A/N: Fear of the dark is something I imagine Jak suffering from due to his time in prison.
"It's so good to sleep in a bed for a change!" The Ottsel almost cheered, as he and his grumpier than usual blonde friend entered the Underground hideout, and headed towards a set of bunk beds – well-deserved after a particularly perilous mission in Dead Town.
Jak chose the top bunk for a change, wanting a higher place tonight - he needed the reminder of the olden days, riding on Keira's A-Grav zoomer, soaring through the Mountain Pass towards the Red Sage's laboratory in Volcanic Crater, fighting to save the world from the Dark Eco-infected Gol and Maia, and their Lurker slaves.
For once, Daxter didn't argue about being stuck on the bottom bed, which would have been perceived as strange behaviour to anyone who didn't intimately know the pair. He said nothing, but knew. After all, a decade's partnership meant there was little that could be hidden from one another.
Seeing that his friend had settled down, Orange Lightning approached the nearby lamp. Yet, as soon as his fingers hovered over the 'off' switch, the blonde's voice rose in protest.
"Leave it on." The words were whispered, although emerged more as a whimper. There was no telling how far his mind would twist the shadows – the place those who broke innocent men lurked, offering smiles in the light and knives in the darkness. He had encountered such men for the past two years, and far more intimately than he ever would have liked.
The Ottsel let out a soft breath, truly saddened by what happened to his companion. He remained a little unsure of what went on in Jak's mind these days, but understood that things had been bad in the Fortress. And the blonde clearly wasn't going to get over the trauma anytime soon. But that didn't matter. However long it took, Daxter would be there.
So, he retreated from the lamp, offered his friend a light pat on the shoulder as a wordless goodnight, hopping onto the lower bunk and curling into the rough, itchy woollen blankets that were tonight a Godsend, and tried to sleep off the day's events.
Jak stared at the lamp for some time, until he felt salt water prick his eyes, then pressed his face into the pillow to muffle the anguished sounds ripping from his vocal chords.
All too soon, however, the sobs diminished, leaving him feeling raw and empty, but stronger for it. The darkness may have damaged him, but he was not yet broken.
As long as he sought the light, he knew there was some hope for himself.