Substitute

Chapter One: Down the Hall, to the Left

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Whoo-hoo, another story for me! Is that good? I don't think so. Anyway, read and review.

Description: Jak and Daxter wake up one morning, to find that something is amiss - something not quite the same – that leads them off on a journey.

Overused Disclaimer: I do not own J&D, nor do I represent Naughty Dog. Obviously.

Author's Note: For all intents and purposes, Substitute takes place a few months after the end of Jak 3, and prior to the events of Jak X.

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Jak and Daxter always understood each other. There was a mutual respect for one another and, more specifically, unending support the other. Jak, for example, always stood behind his friend Daxter, especially because there was not much to stand behind.

Daxter, on the other hand, always respected Jak for his bravery and strength, though he would not admit it in a million years, and because Jak sometimes scared the living daylights out of him.

The duo had been inseparable since they had met hundreds of years before this story. More so after Daxter's bath with eco, and even further as they arrived in Haven City.

The two liked to believe that they understood each other greatly. However, the mystical Precursors had their own ideas.

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Jak almost didn't wake up. The warmth was amazingly comfortable. It cuddled every inch of him, bathing him and wafting him. He would have sat there for days, burrowing deeper and deeper into the soft bedding. However, his internal clock rang loudly with a repetitive tone much like the alarm clock that had sat on his bedside table until, in a fury only gained by lack of sleep, he had decimated the small device with a blast of dark eco.

His mind woke up just enough to mechanically drive his body. Without another thought, he pulled himself out of the comfy, warm bed an into the icy cold of the apartment. Down the hall, to the left, down the hall, to the left, his mind told his nerves, driving him in a precise line across the tile. His footsteps sounded oddly muffled as he staggered.

Jak turned left, and ran into a wooden door. The cold surface came to rest directly against his face. He yawned, and his mind woke up ever so slightly more. Hmm, that's odd, I swore I left the door open last night. No matter. He mindlessly lifted his arm, and twisted the cool metal knob, and almost immediately fell into the bathroom. His feet felt even colder on the tile.

He ran his hand through his hair, not noticing the small clatter of something falling to the floor as he flipped his hair. Thick, smooth, greasy... shower time. As an indicator of his filthiness, his entire torso itched like mad.

He used his left hand to scratch himself like mad while satisfying his dire need to urinate. After finishing and without pause, he turned to his left again and walked straight, going into the shower. He twisted another cold knob and a stream of tepid water splashed upon his head.

Jak grabbed a bar of soap from a small shelf jutting into the wall, and began rubbing himself with the cleaning substance. A small bit of music began playing in the background. He found himself tapping his foot to the beat of the rock music that quietly played from an unknown source. Jak knew something was weird there; it was now that he usually heard news readings from that morning's headlines, usual Freedom League and New Haven jargon, nothing else.

Damn electronic showers. Things were so much less complicated back home, he couldn't help but think. His mind wandered back to Sandover Village.

A beep sounded, and multiple jets of soapy water began spraying him before he even finished rubbing his chest with his soap.

Interesting, he thought, it's never done that before. Ah, screw it, less work for me. Jak put the soap down and let his mind wander further as the shower cleaned him without worry.

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Daxter woke up out of biting cold, late as usual. No alarm blared as usual, but a stream of light coming in through a window awoke him. He rolled out of bed and onto the floor, landing with a heavy thump. The bed's not that high up. Shaking his head, thinking Tess probably messed with it, he slowly rose to his feet, completely oblivious to what was amiss. Down the hall, to the left. His mind gave him the primitive thoughts as he began to woke up, still half asleep.

His reached his hand out, expecting a doorknob, but was instead met with empty air. Expecting for a wooded block to be there to support his minimal weight, he fell into the bathroom, hitting the cold tile with another thump. Worse, his head began pounding. Of course. Good morning, Daxter! Today's the day where the Precursors are going to totally screw with you!

Daxter chuckled as his own unexpected ironic statement. He got up off the floor, suddenly in a better mood. He quickly raised his hand and waved it through his hair, checking his own state of hygiene. Ah, I can go another day, right? He paused for a moment. Just as long as Torn resists the urge to send us somewhere like the sewers...

...Again...

Dax pushed it off. He wanted to admire himself in the mirror for a moment. He thought comically to himself, "It's what gives Orange Lightning his charisma!"

He reached his hand out to the right, flailing momentarily in his search for the light switch. He found it, and faced the mirror as he prepared to turn it on.

Daxter flicked it, making a loud "Click!" echo throughout the room. He opened his eyes to stare at himself, beaming happily.

However, at seeing his reflection, he shouted in fear. A short, but loud, burst of voice that scared him even further. Wait, strike that: he wasn't really scared, just startled. At least, that's what Daxter told himself as he jumped back about a foot. He then looked in the mirror again.

The sight made him dizzy. I'm nuts, Daxter thought, holding his hand to his forehead. He felt no fur, and looked back at his reflected image once more.

There he saw a smooth figure glowering back at him. He made faces, and his reflection complied. Daxter observed himself. He was wearing no clothes, save for a loose pair of boxer shorts with the image of Metal-Head Skull Gems sown on.

He furrowed his brow in complete and utter confusion. Daxter repeated the motion with his hand to his hair, noting his short, greenish-blond crew cut.

I'm... Jak?!

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Similar events were occurring across town. Rather than describe an almost identical series of events, I'll skip to the good part:

"Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" Jak cried out. He couldn't believe what he was seeing, and, soon thereafter, what he was saying.

Jak had just gotten out of the shower. Still content and dripping from the warm cleaning waters, he looked in the mirror. He started screaming at that second, his mind running in rapid circles. Hyperventilating slightly, Jak glanced down at the thin orange fur covering his small body.

A small pair of goggles lay on the counter, resting where they had fallen only minutes earlier. Arms up in confusion, and still breathing heavily, Jak looked down upon himself.

He found himself still screaming – authentically in the voice of his friend, no less – as he heard a voice. It was sweet, and concerned.

"Dax, sweetie, what's wrong?"

Jak looked up and to his right. Another ottsel stood in the doorway. He immediately recognized Tess.

Thinking of something to say, Jak glanced at the mirror. His orange friend – or, rather, himself – stared back at himself expectantly, as if to shout, "Say something, you idiot!"

"Well..."

I'm Daxter. Great. And, as an afterthought: That's why I hate Mondays.

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No. No, no... No, no, no! No, no, no, no, no! Daxter sat on the leather-like couch, rubbing his temples confusedly. This can't be happening. He opened his newly-humanized palm, and stared at it for a few moments. He then flipped his hand over, and observed the other side. Overcome by a sudden sense of wisdom, he though of how many times this hand killed.

He stopped himself before the thoughts continued. God, no wonder Samos is such a grumpy ass... he gets these thoughts all the time!

Dax pondered what he would do. He guess he had to get in touch with Jak. If I'm Jak, Jak's me, right?! Coincidence, at that moment, reared its ugly head.

He heard a musical tone, and a communicator buzzed in his shirt pocket. He had a time getting Jak's tunic on... he hadn't worn a shirt in over six years – heck, he was just getting used to wearing pants again! Daxter grabbed the thin metallic device out of the pocket, pressed a button, and began to speak. The effect of his voice was odd: he was speaking in his friend's deep, serious voice, but with the attitude and tone of himself. Mixed with his own fast-paced talking, Daxter's voice ended up sounding like Jak on a serious sugar rush.

"Talk to me."

Daxter heard himself speak in response. The sound was comparably weird: his joyful (more obnoxious) voice was serious, and smooth. All-in-all, Jak sounded like a lethargic teenager over the communicator. "Dax, is that you?"

Daxter became agitated. "No, it's Torn, whadda hell to ya' think?"

Jak chuckled inwardly at hearing the sarcasm dripping in his own voice. "Yeah, it's definitely my smartass friend."

"Good to know that's the same."

"Do you have any idea what's going on?"

"You're asking me?" Daxter sassed. "I'm not Onin... go ask that monkaw, Pecker!"

"Whatever," Jak replied. "We need to meet up somewhere. Tell somebody."

"Who?! Torn and Ashelin will think we've gone nuts..."

"...Unless we're both there..."

Daxter sighed dramatically. "Fine, Orange Lightning." It felt odd calling his friend by his own nickname, but it fit enough. He could almost hear his own fur bristle in frustration across the com-phone.

Jak whipped back with his own stupid nickname. "Whatever, 'Tall, Dark, and Gruesome.'"

Daxter laughed. "That's right, the only Eco Freaks in town have switched bodies, thank the Precursors!"

They both chuckled.

Daxter changed the subject. "So, how's Tess? How did she respond?"

He waited in happy anticipation. Tess was likely to believe anything that came out of the male ottsel's mouth, even if it was Jak's words.

"Well, she first tried to give me a hug and slip me a pill..."

"...I love that pill..."

Jak paused momentarily in disgust. "I'm kidding... but okay... she looked freaked for a moment, and then looked into my eyes. Apparently she saw something."

Daxter grinned. "I love how she does that..."

"...You wanna talk to her?"

Before Daxter could even respond, the communicator rustled, and he heard Tess' voice begin to pester him with questions. After appeasing her worries for a few moments, a beep could be heard through the communicator's speaker. Overwhelmed by his girlfriend's concern, he took the opportunity to hang up. "Whoops, call waiting, gotta go!"

He pressed another button on the side of the device, and the line switched. "Is this the number for Captain Jak of the Freedom League?"

Daxter was about to mindlessly say no, but changed his answer. He coughed to try and get his voice as close to Jak's as possible, and thought of what his stern comrade would say. "Ahem...this is him."

"Ah, hello then. This is Shan Davis; I'm a representative in relations for the New Haven city section. All high-ranking officials in the Freedom League have been invited to a banquet tomorrow evening at Praxis Hall to introduce the new plan for the former Metal Head City. We'd be happy to accommodate any of your needs this event. Have you any, sir?"

Anxious, Daxter immediately said no. In response, the man over the phone ended the conversation, not allowing any room for conversation. "Alright, Captain. See you this evening."

Great... this is going to be a really fun two days.

...If it ends after tomorrow...