Here's the next part. Sorry it took so long, but life has been determined to distract me as much as possible. There could be quite a few spelling mistakes and such in this, but I think I caught most of them. I'm having to write in Wordpad (sob).

This one turned out a bit longer than I'd anticipated, which could be a good thing? In contrast to Jak's non-running away-ness, in this one he does a hell of a lot of it. I guess I'm just exploring the character. Yeah, that's it...

From the Bottom of my Heart

The flames continued to rise from the blackening wreck of the engine, scorching the sky with orange and red and black. Black like his mind. Black like he wished his heart was. Then perhaps he'd get used to it; leaving things behind. The smell of burning rubber that had at first irritated his senses like nothing else during his first days in Kras now faded into the background. The tires of the wreck in front of him were melting on the track, but it didn't matter. Nobody was trying to put it out, especially not him.

And there was no point. Jak knew Mizo was dead. Not quite cremated, but close enough. All that would be left when the fire died would be ashes, a skeleton of a vehicle and a blackened stinking mass of a man. A man. Nothing more and nothing less. Jakfelt a twinge of regret in the greyness of his heart. It didn't upset him as much as it used to; leaving something behind. He'd done it often enough now that doing so left only an empty, hollow feeling somewhere inside him.

Somewhere, the dark was laughing again. It loved to mock him, mock his humanity and mock his steady loss of it. It grew almost tiring to listen to. The same old tune of delight at destruction and misery. That in itself was worrying; destruction and misery, it seemed, had become constant companions of the grey warrior.

Jak was certainly getting used to walking away from things. He turned and walked back to the garage where his friends would be waiting. The flaming wreckage continued to spark and spit at the surroundings.

---

"I can't believe you managed to dent it this bad," Kiera sighed. "I'm gonna have to replace it. Not to mention the wheels. Again." The mechanic rolled her eyes at the ammount of damage. "And then there's the engi.." Jak cut her off mid-rant, pressing his lips tightly against hers. Kiera's eyes widened momentarily in surprise before they closed and she kissed back.

It as impulse. Defiance against whatever it was that was making him less human, more apathetic. When he laughed he wasn't that amused. If he shed tears, he wouldn't crying. Even as he explored her mouth with his tounge, it was with a detached feeling. Like the wind on his face in flight or skin giving way beneath purple claws, it wasn't him and yet it was his body that felt the sensation.

He had loved Kiera once. Perhaps. Nothing had really been that clear-cut. Nothing ever was with Jak. He wasn't the poetic sort, but sometimes he would imagine that any love he'd had for his mechanic and childhood friend had crumbled to ashes with the rest of his stronger emotions. A shame.

Jak bit Kiera's lip lightly and pulled away. He gave her a half smile in thanks and walked out of the garage more hastily than he'd entered. It was yet another thing that Jak had to walk away from, and it wouldn't be nearly as difficult as it should have been. He rubbed at the black oil staining his hands and smiled ruefully.

---

Jak wondered why he couldn't feel anything. Daxter had noticed something was up, but wisely he didn't say anything. That was how Jak wanted it but, sometimes, he would almost wish Daxter would ask him what was wrong and tell him what he was doing wrong. He wondered when it had begun, the apathy. When had he been screwed over just one time too many? When had he finally had enough? When, when, when?

Not that it really mattered. It had happened now and Jak was one to not think and just do. He'd been thinking too much lately. It was time to do something. But what?

That night, Daxter complained as loudly as he dared around Jak's strange mood. The car which had been almost fixed that day now a smouldering mess. Lingering small flames licked at the engine and seats. A box of matches lay discarded on the floor a short distance from it. Jak grinned at Daxter with a smile that barely reached his eyes.

"Let's get going" he said. Daxter blinked wide-eyed and nodded numbly. It was only a temporary goodbye. It was just one of those things you had to do. The pair turned and left the garage for what would be the last time in a long while. It wasn't running away if you walked. The goodbye note continued to smoulder in the approaching dawn.