Still not owning Jak and Daxter, or else there would be another game fitting the storyline coming out.
Once again thank you to Cassandra Cassidy, and on to some more moments that shaped them.
84. Out Cold
Time. For once, he felt he had all the time in the world. Watching, waiting, he sat calmly beside the bed of one who had not yet awoken. Though worry would occasionally flit across his face, it quickly smoothed out with the knowledge that this one was alive. Asleep, yes; oblivious to all that was around him, quite true. Out like a light, but blood still flowed safely within his veins, and his breathing formed a steady rhythm which slowly lulled the one who had hoped to stay awake. Shortly, steadily, he too was out cold.
75. Mirror
When I see my reflection, I make a point of not looking. I don't want to see, to be reminded of what I am, who I have become. But even when I don't look, I know. I know that flinty eyes would stare, burning, accusing, from my own reflection. What have you become? they seem to stay, boring past the shields I have built up over the years of trying to survive in the prison, created out of desperation to protect what sense of self remained. Was it all for naught? They'll hate you, you know. When they see you, they'll know everything. What you've become, the things you've done… Why would they want to have anything to do with you? You're nothing but a monster. I can't bear to look, to see. Because when I look into the mirror, the pain of truth stares back at me.
2. Love
He was faking it. No one, not even someone as small as him, could get that drunk that fast. Then again, it was rather amazing that he wasn't emptying the contents of his stomach onto the counter in a rather colorful display of the different liquors that had been found under the counter. He was slurring, singing some song about being 'dry', and now he was trying to kiss Jak. The only thing keeping him away from the poor blonde's face was his hand, as a look of long-suffering humor crossed his face. Tess giggled, apparently completely taken by the act, as the Goodyear blimp of a man drifted close, ranting on about some mission or another he wanted the duo to go on. Daxter suddenly flopped across his arm, a silly grin on his face and a devilish twinkle in his eye. Trust the orange furball to do anything in his power to embarrass his friend.
"I love you, man!"
4. Dark (reprise)
The energy bubbled, mere feet below him. He ran, focusing not on the thought that he might fall in, and to his own demise, but that if it was used on the world so much more would be lost than just his life. When he used the floating cloud of light in the same way he channeled the yellow eco he had encountered before, the machine he fought exploded, sending the head in his direction. His friend, ever loyally at his side, and he shielded themselves, thinking the end was near. When he heard a dull splash, more like something falling into the thick muck of the bog, they turned around in surprise. Seeing the head, and with it their foes, sinking out of sight, they knew for certain that they had defeated the darkness.
10. Breathe Again
He couldn't seem to get air into his lungs. He had gotten wind of the coup just in time to find his wife and son… and to see the ever-growing pool of blood surrounding the still form of his wife. He looked into her eyes, watched as the light faded from them, burning the image into his nightmares for many sleepless nights to come. His son, his little Mar, was not there. The question of whether he had fled and found shelter with someone, or if he had already been murdered in cold blood, his small form dumped into some place where carrion eaters would render it unrecognizable within days, would plague him for weeks, months, years. Time froze as he knelt, trembling, not caring that his wife's blood stained his knees, and he carefully, painfully, closed her eyes for the last time. Unshed tears sat precariously at the edges of his eyes, as they swiftly turned from muted, horrified mourning, to a burning, murderous rage as he turned them to the one that had done the deed. At the back of his mind he wondered if he would ever be able to breathe again.
10. Breathe Again (reprise)
The dull throb across his midriff and the ache in his head spoke of a battle that had not gone well. A cottony, stale-tasting tongue ran across his teeth, trying to restore some form of moisture to his mouth. Eyes crinkled as he attempted to remember all that had happened, but his thoughts were dull, sluggish, and the only thing he knew for certain was that he should have died. He almost wished he had, for then he wouldn't have to live with the dull ache that had become ever present after the coup, and with it the feeling that he couldn't take in enough air, as if a weight was on his chest. Forcing his eyes open, he grimaced at the sand clinging to his lashes, making his vision hazy. Surprise, in the form of a frown, crossed his face as he realized that rather than one of the monks, the young man he had rescued from the desert was sitting beside him. The fact that he was alive, that they both were alive, must have meant that the day star had been defeated, and yet he had the nagging feeling he was forgetting something. Studying the features of the sleeping figure beside him, he dredged up the last conversation he had had with him. He had been dying, of that he had been certain, for he had asked that his son be found. As he had drifted off, his eyes already closed, he had heard something, something important, if he could only remember…
And then, as blue eyes opened and lit up with recognition, and not a small bit of uncertainty, it came to him. In that moment, for the first time in years, he knew he would be able to breathe again.
