A/N: Late chapter again, I know. But my laptop decided to go PMS on me, and that's where my story was. I finally bullied it into working one last time before I take it to be repaired, and here are the fruits of my efforts! No Ashelin this chapter, either, but she'll be in the next one. This one just wrote itself purely Jak and Dax, an equally important relationship in this story considering that my universe Jak practices bros before hos.
Also, RicciG is to be thanked for this chapter again. Pretty pictures!
Disclaimer: Grawr!
Coming of Age
Chapter 4: Multiple Imbalance
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I swear to God if that stupid Jinx guy calls me Blondie one more time, I'm gonna shoot him in the face with the Vulcan Fury. Watch him dance under rapid-fire rounds, because that bastard deserves it. Mog…is tolerable. Kind of like a retarded gorilla. He's okay mainly because he called me his hero, and it's nice to have support, even from mentally-handicapped apes. That other guy…what's his name? I don't even know what his name is. I'm sure it'll surface sooner or later; I remember Jinx's name because he's the supposed 'leader' of this rag-tag group, and I know Mog's because both of them keep telling him to shut up.
But I digress…on…a topic that hasn't begun yet. Which will right now. These idiots can't seem to comprehend the fact that they should stay behind me unless they want a bullet in the ass. It's hard enough to hold off Metalheads from all sides, and it makes it harder that they're being complete and utter idiots about the formation. Since I'm the one with the gun-power and seemingly the only one here with any sort of combat experience, you'd think they'd let me scout ahead and clear the rooms for them before they waltz right in. Right?
Wrong! Why's that? Because that would make Jak's life easier! So while I'm busy grabbing my spoils or cleaning up behind their sorry asses, they jog ahead. And what happens when our little tour group jogs ahead without the escort? They get attacked. And what happens if one of them gets hurt because my break-neck sprint isn't enough to get there in time?
I get bitched at. By Jinx, Nasal-Voice asshole. "Jak, over here!" "We're not payin' you to stand around." "Will you take care of these guys?"
I would love to just turn around and scream, "I fuckin' would if you would stay in one damn place long enough for me to get there!" But no, I'm not going to do that. Because I'm better than that. Better than them. By so, so much.
And now we have a problem. There's some of those laser Metalheads up in front, and for once the Three Stooges have decided that going ahead would not be a good idea, so thankfully they leave it to me and wait behind me. Just three Metalheads, right? I can handle these bitches.
Unfortunately, they were smart and started sweeping their heads so that there's rarely a break in the lasers in order for me to get a crucial shot in. I'm hiding behind this pillar, listening to the metal hiss with every hit, and I poke my head out past it and fire off a wild shot only to have my shoulder clipped by one of those burning lasers.
Now, let's take a moment here to analyze something. Take your hand and press it to a hot stove. Keep it there for about ten seconds. Now transfer that feeling to your shoulder, and poke a couple needles in for good measure. Not nice, right?
Well, all I can do is grin and bear it, or in my case, snarl and bear it, but the tell-tale squeal echoing off of the ceiling tells me that I got one of the little hellions. So all I gotta do is fire off one more shot, pray it hits the same one, and then the lasers should lag enough for me to jump out and finish them off with the Blaster. Instead of being stupid twice, I take my gun in my right hand and slip my finger into the trigger hole, squeezing softly. I hold my breath; gotta time this right, or my hand is cinders-
There. Lag. I drop my hand –and gun- out past the pillar and fire off a couple of shots, yanking it back just as sizzling energy filled the space my limb had occupied milliseconds before. But my reward is a dying shriek, and I grin, jumping out into the space created by the absence of a third laser and finishing off the last two with four pinpoint-accuracy shots. Cocksuckers! Rot down here.
"That was dangerous, Jak," Daxter exclaims, wiping imaginary sweat from his brow. I glare; not like he was the one in danger. No, he was safe on my left shoulder…exactly where he should be. Let him tell his stories, but Dax couldn't take on three laser Metalheads on his own. Better me get hurt than him get fried, least I have more body mass to char.
Jinx says something along the line of a congratulations, and we all skip merrily onward, me in the lead for once. Y'know, in this entire time down-
FUCKING CHRIST!
I wheel around and slam my back against the stone, knocking what little breath left in my lungs out with a weak 'whoosh!' My heart is pounding like a bass drum, hammering against my ribcage, demanding to be let out. I clutch at the cloth over it and will it to slow down, and eventually it does. It occurs to me suddenly that Daxter has seized my hair and is tugging it in an attempt to grab my attention. Gulping down mouthfuls of air, I politely ask him what's wrong. "Dax, what the fuck is wrong with you."
"Well, Jak, considering I nearly toppled off your shoulder and into enemy fire, I think you'd better be a teensy bit more courteous, eh?" He actually sounds pissed off. I guess it was rather abrupt, but blue fire erupting right in front of your nose isn't exactly something I had planned for, although I should have thought that sharp corners equals enemy ambush. I hate Metalheads. "But I have a point to this." He holds up his finger. The point. "I wanted to say that I noticed something."
"Yes Daxter." I feel like a teacher humoring a particularly stupid child. I'm pretty sure this is what it's really like.
"There are more laser-shooting-Metalheads around that corner."
It's actually quite difficult to keep my temper under control, much more difficult than I think anybody knows, even Daxter. I can't count on my hands how many times I've had to stop and take deep breaths, lest I do something drastic that I'm positive I would've regretted in the near future. It's not that big of a deal to me, because this change was actually pretty gradual over the two years I was imprisoned, but I can see how it would be a shock to people like Daxter and Keira, who've never seen me talk, let alone lose my temper. I'm pretty sure that the first time I blew my stack at Daxter without going dark was a strange thing for him. He barely talked for the rest of the day, and made me feel so guilty that I was begging out an apology come sunset.
Despite this, it's very hard for me to resist tossing him into the fray as a decoy.
"Daxter."
"Yes, old chum?"
"If you would kindly shut up, I'll work on keeping us alive, okay?"
"Righty-o." Daxter may have the biggest motormouth of existance, but even he knows when to be quiet and let me work. Luckily, he's not being sarcastic and he actually does settle down, crawling over to my right shoulder –whoa, imbalance- for better cover, considering the air is thick with blue fire just to my left.
Ack, worse than I thought. I'm not used to him being on my right shoulder. I'm almost leaning over. "Dax, you can't sit there. You're throwing me off. Just geddown and let me take care of it, it's safer down there anyways."
Without question –I'm pretty sure he'd inquire about my sanity if he knew my plan- he scurries down my arm and settles onto the ground right next to my boots. I equip my Vulcan Fury barrel, take a deep breath, wink down at Dax, and throw myself directly into the line of fire.
"Jak-!!"
I don't even know if the lasers hit me, because the next thing I know I'm lying on the ground with a thousand blue shells around me, three smouldering, pockmarked metalheads in front of me, and Daxter shaking my arm so hard he might just jolt it right out of the socket. He's making a terrible racket.
"Jak! Jak, you idiot, get up! What the hell is wrong with you, going in like that! You're always the one who says to wait for it and find their weak spot, why the fuck would you-"
"Because sometimes there's nothing you can do but jump in with guns blazing," I mutter, and sit up, much to his orange, fuzzy delight. Body check! Fun part of putting yourself into mortal danger.
Ah, that burn from before on my right shoulder. That's not too bad. Hmm…a couple of grazing burns on my calves, again, nothing really bad. Wow, I actually got out of this pretty good. I'm not even all that hurt, nothing a little aloe can't fix. Probably the worst injury I have is that bump on my head from when I toppled over- why did I topple over? I don't understand. "Hey, Dax? Uh…refresh my memory."
Daxter, apparently so used to this routine that he doesn't even have to think about it or ever wonder why I'm asking, considering I didn't go Dark, replies, "You jumped out of there like a bat outta hell and just started shooting like crazy, and screaming like it too. I guess it'd be considered cool, if you were wearing some kickass armor and had a sword and stuff, but to me you just looked like a madman. More than usual."
"Right. Thanks." Sword and armor? Nutcase. Maybe I fell over from shock? Tch, not likely. Whatever, the occasional blackout never killed anyone, and I'm in one place with all my money in my pocket and my pants around my waist, so fate will leave me unfazed. Ahh, stretch, stretch. Dammit, I used up most of my Vulcan ammo. I was hoping to save that stuff for emergencies, but no use bitching about it now. I can only hope that I find some more KG crates down here. Hopefully one of 'em will have some green eco too, because now that I'm thinking about it, those burns actually hurt a lot.
"Nice shootin', Jak!" Jinx. "I can see why Krew favors you so much now. No price is too high to pay to get the mission done."
Well…there are some prices I'm not willing to pay.
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I retract my previous statement.
Now Jak is storming around like a bat outta hell. I don't even know what's wrong with him anymore. All I know is that those guys set those bombs and he freaks out and yells at 'em, and then when the dust clears and they pick up that big jewel-thing, I take a glance at his face and see him glaring physical dismemberment and death at their backs. I swear to God that if he had the chance, he'd have nailed their balls to the wall…slowly. It's just a statue, what's the deal?
And it's not as if he'll offer any kind of rational explanation as to why he's so pissed off, no. All he does is just stomp up the path back to the sewers entrance and shoot at the wall a couple times, bursting into vivid phrases that involve their mothers, several swear words, and certain barnyard animals. If I was on his, "Vow to Kill in the Near Future" list, which apparently is growing by the minute and already occupied by the Baron, Krew, Torn and every KG in the city, I would be very afraid.
As if I wasn't spooked now. He's practically breathing fire. I wouldn't be surprised if he started, though, because for all I know that could be some other new dark power. You never know with him.
"I hate this city!" he suddenly screams at the sky, throwing down his gun –his precious, baby gun!- next to his feet like a toddler throwing his juicy cup. Hell, he's acting like a toddler with a tantrum. He might as well start stomping his feet and throwing himself to the ground; it would hardly seem out of the ordinary. But needless to say, I'm a bit fed up with him not telling me why he's so angry, so I decide to act. Cautiously.
"Jak, I hate to break it to you, but join the freakin' club. You mind telling me what's got you all hot and bothered, Blondie?"
Oh, that was a mistake. That was a big mistake.
Suddenly, all that anger and hatred is directed towards me with only the turn of his head, and he snarls through gritted teeth, "Don't call me that," reaching out with one hand to grab me from his shoulder as I cower down on it.
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Holy fuck, what am I doing?
You were about to seriously maim and possibly kill your best friend, idiot, another part of my mind tells me. I thank…um, myself…for this observation and quickly lower my hand to clench at my side. This is bad. Anger I'm okay with. Hate…I'm okay with, as long as it's directed at those who deserve it.
Me getting ready to injure my best friend? I don't think so. Not acceptable.
"Dax…I'm sorry, I don't…I…" A little paw gingerly pats my ear, like someone would pat a dying, rabid dog. But I don't deserve his comfort, not when I was about to….yeugh. Just the thought of me trying to hurt Daxter is disgusting. Makes my skin crawl. "You go ahead to the hideout. If Torn asks where I am, tell him that I said that it's none of his fucking business. Oh, and here-" Where is it, dammit? I know I have some, I know I…there it is. I shove our last five credits into his paws and gently lower him to the ground, where he stares at the money, and then me. "Take this. Get yourself something to eat, because you're gettin' way too bony for my tastes."
"Jak, I can't…this is the last of our money, I can't take this. Here, you take it, you do all the work anyways-"
I hold up my hand and to my great surprise, he stops talking. Just like that. If I had known that would work, I would have tried it months ago. "No. I don't-" I stop myself before finishing the sentence, I don't deserve it because I know he'd go on and on and on about how I do and blah blah blah. Shut up! I'm making a point. "I'm not…" Dammit, I can't say I'm not hungry either, because the truth is I'm starving, and I don't wanna lie to him. Finally, I settle on, "Just take it. I need some time to cool down, and we both know that my self-restraint as of late is in terrible condition, so…I think you'd be safer, ironically, on the streets than you would with me. Just go straight to the hideout after getting whatever you want and wait for me there; I promise I'll get back before it gets dark. Okay?"
Daxter looks back down at the credits, then with that miracle-working humor of his, salutes me with the currency and grins. "Well, the good Lord above knows that I'm starving to death, and you giving me this money just saved my life. I suppose we're even now, since I went and saved yours a while back." He turns and saunters off, immediately taking to the upper walkways to avoid air traffic jumping up and down. He leans over the edge for a moment, grins at me and calls, "See ya in a few!" and disappears from my sight.
…I don't know what I did to deserve him as a friend, but I don't remember ever being good enough.
A/N: REVIEWS!! Yeek!
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Dude: Uh, what? ::rereads:: Oh, okay. Thanks! I'm glad it's written well, I aim to please! And I'm glad you think I write Dax and Ashelin well; the chick is harder than I thought.
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Fearsomedeity: Thanks! I like JakxAshelin pairings too, and yes, there are far too few of those. I wish I could see more out there. ::pouts:: But until that day comes, I shall continue with mine!!
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Dragoonknight1: Um…as far as I know, I have yet to read a Yuri Mary-Sue. Besides, Mary-Sues are almost NEVER good. Only on rarer-than-Haley's-Comet-occasions has there ever been a good one. And since Haley's Comet is fairly rare…I've never read one. And sure, Light Jak can heal himself, but he is bitched when he runs outta white eco. Cuz I am INVINCIBLE. Mwaha.
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Lunatic Pandora1: Oh, fuck, I'm sorry. I did write a response; here's the one I had for your last review: Lunatic Pandora1: Yeah, that was good. I've lived around enough guys to know that if their team/driver wins whatever they're trying to win, personal space is a moot point for about five seconds, and then they pretend it didn't happen. Tee hee!
I have yet to read a Jak/Tess, and I don't think there'd be many due to the simple fact that from the start, Tess was hopelessly devoted to Dax (who'da thunk?). But if there is one out there, I'd like to read it!
Ashelin/Torn is so common…I just wanted to see Jak get the hot girl, and I've never read an Ashelin/Jak story, nor had I seen one. I decided to make one of the first!
Sorry! And here's my response to this one!
I wouldn't know if torn fingernails hurt, because luckily, I've never torn one off. I mean they're completely OFF OF HIS HANDS. Like, no more fingernail. That very thought made me shudder like a madman. UrrrrRRRRUUUgghhghgh.
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RicciG: ACK! I saw them! I love your pretty pictures, and every time I get so worried that I've lost too much interest and can't continue, you come along with the GORGEOUSNESS and bring it all back! This is the second time everyone has to thank you for bringing about another chapter! W00t!
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Ex-seal-66: Thank you, I will, and I'll try! Augh. You are right. Thanks, I just fixed it. I unfortunately do not have a PS2, so I was basing this off of what I played at my friend's house, so I didn't have a ready source to check. But now I do! Because I bought and taped all the cut scenes, cuz I'm that damn good. Thanks for pointing that out!
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Von: You know what? I know why I like your name now. Because the first anime I ever saw was Escaflowne, and the main character, Van, his name is pronounced 'von.'
Yeah. Off subject. Back on!
Oh, I know. I had AOL, and the bitch booted me off whenever I was doing something that seems to be rather important and time-consuming, AKA writing reviews or journal entries. But dots!
Thanks!
I know, Ashelin was a bitch of a whiny mooch in 3, but whatever. Jak looked like he wanted to kiss her anyways. Because she's hot? Who cares.
Aw, thanks. I try, I try…and I know what you mean about laughing yourself stupid. Me and my best friend Lindsey just spent the last two hours making fun of Mega Man (don't get me wrong, MM's the shits) and we nearly DIED.
I am writing as…rabidly as I can. While making it coherent. And somewhat good.
You are very welcome. Thanks for the review!
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grafik content: Thank you very much! It's my personal belief that OOCness usually ruins a story, unless it's written remarkably well, so I try to apply that rule to myself as strictly as possible.
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Etheral Shadow: ::dies from the lateness of her posting:: It make you feel moldy? Is that a good thing? And yeah, it is disappointing that they only love him for his body. Oh well, you take what you can get.
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andriod181: I'll do my best.
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miow: Woo, well, this chapter is really late, so I guess we're even. Ahh, Keira is a snoot. But whatever.
Thanks! Dax isn't that hard once you try to understand him. And yes, death to Mary Sues. They are hate crimes against the people.
Yeah, I tried to come up with a different feel for the Jak/DarkJak transformations. I've heard that DJ is a different person, or that it's actually Jak when he goes Dark, and he means to do all that stuff, so I decided to kind of mesh the two. Which is cool by me.
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blissfully ignorant: W00t! Thanks! And I shall!
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someone: Thanks! Oh, was there supposed to be a link in your review? It doesn't show it...