Title: Left Unsaid
Summary: It still stings, but it's livable.
Point of View: Jak
Rated: PG
A/n: WOW, haven't touched this in a while. Actually haven't WRITTEN in a while. Warning you now, this is very drably and unbetaed. Please enjoy regardless.
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It still stings, when he mentions it.
Everything stings. Everything's pain in this life. Everything. Nothing's sacred, not even from himself.
He keeps bringing it up, though. Jak doesn't show it—he'd never show it, it's against the new rules—but he probably knows it hurts. Poking an old wound always does. Especially that one…
"Where would you be without me, Dax?"
Shouldn't've asked it. Idiot, idiot.
He'd be fine without you. Perfectly, wholly fine. He'd be normal without you. Independent without you. Could've made a life for himself like—like everyone else without you.
Stupid question. Painful answer. It's all your fault.
…but then again, you've gotta realize, it's an old wound. Old and scarred over and just sore, really. Just tender. It doesn't scream like everything else. It's not painful. Not horrible. It hurts, but compared to the rest? Hell, it's a paper-cut.
Talking about ancient history's not all that bad, not when the present's such a nightmare. There's so much he could bring up—tell Jak he doesn't agree with. His actions, his reactions, the Dark that crawls out and kills and could turn on him at any given moment and still he talks to him like…everything's…normal.
…maybe that's why he brings it up. Is he still living in the past? Clinging to it?
Makes two of them.
The realization dulls the sting. It's livable.
…but there's a question. Always nagging, always there. He's gotta be aware of what he's doing. How he's helping him. What's not being said for the sake of what is. He's just gotta know.
…So…what's being left unsaid, Dax? Not that it can't be guessed…