A/N: Ugh, I'm a horrible person! I'm sorry this is late. It shall not happen again! I underestimated my intense urge to procrastinate but I shall not let this urge conquer me again! If you ever want chapter updates or want to find out if I croaked or something, I post story updates on ithimh . tumblr. Please feel free to harass me if this ever happens again (which it won't).

Anyway, I hope you all like the chapter. For some reason, I thought the whole prison thing would be done in one chapter but that obviously didn't happen. But now I can get back into Daxter's POV.

DISCLAIMER: Is in the first chapter. If Jak and Daxter were mine...well...I wouldn't be writing this fanfiction because this would have happened in the game.

Jak and Daxter: The Darkness Within
by Jam

Despite the fact that the whole prison was apparently on high alert, the two teens didn't run into anyone else for quite some time. The halls Daxter led them through were eerily empty and silent save for the wail of the alarm and the sound of their footsteps. Rather than fill Jak with any sort of comfort, the fact only set the horned teen's nerves on edge. These halls should have been filled with the thundering of dozens of Krimzon Guards' boots and angry yells, and their absence was more ominous than comforting. His senses heightened, enhanced by Dark Eco, and these senses allowed him to pick up the echoes of a conversation down the hall and around the corner long before Daxter would have heard them. Jak quickly grabbed the back of Daxter's shirt, yanked him back, and pressed a clawed finger to his lips before the younger elf could accidentally give them away with one of his loud protests.

"Seen anything yet?" a muffled voice echoed down the hall - the voice of a Krimzon Guard wearing a full face mask, and he wasn't alone.

"Nah," another Guard replied, his voice a mixture between relieved and disappointed. "But can you believe that it actually got out?"

"I'm just surprised it took so long for that thing to bust loose," the first Guard spat in disgust. "I don't know what the Baron was thinking keeping that Dark Eco freak around. It's not like they got anything useful out of it, anyway. If you ask me, they should've put that monster down as soon as they found it."

"Yea, well, nobody asked you," Daxter hissed venomously under his breath, fidgeting in Jak's loose hold. "Come on, Jak. If we double back, maybe we can find a way to slip around 'em."

But Daxter's words were drowned out by the rushing of blood in Jak's ears. Maybe he couldn't take his revenge on Praxis right now, maybe he had had to let Erol go, but Jak had his limits. He had all of this rage and hate and bloodlust whipping around inside of him like a hurricane, stirred up by the elation that came with freedom, and he needed to get it out. If he didn't…he didn't know what he'd do. He didn't want to know what he'd do, because there was every chance that he could snap at the wrong place at the wrong time on the wrong person…

Jak stared his friend in the eye and tried to convey everything he was feeling, tried to express all of the terrible emotions that were eating him up inside without words. Because there were no words that could ever really express how Jak felt like he needed to go around the corner and rip those Guards limb from limb and make them scream that would make this okay.

"Wait here." He didn't want Daxter to follow him. He didn't want him to see. And maybe it didn't make any sense - it wasn't as if Daxter hadn't seen him kill before - but somehow this was different.

Jak could feel Daxter's eyes on his back long after he'd turned the corner and faced the two Guards. The younger elf had remained strangely silent and Jak couldn't tell if that was a good sign or a bad one. He didn't give himself time to dwell on it. The Guards had quickly noticed him, and they had already raised their weapons and were ready to fire. They wouldn't go down without a fight, and the thought only exhilarated the pale-skinned elf. With a feral grin, Jak let himself descend into the madness stewing in the back of his mind and charged forward.

After that, the rest of their escape was nothing but a blur of red. The red haze of anger that nearly blinded him, the red of the Krimzon Guard's uniforms, and the red of warm elven blood. Jak had enough wits left about him to recognize that Daxter was not a threat and let the younger teen point him in the right direction, but other than that the tortured elf surrendered to the bloodlust that had simmered unchecked within him for the past two years. Jak couldn't have restrained himself even if he'd wanted to. Maybe later he would think back on his actions with shame and disgust, but for now every strangled scream of fear and pain he managed to rip from a Guard's throat was pure music to his ears.

Eventually, their running came to an end. The last air vent dumped them into some dank, flooded supply room that didn't look like it had been used in years. After all the fighting and yelling and sirens, this room seemed almost eerily silent. The dripping of water leaking from the ceiling echoed around them, strangely soothing. Jak leant up against a pile of crates and caught his breath, let his mind clear. He felt…good – better than he had in ages. The pale teen felt lighter, less angry and saner now that he had gotten some of the pent up violence out of his system. There was a small part of him that shrank away in horror at what he'd done, that mourned for the loss of life, but it was nearly crushed under the weight of morbid satisfaction.

Nearly, until he glanced at Daxter. The younger boy stood a few feet away leaning on another pile of crates with one hand. The other hand was buried in his yellow-red hair. The teen wasn't looking at Jak and the older teen frowned at his friend's back, wondering what the other elf was thinking. What did Daxter think of Jak now? What had he been thinking while he'd listened to Jak cut through Krimzon Guards as if they'd been no more than pesky Lurker rats? How could he stand to be within 50 feet of him after what he'd done?

There was a time when Jak hadn't even had to look at his friend's expression to be able to tell how he was feeling. More often than not, Daxter's body language and the noises he made were more than enough. But time had passed, and both of them had changed. There was tension in the flame-haired elf that hadn't been there before, a harried edge to his posture that he couldn't quite manage to hide behind his familiar mask of humor. There was a time when Jak would have known exactly what to do to reassure his friend, to cheer him up and make him smile, but now he wasn't sure he trusted himself to try. The lighthearted boy from Sandover, with the lemon-lime hair and carefree smile, seemed like a fanciful dream from an eon ago.

Jak stared down at his hands, clothed in the gloves that Daxter had brought for him and now covered in the blood of elves just like him and Daxter. He had dreamed about this moment, about somehow breaking free and spilling the blood of every last Guard and scientist in this forsaken place, but Daxter had never been a fixture in any of these dark fantasies. Even if he hadn't thought the other teen dead, Daxter would have been out of place. Daxter was…

Daxter was smiling at him when he dared to look back up and, though the grin was a bit wobbly and tense, it seemed genuine. And yet, despite his smile, he couldn't hide the flash of fear in his eyes. Fear that Jak knew he had caused. Jak didn't understand how the other teen could stand there and look at him, covered in blood as he was, and still be able to smile like that – like nothing had changed between them, like Jak hadn't changed – but he supposed there were just some things he would never understand about Daxter no matter how long he knew him.

"Got that outta your system?" Daxter asked with a raised eyebrow. "'Cause, uh, there's gonna be just a tiny bit of a problem if you go apeshit over every KG you see outside. The streets are crawlin' with 'em. I mean, don't get me wrong – I hate 'em as much as the next guy…"

Outside…

"Anyway," Daxter rolled his shoulders as he came closer, a calculating look on his face that Jak wasn't sure really belonged there or not. But anything was better than fear. "Before we can go frolicking in your newfound freedom, we gotta make sure you won't send the whole city into a panic."

In the end, there wasn't all that much they could do about Jak's rather demonic appearance. The blood at least wasn't too much of a problem – according to Daxter, this was a very violent city and a guy walking around covered in blood honestly wouldn't prove all that shocking. His new goggles easily hid his unnatural black eyes, but his pale, almost grey complexion, horns and claws presented a problem. If anyone asked any funny questions, they could say that Jak's complexion was caused by some sort of illness, and maybe they could attribute the nails to eccentricity, but how did you explain two black bones growing out of someone's skull? And, for that matter, how did you explain away the crackling aura of Dark Eco that clung to Jak like a second skin?

For the horns, Daxter made due by retying Jak's cowl around his head sort of like a bandana. It didn't hide the horns completely, but it made them less obvious and Daxter was hoping that the cover of night would make them even less obvious until they could think of something better. As for the Dark Eco, if Jak didn't find some sort of way to suppress his aura, it would only be a matter of time before the Krimzon Guard were onto him. All they'd have to do was follow the trail of screaming, terrified citizens. He had been figuring out how to supress it by himself back at Sandover, but it had been two years since he'd tried it and he had been a different person back then. Even though he'd still had the anger and the bloodlust, there'd still been some measure of control. He had had the urge to kill but he hadn't wanted to, not really. But now?

"This is just like that time at Gol and Maia's place," Daxter grinned suddenly, snapping his fingers. "When we had to piss you off to get your Dark Eco mojo flowin'. You just need to think of something…calming. Relaxing. Like, I dunno…naked babes on the beach!"

That startled an amused huff out of Jak – not much of a laugh but more than he'd done in longer than he could remember. No, that image wasn't particularly calming. The only 'babe' Jak had ever known had been Keira, and the green-haired mechanic was like a sister to him. Thinking of her only made him wonder how she was doing and if she was still alive. If Daxter had managed to get by in this horrible world for two years, than surely Keira and Samos had as well. Maybe the younger teen even knew where they were!

But these thoughts, though a weight off Jak's shoulders, still weren't calming. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been calm. Even back in Sandover he hadn't exactly been the most relaxing person to hang around, always looking for the next thrill or adventure. He had been restless then and Jak was even worse off now that he had this bloodthirsty itch under his skin. But if he didn't think of something, he would just be dragged back into this Precursors-forsaken prison. If Daxter was right and the streets were swarming with Guards, then it would only be a matter of time before they killed Jak or threw him back into prison to be Erol's plaything again. He'd take down as many Guards as he could, but he wouldn't be able to fight them forever and he would have to worry about protecting Daxter as well.

No, none of this was particularly calming…What had always calmed him down when he was younger?

Honestly, it didn't take long to figure out. The answer stood right next to him. Daxter somehow always managed to be the answer. Jak could remember warm nights after another hair-raising adventure or run through the jungle temple, after the adrenaline rush had long since worn off, spent lounging on the beach watching the odd green star inch across the night sky. He could remember the roar of waves crashing against the stone sentinels, the smell of grass and sea salt, the cry of gulls who hadn't settled down for the night, the creak of water wheels perpetually turning. He could remember Daxter babbling about everything and nothing, gossiping about the villagers and groaning about whatever Samos had made them do that day. Sometimes the younger teen would make up stories about the green star, what it was and how it had gotten there. It seemed like a lifetime ago since they'd last done that, but Jak could remember everything.

"You good?" Daxter smirked at him knowingly, and Jak realized with a start that his aura was…well, not gone, but no longer stretching out in a four foot radius. It had retracted and settled down somewhat, only setting off a whip of Dark Eco every so often instead of every second. Jak still thought he was completely conspicuous, but he didn't particularly want to wait any longer. Freedom was apparently only a few feet away, through an opening near the ceiling. He didn't know what it was used for, or why the Guard had left it wide open, but he didn't care. Jak couldn't see the sky from here, couldn't smell the night air, but he could imagine it. He could imagine what it would be like not having these thick metal walls surrounding him, hemming him in, crushing him until there was nothing left…That thought was enough for Jak to get enough of a hold of himself to squash down the rest of aura, until just the barest tendril of Eco lashed out scarcely noticeable in the dark. It wasn't as if the boiling tempest of emotions within him had suddenly evaporated – it still raged within him like wumpbees swarming under his skin – but, at least for now, he had a very fragile grip on it. Jak could hold himself back long enough for them to get somewhere safe…he hoped. He couldn't let this opportunity slip just because he couldn't manage his anger.

The pale elf climbed the stack of damp boxes next to the window and hauled himself onto the ledge. He barely spared a cursory glance down below for Guards before throwing himself out and down to the street. A thick layer of sand or dust softened his landing and shifted with every step he took away from the prison. There were a few other elves out on the street that night, and they glanced suspiciously at him from the corner of their eyes, but none of them wore the infamous red Krimzon Guard armor and they all gave Jak a wide berth. If they thought it strange or alarming that someone had apparently just escaped from the prison, they wisely kept this to themselves, kept their heads down, and walked just a little bit faster. Jak heard Daxter follow him a few seconds later, and then a boney fist punched him softly in the shoulder. Thankfully for Daxter, the older teen was either still calm enough not to accidentally rip his arm off, or he was just too stunned to pay that much attention. Jak couldn't call the night sky beautiful. Rather than the pure, dark cerulean that had painted the sky over Sandover, the sky above this city was a strange, muddy mix of dark bluish-green mixed with brown. Smoke billowing up from the city blocked out most of it, but Jak could see the green star in the distance, peering behind what could have been a cloud or a particularly thick bit of smoke. None of that mattered, though, when the reality was that he stood under open sky.

"We're free, Jak, thanks to me! Nice to breathe some fresh air, huh?" 'Fresh' was another relative term, but Jak wasn't going to complain about that either. He had nothing to complain about. If not for Daxter, Jak would most certainly have been dead by now. Instead he was standing here, in this ramshackle, dusty looking city next to his best friend, who was very much alive and real. This time when he turned to smile at Daxter, he grinned openly, fangs and all. Neither of them noticed the elderly elf standing down the street, watching them with narrowed eyes. He didn't fit in with any of the other elves milling about the streets almost as if they were in a haze. Rather than the drab browns and tans worn by the other elves, the old elf wore hooded, vibrant blue robes that appeared to be well taken care of. Silvery-white hair poured down his back and covered his gaunt cheeks. He seemed almost regal, standing proudly in the middle of the street clutching a staff not unlike a king might hold a scepter. He watched the two strangers walk down the street, the shorter of the two gazing about him with what could have been awe, though the old elf couldn't see what was so awe-inspiring about this dump of a city.

"Hello, strangers," the elf called, stepping forward to greet them. He frowned when the shorter one, a disturbingly pale young elf, walked right past him. Not one to be ignored, the elf reached out and placed an arm on the pale stranger's arm to try and stop him. "My name is Kor. May I help – ah!"

An inhuman snarl ripped from the stranger's throat as the elderly man's hand was suddenly caught. He thought that maybe this was what it would feel like to have his hand crushed between two gears, slowly squeezing until there was nothing left but dust and pulp. Little flashes of lightning flickered off of the stranger, the deep purple of Dark Eco, and behind the stranger's goggle Kor thought he might have glimpsed the black emptiness of the abyss…

"Alright, break it up, break it up!" a grating, nasally voice suddenly shouted as a slightly taller elf with the most vibrant hair Kor had seen in a long time stepped forward. The people of Haven City all had hair in dull shades of browns, blondes, reds, and black, but this teenager had hair like a fiery plume of yellow and red. Kor would have thought it dyed if he didn't know that almost no one could afford such a luxury. The teen attempted to push him and the pale stranger apart, but he really only succeeded in shoving Kor back a few paces. At least he had his hand back…though it would be a while before he could actually feel it again "Sorry about that…"

"No harm done…" Kor muttered, eyeing the two elves warily.

The pale stranger eyed him right back, his aggression only barely held in check by the hesitant hand placed on his shoulder by his loudmouthed friend. "You seem like a reasonably smart man. I want information. Where the hell am I?"

"Well, my angry young friend," Kor replied sarcastically as he brushed off his robes with no small amount of disdain. These elves needed to learn respect… "You are a guest of his majesty, Baron Praxis, the ruler of glorious Haven City."

Scorn and digust dripped off of every word. The old elf held no reservations about speaking his mind. He hated the Baron with a white-hot passion, perhaps more so than others, and it seemed that the young stranger shared this hatred. It practically rolled off of him in waves. "I was just a 'guest' in the good Baron's prison."

"Inside a cell or inside a city, walls surround his both. We are all his prisoners…" Kor trailed off as the thunder of several pairs of combat boots stomping more or less in time approached from behind, and he turned to see a pack of Krimzon Guards headed their way. That was never a good sign, especially with guns already drawn. Krimzon Guards typically patrolled the streets alone, and to see a group like this never heralded anything good. "Talk about being in the wrong place at the wrong time…I-Id move on, if I were you…"

Behind him, the violent stranger tensed like drawn bow, like a Peacemaker ready to be fired, as the Guards drew closer. "By order of his eminence, the Grand Protector of Haven City, Baron Praxis, everyone in this sector is hereby under arrest for suspicion of harboring underground fugitives," the Guard in front barked once he was within earshot of the uneasy crowd that had started to form at their arrival. "Surrender and die!"

"Aaah, excuse me, sir," the fiery-haired elf actually took a step toward the Guards, seemingly unafraid of the armed and deadly elves. Either he somehow remained unaware of the infamous brutality of the Krimzon Guard, or he was a complete idiot. "But don't you mean surrender OR DIE?!"

"Not in this city…" Kor protested, backing away from the Guards as quickly as he could hobbling on his walking stick. Even the loudmouthed teenager shuffled away warily, but the pale stranger took an aggressive step forward. More tongues of Dark Eco lashed out around him like a cloak of lethal tentacles. The boy's fingers - were those claws?- twitched at his sides, as if he were actually eager for a fight. This could prove interesting... "Protect us from these Guards, and I'll introduce you to someone who can help you!"

The Guards chose that moment to attack, charging forward with their guns raised. The resulting fight…no. Calling it a fight implied that the Guards had some small chance of winning. In reality, it was nothing more than a bloodbath, but Kor still found it enjoyable to watch. The elderly elf could appreciate power and strength, valued it greatly in fact, and it pained him that his frail and failing body limited him so much. He'd make do, though, by watching this pale youth dart in and out of the mob of Krimzon Guards with the speed and grace of a seasoned warrior, a natural killer. Fully grown men in the finest armor dropped like weak, pathetic flies before him.

Honestly, it was beautiful. Kor chuckled under his breath as the citizens of Haven City began to scream and run, terrified of the creature of Dark Eco tearing their so-called 'protectors' to shreds. They should have been cheering him on! Finally, someone who could stand up to the Krimzon menace that tormented them each and every day, and they reacted with fear. Only the other teenager remained, looking on with the slack-jawed, horrified expression of someone who was witnessing a train wreck and unable to look away. When the massacre finally ended, the pale teen stood in the middle of a pile of carcasses, panting heavily and scowling despite his victory. When Kor glanced again at the other teen, his horrified expression had been wiped away almost as if it had never been there at all.

"Very impressive…" Kor complimented the violent, pale-skinned elf. He could compliment true artistry when he saw it. "What you just did was very brave. This child is important."

He gestured to the young boy who had been hiding behind his robes the entire time, shy by nature and frightened by all of the bloodshed. He, too, was an anomaly among the peoples of Haven City. His hair was a vibrant green the likes of which simply did not exist, and he had somehow managed to cling to the innocence of childhood when all other children his age had already long since become jaded by the world. The fiery-haired teenager frowned at the child and crouched down to get a better look at him. He peered at him longer than Kor really liked, a strange spark of something almost like nostalgia flashing through his eyes before he snorted and stood back up. "This kid? He looks kinda scruffy."

The three elves paused as a Hellcat Cruiser flew past the alleyway, and they all breathed collective sighs of relief when the Krimzon Guard behind the wheel didn't notice the pile of his fallen comrades. That luck wouldn't last for long, however.

"Thank you for your help, but I must get this boy to safety," Kor took the young child by the hand and began to hobble out of the alleyway, but that grating voice, like nails on a chalkboard, stopped him.

"Hey! What about us?"

"There is an underground group waging war against Baron Praxis," he threw over his shoulder. "Its leader, the Shadow, could use fighters like you. Find a dead-end alley near the city wall. Ask for Torn. He can help you…"

Kor pondered on his meeting with the two elves as he walked away and disappeared into the night. The pale elf hadn't been at all what he'd expected, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. It simply meant that the next few months would prove far more entertaining than he had been hoping. It was almost a shame that the Dark Eco child would have to die.

Jak kept his eyes on the elderly elf's back until he had disappeared around the corner, and even then his nerves still wouldn't settle down. One thing Jak had always been able to trust was his gut feeling about things, and every instinct he had told him that Kor was trouble. Jak would have to keep an eye on him if they ever ran into each other again. He was pulled from his thoughts when Daxter suddenly let out an unnecessarily loud yawn as he shut his eyes stretched his arms over his head.

"Man! I dunno about you, but I've had enough excitement for one day! We can fight the Man all you want, tomorrow. I got a place where we can crash. It's not much, but it's got all the comforts of home."

Home…?

"Daxter…?"

"Hmmm?" Daxter paused mid-stretch to lazily glance at him out of the corner of his eye.

"Thanks." Jak didn't think he would ever be able to say that enough, let alone repay Daxter for what he'd done for him.

Daxter let his arms swing to his sides and grinned again, and, unlike all the others, this one was free of any trace of fear or anxiety or forced humor. This one was 100% Daxter. "No problem, tough guy. But you owe me, big time! I'm talkin' life debts and firstborns, here. And, um…do something about that lightning stuff, wouldja? Your homicidal is showing."

I will see you soon! Thank you for all of the lovely reviews!