Work Text:
Serenity’s Waste stood cold and silent like it did most afternoons; the thin atmosphere and lack of any ready entertainment kept most people away. All things considered, it was a rather pleasant place to be for someone wanting to get out of Concordia for a few hours so long as you weren’t afraid of a Kraggon or two popping up. Maybe six or seven on a bad day. The vastness of space spanned out overhead, unblinded by light pollution like the more populated areas of Elpis. It was a good place to spend time thinking, to watch the stars blinking out in the distance and contemplate your place in the Universe.
Or to tap into some secure ECHO networks without being disturbed or noticed.
The secure networks running directly from Sanctuary had gone quiet just over an hour ago. Nothing appeared to be transmitting in or out. At first he’d thought he’d lost his connection, maybe someone had finally noticed a tap on their network coming from Elpis - he’d only been listening in for almost a year, after all - and had managed to cut him out. However, the longer he tried to reconnect without luck, the more he suspected that someone had pulled Sanctuary’s communications from the net directly. Or was jamming their signals.
Communications had gone dead about the same time a team of Vault Hunters had descended on Thousand Cuts in an attempt to steal Handsome Jack’s vault key. Timothy had been listening in on their movements, the seamless coordination between the group of Vault Hunters. The team of Vault Hunters, that frankly, didn’t seem to care about the lack of security the ECHOnet around Pandora provided them. Despite Timothy being hooked up to the Crimson Raiders’ network for the last year, he’d hardly gleaned any relevant intelligence. Most of what he heard on the Raiders’ movements came secondhand or the transmissions he did hear were completely nonsense. Nothing of substance.
Roland was a tactician and understood the importance of privacy.
But the Vault Hunters chattered over the ECHOnet without a care in the world. They planned their heists, coordinated their movements, and communicated directly over the ECHOnet with Sanctuary on a regular basis. It was certainly easier to do that than have to travel back to Sanctuary whenever they needed to check in or receive new orders. Also, a bit sloppy in Timothy’s opinion, perhaps a bit too cocky for their own good, these new Vault Hunters. Not that he could exactly blame them; he’d been in their shoes at one point. The way they argued and the trust they had in one another during firefights had stung at first, reminding Timothy of a time when he’d had a team like that.
The longer he listened, the more the nostalgia eased.
Timothy startled out of his thoughts when a priority alert sounded on his work ECHO. Priority alert meant something from Jack, and Timothy fumbled quickly to open the message, Jack’s voice coming through angry and pitched and perhaps just a bit overwhelmed. “I need you down on Pandora yesterday!” Jack’s voice filled his HUD, nearly deafening. Timothy winced, cranking his volume settings down.
“On it,” he answered immediately, but Jack had already hung up. Letting out a long breath, eyes slipping shut for a brief moment, Timothy opened them when he heard a ping, a new waypoint added to the map in the corner of his HUD. The tapped open his map to see the waypoint settling over the Hyperion Control Core in Thousand Cuts. Not exactly unexpected. A short message that Jack would have more instructions incoming popped up over his HUD. Closing out of all the notifications, Timothy clambered up to his feet, gaze turning immediately toward Pandora. The orange-red planet stared back at him, everything too far away from Elpis to make out any distinguishing characteristics on the planet. Like a certain Hyperion outpost. Not that it would have mattered if Pandora and Elpis were closer, the Control Core was located on the other side of the planet from where Elpis currently faced.
Taking a great leap off the top of the hill he’d been perched on, Timothy grumbled minimally about the soreness in his knees; the cold vacuum of space had really been irritating his joints as of late. Timothy let the limited gravity slowly pull him back down to the surface of the planet before he took another long leap across the surface of the moon, setting the fastest pace he could considering the low gravity back toward Concordia. The travel hub would be the quickest way down to the surface of Pandora; a quick fast-travel up to Helios and another jump from there could take him directly to the Control Core.
It had been a long time since Jack had sent Timothy into a firefight with only his digi-Jacks as backup; it had been an even longer time since Timothy had left Elpis, and he felt an unpleasant uneasiness rolling around in his chest.
Angel’s dead. bury her somewhere nice. dealing with vhs.
Those were the descriptive and important instructions that Jack transmitted to Timothy’s ECHO. They’d come in while he was inputting the correct coordinates and authorizations into one of Helios’ fast-travels to get him down to the Control Core. He’d only rolled his eyes a little at the lack of any actual direction. Then again, Jack had just lost his daughter and was apparently dealing with the team of Vault Hunters. A team that Timothy had learned in the past month was more than capable of taking care of themselves; would Jack even make it out of that firefight alive?
Ridiculous. Of course he would.
Jack was wrathful and prideful, but he wasn’t stupid. If he thought he was in a losing fight, he wouldn’t stick around just in the hopes of killing some troublesome Vault Hunters. Even if those Hunters had stolen his Vault Key.
The thoughts ended abruptly when Timothy materialized on the surface of Pandora, completely floored by how hot and dry Pandora really was. He’d never spent a great deal of time planetside, but he’d grown accustomed to the cold vacuum of space. Even Helios felt cold much of the time, all shining metal and temperature controlled environments. Timothy coughed, pounding a fist against his chest to clear the ache from the dust he’d breathed in upon landing; his eyes watered from the heat. The second thing he noticed upon landing on Pandora was the utter silence, reminiscent of his hill in Serenity’s Waste. He’d only been to the Control Core once before, when Jack had first built the place out in the deserted wastes of Pandora. Still, like the rest of Hyperion’s facilities, there should have been at least some noise: the clamp of loaderbots stomping around on the metal fixtures or the hum of engines running within the Control Core. Instead there was nothing.
Wiping the accumulated moisture from his eyes, Timothy unslung his favorite Tediore SMG from over his shoulder, watching for any movement. Just because he didn’t hear anything didn’t mean that there weren’t still enemies around. He also wouldn’t have put it past Jack to have forgotten to take down a security protocol or two for Timothy’s arrival. Although, it was equally possible that any security system would be programmed to desist attacking anyone with Jack’s face.
Timothy slowly climbed the circular stairs to the top of the Control Core, stepping around the disembodied bot parts and excess ammo and shell casings spread all across the platform. On top of the Control Core the BNK3R hung from the supports, smoldering, mortar cannons dead and hanging limply from the main body of the bot. Timothy eyed it with some trepidation, quietly relieved that he hadn’t been sent down earlier to help dispose of the Vault Hunters himself. He’d seen what they’d done to Wilhelm during their first encounter, and now with the BNK3R.
Timothy wouldn’t stand a chance.
Didn’t mean he couldn’t reap the rewards of the destroyed bot though. In particular, a pretty, Legendary Jackobs pistol that had been discarded on the ground not too far to his left. He glanced briefly over the guns stored in his inventory before deciding against the pistol, unwilling to give up anything he already had. He didn’t exactly have anywhere to store another gun, and sometimes guns from Pandora didn’t perform quite as well in space, not used to the lack of gravity and all that.
Timothy physically shook his head, trying to get himself back on task. He wasn’t here to loot, even if it did seem much more appealing than his current task. Timothy stored his SMG, relatively confident that the Vault Hunters had long gone, leaving the Control Core dead and deserted; he was probably the only thing alive for miles. At least between there and the nearby SLAB camp, and even then, he couldn’t see anything move on the other side of the deadzone.
The top of the Control Core really was quite high, wasn’t it?
Best to head inside then before that thought nauseated him too much.
Timothy followed the trail of dead bots down to the entrance to the Control Core. There were ammo crates along the way, each of them open and mostly looted. The Vault Hunters must have gone through quite the firefight to make it all the way into the Core. The doors leading inside stood open, letting the harsh Pandora heat into the once temperature controlled facility. The whole point of the facility was to charge the Vault Key, and if the Key was gone, there really was no point in attempting to maintain the systems.
Calling the elevator for the lower level, Timothy tapped his foot on the ground absently, surveying the sharp metal lines of the building. Nothing special really. The elevator pinged when it arrived, as if the loud sliding of the doors opening wouldn’t have alerted him. Timothy stepped into the cylinder, pausing when the console asked for the password. He recited it quietly, hearing the system chirp in approval as the elevator began to descend down onto the Core. He swallowed, uncomfortable, turning around to the doors and wondering how the Vault Hunters had managed to get through Jack’s voice activated security protocol.
Had they recruited one of the other doppelgangers?
Had they killed one and stolen their voice modulator?
Timothy had heard some of the things that the Vault Hunters had done; killing one of Jack’s doppelgangers certainly fell within the realm of possibility for them. If Timothy hadn’t been on Elpis, it could have very easily been him they killed. Shoving his hands into his pockets to stop his nervous shaking, Timothy stepped out into the Angel Control Core.
The ground was covered in liquid eridium, the stuff oozing grossly out of the injectors running along the ceiling, the glass tubing shattered, shards glinting sharply in the artificial lighting from among the eridium. A lightning generator nearby continued to give off sparks, but the rest stood dead in the floor. Near the center of the room, draped over another opened ammo crate was Angel.
It had been years since Timothy had actually seen her, long before the Control Core had even been built. Jack had carefully kept her out of the public eye - well, out of everyone’s eye, really - for her entire life. The Vault Hunters probably didn’t even know who they’d killed in pulling the plug on the facility; he wondered if the knowledge would have made it more or less difficult for them.
Probably less with all the shit Jack had done.
Walking closer, Timothy felt a strong spike of guilt fill his gut leaving him uncomfortably nauseated as he stood in Angel’s contrived prison; it had always been easier to handle the truth of Jack’s actions when kept far away from their direct impact. He was reminded again of why he let Nisha and Wilhelm handle Jack’s directives on Pandora. Why he had. Because here he was now, on Pandora, because there was no one else. Just him.
Relieved to find that the body wasn’t covered in blood - he’d never had a strong stomach -Timothy bent down to scoop up the lifeless body of his boss’ daughter, stumbling back and landing quite unpleasantly on his rear when she let out a soft hiss. Eyes widened in shock, heart hammering in his chest, Timothy brushed a shaking hand through his hair, sweeping the bangs back and out of his face. Angel’s brows were furrowed, body tensed, but Timothy only noticed that when she relaxed, slumping further over the ammo crate she’d been draped over.
Okay. Not dead.
Angel was very Not Dead.
At least not yet.
Scrambling back up to his feet, pointedly ignoring the ache in his tailbone from his fall and the unpleasant stickiness of the eridium that had seeped into his pants - they’d been such a nice pair too - he pressed one of his hands against the underside of her jaw none too nicely. With a bit of concern, he noted that she didn’t make a sound this time when he touched her, having gone back to looking the lifeless body he’d expected. Everything told him that she was except for the faint beat of her blood pumping against his fingers. Despite the heat, her skin was chilled, but Timothy ignored that, focused on the pulse against his hand.
Making a second attempt, Timothy scooped Angel up into his arms, letting her head roll toward his chest, caught in the juncture of his arm and shoulder. In his grip, she felt almost weightless, hardly anything compared to the amount he carried around on missions, and certainly less that she should have. Did she even eat or was it all eridium? Timothy pointedly ignored all the signs that pointed to an all eridium diet as he high-tailed it from the Control Core, the renewed waves of guilt only making his steps faster, his grip tighter.
He didn’t even know if she’d make it to Elpis.
Timothy had to admit, standing over Angel’s grave, that Springs had much better handwriting than he ever would. She’d been easy enough to track down, hiding in her workshop outside of Concordia; she had a tendency to do that when Athena was off planet somewhere, and last Timothy had heard, Athena had taken a contract on one of the outer planets. Springs had agreed to make Angel’s headstone marker, welding together bits of metal into wings and even painting it in garish Hyperion yellow.
Jack was going to love it. Or, well, appreciate it? Maybe?
Timothy stood, once again, by himself on a tall Elpis hill. He’d tried to find the closest place he could to Helios, if someone used a telescope from there, they probably could have seen right into some of Helios’ windows. Provided they had a rather powerful telescope, and that Helios windows weren’t blackened from the outside to keep out the brightness of the suns.
Timothy captured a picture of the gravesite, making sure to make it picturesque, getting some of the purple scenery in the background. There was no one around for miles, no one to bother the grave for years - Timothy knew Jack wasn’t about to come down himself - no one to realize Timothy had placed a marker on a currently empty grave.
Pulling his arms up in a stretch, tired from the trek to find the perfect site and the subsequent digging to make a realistic grave, Timothy yawned. He forwarded the image through a secure line to Jack’s ECHO devoid of a message; he’d understand. Not expecting a prompt answer, Timothy tossed the spade of the shovel over his shoulder - couldn’t forget that, he’d nabbed it from Springs before leaving her shop - he started the long descent back to civilisation.
Before he even made it down the hill his ECHO pinged with a new notification.
good work
Angel woke from her eridium induced coma only three days after being disconnected from the Control Core. Timothy had spent the first couple hours after leaving her with Nurse Nina darting around Elpis to set up her gravesite. What followed where long days fetching things for Nina, helping out with mundane tasks around Concordia, and fiddling with his ECHO next to Angel’s bed - the usual.
Angel didn’t wake loudly or violently. Timothy let out a rather loud grumble, trying and failing once again to reconnect with Sanctuary’s network. Each attempt made him question more and more whether he’d just been found out. Sanctuary couldn’t be at a standstill, could they? It seemed unlikely that the Vault Hunters would hole up in the city for longer than a day; there were things to do, people to kill.
He tried not to think of the other possibility, that Jack had followed through with his words and ‘taken care of’ the Vault Hunters. Annoyed, Timothy slumped down in his chair, digging his fingers into his eyes to rub out the soreness. He’d been staring at his ECHO for too long; he needed to get out of the room, take a walk around Concordia. Anything that didn’t mean sitting by himself in that room any longer.
Glancing over at Angel’s bed, Timothy startled upright when he found Angel’s head turned toward him, blue eyes watching him, unblinking. She didn’t seem terribly startled or surprised or much of anything, really. Just resigned. Timothy coughed, clearing the aching in his chest from the scare. “I should get Nina,” he said, voice just a bit too loud, cracking in the middle, trying to break the uneasy tension. He didn’t look back at Angel and bustled out of the room to fetch the nurse. She’d be nearby.
Angel watched Nurse Nina work with the same detached look she’d had since waking up. Timothy couldn’t help but note uncomfortably that she rarely blinked, eyes a bit lidded as she watched the people move around her. Nina for her credit, didn’t say anything about the stare. Instead, she bustled around the room, checking vitals and administering jewel-colored medications through shining glass syringes. Nina talked the entire time, voice loud and gruff as always, comforting in a way - at least for Timothy who’d grown accustomed to her voice with how often he tended to need her services. It filled the otherwise uncomfortable quiet, and in retrospect, he probably should have listened to what she was saying, things about dosages and what to be careful of and how quickly Angel was healing; he didn’t, too caught up in his own thoughts.
“You sit,” and Timothy did pay attention now, focused entirely on Nina with wide eyes as she bodily sat him back down in the chair at Angel’s bedside despite his protests and flailing limbs. “You talk to pretty girl. Nina leave you alone.” She gave Timothy a not-at-all subtle wink before leaving the room, making Timothy wonder what exactly she thought the situation between him and Angel was.
Long minutes passed in silence where Timothy wrung his hands together, fiddling with the phasers strapped to his wrists, searching desperately for something, anything to say, but coming up completely blank. He hoped that Angel wasn’t staring at him again. “You’re not him.” Timothy froze, gaze darting back to Angel. She was staring up at the ceiling, expression pursed like she’d just tasted something sour or was trying to come up with the answer to a particularly difficult math problem. Her voice was strong.
Swallowing slowly, Timothy answered, “No. I’m not.”
Angel’s head turned to the side to look at him, when their gazes caught, Timothy immediately looked away, face burning. The fingers of his right hand started up an uneasy drumbeat against his left phaser. “I knew he had body doubles, but I’ve never met one,” there was a short pause before she continued, “You don’t have a mask or a tattoo.” Timothy’s eyes darted down at his wrist, unmarked. “Surprised he’s not so thorough.”
Timothy shrugged absently. “Some of them do,” he answered honestly. Most of them, probably. “Especially the fanatics.” Jack had acquired both his mask and his tattoo after Timothy had undergone his surgery. He’d also gained Jack’s trust in that time, had become more of a confidant than just another of the ordinary body doubles; that sort of thing happened when he felt nearly everyone else had betrayed him. Jack hadn’t forced him into either of the additional pieces, hadn’t even suggested it. It would have only really mattered on Pandora anyway. Everyone important on Elpis knew who he was.
Angel didn’t answer except to say. “You’re not very good at it.” When Timothy didn’t say anything, she apparently felt the need to clarify, continuing, “Being Jack, that is.”
“I can be. It’s tiring.” And he knew he was good at it, too. He’d attended Hyperion meetings, brokered deals with other weapons manufacturers, and terrorized bandit camps without anyone so much as suggesting that he couldn’t possibly be Jack. He liked to think he didn’t act that way with the people on Elpis; he hoped he didn’t.
“How long do I have?”
The question struck Timothy with that uncomfortable, nauseating coiling feeling he’d felt when taking her out of the Control Core. Angel seemed particularly good at bringing that out in him. “Uh, well, Nurse Nina would really be better equipped to answer that, and, well.” Timothy stopped, frown pulling at him lips. He rather hoped that Angel just waking up after only three days proved a good sign that she had quite a bit of time left; he really should have paid more attention to what Nina had been saying earlier.
“I mean before you take me back to Daddy Dearest.” Angel practically spat the last few words, the most emotion he’d heard from her since, well, ever. Much of their conversation so far had continued with a tone that matched the resignation in her eyes.
Timothy turned back to her, unsurprised to find her still watching him. Her lips were pursed in an unhappy tilt, waiting to hear how long it would be until she was, in all likelihood, imprisoned again. “He thinks you’re dead,” Timothy fumbled out quickly, breath leaving him in a great rush.
“What?”
“Jack. He thinks you’re dead. I told him I buried you.”
“Why?”
Timothy shook his head, gave a noncommittal shrug. He wanted to say that he didn’t know, or that this had been his plan all along, to free her, he’d just been waiting for the right opportunity. The hero at the end of the story, like Jack always called himself, but that would have all been lies. The real fact of the matter was that Timothy knew he was a coward. Completely and undeniably. He followed the moves of the Crimson Raiders and the Vault Hunters, he hadn’t stepped in to help defend any Hyperion outposts or research facilities when the Raiders attacked them, but he’d never overtly defied Jack either. He never joined the Crimson Raiders himself. He never even left Elpis, even after seeing all of the things that Jack had done.
A small part of him still considered Jack a friend. Wasn’t that just the worst of it?
But this? Keeping a secret? Hiding away Jack abused daughter? That he could do.
“You’re not what I expected.”
“Not really the bloodthirsty tyrant type, huh?” It wasn’t a question.
“You’re not,” Angel answered honestly, without accusation or forgiveness. “I expected that from his doubles, saw it in some of the ones I met,” Angel paused, brows furrowing again, “watched,” she corrected. “They all wanted to be just like him. Such assholes.”
Timothy couldn’t help but agree. He tended to stay away from the other body doubles unless Jack specifically ordered him to work with one or two, which, in itself, had become rare over the years. People either adored Jack or hated him, there didn’t tend to be a middle ground. The body doubles sat decidedly in the former category, looking for their chance to get close to the Hyperion CEO, to bask in his presence. All of it was much too fanatical for Timothy’s taste; not many did it for the money like he had.
At least he used his degree sometimes?
“I had the Vault Hunters kill one of them. In Opportunity.” Angel said it as no more than an off-hand comment. So that is how they managed to get into the Control Core; they’d stolen his voice modulator. “Could have been you,” she continued, voicing the thoughts that Timothy had had only days ago while in the Control Core himself.
“Could have been,” he replied, infinitely glad when his voice didn’t crack.
“I suppose I should be grateful it wasn’t you,” she plowed on abruptly not giving Timothy a chance to answer, “I wish you’d just let me die.”
“I’ve never been to Opportunity.” It was a dumb thing to say. It was the only thing he could think to say. Blessedly, Angel faced away from him, eyes closed, lashes fanning out over her cheeks. She looked small in Nina’s hospital bed; it wasn’t the first time in the last few days that Timothy had thought it, but it was the first time he’d noticed it so starkly.
A long breath came from Angel, a release of tension. “Me neither.” Quiet stretched between them. With her eyes closed, Timothy wondered if she’d fallen asleep. He adjusted his phaser absently. “Do you think you would have lived? If I’d sent the Vault Hunters after you?”
“I don’t know,” Timothy whispered in reply.
Angel didn’t speak to him for two more days. That being said, Timothy didn’t spend nearly as much time in her room now that she was awake on the regular. He stopped by Nina’s rather frequently, between jobs and whenever he had spots of free time; when he wasn’t hiding out with Springs at her workshop, that was. The few times he did stop in, Angel was either asleep or didn’t speak to him. Instead her gaze would remain fixed up at the ceiling, unmoving. The first time it’d happened he’d had to check in with Nina who’d assured him that she was healing just fine. Timothy, for the first time in a long time, had doubted Nina’s judgement.
At the end of the second day, Timothy stopped in make sure Nina didn’t have anything she needed him to do before he took off out of Concordia for the night. He dropped by Angel’s room, feeling the need to be thorough; the moment he stepped into the doorway, Angel turned to look at him, sitting up, blue eyes sharp and determined. It startled Timothy out of the casual lean he’d been going for in the doorway, causing him to instead to straighten up with a stumble, arms feeling awkwardly long at his sides.
“I want to go to Pandora and work with the Crimson Raiders.” No preamble, just a solid order of intent.
“Okay.”
Angel seemed more surprised than Timothy did by his answer. In actuality, Timothy had sort of been expecting it. A part of him wanted to keep Angel on Elpis where he knew she’d be safe - at least for now - but he knew that was a selfish piece of him that wanted to use looking after Angel as an excuse to absolve himself for everything he hadn’t been doing. The other part of him had known that Angel would eventually want to head for Sanctuary. How could she not after everything Jack had done to her?
“Tomorrow.” Now she was just pushing her luck.
Timothy pursed his lips. “At the end of the week, if ,” he emphasized, holding up a hand, “ if Nina agrees you’re good enough to travel.”
Angel’s head tilted to the side. “Your voice reminds me of him more than your looks do.”
Faltering, Timothy returned back to his slouch, feeling his shoulders pull in. He watched the way Angel swallowed, throat bobbing, eyes flitting away from him. Nervousness. “Sorry.”
“Not entirely your fault. You’re better at being him than I thought.” Her fingers moved minutely under the sheets, eventually settling in a clench over her stomach. “Scared me a few times when I heard you talking with Nurse Nina,” she admitted quietly.
Feeling his body crumple in more with that information, he barked out a quick, “I’m going to talk to Nina about when you can leave.”
“What are you doing?”
Timothy looked up, eyes wide, to see Angel finally out of bed. Frankly, she looked healthier than Timothy had ever seen her, skin still lightly flushed from the shower she’d taken earlier. She’d digistructed herself a new outfit, something practical, simple, something that would let her go unnoticed both on Elpis and Pandora. “Just trying to reconnect to Sanctuary’s ECHOnet,” he answered honestly, offhandedly flapping his personal ECHO in his hand; he was rather frustrated with the thing.
A slight smile quirked Angel’s lips. “You were the one honing in on their network. I wondered.” She reached out and snatched the ECHO from his hand, ignoring his indignant yell. She flopped down in another chair in Nina’s lobby, making it look more intentional than Timothy suspected it was. She grimaced unhappily when she landed, smoothing a hand down her thigh as if rubbing out a pain. “I saw someone attached to their network occasionally, but nothing seemed out of place. I thought it was some moon-farmer looking for a radio station.”
“Just me,” Timothy answered, sheepishly. “I’m usually pretty good with the hacking stuff, but I haven’t been able to reconnect since -” and Timothy cut himself off, remembering just what had been happening when he’d disconnected from the net.
“The BNK3R jams the ECHOnet. Safety feature. If you were connected directly with the signal being broadcast by the Vault Hunters, it likely kicked you out and now you just need the right authorizations to get back in. I’m pretty good at this sort of thing.” Angel slumped down in her chair, legs spread out straight in front of her. Her eyes remained fixed on the ECHO, but Timothy’s were drawn to the spiraling tattoos along her side. The tattoos that had begun to glow with a purple sheen, bright enough to have seen by if the lights were out. It reminded Timothy starkly of the purpled ice sheets in Vorago Solitude, a dangerous and curving trail.
He hadn’t seen a siren at work since Lilith had burned the vault symbol into Jack’s face.
It only lasted a few seconds before the glowing stopped, and Angel slumped down even further into her chair, panting. Timothy darted over, kneeling beside her chair and tugging the ECHO out of her hands. Sweat shown in a sheen along her skin, but she smiled at him, head lolling slightly to his side, chest heaving with the force of her breaths. “Nina said it’d be good,” she said, pausing to catch her breath, “to use my powers to expel some of the excess eridium.”
Timothy only nodded, relieved that she appeared all right even if he didn’t really understand how the whole siren thing worked. She leaned her head back to rest against the wall, closing her eyes, pleased expression still on her face. “I’m not sure if you should be travelling yet,” Timothy admitted, feeling his face still creased in concern.
Angel’s eyes snapped back open, turning to him and forcing herself to sit up straight even though Timothy could see the pain in her eyes for doing so. “No, we’re going. I’m going.” She snapped her fingers, pointing at the ECHO. “I connected you. What’s happening? Are the Vault Hunters still alive?”
Timothy pulled up his HUD, surprised to find a mess of options that he didn’t even know what did. Angel reached forward to tap a few icons to bring up a secondary HUD. “Wha?”
“It’s Maya’s,” Angel answered without looking at him, eyes focused on the new HUD she’d conjured. “They’re heading to -” Angel’s finger followed along a trail on the HUD’s map before reaching a blinking waypoint, “the Arid Nexus? Fyrestone? No one’s out there anymore, not after Hyperion took it over.”
“The Info Stockade,” Timothy answered immediately. “They’re heading for the Info Stockade in Fyrestone. It’s heavily guarded, but they should be fine. It’ll be nothing compared to taking on the BNK3R.”
“Jack will be angry now though. He may double the security on all his installations.”
Timothy frowned. “I don’t think so. The Vault Hunters made it personal by coming after you.” He faltered, adding quickly, “Personal to him, by going after something of his,” after seeing the look on Angel’s face. “He’s likely still out of his mind with anger. He’s never been good about watching his back when he’s emotional.”
“Emotional,” Angel snapped with derision.
Focusing on the secondary HUD, Timothy swallowed down all the words he wanted to say. He wanted to tell Angel that her father had loved her, but frankly, he didn’t know if it was true, and it certainly wasn’t going to be comforting for her. Besides, it wasn’t his place to comment on their relationship; this was one time where he couldn’t pretend to be Jack. “Let’s get you ready for fast-travel, kiddo,” was what he said instead, standing and turning off the HUDs. “Looks like your Vault Hunters have it handled until you get there.” Timothy offered his arm to her, a silent offer of support.
Nodding, Angel took Timothy’s hand, letting him steady her. “What happens when we get there? Are you sticking around or just dropping me off?” Timothy froze, honestly unsure. He’d spent the last few days planning how to smuggle Angel through the fast-travel system without Jack noticing, how to keep her safe while also transporting her over the hostile planet, but he hadn’t planned on what he would do once they arrived. He wasn’t getting anywhere near Sanctuary looking like he did; he’d be lucky not to be shot outside the gates. Even if he did manage to hold off being killed long enough to talk to any of the Crimson Raiders they weren’t likely going to just let one of Jack’s personal confidants just waltz in without a fight. They’d probably just kill him then, out of spite.
He wouldn’t entirely blame them.
“I don’t know,” he answered her, honest.
Best case scenario meant he brought Angel to Sanctuary, and they let the two join up with their cause with little to no questions asked. But Timothy was tired of fighting. He liked his little piece of civilisation up on Elpis: bounding through the low gravity, sharing Sunday brunches with Springs and Athena, taking care of a scav that had grown just a bit too tyrannical. And, because despite everything, even the idea of betraying Jack still physically repulsed him.
“He’s an asshole,” Angel said, seeming to sense Timothy’s inner conflict.
“I know.”
“He’s killed a lot of people. Will keep killing them.”
Timothy gave her a tiny, helpless shrug. “So have I.” Taking a deep breath, and plastering on a patented Jack smile, he continued, “I guess we’ll just have to cross that bridge when we get there.” Timothy swallowed feeling his smile soften into something more natural, hopefully more comforting, but he felt the way the corners trembled with upset. The hand that wasn’t helping support Angel went up to slick back his hair. “Ready to go, kiddo?” Angel’s eyes remained on him, a bit distrusting - not that he could blame her - but he didn’t pull away. Instead her grip tightened on his arm.
“Take me to Sanctuary.”