2010 Update: This fic was written when only J1 and J2 were out, before the games explained anything in Jak's past. Hence, it is incredibly AU. Early, early into fandom I wondered who Jak's parents were and wrote this story (and part of its sequel) as a possible explanation. It has been edited to fix issues with punctuation (the site changed what kinds of quotation marks it supported), but content is largely unchanged. I used to thank people in the A/Ns for their reviews, but as that is possibly a violation of the TOS (we have review reply now) I have removed those parts. I wrote the fic to blend with the known canon of the time as well as I could. It also shares common fanon with some of my other fics, mainly "Studying the Unloved."

Even though I dislike the AU aspect intensely, I consider this fic my real introduction to the fandom, and have met many wonderful people through it. If you, so many years out now, fancy a read, please enjoy.

This fic contains many issues associated with poverty; disease, death, violence, prostitution (although there is NO explicit content!!), drugs, etc. I tried to portray these issues in a brutally honest way. My gut reaction to Haven City was this- as such a deviation from the bright, fun world of J1, I felt the city was a much darker, sicker, poorer place than usually portrayed in fanon.

"Cilley" is pronounced Sigh-ly. Like if you made 'sigh' an adverb.


"Cilley?"

The knocks came harder and harder, threatening to break the pitiful wooden door. Instinctively I snatched Jak off the ground and held him in my arms. He didn't protest, merely watched the shapes he had been cutting into the dirt floor fall away from him. "Try not to wiggle," I whispered. He was a solid four year old and could knock me off balance if he tried hard enough.

I didn't need to tell him not to make a sound. He never did.

He nodded, his huge eyes alighting upon the splintering door.

"Cilley! Open up, upon orders of Baron Praxis!"

"It's just a game, sweet one," I whispered into his ear. He nuzzled my face and I felt somewhat braver. Thank you, Jak, I thought, for giving me strength. I grabbed my cloak and my bag, looped each around my shoulders somehow without strangling myself, and opened the door.

Massive red shoulders towered over me. The Krimzon Guard radiated a power that left my knees shaking. There was only one that I could see, and his gun was almost as tall as he was. I felt every ounce of courage I had mustered tunnel through my feet into the floor. Jak buried his face into my neck. As I ran my hands through his green hair, I whispered, "it's just a game, honey. Let mommy do the talking."

The Guard looked down at me, and I felt his stare through his metal faceplate. "Cilley?" His tone indicated just how small he found me. Very small, indeed. A spindly blonde woman, shaking and unkempt.

"Yes?" I said, tossing my hair back and trying to square my shoulders.

"We will escort you to the Palace, Baron's orders. Bring your supplies. If the Baroness dies, you'll be killed. Do you understand?"

"Yes. Let me get them." I turned my back to the mountain of red metal and set Jak down. "See honey? It's just a game. Mommy has to go to work. She has to help the Baroness. Will you get my special jars?" Jak grinned and nodded, running into the back of the room as fast as his little legs could carry him. All of the doctors must be at war, I thought, for the Baron to call upon a slummer. Without turning around, I asked, "is there a vehicle, or will we be walking?"

A cackling of static radio transmissions. "Vehicle," the Guard grunted. I twisted my mouth and decided to take the mantle with me. Jak and I would probably be walking home from the Palace.

"Oh, thank you honey. We're going to take a trip now, okay?" I took his little hand and we followed the Guard out of our house. I didn't bother to shut the door behind me. If the neighbors were watching what was happening between scraps of curtain, they wouldn't dare touch the house. "Don't be scared, now," I said, pulling Jak onto my lap. The vehicle was enclosed, thank Mar, and I let Jak press his face against the windows to watch the city fly by below.

While he was occupied, I arranged my jars and packets of herbs. I had a marking system of my own, as I could barely sign my name. Drusus and I had promised ourselves we would not let Jak grow up illiterate, but it didn't look like he had much of a chance now. The Baron had just cut funding for the slum schools. The teachers had attempted a strike, but most of them were killed in the ensuing uprising. I sighed, watching the people walking below us. I turned my head just as that corner came, and choked. I held my breath, waiting, waiting for the zoomer to pass the site.

A little hand touched my cheek. I opened my eyes. Jak waved a little at me, his sign for 'mommy,' showing his concern. "Oh nothing, Jak," I said. He touched my face again, and I realized it was wet. His blue eyes threatened tears. I took him onto my lap again. "Did you like looking at the city?" He nodded. Behind us, the corner disappeared behind one of the island buildings, but not before I saw the faint splatter of red.

Damn those ring courses, I thought fiercely. Damn you, Drusus, and your insane lust for racing. I squeezed Jak without thinking, and he made a choking sound. "Oh, sorry honey. I love you," I kissed his cheek and he smiled. "I was just thinking of times before," I said. He made a wiggly sign for 'daddy,' and I nodded. "We miss him a lot, don't we?" He nodded. "We're never, ever going to race in those nasty ring courses, are we Jak?" He nodded, one distinct jut of the head. "And we're never, ever going to join shady men in strange adventures, right?"

He grinned, and made the finger wiggling 'never ever' sign. I smiled, and we laughed. His laugh was soundless, mostly a shaking of the shoulders and a huge grin. I hugged him again and the vehicle landed.