#<- my fic tag ig ailurghaliurgh

[sparguscityangel]

and i’m used to that (but i can get used to this)

I got hit with some Jak/Keira feels recently and I had to write something short and fluffy about my kids ;u; I might upload this to AO3 too, I haven’t decided yet so I’ll post it here. Rated G for because they’re kids and I wanted to write some wholesome teen friendly romance.

Warning: Mentions of physical abuse from Jak’s time in prison.

Title is from Monster by Olivia Olson from Adventure Time: Distant Lands - Obsidian. This whole fic is inspired by that song, it was hard picking which lyric to put aurhgaliurhgaerg

Enjoy!

Rain in Sandover was always cause for melancholy for Keira. It meant staring out her window with her chin in hand and watching the water pour over the village in fat drops. It meant the stench of wet yakkow wafting from the east and soggy straw threatening to collapse above their heads. It meant being unable to meet up with Jak and Daxter as they were forced by their guardians to hunker down indoors. Rain brought depression and loneliness to the village, groans and moans as the denizens scrambled to figure out how to avoid the water from flooding their homes despite the barrier of sand bags plopped at every entrance. Keira always felt the loneliest during those days. It helped having books and inventions to tinker with on rainy days, but it was nothing compared to running barefoot on the beach as the sun bestowed more freckles on her shoulders. 

In the last two years, Keira has grown used to the ache in her chest when she thought of all the times she didn’t appreciate Sandover to the fullest capacity, but sitting in her apartment with a hot mug in hand and looking out at the neon lights of Haven reflecting off the rain, she supposes nothing really changes. Not completely anyway. Not without retaining at least something of what once was, a ghost of the past that never really goes away nor would she want it to. 

She has a hard time with that, doesn’t she? Change. Everything changed so quickly, she’d barely allowed time to get her bearings before the next shift began and she’s planted again at square one. It happens so suddenly, too. Abruptly and violently, like a balloon popping if left out in the sun for far too long. There’s no warning that it’s about to happen, and you are barely able to move out of the way before … POP. She thinks of all the people she never got to say goodbye to, all the artifacts and technology that were lost once more to the passage of time, to Chompers the plant that withered away to nothingness in her father’s hut as it awaited a caregiver who never returned. She tries not to think about it.

Keira took a sip of her tea. It was lukewarm now, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care. The warmth of the mug brought the feeling back into her fingers, so it served its purpose in the end. Despite the warmth combating the chill in her bones, Keira couldn’t find it in herself to go to bed just yet. She knew it was late, and she’d have to get up early in the morning to head back to the garage, but she felt unusually alert. The city, thought active and bright, felt sleepy all around her. She leaned her head against the frame of her window, debating on whether to close the open orifice, when something down below in the street caught her eye. 

It moved slowly toward the entrance of the building, casting glances over his shoulder whenever the clanking of armor against armor drew too loud. His head was wrapped with a scarlet scarf, only his darting eyes visible, and his hands were tucked into the pockets of a racing jacket, but Keira would recognize him anywhere. She’d probably recognize him by touch alone if she had too, and then she chastised herself for lying so blatantly even to herself. Precursors, she didn’t even recognize him when he was a shadowed silhouette on her curtain, how could she recognize him by touch alone? 

Her intercom buzzed loudly in the quiet apartment, and Keira startled. It was rare that she had a visitor, the sound of her own intercom foreign despite living here for a year and a half. Perhaps, it was also in part that she hadn’t spoken to Jak in over a month, not since he stormed out of her garage after the Class 2 race. She stood up on the second buzz, padding from the window seat straight to her intercom and pressing the button to answer. She held her finger there for a full minute, listening intently to Jak’s breathing on the other end as she willed herself to swallow her pride and speak first. 

“Hello?”

“Hi,”

“Hi,” A beat. “Want to come up?”

“Yeah,” 

Less than ten words exchanged between them before Jak was inside Keira’s apartment, dripping rainwater onto her rug and staring at the pattern under his boots like it was the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen. Keira didn’t say anything. Her heart pounded in her throat, anxiety making her mouth feel like cotton. All she could really do was stand opposite of Jak, both avoiding looking at the other. A game of chicken where the first one to speak would lose, only this time it was more serious than trying to shove the other off shoulders and laughing as they splashed wildly in the water. 

The drops rolling off Jak were soaking her rug, though, and Keira really liked that rug. Damn it. “You’re soaked,” she sighed, “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t flood my apartment,” 

Jak raised an eyebrow at her, confusion twisting his face in the darkness before a soft, “Oh,” rolled out of him and he snapped to action to remove his jacket. He toed off the boots as he did so, dropping an inch or two in height. The apartment was dark — the only source of light coming from the neon from the window and the passing of headlights that swept across her furniture like searchlights, but even with limited visibility, she could see the way his tunic stuck to his skin. There was little doubt that the garment was thoroughly soaked. Why wasn’t he taking it off? He was going to catch his death if he kept it on. It wasn’t like her apartment was awfully warm, and even through her thick cardigan, she could feel the late autumn night. 

She raised an eyebrow at him, then subsequently blushed when he cleared his throat. Oh, right. Keira cleared her throat. “I’ll, uh … I’ll go see if there’s … um, sorry, the bathroom is right there, help yourself, I’ll just … yeah,” she stammered off, caught between running to her room to bury her face into a pillow with the loudest scream she could muster or jumping out the window with a running start. Thankfully, Jak nearly bolted for the bathroom with a curt nod and she didn’t have to marinate in the awkwardness for long. Once the door closed with a click, she dropped her head in her hands harder than necessary. 

It used to be so easy to talk to her best friend. The conversations always flowed so naturally, an endless stream of consciousness about her latest idea and Jak’s newest addition to his bug collection. Somewhere around the time she turned eleven, it was enough just to lay next to him on the dock near the Fisherman’s house and watch the clouds morph over them until the sky grew orange and the dying sun would turn the blue of Jak’s eyes into something akin to honey toned. The first time she noticed it, her breath caught in her throat and her fingers itched to etch the image on paper. It was then she realized that Jak wasn’t just her friend, not like he was an hour prior, but someone else. Her childish brain conflated him alongside the awe of stepping into the Precursor Temple in the Jungle, and she has had trouble separating him from the grandiose mosaics of the Precursors ever since. 

It broke her heart when she saw him under the fluorescent lights of the garage and the only word that came to mind was sick. He looked sick. From the pale pallor of his skin to dull irises that seemed to avoid soaking in the light. Everything about him was just … wrong. It was meeting a stranger, another Havenite who walked the streets of the city like reanimated corpses that would continue to wander until they succumbed to their own decay. She wondered if this is how it felt to renounce one’s faith, then she laughed at herself because she would know the feeling well. No Precursor who was benevolent would ever sentence two close friends to this. 

She snapped back to the present when the bright high beams of a patrol zoomer blinded her, casting shadows and the monsters that lurked within them over the walls of her apartment. She shoved the past down, and tuned into the present where she was standing in her home, holding dry clothes in her arms. The bathroom door opened a crack and darted toward it quickly, holding the bundle of clothing out in front of her for the other teen to take. “Here. Put these on,” she immediately noticed his eyes widen slightly at the pants, and before he could draw any conclusions, she blurted out, “They’re some generic racing uniform the stadium gives every team that competes. I always tell myself I’m going to donate them, but I keep forgetting. The sweater is mine,”

“Thanks,” he replied, taking the sweater and pants slowly. It was as if he was afraid that the wrong movement would shatter the clothes like glass, that Keira herself would snatch them away from him. When his hand felt the soft fuzz of her favorite sweater, however, she watched as his hand lingered for a moment. Still as the dead, Jak’s fingers twitched and smoothed over the sage tendrils of fluff. He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but instead of words, he nodded and shut the door. She tried not to take it personally and retreated to her window seat, leaning back against the wall. 

Jak clambered around in the bathroom, no doubt knocking over a few toiletries into the sink. She could hear what sounded like her bar of soap slide in the porcelain basin. How can someone so skilled in fighting discipline be so horrible at moving around an enclosed space, she’ll never know. Jak emerged a few moments later, and lingered around the doorway. He looked ridiculous, and she wanted to tell him so, but the sweater hung off his frame more than she thought it would and the pants were meant for an adult man at least a foot taller than him and all she could think about was how small he looked. She swallowed thickly, clearing her throat to get his attention. 

He just stared. 

“You know I don’t bite, right?” Keira patted the cushion next to her. He still didn’t move, and she was close to tears then. How did it get so messed up between them? What happened to them where just the idea of being near the other was enough of an issue to cause pause and reflection?

In the neon light, Jak’s face was visible for the first time since he stepped foot in the apartment. His cheek was bruised with nauseating yellow and sharp purple, and his lip was scabbed from a cut. The injured looked a few days old, and it didn’t take a genius to notice how the map of destruction was about the same length as the butt of a Krimzon Guard stun baton. His hair was still wet from his trek in the rain, but the ends started to curl in loose ringlets and waves around his shoulders as it dried. Eventually, the golden boy of Sandover sighed heavily and sank down next to her, keeping his eyes trained on the ground between his bare feet. 

Though his back was to the open window, Keira could still make out the set of his jaw, frown lines permanently etched into his face. Despite it all, he was still a sight for sore eyes, and one she missed more than she realized until now. 

“No Daxter?” she asked, testing the waters between them. Jak shrugged a shoulder, his elbows no doubt digging painfully into his thighs as he leaned forward. 

“He’s with Tess,” he said flatly, “Something about date night. I don’t know, I didn’t really ask,”

Keira nodded and hummed in understanding, though she knew she was stalling on what she really wanted to ask. She bit her lip, worrying it between her teeth before the curiosity overwhelmed her. “So I’m what? Your last resort?” 

Another shrug. “I didn’t really have anywhere else to go. I was going for a walk and then I ended up here, so I figured …” he tensed, wound up like a spring loaded toy that was ready to pop at any given moment. He sighed, but his shoulders remained hunched. “Forget it. Thanks for the dry clothes. I’ll just get out of your hair,” Jak moved to get up, but Keira has known him longer than anyone, and her hand darted out to tug at his sleeve. He paused halfway, turning his attention to her hand. 

“Don’t go,” she swallowed, “It’s pouring outside. Just stay here,” 

“Keira …” 

“Please? I missed you,”That seemed to have struck a chord with him. His body deflated, letting her guide him back to the cushion they were sharing only moments before. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it … like that. I just thought you didn’t want to see me after … you know,”

Jak was always a terrible liar. He couldn’t keep a secret to save his life, and although he could get away with batting his eyes and smiling slyly at the adults, there was only so much he could feign. It was evident when he cleared his throat, obviously trying to hide the way he had a visible reaction to her bringing up their argument in the garage. 

It was nasty. That’s the only word she can think of to encapsulate the entire interaction. It was nasty, and she felt grimy every time she found herself replaying the conversation in her mind like an echo chamber of her Top Five Most Embarrassing Moments. Jak must’ve felt the same, because he leaned back until the back of his head to meet the vertical metal slats of her window. 

“It’s fine,” he muttered, but he wouldn’t look at her. He hasn’t looked at her since he arrived, and it shattered her heart. Never in a million years did she ever think there would be a time where they were sitting so close to each other, yet still miles apart. 

“No, it’s not,” She shook her head, moving to place a hand on his shoulder, but he dodged the touch like it was a branding. She deserved that. She folded her hands back into her lap, picking at her cuticles as she searched for the right words. It was nearly impossible to figure out how to start, but she owed it to Jak to at least explain her actions. He was entitled to that. “I hurt you. I wish I could say that I didn’t mean to, but I don’t want to lie to you. In the moment, yeah, I wanted to hurt you for … I don’t know. I was hurting, and I guess I didn’t want to be the only one,” she heard Jak scoff under his breath, and at any other time, it would’ve made her fly off the handle, but this time she scoffed alongside him. “Point is, I shouldn’t have treated you like you were some kind of thug. We all have to do some pretty crappy things to survive, and if working for Krew helps you and Daxter stay afloat, it’s really not my place to belittle you for that,” 

Jak ran his hand through his hair, bushing back the long strands that fell over his face. It was then she realized that he was completely dressed down. His goggles were gone, and his faithful right pauldron was nowhere to be found. There was nothing hard about him, nothing to shield him. Jak was completely vulnerable in front of her. She dug her thumb into her palm, pressing her nail deep to avoid reaching out to see if the invisible barrier between them was still in place. 

“It wasn’t really the Krew stuff that upset me,” Jak started, hesitant and shaky, “I’ve made my peace with being a hired gun. It’s not like I have much of a choice, but I do wish you let me explain,” he swallowed, “It … Keira, Erol is bad news. I should’ve explained myself, but whenever he’s around, I can’t … think straight. Everything gets hazy and my chest feels tight. I was terrified when I saw him in your garage. You have no idea what he’s capable of,” 

Keira took a deep breath. She figured it would come back to Erol one way or another. It was strange having two men she was attracted to pointing fingers at the other, spewing slander of the other and then asking her to make a decision on their character from hearsay alone. What she knew for certain was that one was lying and one was telling the truth. “I know he’s the Commander of the Krimzon Guard. I know he helped me a lot those few months I was in Haven. I had nowhere to go, I don’t know what had happened to you and Daxter and daddy. All I knew was that I was alone and scared and cold and hungry and Erol was there for me,” Jak nodded, but Keira could tell he was elsewhere right now. She pressed on, “I also know he hurt you,” He snapped to look at her, and if it wasn’t for the circumstance, she thinks her heart might’ve melted. He was woefully beautiful, like a doomed prince in a tragedy. All pain and sorrow intersected with the holy burden of being so appealing that makes onlookers refuse to look away. Her mouth dried up and she had to swallow. “Daxter mentioned the Baron and eco … at first I didn’t really register it until Erol came by the garage after you left and told me about you,”

“What did he say?” “That you were dangerous. I don’t think he knows we grew up together because he just went on and on about how you were arrested for kicking crocapuppies or something equally as stupid. He said he tried to … rehabilitate you, but you were too evil to change. I thought, ‘He can’t be talking about the same Jak. Whoever he was describing sounded like a villain in a fairytale.’” She chuckled humorlessly. “I’m not going to apologize for trusting him. But I am sorry for trusting him more than I trusted you,” 

Jak pursed his lips. He was concentrating hard at the spot near Keira’s ear, on the wall behind her. She almost turned to look, but his eyes slid back into focus and they darted to look into hers. Chills ran down her spine. “Rehabilitate. Fucking bullshit,” he smirked, but Keira noticed it was off. His canines were too sharp, his smile didn’t reach his eyes, and it looked more like he was baring his teeth. Her heart seized a bit, but not in a bad way. Her cheeks grew warm and her palms sweaty, and she had to look away from him. “He made my life a living hell for two years. Still is. I can’t go a single day without seeing his ugly mug plastered somewhere and reliving the shit he put me thought,” 

Keira opened her mouth, but the tremors in his hands told her that this needed to happen. He needed to get this off his chest, and if he needed her to be the one he offloaded this too, she’ll gladly accept it. It felt good being near him again. If he wanted her to sit while he screamed at the stars and waged holy war with the Precursors, then she'd sprout roots and dig far deep into the earth. She folded her legs in front of her and laid her chin in her palm, keeping her face neutral as Jak grit his teeth. “It wasn’t enough that they’d pump me full of dark eco for him. He wanted to watch them do it. He’d stand there and watch them strap me down and he’d flip the damn switch to the Halo. And when that novelty wore off, that’s when he’d drag me into The Room,” he paused, Adam’s apple bobbing as he chewed on his words carefully. When he started again, it was slower, more calculated. “He beat me. Every single day for two years, he’d use me as his own sadistic plaything. I knew he wanted me to beg him to stop, but I wasn’t going to give him that satisfaction. I’d rather he kill me than to ever give him what he wanted. I told myself that I wasn’t going to let him change me, that he couldn’t take who I was away from me, but every time that door closed I lost parts of me that I’ll never get back,” he blinked, “Seeing him in your garage … I thought he did something to you. I thought he found out about you somehow and hurt you. Then you said he was the best racer you’ve ever seen and something in me just … broke. He broke me, but you, Keira? You made me unfixable,” 

Keira couldn’t argue with that. What can she say? She couldn’t deny Jak that feeling of betrayal. He’s been denied so much as it was already, she wasn’t going to be the one to invalidate those feelings. She couldn’t scream and cry like a victim, twist the situation so that Jak was in the wrong because he wasn’t. She should’ve trusted him from the beginning, and cut ties with Erol the moment he even mentioned that he was someone who couldn’t be trusted. A part of her wanted to pipe up that she didn’t know about Erol’s cruelty, but the other part of her knew that was a lie. She hadn’t seen it first hand, but she heard the way he spoke to his racing rivals. The way he’d seethe and demand rematches whenever someone beat his score, the amount of times something heavy got flung in the general direction of a cocky racer that rubbed Erol the wrong way. She saw the bloody knuckles and wild look in his eyes, and because she was too scared to lose her only friend and reliable client, she looked the other way. She was no better than Erol, who stood by and watched as her best friend was tortured within an inch of his life. 

No words came to mind. There was no way she could remedy this quickly enough, but Jak’s hand was shaking violently and curled up so tight that she could see the veins and tendons jump out. It looked painful. She didn’t want him to hurt anymore. 

She laid her hand over his, telegraphing the movement slowly. When Jak didn’t flinch away again, she took the fist in both hands. He was cold to the touch. She wondered if her hands felt like a branding against his own, a mark of the Baron’s crest on the inside of his wrist telling her that he must know the feeling all too well. She dug her fingers into where his own met his palm, releasing his grip. Crescent moon indents formed a line in the middle, and she rubbed her thumbs in unison against them until they faded away to nothing. He was real in her hands. There was flesh, and blood, and bone, and a heartbeat, and life. He was right here, right next to her in her apartment, and he was real. Her ghost had returned to her alive. 

She held his hand in hers. She was in her apartment in Main Town, she was sitting on a cliff on her fourteenth birthday, she was standing on the top of a Citadel — she was participating that was happening at different points of her life in the past and each time she held Jak’s hand, it felt like the very first time. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, “I’m sorry. I’ll never stop apologizing, not even if you decide to forgive me. And I’m sorry, but that’s so not true,” Jak stilled, his hand twitched in hers and she knew he was going to try and pull away, but she squeezed his even tighter to keep him put. “You’re not broken. You’re here, completely intact, with me. There’s nothing to fix,” 

“You don’t know that,” he said, “I’m not that kid you grew up with anymore. He died in prison, Keira. I’m just what’s left of him,” 

Keira looked down at their hands. “I don’t believe that. I think you’re still you, just … different. Even if we didn’t go through the Rift, you weren’t going to stay fifteen forever. That’s just not practical. Scientifically speaking, we’re constantly evolving. We mature, we regress, we grow up. It’s not fair to yourself to expect to stay the same when it’s natural to not even be the same person we were a month ago. And yet …” she traced his nail beds with her other hand, and smiled when she made out the scar on his middle finger from when Jak tried to pet a wild Lurkerpuppy. “See this?” she held their hands up, “This is still you. This is the same hand you used to bring the Sculptor’s muse back to him. Your bones, your eyes, your feet, your heart — they’re still all here. Despite everything, you’re still you,” 

“I can’t be what you want me to be,” 

“I won’t want you to be anything,” Keira spat, twisting her face in mock disgust. “Did I like you when you were fifteen and non-verbal? Yeah. Do I like you now that you’re seventeen and a bad boy? Hell yeah,” 

Jak chuckled, and when Keira looked up, she found him smiling at her. A genuine one. Not the strained one he gives out at racing matches or the baring of teeth he does when Krew calls him. This was the smile that made her first realize that she would do unspeakably embarrassing things to see more of. It was all teeth and sunshine. “You like me, huh?” 

“If you’re just figuring that out now, then you’re either the most oblivious guy on the planet or you’re tied with Daxter for the most gullible,” 

“I can’t give you what you want, you know,” he muttered, “I’m not ready for that,” 

Keira nodded. There was still so much to work on between them. Tonight they were able to pluck off enough bricks from the wall that separated them to see the other, but there were still many more to go. It’ll be exhausting, and they’ll be covered in dust and sweat, but at least they would be dismantling it rather than building onto it. Sometimes, that’s all one can really hope for. And that was enough for her. “You know what I want right now?” she asked, and when Jak shook his head, she answered it for him, “I want to be a kid,” 

“You just had a whole speech about not being kids anymore,”

“No, no. I just had a whole speech about not staying kids anymore. I want us to be kids. Precursors, Jak, we’re teenagers,”

“I’d make the argument that I’m mentally at least thirty years old at this point,”

“That’s the first joke I’ve ever heard you make and it’s not even funny,” she groaned, hearing her friend laugh, “I’m serious! We went from being barefoot kids and straight to adulthood. We didn’t even get the chance to be our own age,” 

“Okay, how do you suggest we do that? What do teenagers even do?” Jak frowned as he thought of his own question. It was a good question. Keira didn’t even know what she meant by ‘being a teenager’ but she knew it meant being carefree. She knew it was a pinnacle age where the fancies of childhood and the pains of adulthood intersected. She knew that she, Jak, Tess, and Daxter all apparently skipped that transition altogether and headed straight for becoming a young adult. Teenagers weren’t supposed to have their own apartments yet, nor were they supposed to be running around the city doing errands for a known crime boss. They were supposed to be doing something stupid. Looking out the window, Keira was instantly struck with the perfect idea. 

“Come on,” she smiled, leaping off the bench and pulling the hero toward the front door. Jak followed suit, his eyebrow raised in quiet suspicion. He didn’t say anything until they were running down the stairs of the complex, barefeet echoing loudly in the corridors as Keira practically sprinted for the entrance. 

“Where are we going?” he asked quietly, the question dissipating the moment Keira pushed the heavy door open. The rain hadn’t let up at all since Jak first arrived, pouring various waterfalls from atop the awning above the door. The two teens stood under it, holding hands and gazing up at the dark rain clouds overhead. The neon lights of the city were fuzzy and bright in contract, reflecting off the puddles on the street by their feet. Keira smiled up at Jak, a mischievous glint in her eyes. She didn’t have to say it. They’ve known each other since they were old enough to remember, they could read the other like a book. Everything and anything the other wanted to know was there for the taking. 

Keira didn’t give a warning other than a hand squeeze before she was yanking the blond teen toward the open road. The city had officially gone to sleep, and they were claiming it for themselves as the inhabitants dreamed. The rain pelted down on her head, soaking her hair and sticking her cardigan to her skin. She let go of Jak’s hand, throwing her hands to the rain and basked in the storm. She goes back to egg Jak to dance with her, not caring that her movements aren’t the most fluid and there was no music to get the rhythm of. She jumped and waved her arms and swayed her hips and laughed when her best friend joined her, pulling her close. 

In a couple hours, the Krimzon Guard would be back on patrol and Jak would leave her apartment before daybreak to avoid being recognized. In a week from now, Keira would be standing on a zeppelin next to the Rift Rider she’s been working on for years as she watched her best friend shrink in the distance, praying to Gods she no longer believed in that this won’t be the final time she sees him. A year and a half from now, they’ll meet again with a magnetic barrier between them, realizing that they had officially crossed the threshold into adulthood without the other and be torn apart again in a bittersweet reunion where Keira will realize that Jak belonged out in the Wasteland with his new family. She won’t be there when Jak discovers he’s the lost heir to the city, nor will she be there as he breaks apart holding his father’s dead body in his arms. He won’t be there when Keira is put on trial for her involvement in aiding a banished man reenter the city nor will he be there when she finally severs all ties to her father after his transgressions come to light. They’ll be torn apart and reunited over and over again until the sun explodes in the sky and engulfs the planet into flames. They’ll still fight, and they’ll still hold grudges, and they’ll go to bed angry at the other. 

When it would rain, from now on, Keira would think of this moment, and of them, and feel nothing but love and happiness. This precious moment that will remain perfect and untouched in time forever. A moment where Jak and Keira dance without abandon in the rain, pretending they are the only two people left with a whole city at their fingertips. Keira will throw her head back to laugh, and Jak’s hand will be pressed against her back. He’ll hold her hand high above his head and she’ll twirl, wet hair sticking to her face and neck as she almost slips on the wet concrete. Jak’s eyes will glow an electrifying blue in the neon lights and lightning, and Keira will realize that she liked it almost more than she liked the golden blue. 

For now, they were young and in love, and that was enough for them.