A/N: "But two years can change a person. It gives a person time to think and linger on all of those 'what ifs,' and stew on the fact that, no matter how much you might want to, you can never go back."

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

Torn glared down at the collage of maps and newspaper clippings strewn across the desk in front of him. Every failure and mistake he had made in the last few months laid out before him in black and white and illuminated by the flickering glow of the solitary incandescent bulb dangling above him. On top of the pile was a newspaper article from just the day before hailing the public execution of two suspected members of the Underground. Of the two of them, only one had actually been a member. The other poor sap had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Underneath that article was a photograph of a burning warehouse near Dead Town where Torn had been stocking ammo and supplies – until the KG had found it and slaughtered everyone caught inside. And beneath that, the death toll of yet another neighborhood purge for 'suspicion of harboring Underground fugitives.'

Not all of the news was bad. Most of the time the missions themselves were actually successful, but nothing the Underground did seemed to make much of a difference these days when they were outnumbered five hundred to one – more if you included the Metal Heads as well. They were losing more and more good women and men every day, and citizens these days were wising up to the fact that joining the Underground was tantamount to a death sentence. It was a miracle that Torn still had any contacts left on the inside, though it was really only a matter of time before they were lost as well…

The Underground was losing the fight for the city. He sometimes wondered, when he was feeling particularly bitter, who would destroy the city first. The Metal Heads clambering outside the Wall, or Baron Praxis himself slowly poisoning his own city from within?

At least with all the chaos of the past week, some of the pressure had finally lifted from their little ragtag band. The Guard didn't have the resources to spend on them when they had a rogue experiment blowing up parts of the city. It was almost funny. Nothing Torn or the rest of the Underground did seemed to make a real difference anymore, but in less than a day that kid and his loud-mouthed sidekick had managed to land a devastating blow against the Krimzon Guard – and not just by blowing up their stockpile of ammo. There hadn't been this many casualties in the KG in years, not since the slaughter at Dead Town.

His contact in the Guard had only just reported the carnage Jak had caused at the prison the day he'd escaped. With all of the confusion and her place in the Guard's hierarchy, it was difficult for her to get messages through to him. It wasn't as if Torn hadn't already known about the deaths at the prison. With all of the Guards stationed there, most likely shooting to kill, it would have been impossible for Jak to escape without getting his hands dirty. And then he had met Jak for himself and experienced his aggression firsthand, and he'd had his suspicions. But what his contact had managed to convey in her curt, encrypted message made Torn's skin crawl, and he'd seen his fair share of atrocities both in and out of the Guard. Not a single soul had been left alive between the cell block Jak had escaped from and whatever hole he'd managed to crawl out of. The kid had stormed through like a hurricane, leaving nothing but crushed bones and broken bodies in his wake.

Not all of those Guards had been corrupt bastards like their captain. Torn had probably worked alongside most of them, not so long ago. Some of them had just been young men and women who would have done anything to keep their captive loved ones safe. They hadn't deserved to die like that – torn apart limb from limb, ripped apart piece by piece. Almost…methodically, as if with the intent to cause the most amount of pain. Torn wasn't entirely sure anyone deserved that…

And yet here he stood sheltering their murderer under his own roof.

Torn looked up from his work to glare at the Eco-infused elf that had been causing so much trouble. He had and his friend had both claimed the bunk on the left closest to the entrance even though dozens of identical empty cots sat all around them. The loudmouth had, thankfully, passed out almost immediately; but Jak had stayed up for a long time just watching him. Torn felt those inky black eyes on him, analyzing him, searching for potential weaknesses. The kid could stare all damn night if he wanted to but he wouldn't find any. A kid. Whatever the Baron had done to him, whatever he had been before, that pale creature with eyes more bloodthirsty and calculating than any Metal Head's was no kid.

Torn eyed the young red-head lying next to Jak on the small cot and the Eco crackling unchecked against his skin and wondered not for the first time how the teenager was still alive. Torn had felt those very same tendrils of Dark Eco lancing against his skin burning like cold fire. Everyone knew how lethal the toxic substance was. It was unfortunately all too common for workers at the mine or the drill platform to die from exposure to the volatile Eco – sometimes from unfortunate falls into pits, or explosions or leaks due to faulty equipment or simple error. The bodies, if any remained, were always warped and twisted almost beyond recognition. And yet Daxter had never hesitated when it came to touching his friend. He had even used himself as a shield between Torn and Jak more than once and had never seemed particularly worried about his own life. He could lie there next to Jak practically wrapped in a blanket of Dark Eco and sleep as soundly as a baby.

Across the room, Daxter flopped onto his back and began to snore lightly, and that seemed to be Jak's cue to move. The shorter teen carefully slipped from the bunk as silently as a ghost. His Eco slid from the other teen almost reluctantly as he padded toward the entrance.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Jak came to a halt in the short hallway to the entrance, his back to the ex-Krimzon Guard. His aura flared once briefly and violently before settling down to almost nothing.

"…I need to see a friend."

Torn did not have time to deal with this, whatever this was, on top of everything else. "You go out there and slaughter more of the people I'm trying to save, don't bother coming back."

For the first time since he had met him, Torn didn't see a single flicker of Dark Eco. When Jak glanced at him over his shoulder, the kid barely managed to hold his gaze before determinedly looking away again. He seemed…smaller without the Eco. Less menacing. How old was this kid, anyway?

"I'm sorry for trying to kill you." When those black eyes met Torn's again, he thought he might have actually seen something like regret. "I'm not letting it happen again."

Jak could feel those steely blue eyes burning into his back long after he had left the hideout. Morning had dawned dim and dreary in Haven, but memories of the night before still lingered like cobwebs at the front of Jak's mind. He could still feel Daxter's blood congealing under his claws even though he had washed them what felt like a dozen times. Whatever Daxter had told him last night, whatever the younger elf might believe, Jak would not trust himself around his friend or anyone else any longer until he had gotten some help. He couldn't function if he couldn't even look at someone without slipping into a blood rage, and he refused to hurt Daxter ever again. Daxter would not be happy about being left behind, but Jak hoped that he would be faster and far less conspicuous on his own, and his friend had seen him spill enough blood the last couple of days…

The two teenagers had collected a few Metal Head skull gems with Sig out on the beach the day before, but, in all the chaos of last night, they had left them back in the water slums. Somehow Jak needed to make his way all the way to the water slums, sneak into the ruins of Daxter's old house and get the gems, and then make his way to the Oracle, all without getting caught in broad daylight by the veritable swarm of nervous, trigger-happy KG prowling down every street and lurking in every alley. And that was assuming the gems hadn't melted in the fire or been picked up by scavengers already. The task seemed nearly impossible, but terrible odds had never deterred Jak before.

Before Jak left the alley, he made sure that his scarf covered his horns and the lower half of his face and that he had pulled his goggles down over his eyes. An ugly, oversized brown jacket had been in the pile of clothes Daxter had given him, and the large pockets hid his conspicuous, black talons from view. The disguise shouldn't have worked, but the Guards' frayed nerves worked in his favor. Fear told them to look for a wild monster crackling with Dark Eco, blood dripping from its teeth and claws, and blinded them to anything else. For the moment Jak looked like a scruffy, suspicious homeless person, like everyone else in this part of the city. If he just kept calm and didn't let the Krimzon Guards bother him, everything would go fine…

It felt strange walking down the street without Daxter yammering away beside him. For the first time since he had escaped from the prison, Jak was alone again. Strangely enough, the thought didn't bother him like he thought it would. He wasn't really alone – not anymore. Not only did he have Daxter back, but he thought he might be able to count Sig as a friend. And, if he could go five minutes without trying to kill him, he might be able to count Torn as a, well, as an ally at least, if nothing else.

As he walked through the streets and alleys of the slums, he noticed that the number of Krimzon Guards on patrol had more than doubled. Now more elite Guards in stark yellow armor also stalked the streets, and Hellcat Zoomers and Cruisers hovered threateningly overhead. The people around him hunched in on themselves in an effort to appear smaller and scuttled as quickly as possible to wherever they needed to go. No one spoke, at least not within earshot of a Guard, and they kept their wide-eyed, fearful gazes trained firmly ahead or on the dirt beneath their feet. The Guards were more aggressive than Jak had seen them outside the prison's walls. They held no qualms over shoving citizens out of the way with the butts of their guns, or their gauntleted fists.

One thing he had to give them as Jak stoically walked past a Guard shoving an old woman to her knees – they treated every citizen equally regardless of age or ability. What no one else could thankfully see was the blood filling Jak's mouth as he bit the inside of his cheek. No one could see the lightshow going on inside of his pockets as he let Dark Eco arc uncontrolled over his fingertips. No one could see the murder glinting in his black eyes as he watched the Guards from behind his goggles. He managed to get to the water slums without incident, but as he walked down the narrow, rickety walkways and the concentration of Guards increased even further, his tenuous grip on control began to slip little by little. A Guard nearly shoved him off the side of a walkway and Jak had to stop and close his eyes and let the wave of killbreakrend wash over him before shakily moving on again. Hopefully the people around him thought the tenseness in his back and shoulders came from fear.

Not nearly soon enough, the ruins of the house he and Daxter had stayed in came into view. Whatever wood had made up its construction had burned away, leaving behind a desolate metal skeleton warped from the heat of the flames. A squadron of KG wearing yellow armor stood watch in front of the house, shifty-eyed and fingers already resting on the triggers of their guns. There was no way Jak was going to be able to sneak past them. Even now, nearby patrolling Guards were giving him lingering stares. While there had been more regular citizens outside of the water slums, here he saw almost no one who wasn't a Guard.

It made sense that most people would stay away or locked up in their homes until the situation had blown over, but it still set Jak's teeth on edge. Instead of walking directly toward the house, he turned the corner and decided to circle around and see if he could find a better way in. As he did, a flash of something brightly colored – something sadly rare in this monochromatic city – caught his eye. Bright, purple fur. Bulbous, yellow eyes. There was a Lurker here in the city, except it looked like no Lurker Jak had ever seen. It stood upright rather than hunched over, and wore spectacles and a collared shirt. He stared wide-eyed at the Lurker and expected the familiar anger to rise up like it usually did, like it did when he saw a Guard. He had killed so many of those creatures, and they had tried to kill him, too. Had tried to kill Daxter, and everyone else he cared about. But the anger didn't come, only confusion and curiosity.

The Lurker, as well as several civilians including a young woman clutching at the hands of two children, were surrounded by Krimzon Guards with guns lifted and ready to fire. Jak glanced once more toward the ruins of Daxter's house before ducking between two houses so he could watch out of sight. The Guard's apparent leader took an aggressive step toward the cowering citizens, causing them to flinch back and causing the younger of the two children, a mousy little brown-haired boy, to cower behind the young woman's legs.

"You really expect us to believe it was living here under your noses this whole time and not one of you knew a damned thing? This is your last warning! Where is the Dark Eco freak? Who is he working with?!"

Surprisingly, it was the Lurker who spoke. Not once had Jak ever encountered a Lurker that spoke. He had assumed they had communicated some sort of way – they had villages and had built catapults and ice-digging machines and all sorts of things, and they had obviously understood Gol and Maia. Jak knew very well that there was more to communicating than simply words. The way the Lurker in front of him lifted its massive paw-like hands in a placating gesture even as it subtly shifted just enough to put itself between the Guards and the children told Jak more about it than the words that followed ever could. "We not hiding anything, we swears, right? All of us just as surprised as - !"

The Lurker's voice transformed into an animalistic howl as not one, but three Guards stepped forward and electrocuted it. It collapsed onto its back and lay there twitching even after the Guards stepped back. The crowd looked horrified, and terrified, but not surprised.

"You'll keep your trap shut when your betters are talking, animal," the leader spat venomously. "Round them all up! Maybe you lot will feel more cooperative inside of a cell."

Jak didn't want to hear any more. He couldn't. Those Guards, who were meant to be protecting people, were going to throw two innocent children into that hellhole he'd festered in for two years where they'd freeze and starve and be forgotten about, because the Guards at the prison had forgotten about the less-interesting prisoners all the time, and they would wither away and die because of him. Because death followed Jak like a shadow, whether by his own hand or by another's it seemed, and these people were the unlucky casualties. He wouldn't let these people come to any more harm because of him.

He wanted to leap forward and sink his claws into each and every Guard. Tear them apart. Listen to the sweet crunch of their bones snapping in his hands and death rattling in their chests. Sink his fangs into their throats and pull but he couldn't. He could not. As the urge to kill rose like bile up the back of his throat, Jak focused his gaze on the young woman, maybe a mother or an older sister or just someone who cared, who had shoved the children behind her; on the Lurker who was struggling to pull itself to its feet; on the pale and terrified faces of the innocent people backing away from the Krimzon Guards advancing on them. If he let go, there was every chance that he might accidentally kill one of the people he wanted to protect, and he couldn't depend on Daxter to break through the madness and calm him down.

But he couldn't stand by and do nothing, either.

Jak dug his claws into the palms of his own hands as he stepped back out into the street and the pain almost, almost, helped distract him. "Hey! I heard you were looking for me?"

Almost as one, the squadron of Guards turned to glare at him instead, and, after he had pulled down his scarf and lifted his goggles, he certainly had their attention.

"Is that - ?!"

"It's the Dark Eco freak!"

"Get him!"

What followed might have been the most difficult fight of Jak's young life. Not because he couldn't handle the eight Guards he had confronted or the dozen more that had stormed over due to the commotion. Not even because he had to hold back on his Eco and rely on kicks and punches made awkward by the fact that he couldn't form a proper fist with his claws. But the savagery that the Eco had instilled in him called to him, it cried out for blood and pain and suffering and it wanted him to let go. Jak wanted to let go. It would be so much easier, wouldn't it? So much more satisfying if he just killed them instead of wasting time knocking them unconscious. And they deserved it, didn't they? To die screaming and terrified. They all did.

The pale spectre grabbed the next Guard that approached him by the throat in that vulnerable hole in the armor between the chin guard and the breastplate and lifted him into the air. He watched as the Guard struggled and writhed and clawed uselessly at his hand with pitiless black eyes. Why was he holding back? Who was he protecting by letting them live? If he twisted his wrist, just so, this bastard would never hurt anyone ever again. Or he could draw it out, make them suffer like they'd made him suffer.

He only hesitated for a moment, but it was long enough for another Guard to get behind him and send a jolt of electricity shooting up his spine. Pain the likes of which he hadn't felt since the prison reddened his vision and snapped the little bit of control he had left. Jak threw his captive Guard into the murky water below and whirled around with a snarl warping his face and lethal Eco already beginning to crackle along his skin, but a massive, purple paw shoved his victim out of the way before he could get to him. Startled, the teen blinked owlishly up at the seven-foot tall Lurker beaming down at him.

"You no worry!" it crowed almost cheerily. "Brutter watch you back!"

With that, the Lurker turned and carelessly swatted another Krimzon Guard into the muck below. Shocked out of his encroaching thirst for blood, Jak quickly turned to do the same. Between the two of them, within minutes the small army of KG had been reduced to unconscious red and yellow lumps on the walkway. Those who had fallen into the water below sank slowly out of sight, shot by their own automated defense system, but Jak couldn't find it in himself to care. None of the Guards had died by his own hands and, though the citizens he'd helped save stared at him with mixed looks of horror and disgust, all of them were alive.

He watched as the Lurker, Brutter, knelt down to check on the little boy still clinging to the young woman's leg and carefully ruffled the boy's hair. Jak had never met a Lurker like them…him – he hadn't known there were Lurkers like Brutter. Again, he wondered if the Lurkers back home had been capable of speaking and what, if anything, might have happened if Jak and his friends had tried to talk to them even once. It wasn't as if Jak had ever given them the chance to say anything, had he? He had just killed each and every one he came across without question. Maybe at first he had felt guilty, disgusted with himself, but by the end…he had enjoyed the killing.

The teen swallowed thickly as Brutter stood and turned to him with a wide smile that nearly split his face in half. "You fight good, yea? Like ancient Lurker warriors in old stories."

"…Thanks," Jak replied after a moment. It still felt strange talking to anyone who wasn't Daxter, talking to anyone at all. "You weren't too bad yourself."

"You saved us," the young woman remarked with no small amount of awe even as her gaze remained hard and suspicious. Jak could practically see the 'Why?' trying to claw its way out of her chest, but she held it back. "Thank you."

Unsure of how to respond, Jak shifted nervously under the scrutiny of the group of civilians. They could see his eyes and his claws, had maybe even seen his Eco for a brief moment, and they weren't taking the opportunity to run away screaming. Most of them stared at him with open fear, but some of them offered weary, tentative smiles and thanks of their own. It felt…good in a way that killing never could. "Yea, well…This place is going to be crawling with Krimzon Guards soon. You should all get out while you still can."

Most of the other elves took that as their cue to run. If they kept their heads low, which Haven citizens were very good at, hopefully they could slip into the slums and disappear. On his way past, Brutter reached out and placed his hand on Jak's shoulder. "Brutter never forget this. You not mean, nasty monster like red troopers say. You need anything, Brutter can help!"

"It's bad enough you guys were nearly killed because of me. You don't need to put yourself in more danger."

"We tougher than you think!" the Lurker poked Jak gently in the chest, but with a hand the size of a small crocadog he nearly knocked Jak off of his feet. The Lurker smiled again before quickly jogging away, leaving the baffled teen behind.

Jak did not linger after that. He had a matter of minutes, at most, before a new Krimzon Guard patrol caught wind of what had happened in the water slums and came to investigate, and then he would never get another chance to come back without turning the place into a blood bath. The Guards who had been watching Daxter's house were either unconscious now or floating at the bottom of the slums, solving Jak's earlier problem, and the constant guard had prevented any scavengers from making out with the skull gems. The amber stones were thankfully easy to find being the only things that hadn't burned to ash or warped in the intense heat. He dusted off the remains of the knapsack they had rested in, stuffed them into a new bag that he slipped over his shoulders, and then was gone again in an instant and heading for the Oracle's hut.

The massive Precursor machine seemed to watch Jak approach even as its immovable gaze stared vacantly into space. As Jak emptied the skull gems onto the floor before the Oracle, its eyes seemed to gleam just a little bit brighter.

"You do well to rid the world of this metal scourge," said the Oracle, a hint of satisfaction lacing the otherwise monotonous voice.

"Will you help me?" Because there was no doubt that Jak needed help – he couldn't get a handle on his anger on his own. Not when part of him, the part that had grown to crave the rush of crushing his enemies – the rush of killing – didn't want to.

"I will help you control the madness instilled in you by your dark powers. Now that you carry the weight of darkness on your shoulders, you cannot hope to save this world alone. Our last hope rests with one still untouched by pain, and you must protect this young soul in our moment of truth."

Even before the Oracle's last words had finished echoing in the empty room, a sickly familiar light began to crackle in the mouthpiece of the Precursor machine. Jak had never actually stopped to wonder how the Oracle would help him. He had grown up surrounded by their marvels, had listened to Samos' lectures countless times, and while he had known that the Oracle couldn't just fix him, he had never expected this. A bolt of Dark Eco shot from the Oracle's mouth and hit him straight in the chest, and all Jak could do was scream. He had thought that being electrocuted earlier had been agony, but now it was as if he had been strapped back down to that horrible machine.

Every inch of him burned in a way Jak knew he could never put into words no matter how hard he tried. Unlike fire or the raw electric burn of the KG's modified Blue Eco, the torment of Dark Eco seeping inside of him and twisting everything it touched was entirely unique. But even as the pain endured and brought Jak, howling, to his knees, it began to feel…different. The Dark Eco of Haven City had always felt…off, tainted; but after so long he had thought he'd gotten used to it. That sick itch that had been lurking under his skin faded away as seconds that felt like hours dragged on in anguish. The pain felt almost pure when the Oracle finally stopped and Jak collapsed like a stringless puppet onto the wooden floor. He lay there panting, gasping in dust and dirt as he Oracle stared on impassively. Muscles twitched sporadically as they always did after a Dark Eco injection. His skin and bones and even his hair ached and yet he felt…cleaner, as if a thin film that had covered him had been harshly scrubbed away, leaving raw and red but healthy skin behind.

Slowly, Jak managed to roll onto his stomach and tried to get his hands beneath him so that he could push himself up. But even though he could feel his hands and hear his claws sliding along the wooden planks, he could not see them. With a growing sense of confusion and dread, he realized he couldn't see himself at all. He patted wildly at where he thought he should be and felt the shabby clothes and the skin of his hands and face, but that brought little comfort.

"What - ?"

A sudden noise by the entrance grabbed the young elf's attention, and Jak braced himself as the metal doors slid open and three Krimzon Guards stormed into the room with their guns raised. He bared his teeth as the Guards drew closer and he swore he could feel his Eco crackling around him even if he couldn't see it, but the armed elves didn't attack. Instead, after looking around briefly, they cursed and holstered their guns.

"How the hell did that thing manage to get past an entire patrol?" one of them asked, his voice distorted from the mask he wore. "It's not fucking bulletproof! I've seen it bleed!"

"I'm more worried about what Erol's going to do when he finds out he got away again," said a female Guard in yellow. "Have you seen him since the experiment escaped?"

"No, and I'd like to keep it that way. Y'know, I think they need more patrols in South Town. Let some other saps report this in."

Somehow, Jak had turned invisible. That was the only explanation that made any sense as he watched the Guards meander out of the hut. "What did you do to me?" he asked just as the doors slid shut once more.

"A gift that will not last much longer. Go now, and know that our last hope for the future goes with you."

The adolescent needed no further encouragement to leave. The residual ache of whatever the Oracle had done to him still lingered, and after today he thought he might agree more with Daxter's view on Precursor technology than with Samos'. As Jak slid back into the red chaos that had become the water slums, he couldn't help but wonder about what the Guards had said. Wherever he was, Erol couldn't be taking Jak's escape very well. He must know that the monster he had created would come for him eventually, and the thought of the sadistic elf hiding somewhere, alone and afraid and lashing out, brought a smile to Jak's face. Well, hopefully he wouldn't keep Erol waiting for too much longer. As Jak slipped undetected through the throng of Krimzon Guards, he felt more focused than he had since his escape. Let the Oracle go on about innocent souls and prophesies; Jak was convinced that the best way to save Haven City was by killing the two men slowly destroying it from within. If he had to work with ex-Krimzon Guards and even let some of the bastards live to accomplish that, he would. So long as he could keep his friends safe and Erol died by his bare hands, nothing else mattered.

Hello everyone! You probably don't want another apology, but I wouldn't feel right if I didn't say why I was gone for so long.

I wish I could tell you some grand reason for my not having updated for so long, but the truth is that it was a positive feedback loop of writers' block and guilt. I didn't know where to go after the last chapter, and then I felt guilty that I couldn't update, and then the guilt made it difficult for me to write, and then I felt guiltier because even more time had passed, and then I felt like too much time had passed and I had changed too much, and then so on, and so forth, until I actually got nauseated every time I thought about this story because I'm a really weird person. And I was thinking about giving up on trying anymore at all because I thought I just didn't have it in me.

I don't know what changed. I don't really care, because whatever it was I've started writing again and I'd forgotten how much I love it. What it feels like to get lost in the words. I apologize for disappearing without a word - even if I couldn't update I feel like I should have said something after so long, but then after so long I didn't want to pop up empty-handed. I want to thank you all for being so supportive and wonderful and understanding and, really, all of you are just so amazing.

So, yes, that's out of the way. Will updates be more regular, you might be asking? Those of you who have been around since the beginning (and I love each and every one of you and don't know why you put up with me really it's quite masochistic of you) will know that I have grown exponentially more terrible at updating at time goes by. What I can tell you is that I've thought long and hard about TDW and where I want it to go and how I want it to get there, and I'm extremely excited. I will finish this story, come Hell or high water, I'm just not sure...when. I hope you all can put up with me a little longer while I try to get back into the swing of things.

Anyway, I wish you all sweet, slashy dreams! I have got a lot of work to do!