Hey there folks. I've been on a bit of a Jak and Daxter hype again, and wanted to finish this old series.
Then I re-read it.
Well, it had to change. XD So I re-wrote it. :) Sorry if it takes me a while, college classes and work don't leave me much time. But I'll try to get as much done ASAP as I can! So if you find yourself at a strange jump, just wait a few days and I should have the next updated chapter up. :) I'll try to keep them in basic order, chapter one stuff in chapter one, etc. But with some of the chapters, this gets impossible/monotonous. So bear with me!!
Just a reminder, this is during/miiight be after Jak 2. Jak 3 was never thought of yet, though I may or may not keep it in mind. ;)
Jak and (*coughsexycough*) Daxter are C) NaughtyDog.
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We were never really good friends anyway.
Our so-called 'friendship' (and I use the term lightly) had begun as the vague misunderstanding of who's girl the mop-top was.
See, Jak had popped up in Sandover one day, no history, no parents, and no voice. His 'uncle' didn't seem to know more about him than anyone else, and for a while the whole town buzzed. But as soon as the house on the cliff was finished and the old green flower-freak moved in, things seemed to settle around town. At least for all the adults.
Being a beach bum myself, I hadn't heard a thing for a while. But the curiosity got the better of me one day when a blonde baby waddled into my territory. After two hours of ensuing banter, it was decided I was the victor as he ran home in fear as soon as I released him. From that day forward, the tormenting of this toddler was my only goal in life. Years passed, and old Green settled down with a fox of his own, surprising everyone. The kid they churned out, thankfully, got her mother's genes.
This new addition to the village was a nice surprise. Jak and I put aside our differences to teach the kid all about the world around us, and the best ways to abuse it. But the years passed too fast, the summers sinking slowly together.
And things changed.
Puberty wasn't a long span for some of us (orange and fuzzy included). But the beginning of it stoked the fires of hatred. Keira was growing up, and so were we, and boy did we notice. Once again we were head to head. but this time I wasn't taller anymore, nor was Jak the gentle type. Even I had to admit, the mild violent streak in him was scary at times.
But after a dozen black eyes and more than a few crabs down the pants, we'd decided a truce was in order. All was forgotten as we slowly grew out of the ape-men we'd become and became curious about our surroundings once more. But this time it was different than before, this time we didn't just wonder. We explored. Mapping our own maps of the jungle, memorizing every detail of the beach, every day was a new adventure for us.
... And the adventures never stopped.
Even with my back turned to him on his shoulder, Jak knew something was amis. Being alone with one person in a place like this brings you close, closer than you'd think possible. Closer than we'd ever bring up. Even those years apart.
So maybe I wasn't the best guy for the job. But I got him out of jail, didn't I? I found him, and I rescued him. And though Jak never really bothered to say thanks, I could tell. There are just... ways. I can still read him like I used to... Not as well. Not as accurate. But I can. Especially at night, when his defenses are down. Then he's like reading a book...
"You ok, Dax?"
I huffed, pushing one of my ears out of my face. "Just peachy, Jak."
I heard him snort in amusement. "Relax, you'll be fine. It's just a routine clean out."
"Routine. Right." What was it with all the 'routines' lately?
Jak's voice came out ever so slightly desperate. "Come on, Dax. Don't be like this now."
"Can I be like this when we get home? Or how about tomorrow at brunch? Or how about--"
"Daxter." His voice was sharp, his eyes glaring at me. I huffed, turning away again.
"Why can't Torn just go clean up after the metalheads himself?"
"You know why."
"Oh right, he's a desk jockey. He may look threatening, but I bet he don't even know what to do with that knife o' his."
My comment pulled a tight smirk from the blonde's lips. I didn't even have to look to see it. When you're as close as we are, you just know these things. You know what to say to get a reaction, you know what buttons to push and just how hard to push 'em. I thought about going on, but I decided not to. For once, I'd let the blonde continue the conversation. If he wanted.
It took a while for his voice to meet my ears again. "You'll be fine, Dax."
"Yeah, I know. But you're still nursing a concussion from the last 'clean up'. And if you pass out, who's gonna save me?!"
Jak smiled again, and I turned to assure myself of the fact. He looked too relaxed.
"I'm serious!"
"I know, Dax."
"I don't think you're taking me seriously."
"I never do, Dax."
"Precursurs, Jak, it's like talking to a wall!"
"That's the point."
I growled between my teeth, crossing my arms once more. "Oooh, so my voice is annoying now, is it?"
The mischievious glint in his glance was enough of an answer. I turned away in a pout. "Well fine then! Talk to yourself!"
Jak's laugh was one of my buttons. I couldn't explain it, but it pissed me off. I never really heard him laugh in Sandover. Just a chuckle here and there, other than the 'laughing-too-hard-to-make-a-sound' times. But now that he'd found his voice, everything about his vocal musings seemed so... degrating. My fur stood up as if I heard nails on a chalk board. The sound was smooth as silk and soft like velvet, a melt-in-your-mouth piece of chocolate for your ears. But somehow, it made me nauseous.
I think I liked Jak best (while in Haven, of course) on those cold nights when he didn't talk. The nights when he'd been out since twilight fighting for his pain, and collapsed in an alley or bunk at the HQ and just waited for sleep to come. I liked the hot nights best, too. Pint-sized rodents like me tend to get cold without a nest to snuggle up into, and on cold nights I was forced into the only crevice I could find - Jak.
Even you'd be surprised what happens on a freezing night in the back corner of an alley after a big fight. More times than not I found myself shivering inside his shirt, listening to him mumble about things I didn't want to care about. But I did. Because somehow on those nights his pain became my pain. And when you're that close to someone all the time... Things get said. Things you can't say any other time. Things that will never get brought up again. Things that get people killed.
But those things never get said. Even though they stay at the backs of our minds they never get said, and thankfully we don't have any more nights like that. We have a place to stay now, the HQ, the garage, the Hip Hog. We may be bag-a-bonds, but we've made one Hell of a home for ourselves here.
Home... I almost sneer. But my thoughts are torn away as the sound of the zoomer stops and Jak gets off at the entrance to the pumping station. Out we go, and he pulls out his blaster. It's not long before we're spotted, and my paws grip his metal shoulder guard as tight as they can as he takes off at a sprint.
