"So what's stopping them from blowing us up before we even roll up to the gates?" Lilith squinted up at him from the footwell of the passenger seat. She had a point, but Roland chalked the comment up to irritation over the fact that she'd had to abandon her seat several miles back.
Still, the stealth was necessary. Roland's ECHOed request to meet with the remnants of the Crimson Lance that occupied Old Haven had gone unanswered and he didn't feel like taking more chances than they already were. Bringing a Siren into your enemy's stronghold for a supposedly peaceful negotiation wasn't exactly a show of good faith, but Roland wasn't stupid. Enemies didn't suddenly become friends with the wave of a white flag and Hyperion's invasion wasn't about to make the Crimson Lance forget what he and his friends had done to them.
Looking up at the turrets that lined the city's walls, Roland couldn't help but wish he had his Lancer back. Scooter might be a savant with all things mechanical, but that didn't make him a miracle worker. Roland glanced distastefully over the borrowed truck's dashboard and onto a particularly detailed drawing of two skags fucking that someone had painstakingly scratched in and internally sighed. He missed his ride.
"If they were gonna kill us, they would have already," Roland nodded up at the turrets clearly within range.
"Doesn't mean they won't change their mind," Lilith pointed out. "Still don't see why we couldn't have brought Brick and Mordi with us. They're not the only ones we can send out scouting for supplies. We could've used Timothy and Angel; it's not like they can't handle themselves."
"Yeah, but I trust Brick and Mordi to get the job done." Not that the two of them would've made much of a difference. The turrets on the wall followed their movements as Roland pulled up to the gates, but hadn't opened fire... yet. Hopefully, that was a good sign. Shutting off the engine, he furtively whispered, "You got the plan?"
"Yup, you walk into certain death, and I follow all sneaky-like," Lilith unenthusiastically supplied before lightly squeezing his knee. "Just don't get killed in there, Tiger."
"Not planning on it," he squeezed her hand back before exiting the vehicle and felt the familiar pulse informing him that Lilith had phased out of sight.
Roland raised his arms in the air as he slowly approached the gates. The rounded door pulled back from the wall and rolled to the side as the vault-like entrance to the city opened to reveal Lancemen armed and ready for him - including one carrying a rocket launcher trained at his feet. It looked like his reputation preceded him.
"I wanna talk to whoever's in charge," Roland said as the trio wordlessly manhandled him across the threshold. The door rolled shut behind him as two of them patted him down, relieving him of his digistruct module. "Is that really necessary?" Roland gestured to the third member still aiming the rocket launcher at him as the others worked.
"Yes," came the flat response, and Roland had to bite back a smirk at that. At least they were taking him seriously. "This way."
Roland's entourage left the confines of the guardhouse as they escorted him into the city. He briefly recalled the last time he'd visited Old Haven and found the lack of corpses an improvement. Once one of the largest cities on Pandora, it had quickly fallen into disrepair after being claimed by bandits several years ago. What little survivors there were had fled and established New Haven in its wake. The Lance had been busy since they reclaimed it and the place was looking surprisingly cleaned up.
The entire walk through the city felt like they were parading Roland to his execution. Lancemen gathered on either side of the street to watch, their stares and whispers following him as he was lead past. Seeing so many men and women dressed in military fatigues struck Roland with an odd sense of familiarity he hadn't expected. The faces that stared back at him were so similar to the ones he had served with during his time in the Lance. It was easy to forget that beneath the armor, these people were no different than he had been once. Of course, they hadn't killed their commanding officer and deserted. While he couldn't look back fondly on how his military career had ended, Roland still had the occasional wistful memory of his time served.
With one last unnecessary shove, Roland's escort came to a stop at a building that once served as a water treatment plant. With an elbow to the back, he unceremoniously crossed the threshold into a dimly lit office. Lounging at a desk that had seen better days sat a Lieutenant - judging by the insignia on his chest. At the far wall, a Corporal stood at parade rest. Roland would've mimicked the gesture, but wasn't given an option as he was roughly shoved into the only seat across from the Lieutenant.
"Thank you Private Jessup. You and your men are dismissed," the Lieutenant nodded at Roland's escort.
The Private dropped Roland's storage deck onto the desk. "Sir, are you sure that's a good idea?"
"Yes, now leave us," the Lieutenant's voice left no room for argument and Roland heard the sound of the door shutting moments later. "You're gonna have to forgive Private Jessup, he's a bit overeager. I'm Lieutenant Davis," he gestured absently over his shoulder. "That there's Corporal Reiss. Now would you mind telling us what the hell you're doin' here?"
"I'm assuming you got my message," Roland began.
"You're here, aren't ya?" Davis said impatiently. "You have my attention. So what are you proposing?"
"An alliance," Roland stated. "Hyperion's planning on wiping us all out, and we need to band together to stop them."
"Well, would'ja get a load of this guy," Davis chuckled humorlessly at Reiss. "You and your buddies opened up a can of wholesale slaughter in our base, killed our commanding officers, blew up our armory, and got us marooned on this rock. And now you think you can just waltz up in here and play nice? You got some stones, I'll give ya that."
"Yeah, that's exactly what I think," Roland said evenly. "New Haven is a smoking ruin right now. How long do you think Old Haven will last? The only way we'll have a fighting chance is if we join forces."
"We're not the ones who made an enemy of Hyperion," Davis shrugged. "So long as we keep to ourselves, Hyperion's got no reason to attack us."
"You're the last credible threat to them on the planet," Roland countered. "The only fighting force worth a damn on this rock. If Hyperion destroyed New Haven over four Vault Hunters, what do you think they'll do to you?"
"I think we can put up a better fight than New Haven," Davis said. "We've got the men and resources to deal with that possibility."
"Yeah?" Roland couldn't help but smirk. "And how well did that work out against the four of us?"
"Fuck you," Davis seethed. "Those were good soldiers you killed - not that you'd know anything about being a good soldier. You're a disgrace to that uniform, and I should have you executed for desertion."
He wasn't wrong. Roland had deserted, but it had been a long time coming. When Roland first joined the Lance, it had been under the promise of exploring the unknown, of colonizing the Borderworlds. And for a little while, it had been just that. Most of the time, civilization had grown without a single shot fired. There was a certain pride in conquering the frontier and leaving humanity's mark on the galaxy. And on the occasions where they did see action, well, the Lance wasn't the best equipped and trained force out there for nothing.
Of course, that was just a front they sold to the grunts. It wasn't until the Crimson Lance arrived on Pandora that Roland figured out the truth. Pandora wasn't new territory: it wasn't unsettled or uncivilized. Dahl had been occupying the planet for the better part of a century by the time Atlas rolled in, chasing rumors of another Vault. It wasn't exploration or colonization that the Lance was there for this time. Instead, their mission had been one of pacification. The words 'hostile takeover' didn't even begin to describe what had happened, but 'slaughter' would.
Not only had Atlas forces swept through Dahl's military presence, but also the company's mining operations, its scientists, and eventually its penal workforce. Dahl had been in such a rush to pull out that they left it all behind. Their workers, their equipment - everything was abandoned. In the wake of their retreat, the planet had fallen into chaos as the former prisoners and workers established the bandit clans that dominated the planet.
By the time Roland had been on Pandora a month, he was ready to turn his back on the Lance. He'd watched as everything they stood for fell away, or maybe it had always been that way and he was just too naive to see it before. When Sergeant Miles received orders to attack a group of workers holed-up at a mining facility in the Dahl Headlands, Roland didn't see any point in being part of a massacre. He'd confronted Miles about it that evening, and the sergeant didn't take too kindly to Roland's objections. When Miles had threatened to have him executed for insubordination, Roland had come to a decision. In the end, Miles had gotten two in the head, and Roland made his exit out of the Lance in style. Of course, he never did make it off-planet and fell into Vault Hunting like every other punk with a gun.
All things considered, he couldn't really complain about how things turned out.
"The Lance disgraced itself," Roland said flatly, tried of mincing words. "Look, I came here for supplies and men. I need both, but I'll settle for just your supplies."
At his words, Reiss pulled his gun and trained it at Roland. If Davis was particularly threatened, he didn't show it. Instead, he casually pulled his own gun and settled it on the table between them.
"Only idiots make threats they can't back up," Davis scoffed. "Reiss, I think we're done here."
"I don't make idle threats."
Davis laughed derisively, "Oh, really? Well, whad'ya got?"
"A Siren." Neither noticed the pinprick of light flaring into existence behind them until it was too late.
As the concussion sent a dartboard and other random office junk flying away, Roland snatched his storage deck off the desk and his assault rifle was instantly in his hands. Looking up, he found Lilith standing menacingly over where Reiss sat slumped against the wall and Davis tried to extract himself from his upended chair.
"Boys," Lilith greeted lightly. "Let's play nice."
Roland gestured the two of them up against the wall with his rifle. "Now pay attention 'cause I'm only gonna say this once: what's past is past, and our fight is over. We've both got bigger problems to deal with right now. I'd hoped to face it together, but we'll go it alone if we have to. Either way, it'll be with your supplies."
"My men will die before they join you," Davis spat.
"You sure you wanna test that?" Roland nodded back towards the door where he knew the rest of the encampment waited to see the outcome of their meeting. Stepping outside right now would be suicide if anything went down. He hoped Lilith would be intimidating enough to keep them from calling his bluff.
Roland tried to bite back the uneasiness he felt with giving these people an ultimatum. It felt far too reminiscent of his time back in the Lance. Still, desperate times called for desperate measures, and he didn't the luxury of negotiating.
"So, what's it gonna be?" Roland prompted as the tension began to eat away at him.
"I'll have to discuss this with my men," Davis stalled. "We'll have a response for you by tomorrow."
"We'll be waiting," Roland dropped his gun. "Are you gonna let us walk out of here, or are we gonna start this right now?"
Davis took his time seating himself back in his chair and waved him away. "Get out of here."
Roland and Lilith wordlessly left the cramped office behind and stepped out into the street, only to find three dozen Lancemen all aiming their weapons at them. There was even a Lance Battlesuit amongst them. Apparently, they'd heard Lilith's entrance. Roland didn't know whether or laugh or cry at the overcompensating absurdity of it all. Several tense heartbeats followed as the two hilariously mismatched sides stared each other down until Corporal Reiss appeared behind them. Roland hoped that Davis hadn't changed his mind.
"Let them pass," Reiss instructed.
The walk back to the city gates was the longest of his life. Only when the gates closed behind them did Roland finally release the breath he'd been holding. The shaking of his hands made it hard to get the key in the ignition, but he managed to finally get the truck started when Lilith reached out to steady him.
"You alright there, Big Guy?" she said when his gaze caught hers.
"Wasn't sure if we were gonna make it out of there," he said as he watched Old Haven's walls fall behind them through the rear-view mirrors. "Next time I get an idea like that: stop me."
"I dunno, I think it was kinda hot seeing you threatening those guys - very manly."
Her playful grin made him chuckle. "Yeah? Well, that was a pretty badass entrance back there."
"It was just one of those moments, y'know? You really did set it up perfectly with 'a Siren'," she finished dramatically before breaking out laughing.
"Yeah, that was awesome."
Gravel and sand crunched under the tires as their truck rolled to a stop outside of Jaynistown. Angel stretched out some of the stiffness in her body and slowly peeled herself away from the seat. Tugging at her collar for the umpteenth time, she was starting to think that being outdoors was overrated. As it was, she was tired, sore, and a nap was definitely in order. Wincing with every step, Angel carefully ducked under the turret and into the truck bed.
Timothy helped her down from the truck with a tired sigh. "Man, and I thought I rambled," he said lowly as Tannis fussed with the notes he'd given her.
"You're the one that got her going." Angel ran her fingers through her windswept hair.
"Yeaaah, not my smartest decision," he admitted. "Alright, I guess we should check in with Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Brooding."
Who was he - oh. Roland. Right. For all of Timothy's criticisms about her father, he definitely shared a little of his sense of humor. It left Angel wondering sometimes what Timothy had been like before he decided to become a copy-Jack.
As the two of them began to make their way towards the town gate Tannis called out, "And where do you and your capable hands think you're going? I need your menial labor skills to move my equipment to a location less prone to destruction."
Timothy resigned himself with a pained sigh, "Fiiine, I'll move your shit." Angel made to follow before he waved her off with a look that let her know just how enthusiastic he was about spending more time with Tannis. "It's fine, go let Roland know we're back. No need for both of us to suffer."
Angel shot him a sympathetic look before making her way into town. Not knowing where to start looking for Roland, she aimlessly wandered through the town's square. She hadn't had much of a chance to actually get out and walk around yet. After their exhausting journey just to get here, she hadn't felt much of a desire to. In fact, this was the first time she'd done any real wandering without Timothy around.
She felt his absence quite keenly as the stares of passing townspeople settled on her. It wasn't that she was afraid of them per se. It was just that well... this was Pandora and Angel had observed this planet for far too long not to know what its natives were like. More than once, her father had referred to the planet's people as the unwashed rejects of the galaxy. Looking around, Angel found it hard to disagree. Still, that had never stopped her from living up to her namesake as the Guardian Angel. Besides, Pandora did have a certain sort of charm to it.
Not especially eager to deal with Timothy's actions from earlier, Angel gave Scooter's garage a wide berth. She decided to try her luck asking around after a few minutes of searching with no results. Lifting aside the door-flap for the medical tent, she ducked inside to find Dr. Zed trying to sew a thresher tentacle to the corpse of a spider-ant.
For several moments, Angel stared wonderingly. "What are you doing? That - that doesn't even work."
"Not yet," Zed's eyes seemed to grin over his surgical mask. "This is just practice for later."
Angel immediately decided that she didn't even want to know what that meant and regretted her decision not to ask Scooter instead. "Okay. Ew," she fixed her gaze elsewhere. "Have you seen Roland anywhere?"
"Nope, he and Lilith left earlier," Zed replied with a squishing noise that made Angel's skin crawl.
Angel resolutely studied her shoes. "Do you know where they went, or when they'll be back?"
"Nah, they didn't say," he said. "I think maybe they just needed some alone time."
Also ew. Angel again cursed the fact that Roland had the entire town keeping radio silence out of fear that Hyperion could be monitoring the ECHOnet. It looked like they'd have to wait it out and hope to catch him later. Angel flinched as something else made another nasty squishing sound before making a swift exit from the tent with a hurried 'kaythanksbye'. She arrived back at the truck just in time to see Timothy unloading the last of Tannis' equipment into a storage shed. Judging by the look on this face, she hadn't made things easy for him.
"Take care not to drop that," Tannis fussed over Timothy's every move. "That's ancient Eridian technology and, while the significance may be lost on you, it is completely irreplaceable."
Angel had to stifle a laugh as she caught Timothy's exaggerated eye roll in her direction. "Yeah, yeah, don't drop the rocks. Got it."
"That 'rock' you're carrying is a piece of the Vault Key," Tannis snapped. "Perhaps a little more care is in order should you ever wish to open your Vault. Really, I was under the impression that you had a spark of intelligence somewhere in that dark well of your mind. As is often the case with your type: I overestimated you."
"Yeah, I disappoint a lot of people," Timothy mumbled, wiping the sweat off his brow. "Well, there's only one box left and I think you can handle it. I really need a shower." Before Tannis had a chance to object, Timothy placed his hand on Angel's shoulder and began marching her away and whispered, "Just go - don't make eye contact."
Once they were out of earshot, Timothy finally slowed down and let Angel go. She found it kind of amusing that he was practically running away from Tannis. On the other hand, she really couldn't blame him. She'd given Zed the same treatment.
"Tannis is really uh…" Timothy gestured around for the right word.
"Brisk?" Angel supplied.
"I was gonna say 'toxic', but yeah, we can go with that," he shrugged. "So, did you find our Dark Knight?"
Angel snorted, "Quit that! And no, Roland's away doing something."
"Well, these innocents aren't going to protect themselves," he joked and Angel waved away his silliness.
"I don't know. He took Lilith with him, so it must be important," she mused. Even though she and Timothy were now running missions for Roland, it didn't mean that they were really part of 'the group' yet. That, or maybe Roland didn't want to risk Hyperion finding out their plans if the two of them were captured. Either way, it meant that they were on a need-to-know basis.
"Huh, maaaybe," Timothy nodded solemnly. "Nah, they're probably just boning."
Eww. Again. Why does everyone think that? "So, shower time? You can go first," she offered, scrunching her nose up at his smell - not that she probably smelled any better.
"Oh good. Thought I was gonna have to fight you for it."
Angel was relieved to find that there wasn't a line waiting at the shower room. The town buildings operated on a communal shower system - unsurprising given its former tenants. A wall and a set of dingy lockers made up the entrance to the shower room, and Angel decided to wait on a bench for her turn rather than wander around town again. It wasn't like she'd have to wait long with water being as rationed as it was. She wasn't sure if she could really feel clean with only three minutes of water, but it was better than nothing.
"Doesn't sound like there's anyone in there, but lemme check," Timothy peeked through the doorway. "Looks clear. You mind?" he said as he began unbuttoning his shirt.
Angel turned away and digistructed her duffle bag on the bench. She picked through her clothes with the sniff test before catching sight of a washing machine on the far wall. Nothing out of the ordinary there, those things are everywhere after all, except this one actually looked like it was still hooked up.
"Do you think that washing machine works?" Angel said in awe. The idea of feeling clean clothing against her skin was a godsend.
"Dunno, but I could really go for that," he said.
Angel could hardly contain her excitement at the prospect. "Leave out your dirty stuff so I can toss it in the wash with mine."
"Appreciated," he said and Angel briefly heard the sounds of him ruffling through his own bag. "Just try not to let the smell knock out you. It's been sitting there for uh… yeah. Just don't breathe. Like, at all."
"Alright, let me know if anyone big and hairy decides to come in here after me," Timothy added as he walked into the showers.
Angel finally turned around and found a mound of clothes next to the doorway. She tried not to inhale as she added hers to the pile, and brought it to the washing machine. Taking in the array of knobs in front of her, Angel realized that she had never washed an article of clothing in her life. Still, how hard could it be? She could always use her powers anyway if she had to. Tossing his clothing into the machine, a pair of pants was left dangling as it caught on the edge. Untangling them, the buckle of Timothy's belt flashed inside.
"Oh crap," she hissed as she quickly pulled it out. A storage deck was something you definitely didn't put in the wash. For that matter, did people even wash belts?
Unlooping the belt, Angel was about to set it aside before a thought occurred to her. This might be her only chance to take a look inside Timothy's storage deck and find out just how much of her father's work he'd kept. The muted glow of her arm shined through her sleeve, but she hesitated.
Shuffling through his ECHO was one thing, this was… different. Angel never had to physically steal anything before and it was enough to make her hands shake. And what if it was for nothing? She'd betray Timothy's trust over her own paranoia for some random notes. And with less than three minutes, there was no way she could get away with him not knowing. Was it really worth ruining the trust the two of them had built?
Angel threaded the belt in her hands as she approached the open doorway and heard Timothy's whistles resounding inside the shower room. "H-hey, Timothy," she called out cautiously.
The whistling stopped. "Yeah, what's up?"
"About those notes you gave to Tannis today," Angel began, not knowing what to say. "Um, was there anything in there I should… know about?"
"What do you mean?" he said after a short pause.
"It's just that you acted kind of weird when you were talking to Tannis about them, and I was wondering if there was more to it."
"That?" his laughter echoed. "Nah, I was just distracted a little bit. I mean, c'mon, have you heard her talk? It's enough to put anyone to sleep."
"Oh, alright." Angel resigned herself to the fact that he wasn't going to tell her. She comforted herself with the thought that she'd at least given him the chance to explain himself. "Okay, well your stuff is in the wash so..." she trailed off. It was now or never. She grasped the belt tightly in her hands as she backed away from the doorway and left the locker room.
Angel's mind was racing as she walked out of the building. She needed somewhere to hide in case Timothy came looking for her. He'd know what she'd done the moment he realized the belt was missing and she only had a few minutes until he came after her. Not knowing where else to go, she made a beeline towards their truck.
Slipping into the passenger seat, her arm began to glow as she pulled up the contents of the storage deck. It only took a few seconds to find exactly what she was looking for. The stack of papers appeared in her hand, thicker than she'd been expecting. Flicking through it at random, she stopped at an image of her own face.
Then Angel began to read.
The stream of water coming out of the showerhead died down to a trickle, and Timothy let out a sigh that was half-contentment, half-disappointment. It felt like a lifetime since the last time he'd showered, but in reality, it had only been four days. Or had it? The long day/night cycle of Pandora had done a number on his sense of time. He wasn't even sure how long ago he and Angel had crashed here anymore. It's not like it mattered anyway. Everything from before was practically a different life at this point - for both of them.
Still, this life would be a hell of a lot better if the showers were a few minutes longer, or had some actual shampoo. The obnoxiously bright pink soap bars littered throughout the showers was the only thing available and they had all the consistency of sandpaper. No wonder Roland and most of the other people on this planet went for a bald look. Timothy briefly entertained the thought of joining them before a quick glance in a cracked mirror brought him back to sanity. He wasn't about to do anything that crazy.
With a final glance around the room, Timothy tucked his scratchy towel around his waist and hopped over a particularly cracked and moldy section of tiles on his way back to the changing room. Passing through the open doorway, he found Angel… nonexistent. Huh. He thought she would be a little more excited at the prospect of a shower. Shrugging off her absence, he picked through the last of his clean clothes and dressed himself. It wasn't snazzy, or even matching for that matter, but it would do until their clothes got out of the wash. Slipping his ECHO device into a breast pocket, he scanned the rest of his stuff for his belt and hoped Angel had enough sense not to throw it in the wash.
When digging through his duffel bag yielded no belt, Timothy stared down the washing machine. She wouldn't… would she? He knew storage decks were tough, but he wasn't exactly sure it could handle a spin-cycle. Crossing the room, he breathed a sigh of relief when he noted that the washing machine wasn't even running yet. Did Angel even know how to work a washing machine? He figured she probably left to go ask for directions rather than embarrass herself by asking him. Unnecessary, really. He wouldn't have teased her - much.
Shifting through the tangled clothes in search of his belt, he wondered vaguely whether or not her powers even worked on home appliances. I bet she never has problems with burnt toast. His amusement slowly died away as his belt continued to elude him. Impatient, he started pulling the clothes out onto the floor, but the metal flash of his belt buckle was nowhere to be seen. Where the hell did Angel put -
And Timothy's thoughts screeched to a halt.
She didn't. She wouldn't.
She did.
Suddenly, Angel's probing questions while he was showering took on whole new meaning. Anything I should know about? she'd had asked, and Timothy knew he should've seen this coming. Of course she wouldn't just believe his excuse, but what the hell was he supposed to say? Hey, sorry that I kept a bunch of your dad's extra notes from you, but I figured you probably didn't want to know about your dad's plan to turn you into a human battery for his 'Take Over the Planet' project. He just cared about you sooo much, huh?
Nearly tripping over the pile of clothes tangled at his feet, he stumbled outside and frantically scanned the courtyard. The townspeople were gathering around fires with their evening meals, but there was no Angel in sight. Picking a fire at random, Timothy jogged over and flagged down everyone's attention.
"Hey - hi. Any of you guys seen a girl go past here? She's about yay-high -" he held his hand at about shoulder height "- uh… pale skin, dark hair; kind of a jailbait look about her."
There was a general round of grunting and shaking heads, none useful. Timothy was just about to try his luck elsewhere, when he stumbled into Scooter.
"Oh hey, man," Scooter said. "I was sorta droppin' eaves and heard you was lookin' fer yer daughter? I saw 'er go by earlier - not like I was watchin' or nothin' -" Of course Scooter would know where she went. "- and she's out by yer truck. Seemed like she was inna bit of a hurry, though."
"Thanks," was all Timothy could think of to say, surprised that he'd meant it.
Not wanting to waste anymore time, the jogged away and hoped Angel hadn't read very far into the notes. After all, it had only been a few minutes, right? Slowing his steps as he came up to the back of the truck, his stomach dropped to his knees when he noticed the dashboard light illuminating the front seat. Heart pumping wildly, he braced himself for the worst and circled around to the passenger door.
"Uhhh… Angel?" he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Angel looked up from the stack of papers in her lap, tear-tracks running down her face, and gave him a look of pure hatred. "You asshole," she breathed out and angrily wiped at her eyes.
Okay, he deserved that one. "Look, I can explain -"
"Don't," she snapped. "I don't want to hear it. Go away."
"Hey, I know you're angry, but it's not safe outside the town. I can't just leave you out here."
"Fine," she said and her tattoos lit up as she slapped her hands against the dash. The truck immediately rumbled to life and threw itself into gear.
"Wait -" he called out, but as the truck began to lurch away, he latched onto the side and managed to throw himself into the bed. His shoulder collided painfully against the metal and he slid to the rear of the bed as Angel accelerated away from the town. Scrambling for purchase, he managed to get himself onto his hands and knees and crawl up to the back of the cab. "Angel, can we talk about this?" he shouted over the wind.
"I told you to go away," she yelled as they rounded a corner, and Timothy slid over to the left side.
"Little difficult at the moment!"
"That's your fault - everything's your fault."
Timothy cursed as Angel curb-checked a boulder and nearly bit through his tongue. It looked like even space voodoo didn't make up for a lack of driving experience. Figuring there was little point in shouting over the wind, he struggled to his knees and latched onto the frame. With a heave, he pulled himself head-first over the divider and into the cab. He ungracefully slid over the seat and face-planted into the footwell with a yelp. The engine hummed with a shift in gears and a pedal slapped him in the face.
Righting himself was a painfully awkward affair and the constant bumping of the road beneath him didn't make it any easier. He managed to get his elbow stuck in the seat, bumped the back of his head against the steering wheel, and somehow lost his pocket watch in the process. Finally sitting right side up, Timothy was unnerved to find the truck's steering wheel and pedals moving on their own as Angel drove. He didn't have long to marvel at this as the truck suddenly skidded to a stop with enough force to bounce him off the steering wheel.
"Ah - again? Seriously?" he coughed out, rubbing at his aching chest.
"Get. Out," she said emotionlessly.
"Please listen to me -"
The engine died out the instant Angel's hands left the dashboard and she stepped out of the truck. "I'm done listening to you."
Goddamn if this girl didn't inherit all of Jack's stubbornness. Timothy nearly tripped over the side of the truck bounding after her. "Where are you going?"
Angel refused to acknowledge him as she stalked off down the road towards the sunset. He kept himself a few paces behind her - far enough away from striking distance. His chest still ached from the steering wheel, and he didn't feel like taking any more abuse at the moment.
"C'mon, Angel. It's getting dark," he reasoned. "You've got nowhere to go and no supplies." Silence. "Angel, please. I don't have a death wish and I don't think you do either."
Angel's only response was the sound of her footfalls on the pavement. Fine then. If she didn't feel like talking, then he would. Besides, just because she wasn't listening didn't mean she couldn't hear him.
"Okay, look, I know I messed up," Timothy began. "I probably should've told you what Jack planned… well, before we even left the station. I just didn't know how. And later, after you told me about your past, I just… couldn't. I guess by the way you described your relationship with your father, it sounded like the only decent thing you had in your life. I… I couldn't take that from you. I'm sorry."
Angel's footsteps slowed to a stop and Timothy followed suit, keeping the space between them. She finally turned back to look at him and said, "And you didn't think that I deserved to know or that it was important to me? If this was on my dad's computer, then Tassiter knows about this. What if he plans to do the same thing? What if this is the reason why New Haven happened? I never would've gone there if I had known. And now… now I'll never be safe."
"Tassiter would've known regardless since I did a shitty job of getting rid of Jack's computer. That's on me, not you."
"I could've helped you," Angel ground out. "If you had just included me, none of this would've happened."
"What do you want from me?" Timothy threw his arms up in frustration. "It's over. I can't change the past, and it's not like it matters anymore. Jack's dead and I'm not going to let Tassiter put you in that - that thing."
"It matters to me," Angel brushed away an errant tear. "You weren't the one that spent most of your life as some kind of experiment! I've spent my whole life in a cell because he knew what was best for me. And why - just so he could strap me in a machine and use me as a human jumper-cable? What if that's what he'd always planned for me?"
Timothy watched helplessly as tears began to run freely down her face. She wasn't even trying to wipe them away at this point. He didn't know what to say. Maybe there was nothing he could say - but he had to try. "Angel, I don't think Jack planned -"
"But you don't know!" Angel tore out. "He could've let me out years ago. We could've been a real family. I could've had friends. I could've had a life. He took that from me. And for what -" she gestured at the ground "- for this? H-how could he care about this planet more than me?"
Angel's tirade broke down completely as sobs racked her body. Timothy stood in silent devastation as she seemed to physically shrink inward, her arms clutched tightly around herself. There wasn't a thing he could do to make this better. But she was hurting, and he would do anything to make it stop - so he did the only thing he knew.
He closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around her, tucking her under his chin. "I'm sorry," he began, but realized he had nothing else to say. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he murmured into her hair as he soothed the small of her back.
"I h-hate him," she hiccuped into his chest. Timothy's shirt was soaked through by now, but he didn't mind.
"I know."
A/N: So it's been a while, but we're back. Due to juggling two stories at once and a bit of snag with technology, this chapter took a bit longer than expected. Also, it's honestly been one of the more difficult ones we've had to write lately.
So, just one note here: ignore anything Tales From the Borderlands has to say about Atlas' involvement in the backstory of Pandora. We don't care for its retcons and we won't be using them. That's pretty much it.
Anyway, hope you enjoyed and we'll see ya next time.