The new year started and I realized I had all these little stories I needed to get typed and published. I'm gonna try and control that better this year.

Anyway, this is old, and one of the first things I ever wrote for the Jak and Daxter fandom. A lot of the others I've got are over on Adultfanfiction-net because of explicit mature content. Check my profile for the author name over there. Otherwise, enjoy!

~Tawnya

"Ya crazy, twisted-up bitch! What's yer freakin' malfunction?!"

"Shut it, rat! I told you to stay out of my way!"

Jak groaned as he hauled himself upright. If the two voices arguing could be heard this clearly this far into the garage, then this wasn't one of Daxter and Ashelin's agree-to-disagree spats. Both sounded seriously pissed off and it could, most certainly would, only go downhill from there. Best case scenario, Daxter lost his temper first and tried to punch Ashelin, which would lead to Ashelin shooting Daxter (hopefully not in some place vital), and they really didn't need one more body in recovery. He glanced over at Torn, who was still receiving treatment in the bed next to him. It didn't happen often, but they had butted heads over what to do in these kinds of situations before. No point in breaking up one fight just to instigate another. The Guard Leader held his gaze silently, then nodded once – whatever Jak thought was right to do, he'd support. Jak nodded back in understanding before heaving himself to his feet.

"Try stayin' the hell out of ours!" Daxter retorted. "We're on the same damn team, for Precursor's sake! Ya should be shootin' at Mizo's crew, or that stupid Blitz jerk. Or has the poison addled yer brain so much already ya can't remember little details like that?"

"Like I said in the beginning, I'm in this to win. I'm not going to take the chance, not if there's something I can do to even the odds!"

The last race…had not been pretty. Burning wreckage had piled up high and fast on the sidelines as soon as they left the starting line. Sig hadn't made it through the first lap, nicking a mine on the third turn that slagged the entire front end of his ride. He'd eaten dirt for a few yards, but came out clean in the end with only a few bruises. Torn had his engine blown from an missile impact, flipping and rolling for a long time before slamming into a divider. He was lucky the worst of his injuries were some broken ribs, a concussion, and a broken arm. Jak was one of five that made it through the second lap to the finish line, though he had paid for his first place grab with a couple bullet wounds and shrapnel-caused lacerations. None of it was serious, but he'd lost a lot of blood. And all of it was courtesy of Ashelin.

"Oh, so Jak's good enough to save yer asses from schemin' leaders and space invaders, but not to win a few laps on a track? Geez, lady, did ya pay any attention durin' the last two adventures to what exactly blondie and I were up to? Oh,wait, I forgot. Ya weren't there, too busy sittin' pretty in that lousy palace of yers for the first and ya kicked him outta the city and left us to die in the desert for the last!"

Jak had to admit, he was pretty ticked at Ashelin, too. She was always quite willing to look the other way until she needed something from someone. Then she would run a guilt trip like no other until you agreed to help her. He understood how unsettling their current position was, and that her personality demanded she to do something rather than sit back while someone else took charge. But was it really too much to ask for a stay-of-hand when the one in front of you was on your side? Did it mean nothing that Torn, whom she was romantically involved with the last time Jak checked, had already sacrificed everything he believed in to keep her father from executing her? Why did he have to give his life, too, even if he was willing?

"I was not 'sitting pretty' anywhere at anytime," Ashelin growled. "I was a respected member of the KG and trying my damnedest to help where I could. And the second one's different! I didn't have choice then. I gave him that locator that brought him to Damas, didn't I? I knew he was strong enough to survive."

"The hell ya didn't have a choice! Was a damn simple one, too! Stand up fer the guy who saved yer freakin' city, or let a buncha ol' men with their thumbs up their asses, who did nothin', might I add, to help anyone but themselves, decide he's the source of all the problems! Hm, seems pretty cut'n'dry to me. Ya certainly got on-board when Count Vulgar started demandin' compensation for savin' the world again."

Leave it alone, Dax. It wasn't going to do anyone any good to keep focusing on the past like this, even if it was a valid point to make. It was easy to dismiss a lot of what Daxter said simply because he had a very loud opinion about everything…which meant it was also easy to miss exactly how observant those opinions were. And while Jak was more than grateful for his friend's willingness to argue on his behalf, there was a time and a place, neither of which were now. The next race was in four days. They had to get there, get the repairs done, get themselves into good enough shape to drive and win again before turning around and doing it all over. It was a grueling enough process already. Having this kind of internal dispute was only going to add to everyone's stress, and they didn't need it.

"You think you're the only one that had problems? Everything was a mess after my father died! There was civil war in the streets, continued Metalhead attacks against the city walls, a complete lack of resources to start rebuilding, and barely enough eco to keep anything running. You wouldn't understand the kind of things I have to deal with on a daily basis. I was doing my best!"

Almost there. The steadily growing volume of their voices was beginning to make Jak's head hurt. They had to still be in the pit area; it was the only place left to look and, of course, on the other end of the mobile garage. Where the hell was Keira and Sig, then? Shouldn't they be tutting over the latest set of needed repairs? Neither would put up with this kind of noise while trying to work. Or how about Rayn? She wouldn't let something like this just boil over unchecked, not when it threatened to overturn the team's status. Granted, with the way those two were going at it, her soft voice probably wouldn't register, even though she had more iron in her words than her tone let on.

"Is that how ya get to sleep at night? Tellin' yerself yer doin' yer best? Yer just as delusional as yer ol' man, then, 'cuz the only one yer helpin' is yerself!"

He really couldn't be the only one who saw the violent end that was coming, was he? Or was he the only one who wanted to stop it? People saw the scars that Jak carried, saw what eco had twisted because there was a before and an after to it. Daxter didn't have that kind of mark on him, had no physical representation of how deep the wounds he suffered with went. He wondered if it would make a difference in the way the others treated Daxter, if they could see what sarcasm and cowardice covered. If Ashelin knew how far she was driving that verbal knife into Daxter's heart, would she still be pushing? He dropped that last thought and broke into an unsteady run.

"Don't talk about my father! You knew nothing about him!"

This was going too far and he wasn't going to make it in time… Jak stumbled around the corner, head pounding and vision starting to blur, but he trusted his feet to take him where he needed to be – right beside his slowly shattering partner.

"He tortured my best friend for two years and was proud of it through his dyin' breath!" Daxter screamed, voice breaking under the strain. "That tells me all I need to know!"

"We were at war!" Ashelin screamed back. "No sacrifice was too great if it meant ending it once and for all!"

Jak hit a warm body just in time for those words, just in time to stop that hate and rage Daxter hid so well from the rest of the world from manifesting. He wrapped his arms tightly around his friend and hauled back, trying to put some distance between the two. "Dax, that's enough!"

"No!" Daxter twisted in his grip, seething, almost angry beyond words. "Fuck that! It's always like this, Jak! An' I'm sick of it!"

"Stay out of this, Jak!" Ashelin snarled. "This is between him and me."

"There is no 'him and me,'" Jak replied calmly, though he felt anything but. "Just like there's no 'you and I.' There's just 'us.' We're on the same team, fighting for the same cause, for all the same reasons." His grip tightened a little on his friend. "You're not the only one out there trying to beat this thing and you're certainly as hell not the only one with something to lose. A little consideration isn't that much to ask for."

"I made it perfectly clear from the beginning that anyone who got in my way would be treated as a threat. That goes for both on and off the track."

"Oh, come off it, Miss Morally Superior," Daxter sneered. "It's okay fer you to do whatever it takes to come out clean in the end, but screw anyone who tries to do the same. If yer that desperate for a solo act, then hit the road!"

"No one's going anywhere." The rasp in Torn's voice was even more prominent as he, aided by Sig, walked in. Ashelin at least had the decency to look a little ashamed as her boyfriend limped over to them, arm in a sling and obviously still in a lot of pain. Her eyes dropped to the floor when he came close. "We're all feeling the stress. The whole sport's fucked up, and we're stuck in the middle of it for now. And it's gonna get a lot worse, too, before this is over. But if we tear ourselves apart now, guess who wins? The bastard who orchestrated this whole thing. And I, for one, will not lose to a dead man."

There was an uncomfortable silence for a while as reality once again reasserted itself. They were all desperate, there was no doubt of that, but they had to stick together – not only because of the poison, but because they were also supposed to be friends. If that broke, then it didn't matter what happened afterwards. They'd already lost.

Daxter sank a little in Jak's embrace, trembling as hot anger turned to frustration, but he remained silent. Torn reached out and touched Ashelin's shoulder. Amazingly enough, she allowed him to draw her close without a fuss. He started whispering into her ear and she slowly started nodding, though her gaze remained focused on the ground. His eyes momentarily flashed to Jak, who took the dismissal and ran with it. With his grip still tight on Daxter, he turned them around and left the pit.

They made it all the way outside before his friend pulled free to stomp out the last of his anger. "It's not fair!" Daxter yelled, pacing around in a furious little circle. "Why do we gotta keep doin' this? Savin' everyone from themselves just in time to have 'em spit in our faces for the effort. And for what? What, Jak? …Jak?"

Jak didn't even realize he was falling over until Daxter caught him and helped him sit, fluttering hands checking bandages for new spotting. "Fuck, I forgot yer all…and I'm…" He sighed, finally resting his head against Jak's shoulder. "I'm the worst best friend in the world, aren't I?"

"Today was rough. You're allowed to be angry with her. I'd think something was wrong if you weren't."

"It's more than that," Daxter mumbled, still absently petting the bandages smooth. "I get it with her, I really do. This whole things sucks yakow balls, but… I can't do it again, Jak. The first time was bad enough. If somethin' happens again, I'm not… I won't… I can't do this alone," he finished, almost whispering. "I'm not strong enough to do this alone."

"You're the strongest person I know."

Daxter smiled weakly. "That's a sweet lie, pal, but it's still a lie."

"It's not a lie," Jak insisted. "You've never allowed anyone to walk all over you, always followed your own path. If something bothers you, you fix it. If something makes you mad, you fight it."

"If I get my smart ass in trouble, you defend it."

"Exactly." Jak couldn't help but laugh at the put out look Daxter gave him. He leaned forward, pushing their foreheads together. "You're the only one, Dax." The only one who came for me. The only one who cared enough to accept me. The only one who's stayed by me. The only one who'd fight for me and share my pain. The only one I'm proud to call my friend.

Daxter stared back for a moment, then crossed his eyes and stuck his tongue out before smiling. "Yeah, I know. Ya'd be totally screwed without me." Jak chuckled and the smile brightened some.
"Ya done bein' sappy now? 'Cuz I'm pretty sure ol' loghead's gonna have a coronary if we don't get you back in bed soon."

Jak smiled as his friend hauled them both back to their feet, complaining about how heavy Jak was and making snide comments about Samos that would earn him a solid beating if the old Sage ever heard any of it. It was the standard fare, as far as Daxter was concerned, and a good indication that the anger and frustration he'd been feeling before was fading away. He'd fuss a little more, but in the end, everything would be okay. But Jak also heard what so many others missed in the onslaught of words, something that only a lifetime of listening allowed him to hear.

Thanks.

Owari