Author's Notes: I wrote this piece in February of this year, but I felt like giving it a rewrite so I could post it on my AO3 account, too!
I couldn't help myself but write some angst about Jak and his transformation into his side. I love me some angst, and this kind of angst in particular is my absolute favorite.
Also, Monster by Stream of Passion is a wonderful song by a wonderful band. That whole CD, A War of Our Own, actually reminds me a lot of Jak II. I was also replaying the game when I first got that CD, and I have a habit of associating things like that. But really, a ton of the songs fit with the game, so if you need some good tunes, I highly recommend the band!
Enjoy!
Pain was prominent whenever Dark Eco grabbed a hold of him and warped his very being into that of a monster.
A monster.
That's what he was, wasn't he?
Daxter would never call him that. The little Ottsel only saw him as Jak, as his best friend, and not as a twisted, Eco-infused creature that only had one mode—kill.
He could count on one hand just how many people wouldn't call him that, but he knew that so many more saw a demon hiding under his skin waiting to crawl out and strike.
It was like having a ticking time bomb sitting in his gut. It was hard to control sometimes, and sometimes he just didn't care to control it, but he hated it all the same. It brought pain, and fear, and destruction, and after the Eco temporarily dried out, it brought exhaustion.
Panic and desperation set his dark half off. A need to survive and protect himself, and the fear of being cornered and trapped, again, fueled the darkness within him. It gave him an escape route, a temporary solution to the problem so he could flee. Although escape was usually the number one priority, what Jak feared the most was the insatiable thirst he had for devouring everything in his path on his way to freedom. He tore down a number of Krimzon Guards in his attempts of escape, and although they caused it by forcing him into a corner, into a situation where panic flared and instincts kicked in, he always felt terrible by the end of the dark spell. Terrible and guilty, really, even though those KG wouldn't hesitate to kill him if they had the chance, so why should Jak show mercy?
Kill or be killed, right?
That time he spent in the Baron's prison haunted him every day, and it was clear that Jak was not the same person he used to be.
Now was no different as he and Daxter tried to outrun the guards on a Zoomer, a dull brown thing that Jak was pushing to its limits, but a few too many smacks into the sides of buildings and scrapes along other vehicles ultimately did the trick. The thing started to smoke, so Jak dropped into the lowest zone and bailed, tucking and rolling into an upright position and sending the vehicle into one of the bulky HellCats that was attempting to cut them off.
"Smooth, big guy, real smooth." Daxter laughed in his ear, holding on to Jak's shoulder plate for dear life as the elf took off into a run.
Fleeing from the guards of Haven was usually a simply task. After enough time of remaining out of sight, the lazy bastards gave up and stopped searching. However, now was no such time. The red-armored guards were hot on their tails and closing in fast, and Jak had taken a wrong turn and managed to get them caught in an alley. A building on either side of them and a wall of bodies closing in on both ends. Jak could feel a cold sweat breaking out on his forehead, and his chest heaved as the panic began to set in.
The next thirty seconds was a blur. What was once tanned skin now a pale comparison with obsidian claws that struck a guard quick as lightning. Hair that matched the sun now a sickly white, parted by demonic horns protruding from his skull.
Twirling, dashing, kicking, howling—his darkened state wasted not a second as he took down each guard that dared bar his path. Mind focused on a single factor, the Eco beast roared and suddenly leapt into the air. When he crashed back down, a wave violet energy rippled from the impact, sending every guard, citizen, and vehicle within thirty feet flying backwards.
The final burst of energy had done it. This was the exhaustion previously mentioned, the tiredness in his bones that drained him of everything. He slowly reverted to his normal self, staggering on his feet as the suddenness of being back in complete control returned to him. He was always 'in control,' but in certain situations, his instincts simply did the work for him.
"That's one way to clear a path." Daxter patted Jak on his shoulder, the part not covered with the metal plate, and smiled when his gaze was met. "Let's go, big guy. I know yer tired. There's a bunk waitin' for us at the Underground, I'm sure."
Lucky for them, an unmanned Zoomer waited just at the other end of the alley. Hopping onto it with more grace than he felt, Jak quickly hotwired the machine and fired it up, making way for the Underground headquarters at an unnaturally tame pace.
It was once inside the building that Jak reverted to his mute days. He ignored whatever Torn was saying, which, judging by the commotion coming from his shoulder, wasn't anything good anyway, and simply focused on the wall just behind the former KG.
An orange paw suddenly interrupted his vision, and Jak was brought back to real time by that nasally, yet comforting, voice.
"With a little fight, I singlehandedly managed to get us the night off." Daxter was grinning from ear-to-ear, but from the lack of expression on Jak's face, that smile faltered. The Ottsel opened his mouth to say something when Torn interrupted.
"Not much of a fight, rat. Jak's of no use to me looking like that." Torn gestured to the blond with a scowl. "Get out of my sight before I change my mind about letting you stay here."
Jak met Torn's gaze with a steady glare before Daxter started tugging on his ear to get the blond to move. He complied and made his way to where the bunks were located, near the entrance of the hideout, and sat down with a huff. He rested his elbows on his knees and stared at the red staining his hands, wiping the crud off and onto his equally stained shirt in an attempt to clean them. Now that he was sitting for the what felt like the first time in a year, he could really feel just how tired he was.
"What's with ya, Jak? You've been quieter than usual all day, and that's sayin' a lot." Daxter laughed softly, jumping to stand on the thin mattress of the bunk and looking at the other.
Jak looked at his friend for a long moment, collecting his thoughts, before he sighed and slumped his shoulders. "There's a lot on my mind, is all."
"Wanna talk about it?" Daxter was suddenly serious, and it surprised Jak a great deal that he hadn't cracked a joke about talking about their feelings. He expected that sort of reaction, but he supposed that he should have given Dax more credit.
"I—" Jak started, but the words died on his tongue before they even had a chance to form. He swallowed and straightened his shoulders instead. "Later." He started removing his boots and pieces of armor, getting ready to settle down for a much-needed nap.
Daxter took a second to respond, but respected Jak's stance and nodded in agreement. "Sure thing, Buddy."