His head is smacked hard against the alley wall, struggling weakly in his hands. The blood from his chest began to seep through his shirt, showing the exact imprint from the slash he’d received.
“…Torn gave me an ultimatum. i can’t do it, Jak.” He forces out, letting the salty liquid finally spill from his cheeks. “He said you were becoming too dangerous, and wanted you ‘taken care of.’ Told him I couldn’t. You’re the only person I got. And..” he looks down at the blood seeping through the fabric. “He’d kill me himself if I didn’t. I’m dead either way, Jak.”
Jak’s grip tightened considerably as his jaw clenched, but he almost immediately caught himself and let go - but the look of pain wasn’t hidden.
He took a few deep breaths, trembling and clenching his fists as he fought - Precursors he was fighting - to control his anger.
“…I don’t give a fuck what Torn says.” He’d said it often, but this time was different. This time almost sounded like he was more interested in finding the ex-Guard himself and telling him just how he felt, but he didn’t move from Daxter’s line of sight. He moved closer, instead, throwing one of the redhead’s arms over his shoulder to guide him to a nearby zoomer.
“…that’s it. I’m fucking done. We’re going to the bar to get you patched up and then we’re fucking gone. I’m not dealing with this shit - I can’t deal with this. I-….fuck.” His grip on the zoomer’s controls was white-knuckle, threatening to damage the equipment if he got much worse.
