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When the ECHOcall ended, Timothy felt empty.
There was nothing else to say. Though his head was usually storming with thoughts, this time it felt unusually quiet. Detached from his body, distant. He couldn’t even remember when he placed down his ECHO or how his cats meowed in distress as he walked slowly, without any sign of life. He couldn’t even remember going to his balcony and the shake of his hands as he gripped the edge.
What he could remember was the starry sky of the place he wanted to call home so badly. The still ringing voice of someone his heart beat for. And most importantly, his fear of heights. Now that was a thing Timothy could never truly let go of.
Terrified of making the wrong move and cracking down. The vastness of what laid below him. Timothy felt as if stepping on glass and any even slightly harder step would break it. What laid below it? Timothy wasn’t sure. He just knew he was terrified to fall down and learn about it.
Why did his face get so wet all of the sudden?
The words of Rhys’ echoed in his head. Calming and soft, ones spoken with such care and diligence. Nothing that Timothy truly had ever deserved. Especially not from Rhys.
Ever since he came here he wanted one thing and one thing only – to ease his mind, to find a place to call his own. But how could he truly do this, if for the last almost 10 years of his life he had been constantly running? Would he ever learn to slow down?
That didn’t even mention the fact that Timothy’s body was never his. It belonged to someone long dead and for a good cause. The world went forward without Handsome Jack – they didn’t need anything adjacent to him either.
Maybe the feeling that overwhelmed Timothy was not of emptiness but out of undeserving. He could recall days spent in the casino, murdering ones who looked like him. Sometimes out of necessity. Keyword sometimes. Timothy didn’t even want to think about the years playing the wrong person, just repeating his words. It wasn’t him, yet why did it feel addicting. The role he never wanted to play, yet willingly took. How could he ever repay for what he’s done.
So maybe it was selfish for him to come to Promethea with that one wish. Even if that one wish almost came true.
The man who he met, the one on the top of it all. Yet behind the shiny curtains he saw an innovator, someone who looked forward and loved like no one else Timothy had ever met. Rhys Strongfork. Words of his name overwhelming Timothy’s chest with an ache.
From the second they met, Rhys didn’t judge him. There was no disgust or contempt whenever he spoke to him, just simple understanding. Timothy didn’t know much, he just knew Rhys was also hurt by Jack years ago. And despite all of this, despite the world telling him ‘no’, Rhys still tried to make Timothy feel like on his own. That was why he just tried to calm his mind, when they just spoke. Rhys cared so much. He truly didn’t deserve this.
Would Timothy ever feel so selfish to find comfort when just his visage brought disgust? Or was he even ready to find love?
Oh, love. A foreign concept in Timothy’s head if there ever was one. Never for once stopping to give that other person a chance. They came and went or rather, he was the one to let go. Yet for some reason, he couldn’t let go of Rhys.
A selfish feeling indeed, Timothy scoffed as the tears rolled off his face. Rhys gave you everything and you want to take everything from him and leave? He was there for you when you needed him, do you really wanna use him for something you dare to call love?
But Timothy loved him. By everything he had, he loved Rhys more than anyone in this world. For his kindness, his hardworking self, for that smile and that laugh. For the hours they spent together. For the way he wanted to learn about him. For the peculiar taste of his, for the way he sang. For giving him the home he never deserved.
It was just that Timothy knew this story way too well. He would think about love or even attraction but then he would realize just one thing. Timothy Lawrence was never meant to be. There was a reason that his records were erased and destroyed. He was nothing and he will be nothing.
And Rhys? Rhys didn’t deserve to be just a short blimp in his life. But it would turn out like this, Timothy knew this. How much he ached to touch him, to kiss him, to tell him what he felt. It was just that Timothy knew what happened afterwards. Which was just simply nothing.
There was no future for Timothy and there would be none for someone he loved. The vastness of the things he had done and who he was were not to be underestimated. He would leave, knowing that Rhys, someone he loved, didn't deserve the price that was hanging on his head. There was no reason to even think that he would even wanna choose a man akin to the monster that was slayed.
And the people who saw the monster in him too. Constantly saying something underneath his breath, acting as if he was there to fill the void. That he was an echo not a person and that Rhys getting close was just that. Sometimes Timothy felt as if all he had was just the echo of himself.
Timothy looked at the stars again, gripping harder to the edge. He didn’t deserve them shining for him. He didn’t deserve the beauty that overwhelmed him. He didn’t deserve Rhys’ love. There was no reason he would ever love someone who barely even got his name.
Maybe the thing that cracked the most was Timothy’s broken heart?
Though in his wildest dreams… He makes it. They make it together. Timothy in the mirror and sees only himself. He knows others would see him too. Rhys holds his hand and kisses his face. Calls him by his name not the distortion he had heard in his nightmares. For a second he’s happy.
Then Timothy opens his eyes. There were only cracks on the floor.
When the ECHOcall ended, Rhys felt aching.
There were no better words to describe it – just an ache he felt that spread all across his chest. The tears started to prickle his own eyes but Rhys couldn’t pinpoint the moment when they started. The size of his painfully lonely big house started to dawn on him, as he laid in his bed.
Wasn’t that the perfect description of everything he had built for himself. A remedy for the actions unspoken by him in a form of those shallow luxuries. He never deserved them, he knew this. Rhys just didn’t want to feel this way anymore.
But at the moment, when his back pressed against his mattress and his eyes fixated on the ceiling he never felt more alone in his life.
Not when the Helios crashed. Not when the AI let out the last pathetic wail. Not when all of his so-called friends turned on him. Not when he had arrived at Promethea. It was then. When he thought he had it all, he knew he didn’t deserve a single thing.
Everyone saw someone in Rhys. To Hyperion, he was just an asset. To his ex-friends he was just a means to an end. To Handsome Jack he was both of these things and an alleged successor. To Helios citizens he was a murderer. To those who survived, he was the savior. Then to Prometheans he became the hero.
Rhys himself started to doubt who he really was.
It was easy to lose himself in the roles others wanted to give him, he did that since he could remember. All because he wanted to give back to people. To be a good friend, to be someone to trust, to mend the things he had broken. Maybe deep down, Rhys just wanted not to be a villain. Maybe that was selfish of him.
Then came a person in his life. A man without the hand, yet with a smile he would never forget. Though unsure at first, Rhys quickly learnt that underneath all of this was a man of the adamancy, the humor and the true survivor. Timothy Lawrence. Rhys had never felt love come to him with such ease.
And that was what broke his heart the most. The love he felt for Timothy that he himself knew, he should never reciprocate. The feelings overwhelmed his heart, so much so Rhys had to calm it down right there and then. There was no point to give it a chance when he knew Timothy deserved leagues better than what he offered.
For who was Rhys than just the last shout of Handsome Jack?
He wanted to run away from the legacy but every step he took felt like quicksand letting him give it. All Rhys ever wanted was the corporation of his own. But the corporation came with the set of the things he had to sacrifice, who he had to become.
Sometimes he still heard Handsome Jack’s voice. Telling him he’s worthless, he’s pathetic, he killed so many people. He’s nothing but an heir, he will never be himself. Maybe that was why Rhys wanted to escape his legacy so much. Run away from his words, run away from anything like him.
Timothy was nothing like Handsome Jack. Rhys was convinced, he never was anything like him.
The sweet man with the wonderful smile, who loved life more than anyone he had ever met. Who tried every day to make it his own, to be his own person. He was so strong but there was an undeniable softness to him. Always spoke his mind, always approached things with his own bravado. He had a story to tell and Rhys would listen to every word of it. If it was ever meant to be.
Rhys couldn’t believe the last time he had felt love. The feelings that the various hookups gave him was of brief satisfaction. Though he suspected none of them ever saw the true Rhys behind the mask of the shiny CEO.
He was just a mask. But Timothy took it off and saw his real face.
Cause it was so easy to be himself in front of Timothy. With his open heart and understanding. Their pasts came into the present but what they had here and now it would always be intertwined. It was easy to shed away the pain from yesterday and smile whenever he was around. Hell. It might've been too easy.
Did Timothy really deserve this? Just another corporate jerk, coming back to his life just because he wanted? No, he deserved a new life, away from everything that was prewritten for him.
Reaching onto his chest, Rhys felt it beat harder. The tears started to stain his pillows but he couldn’t bring himself to care. His life was of one who could replace them whenever he wanted. It didn’t matter. None of this was supposed to be real.
There was so much he had done in the past. When his eyes closed, Rhys still saw the fires overwhelming the buildings of Hyperion he used to know. He saw corpses of people he passed by. He wasn’t a hero. He only pretended to be one, just to atone for what he had done.
He didn’t deserve Timothy in his life. Someone who suffered because of people like Rhys. For who was Rhys than just an extension of Handsome Jack in the present? No matter how much he tried, no matter how much he gave to others, Rhys knew the truth. He was the one to blame.
Hence he wanted to give Timothy everything – the new life, the hand and just one word and he would give him his heart. Yet, it didn’t feel right to use him like this. As if the past was speaking through him, demanding to take what was worth it. Even saying those words to Timothy he felt guilty. Love for him was so true, all he wanted was to make his life better. And if that included Rhys not being there, so be it.
Maybe there was something Rhys had learnt from the past. Once a greedy man, wanting to take everything he wanted, often for granted. Now all he wanted was for Timothy to be happy. To be safe. To be loved by someone who deserved love from someone that wonderful.
Then Rhys remembered his sobs through the ECHO. He knew that this exact someone wasn’t him.