A/N: So I gave this some thought on how to move it on. In the future there will be fluff and much, much tragedy... blood, violence and so much sadness. BUT! I can't decide on the ending... shall it be sad? Or should it be happy and fulfilling? Well, knowing me not deciding on ONE pair of boots, I buy both pairs. So what the hell? End it with two endings and you choose which one you like better.

Now wait just a minute, don't go thinking this story is over yet. Oh no, it's FAR from over! I estimated about 20-25 chapters will be published onto here. Anywho, the next chapter is with much fluff and sensitivity, mainly about Torn, but in chapter 5 it will switch back to Jak and his feelings. Aww, both are pretty down aren't they? Not much fighting in Haven lately to distract poor Torn from his feelings and Ashelin isn't making Jak's hormone crazed life any easier. Oh my. Read on readers, read on!

SakuraofDarkness, glad you loved chapter 3! I promise much more ahead!

Meowen, thank you for such lovely comments! They are truly appreciated.

Now, back to the story...

Title: Eco Rumble

Rating: M+

Chapter four: Slow Breath

It was day two, actually, the next morning which was some 6 hours later. Torn had awaken late, not used to sleeping on the couch. The cold rain was still pouring down and created darkness over Haven city. Looking to his clock, he determined it was a little over 10:00 in the morning. A bit too late for his liking, but he brushed the thoughts off as he groggily moved onto his back and sighed, a hand on his chest. Wait a moment... He thought to himself on why he was on the couch in the first place. Recalling the events of before he sprang from the couch and quickly power walked to his room. Afraid of finding a cold, hard, corpse he gingerly approached the bed. The white sheets were lightly stained with drops of crimson blood which reminded him much of his armor while in the KG. Shaking the thoughts from his head, he removed part of the blanket that covered the badly mangled female from the night before.

Faux's chest slowly rose and fell, VERY slowly. Damn... He thought again. Still alive, what a fighter... I didn't want to say anything to Jak last night but I sincerely didn't think this girl would make it. Maybe she's stalling for the grim reaper... He shuddered. Shaking his head, he assessed her over again. She was bony from lack of nutrition along with the strong abuse to her body that she endured. It looked as if it was long-term abuse, several light scars covering mainly her torso, yet strangely her legs were barely touched, except for the fresh new wounds that would heal into no scar at all. Deciding on her situation, he decided to take the opportunity to change her blood soaked bandages. They covered her torso and wrapped up to her neck, cutting off along her shoulder, then starting down half of her left arm and fully on her right, down to her hand which had an odd gash on her palm. As he unwrapped, he came to her thighs, only the right thigh had a bone-deep gash, as if samples were being taken from her. Clenching his teeth and anticipating the sight he let out a sigh of relief. None of the gashes were infected, yet her cracked rib which he could feel under his fingers pressed dangerously close towards her lungs. Nothing he could do about a punctured lung, yet field wounds were his specialty.

"Ugnh..." Faux moaned a bit and tried to shift. Torn let her, then continued on wrapping her with fresh bandages after cleansing her wounds, yet noticed a strange branded symbol on the outside of both of her thighs. He hadn't seen anything like it before, but made a mental image of it for later reference.

Why the hell am I doing this? He sourly thought of himself. Maybe it was lack of attention towards him. Maybe he WAS going soft as Jak always teased. Maybe it was because... –

No! It wasn't that. How could he be stupid enough to think that that is what HE would have wanted if he were this abused and broken? Yet again, with his heart already shattered, he would want to die anyway.

After re-bandaging the girl, Torn stepped back and turned to a pitcher by his bed. Twitching slightly, he poured a small glass of the clear water and tilted Faux's head, letting her jaw drop softly and allowing the cool liquid to slide down her tongue and into her throat, careful not to choke her as she breathed slowly. It must have been days since she drank anything. She looked so dehydrated... her spirit looked broken.

Shaking his head, Torn turned towards his clothes dresser and pulled an outfit for the day. A pair of tighter training pants and a breathable training shirt started his outfit followed by a pair of soft arm cuffs and boots that came to about his knees. It was his usual attire for the most part, aside from his armor which he rarely wore around his apartment.

Walking from his room he walked to the kitchen, his boots clicking against his hardwood flooring then switching to a different sound as he hit the Vanier floor of his kitchen. It was an open kitchen, the sink and counters overlooking his living room which consisted of wooden floors and slightly expensive furniture.

He didn't need this. He didn't need to live this way anymore like some woman who always bought herself something expensive just to make her life more enjoyable. But was it? Did it make him feel better about himself? Half the time he rarely used the crap around his apartment. Torn sighed, grabbing a piece of fruit and seating himself at a table, reading the daily paper.

After a few moments of quietly sitting, a faint knock came from his door, the visitor outside standing in the harsh rain. Rolling his eyes, Torn stood and walked to the door, peeking on who it was.

Jak.

Figured the guy would be back and Torn removed the chain and bolts from his door, pressing a button to open it to the harsh cold.

"Hey Jak." This time he didn't have that annoying ottsel.

"Hey Torn." Jak walked in, looking soaked like a wet dog and Torn tossed him a towel. Figures the fool would glide over on a Zoomer or some dumb thing to that extent. "How's –" Torn didn't let him finish.

"Still unconscious... and alive I should add." Torn turned his back at Jak. "Which is a damned miracle if you ask me."

Jak stared, dumbfounded. "You really didn't think she'd make it through the night?" He asked.

Torn turned back, facing Jak. "I thought I was going to have an already decomposing bag of bones for a corpse in my bed." He replied gruesomely. Jak cringed.

"Alright... I get it, you're still pissed about me dragging her here. I'm sor-" Once again, Jak wasn't allowed to finish.

"It's not her, and it's not you. It's me." Torn sadly sighed and diverted his eyes to the floor.

Jak stared in confusion. "You? How is it you?" The younger green-blonde asked in bewilderment.

"I hate the city, I hate this stupid apartment and I hate myself." He snarled. Jak backed off and let him finish.

"Is this about Ashelin? Because I can, you know..." Jak tried to work things out, but Torn only grew more frustrated.

"YES! IT'S ABOUT ASHELIN!" He snapped which sent Jak off guard. Torn let himself down, not wanting to set Jak's bad side off. "Sorry..." He muttered. "We had something together... we really did..."

Lighting clashed once again, and Torn spilled himself like he had never described his feelings before. It was a rare thing.

It was four days later and Faux had been with Torn for nearly five whole days. Torn was beginning to wonder if he should call a doctor, for fear of moving her to a hospital could hurt her state even more and even so, if she had a shoot to kill order on her she must had been wanted. Yet, that did not mean a thing. Jak had the same order on him and it didn't necessarily mean he was a criminal. Torn paced back and forth throughout his spacious living quarters, often leaving for errands but too nervous to be gone long. Ashelin was starting to notice how often Jak was leaving and spent less time around the Naughty Ottsel and more time close to Torn's apartment. The others also noticed how Torn was distant and locked himself in his housing. It certainly was not like the ex-KG to exclude himself from training or missions. Only Jak, Daxter and Torn knew what secret they kept and Daxter was threatened by both with great fear of torture if he told anyone.

A small noise came the fifth morning that awoke Torn who was just beginning to break the couch in as a new bed. Shifting to his feet groggily, Torn made his way down the hall to his room. It was around 5 AM and still dark outside, the bustling of people just beginning yet stars still shining, the air very cool and crisp. Peeking inside his room, he could see Faux with open eyes. He hadn't seen her eyes before, yet they were a strange mix of green with orange flecks. The female tried to sit up, but whimpered in pain as she felt her ribs which were still busted about. She examined herself, tugging on the bandages and reaching for her throat, which Torn had done a good job resetting the bones and stitching the gashes. Blinking a bit, she became nervous and thrashed a small bit, unaware where she was and why. It was time for Torn to intervene.

"Whoa, easy... no need to kill yourself farther..." What else could he say? He couldn't let the girl just hurt herself needlessly even more.

Faux said nothing, but shot a death glare at Torn. Suddenly, his tattooed face twisted into a clear confusion. Why was she so angry? Unless she had a thing against males, which she probably did since she probably had the pulp beaten from her by one.

"I'm not going to hurt you..." He held his hands up. "You were brought here a mess. We tried to fix you up and most of your injuries mended and are healing, but you are still injured badly. You must sit still, you have two cracked ribs and damaged neck cartilage." He was civil, his hands still up in surrender.

"Where... where am I?" Faux struggled to speak, her voice somewhat better than when she had introduced her name to Jak. It wasn't as raspy, but was very soft since talking made her throat scream with fire.

"Haven City, actually, in my apartment. You were too injured to move alone, so you had to stay here." He sighed and tried to walk towards the nervous female. "Calm down, I'm just going to sit. You know, it IS my bed." He tried to let out a weak smile to her and Faux looked at the bed.

"Why are you doing this?" It was all she could think to ask, clearly too overwhelmed to say anything else.

"A pretty girl beaten and tortured left for dead? Doesn't look good for tourism." Torn joked and smirked a bit. Faux only let out a confused nod. "You've been out for five days, nearly six if you were wondering. It is November 8th." Well, that was good. It answered a few of her questions.

"Who brought me here?" She struggled to ask him. Torn looked at the wall.

"A friend, his name is Jak. Guess he found you, but I'm his closest connection to a doctor, so I patched you up. How do you feel? You really should get some antibiotic injections..." Torn tried to change the subject.

"... a little sore..." Her throat struggled to pass the air for words. Torn nodded and watched her struggle to sit up. She finally did sit up without much pain and looked around at her surroundings, then at Torn who stared back. She was slender and lean, yet he could tell at one time she was muscular and perhaps still half-fit. He could tell a soldier in training a mile away.

"Who trained you?" Torn locked eyes with Faux and she seemed surprised that he even knew she was half fit. "I can tell you're fit, you might be thin, but your stomach is drawn in as if you are half-fit for running wind." Faux let a breath out and tried to speak. Torn put his hand up. "Never mind. You're probably hungry, when was the last time you ate?" He asked her with sympathy. Faux stared at the sheets.

"I don't remember." She whispered. "I can't remember anything before I blacked out..." She answered. Torn nodded and spoke again.

"You like soup? Believe it or not I'm not a half bad cook." He stood and looked at her. "You can't move. You'll hurt yourself more and make it more of a mess for me to fix up. Understand?" Faux nodded. "I'll be right back." The girl nodded again, clutching the warm blankets to her chest as she watched the older man walk from the room and soon return with a bowl of soup. It wasn't scalding hot, but was very warm to the touch. Faux watched as he set it down and looked at her.

She was frail, she was scared and most of all her spirit was very brittle. Staring into her eyes he could tell at one time she had an amazing spirit, something of that of a fighter, a warrior maybe. Maybe not. But someone took a good chunk of their time to beat and torture the hellfire from this girl. At one time she may had been TOO much in spirit, but now he could tell she did not care where she ended up. Damn had they done a good job of driving her spirit, whoever it was. It was cruel, so damn cruel. A spirit was one's heart... and he could see she had no heart anymore.

"I've never seen you in Haven before, tell me why you're here." He whispered as she stared back at him, clearly petrified. Torn raised a spoon to her lips and motioned for her to part them as her head spin at the question. She took in the hot soup and gulped it down.

Her memory was lost... it was lost exactly one week ago before Jak found her...