Title: A Place to Stay the Night
Summary: Torn think's he's seen Jak's type before. The rebellious, vindictive teens with skeletons they left in their closets when they ran away from home. But Jak just wants a place to stay the night and Torn ends up not knowing the half of it.
Point of View: Torn
Rated: T for Teen or PG13 for language

EDIT: Thanks to various reviews, I've decided to continue this little study. Therefore most of my Jak oneshots will be posted under this fic. I hope you find these as interesting as I meant for them to be when I wrote them.

A/n: okay, so recently I've developed a craving for Jak related things. And Torn. I donno why but my appreciation and love for Torn as gone up a hundred percent. Before I couldn't stand him and now suddenly he's one of my favorite characters. Go figure. So yeah, this fic is for him, kinda. A tribute I guess. w/e. Enjoy

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Torn watched the young man across from him, his chin resting upon the thumbs of his entwined fingers, with obvious distain and slight curiosity as the boy tore hungrily into the meal that had just been set in front of him.

As well as his wondering of what he was doing here.

He had not called Jak for a mission. He had given no invitation for him and his flea-bitten rodent to return to Headquarters. There was no reason for the pair to be here.

At all.

"Why are you here?" Torn asked pointedly, speaking his mind straightforwardly as ever. The blonde didn't look up from his bowl.

"What, yah sick of us already, rail-road face?" the rat asked through a mouthful of week-old bread that it seemed quite taken with. "Come now, yer gonna hurt our feelings."

The skin where his eyebrows would have been twitched violently. Five minutes after first meeting that blasted animal and he had already known he would never, ever like it. The ex-Krimzon Guard had yet to figure out how it was able to speak, but he was tempted to find whoever taught it and hurt them.

"We don't have anywhere else to go," the boy explained, wiping his mouth. Jak handed him back the now empty bowl.

"That's not my problem," he replied, taking the bowl and setting it beside him after giving it a quick glace. He attempted to make eye contact with the teen, as he did with anyone he spoke with. Jak returned the look, the green-blonde brows pushing his eyes thin into a glare. The boy was challenging him, defying him as usual. He had already pinned the blonde as the normal rebellious youth. Probably ran away from home and decided all of his problems were the Baron's fault. Typical, annoying teenager. Then he saw something change behind blue orbs and Jak retreated his gaze, dropping down to glower at the table.

"You have plenty of beds," continued Jak, the sentence a statement with no hidden plea.

"I do," he agreed.

There was a pregnant pause in which Torn waited for the teen to ask for one of the beds and the teen waited for him to offer one. The rodent, still nibbling at his loaf, waited on the both of them, eyes flitting between him and the animal's partner. When it became apparent to the rat that neither were going to cave soon enough for his liking, it took it upon itself to speak for his partner.

"Just let us hang out for tonight, okay?" the animal asked. It put down the bread and crossed its scrawny arms. "We ain't got anywhere else to go and it's not like we're askin' yah for a kidney or nothin'."

"I'm no baby-sitter," he replied simply. This seemed to upset Jak as the young man shot from his chair and slammed his hands upon the table.

"We're not children," the blonde spat. As full of uncontrolled rage as ever, he observed absently before rising to his feet as well.

"Yes, you are," he said back. Enough anger bled from the teen's face to show his surprise at Torn's reply. "What are you, seventeen? Eighteen?" he continued, sharply. "You're skilled, I'll give you that, but you're still a snot-nosed kid if I've ever seen one. I appreciate your help but when I don't need it I don't want you around." He waved his hand for the boy to leave. "Go back home to your mommy."

"I don't have one, dammit!" Jak yelled, slamming his fist onto the table. "The closest thing I've had in this stupid dimension is that goddamn prison!" The blonde gave the table a shove before spinning around and storming for the door. "Screw this!" the younger elf threw over his shoulder as his mangy friend hopped from the table to follow at his heels.

"Wait a second!" Torn cried, rushing after him. Grabbing onto the teen's broad shoulder, he forced the other elf around to face him. He was met with an angry glare and for a moment he couldn't return it. Truth be told, he was honest to Mar surprised. And he damn well wanted some answers. "What the hell were you doing in the Baron's prison?" he demanded. Jak gave an angry snort as he slapped his hand away.

"What the hell do you care?" he hissed. "I didn't do anything to deserve it. He just threw me in it for the hell of it." The teen bared what was surprisingly resembled a pair of fangs and stepped threateningly closer to the tattooed man, trying to intimidate him. "Do you wanna see what he did to me in there, Torn?" Jak asked through his teeth. "It's not pretty."

For a moment Torn simply glared down into the equally intense eye of the teen, watching the blue of his irises become progressively darker and blacker. Absently he noticed the lack of comments from the boy's rat. Then he shifted his weight and crossed his arms.

"So, you're the only survivor of that madman's 'Dark Warrior' Program," he stated. The teen nodded, anger continuing to stay firm. Again, their eyes locked and both pushed at one another, waiting for the other to lose just an inch. Then he, as indifferent as always, turned around and headed back for his table. "You can stay the night," he said. Once at his table, he forced his attention on the maps across it, saying nothing else about the matter.

Across the room, the raw emotion bled from the blonde and into the floor. Jak muttered a quiet, "Thank you," to the ground then crawled into the nearest bunk and promptly fell asleep. His rodent, on the other hand, continued to stare at Torn for the rest of the night, strangely silent.

Keeping good to his unspoken word, Jak and his companion were gone by morning. After that night, they did not return to the Underground unless summoned. Torn never knew if they found lodging elsewhere or if they simply slept upon the streets.

Personally, he told himself he didn't care.