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Love is War	By : grimreaperchibi Category: +G through L > Jak & Daxter Views: 4213 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Jak & Daxter, nor the places, people, or objects within. I make no money writing this. Additional disclaimer within.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
A/N: Stick, sticky, sappy, sap... You might need some wet wipes or something handy by the time you get done with this. Here it is, folks, the title chapter and inspiration for the whole escapade. I wish I could find the original creator, but considering how many times this song has been resourced... I don't have the time to crawl that far into Nico Nico. The Nodoame cover is my favorite version and really, the whole song is relevant, but the ending part is still my favorite. If you haven't listened to anything else I've had up, go listen to this one. I'm serious. Go.
Robin: Slippery slope navigated (hopefully). I hope you like your fluff. All of it.
Ryangley: I'm very glad that you've enjoyed this. Do not be jealous--about half the time, what I'm doing gets scrapped. I've just learned the process.
Additional Disclaimer: The lyrics used within are part of the fair use clause of copyright law and remain the property of the individual artists and recording companies to which they belong. Any misconstruing/mistyping of the lyrics is strictly the fault of the author. All lyrics are used here only for setting ambience.
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Chapter 10 – Ai wa Sensou (KAITO Ver.)
Slowly, silence filled the cavern, settling with a heavy finality no one dared break. It was as if simply breathing too hard would cause reality to shatter around them, undoing everything accomplished so far. But as the seconds continued to pass without another sick, twisted joke being played out, it began to sink in that the end actually meant the end this time. They stared at each other, battered, bleeding and in complete shock, barely daring to hope.
They had won. And then, perhaps, more importantly—
They were still alive.
The enormity of it all was staggering. Though their words might have been to the contrary, it had been understood that walking away from this encounter wasn’t at all likely. A direct assault on the Metalhead Nest had never resulted in more than the decimation of the attacking force—why would their attempt meet with any better success? But somehow, it had turned out better and now the Metalhead Leader was nothing more than singed gore and smoking bits strewn around his last hiding place.
To be honest, though, Kor had killed himself. Sure, Jak had done a fair amount of damage with his dark eco powers, finally losing all of his hesitation and reservation when it came to his unwanted abilities. Daxter had felt it pour out like a lanced lesion with every strike that landed, all the hate, fear, frustration, and revulsion the blond had no doubt been carrying quietly all this time. The sheer force of all that had certainly wounded, maybe even crippled the metallic bastard, but it hadn’t killed him. No, the honour of finally ending his miserable reign of terror had to be given to the Precursors and their infernal creation that had started this whole mess, the Rift Gate.
Maybe he’d finally seen his death in those liquid black eyes. Figured out that against the two of them, he really didn’t stand a chance of living even if he managed to kill them in the process. Whatever it was that had prompted Kor to try and make a run for the Rift Gate didn’t really matter in the long run. What mattered was that the Universe finally turned in their direction and stopped the whole mess from starting over somewhere else in the timeline. With an astronomically lucky combination of sustained wounds, a powerful wave of dark eco, and a couple well placed rounds from the blaster rifle, Kor rammed into the relic rather than going through it. The floating pieces had scythed through the large, carapaced body while frying it with the raw energy it contained. The end effect was rather like watching an un-cracked piece of shellfish being overcooked, the internal pressure rising until the whole thing exploded. Even from across the cavern where he’d been pressed into a crevice, taking out all the other Metalheads Kor produced (which was not something the redhead planned to think about at all if he could help it), Daxter had been spattered with the gore and knocked senseless by the resulting explosion.
So what if they hadn’t been the final bullet in the brain? Kor was more than burnt toast and they’d been there to make sure of that. In his book, that was as good as killing the son of a bitch himself.
Never one to leave well enough alone, Daxter eased out of his hole and limped over to where Jak was staring at Kor’s head, the only piece that hadn’t turned to pulp. It was slow progress with the ground torn up from battle and his already twisted ankle protesting every step of the way, but he eventually came to rest at the blond’s side. It was very tempting to pump a few more rounds into the cracked yellow gem just for good measure, but he was really more concerned about Jak. The total lack of an emotional response was kind of concerning. This was the end of a very long road for him, and for once, Daxter didn’t want to push. A hug or something shouldn’t be out of line, would it? Wasn’t this something worth a little bit of celebrating?
He was still deciding what to do when a horrendous screech filled the air. Both he and Jak whirled, trying to determine where this new threat was coming from when something made Daxter look up. “Ya gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me…”
It was the Rift Gate. The impact and resulting explosion had apparently done something to the ancient artifact, causing the many pieces to wobble and lose sync. The screech increased as it became even more unstable, spitting metallic sparks and bolts of unconstrained energy as it began collapsing at an exponentially faster rate. It hit complete catastrophic failure in almost the same amount of time it took them to both realize what that failure would mean. Jak slammed into his side, knocking them both into the only relatively safe place left—the hole in the center of the room. The fall itself was mercifully short, if not somewhat hard. Despite all outward appearances, the pit Kor had so adamantly guarded was relatively shallow, only extending down somewhere near five feet and just about as wide around. More than enough clearance to protect them from the closely following explosion, but still far enough to fall that the abrupt stop at the end could stun.
Eventually, the world stopped ending. It took a bit longer for them to uncurl from their defensive positions. Daxter took a breath to say something, only to have Jak cut him off with a hand pressed over his mouth. “Don’t,” he warned. “Not a single sarcastic comment until we’re out of here.”
“Smartass,” Daxter hissed back after the hand was removed. “You don’t even know what I was gonna say!” The look Jak gave him said everything that really needed to be said on the subject. He was still set to argue the point when another twinge suddenly had him looking off to the side. Curled up on the far side of them in just about as small of a ball as possible was Widgit, his head buried into his knees with his hands over his ears, but thankfully looking none the worse for the experience. No wonder Kor had been so keen on defending this spot—his meal ticket was hidden there.
When pointed out, all Jak did was stare awkwardly. That was probably all right given it wasn’t everyday that someone was confronted with a younger version of themselves without being completely off their rockers first. Oh, that was going to be weird for a while, having two “Jaks” running around. It was probably a good idea to stick with Widgit for the foreseeable future. Even if they weren’t quite sure how, it did go a long way towards explaining more than a few things. But Daxter pushed all those thoughts aside as he crawled over and gently prodded the lump of shivering kid. As soon as those wondrous and now achingly familiar blue eyes looked up, the redhead found himself nearly knocked to the floor again by an over-enthusiastic hug. With an enormous sense of relief, his arms tightened around the smaller body in turn. “See? Told ya I’d be there when ya needed me the most.”
He was surprised when a second body pressed against his back, arms wrapping around both him and the kid. “Yes, you were,” Jak’s dark voice answered. Again, Daxter opened his mouth to say something and again, his friend beat him to the punch, silencing him with a quick kiss this time. “Later,” he promised. “When it’s all done and over with.”
“Then let’s grab the Precursor Stone and get it finished.”
Getting back out of the hole was a lot harder than getting into it had been. The sides and edge had been worn completely smooth and then covered with the shiny, pseudo-organic material they’d seen throughout the rest of the Nest area. Eventually it came down to a creative set of pulling, shoving, and tossing to gain a foothold on solid ground. Taking in their surroundings once more, Daxter couldn’t help but whistle in awe. Despite being flung all about the area, none of the pieces of the Rift Gate seemed to be damaged. That still didn’t do them a lot of good. Figured that they’d be able to win the war, but fail to find a way to get back home. All that hard work to get the Heart of Mar and the Time Map was now officially wasted, not to mention all the time and effort Keira had applied into rebuilding the Rift Rider. Thinking of which…
“Holy damn…Keira’s gonna be pissed.”
“It was in pieces when we found it the first time,” Jak replied rather carelessly. “She can put it back together again.”
“Yeah, but it took her months to do it that time. Besides, there’s a slightly more pressin’ issue –who the hell’s gonna haul it outta here? ‘Cuz I tell you right now, brother, I ain’t touchin’ anythin’ remotely Precursor in nature. We have been screwed over one too many times by their crap and I ain’t goin’ back to the fur, or endin’ up somewhere else in the timeline just ‘cuz someone forgot to carry a two somewhere. Not happenin’.”
Jak just shook his head. “One thing at a time, Dax. Find the Stone, save the city, then figure out what to with all—”
As if their shot nerves hadn’t had more than enough excitement for their lifetime’s today, a bright flash of light cut into the statement, earning an armed response from both of them. Apparently considering it safe enough to wander, Widgit had done just that and stumbled across the object of their search. The Precursor Stone pulsed softly a couple more times before emitting another bright flash. When the spots cleared from their vision, the light had condensed into a large, floating image. Daxter froze. Behind him, he heard Jak breath, “Oh, man… A Precursor.”
Thank you, a deep, resonant voice said, though the words were felt rather than actually heard. Because of your actions today, our ancient foe has been defeated and that which had been wrong, righted. Know now, brave one, that the darkness in you has been tempered by a glorious light. Until we met again…
The figure shimmered, then dissolved. There was a soft chiming sound as the Stone itself abruptly fell to pieces, breaking as easily as spun sugar, until nothing remained but a small ball of orange fur amid thousands of glittering stone fragments. Before he could be stopped, Widgit poked it. It wiggled in response, slowly uncurling. Ears perked up, a tail unfurled, tiny paws stretched. The little ottsel then sat up and chirped, a sound that was somehow questioning and expectant.
A part of Daxter was stunned. A part of him bubbled over with questions, curses, and a good old fashioned hissy-fit. The pieces were all lined up in his head, but he really couldn’t process the whole picture. He wasn’t sure he even wanted to try and risk the madness of understanding. He looked to Jak for support and only saw the confusion mirrored under exhaustion. For the first time, Daxter wisely shut his mouth and turned away. He wasn’t going to ask. He didn’t want to know anything other than, “We ready to go now?”
Jak blinked, the dazed look on his face replaced by the much more familiar one of focused determination. He stepped forward, scooping Widgit up, who seemed to have made friends with the ottsel kit and was clinging to it much like a favorite stuffed animal. The little beast seemed quite content to be as such, offering no resistance and even purring slightly when Jak came close. Kid now secure in one arm, the blond turned and pulled Daxter close with the other. There was a strong thrum of possessiveness now that they were all together, followed by a fierce protective rumble that pulsed in the background. Then rough lips pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Yeah. Let’s go home.”
***
With a snarl, Jak threw his weight into the door. It groaned in protest, but opened nonetheless. Another hard shove and it finally had budged far enough to let two tired renegades and their cargo tumble past. The bolt-hole of a safe house wasn’t much different from the one they’d found themselves in so long ago after sneaking into the Palace. Only this time instead of finding the cramped quarters threatening, Jak was thankful for the small, enclosed space. Easier to defend, less likely to be hiding a nasty surprise, and he could keep a direct eye on everyone at the same time. The fighting was mostly contained now to the Port and parts of the Southern Garden area, well away from this spot in the heart of the slums, but they had already paid the price once for not taking extra precautions. The death of Shadow-Samos in a supposedly secure location had rattled a lot of people, but it had also spurred on that final push to get the Metalheads out of the city. It had left Jak with an even more keen need to protect his own, one that still pumped strongly through his blood now, nearly a week after climbing out of the Metalhead Nest.
Daxter managed a tired smile for him when he looked over. Draped over his back, soundly asleep, was Widgit with the young ottsel they’d found nestled between them. “Go ahead,” the redhead said with a jerk of his chin. “Do yer rounds. I’ll check here an’ get him down.”
Jak hesitated a bit, that drive to ensure safety warring with the need to be close. Daxter gave him the look he’d perfected over the last few days. The one that said, “Go. Or I’m gonna shoot ya in the ass with yer own gun.” He knew better than to call that bluff (mostly because Torn already had once and was now sporting a red badge of courage for the effort), so Jak found it in his best interest to slip back out and make sure the area was indeed safe. He wasn’t the only one feeling aggressively protective. It was part of the reason they’d retreated back this far into the city. Now that things were quieting down, more people would notice the heir of Haven’s throne with them. And the more who noticed, the more likely it was that someone would try to use the kid—which was not going to happen as long as he and Daxter were breathing. No one, not Torn, not Ashelin, not even Samos, was going to destroy this chance for things to go right. An innocent child was not going to be used for someone else’s gain again.
Satisfied that they were as safe as they’d ever be, he returned to the safe house and bullied the door back into submission. Widgit was still asleep, bundled up in a blanket scrounged up from somewhere and curled into the far corner of the mattress on the floor. Daxter had lit some candles and was spreading them out, moving with a bad limp and the slow deliberateness of the exhausted. Finding Samos and having the Sage perform a full healing was the first thing they were going to do tomorrow, Jak decided. Thus far, all medical attention had been reserved to just enough to get them back and running again. The second degree plasma burns on the redhead’s arm had yet to be treated properly and if he twisted his ankle again, he was going to break it. Then, of course, there were the many other bumps, bruises, lacerations, and abrasions he’d accumulated throughout their recent adventures in trying to route the remaining Metalhead forces. Once they were back to full health, they could…
Could what exactly? There was nothing left to prepare for. No next mission to anticipate, no one to hunt down or try to avoid. Sure, there were still things that need to be done. With the last few stubborn enemy groups on the fast track to annihilation, energy would start turning to rebuilding the city, to getting a functioning government back up and running so that people could get the help they needed. But none of that was his job. He’d do what he could to help, that was a given. Ultimately, however, the weight of the world no longer rested on his shoulders. Success or failure wasn’t wholly dependent upon his actions anymore. His job was done. It was over.
The world tilted a bit as that thought took root. He found himself shaking, his eyes stinging, and it was suddenly hard to breath. It felt like his heart was going to break through his ribs. Jak clenched his hands, gritted his teeth, trying to force the rising emotion away before it overwhelmed him, to no avail. It pounded through his temples, made him ache in a way not entirely unlike the Dark Eco treatments had. Helpless, floundering, devastated, disappearing…
Cold hands on his face shocked him back to the present. Clear blue eyes wide with concern and worry grounded him to the moment. It persisted, though, the roiling, tumultuous feelings that left him feeling fragile and lost. His own hands held Daxter’s to his cheeks, trying to take that small comfort further than it could go. If anything, it only made that tenuous control of his slip even more.
“Jak…?!” Rising concern. Controlled panic. That instant rush of mental/emotion support edged with uncompromising ardor and the unflinchingly resolute will to right whatever was so terribly wrong helped him find his suddenly lost voice.
“It’s… Is it really…?” He couldn’t even get the words out. His throat kept constricting, choking him. But he had to get it out, had to hear it. “Tell me it’s over,” he finally managed miserably.
There was no hesitation, no reservation, no embellishment. “Yeah, big guy. It’s over.” And then he was pulled into the strongest hug Daxter could manage, which was still pretty damn strong.
In the face of those words and that embrace, Jak broke. Nearly three years of all the things he’d denied, locked away, or refused to acknowledge surged free now that there was nothing left to keep it in check. For the first time since that dark realization that he could no longer remember how long it had been since his capture, Jak cried, only instead of burying his face into his own arms, it was Daxter’s neck that he hid against. He pulled the other close, practically crushing the smaller form in his need to feel that weight and heat against his own. If he felt any discomfort, contorted and mauled as he was being, Daxter gave no indication of it. He simply let Jak do as was needed. Hands carded through disheveled blond hair, stroked down a trembling back. There was a soft murmur of reassurance bubbling over the top of everything else, helping soothe and soften the rough edges as Jak fell apart.
He cried out all the pain he’d ignored. Not just the physical pain of the eco treatements or the transformation they had brought about, but the emotional pain of being singled out, treated as less than human, left to die. He cried out the suppressed guilt for causing so much pain to others, for not caring about whom he hurt, for carrying out an ultimately pointless vendetta, for being the one who survived when so many others had not, strapped to that table or out on the streets. He cried for the loss of the only home he’d known, the childhood he been stripped of, had ripped away from others, and the knowledge he’d never again be able to trust the people around him as he once had. He cried until there was nothing left to cry about.
After a while, the tears began to dry. The emotional wounds scabbed back over. He’d never felt so tired or heavy in all his life as he did right then. His chest still ached, his head still throbbed, and he still felt like a single, unintentional blow was going to leave him absolutely shattered, but at the very center of it, there was a piece of calm that hadn’t existed before. Or maybe it had and he’d just been too preoccupied to ever notice it. Regardless of when it had really come into existence, it was there now, solid enough to be nearly tangible. And it was so warm… How long had it been since he was this kind of warm?
“Sorry,” he mumbled, shifting so that the other wouldn’t be so bend out of shape. Daxter conformed to the new position just as readily as he had the last, strong yet supple in all the ways that mattered. “You didn’t need that.”
“But you’ve needed to do that for a while,” was the dismissive reply. “Least ya did it here rather than out there. ‘Sides, it’s not like these clothes won’t need to be burned after all this anyway. An’ what’s a little mucus between friends?”
“That doesn’t mean I should dump it on you.”
“Yeah, well, cryin’ is a bit like pukin’ for the soul. Gettin’ that far sure as hell ain’t pretty, but ya feel better for it in the end. As long as ya feel better, it’s worth it.”
Despite everything, Jak found himself chuckling. “Thanks. That makes me feel so much better,” he said sarcastically. He could feel Daxter grinning. Jak just shook his head and hugged the redhead tighter.
They held onto one another long after the calm absorbed them both, simply enjoying the rare moment of silence and the comfort of the other’s arms. It was only after a great length of time that Jak moved, finally feeling brave enough to actually face the world. Daxter seemed equally reluctant to let go, but allowed him to pull away. There were tear tracks on his own reddened cheeks that Jak found himself brushing away. It earned him a warm if not somewhat watery smile in return. He looked as tired and beat up as the blond felt. That alone decided Jak’s next course of action.
Daxter squeaked a bit when he was roughly pulled into a kiss, although he was almost instantly pressing back with an enthusiasm that bordered on the frantic. Their first real kiss in a week was desperate and relieved and slightly wet. Not even the need for air was enough for them to break apart for more than a second’s gasp. Suddenly, Jak was the one doing the supporting. He lifted the other without a second thought, driving their mouths together just that much harder, trying to convey too much through action alone. But he couldn’t stop, either, not when he could feel the need Daxter had pulling at him, buried deep under so many other bruises and hurts.
“I love you.” A breathless whisper, barely words at all in the physical world. The body in his arms still jerked, their kiss breaking completely with a sharp gasp. Daxter stared at him with wide, uncertain eyes, panting and trembling.
“Jak—”
“I love you,” he repeated, both his voice and his conviction stronger, accenting the phrase with another kiss. “I love you so much. I think I always have. I just—” Fingers across his lips stilled the almost panicked spill.
“Words were never yer strong suit.” The tone was teasing, but the smile was pure happiness. “But I’m glad ya finally found ‘em.”
The kiss Daxter gave him in turn was so gentle, it hurt. That warmth in Jak’s chest flared, bright and beautiful as it unfurled, nearly the same as the light he’d seen in the redhead for so long now. And just as it had connected and completed something then, so it did the same now, twining through the dark without disrupting it, sealing the cracks that had once threatened to tear him apart.
Finally, everything settled and they pulled back. Daxter yawned so cutely, his eyes noticeably starting to droop, and then flushed when Jak chuckled. “What?” he demanded.
The blond just shook his head, carrying them over to where Widgit had yet to stir from. He felt just as tired, all the strain that had lead up to this moment no longer there to keep them going. While Daxter fussed with creating a comfortable spot, Jak made one last check of the door and extinguished the candles. They curled up side-by-side much like they had in the beginning, only this time Jak readily pulled Daxter close, that fall of golden red hair coming to rest naturally on his shoulder as sleep claimed another body.
The fingers that treaded through the sunset coloured strands were quite normal, though they showed the same care their edged counterparts had. Daxter made a soft noise of contentment that brought a smile much softer than the normal reckless grin those lips usually wore. The fangs were still ready to be bared, the horns and claws and the endless black power he possessed always ready to be unleashed in the defense of what was his, but it was all content to stay drifting in the background, passive and pliant under the gently radiant glow of light the suffused all things now. He was still held together, all the important pieces at least, by that voice that had never truly left him. And now there was a body attached to that voice, and a heart, and a light that loved him as no other could and that he desperately loved back.
Braced and encircled by that, Jak couldn’t find it in him to care about anything else.
***
I’ll protect you—this is war

We don’t have time to choose a way

To show you how our love is different

I’ll defend you to the end.

Prepare for the final attack

There’s no end to this battle yet

Love is war

Until this song reaches you.
~Ai wa Sensou (KAITO Ver.) – Vocaloid~
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To be concluded.
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- 11
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Love is War