Chapter 14

The little sand-shark on the ground was parked in a peculiar place among the dunes. I flew over, trying to get his attention and see if they needed help or an escort. I wish I could've seen who the driver was but he seemed determined to make sure I stayed oblivious, or just simply didn't notice me at all.

After a few circles around his position, I decided he wasn't a big worry, other wise he would have taken me into account by then. I began my accent back up into the clouds, giving him one last glance.

He waving me down with a rag, probably his scarf or something. I seriously couldn't be bothered to help after wasting my time, but a fellow wastelander in danger was still a priority. It must have been something important because the simple act of waving at me told me he needed to have communication.

I brought my glider down steady and sat her down on the sand, finally getting a good look at the stranded groundsman. Jak, of course, had to choose the worst places to talk to me. I almost took off again without giving him a chance to really talk to me, but the simply fact that he could be in serious trouble made me stay. Didn't he know it was dangerous for me to be on the ground? Especially since we discover that the sand scorpions have a taste for unprotected pilots.

"What do you want?" I growled. I shouldn't have landed. If I had known it was him, I wouldn't have landed.

"Tox, we need to talk."

I crossed my arms. I really didn't want to talk to him, right now. More so after that tantrum he threw the other day. I can't believe he laughed at me and called me crazy.

"Alright, talk."

He glared, and I noticed Daxter was not on his shoulder, or even in the car. That was an interesting occurrence. Daxter was never without Jak and vise-versa, was he really serious about this talk he wanted that Daxter couldn't even come?

"Tox, will you please calm down and stop treating me like I jammed a hot pipe up your ass?"

Oh-ho. So Jak did have a sense of humor after all. Who would've guessed? Sharp, witty remarks were my ground, he just went and along and laughed when appropriate. I could almost say with pride I had taught him something, if I still wasn't so mad at him.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, trying to at least look like I was trying to calm myself for him. If he wanted to apologize, I wanted him to believe I would accept it; otherwise he would back out at the last minute and just follow up with Jak-glares.

It was surprisingly wonderful to clear my mind for a moment, while Jak waited patiently. When I felt calm enough to have him continue, I opened my eyes and found my surrounding were actually sharper than they were a moment ago. Everything seemed clearer, I felt clearer, I felt like myself, as apposed to what I felt like before.

I resisted the urge to smile at him as I asked him to continue. He saw the look in my eyes anyway, which wasn't surprising, and relaxed a little himself. What? Was he expecting me to attack him? I shook away as he began to talk.

"You freaked out the other day," he said softly, like trying to break hard news on a child. "On nothing. I'm sorry if I said something to offend you," he said the word 'sorry' as if he didn't believe it. I felt like it should have made me angry, but I knew I should be the apologizing at this time. He was right, I freaked.

"Sorry, Jak," I replied, making him look at me with surprise. I was deflated now, far too tired all of a sudden. I smiled tiredly at him, too drained to really give him an explanation.

At my friendly attitude, he seemed to relax all the way. He smiled a his own little Jak-smile and moved forward. We agreed a long time ago, that physical contact was to avoid. Neither of us like it, to be honest, but this time, as he offered me a hug, it seemed almost natural. I knew he would be different, better without so much darkness hurting him, but not this different. Again I was pained with a sudden sadness, and I gladly accepted his embrace.

He was soft, and warm, and smelled of leather, dirt, and eco. It should have been a bad smell, but it was just Jak. Just Jak, and he was my best friend. Like a brother; no, better than a brother. I don't know what but he was just Jak.

He stiffened all of sudden, all his muscles going taunt to hold me a little tighter. Then I was being pushed away, where I spun and saw the large animal coming at up under the sand. Moving in a trail of up-ended sand, kind of like those giant worm horror movies, except it was obvious this thing was more than a string of flesh.

Jak drew his blaster and began firing away at the moving mound. It came straight at him, but at the last minute, it veered toward me. I didn't have time to react, or run, or even scream as a giant scorpion burst from the sand, grabbed me it's claw, swung me like a rag doll until I was too dizzy to tell up from down. The last thing I remember was being slammed into the sand with enough force that gravity must have had help.

/-/-/

Everything ached. More than it should have. I could feel my thoughts were disjointed, I couldn't think right, straight, clearly. The clarity that I had while talking to Jak was gone, all of it was just a fog now. I tried to open my eyes but found I couldn't. I couldn't move at all actually. I shouldn't even try. And so I lay there, and keep think how much I want to get under the blankets, because I'm shivering in the cold.

My brain told me it was only seventy degrees in reality, but my body felt as if I was in a snow day with a broken heater. It wasn't ice cold but it was enough to make me shiver, and each shiver, each spasm of muscle at all sent tendrils of pain through my entire body.

Broken. That was how I felt. I felt broken. It was weird, because in my mind's eyes my entire body was out of proportion, and I couldn't feel parts of different limbs. I knew it was probably a fever dream that told me I was white and broken and disproportionate, but I wasn't asleep. I felt awake enough.

But yet I didn't, because I felt so foggy and… and… I drew blank after blank. I guess that was all my brain could really handle. At least right now. I was just so tired. Where was I, anyway? Certainly not Spargus. Spargus wasn't seventy degrees anytime, day or night. It was either in the hundreds, or below the fifties. Usually never in between.

I felt thirsty, and hungry, but the thought of both made me dizzy with pain. Not because I knew I needed them, but because I knew how much work it would require to down these things. In my honest opinion, it was just simply too much.

All I wanted to do was sleep, or cry. I also wanted to scream, but again, screaming would take too much work. I would prefer to just sit here and think and allow tears to run down the sides of my face. I felt weak.

I shouldn't cry. I was just feeling sorry again. There goes me and selfishness, walking down the street, holding hands. I also shouldn't cry because tough Wastelander, no matter their genders, never cry in the face of pain and self-pity.

I had to keep reminding myself… This thought bugged me, because I knew I should be panicked about this, but I was just too tired to be panicked. I had to keep reminding myself that I wasn't in Spargus anymore.

XXX

Broken Wolf/ D.R.M.