cuddle up to an alien in disguise is based on wanting to be better prepared to fight an alien in disguise. ]

[jackhole]

[ rhys really, really doesn't want to have to sleep on the floor. so, when jack pulls off his glasses and starts to, well, think -- rhys gets kind of excited. it says something about him, probably, that he's letting jack dictate his basic functions such as... going to sleep. eurgh.

but jack takes a while and rhys finds his eyes drooping again, his body leaning towards the warmth next to him instinctively and he's... so... tired...

he's so tired that he almost doesn't process exactly what jack's suggesting there. when he speaks, rhys' eyebrows furrow with confusion before -- oh. ohhh. ]

I'm not going to make it weird, Jack. Why would I ever make it weird? [ rhys... ] No, we can share. It'll be fine.

[ thankfully for them both, rhys isn't really aware of the second part of what's going on here. jack's worries, rhys' secret. all of that together -- it's the last thing on his mind. he isn't even concerned about his other secret, the one about atlas. it's all kind of irrelevant right now and instead, he pushes himself up from his chair and seems a little brighter than a moment before. ]

C'mon, let's -- let's sleep.

[refactor]

Yyyyyeah, whatever you say, Rhysie.

[ Jack actually gets up with Rhys, since he's at enough of a stopping point that he doesn't mind. He reaches to the cuffs just as smoothly to briefly undo them, since he does at least want to change if they're going to be... actually doing this. He doesn't want to sleep in his normal clothes either, if that's the case. It's kind of weird to think about, but it would definitely be too hot.

Of course, that's not to say that it actually bothers him enough to have, like, modesty. He heads over to his closet to grab a tank top to sleep in, but as he does, he peels off his shirt. Enjoy the dad bod as always, Rhys. ]

C'mon though. Don't want to waste our friggin' hour.

[ In any other context, encouraging Rhys to change more quickly would be a little g-- No, it's gay even in this context. They're both just accepting it. ]

[jackhole]

[ when jack uncuffs the two of them, rhys mindlessly rubs his wrist with one hand which ... would be less weird if the hand that was cuffed wasn't the robot hand so, yeah, he's just standing there rubbing the metal. his eyes follow jack and he sort of mindlessly watches him strip for a moment before oh, oh right. ]

Right... yeah. Then I'm going to go shower real quick.

[ and off he dashes into the bathroom! well, he'll probably grab his pajamas really quick. jack can probably hear the water going a moment later. at least they can both change in pri...vate...? look, rhys wasn't going to strip in front of jack and that's final.

either way, twenty minutes later he'll be coming out of the bathroom in sweatpants, a tank top, and socks. he's drying his hair with a towel as he yawns sleepily, warms and content. he's totally ready for sleep. ]

Who's getting the wall?

[refactor]

[ Jack nods, but waves Rhys off dismissively as he definitely continues to just get undressed without a care in the world in that department. He'd absolutely sleep in the nude as he prefers to if that weren't, you know. Weird.

While Rhys is in the shower, it gives Jack some brief time to himself, so there's quick tapping away at his datapad to review and update his notes that he certainly doesn't want Rhys to see. But of course, that's quick. Really, all he has to add are notes on Clover and Minako, since they're the only people he has any real new notes on. It's brief, and he ends up glancing to the bathroom door idly as Rhys is still showering. ]

Moron. Shouldn't take you that long to shower...

[ He stands from his desk and heads to the bed instead, since by now, he's feeling tired too. It's the sort of thing that tends to hit him all at once rather than gradually, like he's suddenly aware of how little he's slept in the past few days. He reaches up to rub his face, and as his fingers rub near the latches of the mask, it's tender enough to make him frown, though that frown also deepens.

His hand lingers at his face for a few moments, but hesitantly, he starts to undo the latch that his fingers had brushed against.

When Rhys steps out of the bathroom, Jack's back is to him. It's clear that he's holding something in his hands, which might be slightly worrying from Jack, especially since there's a tension clear in his posture. He ignores Rhys's question, and his voice is fairly stern. ]

Hey, so. Just puttin' this out there, but you tell anyone about this? You're dead.

[ That's definitely how you get in the mood for cuddling, right... Though at least it's quickly apparent why Jack's mood has changed so much in those twenty minutes or so. He turns to look towards Rhys, and that strange, uncanny mask is in his hands, but of course that's not likely to be what Rhys notices first. It may have been mentioned in his profile, but it was another thing entirely to see Jack's face without the mask. The scarring is as significant as the profile implies, though several years old at this point. It's a sharp, distinct shape that absolutely holds meaning to people who know anything about Vaults. It's unmistakably the symbol of a Vault burned into his face to the point that his eyes are even more mismatched with one blinded by that injury.

He sets the mask down on the bedside table, but his posture doesn't relax any more. He's clearly measuring Rhys for a reaction here, though it's not quite to see how Rhys takes in the sight itself. More, he's measuring it to see how much he can trust Rhys with the knowledge of something that well-guarded. It's a bit ironic, since for someone who has no problems stripping in front of Rhys, taking off the mask involved quite a bit more trust than that. Which, of course, he plays off. ]

'Cause, y'know, the latches friggin' suck after, what, three days?

week 9 - wednesday morning

[refactor]

[ They need time to collect their things to monitor him, and so far as Jack is concerned, that's a very happy coincidence. He's calm and casual when he returns to his room, but as soon as that door is closed, he's possessed by nothing short of a manic, frantic energy. It's up the ladder and into his room, because as there's often been since Rhys died, there's a series of partially finished projects sitting on his desk. There are various parts scattered on his desk with tools, chaotic, but also neat so long as you understood the method behind it. Working on the arm had reinvigorated some of his spark to tinker and create things, though everything so far had a very specific purpose. ]

Hah— 'Bout friggin' time. I mean- Ha, I mean, what kind of heroes do they think they are? The kind that waits three weeks before they even remember what happened?

[ Jack laughs, though it's at least not in that manic, frantic way. He really does seem to find it hilarious more than anything else. He takes a seat at his desk with a flourish and puts on his glasses, since he has to work quickly here on finishing up his project. He had imagined he'd have it done today, but he hadn't expected to not have the evening to do it. He gets to work quickly wrapping a small metal dowel with wire, twisting and tying it in such a way that the piece is hooked onto one end. ]

Whaddya think, Alice?

[ He's speaking to her now, though he has no idea if she'll even respond. He does this often when he's alone now, since after she came into his head, it's like he doesn't want her to have any peace at all. Every word is a barbed jab and very overtly threatening, but they're tied together now. In that, Jack feels paradoxically more secure and not at all. ]

You want me to get rid of aliens? I think- Man, I really think you should be helping me out, sweetheart! You're so quiet lately, I guess because you're a stupid, frigid bitch, even for an AI. But, heyyy, you wouldn't let me get locked up, would you? That would-- Man, that would totally ruin your hopes of getting your shit on track. What do you think? Can your Kampff, oh, singular by the way, how do you think they'll be doing without a Master Chief?

[ With the wire done, he turns his metal arm over and runs his fingers along the underside until his fingers catch a latch just above where his arm ends. He pulls it out, and there's a spool, though it's empty. He takes the wire and starts to lace it thruogh, still crude, but it'll be enough. He wraps the wire around, and it's clear just what this is. To go with the blade obscured to look like a hack job of stealing Rhys's arm, this is a garrote that he'll always have with him. They may be taking his gun, but clearly, Jack has his own plans to make sure he's always armed and ready to deal with a situation.

The spool is wound up quickly, and that small metal bar sticks out just slightly enough that grabbing it and pulling would undo the wire, but it doesn't look that strange against the bent chrome either. Luckily, the arm couldn't be smoothly modified with what he had here. It ended up being more of a help than he would have guessed, and at this point? He can't complain too much for losing the hand, since it's giving him other options now.

He stands and starts to clean off the desk of what he's been working on, but of course, he's not done talking yet. ]

You want me to do what's necessary, then you've gotta help me out here. Let some fucking children take my gun, and ohhh, you should be glad that it's Liz of all people to get it, and you're screwing me here, Al. And you know what? I don't have to say a damn word about what I know. You-- You said you weren't worried about people accessing your mainframe, right? Well, you should be, cupcake. Because I'm in it now.

[ His laughter increases and though he doesn't have anything to look at in particular, he still directs his attention up with a smile that's all teeth, like he's challenging Alice herself. ]

I'll kill you. You start helping me out, giving me information, an advantage, something? And I'll back off. But until then? I'm going to make sure every stupid asshole on this ship is gunning to take you down. Because you think you can control me? Scare me with some visions and a little strangulation? Good fucking luck.

[jackhole]

[ rhys is nervous when he takes in the scene in front of him, the question already leaving his mouth before he processes what's happening. he isn't sure what changed -- what happened between him going to the bathroom and coming back out and he drops the towel around his neck before taking a hesitant step... back. ]

... Tell anyone about what, Jack?

[ he's surprised that he doesn't stumble over his question, instead keeping his composure a bit as jack turns to him -- the warm contentment from only a moment ago turning into ice. his eyes stay on jack and there's a short gasp that leaves him as he sees the scar -- the vault scar. there's been so many rumors about what's under jack's mask during his time in hyperion, just a constant question weighing at the back of everyone employee's mind. reading that it was a scar felt... weird, initially, and that's why rhys took is so lightly because -- well, he really couldn't ask jack about the truth.

he hadn't thought it'd be a vault symbol... but it's kind of fitting, he thinks. of all the things that could be branded on handsome jack's face, of course it had to do with the vaults.

without thinking, rhys feels his eye light up to scan jack's face and he immediately slaps his hand over it, grinning sheepishly as he urges his brain to turn off. ]

Shit, sorry -- I wasn't thinking. Just a reflex.

[ he didn't catch anything on his eye and he hopes jack knows that. instead, he moves forward to jack, robot hand clenching and unclenching at his side and flesh hand covering his echo because he's so damn curious about this. he really, really is. still, this is jack and jack is... terrifying and a monster but rhys still has such stupid amounts of affection for him, if he's honest with himself. jack's still human despite everything else (including the ai thing) and rhys isn't going to treat him like less than that -- especially not right now. ]

Look, I'm not going to tell anyone. We're friends, right? And this is obviously a big deal for you and -- uhm. I don't know, man. I don't want to make it weird but I'm a hug-y kind of guy and now I really want to hug you.

[ at least he's honest?? but he'll drop his hand now and his echo eye is firmly shut off this time, no reflex kicking it on and he just sort of shrugs a little, crossing his arms over his chest. his eyes are still fixed on jack's face, taking in every detail he possibly can right now because he knows this isn't going to... well, last. ]

I'm not going to ask either because... well, I don't want to know.

[ and it kind of surprises him to realize that's the truth -- he doesn't want to know. he doesn't want one more idealistic belief he held about jack to be popped, to realize that something he admired jack for is twisted up in something awful jack did and lied about. he just wants to keep jack's image preserved as it is for him, no matter how messed up and conflicted rhys is about it currently. ]

-- But if you want something from like, the medbay? Lotion, I guess? Something to make it hurt less, I can get that for you. It looks kind of painful, Jack.

RHYS' ECHO DIARY

[jackhole]

[ since jack is so desperate to poke and prod into rhys' personal life, he'll finally come across something pretty... interesting on the harddrive. it's a folder, buried under a few other ones and very clearly put out of the way. not a secret, really, but more like something rhys just doesn't want to deal with all the time -- not until he's ready.

the folder itself isn't titled anything special -- rhys literally just called it "fucking garbage emo shit" out of frustration and left it at that. still, when jack opens the folder he'll see... videos. like, a lot of videos. they're all titled "vid_001" "vid_002" "vid_003" and so on and so forth but at the very top of the folder is a txt file.

in that txt file is a list.

1. two weeks after helios
2. five weeks after helios
3. eight weeks
4. ten weeks
5. thirteen
6. 16

so on and so forth.

you get the idea. ]

> vid_001

[jackhole]

ECHO DIARY ENTRY #1: TWO WEEKS AFTER THE FALL OF HELIOS

[ when rhys comes on the screen, he doesn't look... good. he's in what looks like a hospital bed, eye covered in gauze, temple port also covered in gauze, and a giant hole in his arm where his cybernetics used to be... also too covered in gauze. he's in a old faded hyperion t-shirt and there are cuts and bruises on his face and body, slowly healing up.

when the video pops on, his one good eye looks a little frantic before settling on the camera in relief and he smiles slightly before lifting his free hand to run through his hair -- except, well, the free hand was holding up the tablet recording him so it falls onto his lap and shows a good shot of the ceiling. there's a quick swear from rhys and then he grabs the tablet again, holding it back up. ]

Fuck -- I just. I totally forgot how to use a tablet. I'm so used to my freggin' arm.

[ he pauses, a pained look on his face and this is one of those times rhys would be running his free hand over his face or pinching his nose or a thousand other fidgety habits he has -- but he can't. ]

... Okay. Okay, first entry. I, uhm. I called my parents? I told them it was the crash and bandits and -- wait. Shit, fuck. I'm doing this all wrong, I have to explain. This, this is supposed to... be a log, right? ECHO log. I have to --

[ his eye looks away from the camera and he bites his lip, visibly tearing for a moment. he takes a sobering breath before looking back at the camera and in a firmer voice: ]

Handsome Jack tried to kill me.

[ and just like that, he crumples. his free eye overflows with tears and he drops his head back against the wall, looking up at the ceiling as he just lets it come. ]

I -- I put all my trust in him. All my faith! I thought, I fucking thought we could do things together. I was so stupid. Blinded by fucking loyalty and thought, I don't know. I thought we were partners? I just wanted to give him back Hyperion, rule it with him, be something with him.

[ a pause and angrily, he lets out in a sob -- ]

Then he betrays me and I had no other option! I had to kill him! I had to kill everyone!

[ he throws the tablet afterwards, a spinning view of the hospital room is seen before it slams right into the wall and cuts out. ]

> vid_002

[jackhole]

ECHO DIARY ENTRY #2: FIVE WEEKS AFTER THE FALL OF HELIOS

[ when rhys shows up again, he looks a bit healthier. there's no gauze but there's an empty scabbed over hole in his head for his port and his eye is covered with an eyepatch. his arm is still missing and he wears a hyperion sweater -- the right sleeve hanging loosely on his side.

he's sitting on a bed but this time, it's not in a hospital but what looks like a house -- the bedroom furnished in homey yet impersonal decor. his tablet is held in his hand and he smiles sadly, tired. ]

Hi, uh... me. Future me. I highly doubt I'll be sharing these with anyone -- maybe Vaughn?

[ a pause and his face twists in grief before he looks down at his lap. then he shakes his head and back to the camera, hint of a smile gone once more. ]

Future me. [ . . . ] So, you're back with your parents for a... moment. That sucks? Not that they're bad but, well, I miss my apartment. My home. My life. They turned my bedroom into a guest room, can you believe that? I mean, I guess you can. You're me. But, right, Eden-5 isn't really how I remember it, I think I've been away too long and people -- they keep... I don't know how people figured out I came from Pandora but they stare at me now, like I'm the freak here? Which, what the fuck?

[ he looks frustrated for a moment before huffing, hard enough to blow the bangs out of his face and he sighs. ]

I'm just here to get my cybernetics back. With Helios gone, I had to come back here and -- and my dad said he'd pay for them which, admittedly, is pretty great right now since I lost all my identification in the wreckage. I have money, I just need to access it and once I can --

[ he pauses again and again, looks frustrated. ]

This isn't what I want to talk about. Who cares about fucking errands I have to run? No, I've gotta talk about Jack. I have to -- I have to say it. Out loud. Say what happened or it doesn't seem real.

[ there's a minute or so of silence as rhys thinks before finally, in a calm voice he goes for it. ]

My friends are all dead. Jack is dead. I destroyed Helios. I killed thousands and thousands of people. It's all my fault.

[ a nod then as he seems to accept this and turns off the video. ]

> vid_003

[jackhole]

ECHO DIARY ENTRY #3: EIGHT WEEKS AFTER THE FALL OF HELIOS

[ the most noticeable thing about rhys this time around is he has both eyes. the hole in his head is filled in and a long silver cybernetic arm is attached to his shoulder. he's shirtless, standing in front of a mirror and holding up his new hand to record, taking in the whole new look. his eyes seem to hesitate slightly on the scars around his shoulder but then he brightens, looking back to his face. ]

I guess -- I guess he felt bad or something, not that I actually told them what happened. Still, guess the old man felt bad enough to really put the big bucks into this. I have to pay him back somehow, I think. Maybe when I get Atlas up and running? I don't know, that's going to take a while. Still, it's so nice to see again. To pick up things with both hands -- to just... to just function!

[ and then suddenly, the video shorts out with a large burst of static. when it comes back a second later, rhys has a shirt on, a plain white button up, and he's sitting on his bed, still in the guest room from his previous entry. he's using the tablet this time. ]

So, still need to get adjusted to the arm. The tech itself is way more advanced than anything I got from Hyperion but like all things, I need to get used to it. I don't have any of my old files either and I -- well, I damaged the harddrive pretty bad impaling it. There's no way I could recover anything, huh?

[ he rubs the back of his neck then, awkward and uncomfortable as he looks away from the camera. ]

Plus... what if he's still in it? No. No, I have to start fresh. Clean drive. Clean tech. I can rebuild.

[ a nod and he ends the video. ]

> vid_004

[jackhole]

ECHO DIARY ENTRY #4: TEN WEEKS AFTER THE FALL OF HELIOS

[ this time, rhys isn't in a bedroom. he's in a brand new location, an apartment. it's pretty minimalist, fancy, kinda upscale. rhys is sitting at a desk, in front of a computer that's recording him and behind him is a view of his living room (leather sofa, glass coffee table) and kitchenette (metal stools, chrome everything). past that is a view of a pretty nice looking city, showing that he's pretty high up off the ground.

rhys is dressed in a white dress shirt, black vest and black slacks. the sleeves of his shirt are folded up to his elbows and for the first time since he started this video log, his hair is slicked back -- a few loose bangs falling over his face. he's leaning forward in his seat, hands pressed together against his mouth as he thinks. eyes flicking up to the video, he sighs before folding his hands and resting his chin on his knuckles. ]

I miss... I miss talking to someone, which is probably why I started this stupid diary. I can't see like, a shrink or anything -- not for something like this. I have no idea if Fiona or Sasha are still alive and if they are -- they definitely don't want to talk to me. They ditched me on Helios for crying out loud, those fucking assholes. Like hell would I talk to them anyway? [ he looks angry for a moment before he relaxes, the grief lingering on him since the first video returning. ] As for Vaughn... I left Vaughn with Vallory and last I heard, her and all her men were dead. There's no way he survived that.

[ he leans back in his chair, arms crossing over his chest as he sways back and forth and continues to look lost in thought. ]

I don't... really have any friends. Vaughn is -- was my best friend. Yvette, well, you know how that turned out. I thought Fiona was something but... nevermind what I thought about Fiona, it was obviously wrong.

[ a shake of his head and his head falls back against his chair. he talks up to the ceiling now. ]

Jack felt like a friend. He really did, you know? I know it was stupid of me, the guy spent most of his time calling me an idiot but damn, everything felt so right with him anyway. I know he was just an AI, someone's own made up idea of him -- maybe even the original Jack's idea -- but he was still so much fun. I really thought I was an exception -- that he liked me, that he wanted to keep me around. Guess that wasn't ever really the plan, in the end.

[ a few moments of silence again and then he sits back up, looking at the camera. ]

I have an appointment tomorrow to see what's left under Atlas's name and claim it. Properties, both intellectual and physical. Products. Employees -- though that one's probably ehhhhhh, considering Athena. Anything that could possibly be owned by Atlas, it's mine to take so, uh, I will. I'll take it because --

[ rhys pauses and he looks unsure for a moment, like he's not ready to voice this just yet. he steels himself though, chokes it out. ]

I have to rebuild. I have to right the wrongs that Jack has done. Hyperion is over, everyone died along with the company. If I can do something good with this, fix some of the bad I've done, maybe I won't be the worst person in the universe anymore. Maybe.

[ then, he bites his bottom lip before reaching forward and ending the video. ]

> vid_005

[jackhole]

ECHO DIARY ENTRY #5: THIRTEEN WEEKS AFTER THE FALL OF HELIOS

I almost forgot about this thing again.

[ this time, rhys is using his new arm. he's in his apartment, on the balcony outside and it's the middle of the night. he's in that hyperion sweater from before and a pair of blue boxers, asymmeterical of course. in his mouth is a lit cigarrette and he's taking a drag from it while he waits for the video to start up before blowing the smoke and holding it between the fingers of his flesh hand.

he's... not looking so good, actually. kind of pale, clammy. upset. ]

I have nightmares now which -- which is bullshit, you know? I never had nightmares before. After Jack and his... everything, I can't stop dreaming about it. [ he laughs and it's sad, broken. he takes another drag of his cigarette. ] He was my hero and we were supposed to be partners and one moment, everything's fine? It's so fine. Why wouldn't I upload him into Helios then? Of course I would. I'd do anything for him. So, I fucking put him in Helios and he looks so damn proud and then -- and then he was trying to kill me. Take my body as his fucking flesh suit. What kind of insanity is that? I'd, I'd like... rot. I could've put him in a robot! That would've been fine! Not even a Claptrap but like, a Loader Bot or something cool like that. Hell, I'd build it myself! He knew I was good with cybernetics! I don't fucking use these things for my health, fucking asshole. But noooo, he wanted my body. Mine. And he killed Dumpy for it too. Fucking bullshit.

[ he huffs and the video jerks, as he shifts to sit down on one of the chairs on his balcony. his leg taps up and down in an anxious movement and he tips the ash off his cigarette with a quick flick of the finger. ]

Is there... is there something about me? I have to ask. Is there something wrong? Something that makes people I trust want to betray me? The people I love? Vaughn agreed to betray me -- which, like, I know he wouldn't but it still stung. Yvette actually did betray me. Fiona abandoned me. Jack tried to kill me. Is there something wrong with me? Well, h-haha, fuck! Jokes on them because they're all dead and I'm not. So fuck them!

[ he freezes for a moment before pressing his face to his hands suddenly and starting to sob. the video turns black but there's the soft sounds of rhys crying for a few minutes until it finally just shuts off. ]

> vid_006

[jackhole]

ECHO DIARY ENTRY #6: SIXTEEN WEEKS AFTER THE FALL OF HELIOS

[ rhys is starting to look pretty tired. his efforts to get his life back in order keeps hitting highs and lows and as he sits in front of his computer this time, he pulls his knees up to his chest and presses his forehead to his legs. when he speaks, it's muffled against his clothes -- pajamas again, faded yellow hyperion pajamas. his hair is very much ungelled and actually looks a bit greasy. ]

I should make these things weekly, right? I'm not even -- no one's even watching this. They're all just getting uploaded to my arm the moment I'm done. What's the point?

[ he sighs and looks towards something on the desk, keeping his eyes focused there as he gets into what he wants to talk about. ]

I... miss Jack. It's so stupid, isn't it? But I really do miss him. Once we started getting along, it was great? Felt like I could tell him anything, even if he was an annoying asshole a lot of the time. Things were just... funnier with Jack around, like it was us against the world! That kind of thing.

[ he drops his head against his knees again, thumping his forehead a few times with a long groan. ]

Ohhh, I'm such an idiot.

[ he reaches out then to grab something from the desk, legs dropping to the floor as he picks it up and holds it in his fingers. it's his old echo eye, blinking blue every once in a while and ready to be... reworked, somehow. he looks pensive for a moment, considering. ]

I really want to put him in something new, you know? Something that won't... kill me, but -- but I don't think he'd be happy with that. He promised to kill me if I ever woke him up again. I don't doubt he'll try. I'm not... sure if I want to risk that. I don't think I can.

[ he watches the echo eye for a few more moments before shaking his head and reaching over to turn off the video. ]

[refactor]

[ It's easy to see how drawn up and defensive Jack is, since really, once you know how to read him? Jack is as open as a book. There's the sort of tense danger in every inch of his posture that's threatening, but it's much more like Jack is daring Rhys to say something. That's the way it always is. Jack can open the door a crack to let someone see the kind of man he truly was, but if they didn't react the way he liked-- Well. There were many corpses to attest as to how that tended to go.

So when Rhys's eye lights up, Jack seizes up, and he's quick to step forward with a vicious expression. From anyone else, this would be a bit startling, sure, but from Jack? There was never any real doubt that he would absolutely just grab the eye right out of Rhys's head. It actually seems like Jack has half a mind to do exactly that, but the way Rhys quickly recoils to cover his eye also seems to stop Jack from that course of action. He doesn't seem any more inclined to relax, at least not until Rhys starts talking.

First, his brow knits in conclusion, since Rhys is rambling and making things weird again (as usual), and Jack absolutely opens his mouth to make a rude comment about that. However, he's surprised in a different way when Rhys doesn't push about what it is or where it comes from. That's what gets him to relax, ultimately. It's not something that Jack reveals casually, because he hates the questions that come with it. For once, there's the obvious, since telling the story about how you got a friggin' Vault symbol seared into your face kind of sucks, but more than that, it's the circumstances that had come before that really bothered him. No one likes relaying stories about being betrayed, and Jack least of all.

Instead, he turns away, which is as good a sign that Rhys is off the hook here as any. He nods to the bed, since apparently Jack's taking the wall. It's easily taken as personal preference, but this is a quiet sign of Jack's paranoia. In his mind, he'd rather be against the wall, because in the off chance someone comes in for an ambush, then, sucks for Rhys, but he's gonna be the first to go. Later, the irony of this thought would probably make him sick. ]

Nnnnnope, you are not lotioning me up, pumpkin. That's? Man. That's too far. Like, friggin' making out with you wouldn't be as gay as you feeling up my scar.

[ He scoffs, the picks up the handcuffs before beckoning for Rhys's wrist to cuff them together again. ]

C'mon. After all your bitching about going to sleep, now I'm tired too.