Rated: T for minor swearing, drunk ottsels, nekkid Jak, creepy mental things goin' on with da hero, yeh. future chapters might be rated M.

I don't own Jak and Daxter or the characters! C: (I wish pfft)

This takes place after Jak 3.

since i was a total noob when i posted this (probably still am but getitng the hang of it), i decided to fix this up a bit. the dream now has details and i made the whole chapter more organized. enjoy C:

Dark Jak
Thoughts/dream/emphasis

"Damn, my neck," Jak strained out, rubbing the back of his aching neck.

Daxter cracked his back, complaining, "How do you think I feel? Being stuck on a metal plate for five hours can wear your bones out, man!"

Jak smirked. "I didn't know furballs could be so frail." The young hero didn't hear the end of it. The whole entire way to the bar his ear's were filled with nothing but Daxter's arguing and yelling. Furballs must be senstive, too.

Finally, he reached the door to the Naughty Ottsel. His furry friend was grinning now, enjoying the familiar smell of his lover, Tess, and various alcoholic drinks. Opening the entrance, Jak stepped inside and cracked his neck, loosening it a bit so he wasn't too grumpy. "What took you so long?" was the only greeting the duo had gotten when they reached the countertop.

The orange ottsel growled, "An army of Metal Heads, that's what, Captain Laryngitis! Ease off!" and jumped off the counter to the liquid stash to drink his stress away.

Jak grabbed a stool in the middle and leaned against the counter, every muscle aching and tense. From the corner of his eye, he could see Torn walking out of the back room, his hands behind his back in a proud matter. He could see the impatient look in his cold eyes. The hero needed a bit of stress-relief himself. As if Daxter was reading his thoughts, he put a cold beer bottle on the countertop for Jak. The blonde elf was greatful as he opened the lid, taking a long sip. So refreshing.

Torn was sitting two seats right of Jak now and leaned against the counter himself. They both watched in silence as Daxter got himself drunk off his ass. "How did you know we were gonna stop for a drink?" Jak said, breaking the silence. Both kept staring at the drinking ottsel.

Torn replied raspily, "I know you two. A pair of slackers."

Daxter perked his ears at the word 'slackers' and growled drunkily at Torn, waving a finger quite recklessly at him, "Heeeyy! We aint no slackerz! Jus' ask duh Metal Monkiez me n' Jakkie here took down ah-selvez!" Torn only glared at the drunken rat. Jak was amused by his fuzzy friend, enjoying the 'Le-Drunketh-Ottsel' show he was putting on yet again after a hard day's work.

The tattooed commander shrugged after a few seconds of thinking on the duo's behalf, "I know I've been giving you two many missions lately that seem rather pointless, but they are indeed important, just not saving-the-world important. We want the citizens in Haven City to be comfortable, instead of running from remaining Metal Heads and KG robots all week long." Daxter took a huge swig from a wine bottle that seemed bigger than him. Jak merely nodded in reply, taking another sip from his cold drink. So, so refreshing.

When the blonde hero glanced at Torn, the commaner seemed thoughtful. "I'm guessing there were a few more Metal Heads to fight off than I expected, hm?" The ex-KG could probably see how tense Jak was.

A drunken orange ottsel flopped himself onto the counter, hiccuping. "You-*hic*-bet your scrawny tattooed ass-*hic*-there were more Metal Heads th-*hic*-than expected!" Daxter waved his finger at Torn again. This earned him getting slapped off the counter. Then, the rat finally decided to pass out from his drunken state.

Torn shook his head, sighing out, "You two get some rest, then."

Say wha-?

"Uh, Torn, you okay? You never give me and Dax-" Jak was interrupted by Torn who held up his hand, a scowl plastered on his face.

"I said rest, that's all. Don't expect me to be babysitting your ass in that period of time. I already have a mission picked out for you and the rat, and this one will need you to be fully awake." Jak couldn't help but smile at this. The same old serious Torn. The commander walked to the back room of the bar again. Feeling the seriousness decreasing, Jak took a big swig of his beer bottle. So, so, so refreshing.


The duo walked into their small home; tan walls, brown carpet, comfy dark blue chairs and couches. Being a world famous hero, they also had a flat screen television, a gaming station, two computers, and other electronics. Daxter raided the fridge, getting out a few grapes to munch on while Jak got ready for bed. Jak ignored eating and went straight to the bedroom, the king sized bed inviting him. He slipped off his goggles and scarf with ease, tossing them to the floor.

"I'm surprised you didn't ask about Tess, Dax," Jak said to his companion who was very slowly becoming sober. Daxter cocked his head to the side slightly, looking up at Jak who was taking his heavy combat boots off to lounge in his bed.

"Din' wanna interfere. I'll meet'er later. For now, though, I need tuh..." Then the ottsel passed out on the floor. The blonde hero snickered, knowing Daxter was going to have a major hangover when he woke up, which wouldn't be a good state to be in while on another mission.

Carefully, he picked his sleeping buddy off the ground and put him on the side of the bed, then laid down himself. For once, relaxing felt good, the world not being in danger and all. He appreciated this short rest Torn gave him, he didn't realize he needed it until now, when his eyes were drooping low. The soft pattern of Daxter's breathe was like a lullaby to him, putting him to rest quickly.


"Don't worry Jak; I'll save you before you know it!"

"Eco freak."

"We've been expecting you."

"Forget the rat! The Barron wants him."

"This eco freak is dangerous!"

"Keeping people alive out here, keeping them full of hope; It can be daunting." Damas hunched, not looking like the normal pride-written Spargus leader. Jak decided to try cheering him up.

"I'd say you made a good life here." The king looked up at the green-blonde man.

"You too must make a life, Jak. Take your destiny into your own hands; Sand cannot keep a shape by itself, but add water, and it becomes maluable. Fate can be such, if you add the right element." The young hero's eyes lit up in realization.

"Eco!"

Damas smiled."Hmm. Our minds think alike. My monks say the world is coming to an end, but I am a survivor. I say we live long after this world dies! Be ready; You are shaping up to be my finest warriors, and I'll need you for the trials ahead. I musn't lose you, like I lost... my son." The leader turned, a depressing look on his face. Jak's pride in the compliments turned into surprise and sympathy.

"You had a child?"

"Long ago, but much has been sacrificed in this war so that others could live. Anyway, it matters not..."


Jak stood from the flipped, crashed vehicle. When he spotted Damas trapped under it, he ran over to him. "Damas!"

The Spargus leader looked up at him with a pained, unforgettable face. "Not...Bad driving, kid. It was a good fight-*cough*-and a good day to die. I'm...very proud to have been by your side... in the end. *cough* This world is not yet out of heroes."

The hero shook his head in disbelief. "We did well together." When he saw the leader start to move, he added, "Don't move, I'll-"

Damas interrupted him in desperation. "Please, promise me one thing. Promise me you'll find my son, Mar. You'll know him when you see this. He's... wearing an amulet, just like it." As the older man's voice strained, Jak looked up, unable to look at the dying man beneath him as he remembered the kid who was him. Jak was Damas' son. "A symbol of our lineage with the great house of Mar." The blonde looked down at his father, at the edge of tears. Damas coughed again. "Save the people, Jak...They need you..."

"...Father."

Veger interrupted the heart-wrenching scene. "Yes, you were that child. I took you from Damas, hoping to harness your eco powers for my experiments. Then, I lost you to the Underground. You seem upset... Did I tell you too late? You were the son of the great warrior Damas. Oh, and he never knew..." The skinny, old elf smirked evilly at Jak. "How delightful."

"AAAHH! VEGER!"


"...Jak! JAK! Wake up, buddy!" Jak's eyes flew open, black orbs vanishing, white and blue returning. All he could see was Daxter's chubby face that had a worried expression plastered on it.

Jak shook his head, croaking out, "Daxter?" to make sure he was really there. Slowly the hero sat up and rubbed the back of his pounding head when Daxter hopped off his chest.

"Got the late night scaries again, pal?" his orange friend asked, sounding scared. All the heir of Mar could do was look at his alarm clock and sigh in disappointment. It was only four in the morning, which would be normal for Torn, but not for him. He was still a teenager, a big hero or not, that needed sleep. Especially when this was his short break from missions.

Jak stood from the bed, cracking his toes. "You go back to sleep, Dax. I'm gonna go shower, see if that helps me go back to sleep," said Jak, reassuring his fuzzy buddy. Daxter nodded, still seeming skeptical. Still, he obeyed, and curled back into a ball on the big bed, passing out in a second. The blonde hero couldn't help but smile at Daxter's concern and loyalty. They've been best friends since Precursors-know when, still are, and always will be until the end. No one could even come half way close to replacing Daxter. What Jak thought was the biggest of them all, though, was when the ottsel would stick around with him always, even if he had turned into a monster after being serperated for two years. The hero frowned greatly from reminding himself of it.

Walking, or rather crawling to the bathroom, Jak slowly slipped off his blue tunic and white pants, greatful that before he went to sleep he took the liberty to take off his heavy boots, scarf and goggles. He didn't have the strength to take them off. He also didn't have the strength to hold his removed clothes, so he tossed them aside to find them later. The tired hero decided to leave his boxers on until he got to the bathroom incase Daxter would be sneaking around instead of sleeping. Slowly and groggily, he opened the door to the bathroom and shut it, locking it behind him.

Peekaboo.

Go away.

Why? It feels nice in here.

You can still feel it without bugging me, you know.

Aww, but that wouldn't be fun now, would it?

I said go away. It's my head, not yours.

Oh, contraire; Remember when you got captured? Yeah, your head has been my head too since then. You'll have to get over it some time.

Ignoring his Dark half, the hero turned the shower lever, cool water spitting out of the shower head in a calm drizzle. He decided to keep his boxers on until the water got hot enough to go in.

Why so boring? You were fun for Erol and that Praxis guy. Hehe. Especially for Erol.

They're gone now. Don't provoke me.

I'll do whatever the hell I want.

Why are you bothering me?

Why? Cause I got nothing else to do. Ever since you became "The Big Hero" for the third time, you haven't used me.

And I'm glad I haven't.

Let me out!

No.

But, Jak-

Jak thanked the precursors there was a knock at the door to disrupt more of Dark's 'negotiating.' The blonde stood sleepily, hearing another knock at the door. "Who is it?" Jak called. He heard a soft sigh through the door.

"Room service! Who else, big guy? You gotta stop bein' so paranoid." The hero smirked at his friend's sarcasm and opened the bathroom door, not caring he was in boxers.

The blonde elf looked down at Daxter, shrugging, "What can I say? It keeps my alive."

"Yeah, well, I say having fun is better than being paranoid!"

"You have a better chance of having fun while you're alive."

Daxter rolled his eyes, not wanting to start a pointless argument with his best friend…Who was currently in boxers. "Whoa, whoa, buddy, pal, get some clothes on before chattin' with ya roomy, will ya?" the orange ottsel said irritatedly.

The hero rolled his eyes, saying with sarcasm, "Sure, I'd love to take a shower in all my clothes." His furry friend just sighed.

"Anyways, why I came to talk to ya quick, I couldn't go back to sleep and wanted to make sure the big bad wolf was okay," Daxter said worriedly.

Jak thought for a moment if he should really tell him about his nightmare, about everything that happened in the prison, how he begged the Precursors each night someone, especially Death, would come and take him away from that horrid cell, about Dark tormenting him every day, how Daxter was the only one who understood him. No, he didn't want to burden Daxter with his meaningless emotions, so just said, "I'm fine, Dax. Go back to bed. I'll be back in a few minutes." The hero had gotten so used to lying about how he was feeling that he even believed himself that he was fine.

"Alright buddy boy, dream time awaits!" the orange ottsel said as he left. The heir of Mar sighed quietly and shut the door, stripping his boxers. Soon, the hot wet drizzle met his body, easing his tense muscles. It was heaven for a short while, until he had finished the cleansing. He turned the lever, the hot heaven vanishing. He grabbed a towel and dried himself. He looked in the mirror and saw himself; tan, decent muscles, scars…He knew how he got almost every single scar. The ones he didn't know about probably formed on his body while he was unconscious. Ignoring the huge green and yellow mess on his head people called hair, he slipped his boxers back on and went outside to grab his other clothes.

The blonde elf slipped on his pants after finding them and decided that was enough clothing. He traveled sluggishly to bed, an animal's quiet breath inviting him. He was soon under the covers, cozy with his best pal. He was warm, comfy, and Dark was quiet for once. This state made him fall fast asleep, enjoying the exhaustion he still felt from today's mission. Rest met him quickly, everything blanking out.