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I know you didn't. You lost control, fog got your hunger up, instinct took over, it...it happens. These things happen.

[Jack very awkwardly pats at Tim's clutching hands. Yeah, he needs a bath. Badly. And probably some pretty heavy tranquilizers. There's some in the medicine cabinet, left over from before Jack started changing. He knew he kept that stuff around for a reason.]

It's fucked up. It's really fucked up, Tim. But you're gonna be okay. Come on, I'm gonna take care of you.

[He tries to gently pull Tim up to his feet - hooves? - and get him moving. Maybe if he can just get Tim moving it'll be easier to get him into the bathroom and calmed down. He really needs to get Tim calmed down, he doesn't like all this messy emotion just pouring out everywhere.]

[Well, Jack, sucks to be you, because there's going to be a lot of messy emotion spilling out everywhere from this kid. He's traumatized and covered in blood and just ate somebody, there's no way that this wouldn't end in tears and deep psychological scars.]

[Jack pulls on him and Tim tries to get his feet back underneath him; he makes it on the second try, gets himself up even if he doesn't feel steady at all. He sways into Jack and his metal chassis isn't exactly the most comforting thing to lean against, but he'll really take what he can get at this point.]

[The important part is accomplished, though-- Tim's up and he can move by his own power, so it's not like Jack has to try to lift him or just leave him on the floor or something. And he'll follow wherever Jack leads him, it's not like he's in a good enough place mentally-speaking to try to argue with him.]

Hey, there we go!

[Jack's just going to keep talking, because he'd rather hear his own semi-comforting patter than silence and the ugly sounds Tim is apparently capable of making.]

[He does put his arm around Tim, to support him and guide him and try and give him some traditional physical comfort.]

Alright, we're gonna get you into the bathroom - I'm gonna let you use my master bath, with the huge ass tub I can't use anymore. We're gonna get you out of these dirty clothes, we're gonna get you cleaned up, I'm gonna give you a little something to help you settle down...it's really gonna be fine.

[Ignoring that Tim's going to have to do this whole thing again, only under his own control and power...well, Jack thinks he's got a way he can at least help with that. It's not like he eats meat, he has to get rid of his corpses. Tim can just have'em! Avoid this whole trauma altogether.]

[He ushers Tim up to the master bathroom, which is much more impressive than the downstairs bathroom, and urges him to sit on the little padded bench under the window and next to the bath itself.]

I promise you'll feel better in the morning. Everything always looks a little better in the morning.

[Jack's arm around him is kind of like getting hugged by rebar, but Tim would take just about whatever comfort he could get at this point. He was a mess, covered in gore and traumatized from the nightmare that he'd woken up to and he just... really needed someone else to make decisions for a while. He could't handle the actual mess that is everything in his head right now and also make decisions.]

[Tim follows him upstairs and through the master bedroom, into the master bath-- sits where he's put, next to the tub. He shakes and the tears are cutting tracks through the blood on his face and he's shaking his head a little as though saying no to something, like he could just say no enough times to this whole situation and that would make it go away.]

[At least he's not making those terrible, wounded animal sounds anymore, but the sight of silent tears rolling down his cheeks might not be all that much better.]

[This whole thing is really uncomfortable. It's not like Tim is ever the life of the party, but this...this is just sad. That awkward sort of embarrassing sad that Jack doesn't like to look at. The dude's a mess. He might be broken. Like really broken, this is it, Jack now has a quietly sobbing slab of hamburger for a roommate.]

[Why does this stuff keep happening to him?]

Alright, come on. You can pull yourself together, big guy. And ya gotta for like two minutes, 'cause I got to go and get some clean clothes for you. So just...sit here. Everything's cool.

[Should he hide any sharp things lying around? Nah, Tim doesn't seem mobile enough to be a threat to himself. Jack gets the bath running and gives him one last careful look before exiting to his bedroom. Screw it, Tim can wear his clothes tonight, he doesn't feel like rummaging through his roommate's stuff. He's got an over-sized pair of sweatpants and a very roomy bathrobe that should do the trick. And won't require much effort on his part to grab before returning to the bathroom.]

Alright! Look at this, we got clean clothes for ya buddy! And I'm gonna grab a little something outta the old medicine chest here...can ya swallow pills? Is that gonna be doable right now?

[Good to know that Jack was still as terrible at empathy as ever; it had been like half an hour since Tim literally ate a person in a horrible blood hunger but apparently that was too long to be freaked out. Apparently he should have this traumatizing shit sorted out in the time that it takes to deliver a pizza, according to Jack.]

[Tim looks up at Jack while he... well, at least he's going to make progress on getting Tim out of his bloodstained clothes, which is a step in the right direction. It's not a big step, and it's not exactly gracefully taken, but it's a step. He nods and wipes at his face with his wrist. It isn't terrible effective.]

[In the time that Jack's gone, Tim manages to pull off his shirt, and uses that to clean off his face a little better. It's already ruined, so what's a little more blood? There are even sticky red patches left on his chest from where the blood had soaked all the way through the fabric.]

[Jack bustles when he comes back with clean clothes, asking about pills and Tim... doesn't really like the idea of taking mysterious pills that Jack gives to him, but he also super doesn't want to be conscious right now. The desire for unconsciousness is greater.]

I, yeah, I- I think so.

[He can talk, at least, even if his voice is shaky and sometimes interrupted by hiccups.]

Okay, good. Trust me, they'll help. They're just some tranquilizers, I grabbed'em a while ago for changes.

[Jack rummages around a minute and fills a glass with some water for his roommate. The dude really looks rough, all messed up and bloody...it'd be hot, honestly, if it weren't for all the context. That pretty much robbed any thrill from seeing Tim shirtless and bloody. It's not sexy, it's just sad and uncomfortable.]

[Which...eh, probably not a bad thing, all considered. This doesn't need to get weird. That kind of weird.]

Here ya go. Take those, we'll finish getting you undressed, get ya in the bath....And...okay, look, I know, with us, there's some...ya know. But this? This is just me helping ya out cuz ya need it. It's not like you can bathe yourself right now, and I'm pretty sure you don't want me calling anybody for help, cuz I'm just gonna call Rick. So keep that in mind when we're getting your pants off.

[The last thing they need is his freaked out, trauma-ravaged roommate getting the wrong idea. He's difficult enough to deal with as he is.]

[Tim looks at the pills in his hand for a moment or two, then puts them in his mouth and swallows them with a gulp of water. It helps to wash the coppery taste out of his mouth, at least, which is a pretty good bonus.]

[Then Jack says... all that, that whole spiel acknowledging the one-sided thing that Jack has about him, his incredible thirst for fucking a clone of himself. There's something about it that's just... horribly, awfully hilarious, better than about ninety percent of the jokes that Jack makes on a regular basis. It's just-- he's sitting here, bloody and disheveled and his face tear-tracked, and Jack's talking about wanting to fuck him? Aside from the fact that it would be super fucked up to even make a move on him right now, he has to be the actual least sexy thing on this stupid monster peninsula.]

[Tim laughs, but there's a sharp, hysterical edge to it.]

Oh, god. Wow, Jack, seriously? That's like... that's the last thing I'm thinking about right now. God.

Well yeah, I'd hope so! Doesn't change the fact that you're not exactly in your right mind and I'm about to unbutton your pants. I can see how that, from where you're sitting right now all messed up and crap, could look creepy and like I was trying to do something else. I've seen Law and Order, I know what confused trauma victims can do. I am trying to make sure you don't freak out and punch me or kick me or anything like that. And...ya know. Reassure you that nothing weird is about to happen to ya.

But hey, at least I made ya laugh!

[That's...that's a slight improvement, really. Jack is gonna take any improvement to the mindless crying or anything like that. He's just trying to protect himself here. And, in his own very awkward way, make Tim feel more relaxed. He is making an effort here, geeze. Tim could show some appreciation! He's bending over backwards to help!]

[Why are people always so ungrateful?]

Alright, come on, stand up so we can do this. We gotta be careful, though, no sloshing water or shit when we get you in the bath. I short circuit in my bathroom and we're both screwed.

I'm not going to punch you? And I can, I can get my own pants off.

[He'd gotten past the weeping phase and had moved into... he didn't know? Numb acceptance? Being too emotionally exhausted to react anymore? Who knows, god, it's fine, he'll tell all this to his therapist once he has enough money to actually afford one.]

I'm just gonna need help getting, like, into the tub, I don't have good traction anymore with the, the hooves?

[Okay, Tim, okay. Stand up, get your pants off, get in the tub. You can do this. It's weird, super weird to strip off his clothes in front of Jack, but technically the guy's seen all this before? His hands are still shaky so the button and the zipper on his pants are kind of hard to get, but he manages after a few tries. Then, well. He doesn't want to just stand around bareass naked, so it's time to get in the fucking tub ~~Shinji~~.]

Well I dunno! This all new territory for us both, Timberline. I've never dealt with this kind of trauma, I dunno what kind of animal instincts you got now.

[Well excuse him for trying to be considerate, sheesh. But he stands back and let's Tim handle the depantsing, and his eyes don't change their light intensity nor does his head tip down in any way. Look how polite he's being! He's not even sneaking a peek!]

[...not that he really needs to, but still. He's not, and he hopes that's appreciated.]

Yeah, that's fine. Here, put an arm over my shoulder, it's bath time for Bonzo.

[If Tim's hooves slip and he drags them both into the bath...well, they'll both probably get electrocuted so Jack doesn't have to do anything.]

[Tim puts an arm around Jack's shoulders and steps into the big tub, careful so that he doesn't slip. He doesn't know exactly what would happen if Jack got soaked, but he has the general understanding that water and electronics don't mix, so it couldn't be anything good. All the more incentive to, you know, exercise caution and not get them both electrocuted. That would just be the perfect way to end this horrible, awful evening-- death by wet Jack.]

[Getting down into the tub is a little hairy, just because hooves and porcelain don't mix well, but he gets his stupid half-cow ass into the water with minimal splashing. That's good, that's an accomplishment, Tim's taking all of this one baby step at a time.]

[Now waist-deep in water, Tim pulls his legs up towards his chest and wraps his arms around them, rests his forehead on his knees. Just give him a second, okay, he needs to just. Just sit here for a bit.]

...How often am I gonna have to do this?

[An important question. If he's going to have to keep traumatizing himself, he might as well at least know how many times a month he'll have to do it.]

[This is a whole other kind of awkward. Jack has been in this kind of position before, sure, but not with a six foot cow man. It's cumbersome and he's glad that he's made of sturdy metal so Tim doesn't knock him over.]

[But he finally gets the other guy settled, and takes a seat on the bathroom bench. He figures Tim can probably actually bathe himself, but he did take some drugs, so...best to hang around, plus he'll have to help him out of the tub and into bed.]

[And hey, look, something he can actually help with!]

Uh...usually it's about once a week, but! I got some good news for you! You don't have to actually kill anybody to eat them ever again. I'm an energatarian or whatever now, I have a whole body leftover. Usually I dump'em with the Soup Kitchen, but we can just go out together and I'll do the messy part.

[That's... that's actually a helpful thing that Jack just offered to him. Granted, the fact that Jack goes out and, like, deep fries some poor schmuck to eat their delicious brain energy or whatever is still deeply gross, but it meant at least that fewer people would have to be killed to satisfy both of their needs. Two for the price of one or whatever.]

[Tim would just have to go out and hunt with Jack. Hunt... real, live people.]

I... oh. [It's probably the best solution that he's going to get.] That would... I guess that would be a better way to do it?

[And he doesn't have to get his hands dirty with the actual killing part.]

But I don't know if I can do the, the. Cutting up?

It's okay, Tim, I do know. You'd get two minutes into it and go be sick in the yard. You're a tough dude and you can kill bandits like there's no tomorrow, but butchering a human body is pretty different. There was a dude who'd do it, but he's not around anymore so I guess that's a new hobby I'm picking up.

[Jack, unlike his quasi-doppelganger, is perfectly capable of dismembering and chopping up a human body. And it's just easier, some part of his brain is pointing out to him. The dude needs to eat, he's useless to Jack if he's a starving, rage-filled feral cow man.]

[Besides. The more Jack takes care of and provides for Tim, the more leverage he has. It's not like back home where he's just the highest authority.]

Ya know you're damn friggin lucky I'm actually your friend. Because let's be honest here, Tim, I enjoy some good bloody violence as much as the next space CEO, but butchering and preparing a human body for food...

Holy hell, I dunno even know how to actually do that, I never hung around and watched Psychos make dinner. I am gonna have to learn how to do that.

[The things he does for friendship. What would Tim do without him? Seriously. Poor guy would be out on the street, gobbling up stray orphans or some shit if he didn't have Jack to look after him...]

[It's not as though he could really argue that point with Jack-- he's not really cut out for the whole cannibalism thing. There's a big difference between shooting someone and taking them apart piece by piece; Tim can do the former but the latter would turn his stomach. Just the idea of having to chop someone up into stew meat or something made him feel kind of queasy.]

[And Jack just... takes control. Tim can't do it so Jack says that he will, in a way that doesn't really allow for argument. He's almost relieved, because, well, what would he have done? Cried and vomited his way through butchering somebody's corpse? Maybe he would've gotten used to it eventually, the same way that he got used to shooting bandits, but they really couldn't just let him run around in a horrible blood hunger every few weeks until he could get desensitized enough.]

I.

[It wouldn't have been unreasonable for Jack to say that Tim was on his own for this one. But he isn't, he's picking up the slack for his body double, because... Tim's not entirely sure why? He'd be too much trouble if he kept going off the deep end? To use as leverage? If it hadn't been Jack, he might have thought it was because he didn't want Tim to suffer, but it's Jack. The likely answer is some combination of the above, plus a few more things he hasn't thought of.]

Thanks, Jack. [What else do you say? Regardless of his motivations, he's offering to chop up a body for him. That's a hell of a favor.] And, um. I'm... sorry? About all of this.

[Not that it's exactly his fault, either, he didn't ask for this.]

Yeah, well...

[Jack shrugs. He looks out the window, expression as fixed and unreadable as it always is.]

Monster life. It's pretty damn fucked up. We lived fucked up lives now in a supremely fucked up place. And far as I can see, we're stuck with it. And look, I get it. This friendship? It's circumstantial. We weren't stuck here together, it's not like we'd be actual friends back home. We couldn't be!

[Part of the whole body double set up. They couldn't exactly hang out together much or anything. Jack liked Tim, sure, but they were employee and boss, body double and body original, they weren't gonna be going out to bars or watching bad sitcom marathons because it's too stormy to leave the house. That's all because of the situation they're in, and that's fine. That's how most people in college make their best friends - they're just stuck together.]

[But there's more than that. Tim's the only other bit of Jack's former life that's left. This one guy, out of a whole empire and about half a century of life. This currently traumatized, kind of boring, giant bullman is all that remains. And that does mean something to Jack, if maybe not what it should]

But...we're all we got left of home. And I give a shit what happens to you. So I'm not gonna say this whole Sweeney Todd bullshit adventure we're embarking on together is fine, but it's a thing we gotta deal with and I'm gonna deal with it. You know I take care of my people, Tim. Even in hell, I'm gonna take care of ya.

[Jack takes care of his people, sure-- up until the second they stop being useful, or the second he suspects that they might betray him. Then Jack turns on them like a cobra, does unto others before they can do unto him. Even if there was never going to be an unto him.]

[But what choice does Tim have? A deal with Jack is just a deal with the devil dressed up in too many layers, and Tim's only choice is to sign on the dotted line. Not just because he doesn't think that he has the stomach to go and butcher his own corpse, but also because he needs Jack to keep trusting him. Jack only trusts the people that he's certain are in his pocket.]

Yeah, I know, Jack.

[He reaches for a washcloth to start actually doing the washing thing. In the ten or so minutes since he'd taken those pills, he's kind of started to... feel better? Less panicky. Maybe whatever Jack gave him actually was useful.]

I just... I wish neither of us had to do this. I don't want to have to do this.

[He doesn't want to have to eat people like some awful psycho. Bandits eat people, normal people don't do that kind of thing.]

I'd thought, since it was taking so long...

[He'd thought that it wouldn't happen to him. That he'd lucked out for once in his life and the awful monster hunger cup had passed him over.]

Wanna know a secret, Tim? Every single one of us thinks 'not me'. One of the first pieces of advice anyone gave me here was 'you're not special, don't put it off, it'll be worse'. I didn't even say anything to prompt that, it's just...I dunno, how the brain works, I guess. No idea if this makes ya feel better at all, but it's not like you're the first person to do this. From what I can tell? Happens a lot.

[Of course he hadn't needed that advice, he was trying out his feeding method before the hunger even hit.]

[Jack moves, bending and reaching to fish around under the sink for one of the random packs of cigarettes lying around. He can't smoke, but he can still go through the motions. The lighting of it, the holding of it, all that stuff. It's soothing.]

[He lights one and then sets the pack and a book of matches within Tim's reach, in case he wants one.]

Consider it your final initiation into monsterdom. Like a really fucked up graduation. It's over, done, you don't have to deal with it again. You're gonna sleep well tonight, you're gonna get up tomorrow, and you're gonna feel a little better. Next day, little more better. Etcetera, etcetera.

[It doesn't really make him feel all that much better, because, well... Korra had told him. She'd told him not to try to resist the hunger, and he'd... well, he hadn't intentionally tried to? He just hadn't recognized it for what it was until it was too late to stop.]

[Tim washes his face to avoid having to actually make some kind of appropriate response to everything that Jack has said. He doesn't really know what the appropriate response is even supposed to be to this? Right now, he feels... calm, but fake-calm-- he knows he shouldn't be, he should still be an emotional mess, but it's all been kind of put behind a glass wall. Untouchable. It's probably the drugs kicking in.]

That's it? It's that simple?

[Tim takes the pack and taps out a cigarette, puts it between his lips; it's not easy to strike matches with wet fingers but he manages.]

I just have to get up tomorrow morning and not think about it?

Ya know it's funny...I keep forgetting you really haven't been through much serious trauma before. Elpis, yeah, shit went bad, but...

[But what the hell serious, life altering trauma has Tim been through up till now? Just the monster thing, and really, that's not as traumatic as Jack had thought it would be. He hasn't heard of anyone getting mentally messed up from changing.]

[But going nuts and ripping some poor civilian apart with your teeth? And he's guessing horns and maybe there was some curb stomping. And then actually eating a human being without being able to control yourself? Yeah, that's gotta be in the top five for traumatic experiences.]

[He's not sure why that whole train of thought pops into his head - everybody gets trauma-ed at some point, so what? Why is it suddenly some sort of important consideration? His brain just does this sometimes, the weird thoughts.]

But yeah, that's...that's how ya get 'better'. Each day sucks a little bit less and the thing that messed ya up seems a little farther removed from you and then one day you'll wake up and won't think of it at all, not even once.

Of course then at some point, when ya least expect it, you'll see or hear something and it'll bring it all back and it'll hurt worse for some unfathomable reason....

[He's helping!]

[No serious trauma, sure. Tim isn't surprised that Jack doesn't consider the Jackification surgeries to be traumatic-- why would they be, right? They only involved dozens of hours of unanesthetized, invasive procedures that changed him at the most basic level. He would think that it was fine, that every minute of it was worth it for the end result of being Jack.]

[But this whole cannibalism thing was even on a different level from that. He'd felt the same sort of helplessness while he'd been strapped, paralyzed, onto an operating table, but he hadn't done anything horrible. The operations were horrors that were inflicted on him unwillingly; this was horror perpetrated by his own hands.]

It'll be hard not to think about eating people if I have to do it every week.

[He'll just have to get right on that whole... repression thing. But it was okay, it was fine, he'd learned how to just cry on the inside rather than the outside.]

I know. But it won't look like people when you eat it, so just try not to think about it. You shove something down long enough....

[Jack just sort of trails off with a shrug. You tramp that shit down and you ignore it and eventually you can go for weeks or months forgetting about it entirely. And sure, it pops up and fucks you up sometimes, but you deal with it quietly behind closed doors like a god damn adult.]

[It's a hell of a lot better than dwelling on it and getting all weepy and torn up about it. That doesn't do any good.]

You're gonna be fine, Tim. Good night's sleep'll do ya a world of good. World of good!

[Repression, that's fine. That's his usual method for dealing with, like, emotional trauma, just pack it all up in a little box and bury it somewhere in his brain and leave it there until he dies. It's worked so far! This is Fine.]

[The drugs are definitely starting to kick in now, though, to the point where he's definitely aware of the fact that he's drugged, just... without the ability to give a fuck. It's like his whole brain is out-of-focus, everything hazed over like a gaussian blur. It makes all the shitty, pointy edges of his brain, the ones that would be making him freak out right now, rounded and smooth.]

I... yeah. I think sleep sounds like a good idea?

[The blood is cleaned off of him and it had been an awful night. Things would seem less shitty in the morning. It's a good thing that Jack had hung around to help him out of the tub, though; he isn't going to be all that steady on his feet after the dose he'd taken.]

Could you, um. Help me out?

Yeah, that's one of the reasons I'm still here, buddy. Gonna get ya out and help ya into bed. It's not like you're in any shape to do it by yourself.

[Jack stands and offers an arm to his former-double. He's not just gonna leave the guy to fend for himself now. Guy's all doped up on top of traumatized, he can't handle much of anything on his own right now.]

[And they'll both remember this, the time Jack spent his night tending to Tim when Tim needed it.]

[Jack will make sure they do.]

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WELCOME TO YOUR PRIVATE CHANNEL, HANDSOME JACK. FOR SECURE COMMUNICATION, USE 021.07.222.57 * H.Jack69 has joined 021.07.222.57 <USERNAME> First sentence of message. <BANNED USER> SCREENED MESSAGE. UNSCREEN? Y/N -- sample for when you ban someone <USERNAME> First sentence of message. <USERNAME>** First sentence of message.