Takes place within "The Fire Of Your Pernicious Rage" (Chapter Nine). Jakuelynn breaks down completely after losing Deimin. Jak can't and doesn't know how to fix her. Rated due to mild language and a generally heavy dose of angst.

A/N: This is the result of another plot bunny that was recently born in my head; all linked back to the Blood Ties trilogy (yes, I have a name for it.) If you haven't read the duology, then I INSIST YOU DO THAT BEFORE YOU READ THIS ONE-SHOT. It has major-arse spoilers from "The Fire...", see. Otherwise, enjoy. ~ Mika

Jakuelynn

Dear Day, help me. I don't know what to do.

It's been five months since you went – since you...you...

See, five months, and I still can't bring myself to say it. You could say that was pretty ironic considering what I do for a living has had me dealing in and with it. Never before, though, has it touched me so personally.

Dead. You're dead. Just say it aloud. Say it.

I can't breathe, Day. I can't eat, sleep...I can barely talk. And Jak blames me for it, I know he does. There's something different in his eyes whenever I look into them. Who can blame him? The man he loved as the son he lost died in my arms not four months ago. And it's entirely my fault. He may deny it was, but his eyes say otherwise.

I don't talk to him about it most of all. Nuala – the one woman whom I've ever considered even close to a mother – told me to let it out; if I kept it inside it would slowly poison me and eventually, I would hurt the people I love with it. Not that I haven't already hurt someone I love; let him die in the blazing sand of the Wasteland.

Okay, I sound like a whiny arsehole. But forgive me for it. I've never had to...deal with this before as personally as I did. The only time I've felt like this before you was when Zainen died – again, my fault, because he was freeing me from death or...no, that was it, considering "worse" ended up being my Dark side. Nuala is the closest to understand; her husband went missing, presumed dead. Seven months later, she gave birth to his only son, their sixth and youngest child in all. Additionally, the only child who would inherit Nuala's clairvoyant abilities.

You were always one to stand out from the crowd, Day.

I can't even begin to describe what you meant to me; what you still mean. You took my life, you added colour, you reshaped it, you strengthened it and you made me better because of it. When the pressures of the world got too much, you were always there to relieve them. You spoke the words I never could.

Now I speak for both of us.

And there's your child – your son, Day, whom you told me about – inside me and his father not around. It's...not right, my darling, and I promise I'll find the fucker who did this to you as soon as I can. Right now, I just have to refrain from the desire to kill everyone else; to let Dark take over. Additionally, if I let Dark take over, I would lose our son.

He's all I have of you, and I'm fighting to keep him.

I've already got a name for him, Deimin. It's perfect; I swear it was something you'd come up with. Rufas Day. Whether Day is going to be his middle name or not, I'm not entirely sure considering he's got your surname; after you changed it, not before. That was a smart idea, by the way, you changing your name to take on half of mine. Deimin Mar Ghosten.

But of course, you were much more than that to me. And I loved you for it, I love you for everything we had and I'll always love you.

I'll always love you, Day.

~x~

Jak

"Save the people, Jak. They need you."

The words of my dying father almost forty years ago.

"Save your daughter, Jak. She needs you now more than ever."

The words of Nuala Ghosten almost a few months ago; my son-in-law's mother.

The same, but different. And yes, Deimin and Jakuelynn may never have married, but he was still family. I thought of him as my son.

Keira, I'm stuck. Help me. Our daughter's shut down and I don't know how to open her up again. I touch her, she flinches or slaps me. I talk to her, she builds a wall of silence. I look at her, she looks away. And I hate to say it, Keira, but I'm honest-to-Precursors scared of what happens if she snaps. Going by what happened when Yuhmer Bastard Krazak provoked her at the funeral...If it happens again, worse things could happen. She could kill herself, the baby, Sandover civilians.

Very often, in the dead of night, I've lain in my bed wide awake and heard her sobbing her heart out from the next room. Other nights, I'd hear her move about the house, losing track of the time when she finally returned to bed. If I was twenty years younger I'm sure I'd be able to pull the all-nighters I used to. Now I can't stay up beyond twenty-three hours, although I've heard that's above average for someone my age. Anyway...I'm wandering off track. Nelly hasn't slept or eaten properly, although I distinctly remember feeling the same when I lost you twenty-five years ago. Mind you, I was searching for Jakuelynn and answers at the time with the Morph...and Daxter, of course. Can never forget Daxter. He's a weapon enough on his own.

That was my way of grieving, and I don't know any other way. Jakuelynn doesn't seem to have the energy to lift her gun; can barely look at it, or so I've seen.

She's also been locked away in her work shop for a few months, getting tools and materials together. She told me, in a brittle manner but before she stopped talking altogether, that she couldn't fight, so she was putting her energies into a project for the child she was carrying.

My grandson, Keira. Our grandson. Life's whizzed by so quickly, I can't believe this stage has arrived already. Grandpa Jak. Who'd'a thunk it, as Torn used to say, back before he betrayed me to her.

But Jakuelynn...my little girl. My baby. My sole remaining child. I fear losing her constantly, more so now she's...where she is. I can see Dark in her eyes, the fire; the anger of the Eco combined with a desire for revenge; to kill.

What scares me is that I recognise that look. Last time I saw it, it was in my own eyes, years and years ago.

She reminds me of me when I lost you and Damas.

The same, but different.

~x~

Jakuelynn emerged from her room, startling Jak from his reverie. She stopped the second she sensed his presence, spotting him immediately. Jak locked eyes with his daughter, willing her to stop for just one second. Her own green eyes were terrified. He hoped his were calm.

He stood up, facing her, wanting to reach out to her, to take her hands and not have her own slap his; to hold her without her freezing.

She looked away, shaking her head, and in that instant his heart broke for her.

"Jakuelynn..."

Her name punctuated the heavy silence like a knife. She looked back at him and shook her head. He made the fatal mistake of reaching out, attempting to rest a hand on her shoulder. As soon as he did that, she slapped it again, so viciously that she left a bruise. When their eyes met again, an angry fire had flared in hers. She broke the gaze and moved on to the bathroom.

Jak put his face in his hands, sighing. Yet another attempt had failed. He wasn't going to push it any more today; he may only walk away with one hand to speak of.

Maybe tomorrow, he thought optimistically. Maybe she'll open up tomorrow.

Somehow, though, he secretly doubted it.