"Come on, Jak, you gotta eat something." Daxter probed gently.

Jak sighed, his hair still moist from the shower, the third one he had taken that evening. Daxter looked at Jak, his head hung, as he poked listlessly at the plate of food before him on the coffee table.

"I feel sick." Jak murmured, his eyes stormy and gray.

"I know buddy, but, uh… try to take just a few more bites." Daxter pleaded.

God this felt so weird. Daxter wasn't the soft compassionate type. Honestly, that was more of Kiera's M.O. He was trying his best to emulate her, but felt more like an actor in an ill-fitting role. He wanted to help Jak, he really did, but he was at a loss at what he could do all by himself. He wasn't equipped to handle something like this. The most he could do right now, was make sure Jak took care of himself, didn't slip deeper into depression, and off himself before the poison could. Yeah, like that was a simple task. Fuck, he really wasn't cut out for this.

Daxter watched as Jak shoveled a couple of halfhearted forkfuls of food into his mouth. Jak sat back on the couch, and closed his eyes. He barely moved for several minutes. At first glance you would think he had fallen asleep, but his high, tight shoulders, clenched fists and subtle frown he wore, told a different story. The bruising on his face had gotten better at least, Daxter remembered that they had packed some green eco with them, it had done very little to help the emotional pain that Jak was currently feeling though. There had to be something he could do to help.

"Hey, uh… did you want me to rub your head?" Daxter asked. It was something Jak used to do for him when they were kids. Daxter would get incredibly anxious during thunderstorms, and Jak would do that to help him calm down. After being turned into an ottsel, he'd stopped though. Daxter didn't like people mistaking him for a pet, and having someone rub him like one made him deeply uncomfortable, but maybe it would help Jak.

"Um… sure." Jak murmured.

Jak turned and lay down on the couch in Daxter's lap. Daxter began to comb his fingers through Jak's hair, as he did he remembered the first time Jak had rubbed his head. There had been an especially bad storm outside. The wind was howling, the house creaking, and the thunder was so loud it shook his room. He had to have only been around 7 or 8. When Jak had found him hiding under his bed, Daxter tried to deny his fear. After all, being scared of storms? That was kid's stuff! Jak silently coaxed him out from under the bed. Then Daxter had lain in his lap, similar to how they were now. The two of them had fallen asleep together in Daxter's room, with Jak's hand still on his head.

Daxter continued to rake his fingers through Jak's hair, his heart aching for his best friend. But, slowly, he watched as Jak's shoulders relaxed, his fists unclenched, and the corners of his mouth no longer sagged downwards. After what felt like an hour, Daxter heard Jak's breathing take on the long and deep rhythm of sleep. Daxter continued his ministrations, until, he too, succumbed to exhaustion.

Daxter awoke sometime later. The sun had barely begun its ascent over the horizon, staining the bottom of the sky a pinkish orange. Daxter looked down at Jak sitting in his lap. He looked so peaceful, he really didn't want to wake him up, after everything he had gone through, he deserved some solace. But Daxter was hungry, and had to go to the bathroom. He tried to fight his urges as long as he could, but once his stomach gave an especially loud growl, he realized he couldn't wait any longer. Thankfully, at that moment, whether it was Daxter's rowdy stomach, or on his own accord, Jak stirred.

"What time is it?" Jak murmured.

"'don't know, early." Daxter replied.

Jak sighed, and sat up.

"I'm gunna head to the bathroom, then fix us some breakfast, okay big guy?" Daxter said.

Jak hummed a reply. Daxter stared at him for a moment. Jak sagged forward, his posture exhausted and defeated, even though he had slept he still had bags under his eyes. His blue eyes stared unfocused at the floor. Daxter felt his heart break, as he tore his eyes away from Jak, and headed for the bathroom.

As he hopped up onto the toilet, Daxter's mind raced. Of course a good night's sleep wouldn't be enough to fix Jak, but he had hoped it would have at least helped. But Jak looked just as bad as he did last night, if not worse. Jak needed help, and it was clear to him Daxter was not fit to take on this task alone. Yet, he had promised Jak he wouldn't tell anyone. When he had seen him sitting there in that stall, the dried fluid on his legs, that broken look in his eye. In that moment, of course he would say anything to comfort Jak, to shield him from this harsh world and anyone else who would mean to do him harm. Now, Daxter realized, as he washed his hands, it was foolish of him to make such a promise.

"Hey, buddy. What did you want for breakfast?" Daxter asked, trying to sound as normal as possible.

Jak was quiet, he hadn't moved from his spot on the couch. His shoulders were back up by his ears, and he was trembling slightly.

"Jak?" Daxter asked.

Jak finally snapped out of his trance, he glanced at Daxter briefly, before turning his head down again.

"I, uh… I'm gunna take a shower." Jak muttered before walking briskly to the bathroom. Daxter stood grief-stricken when he heard the door shut. When he heard the water begin to run, he knew what he had to do.