A nice long Jak marathon in this chapter. Plus, in case you didn't notice, this story has just reached 100 reviews, with PurpleArmadillo being the 100th reviewer! Woohoo! Thank you all so much for your reviews thus far! I really appreciate them!

Chapter 39: Wandering

Days had passed, maybe a week, maybe more, he didn't know. All Jak knew was that time had gone by and things changed. The people of Haven City had made it to Spargus, the ones that were left, that is. Everyone was surprised when they heard how many didn't make it. Many did, thank the Precursors, but thousands did not. Thousands. Either from those monsters or the bomb or because the Dark Eco had been too much. The number of monsters out in the Wasteland was finally reaching a more manageable level, at least, and they seemed to be too busy dealing with the soldiers tasked with killing them than coming to Spargus to wreak further havoc. And Samos had returned. The Green Sage had finished healing Jak's wounds, and he could finally walk without trouble on his previously broken foot again. But, getting Haven City back still seemed impossible, and Dark Jak had become a nearly constant addition to his own thoughts. It was impossible to think. He had become a guest in his own body. And he was afraid that soon, he would have overstayed his welcome.

The young man sat in a roughly made chair in the main room of the house he now shared with Daxter, Keira, Tess, and Samos, the old Sage getting one of the two small bedrooms, while the women got the other. That left Daxter and him out here, where Jak slept on a rather uncomfortable couch, while the ottsel curled up in a chair. If Jak could trade his dark side for a small ottsel's body, he would make that trade without a second thought. No one would expect much from him anymore, either. It would be nice to have the pressure off, especially now that he wasn't living up to their expectations as of late.

Voices spoke in the background, the voices of Samos and Keira, while Daxter strolled by with a ceramic cup of water held in both arms. He took a gulp from the oversized cup, eyes squinched shut in displeasure. "Yick, I hate Spargus! This water's warm!" He brought the cup over to Tess, who was sitting on a table, her legs dangling over the edge. "It's gross, but want some, sugar cane?"

She dropped down and kissed him on the cheek. "Oh, thanks, Daxie." She took a sip, and her expression also said that she didn't like what she tasted. "It sure is yucky, isn't it?" She went to his side to avoid the cup of questionable liquid and wrapped her arms around him, cheek pressed against his. "But, as long as we're together, we'll be fine. Right, my handsome, furry graham cracker?"

"Sure is, apple crisp."

"Pumpkin pie."

"Raspberry sherbet."

Jak rose to his feet and headed for the door, as Daxter called after him, "Hey, you're not feelin' left out 'cause you didn't get nicknamed after sweets, are ya? You can be…I dunno…a Bundt cake! Jak, where are ya—"

As he closed the door, he blinked a bit until his eyes were adjusted to the bright sunlight of morning, the rising sun just coming up over the walls of Spargus. Despite the city now being forced to hold more people than it ever had before, the streets were nearly empty of life, with only a few people, clearly from Haven City, based on their attire, brave enough to wander out from their new lodgings. In their minds, this was almost as much enemy territory as the temple he had been imprisoned in had been for him.

He shook his head as he went off in no direction in particular. People were people, whether they hailed from the city or the desert. At least the people here didn't judge him because of his dark side. It wasn't his fault. He hated it as much as the people of Haven City did.

And sometimes, he couldn't help but hate the people of Haven City. Safe here, while nearly all the Wastelanders, men and women, defended their ungrateful hides! They didn't deserve this protection! If they were too weak to fight, then they should just—

This wasn't him. This was Dark Jak talking. He didn't mean these things. He really didn't.

Why did they get to hide out here while people died? Why didn't they have to fight? He had to. He had to fight everything. They expected it. Saving the world over and over again was too much for one person. He had a hard enough time…fighting himself. Why…why did they not have to fight, like he did, and the soldiers, and the Wastelanders? Why did some not have to struggle?

They did. They all did. They lost their homes. And the ones they cared about. Why? Why because of two people? They thought they could hurt everyone! Why? What gave them the right?

He punched the wall of a house nearby, leaving a large hole in the stucco. And yet his hand felt no pain. It should be broken. But, it wasn't. He pulled his hand free, as the stucco around the damage crumbled further, staring at his fist. With effort, he forced his fingers to open. No claws had formed, and his skin was not white, but he had had strength that wasn't his. He had to get out of here before that strength was used on something living.

He started to run, anywhere. Anywhere, away from everyone. More people would start to come outside. He knew they would. And what if he killed them? What if he killed them all? Dark Eco killed everything. You couldn't stop it.

Jak ran through the city, just ran, with nothing more in his mind but that action, and then he found himself stopping, gasping for breath, outside of Spargus' gate. Only the Wasteland was meant for him. This is why he had been banished here years ago. He was a monster. But, he hadn't been quite so bad back then. What would they do to him now?

His eyes focused on the horizon, and he started to walk. It didn't matter where he was going. As long as he got away.

"What were you thinkin', chili pepper? You're lucky I found you, or you could've died out here."

It took some straining for Jak to get his eyes open, but when he did, all he saw were various blurs. A bright blur floated to his right, while a darker blur hovered over him. He attempted to speak, but it was impossible, with a mouth and throat like sandpaper.

"Yeah, I hear ya. I know just what you need."

The positions of the blurs adjusted somewhat as something propped his head up, while another object came to his mouth, and then he was drinking in the most refreshing and wonderful water he had ever tasted, even if it was a little warm and a little gritty, since, well…

The last time he had passed out in the Wasteland.

Warm water. Daxter had been complaining about it before he had left. After that, he remembered little, but he knew he had been running, and then, he had been wandering out in the desert. But, he had no idea for how long.

Blinking, his vision finally started to clear up. "S…Sig…"

"Do you want to talk, or would you rather more water first?"

That was a no-brainer. Without waiting for a response, though it was likely response enough when Jak made no further efforts towards the first option, Sig was giving him more of that water, and he thought that surely he could drink a lake right now if one had been present. Jak was nowhere near finished when the Wastelander took the canteen back. In that case, perhaps he would try talking again.

"Sig…what are you doing…out here?"

"Lookin' for you. You city folk are even crazier than us Wastelanders if you'd just walk out in the desert without any water. Heck, I wouldn't take a walk out here if I had an ocean of water strapped to my back, and the Precursors know I could carry it. Let's get you back home."

Sig picked him up, Jak being too weak to object, and carried him to the Gila Stomper.

"Th-thanks, Sig."

"Don't mention it." The big man put Jak into the passenger seat, who then proceeded to slouch in his exhaustion. He could sleep for a week. If Keira wasn't bound to be angry when he got back. Oh, crap.

"You gonna make it?" Sig asked as he got into the seat beside him.

"Yeah…"

"Good." He turned the ignition. "I told your friends I'd bring you back alive. I try to make it a habit to keep my word."

Jak continued to lay there. So tired. And…thirsty again.

As they started to drive, Jak savored the wind on his face, even if it, like the water, was a bit warm. He must be so sun-burned by now.

"They were worried about you, you know. You were gone for several days."

"Days…?" Keira was going to be so mad.

"What's gotten into you, Jak? You know better than that."

"I know." He had to get away, though. He couldn't risk hurting Keira or Daxter, no matter how much they worried about him. Dark Jak was distant right now, just a whisper in the back of his mind, but it wouldn't last. It would be back. And then he'd be a danger to them again. He couldn't allow something to happen. He wouldn't.

They drove for sometime, bouncing over the sand dunes, just like when Sig had taken Daxter and him to that destroyed silo. Two now. He had failed to stop both things, the destruction of the silo and Haven City. How many more things would he not stop? How many more people had to be hurt?

"Sig…I need…to ask you something."

"Yeah, what is it?"

"If you…were a danger to the people you cared about, what would you do?"

Sig was silent for a moment, before answering, "You're talking about what happened a few days ago, aren't you? Dark Jak, they call it?"

Jak gave a weak bob of his head. "If you had a…a monster inside you, and you could no longer…keep it from escaping…" He rolled his head to the side to watch the Wastelander beside him. "You'd have to leave them behind…even if that also hurt them, wouldn't you? You'd have to."

Sig glanced at him before returning his eyes to the dunes ahead. "Running away or isolating yourself out in the middle of nowhere is never a solution to your problems. Sure, your friends will be safer, but how long do you plan on stayin' away? If you don't deal with the real issue, you'll never come back."

He'd come back. Once Dark Jak went away. Which may not be until he found more Light Eco. But, unfortunately, it was the rarest form of Eco. And wandering aimlessly through the desert wasn't really a good way to find any. What was wrong with him lately? Walking out in the Wasteland? He didn't even take a vehicle. Dark Jak must really be clouding his judgment. But, where could he find Light Eco? It certainly wouldn't be found lying around Spargus. He'd have to go look for it, and until then, he had to stay away. But, Sig was right. How long would that be?

They arrived back at Spargus, the sky painted golden from the setting sun, the big star's dramatic exit before it gave the desert a short reprieve from its fiery brilliance. Once they stopped, Jak attempted to get out and walk on his own, but Sig wouldn't hear of it, forcing Jak to be carried again. Back to resting again. He had been doing a lot of that lately, and too little of anything productive, but at least it would keep his dark side at bay for a little while. It was one small relief, he supposed.

When they got back to his (hopefully) temporary home, his heartbeat picked up. He was going to see disappointment in Keira's eyes again. And he did it for her. Maybe it was stupid, but it was for her and Daxter and everyone else. They wouldn't understand, though. No one without his affliction could understand quite how much of a burden it was. No, he was not about to feel sorry for himself. He deserved any anger they had right now. He just hoped they'd understand he didn't have many other options.

He was indeed met with some anger when they arrived inside, but it was largely delayed and cooled off by their relief to see him alive and pretty much well. But, he still got the same questions from everyone, with different wording, about how they were worried sick about him, and what was going on in that hare-brained head of his, that particular insult courtesy of Samos. (Well, almost everyone voiced these same questions, save Tess, who giggled over how Daxter surely would have rescued him if Sig couldn't.) He answered these questions with non-committal replies. There was no point in explaining himself. His actions didn't make much sense to him, either.

Finally, the commotion over his return died down, and he was left to lying on the uncomfortable couch and drinking all the water Keira brought for him. While he wished she would just say something. Anything. Tell me what you're thinking right now. I can't explain myself if I don't even know what you think of my stupidity.

The sun went down, and Keira lit the lamp on the table, and she kneeled down on the floor next to him while the ottsels curled up together on a chair. (As much as Daxter complained about the light, Keira was in no way letting the two ottsels go off alone somewhere.) He watched her from nearly closed eyes as she stared off at nothing in particular, though he was not forgotten, as she continued to stroke his hair with one hand. Maybe she wasn't too angry at him anymore. But, she was worried. He could see it in the way her eyebrows slanted up slightly in the middle, and her mouth was a small frown. Not obvious distress, but definitely preoccupied worry. He wanted her to be safe, but he didn't want her to worry, either. But, he couldn't, for the life of him, find a way to do both.

At some point, he must have fallen asleep, because next thing he knew, she was gone, and the lamp was out. He stared at the blackness, shapes gradually coming into view as his eyes adjusted. He no longer felt quite as weak, but he still felt tired. He lay awake for some time after that, maybe hours, but he couldn't sleep, no matter how tired he was. And worst of all, he was more tired in his mind than anywhere else. Despite this, however, he kept thinking about the same old things that drove him crazy. These thoughts wouldn't go away, no matter how hard he tried to shut them out and fall asleep and get through just one more night.

But, as the hours wore on, sleep floated farther and father out of reach as a second voice began to entwine itself around his own thoughts, tightening and choking them out, trying like strangler vines to squeeze the life from his inner thoughts, to leave something dead and empty in the middle, so that all was left was that second voice. That's what his dark side wanted. To squash what was left of the man's resistance, his struggle to keep his own self. If it could help it, it wanted to make sure Jak ceased to exist, and he wasn't even certain if parts of him hadn't already eroded away, just like the dunes in the Wasteland.

More time passed, and Jak found himself repeating the same motions day after day. He'd wake up, and he would follow the same morning ritual of getting dressed and brushing his hair and teeth. Bathing became a more limited activity, as water could not be so disregarded here as it was in Haven City. And he'd hear the conversations of those around him, but much of the time he wouldn't listen. He couldn't if he wanted to, not with the racket going on inside his head. And then he'd wander. Not in the Wasteland this time. Just around Spargus. He'd walk for a time, and then he'd find a quiet corner to sit, a place not much noticed by the people who still roamed the city's dusty streets in a stupor, still no doubt having difficulty accepting what had happened to their homes far away across the desert.

The Wastelanders were starting to return, as well, with the ranks of the Dark Eco monsters finally dwindling, though with their homes already taken by Haven's refugees, adjustments now needed to be made to accommodate the city's original occupants. Things were almost becoming peaceful again, but it was an uneasy peace, for the people had learned that peace only meant that a greater calamity might then occur, just as it had to Haven City. No one yet knew when their old home might be reclaimed, if ever. But, it certainly wasn't anytime soon. The war was not over, and he could only hope that those two wouldn't come up with something even worse this time.

Jak returned home that evening, weary from having not eaten anything but breakfast, a meager helping of leaper lizard jerky, but that was welcome, as it kept Dark Jak a little farther from his mind than it would have been otherwise. As much as he wanted to stay out later, partly to avoid the concerned looks his friends passed between each other when they thought he wouldn't notice, they had started a tradition of eating dinner together, the five of them. This was a thing they had done on occasion in Sandover (minus Tess, of course), with Jak and Keira being friends, and Daxter and him being orphans, and so really had no one else to call family to eat dinner with (aside from Jak's uncle, whom he was certain now was not really related to him at all). And going back to that old tradition made Keira happy, and he couldn't take that from her. Not when the ever-present worry in her eyes was his fault. So he tried to force his dark side out as much as possible in anticipation of this. It wouldn't help her anxiety any if he stared off into space the whole time.

He arrived back at their borrowed home and opened the door to find Samos seated at the table already, in the middle of scolding Daxter, while Keira and Tess went about the final preparations.

"Quit standing there like a lump and help the girls with dinner! If you don't make yourself at least marginally useful, you don't eat!" Samos said, waving his cane in an increasingly threatening manner, while Daxter leered at him from where he stood on the other end of the table.

"Why don't you have to do anything, green and stumpy? All you do is sit there and boss people around!" Daxter's arms were flailing about, as if in competition with the Green Sage's cane.

"That's because I'm older than you! I should get a little special treatment for devoting so many years on this planet to improving the lives of nincompoops like you. It's certainly not like I get any respect around here. But, I suppose that's an unreasonable request for the wisest man alive, isn't it?"

"Wise, my tail! Just 'cause you can talk to boulders, it doesn't make you wise."

"Daxter, don't make me come over there and whack you!"

The ottsel let out a squeal of rage at his defeat, for he knew Samos didn't make idle threats, and jumped off the table, heading for Tess, who had an armful of wooden utensils. Without the stubborn ottsel to deal with, Samos's attention finally turned to Jak, who had stood by the door during the entire exchange. He swallowed. If Samos wanted him to help, too, he'd go willingly. He promised.

"Jak, my boy, we almost thought you'd be late."

"Dinner's ready, so you won't need to yell at Jak, too, Daddy," Keira said, half-turned away from a pot of something on the stove before her, a grin visible on her face. Whatever she was cooking, it smelled good, and his stomach grumbled.

"Don't you worry, Keira," Samos said, chuckling. Only Keira could bring out the Green Sage's less cantankerous side. "Jak, you look under the weather. You've been like that for the past few days. Is…the Dark Eco still acting up?"

The Sage watched him with eyes that picked up on things no one else noticed as Jak grabbed a chair to the right of the older man and sat. "I'm all right."

That didn't answer the question, and Samos raised his eyebrows, well aware of this. To Jak's relief, he didn't press the issue further, and Keira moved in to set a steaming bowl of some kind of stew out for each of them, while Daxter was in the middle of showing off his chivalry by carrying the spoons and grinning broadly at Tess, who watched her orange knight's feat of strength with adoration, giggling whenever he winked at her. But, with no display of manners, the spoons only got dropped in the near vicinity of the bowls, with one being kicked at Samos, an act that received a glare in response. All set, Keira sat at her own seat across from Jak, while the ottsels settled for sitting on the table to Jak's right.

"Very nice, Keira. What have you made for us this evening?" Samos asked.

She grinned. "Well, it's nothing special. Just leaper lizard stew."

"We got roasted leaper lizard yesterday," Daxter said, before returning to blowing steam from his bowl.

"Shut up, Daxter," Samos said.

"Oh, he was just saying," Tess said, before adding, "I did the seasoning, by the way."

"That's my girl. The seasoning queen." Daxter went to smooch her on the cheek, while she giggled yet again.

"Not at the table, you two!"

"Never mind them, Daddy."

"Some people are trying to eat."

Jak got to his meal before it had quite cooled, burning his tongue in the process, but he was too hungry to care. The meat was tender, or at least, as much as it could be for leaper lizard. His only complaint was that it was a bit too salty, courtesy of Tess. Their dinner was a largely quiet affair, with giggling from the ottsels and Keira's small-talk the main interruptions. There wasn't much that needed to be said. Not much had been happening as of late. Samos and Keira continued to heal soldiers injured by war or civilians injured by the explosion, while the ottsels kept themselves busy with their usual, sickening nonsense. And Jak didn't need to tell them what he had been up to. But, it was the same events everyday. They had just been living their lives and keeping busy to pass the time until the next tragedy struck. The most important events took place at the palace, where Ashelin and Torn and Sig deliberated over their next moves against Gol and Maia. He really should visit them, but he wasn't sure if there was much point.

"I've been talking to the strangest girl lately," Samos said, causing everyone to look up at this variation from the expected conversation. "She's been asking me about Gol and Maia. About what they were like before the Dark Eco corrupted them." He took a break from his comments to take a spoonful of stew, while everyone continued to watch him. Who was asking about what? The Sage looked up to find everyone's attention still directed at him. "What, is there something on my face? Can't a Sage eat dinner around here without getting stared at?"

"That's a pretty strange thing to ask about," Keira said, spoon held halfway between her face and the bowl.

"It isn't as strange as you might think. They were ordinary people once, just like you and me. I don't know why she has such an interest in them, or who told her that I used to know them, but I'm not surprised at her curiosity."

"Who was it?" Jak asked, his first words since the meal began.

"I didn't catch her name. A Wastelander. That's all I know."

What kind of person would go around asking questions about them? Who could be interested in those monsters? Those murderers. It didn't matter that they were normal once, they were evil now.

"Jak, are you okay?"

He looked at Keira and tried to force the anger from his face, but his heart continued pounding in his chest. What sicko was this? Who was it!

"Jak, she was just asking. It was completely innocent," Samos said. "I can understand why you're upset, but…"

"You have no idea why I'm upset. You don't know." What was he even referring to? All he knew was this person…whoever she was…she repulsed him. If he ever found her, he would… No…. Don't, Jak. Don't start again….

He opened eyes he didn't know were closed, to find himself standing up, hands clutching the edge of the table. No, he was the sicko. It was him.

There was fear in Keira's eyes. That was worse than the worry.

"Jak…calm down…" he heard Samos's voice say.

Keira's eyes flicked to the side before returning to his. She was watching him, like one would keep their eye on a Metal Head. He was a monster, too. Not just them. He wasn't as bad, though. He wasn't.

He eased himself down, back into his seat, staring at the half-eaten bowl before him. He had lost his appetite.

"Jak, I know it's harder now, but you must learn to control it. Just like you always have." It was Samos again. He couldn't look at him. Or any of them. He didn't want to see their scared faces. He just gazed down at the stew, as a bubble floated to one side and popped. "Once we can find some Light Eco, you will be back to your old self again."

He didn't want to go back to his old self. He wanted his dark side to be gone for good. He wanted to be carefree again, like in Sandover. He'd be fine with being mute again, if that's what it took. But, life wasn't filled with magical formulas like that. I'll trade Dark Jak for being mute again. It just didn't work that way.

"Where will I find Light Eco again?"

"It'll show up. It appeared to you when you first fought Gol and Maia on the silo, remember? No one expected it, but there it was, when the world needed it most. When you needed it most. It'll happen again. I'm old. I know these things. Now eat your stew before it gets cold."

No more was said that evening. Jak simply went back to eating his meal, to give himself something else to focus on, while the others did he didn't know what. He wasn't checking to see if they had calmed down yet. They were likely still bothered by his outburst. He knew he was.

With the bowl empty, he saw it pulled away from him as Keira and Tess and a surprisingly grumble-free Daxter got to work clearing the table. And the Sage gave him a pat on the shoulder before retiring to his room. Jak made himself stand once he was sure everyone was busy with their tasks. Sitting there all night was sure to look a bit odd after a while. He went to the hard, lumpy couch and sat. He sighed and closed his eyes. Another day done.

Would you believe it; for whatever reason, I always feel awkward writing eating scenes. At least it was a nice change of pace. Please review.