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They say when you die your life flashes before your eyes. Tim doesn't know who "they" are, but he's always thought that was bullshit. He'd died more times than he can remember and had never seen any flashes. Even now, at the final death, as his gunship imploded, he hadn't expected to see anything. Just the empty nothingness he's seen trillions and trillions of times before. He figured his life had been too long to be condensed into flashes anyway. He was wrong.
The first flash was Bertie. Of course it was Bertie. They had been holding each other, terrified, their last night before being shipped off to war on the moon. Tim was sobbing into Bertie's chest. Bertie was holding him like he'd never let go.
Then Tim was on the moon, playing cards with none other than Jonny D'ville. Jonny was definitely cheating, but they were just playing to pass the time, so Tim didn't point it out. Bertie was watching and laughed every time Tim lost. He lost a lot. Bertie's laugh was the most beautiful thing Tim had ever heard, and towards the end, he started to lose on purpose just to hear it.
Bertie wasn't laughing anymore. Tim clutched at the wound in his chest as he bled out. He gave Tim one last parting "I love you" and then he was gone. Tim was gone too, out of his mind with grief and rage, killing anyone that dared to get in his way.
When Tim finally snapped out of his violent rage, he was kneeling in front of the Moon Kaiser, staring in shock at Jonny's decapitated head. Before he could even process what he was seeing, the head winked at him, and he realized that there was still hope.
When the explosion that blew up the moon and everyone on it burnt out his eyes, Tim had thought that was it. Everything was over. Except it wasn't. Because he opened his eyes again to find the woman he would later come to know as Dr. Carmilla looking at him, intrigued. She had smiled, and all at once a familiar face came into his field of vision and hugged him, sobbing. One of the only times that he had seen Jonny cry.
Tim cuddled with Jonny after a long talk. About the war, about Bertie, about death, about love. Tim buried his face in Jonny's chest, wishing he could cry as dry sobs wracked his body. Jonny was holding him like he'd never let go.
Then Tim was on stage, performing with the other mechanisms, on some small planet. They had just finished a song, and Tim made a joke. It was a stupid joke, something corny that made most of the crew groan. But Jonny laughed. Not his usual cackle, always exaggerated for dramatic effect, but a genuine laugh that took Tim by surprise. Tim would never remember what he said to make Jonny laugh like that, but he'd give anything to hear it again.
Jonny was laughing. Not his cackle, nor a genuine laugh. This laugh was vicious, excited, and relieved as the blood drained from his body and he knew that this was it. Then he saw Tim, standing in the doorway, and the laughter died on his lips. The patrons of the bar were a blur at the edge of Tim's vision as he stared at Jonny, burdened with the knowledge that this was the last time he'd see Jonny die. Tim choked out an "I love you," through the tears that wouldn't come to his eyes. Jonny opened his mouth to respond, but he was silent. As he watched the life drain out of his love, Tim could feel what came next, and he wished he could tear out his own heart, but he knew his end, and turned and left to bring it forth.
Violently back in the present, Tim grinned as the gorgeous explosion engulfed him, and he knew that this was it. Everything was over. And he was right.