Can you guys believe there isn't a story where the Uncle is a main character? I know he only has about three lines in the game, but still. I hope you don't mind that I didn't name him; he's only referred to as the "explorer" the the game and I don't want to ruin anything by just making up a name on the spot.
There are no mentions of Daxter's origins anywhere in any of the games. Therefore, my head canon is that he also lived with the explorer.
I hope you guys enjoy. 3
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He had heard of the destruction of Sandover village in a bar very far away from home while he argued with the bartender who refused to take his eco jewels as payment, insistent instead that they only took precursors orbs as currency.
Monsters made of metal, with dark eco blood savaged it, a burly man had said. No survivors, not even the children.
That tidbit of information made him rush back home as quickly as possible. Oh, if only he could channel eco and blue eco at that, he could've been home in hours, maybe a day at most. As it was, he could not channel eco and he was an old man with little money and even fewer options. It took him nearly five days of bumming rides and acting as pitiful as he could to buy sympathy in order to return to what was left of his home
And it was not much.
Treading through the destruction, he had to remind himself that there had once been houses that stood and people who breathed and laughed here. The houses were hole-ridden, some with burns that appeared to be of acid while others were gone entirely, a pile of ash and rubble where they once stood. The grass was blackened and curled over itself; the sky bleak, blanketed with clouds saturated with dark eco.
In all his time, it had never been so quiet. Not even the ocean of Sandover beach made a noise as it stayed unusually still.
His own house was lucky. It still stood, for the most part. Rafters had fallen, and doors were missing but he managed his way inside and began to sift through what remained of his measly possessions.
He tried not to think of the most obvious missing items as he pilfered through, throwing aside broken and burned souvenirs-some marred with mysterious bite marks- but he could not help himself.
Samos had told him that one day he and the boys would have to leave and most likely they would disappear as suddenly as they had appeared. He trusted Samos; he was an eco Sage, chosen by the Precursors and though he often became frustrated with Samos' cryptic comments on the subject, he trusted him.
Sometimes when he closed his eyes, he still saw the flash of purple streaking across the sky towards the citadel that loomed over everyone. And the cry of a lonely and confused child…
He bit his lip as he came across the remains of a blue shirt, scorched and smelling of dark eco, though he could not find any. His throat grew tight and the pressure behind his eyes grew.
No mayor, no bird-lady or farmer or Samos the Sage or Keira or…
Daxter or….
Or Jak.
He wasn't really the boys' uncle, but the child needed someone to care after him—he was too frightened to even speak- and Samos just wasn't the paternal type. Besides, he was already caring after the Daxter boy; poor child, orphaned by the lurkers and just ugly as sin, but the moment he first met Jak the two had been inseparable and were getting the trouble the next day.
In retrospect he realized he was not the person to care for two young, orphan boys who one day would have to leave for a destiny Samos would never speak of. He wasn't any better than the sage, always leaving from one adventure to the next, stopping by only to make sure the boys had enough to eat and clothes that fit the securely as puberty drew closer and they grew taller. Jak more so than Daxter, though he could never rightly deny Daxter's accusations of favoritism.
But the boys had only each other for most of their growing up and he felt sick as he looked over the destruction one again and the quiet grew louder and louder until it threatened to deafen him that he had not been there enough; He had never even heard Jak speak or make much of any noise except for the laughs he tried to smother as Daxter made a fool of himself. Which was a lot.
He clutched the tattered shirt to his chest, searching for anything of Daxter's to hold onto; though he merely tolerated Daxter for the most part, he had never been around to hate him as the other villagers seemed and he couldn't understand that. They were children. How could you hate children?
All he managed to find were a pair of googles that had once belonged to a much younger Daxter, with tangled hair and obnoxious teeth. The leather strap was ripped and melted at the ends and the glass shattered in one eye piece—but it was something and he clutched that to his chest as well, burying his face in the precious mementos that were all he had left of the children—the only proof of their existence in this world.
Samos had told him they all would have to leave one day and he couldn't say too much but they would all be safe.
That day had come and he hadn't been there for it even though he had prepared himself. He had been gone, on another adventure, left the boys with only a moment's notice and didn't think anything of it.
He was not their father or their uncle; they shared no blood and he had no real responsibilities to either of them.
But, he thought as he inhaled the scent of the items, searching for anything of the boys' buried underneath the dark eco that burned his nose; as it was, there was nothing.
He wished he could have at least said goodbye.
