1Fear of the dark feels like something Jak would still have from his time in prison.
"It's so good to sleep in a bed for a change!" the ottsel almost sang, as he and his grumpier than usual blonde friend entered the Underground hideout, heading towards a set of bunk beds – well-deserved after a particularly perilous mission in Dead Town. Both wondered if Torn was sending them into danger on purpose as some form of bizarre revenge. The brunette certainly gave no inclination of enjoying their presence.
Jak chose the top bunk, preferring a higher place for the night. It provided a much-needed reminder of soaring through the Mountain Pass on Keira's A-Grav zoomer, heading for the Red Sage's laboratory in Volcanic Crater and battling to rescue the world from the Dark Eco-infected Gol and Maia, with their army of Lurker slaves.
For once, Daxter didn't argue about being stuck on the bottom bed, which would have been perceived as strange behaviour to anyone who didn't intimately know the pair. The silence spoke volumes. A decade's partnership meant little that could be hidden from one another. The pint-sized male remained unsure exactly what his companion thought of these days, although understood little good existed in the city, and even less in the Fortress. The blonde clearly couldn't recover from that trauma anytime soon.
The ottsel offered a soft pat on his friend's shoulder as a wordless goodnight, then manoeuvred towards the lamp. However, as soon as furry fingers made contact with its off switch, a deep voice rose in protest.
"Leave it on." Whispered words suppressing whimpers. There was no telling how far Jak's mind would distort the shadows – a place of those who broke innocent men and women, offering smiles in light and knives in darkness. He encountered many in the last two years, and far too intimately.
"Sure, man," Daxter responded, uncharacteristically calm and reserved, then hopped onto the lower bunk and curled into the itchy woollen blankets that tonight were a blessing.
The hero stared at the lamp for a full minute, until water pricked his eyes, so smothered the weakness and agony into a pillow, muffling anguished cries ripping from his vocal chords. It was far from enough, the sobs diminishing and leaving him raw and empty, albeit stronger.
However damaging the darkness, he was not broken. Hope laid in the light.
