A/N: It's cute that y'all think you're the heroes of this little story, but you're not.
The man who called himself Handsome Jack sat alone in his office. The only light came from a small lamp on his desk, and the corners of the room were obscured in shadow. He held a glass of amber liquid in his hand, shaking it gently to hear the clink of the ice inside. The lamp's light caught the ice and sparkled on it, and he gazed into the glass as if it would hold all the answers. Things were getting complicated now. He knew he could overcome any difficulties the pitiful resistance could throw at him, but something had changed. Something that he hadn't planned for.
His employees had all gone home for the night, but still Jack remained. He had no home to go to, not really. Sure, he had an opulent place to lay his head at night, full of all the luxuries and amenities any man could ever ask for, but it didn't feel like home.
There had been no home for him since his own child had killed the love of his life. It was an accident, a toddler's rage against the authority figure who dared to challenge her. In a normal home, it would have been another unremarkable incident, but normal homes don't house tiny, rebellious Sirens.
He still loved his daughter fiercely. The power he had over her- well, that was for her own good. The poor child had to grow up without a mother, and Jack did his best. Someone had to take care of her, keep her from harming herself, and who better than her father? If he had to control her, he had to control every part of her. Her actions, her experiences, even her thoughts. Tell a person the same thing enough times, and they will believe it from the very depths of their soul. He'd only told Angel the truth- she could not survive without him.
And she couldn't, he knew that. She couldn't control her power without her father's help, and he would not let harm come to her. Ever. He'd found this planet, this Pandora, and it was perfect for her. When his daughter was born with those telltale blue tattoos, after the first time she lashed out to hurt her helpless parents with powers an infant couldn't possibly understand, he'd begun reading everything he could find about the legendary Sirens.
Pandora held the key, but his precious girl couldn't live on a planet like that. Not with all those degenerates, those bandits crawling all over the surface like so many cockroaches. Destruction, chaos, bloodshed. These were the words that described life on Pandora, and these were words he never wanted his Angel to experience the truth of.
So for her own good he used her to dupe the idiot vault hunters. Her beautiful face, her beautiful voice…how could anyone ever doubt that she was anything but who she claimed to be? And just as he had planned, they swallowed every word. After the vault opened, his rise to power within the Hyperion Corporation had been slow, but assured.
For Angel, he would do anything. For Angel, he would conquer a world. He told her that, time and again, but something was wrong. He'd made a mistake somehow, somewhere, because his daughter was turning against him. Had he praised her at some point when punishment would have been more effective? Had he allowed her to see too much of the outside world? Where had his control broken down?
He stared into the ice, thinking of the tears that had sparkled in his wife's eyes before she took her last breath. They'd looked so much like this. With a sudden violent motion, he threw the glass across the room where it shattered on the marble floor. He buried his head in his hands. All the power, all the money, it wouldn't bring her back, and it couldn't make his baby girl love him again. Everything he did, he did for her, and if it indirectly benefited him, was that so bad? Of course not. Why would it be?
But every time she called him "Jack" instead of "Daddy", it hurt him inside. Once he had been her world, but it seemed her world had expanded. Hadn't he told her enough that this was all for her? Could she really be so foolish? So ungrateful?
It didn't matter. She would understand in time. If she hated him for a while, well, he could take it. Someday she would understand the sacrifices he had made for her. Someday she would be his little girl again.