He remembered some of it. Odd snippets, watching himself not be himself. Jack, parading about, every inch as self assured and ruthless as always, making everyone dance to his tune or die with their misstep. Rhys wanted to do something, but was like he couldn't quite wake up... just below the surface, tantalizingly out of reach. Whenever he tried he found he didn't have the strength to do more than think about it.
Perhaps he should have been relieved. It wasn't like the first time. At least this way he knew it was beyond his control, that he could absolve himself of blame and relax. Dozing in and out within his own head.
But he hated it. Even if it was useless, struggling was better. Trying was better than letting this happen.
He was sickened by half the stuff he saw. And he was terrified of half the stuff he didn't see, when he drifted out of consciousness.
Fiona, Sasha and the others were there a few times. He remembered the way they looked at him, an odd mixture of horror, pity and disgust. He wanted to say something to them. He wasn't sure what, but it seemed important. He almost roused himself from his daze.
Sleep it off, Kiddo, you're just getting in the way.
And he slipped away once more. When he next came to they were gone.
I could get used to this, this thing we have going, Jack was saying. You aaaalll quiet, actually... actually doing as you're told. Which isn't to say I don't like a bit of a fight, ha, almost miss the way you screamed. I mean, come on, you remember right? Me strangling your little friend, and there you were all 'no Jack, don't hurt them, please I'll do anything, please, stop!' Ha! Hil-arious... buuuuut we'll have some fun times ahead of us, you and me. What do you say, Pumpkin? Sound good to you?
Rhys didn't know what to say. Didn't know that he could say anything.
Hey Rhysie, asked you a question there. Don't leave me hanging.
Rhys remained silent in the back of his head.
Jack sounded almost disappointed. Okay, whatever, you sulk if you want kitten, just remember, you're not getting out of this. So suck it up, get used to it, and stop being to God damn boring!
That became his life. Half there, half not, and never more than an idle thought. A waking nightmare.
Jack talked to him sometimes, trying to bully a response out of him, but Rhys never had the energy. If he didn't know better he'd say Jack actually missed him. Though if he was honest, he probably missed tormenting him.
He knew something was happening. There were plans, plans he wasn't quite awake enough to grasp, preparations that would have made sense if he was paying attention. There was the caravan. And he wondered how he was seeing this, why he was seeing this... strange, it was so familiar it almost felt like home. As his eyes wandered the interior he remembered himself, Vaughn, Fiona, Sasha, LoaderBot and Gortys... maybe even Athena. They'd lived together here in grudging harmony while they searched for the vault. He missed that.
Then he glimpsed the stars, and then the dirt... and then, finally, Rhys woke up.
The sun was hot. He could feel it scorching his back. He could feel the red, dusty ground beneath his fingers, against his face, and the itch of sweat. He didn't move. Because if he tried... there was a chance nothing would happen. That possibility terrified him.
He heard a Rakk cry above, and somewhere close by someone muttered something to themselves. It all felt so real, not like the distant reality he'd come to know but something truly tangible. Rhys found the courage to act.
He started with his left hand, the real one, curling his fingers experimentally. They moved. Relief coursing through him he shifted the entire arm, and then his cybernetic one too, pushing himself up. He stared at the wide blue sky and the burnt, orange landscape, drinking it in.
"So, are you really you this time, or is this another bad joke?"
Rhys turned to look behind him. There, sat on a rock in the shade of the caravan, was Fiona. Her pistol was in her lap and as he watched, she polished it with a look of extreme focus, barely paying him any mind.
"It's me," he said, "Rhys, the corporate screw up."
He would have expected some reply to that, she always did love to agree in those rare instances he talked himself down. But she only glanced up, eyes studying him for a brief moment before she went back to her work.
"It is me. But... uh... what happened? Where are we?" he asked as he stood, dusting himself off.
"Where do you think?" Fiona asked dryly.
Oh. Well, he'd admit that was a stupid question. There was no mistaking Pandora, especially when Helios lurked in the sky like some sinister, all-seeing eye.
"Yeah, Pandora, okay, I get it," he said, "But how? I've... well, you know, I could do with a catch up. How did we escape? What did I miss?"
Fiona put down the rag and checked the mechanisms themselves, making sure they moved smoothly. "We didn't escape," she said.
"Then..."
"Then we're doing Jack's plan."
"And he's..."
"Probably still in your head somewhere. Had to leave for a while but he'll be back."
Rhys felt a lump in his throat. Fiona didn't look at him, just tested her draw, flicking the little pistol into her hand with practiced speed. She aimed at the skyline, squinting at some invisible target.
"So... so I just have to hang around, waiting for him to come back and turn me into his puppet again?! What kind of a plan was that? You said to wait for an opportunity but I though you'd actually... how could you let this happen?" he burst out. It only maddened him more the way she seemed determined to ignore him in favour of her gun. Didn't she care at all?
"What did you expect me to do, Rhys? Burn my way through Helios with my laser eyes? We couldn't get to you, okay, so just... shut up."
"And after that, you never even tried anything? Nothing? I though you were supposed to be some brilliant criminal mastermind, not a... a..."
"Should I wait?"
"Oh no. I've got a great insult."
"Uh-huh," she said, with a fair amount of schepticism.
"I-it's just too clever. You wouldn't get it. No, look, you're changing the subject! Are we really just going to leave me a prisoner and roll with this insane plan? I mean, come on... killing vault hunters? They could murder us with their pinky fingers!"
"Maybe you... Look, it's nothing personal, alright? On Pandora... on Pandora you do what you need to survive."
"And that means this... leaving me in the hands of a psychopath, backstabbing vault hunters... you're okay with that?" he asked.
She slipped the pistol back into her sleeve. "If that's what it takes."
"Unbelievable!" He threw his hands up in the air. "Well, maybe I'll start my own plan."
"Feel free to wander off into the desert if that's what you're thinking," Fiona said curtly. "Either you'll die or Jack will march you right back. Like it or not, you're working with us now, and we're working with you even if we'd rather leave you in a ditch. And both of us are stuck working for Jack."
Rhys paced, trying to rid himself of this frustration. To finally be himself again, but still be unable to do anything? It was just... unfair. None of this was how it was supposed to go. But none of it ever was, was it? They just ran from one accident to the next. Sometimes they got lucky. Sometimes... He found himself thinking of Scooter for a moment. Poor guy. At least Rhys was still alive. As long as that were true, he had a chance. He needed to remember that. He wasn't going to give up and let Jack win, not now, not ever. If Fiona and the others weren't going to help then he'd just have to think of something himself and hope that Jack wasn't watching too closely.
"Alright, fine," he said abruptly, turning back to her, "can you at least tell me how much time I have before that psychotic dickbag comes back?"
"Don't know, but it might be a while. When we meet the Vault Hunters he can't be here, he knows he'd just give himself away."
"So that's what we're doing now? Meeting Vault Hunters?"
"Finding them more like," she said. "We got news a couple of them were hunting bandits round here. If you've calmed down we'll go look once Sasha and August get back, they're scouting the area."
She hopped off the rock, pulling the caravan door open and climbing inside. After a moments hesitation Rhys followed.
"Gortys?" Fiona called. "Any word from the others?"
"Oh, hey Fiona! Sasha says they're coming back and... oh... hi Mister Handsome Jack Sir."
"It's, uh, it's Rhys this time," he said awkwardly, running a hand through his hair. The wound on his head had healed remarkably.
"Really? Awww, that's great! The other you is really creepy," she whispered, her eyes flickering to conspiratorial lines of light.
"Yeah, well... can't argue with that."
"Gortys, did they say how long they'd be?" Fiona interrupted.
"I dunno. She said they were coming back. Then they started arguing about something and then she said to turn the radio off unless he wanted everyone to hear, and then he said everyone could probably already hear with how loud she was, and then they turned the radio off and I don't know what else they said after that."
Fiona sighed. "Well I guess I should be thankful they're not getting back together anytime soon. How long ago was that?"
"Ten minutes I guess?"
"That's not too long... they could just be taking it slow," she said, half to herself. She glared at the caravan's radio, as if challenging it to speak to her.
"Yeah, they're probably fine," Rhys agreed.
"I didn't ask you."
"Just... trying to be positive."
She glared for a moment longer, then straighten up, business like. "We wait another ten. If they're not back by then, we go find them."
((Thanks to everyone who's left kind comments. You're the reason I keep writing this!))