Note: I'm not really going to bother with much of an intro here, except for the fact I don't own Jak and Daxter, or any of the characters as such. I'm just using them for fun. This idea needs to be fresh in my mind for it to work, so I'm going to shut up and just get right to it.
Jak shot straight up on his bunk with a screech. Torn's eyes jerked up from his paperwork. Jak's blue eyes were wide and fearful as he looked around. "Jak?" Torn asked concernedly. "Ahh!" Jak was too frightened to even form proper sentences. "Jak? You need medical attention over there?" Torn asked. "Nightmare…Dark…Told me lies…. So many lies…" Jak mumbled. Torn stood up, popped his back, and walked over, kneeling down next to Jak's bunk. He plunked his hand on Jak's forehead. "Well, you ain't running a fever." Jak shuddered at the contact and pulled himself away. Torn sighed. "Listen man, why don't you take some time off? You've been real jumpy lately, and I can't have my best guy running around like a headless chicken in fear of his own shadow. Just, keep here for a week. I won't give you any missions; I won't ask you to do anything. Just chill out here for a while, okay?" Jak nodded. "It's just, you've been freaking out lately, you haven't been sleeping well, your appetite has drained to the point that Samos thinks you're anorexic. Sig says you've been shooting at anything with a pulse, and these nightmares of yours are gonna kill you if you don't get some sleep soon. Okay?" Jak nodded quickly, not trusting his mouth to say anything, lest the dark beast rear its ugly head and cause him to say something he'll soon regret. "Jak, come on." Torn beckoned Jak to stand up and come with him. Jak stood up shakily, and pulled on his shirt. He followed Torn into the small kitchen, where Torn sat him down on a chair and handed him a cup of coffee. Jak's hands shook as he took it and took a sip. "You wanna talk about this nightmare of yours, Jak? Might make you feel better." Torn said gruffly. Jak nodded. "I was in this dark, cold room. The walls were black, everything was black. And the darkness inside me, you've seen it, right? That horrible darkness that escapes when I get mad." Torn nodded. "Well, it was sitting in the corner staring at me and then it grinned all huge and evil. It was just me and him in this room—"
" ' Him and I'." Torn corrected Jak's grammar. Torn was a stickler for grammar, and it caused him to correct people a lot. "Yeah, uh, him and I in this room and he started telling all these lies about how no body here really loves me and how I'm just another tool for the Underground, and how I'd be better off falling in a lake where no one would find me. Then he got closer and closer until the darkness engulfed me in itself and I was drowning in his words. Then I woke up." Torn sighed and took a sip of his coffee. Jak looked down at the floor embarrassedly. "Hey, Jak. No need to look like a scolded child. It's normal for nightmares. What isn't normal is a part of your own brain lying to you in the dead of night." Torn said, in his normal gruff manner. "So it was lying then? I'm not hated by everyone? I'm not a freak?" Jak said hopefully. "Of course not, Jak. You're a valued member of the Underground, and you have more friends here than you ever had. You're a person, not a tool. Even I can see that." Torn answered honestly. "As for not being a freak, well, no one pumped full of Dark Eco could be totally normal, but a freak? Nah. Kor was a freak. Baron Praxis was a freak. Hell, even Errol was a freak in his own freakish way. You? You're not a freak." Torn sat up a little straighter in his chair. "But there's something you're not telling me, isn't there?" He added. Jak nodded. "In the dream, the dark beast has all of my friends, including you, stuck dead on its claws. You, Keira, Samos, Sig, Ashlein. All on one hand, and it waves them at me like it's teasing me. It makes me feel like throwing up. It says it's all my fault you're dead, that I'm too stupid to save you—agh!" Torn punched Jak full on the mouth. "Ouch! Torn!"
"Jak, there is nothing you could say or do that would get rid of us that easily. You're not stupid, and you're not at fault for anything." Jak nursed his sore jaw. Torn's expression softened. The angry creases in his tattoos disappeared. He looked almost like a tattoo-covered child with his hand caught in the cookie jar. "Sorry, Jak."
"No, I'm sorry. My problems have burdened all of you."
"Oh, shut up, before I hit you in the mouth again."
"No, really. You should be getting a full night's sleep right now, so you can be ready for tomorrow, but instead you're sitting in front of a schizophrenic 17-year old with anger issues, listening to my problems. I'm sorry, Torn, I gotta go." Jak ran out, tears beginning to well in his eyes as he ran off, grabbing his gun from a side table as he walked outside. "Jak, wait!" But it was too late. Jak was already halfway down the dirty road, having hijacked a Zoomer and driven off.
OMG CHAPTER TWO COMING SOON! WHOO!