Author's Notes: I present to you all a modern-ish AU of Jak and Daxter. I'm using the basic plot of Jak II, loosely, but with major twists. Keep that in mind as you read.

These chapters have all been beta-read by the amazing Solziv, who also writes stories! Her story Catalyst actually inspired me to write this story, and I blame her for getting me into the pairing of Jak and Taryn haha

Don't be afraid to drop a review and let me know your thoughts. Brownie points if you know what song the title is from.

Enjoy!

Chapter 1 - Home

Returning to Haven City was something Jak only dreamt of, and to see it become a reality was a mild shock. Three years had passed since he last stepped foot in the familiar concrete jungle, but it felt longer than that, almost like ten years had passed by. His time away serving in a war far from home wasn't his ideal situation, but he had made his decision and had to deal with the consequences. He never expected to be sent out on the frontlines right off the bat, though; apparently, the war was worse than anyone cared to mention.

Pushing open the door to The Naughty Ottsel, Jak met with a nearly empty bar that had a small gathering around the back counter. Coming next to his immediate attention was that familiar drawl of his best friend, a noticeable Bronx accent flavoring his words. Sliding up to the counter and blending in with the rest of the crowd, Jak made it just in time to hear one of the infamous stories the redhead was known for.

"And there I was, leavin' the bar late one night, when a hooded figure came up to me. I was all like, 'sorry, bud, but we're closed. Take a hike!' But he wasn't havin' any of it! He pulled out a knife, and I know it was one by how it glinted in the poor lighting. I was quick when he went to go stab, and I danced to the side like a flash of lightnin'. That's why I got my nickname, you know, Orange Lightnin'. Anyway, I managed to kick the blade from his hand, which startled him and scared him off. He was lucky he ran away before I got my hands on 'im." Accompanying Daxter's flamboyant storytelling, his hands waved about and his voice spiked for dramatic effect, giving his words an extra oomph.

The crowd gave a murmuring of disbelief before slowly disbanding, leaving Daxter yelling after them that he had another story more interesting, but it was too late.

Daxter sighed and hung his head. He was about to slide off the counter top and shuffle away, but a voice stopped him.

"I think you needed a bit more excitement. You lost them halfway through," Jak grinned. "I've heard better from you."

Daxter's body froze, and he seemed to shift all at once. His eyes fell on the blond, growing considerably in size. "Jak? Holy hell, Jak!" The redhead laughed, bounding from his perch on the counter to wrap his friend in a big hug. "You're back earlier than you said you'd be! Why didn't you tell me, huh? I woulda picked ya up."

The ex-soldier hugged him back tightly, grinning and pulling away just enough to look at him with a sheepish smile. "Broke my phone."

"'Course ya did, big guy." Daxter patted his arm before taking a step back and soaking in the sight of the man before him. "So, how ya been? How was the army? Precursors, it's been three years. You look good, though," He ran a hand through his messy red mop, throwing a sideways smile toward Jak.

The blond laughed, "I wrote you, didn't I? I told you what was happening, which was nothing exciting, honestly."

"Nothing exciting happened while serving on the frontlines?" Daxter stared at him skeptically. "What, was the war already fought by the time you arrived?" Daxter countered the lame excuse, in return earning himself an unamused stare from his friend, which he laughed off. "Anyway, did ya meet anyone special while you were away? Any exotic lady friends from the desert?" Daxter wiggled his eyebrows, nudging the blond enough to earn a smile.

"And where would I have found the time to do that?" Jak shot back with good humor and a light chuckle.

Daxter smiled warmly. "True. Besides, you've always been antisocial. I bet you didn't make a single friend while away, huh? Well, at least none who could replace me."

"No one could possibly replace you, Dax. You're one of a kind." Jak pushed him in the shoulder with another laugh, and suddenly Daxter was joining in, the two of them bursting at the seams with no real reason why.

When they quieted, Jak took a good look at his best friend and grinned. "I missed ya, Dax. It wasn't the same without you."

"I missed ya too, big guy."

"You got a nice place here, by the way. I remember in one of your letters you telling me that you bought it, but how'd you afford it? And where the hell did you come up with the name? Or the sign, for that matter." The blond laughed and gave the bar a good once-over, noticing how the patrons who had crowded in the back had returned to their seats, before settling his eyes back on the redhead. Jak couldn't help but notice how his friend seemed to finally grow into his large front teeth. Not much else had changed about Daxter though. He had the same striking red hair with gold undertones, the same wide smile and loud mouth, and the same scrawny yet deceivingly muscular build that was very much him. It was good to be home.

Jak narrowed his eyes abruptly as a thought struck him. "Wait, didn't this place used to be The Hip Hog?"

Daxter chuckled, "You remember Krew? The dude who was, like, the size of one of those freight boats? Well, he croaked one day and his bar went up for sale. You know that Tess used to work for 'im, so the moment that mess started she told me. We talked about it, about starting a business together and sealing the deal, y'know. The name just came naturally to me, but you wanna know the cool thing? There's a small apartment upstairs." He hooked a thumb toward the door behind the bar and winked at Jak, who simply stared back with one eyebrow raised.

"What's that look for, Dax?"

"An apartment. With two bedrooms. You know what that means, right?"

"Uh, am I supposed to?"

Daxter sighed dramatically. "Who's back in town after three years with no place to stay? Who has an extra room and would love to have his best friend stay with him? Need I be more blunt, buddy?"

"Oh." Jak sat back a little, contemplating the news, and then it hit him. "Oh. Really? You'd do that?"

"Of course I would. I'd be a real dick if I didn't. You're my brother, man." The loudmouth hooked an arm around Jak's shoulders and forced the taller man to slide off the stool he was perched upon. Jak had barely enough time to reach down and snatch his duffle bag before the redhead ushered him behind the counter and through the door.

Daxter flicked on a light once the door shut snugly behind them.

"What about the bar? And where's Tess?" Jak looked down at his companion.

Daxter shrugged. "Tess was around serving, I think, but she's got it handled. Besides, I gotta show ya yer room." He led Jak through the bar's kitchen and up a flight of stairs to the actual house part of the building, which consisted of a moderately-sized kitchen, a living room, a much bigger bathroom than Jak expected, and the two bedrooms. Daxter took him to the room at the far end of the hall and pushed the door open to reveal a double bed, a dresser, and a nightstand with a lamp. "It ain't much, but it's a place to call home, right?" The redhead laughed, patting the bigger man on the shoulder.

Jak nodded, walking inside and dropping his bag on the floor just beside the bed. He turned to look at his friend. "Thanks, Dax. I honestly hadn't thought of where I'd be staying."

"Anytime, Jak. We're brothers. That's what we do." He smiled warmly, retreating backwards through the door, "I'll let ya settle. Come down to the bar whenever you're ready, if ya want to. I know Tess would like see ya, but if you're too tired, that's all good. There's always the morning." With a wink, the redhead was gone and the ex-soldier was alone in the dimly lit room.

The blond faced the bed, the thought of unpacking and going back down to see Tess shattered by a massive yawn.

"There's always the morning," Jak echoed Daxter's words with another yawn, kicking his boots off and peeling back the covers. After being on a train for a day, followed by a bus ride and then the walk to the bar itself, Jak didn't want to think about anything but the soft mattress below him as he drifted off into a calm, deep sleep.

l

lll

l

Woken with a start, Jak shot upward in bed, panting and with sweat forming along his brow.

So much for a peaceful sleep, but then again, the fact he had acquired approximately three hours of undisturbed rest was a new record for him.

Throwing back the thin covers, nothing but a flat sheet and woven blanket, the blond planted his socked feet on the carpeted floor and rested his elbows on his knees with a heavy sigh. He wasn't sure how much time had passed from when he first got on that train, probably a day or so by now, but regardless, it felt surreal to be home.

Home.

He hadn't had a home in three years.

If he had known what fate had in store for him, he would've spared himself the pain and stayed right where he was in his oblivious world where life was good.

Blending back into the crowd after what he'd seen? After what he'd endured? Jak didn't think that was possible, but it wasn't as if he had much of a choice.

With a tired breath, the ex-soldier stood and meandered from his room and down the hallway to the living room situated across from the kitchen. He dropped heavily onto the couch, reaching for the television remote that sat on the coffee table, the same piece of furniture where his feet found comfort resting on.

He flicked on the television, a boxy thing with a bubbled screen, and raised an eyebrow at the old piece of technology before the screen crackled to life and a blond newscaster was pictured. The man was giving some report on the local races, but Jak was only half listening as he stared at the picture blankly. He changed the station, switching to a channel where some movie was playing. He heard gunfire and saw soldiers running through the crumbling buildings of a city, barking orders and raising their weapons, but all Jak saw was a pained shade of red before he hastily changed the channel again.

Channel after channel it was the same bullshit. News station after news station reporting on the war or some local crime committed, sitcom after sitcom displaying the same type of people in the same type of situations, reality shows about idiots living in a small space together, documentaries on animals ripping each other apart, movies filled with violence; everything contributed to Jak's budding headache and growing frustration.

Eventually, he shut the damned thing off and threw the remote at the wall just to the right of the TV, thankfully missing the old device, but the remote still clattered to the hardwood floor in various pieces. He vaguely had a flashback to his cellphone, which had recently suffered a similar fate.

Jak let his head fall backwards on the cushions, bringing his hands up to run over his face with a frustrated growl. He wished he could go back to sleep, but he knew what waited behind those closed lids. He'd rather not face those demons right now, or ever, for that matter.

Turning his head, Jak squinted and read the time on the stove as nine-thirty—just early enough for the bar to start coming alive and just late enough for the streets to be mostly empty.

Having made his decision, the blond pushed himself off the couch and made for his bedroom. He flicked on the light and snatched up his dusty boots, yanking them on as quickly as his shaking hands could manage. He didn't bother with a coat as he hurriedly passed through the house, tromped down the stairs, and pushed through the door leading to the inside of the bar counter.

The stuffy air of the bar was constricting him to the point of near panic, so Jak quickly rushed for the door across the room and unceremoniously stumbled through it. He nearly collided with a young couple, both giving him dirty looks but only the male yelling a warning.

Jak hadn't even noticed them as his lungs swallowed the cool air, the crispness allowing his brain to take a moment to breathe and calm down before he lost it. Quickly walking from the bar and toward the gun range, Jak ran his hands through his hair and let out a frustrated growl, earning a few strange looks from passerby.

Perhaps taking a spin at the gun range would help ease his mind? He always adored guns, which was probably part of the reason why he and Tess got along so well. A fleeting thought crossed his mind then, a thought of asking said bubbly blonde to join him at the range, but he quickly squashed it. He'd rather go to the range alone. He wanted the space and for his sole focus to be on shooting the target at the end of the line rather than holding up a conversation with someone, even if that someone was Tess.

Unfortunately, the range was closed at this late hour, which Jak suspected the moment his brain conjured up the initial thought. He'd have to come back tomorrow, or perhaps the following day, to vent his frustrations before he let them out on someone he cared about.

Continuing around the Port, Jak followed the path around the buildings and across the water until he was back in front of The Naughty Ottsel. The short walk helped clear his mind some. He hadn't wanted to stray too far from home, but at the same time it felt too soon.

As Jak contemplated going for another walk around, a yawn interrupted his thoughts. Although his brain still felt wired and his body felt abuzz with restlessness, he knew he couldn't spend all night walking off his unease.

Sighing dejectedly, Jak returned to the bar and up to his room to attempt sleeping once more. If Daxter or Tess noticed his absence or noticed him hurriedly escape the bar only to come back however minutes later in a somber mood, neither mentioned it.