The first time Timothy shot someone was the day he set foot on Helios.
It wasn't the first time he'd held a gun. Not even the first time he'd fired one. It was considered standard procedure to know how to use a weapon without shooting your own foot off if you wanted to get involved with the corporates - cutthroat business at its finest.
It wasn't what he'd been expecting though.
He'd read up on Jack when the program was first suggested to him. Dude was a programmer. On paper he didn't sound that important, certainly not someone worth killing, just a man with a dream and an ego big enough that he was willing to shell out money on a doppelganger he really didn't need.
That sounded fine to Timothy. He was short on options, and the payout looked good. Just a few years playing a role, sitting around in a cushy desk job and pretending to be a target, then no one would be hounding him for student loans and threatening to break his legs when he couldn't pay them off. Not his ideal start to life outside of university, but it could be worse. He could be in retail.
Then of course he'd stepped onto Helios and bullets were flying, people were dying, and Timothy was having a very bad time.
His one consolation was that he wasn't the only unfortunate soul stupid enough to get dragged into whatever mess was taking place on the station. There were five others, and even if Timothy was busy panicking because nothing had prepared him for the adrenaline fuelled horror show that was a shootout or the sight of someone's head actually exploding, they seemed like they knew what they were doing.
And there was Jack… as much of a smug asshole as Timothy had always predicted, and perfectly blase about the whole situation. He acted more like it was an irritating inconvenience than a life threatening turn of events.
By that point Timothy was already having some deep regrets. It wasn't like he could go backward though. Sometimes you just had to see where life took you… and sometimes it was into a moonshot cannon where you were fired off toward almost certain death, but at least he was getting paid? He really hoped he was getting paid.
Days passed, and somehow Timothy was still miraculously alive. Jack had them running across Elpis from one errand to the next, but the time at least gave him the chance to work on his performance. He focused on the way Jack talked, all that oozing self-confidence and casual charm, tried to hit all the right notes, to toss out one-liners like they didn't taste fake and empty on his tongue.
Whenever they had the fortune to rest anywhere with a mirror he would waste hours staring at his reflection. The face never felt like his own. It would bend and stretch when he moved it, grin and glower and grimace, but no matter what he did there was something missing, the subtleties of his own expressions he hadn't even realised relied so heavily on the set of his jaw or the dimples that formed at the corners of his mouth.
He got very good at mimicking his boss though - perfected that cocky smile, learned to square his shoulders and put swagger into his stride.
He was actually a little proud of it.
The days he always spent dedicated to the role, but the nights Timothy considered to be his own. While the rest of their motley crew slept or prepared for challenges ahead, he would find a corner to settle in and pull out his Echo. Then he would write.
He told stories of grand adventures where the hero's were never afraid and everyone got their happy ending. The words might not have been profound, nor particularly artful, but they were a comfort regardless because he could control a story in a way he could never control his life. When he wrote, the panic eased.
Timothy got better at using guns. Nisha laughed at his first few attempts at target practice, but she still took the time to correct his posture, taught him how to use a pistol like a professional and not just an actor playing the part. The woman's aim was something to fear. Between her direction and the digi-clones he was beginning to feel almost competent in a fight, even if part of his brain never stopped screaming. Having the others around certainly helped too.
Athena was always there with a well timed shield, Aurelia with a blast of ice to lock his enemies in place, Wilhelm with air support… even Claptrap offered a convenient distraction from time to time. He didn't know what he would have done without them. Die, probably.
But he wasn't dead, and he began to think that maybe, just maybe, he might actually make it. Once Elpis was taken care of, life as a body double would return to something resembling normality. Jack would carry on his job with Hyperion, and Timothy would… attend meetings for him?
Honestly, he still didn't understand what a programmer actually needed a body double for, but by this point he suspected it had less to do with necessity and far more to do with ego.
Jack was a total ass. The longer he played the role, the more he hated it. But student loans were student loans, and a contract was a contract. All he really needed to do was survive.
It would be generous to say that they were a team. They were still a rag-tag band of misfits in those early weeks, held together by spit and courage, and the thought of a shared payday waiting somewhere at the end of that dark track. They were learning a little of each other though.
Athena was brave. Aurelia was rich. Nisha was a sadist. Wilhelm was… really into cybernetic upgrades. Claptrap was a mistake.
And Timothy… well, Timothy was Jack, mostly. It was what he was supposed to do, and in some ways it was easier… Jack was a jackass (haha) but he was handsome, and maybe even a little heroic and daring, in the way some corny TV star posing for witty one-liners might be as he took down the villain of the week.
Jack didn't freak out in the middle of a shootout. Jack didn't scream while pursued by a pack of kraggons. Jack certainly didn't wince at the mere sight of a hypo-needle.
So long as he was Jack, things were fine.
Unfortunately Jack's personality was as grating for his new companions as it was for him.
"Darling, one of that man is quite enough," Aurelia told him after the third time he'd called her 'babe'. "If you ever get tired of this ridiculous charade, I will happily pay you to stop."
"It's my job. I have a contract," Timothy said.
"What do you think lawyers are for? If you have enough money, rules mean nothing. And I'm rich. Have your people call my people and we'll sort something out."
And a part of him… a part of him actually considered it. That maybe this was his ticket out. No more lazers, no more moon, no more scavs, no more explosions… he could go back to being ugly and poor, and live out a boring normal life as Timothy Lawrence. Maybe his mum would even smile when he strolled in? They'd told him she was laughing when they delivered the news of his 'death', but that was probably just to hide the tears. Probably.
But even as he entertained the idea doubts began to brew.
Why would Aurelia do something so… generous? Her, with all her cruelty, all her coldness, all her not-so-subtle bragging as she sneered at a world so beneath her.
He knew that her words would never be anything but a trap, bait for a joke for which he was the punchline. He would say yes, and she would laugh, mock him for his desperation, his disloyalty…
So Timothy just pulled on that classic action-hero grin and asked, "And give up being this handsome?"
She made a disgusted sound. He didn't blame her.
Timothy met the girl of his dreams on Concordia. Unfortunately for Timothy, she was his boss's ex-girlfriend, ten thousand miles out of his league, and had a habit of making him blurt his thoughts out at high speed regardless of whether he actually had anything to say.
In his defence, Moxxi had that effect on a lot of people. Not to mention Timothy didn't have a lot of experience talking to pretty people…
Oh, he looked at them from afar sometimes, concocted fantasies in his head where his words were somehow swave and his grin enigmatic, and they found they were enraptured by the mystery of him… That was all just a pitiful way to run from the fact that he was entirely unremarkable though and everyone knew it at a glance. His old face never drew attention. His voice cracked when he got nervous. He was used to being overlooked, used to accepting defeat… he wasn't used to going up and talking to someone who made his stomach flip and his palms sweat, certainly not while five other people sniggered at his discomfort in the background.
He knew he completely broke character, but he couldn't help it. Timothy thought he was in love. After he saw her out of her makeup and cheerily singing some nonsense song to herself in her natural accent, grease stain on her cheek and spanner in her hand, well… if anything he just tumbled further down the rabbit hole.
Moxxi was perfect.
And yes, maybe it was hopeless, it always was with him, but there was still a little piece of him that wondered if he had a chance… even a small one…
He didn't have his old face anymore, he had Jack's, and as much as Timothy hated the man he was, admittedly, handsome. Moxxi had dated Jack once, so she must have seen something in him… if he could figure out where Jack had gone wrong, maybe he could fill in the blanks? Offer whatever it was that had been missing?
After the whole business with the moon, anyway. Save Elpis, become a hero… the hero always got the girl, right? God, who was he trying to fool…
It was shortly after Concordia and his complete failure to cling to the role of Jack that Athena spoke to him. She'd spoken to him before, they all had, but mostly just to tell him to get out of the way of incoming fire. She struck him as more of a stoic type than anything.
They'd just finished an errand for Janey that the others had declined to assist with on the grounds that it 'wasn't important and by the way did you forget that there's a giant laser destroying the moon?'
Timothy quite liked Janey though. She was kind when she didn't have to be, and also kept cat pictures lying around which made anyone a good person in his book. He had a sneaking suspicion that Athena also liked her, for different reasons, not that he was going to bring it up since Athena could crush him like a bug if she wanted to.
Helping Janey was a pleasant distraction and she even threw in a little pocket money for their trouble, so he was in decent spirits as they made their way back to the group.
Then… and he'd never understand quite why… Athena went ahead and broke the comfortable silence between them. "You have a name, right?"
He blinked at her in surprise. "Course I do, babycakes, it's Jack"
Athena gave him that look. The one that seemed like she was simultaneously disappointed and exhausted with the world, but still not surprised. She wore that look a lot.
"You're not Jack," she said. "I've seen the two of you in the same room together."
"I could be Jack," he said, all grin, all charm, all the things he'd learned to copy. "Whole point of a body double, am I right? Identical. Who's to say we never switched places?"
She narrowed her eyes. Squinted at him for a moment like she was studying something, but after a second she just shook her head. "You're not. You're a good actor, but you're not him."
Timothy's grin stayed locked in place, but his heart stuttered. It was unreasonable that the words felt like that when he'd spent so long practicing the role until he knew it inside and out, until he lived it, breathed it… he should be frustrated at her conviction.
But he wasn't. Goddamn it, he wasn't.
They weren't on Helios. There was no one else here. Right now, it was just him and Athena, trekking across yet another deserted stretch of the moon because this was the direction that life had tossed him, and he didn't really… know her that well. She kept to herself when she wasn't working a job. Rarely had much to say when she was. But somehow she was still the first person to ask anything about him since he'd taken on the role of Jack. How pathetic was that?
He cleared his throat, but he couldn't quite meet her gaze when he finally spoke. "I did. Have a name, I mean. I'm legally forbidden to tell you, but, uh… it rhymes with Jimothy."
Athena was quiet. "So you were someone. Before you were this."
"Does it matter?" he asked.
She shrugged.
It was four days later when Athena walked up to him, and said without missing a beat, "Timothy Lawrence."
He stared at her as if he'd seen a ghost. Athena had never really seemed to grasp how to ease her way into conversations, it was always blunt, like this, but Timothy usually didn't mind. Not like he didn't deal with his own share of awkwardness. How exactly she expected him to respond though he didn't know.
He continued to stare. He opened his mouth, closed it, and when he tried again he found he still couldn't string the words together. "I don't… I'm not… what?"
"That's your name, right?"
Okay, yes, he'd given her a pretty big hint on the first name, but the surname was a shock.
She took his silence as all the answer she needed and gave a nod. "Thought so. I did some digging."
"But how? I'm… he's not supposed to exist anymore, not on paper."
"You don't. But there were still some Echo logs."
Timothy weighed this information. The smart thing to do was probably to ask about them, so he could find them, wipe them, do what Jack would want. That was what he got paid for. He'd sold that identity when he'd signed his contract, tossed it aside like it was nothing. He'd never expected to miss it.
What had he been, after all, but some loser drowning in student debt and a growing disillusionment with the world around him?
Nobody missed Timothy Lawrence.
Athena was waiting, her arms folded.
"Don't tell Jack," he said, quietly.
"I won't," she promised.
"Blah-blah-blah, something Jack would say."
Athena gave a snort, the closest she ever came to admitting amusement, but he could still read it. Timothy was good at reading people.
He'd been dropping his act around her a little more when it was just the two of them. Small things at first, subtle, but the longer it went on the more his confidence grew, and it felt good to talk to anyone like that. To talk, and not have Jack's words come out. Still his voice, but, well, it was something.
"Real smooth talker, aren't you?"
"The smoothest."
She sighed, leaning back against the cold metal wall of the outpost and staring off through the shimmer of the oxygen field into the unforgiving void beyond. Only the lifeless grey of Elpis, and the endless night that hung above.
"Hey…" she asked, "you know what you're going to do, once this is all over?"
Timothy just shrugged. "Honestly? No. Kinda figured I'd just spend the next six years sitting at a desk pretending to be this asshole, then once my contract's up grab my paycheck and take the first ship off this dump. You?"
Athena was quiet for a few seconds. She didn't look over at Timothy, but her eyes narrowed as if focused on some far off point neither of them could see. He wondered if he should have asked. If it was a step too far in a friendship they were still testing the shape of, uncharted territory for them both.
Then she shrugged, a mirror to his own careless gesture, and he felt his tension ease.
"I don't know. Find someone else who needs bad guys shot," she said.
Timothy nodded. "Cool."
Maybe that was where he should have left things, his standard empty contribution to anything he didn't have a scripted response for. Athena was still staring out into the colourless landscape before them though, and her expression seemed… darkly contemplative, if he had to pick a word for it. Grim, and uncertain.
If money alone was her motive she would have been easy to understand. Timothy knew that was Wilhelm's only reason for sticking around. Aurelia was bored. Nisha just wanted to shoot people. Claptrap was anyone's guess. But Athena… the more time he spent with her, the more he thought that she'd come here looking for something, even if she didn't know it. And that maybe she really would pack up and move on to the next job looking for exactly the same thing, and not finding it there either. At least Timothy knew where he stood with student loans.
He stared down at his hands. Large, sturdy hands - Jack's hands - but his fingers meshed together in an awkward twist that was all his own.
"Just, uh… putting ideas on the table here," he said tentatively, with a furtive glance in her direction, "but maybe you should grab Janey a drink sometime… you know, once this is all over. Before you skip town."
That finally did get her attention. Athena looked over at him sharply, and it wasn't with the murderous glare he'd anticipated but the intensity of her stare was still uncomfortable. He fidgeted under it for several painstaking moments before her gaze softened.
"Maybe. You ever going to work up the courage to ask Moxxi out?"
Timothy felt the blood rush to his cheeks. "T-that's- I mean, it's not… that's not the same."
Athena just snorted again, and the corner of her lips twitched upward. "Yeah… real smooth talker."
Despite his blush Timothy couldn't stop his grin. He gave her shoulder a light punch - a playful tap - before letting his head fall back against the wall and staring up at the ceiling.
"Shut up," he mumbled. There was no bite to it though.
He wondered if this was what real friends did. He'd never been popular in school, or even university, and when he'd hung out with people it tended to be more of a herd instinct. Banding together to make yourself less of a target. Nobody had tried to contact him after graduation.
Would Athena try to reach him, once this was all over? Timothy thought he might just miss her, even if she didn't.
((So I wrote this mainly as an expertise to get myself back into writing, where I did lots of short scenes rather than big, sprawling chapters. I've got a bit over 10k written, but I wanted to post the first bit just to see what people make of it. I'm hoping to do 4 parts - two durning + shortly after the pre-sequel, and two covering Timothy's time on the casino and his eventual escape. Comments are exceptionally welcome!))