Corad: Ok, here's the next chapter...I think...but anyhow. Thanks to all those nice reviews. It made me get off my sorry behind and update faster. I didn't want a repeat of last week flashback NNOOO! end flashback well, I hope you guys enjoy this.
I don't own Jak and Daxter...thank god...but I own Sharok and most this plot...or, I think I do anyway. Um, enjoy...
Chapter 17 – You're my partner!
"Oh my god…Daxter, is that, Sharok?" Jak asked in horror, watching as the man stumbled around, his eyes shut tightly. Daxter didn't reply, but just stared at him. Jak felt he needed to do something, and ran forward, grabbing hold of Sharok's arm and yanking it away from his head. He felt Sharok gasp before falling onto his knees, his eyes still closed.
"Sharok! Sharok, what's wrong!" Jak snapped, shaking the man furiously. He felt Sharok fall limp before he hit the ground. "Daxter, I think we need help," Jak muttered, looking down at the motionless man in front of him. Before he could send Daxter back to the underground, Sharok started groaning and sat up slowly, rubbing his head. "Where…where am I? Jak?" he asked, looking around his surroundings. Jak held out a hand to him, which he took gratefully, and was hoisted up on his feet.
"Sorry for that Jak. Just a…. migraine…that's all. Nothing serious," Sharok croaked, swaying on his feet a little. Jak raised an eyebrow and took his arm to help support him. "I hardly believe that," he spat, glaring up at Sharok's pallid, sweating face. Sharok gained balance a few moments later, and pushed Jak away. "You seemed outta it. What happened?" the young elf asked, looking closely over Sharok.
"It's nothing Jak. Nothing that doesn't concern you," Sharok replied, straightening up and pushing his hair behind his back. He took a couple of steps away from Jak before stumbling again. He fell onto his hands and knees, panting. Jak walked up to him and helped him back up. "You really need help. What are you doing out here?" Jak asked, pulling one of Sharok's arms over his shoulder. Sharok put his weight down on Jak, before answering.
"I'm on duty. It's my first day in the league. Torn gave me the easy section to patrol. Reckons the slums don't get much trouble. Ask me, I would've thought the filthiest part would have all the troublemakers in it," Sharok replied gruffly, as Jak helped him over to nearby, wooden bench. Together they sat down, and Sharok pulled back his arm and looked to the ground. Beads of sweat were visible on his forehead, and Jak noticed his breathing was a bit rugged.
"Thanks for helping me Jak. It happens a lot, so I'm used to it. This must have been the first that any… elf… has helped me. I usually get the cold shoulder from witnesses. Too caught up in there business to help a man in need," Sharok said quietly, massaging his left fore-arm. Jak glanced down at it, to see a large, deep scar running down it. "What happened there?" Jak asked curiously, gazing up at Sharok's face.
He watched as Sharok's eyes darted around slightly, looking as if he were nervous over something. "It happened a long time ago. I'd rather not talk about it. You know Jak; I should really be getting back to work. I don't want Torn to fire me on my first day for slacking off. I'll see you later, lad," Sharok said, getting shakily to his feet and wandering off into the busy section of the slums. Jak watched him disappear thoughtfully, before he realized Daxter was gone.
"Daxter? Daxter!" he yelled, leaping up off the bench and looking around frantically. He was relieved when he heard his friend's loud voice drifting through the air. "Jak, how many times have I told you, don't help weirdoes!" Jak turned around to see Daxter approaching him slowly. "Dax, where'd ya go? Don't ever get me worried about you again," Jak said, his voice still sounding slightly panicked.
Daxter scurried up Jak to his shoulder pad. "I was following you. Geez Jak, when ya helping others, forget about ya friends why don't ya!" Daxter spat, gripping the pad tightly. Jak shook his head apologetically. "Sorry Dax. He just needed some help. You saw the way he was staggering around. How can I say no to him. Besides, you should be used to it by now. It seems I'm the hero again," Jak said bitterly, as he began walking quickly to the Naughty Ottsel.
He soon arrived at the door, and waited as it opened slowly, grinding smoothly along the hinges. Warm air met his face as he stepped inside, and it smelled faintly of smoke as he breathed it in. "What are you doing here!" Daxter spat loudly to a figure behind the bar at the back of the room. Jak glanced towards it, to see Erol sitting on a stool, what looked like a lighter in his gloveless hand.
The ex commander looked up, and grinned dryly at Jak and Daxter. "Wouldn't you like to know," Erol sneered cruelly, placing a small piece of paper under the lit lighter. It began to burn furiously, until it was nothing but ash in his glove. "Jak, do something. I don't want this psychotic idiot in here," Daxter hissed desperately, leaning so close to Jak's ear that he could feel Ottsel fur on his neck.
"Daxter, I'm not sure why he's here. But I guarantee we'll find out," Jak breathed, striding over to the preoccupied Elf on the stool. "Erol, tell me something. What the hell are you doing here? How'd you get in? It was locked!" Jak snarled, glaring directly into Erol's eyes. He watched the ex commander's eyes flicker slightly, before completely turning away from his gaze.
"Answer me," he hissed threateningly, leaning forward and grabbing Erol's collar. He yanked him forward, and glared straight into him, his burning desire to kill him imminent. Erol felt the threat, and smiled sarcastically. "Jak, I'd hate to be the one to tell you this, but I'm your new partner." Jak released his grip instantly and stepped back, the whole blow of the statement hitting his mind at full force. How could Ashelin trust him again, even after all that had happened those 18 months ago?
"You're what! I'm his partner, moron! Not you!" the Ottsel cried in defense, bounding off Jak's shoulder to land lightly on the bar bench. Erol raised an eyebrow at Daxter, before a light, teasing smile played on his face. "You're a rat. How can you be worthy of being called a partner?" he sneered, resting the lighter down in front of him. Daxter growled quietly, and watched as the heat of the now extinguished lighter singed the bar top slightly.
"There's no way I'm ever trusting you Erol. Never. All those times you tried to kill me. How you tried to kill my friends, destroy the two cities I call home. How Ashelin put forth her trust for you, I have no idea. Don't expect the same from me," Jak spat furiously, swiping the lighter off the bar top and tossing it into the nearby trash can. Erol watched as his enjoyable object was destroyed.
"How she trusted me is none of your business Jak. All that matters now is my part in this. Act as if you don't care, as if you don't need me, but trust me now boy, you'll need me all right. Your life will depend on it," Erol spat gravely, all hint of sarcasm gone. His eyes burned with a certain truth, but Jak couldn't believe him now. Not after all that they'd been through together.
"Fine, you can call yourself my partner. Don't expect the same back. I have my partner right here. As far as I see it, I need no one else," Jak said through clenched teeth, motioning to his Ottsel friend who was examining the ash pile on the bar top. "What ya been burning here?" Daxter asked distractedly, picking up some ash, which crumbled from the touch of his paw.
"Certain things I'd rather forget. Jak, although you may attempt to protest back, Ashelin has forced me to stay here. I am on probation at the current time, so I need to be in the eye of any freedom league member. Any screw up of my behalf, and she says I'm good as dead. Any arguments on the matter are worth nothing. She's made her decision. So, I guess I'm moving in," Erol said, wiping his ash covered hand on his thigh.
"Whatever. Just stay outta my room, outta my stuff, and outta my food," Jak spat, turning to leave. He motioned for Daxter to follow him upstairs, just in case he peeved Erol off and found himself dangling off the centre light on the ceiling.
Corad: Eh, heheheheheh...so ah...was this ok? If you have any time to review, it'll make me happy you know. If not, it'll make me happy anyway. I know I'm doing a pretty poor job at it, but I'm trying to make Erol seem less...evil...also, if you're wondering how old Sharok is, he's 32. I still have those pics too, so if you guys wanna request to see them, feel free to. I guess I'll see you in the next chapter update. Hope you enjoyed this chappie, and cheerio guys!
