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day 4 - after execution
[ It's not hard for Jack to guess where Rhys ran away to. Granted, there weren't exactly many places to look, but he thinks he knows the guy well enough to make a beeline for the tech lab. After all, it's where he himself would go. There's comfort in the technology, in work, and so that solitude is much preferable to having to be around people. He's pretty sure he gets that.
However, Rhys isn't so lucky as to be alone. ]
Hey, asshole!
[ Wow, that sure is familiar, and it's just as full of emotion as hen Rhys had said it. Jack closes the door behind him, and when he walks over to Rhys, it's clear from every tense muscle in his body that he's upset and angry. ]
Yeah, figured you'd friggin' be here. Because you know what? I'm two for two now. [ That's a bit ominous, but Jack stops in front of Rhys and crosses his arms tightly as if he's trying to stop himself from doing something. ] We. Need. To. Talk.
However, Rhys isn't so lucky as to be alone. ]
Hey, asshole!
[ Wow, that sure is familiar, and it's just as full of emotion as hen Rhys had said it. Jack closes the door behind him, and when he walks over to Rhys, it's clear from every tense muscle in his body that he's upset and angry. ]
Yeah, figured you'd friggin' be here. Because you know what? I'm two for two now. [ That's a bit ominous, but Jack stops in front of Rhys and crosses his arms tightly as if he's trying to stop himself from doing something. ] We. Need. To. Talk.
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just the other night, he sat here with luke and took apart the ankle monitor. talked about how everything was going to be okay and they totally had a plan. they had this, you know? they had this. what a fucking lie that was.
he sits at a table then, on one of the stools, stiller than jack's probably ever seen him. his hands are braced against his knees and his hair hangs limp over his face as he stares down at the floor and he's, well. he's crying. silent tears sliding down his face and expression blank as he tries to deal with the messed up slosh of emotions inside of him.
this was his plan. kill the girl no one knows, create a pattern then break it. craft an image. so, he killed her. stabbed her with the knife and felt sick to his stomach as he watched her die on the floor. this wasn't what he wanted. she was just a kid but it had to be done. it had to be done. then the trial and the back forth of arguing that it would be stupid for them to kill him because he knows tech but -- but then if he survives, someone else dies. the building anticipation in his gut as he realizes that. his life comes with way more death. that's the exchange there.
as the votes trickled in, he idly hoped they'd choose him.
they didn't.
what they chose was much, much worse and he feels a shivering sort of shock hit his system. he feels bone chillingly cold though he knows it's all in his head and despite everything -- hyperion, pandora, atlas -- he doesn't think he can handle this. he's not as ruthless as he sometimes wishes he was. he really, really isn't. he can think it sure, create plans that get people killed without a second thought and not even care in the long term. good plans, solid plans with huge pay off. that mining deal was one of them. this was another.
but this hands on action? this fingers in the mud -- or blood, as it were -- he's not sure he can do this. he thinks it's going to kill him.
so, he doesn't look up when jack comes to him, rightfully angry. instead, he continues sitting there and in a quiet, hoarse voice, he'll reply. ]
Yeah, okay. Let's talk.
no subject
As soon as the potential use for those monitors was pointed out, Jack had more than an inkling that it was Rhys that was taking them. Who else would? It was obvious to Jack that it's what you'd try to do. It's what he would do, and though Rhys is barely an acquaintance, he knows him well enough, if only through the context of "ex-Hyperion." It was probably the most Hyperion thing you could do to kill a little girl just to take that ankle monitor. Jack knows that, and he knows, deep down, that he would probably do the same in the right circumstances. It's a part of himself he hates, but it's that part of him that's become so wrapped up in Rhys.
It was one thing to hear about the future things you would do and the atrocities that you would commit, but it was another to fight against that. Because that's the worst part. For each piece, Jack can imagine some part of himself that might lead to that conclusion, and he desperately wants to avoid becoming that man that Rhys had feared so much that he'd casually told him that Jack would be the one to end his life.
So Jack had to defend him. If Rhys died, then was that blood on his hands? Did that mean he would become that person? A part of him knew it was stupid to think so, but he was driven so much more by a desperate, irrational fear to avoid it. So even when Jack knew that Rhys probably was one of those staff members, he made excuses. He misled people. He distracted people, even when Rhys got so anxious under questioning that he cracked and vomited. And, man. It'd felt good to dig his feel right into his face, since for Jack, that felt like a prelude to this very conversation, in a way.
Before, he'd thought about leading into it more delicately, but with Rhys's state, he doesn't bother. Jack's face is cold, but not quite angry by the time he's wandered close enough to set his hands on the table in front of Rhys. ]
You're one of them. You're working for... whatever this place is.
[ Jack still isn't sure of what that is, because he certainly doesn't believe the story that they've been given. He shakes his head and takes a step closer to Rhys, but then also sidesteps quickly. Rhys might understand what that odd gesture was, because it started off with that sort of intensity where he's really wanting to take out his anger on other people, but this Jack is still holding that back. That energy instead turns into pacing. ]
Awesome. Figured I could handle it, could handle you, because yeah, sure, some stalker, they love me, so they're not gonna screw me!
[ He's half rambling, but it's solely to himself. He growls out another noise of frustration, then reaches up to run both of his hands through his hair here. He's thinking, because even if he's confronting Rhys with this now, that's not a plan. He has to be two steps ahead now, because Jack may be trusting, but he's no fool. He'd been intentionally painting a target on his back because of how he loved his narrative of heroism, but that narrative was beginning to shift. ]
So, you gonna say anything? You- God, give me one good reason I shouldn't go tell every goddamn person that you're one of those assholes too!
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there wasn't.
why didn't anyone vote for him? one meager little vote would've made him feel better. then it says yeah, he wasn't making this up, he wasn't going crazy. he didn't just get away with cold-blooded murder of a fourteen year old just because... he had to. he had to, right? didn't he?
his eyes flicker upwards to jack's finally, watching the coldness on his face and feeling an odd comfort for it. maybe this it, maybe jack will finally kill him and he can just... be done with all of this. done with surviving. he's so fucking sick of surviving. ]
'Cause Elizabeth was right, there's clauses.
[ he lifts a shoulder in a shrug and turns to the table, lying his hands flat on it for a moment before slumping, one hand going into his hair while he rests his head in the crook of his elbow. he sighs and looks off to the side. ]
Can't leave unless there's five of us left. But now there's four staff members left? I don't -- I don't know what this means. Does this mean one of you come with? Is it the number or the -- or the people. Does it have to be a staff member? I don't know.
[ he shakes his head, other arm going to the table so he can pillow his arms and stare down at the darkness of the work bench. his face grows hot with the steam of his breath but he doesn't pull away, just lets his face grow crusty with dried tear tracks. ]
I didn't want to -- didn't wanna kill her, Jack. Not good at it. Just stabbed her and ran away, honestly. Now, Luke's dead because no one voted for me? I don't fucking know why. I wish they did, I can't believe they let me live. It was so flimsy and selfish and Fiona would never have let me go this far.
[ a groan and he just thumps his head against his arm a few times, feeling a fresh wave of tears hit him as he thinks of fiona and her constant ability to reel him back in. but, just like everyone else, she abandoned him too and now -- now he was alone. he was so god damn alone. ]
no subject
Well, that was the problem, wasn't it? He knew exactly what he would do, because it's the same feeling as what he's experiencing now. Rage is running through his veins hotly, and only violence can ever get this feeling to dull. He's fighting against that as he always has, but bit by bit, that resolve is cracking. Even though Rhys probably isn't looking at him, the anger in Jack's expression probably makes that clear. It was stupid, but he'd trusted Rhys, at least in a sense. He trusted him to act in a particular way, that if he was a staff member, he would have surely confessed that to Jack from the start. Luckily, that pang of betrayal isn't very sharp. ]
Five? Wait, wait, wait—
[ As Rhys half-heartedly explains, Jack's attention focuses instead. He'd been thinking of how to best handle this situation. Should he kill Rhys, or should he just turn him over? But as Rhys starts to explain those terms, those thoughts are quickly gone.
Right, he can't kill him or let him be killed. It wasn't even for some moral reason, some fear of what he wouldn't even become. Those words remind him of the fact that Rhys has something Jack doesn't: information. ]
No, no, c'mon, don't start with that— [ His words start out soft as Rhys starts to sink into his misery here, but he quickly grows frustrated as he continues. Frankly, he realizes that in the face of information about where they are and how to leave, Jack realizes he doesn't give a damn about Rayfa or Lara or Luke. His voice comes out harder and more insistent after that. ]
Rhys. Focus. Five of us? So, what, five people can leave, that's what you're saying?
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now luke was dead. he feels like he killed the guy himself.
when jack starts asking him questions, he lifts his head up to look at him before sitting up with a sigh. a hand cards through his hair as he tries to explain -- maybe if he explained he'd feel better, it would have the same clear logic like it did the other night, before he actually had to commit. ]
Five, I think. Five staff members or five people, I don't know which. There -- there isn't five staff anymore though, so it has to be five people, right? Our chances can't just be... gone now. Not like this. Judy would've, she would've said. I think. She had to have said something.
[ and that's not to mention the experiment which rhys wants to say more about but -- but he's not allowed and honestly? he doesn't care about the experiment. he cares about himself, figuring out a good way out of this with jack. jack preserved as he is now, not like he becomes. if rhys could just have that, then he doesn't care about the rest. the deaths, the moon, whatever. he just wants... jack. just jack.
he lifts a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose before sliding off the stool and heading towards the stairs to reach the second level of the tech lab. he doesn't really care if jack follows him or not. ]
The wording was... I don't know, it was messed up. There was us and -- well, five of us. The five of us but without Luke, are we gonna be able to leave? We have to be able to leave without him. God damnit.
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This is what Zarpedon had seen in a lowly Hyperion programmer enough to try and stop him. The way Jack thinks is dangerous, but it's much more dangerous how easy it is to forget that in the face of his charisma. ]
Just five...
[ He murmurs that lowly as Rhys stands, and his angry expression at least shifts in recognition as the full meaning of that dawns on him. It was so few, and even if that was obvious, that realization of how many people have to die for that number takes a moment to sink in. There are people here that Jack likes, even trusts, and they—
His thought is interrupted as Rhys starts to move to the stairs, since Jack follows quickly. There's still an energy in his steps that's all tension, but it doesn't seem like anger anymore. ]
That sounds like something that needs clarification, Rhys. I mean- What, you didn't ask? That sounds like a term you should really get some clarity on before you decide to just off people for-- [ He makes a noise of frustration, but he'll stop at the top of the stairs once they're there. ]
It can't only be five. There are-- There's no way you're seriously just going to kill twenty-five innocent people just for... [ His expression twists up, though the twisting of that pulls at his face in such a way that it tugs at that new wound on his face. He spits out half a curse and reaches up to it reflexively. ]
There's gotta be another way. This is completely bullshit, you realize that, right?
no subject
it's rhys' failing that he's not quite aware how dangerous getting jack to think like this is and even if he is aware, he's started to delude himself into believing, it's him and jack again. isn't it him and jack again? he's the one with the information here, even if jack's physical this time -- jack needs him and rhys won't make the mistake of giving up that need again. jack needs to stay with rhys and if rhys has to lie to make sure jack does, well... he'll have to live with that.
he feels an urge to touch jack again but he doesn't think jack would react well to it right now. probably worse than the shove the other night. rhys sighs and gives a shake of his head, arms crossing over his chest to keep from reaching out. ]
Killing people is part of the job, it's part of the... duties or whatever. We're not killing them to leave, but we can't leave unless everyone's gone. It's all in the contracts, Jack. Remember the ones Judy said we signed? She said it'll take two weeks to get them here so we can read them ourselves but it's in there.
[ he runs a hand through his hair then, wondering if that's enough to get jack off his back for a moment because it's not like he can explain the experiment. of course not, that would be bad for him and even if he wants jack to stay, he can't sacrifice jack for himself.
... can he?
no, no, no. not this jack, this jack is good, a real hero. it's not like killing the AI because... because that AI was broken, of course. this is the real jack. the right jack. his eyes flick up to jack's face for a moment, lingering on the new wound before turning around to go down about halfway through the level. he'll move to a wall after, a clean section that looks pretty undisturbed and push up the sleeve of his robot arm then, fingers curling in a slight groove to open it up.
when he's got the arm open, he'll pull out the scalpel resting in the slight space he's given it in his arm before closing it again. he'll crouch towards the floor then, tucking the scalpel in a slight space between the floor and a panel in the wall. he'll drag it along for a bit, wiggling until with a slight pop, the panel falls open and reveals a hole in the wall. it's a small crawlspace that can fit someone of rhys' size, and probably jack's too. it's dark though but rhys gestures for jack to go first anyway. ]
Go in. There's enough space for both of us and it's private. You're the only one who knows about it -- well, Luke did but he's dead now.
[ on the other side will be a small space in the walls, big enough for the both of them to probably stand and sit comfortable and has an odd collection of stuff organized neatly in one of the corners. if jack goes in first, rhys will follow to close the wall behind them, robot hand lighting up like a flashlight to give them the ability to see. ]
no subject
He watches Rhys pop out the panel with intensity in his expression like he's truly taking in every detail of what he's seeing before him. When Jack's truly thinking, nothing escapes his attention or notice. Call it his perfectionism. But of course, the intensity does at least have a slight hiccup with how Rhys explains. ]
...You're joking.
[ The wound-up tension fades almost immediately as Jack looks between the hole in the wall and then to Rhys. It's not surprise that he has a quip for this, but it's at least not a joke for the sake of a joke. ]
I'm flattered, but crawling into dark holes with other dudes? Especially after you offered to suck my dick? C'mon. Have some subtlety.
[ Okay, maybe it's a little of a joke for the sake of a joke, but it's rooted in a much more serious concern. At least it's Jack that closes the distance, and he reaches out to place a hand on Rhys's shoulder. He's very, very aware of that scalpel in Rhys's hand, since after all, the image of Luke's death is still fresh in mind. So to him, this in itself is giving Rhys more than a little trust. He gives Rhys's shoulder a little squeeze as if to cement that. ]
Look. You just told me you're one of the staff members, uh, out to kill us. And, now, I'll admit? You've got my attention with the whole "five people" thing. That's—
[ Jack pauses and exhales heavily, because he knows what his decision is going to be, but he wants it to be different. He wants an easier answer than this, because even as he thinks about explaining... He thinks about the people he likes here. This admission may not kill them, but it'll mean that every person that dies from this point forward will leave their blood partially on Jack's hands too.
But they're not as important as a moon.
That decision had already been made, and that's what Jack dislikes. When he thinks about the weight of thirty lives against- Okay, however many people live on Elpis. He doesn't have a clue. But it's definitely way more than thirty, and that's the problem. It's a ruthless calculus, and that is what being a hero means. He'd held ideals for himself, but he knew those ideals were also fairytales. Now comes the real weight of heroism, and he can only hope that he's a good enough man to carry them without falling to what Rhys has foretold of his future. ]
...That's why I'm not going to tell anyone. If, and I do mean "if" here- [ He draws his hand away to jerk his thumb at the wall ] If you give me some kind of assurance that I'm not gonna end up dead in that wall, Rhys. You've admitted all this to me, so- So how do I know you're not about to clean up shop?
[ He looks to the scalpel in Rhys's hand, then holds out his own hand expectantly. ]
Give me the scalpel.
no subject
standing here though, with jack really suspicious of rhys killing him, asking him for the scalpel and treating him like some sort of -- some sort of threat, the bubble finally bursts. when he speaks, it's soft, surprised, face colored in shock and hurt. ]
Oh.
[ he blinks a few times and isn't that a kick in the pants to an awful day like this? he just wanted to do the right thing. or, well, whatever his kind of right thing was. he wanted to follow the rules, really, and the rules were to kill the girl and survive the trial and all he wanted to do was protect jack but jack doesn't think that's true.
he swallows, feeling that hollowness creep up again as he puts the scalpel in jack's hand and crosses his arms over his chest with a sigh. ]
You really think I'd kill you, huh? You.
[ he takes a step back to get jack's hand off of him, hand running through his hair again as his eyes flick down to the second level. they're alone right now but rhys can't guarantee that and his fingers itch to close up the hole. he lets out a weary laugh then and closes his eyes for a moment.
when he opens his eyes again, he looks at jack and it's with less of the hero worship from the other night and more of a just... heavy exhaustion. ]
Fuck. I don't know if I love you or hate you sometimes, Jack. You make it really hard to do the first one though, holy shit. [ he pauses and then explains a bit more. ] I've made it clear that you're off-limits since like, day one. They can't kill you, Jack. If they kill you, they'd have to kill me first. I won't allow it otherwise.
[ which then comes the problem of five here and he looks away, a bit frustrated. ]
I was trying to figure it out, see if I could bargain somehow to make sure you survive too regardless. That's why I've been doing so much preparation with the -- with the feet and this spot and everything. I just need to make sure you are okay because I'm not -- I'm not gonna get a second chance at this? At you and -- and us. I wasn't supposed to and then you ended up here, like this -- [ sane. saner. ] And what was I supposed to do? I'm making up for lost time here.
[ a rueful head shake and he looks off to where he and luke sat the other night. damn. that conversation and jack -- jack still thinks he's not on his side. ]
The other night Luke and I talked about Adam and you. We were trying to figure out what to do, nothing in too much detail since we thought we had more time but -- but we were. Willing. To take a risk.
[ back to jack now and it's pretty obvious what he means. he and luke were willing to kill off two other staff members to get adam and jack a spot in the five, if it was numbers. he really hoped it'd be numbers. ]
But if you're going to keep doubting me? God, Jack. Do you know how insulting that is? After all the stuff I've done for you here? I don't care about the rest of it, the murders, the staff, the Complex, whatever. I don't care. All I care about is you.
[ and you think that would be it but. there's one more thing rhys has to do and with a very frustrated noise, he steps closer again to shove jack in the chest pretty dang hard. afterwards, he jabs a finger at him. ]
But you're also a fucking asshole and if you're not going to trust me, you can fuck off now and we can part ways right here, jackass. Your choice.
no subject
It's that idea that gets Jack's gaze to eventually break from Rhys's as he rubs at the back of his neck. Because with how Rhys explains it here, he's reminded again that Rhys claims that's not the reason. It's always claims for Jack, because it's a hell of an easy thing to lie about, and he's met some skilled liars in his day. But there was always a limit to it, too. He wasn't perfect at it (actually, he was pretty bad at seeing it), but he knew enough of the signs of someone just looking to suck up or find dirt to bring you down. There were lines they wouldn't cross, and this? This feels like one of them, and that's what has Jack responding slightly awkwardly as if he's being scolded.
Because in a way, Rhys being an asshole out to get him or an obsessed stalker was easier. Those were things Jack could easily categorize or dismiss, but love? Love to the point that Rhys had bargained for him? Had tried to plot against his own little group so that he might be one of the survivors? That was the line that a selfish bastard wouldn't cross. It was always self-preservation first, climbing a ladder second. If what he says was true, then Rhys really was putting his own life on the line for Jack's sake. That's strange to him. The only people who had ever done that for him, well. He'd paid them to do so. Body doubles, Vault Hunters, mercs, it was always just money for security. Having someone provide it without that was... something. He's not sure how to interpret what he feels when Rhys explains this.
It's nice, in a way, but nice isn't really just it. There's that same thrill of power, and he knows it, because someone this devoted to him, that was useful. Obviously. That was giving him a way out where a path may have not existed before. He'd spoken with others about possibilities and things he could engineer to try and figure a way out of here, because if there was anyone that could do it, it was him. He had that kind of confidence in his abilities to say that and truly believe it.
He looks back to Rhys, and his brow knits together briefly as he's shoved back, and it's clear he's considering something, though what that is wouldn't be clear. There's a choice here. He can choose a path of justice, and he can work by his own means to discover the way. Or he could choose the path that's already been carved out, if only for a select few.
Jack looks at the scalpel in his hand, then tosses it down to the first level. He rolls his shoulders with a tired groan, but steps towards the wall. For all his talking, he's never quite as good expressing his feelings through words so much as through his gestures. He doesn't need the scalpel, and he doesn't need Rhys to go first like he would have insisted on a moment ago.
Both paths have risks. Both have the potential for someone to betray him. But he'll take the one where someone's made an effort to prove that they can be trusted. ]
Don't forget to grab that when we leave. Or whatever. Can't believe I'm friggin doin' this...
[ His muttering trails off into nearly unintelligible murmurs, but he shifts all the same to go inside Rhys's cubbyhole. Because I am not saying Jack is going inside Rhys's hole but that is the sentence I was referring to and the terrible struggle of phrasing I just faced. I hate you.
Phrasing aside, while his back is turned to Rhys, he does at least offer something more positive in response. His words are confident this time, but also earnest. It's clear from how he speaks that he's being genuine. ]
Look- It's nothing personal. I'm an asshole, Hyperion screw you up, whatever. But-- Uh, thanks. For... trying to help me out. That's why I'm trusting you, Rhys.