#let Jak be the annoying big brother sometimes he's earned it

[radioactivepeasant]

Snippet Thursday, Week Two: Blackmail Au

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Kleiver stormed out of the hold of the air train, dragging the boy by the collar. He was fighting every step of the way, but Kleiver far outclassed him for height and weight. Jak's feet kicked and scrambled for purchase in the dusty mesa top. Damas tensed. What was the idiot doing? Jak barely trusted him as it was!

"Kleiver!" Damas hurried out of the temple courtyard, one hand already outstretched as if to pry the man's hand free. "Let him go!"

Kleiver swung his arm, sending the skinny teen careening into Damas’s chest. Hastily, Damas caught Jak and pushed the boy behind him.

"What do you think you're doing?" he demanded.

"I told you I ain't no babysitter!" Kleiver growled, "Do you know what this stupid ankle-biter did?! Risked blowing the entire operation!"

"It worked, didn't it?" Jak snapped. He straightened out his tunic and bared his teeth.

Kleiver pointed a thick finger at the boy, who puffed out his chest as if trying to make himself look bigger and more intimidating.

"Volcan help me, lordship, but if I have to chase after your whelp in Haven again, he's comin' back in irons."

"You're gonna lose some fingers if you even try," Jak retorted.

"Enough." Damas turned slightly, keeping himself between them. "Kleiver, did you complete your mission?"

The mechanic sneered. "Aye. The ol' gangster's provided a thoughtful banquet for the sharks."

"Good." Damas nodded sharply. "I'll have Elgar choose a Gila to take his place in the food chain. You may return to Spargus."

As Kleiver started to go, Damas cleared his throat.

"And Kleiver? I would hope that my Wastelanders know not to grab a viper by the tail and expect not to be bitten."

"Sire?"

Damas raised an eyebrow and muffled an amused smirk. "If you put your hands on the boy again, I'm not going to stop him from defending himself."

Kleiver nodded a grudging assent and leveled an irate look at Jak. He stalked back to the air train, passing a bewildered Sig with a small bundle in his arms.

Damas’s heart lodged in his throat. The name died on his lips in a voiceless whisper. Did he dare hope?

Sig met his gaze with tears glittering in his eye. He nodded once, then set the bundle down. Out of an oversized jacket -- Jak's, Damas realized after a moment -- a little brown face appeared, haloed by curls as green as cactus. He looked around him with wide eyes, and Damas's heart ached. Mar had never been to the monastery. He'd been far too young. How strange it all must seem to him! Then Mar noticed him, and his breath froze in his lungs.

The tiny boy squinted against the glare of the sun, and then let out an almighty shriek.

Bare feet smacked against rock as Mar pelted towards him. He slammed into Damas’s knees and flung his arms around his legs. With a choking sob, Damas collapsed. He pulled his son into his arms and rocked back and forth. It took all his strength not to weep uncontrollably. He kissed Mar's forehead and then pressed his fist to his mouth, vainly trying to stifle the tears.

Mar's little brow wrinkled and he began to look upset. "Daddy, you're cryin!"

He squirmed to make his signs visible.

"Why are you sad?"

Unable to think straight, Damas said the first thing that came to his mind.

"I missed your birthday, twice! And- and I missed all of your brother's birthdays!"

Mouth forming a perfect little "o", Mar looked to Jak for confirmation. When the older boy only shrugged, Mar gasped.

"That is sad! Jakky didn't get any presents?!"

Jak bit his tongue before he could say 'I got tied to a chair and pumped full of dark eco for my last two birthdays.' Mar would never know what the Dark Warrior Program was, not if Jak had anything to say about it.

"We hafta get Jak a present!" Mar decided, "Then you won't be sad anymore! How much money you got?"

Jak burst out laughing behind them.

He sat cross-legged on the ground with a thump, waiting for Daxter to bring the dog down from the transport. He was beginning to suspect that he knew how the animal would respond to his so-called parent. Chopper had certainly been excited to see Sig. If Damas also got the dog's seal of approval, then maybe Jak could relax a little. Think of these men like Torn or Vin, perhaps.

Jak picked up a pebble and rolled it across the tops of his fingers.

"So...you remember this guy?" he asked his baby brother.

"Yah!" Mar nodded firmly. "That's Daddy! See? I 'membered. I'm not a baby!"

Jak scoffed. "Yeah you are."

"Not!"

"A tiiiiny baby."

"No I'm not!"

A mischievous smirk tugged the corner of Jak's mouth.

"100% baby."

"No!!" Mar yelped. He crossed his arms and huffed, turning his face away from Jak haughtily.

"In a manner of speaking, he's correct," Damas croaked, wiping his eyes. "You've gotten very tall, Mar. But you'll always be my baby."

"See? Told ya." Mischief sparkled in Jak’s eyes.

Mar scowled. "I don't wanna be a baby! I'm gonna get as big as Jakky! Ba said I could!"

Just as quickly as it had come, Mar's ire subsided as he thought of a new question.

"Is my blankie clean?"

Damas blinked. "What?"

"My blankie!" Mar insisted, "Remember? You said? You said you'd wash it and then the bad guy came in the house?"

Damas was thunderstruck. Mar remembered that? He shoved aside the dismal thought of the toddler missing his favorite blanket for two long years and cuddled his son closer.

"Yes, Daddy washed your star blanket," he said after clearing his throat. "It's- It's right on your bed, waiting for you to come home."

Jak winced beside them. He couldn't imagine someone waiting for him to come home. Had his "uncle" even lived long enough to realize he and Daxter hadn't come back? Had anyone held onto his bug collection, just in case he ever wandered back into the village? He doubted it.

Idly, painfully, he wondered if that Osmo guy held onto Daxter's stuff, hoping he'd come back to them.

Loud barking heralded the arrival of both Daxter and the crocadog. It bounded down the ramp in pursuit of a fly, with the ottsel hanging onto its back for dear life. Daxter just managed to steer it by the collar away from the edge of the mesa and toward Jak.

"Grab him before he flings me to my death!" Daxter screeched.

Jak whistled once and opened his arms. "C'mere, boy!"

The puppy yapped and leaped for the boy, skidding into his arms with scrabbling legs when it failed to stop. With a yelp, Daxter catapulted off his back and onto Jak's shoulder where he crouched with bristling fur. Immediately, Chopper planted his front paws on Jak’s chest and yipped before licking his face. Jak laughed and leaned back.

"Blech! Chopper! No baths!"

He scooped the puppy up and held him like a baby.

"Crazy dog."

Damas’s eyes moistened again, seeing his older son smile down at the crocadog. There was still a young boy in there, under all the pain and anger. There was still an inner child peering out, and Damas was resolved to gain that child's trust.

The pup sniffed the air and wriggled until Jak pushed him into a sitting position. Cocking his head, he sniffed at the man holding Short Master and began to paw at him. Who was this Big Spiky Man? He smelled like Short Master and Tall Master! Did he, perhaps, have Treats? Treats for a Very Good Boy?

He did!

Damas cracked a smile as Chopper began whining and pawing at the small satchel at his waist. He must have smelled the dried meat and fruit Damas usually carried whenever he left the city.

Well, the pup was no bird, certainly, but he was cute.

"Alright, alright," Damas sighed and dug in the satchel to find a bit of dried caprid. "Only if you've been good, little one."

"He's always good!" Jak said indignantly. "That's the whole point of dogs!"

Daxter narrowed his eyes at Jak. "That mutt has never been to obedience school a day in his life."

"So? Neither have I," Jak scoffed. "He doesn't need it! Right, Chop?"

Chopper proceeded to all but unhinge his jaw in an effort to eat the entire ration bag.

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