This was in my head for a while. No Yaoi, even though the end may suggest it, so don't even think about it.
Current Rating: T
Warnings: Possible yaoi in later chapters, violent scenes
Disclaimer: I don't own Jak 3, Jak II, etc.
Enjoy!
Chapter 1 - We Need to Talk
They're too strong! Hit the Wall, everyone back!" A guard shouted, waving a hand into the air, beckoning everyone else to follow.
"Torn, hurry up, we're going" One screamed at him.
"No..."
"Are you Crazy? Move it!" The guard reprimanded before holding Torn's hand and pulling him away.
These thoughts resounded in Torn's head, echoing off the dark, empty walls. It had been a few weeks since the great war was over, but since it ended, memories started gushing in, messing with the commander's cool head. And these were not the memories you cherished, oh no, these were the memories of tragedies, deaths and war. These thoughts nagged at Torn, trying to pull him down into a moment of silence so he could take it in, to release them, to let them free.
But Torn was too proud. A war hero curling into a corner and crying! That's absolutely insane, or so he thought. With each passing day, the memories kept proving harder and harder, beckoning him to listen.
"Erol! What the hell are you doing!" Torn screamed to the man, who was standing on the roof of the building. The Readhead was holding someone, and the victim was still, hands up in streets below were filled with fleeing citizens, running from the metal head horde, who were starting to set buildings alight.
"Help, someone help me!" The victim screamed.
Screams of horror and despair filled the late afternoon air as the guards tried all they could to hold them back, before they too, were running like the wind towards the inner wall.
"I'm doing what's best for the city!" Erol screamed back, holding a cold pistol in his hands."Say goodbye, Torn"
"You bastard" Torn only had time to say before...
*BANG*
And a body fell to the ground.
Torn woke up panting. it was another nightmare, again, the image still frsh in his mind.
'It's just a dream' he thought and he put his head down, put the blankets over him and tired to sleep.
Minutes turned to hours, hours turned into days and the memories still haunted him. He was still as cool And calm as he always was, but inside, he was fighting, not against a metal head, the dark makers or the KG, but himself. It was like he held a pistol, shooting at the thoughts in his head, willing them to go away. But they would not. For every time he forced one out, two took their place.
The mental pain was agonizing, he had to tell someone, somebody, someone who could understand. Someone who went through what he went through. Ashelin? No. She would not want to know, she already had enough to think about. Sig? Nope. He is probably dealing with that city of his. Keira? Definitely not. She was too soft for what he had in mind.
Who could he tell then, who?
"I'm so sorry Torn, but that is how it is" The Shadow said calmly. "This is what happens with people like Praxis. This is what the city gets from them"
There was silence as the buildings behind them burned, the smoke filling the air. The occasional structural collapsed, a loud boom flooded the ruins as it hit the empty streets below.
"I've made my choice" Torn started. "Let's do this"
"Then let's get started, we've got a war to win" The shadow cheered.
He needed advice, he needed to know how these voices would be quiet. He thought through a long list of names in his head and finally chose one. He hopped onto a zoomer which was conveniently parked outside the apartment. He ran to it and hopped on before heading towards the Port.
He drove though the streets, the civilians were walking peacefully below him, an occasional blast bot or metal head were being chased by the FL guards, but overall, it was heaven compared to months of war when it hell was set loose in Haven. The most destructive war ever in Haven's City.
He then went to the metal head section. Despite its name, there was not a metal head in sight, and the formerly acidic goo below him was on fire, the walls charred, eolished in some parts, flames reaching into the air. Turns out the stuff was flammable and a touch explosive, so when Jinx went there one day and dropped his half burning cigarette into the pools of green slime you probably knew what's going to happen next.
Seconds later, he had to run for his life when the thing went off. He survived, albeit several burns, but he was laughing. Saying something along the lines of "That... Was... AWESOME! Can I do it again?"
Pyromaniacs. He can never understand them.
He drove though and finally got to the metal doors. They and the walls seemed impervious to the blast, and except for a few black marks, nothing really happened to them. Problem was that the doors were jammed, so Torn had to think of another way to get in.
He rammed the zoomer into the gate, jumping off at the last second. The inner door exploded as the zoomer smashed into it, explosives courtesy of Jinx, who was watching it from the hospital.
"Oh yeah! That just made my day!" he cheered, before he sighed and went down in his bed, thinking of more targets to destroy.
Torn silently walked through the air lock and the outer door opened for him. The crunching of soil and dust erupted from his feet as he entered the serene forest. That old man better be here, he's always here. Just then he stepped onto the patch of grass in front of him, just to get shot by a small green eco blast.
"What the?"
"Don't step on the grass, Torn!" a voice shouted from behind him.
"What the hell was that for!" or snapped as he turned to face the short, irate green man.
"Just a warning. Remember, Never. Touch. The grass. EVER!"
The last word made it seem the forest itself was shaking, a torrent of leave falling on the pair. Torn just rolled his eyes at the shadow and brushed them off. Even though he went back a year ago, his older self is just as cranky and as protective of all things green as ever.
"I need advice" Torn demanded "Now."
"Calm down, sunshine, no need to get upset" Samos replied, ironically calm after the outburst.
Torn then just looked back, trying to wipe a few tears, before facing the sage.
"Never say that to me again" Torn said coldly.
"Oh, It's about that then? I shouldn't have said that..."Samos replied, finding the dirt below him rather interesting. He then perked his head up and looked at the commander.
"You should tell someone who is having a similar experience" he suggested.
"Ashelin?"
"Ashelin! No! She's already busy as it is, she does not need another bedtime story." Samos snapped. "Think about someone else, who else is going through that situation right now."
Torn looked up and thought before he landed on someone.
"Him? Are you serious? Not likely"
"Well, if you want to clear your head, you'll have to do it."
"I still don't like the idea" Torn said before he walked to the metal doors and went through them.
The zoomer hummed below him as he explored the port, or what was left of it. The war had messed up Haven, it was not this bad since the Dead town disaster. The ruined houses, the bullet holes on the streets and buildings made the scene even more depressing, the occasional flame leaping out of an abandoned building.
Today, he made his choice. He was going to tell someone. Torn leaned forward on the one person zoomer as he headed south into the port. He drove around over the murky waters of the port before heading to the "Southern HQ" as he preferred, but known to many as the Naughty Ottsel.
He drove over to the glowing ottsel, which was repaired, thanks to Tess, and hoped off the vehicle, landing on his feet with a soft thud. He then walked to the bar, and hoped that the person he was looking for was there.
"Hiya Torn, want a drink?" Tess asked him
"No, not really" he replied before Daxter appeared behind the counter.
"Torn! What are doing here!? In MY Place!" Daxter screamed when seeing the tattooed wonder entering through the doors of his "hallowed" enterprise.
"Huh, dejà vu?" Torn thought, remembering how the scrawny little rat reacted last time when he saw Torn "messing" with the bar.
"Well, look what's crawled out of the sewers" Torn jeered, the target definitely not amused.
"Anything you need, Torn?" Tess asked happily.
"Serve drinks? To TORN! Are you nuts? Daxter retorted.
"Dax, calm down, It's just Torn" another voice called from one of the seats on the side.
"Yeah, it's Torn alright, wanting to do something to my place!"
Torn ignoted Daxter and looked around and saw him. He was leaning against a wall, the gun pointed down to the ground like a staff. His long, blonde hair cut off long ago, his eyes as blue as the midday sky.
He stood there and looked at him and visually inspected him. Just the man he needed.
"Jak, we need to talk" Torn said to him before walking towards him.
This is it. Just the man he needed to talk to.
