Little Drabble that could become a real story if I feel like it lol I keep opening it up and editing it/ adding to it C: Didn't even realize it was at five pages already lol

Pitiless -

Jak could feel the dark eco ebb into the furthest recesses of his mind as he forced it back with exhausted breath and a pained body. He shook his head once, his neck creaking with the action, rubbing his temple as he looked back into the dark of the tunnel, questioning, "Torn?"

Torn swallowed away the remainder of his fear and took a step forward, "Yeah, still not dead."

Jak visibly relaxed and sighed into the cave wall letting his back slide until he hit the floor with an audible wince. Torn sat down a couple feet away, cross-legged, setting his loaded gun on the ground in front of him. They would have to wait until the sandstorm died down before they could make a break for the transport station.

Feeling more confident than usual and uncomfortable in the silence, Torn asked, "What's it like when...you know..."

Jak twitched at the question and Torn wondered if he'd gone too far, but his curiosity didn't go unanswered, "It's mostly hatred and anger, lots of raw emotion and power. But I don't always have full control, sometimes I black out, "his voice dropped in volume, the words difficult to form, "that's always when it's the worst."

Surprised to have gotten a response out of him at all, Torn pressed, "Is it that bad?"

Torn jumped when Jak's shoulders bounced with dark, flat laughter, "Bad? No, it feels incredible; so much power..." Jak's eyes shone with an eerie gleam Torn had been used to seeing in the eyes of the Baron and only recently had begun to see it in Jak, and it sent shivers racing down his spine.

Jak's tone then changed drastically, "But the damage I cause, the way others talk behind my back, the fear...it hurts so much more than the pain from the dark eco."

Torn felt internally guilty for all the times he referred to Jak as anything other than human; for all the times he'd thought of him as a monster.

Jak then asked a question, his voice quiet, "When all this is over with...then what?"

Torn's stomach felt heavy as he answered truthfully, "I dunno Jak. We'll figure it out when we get there."

A bitter laugh slipped from between his friend's teeth, "If..."

End of the Line -

Jack felt his anger rise along with the energy that came along with the possession of dark eco. No one could ever understand the feeling until they experienced it themselves, and no one ever would. Dark eco was all but poison to everyone but him. Others could utilize it in weapons, but none could know the feeling of becoming one with it.

His heartbeats strengthened, deeper, stronger, and his blood ran hot as he felt the transformation take him. He let out a roar filled with hate, anger, and pain as he slipped fully into the dark version of himself. His muscle grew and his nails extended into wicked sharp claws, good for only one thing. Horns dipped out of his once golden hair, their black ridges catching the light in a sinful gleam. Black teeth shone through his snarl as he narrowed his black, unreadable eyes.

Before, he was almost completely a monster, no rhyme or reason, just destruction. But after changing so many times during the war and gaining the power to processes and utilize light eco, Jak found he was able to stay more or less in full use of his faculties, granted, with different, darker urges. Before, he'd only been able to protect Daxter, for reasons he'd never quite understood, but now he could tell the difference between friend and foe. It was just a matter of whether or not he actually cared at the time.

At the moment, Jak cared. Turning to Torn, Jak growled through his fangs, "Back off." Head low, Jak turned his glare back towards the metalheads as he snarled, "They're mine."

From his perch on his shoulder, Daxter looked over his shoulder and meekly reinforced his friend's logic, "You better do what he says."

Torn watched the orange rat with concern. Usually the rat was overconfident, loud, and arrogant. Right now he had none of these qualities. Torn didn't need to know him well to see that he was afraid...and sad. Daxter's ears were flat and he hunched closer on his friends shoulder, his grip strong with practice on Jak's armor so he wouldn't be thrown off.

Jak flexed his claws, ebony eyes narrowing as he threw himself at the first metal head. Daxter braced himself for the impending jolt as he lurched forward, his back feet bracing himself against gravity as Jak planted his feet and cleaved straight through the nearest metalhead. Purple eco raced from Jak's arms and crackled around the creature as it's spine bowed and spasmodically and screamed it's rage, cries drowning in a blossoming puddle of blood. Jak instinctively absorbed the dark eco from the dying metalhead and with a dark roar, pounded his fists into the ground, a wave of electric dark eco spreading in a broken halo across the ground and frying every metalhead left.

The energy required to use such an attack left Jak briefly weak and in return made him enough 'himself' to remember to change back as opposed to just continuing to slaughter everything in sight. Jak sighed out of the transformation, ready for the headache and confusion that came with it.

Catching himself before he fell forward, Jak rubbed his eyes with his hand and took a shuddering breath. As the power of his transformation faded away, Jak felt the familiar exhaustion and pain seep into his core. He felt like his body was sick, like every nerve on the surface of his skin was being pricked with needles everytime he moved or the fabric of his shirt slid over his skin.

Jak rubbed the back of his neck and walked back to Torn with Daxter's understanding voice in his ear, "You okay buddy?" No one understood Jak like Daxter; Not Kiera, Torn, or Ashelin. There was one thing he had that the others didn't; he was always there for him. A comforting shadow, always there, always watching. He understood and accepted the hero in ways the his other friends would never really understand. He'd known him back before he had changed, back when he could smile like the world was perfect. Daxter had spend two relentless years trying to free him, and through all their pain and trials, he'd always kept his humor and good nature.

Torn kept a cautious distance as he approached the hero, "You okay?"

Jak flashed a weary smile, "Same as ever." But the smile was brief and a brittle mask that barely fooled anyone these days, dark circles apparent under red eyes.

Torn took another step forward and asked awkwardly, "You know Jak, everyone needs a break. Maybe you should take one?"

Jak ignored the flood of irrational anger that spiked in his chest and argued, "I don't need a break. Besides, you need me."

Nodding in agreement, Torn became more confident in his decision, "We do need you Jak, and that's why I think you should take some time off."

Jak opened his mouth to argue, but Torn cut him off, "You know, scratch that, you're off for a week."

Stepping up into Torn's face, Jak growled, "You can't just dismiss me like that."

"Yeah Jak, I can." Seeing his friend grinding his teeth in frustration, Torn lightened his tone, "I know you want to help, but if you keep this up, you're going to fall apart. Everyone needs a break, Jak, even heroes."

Jak narrowed his eyes briefly in challenge, but in the end his exhaustion won over and he sighed, "Fine. You win Torn."

"Good." Looking to Daxter, Torn warned, "Keep an eye on him."

Jak rolled his eyes and waved him off, "Daxter's not my keeper."

"Could'ave fooled me." Turning his attention back to his soldiers, still several hundred feet away, he called back, "But I'm serious Jak; take it easy."

Jak dropped the pretense the second his back was turned, and Daxter couldn't have been more grateful for Torn than he was right then. He was the one that was there when Jak couldn't sleep at night. He was the one that saw all the pain he normally hid from his friends. The nightmares. The sadness. He was glad that Torn was keen enough to know Jak was at his breaking point.

Jak stepped into their apartment and Daxter hopped off his shoulder to the counter as Jak stripped his armor from his chest and shoulders. Letting it fall heavily to the floor, Jak rubbed his eyes and headed to the shower, light scars marring dark skin. Eventually they would fade, the light eco made sure of that.

Daxter watched the hero move in silence, eyes following his movements in worry. He knew the hero was hurting, and it was getting harder and harder to ignore it and let Jak work things out on his own. He didn't talk to him anymore, in fact, he talked to no one. He brooded in silence and damned himself to a hell of his own making.

Jak cleaned up and headed straight for the door. Daxter hopped to his shoulder after Jak asked, "You comin' Dax?" Daxter wasn't sure why he asked any more; did he ever refuse? Used to his behavior by now, he wasn't surprised when Jak led them both to the edge of a bar.

Falling straight to the heavy stuff, Jak didn't like to go to the same dig twice. People knew his face and he didn't like the attention. The last time he'd gotten attention he'd been banished, so Daxter couldn't blame him. Downing more than three shots in five minutes, Daxter was feeling uneasy. Jak could hold his liqueur, but it also shortened his temper, which was on a painfully short fuse these days.

The night grew old and Jak was already heavily drunk, eyes on the same shot he'd been swirling in his fingers for over an hour. Daxter tensed when he saw a man set his eyes on Jak's back, fists tightening until he could see the white of his knuckles. Swallowing, Daxter worried, "Jaaaakk."

Jak's eyes narrowed, well aware of the man's intention even though he was heavily intoxicated. He was ready for the blow before it was even thrown. Pushing Daxter's head down, Jak ducked under the blow and spun off the chair, the man swinging into nothing but air. Knocking himself off balance, the man caught himself before he fell into the bar and turned to see Jak unharmed and hunched forward, eyes narrowed and deadly even through the haze of alcohol.

Daxter could feel his friend sway slightly under his feet, but he knew that even this far under, his instincts alone would be enough to deal with one pitiful drunkard.

Jak kept silent as the man shouted in a rage, "You're Jak aren't you? The monster of Haven city. You too good to fight with me?" His tone turning dark and mocking as he hissed his words.

Jak was struggling with his anger as he asked, his deep voice slurred, "Why do you want to fight me?"

He sneered, "Maybe I just want to know what you're worth." Jak ducked under his next punch with practiced ease, catching him around the middle and spinning him in his arms to throw him to the ground with the backed force of all his weight. Leaving the man groaning on the floor, Jak recognized the sound of his groaning as a sound people only made when they weren't getting back up. Straightening on his feet, Jak felt the eyes of all in the bar on him, "Who else?" When the bar remained fearfully silent, Jak cocked his head, calculating. Then cursed and stormed out, his footsteps only slightly unbalanced as he fell into the street.

Daxter felt something off in his friend and chewed his lower lip, and asked in a shaky voice, "Jak, you okay?"

He was surprised Jak didn't brush him off like he always did, "No Dax...I'm not okay." Jak slammed his back into a wall and slid to the ground, his knees to his chest with on hand protectively over the back of his neck and head and the other balancing on his bent knee. Letting his head fall he took slow, stabilizing breaths.

Daxter debated leaving his friend alone before taking the phone from Jak's front pocket. He hesitated over Kiera's speed dial, then flipped down through the contacts. He jumped down from his friend's shoulder as the tattooed soldier answered roughly, "Jak?" Daxter felt panic grip him as he realized he was unprepared to explain.

"No, it's Daxter. Listen, you need to get over here."

Torn's voice went from casual to serious, "Daxter, what's going on?"

"Jus- just get over here." Daxter told him where they were and snapped the phone closed, squeezing the thing until his knuckles turned white, standing nervously next to his unresponsive friend. From the flat look in Jak's eyes, Daxter knew to leave him in peace, but he knew that peace wasn't going to last long.

Only minutes passed before Torn hopped down from his hovercar, and looked to Daxter, eyebrows drawn deep, for answers, before settling on Jak's form in concern. Daxter's brow was drawn in worry as he looked up and explained, "He's drunk, has been for a few hours now. He got in a fight and he's been like this since."

Torn frowned in disapproval, "You let him get drunk?"

Daxter defended meekly, "He's been doing this for a while...it was better...it was better than before" Rubbing the back of his neck, Daxter looked up at Jak who was still ignoring them both, focused entirely on taking slow, deep breaths.

Torn stood over Jak and made to touch Jak's shoulder, but Daxter desperately stopped him, "No stop! Don't touch him, just...don't."

"Why?"

Daxter hopped up onto Torn's shoulder and explained vaguely, "I've seen him like this before, and the outcome is never good. I could stop him before, but lately...I know he won't hurt me, but I can't say the same for someone else."

"Why would he hurt someone?"

Daxter's ears dropped as he answered like Torn should have known, "Dark eco. He's fighting inside, and no amount of light eco is going to fix it."

Torn groaned in frustration, "So what am I here for?"

Daxter deadpanned, "I'm an orange furry rat, how am I supposed to keep him under control? That's your department."

Torn didn't have an answer for him, but they both tensed when Jak used the wall for support as he pushed himself to his feet. Torn wouldn't have been as worried if he didn't notice the black recesses of Jak's eyes. Little purple sparks played over his forearms and bounced across the ground before dying out.

Torn wasn't sure if he should arm himself against him, or if he would only make it worse, but he was sure that he wasn't about to die without some self-defense. Falling into a defensive stance, Torn held his hands up to show he was unarmed, if that meant anything to Jak.

Jak lurched forward unnaturally into a crouch, and Torn skipped out of the way, noticing the lack of finesse from the alcohol. He felt a surge of hope that if Jak was this inhibited he actually might not die. Focusing carefully Torn chided, "Jak, think about this..."

Jak cocked his head like he might consider it before jerking forward, long claws already spreading from his fingertips. Torn rolled out of the way, his hand automatically closing around the handle of his knife and bringing it up to chest height. The second the familiar weight settled into his palm he realized what he was doing. Was he really going to use deadly force against his friend?

Looking into Jak's flat eyes, his heart plummeted when the hero,'s mouth curved into a leisurely grin, like this was fun. No, this Jak wasn't going to hesitate to kill him. A small growl rolled from his chest and he shifted his weight into a jump, landing inches from where Torn was standing. Surprised, Torn tried to pull back, but Jak moved too fast, catching his arm before he could make use of his weapon and twisting it at an angry angle. His lips turned up as Torn's knees buckled at the pain, his hand going limp in Jak's grip as the knife clattered to the pavement.

Getting beneath the soldier's center of gravity, Jak pushed up and back, forcing Torn up to eye level with him, his lungs crushed between the wall and Jak's forearm. Gasping for air, Torn could barely even struggle in Jak's iron grip as Daxter yelled, "Jak! Look at what you're doing!" Daxter didn't dare stray too close, but the panic was clear on his face as he watched his best friend contemplating a friends death like he might contemplate his favorite color.

Jak's eyes flicked in the direction of Daxter's voice, his head tilting in thought before his voice, deeper and harsher than his usual tone, snarled a response, half consumed by eco, "I am looking Daxter. And I'm thinking about this really hard, but I'm having a lot of trouble finding reasons why I should care about this one."

Torn took another gasp for breath, his eyesight gathering black at the corners as his body fought desperately for air as Jak forced his arm down further onto his chest. The flash of his teeth was clear as Jak hear the former rebel leader's bones begin to creak under the weight. His body thrummed with power from the knowledge that if he pushed just hard enough he could crush this man's bones, and then his heart.

Eyes widening in excitement, Jak could practically feel Torn's bones snapping when a soft voice at his ear broke his concentration. It wasn't just Daxter's voice that broke his reverie, it was his tone. Tone spiteful and regretful, Daxter was perched on his shoulder, eyes pointedly away from Torn's struggling form as he whispered, "Don't do this Jak. You kill Torn and...and you won't be Jak anymore. I'll have no reason to stay."

Jak's breath sucked in quickly, whatever humanity he had left was still anchored to Daxter, and whatever dark powers were fighting inside of him were still tamed by his voice; if Daxter left he'd be truly alone, and that terrified him more than death itself.

Fighting against the dark eco instead of encouraging it, Jak pulled away from Torn with almost a regretful grimace, lifting his arm and watching him gasp and roll to his side to fill his lungs with precious air. Watching detachedly, Jak watched Torn struggle to breath with three cracked ribs, his mind fighting to realize what was real and what was actually him. The reality of what he was about to do came crashing down on him like the fear of death, his eyes widening and his jaw clenching.

He felt his heart ache with tears, but he was too tired to cry. Licking dry lips, Jak closed his eyes and concentrated, searching his body for the faint traces of light eco left in his system. Always so much dark eco, never enough light. He found it, a frayed ribbon inside of him, slowly degrading, as solid as smoke listing through his fingers. Grabbing tight, Jak let the light eco take shape and change him, slapping his hands together, his body taking on the same iridescent blue hue of light eco, wing-like projections hazy at his back. Kneeling at Torn's side, Jak rolled his friend on to his back and placed a steady palm on his chest. Torn cringed in pain, his breath short and quick under his broken ribs.

Jak tried to ignore how good he felt in the absence of dark eco, instead forcing that warm, protective feeling through his arm and into his hand. Transferring his power to Torn, Jak instinctively felt the knowledge to heal the leader at his feet. As he healed him, Jak used every ounce of light eco left in his system, forcing all of it into repairing his friends battered body. He wasn't even sure why he was doing it. Maybe he felt guilty, or maybe obligated. Either way, as he sat back and watched his friend come to, perfectly fine, he just felt...empty.

Torn sat up carefully, his body unwillingly to believe the pain he was in could just be gone. Patting himself down and reassuring himself that he was alive, Torn asked fearfully, "You back?"

Jak gave him a dead stare and looked down to his hands which were shaking so hard Jak clasped them together and squeezed, "As much as I can be." Hesitating for a minute he added, "That was the last of the light eco in my system."

Torn edged away fearfully, "Aaaand?"

Daxter answered his question instead, jumping back up to his friends shoulder, if only cause from the perch he was closer to Jaks ears, "The light eco was the only thing keeping the dark eco in check, and in case you missed the memo, this city's chalk full of dark eco, but a little worse for wear on light eco. Unless we find some soon, our buddy Jak's going to be ill-tempered and snarly...forever." His enthusiasm for his friends health was strong, but he wasn't stupid, he had gotten more than a first hand account of Jak's downhill decline into insanity, his pessimism could almost be seen as optimism. He was assuming there was still light eco left.

Jak watched Daxter out of the corner of his eye and looked down, "I'm sorry."

Torn felt awkward watching the hero before him desperately apologizing for something that wasn't his fault. The baron had done this to him, but he still piled all the responsibility on himself. He was fighting a disease so strong he was considered a freak for surviving. Torn risked laying a hand on Jak's free shoulder as he gave him a grim smile, "We'll figure this out Jak; all of us. You're not in this alone."

Jak let out a weary snort, "But at the end of the day, it's just me and the nightmares..."