Rhys woke up with a start. Which he fucking regretted, by the way, because his head and his chest ached and as soon as he's sat up, his brain felt like it was being ripped in two and he was quickly being pushed back by – what? Small hands, definitely had to be a woman's, which was only confirmed when a soft voice sounded off next to him. He'd turned his head over to get a look at her, try to read her lips to make out the words his ears were too busy ringing to hear, but that's when he realized … he … he couldn't see? What – his vision was pitch black, even his cybernetic eye, which was fucking terrifying, and his breath was hitching before he could even tell himself to calm down. And why did his right side feel so light – wait – where was his arm?
"Sir," incoherent mumbling, "-down. You passed-" What? He couldn't understand her. "-lie down and relax."
"I-I can't see," he croaked pathetically, instantly set into a coughing fit at the action that had him hurting everywhere all over again. Fuck – tears were pricking as the corners of his eyes from the mix of emotions and all the coughing, and even the soft hand soothing auburn hair back and out of his face after he laid down wasn't calming him any.
"That's alright, that's normal under your circumstance," the woman informed, and Rhys breathed a painful sigh of relief as his hearing had already flooded back to him. His eyes were still wandering around uselessly though, trying to find an outline of something, anything, but it was to no avail. "It should be back within the hour, so don't worry about it so much. We've also got your cybernetics shut down to make sure no damage was done there, and everything came back negative, so I'll turn those back on for you now if you'd like," she offered, and the male gave a single, slow nod in return.
It took a few minutes for the nurse, he assumed, to help him get his arm back on properly, easily voicing her through what pieces to pin where and which hinges she should clip together first to make it easiest. He had to sit up for that, but she'd promised him some fresh pain meds for after so he dubbed it just fine with him. His vision was even returning, though barely, since he could only see the faintest of blurs where light must be resonating off of machinery screens, and obviously, the ceiling. Next the girl was pulling a cord from his port, cybernetic eye quickly whirring back to life and furthering his sight even more, as well as bringing feeling back to his robotic arm, in which he experimentally flexed his fingers. Well, at least all of this was looking good …
His throat was bruised into the next god damn century, he knew that much. Every simple noise he made, every deep breath, every wrong turn of the head made him feel like his jugular was being sliced. Not by any normal blade though – something thick, something burning, something dull sided – a slow and painful wrenching that made his gut twist unpleasantly. Jack had done this to him. For the second time. In all fairness, the first time didn't count to the younger man. That was … it was slightly reasonable. But now? This? He didn't know what he'd do when time came to see Jack again. If the time came. Maybe he'd chosen to abandon Rhys and take Atlas for himself. Maybe he'd abandoned Atlas altogether and was getting ready to find an army and take the corporation down. Nah. Overtaking the company definitely sounded more Handsome Jack-like.
Speaking of things that sounded like Handsome Jack. The CEO jolted in his hospital bed which, he'd learned, was in the reserved floor of Med Bay, the medical facility at Atlas' main building. He heard the footsteps – heavy, sure, quick paced, and he knew exactly who it was that was about to walk through the door of his hospital room. He cut off the conversation he had going with the nurse – Scout – lips parted slightly mid-word as he lay there on his side, one hand tucked under his pillow while the other rested near his head.
"What is – why the fuck didn't you tell me he was awake?" The brunette inquired as he pushed himself into the room, and the girl that had been so seemingly confident before was now resorted to a shaking heap of stutters. He couldn't blame her, since he was in the same damn boat, brown eyes glued to the illuminated parts of the floor that weren't just gray blobs of shadow to his still recovering eyes. As if his throat wasn't bad enough already, there was now a lump there that he just couldn't swallow down. He felt sick.
"I just – I had to check on his vitals, s-sir, and make sure there was no extra damage or—"
"You know what – just get out before I put a bullet through your brain," he hissed, as Rhys was slowly curling upon himself, tucking his face against his arm and the thin mattress as if willing himself to disappear. He couldn't do this. He couldn't handle it. He didn't want Jack around, not right now. He didn't want the inevitable end to their relationship and everything good they had going to be inevitable. He wanted them to be happy. Was that really that much to ask? Hearing the quick clicks of heeled shoes bolting from the room, he knew he was doomed.
"Rhys – Rhysie. Look at me," Jack pushed, as his voice shifted from something feral to something much tamer, though still demanding nonetheless. Rhys didn't listen, though – burying his face even further into his feigned safety, biting down harshly on his bottom lip when it quivered. He wanted the man to leave, but he was smarter than just telling him that.
He heard the older man walking closer, and he prayed to whatever god was out there for Jack to finish him off quickly and silently, not being able to handle any more torment. The shuffling of fabric suggested the male had crouched down next to the metal bars of his bed though, and Rhys gave more than just a little jump when he felt a large hand sooth over his hair, shushed when a small noise slipped past his sore throat.
"Shh – it's okay, baby, you're fine. It's fine," Jack murmured, and Rhys wanted to ask why the fuck the guy thought that would work when he was the one that did this to Rhys in the first place, but that really didn't amount to much when he felt his shoulders tensing if only the smallest bits less at the small pets to his hair. The older man being by his side was just welling up too many emotions, too many for the kid to handle, and despite the protests of his aching body he was quickly falling into a pit of half-restrained sobs.
Neither said anything past Rhys' little cries, Jack just petting at unstyled locks softy, surprisingly patient about the whole thing. After a few long minutes he'd given a demanding little coo again for the younger male to come out of hiding, and gave a sigh when nothing still came out of it.
"Kitten, c'mon. I know you aren't gonna' take me seriously if you can't even look at me," he beckoned, and a few of Rhys' muscles twitched undecidedly, as if he meant to push his arms up a little and lift his head, but he dubbed it useless for the most part and instead went with peeking puffy brown eyes out from behind his flesh arm. "How ya' feeling, princess? You okay?"
Rhys really didn't get why Jack was even asking. Of course he wasn't okay. His boyfriend had just - or well, however long ago that was - strangled him until he passed out. His boyfriend who was now sitting in front of him acting like the most concerned partner in the galaxy. It didn't make sense, but he supposed most things in his life didn't make sense anymore. Did Jack obtain some cursed bipolar disorder when he'd been reanimated? Damn.
"I'm ... I feel shitty," he murmured, shifting himself just a little bit so he wasn't completely curled in anymore. His voice was hoarse - it had been a little off anyways thanks to the state of his throat, but it was even more so now from the crying. Jack was quickly glancing around at that, finding a glass of water in no time which he passed over. The auburn haired man had to sit up a little, taking a few painful gulps that might have even had the brunette nonadmittedly wincing before the container was set to the side again. Swallowing it down hurt - but it felt like a relief to finally have some fluids in him. "How long was I out, anyways?"
There was a pause at that, and Rhys glanced over with furrowed brows to see Jack pursing his lips. Oh, isn't that just great? Best reaction he could have hoped for. When the kid stared at the older man expectantly, he'd even averted blue and green eyes before speaking up. "Twelve days. Almost two weeks, kiddo," the man answered, looking to the kid again for a reaction. And a reaction he got.
The CEO didn't hesitate to sit up, ignoring the pain and the flush of dizziness that followed. Two weeks? He'd been out for two weeks? What had – was Jack taking care of Atlas that whole time? Fuck. He could have done anything – he could have done anything and deleted any evidence of it being done. Sure, Rhys was a great hacker, one of the best, but against Handsome Jack? That guy probably knew every trick in the book, and if he did do anything suspicious Rhys knew he wasn't stupid enough to do too much through any sort of Echo, where all of it could be recited and tracked. He could have went out to the middle of the Pandoran desert for all the kid knew, where no cameras or microphones would find him.
Rhys couldn't breathe.
He glanced down to his flesh arm, cybernetic one reaching over to rip any cords out from under his skin, legs swinging to the side of the mattress so he could hop down. He ignored Jack's protests – until he was more than just forced to listen, two large hands cupping at his face and steering his gaze in the brunette's direction. He didn't say anything at first, just waited for Rhys to still and for his shoulder to become a little less tense, voice as stern as his expression when he finally spoke up.
"Look. I know you have zero reason to trust me right now. I get that. But I – just do it anyways. We're 'til death do us part, baby, okay? You want proof? I had your buddy Vaughn keeping watch on me almost every minute I had my glorious ass in the office. Hell, he even came to the house once. He's a fucking dweeb like you – but, but that doesn't matter right now! The point is, I want you to trust me. I need you to. I know what I did was shit, but I think I had a good god damn reason to be pissed. But we'll talk about that later," Jack finally finished with a sigh, and after a good minute of silence, Rhys meekly nodded.
"I just … I want to go home," he murmured, eyes lowering from the older man's, though with the guy's hands on his face the lowest he could comfortably look at the moment was around the old Hyperian's collar. "Please..?"
Jack had sucked in a breath, obviously thinking about his answer before he was pulling back with a sigh. "Yeah, c'mon. But if anything seems wrong we're bringing you right back here, got it?" The older inquired, and when Rhys gave a nod the brunette was going to find a fresh pair of clothes - had Jack brought those here at some point? After the kid had changed and earned numerous objections from a different nurse than before, Jack had sworn her off and they were out of the medical wing.
The elevator ride back down to the ground floor was quiet, as well as the ride back to the penthouse. Just like three weeks ago, Jack was innocently helping Rhys strip down before they'd even made it to the bedroom. The older man didn't follow along this time, though – not at first, but when Rhys' footsteps came to a slow stop and he peeked back at the taller man, he was met with a quick expression of confusion.
"Are you, uh … Do you even want me in there kiddo?" He questioned, cocking a brow slightly as he held a hand up in gesture. Rhys was hesitant, to be honest, though that was probably more than just a little normal or figured given the situation. He glanced down at his fiddling fingers, eyeing his IV bruise while he thought, before glancing to his boyfriend – Jack still wanted to date him, right? – again.
"Yeah," the younger male had agreed simply, and a grin had flashed over Jack's face before he was making his way over. The hand that took his own flesh one was almost tentative, before they were continuing on their way to the bedroom, the old CEO not even bothering to remove any of his own clothing before they were both under the false safeness of the duvet. Jack's arm were secure around Rhys, the latter's face buried into his boyfriend's neck where he took in any scent of him he could get. He needed this. He needed him. It didn't make any fucking sense, but he couldn't exactly help what he was feeling. Would he … Would he even want it to be different if he had the chance? Probably, but … That didn't mean he was about to start actually asking for anything different. This was Jack. His Jack. And he didn't want that any other way.
Rhys was ready to doze off, amazed how he could still be exhausted after being out of it for two weeks, but before he got the chance he was feeling lips press to the side of his hairline. As cheesy as it was, the soft rumble in Jack's chest as he began to speak up was oddly comforting, and the kid was snuggling further into the warmth as he listened in.
"I know I let my special boy down, so … How do you want me to make it up to ya', Rhysie? I'll do anything. I mean, mostly anything. Nothing like – just, what do you want?" Jack sighed, and Rhys couldn't hold back his small snort of amusement. At least he was trying.
The CEO didn't know how the hell to answer that, though. How the hell could Jack make up for strangling the shorter man? Obviously Rhys wasn't asking for another vacation. He wouldn't admit his disappointment in the outcome, either. Maybe he could ask Jack to take half of their already split up workload? No, he'd already had to do two weeks' worth or work alone … Maybe … Maybe uh … sexual favors …? Actually, that one wasn't totally out of the question. He'd think about it.
"I dunno' …" He murmured in response, giving the weakest shrug ever followed by a little breath. It was the truth, anyways, besides that one little idea. But he wasn't completely into asking anything like that when they hadn't even done … it, yet. Well, they actually hadn't done anything sexual, which Rhys found weird, because this was Handsome Jack, the king of flirting, but ... whatever. Jack was definitely the last person he ever saw as the 'make it special' kind of guy, but he wasn't complaining.
"That's not very friggin' helpful kiddo," Jack scoffed, and Rhys let out a laugh, which quickly died down due to the pain it caused. "Alright, alright, sleep on it I guess. But I want an answer by Friday," the older huffed, and the auburn haired had to take a second to determine it was Wednesday at the moment, giving a little nod of agreement.
The kid was reminded of something, though. He peeked his eyes open, and shuffled back a little, wanting to get a good look at Jack's face. He guessed this wasn't really that important, he just … he was curious. Part of him felt like he needed to know. "How did, uh … How was Vaughn about all this? I mean, did you tell him..?" Rhys questioned, and Jack crinkled his nose a little, probably not find of the topic when things were going okay right now, but he didn't outwardly protest.
"'Course I told him. He's your best guy. I dunno', I mean … how would anybody react when Handsome Jack's sayin' he choked your buddy out to your face? He bitched about it a little but I doubt he would have helped me if he totally didn't trust me. What was he like, A class paranoid freak?" Jack commented, and Rhys gave a nod of agreement. "So yeah, he knows. Everything. He knows about us too but he said he kinda' figured that one already," the man snorted, and the younger male was feeling his face heat up. He guess he didn't make it much of a surprise.
Rhys felt a few more kisses being placed to his forehead, cheekbones, nose, and lastly his lips, before he was hiding his face away against Jack again with a mostly content sigh. He just wanted to forget about everything else. Stay like this. Not worry about anything negative that might have went on or, maybe, will still go on. He was conflicted, in the least. Part of him wanted to push Jack away right now, tell him off and maybe even send him back to where he'd gotten him from – and the other part of him wanted to be right here, right now, just like this.
For now, he was definitely sticking with the latter.