It was weird, how some of the most dangerous places outside the walls were also the safest places to sleep.

Dax rubbed at his thigh, where a patch of tar matted his fur. A few feet below, dark eco rippled and stank beneath his chosen resting place, a rusting-out platform that wouldn't have been able to support a human's weight, but was still strong enough for an ottsel.

It was safe to relax, here. For a given value of safe, anyways. No one came near this part of the mine. Not even metal-heads tried their luck in this area. There was eco, sure- but it was liquid dark eco, and while the dark eco ore might be useful, the liquid stuff was just plain lethal. And the fumes could be killer. The stuff had eaten into all the metal around the place, and some sections were just flat out gone. Dax's little nest for the night, right over the eco pool itself, well… Some people would say anyone intending to spend five minutes, let alone five hours, was suicidal and looking for a long, painful death.

On the other hand, Dax thought, settling down on the rusty metal, it wasn't like he had much to worry from the stuff in the first place. The eco gave off a pitiable bit of warmth, but in winter, any warmth was better than none. There was snow all over the mine, except wherever there were eco pools. And it wasn't like he had anything to worry about from fumes. He'd been turned into an ottsel. The worst that could happen to him now was metabolic cancer, and that'd take a while, it if happened at all.

Somehow, he doubted he'd get sick from exposure to the eco. He'd been an accident prone human, so clumsy Samos had long ago given up and arranged with Jak's uncle to take care of two boys, instead of one, because left alone he'd probably fall down and break his neck or something. But he'd never gotten sick, not really. A few sniffles when everyone in the village was down with head colds, and not even bad cooking could take him out for long. That hadn't changed after the accident; instead, it'd seemed like he'd only gotten healthier.

Still clumsy, though. Frailer, too.

So yeah, the thought of sleeping over a pool of the nasty, dark ooze didn't really worry him much. The fumes wouldn't make him sick, the stuff gave off enough heat to keep him from freezing to death while he slept, and there was nothing in the area to attract humans or metal-heads, so no need to worry about things trying to eat him. If he fell in, what was the worst that could happen? He'd be turned human again? That'd probably make things easier, when it came to surviving in this place, rescuing Jak.

And if he were human again, he wouldn't have to worry about little things like tar in his fur, or lice, or ticks.

Precursors, he hated ticks.

He scratched absently behind one ear, already falling asleep. In the morning, he'd scrounge up some food, and then make his way back to Baron Praxis' prison. There was some vent-work he hadn't investigated. Maybe that'd be how he rescued Jak.

Because he had to rescue his buddy. He'd heard the screams, echoing through the building, and… Precursors have mercy, but…

Dax clenched his eyes shut, and shuddered. No, he'd rescue Jak, and they'd be the dynamic duo again, and everything would be fine. They'd go home, and Jak would be okay, and they'd leave this nasty place of cold, stinking metal and dark eco far, far behind them.

It'd be okay.

It had to.

A one-shot set before my next planned story, titled Monster. This is short. Monster won't be. Expect it before fall.

Disclaimer: I don't own Jak and Daxter, I'm just playing in the sandbox.