A/N: Well, it is FINALLY updated.  I've had no time lately, and as a result, this chapter sat in my notebook for something like two weeks, fully complete but not typed.  But now it's here. ^_^  I must say that the reviews on the last chapter had me cracking up for ages!  They were all so varied and… it was just great!  I ought to pop random things like Keira's death out more often! ;-)

Disclaimer: I don't own this… and GameInformer is taking their sweet time mailing me my new subscription… I just want to see the article about Jak III! *wails*

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Daxter paused before Keira's apartment, looking up at the tightly-shuttered windows.  He had waited and waited.

And waited.

And still Jak had not come home.  After three days of lying awake at night, tossing and turning as he tried desperately to squash the images of the two that flitted through his head, after three days of falling into a light doze only to be awakened in the middle of the night by the tiny noises of the city, heart pounding and fully convinced that it was Jak, returning at last, only to be disappointed each time, Daxter didn't care at all if they were angered by his intrusion.

His gloved knuckles rapped gently on the door, and when no answer came, he pushed it open, glad that it was unlocked.  The interior of the building was pitch black, and a silence that cut straight to Daxter's bones permeated it.  The ottsel paused to let his eyes adjust, about to turn and leave as no one was home.  But… no, there were Jak's beloved hoverboard and gun thrown carelessly onto the sofa.  Jak would never go anywhere without them.

Daxter placed one orange foot in front of the other, hesitant to go back into Keira's bedroom.  But… maybe they were asleep…

The door to her room was nearly closed, only an inch of darkness beyond the metal barrier.  Dax slowly pushed the door open, the sickly-sweet stench of decay assaulting his nostrils as he did so.  His heart seemed to be pounding wildly, so loudly that it drowned out all other noise.  Slowly, so very, very slowly, he reached out with a fuzzy hand and pushed the door open.  The sounds of ragged breathing reached his ears.  His own?  No…

The small ottsel, shaking uncontrollably, screwed shut his eyes and touched the light pad.  Beyond his closed eyelids, brightness flared into being.  Gritting his teeth, balling his fists, Daxter opened his eyes.

Red hit him in waves.

It was everywhere, the floor, the walls, the ceiling, the furniture, the beds, covering the unnatural lights, tainting the air a thick crimson that clung like a leech to every object that it touched.  There was only one place that the red was not.

In Jak's eyes.

But no longer were they the bright, crystalline blue of his youth, nor the deep cerulean hue that they had taken on during his imprisonment.  His wide eyes, glazed and staring at nothing, held little of their former color, now so dark that they were nearly black.

Daxter shivered as he realized just how like Dark Jak those orbs looked.

Jak did not move; Daxter did not speak.

Finally, the ottsel wrenched his gaze away from Jak's eyes and let it drift over the rest of his body.  Beneath the blood that plastered his face, his skin was the color of untainted snow; his mouth hung open, breathing shallow and pained.  A gasp tore itself from the ottsel's throat as he saw what Jak held, protectively wrapped in crimson-stained arms, a frozen statue in the midst of a dried lake of lifeblood.

Not of his will, Daxter's eyes drifted to stare at the bloodied lumps that lay behind his friend's immobile figure.

Daxter's stomach heaved as he stared at her.  He had never before seen a person in so many separate parts.  They had all been neatly fixed, arranged with all the correct body parts in the right places, entrails and organs placed as well as possible into the holes left in her corpse.  Nothing remained of the girl that he had grown up with but the shattered remnants of her body.

He turned into a corner and threw up the meager contents of his stomach, gagging on the scent of decay and the taste of blood in the air.  When he was finally done, he leaned on the wall, eyes shut once more, gasping in a effort to regain control of himself.  When he looked up at last, he froze.

Jak was looking at him.

Jak was watching, but he wasn't truly seeing, looking at something that Daxter did not know, could not see.  The ottsel gulped and took a step back, then another, seeing that Dark Jak was simmering just beneath Jak's skin, ready to burst out and rip him apart just as he had done to Keira, into a thousand tiny bits scattered all over the city, blood seeping down into the sewers to eventually be drunk by all the poor that could not afford clean water, body disintegrating away, leaving nothing, and no one, not a single person, would remember him, all they would do was mourn the young, happy Jak that was long gone.

In a single swift motion, Jak stood up, then bent over and tenderly placed her severed head where it belonged.  He turned.

"Daxter…?"  His voice cracked in the middle of the word and his throat ceased to function, working hard, but Daxter knew full well what Jak said.  His retreat stopped, and the ottsel stared up into his friend's alien eyes.

Eyes that held pain and horror.

Five, ten minutes passed as they both stood immobile, gazes never wavering.

And then Jak ran.

He brushed past the ottsel, and Daxter cried out in pain as Jak's foot briefly crushed his tail.  But the weight was soon gone, and before Daxter finally realized what was going on, Jak was gone.

And all hell broke loose.

The ground trembled, at first softly, then with increasing strength until the tremors were strong enough to throw Daxter from his feet.  The building groaned under the force of the shifting earth, announcing its intention to crumble to the ground.  With a groan, the ottsel stumbled out of the thrashing building and to the street.  Somewhere a few blocks over, people screamed as one of the cheap homes fell over, smashing into one a few scant feet away.  So closely were they packed that building after building after building fell to the ground within moments, and Daxter watched in horror as a group of fleeing people were crushed under the weight of the weak wall that fell upon them.  People ran back and forth, screaming in confusion; booted feet came dangerously close to trampling him.

Finally the tremors ceased, but still the chaos did not abate.  Shouted conversations flew back and forth, intermingled with screams of terror.  "Demon!  Demon!"  His heart jumped every time he heard them, the cry reverberated in his head.

Jak

"Run!  Murderer!"

Jak

"Aaaaaa-" 

"Jak!"  He took off at a dead run towards the screams, frustrated with the fact that so many people barred his way.

But all too soon he found the source of the scream.  A body lay on the ground, torn apart but not nearly so dismembered as Keira's.  A few drops of blood splattered on the ground led him in the direction of the direction of the next body, which he found moments later, and that unfortunate person's innards led to the next, and the next.  He followed the trail without stopping, though his tiny body began to fail and his mind wanted desperately to give in to the darkness that his horror and stress were imposing upon him, wanted to escape from the nightmare that had come to life before him.

The trail went right out the now quite-broken city gate.

"Jak!  Come back!" he yelled as loudly as he could while panting for breath.  He skidded to a stop at the gate, searching, desperately wanting to find Jak but hesitant to leave the city.  He wavered, ready to spring out after his only true friend…

…and then his decision was made for him.  "Shut the gates!" guards yelled over and over.  "The Governor has been assassinated!  Shut the gates!"  The backup generators flared into life and strings of eco, at first weak and thin and then increasingly thick, stretched out across the gateway that had been destroyed in Jak's frenzied passing.  Daxter was thrown back with a pain-filled yelp as he was fried by the eco, sealed irrevocably into the city.

More Krimzon Guards came, guns drawn, pointing them out through the streaming eco at the invisible threat outside, pushing the little ottsel out of the way.  Any sharp retort from Daxter was cut short as he caught sight of Jak.

Jak seemed to be flickering, just like the eco that Daxter stared through.  Dark Eco danced over his grey skin as his featured constantly melded partway into those of his demon and back again, over and over and over until both seemed to exist at once.  For the shortest instant, his ashen hand reached out towards Daxter, pleading, begging for help.  Then he was gone.

A red foot knocked Daxter away, and he flew back into a wall.  But the jolt cleared his head momentarily.  "His stuff…" he muttered thickly, struggling up.  "I hafta get his stuff before… before…"  Clutching his head, Daxter took a deep breath and set off running, ignoring everything but his need to get to Jak's stuff, to protect it, to keep it safe. 

He did not go back into Keira's room, left her for someone else to find, someone else to deal with.  Completely ignoring, not even seeing that part of the house, he grabbed Jak's effects.  They were heavy, so very heavy… he strained, dragging the stuff along as he walked backwards.  Down the steps, across the street, right turn, left turn, along the highway as guard cars raced every which way, terrified at any second his head would be shaved off by a passing zoomer, through the market area.  It took so long, so very long.  His vision tunneled until all he saw were his hands, clutching the gun and shield in a death grip as they swept across the ground, scratched by all the rocks that they passed over.

By the time the ottsel reached his home, he had to fight every second to retain consciousness.  The bright sign and lighted ottsel statue gleamed like a beacon as bright as day, calling him, leading him home. 

Alone…

Alone… alone… alone…

With a final great heave, Daxter pulled both himself and Jak's weapons onto the pad before the door.  He fell to the ground, eyes shut, mind blocking out everything and escaping to a place where none of it had ever happened.