The pain, which was gnawing Wilhelm, woke him up from his troubled sleep. It was as if a pack of skags was devouring him alive. Yet, opening one eye, he noticed the lack of beasts around his body that was aching all over. He could feel the sheets of a bed under the fingers of his right hand and a soft pillow behind his head. His eyesight was maybe still a little blurry, but he could deduct that he was in a bedroom.
Strange noises to his left drew his attention. He recognized the sound of boiling liquids, the tinkling of an object that scrapes against metal... Wilhelm painfully turned his head towards the noises and perceived a silhouette, which seemed busy, in front of a small kitchen. The word 'studio' seemed more applicable then anything to the size of the room. What was he doing in that person's home? Who was this person, anyway? And, above all, why was he not… dead?

"Oh! You woke up. Hope I didn't make too much noise." Said the stranger, without even turning toward him.

"Who are you? And what am I doing there?!" growled Wilhelm, ignoring the hospitality of his host, taking a strange notice that his voice sounded much more human.

"I forgot how warm you were…" the host continued

"ANSWER!"

"Okay, listen, sweetie, I doubt that you are able, right now, to threaten me." Said the stranger finally turning towards him, fists on his hips, like a mother scolding her child. Wilhelm took the advantage to examine this person. He could see it was a man, rather tall ‒ but shorter than him ‒ with red hair, a lock of which was falling on the side of an one-eyed mask. This mask, made with iron, was decorated with a painting of a white skull, making this character a little more impressive. Nothing the Hyperion man could recognize. Then, he thought two seconds about what the man just told him. He looked down towards his body and started to panic a little.

The masked man got back to his saucepan and sighed. "They should never have had to mutilate you so much, I'm sorry. They thought that… by removing all the prosthetics they thought you would be less dangerous… and that's the case…"

"Who are 'them'?! And what the fuck am I doing there?! I should be-"

"Dead? So you'd actually let yourself die for that piece of shit?! "

" Jack? Yeah! And what?! What can you understand about that, huh?!"

Wilhelm was growing impatient. Then the mask turned once more towards him and this time, they replied plaintively and edgy. "I, what I understand, is that you threw yourself in the lion's den! All of this shit for your fucking money and your fucking robotic shit! You were already an asshole, but you became even worse with Jack! You became his toy, serving at his beck without even wondering what you were doing! You became worse than a machine! Can you realize that, Wilhelm?! You gave him your life! You sacrificed yourself only to fool the vault hunters! You were a freaking pawn in his shitty game!" He leaned against the work surface near the stove, catching his breath, and then he continued, more calmly, with a hint of sadness in his voice. "You should have died, yes, but I decided otherwise… I managed to convince the vault hunters to let you alive. They brought you to Zed, half dead. He quickly healed you, gave you an antidote against the poison which was gradually weakening you and then, they brought you here."

Wilhelm remained silent. Yes, He would have done everything for Jack. It was thanks to Jack he could become what he dreamed to be and do what he wanted to do. However, was death supposed to be the price for his dream? He was not sure about that anymore. Although now, stripped of his prosthetics, he had only one desire: to disappear.

"Knowing that you had accepted to die for him…" continued the stranger "it makes me… no, I couldn't let you do that, I couldn't accept your death. Not like that."

The cyborg - or rather ex-cyborg - focused again on the mask. Who, the hell, was this person? Did he know him? How did he know that he was going to let himself die to make the vault hunter fall into the trap of Jack? Even more, why did he want to keep him alive? Pandorians were more the kind of people who wanted to see him dead. He saw him pouring the contents of the saucepan into a bowl and approaching the bed with it.

"You got weakened a lot so… I cooked something easy to eat. I know you don't really like stock but there is meat in it !" said the stranger with a nervous laugh. He sat on the edge of the bed, on left side of the Hyperion man, the bowl between his legs. "If… If you want help, ahum… I can…"

Wilhelm did not let him finish what he was saying. It was obvious, this person knew him. His left arm, being shortened above his elbow, he had to lean aside for being able to close the fingers of his right hand on the mask edge. He lifted it gently and saw that the other showed no sign of protest. He took it off.

"Jack?!" he exclaimed on a really surprised ton. Obviously, he was not the Handsome Jack himself, but his double. The one who had accompanied them on Elpis, some years ago. The one who was always screaming, scared by heights and bandits. The one that Wilhelm had protected and even trained. It was definitely the same face, disfigured by their boss after his accident on Eleseer, on the pretext that, as a double, he had to be his perfect copy. Yet, the expression on his face distinguished him a lot from Jack.

"My name is Timothy… Timothy Lawrence… not Jack" replied the double with a soft voice, his eyes looking at the bowl. Wilhelm had difficulties to get over it. He had almost forgotten about the double, and, deep down inside, he blamed himself.

"I was not expecting to see you again" He admitted, more calmly.

"I know. You were too busy, uh ?"

"Uh… How are you going?" asked the Hyperion man who preferred to avoid talking about his services for Jack.

"I guess… fine? Now ?...Well, I mean… When I came back to my home, mom was dead and the house was not mine anymore. And nobody wanted me around with my face and, of course, it's impossible to change anything about it. So… With the money of my contract with Jack, I decided to come here and find Moxxi. She was the only one I could find and I begged her to help me. Guess I was pathetic enough because she accepted my request, heh ! Since this day, I'm working for her, in her bar of the Badass Crater of Badassitude. Oh and we are under it, anyway. I live here now." He explained while he was holding out the bowl and a spoon to him. Wilhelm nodded, making him understand he was listening as he grabbed the spoon.

The minutes that followed was spent in complete silence. Wilhelm was eating slowly, his arm tiring for each coming and going from the bowl to his mouth. After a moment, Timothy had to take over and feed him as a child. He had a small touched smile that confused the older man, accustomed to the smirks of the Handsome Jack. The double, was so nice and tender.

The bowl finally empty, Wilhelm could ask the question nagging him. "Why are you doing that for me?"

"Maybe you will find this dumb but… I still consider you as…hm…a…uh… yes, a friend." He explained while his cheeks were blushing. "And I'm hoping…"

"Hoping what?"

"To see again the Whilelm I knew." He smiled foolishly. "The Wilhelm who would pay attention to his surroundings. The Wilhelm who, even if he was grumpy, would come to help the fear ridden man I was. The Wilhelm who protected me and taught me how to fight. In fact, the man whom I trusted, with whom I felt safe and with whom I ... hm ... felt a little close."

"Weirdo."

"I know."

Wilhelm watched the hand of the younger man gently stroking his bruised arm. He raised his eyes to the disfigured face and was able to read guilt. Then he heard a "This is my fault ..." Yes it was his fault. Wilhelm was supposed to be dead, not spreading out on a bed, helpless and destroyed. There was reason to be angry against the one he once called "baby skag". Slowly he felt his blood starting boiling as these thoughts collided in on him.

"Yeah" He growled, venting his frustration. "If you have kept yourself out of MY business, I wouldn't be reduced to THIS! A fucking piece of meat! Next time, keep your friendly feelings for yourself instead of removing ALL MY DIGNITY! You are lucky I can't crush your pretty face!"

Timothy looked away, got up and went to put the bowl and the spoon in the sink. "And I would let you crush my ugly face if you really want. I'm used, now, after all." He sat down again, without fear, nearby Wilhelm who got a little disconcerted. "In fact, I'm not going to stop there."

"Because you didn't mess up enough?!"

The double leaned over him, his thinner hands holding the shoulder of the giant. It seems like we was about to cry. "Stop that, Wilhelm, stop that! I know I really messed up and I'm blaming myself to death, okay?! I had no idea that the vault hunter would be so brutish with you! A-and I'm mad at them!" He hides his face for one minute, drying his tears. "I don't have means as Jack does, but I promise, Wilh, yes, I promise that I will give you back what's missing! Your legs, your arm, you eye, everything they took off from you, I'll give you back! I will work harder! Whatever my condition, I'll get even more involved in…"

He stopped and blushed, looking away. "…in my second job… I will do EVERYTHING to save enough money for buying you new prosthetics or even make it by myself if I have to! I promise, Wilh, I won't leave you like this! I'll take care of you!"

Wilhelm was so surprise by so much sincerity and kindness that he did not know what to reply. Timothy said nothing more and started to take care of the injuries that the vault hunters had done to the old cyborg. He removed the bloodied gauzes and bandages and treated the wounds one by one. Wilhelm saw him wince at the sight of the orbit now empty and damaged. Still, he did not back away.

"Did you become a nurse, too?" Wilhelm muttered before grunting as Timothy rubbed over a sensitive point, making his entire face ache.

"Oh sorry! Sorry, sorry! Did I hurt you really bad?"

"I'm okay…"

Reassured, the double could answer him. "No… But Moxxi taught me a little. It was hard for me at first to make the other's respect me so… Yeah… I let you imagine."

"And now ?"

"I made them respect me! Well… My customers know they need me and that I can refuse their request if they're not nice with me."

"Their request?"

"Ahmmm… I'll explain later, ok?" said Timothy, ending his sentence in order to cover the wounds of Wilhelm with clean bandages. "But I admit that, sometimes, I wish I had someone who could help me managing this bar. I mean, the big badasses there don't fear me or my threats and it's not on my temple they dig the tip of their guns ..."

Wilhelm imagined some things even worse. What those assholes could do to him ? It was not necessary to make him endure more. "You seem tired."

"It's already late, 11pm… and I stayed awake, looking after you during two days so… yeah… I'm a little tired… But no worries! I…you…need it so…" He said seemingly growing nervous, seeing the other man sighing. The elder took him by the collar of his denim jacket and pulled him over his body forcing him to lie down at his right side on the bed.

"Sleep!" He ordered.

"But…"

"Sleep! You need it!" he ordered again before grumbling "…hm… even more if you have to pay me back my prosthetics…" But Timothy knew that he was saying such things because he wanted to keep his title of old grumpy asshole. So he curled up against him, holding tight the arm of the man he love secretly and closed his eyes.

"I missed you, Wilh."