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Night fell on Haven city and the citizens were quick to make for their homes.
Even the rebels were settling down for the night, some settling into the bunks at headquarters rather than going to their homes on the other side of the city, or because they lacked homes at all.
Torn himself was just about ready to join his comrades in settling down for the night, maybe finally getting some sleep, but he didn’t want to leave his current plan unfinished. So, rest would have to wait a little longer.
Without looking up from the city map, Torn placed his hand on top of a small head as it tried to move past him, turning the Kid back towards the bunk that had been set up for him.
Big eyes looked up at Torn but were completely ignored save for a nudge towards the bunk.
Responsibility for the Kid was often passed around the Underground, and tonight it was Torn’s turn, Kor apparently having some unknown important matter that kept him from his usual duty.
And unfortunately for those at headquarters, the Kid refused to settle, wandering around the building, disturbing those trying to get their rest, and even almost escaping a few times.
Torn was beginning to wonder if it’d be worth the risk and an acceptable use of the Underground’s pitiful funds to hire a trained nanny to look after the kid full time.
The Kid was once again investigating the door to the outside when it abruptly opened.
“Grab the Kid!” Torn ordered at whoever opened the door.
It turned out to be Jak, who thankfully noticed the Kid before he could make any attempt to go outside, holding him in place until the door shut again.
The Kid didn’t pout like the last time his escape had been foiled, instead smiling up at Jak and waving.
For reasons that no one in the Underground could understand, the Kid like both Jak and the talking animal on his shoulder, not finding the angry teen scary in the least.
After hesitantly greeting the Kid, Jak walked over to Torn.
“You got any other-”
“Hey! No!” Daxter interrupted his friend. “We are NOT doing anymore stupid missions! It is the middle of the night! And in your state, you’d get me killed!”
There were, in fact, a few things that Torn could have Jak do. There was always something to do despite the teen’s efforts having whittled down that list since joining the Underground.
But, as much as it pained Torn to agree with the annoying rodent, Jak did not look like he was in any state to do a mission, clearly exhausted and running on a combination of fumes and sheer stubbornness. It wasn’t an unusual sight; over the short time of knowing the teen, Torn had learned that Jak liked to keep himself busy until he dropped from exhaustion.
“I haven’t got anything for you.” Torn lied.
In Jak’s current state, he’d likely mess up any mission given to him anyway.
Jak scowled in annoyance.
“Now what do I do?” He huffed.
“Well, I don’t know.” Daxter said sarcastically. “How about sleep, for one?”
“You know where the beds are.” Torn said as a form of agreement.
Not that Jak ever used them, the teen preferring to find some isolated nook if he ever slept at the hideout.
Jak rolled his eyes but seemed to accept defeat. First using the washing facilities at Daxter’s loud insistence that his friend smelt like the sewer, and then settling on one of the bunks, again at the ottsel’s badgering that his friend use an actual bed to sleep.
Once Jak had sat down on his chosen bunk, the Kid was quick to go over to him, once again waving.
“Hey, Kid.” Jak greeted with a small smile.
The Kid threw himself onto Jak’s bed, scrambling up the side until he finally succeeded.
“Good job.” Jak praised the Kid’s efforts, making him smile.
“If you want something to do, watch the Kid and get him settled.” Torn ordered as the idea occurred to him.
“Do we look like babysitters?” Daxter protested. “Why isn’t Kor looking after him?”
“None of your business.” Torn responded. “Everyone here takes their turn watching the Kid, now it’s your turn.”
“Well…good luck with that Jak.” Daxter said to his friend, crawling up the ladder to sleep on the top bunk, well out of reach of the kid.
Jak rolled his eyes and then looked at the Kid awkwardly, having no idea what to do with him.
“So, what’s your name?” Jak asked. It didn’t feel right to only to refer to the boy as ‘kid’.
The Kid looked up at him, opening his mouth but saying nothing, frustration clear across his face.
“The Kid doesn’t speak.” Torn informed. “And we never got a name out of him.”
The Kid pouted, looking sad.
“Can’t speak, huh?” Jak sympathised.
Of course, he’d noticed the Kid’s silence whenever he was around, but had brushed it off as the Kid just being quiet and shy.
The Kid nodded, looking almost ashamed.
“Speaking’s overrated anyway.” Jak told the Kid. “I couldn’t speak until recently and I got on fine.”
The Kid looked up at Jak in wonder, mind apparently blown that the big strong teen used to be like him, which caused Jak to laugh slightly.
“That’s only because you had me to translate for you.” Daxter popped in from the top bunk, unable to sleep just yet and bored being by himself.
It wasn’t one of Daxter’s usual over-exaggerated claims, for the most part.
While everyone in Sandover village eventually learned how to understand Jak, most of them could only understand on a basic level. And anyone outside of the village was unlikely to know enough sign for Jak to communicate at all.
Speaking of which…
“Hey, Kid. Want to learn our ‘secret language’.” Jak offered.
The Kid wrinkled his nose, unsure but interested.
Jak looked over to Daxter promptingly.
Catching onto the look, Daxter folded his arms.
“I don’t know, Jak.” He said dramatically. “The right to learn our super special secret language is very exclusive. Only the best and coolest people get to learn it.”
This, of course, only served to make the kid even more interested, pointing to himself while bouncing slightly in excitement.
“I want to, but you’ll have to convince Daxter.” Jak told the Kid.
The Kid turned around to Daxter, giving the Ottsel the biggest eyes and pout he could manage.
“Ah!” Daxter exclaimed, covering his eyes. “Those eyes! No! They won’t work on me!”
Jak laughed at his friend’s antics, ignoring the scowls they were getting from the other rebels whose sleep was being disturbed.
Daxter lowered his arm from his eyes, only to be met with the Kid’s pleading face yet again.
“Ah! Alright fine.” He pretended to relent. “I swear, Jak, he’s worse than you used to be.”
The Kid clapped in celebration.
“Quiet down.” Torn ordered.
The three boys rolled their eyes as they started with the Kid’s first lesson, Jak and Daxter at least speaking more quietly.
As it turned out, Jak and Daxter’s ‘secret language’ was just sign language, though one Torn wasn’t familiar with.
“If you wave your fingers like this over your hand, that’s how you say Eco.” Jak instructed the Kid.
Jak found himself smiling, the sort of smiling he used to do, as he taught the Kid. It’d been a while since he’d been able to do something constructive instead of destructive. And it was even longer since he’d been able to share his language with others.
He didn’t remember who had originally taught him sign-language, just that they hadn’t gotten very far beyond teaching some basics, and that it had happened before he’d been brought to Sandover as a child.
After meeting Daxter, the two of them ended up creating their own signs to fill in the blanks.
Soon, the Kid was pointing around the room, wanting to know the sign for each object.
The Kid then pointed to himself.
Jak hummed, not having a sign for the boy since he didn’t know his name.
“You would be ‘kid’.” Jak gave the sign.
The Kid pulled a face at the sign, not liking it.
He then pointed at Jak.
Jak gave a sign very similar to the sign for Eco, causing some confusion in the Kid who gave the sign for Eco.
“No, that’s Eco. Daxter and I usually have to make up signs for people’s names.” Jak corrected while signing his name again.
The Kid pointed at Daxter.
Daxter was the one to give the sign for his name, it being a combination of the signs for ‘orange’ and ‘lighting’. The signs were actually a complete coincidence to Daxter’s self-proclaimed nickname, young-Jak having quickly addressed Daxter with the sign not long after having met him.
The Kid eagerly copied the sign a few times, causing Daxter to grin.
“See, Jak, my name’s much better.” He bragged.
While Jak and Daxter were happy to teach the Kid how to sign, they were still teenagers who weren’t very well adjusted mentally. So, Torn wasn’t very surprised when the teaching turned towards rude words and even some swears, which the Kid immediately took to, the ‘forbidden’ nature of the words making him more eager.
“All right, you three, that’s it for the night.” Torn instructed as he finally finished his planning, ready to finally sleep himself.
The Kid looked at Torn with a pout, before raising his middle finger to the ex-guard.
Torn’s eyes widened in shock, then narrowed at Jak.
Like the blame-dodging teen he was, Jak pointed at Daxter, who hadn’t been contributing to the lessons for a while and was instead drifting off.
Torn wasn’t fooled, but he also didn’t care which of the two he blamed, and Daxter was the easier target.
“Rat, don’t teach the Kid how to swear.” He directed his ire at Daxter.
“What!?” Daxter cried indignantly at the misdirected blame. “I didn’t-”
“I don’t care.” Torn cut off his protests, walking out the room to get a shower himself.
Daxter scowled as Jak tried not to laugh and the Kid looked guilty at getting Daxter in trouble.
“Why am I always the one who gets blamed.” Daxter complained.
It was a constant in his and Jak’s lives as far back as when they’d first became friends.
If Jak and him ever did something wrong, or Jak did something wrong with Daxter in the general vicinity, Daxter would get the blame, while Jak was ‘just going along with Daxter’s bad influence’. Samos seemed to be the only one who saw Jak for the trouble-maker he was, and even then he’d still direct most of his ire towards Daxter.
Though, if you asked Jak about it, he’d point out that Daxter was just as much of a trouble-making rule-breaker as him, who’d then turn around and blame Jak for getting them into messes that were either Daxter’s idea originally or that Daxter had no issue going along with.
The Kid crawled over the Daxter and patted the Ottsel on the head.
“Uh, thanks, Kid.” Daxter said, signing along with his words out of habit.
The Kid signed back one of the signs he’d learned before crawling back over to Jak, resting on the teen and yawning. Within moments, the Kid was finally asleep.
Jak tried to move to set the Kid on the bed, only to stop when the boy groaned in discomfort at the movement.
“Oh, you’re trapped now.” Daxter whispered with a grin.
The Ottsel then stretched and curled up on the bed, too tired to go back to the top bunk he had claimed.
Sighing, Jak tried his best to get comfortable, not wanting to wake the Kid after finally getting him to sleep. He’d set the Kid down later once he was in deeper sleep, until then he could rest his eyes.
When Torn returned from his shower, a luxury that he could now enjoy after the teens had turned the water back on, he found Jak asleep on his bunk, one arm curled protectively over the Kid sleeping on his chest and the other reaching down to rest against Daxter.
Shrugging, Torn turned off the main lights and picked out his own bunk for what remained for the night.