I watched as he carried the wrapped figure across the desert sand, under the beating sun. I hid behind a rock. You can call me chicken. I deserve it. To think that my friend was yards away, carrying his dead father and all I could do was hide behind a rock because I was afraid of him.

Come on Daxter! This is the same old Jak that I know an hour ago. A month ago. Years ago. Then why am I afraid? Because. He's upset, and you can't take it if he breaks down. That quiet, nagging side of my brain had a point. I was afraid of Jak crying.

Jak's been through so much. He had to save the world when he was fifteen. He was experimented on and thrown in jail the same year he saved the world. The experiments turned him into a dark monster, who craved destruction and revenge. He wasn't rescued for two years, making him seventeen. Then he saved the world again. And the people he saved were afraid of him. They exiled him. Threw him out because he was different.

He's eighteen now. He just met his father, barely got to know him, and now he's dead. Throughout all the crap he's been through, he's never cried. Not once. This made the thought of him losing it now terrifying. What if he got to angry, and changed? Could I, all two feet of me stop him?

NO! I scream to myself. Jak has control. And I have to be there for him. I spare a glance in his direction. He has just begun to dig, when he glanced over at the form of his late father. The shovel falls to the ground, and Jak stares there, arms around his chest, as if he's trying to hold himself in one piece. To keep from exploding.

Why can't I help him? I mean, I've always helped him! Who got him down from that tree when his shirt got stuck? Me. Who rescued him from prison and nearly got killed by him? Me. Who excepts him even though he has a dark side? Me. I mean, he's freakin' bled on me! That's never bugged me before! And now, when he needs me the most, I'm hiding behind a damn rock!

I look at Jak again. A strangled sort of noise comes from his throat. Oh crap. He was starting to cry. I can't do this. I just can't. Chicken, my conscious whispers. Chicken.

My conscious was right. I need to go help Jak. Taking a deep breath I scurry over to where Jak is standing. He gives me a look that is both pleading me to stay, and begging me to leave. And I almost left. Almost.

Using my furry paws, I start to dig. Jak joins me. He's so zoned out he nearly takes my tail of with the shovel. But I don't mind. This is Jak, my buddy Jak, and he needs my help.

The sun is setting by the time the grave is finally dug. I never realized how big Damas was. With a deep breath Jak lays the bundled Damas in the hole. Now we bury him.

The sun is set, and Jak is kneeling by the tomb stone. And a stone is all it is. Jak reaches down and takes the red bandana off from his neck. There. Now the tombstone was a stone and bandana.

"You put up a hell of a fight old man," Jak muttered. He draws a deep, shuddering breath. "I'm glad I got a chance to fight by your side."

Jak was gonna break soon. And then the tears would come. But it was Jak, my buddy, and like I said, he needs my help.

"I just wish I could have saved you." The tears were here now, pooling in his bright blue eyes and streaking against his cheeks. "I-I promise you that I will be the hero. For you."

Jak's breathing is becoming quicker, and shallow. His body is racked by silent sobs. He picks up some dirt from the grave and tosses it into the air. It blows away. Suddenly I realize how bad Jak really looks. That fight took more out of him than I thought. Despite the tears on his face, he looks murderous. He has blood caked in his fingernails, and a gash on his lower lip. His eye was black and blue, and multiple bruises were forming on his arm. His quiet voice brought me back into reality.

"I'm sorry that I couldn't save you. I'm not as strong as you. I probably never will be."

Jak's gasping for air now. It's painful to watch, but I have to stay. For him.

"I'm gonna miss you, Dad." Jak stands up and I scramble on his shoulder, just like I always do.

"Bye Damas," I say. "You were a great warrior. You should be proud of Jak." I look at Jak. He's still crying, but there's a smile forming on his lips. I have to make him laugh. Just this once.

"C'mon buddy, time to heal," I tell him. Jak shakes his head.

"Just this once, I'm gonna forget I have super powers. I want a chance to be normal." I fake a dramatic sigh. Here's my chance. Laugh dammit!

"Buddy, we ain't ever been normal. Never was, never will be." And a low, throaty laughter reaches my ears.

Oh yeah. I am good…

I love Daxter…

~LeiaOrganicSolo