"No. Sit down, try again."
Without a thought, he sat down, face impassive as a frustrated look passed over the old man's face. "You have to think about this more, Torn."
Torn blinked, yellow ringed eyes dull. "Yes, Shadow."
A piercing look.
"Yes... Samos."
"Stand up."
His body wanted to obey. He fought the command, asked himself why he should stand when he knew Shadow... Samos was only asking because he needed to resist.
"Good." The sage smiled softly.
He sighed and relaxed into the chair. After half an hour, he had finally managed to resist one order.
"How do you feel?"
He shrugged, glancing sideways as a flicker of black light caught his attention. "Been better."
"Is your vision settling?"
"Sometimes. I can still see them in the next room, but no more than that."
"That's an improvement." Samos stepped up into the air, pulling out a notepad. "I think we should work on this level of eco."
He wanted to disagree. He didn't like having any eco in him at all. He wanted to purge it out of his system and go back to feeling empty, and starved and in control of himself.
"This level seems to be the point at which we can start adjusting you to the eco compulsions."
"No."
Samos' eyes went wide. "No?"
"I don't want to keep any eco." He glared, daring argument. "I'm not comfortable with it. It makes me act strangely and removes my choice. I can't stand not being to resist orders."
"You're staying at this level, Torn." The order was implicit, but he could hear it.
Scowled. He didn't want to stay like this. He hated being like this. But Shadow said... And what Shadow said had to go...
"No." He stood up. "I won't."
Samos' glare deepened. "Won't?"
"Will not. I'm not comfortable with being helpless, Shadow."
"I order you to sit down."
"No." He felt the urge, was too angry to follow it. "I'm not staying if you're going to be unreasonable." He spun on his heel and stalked out, the eco in the walls surging slightly as he walked past, reaching out to him.
He ignored it and left, leaving Samos standing alone in the room.
The old man shook his head with a wry smile.
Torn sat heavily in his chair, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He didn't like fighting with the Shadow, but he really had had it this time.
"Ol' green givin' y' a hard time?"
"Get lost, rat." He tipped his head back, still able to see the dark smudge on his eyelids that Daxter created. "Where's your better half?"
Daxter bounced over to the desk, sitting himself on the edge. No one was able to get away with slinging insults at Daxter anymore.
No one but Torn. Because Torn didn't mean it.
"She's with Jak and Ashelin down the hall," Daxter grinned at Torn as one eye opened to look at him. "I got bored. So how goes things with log head?"
"Daxter..."
"That bad, huh?" He knelt up and peered at Torn's face. "Y' need anythin'? Water, painkillers, throat lozenge-"
"Out! Out!"
"Sheesh, I'm goin', I'm goin'!" He hopped backwards, bare feet slapping on the metal. "Y' want me to send Ashelin down for some one on one 'relaxation'?"
"OUT!" He roared.
"I'm ou-"
The door shut with a surge of eco. Torn sighed and sank further into his chair.
Sometimes he wandered why he put himself through it, he really did.
He closed his eyes and tried to will away the developing headache.
"Torn?"
He sat up, winced when his neck seized. "Ashelin?"
"You shouldn't be sleeping here." She looked at him, concern written on her face. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah." He managed to straighten, despite his protesting muscles. "What time is it?"
"Half seven. You missed dinner."
"Mm." He wasn't really hungry. "Sorry."
"What for?" She frowned and slid her finger under his chin. "Torn?"
He wasn't sure. Just felt like he should say it. Shrugged and stood up, towering over Ashelin's slight form. "I'm heading back to my room." He picked up his paperwork, only to have it plucked from his hands.
"You don't need that to sleep. Leave it until morning." Her hand wrapped around his, her gaze looking to the faint crackle of yellow around his nails. "You might not agree, Torn, but you've been healthier since you recharged. You don't look as worn all the time. You're sleeping again."
"Don't," he sounded raspy, even for him. "Don't make it sound good."
"I'm not, Torn, I'm just stating what I can see. Eco charging hasn't been all bad for you. Maybe you should listen to Samos on this one."
"You heard us."
"Jak told me to check on you and make sure you were okay. I could guess about what."
"Worry about them, not me. I'm not likely to snap and start killing under the influence of eco." He walked out, only the slightest hesitation in his step when he did so.
Ashelin sighed and shook her head. "What are we going to do with you, Torn?" She looked about the office, covered in maps, pins and labels. "What are we going to do?"
When everyone else got up and made it out to breakfast, Torn had been up for two hours. He sat at the table, striking and marking his papers with a red pen, apparently oblivious to the slow trickle of people that entered.
Samos said nothing, just sat down and started to eat. Torn didn't spare him a glance.
Ashelin came in, took away his papers and put a plate of bread in front of him instead. He looked up at her, she didn't flinch as his eyes locked on her. "Eat."
"I'm not hun-"
"Eat!"
He felt a twinge in his head and mechanically reached for the food, tearing off a chunk. He wanted to tell Ashelin it wasn't fair of her to abuse his inability to fight back, but there was no point.
No one said life was fair.
She smiled at him as he started to eat, putting his papers on her far side as she slid into her chair. "Have you caught up?"
"I never catch up. There's too much paperwork for just the three of us. Jak is no use, Daxter's even less, and Keira keeps coming up to distract Tess. There's three people running this city at the moment and it's not enough. We need to rebuild the council."
"We can't. There's too much anger at Veger at the moment."
"Veger's dead."
"And three council members and half their staff seem to be implicated in the entire affair. We can't rebuild the council yet. We'll have to make do." She looked up and growled in annoyance. "Can't you two knock it off for one meal?"
Jak looked up, eyes wide, his fingers still tangled in one red curl. Daxter smirked at her and slunk further into Jak's arms with a smile. "Jealous, sweetcheeks?"
"I don't go in for little boys," she smiled sweetly.
"Only real men like Torn, huh?"
Torn choked on the bread he was eating. Ashelin glared at Daxter, but turned back to her companion and thumped him on the back. "Are you trying to kill him?"
Silence.
"I... sorry. I didn't think about that."
Daxter still stood against Jak, his fist curled in Jak's shirt. Jak wrapped an arm around Daxter's shoulders, then they looked at each other.
Ashelin could feel the air tense when they did that.
Torn, looking up at them, could actually see the tiniest crackles of eco between them. Not just Dark Eco, but...
"Boys."
They looked away again. "Don't worry about it, sweetcheeks, 'm sure Tornie-boy's prepared to let bygones be bygones."
Torn growled, snatched up his pen and leant over to grab his papers again. "Call me that again, rat, and you'll be feeding the lurker sharks."
"Okay, no Tornie-boy." Finally, they made their way to the table, Jak carefully placing himself between Dax and Ashelin.
Daxter chattered away happily, bickering with Samos. Jak watched his partner with amused adoration, smiling when Ashelin rolled her eyes at them and tried to get the discussion back to the planned redevelopment of the temple district.
Torn just watched them all. The way that the Shadow would reach a hesitant hand to pat Daxter's shoulder. The way that Jak and Daxter would share food, neither looking to the other, just reaching and exchanging on a thought. The way that Ashelin...
He looked back to his paperwork.
He was eight years her senior.
He looked at his nails, at the soft glow he was casting on the polished table.
"I have work to do."
He left.
The day passed, and sunset saw Torn in the barracks firing range, methodically checking over each gun as it was returned by the potential guardsmen who had just been training with them.
He reached up as footsteps approached, surprised when a hand landed in his. He looked up to Ashelin's smiling face, letting her help him back to his feet. "Need something, Ashelin?"
"Me? No?" She glanced at the loaded pistols on his hips. "You missed lunch. I'm making sure you make it to dinner."
"Shad... Samos' orders?"
"No. Mine." She slid her arm through his and started walking towards the palace. "Samos has had his hands full all day. One of the new staff made a lewd comment to Daxter."
Torn's heart almost skipped a beat. "Is everyone all right?"
She shrugged. "The cleaner has been offered a new post somewhere else. Jak and Dax were moved back up to their room to cool off for a while."
"That's better than usual." They usually disappeared off to the old HQ for the night.
"Yeah."
They walked in silence, Ashelin's arm still threaded through Torn's.
She kept glancing at him and away again. Her arm was tense through his. She refused to meet his gaze, her eyes firmly locked on his fingers.
His fingers tensed, making fists, hiding his nails. She blinked and flushed, caught staring.
It was just uncomfortable.
He slid his arm from her grip, stepping away. "I left some paperwork back at the training grounds. I'll go back and get it."
He used the few moments of surprised silence to get far enough away that he could pretend she didn't call after him.
He didn't want her to touch him if she was uncomfortable with what he was.
He was uncomfortable with it. How could she not be?
He went back to the training ground, waited five minutes and then headed back to his office.
He wasn't hungry anymore.
"Torn?"
He looked up, confused to see Jak in his doorway. "You want something?"
"Didn't see you at dinner." He stepped into the office and put a plate on the desk. "Thought you might be hungry."
He suspected someone else had had a hand in getting Jak down here. He dragged the plate over in front of him and examined it. Cold meat, two pieces of fruit and the salt shaker.
Only one person knew he always added salt to cold meat.
"Tess sent this."
"Er..." Jak scratched at his head for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah. She asked me to bring it down to you."
He stared at it for a moment, trying to work out why Tess had sent Jak. Reached the conclusion she thought he needed to speak to someone and Jak was the best candidate in her mind. "I don't need a confessor, Jak."
"Didn't say y' did." A touch of the Sandover drawl in his amusement.
"You sound like Daxter when you do that."
"Worse things to sound like." He watched Torn levelly. "You haven't been right, Torn. Ashelin was really upset at dinner."
"Really upset? Ashelin?"
"Well," Jak twisted a curl around his finger thoughtfully. "For her. She yelled at everyone a lot and rearranged my schedule nine times."
"I don't have time for Ashelin's moods. I have work."
"Oh f'r... Torn, she and Samos are jus' tryin' t' help." Jak folded his arms across his chest. "They don't... she doesn't get it. I know I don't really get it, it's not like me 'n' Dax, but y' can't hide from it. You were changed. Maybe that's what's really getting to you. You were changed, and it might be against what you are, but..." He shrugged and turned and headed for the door. "I know you 'n' Erol were the only survivors of the project, so..." he threw up his arms. "Samos is trying to help you, Torn."
"Like he helped Daxter?"
He saw the crackle go over Jak's form, whisp to the side as it reached for his partner, who would inevitably be down the hall waiting for him.
"So tell him it ain't working. He can't read your mind. Precursors... Torn, y' might not go n a killin' spree when the eco gets to y', but it still hurts, right? Y' gotta start helpin' y'rself."
He said nothing, just pushed away the food and went back to his paperwork. He heard Jak sigh and leave, his boots loud against the floor until the door snapped shut again.
He finished filling out the forms, approving the armour upgrades and requesting that the development of peacemaker ammo officially stop; it was causing too much tension. Sig and Jak would have to live without their death machines.
He looked at the clock. It was nearing midnight.
Stood up and filed the papers and headed up to the throne room where he knew Samos would be. Didn't knock, just entered quietly and looked up above the platform where the throne sat. "Sha- Samos?"
Green pinpricks became visible. "Torn. It's late."
"I know." Stops. Tries to find the words that the eco is trying to suppress. "I don't want to stay charged. It hurts."
"No, you think it hurts. That is the difference. All your pain," Samos lowered down and tapped Torn, right in the centre of the circle branded on his forehead, "is in here."
And that stopped him. "No..."
"Yes. Torn, it hurts because you think it should. Because you cannot adapt to the idea that it does not hurt. The eco is causing you pain because it won't let you accept there is none." And he knows that look, the one that up to now has been reserved for Jak and, sometimes, Daxter. "There's nothing wrong with your body."
"No... the eco... resisting it hurts. Having it there, in me, that hurts. I won't do this."
"Torn, you're doing it again. You're refusing to change. It's in your mind, my boy." Samos hand, gnarled and calloused, brushing his cheek, and he wants to flinch away, but he can't remember the last time someone touched his face. He thinks it was when his tattoos were put on.
"It's too much."
"Not at all. You resisted me today, didn't you? Every other day, you've simply nodded and agreed with me. Today, you fought for yourself. You fought me. You've reached the level where you can resist, Torn. Now I want you to really resist it. It's not hurting you."
He wanted to believe the sage.
"Stop blaming the eco, Torn. You have a lot waiting for you. You just have to realise it." The sage nodded thoughtfully and turned away. "Think about what I have said, Torn."
He watched Samos leave, almost missed the flicker of movement as the main door was pushed open. His hand went for his gun, before his saw the faint mist of red that made him relax. "Ashelin."
"Am I disturbing you?"
Yes. "No. The... Samos just left." He turned back to the throne, walking away from her.
She was oddly quietly on the floor. He glanced back, long enough to see she wore no shoes, her night dress trailing over her feet, her form wrapped in her dressing gown. He looked away again, staring down at his feet.
He could remember when she was a little girl and he was second in command of his unit. When he and Erol still got along.
"Are you all right? You avoided dinner." He could imagine the look that went with the pregnant pause. "Are avoiding me. What did I do, Torn?"
"Nothing." Just grew up, and that wasn't her fault.
"I obviously did something, you're uncomfortable with me, you avoid me, you won't even look at me." her hand landed on his arm, spinning him around. "What the hell has gotten into you, Torn?"
"Nothing, it's what I need to get out." He needed to get out. Away from this lithe, curvy, fierce and beautiful woman the little girl who hung around him had become.
"You were willing to throw away the Underground to protect me." She stepped back as he walked past her, eyes firmly forward. "What changed between us, Torn?"
He stopped. Didn't want her to blame herself. It wasn't her fault. He'd been prepared to give it all up for her. Give anything up. Anything.
His hand trembled. He made a fist, glancing at the offending limb.
"Torn?"
He didn't look back, just tilted his face slightly, the yellow lines tracing his tattoos glowing faintly.
"Come here."
He resisted the urge to obey without thought and turned away again. "No."
"Torn. Come here."
Her voice was soft. He wanted to turn back.
"Torn. Come here. Please."
His resolve cracked. He closed his eyes and turned around, seeing the room imprinted on his eyelids. Took two steps forwards and stopped, drawing in a deep breath.
The faint miasma of red that was Ashelin moved towards him. He stayed still, unmoving, as she stood close, her hand laying on his shoulder softly.
Faint pressure, and his eyes shot open as she drew him down and kissed him. Firmly. Allowing no resistance even though she was gentle.
He froze and she pushed herself up a little more. Her eyes were half closed, lazily watching him as she drew back, their lips scant millimetres apart.
"I told you, I like yellow." And she gave a slight smile.
Torn did the first impulsive thing in six years.
He looked into her eyes, wrapped an arm around her waist and kissed her until she finally let her eyes close.
They stood there in front of the throne, toe to toe and lip to lip, for a long time.
In most ways, nothing changed.
Meals remained chaos. Daxter would spend more time on Jak's lap than his chair, tucking his head under the blonde's chin and arguing with Samos. Jak would face the other way, pretending to listen to Ashelin as she talked about the work ahead.
Torn still ate little, preferring to work during these times, but he didn't have to be ordered to sit and eat. And if Ashelin sat closer to him, her hand coming to rest over his when his jaw would clench or he just had a far away look in his eye, no one mentioned it to their faces.
There were rough times. Times when Torn and Samos would yell at each other and Torn would go out into the training grounds and waste his eco reserves on demolishing targets. Times when he had to be coaxed into snapping open the canister to replenish what he used.
Times when he would sit and stare at the precursor mask, clutched his hands, and look as though he had lost his best friend.
And then, just when everyone thought he'd snap and refuse to deal with it, Ashelin would sit down next him, take one ear in her hand and whisper things no one heard.
And if he hid a smile behind his hand and looked at her like she made it worth going on, no one mentioned that either.