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Chapter Text

The return from the battle was silent. It seemed like Pandora itself had gone quiet after Neteyams passing. They saw no creatures of the sea on their way back to Awa'atlu. No strong waves. No gusts of wind. Even the ilus they rode seemed hushed.

A great loss has occurred. A child had gone to Eywa far too soon. 

It was rare on Pandora for a child to pass to Eywa. Unlike humans, children on Pandora were nearly never born sick, or unviable to their environment. Eywa molded all her children as they should be. Healthy and strong. Perhaps once the planetary mother of earth had done the same before the people's hearts had darkened; as they abandoned their nature-mother for technological advancement. Maybe, their mother nature had grown weak and lost her ability to create the same perfection that all Na'vi children seemed to be at birth.

Pandora grieved the loss of life that day. The child that could have grown to be mighty and strong. Kind-hearted with a level head for leadership. A good brother, a protector. A father to children that now would never be. Neteyam. The firstborn son of Jake and Neytiri. A child of Eywa. 

This type of early end of life was never the purpose. Never a part of the greater plan. Never Eywa's way. Not her intention. Eywa, you see was not a cruel goddess. The sky people wrecked her image of a grander life. The calm existence and perfect balance that life had been; before the earthly beings landed on her sacred soil. 

Eywa took Neteyam to her gentle embrace. She held him close and sobbed at how it was too early for him to be this close to her. She set her sorrows on her heart to hold, as she relinquished her plans for his later life. For a moment, he was simply hers. He was not his own person on a journey through life, nor a being on his path to the afterlife. He simply hovered with Eywa, closer than he'd been since she'd created his soul, closer than he ever would be again.

He slept with such grief as the cries of his family echoed deep within him. The unimaginable loss he'd discovered at the moment he knew his life alongside his siblings was over. But now with Eywa, she engulfed him with every bit of joy he'd ever felt in his life. The promise of being able to watch his family live and grow on Pandora from behind the veil of death. The knowledge that one day hopefully far from now they'd all be reunited. The awareness of ancestors he'd never met before waiting to greet him just on the other side of the journey he'd now begun. And as Eywa let his life go, his now fading future leaving this world, she breathed peace into his heart and mind. True peace, a type of calm grace he'd never experienced before. He was a child of Eywa, now returning to his maker.

That night, the first night that his siblings would be without him, even Eywa could not help Neteyam's family. As much as she wanted to aid them find a way to let him rest with her now, she could not interfere with the emotions that the loss of a child caused. The feelings were raw and needed. They burned marks on the heart that would heal slowly if at all.

But to not feel that pain would end in a result worse than the pain the initial days would bring.

The gasping emptiness that Neytiri felt at every moment, seemed to intensify the closer they got to Awa'atlu. Each breath she took, felt like an arrow to her core, like a sin to her son. She was never meant to live longer than the ones she'd made. She'd last felt this suffering when hometree fell. When her father and countless others passed. But back then, soon after a greater gift than she'd ever received was given to her. A child growing within her, beginning her life anew. Healing her, forcing her onwards. Pushing her towards hope and joy again when she held her firstborn. A child; the true gift of Eywa. Neteyam.

He'd always created such emotion in her. Love, gratitude, worry, joy, pride. That primal, protective instinct that roared to life only in the hearts of mothers. Now the loss of him was the worst moment in her life. She always thought she'd felt grief. Knew the pain of it. Recognized its mournful song. Now she knew she'd been foolish. This feeling. this. 

The sea seemed to sway especially gently under her ilu. A mother to be left alone. A mother to be allowed to feel.

There was no solace to be found in anything.

Chapter Text

Neytiri had ceased to cry on their way to Awa'atlu. She'd left behind the horror that'd been on her face on that rock at the battlefront. Catatonic. She'd been as if dead herself, seemingly unable to tell reality from falsehoods, reacting to only one thing since they'd reached the shore. Spider.

The sole occasion that Neytiri made a sound, or acknowledged something besides her oldest son's body was when he'd tried to follow the family in their Marui and she'd whipped around to hiss at him.

He hadn't tried to enter again.

She'd neglected to tend to the cuts and bruises of her other children. Spider knew this from watching the Sully children leave their home Marui towards where the Tsahìk was healing the injured. That had never happened before. Spider knew there wasn't a gash or hurt on any of the Sully kids' bodies that Neytiri would not find. Not a bruise that was left without salve, or a muscle ache that wasn't rubbed out by her at nightfall. No, the Sully kids rarely felt physical pain, with their mother acting fast and true whenever there was pain to be treated. 

Not this time.

Perhaps the Tsahìk of the Metkayina had reached a new level of trust from Neytiri? Maybe, the grieving mother knew that the Tsahìk would tend to her children, and trusted that enough to not do so herself.

No.

Neytiri simply wasn't mentally here. Neytiri didn't sleep. Didn't prepare food. Didn't speak. She just sat in the Marui, staring at Neteyams sleeping mat where he'd been laid to rest for a final night before his funeral, covered in flowers and herbs. 

Spider was the worst option to help her. But by Eywa did he want to. 

She simply seemed so... So-

Late into the night, as Spider sat on the beach next to the Sully's Marui he simply stared at the sea. He hadn't wanted to go far even after Neytiri's scorn. He wanted to be close by in case he was needed. He knew there wasn't anything he could do. No remedy he could give to the Sully's pain. And still, he stayed. 

Eventually, he wasn't on the beach alone anymore. Jake had made his way out of the Marui and over to Spider. He hadn't even been aware of the man's arrival until a heavy hand landed on his shoulder. Suddenly he was needed. Just not for a reason he'd expected. "She won't answer to anything. I need her to react to something so I can get her to sleep" Jake had whispered, his eyes apologetic and mournful. A look Spider had never seen on his face before. "We have the funeral tomorrow night, I must know if she will get up to go with us."

Spider had simply nodded. He knew his role. It didn't need to be said. He stood solemnly, soul aching that this was all he was good for at the time of the Sully's greatest need. Jake led Spider into the Marui, made him walk past the sleeping children, and over to where Neytiri was kneeling. She'd been so still it seemed she wasn't even breathing. Spider's breath also seemed confined to his throat at the sight of her. His heart thumped. His eyes landing only momentarily on Neteyams body, before returning to the mother.

Jake and Spider stopped. Even with him standing a few feet away she'd taken a moment to understand he was there. A moment in which Neytiri looked at Spider with no emotion. As if she was seeing right through him. Like he didn't exist. It was a gaze he'd seen her direct at him before. During the years before Tuk was born; before her protective instincts against his very existence came to a boiling point and turned from indifferent and distrustful to anger and loathing.

It almost seemed cruel. To not let her deal with her grief the way her own body wanted to. To goad a grieving woman to an emotional outburst just to get her moving again.

And as expected, as hoped for, her eyes came alive and she lashed out at him knife in hand, eyes full of rage, and a hiss that turned into a sob as soon as it left her.

Jake had breathed out a sigh of relief.

A sigh of relief at Neytiri's continued hatred for Spider.

A sigh of relief at her coming alive again over her sorrow.

Spider stumbled out, the last look he threw over his shoulder spotting Jake holding Neytiri up as she began to wail.

In the most dire of moments, there were two things that would wake Neytiri up. Protecting her children. And her hatred for Spider. They'd learned this when the sky people came back.

The suffocation of a cry Spider refused to let out made him feel like there was a bubble of air stuck in his throat. Like he was choking at the refusal to let his grief out. He was good for this. He'd done well. Jake had Neytiri now and would be able to lead her to bed and get her to sleep. That mattered. That was good. 

Spider should not feel sorrow.

His place was at the beach by the Marui. Not welcomed in, but still close enough to be used as bait to lure out the protective instinct in Neytiri should she fall to despair again. That night he was only needed once. 

Still he stayed awake. Staring at the sea.

Chapter Text

When the next night fell and it was time for the funeral, Spider stayed with Kiri. He traveled to the burial with her, and stayed floating just at the surface of the sea, ready to retreat and give privacy to the family should they need it. He did not wish to push his luck by getting too close. It wasn't his place. Already being allowed to even attend had been a sign of grace from Neytiri. Spider knew how Kiri found solace in him on the back of the ilu. He knew Neytiri saw it too. He was there for her eldest daughter.

Neytiri- for a fleeting moment- was grateful to the boy.

Spider would never know.

He watched as Eywa accepted and took Neteyam. He heard all the air leave Lo'ak as he watched his brother- his only true brother disappear into the golden glimmer of strands. 

Spider knew self-hatred when he saw it on someone's face. And it was clear as day to him on Lo'aks.

Whatever Spider may have felt in that moment he knew Lo'ak felt worse.

Spider wondered if the others were thinking the same as he. That Neteyam didn't belong here. That he should be in the forest that had been his home since birth, buried in the great roots of the trees. Given to Eywa in the grounds where he was born.

I want to go home.

To Spider it was strange where the mind would travel during a funeral. It made him question if he dealt with loss in a normal way. He knew everyone else thought the death of Neteyam was wrong as well. Went against the very nature of life on Pandora. But did everyone else have as clear a head as he did?

Since the moment Neteyams death rang true in his heart and was accepted in his mind, Spider began to observe. Feeling rather detached in a way from his own emotions, trying to read those of others.

On the way to the Cove of the Ancestors, Neytiri had been emotionless until the very moment she reached out to pull her eldest son's body into the sea. Tears welling, teeth slightly baring under her pained expression. Her face lost the composed look it had; crumpling under her pain.

Jake had simply mourned. He'd always been the leader type. Strong and certain. Now he just seemed lacking in that. He still guided his children just as he guided Neteyams body to Eywa. Looked at his children with reassurance. But he seemed defeated. Like his fight at least for now had left him. Like his mind fought against sorrow, to stay alert and capable of helping his family. But moment by moment it overpowered him again and again.

Suddenly he was something he hadn't been before. A mere drop in the sea. Spider Saw Jake better at that moment than he had ever before. He was more aware than in the past that he wasn't Seen back.

He felt selfish. Like he was a monster for wanting to be comforted over the loss of Neteyam. Selfish that he wished his expression could show the same sort of shock as the Metkayina youths did. The uncertain heartbreak and confusion. They'd never been faced with senseless death before. Not the way he had. He felt like a terrible person for wishing he'd been allowed into the Sully Marui so he could have mourned with the family. As if he cared only for himself because he wished even one of the Sullys had asked him if he was alright. Or taken the moment to See his anguish too. 

Those emotions and thoughts made him feel even worse. He had to push them aside. Ignore his concerns and needs. Simply try to See the Sullys when they need to be Seen the most.

He focuses on Kiri. Something has changed about her. The ocean seems almost focused on her. She is kept afloat with less effort than the rest. She seems at home in the sea. Like she is with Eywa even while she still is breathing and alive. She has a serenity about her that the others lack. She's found a way to lean onto Eywa even when her heart aches more than ever before. She is still sad. Angry too. Furious really. But just as the feelings come she seems to let go of them, only for them to return. There is a constant change on her face. Her expressions molded from her emotions just as clearly as they always had. From all of the Sullys Kiri had always been the one Spider Saw the easiest. 

She was not in denial; simply moving with the motions. Afloat in her own emotion. Living on. Living with her grief in a way the others don't seem capable yet.

Unlike Lo'ak and Spider, she feels no guilt. She knows she is guiltless in this. That she had no part in Neteyams end. She and Tuk, the only ones who didn't in some way blame themselves. The only two there that night that didn't wonder if they could have saved their brother.

And Tuk. Poor baby Tuk. Spider could feel her confusion as if it was a visceral thing he was experiencing too. She was right on the edge of the age that a child could understand the permanence of death. Eternal loss. Spider wasn't sure if Tuk was even fully mentally there. Her eyes first tracked Neteyam, unsure and scared. Mourning for a brother that would not come back from the golden glimmer. As soon as she couldn't see him anymore after her parents had let go of the body of her brother, her eyes began to dart around.

She was seeking comfort. Someone to hold onto her so she could weep without worrying about her material needs. Most likely not even aware of what she was doing. She needed someone to guide her through her grief. To sit down with her; to explain.

Spider swallowed his guilt. His uncertainty. He reached out to Tuk. Gently grasping her arm and pulling her more towards him. He allowed her to settle to his side, holding her still in the water so that she could stop her attempts at staying underwater. He could do this for her. Allow her body to grow slack in his grip as she started to properly weep, losing air faster than before. Giving up her time underwater to keep watching the spot her brother disappeared to; while letting out her tears and wracks of hurt.

Spider pressed a palm to the side of her head. He began to silently pray to Eywa. He hadn't prayed for a while now. It had seemed like a great crime when he'd been with his father to pray for Her help. Because he'd seized his attempts at an escape long ago. Day by day he'd become more compliant to the humans, only growing in anger at them once again when they started slaughtering the Tulkun and burning the Maruis of the Metkayina. There had been times when he'd enjoyed himself with the recombinants and it had felt as if he'd lost some of the small connection he had to Eywa. Like he was betraying Her.

But for Tuk, he would pray. For the Sullys he'd pray day and night if he felt it could help in some small way. He had no doubt that Eywa loved the Sullys. That She Saw them, cared for them, and would go above and beyond in the hour of their greatest need. And Tuk was such an innocent. Even if Eywa hadn't listened to Spider's begging when he was being tortured, maybe She'd take the time to hear him when he'd ask for help for the little girl.

He knew when Tuk needed a breath. She twitched the same way he did when his mask came loose. He lifted her towards the surface, waited for her to release what little air she had left, and take in more greedily. Even underwater he could hear her sobs, now more clear as she was at the surface. A suffering, a pain. She should never sound like that.

When he saw her take in air without her chest stuttering, he pulled her under the surface again.

He didn't need air with the mask breathing for him. He wished he could give it to Tuk to make this a little easier for her.

Spider looked down at where Neteyam had disappeared, only to see Neytiri swimming onwards. He'd normally think she was on a warpath, coming straight at him with that cold look on her face. But he knew. She'd heard her baby too. 

While most would think Neytiri was just angry, Spider knew better. Learning to read Neytiri's emotions had become second nature to him. Some deep survival instinct telling him to watch her. To learn of her moods, her little tells. What a type of hiss or huff meant. What the difference was when her brow would lower and her eyes would narrow in annoyance, versus the wide eyes with lowered brows for anger. There was an important distinction that he needed to understand.

One would make him stop whatever he was doing or saying in order to not lead her to anger, and the other meant he needed to flee.

Now her eyes told a story most would not understand. Spider saw through it. Concern had returned to Neytiri. That motherly instinct had a vice-like grip on her. 

It only needed to trigger to release her from the grip misery had on her. She was coming for her daughter.

Spider enforced the grip he had on Tuk, grasped her firmly, gave her a reassuring nod, and pushed her toward the approaching woman. Tuk glided through the water, like freefalling towards the one she yearned for the most. As soon as she had Tuk Neytiri stopped swimming just as Spider knew she would. Her goal had not been to get to Spider, though he didn't doubt she would have sent him away had he not let go of Tuk when he did.

The mother had heard the crimes of her youngest and had arrived to soothe them.

Truly; no one Saw Neytiri as well as Spider did. 

Chapter Text

For the first few days after Neteyam went to Eywa Spider went largely unseen in the community. The Metkayina were focused on healing their own, making food for the Sullys to show support, and trying to find a plethora of grieving shells for the family to choose from for their songcords.

Here at Awa'atlu songcords were more communally made than in the forest.

The Omatikaya had specific things that were always recorded the same way. Children were a drop of that child's blood encased in amber or a bead made during the birth. Adoptions were a lock of hair from the child. Deaths were a small personal item of the deceased...

To offer something for an Omatikaya songcord was considered rude. But here the Metkayina deaths were recorded with a specific type of shell, a dark and small one, that sounded like the sea but slower and deeper than other shells when pressed to the ear. A more mournful tune. Diving for these shells took hours of the day if you were even lucky to find one to begin with. So when a clan member passed, most of the clan disappeared into the sea in search of the elusive shells. The ones that found a grieving shell would bring it in a basket just outside of the family Marui that had lost one of its inhabitants.

Then the family would choose from the offered shells, add them to their songcords, and over the next few days return the rest of the shells into the sea to be found again when they were needed once more.

Deaths made Awa'atlu grow more silent and still. During the day few would remain in the village. Only the Tsahìk, the grieving, and the wounded would stay.

Spider found solace in it. It made him think for the first few days that the Metkayina had not minded him being there. 

He was wrong. 

Spider sat in the sun, just off to the side of the main village area. With the Omatikaya he got scorned looks and scoffs if he entered the main areas of the hometree without explicit invite or the company of the Sully kids. So here he stayed away too. 

His breath felt somewhat constricted still. The cut on his chest had remained untreated as he didn't seem to have the guts to go ask the Tsahik for healing. Now it had scabbed and tried hard to heal, but most movements made the scabs crack open and resulted in him simply bleeding again. He couldn't stretch his arms out or take a deep breath without affecting the scar.

Spider's fingers traced the scar absent-mindedly. He couldn't bring himself to look at it, nor give it enough thought to try helping it heal himself. The painful tugs of some of the scabs cracking open were reminders enough of the peril he'd been in. And he was haunted enough.

He was about to get up to walk into the sea to sit down a little deeper in the water when he heard someone call out: "Tawtute!" /sky person!/ A man Spider thought must have been a Metkayina warrior came barreling at him from the water: "Lumpe nga le'awtu?" /why are you alone/ "Nga sweylu tok mìfa Marui!" /you should be inside the marui! (Metkayina home)/ The warrior's voice was rather rough, clear anger resonating from within. Spider could hear the same bite in the way that the man spoke Na'vi as people who were mad about something. The normally smooth and calm-sounding language turned its tone to threatening.

"Ngaytxoa:" /sorry/ Spider replied, finishing getting up to face the man properly. Warriors deserved a better greeting than Spider staying on his knees as if they were simply friends meeting up. "Kawtu peng oe" /no one told me/

The eyes of the warrior widened, as his step halted. The water sloshed around his hips, still deep enough in the water to be practically face-to-face with Spider's short stature. "Nga plltxe Na'vi nìlaw." /you speak Na'vi clearly/ 

"Tseyä txin lì'fya. /it is my primary language/

Spider stood tall. He kept his back straight, his gaze on the male Na'vi, and showed no uncertainty in his body. He knew how to treat a warrior who was worried. No games, no stepping around things. Just be clear and consistent. They would always appreciate it.

"Oeyktìng." /explain why/

Spider rubbed his forefingers to his thumbs. A nervous action he had picked up at some point. He didn't really have anything to hide, but this was his first true interaction with the Metkayina, and he could see more of the clan members beginning to appear from the waves, some approaching, others spotting him and walking away in a large arch to ensure they would not step near. Whatever spell had sent the Metkayina into the sea these last few days; Spider didn't know. But now it was clearly over. They were returning home for good. 

"Eywaʼeveng oeyä kelku:" /pandora is my home/ Spider stated. He watched closely as the warrior's ears flicked back just a little as if his words were offensive. Then, as suddenly as that had happened; the the Na'vis ears turned forward. Listening closely. Spider had sparked curiosity: "Oeyä tìrey tsyul fìtsenge. Tsaʼu sweylu 'i'a fìtsenge nìteng" /my life began here. it should-shall end here too/ 

The male na'vi did not react to this at first, but then the upset expression on his face cleared, and Spider was faced with a look he'd seen plenty of times before. The Na'vi began to approach. He squinted at Spider: "Ngari solalew zìsìt apolpxay?"

This was how the Na'vi would ask for someone's age. Questions such as this were why humans had had such a hard time learning the language. The Na'vi was technically just asking a simple question, but the way they would word themselves left the direct translation to be: /as for you, have passed year how many/ Questions as simple as how old are you, didn't really exist in the language. Na'vi was far more complex with the way they spoke; being more elaborate and aureate.

"Oeri solalew zìsìt a mevol:" /i am sixteen years old/ Spider said: "Oel ngati kameie Metkayina tsamsiyu. Irayo tìhawnu ngeyä." /i see you metkayina warrior. thank you for your protection/ He moved his hand in the traditional way of greeting, ensuring to avert his eyes as was necessary when greeting a person you were not yet familiar with. This way you could show appreciation and respect without being overly audacious. It was an old habit that had mainly died out, but there was no 'too respectful' for Spider since he never wished to risk insulting a Na'vi. He didn't need to give more reasons to hate him. 

The warrior said no words back. Spider wasn't Seen. He did however nod his head fluidly as one would during the gesture. His hands stayed at his sides, and that read as uncertainty. Spider let out a small bit of air he wasn't aware he'd been holding in; he could work with uncertainty, rage and fear were tougher to deal with.

"Oeru syaw Uexo Te Folku've Nehul'itan" /i am called Uexo Folku've (family name) Nehul's son/ The man circled Spider once, his eyes roamed, learning as they went. This warrior, -unknown to but already guessed correctly by Spider- had been at the battle in Three Brother's rock. He'd seen humans there, but had not had the time to really look closer or observe. Now that that chance was in front of him, the warrior took it.

Spider had been the first human encounter to many a Na'vi in his lifetime. He'd been poked and prodded, nudged and tested. His hair color was questioned and his dreads yanked at. Those who were not used to humans were often horrified that he had no tail or no kuru. They learned through him.

This man Uexo was more hands-off than most.

"Oeru syaw Spider." /I am called Spider/

"Spaier?" Uexo repeated. His native language was in the way of pronouncing Spider's name correctly. "Soaia tstxo?" /family name?/ 

"Kehe tstxo:" /no name/ Spider looked at the ground, his fingers curling to a loose fist. He had no family name. Nothing specific he actually wanted to claim, or would even be allowed to should he wish to.

Uexo nodded: "Nga 'eveng." /you child/ It seemed like a broken way to speak. Or maybe even a command if one did not understand Na'vi. But it was simply the Uexo exclaiming that Spider was just a child. And children were precious. The little wariness from the warrior melted away. 

There was curiosity around them. The other warriors had stayed near, alert, but not opposing or disrupting their conversation. Uexo waved his hand quickly to tell the warriors to depart. A common way to let others know he was handling things well. They could rest easy.

Some stayed close by nonetheless, still clutching spears, not pointed at Spider however which he was grateful for. 

Spider felt like such an alien. He'd not met the Tsahìk or Olo'eyktan; had not stood in front of a council of elders nor given Uturu. He wasn't even sure if that was something he could ask for considering he was a skyperson. He felt judged and like all of his skin was itchy. He was also very aware he'd gotten very lucky that it was Uexo who'd left the water first and began this interaction. He seemed level-headed and calm in his approach. Someone else might not have been as lenient. 

Spider moved his foot back and forth digging it into the sand. He could feel it gripping onto his bare feet. The sensations here were so new. They didn't have tropical sands in the forest.

"Nga tìkin ne tse'a Olo'eyktan." /you need to see the clan leader/ Uexo laid his hand, palm open at the top of Spider's back, two fingers reaching out quickly to inconspicuously twirl one dread to test the texture. He started walking, assuming the boy would follow especially with the pressure from his hand on his back, and started leading him through Maruis. Twisting past them on the woven paths, moving further from the shore until they were at the Marui furthest over the ocean. 

Spider took in a worried breath, throwing a look over his shoulder to where he could barely spot the Sully Marui; wishing Jake would be standing outside and witnessing the moment. He wasn't sure what Jake had said for Spider to go unharassed and unquestioned by the Olo'eyktan for so long. He didn't know what claims had been made; if there were promises exchanged or cover stories told. If Jake had not been fully truthful to keep Spider in the village; he'd have a hard time covering up the lies for the man. 

Uexo seemed aware of Spider's concern, at least by how the pressure on his back slightly intensified as they stepped into the Marui.

Chapter Text

Spider was still not used to how bouncy the Maruis and walking paths of the Metkayina were. His feet would sink in just slightly, and due to the massive difference in body weight between him and Na'vi, they created a sinking feeling to his feet whenever they stood near. He did not doubt that if one of the Na'vi were to jump for some reason, he'd go flying since he was a poor excuse for a counterweight. Didn't help with his balance either. Whenever Uexo stepped a little too close to Spider, his knee would buckle from the ground being a lot lower than expected, making him appear rather clumsy.

The Marui is warmer than the outside, a fire is already blazing in the middle, letting smoke gather around the top of the Marui, and billowing out from the ventilation holes at the top. 

Spider felt nervous again. The only Olo'eyktan he'd ever met was Jake and he doubted that counted since the circumstances hadn't been very formal at the time. It left him to wonder who Jake had made the new leader of the Omatikaya when he'd run with his family. Maybe-

"Zola'u nìprrte' Uexo": /welcome Uexo/ A rather booming voice, held back to create a softer undertone spoke from the left side of the Marui. It certainly stopped Spider in his tracks, his train of thought lost as well. 

"Oel ngati kameie Olo'eyktan." Uexo replied; his hand greeting in motion with his words. The man being spoken to repeated the gesture, only Spider didn't see this, standing on the right side of Uexo, the Olo'yektan still out of his field of view. Spider's feet shifted, some primal human instinct advising to find better placements for his feet in case he needed to run. Not that he could outrun a Na'vi if he tried. Spider flinched when he noticed Uexo had suddenly leaned down to quietly speak to him: "Sngum kea. Poan lu nìpxi lefpom." /worry not. he (the olo'eyktan) is especially peaceful/ 

Spider looked up at Uexo, finding the man smiling. 

It fit his face.

Spider was cut short of nodding back as a reply; by the Olo'eyktan finally stepping closer. He now stood between Spider and the fire blocking the light from reaching Spider and Uexo. The brightness of the flames from behind his back obstructed Spider from really seeing his face or any details. Instead, the Olo'eyktan looked as if he was glowing. The warm light bounced off of the sides of his frame, lighting the back of the Marui. The Olo'eyktan's shadow is cast towards Spider and looks rather menacing. 

Spider's fear peaks. Fuck especially peaceful- that's the biggest Na'vi he's ever seen. Spider's eyes widen and he can almost feel his skin flush white. His fear is more evident on his face than it has been in a long time. Masking his emotions had been a rather necessary skill with the RDA and recombinants, but it's like all that skill of not wearing his emotions on his face was gone in a flash.

For a moment he feels a sensation of impending doom. Who wouldn't while facing such a large man?

Spider only reached his elbow. His elbow- 

The boy can't even bring himself to think how effortlessly this clan leader could kill him if he wished to. 

Quaritch had been tall. Taller than Jake. And Jake was tall for a Na'vi too. Still, Spider just knew they weren't as tall as this man. 

"Tawtute 'eveng?" /human child/ The Olo'eyktan speaks out: "Lumpe kem si nga zamunge poan fìtsenge?" /why did you bring him here/ 

"Poan wrrpa Sully Marui:" /he was outside the Sully marui/ Uexo replied before giving Spider a quick look and retracting his hand from the boy's back. He started gesturing rapidly at the Olo'eyktan. Spider had not picked up on the gesture language of the Metkayina at all. He'd been able to guess some very simple things such as directional cues. Now he had no idea what was being said, and that didn't make him feel any more confident about the situation. 

The Olo'eyktan nodded and gestured back. Some sort of understanding was reached and Uexo turned around to leave the Marui. Spider looked after him with a forlorn feeling, before his head snapped back to the Marui, looking at the Olo'eyktan and trying to discreetly take in his surroundings. You never wanna get caught unaware.

"What is your name child?"

"Spider." It was time to focus. Spider straightened his back and decided that he would treat the Olo'eyktan just as he treated Na'vi warriors. Clear answers, no unnecessary questions, be polite, be respectful. He took in a proper breath of air through his mask and gave the man his whole attention.

"And your family name?" The Olo'yektan spoke. His voice really was deep. It had a raspy sort of edge to it, but also softness that only came with age. He sounded older than he physically seemed. Speaking with the same tone and depth to his voice through full sentences, though Spider didn't doubt that his voice would fill with emotion when the man experienced turmoil. 

Spider felt his throat constrict quickly before swallowing the feeling away: "I do not have one."

"Were you birthed by a mother?" The Olo'eyktan asks.

"Yes."

"And your mother and father had names?" 

"Yes." 

The Olo'eyktan nods: "Then you have a family name. Tell me it." The order was emphasized with a hand movement. A hand comes up quickly, bending from the elbow towards the chest and clenching to a fist halfway through. The sign for 'tell, speak, share'. Spider was not aware of the meaning but tried to remember the hand sign anyway. He wanted to learn the silent Metkayina language in the future.

For a moment Spider gave it a thought. The later part of his family name was not the issue. His name was Spider and he was the son of Quaritch Paz. But a clan name? He had no clan, thus a third of his name did not exist. His last name did sound Na'vi enough, and using the Sullys name was certainly out of the question. Perhaps he could pull off Socorro as an Omatikaya family name. 

"Spider te Socorro Paz'itan:" /Spider Socorro Paz's son/ It was an explanation more than a statement. Spider had never introduced himself as such. Had always hoped one day he could be a te Suli. But he knew now that day would never come. He was not one of the Sullys. And he certainly didn't want to claim himself as Miles'itan. /Miles' son/ A Metkayina would not know how to separate a human female name from a male one, so even though a son was to claim their father's name, he didn't believe he'd be caught for swapping Quaritch's for his mother's instead. 

"A good name. All Metkayina must have a full name. It is used for rituals all through our lives. Our names have meaning. If you wish to stay in the village, you must have a name." The man's voice went into more fluctuation, he spoke Na'vi a little slower than he'd spoken to Uexo as if unsure if Spider could keep up otherwise. 

The realization that he was being spoken to as if he might not understand made Spider run back the conversation in his mind. He'd given short answers. Now the clan leader thought he was stupid. Great...

"Oe tslam. Irayo fpi oeyktìng." /i understand. thank you for explaining/ For a moment Spider wondered what the correct next step would be, but when the moment of silence stretched slightly too far he rushed to speak: "Olo'eyktan, fyape syaw fko ngar?" /clan leader, what are you called/ 

The man stepped to the side, allowing the light of the fireplace to redirect and distribute around the Marui better. While the Olo'eyktan was stepping away Spider could see him well for the first time. The orange light of the fire made his otherwise teal-green skin look almost tan, a pale sand-like color everywhere it touched. He had many tattoos. They seemed almost like one coherent piece that had movement to the way they'd been made, each one complementing another blotch of black. The tattoos started at his hairline and extended under it as if he'd had to shave his hair off to get his scalp tattooed as well. The graceful lines covered most of his face, and moved down his neck, to his chest and shoulders. He wore a heavy necklace of some type of teeth and seemed to prefer the color brown for his wearings. His hair was braided tightly to his skin before being allowed to flow freely down his back. 

His eyes were kind.

They were big and round and almost identical to the color of his skin, only slightly bluer than the rest of him. He had a strong nose and chin, the latter emphasized by being the placement of his darkest tattoo, creating a background for a drop shape down from his bottom lip.

The facial shape of the man was soft. He didn't have an especially sharp jawline or any of the other details of bone structure that could make a man look all that more menacing. 

"Oeru syaw Tonowari te Aokaìwtawa Toìkreya'itan" /i am called Tonowari Aokaìwtawa (family name) Toìkiar's son/ 

"Oel ngati kameie Tonowari:" /i see you Tonowari/ Spider said immediately, the respectful greeting paired with its movement came fluidly.

A beat of silence. 

And then: "Oel ngati kameie Spider." /i see you Spider/ Tonowari replied, his fingers curled inwards briefly touching his forehead before extending down with his arm towards Spider. "Please, sit."

Tonowari pointed at a soft woven placemat on the ground near the fire. Spider obliged. His belly seemed to curl with glee that the Olo'eyktan had returned his polite gesture. I See you was such an important thing to be reciprocated, but for Spider people tended to never say it back.

A sharp gash of hope bloomed in his chest.

Sitting down the Olo'eyktan seemed only larger. More menacing. His legs dwarfed the sitting mat he'd sat down on; spilling over the edges as if it had not been made for him but for someone smaller. For such a large being his steps were soft and certain. He didn't stomp around as if he owned the place. Didn't display his leadership in his body language. He was relaxed and calm, moving as he did when he was free of larger duties, and on his way to a rest. He was in his own home after all, and didn't fear the small human he was now offering a bowl of food to.

Spider accepted it, not wishing to seem rude. The formal nature of this meeting suddenly melted away. That's when Spider realized that Uexo had been asked to leave because Spider didn't require a guard. He wasn't here to be questioned by the Olo'eyktan or judged for whether he would be allowed to stay. 

He was in the Olo'eyktans home, as a guest. 

Chapter Text

For the next 15 minutes, Spider was asked about his skills, his age, and if he'd passed his Iknimaya. The conversation was light, Spider ate, as what he'd been offered was fruit and he could eye out some from the bowl he could consume. That didn't change the fact that they'd been cut and mixed with fruit poisonous to him. He'd still get some of the symptoms through the food being contaminated against human consumption. But a headache, maybe a light fever, and some potential memory loss seemed better than scorning the Olo'eyktan's offer of food.

He took fast breaths every time before he cracked open the seal of his mask and quickly ate as many bites as he could. It wasn't easy to not breathe in the poisonous air of Pandora while eating, but food was offered, so he made do and risked it.

Tonowari watched the boy eat at first, curious about his facial armor before turning his back to him and continuing to weave a type of healing seaweed into gauze. It required deft fingers, his own feeling horribly large and clumsy for such a job. The seaweed needed to be ripped into thin, long pieces so that when weaved together it would stretch and bend around any appendage. Usually, this wasn't a job for him, since it was a delegation of the Tsahìk; but his people were in need, and he could provide, having watched his mate do the same work hundreds of times. 

The boy confused him. He'd watched him at Neteyams wake. How he'd taken care of the littlest Sully and tried to be as self-sufficient as he could. How Kiri seemed to get much more support from him than the other Sullys. How he seemed terribly small and easy to harm. Not at all like a monstrous creature like the sky people had been during the battle. 

Back at Three Brothers Rock Jake Sully had claimed the boy as his. Part of his family. A son. 

And Tonowari trusted Jake, so he wasn't particularly worried about this small growing human. His mate, however- had been harder to convince. 

Ronal and Tonowari were a good couple in leadership, mainly due to one of their most stark differences. Tonowari was more inclined to trust, and offer aid and multiple chances, while Ronal was more distrustful, and strict. It didn't do well to be too much of either when caring for such a large clan. So they balanced each other out quite well.

In this case, Tonowari knew his mate had caved for the sole reason that Spider was a child. 

Amid the conversation, Spider saw his chance to make his wishes known: "Oe new 'ì'awn hu te Suli." /i want to stay with the Sullys/ He looked Tonowari right in the eyes, trying to create a look of certainty in his own. Tonowari looked over his shoulder, his fingers stopping the delicate work they were doing. His brows were slightly furrowed.

"Te Suli lu 'Ì'awn mì Awa'atlu." /the Sullys are staying in Awa'atlu/ Tonowari says, turning his head back around to continue his work: "Nga iì'awn nìhawng." /you stay too/

Spider was quiet a moment. It wasn't an offer or an ask. It was said with an excessive tone and pronunciation for the word too. It wasn't simply Tonowari saying that Spider could stay, but rather that he was to stay specifically with the Sullys. It had been decided. 

He nodded, before rushing to verbally reply as well, in his hurry to realize the Olo'eyktan could not see the nod behind his back. 

"You should return to your family Marui now young one." Tonowari said: "My mate Ronal would not be too keen to find you in our home, child or not. Show your worth and she will See you soon."

Spider nodded again, dumbly due to being allowed to just... Leave? 

Uexo had been right to say the Olo'eyktan was an especially peaceful Na'vi. 

"Thank you, for your kindness Olo'eyktan," Spider said getting up, leaving the bowl of all the fruit he could not eat by the fire, and left the Marui, with one last respectful gesture at the door. 

He shivered as soon as he stepped outside, the temperature plummeted here a lot more suddenly than in the forest, the sea wind bringing in icy air from the depths. Spider already knew the cold would only get worse, and that he would not sleep well tonight. He tremors suddenly. 

Spider guessed that the agreement for him to stay had been for him to be in the Sully Marui at all times. He could see why. The Metkayina were not a tribe of war, and the recent events, the death of a child had shaken the community. To allow a human into the clan after seeing the devastation the sky people could bring would not bore well with the clan. They needed time to heal and feel safe again and that task would take longer if Spider moved around as he wished. So he settled back to the beach by the Sully Marui. 

The Marui was beautiful it was floating above the water, made of fine weaving, strong enough to shelter waves and strong winds. It could bend and move with the sea without breaking should a massive tide come in, although such things were rare. It stretched out in three directions like a triangle, the weavings attaching to the roots of massive trees, that grew from the sea itself; giving shelter to the Metkayina people. Its entrances were circular, and the top reached up in a horned shape towards the large canopies that stretched over the Maruis and blocked the harshest midday sun.

The weaving patterns were largely decorative, with two layers for everything, first for structure and strength, and second for the artistry of the homemakers. The Metkayina knew their land and its abilities. The homes were a product of likely thousands of years of living here, learning the sun and sea's movement, and then creating homes that would last and let live on.

Perfectly adapted and evolved as all things on Pandora. 

Only one of the far-reaching corners of the Marui reached the sands of the beach, and there stayed Spider's dedicated spot. One where he was entirely hidden from people walking the bouncy paths between the Maruis, and entirely invisible to any of the Sullys in their home, no matter where they stood in it. 

For Neytiri, Spider was out of sight, out of mind.

Spider looked to the sea, the sun had just disappeared behind the horizon. He'd missed out on its most wonderous colors tonight, and it felt like such a loss. A long sigh escaped him, fogging up his mask. The sun setting would not bring him calmness of spirit tonight. 

At least he'd eaten. 

Finding food at Awa'atlu was difficult. The first few days had been fine. He'd noticed a tree near the edge of the jungle that grew familiar shell fruit. Well technically the tree itself did not grow the fruit. Shell fruit grew on parasitic vines that would creep up trees and steal their water and nutrients as they spread.

Shell fruit were hard for Spider to harvest. It needed to be hit open, but not too hard so as to not crack the hard outer shell into the fruit inside squishing it in the progress. A grown Na'vi could simply punch the shell open. A Na'vi child could use a rock to snap it free. But for Spider he was too weak to punch it open, and using a rock would make him hit it too hard. 

He'd destroyed two of the fruits before being successful. By the end of the second day, he'd been hungry enough to go back to the tree to scrape up the smushed fruit, carefully picking out the shards of the shell so as to not break his teeth biting into one. He'd then guzzled down the fruit that had turned into goo as if he were drinking a smoothie.

The crux of this particular parasitic vine was that it seemed to have been lazy. It was the sole vine around, not having spread to the other trees, and had only grown the measly few fruits that Spider had already eaten. By the beginning of the third day, he was hungry, and at the start of this one- the fourth day since the battle his stomach was clenching and constricting with the need to eat.

The food from Tonowari had been an Eywa send. Coming right at the correct moment for Spider to not have to spend more of his energy looking for food that night. He could search tomorrow although he didn't doubt his hunger would be back with a vengeance by then. Fruits were great, but they weren't a balanced meal. Spider needed nuts, berries, and something more filling that would give him proper energy. He needed to show this clan he could provide and be a good asset and begging for food or joining common cookfires where he wasn't wanted, was the opposite of that. 

He needed to provide for himself. 

After a moment, by the sea, in his spot, Spider's stomach suddenly heaved. His eyes widened, horrified. Would the two days with lower than-normal nutrition already make him lose his meal for being too much too soon? It couldn't be so. Spider felt bile rise up his throat, but forced himself to swallow over and over, lifting his hand to his mask as if it would help the food stay in. 

The taste was awful. He felt as though the bile had burned the sides of his throat, a strange thing that would occasionally occur when his meal tried to come back up. It was more than uncomfortable and he felt weak because his eyes welled up wet at the feeling. 

He was a tough kid. He wouldn't let himself waste a meal that had been given to him without an ask of repayment. 

Once Spider felt he had control of the situation, he found himself on his hands and knees, looking down at the sand. He had no recollection of when he'd turned to this position, but it had helped. He shook his head, feeling a headache coming on. His throat craved water. Anything to drink. Even seawater would do to get this flavor out. 

He groaned.

The grains of sand were so delicate under his hands. So strangely soft when mixed on the ground even though picking up a single grain felt coarse when rolled between his thumb and forefinger. Staring at the sand was a good distraction. He grabbed a handful and then allowed it to slip between his fingers. The sand was lovely.

It looked like colors shifting and falling like rocks thrown down a waterfall, with the different gradients moving down to join the sandy beach once more. He buried his feet into the sand when he adjusted himself to sit once more. He dug into the sand with one hand, seeing that the sand deeper down was cold, and right below that it was wet. The sea did affect the sand, it simply didn't reach the top of it. 

Spider liked the sand. It was like the Na'vi. Even the grains of sand that were different were a part of the hive. They all flowed down equally when slipping through his fingers. They all were made of the same things, carved by Eywa. They belonged together. Had a connection. If a part of the sand was separated it was still sand, still had its place on the beach. And sand couldn't hurt anything. It was in the land and in the sea, it held up this community, being the building block that they walked and grew on. 

Spider decidedly was not sand. He was the large boulder behind his back that obscured his resting place from the village. He was the one who threw a shadow over the sand. The thing that felt scary and wrong. Someone who didn't belong. Couldn't conform no matter how he tried. The boulder was cold and dead to the world. Never moving, never changing. He was what he'd been born to be. A human- crushing the sand the Na'vi below it. 

Spider's mind drifted. Went to Neteyam first. It hurt to think of him. Once, what felt like a lifetime ago Neteyam had played with Spider. They'd ran in the thin rivers of the forest, thrown water at each other, and playfully fought. The laugh that Neteyam had  as a child was engraved in Spider's memories. It had been high-pitched and free, so full of youth and light. Carefree at its very core. Then they'd been joined by Kiri, then Lo'ak. They'd grown taller and stronger, Neteyam first towering over the rest, then Kiri quickly catching up. 

Spider was left with just Lo'ak at his own height at that point and then Neteyam had changed. It was sudden, unexpected. When Spider would go get him- his best friend, to play he would not come. Sometimes Spider would catch Neteyam playing with Lo'ak and Kiri, but as soon as Spider would show up Neteyam would run the other way. Spider wondered how pathetic he must have looked for weeks back then, trying to catch up with his friend; begging for him to explain what Spider had done wrong. How Neteyam could forgive him; what he'd have to do. By Eywa Spider was quite sure the first few times Neteyam had ran Spider had thought it just a new game, giggling and running after to be with the one he missed the most. 

It was a cruel wake-up when Neteyam had twirled around suddenly one day, mid-run, and lifted a knife Spider's way, hissing and baring his teeth. 

A warning to not follow, to leave him alone. 

Spider never ran after him again. 

Kiri became his new best friend. She'd comfort him, saying that Neteyam was a skxawng /moron/ that listened to their mother too much. Back then that had caused a shiver to travel through Spider's spine, uncertain what it was about Neytiri that always seemed to cause such a reaction. Kiri had been a greater companion for those first few weeks after Spider finally understood Neteyam wouldn't return to play anymore. Lo'ak just seemed confused about it all.

Lo'ak was younger, and yet he too grew past Spider soon after; things with Neteyam having grown stale and disdainfully neutral by then. Well maybe disdainful for Neteyam, Spider would simply ignore Neteyam, only looking at him when he could without being seen back. 

He watched as Neteyam's songcord began to fill. Had been the first to know that Neteyam was experiencing his first crush. Eìtxey had been the Na'vi youth that had caught Neteyam's attention. Neteyam of course had been too prideful, and too keen on keeping his parents proud to pursue anything. Spider had caught on when Neteyam had begun to secretly learn to heal, so he could patch up his younger brother when Lo'ak would get in trouble and needed to not get caught. He'd also immediately been able to tell that Neteyam was terrible at it. 

He'd known Neteyam would pass his Iknimaya on the first try. He'd not even been concerned about it; and even guessed correctly that his ikran /banshee/ would be green, although that was more luck than anything else.

Spider thought about the time Neteyam had spent here with his family. Did Neteyam like living at Awa'atlu? Had the last year or so of his life here been nice? Had he taken to the water well or had he struggled? Spider guessed he'd been a natural since it seemed the default state for the firstborn. Had he liked the people here or made friends? Did he like the food or the different chores? Or had he simply missed the forest the whole time, cleverly hiding that ache from his family until the very last moment when he couldn't anymore? The need to be home where he was born and belonged leaving his body with a final plea to his family.

I want to go home.

Spider shook his head, trying to ring out that echo of Neteyam's broken voice from his head. How he'd struggled for breath, sporadic and afraid. His gasps went from too slow to fast as if he was still running over the long roots that lead to hometree... His headache intensified, and his vision grew blurry.

The loss of knowledge of how Neteyam had lived his life here burned in Spider's chest. That lovely pink spiraled shell at the end of Neteyam's song cord reflected a life here.

Spider while not a part of his life since childhood, had observed every great moment of Neteyam's existence from afar. 

He would never know Neteyam had watched back.

A sob left Spider. The night had fallen and darkness set. The Marui home fires blazed in the night, reflecting flashes of red and orange, with a bright glowy yellow to some of the water's surface under the homes. Their warmth did not reach Spider. 

The Sullys were asleep. 

For the first time since his death, Spider was thinking of Neteyam properly. Allowing himself to mourn. His breath had fogged his mask alongside his sobbing. Once he turned his head down, the dropping tears cleared the fog away, allowing him to see through the trails that the drops left behind. 

Something terrifying curled up in his chest. A pain so severe he didn't know what to do with it. Had shock and denial caused this? 

Spider's hands gathered at his chest; pressing down on it as if to relieve the ache. It did not help- his headache adding to his confusion, a pulsing sensation now.

His fingers clawed out, scratching through the scab of Neytiri's cut leaving finger marks of pink skin behind, bleeding in the places the scab had been deep, or cracked before. He dragged his nails up towards his throat. A type of loathing he knew all too well built up somewhere even deeper. This time it wasn't over how much weaker, and smaller he was. It wasn't about how he'd never be a true Na'vi or one of the people. This hatred he felt was purely reserved for the fact that Neteyam had died coming back for him.

And Spider wasn't worth it.

Chapter Text

Two days later Spider still didn't know what had happened to his chest. All the work his body had put in on curing the cut had gone to waste. He could remember leaving the Marui of the Olo'eyktan, sitting down on the beach, and beginning to wail, after that though, it was all gone. 

No memory of anything from that night, or the early morning of the next day. He'd seemingly been productive though since by the time he'd returned to his own mind yesterday, he'd had a basket with three fish at his feet. 

Today Spider decided it was high time to attempt to heal his wound properly. He'd slipped into the tropical paradise in the center of the island early in the morning, in search for the leaves that could keep down inflammation when pressed to wounds. It needed to be activated with the nectar of a large yellow plant that would open only when cut down. Both of these things enjoyed a more humid, moist environment, so Spider made the guess that he'd find them here all the same as the forest.

He climbed up a large boulder, at the very least 20 times his size, and found the leaves of the red vine growing there in a circular pattern. Then he looked for open areas in the jungle where some of the light could shine down from between the trees, and right there in the middle, a few yellow bell-shaped flowers, petals closed tightly and leaves curled up around their stems. 

Spider placed a bowl on the ground under the flower. He'd carved out some bark a few days prior to drink out of, and now he'd be able to use it for this too. He didn't want to take anything from the village, so he made do with whatever materials were found in large quantities to make things himself. He had a rudimentary spear he could use to catch fish, that was too dull to actually harm a Na'vi. Spider assumed this was why it had not been taken from him the few times a villager had spotted him with it.

He lifted up a sharp rock, bringing it to the stem of the plant. He cut through quickly, listening to the plant petals open, and then the liquid inside slosh down into the bowl. He tried to be careful not to spill anything, but Na'vi said when this was done, the few drops that spilled over, were to heal Eywa's sorrows. 

Spider allowed the plant to drop. Its color fades slightly, lost to the world. 

It felt... Unfair, that he'd be the one to benefit from the life work of this plant. It had been so big he'd had to stand on his toes to reach the stem from where the petals began. It had been taller than him, growing for weeks, reaching ever so gently for the sun. It carried meaning, and memories probably better than Spider, since intricate DNA lived in all of Eywa's creations. The Na'vi loved this plant because it gave its life to nurture their tribe, heal their cuts, and leave lessened scars on their bodies. Spider looked at the other three flowers, then down at where he'd put the leaves of the red vine, and dropped them into the liquid in the bowl. The longer the leaves were in there, the more potent the healing ability could be, becoming its strongest right on the five-hour mark of soaking. 

With determination, Spider lifted the bowl and left the jungle. He checked that none of the villagers were near to see him reappear, and then rapidly made his way to the Sully Marui. He cleverly weaved through the paths of the Metkayina, avoiding the few clan members he spotted along the way. He brought the bowl to the edge of the Sully Marui, careful not to enter, and then retreated. 

He could hear sobbing from within. Kiri. 

His heart felt like it twisted around itself. He wanted to comfort her, to tell her he was there for her. But Kiri had always been good at taking what she needed from him. She'd burst into the human base and straight to his room if she had a hard day, and always initiated a hug when she felt the need for one. She never had to really ask, and Spider didn't need to offer. There had been an unspoken agreement in place for years, that Kiri could take and take; and well, Spider didn't show his sadness to the outside world, so he didn't need anything in return. 

Kiri however was a wonderful person and would chase off Na'vi youths that were bullying him anyways, and then would sit them down somewhere others wouldn't come. They'd be there the rest of the day without fail. Usually somewhere up high on a cliff, or at the top of a tree overlooking the forest.

This tradition had begun when Neteyam had left Spider behind.

Kiri had not sought out Spider since the funeral. Spider wasn't even sure Kiri knew where he slept the nights. But she had her ways of finding him, and she hadn't. So she must have been getting comfort elsewhere. He could imagine it now, Jake; overly gentle with his daughter petting her head and shushing her. Or maybe Neytiri with her palm pressed to Kiri's cheek and a thumb wiping back and forth under her eye, ridding her of tears as quickly as they'd fall. 

Spider lowered himself to sit down on the bouncy path, and then with his arms holding up his weight, he lowered himself into the water. He needed to find food. 

The mask gave him a strange advantage in the water. From what he'd seen the Metkayina had excellent lungs. They could spend ages beneath the water's surface, even physically exerting themselves without needing to go for a breath for a while. But Spider could literally breathe in the sea with the aid of his mask, and there was no beating that other than not needing any air. And everything living and Eywa-made needed to breathe. 

Spider started swimming to a little cove at the edge of the village. Lots of things grew there, and while Spider didn't know the Awa'atlu plant life he could remember Norm saying that all seaweed growing where light could reach was okay for human consumption. Spider shivered at the thought of the depths of the sea he was in, unknown and uncharted by the sky people. Apparently, on planet earth, they didn't even know their seas. Only having mapped about 25% of their oceans. 

What a ridiculous notion. To be ruining your own planet to the point of it being unlivable before even knowing all of it. Stupid to destroy the planet in the first place really, but somehow without seeing all of its beautiful creations it seemed an even greater crime. Because who knows what afflictions they had caused the deeper parts of the sea? 

Spider himself however didn't really have an interest in knowing the deepest parts of this particular sea. He would leave that for the Na'vi since certainly he would not come back from such an excursion. 

His fingers gripped onto seaweed once he started weaving in between them. There seemed to be only two types of it growing in the cove. A thicker, more leather-feeling one that was dark green and grew up so high it tangled on the top of the waves. It seemed like better than nothing, but felt tough and possibly hard to chew through. 

The other slimy seaweed grew less deep in the water, closer to the beach. It was a lighter green color, with frilly edges, and it grew far less straight, moving with the waves and providing a home to fish that needed shelter. It was thinner too, so Spider would have to eat more of it, but at least he wouldn't need 10 minutes just to get his teeth through one bite. 

Spider put one of the tangly seaweeds between two of his fingers and then pulled the seaweed through them, checking that it was in good condition and that he couldn't feel anything abnormal along. It wouldn't do to accidentally pull up a seaweed cluster that had eggs laid on its surface. He didn't want to disturb the ecosystem here, so he left all fish eggs alone and would need to make sure he didn't always pick his food from the same place. If he did he'd end up either stunting the growth of the plant life there, or affecting the fish population, by picking off their breeding ground and destroying their homes.

Spider made sure to leave the roots behind so that the seaweed could grow again, as he ripped out a cluster and swam to the surface. 

He grimaced at the seaweed in his hands. It looked rather slimy and disgusting especially now out of the water, sticking to his skin, and feeling rather like being covered in some sort of goo. But he needed food he wouldn't need to cook, and unfortunately he didn't know the fruits of Awa'atlu. One wrong dinner could take his life, paralyze him, or set him on some slow and painful path to death. He would need guidance from Norm or Max about what he could eat if he wanted to stay here with the Sullys. 

Seaweed was a safe choice. No fire needed, no preparation. It could be eaten as it was, or he could dry it out in the sun so it'd be crunchy. 

Spider longed for the community cookfires. But he knew he wasn't welcome. Not that he could eat any of the Na'vi foods there anyway, since most things Na'vi used as simple seasonings were especially dangerous to his human body. 

Spider kneeled on the sand. He sighed looking at what he was about to eat. It seemed a poor excuse for a meal, but his stomach seemed ravenous. Practically screaming in hunger. What Tonowari had fed him had not sated him for long, although he did seem more tired and hungry today than he'd thought he would. As if the energy and nutrition had already been spent on something. 

He took a deep breath, pushed his mask up off his face, and took a bite. Eating with his rebreather really sucked. He couldn't afford to let much Pandoran air in with each bite, so he had to keep his lips tightly together and push the food in, without opening his mouth properly for bites. It was the safest way; but made him look like a starving loon, shoving in food; too hungry to function normally.

The taste was revolting. Like a fish that had been dunked in some mud and then had a mineral salt rubbed on it. The salty aftertaste wasn't as bad, but the taste of actually having the thing in his mouth was terrible. It was even worsened by the texture. Swallowing down a chunk of the seaweed felt like swallowing a small fish whole. Slimy and rather unappealing. 

The second bite was just as bad, only now his brain seemed focused on how chewing it felt like chewing wet paper. The seaweed didn't break into chunks or bite-sized pieces but rather clung to itself and formed into a weird clumpy texture. Spider forcibly swallowed it anyway. 

He wondered if maybe the larger, rubbery seaweed would actually be more worth it. 

He forced down as much as he could. Occasionally gagging, and constantly having to put on his rebreather before taking it off again. The only good part of the mask was that retching inside of it was far less appealing, and definitely kept him more motivated to not throw up.

Slowly, as he devoured more and more the ache in his gut lessened to a dull feeling that he'd at that point gotten rather used to. He could almost fool himself into thinking it was normal. Once he'd eaten everything, he returned to the water and gurgled with the seawater. The strange salty taste was better than the seaweed. Believe it or not, however, Spider had a strange taste for food, and could actually see himself enjoying the seaweed eventually. It might require some spices and a smoking, but still. It could be improved upon. 

He spotted an especially sharp shell on the beach, and without a second thought, he dove in for more. 

He could dry it. Maybe it would taste better. And if he didn't want to be looking for food daily, he'd need to gather it more efficiently. He cut through the thicker seaweed, collecting two long pieces, and then two new clumps of the one he'd just eaten.

Then with them firmly in his grasp, Spider swam over to his place on the beach next to the Sully Marui. He left the seaweed there, before diving back in. For an hour Spider searched the waters for a bigger flat rock he could cut and dry the seaweed on. 

It was easy to get distracted in the water. Every small fish seemed unique. Some of them swim in pairs, others alone. He even saw a few shoals of blue fish that darted about in movement, always perfectly calculating which way their group would go, swimming in a twitchy unison. 

Everything in the water was so new and beautiful. The plants down a little deeper could glow bioluminescent even before nighttime, something plants in the forest didn't do. Spider guessed it was because less light got to some places of the sea, even if he wasn't that deep yet. 

He even came across a diving ilu, waving at it happily, before moving on.

He loved the plants that grew tall and wide, looking like trees that had purple trunks and green leaves that had pink tips to them. Only they didn't have leaves Spider found. It was rather an intricate, branch-like system where it kind of looked like those images Norm had shown him of the human nervous system. He briefly wondered if Na'vi's nerves looked the same and if these underwater trees emulated that. They were gorgeous, still in the water, only the flowy pink parts of the trees floating along with the current. 

He watched as a shoal of yellow fish moved beside him. They were tubular shaped with a long tail-like fin at their back that moved like a radio wave. They seemed to be following around a sort of 'queen' the same way Spider could remember being told earth bees did. The queen was larger, had two additional fins at her side, and had a beautiful pink sheen to her. The creatures seemed to have some sort of symbiosis with a blue heart-shaped fish that had a long neck and used it to swim instead of its wings. It chased off other fish from getting too close to the queen fish and then reaped the rewards of being able to just follow the yellow fish to a food source. 

The yellow fish constantly stopped to eat. They feasted on a type of tentacled plant, that seemed to grow hidden between large rocks, away from the sun. 

Spider liked following them, watching as they moved in the water with such grace. Their lives seemingly finding a great purpose in simply eating. It made Spider smile, no matter how different their lives were from his own. 

Did Kiri like these fish too? He wondered. He could see that she might, but that she'd probably have her favorite in the blue protector fish, that swam fast and stayed near those it belonged with. No matter if it was different from the other fish or not, it had a family with them. 

Maybe Kiri saw herself in it?

Swimming did exert Spider. Sometimes he'd stop and simply grab onto a rock to keep himself anchored. He didn't need to go up for air, so he didn't get breaks between swimming and the very human necessity of taking a breath. 

But it really was worth it. Every inch and edge of the ocean was alive. He could almost imagine Eywa having touched every surface here. How if she had a Na'vi body she might just float around in the ocean forever, eternally with her creations, only going where the current took her. 

On one of his breaks again, Spider did spot a rock that would fit his purpose. Moving it was another hurdle. It wasn't easy. The rock weighed a lot, far more than he'd expected and even if it didn't feel so heavy in the sea, it still tried to constantly sink to the bottom. Spider kept at it though, the rock only slipping his fingers a few times, causing him to go back diving down for it. Rolling it to the beach sucked. He had to keep it on its side so he could push it like a wheel. He found that he couldn't actually pick it up out of the ocean. Maybe a week back he could have. But now he was simply too exhausted to. 

The seaweed was still where he'd left it. Spider pushed his rock all the way next to the big boulder. Then he just lay in the sand, catching his breath, starfishing in the sun.

Chapter Text

The next day, Spider saw his wound was worse off. It was more pained and pink. In only a few moments he made himself a simple necklace of seashells to cover it. He had the shells in the middle be bigger, getting smaller off to the side, reaching all the way to the top of his shoulder's before the rest of it was just some string he'd found. He used simple shells, nothing extravagant, and made sure the knot at the back was burly and strong, not prone to breaking. Surprisingly the necklace didn't feel bad on the wound when it settled on his chest. He'd expected the thing to be heavy, but it really wasn't. The string the shells hung on was soft as clouds too, because he didn't feel the string on the back of his neck. 

Not seeing the cut anymore when he looked down was wonderful. He could almost forget it was there...

Spider tried to explore the jungle again. He'd just about made it to the clearing with the large yellow flowers when he'd been grabbed by his dreads at the top of his head. It was a rather violent grip. If he were Na'vi, he'd be held from the base of his kuru right about now. But the large Na'vi fingers settled on squeezing his dreads into a thick lump, forcing his head and face downwards as he was pushed to stumble into movement. 

A warrior was chastising him. Telling him he was to stay in the Marui. His voice kept fading in and out. Spider felt guilty. He knew he wasn't allowed here, but he'd come anyway. 

He never even saw a glimpse of who had grabbed him. It had been early morning, and with the sunrise on the horizon, the village was still asleep. Spider guessed whoever this Na'vi was had followed after him to the jungle on purpose to drag him back. And Spider couldn't fault him for it. 

Once they reached the village, the man left him with a hiss, forcing him to his knees on the path that would lead to the Sully Marui. Calling him a demon, reiterating that he was to stay in the Marui. Spider wasn't even sure if those were Tonowari's instructions anymore. Tonowari had told him that he was to prove himself. How could he do that if he was to stay out of sight and out of mind? No, Tonowari must not have intended for the Marui-only ban to stay in place. Even though there was no cold breeze, his body shook with tremors.

Still, he'd tried to be good and hardworking, not attempting to enter the jungle anymore and not going near the center of the village for good measure. Really, his domain now was mainly the sandy strip of beach next to the Sully Marui, the ocean around it, and the little cove where he'd collected seaweed to eat. That made the next three days harder for him.

He'd started catching fish for the Sully's. He'd begun the habit the day he'd made the healing tonic of the yellow flower in the jungle. While leaving the tonic at their doorstep he'd realized there were other ways he could help the family that he loved dearly. Providing food was a good way to start. Fish wasn't as good a nutritional gift as the bowls of hot stews that some of the village women were still bringing the Sullys, but still- Spider felt it was right to do nonetheless. Maybe Neytiri wanted to cook? He'd guessed she'd started to do so again, from the lovely scent of food that would drift to his place on the beach once night hit. 

It always brought water to his tongue, and he was almost able to taste the food from the strong smells. It only made his belly cave in and twinge with pain. 

The dried seaweed didn't taste as terrible. He could cut the thicker seaweed into swallow-sized pieces, so he didn't have to chew it. It tasted better, too. Like a meaty vegetable. Like if you crossed yerik /hexapede/ meat with broccoli, which Norm grew, then added a ton of salt that made Spider crave water like nothing else. Drying also removed the nasty feeling of swallowing it. More like dried fruit than sludge.

Still, he slowed and grew tired, feeling ill even in times when he wasn't necessarily hungry. Deficiencies in his diet were Spider's guess for his new state of living. 

Spider had carved out a few toys for Tuk too from bark. He wondered if she was already playing again. Or if her sadness kept her from entering the world of imagination in her own head. The toys had, at least, disappeared from where he'd left them. He hoped she had them, that they hadn't just accidentally fallen into the sea.

One day, he'd discreetly watched a few children weave nets nearby. He'd dived into the sea to quickly see how their mothers collected the seaweed for the nets. 

His own attempts at gathering the material went fine, but the weaving? Well, that didn't go so well. It turned out that the center of the seaweed was like a thorny stem that went along the full length of it. It had to be grasped tightly and bent while creating the knots and pattern of the net.

Na'vi skin was tough, especially that of the Metkayina, who began to weave these nets so young. Spider's, however, felt soft and brittle, the stem's thorns digging into his skin with every pull and knot. It was hard to ignore. They didn't go that deep, and not every thorn drew blood, so he could manage it. But after trying to learn for the first few hours, his fingers became too bloody to even properly keep hold of the seaweed. He couldn't even figure out a child's task. Children ten years younger were capable of weaving these nets. The thought nearly made him cry. 

But he'd struggled to keep up with the skills of the Omatikaya as well, and he'd never given up. He'd become a great hunter, could hold his own in most fights, and could gather things in the most pristine condition. He could re-learn all of it here too. He had to.

He noticed that the Metkayina had a place where they'd pile broken things. Spider guessed they'd be used later for firewood, but some baskets and the like could be fixed with very dexterous fingers. On a few occasions, he'd sneak something off of the pile, tinker with it till it was in good condition again, and then he'd leave it near a random Marui to be picked back up and used once more.

Sometimes he found miscellaneous items in the ocean. A child's toy, a spoon, a rock knife. He returned them to the village swiftly. He'd gather sticks along the beaches for firewood; leaving them at their designated spot by the edge of the jungle. He did anything he could to aid the clan. Well... Anything that didn't force him to interact with anyone or enter the more populated areas of Awa'atlu.

He wondered nearly constantly if this was what Tonowari had meant about him proving himself. Was he doing enough? Should he be reporting to someone for a list of chores? Would the Metkayina find him slow and clumsy in his attempts?

At night, he gathered a lot of extra seaweed, noting that after that he'd have to stop gathering it from the cove, lest he take them all. For two days, he dried them on the rock, returning in between other tasks he'd given himself to turn them. He'd even dried up a few of them in star and heart shapes. The smaller seaweed could be bent into fun shapes. He even managed to make one look like a tulkun. He weaved a small basket with a lid from the same seaweed, left it to dry in the sun, and suddenly he had a very pretty two-shaded green bowl to gather the fun-shaped dried seaweed in. He left it where he left everything else too: at the Sully Marui. 

He could almost imagine Tuk finding them, showing her mother, and asking them to be added to whatever they'd eat that night. Maybe she'd even smile. 

Making a few fun, dried seaweeds each day and taking them to the Sully's with the fish was added to his routine. He'd seen a glimpse of Kiri a few times now. Same as Lo'ak. She'd drag her brother to the sea late in the morning, and they'd disappear into it together. Sometimes, when Spider saw Kiri return home, she was alone. He wondered where Lo'ak went. Why Kiri didn't go with him? But it wasn't for him to know. 

The first time he saw Neytiri after the funeral, his chest constricted. The wound felt as if it were fresh, which didn't surprise him with how horribly it was healing. Yet still, he could tell most of the pain there was from the utter horror he felt seeing her. However far she might have been at that moment, he still felt like a cornered animal. 

He'd dived into the waves immediately, escaping the slightest chance she might turn around and spot him. 

By his third day of trying, he had managed to actually weave a fishing net. The holes were rather small. Too small, really. It left the net overly heavy and probably meant he'd wasted resources. But he'd managed to complete a full net. There was a giggle of joy in his chest that lodged in his throat and became a cough instead. 

For all of that morning, he'd been trying to catch fish. He ended up with far too much for just the Sully family. And finally, he braved his way to the center of the village. 

He'd squared his shoulders, trying to look like he belonged. Feeling like he didn't. He forced a small smile on his face; maybe it would make him seem less threatening. Only one older woman was sitting at the common cookfire. She was gutting a large fish to be cooked for the tribe. He'd looked at her gently, greeted her, and made his best attempts at not looking scary or like he was approaching her specifically.

The woman's thick, curly hair looked brittle. Like the ocean water had made it crackly with old age. She had many tattoos on her skin that had aged with her all her life, giving them a unique look. They were striking; a beautiful display of her life. She'd eyed him suspiciously and had even taken a small step back when he'd gotten too close for her to be comfortable. But after he'd placed his fish in the communal basket, she'd actually given him a nod. A sign of gratitude. 

Spider made sure in that moment to smile and nod back, trying to remember every detail of her. She was a safe one. If he wished to donate to the village's gatherings, he could do so when she was present. Now he retreated quickly, happy at his success in actually making a donation to the village. He'd done so often with the Omatikaya.

As he walked away, he felt a new sense of greatness. He'd made a first step with the clan. Whether the rest of them knew it or not. 

As a gift to himself, he spent the rest of the day in the sea.

Chapter Text

The sea was especially amazing that day. He saw new ilu's, even had the guts to reach out and gently pet one on the head. They didn't seem to have a predestined nervousness around humans the way that some animals in the forest did. After all, they weren't the target of sky people here the way that the tulkun were. 

They were peaceful and played in a way that made them look like they were dancing underwater. They even wrenched a few chuckles out of Spider. A genuine and true smile on his face for the first time in a while. He felt like the sea guided him. Taking him further and further from the land, showing him new plants and wonders along the way.

In the forest he'd had to work on the way he moved and walked, what noises he made; to ensure the animals would grow used to him and wouldn't spook at the first look. Here he was an unknown entity to everything in the water, and it seemed their default state was to trust. He was not feared in the ocean. He was simply a part of it. One of the creatures of Eywa finding his way through the currents. 

There was something breathtaking about the water. Spider was starting to feel dangerously at home in it. To the point that he didn't even want to go back on land. He wished he could live his whole life like the fish did. Whenever he saw a new interesting species he'd follow them around, marveling at them. Their beauty and utter perfection. Everything here seemed in constant movement. Ever changing, ever living. Utterly Eywa made. He felt a sense of loss that he wasn't experiencing this new world with Kiri. He'd been with the recombinants for so long. She must have already seen and searched through all of these places. Getting to know the home she was now settled in.

During her first swims, he must have been in that machine begging to be killed. 

Spider's body was so weightless in water. When he wanted to he could just grow still and let the ocean move him. It was such a lovely tune that the sea played in his ears. The sound of life, of watery movement. So calming and soothing.

The sun was beginning to constantly burn on his skin. The old nickname 'pink' came to mind when he'd look at his arms, tender and hurt by the beautiful rays. 

He wondered if his skin would burn less or more in the ocean. The day before he'd noticed the top surface of his shoulders peeling. It had looked rather disgusting, and he'd rubbed at his skin; as painful as it was to get all the peeling skin off. In the water nothing really touched his skin though, other than the cooling water. And the everlasting ache of it lessened, fully disappearing when he was especially focused. 

At some point for a reason even he couldn't explain, he'd begun to greet some of the animals of the sea. Especially those that seemed to be more curious about him; like the ilus and the aquatic otters. 

He'd even played with an otter. Spinning around with it in the water, repeating swimming patterns it would do, and repeating noises. 

Everything here was kind to him.

Through his time here at Awa'atlu he'd begun to think of the sea differently too. Like it was a living, moving thing, going through life the same as him. Giving a home to millions of creatures and billions of living plants. Changing with age, living through storms and massive waves. It was a kind thing that could be stormy and deadly should it want to. Spider had not faced a storm here yet. He wondered if it would be a beautiful sight, or if he'd simply be afraid.

He'd felt such fear in the sea during the battle. When he'd first gotten to the beach after, Neteyam with them; dead and growing cold; he'd never wanted to go into the sea again. But somehow the lonely beach was worse. And the sea greeted him as a friend whenever he dove into it. 

He'd fallen in love. 

He felt like he was a child of Eywa in the water. It was easier to live here than on land. At least while he was alone. There was no one to compete with for speed or agility. No questioning his stature or strength. The sea didn't need his strength, it had enough of it on its own. He could just exist here. It was as if each breath he took was given by Eywa herself. 

That night he returned from his dive just before nightfall, so he could catch the sunset burn up the sky; he spoke to the sea for the first time. He wasn't even sure why. It just felt right. He found his voice was a little unsure and raspy. Unused a while now: "Irayo tìhawnu fì lor trr." /Thank you for (your) protection on this beautiful day/ Spider smiled towards the sunset, the colors reflecting off of the surface of the ocean. It was so captivating. So glaringly beautiful it always seemed to take his thoughts away with it. He kept his legs outwards, his ankles still in the ocean, digging his heels into the sand. 

The first thing he did the next morning was sit up to his knees and look down at the water at his reflection. His heart felt so sad. His whole body was tired.

He washed his face with ocean water and then stared at himself through the ripples of the surface. One of his dreads fell over his forehead and touched the water, creating little waves of its own. Maybe he could relieve his heartache to the sea.

"Oe 'efu fìtxan le'awtu:" /i feel so lonely/ he whispered this little secret to the sea. Watched as the ocean retracted, and then returned with another wave to the shore, gently reaching out and touching his knees. He watched the ocean's edge withdraw and return a few times more, before beginning another day.

He fished. He gathered. He made another toy. One that could be played with in shallow water. It was his very first invention. Or at least he thought so. He was sure Norm and Max would think it wasn't important enough to be labeled as such, but Spider was proud. And to him, that was an increasingly rare feeling. The toy stood on three long legs, a wheel with little notches on it, on each of the legs, all close to one another, but pointing in different directions. There was a funnel at the top where the tree legs met, and if you poured water in, it would flow through the wheels, making them spin, spewing water in all three directions. It was small, not even up to Spider's knees, but he could imagine that if Na'vi kids sat around it, they could make a game out of trying not to get hit with the water. 

He'd had the idea yesterday when swimming. When he'd seen a plant that grew in clumps of three and spewed a pink liquid that a small species of fish ate and used as cover; while essentially all other fish stayed away from it. They'd dodge the liquid and move far from it. Spider guessed that the small fish species had evolved alongside the plant to benefit from one another and that the pink liquid was in some way toxic to other fish, warding them off. Other fish still tested the boundary, sometimes darting in to try to eat the little fish in one bite, always having to suddenly turn and flee before they reached their meal. It kind of looked like a game. And thus Spider got his idea. 

He'd discovered two other places where the seaweed he'd been eating was growing. He kept harvesting it, but not for himself. His diet had been upended once again.

The roots that were the main source of nutrition to him now seemed an even worse nutritional source. Biting into them was like biting into a carrot. The outside was a little too soft, his teeth sinking through it quickly, only to struggle to bite through the core. He also couldn't avoid gulping in Pandoran air when he ate it. But he wanted to keep making his seaweed shapes for Tuk each day, and the roots were the price of that. He didn't know if the Sully's were even the seaweed. But thinking of Tuk liking the seaweed ilu from two days ago, or the yerik-shaped /hexapede/ one from yesterday just made a rare true joy blossom in his heart. 

He fished again with his net. Only this time he decided to no longer fish like a toddler. He looped his fingers into the holes of the net and swam with the net on his back like a strange cape. He swam to a rock that breached the surface. It was away from the main village, but still close enough to the beach for him to haul his catch in. 

He threw in the net many times, missing fish constantly. But he kept trying. 

He learned how the impact of the net hitting water scared off fish that were too fast to catch. How deep the fish could be before the net simply didn't reach the fleeing fish on time no matter how he'd throw it. He tried to time himself, tried to go for bigger fish instead of schools of fish that worked in unison, and noted his shadow made an impact too. 

Observation was a key trait in Spider. 

Eventually, a fish that looked familiar for some reason caught his eye. The ocean splashed around it, water flying on Spider. It seemed too big to be a smart catch, and yet Spider went for it anyway. He angled himself in a way that his shadow wouldn't spook it when he threw the net. He watched, baiting his time. 

The fish had a silvery sheen to it. It was oval-shaped and plump, clearly a prey fish with lots of meat. Its back was long and very thin just before the fin. Stripes ran down its sides, long and thick with a blue color when the sun hit them. It had quite large eyes and for some reason, it swam right up to the rock. The waves hitting the rock sounded like a song.

The fish was beautiful.

It would feed the whole clan tonight.

Spider prepared himself, almost felt as if the ocean told him when, and threw the net.

He moved fast to kill it. Quickly from the top of the head so as to not inflict panic or pain. He began to pray: "Oel ngati kameie, ma tsmukan, ulte ngaru seiyi irayo. Ngari hu Eywa salew tirea, tokx 'ì'awn slu Na'viyä hapxì." /i see you brother, and i thank you. your spirit will run with Eywa, while your body will remain and become part of the people/ A clean kill. A good kill. One that you did not need to feel grief or shame over. A kill Eywa understood. 

Spider lowered himself back into the water, and spoke words of thanks to his beloved ocean, just as he had to Eywa.

Getting the fish to the beach was harder than catching it. Spider had to deal with the net trying to constantly sink with the fish, and fighting not to let it slip out of his fingers. The thing was ten times heavier than he'd thought. He'd been estimating the weight of things all wrong lately. Once he'd hauled the fish on the beach and laid it on its side he could see he'd underestimated the size of the creature. It was nearly as tall as he was. The journey to the cookfire was not any easier.

Spider had to rip two holes into his net and loop his arms through them. Leaving the net to kind of look like a backpack, with the fish tightly secured to him. He could feel the backfin of the fish dragging on the ground behind him, leaving an obvious trail to follow. 

The thing was heavy as a boulder!

The older woman from before was there when Spider arrived. So were a few others. A younger woman clearly mated already based on the baby she had in her prrsmung. /Na'vi baby carrier (a type of body wrap Na'vi use to put babies in to do chores and move with their baby)/ A man was turning a meat spinner over the main fire sitting close to the woman. They were holding each other's hands, while the woman hummed for the baby, and filled gauged out fish skins with some kind of vegetable paste.

The old woman was where she'd been before, by the community basket, standing by a table, gutting out fish, and using a blade to remove scales from the skins. All the fish she was dealing with today were small, and based on how high the communal basket was hanging today, it did not have much weight to it. Today the communal fire's food would be lithe. It looked like Spider had arrived at exactly the right time.

He watched as the woman turned her eyes on him, curious, but not distrustful as she'd been before. 

He smiled, brought his fingers to his face, and moved his hand down with the respectful greeting that all Na'vi knew. 

"Tawtute!" /skyperson/ The younger woman from the fire suddenly yelled out. Spider had neglected to keep his eyes on her or the man, rather focused on staying in the older woman's favor. "Pelun nga fìtsenge?" /why you here/ She started getting up with her baby, but the man's hand landed on her shoulder as he got up at her behest. He was a good mate. He knew when a battle was to be his if one was to come to pass. She had the baby, thus she stayed down and he protected them. Were he wearing the prrsmung /Na'vi baby carrier/ then the roles would be reversed. "Nga kehe man fìtsenge!" /you do not belong here/

"Oeyä muntxa si lu eyawr:" /my mate is correct/ the man spoke with a clear tone. He however did not raise his voice as his mate did, simply having her back and strengthening her words of conviction.

Spider looked shameful, he took a step back. Unsure what to say. The man did not seem a warrior, so his almost blunt way of speaking to warriors would probably not work here... But he was protective of his mate. And there was little food today, hence the fish skin filling, a dish they also had in the forest, that was notoriously made of scrap food and was disliked by most. This man would want better food for his mate.

"Oe zamunge syuve:" /i bring food/ Spider spoke, he directed his words to the male Na'vi, before repeating his quick respectful gesture of greeting to both the man and his mate. This seemed to catch them off guard.

"Oel ngati kameie, tawtute." /i see you, skyperson/ The old woman suddenly speaks. All eyes snap her way. Spider stares, surprised.

He rushed to repeat her words back to her; a sort of quiet gratefulness filling him. A Na'vi had never outright said it to him first. Such acts of respectful greeting had always been initiated by him. 

The woman smiles: "Tung poan wìntxu." /allow him to show/ "Poan zamunge syuve fpi olo' sre."/he has brought in food for the clan before/ She gave an encouraging nod to Spider.

Spider logged off the net from around his shoulders, feeling it grate on his sunburnt shoulders. He must have looked ridiculous, hand shaking from the weight of the fish in the net before lowering it to the ground.

"Oh!" A sudden joyous gasp left the older woman. She suddenly looked at Spider, approaching rapidly with a toothed smile. Her hand landed on Spider's shoulders: "Flrr txanatan payoang!" /gentle (kind, tender) vivid fish/ 

Spider guessed that it was the name of the type of fish he'd caught. He expected some kindness in the behest of the fish being rather large, but not the woman whirling around, and excitedly exclaiming the name of the fish to the two Na'vi by the fire again, despite them being in the range of hearing already. 

"Fllr txanatan payoang?" /gentle vivid fish/ Spider rather dumbly repeated, clearly turning the name into a question with his tone. Spider watched as the woman with the baby got up as well, approaching with eyes wide, the male Na'vi outwardly smiling now. They came to look at the fish lying on the ground also. The younger woman slapped her hands together, before letting out a little joyous sound, grasping her mate by the arm.

"The gentle vivid fish is one of the most beloved fish in our clan." The older woman began to explain. She began to detangle the net from around the fish, the Na'vi male crouching down alongside her to help. "We also call it särangal payoang:" /a wish fish/ she explained as she finally freed the net from around the fish, to stare at it without obstruction. "It is believed that after times of hardship, Eywa will send a gentle vivid fish to give us hope, and to begin a short time of grateful calm during which the clan can recover. We have not seen one in..." The woman stopped to think.

"Two years:" the woman with the baby spoke. "Since the sky people returned and we grieved the fate of the Omatikaya having to face their wrath again."

Her ears were down, looking somber suddenly.

"Hey, hey. This is a good sign." The woman's mate spoke, standing up to lay a hand on her cheek: "A sign Eywa saw our pain and will relieve it so we can grow strong again. This fish is a sign of joy."

She smiled, grateful.

The woman lays her hand again on Spider's shoulder, his eyes returning to look into hers. The woman's eyes were the color of the blue seashell he'd found on the beach. They had a grey glimmer to them, maybe a sign of aging, or bad vision; Spider couldn't tell. "I am called Oìeetxo Te Folku've Wonix'ite:" /Oìeetxo Folku've (family name) Wonix's daughter/ she introduced herself. "Was this a clean kill?" 

Spider nodded.

Another smile was exchanged. 

Spider left the fish in the capable hands of Oìeetxo and departed. 

He didn't know what chaos that would cause for the next day.

Chapter Text

Spider had his first panic attack that night. He didn't know what was happening. Suddenly his chest felt like he couldn't breathe, his air coming in gasps like they didn't reach his lungs at all. His head grew dizzy and his mind hazy. A mixture of panic and anxiety intensified. All he could think of was his father. That reborn demon that had held him captive. How he'd saved him from the machine. How much that machine had hurt. It spun in his head and suddenly it was as if he was in it once again.

He'd not allowed himself to think about the time he was tortured since it happened. It seemed like a dark scar that pulsed at the back of his mind and wanted to be pried and prodded. He'd held it back in the same place as he did many other things: his fond feelings for his father. His time in captivity of the RDA, then being with the recombinants. How he'd despaired over the Sullys just abandoning him... How he'd never be able to admit to that feeling. There were simply things he didn't think of. Some he chose not to allow into his mind, and others he felt like his mind was forcibly trying to forget. 

Now worry about his growing hunger, and gulping a bit too much toxic Pandoran air while eating what little roots he had left caused it all to be free. Just rattling about in his head as if there never had even been a time when he didn't feel like this. 

He didn't know if his mind was somehow punishing him, or if he was doing it to himself.

Neteyam and Lo'ak should have left him on the boat to die. He should have been a tough enough kid to not need to be saved in the first place. He'd failed at the bare minimum, which had always been just to not die or get close to being killed preferably. Stay out of trouble was rule number one. But he had been slow, and weak and gotten himself captured. Now Neteyam was dead. It was all his fault. 

Why did he deserve to live when Neteyam was dead? Had Neytiri thought that too when she held the knife to his neck; so utterly prepared to send him to his death? He without a doubt would die for the Sullys, to save one of them or to make sure he wouldn't be able to betray them. He'd begged for death in that machine. That machine. Neteyam would never grow up. It was all Spider's fault. Spider's fault. Spider would see a tomorrow. Had already lived longer than Neteyam. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair! 

All his deficiencies climbed to the surface. Every cruel word that had been said to him about how the Sullys didn't care. How he was a fool to protect them and how they were gallivanting off somewhere, hiding away, not even giving him a second thought. The proof of it was here on Awa'atlu. The Sullys had been happy here until the unfair and sudden death of Neteyam. Before Spider came back. The Metkayina accepted them and loved them as their own. They knew their ways, their rites and songs. They'd settled and felt safe here. Had ate their fill daily, made friends, and played. Had finally been a family that Spider didn't plague. The family they'd been planned by Eywa to be. Without a demon's wistful gaze unwantedly coming from the corner of their home. One with a tinge of jealousy always in it. Hopeful and naive and so terribly jealous. 

He ripped off his rebreather, gasping in more of the toxic air.

What was he doing? Was he trying to die, or was he simply too out of it to realize he was killing himself? The sea's tide was not high tonight, but now it rose, rushing towards Spider, completely unnoticed by the boy. 

What was even the point of being here? He said to Tonowari he wanted to be with the Sullys but he really wasn't with the Sullys was he? Should he return to the forest again? Be a pain to Norm and Max. He was in the way there too, his only use really being in gathering, and looking after the base. Shit, he'd never told Norm and Max about the 4 am alarm that went off on its own in the morning if it wasn't turned off manually. Spider had always gotten up to do that. It must have scared the shit out of the scientist. Hell, with how poorly they knew the basics of their own home it might still be blaring. And the freezer upstairs had leaked. Spider was meant to fix the insulation in that. Had they noticed that? And he'd done the Na'vi rebreather recalibrations on his own too. Although it was highly unlikely any Na'vi were visiting the human base now... Had they kept collecting Na'vi food, or were they now entirely reliant on the food they were growing and researching? Norm hadn't gone out to collect food in his Avatar form for years now. That was Spider's role.

He didn't know how to move about in Pandora.

Maybe Spider should go back? Pick up his old tasks and spend his days in his room. Maybe not be such an annoying bother for once! It would be as lonely there as it is here. He'd still feel the same worries and pains. He'd still feel guilty, and punish himself by overworking. He could keep his days focused on serving others. Even if it was Norm and Max instead of the Sullys. 

But was Neteyams life a price he could pay back to someone else?

His mind reeled. He threw his mask off with an annoyed grunt. His hands came up to his dreads and ripped at them. He felt the skin on his skull yank and pull, uncomfortable enough to steel his thoughts for a moment. Panic intensified. A lock ripped from his head. He threw the dread towards the jungle, trying to scream but only a pathetic wheeze left him. The water was up to his waist. 

It lapped at his skin, soothed the aches of the sunburn, and moved fast and rushed, wholly unlike it had a moment ago. 

Spider looked at the sea. There were only glimmering stars above it now. His lack of air pained him. 

The machine spinning in his head slowed down. The sensation of his nose bleeding like a ghostly image in his mind. 

The sea was beautiful tonight. It glimmered and settled him. His head drooped. His jaw came to his chest on top of the scar Neytiri left. Neytiri.

He'd stolen the days on this planet her son was meant to live. He'd stolen her vengeance by saving his father. He'd left her family in danger once again. He'd been with the people hunting her for months- even enjoying his time with them on occasion. Caring for a monster. 

He had debts to pay. His body slumped forward. Eyes blurring. He watched the water below his face. Tried to speak to the sea, but no air meant no sound. 

The current shifted, sweeping towards the land so high it reached his shoulders. And then changing direction and rushing right back at him. Something was in his vision now. Floating at the top of the sea, right below his face. Black edges, a familiar shape. His rebreather. 

His chest lurched, and he threw up the little food he had in him. Taste of acidic death in his mouth.

Spider would never know if he made the conscious choice in that moment to live, or if his fingers simply completed the action that was so familiar to him. He pressed the mask to his face. Allowed air to flood in. His lungs made a pathetic wheezing sound, and he felt a rattle in his chest at the first breath.

The sea retreated. Settling back to where it belonged. 

The floors of the lowest Maruis had flooded a little. No matter. The sea was a sensational thing. 

Spider, with slow breaths returning his life to him, promptly passed out on the beach in his spot. His place. After all, the pet that one parent hadn't wanted- lived outside.

Chapter Text

The next morning he woke early. He simply lay there. Listening to the ocean. He felt it touch his ankles, submerged in the water. The sun hadn't risen yet, but its early rays had already made the blue of the sky look a little lighter than nighttime. The sea called to him. "Syawn rewon txampay:" /blessed morning (to the) sea/ Spider murmured. He moved his hand in a slow dash through the water. It almost looked like the sea tried to climb up his wrist a little. What strange movements the sea could create. 

His head hurt. He brought a hand up to it, pushing his fingers past dreads that were more matts than anything now. At the side of his head he felt a spot where a lock should be, but just simply wasn't. He seethed at the uncomfortable sensation of touching the tender skin there. He'd ripped out a lock. Great. He was officially crazy now. 

His hunger pains kept him from caring though. 

A small wave brought a clump of familiar seaweed ashore not even a step beside him. It would do. Spider ate ravenously. Trying not to inhale air was thankfully much easier with the seaweed than the roots. He'd still rather eat it dried, but beggars and starving men can't afford to be choosers. Or whatever Norm always said. 

He knew eating seaweed and roots wasn't a long-term solution. Maybe if he had his own Marui he'd be doing better as then he could have his own home fire to cook fish. But alas. He'd need Norm's plant scanning device that could tell him what he could and could not eat here. Asking for Norm meant approaching Jake. Spider didn't want to do that. For the first time in his life from as soon as he'd met Jake he really didn't want to see him. In fact, it kind of terrified him. What was he supposed to say? Or do? 

How do you speak to a father who lost a son? How would Spider dare to ask for something from Jake? He couldn't.

"You are so beautiful," Spider said to the sea. He looked to the horizon. The first peak of the sun was visible. "Please carry me somewhere beautiful for a rest today."

He walked into the ocean. Ah the loving hold of the water around him relieved his pains once more. 

Spider's head cleared. There was a gush of a current that twirled around and dodged reefs and animals alike. Spider simply allowed it to sweep him away.

He needed to stay. Even if he wasn't with the Sullys he'd be here for them. A provider of food and whatever else helpful he could make. A body to be shot down on a battlefield when the time came to fight once more. Someone who could act as a distraction. Someone who knew more about these new humans of this second invasion. He'd been on the inside. His father had been so certain he'd never get away that they hadn't worried about him seeing most things. Search and battle plans. Where the skypeople wanted to spread. Things like that. Something Spider had noticed was that the humans weren't planning proper moves until the next year. They'd only been back two years. Maybe they simply weren't strong enough yet. 

The machine was locked up at the back of his mind again, as were his positive emotions toward Quaritch. He'd been oddly rewired last night. 

All along the current Spider complimented the sea. Awed by its beauty and its flowing movement. He had no connection to Eywa the way that Na'vi did, so he spoke his emotion and gratefulness out loud. In the sea, he could almost imagine feeling Eywa. As if some things he'd see and hear here were made to be there for him too. He wondered if Na'vi always felt this way. This divine feeling of being right where they were made to be. His mask allowed his voice to be clear and sincere. The current took him farther than he'd expected it to. Eventually, it stopped, plummeting him a little deeper down. There was a clearing at the bottom of the sea there. 

White sand stretched between the coral reefs. Beautiful and almost out of place here. Usually, the sea was thick with life; plants, and corals in every inch but there was a place reserved for something here. Spider spotted just the white-brown creature first. It had blue dotting on its shell. A round, small thing that was half buried in the sand, digging through it. It moved steady and sure, two fins at the front moving the sand to create a path. The path followed along its movements, leaving a sunken trail in the sand. A spiraled pattern; a perfect circle tightening smaller towards the middle was being left in the creature's wake. It was working hard, and diligently at this job that it was the best at. But what for?

Another one of the same creatures appeared. Only this one was gray as rocks, with blue stripes on its shell. This one had bigger fins at the front. And it kind of looked like it was carrying a rock. It waved its fins to keep the rock afloat with the movement of the water, slowly moving it, bringing it to the circle. With careful maneuvers, it made sure not to disturb the spiral pattern the other one had made. Blending to its surroundings while fetching the carefully selected rock, and then allowing it to float down, on top of the marks on the ground, only a foot away from a similar rock. 

Ah, so they were making a home together. One that had an art installation. The thought made Spider chuckle. 

He floated in the sea, watching as they worked in tandem. One blending to the sand while making its spiral, the other fetching rocks and decorating along it. It was a masterpiece in the making. But what was the reason for its existence? What did the two fish get out of it? Was this how they courted? Did it have an evolutionary benefit? Was it a trail to follow home? Or something that would ward off predators like the pink liquid of the plant Spider had seen before? 

After a third rock was laid down, once again perfectly spaced from the previous one, the white-digging fish stopped. It was also perfectly spaced away from the previous rock. It was now where the next rock would go. Spider watched in confusion as the other fish swam over and lay on top of the white one. Together they looked like just another rock in the spiral. Using each other as camouflage. Protecting each other. Perhaps once the circle was done, the duty of camouflaging moved onto the white fish to lay down on the gray one, so as to not break the pattern of the rocks. 

Spider smiled. These fish had the evolutionary benefit of their coloring for this task, but the task itself did not benefit them one way or another. The spirals and the rocks had to have come before the colors of the fish evolved, which meant they'd been doing this for far longer than it was sensible for survival. 

They were doing this for fun. 

To bond. To be together. In some way, they were sentient.

He stayed to watch as the fish got to work again. Every five rocks they'd take a break. 

Spider did not notice the passing of time. Not even the change in temperature, too mesmerized by this ritual of Pandora that he was witnessing. This Eywa-made beauty that allowed fish to create something so thoughtful. For no reason at all. There was no grander purpose at play. Just two fish, creating something for their home. 

He watched for so long that he saw the last rock dropped. The fish swam in a circle around the spiral once, twice, three times, before turning in direction and repeating it. Then they swam off. Spider followed. They moved as a unit, sometimes bumping into one another in a way that looked intentional. They were searching for something. 

They arrived at a large spiraled, triangle-shaped shell, that had an opening at the wide bottom. They swam inside it, flitted around it, and then to Spider's amazement began to move it. This shell was at least seven times the size of these fish together and yet they figured it out. The white fish swam inside the shell and began pushing it toward the circle half in the sand. The grey fish stayed on the outside and began waving its fins, creating enough movement to lift up the back of the shell, taking weight off of the white fish.

Just like that they moved in unison. Their roles in life were so different. One dug, one made rocks float in the water. And yet there they were, living and thriving together. They were one. 

At the Spiral they separated. The white fish made its way to the center of the spiral and started digging a deeper circle there. The white fish began exerting itself just as much, but managing to move the shell on its own, not allowing it to lower onto the carefully crafted patterns in the sand. 

It was like a final test after everything else was done. It took them a while, but eventually, the shell was in the center of the circle, slotted into the deeper grooves the white fish had made for stability. They nudged it in deep enough to hold, but not so deep as to cover the entry hole, that Spider watched the creatures retreat to for a well-deserved rest. Their work was done. Their home finished. Utterly beautiful, slowly crafted, every detail thought and shared between the two without as much as a word. 

"What marvels you create:" Spider fondly murmured. He'd been so silent while watching, enraptured by this creation of Eywa and her sea.

The current pulled Spider away. 

On the way, Spider deviated from the path. He had not caught fish for the Sullys today. He'd seen these strange spikey-looking things in the community basket before. They moved on their dull spikes, rolling around slowly on the sea floor. They could live out of water well too, that much Spider knew, but whether or not the Sullys would like the flavor- he wasn't quite sure. It was better than not bringing them food however so Spider grabbed a few. Holding them by the spikes between his fingers. They were easy to grab, easy to carry, and probably the simplest chore Spider had had in a while. 

Chapter Text

Kiri! Kiri.

Spider's heart stuttered to a standstill. Kiri was in the water. At some point the current had picked Spider back up again, returning him closer to Awa'atlu. And there she was. Swimming with fish surrounding her. Some followed her movements precisely, others circled around her. Occasionally bumping onto her legs or arms. A nudge to say hello.

She was utterly at home it seemed. Her gaze was sad and worried, drifting over the sea, sometimes stopping on one creature or another. Her head slowly turned towards him. 

Spider rushed behind a bed of coral. 

He was hiding from Kiri. 

WHY was he hiding from Kiri? He allowed his spiky sea creatures to drop to the sea floor, covering the spots on his mask that circulated air and allowed bubbles to drift toward the surface. She'd be able to tell it was him by the pattern in which the mask breathed. 

He stopped kicking his legs, sinking slowly downwards. Has she seen him? He couldn't be sure, not without risking a look. His heart was speedy. Thumping from fear or excitement. Longing maybe. Spider couldn't quite tell anymore. 

He waited quite literally with bated breath. Air couldn't leave the mask, so it couldn't take on more air either.

After a moment it was as if the sea poked him. Carefully he let go of his mask, allowing the bubbles to rise, his breathing returning to normal. He gathered his spiky things once more and began to swim low, belly almost on the ocean floor, calm and centered towards where he knew the beach was. Kiri seemed to be gone. He rejoiced from it.

Just some days back, even today really, he'd wished and wanted so fiercely that the Sullys would see him. That even just one of them would approach him. Ask him how he was. Check if he had food and warmth, two things he was lacking on that little strip of beach he now called his spot rather stubbornly. Maybe one of them would hug him. Ask him to go swimming. They could wonder if he'd made any friends or needed help learning about the village or the people here. Now that Kiri had been so close, and a part of her default state was to worry for him, he'd avoided her. 

Eywa knew it was self-punishment. Spider did not.

The Eywa creations of Awa'atlu seemed keen on Kiri, the little that Spider had seen. They loved her. That brought joy to him. She could be more than content here. She could be happy, thriving, peaceful. All things he'd wished for her a long time now. 

Spider's feet hit the sand, as he stood up from the sea. He walked to his spot and deposited his 'spikeys' as he now fondly thought of them onto a basket. He lifted his hands to his dreads squeezing out water, wincing where his hair already pulled on his skin. His hair was becoming an issue, and he didn't think the constant movement of the sea was helping with the tangles. Spider sat down, gingerly speaking to the ocean. Thanking, cajoling, muttering his praise. It no longer felt weird to do this. He'd rather speak to the sea, than no one at all. 

His body shivered, terribly cold suddenly. The sun was setting, disappearing once again in golden glimmers and promises of tomorrow. It would return with all its glory in the morning, just as it did every day. 

Spider looked toward the village. They'd left torches on for the night. Spider wondered why. For what he knew the feast for the flrr txanatan payoang /gentle vivid fish/ had been last night. There was no need for lights at the common cookfires tonight. Spider could hear distant yelling. Whatever they were saying he couldn't make out. Spider looked at the spikeys. He'd still need to deliver those today. He added his shaped, dried seaweed in with the pointy creatures. In today's batch, there was a seaweed cloud, a sun that looked more like a blob with random appendages; not his finest creation; and a tsurak /skimwing/ that miiiight have looked more like a sea monster. 

Spider picked up a shell he'd tossed to the sand. He'd found it in the sea today. He held it to his ear and was quite surprised by how it sounded. The sound of the sea deep within it, echoing and forlorn. He added it to the basket too. Maybe the Sullys would listen to it. Lo'ak at least would like it. Not that the boy would admit it; but he'd always loved music and singing. A fact Lo'ak had tried and failed to hide. At least from Spider.

A yawn escaped the human boy. Today he wasn't feeling the debilitating self-hatred and pain that curled him up in a little ball most nights and threatened to swallow him. Avoiding the sensation did seem to come at the cost of being very tired. He could already hear the sand calling his name for sleep. 

He grabbed his little basket and began his walk to the Sully Marui. The only annoying part of where his spot was located was that it was in the corner of the Sully Marui that lacked an entryway. He had to circle around a big group of Maruis all the way around to get onto one of the bouncy paths between the homes. His one advantage as a human was that he was easy to go unseen here with his stature. He was short enough to more than comfortably walk under the tree roots and the Maruis, unseen by all until he got on the common paths. On those, he moved diligently and lightened his steps. Na'vi here were used to the weight and pressure of the paths moving with a Na'vi's weight. Spider's weight was the same as an ilu resting its head on the path for a moment and then leaving. Not anything to turn to look at. 

Creeping slowly so as to not disturb the family Spider left his basket where he always did. Only no sound was coming from the Marui. No cracking fire, no smell of food. No hushed conversations in the night. The Sullys had either fallen asleep early and then their fire had gone out, or they weren't home. 

For a moment Spider wondered if they'd left without him, before shaking out the thought. 

What are the odds of that happening twice? Spider thought in a self-deprecating way. His shoulder slumped and a sad chuckle escaped his mouth.

On his way back the commotion at the cookfires caught his attention again. He noticed the torches were being carried, seeing one of them slip into the jungle in a fluid motion. Some torches were just stuck to the ground but at least two other Na'vi were carrying around the flames. One searching around the center of the village, and one further back along the edges of the Maruis. 

It seemed they were yelling out the same thing over and over. What a confusing habit. 

Perhaps it was a small event or a chant to Eywa. Not that that made any sense. Either way, he wasn't welcome. Curiously he still kept looking back towards the flickering flame lights. Spider's feet hit the sand, as he hopped off of the high woven paths. 

"Spider!" A voice suddenly called out frantic, angry. A hand quickly grabbed his arm and Spider twirled around to face this person, this familiar voice. He couldn't stop himself from breathing in a shaky bit of air, seething through his teeth at the ache of his sun-scalded flesh being held so tightly.

He looked up to see Jake's upset face. Brows furrowed meant anger, ears pointed back and low meant worry, and hissing teeth meant you'd fucked up. All these created a strange mix on his face now. Spider did not like that at all. Jake was holding a torch, now abandoning it by throwing it on the sand a ways off from them. 

"Sir," Spider replied, trying to pull his arm free discreetly, the man's grip only tightening at this. Mad and disappointed enough to not let go. Spider was screwed. 

His belly churned.

Jake looked past Spider: "He's here!" Immediately after his head snapped back down towards Spider. His pupils were blown wide. He hissed. Spider's eyes flashed at the sand under him. Had they found out something? Had they not known he'd stayed on the island after the funeral? Had something he'd brought to the Marui insulted them? Maybe he'd brought too little. Not contributed enough. "Where have you been?" Jake's voice wasn't cold at all. No, the amount of pure emotion flitting in his words could never come across as cold. He was furious, enraged, and something Spider didn't recognize: "Answer me when I speak to you, boy!"

"I was in the ocean." 

"In the ocean?" Jake repeated, upset, and disbelieving. His lips slightly parted, his feet shifting to stand stronger. 

"Yes, sir." 

"For how long?" It was clear there was a strain in Jake's voice; he was trying not to yell again. 

Spider felt confused, he could hear steps far away rushing toward them. Was he about to get banished by the clan? The Omatikaya blazed torches that one time Spider had seen them go through the rites. Spider never found out which crime the Na'vi male committed. By now he'd forgotten the name of the Na'vi too. Lost in time and memories. "Since this morning, sir I just came back," Spider replied.

"Your rebreather is it damaged?" Spider shook his head as a reply. "Spoken answers only!" Jake demanded.

"No, sir," Spider mumbled. Why would it be? He'd be dead if it was. 

Jake sucked in a breath. Spider's reaction being fear did not calm his ever beating heart. The boy stood there now. In front of him. Alive. Breathing. Looking like shit but alive. That was a start. A better one than the ending he thought he'd find for Spiders life. The torch, still slightly aflame on the sand, illuminated Spider's profile in an orange shade. The boy had little cuts and bruises littering him. 

Nothing too unusual for the energetic kid; but Jake still wished he could wipe them off of him.

He amassed quite the sunburn, and there was a strain in his eyes. He must have been very tired. But alive.

Normally that'd be enough. Now it wasn't.

Two voices running at them were calling Spider's name. 

Lo'ak's voice was the first Spider recognized from the people behind him: "Bro you scared us! Where the hell were you?" Lo'ak was ranting this and that at Spider, upset about Spider's apparent absence. Saying he'd been 'hiding' from them. Sure Spider had purposefully avoided Kiri earlier, but he was around. Approachable if one of the Sullys had really wanted to talk to him. Spider didn't understand what he'd done wrong.

"Enough Lo'ak!" Jake ordered, making a quick jerk with his head towards the sea. An order to go. But for what? Spider thought younger Na'vi weren't meant to be in the ocean this late without supervision. Too many predatory creatures awake in the water after sundown. 

Something slammed into him from behind, throwing him right up against an upset and unwavering Jake. Air left Spider with an audible exhale. Sobbing began. Another torch joined Jake's on the sand. Spider craned his neck to look behind him. Little Tuk who was not so little anymore; nearly Spider's height now; had run at Spider and thrown her arms around him carelessly. Starting to cry the second she had a tight grip on him. She had her cheek pressed to his upper back, her arms around him; locking Spider's hands to his sides. One of her palms pressed right under the cut on Spider's chest on the tender, red tissue there, her fingers jostling his shell necklase.

Quickly Spider threw a confused look at Jake and caught the sight of Lo'ak diving into the sea from his peripheral vision, torch in hand; flame going out when it hit the sea surface. Spider tried to push himself back after detangling his arms from Tuk's restraining grip. He pushed at Jake's arms, but the man did not move. Tuk's weight at his back made it a rather lost cause. He was trapped between the two Na'vi, confused and too tired to start solving what had happened to make Tuk cry so gut-wrenchingly. 

"Tuk what's wrong?" He asked, twisting his torso, biting his teeth together to not groan at the chafing of his burnt skin against the people who were far too close to comfort. His skin would definitely peel tomorrow. Tuk's salty tears burned against his back in a way the salty sea for some reason didn't. He wanted to whine at that too, tongue slightly between his teeth to not make a sound. He always held his tongue when Tuk hurt him. It just didn't make sense to upset the child needlessly when he could handle the hurt.

"We thought you'd died!" Tuk cried out. Spider's mind made a full stop. What?

Spider chuckled: "Why would I be dead?" 

"Laugh again boy and I will lock you up in a Marui for a week:" Jake spoke darkly. Spider's hair stood on end. He didn't dare to look back at Jake, instead awkwardly bending his arm to wipe off tears from Tuk's face. 

Spider cleverly side-stepped to get a little further from Jake, and turned more towards Tuk. Jake's grip on his arm did not relent. He was left awkwardly twisted. "I'm sorry I scared you Tuk-tuk."

Tuk only cried more. 

Spider could hear splashing in the sea, and then: "It's not only her you scared!" Kiri's voice was like a banshee, seemingly only capable of that one sensible sentence before she simply reduced to screaming obscenities. He was about the get the yelling of his life from her. He gulped audibly at that.

Good thing he'd already digested his seaweed from that morning. Otherwise, he might have lost his meal at the sight of a furious Kiri storming toward him, sand going flying under her determined steps. Hair just a blur behind her, eyes zeroed in, bloodshot, and for the first time ever: terrifying. "You careless, reckless, unthoughtful, skxawan! I am so angry at you I am going to-" /moron/ Kiri's speech turned to cuss words again.

Lo'ak was rising from the water too, only he just looked relieved and terribly tired now. Whatever anger and annoyance he'd felt before had bled out by now. Or maybe he knew Kiri's anger could carry his own upset across just as well. He was still holding the wet piece of wood that used to be ablaze. Was he so out of it he just didn't think to discard it? He looked like he'd not slept at all last night.

Kiri suddenly stopped halfway to Spider, her final screams quieting, turning into her just standing there, whispering out angrily. Her tail whipped about quickly, making audible slashing noises through the air. Normally her tail went left to right, a continuous pattern that changed more in speed than direction. Now her tail was like a contorting snake. Flicking every which way like a whip, curling and seizing in the air behind her, sometimes so out of control it slapped her own skin up her arms or around her legs; the tip of her tail throwing around drops of water.

Spider stared, unsure. Oddly horrified. Was she possessed? By Eywa he was ready to go to sleep and end this wretched night: "Kiri I-" Spider attempted to speak to her, but her whispering started sounding more like a continuous hissing, rising in volume as he spoke, and lowering back down to near silence when he couldn't figure out what to say to her. It went so quiet he wasn't sure if she even was making a sound anymore, but her lips kept moving. Her fingers curled but not into fists, rather they were reached out like the branches of a tree, curling and straightening in a creepy way.

Lo'ak reached his sister. He'd walked at a much calmer pace. He tried going to her side but got smacked by the girl's tail so roughly there was an audible slap of skin. Yelping the boy moved away, looking at Kiri offended, and rubbed his side. He said something. Spider didn't hear.

Spider was zoned out but knew Jake was speaking. He'd told Kiri to stop her approach and she'd actually listened. He could recognize Jake's ordering tone, and his hands moving, gesturing about, not in a calm please go home way, but the way that a general sends his soldiers off of a battlefield to go rest.

Spider didn't get out of his head until he saw Kiri's tail stop. Lo'ak had managed to grab it.

Jake's voice was comforting but firm with his daughters: "Take Tuk and Lo'ak with you, I need to speak to your brother."

Way to contradict himself. Spider thought. His mind was quite muddled, everything was overwhelming. Ordering Lo'ak home while saying he needed to speak to his son. Jake only had one son now; Lo'ak. Perhaps it was a slip of the tongue? A calling out to a ghost of Neteyam that wasn't there anymore. Spider's face cringed at that, he could imagine how that'd feel to Lo'ak if it was the case.

Today was a senseless day Spider decided. 

Tuk was whining, telling Jake she didn't want to go. She wasn't sleepy, she wanted to take Spider back to the Marui and sleep next to him. But Jake wasn't having any of it.

A moment passed. She stepped back, sniffling, looking rather sorry. Then she stared at him a minute before more tears welled up and she turned to walk away, sobbing again. Her breaths came in and out unevenly. She walked right up to Lo'ak and Kiri, and took hold of her sister's hand, seemingly not aware of Kiri's current state of mind.

Now the three were standing together in the sand, looking back at Spider, making their way home because Jake simply told them to. Unheard of. Had Neteyam's death made them obedient? Far too many emotions were flickering on the faces of the three kids. Spider didn't have the time or the eyesight in the impending darkness of the night to be able to read them. His observational skills seemed to be failing him. It was infuriating. And he really didn't want to be left alone with Jake.

Spider turned his eyes towards the sand.

Then there was silence. Spider could hear his own mask steadily hissing. Something he could easily tune out when he wanted to, so used to the sound by now. Jake's breathing too was audible. He was taking in longer, deeper breaths, calming himself.

The hand around Spider's arm shifted, rising up to his bicep; a thumb quickly and almost affectionately rubbing along the way. 

Jake jerked to movement, starting to walk away from the center of the village. He wasn't dragging Spider along, because the boy knew to lengthen his steps and hurried to keep up: "Sit on that rock." 

Spider did. He put one foot onto the side of the rock; the rough surface unnoticeable to his tough feet, and boosted himself up to the top of the rock. Sitting facing Jake, knowing it was expected. He could just spot the Sully Marui here. On the rock, he was just a little higher up than Jake, and it felt... odd. 

Jake looked at him, chin slightly tilted up, brows still furrowed. The man simply stared a moment before starting to walk back and forth in front of the rock. 

"Sir. The kids-" Spider started.

"Neytiri will look after them:" Jake brushed Spider's concern off before he could even finish his sentence about how upset his friends had seemed. "Don't worry about them, worry about how you respond to my questions. Because boy if you lie to me after all of this-" 

Spider shook his head, before remembering the earlier order: "Mr. Sully I don't know what's going on, but I won't lie." 

Jake's hand lifted up to his own head, running down his dreads. He didn't know where to start: "You brought a fish to the Metkayina midday yesterday. A big one. Yes?"

This was about the txanatan payoang? /vivid fish/ Spider nodded, then rushed to say yes.

"And after you brought the fish in where did you go?" 

"The beach, sir."

"Do not be smart with me boy!" Jake ordered, stopping in front of Spider to stare at him; his own tail whipping himself in the arm, just as Kiri's had.

Spider moved his hands to his knees: "I am not being smart, sir, I did go to the beach, just off to the side by this one boulder." What was this interrogation? Why did it matter where he'd gone? He'd caught a fish, brought it in for the clan, and somehow from there the Sullys had spiraled to thinking he was dead. Nothing added up. It's not like he walked up to the cookfires with a spear in his gut, or with a deadly wound or anything. Well... If you don't count the festering one on his chest, but the Sullys knew where that was from and that there was no need to worry about it. 

"And when night fell?" 

"I slept, sir." Spider couldn't look at Jake anymore. Should he cleverly mention that he slept outside? Would Jake make sure he'd get his own Marui then? One with a fire that would keep him warm. Surely Jake knew no accommodations had been made to the alien tawtute /human-skyperson/ and even if he didn't did Spider really deserve one? He aimed to give to the Sullys to show regret and atone for his sin of saving his father. And to give to the Metkayina to prove he was worthy of staying here, near the Sullys. Even if he would always be a family pet outside looking in. Taking recourses and getting a Marui for just one person would only add to the list of things he owed. It would make things easier for him when the aim was to make his own way. Carry his own weight and then some. 

Jake repeated his name three times before his head snapped back up to attention: "Sorry, sir."

The man sighed. His hand, palm open ran down his face in annoyance, stopping briefly to rub at his tired eyes. "I asked you about this morning. What did you do?"

Spider adjusted how he was sitting on the rock: "I woke up really early, and I went swimming, sir. I did nothing before I left. I doubt anyone else was awake yet." 

"Well, we were because we didn't sleep Spider!" Jake's voice rose again, angry, frustration simply building up. By Eywa he was tired. Spider looked as ready to go to sleep as he did. He seemed so small on that rock. Maybe smaller than before? Had he lost weight? Maybe the RDA wasn't giving as good nutrition as Spider had gotten from the forest all his life. The boy was so sunburnt too. He'd have to figure out what to do about that tomorrow. He'd never heard of a Na'vi dealing with said issue. But maybe Ronal had as a healer of a tropical ocean clan. There certainly wasn't too much shade here.

Spider was nervous too. Was it because he was lying or because he was uncomfortable with Jake? He seemed sincere, and he had no reason to be fidgety around him so it had to be something else. Maybe he was just shaking from the tiredness? However, that didn't make sense either with how opposed Spider was to showing weakness. The boy had been tired in the past and hadn't shaken then. The cold maybe? And nervous due to the brash questioning Jake was giving him. 

Jake kept walking back and forth. When had Spider began to wear a necklace? Especially such a thick one? It covered up a lot of his upper chest. It was nice though. Made of a cluster of seashells. Maybe he was getting used to this place? That was a pleasing thought. 

Finally, Spider spoke first: "Is that a broken rebreather, sir?" There the boy goes with the 'sir'- thing again. It brought a rancid taste to Jake's mouth. He hated hearing it. He'd treated Lo'ak and Neteyam like a squadron so he'd they'd called him that. Jake had never noticed before that Spider had picked up the habit as well. Of course, he had. Whenever his kids were near Spider wasn't far behind. Spider learned by watching, and could do everything his children could. Knew their family dynamics by being present at every turning point it seemed. Spider being a rather devoted and determined Na'vi-only speaker had even started mixing Na'vi and English like Lo'ak at some point, which had thrown everyone off for a while. Years of the boy absolutely refusing to even greet anyone in English, suddenly saying 'bro' like it was not the grand sin he'd made it seem like before. 

Jake's hands came to the mask hanging off the back of his knife sheath, untied it, and threw it up on the rock next to Spider.

"Tuk saw the fish you brought in and got curious. Oìeetxo told her it was from you so she went to search for you to hear the story of how you caught the thing. She found that instead." Jake hissed at the end. His finger accusatorily pointing at the mask, as if it was the most offensive thing he'd seen all his life.

Suddenly Spider understood. He picked up the rebreather, noting a tremor in his own fingers. The glass was roughly cracked, with pieces of glass missing from a corner. Had that happened to his own mask he would have died. No amount of pressing down on the crack or trying to seal it would have saved him. "She must have been really scared finding it:" Spider mumbled. He'd never doubted Tuk's care for him. When she'd been a baby Spider wasn't allowed near her. Neytiri kept her youngest close.

Once she was past her terrible twos, however, nothing could keep Tuk inside hometree. And her siblings were always with Spider so she got curious and tried to forcefully join their games, only for Spider to flee, in fear of breaking Neytiri's rule. Tuk had been the only Sully to chase Spider down. To all the others he had always been the one looking for company and friendship, showing up uninvited often, yearning for their closeness. There'd been countless nights where he worried if the Sully children actually liked him. To this day he wasn't always certain. But Tuk had loved him as soon as she could, and had been fierce in defying her mother in order to get what she wanted; which was to play with Spider.

"She was inconsolable." Jake's voice came out with a rushed crack. Covering his mouth for a second.

The seriousness of the situation began to fully dawn on Spider. It was horrifying. Tuk had just lost a brother. And then found certain evidence that Spider, a friend that she adored was dead too. And she was so so young, such pains not befitting someone her age.

"I put two and two together then. You were dead, no way you would have survived in Pandoran air. And the way the mask was cracked made us think something had happened. An animal maybe? It didn't matter, we went searching anyway. Although I'll tell you now what I didn't tell my kids; we were searching for your damn body. There was no hope in my mind, that you'd be alive. None. I let my kids search in the village, knowing if your body was there someone would have spotted it already. I didn't want them to find it. I went into the jungle, starting from where the mask was found:" Jake paused. "For fucks sake boy if you'd heard Kiri..." 

Spider's fingers tightened, accidentally clipping off more glass from the mask from how hard he was squeezing it, hearing the shard clink down the surface of the rock. His chest was tight again. There was no calm. 

"Kiri and Lo'ak are old enough to know what your mask being broken would mean. Tuk doesn't understand the seriousness of it. I tried to give them hope. Saying maybe you had a spare and whatever happened had you rushing to go get it. They didn't buy it, not properly at least. But I just couldn't tell them you were gone. Wasn't ready to face them realizing another brother was gone. Not after- after." Jake choked on his own words. No name needed to be said they were both thinking about Neteyam all the time anyway.

The fact that the Sullys had looked for him did make him feel a little better. His eyes searched for the Marui. By Eywa Kiri had been in the water searching for him. Thinking him dead, and he'd hidden for selfish reasons, leaving her there, prolonging her concern and worry. Her hurt. He'd hurt her. He was the monster casting a shadow.

Jake moved closer. He yanked something from a pouch tied to his tewng. /loincloth/ "I forced the kids to stop searching to eat, they had some of the fish you caught. Neytiri watched them to ensure they wouldn't run off to continue when I turned my back." Spider squeezed the item from the pouch in his fist. Whatever it was it was small enough for his hand to cover entirely. "I was going to make them go to bed by midnight, but right before that I found this at the edge of the jungle so close to our Marui it made me ill." Jake lifted his hand towards Spider.

Spider's heart stuttered. His anxiety peaked.

The hand opened, fingers unfurling and straightening. Jake; so strong and stable, had a shaky hand. On the man's palm rested a singular dread from Spider's own head. The one he'd torn out earlier that night in the middle of a panic attack and thrown in a frenzy.

"I-" Spider tried to start. He didn't know what to say. He just stared, horrified, nauseous again. His fingers reached to pick up the dread but Jake pulled it back. Securing it in his fist again and bringing it to his chest. While Jake had found that dread Spider had already been asleep 70 feet away behind a big rock, right on the edge of the sea. In his spot. Jake had been right by him, looking for his corpse. Oh, Eywa.

They didn't look at each other. Jake felt the urge to. Wanted to stare the kid down and make sure he'd never leave his vicinity again. But he needed to heal from the death of his eldest with his family, and Spider had disturbed their peace, just as Tuk had started to be... better. At least a little. Subtle changes that seemed promising. He needed to know what had happened. Needed an explanation so he could ensure it never happened again.

"Lo'ak, Kiri, and I didn't sleep. Tuk fell asleep in Lo'ak's arms too tired to continue sometime before sunrise. Kiri started looking in the ocean. I stayed in the jungle. This morning the Metkayina warriors helped with the search by the order of Tonowari. Half in the sea with Kiri, the other half with me. We scoured the reefs nearby. We left no corner of the jungle unchecked. You had disappeared as if to thin air. But you- you said you went swimming all day today. How come we didn't find you?"

"I swam far, sir."

Jake shook his head, angry again: "I said not to lie boy!"

"I'm not lying. Please you have to believe me, I just went really far." Spider's voice did show sincerity. Worry, crackling in the sentence. He was telling the truth, and he moved to sit on his knees on the rock so he could gently lean towards Jake. "I promise I went into the ocean as soon as I woke up, sir."

Jake shook his head. He believed Spider wasn't lying, but it just didn't add up: "You can not have been in the water more than a few minutes to maybe an hour earlier than the Metkayina. Are you trying to tell me you outswam a whole clan's most experienced swimmers? Na'vi that have six times your strength, twice your height, and decades of experience living in the water?"

Spider shook his head. No of course he hadn't done that. It would be impossible even with a headstart spanning multiple hours: "I didn't technically swim. I just entered the water, found a strong current and it carried me away."

Jake stopped mid-step: "The current? The ocean current? You just let it whisk you away on a little adventure?" Oh, the man was pissed.

"I- Yes I did, sir. Sorry, sir." He began to stare at his own knees again. The hand holding his dread fell to Jake's side; slack.

"You've done it before." It wasn't a question from Jake. It was a statement. He knew the answer already.

"Yes, sir." Spider felt himself flush red. This was embarrassing because suddenly he felt he'd done something severely stupid and was about to be told just how stupid it had been.

Jake nodded along, a disbelieving chuckle building in his chest: "You just; casually might I add, allowed a Pandoran ocean current, four times stronger than the currents of the earth; to just take you away because you felt like having fun? Is that it?" Jake rubbed a hand over his face, shaking his head slightly. The situation amounted to such a ridiculous height of anxiety for the man that he almost felt like bursting into laughter about it. How could the boy be so thoughtless? "Spider the currents on earth alone are known to drown able-bodied grown men. And you a 16-year-old have been playing around with forces of nature stronger than that as if it was nothing?"

Spider looked ashamed: "I didn't know currents were dangerous. I just thought they were an easy way to travel in the water..."

"The first thing they taught the kids when they entered the waters here was that you stay away from the currents! They could take you miles away in mere moments, sometimes with you disoriented and unaware of how far you were traveling during it! They are too strong to properly escape from unless you are a very experienced swimmer. Hell, I don't think I'd be strong enough to do so. It's lesson one for swimmers here!"

"Well, no one taught me the rules, sir:" Spider said with a sigh exasperated. "And I wasn't here to overhear anyone teach your kids like I normally would have been." His mouth snapped shut after that.

There it was: the first verbal mention ever about the fact that Spider was left out of the lessons the Sully kids got. That he'd had to sit at the sidelines, listening and watching while Jake taught Neteyam to make his first bow, and then try to recreate and learn the skill later... alone. The same pattern had continued all those years. The kids were taught to hunt, fish, gather, and give back to the clan. Spider would be taking it all in from a tree branch or sitting a ways off so as to not ruin the familial moment between Jake and one of the kids. And whenever Neytiri taught her children something the kids would then teach Spider. That was just because Spider didn't dare watch Neytiri the way he did Jake.

Learning to carve, and make arrows had left Spider with cuts and scrapes for weeks. But what did people expect, leaving a kid to learn such things alone?

Jake stared. His eyes softened. He had so many regrets and no way to fix them. A son for a son. He could teach things to Spider now? If he wanted to. Teach him the clean kill. How to scout areas, and how to read an Ikran's body language. /banshee/ He could have all those moments he'd had in the past with Lo'ak and Neteyam. 

He's so silent. He should reach out to Spider and apologize. Tell him he should have realized Spider wouldn't know such things. But no- maybe it was the worry that still thudded a bit too fast in his chest or his terrible pride that didn't allow it.

"The warriors searched far and wide. Did you even see the island from where you spent the day?" Jake asked, carefully avoiding the touchy subject that he hadn't fully digested yet. He had plans to be a bigger part of Spider's life. Have him as his son. He'd told Tonowari so as well. Spider was one of them, but Neytiri needed time to heal. And him being parental to the boy would make that harder. She'd be pissy about it, and he needed her alert and strong again, so their kids could recover as well. Spider would complicate that. But after; he'd make sure he was as active with Spider as he could be. Be a true father; a good one. Neytiri would come to see him the same way too... Eventually. Jake swallowed the rock in his throat that reminded him that his mate had already spent years in the boy's company and had not softened. 

"I have the rebreather so I don't have to breach the surface, sir. So I'm not sure how far I was, just that I was far." He didn't look at Jake saying that. It wouldn't calm the man, probably just make him more irate, but he'd promised not to lie: "I'm very safe in the sea." Spider said. 

"How did you get back?"

Spider was silent. It's not like he understood how currents worked. In his mind, one went from the beach to the sea, and another went from the sea to the beach. Easy and simple, no way of getting lost: "Sir I just swam back into the current and it brought me back."

He said it so calmly. It unnerved Jake. The boy could have died. The mask taken off by the fast rushing water, or an Akula charging to eat from the current and getting a human meal instead of a school of fish. Maybe the current would have taken him so far away they would have never seen him again. Simply found the mask and the dread and forever believed him dead. Here he was sitting, simply saying he swam into currents and got his way. It enraged him how casually he said it too. No biggie and a shrug of his shoulders.

Jake took a breath. Looked at Spider and began to deal out his punishment: "No swimming for two weeks." Spider started stammering against this, and Jake silenced him with a raised hand: "You are to show yourself in the morning and at night. I will be checking your dreads to make sure they aren't wet so don't think you can sneak off for another dalliance with a deadly current." Spider wanted to groan but also felt like he didn't have the right to object. He'd wanted to pay back his mistakes, now he was being punished. It made sense to accept his fate. But to be away from the sea. His one comfort. His dreads were notoriously slow to dry as well. Ten hours minimum in the air, and it was surprisingly humid here. "I will also inspect your mask daily. I'll comm Norm as soon as I am back at the Marui to bring you spares."

"That's not necessary-" Spider tried to interject.

"You are to do jobs for the village. Chores. A fish a day for the community basket." Now Spider was just nodding along. He was already doing a lot more than that for the village, not that he wanted to boast about that to Jake. He'd made two other nets within the last week, and brought them to the village in the dead of night, leaving them on the beach where they could be picked up by the fishers. He'd brought the community basket fish before, and all his donations to the Sullys added up to quite a lot of work. Was this Jake hinting he should be giving the same things to the village as he did the Sullys? He could do that. Already his chores took almost all of his time. He could squeeze in more though, from the time he spent scraping together gathering food for himself. He could get on by with a little less. 

"No smart-mouthing anyone. Offer help when you see someone needing it. Treat the clan well, and partake in aiding it. I am expecting you to be a productive member of society here, no gallivanting about playing all day like you did at the Omatikaya. Here you need to provide and carry your own weight. I am not the Olo'eyktan here, and I don't want you lazing about." Jake was stern and kept his voice steady and calm as he did when setting the standards with his own children. Usually, it was more: look after your siblings, don't take something from another's hand, don't call anyone a penisface, don't teach such words to the children of other families. 

Spider was just confused. Gallivanting? Playing all day? He was the one that dragged the Sully kids to do their chores back at hometree so he could contribute to what the clan needed alongside them. He brought fruit and herbs to the community basket. Took the painful job of collecting the rare favorite spineberry fruit from the flamingo orchids in the forest that spewed painful balls of seeds at any movement it detected.

After Mo'at's age started catching onto her and she'd had a tumble under rainy weather he'd started gathering the healing flora that she needed. Or at least the ones that were too dangerous for her to get. He'd taken the high leaps to catch fortune's fruit from the tallest trees which had juice that could allivate burns. He'd gathered the healing dapophet pods when the ones that grew around hometree needed time to spread again and the way to the nearest other cluster was over an hour's run away. He'd go out in the dead of night for crimson mushrooms growing atop the large roots and great vines of the forest, that were slippery in the night's dew. He contributed. He'd acted as though a part of the clan. Had Jake never seen this? Or was it his own ability to go undetected at hometree to avoid looks the reason all his work had gone unappreciated?

Spider may have been many things, but he'd certainly never been lazy.

"Yes, sir:" He still agreed anyway, his upset probably slightly visible on his face, no matter how he tried to cover it up. 

Jale simply kept looking at him: "I'll ask Ronal about something for your sunburn tomorrow. It looks bad." 

Spider readjusted himself, propping one knee up so he could nod and then lay his chin on top of it. He looked out to the blue sea. No swimming for two weeks? That seemed a horrible prospect. He'd grown so attuned to the sea. It was the relief in the morning after a rough night, and the freedom in the evening once his labor was done. He could enjoy himself and forget for a moment. And he could think in the water too when he wanted to without having a panic attack. The sea carried him and kept him safe. It almost felt like a relationship of sorts. Impossible, he knew. But sometimes it felt like the sea could react to him. Like it loved him back just as fiercely. 

What childlike make-belief. He sighed and then worried about what was to come. His heart yearned to be with the Sully kids again. To play with them, laugh with them, and help them with their chores. Be the listener when they really need to get something off their chest. Know the stories of their time here at Awa'atlu. But maybe they'd grown apart? Things might be awkward. And how could he be around them without consoling them? Acting normal after Neteyam died for him... Because of him. Facing them in a casual setting when they didn't even know he'd saved his father was a terrible thought. Would they seek him out now? Tuk seemed like she'd missed him. But they could have found him already had they wanted to. 

Only when they presumed him dead were they looking for him. Or well, Tuk had wanted to come hear his story of the big fish he'd caught. He'd try to seek her out maybe. Play with her on the shore. It might be nice.

Spider felt tears welling up even though he didn't want them to, blinking aggressively.

Jake sighed, looking at him. The poor boy was so upset: "Listen, you must understand why I am being so strict with you." He misunderstood Spider's sadness as a reaction to the punishment, not seeing the inner battle Spider had waging inside. "Tuk found the mask a ways off from the village. And from there towards the village I found one of your dreads, torn out by the root. And so close to our home." Jake's own eyes stung now. "It looked like- it looked like something had attacked you, your mask had broken and you'd tried to run for us for help. Like you'd gotten so close only to be caught by something strong enough to rip out hair like that." He paused for a moment. "All day today I've just imagined you rushing to us, for aid, for comfort. Us being so near and not hearing your cries for help because you had no air left to make them. Wondering if I could have saved you. If my children will need to be told how horribly you'd died. Praying to Eywa to find a sign of you or your body for closure but wishing I would not as to not see the state of it. And then later in the day realizing it would not have even mattered if you'd made it to the Marui." He paused. His heart ached making his admission: "I'd been neglectful. There was no spare mask to give you, no life-saving device that would have prevented the air from choking you out just the same in our arms. We would have watched you die just like-"

Neteyam.

He'd died gasping for air. Unable to fill his lungs correctly, wheezes and hopeless gasps rasping through him. They would have gone through it again. 

The true pain in Jake's voice made Spider check the seal around his mask. It was airtight. Spider looked at the man. He was always so courageous and strong. The anger he'd carried in him had dissipated. Spider could tell by the way his brows weren't furrowed anymore, and how his eyes were downcast so sadly. In that moment there was no denying Jake cared. Even if a massive part of his aching was for his kids' suffering, which Spider was not categorized as. He still carried the blame for something that would not have been his fault in Spider's eyes had it come to pass.

"Sir... It would not have been your fault even if that had happened. We've always known my mask breaking is a very real possibility. I've taken the risk every time I left the human buildings at high camp. I would never blame anyone for it, even if it did end my life." Spider tried to reassure him, but Jake just looked sadder. Looking at the broken mask he said: "It's probably from the wreckage of the Sea Dragon. It must have drifted here from the sea."

"I am responsible for you..." Jake mumbled, a habit very unlike him.

Spider shook his head: "Permission to get off the rock, sir?"

Jake sighed and nodded. Usually, he'd say permission granted, or some other army lingo, but it seemed Jake had dropped all of that. 

Jake grabbed both Spide's arms while the boy slid down the rock to stand on the sand. The visual change from looking slightly down at Jake to having to crane his neck so much it hurt was a strange one. Jake affectionately patted his shoulders, before pulling the boy into an awkward hug, just as he had on that rock after the fight. His fingers rubbed Spider dreads. It seemed an affectionate action, but it was a trick! Evidenced by Spider's sudden whine when Jake found the aching spot the dread had been pulled from and then parted his hair to check the damage.

Jake tutted. A sound Spider had never heard from him before. He angles his face to look back up at Jake and the man kneeled in front of him. "Looks like it hurts." 

Spider didn't answer.

"I never again want to find out you've been hurt without me knowing:" Jake spoke, grabbing something from his little pouch again. A liquid was gently rubbed into Spider's skull. He'd have a bald spot there for a bit, but the hair would grow back eventually. The liquid would soothe his hurt. "No suffering in silence bullshit you hear me, son?" 

An ache bloomed in Spider from hearing that word. 

"If you get hurt you come to me." Jake's voice was demanding, but had a soft promise to it: "I will not turn you away. Even if it's a small thing. Things like this sunburn and you losing hair are things I feel concerned about. But I can not help with what I don't know of. Here at Awa'atlu, you are mine. So I will care for you accordingly." Jake moved his knee in a way that he could nudge the boy closer: "Right now my family needs to heal. All of my family." The gentle claim there did not register in Spider. "I have to focus on Neytiri for a while. But know that you are still on my radar. I never want to worry about you like this again, so no reckless games or unnecessary risks."

Spider nodded. Jake had never spoken like this to him before. If he got hurt he was taken to Norm. If he acted badly he was put into the human buildings and told to go to his room. Never before had a little scrape been a reason to go to Jake. That just wasn't Jake's role back in the forest... But here at Awa'atlu, he was Jake's. Something he'd always wanted. The man made the claim himself. Jake's. Spider's heart tried to soar, but he pushed down his emotion and refused the joy that tried to fill him so entirely. This kind of hope was not safe for him.

Jake kept speaking but Spider was zoned out, more focused on controlling his inner emotions. Jake was so close. Spider doubted they'd ever spent so much time just the two of them together. Jake was warm too, a nice change from the ocean air.

He never wanted to move again. 

He spoke for a long time. Buying time maybe? But for what? Jake wasn't sure himself. He just knew that after more than 30 hours his heart was finally slowing, while he held Spider near. He didn't want to let go. He was so small. He was sure that by the end of the year, Tuk would be taller. The last Sully to overgrow the boy. Fondly Jake wondered if Spider would have some type of height crisis when it happened. If he did he'd be there to help his son through it.

Jake had noticed the matting forming in Spider's hair. His dreads were a mess. He'd need help with fixing them and Jake would ensure he'd be the one to do the job. Spider had little aches all over. Jake didn't like that and was even more convinced of his no-swimming rule. His son needed to put on weight and swimming all day would just trim him down unless he ate like a bull. Spider eating at the community cookfires would hopefully bring him closer to the villagers, and then once some time had passed he'd eat in their Marui. He could see it now: he'd sit next to Jake, leaning to his dad's side; accepting food made by Neytiri. Jake would see him full and content every night before the boy went to bed. He'd have his kids at home. Maybe Spider would take a spot near him and Neytiri to sleep in? It would be nice. Tuk was the youngest but in a way, Jake felt he'd had Spider the shortest amount of time. And Spider would soon be the smallest, even if by age he was older than the rest.

Spider would never pass his Iknimaya since he didn't have a kuru for Tsaheylu. /neural queue, bond-neural connection/ Did that mean he'd get to keep Spider at home forever? Children didn't move out until they mated. And Na'vi don't mate until they've passed their Iknimaya and even after that, many took a long time to make the commitment. So would Spider be his and Neytiri's forever? Maybe someday Spider would want his own space, but then Jake could simply have a mobile station flown in so Spider could breathe air without a mask and have a bit of space and still be home for the most part. Spider was so susceptible to everything around him. Maybe a mobile shack would be good for the boy already? Ensure even if a mask broke they could simply run him in, instead of fumbling with a backup one.

Keeping a human alive would be work. Didn't matter, Jake had dealt with harder obstacles. Maybe he was thinking ahead rather severely. They still had to chase RDA off of the planet before they'd truly be safe again. But the prospect of a new child in his family, in his life brought him enough hope to think ahead. He'd keep Spider near. 

No one would take his son from him.

For a while now it had been hard to think about his children. His sons especially. He'd put all his love and energy into helping them. Holding them when they cried, carrying them to bed with him and Neytiri when they were having hard nights. Focused on their worries and well-being, making sure they ate, hardly leaving the Marui himself due to this. 

But now the floodgates were open when it came to Spider. With his other children, it felt as if there was only here and now. They were suffering, and he was focusing on what he could change about the current moment to help them. With Spider it could never be just today. He knew now he always needed to be thinking ahead. What was the backup plan if he digested something unsuitable for him? What were the symptoms of which plant or meat when eaten by humans? If his mask cracked what was the easiest sealant to procure around here? He knew what it would have been in the forest, but was there something more effective on this island? If the battery on his mask was out where was the closest replacement one? He filed away at the back of his mind to ask Spider where his spares were kept. If the boy needed a blood transfusion were Norm or Max a match? Maybe someone else at high camp? Would his own blood work since he wasn't technically in a fully authentic Na'vi body? 

The possibilities of things that could go wrong with Spider because he was human seemed endless, and he wanted answers for them all. He'd need to make plans and contingencies with Norm. He'd first need to tell Norm Spider was staying with him at Awa'atlu; that bringing him back to the forest was not an option, or something he'd even allow to be asked for or hinted at. Spider was his and hopefully soon Neytiri's too. A son for a son. 

He'd made that choice, that proclamation. And it wasn't changing. 

Spider had closed his eyes. Jake smiled. Oh, how his heart now loved. Spider hadn't been a son for long, so it was understandable that Jake would take a moment to settle into the role of a father for him. He still felt guilty over not seeking the boy out. At least his children had been going to see him. Solidifying him into their family as their sibling. Children were good for that, so ready to receive and give love freely to those that belonged to them. Jake wondered if Spider could already feel more like a part of the family. He hoped the boy did. Spider had not been very close to- to... so it made sense for the hit to be the least hurtful for Spider; meaning the boy hadn't needed Jake for comfort. But he almost hoped he would have even if it meant Spider's heart hurt a little more than it did now. Kiri must have been the one to talk to Spider about his pain and sorrow. But selfishly Jake yearned to have already held Spider this close. 

It hadn't really hit him before now that Spider was his. Maybe some protective fatherly instinct needed to wake up in him through worry and panic.  

At this moment he was just a father, holding a son, with all his love in his heart, spilling over. 

He never wanted to move again. 

Chapter Text

Spider followed Jake back to the village. The night felt colder by the second, but Spider didn't notice. Jake was walking on his left side, between him and the ocean, cutting off the cold wind. His hand was laid on his right shoulder, the weight of it pressing the boy closer to his side. It was nice to walk like this, even in a silence that grew more awkward by the second. 

A moment ago they'd been so close with hushed conversation of things that didn't even matter; Spider being held by Jake. 

It had been a wonderful escape.

They stopped at a log near the Marui. Jake instructed Spider to sit on it and told him strongly to stay put as he walked away. Spider did. His shoulders slumped from exhaustion. He craved sleep more than he did food at that moment.

While only a few minutes passed it felt like an hour to the boy. 

When Jake returned he came from the direction of the communal fire and sat down in the sand in front of Spider.

"Eat this. You look hungry:" He ordered with his voice back to being soft and caring. He placed a bowl in Spider's hands, warning him that the bottom of it was hot and to hold it carefully so as to not burn himself.

It was full of some sort of stew. It looked kind of terrible, a green-brownish liquid that was steaming and fogged up Spider's mask. Jake gently wiped it clean. Bits of something green floated at the top with a purple herb Spider guessed was Pxayopinspxam /flare lichen/ which was plentiful in its iron content; thus it was good to add to human food. Spider's heart felt light and loved; thinking that Mr. Sully had added it in due to remembering its health benefits.

There was fish in the stew as well. A hearty meal. 

"Irayo:" /thank you/ Spider mumbled, bringing the bowl up to his lips, only for Jake to place a finger on the opposite edge and pull it back down.

"If it's too hot for your fingers it's too hot to eat. Blow on it a while, I don't want you to burn your tongue." The man lifted a hand to ruffle Spider's hair but only managed to get his fingers lodged in it, chuckling as he detangled them free again. 

Spider looked sheepish. He shouldn't have tried to guzzle down the food like a wild beast. He blew on the surface of the stew, seeing it ripple with the air. He was being fed properly for the first time since his time on the SeaDragon ship. The last bowl of food he'd been handed had been from his father. Quaritch had ruffled his hair then too, only he'd been careful enough to not get his fingers stuck in it. His hair had been better maintained then than it was now. "Eat up, son." He'd said. 

Jake was feeding him too. Jake was affectionate too. Jake was pulling something out of a pouch that smelled medicinal. Just because his father had fed him for a long time did not mean he was a good parent. Spider had to remind himself of that. He had to imbed into his mind that Jake did these things all day for his children. Had done so since they were born. Your father was dead, he never had the chance to.

Spider's heart clenched as he pushed the thoughts away.

"I'm going to rub this to your cuts and bruises ok?" Jake said, dipping his fingers into a green salve, and then started with Spider's legs. The boy hummed in agreement, not even momentarily considering telling the man he was fine or could do it himself. The care and affection Jake had shown him today had left him in a mellow state. He didn't want to argue or to fend for himself. He could let the man help him without feeling guilty about it tomorrow.

Or maybe it was just the damning lassitude that clouded his thoughts and caused him to have no fight left in him.

By the time Jake had lathered salve over most aches he could spot on the boy the soup was finally cool enough to eat. 

The boy tilted the bowl at his lips and began to eat in earnest. He could see a bit of liquid run down from the edges and drip over Spider's jaw. The boy's whole body began to tilt backward with the bowl to eat faster. 

"Whoa whoa, Spider. You're gonna fall off of the log if you lean over like that." Jake pressed a hand to the boy's shoulder blades to take on his weight like the backrest of a chair. His hand spanned all the way across the boy, pushing back a little when the boy didn't stop leaning. Jake couldn't help letting out a laugh. Spider ate just like Lo'ak did after spending a whole day playing and running around. Greedy and excitable. Jake felt a sense of pride that the food he'd thrown together from the leftover soup from that day quenched the boy's hunger so well.

Spider's lips smacked together a few times when the bowl was empty and he straightened himself.

He looked a little embarrassed, but the feeling disappeared from his face when Jake just looked at him fondly. 

Jake's mind tried to make a game plan for tomorrow. Get a hold of Norm, and get more masks for Spider. Take him to Ronal for the sunburn. It had left his skin coarse and pained under Jake's fingers when he'd been healing him just now. Maybe Ronal could look at the little cuts on the boy too. They seemed to only be on his legs and arms. Check-in with Spider one more time that he'd understood his punishment. No swimming. 

Maybe... Keep an eye on him all day. Just stay a bit more near than he otherwise would. Surely he could pull it off without Spider noticing? He could be a protector better if the boy was in his view. Just for one day. 

Jake helped Spider up, and with a soft hold on the boy's arm, he began to walk again.

Had he done enough? Had they talked over everything? Maybe he'd forgotten something important, or not made the boy feel secure enough? Ah, the pains of being an insecure father. 

Now their ways would part. Spider followed Jake to the edge of the Sully Marui, where the man stilled. Soft crying still coming from the home. Spider sent Jake a look, both of them knowing Tuk had not gone to sleep like ordered. Jake nodded his head gently towards the home, an invitation. An ask. A promise of a very short visit, indicated by the tightness of the movement. He wasn't asking Spider home, simply offering for him to peek in and comfort Tuk quickly. 

Spider shook his head. It was better to not upset Neytiri more, with one of her children already crying over him. 

A dark thought passed Spider's mind that the woman would have probably preferred he'd met this gruesome end. She might have even been disappointed that it was not so. For her, it would have been simpler to let her children mourn him now that they were already sad and she could pretend they were upset about Neteyam. This way she would have had an easier time drying their tears, thinking they were for her son. Not for a demon. 

Jake understood Spider's hesitation for what it was. Jake patted his head, hand running gently down above the dreads, grasping one nimbly, before giving a fond smile and letting go. He disappeared into the Marui with a request for Spider to wait there.

A hushed voice spoke from the home: "Oh maite, would it help you calm down and go to sleep if you got to see Spider really quickly?" /my daughter/ Spider heard a little hiss from Neytiri, taking a step backward as a natural, learned response to it.

He could hear shuffling and a tired Tuk appeared from the Marui, rubbing her eyes and clutching a wooden toy Spider knew was once made by Neteyam. Spider smiled, and crouched down quickly, hands extended, allowing Tuk to simply fall into him. Her weight made him give a very small grunt, and it took more muscle strength than before to rearrange the girl more comfortably in his arms. He ended up with her half sitting on his knee, arm behind her neck so she could lean back and practically lay in the air as he held her up. "Hi Tuk-tuk, having trouble sleeping?" The path under them notched from their combined weight.

Tuk nodded, too tired at that point to keep herself fully verbal. Spider had seen this before, mainly when they'd had such fun times playing in the forest that Tuk just refused to sleep. 

"Better now:" She mumbled after a moment passed.

Spider gave another fond smile. His free hand was clutching her arm, keeping her from rolling over sleepily. He rubbed back and forth with his thumb, knowing it would calm her as it always did. A habit Spider had picked up from Neytiri, not that he was aware of said origin. "Better now? Good. That's good." 

Spider watched as the girl just stared at him. Once lifting a hand to throw a dread over his head so it didn't cover his face more than the mask already did. She was sleepily blinking, with her eyes staying closed longer and longer in between blinks. "Did sempu punish you?" /dad-daddy/

"Oh yes:" Spider chuckled.

"Why?" Tuk asked, her voice trailing off towards the end.

"For making the ever regal princess Tuktirey cry." A tired chuckle left the girl at that. Spider then added almost as an afterthought: "And obviously for not being at her disposal when she wanted to hear a story about a fish."

Wrong thing to say.

"I wanna hear." Tuk's eyes were wide open again, and Spider cringed at that. His calves and thighs were starting to burn from the restraint of being crouched with such a weight on him, so he began to gently sway on his feet. 

Tuk only seemed to take this as her being lulled to sleep since her eyes began to droop again.

"I promise I'll tell you the whole story first thing tomorrow." Spider said, lowering his voice through the sentence into just a whisper: "But you have to sleep first." His legs would be killing him the next day he could already imagine what a day spent running after Tuk and playing with her would do to his body. He'd feel like an 80-year-old man after getting up a flight of stairs without stretching. 

Spider tried to find details of Tuk that were different now. Her hair was maybe a tad longer. She still had her little purple knife on her hip. She'd switched her thin necklace from the forest into a woven necklace with a bit more of a Metkayina nod to the style of it. She was taller but still had the soft roundness of childish features. Spider had been a near-daily presence in Tuk's life for so many years now; he mourned the lost time. Moving to Awa'atlu had clearly had a strong impact on her life. It had helped her grow into her own person more. And he hadn't been there. Maybe she would tell him stories tomorrow too. 

Spider began to hum. He didn't quite remember the words to the tune, as he didn't know all types of Omatikaya songs. They were so plentiful, and many of them were sung only in the privacy of a home; like lullabies. At Neteyam's funeral, Spider had heard a songcord's song for the first time. And it had been Neytiris. It somehow felt terribly wrong to now know the tune to her life, when she'd never wanted him around. It had been terribly beautiful. 

The song Spider held the tune to now was probably a human song. Sometimes the scientist would play music at the base; it was never very loud so as to not disturb the whole place. Spider lowered his voice down a bit, one of his feet beginning to shake at the strain of holding Tuk like this. He should have sat down at the edge of the path.

Tuk's breathing slowed; Spider kept humming; murmuring in a few words sometimes when he remembered them, filling the gaps in the small sentences he did remember.

"Baby mine, dry your eyes"

"Never to part, baby of mine"

"You're so sweet, this Eywa knows"

"You are so precious to me, baby of mine"

"Baby mine, baby mine"

The song continued through the same looped tune, which was probably why Spider could remember so little. He had the thought that perhaps it was a lullaby his mother had once sung to him, only would he even remember a song from so long ago? He did his best to sing silently, only a hushed murmur really, nothing like how the Na'vi sang, but it still seemed to bring Tuk to the land of sleep. 

The ocean waves hitting the sand nearby were as soothing a tune as he was. 

Spider looked up at the sky, the stars by the sea were easier to see than those in the forest, where the treetops got in the way. Awa'atlu really was a wonderful place for Tuk to keep growing up.

Spider sat a moment, just listening and watching to see if Tuk really was asleep. When he concluded that she was, he carefully shifted his grip on her. He looped an arm under her knees and moved the other behind her shoulders. He tried to push himself standing and... His muscles did not answer. In fact, his toes were entirely numb, and wiggling them just made them painfully tingle. He tried to prop himself and Tuk up, using the hand he had looped behind her knees but his fingers just dug into the weavings of the path. 

Exasperated, Spider tried to make his legs listen to him again to no avail.

Should he call out to Mr. Sully and risk waking up Tuk or the rest of the family in the Marui? 

What else was there to do? Spider leaned forward to get on his knees, cringing at the hurt in his toes, bent like that to let his body slump forward. Now the rest of his legs began to tingle too, blood rushing back in.

When getting up from there was no easier Spider looked at the Marui, brows furrowed in a resigned kind of way: "Psst." Sir? Jake? Mr Sully? After a quick existential crisis on how to call out for the man, he chose the last option. Sir was more a hiss in the night and might go unheard, tossed off as a whistle of the wind.

No reaction.

"Mr Sully Tuk fell asleep," Spider whispered towards the Marui again, and this time there was a creaking, a shuffle, and then muffled footsteps. 

Not Jake's though, these were too light. Spider gulped at the thought of facing Kiri right now, but no it wasn't Kiri either. It was worse. 

A blue, slender hand grasped the edge of the doorway to the Marui, and Spider knew before he even saw her.

Neytiri stepped out of her home, and into the moonlight. The woman was a goddess among men. Her blue skin seemed so radiant that Spider felt even the nightly light cascaded off of her in a gentler way than others; the moon reaching out for her embrace. Her bioluminescent spots were alive with life, those dancing patterns on her skin that mapped out her whole being. The scars, small and well healed on her added to her Elysian nature. There was something about seeing the proof of life on her skin that seemed to only add to this... this feeling she gave off. This throat-choking, paralyzing ache grasped Spider by the spine when he saw her. His whole body tremored. 

He'd not been near her since the funeral. Since she'd swam at him, death in her heart until he'd let go of Tuktirey... The same daughter he was holding now. Was this how he'd die? Didn't seem too awful a fate, seeing as he was so close to the Sullys. Close enough to feel the warmth of their home, able to imagine himself welcome here.

Neytiri's eyes were so honey yellow, zeroed in on Spider as if she could find him anywhere, even in eternal darkness. 

Spider stared. Didn't speak a word. If his fate was sealed then so it'd be.

For a time there wasn't a reaction from either. No start of a conversation, no move for attack. Just two beings; one helpless, the other an apex predator. What was a bunny to do in the jaws of a wolf? Or a yerik facing a palulukan? /hexapede thanator/

Spider could only hope Tuk wouldn't wake from this. That she'd sleep peacefully, her sorrows quenched for a night of rest. Gods he might bleed on her. She'd have to wash his blood off of her body. Spider's mind was spiraling. He didn't even notice when Neytiri began to approach. Didn't notice those eyes growing bigger as she drew closer. Didn't hear the steps that grew louder nor the breathing that was calm and collected, a familiar hiss missing from it.

She wasn't relaxed. Neytiri's body was a little tight and rigid but not in the way she was when preparing to strike. She wasn't bracing herself to attack but rather seemed cautious. The aggressiveness and innate hatred that usually radiated like heat from Neytiri was entirely absent.

Spider's mind still a mess he began to see. With Neytiri so close it was clear that there was no anger in her eyes; that he was pinned down by her gaze but it didn't feel as malicious as it normally did. Her shoulders weren't tense and her ears weren't pointed backward. No armor covered her skin and no warpaint littered her body. Her heart, unknown to him beat slowly in his presence for the first time in years.

She was here for a simple job; knifeless, bowless; a mother fetching her child.

She looked- tired. 

Spider lowered his head, unable to keep looking. His blood was still rushing in his head. As if on autopilot; he redied his arms, and with hands on the cusp of just giving up he shifted Tuk and then lifted her up as much as he could; an offering to the waiting mother. His hands shook, it was something he could not cover up. There had been a time when he could pick Tuk up with straight arms, able to toss her into the air even, but now she was too heavy to simply offer up naturally. He had to bite his teeth together to not grimace at the strain. 

His elbows wished to cave in. To bend and bring Tuk to rest closer to him for support, but he kept his bones rigid.

Neytiri was close enough to scoop up her child quickly but instead moved deliberately, gentle, and calculated in where she placed her hands, where she allowed her fingers to settle. She began to pull the little girl off of the human's arms, noting the weakness in the limbs of the boy, and the relief he desperately tried to cover up once the weight was off of him. 

Her own body was wary. Tired and ready for bed. She'd keep Tuk in her arms tonight. Listening to her baby cry over the boy had been aggravating; now looking at the boy she was simply too exhausted to care. Besides he looked like the environment had already given him a lesson for scaring her children so. 

There was no need nor wish to add to the boy's pain in her. 

Chapter Text

He was able to keep the food in long enough to enjoy the feeling of being full. He lay by the beach with a hand on his belly, a tired smile on his face. It didn't last. After he'd only had his eyes closed a moment he retched and threw up. He only just and just managed to take off his mask before he lost his meal into the sea. He didn't know if he threw up all of the soup, but he felt noticeably less full when he was done, and left gasping for air from the mask. His mouth felt vile. He gurgled with seawater to get the taste out and then despaired over his misfortune.

Maybe he'd eaten too much too fast. Either way, he cursed his own luck of needing to throw up on the only night he'd had a good meal in ages.

Spider slept another night on the sand. Slept was perhaps the wrong word to use since he was more passed out than asleep through the majority of the night. The fatigue really struck him hard. He wasn't an idiot, however, and had been sensible enough to stay half-propped up against the big rock, so as to not get pulled to sea or drowned by a possible tide. He wasn't exactly certain he'd actually wake up if such a thing were to happen.

He woke up before the sun even rose, hunger twisting in his gut, eyes filled with sleep sand. Rubbing them he got to work, muscles screaming at the exertion. Today was not his day. Forbidden from going into the sea, too strained for the level of movement and flexibility he'd normally have. He was too hungry for clear thoughts and far too pained to take the time to prioritize and properly look after himself. 

He kept swaying on his feet as he made his way to the edge of the jungle, slumping down to his knees in front of a somewhat familiar tree, fingers already digging into the part of the ground where white beach sand and muddy soil of the forest met. He could feel it all grating at his skin, bits of sand and mud burrowing under his nails. Yet he dug more and more until his hands found roots in the deep darkness of the ground and began to rip them out.

The roots tasted bitter like biting into a lemon without the freshness of it. The texture was as hard as ever, the roots having a tougher inner part that Spider's teeth just couldn't bite through. There was dirt on the roots as he ate them, not having the energy to drag himself back to the edge of the shore to wash them in the sea. A little dirt couldn't be that bad for him after all. Better than going without eating. He dug up more and more roots like a madman, giving up on even shaking off the dirt and simply biting and chewing onto more and more to fulfill the aggravating hunger within. One might think he'd lost his mind. Skinny as he was, arms covered with dirt and soot to the elbow, fingers bloody from the digging, clumping on the soil to the wet flecks of blood. His gaze was so tired, his eyes bloodshot, and his whole body shaking. Shoving uncleaned roots that Na'vi didn't even like to eat into his mouth.

It didn't matter to him. Food was right there, tasting awful, but still. Better than nothing. It took him nearly an hour to collect himself after he was done. He overate. He'd dug in a very lucky spot, the roots there were plentiful and easier to rip out than normal. 

Now he leaned back to his arms, his elbow joints hating the weight of him, looking towards the slowly rising sun over the horizon. Today was to be a gorgeous day, with the air as clear as ever, the sea inviting, and the breeze strong enough to cool you just the right amount. 

Spider took his time sitting there, knowing such a sight would have freaked out the locals had they seen. It could not be allowed to be repeated no matter how hungry he got. He'd need to do better with food. Eat more consistently. 

And he'd been so weak with Tuk last night too. He didn't want that to show again either. Tuk was having a hard time and Spider wanted to be strong for her. The need to be a rock in her life lit a fire in his soul and actually made him look forward to the new day.

Now that was a feeling rare and precious these days. 

He washed his body at the edge of the sea, cupping water with his hands, not entering even the shallows. He'd been told not to and he'd honor Jake's command. 

He double-checked the straps of his rebreather, tightening it a little too much, better safe than sorry with a day entertaining Tuk beginning.

The rest of the sunrise, all the way till the sky was blue and not yellow he made shapes out of seaweed. Trees this time. Beautiful, large ones and smaller ones from the forest. They looked more delicate and detailed than the animals did, perhaps they were simply easier shapes to create. But also Spider's mind was quite calm today. He took real joy out of the moment when he twisted and turned the seaweeds on the rock he dried them on. The feeling of making something with his hands had always been a source of good feelings for him, but this morning he truly enjoyed it. He wasn't sure why today of all days.

Yesterday he'd scared the Sullys and gotten punished for it, he certainly didn't feel as though he deserved a nice day. Something within him sought out the place where his good emotion was bundled up in any way. 

It might have been the twinging pain in his chest that felt worse today than it had yesterday. Now that his other little injuries didn't feel as bad the chest wound felt magnified. The salve Jake had rubbed to his skin had cleared off and he looked to be in better condition. Perfect timing too since he didn't want Tuk worrying over him. His body protested most movements; the cut wanting to turn into a scar but staying in such a strain of distress it couldn't. He could feel the chest pain all the way to his lungs as if it was spreading.

He left with his wobbly spear and basket, actually venturing towards the center of the village. He wished to fish and he'd told Tuk he'd tell her stories today, so he ought to be somewhere she'd easily spot him once she woke up. He settled on the beach, on top of a lanky rock, and began to fish. There he was in clear view of the Sully Marui.

By his second fish, the villagers began to wake.

Footsteps were on the sand, giggles and whispers alike moved through the air, but he didn't dare peek over his shoulder. He would be there on the rock, where all could see him and be wary if they so wished. Slinking about the village would only strengthen their resolve to be afraid of him for being a skyperson. Perhaps being as visible and unthreatening as he could be would lessen their concerns. 

Eventually, a set of footsteps approached him and Spider could tell they were not those of a Sully. Too heavy and sure on the sand. Spider straightened his back and stuck his spear standing into the sand by the rock. He was not to hold a weapon when speaking to a Metkayina, even one as frail as the one of his own making. "Eywa ngahu, 'ewan 'evengan:" /may Eywa be with you, young boy (a greeting)/ The voice of Tonowari was more gentle today, perhaps even having a strain of mirth to it.

Spider's surprise lifted his brow, he tilted his head as he turned to look at the Olo'eyktan. Tonowari showed him great kindness with his words; they were usually said when departing from another and wishing them to be safe. Now as a greeting, it was as if he was welcoming home a lost friend or a warrior from battle. It was formal, yes, but also terribly kind.

Quickly Spider wondered if perhaps Tonowari thought him younger than he was in actuality. The word boy in itself contained a young age, but to add to it by calling him a young boy specifically made him think that perhaps his short stature had left Tonowari with the belief that he was a preteen.

"Oel ngati kameie Olo'eyktan:" /i see you clan leader/ Spider replied with the gesture. With him standing on the rock, he didn't feel as minuscule as the last time he'd seen the tall man: "Ngaru lu fpom srak?" /are you well (do you have wellbeing)/ 

Tonowari smiled: "It is I who should ask you such a question 'eveng. You were missing yesterday and we were worried when searching for you." /child/ 

Spider lowered his head in shame. A flush crept up to his neck and cheeks. He'd never been great with embarrassment: "Ngaytxoa!" /my apologies/ "I did not wish to cause grievance nor worry within your tribe. Forgive me for any unrest I may have caused." 

A hand landed on his shoulder. It was warm and gentle, surprisingly without the weight that the large limbs of Na'vi usually came with. Tonowari knew how to be light with his hands, despite his only interactions with skypeople having been in battle. He was a gentle giant, aware of his superior strength perhaps due to his significant size, and thus knew how to regulate his body well. He'd learned it for his brothers in arms, for his wife, for his children, and the kids of the village. For the ilus and the animals he cared for. He'd learned it to be able to help his wife weave gauze without tearing through the strands and to be able to hold and love her without hurt. Spider was simply another addition to the large roster of people and things he needed to watch his strength with. Nothing unusual there. 

"What a sadness it is that a child would apologize for a struggle." The meaning of the leader's words did not sink into Spider. A shame really, for they would have been a much-needed aid for his bleeding heart. "The important thing is that you are safe at home. Your siblings need not grieve another, and Jake Sully may now be calm in his mind as well. He worried for you a great deal."

Spider nodded then rushed to deny claims of siblinghood: "I-" 

Tonowari cut him off with a lifted palm: "I have been recounted to the events that led to your abrupt disappearance. I wish for no other explanation nor more apologies." Tonowari's brows lowered after, then his gaze grew solemn: "It is I who should apologize to you. I have been... Neglectful of you, child." 

Spider's head snapped up, his eyes confused and searching. He could see a village Na'vi pausing their step as if hitting a wall behind Tonowari. The shock was evident on the face of this overhearer as much as it was on Spiders. The boy's head shook back and forth with denial. 

"It is with great lewng that I admit to this. You are a new child of the tribe and under the same Uturu as the Sullys. I should have assigned my children to teach you the way of the water as I did for the Sullys when they first arrived." /shame, sanctuary/ Tonowari's voice was deepened with regret. 

"You should not feel shame for such a thing-"

Tonowari halted his speech again: "I should. And I do. Foolishly I thought the Sullys would teach you, but they are in a time of grief, it is understandable that things would be forgotten or left untaught when they first took you to the water." 

Spider allowed the thought in his head to dim that screamed he'd not entered the waters with the Sullys beside the funeral even once. Nothing had been taught to him, no warnings given either. Sometimes it was better to not listen to his thoughts and to not say anything at all.

"The Sullys are in training themselves still, as much as they have already learned and become a part of us. So it should have occurred to me, that they ought not to be the ones to teach you." It was clear that the man was regretful. Strong still, and set on fixing his error, but upset nonetheless. It was a strange sight for Spider. He was not used to people apologizing to him or seeing his struggle. And he did fine in the water either way even if the Metkayina did think the ocean currents were dangerous. This was a preemptive apology over some grand loss that had not even happened. Spider had been safe in the sea this whole time. That made the exchange only stranger. 

When gestured for him to do so, Spider got off of the rock and picked up his basket of only two fish. Tonowari asked him to follow, and Spider did. It was strange noticing how many Metkayina were clearly listening in on the conversation; looking away quickly to cover up their intrusion. In the woods, people didn't bother hiding that they eavesdropped. It wasn't something the Omatikaya felt shame over, but it seemed rude here with the ocean clan. 

"Oe sweylu sulu tsonta nume:" /i would-should like to learn/ Spider spoke out, trying to convey a serious will to his words to appear certain and ready. "Txo nga tung oe tsonta. I have been trying to be a useful member of the clan as you asked. I would prefer to do rather than sit idly. I have never been great at not having a job to fulfill:" /if you allow me to/ Spider spoke so quickly he felt out of breath, attempting to keep up with Tonowari's long steps.

Tonowari nodded, occasionally giving a greeting to a villager they walked past: "I have seen. New nets have appeared for the fishermen. They have spoken of their excellence. Very fine, small-holed nets that catch crustaceans well, made with the fingers of a child, but not with the impatience of one. I assume they are of your making?" 

Spider slowly nodded. He had not meant to take claim for the small aid he'd been able to provide, but rather nod towards the fact that he'd not ignored Tonowari's earlier instruction. 

"You make fine nets, and you have caught the flrr txanatan payoang for the tribe to feast on. Acts that have not gone unseen, even if your ailment has." /gentle vivid fish/ 

Spider wondered at his words and stopped walking: "Ailment?"

Tonowari turned in the sun to stare down at the boy: "I have been lead to understand that you are not meant to be this shade of pink and red. The sun has waged war upon your skin and I did not have the knowledge of skypeople to understand such a change was an ailment to be cured though I had briefly noted the change when seeing you some days ago."

Spider chuckled: "Did you think skypeople change color?" It was a rather comical thought.

"At the battle, I saw skypeople of many colors, though none as pink as you are now. Jake has told me your skin must be hidden from the sun to aid your recovery." Tonowari tilted his head at Spider's laughter. Many creatures of Eywa changed color so why shouldn't the humans too? It was quieting to see the young boy find comedy in his own pain. Perhaps it was a skypeople trait since Na'vi children did not laugh at hurt, but rather ran to their parents for comfort and care.

Jake had mentioned to Spider that his skin needed to be seen to.

"My mate has been planning something for your skin over the night. It is a new challenge for her." Upon seeing the sudden worry on Spider's face Tonowari went on to add: "Worry not. She was not keen on letting you stay here as you know, but I think now her curiosity has caused excitement in her, and she is rather keen on getting to treat your pink skin."

Excited? To help him? Spider wasn't sure what to think of that. Perhaps it would be too forward to think it a good sign, but maybe it could be a start. The Olo'eyktan clearly did not mind him and had even searched for him when he'd disappeared, but having at least the neutrality of the Tsahìk instead of distaste would also be a grand step forward. 

"Irayo. I shall accept any aid she may give with much gratefulness." /thank you/ 

Spider spotted the community basket from the corner of his eye, with a bow of his head to the Olo'eyktan he walked over, cracked open the basket, and tilted his basket to pour in his two catches of the day. It wasn't much, but he could fish more later when talking to Tuk. His mind was already trying to figure out what chores he could do with Tuk nearby. 

The boy looked over his shoulder to see a few Metkayina had gathered around Tonowari and were gesturing toward Spider when speaking. Their voices were not raised, and the gestures were softer than Spider had previously noted, so he wasn't too worried about the context of the conversation. 

"Oel ngati kameie 'eveng:" /i see you, child/ A voice spoke from Spider's side, and he turned surprised to see the face of Oìeetxo closer than he'd anticipated. He jumped back a bit in surprise and lifted a hand to his own chest before giving a smile and repeating the woman's gesture. 

"Oel ngati kameie Oìeetxo. I hope you are well today." Spider smiled genuinely at the open happiness on the older woman's face. 

"Oeyä fpom nìltsan:" /my wellbeing is in a good manner (i am well)/ the woman replies with such ease it feels strange to Spider how natural the conversation is. She doesn't seem at all wary of him now. "Thank you for asking. I am glad to see you alive, though you don't look to be in good health." The woman tilts her head with some concern, looking over Spider; lifting her hands to his shoulders to push them back so she can see his stance well. The shells on the necklace he wears to cover Neytiri's cut sway with the movement and he tries to look as well as he can. He is already seeing the Tsahìk for his skin, and there was no need to get medical attention, or waste recourses on anything else when it comes to him. He also deep down doesn't want to appear weak in front of this woman who seems to see him in a good light. "Are you eating enough?"

Spider looks sheepish; "I had a big breakfast this morning." It's not a lie, only an omission about the nutritional lack of said meal. 

"Hmm- nonetheless an old woman is allowed to show concern over the young of the tribe. Eat a good meal at midday, on my order." She makes a tutting sound when her fingers trail down his arms and trail over the little bruises he collects like Pokemon cards. "How strange that you tawtutes shed skin." She mumbles when her fingers fly over a part of his arms that is peeling from sunburn. 

"I am seeing the Tsahìk for healing soon," Spider speaks up, hoping this will draw the woman off from any worry about his health.

She nods, appeased allowing her hands to drop back to her sides. The shell bracelets clatter around her arms. Spider wonders how she was able to sneak up on him with how loud they were.

"You will now find that the Metkayina will fear you less." She says, certainty in her voice, as her eyes bore deep into his. She speaks as if making a promise, one that would bring good tides with it.

"I will?"

"Srane:" /yes/ the woman makes a hand gesture to add weight to her words. "The clan sees value in the vivid fish. You caught it, and killed it cleanly before bringing it to us; thus they now see value in you." Her hand lifts to press just below his sternum: "Trust is slow to earn, and fear hard to beat. But the vivid fish comes with a promise of ease and safety, so it is a strong step forward. Most will still be wary of you, but they shall not threaten or chase you away. Eywa has given you a gift, and you passed her gift to us. It is why Tonowari had an easy time gaining the help of the village in locating you when you went missing." That and his young age, though Oìeetxo did not feel the need to mention that part- it was a given. 

"He did not have to order harshly?" Spider asked, curious about the events of the previous day.

The woman shook her head, her tattoos a blur with the movement: "He only had to state you had disappeared, and help came."

Spider could not help the small smile that climbed on his face. The Olo'eyktan had not even had to ask for help, the village had volunteered. Jake had made it seem like they hadn't wanted to help with the search, but it had been the opposite. Spider had actually done something of value and managed to bring some comfort to the clan. He would find a way to do so again, without setting the village on a wild goose chase this time. He felt a sense of pride and readiness in his chest. For once taking a breath did not ache.

"I appreciate it." 

"I know, but sometimes thanks need not be given. We are simply glad a child is safe. Oe fwew txankrr" /i searched for a long time/ The woman places a hand on his head now, pressing on his dreads gently. It is a strange motion, one he's seen Jake do to Neteyam. "I am too old to go to the jungles, so I swam in the waters, and I very much wished to find you. My son felt the same, though his strength is still with him, so he braved the wilds."

"Uexo is your son, right?" Spider tried to confirm his suspicion. 

"Maitan. 'Awve tsonta 'ongokx:" /my son. first to be born (my first born)/ She confirmed with a softness to her face. When talking about her child the woman's eyes creased with mirth, a brightness and youth on her face that wasn't otherwise present. "He was the one to tell me to not mind you. I admit I would have been more apprehensive of you had he not told me otherwise. Especially since my daughter did not share the sentiment." The admission came naturally, Spider did not find himself upset by it. He preferred people to be honest, and this woman seemed exactly that.

"Oe luan poan irayo. Your son seems clear-headed and capable. You must be very proud." /i owe him thanks/ 

She smiles: "Prouder each day. What a wonder children are. Mine are all grown, and yet they stay forever my children. What relief Toruk Makto must have felt finding you, his son alive and well." 

"Kaltxi Oìeetxo." /hello Oìeetxo/ Tonowari speaks, as he suddenly joins the conversation. The people that had a moment ago surrounded him had dissipated, perhaps their curiosity finally sated. "I see you have found your way to Spider."

"Yes, Olo'eyktan. I wished to see the boy well for myself, and Uexo shall also be glad of the news." 

Tonowari is terribly gentle with his tone when speaking to the woman. Perhaps this was an addition for older people specifically? He must have known Oìeetxo all his life, and Spider knew how close and attached Na'vi got to their elders. Mo'at had been known by every clan member rather intimately, a bond being formed at some point in their lives with the woman that had already seen many years. It was easy to get to know those who lead your people, for your road through life will most likely make its way to them at some point. You see the Tsahìk for your hurts and sicknesses, and who doesn't get sick at some point in their lives? You meet the Olo'eyktan in your formative years when you break rules or act like too much of an unruly teenager; or perhaps later in life when joining the rank of warriors.

There was even a proverb for it, one that Spider could not quite remember now. 

Spider had tuned out of the conversation.

"What is next for the boy? Surely you have a way to ensure such a thing won't repeat? What if another current takes him again and he doesn't get lucky enough to find his way back?" The woman was worried, but not to the extent of being upset. There was trust in her for Tonowari. She was asking about his plan for now, but sounded more sure than questioning, as if already knowing he had a plan, and simply wished to know it.

"Aonung or I shall teach Spider the way of the water." Tonowari shares the information freely.

"Not Tsireya?" Oìeetxo questions, this time a furrow in her brow, one that quickly disappears when she suddenly has a look of understanding: "Ah, she is Tsahìk to be, she is healing the wounded with Ronal. I was wondering why I had not seen her around. She has not visited me since the battle."

Tonowari nods happily along: "I shall remind her to see you. However, it may take her a moment still. It is not often we have so many wounded, the worst is behind and almost all are cured and well, but it is a learning opportunity that we hope will never repeat itself. It would be a tragedy to see so many of our people hurt in battle once more, but now that it has happened we must allow it to have a positive impact as well. Tsireya's priority is with her training, and she had found herself quite busy beside her mother."

"Ah, she is doing the right thing channeling her energy to those she can help. She will make a fine Tsahìk for both her good heart, and her willingness for action. She is much like her mother, though her eternal softness has another source." The woman pats Tonowari's side affectionately. Now that Spider is seeing the two so close he wonders if there is a familiar relation there. They do share something in appearance, looking quite alike despite the difference in age, build, and gender.

"So it is..."

For a moment there is silence. Spider does not break it.

"Well, I do not wish to keep the boy from seeing the Tsahìk. Ronal must be waiting, so I shall take my leave:" The woman made a respectful gesture to Tonowari, and then pressed a hand to Spider's ribs: "If you are in need my Marui is the one farthest from the coast in that line of Maruis." The woman twists her body to point behind herself. She lives quite close to the cookfires.

"Irayo. Hayalovay Oìeetxo:" /thank you. until next time Oìeetxo/ Spider smiles and replies. He knew he would not take up the woman's offer. She'd already searched for him at her grand age, and he did not wish to take advantage of her open kindness, but he stored away the information somewhere deep in his mind anyway. He felt... Honored. And strangely looked after.

Chapter Text

"Oìeetxo is Ronal's mother:" Tonowari speaks out of the blue while they are on their way to his home.

Spider's head jerks to look up at the man. "Oh?"

Tonowari humms: "She is a marvelous woman. As is my mate. They have more in common than one would think." 

Spider thinks about the glimpses of the Tsahìk he'd seen in the past. Personally, he couldn't see the resemblance. Even in appearance, he'd thought Oieetxo looked like Tonowari instead of his mate. 

"I thought she might be your mother, Olo'eyktan. You look alike." Spider blurts out when Tonowari looks at him expectantly; and like an idiot, he can't think of anything else to say.

It seems to not matter. The Metkayina leader throws his head back, stops in his tracks, and starts to laugh. It's a loud honey-toned sound that ends in a chuckle. "Though no one has told me so before; Jake Suli said the same when he first arrived. Just as Ronal is alike to her mother, you are to your father." 

And there it is again, the strange claim that he was Jake's son. Sure he belonged to and was the responsibility of Jake here. Traditionally speaking that is. But he certainly wasn't Jake's kid. He leaves the matter alone.

"Oìeetxo takes children off of tired parents. Takes them to learn about plants in the jungle or animals in the ocean. A karyu is what she was made to be. I was often in her care as a child, and when my mother died she took on the parental role." Tonowari is still smiling, though he looked a bit less happy than a moment before. "By then I was a grown man and Aonung was on his way." /a teacher/

Spider slowly nodded. Now that he thought of it Mo'at on occasion would extend her motherly affection to Jake just as she did Neytiri. Lo'ak would sometimes make jokes about how his father would stutter and blush; uncomfortable, but appreciative of the attention. From what Spider knew Jake and his brother had raised each other on earth so it must have felt strange to the man to have a mother caring for him. Spider did love the idea that parents of a mated pair would care for both. He knew he'd never experience it, since he could never mate. There weren't people of his species in his age range. But still- that yearning for a parent was familiar, and it felt good to know that at least some people could have that want fulfilled. Even after the death of their own parents.

"She must make a wonderful teacher:" Spider said, entertained by the thought of Oìeetxo being surrounded by inquisitive children. 

"She does." 

They fall into silence for a while again.

"I have never met a person that Oìeetxo likes and approves of that Ronal doesn't eventually warm up to." Tonowari's voice is low. They are close to the Marui now, and he doesn't want his mate to hear. "Speak from the heart, show respect to the clan, and don't make her feel stupid. She will give you a chance." 

Entering the home of Tonowari and his mate was slightly less unnerving than last time. There was still a deep feeling in Spider that told him he should not be here, despite him being very openly invited. He kept turning his conversation with Tonowari in his head over and over.

During daylight like this, the home was much brighter and smelled of herbs instead of the coal of a roaring nighttime fire. The light shone through the open gaps of weaving to allow in plenty of light, most likely needed for Ronal to work. There was a separate Marui for healing, somewhere in the village but it was clear the Tsahìk brought her work home. Remedies of all sorts were littered around, baskets and pots of liquids and herbs scattered about. Spider had no doubt the home was usually more tidy, but since the battle, there was more need for healing and less time for cleaning. 

The Olo'eyktan and Tsahìk's home was much different from the Sully Marui. Now in a better light, and with less anxiety when approaching it Spider could see it more clearly. The Marui was fully above the sea for one thing, and only one thin woven path led to it, as it was the Marui furthest to the sea. The water below looked deep enough to quickly dive into without worry of hitting the sea floor. The tree root the ceiling was attached to were a perfect, high arch, that pulled the home much higher into the air than other Maruis. It was clearly visible, and easily distinguishable from the others, not for its grandeur, but rather because it was clearly meant to be approachable. 

Spider came to the conclusion that it was on purpose. Tonowari and Ronal wanted their people to be able to come to them with anything. They sought a location where they could protect their clan the best; between the rest of the village and anyone approaching from the sea. Their Marui was not some pompous, luxurious show of power; there were no trophies of conquest displayed, or rare dyes or weavings used; it was rather just like any other home.

The Sully Marui was shaped like a pyramid, with a tall sharp upwards pointing roof, and triangle-shaped flooring. This Marui was shaped more like a walnut. Or well, two walnuts. The rather open and inviting Marui had another one almost directly above it, hanging from a higher point of the massive root system. It was gently attached to the main part of the Marui with largely gapped woven netting one could easily climb up to enter. The higher Marui had large tan and brick red fabric shading it from the sun like a stretched-out umbrella, and it covered almost the whole thing, leaving only a gap to enter the home. That was where the family slept.

While Tonowari and Ronal did wish to be approachable, at night they wanted privacy for their family. Thus they had built the higher Marui as a more private area of the home. A place that would stay cool even during heatwaves and would give them an opportunity for uninterrupted family time. It was a clever way to build and the idea had been used by a few other village families too.

The Marui impressed Spider. He loved the details of teal and green around the home, and how the woven path was more sparse and reminded him of a spider's net. Even with the family preferring a simple style of weaving, and common dye colors, there still seemed to be so much to look at and marvel.

His thoughts stilled in his head when he saw the Tsahìk: Ronal's appearance would fool a man who had not heard her speak or move. One would think her sweet and peaceful by default due to her large round eyes, gentle bone structure, and motherly form. They would be fools to underestimate her even when she was so far along in her pregnancy. Spider had only seen glimpses of the woman, and they left a wholly different picture than the one she made now. In her own home, grinding down flower petals with a pestle made of bone her body was calm and relaxed. Her movements were almost sluggish, and there was no doubt that her being so far along left her tired. She hummed a tune, occasionally reaching over to pick up more petals and add them to her mortar. She knew she was safe here and could allow her body to ease into a well-known routine.

Previously after the battle her movements had been precise and fast, like a striking viper, her whole body moving in an almost snake-like manner, her mouth curling to a hiss, baring her teeth and snapping at people as she moved with certainty and hurry from one injured person to another. 

Back then she'd been under duress yet in her element; her orders rough and demanding to keep things in motion, to allow none to be useless. She'd sent some of the coldest looks Spider's way that he'd ever encountered, and he'd truly seen her as the formidable woman she was. However brief it had been. He would have been an idiot if he'd approached her then, or gotten in her way.

It was... Nice to see a more calm side of the Tsahìk though Spider stayed wary, and focused on her even now. He wished for her neutrality at the very least so he needed to be well-behaved and quick-witted. With women like Ronal, you were either a step ahead or cowering behind the shelter of her calm-natured husband. Spider did not want to make himself seem like a coward under Tonowari's protection. He wanted to earn Ronal's understanding by his own deeds.

"Oe nìwäte tung nga nemfa oeyä kelku tawtute:" /i begrudgingly allow you into my home skyperson/ Ronal speaks after Tonowari has left Spider behind at the entrance of the Marui and walked over to her; placing a comforting hand on her shoulder to greet her. The woman leans her cheek briefly to the top of her mate's hand before letting go of her tools to sign at him. Her gestures were rapid, while her speech was slow and methodical. 

For a moment Tonowari simply looks at her, his hand lifting to pet her wavy hair instead. He nods in agreement with something, crouches to briefly lay his palm on her swollen belly, and then leaves the Marui. Spider listens to the ocean splash as Tonowari dives in, not walking past Spider again to leave, and the boy is left wishing the Olo'eyktan had not gone. 

"Tsahìk. Txo ngenga vin oe tsonta hayum oe nìnew:" /clan leader. if you ask for me to leave i voluntarily will/ Spider says, his voice clear, and honest. A small part of him wished the Tsahìk would not turn him away.

"Lumpe?" /why/ Ronal simply asks, continuing on her task at hand. Her back is still turned to Spider, as she works in the same place Tonowari had, the last time that Spider had been here. Her hands however are rougher with the pestle now than they had been before.

"Oe leioae ngenga, Tsahìk. Oe kame ngaenga. Oe kayem si na ngaenga kxìm:" /i respect you, clan leader. i understand you. i will do as you command/ The promise is a heavy one. Spider is practically giving Ronal the right to order him out of the village entirely if she so wishes to. But forcing his presence at the Omatikaya hometree had never been the right entry to the clan, so perhaps another approach was needed here. If he was to stay he did not want to be something the Tsahìk wished to be rid of, he wanted to be a productive member of the clan, and if she did not see any promise in him; he would leave without fighting her order.

The grinding of bone to stone stops. A breeze wafts through the Marui, leaving Ronal's hair to gently move with it. Spider wonders how the woman feels now, pondering about his right to be here in the Metkayina village. His body shivers for no reason.

"Is that so?" A pause: "And if I order you to leave the island forever?" Her voice now is more light, curious perhaps, her head moving a fraction his way, so he can spot a bit of her eyes locking onto his.

"Then I shall:" Spider promises. He brings his hands behind his back, interlacing his fingers there to squash the need to wring out his fingers in his nervousness. His thumb and forefinger rubbed together. He squared his shoulders, set a sure look upon his face, and then waited for judgment.

Ronal thinks. It is evident on her face, as expressionless as it is now that she is seizing him up, trying to see what kind of boy Spider is now, and what kind of man he could be. It was easier to see the future of a monster in him, a skyperson as he was. His hands could hold a gun easier than hers, and it had been others of his species she'd seen covered in her people's blood at the battle; waving around weapons designed to kill Na'vi. His build was strong in comparison to most skypeople she'd seen on the ship; this she saw clearly. Living on Pandora from birth had made him better than the other skypeople in many ways. Faster, bigger, stronger, more dexterous, and in tune with his environment, able to see and comprehend things further than other humans.

The boy would be a formidable man and opponent among his own people. A path of murder, conquest, and glory awaits him there, should the boy ever reach for it. His strength compared to skypeople was rather obvious. He was wider, more muscled, more understanding of his bearings here, capable of many feats the average skyperson man would be incapable of. On the skypeople's side he would be a beast unleashed based on his structure and strength, all of it emphasized by his skillset.

Yet this was not what he was now. No. Standing at the Marui door was a boy used to being judged. One that wished to make his own way, and learn from the Metkayina. One that simply wished to stay with his siblings. Ronal could see the boy under the shell of a monster. This skyperson had a soul. A proper one. Momentarily Ronal wondered why she had been afraid to let him into the village. They were Na'vi, and compared to them the boy was a teeny tiny thing. A child still.

Would it be foolish to allow him to stay? Ronal was more inclined to be critical and suspicious, but the boy did begin to intrigue her. The question was if she was willing to risk the chance of him rapidly changing as he grew and thus becoming a threat they would need to neutralize. 

"You say you have respect:" Ronal begins after a moment. She chooses her words carefully: "You claim you understand how I feel about you being in my home; amongst my people and my children. Yet we have not spoken before. I ask you how you are so sure of your comprehension of me."

Spider's heart clenches at the answer he knows hurts the most: "You are a mother. You are the Tsahìk. But you are not the first Tsahìk to not want me with her people, nor the first mother to not want me near her children."

At that Ronal fully turns her head his way. The implication behind his words is not lost on her. 

He speaks of Neytiri. 

Chapter Text

Ronal leaves it at that. She stays alert and thoughtful; keeping her eye on the tawtute in her Marui. /skyperson/ But harassing him to leave isn't something she intends to do anymore. She trusts in the capability of her people, and doesn't see Spider as the same level of a threat now that she's seen him so close, and clearly unwell. Her mate had told her the sun had lashed out at the boy, and first it sounded like such an incomprehensible thing she thought it was Eywa's doing. Her will. Until Jake Sully told them it was a skyperson thing that happened on earth as well. So it seemed a more inherent flaw in evolution and rose Ronal's interest. 

"When did your skin begin to... Change?" She asked the boy, setting the concoction she was currently making aside. 

Spider replied with a small shrug: "Quickly after my arrival here, Tsahìk." 

"And you asked for no help? How have you been treating it?" Ronal asked, her mind observing silently. She was a healer at heart. Healing Kiri had been largely spiritual, but this boy simply needed traditional medicine. Only which kind? What type of application was required? What ingredients should she use and how should she prepare them? Was she to make a paste or a more watery substance? Did the peeling skin need to be pulled off first and would he bleed from it? She could see no blood on the boy now. A lot more went into healing than one would think, and even with her years of learning and knowledge, Ronal did not know the answers to all ailments. The boy had a... Temporary condition of a type she'd never seen before, so she would need to create something new.

It was not every day she had the chance to advance the art of healing like this. Safe to say she was... Excited even through her apprehension of working to heal a skyperson. 

Spider looked away a moment, not meeting Ronal's eyes for his answer: "I haven't."

"You chose to allow it to get worse? Idiotic."

"I apologize Tsahìk. I'd never seen it happen to anyone before and I did not know how to heal it:" Spider's voice was soft, but firm.

Ronal huffed an annoyed sound that drew back the attention of the boy's eyes. "This is why children have adults to ask for aid from:" She saw resolution set in the boy's eyes. A strange look for a child to have outside the prospects of more food or playtime.

"Tsahìk it was not an option:" He says, one hand slowly curling to a loose fist, not in a threatening way but rather in frustration and impulse. She made note of it but said nothing merely huffing again in annoyance. Jake Sully should have brought the boy to her sooner, now it would take longer and use more ingredients to help him, which meant more time she needed to have the 'eveng tawtute in her home. /child skyperson/ 

"Snonnra slu tìmeyp. Vin srung mì zusawkrr:" /arrogance becomes weakness. ask for assistance in the future/ her voice raises slightly, causing the boy to drop his head down and stare at the floor beneath him. He acts like a child scolded before a mother. Good. At least he knows how to take orders and judgment when it is given. Especially from a Tsahìk.

Ronal stares. The boy seems set on not replying in agreement or otherwise. For a while Ronal waits, annoyance rising within her. Finally, she huffs once more and orders the boy to extend his arms to her so she may inspect his skin. She mutters away at the condition of the boy, vexed at her new discoveries.

Closer up she can see his skin has peeled more than once. It's red and pink all over though some places are worse than others. His shoulders have taken most of the damage, but when she grabs the boy by the back of the neck and makes him lean forward so far that his face touches his own knees she can see his back is just as bad. She hisses at the sight. She moves his dreads out of the way and finds the skin below the hair is not as bad, but very irritated from the coarse texture of his hair. It seems his dreads have swayed back and forth across his back and rubbed the skin there so much that as the boy is stretched forward now; blood prickles in tiny drops where the skin is driest. Like a cracked scab.

Ronal has seen warriors do this before. Try to act tougher than they are and thus refuse treatment only to be forced to come to her once it gets unbearable. Stupidity and pride seems to run in the skypeople children as much as it does in some Na'vi.

Just as Ronal opens her mouth to speak the boy beats her to it: "You would help then?."

"What?"  The boy stays silent. It is irritating. Ronal grumbled low deciding to deal with the boy as she would a toddler. She ran her thoughts through the conversation. That analytical side of her grows silent as quickly as her eyes narrow; she stares at him and hisses baring her teeth: "Nga stxxenutìng oe zoplo!" /you offer me insult!/ Her shoulders rise in anger, brows furrowing and her face forming a grimace. "I am Tsahìk! You think me incapable of treating your ailments?!"

She takes hold of the boy's dreads, pulling him up by it to sit straight again. She is not necessarily forceful, but she isn't gentle either. She wants to see the boy's face as he gives his answer. She had her expectations for the boy's reaction, but it certainly wasn't accurate to what she found. He looks so utterly sad. Defeated really. It had been in his tone too. By reflex she loosens her grip and relaxes her hand. She brushed it off by thinking it was merely a reaction to his small size. He looked so easy to maim and in case she was hurting him enough for him to cry, it was by accident not by plan. 

"I do not think you incapable, Tsahìk. I think you unwilling."  The boy gulps with his answer, unsure of if he is crossing a line. Ronal is watching him so intently. His eyes can't hold her gaze for long, he feels mortification by the fact that he can feel the tears on his face, stinging the skin of his cheeks. By Eywa he felt so weak here. Ronal does not speak to him. So his eyes settle on hers again. Ronal has the largest eyes on any Na'vi Spider has ever seen. Nearly as big as the white oval seashell that decorates her forehead, dangling from a small headpiece. He did not mean to talk back to the Tsahìk- in fact, that was something he decidedly never wanted to do. But his words had been misunderstood and he'd tired the cowards way out with silence. Now the situation required full honesty. 

Shame is what Ronal feels. She is surprised by it. But it is there and real; just as she feels regret over speaking of the Sully's demon blood, now that she has seen the Sully children protect her daughter during the skypeople attack. And the loathing she'd set ablaze in her own son's heart for a moment against the Sullys caused her grief. This skyperson boy was an enigma to her. It was as if her instincts were telling her to make him leave and not return, to chase him as far as she could and to ensure he did not know his way back. But something else... Something deeper was telling her to trust. To see what the boy wants; what his end goal is. Is it Eywa's encouragement or simply authentic curiosity?

She is unsure, and Ronal hates the feeling of not knowing. 

For a moment she ponders. She had already made her choice of letting him stay, but now she felt as though she needed to make a much more massive decision. Should she let him stay but keep him under scrutiny; or aid him in integrating into her culture?

Her mate has certainly already made up his mind, searching for the boy when he was gone, sending out his men too; all because the boy caught the vivid fish. Or had her mate felt this... This need to let the boy be as well? Now he even considered teaching the boy the way of the water himself as he had taught Jake Sully. Tonowari had refused to speak of this skyperson child. Even when she'd tried to bring up the subject again after she'd known the boy had been to their home. Had he known her heart would lead her the same as his and fighting her before she could See that would only make it harder?

Ronal trusted her mate's judgment. 

"I am willing:" She whispers. It wasn't even a fully conscious choice, more something that slipped out as her thoughts began to quickly lead her another way than she'd expected.

The ocean lapped somewhere below them. It sounded content. Ronal felt a breeze run through the Marui again she turned her face towards it, allowing it to cool her, center her, and bring her to the present. Decisions were made and now Eywa would lead the way forward. 

"I am willing:" She repeats, louder this time, turning her eyes towards the boy. "We will treat your skin and cuts today. You will explain your body to me, and I will listen. I will learn. And when necessary I will heal you. It has been decided." There is devotion in her voice. Certainty. The latter of which she does not truly feel yet, but perhaps later she shall. 

The boy looks at her with surprise. His crying has subsided as quickly as it started. Now there is simply a drop on the glass of his mask and tracks down his face. 

Ronal ignores it, feeling the boy's embarrassment and choosing to look at the hair she was still holding. The boy has the same hairstyle as Jake Sully, but his looks... Wrong. Messy and unkempt and all tangled and stuck together in rough, coarse clumps. Very unlike the carefully maintained dreads in Jake Sully's head. "Your hair is this texture because you are a skyperson, no?" With no response, she is left unsure and yet gives an order anyway: "You will fix it. It looks dirty and unhealthy. Hair is important to Metkayina. A source of pride. If you are to be one of us you begin to take care of yourself now." 

The boy nods ashamed.

"Sit up straight. Arms straight towards me again." 

Ronal continues her inspection. Among the sun-hurt skin, there are cuts and bruises. She can smell a simple remedy on his skin. She can feel his bones quite well; especially in his elbows and wrists. She can count his ribs as he breathes, and his cheeks seem sunken in though with his breathing contraption she can not see them very well. The boy looks terribly tired, hungry, and thirsty. Emaciated almost. She brushed off the last thought. Perhaps he had not eaten after the scare of his disappearance, but the Sully's would not let the boy go hungry enough for undernourishment. Perhaps the demons on the ship had not fed him well and this was the result of their neglect? 

Ronal had not seen the boy eating at the community cookfires. So he was eating in his home in the Sully Marui then. Ronal would not insult the Sully's as far as to claim or give thought to them letting the boy skip meals in his own home. All Na'vi children ate all given meals. And Jake Sully would surely ensure the boy ate as well as his sons-... hit other son.

The boy had bruises on his knees too, and his muscle mass seemed a little lesser than it had been right after the battle. She'd think the boy had been lazy, but somehow she doubted it. The village had gossiped about his contribution of fish to the clan.

She moved her hands down his arms, bit by bit to discover all ailments along the way, finally ending at his hands, holding them by his palms, telling him to unclench and clench his fingers to watch the way they moved. The extra finger was strange to Ronal. The underneath of his fingernails was caked with dirt. The boy had been digging for something. This was confirmed by the old blood around his fingertips. Small cuts ran up his wrists, and palms too, but Ronal could not tell what they were from. She'd never seen anything alike it before. The skin below his eyes was darker than the rest and his eyes had a glassy look to them, with the edges of them red and irritated. Maybe from the crying? 

Watching him from the perspective of a healer left her with a different image than her observations of him at the mouth of the Marui. He'd seemed well built then, with a wide chest and shoulders, strong arms, and lengthy legs- for a human that is. But as a healer, he looked a little like something had dragged him through the jungle and left him there thirsty and hungry to find his own way back.

It felt abnormal to have Ronal's hands inspecting him in a medical sense or touching him at all really. Spider was used to the scientists mainly Norm and Max doing his physicals and treating his wounds, hardly ever did anyone from the Omatikaya clan do it. The last time he'd had medical aid it had been from his father. Maybe that's why Ronal's hands felt so strange. They weren't his hands. He had to distract himself by watching Ronal instead.

Metkayina had different bone structures, wider palms, and extra muscles in their arms creating width and thus more surface to swim with speed. Their biology was adapted to the ocean and its traversal. Ronal's hands were large and sure on him, a little tighter and harsher with her prodding than Tonowari had been, but relatively gentle for a Na'vi. She did seem to be trying to be very careful, but on his sensitive irritated skin, it just wasn't enough. Sometimes he had to bite down to silence a hiss. There was no hissing at the Tsahìk. That would be unacceptable. Especially now that she seemed set on letting him stay and maybe even being alright to help him should he get injured in the future. 

He wouldn't come to ask for help if he could avoid it, but it was nice to know the option was there in case he lost a limb or something. 

"Will you regain your skin once your shedding is done?" Ronal asks.

"Yes, Tsahìk."

"And is it tender?" 

"Yes." 

"The new skin that emerges underneath will it be stronger in some way?"

"No Tsahìk, it will be the same as the skin there before."

"The peeling is not a way to adapt then, and the sun shall strike you again once you are healed?" 

"Yes."

"You say you have not seen this before, but has this happened to you before? With the Omatikaya?"

"No, tsahìk."

She dropped his hands, letting them fall to his sides again: "Do you not wish to be healed?" 

Spider stared confused: "I do. I appreciate your help, Tsahìk, but I do not wish to waste village recourses."

"Then give me proper answers. You answer with one word, you speak stiffly, you tell me no detail. I am not simply healing you; I am trying to learn your species. I have not treated a skyperson before. I do not know how your body works, or what this strange ailment you have is. If I am to have any chance at making a remedy I need to understand how your body works, what is causing this reaction, and how to prevent or at least lessen it. All I know is that the sun has harmed you, I do not understand how nor what to do about it." She speaks quickly, annoyance growing as she rushes through her words, wondering how this is not obvious to the boy already. He was the first skyperson to be in the village properly, and the Metkayina certainly did not have a habit of healing their own enemies. "Healing a child is never a waste:" She adds as if an afterthought.

"Forgive me Tsahìk, I will try harder:" Spider relents, thinking back to her last question and giving a real answer this time: "This is the first time. The sun here is direct and hotter. I can not hide from it well. In the forest, the tops of the trees were a constant cover. Tsahìk- unless I stay in the jungle I will burn here:" Spider hoped the permanence of the issue would not make Ronal simply give up. He'd felt a growing concern over it. It made no sense to get into the science of UV rays, SPF, or the medical explanation of how sunburns happen. There were no words for most of it in Na'vi and Ronal did not speak a word of English. Even if she did speak the language most Na'vi were far too spiritual to understand science even as a concept though they used it in their own remedies, and concoctions without knowing.

Everything in the world works on a formula. But Spider and the Na'vi had grown up seeing the formula as nature's gifts and Eywa's way. Even if Spider was taught math, physics, and chemistry among other things by Norm, he could barely understand any of it himself so there was no sense trying to explain to Ronal all of this the hard way.

"I see:" The woman looks thoughtful, momentarily she brings her hand to her chin, rubbing the tattoos that curved upwards there. "Here where the hurt is worst your body stores water?" She grasps his arm from the elbow and pulls the boy towards herself to see the upper parts of his arms better. 

Spider looks closer himself: blisters, small ones and easily unnoticeable run down the tops of his arms, and a few on his particularly pained shoulders. His biceps have the biggest ones though they too are small enough to have gone unseen by him. "Ah, they are-" Spider does not know the word for blisters in Na'vi. He has to use English: "The skypeople word is 'blisters' they come with strong burns, eventually the taut skin will tear and the liquid will come out. It will leave an open wound under but it will heal fast."

"Blistrss?" Ronal repeats thinking a moment and then realization flashes on her face: "The sun is like fire to you?"

"What do you mean?" Spider tilts his head in confusion.

"If you were burned badly by fire, you would get this also? Na'vi do too. I have only seen it once when I was a very little girl. Na'vi skin is tough, takes a long time for fire to cause such an injury to us. So it is rare. For you the sun does this?" Ronal looks closer, her big eyes inches from his shoulders. 

Spider understands now and confirms Ronal's hypothesis. Suddenly the woman looks twice as interested as she did before. 

She nods along as she mumbles something under her breath, quiet and unclear enough for Spider to not understand. "I shall treat it like a burn wound then. But a more permanent solution is needed. The demons on their ships, what did they do to protect them from such hurt? I saw none as pink as you in the battle."

"They took turns. They would switch who was outside and who was inside the boat to ensure they weren't in the sun all day. They also covered their skin with fabric:" Spider knew he'd been outside more than the other humans. His father had no issue with the sun in a Na'vi body and preferred to keep Spider close, so his spot was the one place on deck that had proper shade.

"Hmm. Perhaps we need to cover you also. Have you any tawtute wearings?" /skyperson/ Ronal posed the question casually while turning to the side, leaving Spider as he was beside her. She began gathering herbs and bowls from near herself and trying to choose what exactly to use on Spider.

Spider made a face that she didn't see; the disdain was evident in his voice anyway: "I do not like to wear them, Tsahìk."

"For your health, you should:" Ronal says, voice light but with that tiny bit of weight to it that came straight from her being a mother. She did not manage to keep it out of her voice even with a boy she did not consider her own. 

Spider considered it. He hated the feeling of human clothing. The Na'vi didn't even have a word for clothing. They had their tewngs and jewelry, weaved and beaded ponchos, and cape-like fabrics. 'Wearings' they'd call them. /loincloths/ Spider knew he'd heal faster if covered from the sun, but the idea of itchy clothes and the scratching on his skin seemed like hell. But healing faster meant using fewer recourses: "Mr. Sully has asked for more rebreathers from Norm, he can bring me some then."

Ronal looks irate, turning to give a fierce look to Spider. It doesn't seem directed at him personally, and for the first time, Ronal asks him a question that has nothing to do with his ailments or staying: "I do not want them in my village again. The short one and the dream walker. Why must they come?" 

"I have only one mask. If it breaks I will die. Another one can save me if I act fast:" It was a simple answer, one that caused a tremor in Ronal's spine. She was unsure if it was because her baby chose to kick at that moment, or because of how disgusted she was about how casually this child could speak of his own demise.

She allows her eyes to trail the edges of the rebreather: "They will bring you another?"

"Yes, Tsahìk."

Ronal turns her body to the boy again, setting down whatever bowl she'd just been holding: "This mask... It is the greatest weakness of a skyperson yes? If it cracks, you will die?" 

Spider nods, unnerved by the inquisitiveness in the Tsahìk's eyes. "The air of Eywa'eveng is poisonous to all skypeople. This is what makes the air safe for me." /pandora/

"In the battle, I broke one on the face of a man. Though I did not strike a killing blow he did not get up again:" Her voice is so calm and collected, no concern in it at all, she rubs her fingers to her palm, her other hand landing on her belly to feel her baby kick once more. "How do you take it off?" 

Spider's back straightens as he gets on high alert. He did not expect that question. Hearing the woman speak of killing so casually too... Was creepy at the very least. His mask was not to be meddled with, and all the Omatikaya had known that back in the forest. It was not touched even as a joke, nor should the Sully kids roughhouse with him above the shoulders. The risk was just too great. It made sense Ronal would be curious about the rebreather, he was quite sure all the Metkayina were, having most likely only seen them in battle. Spider suddenly had a strange thought, a hunch really.

"Tsahìk... Did you agree to heal me so you could see if my ailment was a weakness?" 

Ronal's eyes left the mask and bore deep into his eyes, then she smiled. He'd never seen her smile before. Not that he'd seen her that much at all, but something in his gut said that her smile was a rare sight to witness. "I did. I do not know much about skypeople. I know of their crimes and their cruelty. But I do not know their bodies or how they fight, their weapons are strange to us, and their way of transportation is unknown. I feel I learned much in the battle, but it is not enough:" She conversed as if she were talking about the weather; small talk that did not matter. "Our warriors are good fighters but they know us better than we know them. We fight, blind to the enemy. You were here, and I needed to know if the sun attacking you would help us against them. And I did see the benefit of observing your body closer. Even if for now I have deemed you to not be a threat, you still breathe with the same lungs, your heart beats the same, and your limbs have the same strength. The fact that you wear one of those things on your face is only another opportunity to understand a weakness better."

Spider sat silent. 

"Does this upset you, child?" 

"No:" Spider answers almost immediately. He did not need time to think it over: "I think it proves you a resourceful leader. A mindful one. Skypeople say knowledge is power. Everything they learned of the Omatikaya they turned against them. Mr. Sully changed the tide of the previous war with knowledge. It is time all the Na'vi do the same."

Ronal feels immensely pleased by the response. Not only because of the praise for her leadership, but because suddenly she sees another side of the boy. The one that is a true and utter betrayer of his own species. He is here and willing to be used to knowledge to gain an edge against the skypeople even though he is one. The boy is more Na'vi, and more loyal than Ronal would have guessed. He also clearly had the mind of a strategist. It would be a pity to see such talent go to waste. He'd finally dropped the overly polite way of speaking, and hadn't called her Tsahìk once.

Pleasure curled in her core. She wanted more proof still. But the boy was one of them.

"Oeru syaw Ronal te Folku've Oìeetxo'ite:" /i am called Ronal Folku've (family name) Oìeetxo's daughter/ The Tsahìk introduced herself in a more official way. For Na'vi when this was done you were allowed to speak more casually to the person. Of course, as Ronal was the Tsahìk Spider would still need to be respectful, and use more honorific forms, but he wouldn't have to constantly refer to her as Tsahìk anymore if he didn't wish to do so. He could use her name. 

"Oel ngati kameie Ronal:" /i see you Ronal/ Spider jumped to say, taken aback by the sudden change in both the topic of conversation and the woman before him. 

The woman sat. Staring. Waiting. Spider wasn't sure what for but her gaze was intense. More so than it had been in the start. As the seconds ticked on the more insecure he was about what he was doing, just sitting there like an idiot. Zero thoughts in his head, he must have lost some brain cells after the battle. By Eywa the Tsahìk was waiting for him to do something and he had no idea what it was. Brain-dead. He must be brain-dead. What had he done when Tonowari had introduced himself officially? He couldn't remember. Names are important to Metkayina he knew that. Idiot. He'd never before in his life felt more like a moron. She'd given no response to I See you. Had he done it wrong? No, he never did it wrong, it was lodged somewhere deep within him with how much he'd repeated the gesture and said the words in his life. How did he ever pass any of the weird tests on Na'vi culture that Norm had given him? 

"Oh. Oh!" Spider suddenly had an embarrassing eureka moment. "Oeru syaw Spider te Socorro Paz'itan:" /i am called Spider Socorro Paz's son/

"Oel ngati kameie Spirr Paz'itan."

Holy shit. Even an idiot can sometimes do something right.

Chapter Text

Spider didn't tell Ronal she was saying his name all wrong. A skyperson being told he's Seen by the Tsahìk was a huge deal. Spider was over the moon. He'd accomplished what he wanted and more. Neutrality had been his best bet, instead, he was now allowed to call her by her first name; though he, of course, would not; and she did not seem annoyed to be helping him anymore. An extremely fickle trust or at the very least acceptance had been formed. Much better than anything he'd been expecting. 

And besides 'Spirr' was growing on him. 

The boy could hold his breath for a decent amount of time. Ronal was almost impressed. Sensibly it was nothing compared to the Metkayina, but it was a good start. Certainly better than the Sullys had been. Even now the boy sat in front of her, legs crossed face focused in concentration, not letting air in or out. "Show me the weakest spots again Spirr:" Ronal requested, holding the mask in her hands as Spider pointed to three different spots on the mask with a finger, showing a sign of hitting on one of them. Since the boy could not speak Ronal took that for meaning that the spot required extra force to break from the other two. "And show me how it's put on again?" He did. 

For about 30 minutes Ronal had taken her time to learn about the strange human weakness of needing the face-covering device. Spider had taught her how to take it off, where to hit it, where to grab it. How to cleverly pull out a vital part of the mask, and where the battery was. Apparently, without the battery, the mask wouldn't hold air for long. Ronal learned with interest and silence. Allowing Spider to teach her. 

Spider put the mask back on, making sure to turn so she could see the back of the mask, and then where to press to seal the mask well. Earlier he'd shown her how to check if the mask's seals were damaged too, and she watched curiously as Spider double-checked the boundary between the mask and his face. Apparently, sometimes the masks could leak if the seals were damaged and it would slowly cause headaches, nausea, and even hallucinations, as the skyperson breathed minuscule amounts of the toxic Pandoran air with each breath. Could even lead to death Spider had said. 

Ronal wondered how this young boy could live with such a thing. One wrong nudge, falling down a tree, hitting his head, or too strong a current in the sea could all doom him to his death because the mask was so vital. The information she'd now learned was in its own merit priceless, and she found herself not minding the boy at all anymore. She had thought she'd find him terribly annoying, egotistical, or evil beyond comprehension, but the boy was just like any other child in the village.

Still, it did not make sense to lose your guard on a beast even if one offered aid once. And Ronal did not have the space to forget herself. The boy may seem harmless, and she may not be as wary of him anymore, but to drop her guard entirely was unacceptable. So emotionally she kept a distance. The boy took an open breath in the mask.

She'd been suspicious of the Sullys even though they were Na'vi, and this boy was a tawtute, so she'd need to be unsure of him twice as long. /skyperson/ It was her duty as Tsahìk.

"I can teach you weaknesses in the human body as well. Where to hit, where to stab, and the like." Spider offered, voice light, but body strained and clearly uncomfortable.

"No need Spirr. Today you have taught me plenty:" Ronal said, lifting her hand to signal the boy to stop. "Besides:" She began again. "Moe lu fìtsenge tsonta zoslu." /we are here to heal/

Spider let out a small sigh, he was not looking forward to the actual task at hand. He'd found fiddling with the mask and teaching its intricacies a welcome reprieve. A pause from the attention and inspection of his battered body. He realigned the chunky seashell necklace on his chest and moved his gaze to what Ronal was doing. 

"Txonam oe fmi tsonta gnop mip 'umtsa nga:" /last night i attempted to create a new medicine for you/  She begins, picking up three wooden bowls from nearby. "I made three versions, unsure of what might work or what your injury was really like. I see now it is more complicated than I thought." She watched him intently, eyes trailing along his burnt arms, still making up her mind on something about the burns. 

"What is in them? Many things of Pandora that would heal a Na'vi are poisonous to me and will simply kill me:" Spider's voice did not attempt to sound condescending, but he always worried he might still sound that way. It was not as if Ronal could have known what was deadly to him and what wasn't when she'd never interacted with skypeople properly. They'd stayed well off from Awa'atlu. This place having the most Metkayina warriors as the home of the chieftain Olo'eyktan of the whole Metkayina tribe. 

It turned out one of the concoctions, the green one that looked like ground-up seaweed with strange yellow flecks in it would have caused him terrible hives, and the black one that smelled like coal and feces would have burned his skin even more. The third had safe ingredients for a human but was also extremely slimy. It looked like clear pustule but actually smelled fresh like aloe vera, but clung to itself in big clumps that shook like jello as Ronal moved the bowl. None of the three looked like a pleasant option to spread on his skin, but Spider was just glad he didn't have to use the feces-smelling one. 

"Since your hurt is like a burn rather than a rash or chafing this will need something stronger to heal on top of its soothing abilities:" Ronal said thoughtfully, as she set the bowl on the floor between herself and the boy. "Spirr will you be hurt by dapophet pod juice?" 

Spider shook his head. It's what he used to heal in the forest, and while humans could get rashes from it, he'd used it for so many years he no longer took any negative effects from it. His body had grown used to it and adapted. For once. Now if it could learn to breathe the air and grow as tall as Na'vi he'd be golden. 

"Paywll leaves heal skin best from burns. Safe or not?" Spider tells her they are safe in moderation. "And is fresh or ocean water better for you?" 

"Ocean water is too salty, fresh is better:" Spider began to fiddle with his own hair as Ronal got to work. The state of his hair was truly awful. He didn't want to cut it but it was simply so matted he wasn't sure if he had an option. He'd always loved his dreads. He demanded to have them to copy Mr. Sully as a child, but they grew on him. Before he knew it they were a part of his identity. Something he could use to express himself and look more like his dream self. He'd always taken care of them so well. But with the recoms... He hadn't had the time nor the tools, and it hadn't been that bad before the battle. But now with his obvious neglect for his own needs, the state of his hair had plummeted; fast. 

He could feel where each matted part started and where the dreads were salvageable, but soon it was obvious his hair would be terribly uneven if he actually tried to save too much length. He'd need a sharper knife than anything he had now to cut them himself. He steeled his resolve and decided he'd deal with his hair tomorrow. Today healing and Tuk, tomorrow his hair, and a lot of chores.

Ronal kept watching the boy from the corner of her eye. He looked sad again. Touching his hair, ripping through a strand that sounded like two coarse rocks being dragged together; grimacing with hurt as he did so. Why did he make no sound when he hurt? Ronal would have thought this was a skypeople thing, had she not heard the pained screams of the ones that fell in battle. They did feel pain, they did cry and wail about it. But the boy didn't. "And the lanutral's gifts- will you be poorly from its resin?" /resin tree/

"No, it's fine. I thought the resin was used as an adhesive?"

"It is. In this case, I will use very little, and it will help the remedy to stick to your skin and stay there instead of rubbing off:" Ronal did not usually explain her healing methods. Nor did she like to be bothered when mixing ingredients, but what was happening now felt more like an equal exchange of information. From the other medicines she'd made Ronal now knew three ingredients that would cause skypeople pain. One of which was extremely common and quick to extract. It would work in their favor in the future. If the boy wished to know what an ingredient was for she'd tell, since he so blatantly offered up his weaknesses. 

Ronal focused on her work fully again, mixing gently, adding the resin she'd heated up to soften it. She wanted the texture to be smooth and not as sticky as it was now, so she added more water. It took some time, as she'd never tried this remedy before, but eventually, she had it ready and turned back to the boy: "Spirr Kämunge fì'u." /Spirr (Ronal's mispronunciation of Spider's name) take this/

The boy reached out his hands and she placed the wooden bowl in them. He brought the bowl under his face and sniffed at it, he did not seem to mind the smell and Ronal had to admit the remedy wasn't the worst when it came to smell. It could be and often was much worse. "Tsahìk how do you want me to use it? Just spread it on?"

Ronal nodded: "Everywhere you need it, press firmly as you put it on, so the resin grips on right." 

She watched as the child lowered the bowl to rest on the floor and then dipped his hands in, starting by rubbing up and down his wrists with each hand. He moved upwards from there, up his arms listening- and obeying; when Ronal would give instruction to press down harder or to move slower with the remedy. At his sore shoulders, the boy took a deep breath, before biting down on his own teeth and keeping on going. He did his sides and stomach next, though Ronal noted he didn't put any of the sticky paste around his chest, probably protecting his jewelry as any vain youth would. His legs took the longest.

The smell of the remedy, fresh but pungent like an onion before you cut into it filled the Marui. The liquid itself left Spider shiny like he had some type of goo all over him. Lathered in it as if he'd dived into clear mud. Spider's fingers were sticky, and the sensation was terribly unpleasant. Like honey all over his fingers.

Ronal watched the boy awkwardly twist and bend to reach his own back, and after a very unimpressed look thrown the boy's way she huffed, grabbed the remedy, and told the boy to turn around. 

"You don't have to-"

"Spirr I told you to turn, I am Tsahìk do as I say:" She ordered properly this time, waiting as the boy reluctantly turned his back to her. She was fast with her actions, dipping her hand into the liquid and spreading it to the boy's back with even pressure. She did not miss his tenseness or his shuffling to lean away bit by bit. The boy did not care for people's hands on his body and she could understand the apprehension, but right now she wanted this to be done with so that she could return to check on her other injured again.

She grasped the necklace the boy wore and tried moving it out of the way of the back of his neck, but the sound the boy made stopped her in her tracks. A sharp hiss of agony, and the boy toppled forwards, arching his back, face pressed to his own knees again with a whine he seemed incapable of keeping in. 

After not making a single sound of pain, even while having pressed down to his more painful burns and his bubbled blisters, he'd actually acknowledged his own pain. This must hurt more, than the others. Quickly Ronal surveyed the boy's back but didn't feel like she'd pressed too hard or scratched him at all. Twisting forward would simply cause more stretch and strain to the burnt skin of his back; Ronal could tell his ache was not from his back.

The pain was coming from the front. 

"Spirr show me the pain."

The boy did not move, only let out a wheezing gasp.

Ronal had to essentially wrangle the boy to get him to lean back and actually lie down on the floor right there. Upset still; the boy made feeble protests to keep Ronal away. Eventually, she made the connection that she'd pulled the necklace, and he'd keeled over, and before Spider could even realize what was going on, she'd snapped the thing in two and pulled it off of the boy.

It had taken half a miracle that she nor anyone else had seen the wound- oozing gash really on the young boy's chest. It was irrated, infected, and pink and red all over. It was unevenly scabbed, and some parts did gratefully have new skin coming in soft and glistening. It looked incredibly painful, purple in some parts, such an abnormal color on the boy. It looked untreated and like it was moments away from bringing death to the boy. Only Ronal was not aware of skypeople health, and as such could not be a very reliable narrator for the possible level of danger of the lesion.

Ronal hissed harshly: "What is this Spirr?!"

Chapter Text

Jake Sully paced back and forth in front of the Sully Marui. His tail slashed the air, on and on in agitation, his eyes roaming around the beach near their home. Irritated and ready to give an earful to the human boy whose arrival he awaited. He'd told the boy loud and clear he was to show himself in the mornings at the front of the Marui. Had the boy already broken his rule of no entry to the sea? Was he trying to defy his order by not showing up or was he simply sleeping in after his hard day? Not knowing left Jake unsure if he had the right to be upset or not.

The boy had looked poorly the night before, his hair a mess and his skin bruised. But that's exactly why he'd wanted to take the boy to the Tsahìk today in the first place. His own healing attempts were clumsy at best, and he wanted something better for Spider. Someone more capable and experienced. Someone who could wipe his pains away.

Denying him the sea, and making sure his order was followed was simply to protect the boy; did he not see that? The Sullys themself had slept in today, not waking until much later than the rest of the village, so if the boy was indeed asleep could Jake really fault him for it?

"Poan ke tok fìtsengit, sempu..." /he is not here, dad-daddy/ Tuk whined again for what seemed like the hundredth time since they'd come to wait at the entry of the Marui an hour or so ago. "Oe new peyä tìpähem!" /i want his arrival (i want him to come)/

"Oe omum, oe omum, Tuktirey:" /i know, i know, Tuktirey/ Jake said, absolutely exasperated, running his hand over his dreads again. It was hard to stay angry with the bouncy path under his feet. At first, Tuk had continually jumped on it waiting for Spider until she'd seemed to decide complaining and looking let down was the better response. "Poan lu hawngkrr. Lu lemweypey, prrnen'eve:" /he is late. be patient, baby girl/ Jake crossed his arms over his chest after stopping to press his hand on top of Tuk's head. 

The girl was sitting on the edge of the raised path, her feet dangling over the ocean. She stared down into the water, watching fish go about their day. "He said he'd come..." She murmured, clearly sad and hurt by the fact that she'd seemingly been forgotten. Jake's heart hurt at the sight. Tuk had been bouncing off of the wall for the first thirty minutes since the family had woken up, refusing to even sit down as she ate, instead walking around the Marui with her food as she shoved it in her mouth, listing off everything she was planning to do with Spider. Backpack rides, looking for pretty seashells, making a big sandcastle, sharing stories, and maybe a mud fight! At that, the girl had gotten a resounding no from her mother, but it had not squelched her spirits. 

It had been a while since Tuk had looked that excited. 

"He's ok, right? He isn't hurt or anything?" Tuk asked, concern evident in her voice. 

"He's fine baby girl, probably just sleeping. You know how he is, he would sleep all day if he could:" That wasn't even true. From what Jake knew Spider didn't sleep late, but woke up rather early. It was easy to feed children information since they'd take it at face value and just run with it. 

Tuk nodded; his point was proven. "He sleeps aaaages."

Jake looked around the area of Awa'atlu that he could see from their home. He was just about ready to start asking the villagers if they'd seen the boy. He was entirely done with waiting. He didn't even know where Spider's assigned Marui was. He'd have to ask-

"JAKE SULI!" The sound that echoed over the sea raised a sweat to Jake's brow, a cold shiver to his spine. As long as he might have lived on Pandora already, nothing scared him quite like an angry Na'vi woman. His own wife's rage was somehow both infamous and praised at the same time. Formidable. But at least with her he could trust a few things: Neytiri would not publically shame him, she would have his back, she would not maim him no matter how upset, they were a team, and usually when she was angry she was right and they could work on it. But an unknown Na'vi woman being mad enough at him to sound like that. Never happened before. Maybe Mo'at had come close... Once. 

This voice bellowed and bounced on the surface of the sea, sounding like it came from a multitude of directions. It was shouted from somewhere deep within, booming instead of a piercing scream. It was a resonant and deafening sound. Only one in the village would dare to yell in such a way that it would wake the whole village; the Tsahìk.

"JAKE SULI!" Ronal repeated, Jake could see of her at the mouth of her own Marui, where she stood like a statuesque god, heavily pregnant and raging. Their Marui's were far from one another, but with Tonowari and Ronal's home being so far out to sea it could be clearly viewed from their home too. Jake gulped; from the corner of his eye he could see all Metkayina nearby had stopped their daily bustling and turned to see the cause of fury within their beloved leader. Curiosity rose. 

"Daddy I think you're in troubleeee~," Tuk said, with a singsongy voice, making fun of her own father in the face of his doom. She had a huge grin on her face, clearly entertained: "Can I come watch you get yelled at?" 

"No." Jake simply retorted, sending his youngest a look that told her to drop the subject.

By Eywa he'd have to reply to that woman. He could almost tell Ronal's anger was rising by the second. He saw her take a step towards the edge of the path, getting ready to jump into the water. Somehow Jake knew that if he'd ignored her enough to force her to come to him she might just rip his head off. Spider long forgotten Jake dove into the sea before the Tsahìk could and started swimming toward her. 

His heart beating a mile a minute he felt actual fear grip his spine. It was a bigger reaction than what he would have expected of himself had he been told the day before this was coming. Was he afraid of Ronal? Maybe a little. 

He swims through the ocean as it seems to practically fight against him. Today the waves were as strong, and riotous as the Tsahìk's anger. The ocean seemed so set on punishing Jake that he even cut a bit of his wrist on sharp coral. He ignored it. As soon as he could, he reached out an arm to grasp the high path surrounding the Marui and heaved his way up to the Tsahìk's home.

He was sure he'd left the rest of the village betting on his upcoming death: "Tsahìk Ronal? What is it?" If he were a braver man, he'd have immediately asked what he'd done to upset her so, but facing the woman's ire he was a coward at best. 

Ronal hissed, stepping around on the weavings. Sometimes getting closer, sometimes taking a step back. She bared her teeth at him, and he lowered his head in shame; while keeping his eyes on her respectfully. She seemed unsure of where to start and simply resolved to keep slightly moving, unable to stand still. "Lelewng, lelewng, lewng-..." /shameful, shameful, shame/ The woman continuously mumbled under her breath between her hissing. She was quiet enough for Jake to not be able to make sense of her words.

The woman's temper really is like the sea. Jake fears it on a deeper level though he stays composed. It almost seems like Ronal is ready to rampage, itching for it, her target being him. There is a deep distress in his gut. Pregnant or not he'd seen Ronal kill in the battle. Had seen her outmaneuver opponents so far along with a baby. Had witnessed her when she thirsted blood and revenge when the aching sorrow for her spirit sister's death had set aflame; taken over by her malevolence instead. She'd used it as fuel, all her emotion gathered to be a large wave that could drown cities. Gone was sorrow and fear for Tsireya at that moment, only blood in her heart, red in her eyes. All gathered together for one goal; save her child, end the hunt for the tulkun; kill them all. 

She was not as bad now; her mind was seemingly clear even as she was upset, but she was ready to bite nonetheless. 

"Ronal, please tell me what is wrong:" Jake requested and offered his hands for her to take, only for her to bat them away harshly. He pulled them back, and lifted his palms toward her; a sign of an open surrender.

"You are not deserving of uturu:" /sanctuary/ She speaks with such conviction, far more certain of their unworthiness than when they'd first arrived. It takes Jake back. Physically also he steps away, shock even clearer on his face now.

His mind races. What could they have done? Was Ronal upset at the loss of daytime looking for Spider? Had Lo'ak done something (other than bond with a forbidden tulkun) after he'd jumped into the sea this morning? Had Neytiri sought out Ronal to fight once more? The two women seemed much more accepting of one another after Ronal was able to wake up Kiri from her coma. Neytiri never found a way to love as easily as she did through her children's safety. Perhaps Jake had been foolish to think their bickering was over? Had he done something? What?

"Hìtxoa Ronal, oe kem si ke tslam:" /sorry-excuse me Ronal, i do not understand/ Jake feels the need to apologize, worry etching itself into his gut. Though he doesn't know what he is sorry for, he has a feeling he will soon. 

She hisses again, causing him to back away even further, his brow lifting more and more in surprise at the sudden twist of events to his day.

"You do not understand?" 

"No. I thought we were all doing better. Finding our place here at Awa'atlu. The children-" Jake was cut off before he could make a case for his family.

Ronal moved her hands to sign at him to stop. She repeated it twice, her hands moving like blades as they cut through the air. It was strange how aggressive the signing of the Metkayina could appear. It was a far more emotional language than Jake had ever realized. "Your children are not the problem. You Jake Suli. YOU are not worthy:" Her hand rose to slap him on the front of his shoulder, like shoving him, but without the force pushing backward. A warning is what it was. 

Jake swallowed: "Tsahìk-"

"Tonowari said you claimed him. Spirr!" Ronal's voice was loud still, every syllable clear as day.

"Spirr?" Jake repeated confused.

"The tawtute boy!" /skyperson/ The woman cleared.

Jake understood. Ronal did not know how to say the boy's name "I did. I do." Jake agreed, hands still up, slowly lowering himself onto his knees on the path in front of the woman when she turned around to grasp a knife from nearby. Having a Tsahìk brandish a weapon at you demanded yielding, so he smartly gave way and lowered to appear obsequious. He was face to face with her pregnant belly now, though he lowered his head once more; properly this time to look down entirely. 

Was she upset over the claim? Had she suddenly decided that Spider could not stay? Extremely late last night, after Jake had already slept a moment he'd woken up to the realization that he had not debriefed Tonowari that Spider had been found. He'd bolted to find Tonowari- his brother, right then and there. He'd told him things simply, to be fast about it, they could both use the sleep, and Tonowari had promised Ronal would take a look at Spider in a medical sense. Was the woman upset Jake had asked for that? Spider's sunburn was bad and Jake was quite certain Ronal had only allowed his family to stay for the sake of their children. Did Ronal's grace not extend to a human child? The thought angers him and hardens his conviction: "He is mine. It is decided." 

"Ngeyä 'itan?" /your son/

"Srane." /yes/

"Ngeyä swapxì?" /your family member/

"Srane."

"Ngeyä tsonta hawnu sì txukxefu?" /yours to protect and care for/ 

"Srane." 

With every question Ronal gets angrier and angrier, her voice sharpening like a blade on stone. If she had hackles they would rise, her eyes narrowing as she spoke.

There is a splash in the water, a heavy weight rises to the path behind Jake, and his weight shifts with it. He feels dead set on claiming his son. His Spider. No matter what Ronal's thoughts were on the matter, that boy was his and he would never let him be taken again. Not by Ronal kicking him out of the clan, not by the RDA, not by Quaritch trying to keep him as his own son when he was Jake's!

Jake does not react to the newcomer that stands behind him now. Jake's own eyes flash angrily as he lifts his head to look straight up at Ronal. 

To his shock at the very last second he realises he's misread the situation. The look on Ronal's face is not that of one disgusted with a skyperson. It's that look only mothers get. Oh, Eywa protect him.

"Then why has your mate cut into him?"

Jake's head snaps back in horror.

Chapter Text

Jake is grasped by the back of his neck before he knows what is going on.

"What is this Jake Suli? What does she speak of?" Tonowari, sweet and welcoming; now simply sounds concerned. His eyes wide as can be in surprise. Jake simply looks at him, a pained and disgusted look on his own face- only this was disgust at himself not at the people he was with. 

"Brother I-" Jake starts to speak to Tonowari, but simply can not find the words to explain. He allows Tonowari to help him on his feet, but the hand at the back of his neck does not disappear. It's a restricting hold, but not one meant to be painful or demanding. Either way Jake knows he's messed up.

"Tonowari:" Ronal speaks to her mate, appreciative of her mate's quick action to grab Jake. She herself was not entirely certain the man would not try to flee. She'd wished to tell her mate separately, knowing Jake had become very trusted in his eyes. She'd seen their respect for one another as leaders and warriors turn to trust and appreciation in a more personal way. They were friends, brothers at arms and in life. Companion souls in a sense as two fathers who wished for no war, but knew it was coming no matter what they did. Their minds were similar, and so were their hearts. 

Though Ronal has always felt Tonowari was too quick to trust and accept, now with Jake it would finally cause him pain. Her mate would be very sad indeed learning about Jake's... Inactions. This was not something she wanted for her most beloved one. She loved his gentle disposition, his need to do good things in this world and help all who might need him. She adored his sweetness and his eternal calm. She knew herself to be far more rash and ferocious; independent and strong. With Tonowari she did not need to be so if she did not wish to.

Now he would hurt.

"The boy Spirr is unwell," Ronal speaks; her hand switching her grip on the knife in her hand. She has no intention of attacking, but holding it stills her beating heart. To cut a child is a terror! A cruelty!

"Spirr?" Tonowari repeats as confused about the name as Jake had been moments before. "Who do you speak of my beloved?" 

"Spirr. Spirr!" Ronal repeats with frustration in her heart. She was not stupid enough to think she said the skypeople name correctly, but not being understood when she was already in distress only fueled the flames of her anger. The uncertainty around the edges of her mind that whispered Jake's pain was genuine rose its head as well. The man looked positively distraught. "Spirr! The skyperson child!" She speaks with venom now, glaring daggers at her own mate who had done nothing to deserve them. She hisses in annoyance as they finally understand her. She does not speak English, she does not say the boy's name right. Insecurity is a new feeling for her, one that she doesn't understand as it rears its ugly head. 

"Spiders health is worse than thought?" Tonowari concludes, looking at Jake, his face growing a little sterner now. Why would Jake not have said last night if this were true? Why had he not rushed his son to the healing tent? 

"Srane, ma yawnety:" /yes, my beloved/ Ronal speaks, allowing her anger to be replaced on her face with a look of near sorrow. She may not love the boy, nor fully understand him, but he was still just a child. And children were gifts from Eywa. All of them. Even those with the ability to be demons. "He has been harmed. Not healed. Bleeding and aching all this time. Since the battle." The final words are more a gasp than anything else, so quiet she doubts Jake had heard her, though her mate clearly did. Tonowari's ears quickly pin to his head. She hears his tail snap in the air, slapping something behind him and toppling it over so it rolls down the woven path and splashes into the sea. 

Jake's head slumps from where he'd held it up, so defeated looking it's hard to see the once proud Toruk Makto from under his grief. /toruk rider/ Ronal watches the man with clear eyes, wide now to take in all details. He grieves. He hurts. But is this something that can be excused in the face of his lack of action?

Tonowari lets go of Jake and leaves him behind as he takes the few steps it takes to approach his own mate. He takes Ronal by the hand and leans down to look at her close; so alike to when he'd begged her only with his eyes to allow the Sully's to stay. Now however words need to be said: "You say he has been cut?" 

"By Neytiri!" Ronal speaks, her voice nearly cracking with the sudden loudness of it, she turns her head and spits over her shoulder to ward off evil spirits and remove the foul words from her mouth. Her knifeless hand shakes a little with her coursing feelings as she brings it to Tonowari's chest. "Here to here:" Her fingers press to where Tonowari's shoulder meets his chest muscle, and then she drags her fingers across his chest, in a slight incline to just above his nipple. Showing in a clean streamlined way where the boy's wound festers. A large cut, especially for a child. 

Tonowari looks over his shoulder at Jake and watches as the man heavily falls back to his knees. The Olo'eyktan understands. Jake has failed as a father. The feeling Tonowari had felt earlier that day; the guilt of his own neglect of the boy's needs rushes back in like a tidal wave, stronger and more violent this time. Suddenly he mourns. What exactly for even he himself can not fully tell. He is sad for the child. He feels an all-encompassing loss of trust toward his good friend; someone he'd thought was a brother. And an undeniable change in the way he views himself, having not seen such a thing for so long.

A child's injury and pain has been prolonged due to his own blindness. He'd thought the boy did not look fully well in the past, but somehow with his disposition, strong stance, and respectful words the boy had just flushed those thoughts away. Every time Tonowari had spoken to him he'd thought to ask after the boy's wellbeing properly, but every time he'd left thinking the boy was to an extent well, though perhaps shaken from the battle still. He had a family to aid him with that, so he'd felt he would have overstepped if he'd pressed on the subject. 

He should have. He'd thought his guilt was due to his idiocy in leaving the boy untrained in the water. But this seemed a deeper issue. He should have wrangled that boy to Ronal and had her look at him. What he'd missed all this time, even when attempting to keep an eye on the boy; she'd seen immediately. His mate was a marvel. And he was facing one of his biggest mistakes as a leader now.

"Where is he?" Jake asks with a broken voice, shaking Tonowari out of his thoughts and causing Ronal to lash out and hiss his way. Tonowari could see on his mate's face that she did not want to tell the man. He himself was certain the boy was only a few steps away in their home. 

"Jake Suli:" For a while now Tonowari had only spoken of Jake as brother. It pained him to strip that title off of his friend. But now... Unsure of what had happened with the small child he did not feel he could utter that word. A part of him did not wish to doubt Jake. Not cast that shadow on their bond, but another said that if his instincts were wrong he'd regret keeping Jake dear to his heart. Not all can be forgiven; even to a brother. "How has this come to pass? The boy has an injury far worse than the burn of the sun you spoke of. His pinkness seems a minor thing in comparison to what my mate describes." 

Ronal signs at Tonowari insistently, grasping him by the bicep as he attempts to approach Jake. 

"I-" Jake feels a tightness at his throat, preventing him from speaking. 

"Go inside to tend to the boy ma yawnety, Ronal:" /my beloved, Ronal/ Tonowari gently holds onto his dearest by her hand as she determines whether to listen to him. He holds his grasp on her light but affirming as she slips into the Marui, casting one last look at Jake as she goes. He signs after her that he will find out what is true in Jake's heart; then listens to her mutter inside the home, and settle down to sit. "Jake-" 

"I had forgotten." Jake gasps as he lets out lungfuls of air with the words: "I had pushed the whole memory away. What Neytiri did to him. I swear it is not as it seems Tonowari, my brother." But it was. 

Tonowari looks to the sea, calms his mind, and forgets what he knows for now, allowing his thoughts to dissipate so he can observe Jake's words from a more neutral perspective. He crouches down next to Jake and places a hand on the man's arm: "Neytiri hurt the boy. Yes?" Jake nods. "Was the attempt to kill?" Tonowari aches at Jake's silence. Hurts at the fact that the man needs the time to think of his answer. It should be a resounding no. How could it be otherwise?

"I don't know. No? Yes..." Jake mumbles through the last two words, unsure himself, his voice a mere quiver from what it usually was.

Tonowari sees tiredness seep from the man, this was not turning into a good day for him. "Spider is my son, Tonowari. You must understand this. I have claimed him and he belongs with me and mine. But it was not always like this. He belonged to my children first. When I turned away they turned to him." Jake's head lifts. He stares towards the sea. Tonowari can't tell if Jake can even see anything or if he is too swept away in memory to notice the lapping of the sea, or the wind that was slowly picking up.

Finding out Spider was not Jake's from birth was news to Tonowari. He'd understood the boy was stolen by the enemy before the Sullys came here and had been a member of the family before. He'd believed the family had thought him dead, not just taken and that was why they hadn't spoken of the boy; too sad to do so.

"I see..." He doesn't know what else to say.

"Last night I tended to him. After I yelled at him. By Eywa I was so angry, so worried!:" Jake's voice is a pained cry. "So unbelievably relieved to find him alive. My children have never hidden injuries from me, so I didn't check his body. I should have. I just didn't think to. The memory of the wound didn't even exist within me..." Jake's hand curls into a fist and he presses it to his lips tightly, knuckles showing the purple below. Another hand grasps the path below him, his whole body slumping to press his weight on it. Jake looks miserable. 

"I used this ointment Neytiri makes for little scrapes. Tried to heal the little injuries he had. The ones I could see. He's missing hair too in one spot so I took care of that. I made him eat. I thought he'd be fine through the night and then today I'd take him to the Tsahìk and get him some proper treatment." He sighs, but it's more just him expelling air quickly than a true sigh. "I thought I had everything handled now. Felt like I'd made a mistake by not looking after him enough after the battle. As if I could simply rectify it by setting limits, forcing him to accept some aid, and then I'd just watch him to make sure he wouldn't disappear again or get hurt more."

"So you acted as a father would. Only you overlooked something, and now there is a price to pay." Tonowari feels tired himself. The conversation is heavy. A noticeable weight to it. They both know that under normal circumstances this would have just been an error in judgment; a father not noticing a kid's bruised knee or forgetting to make a meal for his family. Only Spider's ailment was much worse than either of those things. And he was the only one paying the price for it. 

"Spider is the one paying it:" Jake mumbles, speaking out Tonowari's thoughts nearly to the letter. Tonowari humms to this. "I love that boy beyond belief. Just as equally as I do Lo'ak and... And..." Neteyam "Well I always thought that I knew him. That I understood him; his wants and needs, his priorities and motives." There is still silence, not even a gust of wind interrupts it: "I don't think I know him at all, Tonowari." The admission comes out such a dry rough sound it doesn't fit the rest of the sentence. There is sturdiness in it. Jake returns to himself with the knowledge it brings. Perhaps it is something he'd not truly grasped before this moment.

Jake shakes his head: "I want to tell you about what happened during the battle. I will take responsibility for it. For all of it."

"If it is Neytiri who-" Tonowari begins to speak, only for Jake to place a hand on the side of his chest to silence him.

"I will take responsibility." 

Tonowari nods agreeing to the choice when he sees the man looks indubitable. He doesn't understand the choice, but he has a feeling that when it comes to Neytiri and Spider none of this started from her actions at the battle. There was a past between the two. One that Tonowari hoped to hear from Spider himself one day.

Jake's voice breaks before he can even start the next sentence: "The man in battle. The leader; Quaritch. He is Spider's birth father. The one who made him. He recognized him in the forest and took him when he saw the chance. Nearly 8 months he had my son." A resounding anger enters Jake's voice, fingers curling into fists, then grasping his knees to flex them. "Then he took Kiri during the battle. Had her with a knife to her throat, planning to kill her." His voice returns to a mere whisper: "So Neytiri took Spider and mimicked him, holding Spider as a ransom for our daughter." 

Tonowari's world stops for a moment. Briefly, he thinks he could never hold a child at death's edge to release another. But looking at the sea and thinking of his son and daughter he isn't so sure anymore. Perhaps for them, he would? It is too terrible to think of. He feels almost ill at his musings, unsure if he could be such a heinous beast. The thought of his children with knives to their necks and inches from death quakes his world. He could never kill a child... Could he?

"She threatened his child for the sake of her own?" Tonowari concludes the story, nodding quickly, before wondering if it came off as him agreeing with the decision. 

"Oeyä 'eveng!" /my child/ Jake says utterly convinced by his own words: "Spider is not the son of that... That monster. Quaritch is nothing but an unfeeling demon and deserves a worse fate than the one he got." Ire rises in his eyes.

Jake has more hatred in his heart than Tonowari had known. He is learning much of the man; things that felt now as if they'd been purposefully omitted, but perhaps as the man said he had forgotten. Tonowari knew that sometimes Na'vi could forget the most horrifying moments in life, to stay strong and be capable of moving on. Was his mind preventing him from thinking through the events of the battle? "But the boy lives, and your eldest daughter hasn't a scratch on her. Or if she did they were all quickly taken care of. Your son however has a much more grievous wound and has been left untreated, this is a great injustice toward him. Tell me how the events ended."

Jake stays silent. Tears prickle in his eyes. "She... Made a warning cut. The one he has now on his chest. A son for a son she said." Tonowari's heart skips a beat when he recognizes those words, he'd heard Jake utter them last night, just as he was leaving to go back to sleep after letting him know Spider had been found. Jake had taken the words for himself and held them in his heart. Though Tonowari thought the man must have created his own meaning for them, it still left an unsettling feeling in his gut.

"He let go." Tonowari guesses. There is stillness in both Jake and the air before the man mutedly nods. So the man; this Quaritch monster did love the boy. Saw him as a true son, one important and beloved enough to let go of his own vengeance for him. Suddenly Jake's posessiveness made more sense.

The man could most likely feel how close he'd been to losing his child to the developing bond of a father and son; he must feel terribly self-conscious about the fact that he isn't the birth father himself. With Kiri Tonowari had understood there were no contenders for parenthood; this was not the case for Spider. Jake had moved on to kill the man ending the battle at the demon's death. Had he done it purely to end the conflict, or was a part of it about securing the boy for himself? Did it matter either way? "So he loved him:" Tonowari sighs.

Jake growls, an uncommon sound from a Na'vi. Tonowari spares it no mind.

"Would Neytiri have killed him?" 

Jake's eyes close slowly, pain wracking his face as his head lowers once more. "I- I... I do not know for certain. We have not spoken of it but I don't think there is anything she would not do for our children." That while worded to be deliberately vague was still a resounding yes. She would have gone through with it. Tonowari hears a loud hiss from the Marui; his wife unabashedly listening in on the conversation. 

"Even killing one of her own children for the benefit of another?"

"She does not claim Spider. But Tonowari I promise she will soon. I am sure of it." He is not sure of it. 

So many wrongs had been committed. A mother had attempted to kill a child she did not see as hers to save one of her own. A family had left said child without healing, for a long time as they mourned the son they did lose; their firstborn. A child had been abandoned to his own feelings about a father that had technically died for him; as his other family hated the man far too much to speak of him. He'd been left drifting in the sea, not knowing the way of the water and this was something the Olo'eyktan could also blame himself for. His own inadequacy. The boy had burned day by day as well, with no one stepping in to aid him.

What could Tonowari make of this? A lot of it he could also blame himself for. Clearly, the boy had been largely unseen, perhaps due to the trauma of the Sully's loss but also due to his species. Tonowari had told the boy oel ngati kameie, but had he been wrong about Seeing the boy? /i see you/ Had he said so preemptively? Had he earned the right to say those words? Did anyone truly understand the boy? At least now Tonowari had the whole story. Every bit of wrongness that had been inflicted on the boy, was largely due to their own blindness. 

But what should he do now? How does he fix this? How does he help the boy? He is Olo'ektan; should he punish the Sullys somehow? How much of the wrongdoing here was purposeful and how much was from pure grief and its nulling effect? Was it like kicking a man who was already down to fully place blame upon the family for this?

For the first time in ages, Tonowari is lost.

Chapter Text

Jake almost vomits into his own mouth when he sees Spider lying in the Marui. The bile still burns the back of his throat.

He understands Ronal's fury on a much deeper level than he had just moments before. His own self-hatred flares up worse than it ever did even back when he was still in his paralyzed body. The boy is skinnier than he'd realized; stretched out on the floor like that. His undereyes were dark from lack of rest, his hair as much a mess as he remembered. The sunburn seemed to have gotten worse overnight, or maybe the darkness last night had just made it not seem as bad. His fingers looked frail, and dirty, cuts going up nearly to his elbows. 

They were new. Something had happened to cause these little cuts between last night and now.

Every ailment and hurt on the boy seemed emphasized. Worse than they actually were, due to his guilty consciousness wanting to kick him even further down the hole Jake felt like he was falling into. 

Worst however was Neytiri's cut. He'd seen the necklace the boy had worn and thought it was a part of his new life as a Metkayina. Not a single thought had risen that it'd been there to cover this. By Eywa he'd pushed the memory of Spider's injury somewhere so deep down he'd not thought of it once after the battle. Maybe briefly on the way back to Awa'atlu, he'd remembered he ought to clean it, but his neverending devastation pushed out even that momentary clarity. 

The cut was healing terribly. It was longer than he'd realized, deeper too. It almost looked like someone had dug their fingers in and scratched it even more open. Three cuts clearly from nails went up from the gash toward the boy's throat, though they were already scabbed. Who the hell had dared to hurt his beloved Spider where he was already injured? Only a few scabs were on the edges of the wound, the middle of it open and glaring. Dark red in places, and glistening pink in others. Infection was setting in based on the darkness around the wound, and the festering goo that was in one of the ends of the scar. Jake wanted to gag. One area of the laceration had a tear of flesh, curling over the side, turning purple. The whole thing looked painful, and like it would need a long treatment when it would have been simple to treat in the beginning. An injury that hadn't been that bad in the beginning had turned into something nightmarish. 

A small voice in Jake's head whispered about why the boy hadn't asked for help, and another called Jake the most horrible words for not being a trusted adult Spider could have come to. How could he have not seen this? How is this humanely possible? 

Jake fell to his knees by the boy, Ronal on the opposite side of him. As Jake's legs hit the ground he tipped over a wooden bowl that threw a liquid on his legs. Ronal hissed at the mess, or maybe at his daring approach to the boy. He didn't deserve the comfort of being near him now. Especially with the boy calmly sleeping. 

Jake covered his mouth with both his palms as he felt Tonowari's heavy hand land on his shoulder. 

"What is he covered in?" He gasped out, looking at the liquid sheen that shielded most of Spider's skin. It wasn't spread over the wound so he knew it wasn't treatment for it. 

Ronal was silent for a long time. Finally, she spoke: "The remedy for his burned skin. It is how I found this wound. He was hiding it. Did not want me to see, and tried to stop me from tending to it."

Jake reached to take Spider's hand, but Ronal swatted it away, the resounding slap crisp in the Marui. 

"Ronal..." Tonowari spoke up, but the answering hiss from his mate shut him up.

Jake did not mind the burning of the slap to his wrist. It felt righteous. He deserved far worse. 

"Oh, my baby boy. My smallest son." Jake's form quivered quickly before the first sob wracked his body, and his spine curled just as Spider's had, his forehead coming to rest on Spide's hip. Then he simply cried. He'd always been a quiet crier, tears silent as they poured; but for Neteyam his oldest, he'd wailed. For Spider, for the boy's endured neglect and pain, he did so too. It was as if he could not hold it back any longer, floodgates open and body unable to stop the rush of emotion. His head began to ache near immediately; a human trait that had carried over to his Na'vi body. Spider seemed like a six-year-old in both size and appearance now. Looking so small and fragile, just as he had when he'd been a little menace running through the woods for the first time. 

Jake had asked him to be a tough kid. To wait for acceptance, to just make do on his own a little longer. Had punished him simply for staying afar as he'd wanted him to. Sure the boy had gone to the dangerous sea currents and set everyone on a wild goose chase, but hadn't it been Jake's fault in the first place for not keeping tabs on where the boy was? He wanted Spider to stay away so Neytiri could heal. Play with their children, but never approach their home. Show no sign of himself to Jake's mate so that she can rest. Jake had even been insulted that Spider had not come to him for aid and opened up to his children instead. But with Jake constantly in the Marui with Neytiri, how could Spider have come to ask for help? When would he have had the chance to request medical attention or open up about his own loss when Jake was never available; cowering and hiding in the one place the boy knew he wasn't welcome in? 

By Eywa he'd been impossible to approach.

"Oeyä kxeyey, oeyä kxeyey. Oooh nìwotx oyeä kxeyey!" /my fault, my fault. oooh, all my fault!/ Jake wailed quietly, moaning about his own blame and pain. Shaking like a leaf in the wind. He couldn't even hear it when Tonowari lowered himself to the ground next to him and began to pet his back.

"Tonowari poan tìkin tsonta ftang:" /Tonowari, he needs to stop/ Ronal's voice was still harsh, but not as full of hatred as it had been previously. Tonowari started rubbing a circular pattern on Jake's back to try to aid him in stopping his panicked crying. It did not help. "Poan zene 'eyng aytìpawm:" /he must answer questions/ Ronal's words are a demand, and Tonowari gives her a look for her tone. 

"Poan lì lawk Spider. You heard as he did so outside, my beloved:" /he already talked about Spider/

Ronal felt the need to call her mate an idiot: "Oe tìkelu tìomum fyape tsonta zoslu 'evengan!" /i lack knowledge on how to heal boy!/ She huffs in exasperation on her mate's surprised face: "I do not heal skypeople. He will react badly to many ingredients. Could die, he said so himself. Jake Suli needs to tell me what I can use on the wound, how will he do so now when he is a shivering mess?"

Jake's spine grew rigid under Tonowari's palm. The sobbing stopped. The man was still a moment, before pushing himself upright, looking at the boy with pain in his eyes. They glistened a deeper green behind the welling of tears. He set to motion for his son: "Dapophet pods are fine." 

Ronal hisses: "They are not for wounds like this!" 

"Oh..." Jake swallowed thinking deeply: "What would work?" 

Ronal scoffs and rolls her eyes: "I do not heal skypeople wounds. Even I do not know. He needs something stronger that will fight infection but allow the wound to breathe. Something that will keep the wound from getting worse, but won't all be sucked into his skin. I notice it absorbs liquids." She takes mild pity on the confusion on Jake's face: "If he were Na'vi I would use venom of the txumre to fight the infection and the ar'lek seed for where the skin is dying to rejuvenate it. Nothing weaker will save him from immence scarring. Then I'd apply nectar of the healing rose to try and get the cut to close." /the slinth (a predatory animal that resembles a viperwolf)/

Ronal stares at the man, whose mouth now opens and closes like that of a skxawng payoang. /moron fish/ Exasperated she huffs out: "Well?"

Jake's eyes widen. He doesn't know what to say. He couldn't remember if any of that was safe for Spider. He'd never even heard of any type of venom being used for healing. All the information he seemed to have gathered through his life about what was safe for humans and what wasn't was gone. Had he forgotten? He hadn't needed the information in ages.

Ronal's eyes snap to his harshly. They narrow like that of a prowling predator: "You do not even know what will heal and what will kill your own child!"

Tonowari's hand withdraws from his back. The large man stands up and asks a simple question: "Who knows?" 

Jake lowers his head in shame: "Kiri. She knows everything about healing skypeople; for Spider."

Tonowari nods and leaves the Marui, a resounding splash of water signaling his departure. 

Jake is left alone with Ronal who has one hand on the boy's arm, and the other rubbing her swollen belly. "I did not think highly of you Jake Suli when you arrived at Awa'atlu." Her tone was that of an upset mother about to tell a child she is not angry, but simply disappointed. She was angry however so she did not relent in her verbal attack on Jake's person: "Now I think even less of you. It was your dedication to the safety of your children that turned my heart to allow your stay. I see your pain, I see you have awakened to the reality of your son's condition. To the reality of your own mistakes. But I do not know if you repent enough." 

Jake's head lowered. He felt just as he had when a school teacher told him off in front of the class when he'd stolen a ruler; only a hundred times worse. Professor Francis from 3rd grade had seen to it that he was publically humiliated for it. He never did steal again. 

Then Ronal said something that shook Jake to the core. Something he knew she would never admit if Tonowari was present: "Your mate did what she did in an act of desperation. I would have done the same for my children. Slit the throat of an enemy's spawn to gain the upper hand to ensure my children see another sunrise. But you. You knew she had not tended to his hurt after. Your crime can not be understood or explained as an unavoidable act in the face of the death of your child." Ronal's eyes were cold now; Jake shivered looking into them. "She did what she did to save Kiri. You were simply neglectful." 

"I know. Oh Eywa, I know." Jake leaned forward again, looking at Spider. The sound of his rebreather wooshing with air was a grounding thing. It reminded him that Spider was here and alive and breathing. Spider would see another sunrise just as Ronal had said. "I haven't got an excuse good enough for what has happened. No grand declaration to cover my own ass." Ronal's nose scrunched in distaste at the crude human expression. "The loss of my eldest has turned me into a weak recluse, hiding away in my home day and night, putting a brave face for my children. But now I am not sure if I truly have even been caring for them. If I missed this then what else have I not seen? The grief has made me a man I don't recognize." 

Silence. Dooming, wallowing, destructive silence. 

It had never seemed so dangerous before. 

"That is what will save you today Jake Suli:" Ronal retorts coldly. Her eyes set on the man like two blazing suns, wide and deadly, far more terrifying this way than when they were narrowed and focused. "Your oldest son died, and that is the sole reason you can keep this son tonight. If not for the death of the other, I would take Spirr away from you now, and cut your hair to your scalp to show your failure as a father." Jake shivers once more. He knows he would have fought her on it. "This is my right as Tsahìk, and not even my mate could have saved you from my vengeance." 

And just like that it was decided. Jake wondered when Ronal had made up her mind on whether or not he could keep Spider. The cold sweat from before returned at the acknowledgment that the woman had even considered it. Had deliberated taking Spider, stealing him from Jake forever.

Having a child be taken away from you by the Tsahìk was the greatest shame a Na'vi could face; only beaten by the punishment that a Na'vi would face if they killed their own child. Ronal almost declared Jake an unfit father, and that caused his heart to clench terribly. He'd lost one son to death, and nearly the rest to his own grief-caused neglect.

Eywa would not forgive him. But by Her grace did Jake wish she would. 

A stern expression settles on Jake's face. One of determination. He'd take Her damnation too; if it meant he'd get to keep his son. 

Chapter Text

Kiri arrives in such a rush she faceplants at the entrance to the Marui. Landing right on her left cheek with a splat that sends water flying from her hair. With a whine that turns to angry huffing her father's way, she gets up and picks her pace back up, coming to a kneel by Spider's head. She rubs the hurt away from her cheek, slapping away her father's hand when he attempts to soothe it too; inquiring if she needs something for it. 

"I am not a baby:" She slips into English, her voice stern and so like her mother that Jake can almost see Grace sitting in the place of his daughter. She never reminds him as much of Grace as when she is concerned about Spider. Maybe it's because she is just as pushy towards Spider as Grace had been to Jake's human body needs. Always reminding him to eat, ordering him to sleep and rest, and do his video diaries. 

Kiri's gaze sees the tear tracks on her father's face, taken aback by the heaviness of them, and decides not to have a go at him then. It is not often that her father cries. She then turns her eyes to Spider, and changes her mind, tilting her head at Jake to send a vile hiss his way. 

"Monkey-boy:" She mumbled, reaching a hand for the wound and then changing her mind, placing her palm on the side of his mask instead. As if she had laid her hand to cradle his cheek in comfort. Her view of him is upside down in a way, looking from above his head toward the rest of his body, but she can see all the damage just as well from here. This had not happened overnight. 

She'd not noticed the boy looking so unwell last night. It had been dark and she'd been far away. 

She stares and stares, partly in shock, before letting out a hollow sob. She manages to breathe in at the same time somehow and hiccups. All Tonowari had managed to say was something about Spider being at his Marui when Kiri had already dove into the sea and began moving as fast as she could. All morning her chest had felt tight, like she wasn't where she was meant to be; anxiety worsening in intervals. It had been Eywa warning her that Spider needed her, she was sure of it! She whines unintelligibly, shifting a little as she tries to choose how to approach the situation. 

"Is he asleep or passed out?" She asks, her eyes on her father, nearly jumping out of her own skin when the reply sounded from her other side. 

"He sleeps:" Ronal speaks up, finding the girl's gaze on her now. She does not mind Kiri here; had even considered offering Kiri the opportunity to learn healing from her. She had been told Kiri had shown promise while learning from Mo'at in the forest. Continuing her education in medicine would be an asset to the clan. She'd make a fine pupil, just like Tsireya. The girl's connection to Eywa was strong, and that could mean very potent healing.

Ronal even feels more settled with the girl here, aware that the girl knows the boy and will have his best interest at heart; perhaps more than she herself and Jake do. It is rare for Ronal to be looking after a patient she does not know in a personal way. She knows the wants and wishes of every villager here; their preferences in healing and aid. But for Spider she simply knows he is reluctant to be touched and healed. Maybe Kiri would be an incentive for him to allow Ronal a more free approach. 

"I did help him along the way." 

"You fed him something! What was it?" Kiri demands to know, narrowing her eyes at Ronal, set on not using any honorifics with the woman when she wasn't sure the Tsahìk hadn't done any damage.

"Syekalin dew mixed with water:" /sweet breath flower/ Ronal replied, picking up a cup with a little of the liquid still left in it and handing it to Kiri. It had not been easy to get the boy to accept it, but after promising him he could leave after drinking a little he'd taken it and quickly succumbed to its tiring effects. 

"Syekalin can make children sick. How did you know it would not kill him?" Kiri looked at Spider, gently shaking him by the shoulders to see if it would wake the boy up or not. She was always nervous when the boy ate or drank anything new. Things on Pandora seemed set on killing humans, and safe things were rare when it came to food and medicinal plants.

Kiri brushes a dread off of the boy's mask.

Ronal hands something else to Kiri: "I used this to treat the injury of the sun on him. It had syekalin in it and he said it was safe for humans. Am I correct to assume Omatikayan healers have not discovered the fatiguing properties of the flower yet?"

Kiri grasps the bowl of medicine, places it near Spider's head, and then dips her fingers to it to reapply the sticky fluid on some of the worse-off parts on his shoulders. Kiri nods towards Ronal: "I at least did not know the syekalin could be used as a sleeping aid. I only know it for its deceptively lovely smell, and the way inhaling its spores makes many Omatikayan children ill whenever the flower is in season."

Kiri doesn't feel like she's all there. Her brain seems to steer her in many directions. Why was she focusing on a damn flower with an effect she did not know yet. She needed to be biting off her father's head and asking Ronal what the plan for the festering wound was. Still, she sat there, rubbing in more ointment on his sizzled skin, trying not to cry and keep herself calm. 

She just needed a minute. A moment to look at him and think. Thinking Spider was dead had been hell. Just as bad as when he was with the RDA if not worse, knowing he'd been right there and still she'd failed to protect him. Unknown to Kiri the type of guilt she felt about Spider was very common today in the Sully household. Her hands shook a little as she kept spreading the healing salve. It probably wasn't even helping since it had already been applied to the boy's skin, but she needed to feel useful while taking her deep breaths. She searched for her center through Eywa. 

Today she'd be strong for Spider.

By Eywa she hadn't spoken to the boy since the funeral. The cut certainly had not looked like that back then. She knew it even though she'd averted her eyes from it. Back then the boy had not covered it up and she'd wondered briefly how he had been healing it so far. Still, she'd offered no help. Greedingly taking in the comfort the boy provided, and then leaving him without attention or company as soon as the funeral was done. For days upon days, she'd not sought him out. After months of fear and worry for his wellbeing he was back. Finally, where he belonged, and as near and dear to her as always, but she'd still chosen to go swimming. To be alone to think and play with the fish. She hadn't even told Spider about the deeper connection to Eywa she had now. 

Monkey boy was supposed to be her best friend. So why had she defaulted to treating him like a stray? Had she done it before and simply not noticed?

During the time she'd searched for him in the water, it had felt like he was behind some sort of fog. She had been near certain he was in the ocean, but no matter how many fish she sent after him, none had led her to him nor told her where he was. Like something didn't want them to. Back then her most horrifying thought was that he was a corpse in the sea, dead and cold to the touch and Eywa was denying her a path to him to keep her from having to see him like that. The relief to see that had not been the case had been indescribable. The undeniable fury she'd felt after that had been worse. 

By Eywa how she'd screamed crude things at her monkey boy. He didn't deserve any of it even if his disappearance had scared her. He could have been lost for a week at that point and she would not have noticed. The blame was on her. Or so she felt. 

She'd thanked Eywa for hours after that. Lying in her bed, her fingers pressed together, eyes on the ceiling of the Marui, the biggest grin on her face. Monkey boy was fine. He was there to be hers again. This time she would not overlook him. What a terrible crime it felt now. Her unjust anger at him. Her constant ignoring of his presence. The fact that she had not asked him to talk or play. Hadn't offered comfort or shown him the village. Did no introductions. Now Spider had probably done everything without her. Had started his life at Awa'atlu without her help. Just like she'd done it without him while feeling so lost and alone. 

She'd simply handed her troubles over to him it seemed. 

In the ocean she didn't have to think of anything- she'd not realized that included the boy. 

Now all she wanted was for him to sit up and start talking. To tell her everything and then for her to repay the favor. She wanted all his secrets again, his sweet smile and whimsical laughter. That glint he got in his eye when he was about to tell a really good joke. She wanted to know what he thought of her controlling fish. And how he'd be upset by her seizure at the spirit tree. Wanted his comfort over the fact that it kept her from connecting to Eywa and watching memories of Neteyam. 

She missed her older brother now that he was dead. She'd fallen into a deep pit of loneliness that she hadn't found a way out of. Only the pit blinded her to the fact that Neteyam wasn't the only brother she was missing- it was Spider and Lo'ak too. 

"How can I help?" Kiri finally asked, hands abruptly stopping.

And so Ronal began to speak. The next while Kiri and Ronal went through possible ingredients, thinking of what they'd need for the injury, how to best prepare the ointment, and what the consistency needed to be like. Jake sat quietly, finally having the courage to take his son's hand in his own, rubbing his thump against the top of the boy's hand. He was of no help to the two women bustling in the room, but maybe if Spider was lucid enough, he could be of comfort to him. 

Kiri and Ronal went through countless ingredients. Their potency and method of applying. Kiri would list off side effects from different things or outright say no to using some. When it came to certain fauna they could cause Spider some distress, but still be worth using because their effectiveness could not be rivaled. She drew the line at the boy having any reactions worse than itchy skin or gut irritation. 

He deserved to heal without discomfort.

Ronal quickly found that some fauna could be fine to skypeople when applied to the skin, but deadly when indigested. This meant her trick with getting the boy to drink syekalin had been more of a shot in the dark than she'd anticipated. Safe for the skin did not guarantee safe to eat. What a strange concept. Some ingredients when applied together could cause something Kiri called 'a chemical reaction' that resulted in the ingredients becoming poisonous to Spider, even if on their own they were entirely fine. Ronal greedily took in the information in a medical sense, noting what she could use on skypeople for future healing if necessary. Another part of her veered off to the side from healing and tried to remember everything that could be used to kill this demonic species. 

There was much to remember, and Ronal practically preened at the chance to learn and adapt to healing something new. 

Ronal and Kiri made a decent team. Kiri was a bit on her toes, trying not to have an emotional outburst, and kept being distracted by her eyes drawing back to the boy and simply being unable to look away. As if she was expecting him to vanish as soon as she turned her head. Ronal had to keep guiding her back to the task at hand, leading the girl as a teacher should. 

Healing was not easy, especially when working with skypeople; these strange aliens that seemed far more fragile than Na'vi bodies. 

"Maybe he should drink healing rose nectar tea each morning, and then that way we can leave out the nectar from the healing balm so that it does not react poorly with the freshwater lily stem powder:" Ronal spoke, thoughtfulness evident in her voice. "I do not wish for him to be as nauseous from the two being mixed as you say he will be. And besides this way we could replace the nectar with dapophet without having to use too much of its juice since then it will be heightened by the rose nectar from the tea."

Ronal gets no reply.

"Kiri?" The woman speaks again, turning to look over her shoulder to where the girl was. 

Kiri had begun to cry, leaning into her father's side now. She'd kept hissing at him and pushing him away the whole time she'd been in the Marui. She'd been just as upset with her father as she was with herself. He'd not seen Spider's ailments nor had she. It seemed the girl needed comfort enough to seek his company now. Jake's hands were around his daughter, petting down her hair and shushing her below his breath, eyes still on his son, even when his body held up his slumped-over daughter.

Ronal watched the two, for a moment; a picture of a sad family that worried and grieved their own losses and worries. It almost made Ronal regret having Kiri be here. Seeing Spider like that must be upsetting.

She turned her back, returning to preparing ingredients; the ones that Kiri had confirmed safe and they agreed should be added. The rest of the ingredients discussion could wait a few minutes so that the father and daughter could finish their moment. Maybe Kiri would be more clear-headed once she cried a little. 

Chapter Text

Tonowari returned to the sight of Kiri gently applying a purple paste to Spider's wound, delicately, gently with an aura of love. The little girl was weeping with her teeth bared as she administered the healing remedy; the same look on her face that Neytiri had worn at her son's funeral.

Ronal was upholding the spiritual part of the healing, Moving her hands on the boy, chanting on occasion, and making sounds for Eywa's grace to awaken the boy. She blew out the bad energy from the boy, her hands cupped outwards from her face as she did so. Tonowari had never truly understood healing not the physical or spiritual side of it, but he knew his mate was attuned to both in a beautiful, mesmerizing way. He signaled for Jake to come to him; the man still sitting exactly where he'd been previously and took him outside the Marui to speak softly. 

His mate had decided to spare the man from the shame of having a child taken away; this he knew from Jake still having all of his hair. He'd known Ronal would have already cut it all off of the man with rage had she decided so.

It was a surprise really to Kiri to find the remedy for Spider burning her own fingers. This stinging, prickling sensation took over all the way to her palms as she rubbed the ointment onto the boy's wound. She'd never had a reaction like that to anything, but even if it had caused hives all over she would not have stopped administering it. Her own discomfort did not matter if it meant Spider would wake up in a minute without being in pain.

The first few steps were now taken toward his recovery. 

Kiri laid down the bowl once it was empty, listening to Ronal's huffs and puffs as she cleared out the sleepiness from Spider's spirit.

The way that Ronal did spiritual healing looked very different from how Mo'at did it. But Kiri supposed all Tsahìk's had their own language to healing. Different sounds, movements, and hand placements that felt right to them on a personal level. A tsahìk's job was to connect to Eywa while healing, so they would move as they needed to, in order to feel near to the Great Mother. 

Kiri's hands found themselves pressed to Spider's mask. She didn't know why. He'd see nothing if he did wake up now, and she was obscuring herself from seeing his face, but for some reason, it simply felt right. 

"He will wake up soon:" Ronal said when she saw a twitch of the boy's fingers. Kiri looked the woman deep in the eyes; she saw no deceit in them.

"Irayo, Tsahìk Ronal:" /thank you clan leader Ronal/ She mumbled, having always struggled with authoritarian figures. But Ronal had earned her gratefulness.

Kiri looked down at her friend again. She could recover memories from times he'd been injured in the past. Rare instances where the boy had run into a tree or been pushed a little too hard and let out a pained sound from it. Spider getting hurt the first few times had caused Jake to give the Sully kids speeches about how they needed to be more gentle with Spider's brittle bones. They could snap them like twigs her father had said, scaring the kids a little more about Spider's weaknesses each time. Things would always be awkward for a while after. They'd be overly careful with Spider and pull away a little, asking him to play less or not seeking him out at all. Spider would always manage to restore them to their carefree natures and eventually, maybe with age Spider stopped getting hurt. Lo'ak had told Kiri his bones had grown stronger and skin bruises no longer hurt the boy at all. He could press on them and Spider wouldn't make a sound. 

It had been so cool as a child. Like Spider had gotten a mini superpower that didn't exactly make him as durable as they were, but still tougher than the average human. 

Kiri suddenly thought about Neytiri. Her mother had always held a grudge and hatred at the boy for the stupidest thing on this planet. His parentage. Spider now bore the burn of Kiri getting to live; the scar was an eternal reminder of how close she'd been to death, and how he'd paid the price for her release.

At the hands of her mother. 

Anger rose again like a wild beast in the back of her mind. She could remember begging for Spider's life, asking her mother to not kill him; so certain Neytiri would. She could almost feel the strong hands of Spider's father on her, holding her back, knife to her neck ready to slice her out of existence. Still, she'd felt no ire about it towards Spider. He was not responsible for his father's actions. How could her mother not see that?

Now the cut her mother had made as a warning would never fade. Perhaps it would have left a thin white scar before had he been healed quickly. Now the scar would be as thick as two fingers. 

Ronal watched the girl go through the motions. Saw so many emotions on the face of young Kiri. If anyone was an open book it was her. Usually, she had a look of disinterest on her face, a moody scowl that covered up sadness; Ronal had observed this and found it to be a way to cope. Now she was openly sad, weeping, and teary.

And so angry. Her anger manifested itself in strange ways, making her touches on Spider softer than a feather, even as she thought of undescribable things she wished to say to her own mother. Ronal doubted the girl was capable of violence. Her anger was rather beautiful, curling on the face of the girl, causing her to lean in to physically block parts of the boy from possible onlookers- not that there were any. Ronal's anger made her deadly and precise. Kiri's made her protective. 

It was a good trait for a woman. Were the girl to learn to fight she would make a good warrior, but her heart would never be in it. This Ronal knew. Kiri was like a Tulkun. Able to feel rage and injustice, pain and suffering; but incapable of transferring that pain to another with violence or revenge. 

Neytiri would get the fight of her life from the girl. Screaming and shouting, upset accusations thrown and violent hissing to shut her up if she were to try and make a case for herself. But it would not go further than that. 

"Do you know how he got it?" Kiri asked, her voice as silent as a singular raindrop hitting the sea. 

"Srane. Neytiri mun'i peyä ta'leng tsonta zong nga:" /yes. Neytiri cut his skin to save you/ Ronal answered with the truth. It would make no sense to deny it from the girl. To not acknowledge it. 

Kiri let out a hiss at her anyway before the anger from her face melted away with a small sob: "She did. She should not have." 

Ronal brought her hand to lay on Kiri's shoulder in comfort. There wasn't much to be said.

"Did Jake tell you?" Kiri's voice was harsh with the name of her father, too upset to call him dad at the moment. 

Ronal shook her head, the seashell on her forehead swayed with the motion: "Spirr did. Just as I tricked him to sleep I asked, and he replied." Ronal and Kiri sat in the quiet admission for a moment. Ronal was surprised she did not have to face Kiri's wrath for forcing the boy to sleep. Maybe Kiri agreed that he would not have let her do anything to help him otherwise. And the boy did need healing. A few more days and the infection could have set in too deep to heal. Now the boy could fully heal much faster and easier. Ronal had not been entirely sure of it at first, but what Kiri had told her of skypeople had reassured her that the boy would not die from this. Death in his chest, but caught in time. 

Kiri could almost hear the thinning voice of Spider replying with her mother's name as sleep took him. 

"Am I correct to assume he would not have told me had he not been so fatigued?"

Kiri nodded: "He would never have admitted to it. He probably doesn't even see blame in my mother for it. Isn't angry. What she did saved my life, and that is the most important thing to him no matter his own fate." Her voice was cold and cutting.

"This makes you angry?" 

"Furious."

Jake and Tonowari return to the Marui. What they had quietly spoken of was left only for the wind and Eywa to know.

Kiri does not hiss at her father when he sits down next to her, but pushes away his comforting hands, placing them on Spider instead. She feels a quiet calm finally reaching her. Maybe it was Eywa settling her mind and emotion, or herself managing to process through the things she now knew and had seen. Whatever the cause it did not matter. Having her father try to make her feel better when she was finally in a neutral state would only upend her balance. 

And she wanted to be calm and feel alive when Spider woke up.

The look on her father's face is so deeply ridden with guilt she thinks he feels worse about this than she does. That is the sole reason she doesn't begin screaming at him now. Fuck peace if there is no redemption. 

Jake had gotten his punishment from Ronal and Tonowari. Neytiri would get hers from Kiri. 

Jake begins to ask Ronal how the wound needs to be treated and how often the ointment needs to be applied. Ronal knows she will not allow him to do any of it but tells him anyway up to the point that he asks how the balm had been made. At that, she snaps her mouth shut, glares at him, and lets him know she would be the one looking after his ailment. "You can not be trusted with this:" She'd spoken with a seething voice, and just like that her tirade of admonishments on the man continued. "You did not teach him to swim well, you did not warn him of the ocean current. You let the sun burn his skin. You did not heal his cut!" 

Kiri turns to look at her father. Thinking for the first time now about how long the training in the water had been for her and her siblings. Had no one picked it up with Spider? Was Jake told to? Had everyone simply forgotten? She opens her mind to yell only for the words to catch in her throat: she did not remember either. 

"Till the boy is well you are not to be left with his full care. I will see to his hurt in the healing Marui until I deem him well. It is in my rights as Tsahìk to do so-" Kiri's mind drifts and stops listening to Ronal's loud voice. The accusations continue in the background but Kiri hears none of it. 

Jake does. Every loud sentence gives him whiplash that burns on his skin: "Until then he is your son in name only!" Except Spider did not even carry Jake's name, that thought is strangled out quickly. Tonowari lays calming hands on his mate as she leans back again to finish her words with a death blow: "I will choose when he is well enough to be truly yours again. And if I find this repeating I will take him and I will keep him forever. Tonowari and I would not mind another son."

Jake's jaw moves to hiss, but he does not allow the sound to come out. "Oe tslam:" /i understand/ He says instead, head bowed as a sign of respect, though his body wants to deny Ronal's right to take Spider.

Tonowari sits and looks at his mate. He is surprised by her in a way he had not been in many years. She would have been willing to keep the boy to themselves? A child of skypeople origin? Earlier today she'd looked forward to a challenge in her craft of healing, even if she was bitter and upset she needed to heal a skyperson. Now she was making possible claims at the boy, ready to take hold of him as her own offspring. Was the sight of a child unwell and unseen simply the reason that she was now willing to have him be her own son? Or had the boy proven himself in some way before being put to sleep...

Tonowari moves one hand to his mate's belly, knowing the reminder of her pregnancy could calm her like nothing else.

Stress was bad for the baby. So was anger. And Ronal had been feeling both a little too much lately; especially since it had been so long since she'd last been with child. 

Tonowari sees the absolution in Ronal's eyes. The set of her brow, the tightness of her pupils. How her shoulders are leaned forward and her fingers grasped air for naught. She was as serious and sure as he was that the sun would set again tonight. Keeping the boy would not have been something they discussed first; it didn't need to be. Not when Ronal had made up her mind already and he knew it would have been a fight he'd lose. Could still be a fight he'd lose if Jake was to commit such crimes again; though Tonowari doubted it.

Looking from her to the boy Tonowari's shock wore off. He did look small and helpless there in the middle of the two families. But Tonowari rather liked him. Enjoyed the way he spoke, and how determined the boy was to prove himself and to be of use. Uselessness was a grand shame to the Metkayina, and while he was weaker, slower, and smaller the boy had never allowed himself to be a burden or an unnecessary addition to the clan.

He wanted to claim the clan as his own. Tonowari could see it from the way he greeted him, from the respect he showed the elders, and how glad he was to feed their people. Yes. The boy would be good for the clan. Most likely contributing more than the Sully children. Tuktirey was too young to do anything but weave nets with the other children. That was righteous. Children as small as her should only learn a few skills they could have fun with, and play the rest of their days away. However, the other Sully boy was always with Payakan now that Tsireya was busy, and Kiri spent hour after hour in the water, doing whatever his wife had briefly spoken of. Honing her gift, as Ronal had put it. 

Meanwhile, Tonowari had many-a-times seen Spider fishing, knew he made great nets, and provided for their clan with whatever he could. He didn't doubt the boy spent the other parts of his day playing with Kiri in the water and learning from Lo'ak and Payakan. 

The boy had hardiness and determination. Yes, Tonowari could accept him as a son. Would welcome him into his home with open arms, embracing him to the family and ensuring his children would protect the boy just as he himself would. Could watch his mate sing him songs to put him to sleep, and hand him bowls of food as he babbled on about his day. Would delight in showing him off to others, for the many skills he would surely amass from being taught by Tonowari. Would celebrate his existence at every chance he could, and feel pride as he grew into a man. Another child would be lovely.

Spider would surely make a good older brother for the baby, capable of being more careful with the baby than any other with his small arms. Would he help around the Marui? Would he go fishing with Aonung, and trade stories of their lives before the boy came here? Would Tsireya take care of his hair as she did Aonungs? Or would Ronal claim the right to do so? 

Maybe the boy would find his own spirit brother from the Tulkun, and Tonowari could see the joy on the boy's face as he began that life-long friendship. While his other children would miss out on the childhood of Spider and ache for the loss, this new baby would have him from birth. He'd surely be a strong presence. He'd be a real Metkayina, a strong warrior, a great son. Tonowari would love the child to his dying day. Ronal surely would find a way to save his skin from the sun for good. He'd have a place to sleep next to Aonung Tonowari guessed. The two could be great friends if Aonung took the time to See him. 

Would Tsireya teach him sign language at night before they went to sleep? Would he catch another vivid fish later in life? Could Tonowari be there to commend him and shower him with praise for it? Oìeetxo would take on the role of a grandmother naturally, seeing as she was already somewhat fond of the boy. The integration of Spider to their family could be easy, and fast. 

If they wished to take the boy it should be done now. Why wait and let time run on? Tonowari wanted the boy to be settled in their home before the birth of the baby, so Spider wouldn't miss a moment of that new life. He deserved a sibling that would always be there, from birth.

Tonowari's eyes roamed to Jake's. His thoughts seized. Jake looked ready to attack, staring at Tonowari with a fury. Perhaps Ronal would not catch it, but Tonowari saw it clear as day from the man's eyes. There was stiffness in his muscles, a hand near his thigh, where a blade rested in a leather holster. His eyes thinned, calculating and slightly unsure still on how to proceed. But entirely ready should Tonowari make the wrong move. 

He could tell there was fondness on his own face. He'd looked at the boy openly- just as Jake's mind was easy to read for Tonowari his own thoughts were to Jake. Jake had seen the consideration. The turning of the thoughts from contemplation to a true desire to have the boy as a son of his. Had witnessed the thought process that went from being centered around his mate's willingness to actual plans for a future with the boy. The boy is visibly a sore subject to Jake, him having already killed another father prospect, securing his own claim of parenthood. Jake would absolutely, without a doubt fight Tonowari for him. 

Perhaps, were Jake to make a mistake again with the boy Tonowari would have the fight he'd briefly thought of moments earlier. Only not against Ronal about keeping the boy, but against Jake.

Tonowari saw now that his thoughts had spiraled.

He'd always wanted a large family. Just like her spirit sister Ro'a Ronal had waited many years to have this baby. Try and try as they might Eywa had not blessed them with a child till now. He was grateful for it, and it was not right to rush to greediness for another even if the chance to do so had been so close today. 

If Eywa wanted Spider to be theirs they would know, and then Tonowari would fight to follow the will of the Great Mother. Even against his brother.

That day was not today, however, nor might it ever come. Tonowari allowed his gaze to settle. 'Tsmukan, 'evan lu ngeyä' /brother, boy be yours/ Tonowari signed with his hands to Jake. He did not care that while Kiri did not see, his mate's gaze drifted to watch the extended words. 'Oe ke kämunge' /i no take/ the Metkayina sign language was beautiful and complicated, but when it came to grammar it was far rougher and even silly sounding. Words were not bent to fit one another.

Jake's skill in it was still something to be improved. His movements were always jerky and not smooth enough to fully understand. Now with his rigidness and agitation, it was even worse: 'Nga txakrrfpìl tsakem.' /you consider it/  

Tonowari nodded in agreement: 'srane, slä oe kea kämunge ngeyä 'itan.' /yes, but I no take your son/ 

Jake's hand wordlessly left the spot near his knife and landed on the boy's knee. He nodded his head, and they left it at that.

Chapter Text

Spider woke up feeling... Sticky. His fingers twitched and stuck together from the healing liquid. As he opened his eyes a little, he spotted blurry forms above him. One of them was loud and animated, long limbs waving in the air like big shadows. There was a ringing in Spider's ears and he cringed at it. He let out a groan as he closed his eyes tightly against the coldness he felt on his chest right where his wound was. It was nearly unbearable. 

The room grew hushed. 

Spider opened his eyes again; two massive yellow orbs right above him, so close they were all he could see. With a surprised shout, Spider pushed himself up to lean back on his arms and tried to scramble backward a little, in his rush hitting his forehead to the face above him.

"Monkey boy! Ouch!" Kiri's voice returned to the air as she began to rub the spot between her eyes, right above her nose. She reached out with her other hand for Spider, grabbing his arm and stopping him from going very far. 

Spider palmed at his eyes, forcing himself to properly sit up: "Kiri?" 

"Yeah, it's me skxwang." /moron/

"You scared the ever-living shit out of me:" Spider's voice was a little rugged, rough from sleep, and a little breathy from the quick movements to get away. His own forehead hurt a little now, but it wasn't as bad with the wound on his chest amassing all of his attention. "Sorry, I didn't mean to do that:" He added as his eyes followed the girl's motion.

"It's fine:" Kiri said, dropping her hand quickly from her forehead. She didn't want it to seem like Spider had hurt her badly, since she knew he tended to overthink. "I see you've picked up some new phrases. Ever living shit?" She chuckled at the strange saying. Jake had tried not to teach the kids to cuss in English but had done a rather poor job. The words would simply slip when he got hurt or frustrated, his brain somehow reverting back to the human language.

Ever-living shit was a new one. Spider had learned it from his father, though that detail was left untold. 

Spider shrugged at her, not really having an explanation for the saying. 

"Peu kem si mefo plltxe?"/what do they speak-say/ Ronal asked, grabbing Spider's attention. Her voice is light, and her eyes curious, directed at Jake who is sitting slightly behind Kiri. Spider hadn't even noticed he nor Ronal were there, too taken by Kiri's sudden closeness to observe where he even was. 

Jake leans toward Ronal to begin a hushed conversation and tells her not to worry, the two kids are simply talking about stupid things. 

Ronal huffs at his answer and crosses her arms: "Poan lu spxin mi poe syaw poan skxawang. Ma oeyä Eywa!" /he is ill yet she calls him a moron. Oh, my Eywa (the Na'vi equivalent of saying 'oh my god')/ The last part she says sounding entirely rankled by the children in her home. She even rolls her eyes to the skies while shaking her head and mumbling about the bickering of children.

"Stop with the English you two. It is rude when she does not understand:" Jake states in English tapping Kiri on the back in an encouraging way. It isn't often that he needs to tell his kids to stick to Na'vi, but leaving the Tsahìk out of the loop in her own home was rude.

Spider's eyes catch something and zero in on it: "How'd you hurt yourself?"

"Huh?"

"Your wrist. It's cut. How did you hurt it?" Spider repeats, now nodding toward Jake and the injury on his inner wrist, just below his palm.

Ronal and Kiri turn to look too. Kiri simply sighs, grabs something, and gives it to her father. A dapophet pod for him to heal himself. Ronal on the other hand lets out a disapproving sound. "The boy looks at you for two seconds and spots an injury. Yet you do not see one on him for ages." She sounds exasperated and annoyed, wrenching the pod from Jake and extracting the healing juice herself when she sees how clumsy Jake is with it.

Jake looks ashamed, but quickly his face softens as he turns to look at Spider: "It is nothing. I cut it on some coral on the way. Don't worry about it, just focus on yourself for now, ok?" 

"Stupid!" Ronal says angrily, the air leaving her with the word in a loud huff: "You want the boy to speak up when he hurts and then don't say anything yourself when you are bleeding. How is he to learn when you don't show by example?" 

Jake waits a moment, thinking of her words and finding them irritatingly correct. He's rapidly realizing that maybe he has passed on his self-sacrificial habits to Spider. He certainly did on Neteyam. He reaches out to give his wrist to Ronal, the cut there isn't longer than the length of a finger and not deep at all. The blood has dried already. It really isn't a worrisome cut and would have healed on its own. But Ronal is right. He should show his son that even small scrapes ought to be tended to.

Spider watches the interaction with slight annoyance. They've somehow turned this situation to be about him. How? 

"Spirr how do you feel?" Ronal asks Spider, as she quickly swipes some of the pud juice to Jake's skin, much more careless with him than she'd been with the boy. She decides to forge on with what was her role in this village. She was the healer and there were questions to be asked from a newly awakened patient.

"Oh. Oel ngati kameie Tsahìk. I feel fine:" /i see you clan leader/ Spider rushed to speak, and it isn't entirely a lie, simply teetering on the edge of being one. He feels better than he has in days.

Kiri shook her head, throwing it back in exasperation before giving a quick glare toward her father.

The boy was a liar. Not that Ronal knew. Was Kiri the only person here to see that?

Ronal moved her hands to beckon Spider back to the spot where he'd woken up, and he shimmied toward her, refusing to lie down even when the woman did sign him to. He could pretend like he didn't understand her. "Kiri has worked with me to make you a remedy that will not harm your skypeople body. It will not heal you overnight so you need to return here each day in the morning."

Each morning? Having Jake check his hair to make sure he hasn't gone swimming is bad enough, he doesn't need the additional task of coming here, being fretted over when he is fine, and losing time he could spend on chores! He starts rambling on in protest.

He shook his head, attempting to stand up, only for Jake to lean in and press his hands to his legs to halt him: "Listen to Ronal she is Tsahìk and she knows what is best for you, Spider." His voice is gentle but orderly; Spider knows this is not a request but a command, one that he would see followed both for his own authority and to ensure Spider showed respect for the woman.  His hands were soft, though they pressed a little too insistently for Spider to be able to shake them off had he wanted to.

Kiri smacked faintly at her father's hands for Spider's sake, but the man won't budge. 

"I do not mean to offer insult to you Tsahìk, but if you just tell me what I need to do I can care for my own injury just fine."

The woman only proceeds to shake her head, practically in tune with Kiri's annoyed huffing. "Accept the help monkey boy. There is no need to make this hard for yourself." 

"I simply-" Spider began but was quickly cut off.

"I am Tsahìk! What I say goes. Every morning after sunrise you come here or I shall send the Olo'eyktan to get you for me." Ronal's eyes narrow as she leans in to make her point. Jake starts to speak in a hushed tone to Kiri, too low for Spider to make anything out. 

Spider holds a strange staring contest with Ronal. He doesn't wish to defy her, and he won't, but it is not easy to relinquish himself to the care of another when he'd looked after himself for so long. With his father- With him... It had been easy. There wasn't a choice. He went where his father went, he ate what his father gave him, and taught him what he demanded to learn. He'd been taken care of by his father for many months; not that he noticed it himself until much later. Maybe it was denial back then. The absolute conviction that his father could not be fatherly, caring, or interested in his health. 

Spider had to swallow those thoughts away. 

He nodded: "I will come. No need to ask the Olo'eyktan to bring me. I only wish to not be a burden." 

Ronal stared at him a little longer. Her eyes softening now that she had confirmation of his co-operation. Her heart was calm and settled. 

"Jake Suli and Kiri:" She turned her eyes to the father and daughter who stopped speaking to give her their attention. "I want you out of my Marui so I may speak to him alone." She raised a stern hand to ward off the disagreements Kiri immediately jumped to say: "You may wait outside it will only be a moment." 

Jake stood up politely and took Kiri's hand even though the girl tried to wrangle it away. He started pulling her up but Kiri did not want to go: "I want to stay with Spider." Jake hushes her, pulling his daughter more insistently, before simply swinging her over his shoulder, earning hisses from her in protest. They fade with them as they leave, though the yelling Kiri starts outside is still loud enough to be heard rather vividly within the home. 

All Spider wanted was to be alone. By Eywa did he hope Ronal would not have much to say and he could leave this Marui soon. He could go sit on his spot on the beach, and look at the sea. Maybe deal with his hair... Do some light fishing. His chest stings in protest of that. 

"You wish to leave:" Ronal speaks as if she knows. It isn't a question.

Spider tries to find a path through this conversation without seeming insulting. Then like lightning, he remembers he's left Tuk waiting for him, after promising her a fun day outside: "I was meant to meet Tuk. I did not think I would be here for so long."

Ronal understands. Disappointing children was not something she liked to do. And often the resounding tantrum that would follow wasn't worth the risk. "How does the remedy feel?" She asks changing the subject back to the real questions she needed to ask. 

"Cold." 

"Cold?" She tilts her head. That was not something Kiri had told her would happen. The liquid itself was not any cooler than the water outside. What a strange sensation to cause in the boy. Her mind itched to ask more, but she doubted the boy trusted her enough to go in-depth into anything when he was so deadset on not speaking of his pain. "Is that the only feeling you experience?"

Spider thinks of it for a minute: other than a slimy, weird feeling of the liquid being so slathered on he didn't feel his previous stinging or thudding pain at all anymore. Now it was replaced by a slash of cold, like a large icicle pressed sideways to his chest, dug into his flesh, and left there to melt. His skin under it feels like it's hardening, the cold so close to making him constantly whine about the sensation. It felt like his chest would never know the warmth of the sun again. The hot blood that ran through his body met the cold sensation as his only means of defense against the deceptive pain.

He still hurt, but the pain felt different. This partly was why Spider was such a good liar. He could twist his words in pretty ways. He could get even his mind to believe something untrue. "I don't feel the same pain anymore:" Was his answer to Ronal. Technically true, since the pain of the cold felt very different; which is why she believed his clever wording. At some point in his life, Spider had gotten so good at making excuses and bending the truth that he didn't need to lie anymore to keep his deceptions going.

"Good..."

The moment grew heavy and awkward. 

"I want you to speak to me should you need something. Or Tonowari if you find him easier to approach." Ronal says after a moment. A more fond look appears on her face as she slips into the role of a mother: "If the wound aches or you require healing elsewhere. If you need someone to teach you something, or you can't find your way around the village. If you need food..." She looks thoughtful and slightly thrown off-guard herself as if the offer for something to eat had slipped in accidentally. Suddenly Spider was very self-conscious about the state of his body. Had Ronal noticed the lack of weight on him? "You can ask for help should you need it."

"Irayo..." /thank you/ He will not ask for help. They both know it.

Spider looks away, unable to hold her surprisingly kind gaze anymore. He stares down at his wound and the balm covering it. His body wants to shiver but he doesn't allow it to.

"You should not get the wound wet. No pressure on it, keep it clean if you can. I don't want to find sand or dirt in it. Don't touch it either if you can help it. You can clean it out in the mornings with water before you come to me; use even light movements and don't scratch at it. If it bleeds the balm needs to be reapplied." Ronal lists off her demands, well they're orders really on how to take care of the wound during the day. He doesn't need to do much, just needs to avoid some things. He feels like a child being told not to take off a band-aid from a papercut. Stupid and small.

"Yes, Tsahìk:" Spider says with a bow of his head when she asks him if he understands.

Once again they sit silently, the only sound being the sea and the two Sullys fighting just outside. About him, Spider guesses, but for some reason feels no incentive to listen in on their conversation. Kiri's voice is practically the only one he can hear; Jake is just... Taking her ire. 

"Tonowari will teach you the way of water:" Ronal offers up a conversation once more. Spider can't tell why she is stalling. "Our way of living. Even if you can swim you need to learn to do it like us. He will teach you all you need to know; you can trust him in the sea."

Spider thanks her again. 

The awkwardness of the moment seems to worsen in the air. It feels so physical that Spider wonders if he could smell it if he breathed through his nose now. What a stupid thought, what would awkwardness even smell like? Mold maybe. It's stifling really. The hair on the back of his neck rises knowing there is something Ronal wants to ask, but can't quite bring herself to yet. The moment stretches, and he hates waiting now more than ever before. He wishes she wouldn't ask at all about what was on her mind. It's a hopeless errand.

Ronal's voice is more careful and contemplative when she finally begins to speak. She is trying not to offend. Spider closes his eyes with expectation. "Will you be alright in the Sully Marui?" 

Spider's jaw loosens and drops open: "Huh?" He sounds stupid.

"Are you well there?" 

What is this? A child protective services questionnaire? 

Spider can faintly remember that there had at first been orders that he was to be confined into a Marui; not that anyone had told him about it. Uexo had specifically referred to the Sully Marui as the one he was meant to be in, but on the first night, Neytiri had not allowed him there. Tonowari and Ronal must have still been under the impression that he lived with the Sullys in their home... And now suddenly they were worried enough about his safety to ask such a shameful question. His gut was telling him that Ronal knew the origin of his injury, but his mind was denying it fiercely. 

Jake might have told her. Kiri too. It was certain she knew, but Spider's mind kept rotating through excuses of why she might not. This was just a routine question. Oh, yes, something the Metkayina may ask often. It was a feeble chance, infinitesimally small in fact, but Spider clung to it anyway. 

The thought was beautiful but fleeting. 

"I am:" He says it like a promise, even as a tremor runs through his body. With conviction strong enough to even fool himself. "The Sullys have always treated me well." Another lie. Not to him, no. Spider fully believes his words to be true. It is Eywa who disagrees. 

If Ronal and Tonowari thought he lived with the Sullys, where did the Sullys think he lived?

Chapter Text

Ronal huffed as she tried to get up from the floor of the Marui to go speak with Jake one more time. She had conditions to give to the man about Spider, and there was still a conversation that needed to happen regarding Neytiri. As much as Ronal would love to think that this whole mess was over and dealt with she simply felt like that would not be the case.

Being so heavily pregnant now her legs had held her weight poorly on the floor, and now they were tingling and somewhat numb. It was like stepping on two soft mushrooms instead of pillows. 

A small hand came to take hold of her wrists. Spider was so tiny. Only as tall as her now that he was standing at his full height, and she was on her knees struggling to stand. 

"Tung oe srung ngenga nefä, Tsahìk:" /let me help you up, clan leader/ The boy posed his words and tone like an offer. He wanted to help but didn't necessarily demand to be allowed to do so.

"Oe syokup pxelo nì'ul to nga:" /i weigh thrice more than you/ She looked at him with suspicion, doubting his form could even carry her weight. What if he crumbled like a stepped-on seashell? Not only would that harm him even more in this weakened state of his, but she would surely then fall as well. She had the safety of her baby to think of.

Spider smiles gently: "Oe omum. Oe kelku si hu Na'vi nìwotx tìrey." /i know. i lived with Na'vi all of (my) life/ He positions his hands better on her arms to have a more sturdy grip. "I speak your language just as well as you do. I know the people's ways and I know Eywa's stories. I know Na'vi better than Na'vi know me." Ronal gets a feeling that this is the first time the boy is truly speaking to her freely from the heart. Honorifics forgotten with his resolve. It is pleasing to see strength of the heart in the boy. "I know how much of your weight I can take. I know when I can help and when I can not. And I would not offer aid if I were not certain I could carry the weight; especially when failure would place risk upon your unborn child." 

Ronal grasps the boy wherever she can and nods. She wants to tell him she trusts him, but that feels premature.

With a grunt, she shifts some of her weight to his hands, and they hold steadier than she'd expected. His face becomes serious and grimaces of exertion, but he lets out no sounds of discomfort. Her weight sways towards him, her belly having changed her center of gravity. It doesn't matter as he steps in a way that helps her out; as if he'd done this countless times before. If they were the same height he would be pulling her upwards to help her stand, but with him being so short he has to push her up instead, hands heavy on her elbows now. Only once does his leg shake under the load, but by then she is already upright. 

"Thank you, Spirr."

"Anytime, Tsahìk Ronal:" He replies with a carefree offer. Once again he thanks her for her healing, asks her if she needs help with anything, and then leaves when she tells him he is allowed to go. 

Ronal watches the boy as he steps away, seeing that his shoulders are a tad hunched most likely to avoid stretching out the scar by having his back straight. He walks with sure steps and appears better than when he arrived here. Still, she isn't as sure of the amount of help she was able to provide as she normally would be. He might be better off now with treatment for his wound, but is he well? He was a strange enigma; the boy that did not belong. He was not even mad at her for forcefully putting him to sleep and then going against his wishes about healing him. Thanked her for doing so even though she broke his right of self-governing. Was he truly appreciative of her help or was he saying what she wanted to hear? He was so willing to help and be of use - so unwilling to accept any aid.

Her hand rubs absentmindedly at her belly.

He shuts up the telling off that Jake is getting from his eldest daughter by simply stepping outside of the Marui. Ronal feels... Something while she watches him embrace Kiri, disappearing behind her tall frame. 

All thoughts of speaking to Jake and Neytiri are gone. 

She will see Spider again tomorrow morning.

Spider feels uneasy as soon as she leaves the Marui. He can not tell why, something in the back of his mind simply wants him to move. To leave and hide somewhere. Even when Kiri hugs him the feeling does not dissipate.

He can tell she is speaking because he can feel her body moving with the words as he has his palms pressed to her back in a comforting manner. He hears none of her words. She speaks quickly, based on the patterns of her breathing, and yet the rambling is like background noise as Spider tries to catch a sound or sign of whatever is making him feel on edge. 

He would love to look around, but he can see nothing being pressed up against Kiri like this. Kiri has taken the time to ensure his chest does not touch her, so as to not irritate his injury. He himself wouldn't have even thought to do that. Kiri doesn't even seem to mind that his skin is sticky with the sunburn healing treatment. 

She is simply a comforting embrace. 

He can feel her hands on his back, arms circling him nearly entirely; they are as long and thin as in the past. Her scent is the same flowery mix now with an added hint of salty sea air. Her shawl is on her shoulders, and the beads in her hair are switched to new colors. She has some type of dye on her fingernails. The pressure of her hands on him is so familiar. So much of Kiri has stayed the same. So much of her has changed. 

How he's missed her. He feels so selfish that even now he wishes he was alone somewhere. 

A sob takes him out of his thoughts: "I'm just so sorry that I haven't noticed. I've been terrible to you Spider. I understand if you want to yell at me for-"

"Whoa, whoa Kiri!" Spider cuts her off. He feels like an idiot for not listening to her properly. Has she been beating herself up about his injury the whole time while he just stood there in her embrace like a statue? Kiri didn't do anything wrong. Not now or otherwise. How could she? Kiri was perfection to Spider. An innocent, comforting presence. "When have I ever yelled at you?" He says that with a chuckle, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. He takes a step away from her to take her hands into his and look at her properly. Is she a little taller than before? Her hands feel a little bigger, and drier too though the latter is most likely due to all the seawater.

"Never:" Kiri mumbles, her eyes downcast and sad. Her bottom lip quivers. She considers telling him that maybe he should. It might make them more equal in their friendship. She'd certainly yelled at him once or twice. Usually about his own health, but still. Anger could be a healthy thing too as it was a natural emotion.

"Why would I start now? Seems stupid to do that." 

Jake steps closer to the duo. Why do they look oddly like they are reuniting? They must have already spent plenty of time together at Awa'atlu. There was no way Kiri or Spider had stayed away from one another. The two were like magnets. Planets with their own gravitational pull. Spider acted like Kiri had hung up the stars in the sky. Jake shook out his thoughts. There was much to be done. A lot to be spoken about and apologized for.

"Spider we need to have a talk:" Jake started with a firm voice. How would this conversation go? What was the right time to start? Should they discuss alone or should Kiri be there too? 

The talk they'd had last night had been exhausting, and the whole time even with Jake pleading with Spider to just tell him if something was wrong the boy had been covering up this. No suffering in silence bullshit you hear me, son? That's what he'd said. It had been an order. A desperate one at that. How had they ended up here? Where had it all gone wrong and how could he have missed such a big wound? A voice in his head told him he'd decided to not see what had been right there. It had to be wrong. Jake didn't know how he could ever view himself as anything else but a terrible father if the voice was right. 

"Mr Sully." Spider had an unsure voice. He hadn't let go of Kiri's hands and certainly didn't look like he was about to follow Jake anywhere. Jake hated his own name from the lips of the boy. Why would he not call him even just Jake? Sir and Mr Sully were the default. And that was his own fault. His tail let his agitation of the name be known, whipping in the air before curling towards the ground. Spider's eyes trailed its movement: "I think we could both use a breather. If that's okay with you, sir."

To his own shame, Jake thought of it. He'd love to walk away in that moment. Shame was curled so deep within him. The feeling of failure as a father and loss of respect from Tonowari. The trust he had from the boy had cracks in it now. It was overwhelming to come so viscerally face to face with his own inadequacy. He wanted to go home. To lay down in bed and rot in it for days to avoid the outcome that the events of today would bring. He wanted to apologize too. To see understanding and forgiveness on the face of the boy.

He wanted to be forgiven so much he could feel the need for it at the base of his spine. It would be a forgiveness he did not deserve. He wanted the boy to yell at him, to pull at his tail like an upset little kid, and to heal. If he could do something to make that wound go away right now he'd do it. 

But maybe Spider didn't want to be close to him now. Was it apprehension on the boy's face? 

Should he step away for today and give the boy space; if he did was he really doing it for the boy or just for himself? His mind was a mess, could he even have a legible conversation right now that would have them both walk away better off? Could he put his own emotion into words? Would the conversation be hollow? It was hard to come to the comprehension that even as an adult and a father Jake had more questions and answers. Every plan and idea he had felt like it would bring him to an undesirable outcome.

By Eywa if Jake was a better man he'd fall to his knees now and beg Spider to tell him why he hadn't confided in him. Had he said something that made it seem like the boy couldn't tell about this? He was a part of Neytiri's deed now, having neglected healing from the boy. Neytiri had made the cut, Jake had let it fester. 

He wanted to say something to Neytiri. Wanted to go home and fight with her. Would it make her more alive than just being the grieving husk that she was now? He wanted her to yell at him too. Wanted Ronal to storm out of the Marui and punish him somehow. 

He wanted justice for Spider. But when he himself and Neytiri were the perpetrators how could he achieve that?

The boy hated him. That made sense. Maybe that was why Spider had looked so uncomfortable during their talk last night. Maybe he'd just wanted to get away from Jake and that's why he didn't say anything about his pain. Being near Jake had been worse. 

"UGH!" Kiri lets out the annoyed groan that was very much in her main vocabulary by now. The sound of a vexed teenager she'd mastered a few years back. "Stop spiraling you dimwitted fool." Her head is leaned back to look at the sky before it rolls to the side to look at her father: "Clearly Spider needs a bit of time. Even if you 'need to have a talk' it can wait." Her voice lowers to a mocking tone when repeating her father's words. Her annoyed disposition is lessened by the fact that her face is still teary.

"Kiri..." Spider says lowly, quietly trying to veer Kiri away from meddling. He didn't want the two to fight again.

"If you wanna be dad of the year or something you're kind of behind on the race. Maybe try listening to Spider for once." She simply adds, the irony of it being that at that moment she also didn't listen to Spider. That was fine though; she was doing what was best for him. She knew better than her dad, and sometimes even better than Spider. "If he wants a break, give him a break. It's been a busy day."

Jake crosses his arms, he can see the value in his daughter's words, and the disparage in her tone: "I see your point, now stop with the tone young lady."

Kiri's eyes roll. 

Spider and her father begin to speak softly.

The girl's gaze lands on her mother.

Her head jerks up straight, looking forward. There, crouched on a woven path outside of a Marui is Neytiri. Her body is stiff and waiting, half covered by large clay vases; behind which her eyes meet Kiri's. She is like a huntress stalking prey in the night, hard to spot, covered in shadow, and in a perfectly optimal position to see into the Marui they had all just exited. 

Her hiding place is from a different group of Maruis, the nearest unconnected one to the Tsahìk and Olo'eyktan's home. Close enough to get an undisrupted eyeline to the Marui yet far enough to be able to watch without getting spotted. 

Neytiri's fingers peek over the edge of a green basket that she is holding, curled around it like a lifeline, not a muscle moving even now that she knows she's been caught. But caught doing what? Spying? Kiri knows she's currently observing her mother doing something she shouldn't be doing, but instead of anger, it is confusion that flares up within her. Her mother looks like a wreck. Ashamed and concerned. Like she might be a little ill even. It might just be a reaction to being detected by her very upset daughter; only the look in her eyes had been there before she'd noticed Kiri had seen her. It was a preexisting emotion. And it wasn't there for Kiri.

Kiri feels her own eyes narrow and harden when her mother's gaze flickers from her to Spider. She steps to the side to cover the boy with her own body. What right did her mother have to see him now? To look at him? How dare she even attempt it! Whatever inner turmoil her mother was experiencing regarding Spider didn't matter to Kiri. She was here for her friend and for her friend alone. 

Finally, the anger from below flickers to life again, watching as her mother's fingers twitch and wring themselves against the green of the basket. A nervous action that seems very out of place for her. One Kiri didn't know how to read. 

She wanted to storm over now. Wanted to begin yelling from where she was, hurling things across the water. Anything to drive the woman away. To make her leave Spider alone. He'd be spooked if he saw her now, Kiri was sure of it. She couldn't blame him either, it really did look like her mother was prowling about. If she did start to scream and wail Spider would espy Neytiri too. And stress was bad for him now.

Instead, she resolves to stare down her mother as if to dare the woman to move first. She shifts her body to be sturdier, to stand taller, deadset on covering Spider entirely. While Neytiri and Spider did need to talk; it would not happen today. Kiri would not allow it. If Spider didn't even feel up to speaking to her father; who the boy practically idolized; he certainly wouldn't be ready to speak to Neytiri.

Kiri wants to grab that stupid fucking basket from her mother. Wants to shred it to pieces. It was a strange creation; the color being so vibrant and clear. It was a sturdy weave too, one that must have taken ages to make; the holes in it small and nearly perfectly circular. Neytiri had taken to carrying it around their home. She would use it for everything. Mixing spices, preparing fish, and storing her beads when she took them out of her hair. It mattered to her; so Kiri wanted to destroy it. Her fingers curled to fists. Her tail whips in the air. Her ears lower. 

Neytiri straightens up so slowly that at first Kiri doesn't even realize she is moving. The woman stands at her full height, the look on her face dissipating and turning into something lesser than even indifference. Whatever she'd been there to do didn't matter anymore. 

Neytiri takes a step forward, her body suddenly exposed to direct sunlight; as beautiful as ever. 

Kiri's hand lifts up and before she knows it she is signing at her mother: 'Leave. Or I cut.' Repeating her mother's words from the boat back to her. She is entirely determined to get the woman away. To ensure she does not come here. Kiri's mouth opens silently to bare teeth.

Neytiri's step falters and ends. Pain flashes on her face. Release or I cut echoes in Kiri's own head with the distinctive voice of her mother.

Neytiri takes swaying steps backward, her body like the perfect blade of grass in the wind, disappearing back into the shadows she'd stepped out of.

Chapter Text

"Norm is coming tomorrow. He will bring spare masks and batteries for you:" Jake said as he held his hand on Spider's back and led him through the Maruis to return to the beach. "Is there anything else you need? He won't be making another trip for a long time, if at all." 

"Mr. Sully I don't need the batteries, but clothing would be nice."

"Of course, you need more batteries. I don't want to put you at risk in any way, and not having a plan B, C, D all the way through Z puts you at risk in my book." Jake's brows scrunch, sparing a glance at the boy who seems to walk the Metkayina paths gracefully already. Even if the boy distributes his weight strangely while doing so. 

Spider shook his head and looked up at Jake: "No really I don't need them. I have one that charges from the sun, and it lasts way longer than normal batteries too." He gave a smile, turning his head to tap at the battery cover of the mask.

Jake stops: "Charges from the sun? That's new." He can distinctly remember that when he'd been human and still needed a mask, trials of testing for sun-charging masks had all failed. 

Spider shrugged, stepping over a bowl left in the middle of a woven path.

"So where did you get it?" Jake asked, dreading the answer, but wanting confirmation nonetheless.

"The RDA of course:" Kiri spoke up from behind. For a few minutes now, the girl had been quiet, stiff, and easily irritable. She was making her way after them, and Jake was rather sure that she'd steal Spider away for the rest of the day as soon as he turned his back. Thankfully she didn't sound upset anymore.

Spider hummed in agreement. He clearly didn't want to speak about the RDA, but Jake knew it would be a conversation they needed to have at some point anyway. First, he'd let the boy settle, find his place in the tribe, and start feeling safe and secure. No need to ambush someone with questions when they are already tense. And well... Jake didn't have the best track record with PTSD, with the whole throwing Spider at Neytiri whenever she went catatonic thing and if the boy needed help dealing with trauma he wanted Norm and Max's take on it first. Otherwise, he might say something stupid and mess everything up. 

"It must be nice:" Kiri continued. "To not have to charge and switch out batteries all the time anymore. And you have less to carry too."

"You aren't going to make a stand that everything the RDA can give you is bad?" Spider questioned, glancing over his shoulder at Kiri with a tightness to his shoulders, that melted away when he saw she was smiling brightly, undisturbed.

"Not when it comes to you." Kiri legged it a bit faster to catch up and walk on Spider's other side covering him from any village onlookers: "Whether we like it or not their tech has advanced from when they were last here, and I think if anyone deserves to benefit from it it's you. You actually live here and call Eywa'eveng home. Why should those people have an easier time living here than you?" /pandora/ Jake ponders at her words. His daughter surprises him rather often. She always has a different perspective on things than anyone else. "I say if they have something advanced that's gonna make your life easier, you deserve to use it. Even if it was made by them." 

Oh, the wonderous mind of Kiri. Jake looked at her fondly, reaching over Spider to quickly pet down her hair, even if she smacked his hands away once again.

"You are right maite:" /my daughter/ Jake sweetly says. She doesn't look at him, but Jake sees the faint curl of her lips anyway. A smile. Perhaps she would not scream at him all night when they got home for the day. 

Jake notices Spider's gaze drifting, sucked into a memory or a thought maybe. Then he spoke about the sun-charged mask: "Life got easier the second my father gave me one."

Spider's words felt like they stopped Jake's heart. The boy wasn't probably even aware of the words he's used. But by Eywa he'd called Quaritch his father. Jake didn't know if he wanted to barf or cry. Probably cry; with a familiar sad pain in his chest. The hand he had at the boy's back shivered before he absent-mindedly brought it to the boy's head to pet it fondly just as he'd done with Kiri. For Eywa's sake, the kid had known Jake all his life. He'd been there for him, sort of, (not well enough) but was still called Mr. Jake and Sir. Yet Quaritch had been promoted to father in under 8 months? 

The knee-jerk reaction was to tell the boy Quaritch was not his father. That the role belonged to him and him alone. Yet it seemed every choice he made regarding the boy was the wrong one. So giving himself a moment to think seemed smarter. It was time to start giving far more time and attention to the boy. You couldn't parent every child the exact same way. And he wanted to learn how to be the best father for Spider. He wanted to find out what worked with him; what would improve their relationship and what might damage it. Jake felt he had a lot to make up for. No. He knew he had a lot to make up for. And he wouldn't keep repeating his mistakes. 

If his first instinct was to deny the relationship between Spider and Quaritch, he'd not do it. Maybe acting against parental impulse was the next route to try out.

'"I wish I had another to give to Norm so Max could have it:" Spider said, still looking thoughtful and like his mind was far away. Jake smiled. That was sweet of him. Jake had almost forgotten that Max was very uncomfortable with leaving his lab, and if he did he stayed at high camp.

Some years back there had been an incident with Max's battery in his mask suddenly depleting. He'd been more inclined to stay indoors after, panicking when he'd go out and have to wear a mask again. The trust in the life-allowing item had been broken. It was sweet Spider could remember and immediately thought of Max when finding something that might give him a bit more freedom again. No need to worry about a battery depleting if it is daytime and constantly charging from the sun. A newfound appreciation that Max had come to aid Kiri after her seizure came to life within Jake. Spider had a way of speaking about people so softly it made everyone around him appreciate them more. See people better. 

"That's nice of you to think of him Spider."

"Did you ask for clothes?" Kiri suddenly spoke with a tone of confused disgust. Jake then saw the strangeness in the request as well. It was impossible to get Spider to wear human clothes. He could remember the endless tries of Norm and Max to get the boy to wear anything but a tewng and they'd been rather unsuccessful. /loincloth/ They'd chase the boy around the base, force some clothing on him only for the child to take them off as soon as he could. Spider simply hated the feel of clothing and preferred the look of Na'vi wearings anyway. 

"I need to cover up from the sun:" Spider said with an unhappy expression. "It's fine, I'm not that upset." He was. "Ronal's orders. 

Jake could see the benefits in clothing, as Kiri began to prattle on about what kind of outfits might be best to swim in.

He was fine with just listening to his daughter, as she got a little pep back into her step. It seemed every moment the girl felt more comfortable, having her best friend and brother back with him having accepted her apology; or more told her one wasn't needed in the first place. 

A silence settled on as soon as their feet hit the sand of the beach. "I will still have Norm bring batteries:" Jake says.

"Why?" Spider asks, turning to look at the man with a confused expression: "The sun-charging one is fine."

Jake places his hands on Spider's shoulders gently. He crouches down in front of him and smiles: "I know we agreed we'd have a proper talk in two days. So that you could rest and think things through a bit. You already know I've made many mistakes and that I regret them and want to do better. I believe the first step to that is taking extra care for your comfort and safety here." 

Spider began to protest, but Kiri nudged him silent. She turned to the side a little to look away and act as if she wasn't listening to every word.

"I should have been dealing with all of this as soon as your feet hit the beach. The Metkayina don't know about the safety precautions of having a human around but I do. And I have no excuse." Jake looked a little sad even with a gentle smile. He slid his hands down very carefully so as to not wipe away the healing salve from Spider's arms. He took hold of the boy's hands and then just held them. "Tonowari will teach you about the sea because that's what he knows best. He can ensure you learn every danger and how to avoid them. That's what'll keep you safe in the water. I'll deal with everything that you require to keep you safe as a human existing on Pandora. That means having a backup plan for every piece of your mask. And a backup plan for the backup plan. And an extensive knowledge of everything you can eat here. Which is why Norm is also bringing one of those scanner things. So we can get to know every human consumption suitable thing here more in-depth. You are looking a little skinny, so I want to check you are getting a balanced amount of nutrients. We'll find something with tons of protein and fat to increase your calorie intake too." The boy's eyes peeked from under his eyelashes to look at Jake. "I meant it when I said I would never turn you away again. I won't overlook you anymore. I am terribly sorry that I have done so till now."

Spider seems to take a breath and let it out slowly before agreeing. 

"This time we won't simply have a chat and let it be. I will show you with my actions that I am looking after you from now on. No need to take my word for it if I prove it to you, right?" Jake smiled softly, but he still managed to somehow look sad: "But you need to give me a chance kid."

Spider rubs his thumb and forefinger together: "Okay." He speaks so quietly it's hard to hear.

Jake understands anyway, a minor shift of weight being relieved from his heart: "Now tomorrow after Norm lands we can go through everything he brings you. If there is anything you don't know how to use I'll teach you. After that, we'll choose where we keep everything, so you always know where the mask spare parts are, where the batteries are, and the fastest way to get to them."

Jake knows that having clear plans, instructions, and locations for when shit went down was how firemen were so efficient on earth. They followed the same pattern when dressing so they could be ready to go in seconds. They knew where each tool was, how to operate fire hydrants, and how to safely enter burning buildings. They were always fast but also precise. So he would teach Spider what to do if his mask malfunctioned using the same methods that firemen did. Time is precious when you can't breathe, whether it is because you are in a burning building, or on an alien planet. 

This was the best way to keep Spider safe. He'd also teach his kids and Neytiri where everything was. Maybe Tonowari too.

If Spider had a reckless streak, then Jake would be extra cautious for him.

"I'll walk you to Ronal every morning, we can meet in front of our Marui. I'll check the mask then too." Jake pondered for a moment if he should mention checking the dreads for water, but he felt very reluctant to even hold onto the old punishment.

There is a strange expression on Spider's face. For a second Jake thinks the boy is about to argue- but he doesn't.

"I'll make sure Norm brings plenty of clothing, and painkillers too. The nights here can get cold and we run hotter than you so maybe a thick blanket too. And something to fight the infection..." For a second he trails off, eyes downcast to the wound. He feels a tightness in his throat again. "After we are done with all of that you can have your fun day out with Tuk." 

Spider looks hurt for a second, before bringing looking down at his wound just as Jake does. He looks even sadder then: "Yeah maybe it'll be better tomorrow when I have a shirt. I don't wanna freak her out with the whole..." The boy trailed off, not needing to explain any deeper. 

Jake nods, really only wanting Spider to rest today, but accepting Spider's alternative reason too. 

Chapter Text

Kiri and Spider had walked away from the village together as soon as they could. Kiri had a hold of Spider's hand the whole time, leading the boy to an area of the beach that had a large tree growing in the middle. They sat in the shade under it. The sand was surprisingly cold there, away from the influence of the sun. Kiri leaned against the tree, and Spider settled to lay on the ground next to her, one knee propped up, his arms relaxed at his sides. 

For a while, they were just quiet. Spider reveled in it. A still silence that didn't feel oppressing or uncomfortable. He'd been a fool to think he didn't want to see Kiri. Being here with her was so natural, the same as in the forest. Kiri and Spider had a good relationship. Spider felt so silly now for thinking that it wouldn't eventually go back to being what it had always been. He felt strangely content as well that he'd known to give Kiri space. That feeling would disappear soon.

The girl eventually begins to shift in unease. At that point, Spider had already closed his eyes but he cracked them open to look at her. "What's wrong Kiri? You're fidgety." 

He'd been so nervous to see her. So worried she'd be as angry as she'd been last night even though he'd known her anger had been out of concern for him. Kiri could sniff out when he was upset like a bloodhound, and recently that was all he'd been feeling. He didn't want to burden her.

"I just want you to know that I didn't stay away from you because of Neytiri or anything like that:" Kiri mumbled. She couldn't look Spider in the eye, wringing her hands together now. Refusing to say her mother's name, remembering how she'd looked while watching her friend from afar. "I know how hurt you were when Neteyam did that to you without an explanation, just because he wanted to please her so much."

Spider froze. It was the first time he'd heard anyone say Netayam's name since he'd died. The last time he'd heard it it had been from Neytiri, screaming his name in horror and anguish. Sometimes Spider heard her scream it again when he slept. It was hard to tell if he was dreaming it, or if the sound was actually coming from the Sully Marui.

"I wouldn't think that of you. Ever." He smiles at her gently, once he gets over his spout of shock. "There is no one more defiant to their parents than you, Kiri." Especially when it comes to me; his mind adds. An unhelpful, warm feeling spreads in his gut. His mind trying to desperately confirm his own importance to the girl. How can he be nice around Kiri, have her open up to him and let her apologize when he has such a big secret? The guilt of knowing Quaritch is out there is eating him alive. "Like I said before I don't want you to apologize. You didn't do anything wrong. And I've been enjoying some time alone too." He kind of still wants to be alone right now. 

"Well I still feel bad about it:" Kiri whines. "I feel like I've not held your hand while you've started a life here. Like I've missed out on so much. And I saw the wound at the funeral and it looked fine. Like it was healing well. I don't understand how it deteriorated so quickly! And I know I'm not the one who should be asking about what it was like... With the skypeople. Yet I can't help but feel like I've just abandoned you to solitude right after you got free from them." She rambles on and on, a nervousness evident in her tone.

Spider shakes his head to stop her: "I'm not even ready to talk about all of that. You would just have overwhelmed me if you had. I'd rather we don't talk about it at all really." Spider props himself up on his elbows. He looks up at Kiri, trying to be earnest with his voice. He doesn't want her to doubt him, and when she finally looks at him, her eyes are moist. "Hey, none of that now." 

Spider sits up and moves closer. He takes her hand again and holds it tight. "You'd just lost- Neteyam." The name comes out a bit garbled from him, suddenly entirely unfamiliar to him. He lowers his voice when saying it, feeling like that name should never come from his mouth again. "And you were grieving. There is no shame in wanting to sort through your thoughts by yourself. I knew you would have come to me if you needed me." Then his brow furrows, the words feeling bitter in his mouth. Wasn't that exactly what Jake had assumed about him? Had Spider overlooked Kiri in the exact same way? Had he made her feel abandoned and like he'd not bothered to reach out... When it looks like Kiri is about to speak to apologize again Spider rushes to speak over her: "Besides I could have come to you too. And I didn't."

Silence reigns again. Kiri makes Spider lay back down and then stretches out next to him. She's grown a bit too from what he can tell. Laying side by side like this his feet reach just past her knees, when they used to go halfway down her calves. 

"We're both just stupid teenagers:" Kiri says under her breath.

"We've both overlooked each other. But it hasn't damaged our friendship, and we just won't let it happen again. Right?" Spider says, knowing that Kiri would never accept him taking the full blame on the topic. 

Kiri humms in agreement: "Orphans stick together."

Spider feels a whole lot less like an orphaned child now than he used to. Knowing his father was out there, and wanting him. Son. Come with me. "Yeah... Orphans stick together." He sounds unsure even to his own ears, especially as a tremor runs through his body and makes hs voice quiver. He still tangles his fingers to Kiri's offered ones. 

Chapter Text

They kept talking until Spider's stomach rumbled loudly. "Hungry monkey-boy?" 

Spider looked sheepish: "A little."

Kiri got up, grasping Spider's arm firmly to pull him standing too. "We can go eat together at the community cookfire."

Worry attached itself to Spider, but he tried to keep it from his face. He'd not be welcome, he was nearly sure of it. And while he did think maybe Oìeetxo would defend him from the rest he didn't want to put her in that position. Spider's heels dug into the sand as she started pulling: "No, no, it's ok I can eat later."

"Don't be stupid-" She turns to look back at him with that scowl she reserves for when he is especially stubborn. Suddenly Kiri's eyes grow wide and she slaps a hand to her mouth, little bursts of giggles coming out with gasps of air. She let go of Spider's hand.

Kiri was so beautiful when she laughed. She had her teeth showing each time, these little creases appearing at the sides of her mouth. She'd always lean forward a bit, her shoulders shivering occasionally. Her eyes would stay big and wide open. And the sound that always started as an entertained gasp turned into sporadic giggles. "What?" Spider said, shoving Kiri very lightly on the shoulder: "Stop, tell me what you're laughing at." Kiri's hand clutched over her stomach.

Spider looked down at himself and saw the cause. The liquid balm Ronal had made as sun protection had been way more sticky than he'd thought. He was utterly and entirely covered in sand. It was a miracle that it wasn't annoyingly grating at his burnt skin. Thankfully it was just on the backside of his body, and a little on his sides where he'd laid on the sand. His chest and belly had stayed entirely sand-less; which meant the wound on his chest hadn't been affected either. He did not want to go back to Ronal for help so quickly. "Oh c'mon." He whined, trying to rub some of the sand off, but it just spread more and more. "Ugh, this is so stupid."

Kiri still giggled away, watching as he tried to scrape off the sand, before intervening to make him stop: "You'll take the ointment off too. We can go ask the Tsahìk to reapply it after you wash in the sea." She managed to quiet her laughing but the big grin on her face did not disappear. Spider's face was flushed red in embarrassment as he prattled on about how he wasn't going to do that. Something about that moment just felt so perfect to Kiri. She loved the familiar expressions on the boy's face. How he scrambled to act when getting laughed at.

How only she could make him blush like that...

Kiri places a hand on his mask without a thought. An automatic, unplanned action that caused his eyes to land on hers. Her grin dialed down to just a happy smile, her tail waving back and forth behind her. "I've missed you so much Spider:" Her voice sounds like her own properly for the first time since Neteyam's death. She recognizes herself in those words. Knows they are right and true and fully from the heart. She feels like herself again. The guilty feelings she'd spoken about to Spider had vanished. The constantly looming sadness is momentarily gone; she feels fearless and strong. Her anger doesn't exist within her anymore.

"I missed you too:" Spider whispers; quietly as if he wanted the wind to take his words away. Kiri catches them anyway, each syllable like a little treasure. Their gazes hold each other for a moment, caught in their own little webs. Spider breaks the tender moment when it overwhelms him: "But look at me now, I can't go to the cookfires. I'll be the laughingstock of the whole village."

Kiri shakes her head, her braids swiveling: "I won't let them laugh at you."

"If I go I'll take half the beach with me:" Spider moans, as his whole head slumps down.

"Maybe the wind will shake it all off?" Spider gives her an unbelieving look. "Ok, fine; we both know it won't. But sometimes sand clings to us when we are wet and lay on the beach, so it won't be that weird for anyone to see you like this." She lifts Spider's chin up: "Besides. I'm hungry too." She's lying. "You won't make me go hungry will you?" 

Spider rolls his eyes: "Are you saying you won't go if I don't?" 

"Yup! So it's your choice."

"I don't think I have a choice when you're practically blackmailing me, Kiri."

"I know. That's why I chose to blackmail you." Kiri smiles openly at her own cleverness. There isn't a reality in which Spider would see her go hungry or cold, or really any other negative thing that he can somehow fix. It really upended the power dynamic between them constantly. It's the classic; if you don't take care of yourself then I won't take care of myself conundrum.

Reluctantly Spider follows her after that. Kiri begins to talk about the food here. What she likes; what she doesn't like. Fish skins with mashed leaf filling makes her give an audible hiss of disgust when she talks about it: "Imagine those Pandoran burrito things that Norm makes, but turn the leaf wrap slimy, and then fill it with something that tastes like moss with the dirt still in it."

"Sounds disgusting:" Spider laughs.

She pushes out her tongue and makes a face: "A crime against Eywa is what it is!"

Spider learns that Kiri feels guilty about eating fish these days. She doesn't say why; just that she does. She says her favorite thing to eat here is a purple fruit that grows near streams in the jungle: "It's the color of a sunset on the inside, and the seeds are yellow and flavorful." All the herbs here are a little salty according to her and her favorite type of fish is blue. She's absolutely certain that the color of this one round fish can predict the weather. "If it's blue it'll rain the next day, if it's red it'll be very hot, and if it's purple we are getting a thunderstorm." She says the Metkayina disagree with her on it. She is sure of it anyway and has begun feeding the fish so she can always be prepared for the right weather the next day. She loves the taste of dried seaweed. Her fingers prune in the water if she spends more than a few hours in it. A human trait she's inherited that they didn't know of before moving here. She's jealous that the Metkayina have a second set of eyelids that keep ocean water out of their eyes; she thinks they see better with them. She hasn't made any new friends but that doesn't matter anymore to her; now that he's here. She feels closer to Eywa than ever before, but her voice is sad when she speaks of the Great Mother.

All that information Spider had yearned to know of Kiri's life here is his. He wishes they'd never reach the village. That he could just keep humming and agreeing along as she speaks. Watching as she walks over fallen driftwood like it's a game of balance. Seeing her eyes flee to look at the sea just as often as his do. 

His wish doesn't come true. They're back at the village much faster than he'd anticipated. Spider can practically feel eyes on him. He refuses to look anyone in the eye. While normally he'd try to be as respectful and open as possible, with Kiri here he just wanted to not draw attention. Not an easy feat for a forest Na'vi and human. Kiri whispers something to his ear about annoying onlookers and shifts her grip on his arm to force him behind herself. There goes that last scrap of the calm they'd had when it was just the two of them.

Close to each other as they can be; they arrive at the cookfires. Kiri keeps Spider where she has him and looks around for a good spot for them.

Spider peeks out from behind Kiri, upset that she feels the need to hide him so. It's not out of embarrassment or shame, but because she'd rather take the curious eyes on herself than him. "We can go sit over there:" Spider speaks out quietly, and points off to the side.

Not many Metkayina are here anymore. Spider and Kiri are a little late for food. The main fire where most of the food is cooked has been put out, but a few smaller ones remain. Only one of them is entirely unoccupied, and that's the one Spider wants to sit by. He nudges Kiri on, trying to get her to move when he hears the few voices from around them go entirely hushed. The feeling of being watched increases. 

He hates how his body tenses at the eerie quiet. 

Kiri openly hisses at someone when Spider hears a chuckle from a little ways away. Whatever rude whispers were being exchanged he wasn't privy to, but with her better hearing Kiri could hear them clearly. Spider looks down at his own feet, self-conscious for far more than just his species at that moment. Had they spoken of him or Kiri? If they spoke of him it was fine, but if they spoke of Kiri he wished he'd at least have the chance to defend her. She would never tell him if that was the case. Too stubborn to let him fight her battles.

Kiri leads them to where Spider pointed, and has Spider sit down with his back towards the rest of the people there. He doesn't turn around to look; he knows his back will be far less interesting to them than his face. He doesn't want to give them the satisfaction.

"Ignore them Kiri:" Spider says, his upset still evident in his voice.

Kiri's ears are pinned back. She isn't trying to actively listen, and he's grateful for that. She'd always been hurt by people thinking she was strange and a freak. He'd hoped it wasn't an ongoing perception of her here, but her disposition gave away that the Metkayina found her peculiar too. A bitter clench happens in Spider's heart. Suddenly being a part of the Metkayina doesn't seem as desirable as it had in the past. He could take being the odd one out, especially if he was generally accepted into the clan. But his head could never overlook the poor treatment of Kiri. 

Na'vi had kuru's, Na'vi had tsaheylu, Na'vi could connect to Eywa and understand Her on a level he couldn't. /neural queues, neural connection/ So how were they so blind to what he could see clear as day? 

That Kiri was Eywa-made perfection.

Chapter Text

Kiri and Spider took a while to return to unison. They tended to follow the same paths and roles when they did something simple like cooking together. Being apart so long had caused some momentary stutters in their teamwork. It was a lot of awkward sorry's when grabbing for the same thing or forgetting if the other liked something added or not. They were two nervous and clumsy idiots, trying to ease back to a time when life was on a comfortable loop. And it looked like their mundane life occasionally appeared as a fleeting comfort before things went awkward again. 

Neither of them minded it much, trust resetting itself to their bones.

They'd figure it out, no doubt about it.

They made a simple smoked fish that they stuffed with a few herbs Spider could eat. It wasn't a grand meal or anything, but making it together felt like old times. They took as little from the Metkayina as they could; as per Spider's request. 

At some point the people around them went back to whatever they were doing, voices rising back into the air as conversation started once more. Spider was just relieved no one was dragging him away by his hair or screaming insults at him. It seemed like a successful first visit to the community cookfires. However, he expected his Kiri-shield to be a supporting factor in him being left alone. On an occasion or two the girl would briefly bare her teeth at someone before rolling her eyes, or huffing. When her gaze would return to Spider she'd smile as if nothing happened. Like it didn't bother her when she was with him.

The warm food felt almost too hot in Spider's mouth. The fish had an oily taste to it, and the texture was tender. Chewing it felt unnecessary with how it would fall apart in his mouth. The food must have been hotter than he thought even, because as he ate the sense of taste started disappearing from his tongue. It began to sting too.

"Good?" Kiri asked at some point after she'd scarfed down her food. She'd always been... An efficient eater. No one could quite beat Lo'ak though.

"Good:" Spider replied, nodding his head along. He pulled a fish cartilage out of his mouth. He hated eating them since they felt scratchy and sharp when he swallowed them. Kiri's eyes trailed the movement. Spider let out a pleased sigh and rubbed his belly a little too obviously for it to be entirely convincing: "I'm full. You want the rest?"

"Mhm:" Kiri took the leaf Spider's fish was on with gratitude. Na'vi needed to eat bigger portions than humans, so it was common for Spider to give away some of his food. "I've missed this:" She says with her mouth full. Spider can practically hear Mo'at telling her to not speak while she chews. 

Spider chuckles, averting his eyes from her, only for them to land on her braid, which is twisted around her body and lying on her knee. "The extra food?" 

"You:" She says, and bites the fish again. It should probably sound fond coming from her. That's what she must have been going for with her tone, but it's more amusing than anything with how her voice mumbles past the food. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand and swallows: "Just you being here. Everyday."

He smiles- Nothing needs to be said.

"I want to go swimming with you." Kiri eats the final bits of the food and turns around to throw the leaf into the jungle. She swipes a small braid by her face behind her ear.

Before Spider can reply his ears pick up far more clear voices than before. Approaching ones. Males, loud, obnoxiously so. They laugh and jostle about, feet hitting the sand, words ever more tangible. It's enough to make Spider almost turn around and look to see who's responsible. If he had a tail it would be agitatingly swiveling side to side... Just like Kiri's is. Spider's eyes begin to track the movement, he sees she's abandoned her previous request as her eyes narrow. His back stiffens and he shuffles a tad closer to her. "Let's clean up and go:" He offers, placing a hand at Kiri's elbow. She doesn't acknowledge him.

"Too late for that." 

Kiri's knees shift on the sand, one palm lays on the beach sand as she shifts some of her weight forward; ready to move. 

"Nìn tsaw- Suli... Snewsye." /look at that- Sully... weird/

"Narvä' 'evengan. Vrrtep reypay- 'ur hì'i." /unsightly boy. demon blood- look(s) small/

"Hahah!"

"Ayoeng sweylu ke- Tonowari." /we shouldn't- Tonowari/

"Fnu! New- tse'a lok." /quiet! want- see close/

The words Spider can pick up are few and far between. It's annoying how capricious their voices were. Fluctuating in both tone and loudness, most likely mingled together with sign language too. The bits of information didn't tell him much, except that he disliked these people. Weird. He'd heard the word too many times. And he knew that first sentence wasn't about him. His eyes trail Kiri's stance; hers follow the movement of whoever closes in from behind him.

He has to quickly let go of any idea of physically defending Kiri. He couldn't afford to get into a fight, though if things would escalate past a certain point he surely would. Knocking heads with a Na'vi properly would most likely leave him in terrible condition, and there was no way the blame wouldn't be placed on him. He was the outsider and even worse; a demon.

"Hey! Suli girl!" A voice called out, another one laughing after it.

Kiri scoffs: "Just go away! Leave us alone."

"Alone? With that thing? Doesn't seem smart to do that with this beast around." Leering laughs ensue. It's not funny from any perspective. 

"Yeah, maybe you should go home freaky girl." Another speaks up, and only a soft slap of skin on skin tells Spider he's been told to step down. 

"He's not a-" Kiri goes to defend him, only to bounce onto her feet and charge right at Spider. He has to lean back, quickly catching himself with a hand on the sand as the girl barrels at him. Kiri steps over him, a leg pressed tightly to his side as she stands practically above his sitting form. Leaving him caged up and unable to get up without having to wrestle her off first. He can hear the clack of her teeth snapping together as a warning, a resounding hissed sentence following it: "Don't touch him."

For a moment Spider is frozen in shock. Kiri has similarly physically defended him before; once or twice from Omatikayan kids that would be rude to him. Using the fact that she has a bigger body and a biological advantage to be the shield he lacks as a human. It was always just as shocking. Kiri was the type to have her battles with her words- if she could even be bothered to. And nearly never took such a strong physical stance. She would bad mouth you in clever ways where you might not even realize you were insulted, or she'd pretend to be unbothered. She might walk away with her eyes rolling while telling her brothers (or Lo'ak mainly) to not start a fight since it wasn't worth it. Fighting wasn't her style, but for Spider she'd bare her teeth, snap her maw, and look as menacing as she could. 

It wasn't simply flattering. It was proof of how Kiri cared.

"Kiri is not a freak:" Spider says when he manages to; his voice more vile than he wanted it to be, unable to keep the fiery tone out of it. He cranes his head to look towards the people: they look like just teenagers. On the cusp of their iknimaya. One of them has a hand reached out towards him; one that Kiri now grasps with her nails, pressing them in tightly.

Spider recognizes that boy. At Neteyam's funeral, he stood near the Olo'eyktan and Tsahìk, his arm around a girl around the same age, comforting her. Both their faces had been marred with utter disbelief at the death of someone so near their age. The girl was not here, but a boy who'd stood with them was; standing at the back of the group and looking a bit uncomfortable.

The boy Kiri was glaring at was taller than the rest; his hair was neatly braided to his scalp and gathered into a bun before it flowed open with curls from it. He wore a thick rope with a dark tooth or a talon of some kind at the end. His wearings were simple; a leather belt with a tweng made of some kind of twisted cord. /loincloth/ An armband with iridescent seashell chips decorating it; glimmering when the sun hits it. He has a knife sheath, dark leather with a rope weaving decorating the edges of it. His knife was thankfully still tucked into it. Not a very long one, but a thick one that was curved and looked like it would hurt like hell should he get cut with it. The handle was decorated to every minute detail. It was most likely the nicest thing on him; a sight of humility in how plainly he dressed himself. 

His voice, however, left a whole other picture: "Fnu vrrtep! Fu oe tìfnu nga." /quiet demon! or i silence you/ His voice was demanding respect, an obnoxious tone to it, that grated Spider's ears. The thought that he didn't like these people strengthened. The look on the boy's face told Spider enough. He looked at him as if he was something to step on and dispose of. No fear or concern was evident on his face even though it seemed the automatic reaction from nearly all other Metkayina. This boy thought himself better, more deserving. He was obviously the leader of this little gang, the other teen's eyes flickering to him at standard intervals. Seeking approval and checking for what sort of approach they should go for.

"We don't speak to demons:" One of the other boys said, his hair braided at the top but otherwise open and long. His necklace was a ginger color with long sharp teeth in a row of five hanging from it. His face was rounder, but he looked far more ready to be openly aggressive or mocking. Spider recognized his voice as the one that had called Kiri a freak. His eyes narrowed, instantly hating the sight of this boy. It was pathetic really how much he looked for instruction from the leader. Eyes immediately flashing to look at the taller boy; his lips curling in satisfaction when he heard a chuckle as a response. It reeked of insecurity.

Spider snapped his mouth shut; a hand curling around Kiri's ankle and softly tugging, signaling her that he wanted to go. Kiri simply shifted her weight more on that foot, making it sturdier and refusing to budge.

"Spider is not a demon. He is one of the people." Kiri's argument was soft at best, her very real anger not making way for very clear thoughts.

"He is not. It is foolish for you to be so openly around him." The tall boy yanks his hand out of Kiri's grip and then tries to grasp her by her other arm. The attempt is foiled with a quick swat at his hand. For a while, he is just staring at her, hardiness in his expression but also mild surprise: "I did not come here to start a fight. It is best we take you to your brother and leave the skyperson behind." It is as if the boy is switching his words from demon to skyperson to keep Kiri more complacent. It doesn't work.

Spider tugs at Kiri's foot again, his back is strained from having to lean back so, and there isn't much room to freely move. She could at the very least move a little. "Aonung, I am perfectly safe with Spider, thank you:" The last of her words are spoken with open contempt and mockery. "Lo'ak would agree." 

"Would Neteyam? Or your mother?" Aonung asks, tilting his head a little, his hands open to his sides; a show of him not trying to instigate anything. Kiri hisses.

The mention of the oldest Sully child is a knife to Spider's heart. A reminder the boy had died saving him. Had not been safe with him. It hit hard and felt horrifying, worse than the coldness in his wound that he was trying his best to ignore. For the first time, an insult about him being dangerous was true. Had he been smarter, faster, and stronger on the boat Neteyam might have survived. If he'd been tougher he could have saved himself just fine. Instead of getting another shot.

"That's a bit far Aonung..." The boy from the back of the group spoke up, looking guilty and worried. He kept glancing around; waiting for something to happen. "Your father-"

"Stop being a coward Rotxo!" The most aggressive of the teens spoke, looking at the smaller boy over his shoulder with a scowl. Aonung's free hand landed on his sternum, pushing the boy back a little and giving an order for him to be quiet at the same time. 

Spider was picking up names as he heard them. Rotxo seemed the least happy to be here, though some of the other youths also looked like they were doing something they shouldn't be. They at least laughed along; Rotxo didn't. His hair was short and pointing up; left natural and unbraided. He looked a little younger than the rest, most likely not ready for his Iknimaya yet. He didn't have an armband and his only piece of jewelry was a necklace of white carved wood. His stripes were a bit darker than the rest of the kids. A gorgeous turquoise color that stood out well. 

Spider hates that he can't properly look Kiri in the face from where he is on the ground. He wants to know if he should be stepping in.

"You're still nothing but a pathetic bully Aonung:" Kiri hisses out, one of her palms coming to rest on Spider's head. There is a modicum of hurt in her voice. 

Anonung scoffs and crosses his arms, looking down at Kiri as he tilts his head ever so slightly up: "Is that so? Yet here I am trying to make sure you're safe with the outsider, ready to escort you to your brother safely."

"I have always been safe with Spider. And you are not the Olo'eyktan so you don't get to bark orders." 

Aonung looks bewildered for a second, then pissed off before he settles on laughing. The other teens join in with the exception of Rotxo who just looks away. "Safe? Don't make me laugh. It was his kind that shot your brother dead."

A resounding slap makes Spider's head jump up, catching the sight of Aonung pressing his hand to his cheek. 

"Stupid-"

"Hey!"

"Kiri!" Aonung says the rest of the sentence disappearing. He seems to think for a second before his gaze lands on Spider, a sneer appearing on his face: "Kiri I'll ignore you hitting me for the sake of your grief." It's a surprisingly grown response from he boy. One that Spider had not expected. "But you must see how backward you have things! You stand above him as if he is a little cub in need of protection, and then you hit your own kind." 

Kiri peeks down at her friend, having practically forgotten the stance she'd taken at this point. She moves her legs carefully around him, not wanting to step on him as she goes closer to Aonung. She steps into the space between the two boys and looks at Aonung. Her eyes were as cold as steel, her tone deader than a gravestone: "Spider is my people far more than anyone else. He Sees me as well as Eywa does. He is not to be blamed for Neteyam's death." When Aonung goes to argue she just keeps speaking with utter conviction in her voice: "And I swear on everything I believe in that if I hear you speak about my brother's death so frivolously again I will send my mother after you."

Spider can barely see half of Aonung's face as he slowly gets up, muscles aching in protest. The one eye that is visible to him tightens as the first sign of actual fear. "How do you think my mother would react when hearing you throw her dead son's name around for petty arguments?" Everyone present knows that would not end well for Aonung. Deep down Spider's heart knows that Aonung using Neteyam's name to goad Spider would not lessen her rage. It would be twisting the knife in the woman, and Neytiri would find it unforgivable even if she hated Spider.

Spider brushes off some of the loose sand on himself and lays his hands on Kiri. One on her back, the other high on her arm. A soft touch meant to comfort. 

Aonung's eyes drift from Spider to Kiri. There is a stillness in the air. Unsure and pressing. This could go two ways now. On one side Aonung could grow angry, deny that he'd been disrespectful, and start a real fight. The only other option was for him to swallow his pride and truly apologize. It appears Aonung is not as stuck-up as Spider had thought: "Forgive me. That was not my intention. It was your brother's will I was trying to respect- not tarnish his name after it has been laid to peace." One of his hands raises to press over his own heart, demeanor softer and apologetic now. 

The aggressive one of the teens groans in annoyance and turns his back to the display of open apology. Seemingly this had not been the development he wanted to see in this conversation. The other teens shuffle about; two of them breaking off from the group and walking away to an approaching adult Na'vi. Most likely to be a distraction and lead them away. 

Aonung continues his sudden shift in disposition: "I simply thought he would not like to see his little sister with one that looked so alike to those who took his life:" Aonung explained. Spider could see his point. Guilt twisted in his gut.

Spider's eyes still stay on Aonung, his hand runs down Kiri's arm in a way he hopes is comforting. The boy shows signs of... Maturity- In his apology. 

"Well, you were wrong. Neteyam loved Spider." Kiri's voice is clear and even her words strong as a mountain. 

Spider can't help but wonder why she bothers with the lie.

Chapter Text

"He's the Olo'elyktan's son. Aonung I mean." Kiri explains a while later once they've walked away from the situation. 

Spider nods. He'd guessed by the way the boy carried himself, but truth be told he didn't see the resemblance. Maybe a spark of his father had been in him when he apologized. He'd seemed genuine and Spider believed that the boy had just attempted to follow what Neteyam would have wanted. "Is he always so? Umm..." Spider tried to find the words to describe Aonung's attitude without being insulting.

"Pompous? Idiotic? Thick-headed? Presumptious?" Kiri offered, rolling her eyes and tugging Spider closer to her by the hand she still held. Spider's fingers curled in between hers to strengthen the grip. 

He smiles mischievously: "If anyone asks you were the one to say that, not me." 

"I'll say it to his face too if he starts being annoying again!" Kiri promises, heat flaring in her voice. She tugged Spider into a shadow cast by the tree line. She still remembered the point was to not let him burn, and they'd spent a bit too long in the sun by the cookfires. "The answer to your question is no. He's not always like that. He was ordered to teach us the way of the water with his sister Tsìreya. At first, he really detested us. All of us, not just me. He was an ass, who thought he owned the place and could say anything he wanted with his little goons flanking him. And it got worse before it got better. Lo'ak will tell you more if you ask him, they had a whole thing go down." She scoffs, her gaze tightening a moment at some distant memory before she settles to lean against a tree.

Spider is not the least bit surprised that Lo'ak and Anonung had butter heads. He'd bet his own head off of his shoulders that they'd clashed more than once. Lo'ak had a tendency to not let things go and to allow things to escalate to a fight. Still, Spider didn't like the thought of Lo'ak fighting the Metkayina teens. The odds in numbers were not in his favor.

"But after that things settled. He started spending a bit more time with us just for fun. Wasn't just an asshole all the time. Told us about Tulkun and helped us get a tracker off of one. Generally tried to help when we got in trouble." Kiri shrugs looking a bit forlorn: "I really thought he was turning around. That we could be friends. But I see he's just slid back to his old ways with you." 

Spider presses a hand to Kiri's elbow: "I can handle that. Don't worry, I'll just stay away from him." He keeps his voice light and reassuring; trying to not let on that some of the things Aonung had said had actually gotten under his skin a bit. "Besides he seemed genuine when he said he was just trying to do what Neteyam would have wanted." 

Kiri rolls her eyes: "They didn't even know each other that well! How would he know what Neteyam would have wanted?" She looks tired. As if she'd had this same conversation a million times in the past. She crouches down to pick up a stick and starts drawing in the sand with it. It kind of looks like she's starting to make a shape, but it just looks like squiggles to Spider. "Besides... All he did was harass us and yell at you. Neteyam certainly would not have wanted that." She wraps an arm around her own knees, pressing them to her chest. "He loved you-" She adds so quietly Spider almost doesn't hear it. 

His own face cringes at the words, before he lowers himself to the ground next to the girl and picks up his own stick to draw with. He starts making a wavy line, but it's all messy. He ends up with a jumbled strange composition of lines that make no sense. It's maybe better to leave the topic at that, so he just chooses to be quiet. His muscles are so sore. His thighs drawn tight from holding Tuk's weight last night. His body is exhausted from a long day, wanting to sleep already even while the sun is still just above the horizon. Night is quickly falling upon them. The thought of sleeping with this sickening coldness seeping into him through his chest causes a shudder in Spider. He wants to claw the salve out of the wound. The sand stuck to his skin felt more grating now. At least the teenagers hadn't made fun of that. There was enough about him to mock without the sand anyway. Too weak, too strange, too dangerous. 

He'd been an idiot to think the Metkayina would even notice the sand. He was a demon and that was all they could see. 

His body wants to lay down and give up right here and right now. Just be next to Kiri. Listen as she draws nonsensical things on the sand, hums a tune, holds his hand... 

He's been fed. He's been healed. He's had warmth and companionship today. All in all today he was better off than he'd been the day before. Better off than in a while now. Briefly Spider wonders if it really is his body that is tired or if it's simply his mind that wants to lay to rest and not wake up.

"I love you Kiri:" Spider says not knowing what spurs the words out. He can barely see Kiri by his side from in between his dreads. They sway as his body tremors.

She lifts her head to look at him: "I love you too monkey-boy."

When it's time for Spider to go do his chores by himself he says goodbye to Kiri. The girl hugs him for a long time, nearly unwilling to let go. But she says she must go do something also and thus they part. 

Kiri is on a mission. She isn't stupid. Something is wrong with Spider still, and getting anything out of him was like pulling teeth. So she settled for option two, too unwilling to agitate him to honesty when she'd made so many mistakes already. Her feet bring her at a fast speed to where she wants to go, practically bursting into the Tsahìk and Olo'eyktan's home. 

"Tsahìk Ronal:" She asks for the woman's attention and gets it. The Metkayina woman had been in the middle of a hushed conversation with her mate. He now pressed a quick kiss to Rona's face, greeted Kiri politely, and then left. Perhaps already knowing he wasn't invited to partake in this discussion. Ronal watches him go.

"What is it, Kiri?" Ronal asks, approaching the youth that now stands at her door. 

Kiri takes a few steps closer too, entering the Marui fully: "I wish to speak plainly to you Tsahìk, and to be Seen as sincere for I am far have come to ask a deep favor."

Ronal tilts her head, her jewelry gently rattling with the movement: "Speak then."

Kiri closes the distance and drops to her knees respectfully, a move that she had barely ever done. "I wish to be a healer apprentice to you. I wish to develop my skill in healing and I would like to choose you as my teacher." 

"Hmm..." Ronal hums, she isn't surprised. With the strength Kiri looked at Spider she'd guessed the girl would come. Still, she wanted to know: "You ask me and not your own mother?"

Kiri nods, and Ronal doesn't miss the detail of the girl's fingers curling into fists. She respectfully keeps her eyes on the ground. "I do not want to learn from my mother. I want to learn from you." There is a stone on the girl's heart. One that she's settled there with determination. It seemed forgiveness towards her own mother would not come soon. 

"And you understand you would learn Metkayina healing, and it could differ greatly from the healing you've done in the forest?" The girl nods. "You agree to put aside your older teachings in favor of mine?" She nods. "You agree to treat all patients when given the order to, putting aside personal feelings?" Another nod. "You understand that healing under my teachings will need to be your top priority, and yet you shall not be mine?" At this the girl's brows lower in confusion. Ronal decides to specify: "Training the Tsakarem in the art of healing will always come above other students. /tsahik in training (referring to Tsireya in this case)/ You may have been the future Tsakarem after your mother at the Omatikaya, and thus been the main focus of Mo'at's teachings, but it shall not be so here. You need to know how to know how to relinquish the role of being the salient student." 

At this, the girl is quick to understand and reply: "Of course, I have no intention of being in the way of Tsireya's training."

"Good." 

They are in silence for a while.

"I can see your heart is set on this." 

"It is:" Kiri confirms.

Ronal still takes a moment to think. Training more than one will take more time, and Kiri would need to first unlearn a lot before she could become a proper Metkayina healer. But the girl looked so unequivocal in this choice. So set in her decision to learn. But would that conviction push her forward or hold her back? Only one way to see: "The it shall be so. I will teach you." 

Kiri lets out a breath before standing up. She hated kneeling. Hated bending to the will of another. Hated begging and doing as she was told. "You should know I do not take well to authority, though I will do my best." Ronal's eyes narrow at her words. "If it sounds like I doubt you, I don't. I am merely trying to learn and it appears the only way I know how to do that is by questioning things." She thinks of the last time she'd healed anything with Mo'at. When Neteyam had been injured with a cut to his upper chest and back: I would use yalna bark- oh and who is Tsahìk- you are grandmother but yalna bark is better. "It is a habit I have never been able to kick." She'd always questioned Mo'at. But after her grandmother would tell her why she chose something over another; and that's how she learned the best. 

Ronal hums again in thought: "We shall see if I can kick it out of you then." She speaks with an even voice, but the side of her lip curls. She is amused.

Kiri smiles back: "You can try. Though I doubt it is possible. I will try my best to be a good student." She promises this with an addition; the movement one would accompany to oel ngati kameie. /i see you/

"We shall start tomorrow. Come to the healing Marui at mid-day." Ronal begins to move away but Kiri's voice stops her.

"Wait. I have a clause to add." 

At this Ronal looks confused, maybe even a little offended: "You come to ask to be an apprentice without being approached for such a thing and now you have a clause?"

"Yes:" Kiri says determined. It's not traditional. It's laughable really. She asks for teaching and then practically demands that Ronal does something to earn the right to teach her. Only the two women both know she isn't doing any of this for her own sake. It's all about the boy. 

"Speak."

"I want us to look at Spider's plan of healing again. Something is wrong with the remedy. It causes him discomfort. I can see it no matter how he may deny it." 

At this Ronal tilts her head and ponders a moment: "He did say the salve felt cold. Is that something that would bother a tawtute greatly?" /skyperson/ She hates her own lack of knowledge when it comes to the enemy.

"They are more sensitive to temperature changes than we are." She looks back at the Marui door, wanting to go to Spider now. "I want to modify it to ensure no discomfort, and then I want to learn about every plant, every root, every piece of bark that can heal him on this island and in the water. In the forest, I always knew what I'd do if something happened to him. It is unnatural for me to not know how to heal him here."

Ronal understands. Even thinking of taking her children somewhere where she wouldn't know how to save them were they gravely injured caused her anxiety. "I am not an expert at healing his kind."

"Nor am I here. But I don't know where to start on my own."

It doesn't need to be contemplated any further so Ronal simply replies: "So it shall be then. First, we fix the remedy, and then we learn together."

Chapter Text

Shortly after sundown in the Sully Marui, a home fire burned in the middle. The Sully's were gathered around it, as Neytiri handed out bowls for supper. She'd made roasted fish with nuts from the food that had been left by their home that day. She'd had to whip it up quickly, since today the ingredients had been brought rather late. 

No one spoke. Kiri shuffled her food around, Lo'ak had almost already finished his, and Tuk was adding her dried seaweeds into her dish. "You can have this big tree and I'll take these little ones:" She whispered as she handed the biggest of the dried seaweed shapes to her sister. Kiri quietly nodded and thanked her, before looking at today's seaweed.

"Lots of detail:" She whispers back to Tuk, before piling fish sauce on the seaweed and biting a chunk off it. The flavor is good as always. A brittle texture with a fishy, salty tang that had an earthy aftertaste.

"What shapes did you get today Tuk?" Jake asks, trying to alleviate the awkwardness of their home.

"Trees:" Tuk replies, not interested in explaining more. She was still in a bad mood. Her father had told her Spider was feeling unwell and their play day would be postponed for tomorrow. Tuk didn't take well to being told no, especially since she'd been waiting so much for Spider. Usually, Tuk would be a cherished normalcy in their home. She'd gush about her seaweed shapes while trying to guess what they were, before starting a daily routine fight with Kiri about how they'd split them. Kiri loved the taste, but Tuk adored the shapes. Sometimes the younger would attempt to hog them, and Jake would have to step in to make them share fairly.

Not today. Now the silence didn't get even that momentary break of the two girls talking. It was suffocating, pressing in from all ways, culminating in an almost physical way at the empty spot between Neytiri and Lo'ak. The place that a son was missing from. Neteyam's name has not been said in this Marui for ages.

It couldn't be when it wasn't used to ask for his attention or to enquire about his day.

All their nights were like this.

Neteyam's bowl sat unused where the rest of his things were. Sometimes Neytiri would reach for it, thinking she needed to feed one more child. 

It felt like the only sound was the wind, blowing in and through the home, passing through the occupants that were nothing but ghosts. The Sully Marui wasn't a real home when all of its children weren't there.

Neytiri sits on her knees. Staring at her food, then at Neteyam's sleeping mat. Rolled up and left there, tidy as always. It hadn't been opened since the boy himself did so. It almost looked like Neteyam would come back home any moment, roll it open, and go to sleep. Oh, what Neytiri would have done and said had she known back then it was her son's last night alive. The final time he'd ever lay down next to his siblings and enter the land of dreams. How she wishes she would have slept next to him then.

Kiri won't even look at her. 

There is so much damage here. Kiri can feel it all around her. Not just in her family but in this very home. A part of her isn't here; the part that follows Spider around. How she wishes he was next to her now so she could lean against him. Trust him to pet her head, and make this place feel like a home again.

She has been told Neteyam's final words. By Spider; when she's gently asked in the shade today. Awa'atlu had felt like home to Kiri already. She'd thought her siblings had agreed. Now she understands Neteyam. After he's already dead. The things here that had felt like home feel inauthentic now. The sea is still a comfort, as is how close Eywa feels.

But now every day she wishes she were back in the forest. Back a years time. Living in the skies at high camp. Running around with Spider over the tall roots. Listening to Neteyam's nagging and his bedtime stories that always had a hidden lesson within. Picking berries and living life with only one fear; the skypeople finding them. Even then she'd never really considered that one of her family members might actually be killed. Now there is no way around the fact that even though their lives are upended nothing is resolved. There will be more fights and more war. No Neteyam.

It's hard to stay angry when she is so broken and sad. 

It's hard to feel like herself when Spider isn't here.

She can't look at Jake either. Her voice had been sweet with her little sister, but there was a tidal anxiety in her. A deep upset that would not disappear even now that the initial rage is gone. Her hands grip her bowl a little too hard. Her cheeks are a bit too flushed, keeping in emotion as much as she can.

Jake feels like he can't take this anymore.

Jake looks at his mate. Her mind is somewhere else as it is most days now. He wonders if she even feels alive. Maybe if he reached out to touch her, his hand would just phase through.

Tuk's excitement from this morning which had been such a wonderful thing was entirely snuffed out. Maybe tomorrow she'd be like that again.

Lo'ak had come home late. Just after sunset, when he was meant to return before last light. Jake hadn't bothered to reprimand him for it. Neytiri filled her son's dish again once he was done and still hungry. Jake watches as her hands give the bowl back to Lo'ak, steady and strong; but the affectionate brush of her fingertips to his chin didn't happen.

"How was your day Lo'ak?" Jake asks, knowing the answer.

"Fine."

He sighs, before looking at the smoke rising from the fire and disappearing from the ventilation holes of the ceiling. 

He'd rather take Kiri's fury from earlier than this still nothing: "Did you go feed the ilus Tuk?"

"Yes."

By Eywa even his youngest was picking up the habit of Lo'ak's curt answers. How many times would he need to ask the boy to lead by example?

Jake rubs his own hands down his face. "Ma yawntu-" /my beloved/ Jake starts, but the sideways look he gets from Neytiri silences him.

He'd brought up the topic of Spider today to his mate. He'd barely gotten out a sentence or two before she'd gotten angry... Or she'd attempted to be angry. And then suddenly she'd just- crumbled. The conversation had been halted then. After some time he'd been able to tell her the basics. Ronal was extremely upset, Spider needed to be looked after better, a punishment might still be coming for them. This could not continue. But the woman had simply been so unresponsive after he'd brought up the battle in reference to Spider's wound that he wasn't even sure she'd heard any of it.

Lo'ak jumps to his feet once he's finished his second bowl. "No. Sit down, son:" Jake immediately orders, pointing Lo'ak back to where he'd just gotten up from.

"I've finished eating:" Lo'ak says, visibly annoyed. At last, there is some emotion this evening. A full sentence instead of the small list of one-word answers Lo'ak would give when asked about his day. 

"I don't care. This is family time. Wait until everyone else has eaten too:" Jake keeps his voice stern.

Lo'ak mumbles something under his breath and sits back down reluctantly. He practically copies his mother's position; kneeling and eyes locked on the place next to him where Neteyam should be eating.

Jake's breath catches at the sight. He can't take this anymore. Is this really what his life will be now? Wanting to see signs of life in his family and only finding sorrow and loss? Was the damage so irreparable they'd never feel like a full family again? There didn't seem to be anything he could do. No way to fix his family when he himself was so devastated. 

He needed to find a way to make his mate see his love for Spider. He couldn't take losing another son. He must find a way to apologize to Kiri in a way that she will understand and accept. There's gotta be some way he can make his little Tuk prattle the same way she did before the battle. How can he bond with Lo'ak again? Find his son in the midst of grief, hold him, give him strength. Get him to speak again. To change things to be good enough again for him to not hide away with Payakan all day.

Is there a way to rebuild? Rekindle?

He wants Neytiri to look at him with love again. And then he wants to not have to feel guilty for how he's allowed her to treat Spider all these years. 

Tuk's lower lip quivers. Kiri's hands turn to fists when she is done eating and sets the bowl aside. Her nails press crescent shapes to her palms. Lo'ak's eyes unfocus. 

Neytiri is so still next to him that it's like she's holding her breath. Once again his mate does not eat. 

He can't do this anymore.

The wind blows. It's cool. The smoke going up towards the sky is a lighter color, less heavy as the wood starts to turn into charcoal. The rough shadow that the blazing fire has created softens. 

He can hear a family coming to the Marui nearest to theirs. Their children laugh- his don't.

Jake wants to go find Spider and hold him all night. Wants to watch over him, and make sure the wound is clean. What if he'd disobeyed and gone swimming and all the ointment had come off? What if there was dirt in it or he'd had a reaction to it later on? By Eywa the boy should be here.

The fire crackles and even the sound of the wood shifting is as loud as a shout. 

Jake's eyes land on his knees, dreads falling down around his face.

"I can't do this anymore."

There is a small sound of shifting. Another bowl is set down.

"I-" A pause: "I can't do this anymore." He barely recognizes his own voice. It's so quiet he wouldn't be surprised if no one had heard him. A shadow of a once proud man. Broken and littered around like the pieces of a smashed mirror. None of them reflect back who he used to be. No. This Jake Sully is something new. Unrecognizable; at least to himself. "Every night is just silence. We don't speak about anything anymore. It's like our house is filled with dead people:" The final two words come out as a gasp. "And I... I just can't."

A hand lands on his wrist. Small, little fingers trying to comfort. It's Tuk. His little baby, leaning against his side, cheek coming to his arm; pressed flushed against it.

"Dad?" Lo'ak questions.

"We aren't living. Or if we are then we are doing so separately. We've isolated ourselves when we need each other the most. And I feel like I can't grab onto any of you." His voice is so angry towards the end. So full of disappointment and longing. He lifts his head up; gaze landing on Lo'ak first who looks a little shocked. Brows scrunched together, head tilted down a bit. 

Jake's hand lands to pet Tuk's hair. 

"Truth be told I have no idea how to help any of you. I can't get my own son to speak more than two words to me and now my eldest daughter won't look at me." He chuckles at the end, before leaning his head back and blinking away tears. "I can't find ways to reach you."

"I'm looking at you now:" Kiri's voice is clear. A welcome sweetness. She sounds like herself. It's enough to almost make him sob in relief. "I See you, father."

Jake's shoulders slump. He's so tired he just wants to gather his family in his arms and sleep here. "I See you, Kiri." He lowers his face to press a kiss on Tuk's head. 

"Something needs to change:" He says, a tad of certainty returning to his tone. "When we sit to eat we need to tell each other what we did that day. If we had a good day; if we had a bad day. We need to be open. We need to be honest. By Eywa we need to feel something again. I can't keep watching you all waste away."

"Then we'll talk dad." Lo'ak moves closer, leaning forward to place a hand on his father's knee: "We'll talk." It's a promise. 

"We need to start saying his name again too..." It feels like his heart is being ripped out all over again when Jake fails to say his son's name properly three times in a row. He begins to cry: "Neteyam." It's more a sob than a name. But it's the first time he's said it since he'd lost his eldest. "His name shouldn't be some unspoken curse in this house. We all need to talk about him. Or we will never crawl out of this dark pit we are in." He sees recognition on his daughter's face. Kiri looks stunned before she begins to cry too. Softly weeping as she approaches, and then lays her head onto her father's lap. "I need to say his name. I need to speak about him."

"Ma Jake..." Neytiri's voice having honest feeling to it for the first time in ages wrenches another sob out of Jake. Her hand coming to rest on his back feels like coming home. Neytiri pulls her son closer and embraces him into the strange pile that is now being formed out of their family. Neytiri looks devastated, but also relieved. There is that hopelessly lost look in her eye, but the corner of her lip offers a sweet smile, one that might taste bitter, but is still real. 

"I miss Neteyam. I miss my son. I will miss him until the very moment that I die. But I can not miss all of you too. I can not miss my children who are two feet away. I can't do this distance this silence, this feeling like you aren't even here anymore." His head slumps down, looking at Kiri's face laid to rest on his knee, right next to her brother's hand.

Tuk slips her fingers intertwined with his. Neytiri does the same with the other hand. 

Neytiri's grip on both her mate and her son tightens.

"Oel ngati kameie, ma Jake" /i see you, my Jake/

Bursts of emotion settle into the home. The first steps have been taken for it to come alive again. The fire burns out while they are all still there, holding one another in the darkness.

"What happens now, daddy?" Tuk asks in a whisper.

"Now we learn to live without him."

Chapter Text

Tuk's admissions came out softly: "I'm sad now. I don't feel safe. I miss him." Tuk's words were such simple ones for complicated emotions. Ones that the girl didn't know how to properly voice. She's spoken to her father briefly before. Asking if the man who had killed her brother could come back. No, baby, he's dead now. Still, fear had been left behind. Unease. Not just for herself but for her family. They all understood her now. Reassuring, sweet tones promising they'd never let her get hurt. That their family could still be a fortress; they just needed to rebuild. Making vows to spend more time with her, saying she could speak when she felt the need to and that they'd listen and comfort her each time.

Young children had a way of bouncing back. Simple words could soothe their worries and pains. They had that level of trust that rarely made it till adulthood. An attitude that saw a better tomorrow.

She fell asleep cradled by her father as if she was just a baby once more. Her belly full, and thoughts calm, tears still stinging her eyes. Her heart was lightened. Elation mingling with the sadness; finally as she found true comfort in speaking up and having the support she'd so needed. A quick fix that might not hold, but one that the family would strengthen until happiness was back to being her default emotion. 

Neytiri needed a moment to just weep once Tuk was asleep. She'd barely spoken still. Unable to. Incapable. That's all she felt these days. Incapable and insufficient.

What kind of mother could not even soothe her own children? She was like a machine of the skypeople; cooking food, giving it out, but providing nothing further.

Lo'ak lent his strength to her, letting her lean onto him, trying his best to ensure his mother would come out of this stronger. He couldn't help but think that Neteyam would be better at this. And yet he'd never felt as much alike to his brother as he did now. Being able to provide support instead of being the supported one felt... Like a relief. He was helping at least a little. He wondered if Neteyam would be proud and for the first time in ages he knows he would be. Lo'ak is such a silent crier. Even now as he wept he let out no sound, the only proof being tear tracks that no one could see, and the wetness in Neytiri's hair.

"I know sa'nok, I know..." /mother/

He holds her as close as he can. Keeping himself together for her sake. A hand wipes away tears from his cheek and he can't hold back a hollow sob anymore. His mother's hands touching him again is such a consolation he can't stop his own voice. "Sa'nu-" /mommy/

Neytiri straightens up, her crying slowing down as she settles her breath. A few times a tearful mewl catches in her throat. Despite him being too big for it now she reaches out to pull her son sitting in front of her, before making him lean back to her chest. She holds him as one would a toddler. Normally he'd argue and be annoyed while covering up how much he actually enjoys the care and attention. Now he hides nothing, his face relaxing and posture softening.

For some time no one speaks. Jake still holds Tuk like a newborn and has Kiri's head on his lap, continuously running his hands through her hair. He can't even tell if she's awake anymore. She cries the same way as she did after her seizure. Mewling like a child who doesn't understand what's going on. Her shoulders wrack on occasion. "I don't want to be so angry anymore:" She whispers after a while, Jake's hand stilling in her hair. He knows. He knows the feeling is foreign to her, that it feels like a sickness in her soul. She's spoken of it before. He remembers that past conversation word for word. He feels guilty for making her so angry today. For being a deserving target of the wrath that always makes her feel so out of place. 

Neytiri shuffles closer with Lo'ak and lays her hand on her daughter's back. For now, at least Kiri allows it. Neytiri must appreciate it now; she might not be able to do so tomorrow. 

"When I come home I still feel lonely:" Lo'ak admits. His voice is strange from crying. They'd hardly ever heard it so. 

Jake and Kiri respond at the same time:

"So do I."

"Me too."

Quiet fills the space. It isn't awkward anymore; just sad and full of comfort. They hear and See each other now. Or at the very least are starting to. This silence is appreciative of the words that were spoken before it was allowed to settle. It has everyone wanting to understand and then finding that their own emotions reflect back the very same image. 

Anything can be said in this type of silence. It won't be out of place no matter what you admit to. All feelings are allowed and to an extent entirely mutual.

Confessions come spilling out, one after another as if they simply can't hold them back anymore. Hushed gasps of confidential words. Admitting things that would never leave this house unless they were repeated by the one that let them out in the first place. Secret emotions and feelings that wanted to greet sunlight again and hopefully with time- heal. 

"I really am angry all of the time."

"I don't feel like myself."

"All I dream about is him."

"My mind can't comprehend what's happened. It doesn't feel real, still."

"I'm worried about Tuk. I'm worried about all my children."

"I want to see grandmother again."

"Nothing feels like it did before."

"I don't like our new reality."

"All the time I feel like I've let him down."

"Sometimes I hear his voice even though I know he isn't here."

"I'm so devastated I feel like I'll drag you all down with me if I stay here. That's why I'm with Payakan all the time."

"I'm ashamed of how I've treated you all in the past. I haven't been the kind of father I wanted to be."

"I had to explain to Tuk that he would never come back. She didn't understand at first."

"The future terrifies me now. I don't know how I can keep all of you safe."

"I still haven't added Neteyam's death to my songcord. I just can't-"

"Speaking to you makes it feel real, but I also don't feel as alone and lost now."

"Me too..."

A nod in agreement.

Silence returns. Sometimes they talk in between confessions, reassuring and asking for clarification. A joint effort to See one another properly again. It's healing to finally understand §. Why Lo'ak has stayed away and barely speaks. Why Kiri is always in the water. Why Jake doesn't feel like the same father anymore. 

Finally, there is a happy confession one that was held back before by the fear of mentioning another unspoken name: "I spent my day with Spider today. It was wonderful." Kiri's tone is so soft when speaking of her dearest friend: "I felt like me again. Like everything would be alright. He gave me hope. And I hadn't even realized how hopeless I'd been until he returned it to me."

Lo'ak is a bit rigid in his mother's arms now. Worried she would grow mad over Spider's name. She didn't. Her other hand moving through his hair didn't still or even stutter. She was as calm as before; listening to her daughter.

"He has that effect:" Jake says. His own heart grows a little lighter that the boy's name has finally been properly uttered in their home. 

"Did you know I hadn't spent any time with him since the funeral?" Kiri asks her father and knows the answer already from how motionless he grows. "I hadn't even spoken to him since. Till today."

"I haven't either:" Lo'ak admits. His own voice sounds guilty and rough. 

Jake can't wrap his head around it. Once again he's failed. The moment of finally having his family open up is too sweet for him to bear the guilt fully now. He takes a deep breath, and sets those emotions aside; just for a moment. He needs to stay clear-headed and learn more. 

His own voice tight and restrained he asks: "Has he been alone this whole time?" 

The moment stills.

"I think so..."

Jake has to suffocate a sob. His children had not taken Spider to the water. He'd gone on his own. He'd not confessed his sorrows to Lo'ak on Payakan's back where they could be alone and vulnerable. He'd not even met Payakan.

Spider hadn't found ways to make Kiri laugh in between her crying about Neteyam. Hadn't petted her head as she opened up and mourned. Because Kiri hadn't been with him at all.

How could this have come to pass?

Spider was left without consolation entirely, and in a way so had Kiri and Lo'ak. The bond that boy had with his children was so strong; nothing could make them speak as genuinely as Spider. When he was around it was like their hearts and souls blossomed, telling him their secrets and emotions so openly without fear. Spider would always be a better comfort to them than Jake. He'd known that and accepted it. Nurtured it even. Occasionally when Kiri would grow angry or Lo'ak would feel anxious he'd cart them off to Spider, always trusting they'd come back feeling better. Having spoken about the topic and sorted through their emotions with the boy. He'd never been wrong so far. As foolproof a system as anything could be.

It had been a mistake in so many ways. How could he expect a child to heal the upsets of his other children? Was that really the part he wanted Spider to play? No. His son deserved to be carefree and to play around just the same as other children. He wanted that for Spider. Instead, he'd reduced the boy to the role of a therapist. 

He'd fix it. He didn't care how long it took or how many wrongs he'd uncover of his own doing from Spider's past. He'd atone for all of them. He'd love his son with his whole heart, never giving up, never letting the boy be reduced back to not being a part of this family. He'd beg and plead and then he'd prove his words with actions. 

Spider is his son.

There is guilt in the air. 

They all wait for the same thing. Still, Neytiri has not spoken. Even in the midst of their confessions, she's only offered reassurance by touch. As if shocked by the fact that she can give physical comfort again. She's still left unseen. Uncomprehended and unheard. Her hand is at the back of Jake's neck now, where she'd placed it when he'd admitted his fear of the future. Warmth radiates from her palm. It feels better than anything has for ages. The other runs through Lo'ak's hair.

"Neytiri-" Jake whispers, entangling his fingers to hers. 

"Lonely boy:" She says. Her voice merely a breath.

Jake is taken aback. He isn't sure what the right thing to say is: "Yes. He is a very lonely boy."

He can hear Neytiri shuffling. She comes to lean properly against him, her weight nearly entirely against him. He doesn't mind; in fact, he relishes it. 

"Mother you can not stay silent if you want us to See you back:" Kiri says. Her voice is a little tight. No doubt holding back some of her anger again. Speaking to her mother must be hard when her heart loves Spider so. 

Lo'ak grasps his mother's hand, the one that is still on his head; stilling it. "We are not a family if we don't know each other's hearts. We need to know yours too mother. We won't make it otherwise:" He speaks as a plea, a request so fond it's out of place on his lips. Lo'ak is undoubtedly a son who loves his mother. 

"My heart has grown too dark to speak of:" She is a wreck as soon as she lets out that first sentence. The one that admits something is wrong with her. How she wants to break everything in the Marui; to scream and smash and rip apart as if her anger is the only way out of this. She sees no end to this.

Jake wraps an arm around her: "Your heart will never be something we can't love." He puts emotion into each word, trying to get her to speak. The whole family needs it. 

Just as before she confesses: "You think I do not feel; that I sit here in silence and experience nothing, but I feel the opposite. My emotion is heightened, brought to the brink of it breaking me. I can't speak because I fear if I do I'll just scream the whole time."

"I can't touch any of you because I fear I might grab on and never let go."

"I fear I've been a terrible mother. I want to be strong again for you, but I don't know how."

"I feel ashamed all the time."

"All I do is look at you and my mind screams to help somehow; my body won't listen."

"The only time my heart feels pure is when I hear Tuk laugh. The rest of you don't laugh anymore."

"I miss my mother."

"I know you say we need to speak his name again, but I am not ready..."

By the time Neytiri stops speaking they are all gathered to sleep. The whole family a massive tangle with Tuk in the middle. Sweetness has returned to the air. Neytiri can breathe again. 

She presses a kiss to Jake's shoulder. How she craves his closeness even now that they are together.

Kiri is dozing off. Lo'ak yawns, but is still alert. He didn't want to miss a moment. 

Jake's heart is bursting. Two people are missing from the home still, but finally. Oh, Eywa finally it feels like the rest of his family has come home. Become alive again. He's holding his children and his mate and they are here in more than just body. Their spirits and minds are present, nearly tangible with how stark the difference is from now and when they sat down to eat. Neytiri has still left something unspoken he can tell. She emits a careful disposition, one that is a little guarded and closed off. He wonders if she was expecting to be yelled at. If maybe she'd wanted them to yell at her for withdrawing. As if they ever could do that. No. No one in this home was capable of hating her heart.

"I want to feel like a mother again:" It's her final reclamation of the night. Everything she says after is something they know: "I love all of you. I will do better now."

Kiri's eyes finally slip closed as her breathing grows slow with slumber. Lo'ak doesn't close his until his mother urges him to sleep. Only Jake and Neytiri are left awake, staring at each other in the darkness, eyes glowing.

They are one again.

Chapter Text

The next morning the quietness is awkward again. But it's a new type of awkwardness. The one that fills a room after you feel like you've said too much- the same one that appears after big fights too. But among it is some newfound sweetness.

Lo'ak hugs his sisters tightly right after he wakes up. Tuk runs around the Marui giggling that she was going to have her play day with Spider today. Every single time without fault Jake ruffles her hair when she runs past him. Neytiri actually smiles at her daughter's visible excitement to see the boy- her distaste for Spider is not at all visible on her face. She'd woken Jake up with a gentle kiss on his face once the first sun rays entered the home. Kiri says good morning to everyone and they all reply. Lo'ak doesn't leave the second he'd eaten breakfast, instead crossing his legs and sitting down next to Tuk to help her make a bracelet for Spider. He watches her pick nice shells and then helps with the harder knots when tying the thing together. 

Kiri watches next to them, and actually asks her brother to go swimming with her once Tuk leaves to go play with Spider. Lo'ak smiles at her gently and accepts. They agree to spend time together just the three of them till then. 

Neytiri sits down close by to weave a lid for her favorite green basket. She's not weaved in ages. Her hands never stop shaking.

Jake leans down to press a kiss on her brow. 

Things start to feel more normal. There is an unspoken thought that Neteyam should be sitting next to his mother, handing her the weaving materials as she works. She is much slower without his help. The fact that he isn't here feels irreparable. And yet- they keep going. Speaking soft words whenever one of them feels up to it.

"I need to go see Spider in a bit:" Jake speaks up, addressing everyone at once. Tuk smiles brightly, urging her father to go quickly so that they'll be done sooner. After all, Spider will be all hers for the rest of the day as soon as Jake and him are done. "Don't rush me, babygirl:" Jake chuckles, but can't fault her for her elation. It's so pure and innocent. He presses a hand down on top of her head affectionately. "There's something we need to talk about first."

"Teri peu?" /about what/ Kiri asks, reaching for the bracelet Tuk is working on to look at it closer. She likes it.

"About Spider:" He says softly, knowing Neytiri is giving him her full attention now, from how her hands pause momentarily before continuing. The rest of his family practically mimics her, all of them stopping for a moment, before looking carefully interested. He won't lie and say he isn't worried about Neytiri's reactions. But Spider has been overlooked for her sake long enough- too long. And he can't prioritize his mate over him anymore. It isn't fair, it isn't right. He wouldn't treat his other children like he'd been treating Spider just for Neytiri's sake. It was time he put his foot down and spoke openly about the fact that the boy was staying. 

"His boo-boo is worse than you said isn't it, daddy?" Tuk speaks; her voice is sad.

"Why do you say that Tuk?" Lo'ak asks, placing his hand high on his sister's back.

She shrugs and stays silent for a while. "I heard Kiri screaming at mommy about him yesterday when she came home. Kiri never yells like that:" The little girl sounds unsure when she speaks, but not about what she'd heard; about if she had the right to really mention anything about it.

"You heard that?" Kiri looks surprised, then guilty. Her gaze drifts to the ground, eyes closing with a sigh.

"Just the end of it." 

Neytiri pulls her daughter to her lap, reaching out after to grab the bracelet she'd made for Spider; to hand it to her to toy with. "I'm sorry baby:" She whispers in Tuk's ear before pressing a kiss to the side of her temple. Her eyes search for Kiri's, but her other daughter won't look back at her. 

Jake sighs. He almost couldn't believe his mate had been yelled at after the meltdown she'd had when he himself had attempted to talk about Spider. But he understands Kiri. His own mind has a hard time blaming Neytiri for anything. Most of the decisions she makes regarding the boy are obvious trauma responses. Her PTSD flaring out and making her say vile things and drive the boy away. Once or twice he's found her crying after yelling at the boy especially harsly, eyes far away and unseeing, her mind swiftly carted away to some past human-committed horror. Spider just looks too much like the people who have tormented her from birth. His sympathies are aligned with his wife's psyche. She's like the soldiers who were plagued by war back on earth. Like his own comrades in the Marines who had simply seen too much and could never go back to being what they had been. Instead of loud noises or cars backfiring her trauma was triggered by Spider. Spider moving too quickly in her peripheral vision, Spider in her home, Spider near her children.

Kiri is so much like Jake; only she sees Spider's side as well as he sees Neytiri's. Jake thinks she is ashamed of yelling at her mother now that she's heard Neytiri's confessions from last night. I feel ashamed all the time. That one was clearly a poorly veiled one about what she'd nearly done to Spider. He wonders if his daughter picked up on that as well as he did. Probably not.

"What you heard is between your mother and Kiri." Jake grasps one of Tuk's braids, and lets it slip along his fingers: "But I promise you it's not something you have to worry about."

"Kiri, you don't hate mommy now do you?" She asks, unsure, wanting more information, but also heeding her father's words about not prying into the topic of the one-sided shouting match.

Kiri takes a while to speak. Far too long for Neytiri to stay calm. Even if Jake doesn't see it he knows his mate is seconds from crying as the moment stretches. 

"No, I don't:" Kiri says, her voice curt and swift. "Jake is right, you have nothing to worry about Tuk." Gone is sempu and sa'nu from last night as once again Jake is reduced to his first name for Kiri. /dad-daddy, mom-mommy/ He can't blame her for being unable to stay neutral about Spider and what had happened. Maybe it's better that Kiri is so decidedly on the boy's side. Eywa knows he needs a gladiator to fight his battles in this family, especially now that he isn't even in the home yet. Simply Jake choosing to stand up for him now would not be enough. Kiri and his other children needed to do so too. 

"Ok-" Tuk nods, and keeps playing around with the bracelet. Jake isn't sure just how convinced his youngest is. 

"What's wrong with Spider?" Lo'ak asks, bringing the conversation back to the matter at hand. Jake had forgotten that his son was the most out of the loop on this topic. Tuk had overheard things and Kiri had been a part of healing Spider. And with no one really talking to one another till late last night he'd not been told much of anything. He looks worried, mouth very slightly open and eyes somewhat fearful even. 

"Ronal says he will be alright, but his whole body has a pretty bad sunburn. He's not fit for this environment. It's too hot, and there is too little protection from the sun. His body isn't adapting." 

"Does that mean he has to go back to the forest?" Lo'ak suddenly asks, speaking over his father in his rush to get the question out.

"NO!" Tuk yells madly.

Jake rushes to reply: "He isn't going back, ok?" He looks at his kids, trying to look sure, and strong and every other thing people associate with someone telling the truth. He hoped he was deserving enough of his children's trust that they wouldn't doubt him on this. He looks at Neytiri. She is still weaving, even slower than before. She's not speaking a word, looking as if she is zoned out of the conversation, but Jake knows it's a front. "We talked about it yesterday with your mother. Spider is staying in Awa'atlu. Right, ma yawnetu?" /my beloved/ He hopes she will agree. That part of the conversation yesterday had been rather vague and rushed, but in her own way, Neytiri had agreed.

A forced, quick nod is all he gets as a response. It's enough for him.

"See? Spider isn't going anywhere he's staying with us."

Tuk looks reassured and goes back to inspecting her bracelet. She hands it to her mother and quietly asks something about it. Neytiri answers with a lowered voice.

"If he isn't doing well in this environment then why are we keeping him here?" Lo'ak asks. His voice sounds unsure as if his mind is telling him to make a case for Spider's health while his heart doesn't want to argue about the boy staying here.

"Because he is ours:" Kiri says, beating Jake to it. She echoes the very same words he himself was going to say. His heart grows fond, he's certain all of his love for his older daughter is visible on his face at that moment. Oh, how brilliant and shining his Kiri is. 

Lo'ak looks back at her, a quick smile quirking the side of his lip. It's something Jake hasn't seen in a while. Not Lo'ak's full smile, but a first step towards one. "Isn't it still selfish of us? What does Spider want?"

Jake thinks back for a moment, trying to discern if he'd ever asked Spider if he wanted to actually be at Awa'atlu. 

"Of course he does. We're here." Tuk speaks up, entirely confident in her own words, before nuzzling against her mother's neck. Neytiri isn't as joyous about it as she would have been before, but there is effort there to be as comforting as she can be. As alike her old self as possible. 

"Alright then. What else is wrong with him?" Lo'ak asks, seemingly taking on a frank approach to the current conversation. Jake draws in a breath as Kiri looks away. Lo'ak watches her reaction and speaks again: "You have to tell me, you know that right? Spider getting sunburn isn't something Kiri would yell at mom for. I mean how would it be her fault? This is obviously about-" Lo'ak's words stutter and fall off when he looks at his little sister. He doesn't want to remind her about the boat, or about the sight of their sister and Spider under knives especially when one of them was held by their mother. 

Tuk doesn't seem to notice the conversation trailing off. Neytiri looks her son straight in the eye. Her expression has grown neutral again, not showing any signs of agitation or guilt. It's suddenly very uncomfortable in the home. 

"Spider has... Some injuries that haven't been tended to. So they've gotten worse:" Jake speaks to try and break the tension building between mother and son. 

Kiri hisses just as Lo'ak starts raising his voice: "What the hell?! Not been tended to, what the fuck does that mean?" 

Kiri gets up to pace around the mouth of the Marui, trying to make up her mind if she should leave to avoid beginning to yell again or to stay to watch her brother's reaction. She would surely feel more sated once someone else yelled at her parents just as she had done for Spider. Even seeing that Lo'ak was immediately mad seemed to soothe the part of her mind that had wondered if she'd been too harsh. Clearly, she hadn't. 

Her tail whips about like a lasso, unhappy and ruffled about the words Jake had used. They didn't place any blame when blame should be placed! How else would Spider get justice? Her eyes on occasion glare at her mother, only Neytiri has taken her wrath already, and now she prepares to take Lo'ak's. 

Tuk's attention is back on them now: "Spider is hurt and not just a little ill like you said?"

Jake tilts his head as he looks at her: "Yes, babygirl Spider is hurt. But Ronal and Kiri worked together to make him medicine that's going to heal him okay? And today when Norm comes he'll bring more."

"So he'll be alright?"

"Yes, sweetie."

"And I can still play with him today?" Her voice is unsure and a little careful. It is funny how simply children think. If Spider is well enough to play then everything surely will be alright. But if he is too hurt and tired to go picking up shells and telling her fun stories then she needs to be worried. And she doesn't want to have to worry. She'd guessed his boo-boo wasn't so simple, but to not have had any healing sounded dangerous to her little ears. 

Jake nods: "Of course prrnen'eve." /babygirl/ He gestures for Kiri to come back in, a soft pleading look in his eye. "I wouldn't tell you that you can play with Spider today if that wasn't the case."

Kiri scowls at him, hands flexing closed and uncurling open again, a repetitive, nervous pattern. She huffs and stills in her walking, but won't sit down.

"Dad what the hell?" Lo'ak repeats again. He looks confused and thunderous, a weird expression on his face since he'd been so closed off for so long. "So what? He's just been rotting off somewhere?"

Kiri approaches and lays a hand on her brother's shoulder. He places his own hand on top of hers firmly, seeking stability. Jake hates facing their ire like this. Usually, when his children were mad at him it was because they couldn't stay up late or didn't get permission to go hunting or exploring as far as they wanted to. Them being upset for something so serious that was actually all Jake's fault was a different kind of hurt. One rooted in self-disappointment. 

Jake's head slumps. "I-" 

"Pretty much:" Kiri says with a bit of venom in her voice. Her switch to English is a stark difference from the soft Na'vi language.

"Crap:" Lo'ak leans his face in his palms. "We're terrible." 

"Pretty much:" Kiri repeats.

Jake lets his son have a moment to clear his head. English comes naturally to him now too: "We just have to be more attentive and careful with him okay? Norm will bring him human clothing to cover his skin from the sun, every morning he'll go to Ronal to get the medicine reapplied. And he can't swim with it on. So no trying to get him to go swimming. No roughhousing or giving him your chores or anything stupid like that either." He looks at his children one at a time, trying to get it through that he's entirely serious. "Once he feels a little better he'll start learning the way of the water from Tonowari. So you need to take it easy with him today Tuk."

Tuk nods decidedly: "I'll be really good, and really gentle."

Jake smiles at his youngest. "I don't want any of you to feel guilty over this. Spider is my responsibility-"

"Our responsibility:" Neytiri's voice cuts like a knife through the air. She is looking at her work again, weaving diligently, but with jerkier movements now. Jake is so shocked by her proclamation he doesn't know what to say, it seems his family is the same. "You have told the Olo'eyktan he is staying with us, so you can not claim he is only your responsibility. If he does something it'll be me getting the punishment right alongside you. This is how you have worded yourself to the leaders of the clan that have given us Uturu." /sanctuary-refuge/ 

Slowly Jake's eyes close. He feels so disappointed. His mate was not claiming the boy for herself nor for their family. She was angry he'd essentially made her liable for Spider's actions after all these years that she'd been suspicious and untrusting of the boy. And she is right. That's exactly what he'd done, even if he'd asked to take the blame over her if something did end up going wrong. 

Kiri scoffs: "I have to go see the Tsahìk, I don't have time for this." She starts walking out of the home but Jake orders her to stop.

He wants to investigate what exactly his daughter is seeing Ronal for but lets it go in order to take care of the important part first: "Come back when you're done. Once I've gotten all the equipment from Norm and taught Spider how to use it I'll bring it here and then teach you too. We aren't at high camp anymore, there is no building to rush Spider into if something happens to his mask. So we need to be prepared and know how to act if it cracks or malfunctions." Kiri's disposition softens a little after this. She'd already known her father's plan, but still, it was nice to know how seriously her father was taking Spider's safety. "We all want to be able to protect him right?"

Lo'ak and Tuk nod. Kiri doesn't feel the need to. Everyone already knows how she feels about Spider. 

Kiri leaves, still upset, her tail whacks the mouth of the Marui as she goes. She yells that she'll be back soon to go swimming with her brother.

Lo'ak starts talking in a hushed tone to his father while gathering more supplies to make more jewelry. He still intends to spend the time Kiri is gone with his little sister. Their conversation is short and stern from Lo'ak's side. Jake feels like a child being reprimanded, though he sees some guilt in his son's eyes too. He doesn't doubt that the boy wishes now he would have approached Spider sooner. Now all of the boy's time for today has been promised to other people already.

As Jake leans down to press a kiss to his mate's brow with a soft goodbye Neytiri doesn't speak. She knows he's going to Spider.

Chapter Text

Spider had enjoyed a calm, quiet night. He'd started weaving a new net for the clan and gathered sticks for firewood. For the Sully's he'd fished and gathered some herbs he'd spotted just a few steps into the jungle. The whole time he'd felt kind of great. He wasn't hungry, he wasn't hurting and the cold in his chest was something he was getting steadily used to. Despite the overwhelming heaviness of the day, that night he'd managed to detach a bit from reality by focusing on the things he was using his hands for. See fish, catch it. Spot stick, pick it up. Find herb, gather it.

Work was a great distraction, and unlike some other nights, he fell asleep as soon as he'd laid down on the beach. Sleep came easy after such a tremulous day.

He woke up only once in the middle of the night to a nightmare, but after a few comforting words to the sea, he managed to rest again. 

Once Jake stepped out of his home he looked around for Spider, only to spot the boy weaving through the raised paths and away from Ronal and Tonowari's home. His skin was already glistening with a new coat of ointment and the purple paste on his chest wound definitely looked freshly applied. 

"I thought I asked you to wait for me before going to the TsahÌk?" Jake says as soon as Spider is in hearing distance. The boy looks down with an awkward look, before rubbing the back of his head. 

"She got to me first Mr. Sully. And I don't think I'm allowed to say no to the Tsahìk:" It's an explanation but given with a tone of apology. Jake doesn't need one though, he now knows firsthand how terrifying Ronal could be. He chooses to simply smile and promise to get up earlier the next day so as to not keep Ronal waiting.

"I should have guessed she'd want you there as early as possible:" His tone is light as he starts guiding Spider away. He'd dealt with the logistics with Norm last night before supper and had agreed on a meeting spot a bit off to the side from the clan's village. It made no sense to unnerve the Metkayina with Norm's arrival. He wasn't exactly wanted in the village. "How did it go with her?" 

Spider shrugs: "It went well I suppose. She didn't talk much at all, just asked about pain, how I rinsed out the old ointment, and if I slept alright." Spider fidgets a bit. His forefinger and thumb rub together, and he starts walking a step further from Jake than before. 

Jake feels pleased with the answer. Spider was freely offering information instead of giving one-word answers. It felt like a step forward. "Is there pain?" Jake asks, trying to keep his tone unpushy and somewhat nonchalant.

Spider shakes his head and replies respectfully with a negative: "None, sir."

"Good. Good..." The atmosphere is awkward, and Jake doesn't know how to break it. His hand on the boy's shoulder feels strange. He wants to keep it there and hold onto his kid, but he just feels like he's pushing into the boy's space. He drops it down to his side, but it doesn't sway with his movement like it should. Instead, it just hangs still in the gap between them. "Repeat the care instructions for me again, please?" 

"No getting it wet, keep it clean, no touching it unnecessarily, and rinse out the ointment in the mornings." Spider listed what he remembered like a machine. 

Jake of course did not need a reminder. He simply wanted to see if Spider could recall every rule; like a test to see if he'd need to check up on the wound a few times a day. He supposed Spider knew everything well enough, though he almost wished he hadn't so he'd have an excuse to check out the wound once or twice a day. "And no pressure on it right?" 

"Yes, sir." 

They walk for a while, the village gets left behind.

"I saw Kiri on my way out:" Spider says, looking at Jake a bit more carefully. He was curious why the girl had gone to the Tsahìk. She'd not looked hurt so he knew she'd not gone for healing.

"Yeah? She said she was going to see Ronal:" Jake answers casually. "Let's cut through the jungle here, Norm's landing spot isn't that far if we take a shortcut." He pulls back some dangling vines and places his other hand high on Spider's back, guiding him to pass under the low-hanging foliage. They walk side-by-side with Jake reaching out with his longer arms to push away big leaves and the like for them to get through easier. Spider could stand straight to walk under most things here, but Jake had to crouch down a bit, and utterly hated the strain it put on his back. "I think I'm getting old:" He mumbles under his breath.

"I'm sorry that she yelled at you, sir:" Spider speaks as he shifts to the side to shuffle past an especially large plant dead in the middle of the small path they were traversing. He isn't even fully sure if he's apologizing for Kiri or Ronal's yelling. "I wanted to deal with this on my own."

Jake shakes his head and Spider can almost swear he can hear the man sigh: "She had every right to. And dealing with things on our own is something this family needs to swear off." 

This family. Spider isn't a part of that so he's left rather confused and conflicted. Had something happened with the Sully's? What the hell did Jake mean? He sneaked a glance at the man walking a step ahead of him. With Jake, he always needed to account for the man's tall build; take bigger steps, and move at a more rapid pace. It didn't feel natural, but he'd gotten damn good at speed walking. Jake seemed tense this morning. His shoulders sat a little higher than normal and he kept glancing back at Spider. With each leaf he pushed aside he made the effort to ensure it wouldn't bounce back to smack Spider.

It was... Kind of nice.

Spider clears his throat.

They start hearing Norm flying overhead, and the wind is noticeably stronger from the rotor blades.

With the last of the bushes of the jungle pushed aside they step back onto the beach sand. Jake is looking up and waving at Norm with his hands. His fingers come up to press down at his throat. Spider hadn't even noticed the man was wearing a throat microphone. "It's clear to land." 

The sound gets louder as does the wind when Norm gets closer. Spider raises his hands to cover his face from the sand that kind of stings and burns as it hits against his skin. He squeezes his eyes shut, not wanting any sand in his eyes. Suddenly the feeling of the wind lessens as Jake steps closer to be between Spider and the landing chopper.

"No sand in the wound, son!" Jake has to yell over the rotor blades and engine sounds. He presses on the boy's back to make him entirely turn away. His other hand lands over the wound, cupping his palm to leave it encased within. He's terribly careful.

Spider can't help but open his eyes and look at the man. He'd not thought to cover his wound or even properly turn to give it shelter, and yet Jake had jumped to action immediately. For a second Spider could imagine that this would be what it was like to be Jake's kid. His needs seen to quickly, sheltered from things that would do him harm, having the privilege of not having to constantly think ahead because he'd have a father to do that for him. Like it had been with Quaritch. What bliss it would be to live day by day just as a normal kid, knowing food was waiting at home and he'd be greeted with a smile. 

"Kill the engine!" Jake yells once the Samson touches ground. Norm probably doesn't hear him, Jake has grown too used to Na'vi's senses to really remember human capabilities.

The rotor blades slow little by little. With no impending doom on the way, Norm is the kind of guy to wait until they are entirely still before hopping out. 

Spider straightens out, and Jake lowers his hands off of him. "Show me the wound Spider." 

Norm greets them from next to the Samson, but gets ignored in favor of Jake inspecting Spider. Spider peeks at the man from behind Jake and gives him a quick wave. It's awkward.

Norm has his head tilted a bit to the side, brows furrowed, and face confused. He seemingly chose not to intervene as Jake fretted over Spider. 

"Well, there is a little sand in it. Norm can check it out:" Jake sounds exasperated, letting out a little exhale before pressing a hand down on top of the boy's head. He doesn't smile this time. 

Norm clears his throat behind them: "Yeah don't bother saying hello to the guy who just flew multiple hours to come here." Norm is the type to always look sort of out of place. Even in the lab, he was too lanky, with jutting elbows and an awkward disposition. He was the tallest in the lab at 6'2 (188cm) and still managed to always look small; usually found holding Na'vi items that just dwarfed him. The fact that he had terrible posture and was usually standing with his face pressed to a holo screen didn't help. 

A lot of people would think he looked unkempt but Norm actually took pretty good care of his appearance. He was always shaved, brushed his hair multiple times a day, and took time picking out what to wear. He stayed true to himself and Spider respected that. He was also a fantastic speaker of Na'vi, utterly obsessed with learning the language and culture. As a xenobotanist his main research was always about one plant or another. Mo'at had actually agreed to help Norm at times though the elderly Tsahìk still found certain things to be too holy to teach in such a human way. After he'd asked her for a sample of the Tree of Souls she'd smacked him over the head with an herb ladle and not spoken to him for months. It had included a lot of groveling for him to be forgiven. 

Back then it had been entertaining to listen to Norm moan and whine that he'd done it now and lost the favor of the Tsahìk. It had been Spider to give him a hint about Mo'at's favorite fruit that only grew in the swamps; a place where Mo'at preferred not to go. All of Eywa's creation is beautiful Spider, but when it comes to the swamps my nose does not agree. Seven consecutive trips to the swamps later Mo'at forgave him. Norm reeked of the swamp for days.

For some reason, Spider was surprised to find that Norm had arrived in his Avatar. It did make sense of course since this way he wouldn't need a mask to breathe, but still, he was caught off guard. Spider felt oddly betrayed; a sensation that didn't make sense at all since Norm had only come to help. Perhaps Spider had only been wistful he'd not be the only human here for even just a few hours. 

Norm's Avatar form fits his personality better than his actual human body. He'd aged, but his Avatar had not. Of course, truthfully his Avatar body aged at the same rate as he did, but it didn't really show. Norm's Avatar looked younger than he was; like he was stuck in that awkward teenage phase between adulthood and youth. There was something distinctly human about this version of him as well. It might have been that he wore human clothing or the fact that he had bushy well-defined eyebrows. Maybe his rather dull canine teeth? Most likely a mixture of all three. 

"Sorry Norm. The Samson blew sand everywhere and it's not supposed to go into Spider's cut." Jake reaches out to slap his hand on Norm's arm a few times, a friendly gesture of greeting that Norm awkwardly reciprocated on Jake's other arm. 

Norm nods, and opens the back of the Samson: "I should have all the gear here. Sit on this Spider." He grabs a big, black storage box from the chopper and puts it on the sand, tapping it a few times to show a spot for Spider to take. "It's nice to see you Spider."

"You too Norm. Though once you're done with your mandated inspection I will still have to fight you as promised:" Spider gives the man a grin.

Norm raises his brows and hands up in a mock encouragement: "I'm right here."

Spider is practically transported back to their last interaction. Spider walking through the Avatars-only tent and Norm playfully smacking him with a towel like two dudes in a locker room. Your ass is mine; Spider had threatened playfully. They'd always had that playful kind of relationship. One built-in trust but also a level of companionship. There were things Norm could actually learn from Spider, with him having grown up so close to Na'vi and especially Na'vi children. He'd spent ages droning on about how Na'vi taught their children skills, what age you were allowed to pick up a bow; things like that when Norm would ask.

Norm would rush out after him to remind him to take a spare mask, and Spider would refuse with a funny quip. Their interactions didn't make them family, and not really friends either. They were just casually playful when they quickly came across one another. It was nice since Norm spent a bit more time on him than many others at high camp. He almost felt Seen by the man. He never did have the courage to ask if the sentiment was reciprocated though.

"No fighting:" Jake says sternly. "Norm don't encourage him. Spider needs rest and to take things easy."

Norm chuckles, digging around boxes in the Samsom for equipment: "No offense Jake but let me be the judge of that." 

Jake huffs and looks away; tail lashing. He crosses his arms over his chest and starts very softly pacing. Only a few steps one way before turning. The fact that he was uncomfortable with being idle here was visible as the sun shining on the sky. Spider simply shook his head at the display. "Did the flight go well?" Jake asks once he seems to remember the man did come here to help simply because he asked. And it was a big ask. 

"Yeah, no issues. I flew lower this time and some of the guys have been working on something for the Samson that should mess with signals. I should be semi-untrackable:" Norm speaks lightly, jostling through another box, things in it clanking together. "You can grab the two clear containers at the front Jake. Those are the mask parts for Spider."

Immediately Jake goes to open the door to the front of the Samson, he does it a bit too harshly and there is a rather audible creak. "Thanks, Norm. I feel better already." Jake picks up both boxes at once, lowering them to the beach and starting to read through an itemized list on top of both about what was in them. "Fucking hell I'd forgotten how many tiny parts there are to these things."

"Yeah, you're gonna struggle. These masks are not Na'vi-friendly. Your fingers are too big:" Norm sounds so at ease. Spider almost feels like he's back at high camp with Jake looking over equipment and Norm starting to prattle on about the logistics of how something worked.

"The filters are somewhat easy to replace but the glass is really something else. You shouldn't struggle with the straps either if those need replacing, but as soon as you have to touch any wiring you're gonna need Spider to do it or maybe Tuk. How's the family anyway?" As soon as the words are out of his mouth both men freeze. 

Spider has to watch as Jake's eyes slowly close. 

Chapter Text

Spider's eyes are nailed to the sand below while counting the darker grains he can see: eleven, twelve, thirteen...

"Oh, Jake... I'm so sorry:" Norm sounds terribly ashamed and sorrowful. Spider can't bring himself to look at him or Mr. Sully.

Jake hums sadly: "It's okay Norm. It doesn't feel real does it." He doesn't really pose it as a question based on his tone. Spider can hear the man shifting in the sand. Then gentle patting. The two men must be hugging in that weird human way that Jake does it. Hand awkwardly coming down on the other person's back or arm a few times before a hasty retreat. Human men were weird about affection. Na'vi were much more free with it among friends. This was another way Jake was set apart from the Na'vi-born people. He was more private about his emotions and reserved with his affections than others. Norm and him had a tight bond, like two opposite brothers which was probably the only reason he went for a hug now. 

"I'm sorry for your loss." Norm slips to English with this weird expression and Jake follows.

"Like I said it's ok. Early in the mornings, I forget too." It's the saddest thing Spider has ever heard the man say. His own heart feels like it's suddenly thudding too strongly like it's trying to kill him with grief.

Jake must have told Norm over comms... "Does Mo'at know?" Spider can't keep himself from asking the question. He feels like he needs to know. Mo'at doesn't deserve the pain of losing a grandchild or really anyone so far into her life. The order of things was all messed up now. But not even knowing Neteyam was gone, seemed like an ever worse fate for the woman. If she did not know, she could not grieve.

"I told her... So she knows:" Norm speaks softly- his voice breaks mid-sentence. "She already knew though. Somehow. Had a gut feeling I guess."

Spider shakes his head, he still doesn't understand how Norm could not see the bigger picture: "She is Tsahìk. Eywa told her."

Both Jake and Norm fall silent. Spider begins counting again: twenty-two, twenty-three...

Spider has both his arms crossed over his chest and holding onto the opposing shoulders. It's a bit cold here now that the top layer of the sand has been swept up. "Can't she come here? She should be with family, no?" Spider asks the question so quietly he isn't sure if he'd even heard. It's not his place to make suggestions like that and he knows it, but he can only imagine the grief the old woman feels now, and how much of a comfort her family would be for her. She needed them and Spider could bet they needed her too. 

"Mo'at would never leave the forest:" Jake speaks as if it's something he's said before.

"Actually:" Norm butts in. "She did ask to come with me now. I had to practically pry her off of the Samson. Well that sounds wrong- I more like talked her out of going while carefully trying to help her out of it as she beat me with a stick. Honestly, I would have let her come but I couldn't connect to your comm so I didn't know what you thought of it and-" Ididn'tknowifitwassafeor-" Norm begins to ramble in the fashion that is very much a part of him. He was always nervous around Mo'at and even when speaking about her. Spider did not doubt that it had been very hard for Norm to tell her no. It was quite funny how eager he was for her to accept him, and they did have a strange type of- friendship. Amiability? Concord?

Jake lets out a sigh: "Calm down Norm."

"Sorry."

"Listen you were right to not take her with you. The Omatikaya need her as Tsahìk, and it does seem she will be safer there than here." Spider can hear Jake pick up another box and put it on the ground. "I'll- I'll talk to Neytiri about it and let you know how she feels about Mo'at coming here. I know she misses her mother." Jake sounds kind of defeated and tired. In disbelief maybe? 

Spider must admit the idea of Mo'at leaving the forest felt inherently wrong. He doesn't even know if she's ever left it since her birth. She knew every inch of it and seemed more in tune with it than anyone else. She was a magnificent Tsahìk and leaving the new hometree to hide away at high camp had been a hardship for her. 

"So... When I go back what should I tell her?" 

Jake mumbles something Spider doesn't hear. "Just- let her know we'll be in contact and let her know if it's safe. If she comes here I don't think she can go back home till this is all over. If she knows where we are she will be an even bigger target. The woods would not be safe for her anymore. A Tsahìk can not be away from home for so long." 

"Do you think the Omatikaya would appoint another Tsahìk if she left?" Norm asks carefully, a worry in his voice. No one wanted a repeat of Jake being stripped of his title as Olo'eyktan, even if it had been the right choice to make. 

Jake thinks a moment: "I don't think they'd have a choice." 

All three of them just stay quiet. Spider begins to rub his fingers together, counting grains of sand now forgotten. All in all, having Mo'at come here seems like a terrible choice, but maybe it would be worth it for the comfort of having their family reunited again. With Jake not having any family on Pandora or on earth by his words, the Sully family was small. Mo'at and Neteyam were the only ones missing now. One could not be brought back, but the other was only a few hours flight away. And Spider had to admit, he wanted to see Mo'at again too.

Fabric rustles as Norm rubs his gloved hands together. He begins offloading the Samson with Jake. 

"Can I ask... About Neteyam?" Norm's words make Spider's gut twist again. 

Jake sounds a bit angry when he replies, vexed as he sets another box to the ground with unnecessary force. The sand flies and covers one of Spider's feet. "I thought I told you everything pertinent already?"

"No, no it's not about how- well... It's just that Mo'at asked if he was buried here." The man sounds apologetic and nervous: "I don't know how to comfort her, I'd like to be able to answer her one question at least."

Spider finally looks at Jake. The man is still now. One hand leaning on the Samson, the other in the middle of grabbing more equipment. Spider can't see the expression on his face with how his dreads cover it. One of his arms tremors. "Ah, yes. We buried him here in the sea. At the Cove of the Ancestors. There is an underwater Tree of Souls there. The Metkayina call them Spirit trees." The man overexplains, maybe as a way to not have to think about the painful day too much. "His funeral was beautiful."

Beautiful. Not the word Spider would use. Gut-wrenching, agonizing, and unendurable seemed like better words. How could the burial of a child be beautiful? Maybe it alleviated Jake's hurt to think he'd laid his son to rest in grace in a place that looked peaceful. That the rites had been a wonder to view. Maybe it cast the memory of having to do it in the first place in a golden shimmer. Spider couldn't be sure. 

Jake seemed to be giving himself a moment, leaning heavily to the aircraft, before he got back to work. Norm kept moving stiffly; socially inept to deal with the situation. 

They didn't speak about Neteyam again.

"Well, then Spider! I think everything that's staying here and all the medical supplies are laid out now. So let's see that wound." The man pulled off his gloves and turned to the boy, gently smiling and then placing his hands on his hips. "Good grief you're small:" Norm chuckled, teasing the boy like he always did when in his Avatar form. "You look like a six-year-old."

Spider rolls his eyes, and takes the bait: "I'm nearly as tall as you in human form, dipshit. So if I look like a six-year-old then you look seven at most." 

"I don't think you're making the case you think you are Spider:" Jake starts with his voice light. "Norm stresses about everything so much that he looks like he's in his sixties in human form."

Spider snorts and Norm acts offended. He tries to make a case for himself but none of his quips really land.

"Ugh fine, you two win this one. Hop off of that Spider, you clearly need a taller booster seat." Finally, Norm makes a joke that actually has Jake smirking.

Spider slaps Norm's hand away as the man tries to help him off of the box: "I do not need a booster seat." He hops down from the box and scoffs with his arms crossed as Norm puts an identical box on top of the old one. "This is ridiculous:" Spider mumbles under his breath.

"Okay hop back up."

Spider has no time to do as Norm tells him before Jake has swept him up from under his armpits and lifted him to sit on the now taller box set. "Hey no-" Spider goes to yell at Jake for manhandling him, but when he looks Jake in the face and sees him look blissful for once, he snaps his mouth shut. The look on Jake's face wavers when the boy goes silent. Had he been goading him? Spider knows he has no right to yell at Jake anyway.

Jake kind of just stays standing there, still holding on once Spider is securely seated on the boxes. They are face to face now in height. Jake reaches out to push Spider's dreads behind his shoulders and out of the way. He lifts a hand to Spider's cheek and swipes a thumb over his brow.

Spider looks away awkwardly. 

It appears he isn't the only one who notices something is strange with Jake: "Umm, Jake you're kind of in the way." 

The man looks surprised to hear Norm and clears his throat as he moves out of the way. 

"Le't see what's- Yuck! What the heck you said it was a small cut that wasn't healing, Jake! Doesn't look small to me this spans his whole chest!" Norm looks disgusted, and a little angry too, as he pushes Spider's chin up to get as much space to look at the wound as possible. "How did I not notice this till now? It's thick as two fingers!" Then he groans and adds: "I should have brought more stuff."

"More? You've basically brought the whole lab with you-"

"All I said was that it started as a small cut that got worse and needed more than Na'vi healing."

Both Spider and Jake are speaking on top of one another, a jumble of words that made just about zero sense to Norm. The man waved them both off and sighed. "Must be really hurting, huh kiddo?" Kiddo. Norm rarely used that word. It had faded with time as Spider grew and was now reserved only when Norm was preparing to pry for information. 

"It looks worse than it is:" Spider speaks and shrugs his shoulders. He sees Jake's eyes tighten as the man leans against the Samson again. He is looking at the two of them with open interest.

Norm starts muttering something as he starts inspecting the wound. He isn't touching it at all yet but presses down on the skin next to it a few times to test something. "Your skin doesn't look too good either. Good thing I brought tons of clothes."

"I'll make sure he's covered up all the time." 

"Yeah, that'd be best Jake. I also can't see enough from behind this purple stuff. What is this a mix of?" Norm grabs a petri dish and swipes up a bit of the ointment onto it. He also takes two glass slides and presses some of the balm between them. 

Jake says he really has no clue: "Ronal refused to tell, but Kiri helped make it so she should be able to give an itemized list if you want it later." 

"I'd appreciate it, I can test it in the lab too. Spider are you ok with me washing this off for now so that I can actually see the wound?" Spider nodded his reply to Norm and dutifully leaned forward as Norm picked up a bottle of clean water and began to flush the wound clean. It burned a bit, just as it had that morning. Spider hated the sensation of the ointment running down his body with the water, but the cold feeling wasn't as bad once the balm was gone. Norm did a really thorough job, so by the end, he was soaked from chest to toes. 

Norm's eyes darkened as he saw more. "This looks really bad, Jake. I mean it's not going to kill him, but he'll have a tough recovery. How the hell did it get this bad?" The man shakes his head in aggravation, giving Jake only a momentary glance before he gets to work. Norm almost never cussed. 

"It was my fault-" Spider tries to take the blame, but Jake raises a hand to tell him to fall quiet. He obeys as always. 

"I overlooked it. I overlooked him. It's entirely on me, Norm." Spider looks at Jake as he speaks. He can't hold Jake's intense gaze for long so he starts staring at the top of Norm's head instead.

Norm was such an admirable person and Spider had always liked him. He was a bit physically and socially clumsy, but he seemed set on himself. He knew who he was, and what he wanted and was so content with his life. He was always learning more, highly regarded by the Omatikaya, and worked wonderfully as a bridge between Na'vi and humans once Jake became more Na'vi than human. Once Norm had told Spider he'd been terribly jealous of Jake early on and had made himself not like him, but their friendship became strong despite that. Spider was sure there had been a lesson to learn in that story somewhere. 

A lot of people might expect Norm to be a total nerd, but he was actually quite confident and witty. He was fun and excitable with a youthful energy. And he could step up to Jake if he felt the need; he'd rarely do it since he preferred to be respectful.

"Well, it's not a small thing to miss." There was a bite in Norm's words. He went quiet when he saw the pleading look in Spider's eye. An unspoken conversation passed between them.

"I know..." Jake keeps staring at Spider, but the boy won't look at him back.

For a straight ten minutes, no one speaks. Spider goes back to counting. He can't distinguish singular grains of sand anymore so he first counts boulders on the beach, then specific types of trees, then the clouds he can see. But clouds tend to blend all together so he ends up giving up and staring at the sea instead. The waves are especially frothy today. They hit the sand in intervals. The sun glistens so brightly on the horizon that it almost hurts to look at the sea. Practically the whole surface of it gleams white.

It kind of looks like the tide is coming in. Even though it was midday- and the tide shouldn't be starting anywhere near now... The sea kept hurling at the shore, seemingly closer with each wave, climbing up the beach and nearing at a speed Spider had never seen before. He tilted his head at the sight and wondered if he should bring it up.

"Okay. So. The wound definitely has a mild infection going on so you'll need antibiotics. We can do both digestible pills and an antibiotic cream. That part sound good to you?" Norm starts rifling through one of the boxes, moving stuff aside as he'd done a lot these past few minutes. "

"Yeah, that's fine. I don't think the Tsahìk is going to like the cream though." Spider isn't keen on doing any other ointments than the one Ronal had made. She had gone to an awful lot of trouble, and pissing off the Tsahìk was not something he wanted to do.

"Well, we can just do it for today now that we've washed the other medicine off:" Norm twirls back around once again with something in his hands. He uses the thing to scan Spider's wound and then starts tapping away with a handheld holo screen device. 

"The wound looks like it's been reinjured at some point with these little scars going up. They've healed great so we don't have to worry about them. The fact that the scabbing isn't consistent shows that there has been stress on the wound and it's really slowed down the healing process. Anything you wanna share Spider?" Norm speaks with his tone open. He glances up from his screen to Spider with a thoughtful expression.

"Nope. Nothing." 

"Hmm... Jake, he isn't even in the fibroblastic stage yet. At least not consistently through the wound which is... A little weird. I thought you said this was from the battle?" 

"English, please:" Jake groans and Spider knows he isn't speaking about the language, but complaining about not understanding that weird fibre-something word. "And yes it's from the battle, what of it?" 

Norm frowns and taps away at his datapad that he'd placed on the side. "It's a few weeks from the battle now so the healing of the wound isn't just abnormally slow it's almost entirely stilled. Proper scabbing, collagen production, and capillary growth have barely happened."

Jake throws him a proper glare now. He doesn't understand.

"What I'm saying is. The things that Spider's body should have been doing to heal the wound haven't happened."

"Why?" Jake asks, pushing himself off of the Samson now to walk the few steps closer to look at the wound himself. He places a hand on Spider's knee and squeezes it reassuringly. "Is he sick?" 

Spider would like to know that too. He's frowning, looking down at the wound in its full disgusting glory, it still looks the same as before. Jake once again swipes Spider's dreadlocks behind his back. He grabs them and holds them off of his skin. 

"No clue. I need to do more scans. Spider, back straight, please." Norm picks up his scanner thing again and starts moving it strangely over Spider's head, gut, chest, and legs. Just all over as it beeps and shows a green light every time before the man moves it to a new area. He doesn't actually need to touch Spider for this, since the device can be hovered over skin and it'll still work just fine. 

Jake looks worried now. Increasingly so as Norm takes more and more scans. Once Norm has scanned almost the entirety of one of Spider's arms Jake moves to that side and takes the boy's hand in his. He squeezes tightly and then lowers his chin over the boy's head. Spider can hear him let out a sigh above him, and wants to move away. He doesn't when he notices some tension leave the man. 

Norm gives Spider a look. One full of questions, but Spider says nothing.

Jake speaks something from above him, but Spider doesn't hear him. The only reason he knows the man is even speaking is because he can feel the man's jaw moving on top of his head.

Some minutes later Norm sets the scanner down and starts transferring data from it to his handheld holoscreen. 

"What's wrong with him?" Jake asks in a strained way. 

Norm doesn't answer straight away, he keeps tapping and then looks up: "It's gonna take a bit for this to go through all the data and scans, I can't tell you everything at once, you have to stay patient Jake." 

Jake scoffs, visibly annoyed: "Is there anything you can tell me now?" 

Norm looks away and then back at Spider's chest: "Well he's got a bit of necrosis going on. That's what I'm most worried about. It needs to be cut off." 

"Cut off? What the hell do you mean? You're not hacking away at my kid!" Jake lifts his chin off of Spider's head and then grabs onto his arm, pulling him a bit further back on the box and toward himself. 

"Whoa, whoa no one said anything about hacking away at... Spider." Norm seems visibly uncomfortable, trying to alleviate the tension in the air. He shuffles on his feet turns then puts on a pair of blue gloves. "Look here, Jake." He starts pointing at the edge of the scar in two different places. "See here? The purple and black bits of skin are dead or dying. Now it's a veeeery tiny area, but the thing with necrosis is that it can spread in mere hours. Can you feel this at all Spider?" Norm runs the tips of his fingers on the spot of the scar that's gone dark. Spider shakes his head as a no. "Necrosis is dying body tissue and it can not be cured. The good thing is it's still a bit purple so it's not all the way gone, but it needs to be removed. Necrosis can cause issues with organs, and loss of limbs though that's not possible here really since it's on your chest. But the chest is a very vital part of the body, and we can't just leave dying skin on him." 

Jake swallows. He appears so devastated. "I..."

"The good thing is we've caught it early. It's just a small sliver of skin that I can scalpel off and then we just worry about his recovery. But this could have ended a lot worse, you know that right? I don't mean to press blame-" 

"Maybe you should:" Jake's voice is nearly unrecognizable. It's infuriating to Spider.

He almost glares at Mr. Sully but catches himself before he can actually do it.

"Jake..."

"I think we should focus on the matter at hand:" Spider speaks for the first time in a while. Getting them off of the topic of whose fault this is more important than trying to avoid being the center of attention right now. And he really didn't want to listen to Jake be all self-sacrificial again. Norm stares at Spider, and it's very obvious the man burns with questions.

"Sure thing kiddo:" He simply ends up saying, before he checks out the feedback on the scans again.

Spides shuffles on the box, looking at the sea once again. He can feel Jake's hand tighten on his arm. The sea seems to still be coming towards them. Actually, Spider is now noticing that the edge of the sea that is pulling inland seems to be just the area nearest to them. The rest of the shoreline is further back where it should be at this time of day. It's like that little bit of the ocean is having harsh tidal waves, trying to lengthen the reach of the sea. Each wave coming closer than the one before. 

"He's got a bit of ice burn going on too. Around the center of the wound. I don't really understand what could have caused it. It's so warm here." 

"Ice burn? How is that possible?" Jake asks, confused as he reaches out a hand for the datapad. Norm extends it out to him so Jake can take a look at the scans of the wound himself.

"What is an ice burn?" Spider asks. "I thought I was sunburnt?" 

Norm starts rummaging through his things again. Something is beeping in one of the containers. "You are. But you're also ice burnt. Somehow even though one negates the other. Ice burn is what happens when skin is exposed to something very cold for an extended period of time. Some people call it freezer burn as well. Basically, if you were to hold a block of ice for a while you'd get ice burn. You wouldn't have happened to find some phenomenal ice lake or something here, Spider?" 

"Norm I can't even find cold water to drink here. How would I have found ice?" 

"Spider don't be glib:" Jake orders as he scrolls through information on the data pad.

"Sorry Mr. Sully."

They all fall silent. 

"What are all these weird colors on the brain scan, Norm?" 

Chapter Text

"Oh wow. Well... Umm. I don't- That's. That's not right." A dozen emotions flash on Norm's face as he zooms in on different parts of the brain scan. He settles for a concerned frown, before glancing at Spider.

"Not right?" Jake's voice is so sharp it could cut through bone. "What the hell. do you mean. with not. right?" Spider can see the man take deep breaths, the words come out between his teeth as his jaw is stiff with his teeth pressed together. 

"I mean this scan is not right. It looks kinda- Well I don't know. Incorrect. Let me do the scan again." 

"You better." With how dark Jake's tone goes Norm throws him a nervous glance. Spider just watches on in confusion. He'd tried not to move during the scans, but maybe he had. It would explain the scan going wrong. Norm practically repeats back his own guess as he starts taking the scan around his head again. He reiterates that Spider shouldn't move at all a few times.

Jake's hands come to rest on his shoulders. He stands behind Spider and one of his thumbs swipes back and forth frantically over Spider's back. Spider wants to move away. Mainly because he is fighting very hard not to lean onto that touch, this wasn't something he could afford to get used to. Why is Jake being so strangely nurturing? Why wouldn't he stop touching him? Had the man forgotten about personal space all of a sudden? 

Spider refocuses on the sound of the sea. The wind blows audibly today and the two sounds are hard to separate. They seem merged together almost. Like the blending of two different colors of sand. 

Spider isn't worried about the scan, but based on the fact that the man's frustration rises every second, Jake is. "So he just moved during the scan?" Jake asks again because Norm refuses to give a straight answer. 

"Maybe. Or maybe I had the scanner pointed at me for an image or two:" Norm mumbles, as the scanner machine begins to import data into the holo screen slowly. Norm doesn't make mistakes like that though. It feels like an age before an image begins to form on the blue screen. 

Jake shakes his head in frustration and leans more towards Spider. One of his arms wraps around the boy and once again drags him further on the box so that he can lean against Jake. His other hand begins to pet his head, on top of the dreads. His palm is terribly warm, but it doesn't feel good on top of the matting hair. Every movement pulls at it a bit too much to feel good. It's tolerable at best. 

Norm leaves the handheld scanner on a box and turns to Spider: "How have you been feeling? Any weird new sensations? Balance issues?" 

"No. None." 

"Spider be honest with your answers. It's an order:" Jake speaks sternly, pausing his petting for only a moment before continuing. 

Spider cranes his neck to look at the man: "I'm being honest I swear."

They stare at each other long enough for it to be a little uncomfortable. Spider isn't used to being the center of Jake's attention, especially to this level. Even during their last talk, Jake had often referred to his own children and how Spider had worried them. That conversation had not been just about Spider or his health. Unlike now. Suddenly it was like Spider was all that mattered. Jake looked at him with his eyes wide and worried, so utterly devoted it could almost fool Spider into believing that he truly mattered. The way that the Sully kids did. That wasn't his fate though, so he tore his gaze away to find Norm looking at the new brain scans with a rising look of confusion. He can kind of spot that more images keep slowly popping up. The data transfer isn't done. 

"Have you hit your head recently?" The man asks, scrolling through the scans to look at Spider's brain from all angles. 

"No."

"Why are you asking that?!" A growl. A clear sign of concern. Asking if Spider hit his head acknowledges something might be wrong. That there are signs that require that question to be asked. Jake doesn't like the thought. 

Norm casts another worried look at Jake: "Listen Jake just try to be a bit calmer okay? This really could be nothing." 

"It's never nothing with my kids." 

Spider sinks in on himself. He doesn't want to listen anymore. He briefly considered hopping off the box, saying he felt fine and walking away. But with how tight the arm around him was now he wouldn't get far. He doubted Jake would even let his feet touch the ground. Kid. Oh Eywa, he wants to cry.

Spider starts counting trees. Sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen-

"While the data transfers let's do a few tests shall we Spider?" Norm's voice is relaxed and slightly more high-pitched. It's his 'doctor' voice. The one he uses when examining people and trying to keep them calm and stress-free. "If you could take a step back Jake."

Jake does, but he keeps a hand on Spider's back. Norm switches out his blue gloves for a new pair.

"We've missed your annual physical so we might as well do it now while we wait. Let's ignore the wound for this since that's its own thing. Right?" 

Spider replies to Norm with a nod. 

"You know how this goes. We've done this plenty of times in the past." Norm starts with the basic questions: how is your diet and are you eating regularly, are you exercising enough? They all chuckle at that. It's a stupid earthly question. Exercise was just a simple part of life on Pandora. The tension in the air clears a bit. How are you sleeping, how are you spending your days, how are you feeling overall; do you have muscle aches or other pain, how is your mental health? Have you been experiencing sudden mood changes? Have you been sick recently, do you have injuries besides the chest wound? How did you get these bruises, how has your breathing been, have you noticed anything concerning?

Spider answers honestly when he can, and lies through his teeth when he can't. He is eating a varied diet and at fair intervals. He is sleeping just fine, he feels in good health. He has no muscle pain, his mental health is fine, he hasn't been sick at all. Lies, lies, lies. One after another the answers leave him rather automatically. He ignores the fact that he feels guilty for distorting the truth. He knows he is convincing. It isn't his first time at the rodeo. 

"Straighten your back, Spider." 

After his questions, Norm listens to his heart and lungs. He draws some blood for testing. He checks his blood pressure and temperature. Spider has to hold his breath as the mask is taken off so that Norm can look at his throat and have him say aaaah. The man checks his ears quickly, and it kind of feels like he is rushing for something else. He even skips the abdominal exam entirely. 

He pulls out a little flashlight and shines it in his eyes. "Can you smile for me? Can you puff out your cheeks?" Spider does. "Can you do a big frown?" Spider obeys. He wonders if this is Norm's bad try at making him laugh or something like they do to kids when they want a good picture. "Turn your head to the side, just like that good job. Then the other side, thank you Spider." He asks Spider to stick out his tongue and repeat the side-to-side movement with it. It does actually make Spider chuckle, and Norm smiles at him softly. 

Jake finally backs away and starts rifling through a box. Spider notices that he assembles the three main parts of a mask together and then places it on the box next to Spider. Jake keeps throwing worried glances at the datapad and handheld holo screen behind Norm where new pictures keep popping up every few minutes. At least he thinks they're pictures. Some of them are in black and white, others are bright and colorful. They just look like those images of space. Colors blended with one another, not making any sense. Spider can't even tell the outlines of whatever moves on the screen.

"Spider, straighten your back, ok?" 

Norm ignores Jake's little search through different boxes and just keeps going on with the examination. Even when the man moves on to one behind Norm and his tail starts hitting boxes; a clear sign of agitation and unease. "Let's test your hearing. I'll cover one ear and then whisper numbers in the other. Just tell me the numbers I've said." Norm gives the instructions and then moves closer. He presses his hand over Spider's left ear and then whispers the numbers four, two, sixteen, and fifty-five.

"Four, two, sixteen, fifty:" Spider repeats.

"Okay and then the other ear." Norm switches hands covering the other ear and then whispers: "Ten, a hundred and two, thirty-five, eleven."

"Ten, a hundred two, thirty-five, eleven."

"Good job:" Norm pulls away and then for the third time he repeats: "Keep your back straight. Just try to not slouch okay, I want your full attention." 

Once again Spider sits up properly. He's not even noticed that he keeps slumping his shoulders and curving his back. He wants to be easy to examine. Norm's done this whole show so many times, a minimum of once a year from as soon as he'd been born. There probably had been people who were more educated on annual check-ups than Norm, but Spider had had a preference for this particular scientist since childhood. Well, him or Max. 

Norm grabs some tiny tools and moves too fast back around for Spider to make out what he's holding. "So I've got two little items here, one of them is very dull and the other slightly sharp. I'm going to touch these around your face and body and you tell me if you feel the sharp object or the dull one." Norm shows the objects to Spider. One of them is like a big needle, though it isn't thin nor sharp enough to pierce skin, and the other is a stick with a white cotton ball at the end. "Do you understand the instructions?" 

"Mhm:" Spider agrees and sits up straighter again. He closes his eyes so he won't see which object is being used. The last thing he sees before his eyes close is Norm straight ahead of him, and Jake standing tall behind the man, a shocked look on his face, eyes glued to Spider. Closing his eyes from that almost hurt gaze in the man's eyes is a relief. 

"Sharp or dull?" Norm asks and brushes one of the tools to Spider's cheek. It's not with great pressure or anything, just strong enough to feel the item.

"Sharp:" Spider answers.

"Sharp or dull?" This time the item touches his forehead. It kind of tickles.

"Dull."

"Good job Spider. Sharp or dull?" Norm praises for such little things.

"Dull."

"Sharp or dull?" 

"Trick question you didn't touch me."

Silence, then Spider feels sharpness on his upper arm.

"Nice job. Sharp or dull?"

"Sharp."

"Sharp or dull?" The sensation is right under his eye.

"Sharp:" Spider speaks. Repeating the same two English words so many times makes them sound funny.

"What about here?"

"Sharp:" He tremors.

"Here?" 

"I don't feel anything." The answer feels wrong in his mouth.

"You're doing well. Sharp or dull?" The soft cotton ball runs along the bottom of his foot and Spider jerks it away with a giggle.

"Dull! Dull! Stop you jackass!" Spider has to kick Norm's arm lightly when the man snorts in amusement to make him stop. "Are you just doing this to bully me?" 

"No this is a real exam." 

"Well, you've never done this shit before:" Spider doesn't let himself sound annoyed, even though he is. None of this weird new stuff felt like real exams. What did moving his face to different expressions, being tickled, and repeating basic numbers accomplish? Seems more like something kindergartners would be told to do to amuse them for a moment. 

"Okay, we can stop with this one, keep your eyes closed though:" Norm puts away his two little instruments, and they clink down onto something metallic. "Put your hands up in front of your face, palms facing me please Spider." 

Spider lifts his hands as he's told. He keeps his eyes shut. 

"Now touch your index fingers to your thumbs. Yes good just like that. Then your middle fingers to your thumbs, good, good. You're seeing the pattern so keep following it. Ring finger next, then your pinky. Good job. Can you repeat your ring finger, please? Once more, try to really touch the tip of your thumb with it." 

"I am touching the tip of my thumb, Norm:" Spider huffs.

Norm doesn't reply, simply goes back to giving instructions: "Do all of them once in the same order with a bit more speed." Norm gives new instructions as soon as Spider has done as ordered. This strange test feels just as stupid as the last one. "Put down your right hand and just do your left hand now..." Spider does and Norm goes quiet. The silence is still for a bit "Once more." Spider obeys, one finger at a time, palm facing Norm at his eye level. He still hasn't opened his eyes. "Do your ring finger one more time, then the pinky." 

Spider does and then lowers his hands, pressing them to his knees. He's terribly bored. 

"Spider can you straighten your arms to your sides, and then one arm at a time bring your index finger to touch your nose before straightening your arms out again?" 

This is so stupid. Spider can't help but think he must look like an idiot. He isn't exactly sure if Norm is just pulling his leg. It would be very much something he'd do. Spider almost groans at the recognition that this is just some stupid prank. He rolls his eyes behind his eyelids and does as he's told. Arms out, one hand bending to touch his nose with his index finger. Right hand first, then the left. With the left hand, he ends up poking himself in the eye and winces at the sensation. "Ugh, this is stupid Norm. Stop pranking me."

He lowers his arms down, frustration flaring, he feels like he needs to blink the eye he poked, but he obediently keeps it closed anyway.

The silence is eerie. It's actually so quiet Spider isn't sure if Norm is even still in front of him. 

A touch comes at the top of Spider's back. "Do you feel this here?" 

"Yes." 

"Where am I touching you?" 

"Between my shoulder blades." 

Norm is quiet. Spider doesn't like it. The fingers trail up. "Where am I touching now?" 

"At the base of my neck:" Spider answers. That's where he feels Norm's fingers. They're cold now. He doesn't like it and wants to shake the hand off.

The fingers trail up and then the sensation dissipates: "And now?" 

"You took your hand off:" Spider answers clearly. For an unknown reason, he feels the need to reiterate: "You aren't touching me anymore." 

"Straighten your back, Spider:" The order comes from Norm for the fourth time as a mere whisper.

A shiver runs up Spider's back as he obeys. 

"Touch the tips of your fingers together."

Spider brings his two hands together, but his left fingertips end up pressed to his palm for some reason. He slides them up his fingers so his fingertips rest against one another as ordered. 

"Use your left palm to cup your right elbow:" The order is just as weird as the last one. For some reason, Spider feels like he really needs to do it. 

He cups his palm and goes to move it to his elbow. He cups air first, before ending up with his palm to his lower arm. He shuffles it up to his elbow.

Spider swallows. Something feels really weird. He can't hear Norm breathe anymore, and for the first time in days, he is very aware of the sound of his mask breathing. It's a grating sound in the otherwise silent atmosphere. When he notices he's slumped over again, Spider bolts up to sit properly.

The box feels too hard under him. Suddenly it's uncomfortable to sit here like this. Or maybe he just feels uncomfortable in general. Maybe a cloud moves aside, because suddenly there is direct sunlight on his eyelids, and he can see them orange, his vision no longer dark even with his eyes closed.

"Do you feel this? Here?" Norm asks. His voice is terribly quiet now. Spider has to strain himself to hear even though Norm has leaned in now, and his head is near directly above him.

"You aren't touching me, Norm:" Spider's voice doesn't have the annoyed, playful edge to it anymore. The moment doesn't feel right, it's creepy and he feels so unnerved. 

"What about here; do you feel this?" 

"Stop it, Norm, this isn't funny. I already said you aren't touching me:" Spider's voice is pleading now. He doesn't even want to open his eyes anymore. There's this sensation at the back of his brain that thinks if he opens his eyes everything will go to hell. That foreboding sense of doom. That jerk in your gut when you fall off of a tree, or the quick flash of fear when you trip, right before you impact the ground. 

"I am Spider. On two different places." Norm sounds kind of... Kind of...

Spider says nothing. The only thing he feels is the wind blowing at his skin, and his dreads hanging down his back. His own fingers clenched at his knees. 

"Straighten your back, Spider..."

"I am sitting straight!" Now he's just frustrated and scared. 

Another shiver passed through his curved spine. 

Spider freezes.

Jake speaks for the first time in an age. The words seem foreign and unreal to Spider. The second he hears them he wishes he wouldn't have.

"He has brain damage."

Chapter Text

Everything is a bit of a blur. Spider keeps laughing under his breath, but the sound is hollow and dead. Even to his own ears, it sounds creepy. Like he's a boy possessed; unable to stop or really control his own body. 

His nails dig into the skin around his knees where his palms are still pressed. Nothing makes sense, and yet everything makes sense. A near-constant tremor keeps running down his body, it feels uncomfortable.

Someone is yelling, but he refuses to properly acknowledge it. He can see Norm's feet clad in those massive tan boots he always wears in avatar form; laces tied up perfectly. Norm keeps moving back and forth, taking little steps as if he can't quite stand still. This is hilarious. A joke. It must be. Brain damage? Hah! Not likely. Or maybe... A punishment.

His chest is tight. The horror of his new reality as something truly broken is still settling in. Disbelief colors its corners a bright green, like the warning exit sign above a door. 

"Jake just-" Norm is speaking but keeps interrupting himself trying to choose what to say. 

"I was paraplegic for years, I know what a goddamn cranial nerve exam looks like Norm!" Jake shouts. It's the first full sentence Spider hears now but he doesn't understand what the man is saying. His shoulders still shake as he laughs, staring down at the sand. 

There's dirt on one of Norm's boots. He wants to wipe it off, but he isn't even sure he'd be able to stay standing up if he hopped off of the box.

"Me doing the exam doesn't mean he has brain damage, it's a pretty routine exam, Jake!" Norm shouts over the man. His voice is overly light like he's lying. Because he is. Spider can tell from Norm's tone. He'd always been a horrid liar; he got all squirmy and uncomfortable when he had to tell a fib, and it always told on him. If he were a gambling man he'd be poor as a rat. Very unlike Spider who'd mastered the art of deception from a young age. 

"But you're not doing it as a routine exam, you're doing it under the context of his brain scans being weird! And he's failing them-" Jake's voice breaks down at the end. He gasps for air like a starving man. Spider can hear it as if the man was panting right next to him. "He's failing them... Oh god." 

Oh god. Spider hasn't heard Jake say that ever. Some of the humans and scientists back at High Camp and Hell's Gate would use the expression, but Jake never did. Jake Sully is not a Godly man, someone had once told him. 

Spider knew failure. He'd been so accustomed to it since he could remember. Too slow to keep up with Na'vi. Too short to be seen as normal. Not skilled enough to be seen as a proper warrior. Many of his defeats were due to him being a human. He was biologically at a disadvantage to the people who belonged on this planet. Couldn't even breathe the air! He always knew when he'd failed. It was a hit on his heart each time, another knock at his confidence. He'd mourn the discovery of a new weakness or let down within himself. Now he hadn't even known he'd failed. How had he failed? What were these tests trying to see? Could he cover up the fact that he'd not done them right? 

They might back off if he managed that.

He just needed a good enough lie. But how could he cheat his way out of this one if his brain was too fried to be able to tell what he'd even done poorly on? Clearly, something was amiss with his sense of touch. And he was slouching again. Had he been doing that this whole time? Spider straightens his back and with it, his line of sight rises. 

The two men are still fighting. Or more like Jake is arguing with Norm as he fights his own demons, while Norm looks rather freaked out as he attempts to help.

And Spider just sits there. 

"Cranial nerve exam tests for nerve damage-"

"Oh yeah because that's so much better than brain damage! Nerve damage is what made me unable to walk Norm! I don't want that for Spider." Jake speaks with a rushed voice. He sounds panicked to the core. The man is standing with his hands dug into his dreads, clutching at his own head, looking unsure of what to do.

Was that possible? Could Spider lose his ability to walk due to this and end up in one of those chairs that Jake had been in? Would he use Jake's old chair, which was tucked aside in a corner of High Camp? They'd never let him leave the labs again, and even there all of the rooms wouldn't be traversable with the wheelchair. 

"Brain and nerve damage are the same thing technically in this case:" Norm mumbles under his breath, unable to keep the scientist part of him from correcting Jake's mistake. "Calm down Jake we don't know anything yet."

"Tell me he's fine then:" Jake's voice suddenly grows cold. It's such a change from one extreme to another that Spider slightly recoils from it. His fingers let go of his knees and come to clutch at the box he's sitting on, but he miscalculates the distance and grabs at nothing. "Tell me there is nothing wrong with the scans and the fact that you're doing a cranial nerve exam has nothing to do with his brain. Tell me you're doing them to entertain him. Say I was seeing and hearing things wrong and he excelled in the tests." The man's voice descends back into a panic as he talks faster and faster. "Please, Norm:" It's nothing but a gasp, but it's one of the most meaningful things Spider's ever heard.

That prayer-like sound given at the hope of him being fine. He was fine. He felt fine! How could anything be wrong?

But Norm doesn't reply anything. And Spider's hopes are crushed. Norm shamefully looking away is like a death sentence. 

Jake starts yelling and screaming. Not at Norm. Not at Spider. Something crashes. Sand flies. Spider starts counting his own breaths as his sight unfocuses too much to really make out anything. Four, five, six. 

Another crash. Norm's hand, big and blue and ever so soft comes to lay at his knee. Ten, eleven, twelve.

The yelling becomes hoarse for a moment before a gulping breath is taken. It's a lot of cussing now. Sixteen, seventeen.

Spider looks up at Norm. Spider has slumped over so much that they aren't face-to-face anymore. Norm is giving him that pitiful look that Spider hasn't seen since he'd proudly said he'd complete his Iknimaya as soon as he could- only to be told that wasn't possible without a tswin. /queue/

He can see Jake still raging in the background. The man's muscles constrict as he grabs onto a deep born root and rips it out, only to fling it at a nearby tree where it splinters and shatters. He slumps to his knees on the sand. Spent and crushed. Spider can't look anymore. 

Looking at Norm is just as terrible. The man is fidgeting still, and his lips are pressed more tightly together now. He's making up his mind about something. "Don't worry Spider we'll figure this out:" Norm's voice is just a whisper. His tone was a mockery of trying to be comforting as if anything could have that desired result right now. 

Norm peeks at Jake over his shoulder; there is a nervousness present.

"It's ok Spider. We'll figure this all out:" Norm is repetitive as he tries to help. Still, Spider doesn't want to hear it.

He feels a bit dizzy. He doesn't know when his creepy chuckles turned to silent crying. He only becomes aware of it when he sobs out. It's such an ugly sound, stuck in his throat, choking him as he tries to get in air before he does it again. Having Jake lose it and Norm look so unsure and panicked has just made this revelation worse. Spider almost wishes they wouldn't have started talking about any of this in front of him. Maybe if they'd moved away, finished the tests with him thinking it was all a joke then the revelation could have been done gently. He could have been eased into it. Now his mind comes up with the worst ideas and the most horrid conclusions. It's all so unnecessary. Spider doesn't know much about brain damage, but surely if it was really bad for him he would have noticed? 

Spider's sobbing is like a siren's call to Jake. Snapping him out of his own fears and getting him faster on his feet than anything. "Oh, my baby boy."

He carefully pushes Norm out of the way with an apologetic look so that he can see his son properly. 

Spider is still on the boxes, sobbing and just staring straight ahead. He's slumped over, and he looks afraid. Honestly, Jake is quite certain the boy is mere moments away from a panic attack. "I'm here, I'm here." Jake begins to shush his son as he wraps his arms around him softly, then he tightens his arms to make sure they feel secure. One of his hands comes to cup the back of Spider's neck, before sliding higher on his head as he remembers the boy can't feel anything at the top of his spine. His other hand lowers to grab under the boy's knee and he lifts and pulls him to the edge of the box so they can be closer. Spider shuffles so that they're pressed flush against one another as his own hands come to answer the hug. 

"Jake-" It's such a pathetic little whisper that it doesn't sound like Spider at all. Jake's heart breaks from it. Finally, he isn't Mr. Sully or Sir anymore, yet he'd trade that away if it meant the boy wouldn't sound like that. 

His own heart beats a mile a minute, but he calms his breath for the boy to listen to: "Just try to breathe at the same pace as me." He takes deep breaths and emphasizes the exhale. "Everything will be alright."

Oh great mother, oh Eywa allow everything to be okay. Don't let this be another struggle on Spider's path. Let all the tests be wrong, let the scans be faulty. Oh, Great Mother save my son from this. Let him be healthy and well, let him be unhurt and unaffected. 

He so rarely begs or prays for Eywa. He'd done so before the big war. He'd done so in the midst of battle, and for his son as he lay dying. But She'd always been more of a last-minute comfort to him. He could count the times he'd truly asked for Her aid or strength with his fingers. He lived by Her laws, raised his children to praise Her name, and knew She was all around. Yet the human part of him knew about the theory that She was just essentially a nervous system that attached all living things on this planet together. A biological phenomenon that the Na'vi interpreted as a deity. The side of him that had been raised to believe in science and not God understood that explanation better than the part of him that Neytiri had taught to trust in Her will. Was She a real goddess, some higher being that was all-seeing, all-encompassing? He couldn't be sure.

He'd sure seen Her favor when the animals had joined their fight against the skypeople and Neytiri had become the Palulukan Makto. But to trust his whole life and fate in Her hands seemed like a scary idea. Yet he'd done so when traveling through Her eye to live in this body permanently, and he'd buried his human body in the roots of Her most sacred tree as thanks. 

In his dream hunt, She'd been a bright golden light to which millions if not billions of golden strands attached. Life itself, Neytiri had told him. Lifelines were an old belief on Earth too, but here he'd seen them. Flickering, sparkling gold twine from different directions reaching for the same center. Yet his mind told him not to trust. A human trait.

Kiri strengthened his belief in Eywa when she'd speak of Her. He believes with his whole heart she'd heard the Great Mother's heartbeat. Mighty she'd said it was. Mighty enough to keep another cruelty from hurting his son? Maybe, hopefully. Spider believed in Eywa, so when Spider was low like this Jake too could pray to Her without any doubt in his core. Spider wanted to connect to the Great Mother, and biological phenomenon or not he deserved to feel that belonging and rightness of it. The calm quiet of being one with those who came before, and this planet they resided on. For Spider's ailments and fears, he'd always pray to Eywa. Because that's what Spider would want. That's what would bring him comfort. 

"I don't understand:" Spider's arms are so slim and tiny on his back. Holding his son like this just makes him appear smaller, and more fragile. Just a teeny tiny thing running around in the woods, entertaining his kids, learning about the world. Spider wasn't a man at all, he was just a child.

And Jake had made a mistake by interfering with Norm's tests. He should have let the man finish and then asked privately. Maybe all of this panic and fear could have been avoided; if not for him then for Spider. Now the boy was a sobbing mess, probably just more scared due to Jake's reaction. The same dread and terror he'd felt when he'd woken up unable to use his legs clutched at him, and yanked him to dark days of the past. Only it was worse now, and here, as he'd thought his son was being greeted with the same fate, or at least a similar one. You can't fix brain damage. He'd made peace about his time in a wheelchair and he'd give up his ability to walk in this body too, if it meant the damage Spider had wouldn't be horrible. Irreversible- yes. That was the reality they were facing. It would be their new normal. Now that they knew it could not be ignored, but that didn't make Spider broken or lesser than. Just... New. 

But how could he convey that to his son? 

Jake, Jake, Jake, Jake. That was all that was running in Spider's mind now. His sobs had ceased. He had his cheek pressed high on Jake's chest. The man moves his chin to lay it on top of his head, and one big palm is pressed to his dreads. It was comforting and warm and there was no room to move. For once, that felt good. He could hear Jake's heart thumping and he could tell it was a bit too fast. But they breathed in synch, calming one another, and slowly Jake's heart returned to normal. Spider closed his eyes. Everything was fine here, close to someone who would protect him, who'd look after him now. For just one evening he could slump against Jake and cry out his sorrows, letting the man carry them for him. 

He'd take back his responsibilities and baggage as soon as night fell. He'd be strong and independent again. He'd figure this whole brain thing out with Norm or something and he'd not be a burden. He couldn't allow himself to be a burden. But just for a few hours... Maybe he could be held by someone.

Jake smelled like the salty sea and a bonfire. The man's dreads tickled his shoulder, but he felt warm and trustworthy now.

He can feel Jake speaking above him, just like he had before. Chin moving on top of his skull, and his breathing patterns giving him away. "I can't hear you:" Spider says with his voice just a croak. Stillness and then Jake speaks again. 

The sound of the wind and sea are still merged into one, and Spider can hear Jake's breathing through his chest just fine, as well as his heart. But he can't hear Jake speak. No words break this social silence.

Jake moves his head off of the top of his head and the words filter in: "-you mean?" Spider just stares at the man. He blinks slowly. "Do you hear me now?" 

Spider nods. 

Jake looks so worried, and he wavers before he moves again. He leans in to place his head above Spider's again. Silence reigns again for the boy. The sea, the wind, a beeping from some device Norm has, gentle tapping on a datapad. Jake's breathing. But no words. Jake moves a hand to Spider's arm and gently squeezes there.

Jake retreats just a tad. Enough to come face-to-face with Spider again. He looks sad now. He casts a glance at Norm standing behind him and asks: "Is it possible for him to be deaf to sounds from above?" 

Norm looks caught off guard as he's spoken to. He takes a while to answer: "I've never heard of it, but theoretically it would be possible."

Spider's fingers clutch at Jake's back and he actually yanks the man a little so he can be embraced again. It's the first time he purposefully seeks affection from the man since he was a child. Back then he'd tried and tried to get the man to hug him, hold him, take care of him like he did his other kids. Eventually, he got old enough to feel embarrassed for being so obnoxiously needy and stopped. The constant rejection and careful redirection was tough to bear anyway. 

But the man looks only relieved once they embrace properly again. He pointedly doesn't place his chin on Spider's head anymore. Instead, he leans down so he can place it on Spider's shoulder. 

For a while, they just sit there and Jake begins to try to be comforting with his words: "We'll figure everything out together. I'll be here every step of the way. I won't leave you alone. I promise there's nothing to fear. Norm will know what to do." All those whispered words and vows felt like sweet nothings, and yet they settled Spider anyway. Jake's breathing was as soothing as the sea. 

Spider shuffled up a bit to press his face to the crook of Jake's neck. The man moved the hand that was on his head to span across his back diagonally to keep him sturdy and to hold good posture for him so that he wouldn't awkwardly slump again. Was that something he'd need help with from now on? Keeping his back straight was such a simple thing, and he'd always upheld good posture. And yet now Spider could remember the dozens of times he'd straightened up in front of Tonowari or Ronal here or the Recoms at the boat. Why would he have needed to straighten up if he hadn't been slumped over in the first place? 

There had been signs. He'd just not seen them. Spider shivers at the thought.

"What happens now?" Spider asks once he has the courage to do so. He dreads the answer.

Jake seems to too. He takes his time before he reacts.

"Anything you want:" Jake promises. He leans back enough so that they can look at each other. Both his palms come to press Spider's cheeks as he thumbs away old tear tracks. "We don't have to continue with any tests or scans today. Norm can stay another day and we can do them tomorrow. If you want her comfort we can have Kiri here to hold your hand during the tests, or you can be alone with Norm if that feels more comfortable. I'll be here if you want me here, or maybe you'd prefer Lo'ak? We can take breaks, and Norm can either tell you things as he figures them out or we can do the whole thing quietly so you won't need to worry until all the results are in. Anything you want."

"I don't want to wait. I want to know what's going on. And Kiri would just freak out and I don't want to scare her:" Spider actually manages to sound strong as he speaks. His mind is made. He could take more tests today, and he'd sit through a hundred scans if need be. But he didn't want to walk away now only to seek for slumber on the beach sand all night, tossing and turning and overthinking every detail.

He'd worry himself to death and at that point, the whole brain damage thing wouldn't even matter anymore. He had to do this now. He might not have the courage to come back tomorrow. He might just walk into the ocean, seek out an ocean current, and escape this fate that way. If he did that then his debt to the Sully's would never be paid. They'd be caught off guard once his father strolled on to Awa'atlu, alive and well and it would be his fault. He wouldn't be there to protect them or to take any stray bullet and be the next to go. 

"Kiri will find the strength to be here for you, don't doubt that now Spider. If you need her I will bring her here:" Jake promises with conviction. He was probably right. But it still felt wrong to Spider.

He shakes his head: "I'd rather you stay, and we do this now. I need to know."

Chapter Text

"Ok so, let's prioritize:" Norm says as he faces Jake and Spider properly. It's time he takes control of the situation as Spider's physician. He's just spent the past 10 minutes scrolling through all the data he had gotten from Spider's scans so far, and what he'd noticed himself.

Spider was in terrible health. It seemed like most things that could go wrong had gone wrong. He was undernourished and on the edge of seeming a tad starved. He couldn't be sure if Spider was simply not eating enough or if his diet was extremely lacking in nutrition. He'd need the boy to admit to either and that didn't seem to be in the cards at the moment. Norm didn't need a scale to know Spider had lost a lot of weight, and he had some signs of a lack of vitamins and iron. The wound had a list of problems going on with it, but Norm felt confident he could treat it. The sunburn he could set aside entirely since it would be so simple to heal same as the freezer burn. But the brain damage... Now that was another thing entirely. 

What the scans showed was practically an impossibility, and that's why he'd been so sure the scans went wrong the first time around. But the second set of pictures showed the same, unbelievable results. How to break the news to Jake and Spider was another thing. He himself didn't really understand what he was seeing. He desperately wanted to send all the data back to High Camp for actual experts in the subject to look at, but they really didn't have that kind of equipment here. Brain damage was a certainty, something was seriously messed up in that kid's head, but what the effect would be, and how this mess of colors had formed was a whole other thing.

He cursed the fact that the handheld scanner created such shitty images, blurry and unreliable, but not to the extent of creating pictures like this. 

It was hard to find out anything since Spider was so tight-lipped. The kid was so reluctant to speak in front of Jake. Like he was afraid of answering honestly in front of the man. Only Norm didn't really believe that. Spider was so rarely fearful, he usually had a far more selfless reason for hiding things. Maybe he didn't want Jake to worry extra hard? Now that would be more up Spider's alley. He needed a way to separate Jake and Spider, but he was quite afraid of making an attempt at that. Jake... Well, Jake didn't exactly look willing to let go of the boy. It seemed like going in between the two would be like waving a red flag in front of a bull. 

Then there was the issue that a lot of Spider's problems were in line with dare he say it; neglect. There wasn't a bone in Norm's body that believed it to be the fault of Jake but maybe despite Jake? His hair alongside the food deficiency were clear signs of it. His dreads were matted and dirty and the boy would need help untangling it; his other option was essentially a buzzcut. Norm felt like he was missing a million answers, and starting to detangle the web that was Spider pun intended, would be a lengthy process. It wasn't an easy topic to bring up, so he needed to be clever with his wording.

The way Norm remembered Spider was so different from the boy that sat in front of him now. Spider was fun, always excited about something, lively and smiley, quick-witted, and always on the move. He never slouched, never spoke out of turn unless it was to joke around, and always gave a helping hand. He wasn't this quiet, scared kid that looked like he didn't belong here. Or like he felt like he didn't belong here. There was a reserved feel to him like he hated sitting on this box under observation.

And his strange closeness with Jake was new too. Norm really didn't understand the dynamic between the two since it seemed so one-sided. Well, truth be told it had always been one-sided with Spider running after Jake and doing his best to be someone Jake could be proud of. But now suddenly Spider is at Awa'atlu after an age of being a captive and the roles have been reversed. Jake looks at Spider like the boy is his sun, and the light is going out. Meanwhile, Spider looked so uncomfortable whenever Jake was near. He leaned away from him at times and avoided eye contact. He was withdrawn and seemed to be attempting to keep a distance from Jake. At least until he'd gotten scared and curled up against the man like a little cat looking for comfort. 

It seemed Jake had finally stepped up into the role of a father, and Spider was a reluctant victim of this change. Life is such a mess once you start noticing details about others. But it was the price you had to pay for studying anthropology for so long; you learn to read people. 

"Just as a double check do you feel ready to do more tests right now Spider?"

The boy nods and pushes Jake a little, trying to steer him out of the way so he could have some more space. Jake very reluctantly moves to the side, his palm still pressed against Spider's upper arm, before he drops it down to clutch at the boy's hand instead. 

Norm clears his throat: "Well then, let's start with the ice burn. Essentially we can't do anything about it."

"Why not?" Jake's voice is cold. It's unnerving to hear him like that; almost as unnerving as Spider having zero reaction to the revelation.

"Well, the way you treat ice burn is with warm water soakings in twenty-minute intervals, and after that with a warm compress. However, holding the wound in water will cause other issues that would negate the positive impact of getting rid of the ice burn. And pressing something to the wound for the warm compress would just hurt him:" Norm tries to explain his reasoning with as simple words as he can. It's a bit more complicated when you go into the details. He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. He doesn't like being unable to do anything about one of Spider's symptoms; it's like he's letting the kid down.

First Jake looks like he wants to argue, his mouth opening, but it snaps shut as soon as Norm mentions that the treatment would be painful to Spider. "Alright then, how dangerous is it to leave it untreated?" 

"Not at all." Norm double-checks his scans of the wound once more time, just to be sure and then a confident look comes across his face. He nods as he starts to speak again: "The ice burn is very mild, actually it's so mild the scanner almost didn't pick it up. It's hot enough here that it should practically heal itself and disappear rather quickly. Is it causing you any pain now Spider?"

The boy looks unsure for a while, but Norm spots Jake squeezing his hand reassuringly. Spider nods, and it's such a small movement Norm almost doesn't notice. His swinging dreads give it away.

"Okay, then let's go with a fast-effecting pain medication alongside the pills:" Norm taps on the data pad to add a quick pain relief injection to Spider's treatment plan. "What I would like to know though is how you got it Spider." He holds his datapad to his chest once he's done adding to the list of treatment options, with the screen side against his body, and looks pointedly at the boy in question.

Spider is hunched over a bit again, his hair covering his face.

Jake leans down a bit, trying to catch Spider's eyes. "Spider, please tell us if you know anything?"

The boy sighs and runs his hands over the glass on his mask. "I started feeling like the wound was cold after Ronal's medication salve. I don't know how it could cause this ice-burn thing to happen, but it's my best guess." He kind of looks like a deer in headlights or a caught rabbit; like his only option is to try to talk and struggle his way out of this.

Jake looks angry, and Norm just groans. Of course, it's the ointment. It's so unbelievably obvious that Norm feels like a total idiot. He's glad he took proper samples of it to study before he flushed it all away. He wants to make sure back at the labs that the ointment was the cause. 

"The medication was applied yesterday and you didn't bother telling anyone? And you allowed it to be reapplied this morning?" Jake sounds like he's about to go on a tangent, but Norm just won't have it.

"Placing blame isn't something we should be doing Jake:" He walks forward to place a hand on the man's shoulder so he could push him back a little. "You won't be doing any good for Spider by chastising him now." Norm keeps his voice stern and angles his body between the boy and the man. 

Jake looks a little sheepish. He hangs his head and quips at Spider to stay put. Jake leads Norm a few steps away and lowers his voice to a whisper: "You're right. I... I don't know how to handle this. My children have never hid stuff like this from me before and the more I find out about Spider the more it seems like he's going out of his way to hide illnesses, injuries, and other stuff. I mean even now I still feel like there's something I'm not seeing."

Norm's guess that this had all been going on for a while was confirmed. He disdainfully purses his lips. He wants to throttle Jake, yell at him to get a hold of himself, and start making better choices. He bites his tongue for the sake of Neteyam.

"It's not his fault. I know it isn't. But no matter how hard I try to reaffirm that I'm here, and he can talk to me and trust me to care for him, he just doesn't seem to hear it." Jake sounds defeated and tired, it reflects on his face; a rare look in a Na'vi. Like it doesn't belong there due to the big eyes and cat-like nose. The man rubs a hand over his forehead, before pressing his palm down to his face and dragging it down. Jake looks like an overworked father. One with two jobs, 10 kids, and no time to himself. It doesn't lessen Norm's want to yell at him at all. 

"Can I be frank very quickly?" Norm asks. He squares his shoulders, preparing to put Jake in his place. He was the doctor here, and Jake was only a concerned parent who needed to leave the examination room.

"Yes, of course, Norm." 

"We aren't here for you. I didn't come here for you. I'm here for Spider so I can get him into better health and honestly, your internal battle is in the way of that happening:" Norm keeps looking Jake in the eye, unwavering and sure. He watches as the man drops his hands down and takes a step back. "I need you to get out of my way, and trust that I will make the choices that are best for Spider. You have to halt your need to become some parental figure to that boy-"

"I am a parental figure to him." He says it roughly, but Norm breezes past it.

Norm shakes his head in disappointment: "You have to set your ego aside, you've got to stop thinking about why he hasn't trusted you with this and start focusing on how you can help him now." 

It's silent for a bit. From the corner of his eye Norm can see that Spider has begun to fidget on the box, his eyes seeking out Jake constantly. Was this something the boy was doing consciously to beckon the man over? It seemed very effective, as Jake noticed and started having a hard time focusing on just Norm. His eyes flitted to Spider in a constant pattern, checking on the boy every few seconds.

"I am trying to help you, Jake. The time to talk is over. It's gone beyond that. Now we heal him, then we look for answers, and through the whole thing, we stay with him. Be positive, be comforting, be resourceful, act like the parent you want to be, and then maybe- maybe the next time he gets hurt he will actually come to you. Trust is earned with actions, not words. Promising him things won't work. Finding out why everything has gotten so bad before he's been given help sure as shit won't help us out of this mess. It really does not matter at this moment." 

Jake settles to just moving his gaze between Norm and Spider. He knows Norm's words are right, as he'd practically said the same thing to Spider in the past. That he'd prove with his actions that he was trustworthy. That's why he'd gotten Norm here today, and all the mask parts and clothing. It was a first step to being a good father, one that Spider could lean on. But he was fucking it all up by demanding answers before the boy was ready to give them. "If I don't know why this all happened I can't stop it from happening again." He's so tired of wrangling things together, healing things that ought not to be broken in the first place. Like Spider. His poor son.

"If it is Spider who hasn't trusted you enough to speak to you then you can't stop that from repeating. Not unless you create those bonds of trust first. It's all his choice now. Just like you said, Jake. Anything he wants." Norm's voice is so sincere. He really does want to help Spider and Jake. Spider just took priority right now, and whatever parental advice and support Jake needed would have to happen later. Preferably after Norm yells at him a little bit. 

"I agree, it's just that I'm just so worried:" It's just a gasp from Jake, and Norm sympathizes. 

"I know you are. But you have to know when to reign that in for Spider's sake." 

Jake starts rapidly nodding: "You're right. I'm sorry. I'll stay out of the way, I'll only ask questions regarding his health, and whenever you need me to do something just order me and I will." Jake takes a deep breath, maybe to center himself, and Norm pats him on the shoulder. 

"Thank you. We can talk about this later, and see how I can help, but for now, it's all about-" Norm leads his voice in a way that humans do when they want another to fill in the sentence. 

"Spider. It's all about Spider." 

Norm agrees with a smile. "Let's go back." 

They approach Spider again, the boy looks uncomfortable. He avoids eye contact with both of them. He's rubbing his thumb and forefinger together. 

"Let's start with your medication. I may add to it as we go along but first, you need to take a few pills." Norm sets down his datapad on the box next to Spider and turns around to rummage through the medicinal box. Pill jars all looked the same, it was a mess of white tubes with orange caps, and looking at them one at a time took a minute or two. It was a nice quick break to get his thoughts in order.

It had been quite a while since he'd had to make Spider take medicine; the boy always objected to it. He hated the feeling of swallowing them, having minor phagophobia about the little white tablets. Wrangling little child Spider to take medicine was awful, and he stayed just as difficult about it as a teenager. Norm sighed at the memory of having to call in Jake once to talk the boy into taking his fever medication. Nothing like calling in a kid's hero to get them to agree to medical care. At least Jake was already here, and there was no need to go searching for him in the forest. 

Norm grabs the antibiotic cream while he's at it, the bright blue lid of it being so easy to spot.

"Alright then. Three pills, one injection, and some antibiotic cream should get us started:" Norm whips around to see a rather heartwarming sight. Jake stands as close to Spider as he can while not obstructing him from Norm and holds one of the boy's hands ever so gently. His other hand is just soothing the boy, rubbing up and down along his back. Jake is looking at Spider so softly, and whispering something to him. 

"One of each pill?" Spider asks to confirm as Norm puts the three pill bottles next to the boy.

"Yes, just one of each." Norm starts to unscrew a pill bottle, popping off the orange cap while Spider and Jake do the same. They all tap the bottles to shake out a pill for Spider. 

The boy cups his hand to accept them, brings his palm up to his mask as he removes the thing, and pops all three pills in his mouth at once. He doesn't even reach for the water that Norm is offering and just tilts his head back quickly to swallow before putting his mask back on. He doesn't whine or fight against the tablets; doesn't make a face or throw a soft insult Norm's way before he acquits and thanks him for the meds. Just takes them, and then stares forward like he's dead to the world. 

Jake looks unphased, but something about this just seems wrong to Norm. He clears his throat: "I see you've gotten over your fear of taking pills." 

"The RDA made me take them a lot. It's a hell of a lot easier to just swallow them myself than have someone shove their fingers down my throat to push them in." He delivers it in such an unfeeling way. As if he was noting that it was cloudy outside. He doesn't seem nervous or worried while talking about it. 

It leaves Norm's skin crawling, as he looks for answers from Jake. Jake has none to give. 'Has he spoken of-' Norm begins to mouth to Jake, but the man shakes his head before he can even finish his question. So this is the first time Spider willingly brings up the topic of him being with the RDA. That is... A lot to take in. 

Norm doesn't really know what to say, too horrified and lost in what the right thing to do is. 

Jake is just shaking his head at him. They will discuss the topic later. Just as Norm has steered Jake back to the topic at hand, Jake now did the same for Norm. 

He squared his shoulders, shrugged off the feeling of dread and concern, and went back to just being a doctor. "Alright then. How are you with injections?" 

"I've never had an issue with them. Just the pills:" Spider shrugs, and looks at Norm now. His face is stern but in a sort of uncaring way. Like he is answering because he is forcing himself to answer, not because he wants to.

"I'm going to set up an IV drip for you and then I'll give you the pain medicine through that. It should be the most comfortable way to do it since I don't want to inject anything near the wound." Now that's just a bald-faced lie from Norm, but Jake just eats it up nodding along. He could give the injection to the kid's arm. But he wanted to give the kid some fluids, and possibly a TPN later if absolutely necessary without alarming Jake to the fact that the kid needed fluids and nutrients. Something about all of this was making Norm feel like that discussion about food intake would need to be between just himself and Spider.

He didn't want to push the kid too far and end up with Spider keeping things from him too. What if he was developing an eating disorder and needed a subtle approach? He'd have to test if the kid would take food when it was given to him.

Jake mantles up the intravenous pole with ease, having done it once or twice before, while Norm sets up the IV bag, tubing, and needle. Spider just sits waiting.

Norm hangs up the bag of liquid from the IV pole infusion hook and approaches Spider with the needle. Spider already had his arm extended, wrist up to face the sky, the inside of his elbow looking as sun burnt as the rest of him. 

"Hmm... Maybe we should do a numbing cream at the needle site, just because your sunburn is going to make it feel worse:" Norm tilts his head in thought and doesn't miss the eye-roll from Spider. 

"Now that's just pushing it:" The boy says, sounding annoyed, just like he always did when he was feeling like he was being babied a bit too much. 

Jake places his hand on the boy's head, pressing down softly, and now isn't that the most welcome sight. It's a weird thing Jake had always done with his kids. But Norm has never seen him do it to Spider before. When the boy's eyes trail to meet Jake's and his upset softens the tiniest bit; Norm can't help but smile a little. "Just let Norm do his thing."

Copying some of Kiri's most well-known mannerisms, Spider looks up a little, and gently shakes his head as he says: "Fine." Under his breath.

Norm grabs numbing cream, and cleanses the area of the skin first with a cotton wipe and a 60% alcohol solution as recommended by the World Health Organization which had gotten the coup d'état treatment ages ago. They wait 30 seconds for it to dry and then he applies the numbing cream. It sinks into the skin slowly. A couple of times Norm taps the area to test how well Spider could feel there. It's an awkward wait. Once he's happy with everything he wipes down the needle site one more time, before grabbing the needle and slowly sinking it into the boy's vein. The boy stares at the needle disappearing in and doesn't flinch. Like he'd said, he'd always been fine with needles.

Norm must have run through 8 pairs of medical gloves by now, but they weren't in the most sanitary environment so it was necessary. The pair he used to inject the needle into the vein gets thrown into the pile of discarded blue latex. 

"Does the IV feel ok to you Spider?" Jake asks, and the boy says it feels fine. Jake stacks up another small box under Spider's arm so he can rest it on top of it. It was important he didn't bend his arm with the needle in. Jake opens up the IV bag and watches as it begins to drip one drop at a time. Norm gives him instructions to slow the drip down in 10 minutes. 

Norm is in the zone now. Everything is analytical to him. He breaks the pain relief medication glass ampule open and draws the liquid into another syringe. He taps at it a few times to get rid of any possible air bubbles. He squirts out a few drops to be extra careful. It is easy to do things you've done a million times. Back when he'd had to start doing this stuff for the first time he'd been rather nervous. Norm isn't a doctor, or a nurse, or anything of the sort officially, but on Pandora you adapt or you die. And he'd gotten quite good. 

"So this is for the pain of the ice burn and the wound?" Jake asks. 

"Yes. It should relieve the pain quickly. The pills were mainly for fighting off the infection and stimulating healing. This is way more direct. Since I can't heal your ice burn I can at least ensure it doesn't keep hurting you." Jake gives a grateful look to Norm, and the man flicks the injection syringe again. 

He administers it quickly through the IV and then clears out all the trash of the packaging that had been left strewn about from the needles and equipment. It wouldn't reflect on him well if he just left garbage all along the Metkayina tribe's beaches. 

Spreading the medication cream to the wound was simple, as was wrapping it up after to shield it from bacteria. 

"Well, that's about everything I can do about the wound right now." Norm wipes his hands together, before picking up his datapad again to pull up the images of Spider's brain. "I'd like to do a few more basic cranial nerve exams just to get a scope on where we can see deficiencies and issues and to map what we don't need to worry about." 

"Okay..." Spider agrees, but Norm stays still as he can see the boy is contemplating about saying more. "What exactly did you notice issues with already?"

Norm takes a breath and redies himself: "Well first of all I don't want to scare you unnecessarily; we haven't seen any major issues with your cranial nerves at all. Those would include things like total hearing loss or not being able to move certain parts of your face."

"It's hard not to worry when I don't fully understand what you're even testing:" Spider speaks with such uncertainty. It seems like admitting to this is hard for him. His hands clench, knuckles going white as he drops his head down to stare at his knees. 

"Norm will teach you. Right Norm?" Jake starts rubbing circles on Spider's back. He goes slow and stays down around midway on the boy's spine. He looks at Norm pleadingly, though he doesn't have to. Norm would be happy to teach Spider. In fact, he should have started with that. 

He pulls up a simple example sheet on the handheld holo screen and turns it towards Spider. "Of course! What we are checking is how the twelve cranial nerves are functioning. They are shortened to CN I, CN II, in Roman numerals all the way to CN XII. Each cranial nerve governs some function of your body. So checking cranial nerves is essentially a way to see how certain things in your body are working. Now cranial nerves don't cover your whole body's function but senses like smell and eyesight are largely dependant on them." He swipes onto a picture of the cranial nerves as they are in the brain. 

Spider stays silent, and squints his eyes, but doesn't otherwise acknowledge what he sees. Just nods along like he understands Norm's explanations. Jake leans in to look at the picture.

"We can go at them one at a time. Make it clear what we are testing. Does it sound okay to you that I explain each nerve just before we do the test or would you prefer that we go through all of them now so that there are no surprises?" It's not really a necessary question. Checking cranial nerves is simple and unobtrusive. Spider certainly hadn't shown any fear towards the tests earlier that day. But it was still nice to be able to let Spider choose.

"I'll just forget them and mix them up if we do them all at once, so one at a time, please." It's his first proper request, and Norm shows him an encouraging smile, just like Jake. "Will you tell me which ones we already tested as we go and if you saw any issues then?"

"Yes. I am going to be entirely transparent with you Spider:" Norm picks up a little twig from the ground to use as a pointer. "Ready?" With a nodded reply he begins: "So the first cranial nerve is the olfactory nerve aka your sense of smell. The test for the first cranial nerve checks for anosmia which is the loss of sense of smell. It's this one here:" He uses the twig to point at the golden nerve at the forefront of the image of the brain. "We have not tested this yet. Have you experienced any issues with smelling things?" 

"No, I smell things just like before:" Spider straightens up again, and Jake reaches out a hand to keep him sturdy. It's a nice thing for the man to do, Norm guesses Jake has come to the same conclusion as he has: something is wrong with the kid's posture. He can't hold it up for some reason and Norm is absolutely certain it's from the brain damage he can see on the scans.

"Okay, that's good. Let's still do the test just in case." From what Norm had seen on Spider's brain scans it didn't look like any of the damage reached the olfactory nerve, but better safe than sorry. "I have some vials that have different scents in them. I'm going to pop them open, spill some onto a cotton wad, and then put that inside your mask. Since you can't breathe in through your nose to smell anything with your mask off we have to be a bit clever with this one. We wouldn't want you to get side effects from Pandoran air."

Norm's big hands feel terribly clumsy with the scent vials. They just have different well-known Pandoran plants ground up with water added. Spider would know these scents and they were easy to acquire. The vials are so tiny in big Na'vi hands though, he keeps almost dropping them, and trying to pop off the caps is a nightmare.

"Let me help Norm:" Spider says, and reaches out for the vials. 

Norm hands the vials over with an embarrassed smile: "Maybe that is best. Thank you Spider. Here are the cotton wads, just a few drops should do. Do this vial first." It's the purple-capped one.

Spider opens the lid and pours a few drops onto the cotton. Jake takes a few steps away while covering his nose with a cough. Norm is far enough to not smell the scent from here, but he can almost imagine it. The centipede plant smells vile. Spider throws a glance at Jake and then sighs. "It's gonna be the väfewll plant right? Oh, Eywa I almost wish I would have anos- ansos- whatever the no-smelling thing is called." /centipede plant-bad smell plant/ Spider makes a face, disgusted as he holds up the cotton and takes a deep breath. 

"Anosmia:" Norm tells the correct word to Spider as Jake mumbles me too under his breath. He's still covering his nose. It's kind of funny how offended the man looks, staring at the little vial like it's committed some horrid crime. 

Spider breaks the seal of his mask and pops in the cotton wad. He presses the buttons to let the mask flood in air again and immediately gags. "Knew it."

He quickly removes the cotton wad and then coughs a few times.

"Sorry Spider, that's the smelliest plant in the forest so it made sense to include it. We will keep going to less strong scents along the test." He accepts the cotton wad, making a face himself as he puts it in a travel trash bin.

"I can practically taste it, Norm." Spider grumbles, and he finally looks a bit more relaxed and talkative. That's good. Maybe the slight shock he had going on was dissipating. Jake returns to the boy's side. "But yeah it's väfewll for sure."

They move on to the next vial, and the next, and then finish off with the fourth one: "It's the healing rose since it smells like aloe vera." 

"Alright then, I think we can rule out any issues with your sense of smell. You seem to be identifying everything with ease." Norm clears out the vials and then starts tapping on his datapad, marking down the very simple finding that everything was okay: "Now even if we missed something and there are minor issues that's okay. The neurons in the epithelium have a limited life span; this means that as the cells die they are replaced by new growing ones. As long as the olfactory nerve is not entirely severed which we have now proved has not happened to you, it can heal itself. So if any issues exist, they should heal on their own." 

"Why'd we even test for it then?" Spider asks, still upset about having to smell the centipede plant.

"For caution." 

"That's stupid:" Spider scoffs. 

Jake tuts at the boy: "Being thorough with your health is not stupid." 

Norm cuts in: "The second cranial nerve is the optic nerve, it's the one right behind the olfactory nerve as shown in dark green here." He taps at his datapad with his stick, tracing along the dark green lines. He watches as Spider leans in and squints again before he backs up once more. "The optic nerve is checked to test your field of vision and clarity of vision. Now you keep squinting your eyes a lot. Is there something going on with your eyesight?" He tilts his head and gives Spider a questioning look. Jake looks at Spider too, sort of surprised. He must not have noticed the squinting. 

"Not really. My sight has been just fine. The screen looks a bit blurry to me, but I think it's because I'm tired and I haven't looked at holoscreens in a while." The explanation the boy gives isn't exactly foolproof, but still plausible enough. Norm notes it down on his datapad.

"Well let's get right into the tests then. The tests for field of vision and clarity are separate and we need to do it one eye at a time. I don't have a Snellen chart with me so we will need to improvise:" Norm asks Spider to look straight ahead and cover one eye with his hand. He points up a finger and asks Spider to tell him when he wiggles it. It looks a bit silly, constantly moving his finger to a different spot in front of Spider's face before wiggling it. It's worth it to come to the conclusion that Spider has no issues with his eyesight. The boy timely says so whenever the finger wiggles, not getting it wrong even once. "Great news. You don't have any blind spots or issues with your area of vision."

He explains that the check for clarity of vision would usually be done with the Snellent chart which is a large white card with letters on it, but without it, they can just use Norm's fingers again. He puts up a random number of fingers from both hands, moving further and further and asking Spider to always count how many fingers are up in each hand. He ends up accidentally flipping Spider off, which earns him a laugh. It's nice. The tests are so simple, and going so well that Spider is getting over his nervousness from before. 

He gives Spider a ration bar to eat as a small break while he puts in data to Spider's file. He's praising the boy. "You did really well on your eye exam as well. No issues, really good vision as always." 

"That's great news, Norm:" Even Jake smiles during their little reprieve. "What's next?" The man reaches out for Norm's datapad, but Norm swipes it up before Jake can grab it. 

"CN III, CN IV, and CN VI; they test for how well the extraocular muscles are working:" Norm turns the brain image back to Spider and Jake again and taps at the oculomotor nerve that's shown in bright yellow, the trochlear nerve which is colored a dusty pink and the abducens which is purple and located more in the center of the brain. "They are all separate but are needed together for regular pupilar and eye movement."

"So with them, I move my eyes and focus my sight? Things like that?" Spide asks as clarification.

Norm explains in a bit more detail, but he's got the core idea right.

Spider mumbles from around his ration bar that his eyes are just fine. He's biting into the bar with gusto whenever he cracks open his mask to be able to eat. Jake has to keep his hand over the boy's wrist so that he doesn't try to grab at the ration bar with the hand that has the IV drip on it. It's kind of admirable how Jake thinks to do things for Spider like that. Helping with his posture, and looking after his IV spot. Just things that are so simple to do, yet Norm wouldn't have thought of doing himself. Maybe it's the fatherly side of the man, the part that's learned to somewhat preemptively react to his children. 

Norm and Jake wait while Spider eats, Norm trying to appear busy, and Jake just watching his kid. It's calm and silent for a while. Not a bad change from the earlier hubbub.

Once Norm has seen Spider eat two ration bars he throws away the wrappers with the rest of the trash and then straightens up: "So you remember when I shone that light into your eyes? That was to check for your pupillary light reflex. It was completely clear and fine, your pupils are the correct size, and moved and reacted just as they should so we are just left with testing for eye movement." He moves to stand roughly a meter in front of the boy and then holds up the stick. "I want you to look at this tiny little leaf at the end of this stick. You need to follow it with your eyes, but not move your head, okay? Tell me if you get any double vision." 

Spider nods, and Norm moves the stick in an H-shaped pattern in the air, keeping it the same distance away from the boy at all times. Spider's eyes trail the stick just fine, and he doesn't move his head. Norm takes a moment to praise him: "You're doing great, I'm not seeing any problems here. Next, I'm going to move the stick towards you to check for the accommodation reflex; just like before keep your eyes on the little leaf and don't move your head." Norm observes that Spider's pupils constrict once the stick is close enough just like they should. "Okay then, good job. I think we can write down that you don't have any issues with these cranial nerves either. It's looking really good Spider." 

Jake smiles openly. Five nerves down and no noticeable issues yet. That was great! He leans down to press a quick kiss to the top of Spider's head. 

Norm steadies himself as he opens up a more specific info panel about the next cranial nerve. When he turns around with a worried look, his hands squeezing the handheld holo screen a bit too hard the smile slides off of Jake's face. Norm really doesn't want to start talking. But he has to. He steels himself with a longer breath and begins. 

"The sixth cranial nerve is about a lighter touch. There were some notable issues there when I tested it with the sharp or dull test." He gives Spider a moment to adjust to the news, the boy looks a bit dejected but not all forlorn. 

Spider takes his own deep breath, squares his shoulders, and then: "Alright. What does that mean specifically for me?" 

"Well, normally the test is done just like we did it. Touching something soft and something sharp around the face. The point isn't to cause pain because pain sensory has different nerves. However, when I tested your chin you said you felt nothing. At that point, I expanded the area to test for the rest of your body too." 

"So early during the test when I said I didn't feel anything you were actually touching me and just didn't tell me?" Spider's voice is dead, but Norm knows anger is bubbling within. "What about total transparency?" 

Norm shifts awkwardly on his feet, Spider studies the movement. "Well that was then and I didn't want to unnecessarily alarm you." 

Now Spider actually looks mad: "That's not fair. I hate when things are kept from me. You know that Norm. I expected you to have my back." He sounds so hurt. Like Norm's betrayed him. 

"Spider, Norm made a decision based on what he thought would be best for you:" Jake steps in to place his hands on Spider's shoulders very softly.

Something clenches in Norm's chest. He knows Spider would have preferred to know straight away. He didn't want to damage the little trust the boy had to give, but it was done, and there was no changing the pattern of events here. Everything was such a mess, but at least they would finally have some answers. "I am sorry Spider, for what it's worth. And I'm not keeping anything from you now." 

Spider stares at him a moment, his brows are a tad furrowed. It's good to see an expression on the boy's face even if it's upset. "Fine. Keep going there's clearly more." 

Norm sucks on his bottom lip for a few seconds and then turns the datapad around. Briefly, he explains about the sixth cranial nerve. The trigeminal nerve is the biggest one of the cranial nerves and it's colored in the earlier picture in blue. "It also controls the muscles of mastication and corneal reflex." He goes more into detail about this nerve; understandably since there seems to be an issue with it. "Spider, you lack sensation on your chin entirely. That speaks of mild damage since every other part of your face seems completely fine." 

Spider's hand comes to touch his mask, slipping his fingers in while he holds his breath. He touches his chin and he frowns. "I feel like I can feel though?" It's such a bizarre sentence, but Norm knows what the boy feels.

"You feel the touch on your fingers, not your chin. And sometimes when people see they are being touched somewhere they can feel an illusion of touch even if it isn't really there:" He explains and picks up a mini recording device. 

Jake reaches out to secure Spider's mask back on, tells him to take a deep breath, and then pulls the mask off. He grips Spider's chin gently, and the boy's eyes trail down to look at the bit of his hand that he can see. "That's so weird. I can feel it." He'd sound so certain if it wasn't for the quiver at the end of his voice. 

Jake lets go so Spider can use the mask again. They give him a minute to breathe before Norm asks Spider to close his eyes. He points the camera towards Spider and Jake repeats the steps of taking off the mask and then quickly touching his chin.

"Do you feel anything now Spider?" Norm asks, watching the feed from the camera on the holo screen. 

"No." 

Spider says, and then immediately moves to take his mask back. Once it's on he visibly gulps, and his eyelashes flutter. There is a quiver in his bottom lip when Norm shows him the footage on repeat. 

"It's kind of like phantom pain, only it's an illusion of touch without the hurt:" Jake explains as he sets on soothing down Spider's hair again. He looks terribly sad, and Norm can't help but wonder how Jake feels having to explain the same sensations he had to bear when he was still a paraplegic. "I had them often in my human body after I was paralyzed. They are more common in people who have lost limbs."

Norm tunes out as Jake begins to explain a field of study he has real experience with. Norm can't be much help here, it's better to let Jake handle this part. 

Jake's heart aches looking at Spider: "It's nothing to be afraid of. It's just a false sensation. And it won't cause you any pain like it did me." Jake's own mind is a jumble. He wants to scoop Spider up and just hold him for a while, but he's been asked to step aside and for Spider he always will. "There are four generic types of it, but you don't have any of them. Your feeling is just an illusion brought on by your eyes seeing something and your body knowing what it should feel like."

Spider leans to Jake's side. Jake wraps his arms around him and sighs: "The thing is you don't even have to get used to it. Even if the sensation of the touch isn't real it won't affect your life whether you feel it or not. It's just there now and that's fine."

"You used to have pain in limbs you couldn't even use?" Spider's voice is so quiet, he sounds so fragile and worried. "That's terribly cruel." 

Jake is once again thrown off by the empathy this boy has. He's worried about the aches Jake used to have over fifteen years ago in a body that has been buried; discarded and is fully gone, replaced by something better and stronger. He feels hurt over the fact that Jake had to bear it; even now he sympathizes while he faces brain damage and infected wounds and who knows what else himself. "Oh, you sweet boy:" Jake mumbles and presses a hand to the side of Spider's mask. "You worry for me even when those days are far behind me." 

"It can't have been easy." 

"It wasn't:" Jake admits. "But I'll do my best to ensure you get the best care, and the best medication, and everything else you might need to ensure you don't face anything like that; ever." He solemnly vows that; his voice is strong and unwavering. Jake's eyes close slowly. There is more to tell and more to examine, yet his mind is already so exhausted. He wants to wrap Spider up in a little blanket like a burrito and set him down somewhere just to sleep a while. The boy looks like he needs it. He has darkening under eyes, and a far too pale complexion under all the sunburn. He hands Spider another ration bar instead. Gratefully the boy unwraps it, and with steady lifts of his mask begins to eat. 

Norm and Jake hold steady eye contact. Norm hands Jake his datapad, open to a wall of text, and only a few lines in Jake already understands. He'd had his suspicion with all the clear evidence of the sensory test. He'd not wanted to believe, but even with his limited knowledge of the cranial nerves and sensation loss, he knew it was true. He closes his eyes slowly and wills himself to stay strong. 

"There is more Spider." 

Spider looks at Jake like a kicked puppy. 

Jake speaks with a calm, understanding voice: "The cranial nerve only controls sensation to the face, but Norm tested the rest of your body as well. And there was a problem." He gives himself a minute, just a moment longer when everything is manageable. "You can't feel the area at the top of your spine at all; the back of your neck is entirely sensationless Spider. As is the lower part of the back of your skull." He waits. Spider just stares. "You are also miscalculating where touches on your back are happening. When Norm was touching just the top part of your scapula you felt it at your neck."

Jake can see his son's jaw clench. Spider blinks rapidly: "What does that mean?" 

"It means the damage isn't restricted to just your cranial nerves. Your brain damage is not as mild as it may appear once these tests are done. We are most likely just scratching the surface... And the scans confirm it."

"Show me:" Spider requests. Jake carefully moves to stand behind the boy and, with Norm's guidance presses his fingers to certain spots on his back. Every time he asks where Spider feels it, and then tells whim here he is actually touching. Every sensation Spider feels higher up than it actually is. Or at least he perceives them to be higher. It's hard to tell if there is a false sensation somewhere else, or if his brain is making miscalculations about the position of the touches. There was a difference between those things, and they'd need to figure out which way it was for the boy. Right now, there wasn't much they could do. They lacked the equipment. 

As soon as he touches Spider's neck and up the bottom curve of his skull the boy feels none of it. 

Jake can remember waking up without sensation in his legs. How scary it was, how hard it was to accept. Sure Spider could still move normally, as far as they could tell. But it was still terrifying to be touched somewhere and not be aware of it. It's like your whole body is betraying you, and suddenly all you can trust is your eyes. Even though Jake has gone through something similar, he doesn't quite know what to say. You're still you. This doesn't make you lesser than. It might feel worse than it is. You're lucky it's a small area? No. None of those things would bring his son any comfort until he had the time to truly think things through. 

The disbelief in the beginning is like a tidal wave and Jake knows it. Now he just needs to make sure Spider won't drown in it. He can hold his son up above the water.

"So I do have proper brain damage? Beyond just these cranial nerve things?" Spider sounds so small. Hell, he is small. "Something is proper wrong?" 

"Yes:" Jake answers, and lets go of the boy's dreads which he'd gathered and held up to make his back easier to see. They swing down heavily. Jake wants to untangle them to get that weight off of Spider. The boy hangs his head now. Upset and tired. 

"Am I disabled?" Spider asks it strongly, as he shakes off his worry for a moment and turns around to look at Norm. Norm is so caught off guard by the boy's frankness that he just looks like an idiot, jaw moving up and down, seemingly forgetting how to speak for a moment. "Am I disabled?" He asks again, his voice even stronger this time. He doesn't look angry, worried, or sad. None of the main feelings Norm was expecting are present in the boy. 

"Brain injury is considered a type of disability, however, there are different levels of severity so I can't really say yes or no until we figure out everything:" Norm's fingers fumble with his datapad. He feels so awkward and unsure. 

"Based on what you know now, even the things you haven't told me about yet, am I disabled?" He puts weight on each word, sounding like he wasn't going to let this go until he got a straight answer. 

Norm looks at Jake, trying to see if the man has some sort of ace up his sleeve. Jake just slowly shakes his head and pulls Spider towards himself. Maybe Jake's presence would be enough to help Spider through this? 

"Based on everything? I'd say yes you are."

Chapter Text

"Spider?" Jake asks after a long moment of silence. Spider has gone back to rubbing his thumb and index finger together, not speaking, eyes unfocused just gazing at the sea. "Are you alright?" It's such a stupid question. A meaningless one when Jake was so sure of the answer. But it would help him map out Spider's mental state. 

"I'm fine:" The boy says, kind of looking surprised he's being spoken to. He flashes a quick, small smile Jake's way before he looks at the sea again. 

"It's okay to not be fine. To feel scared, worried, or unsettled. Any emotion is valid for you now:" It's probably the most Jake's ever sounded like a therapist. He tries to slip in words he's heard Norm say before. Like valid. He often felt like he wasn't an emotional enough person to comfort his family the way that they needed him to. Or maybe he simply felt the wrong emotions. 

"I am fine though:" Spider says. "I'm fine:" He repeats with conviction more to himself than anything. "I might need a minor adjustment period, but you were disabled and look what you became." 

Spider's eyes search for Jake's, but for once the man had a hard time looking back. It's a sweet praise. Something any disabled adult would love to hear from a youth going through something similar. It makes Jake feel like he can help Spider through this. Guide him and be a good example. He almost wishes he'd held onto his human body so he could show the way properly. But that's the issue, isn't it?

Jake sighs and looks into those dark brown eyes. "I was moved to a new body. The things I've done on Pandora in the war and... Otherwise- Were accomplished in a body that isn't disabled." Norm walks a little ways off, giving them privacy.

"Maybe so, but you were paraplegic when you chose to come to Pandora. You were disabled in cryo sleep, and when you first entered your Avatar. When you'd go to sleep in the woods you'd wake up in your human body, sit down in your wheelchair, and keep going." 

Oh... How Jake wishes now he would have spoken to Spider and his children about how hard it all was for him back then. How he hated his paralyzed human body so much Grace had to practically force him to eat to keep it functioning. What an incredible escape entering his Avatar had been, how he didn't feel alive outside of it. The way getting back into his Avatar was all he could think about; and how horrid every second outside of it was once he had the freedom of being whole and unbroken once again. How he grew to loathe his own body, its weaknesses and incapabilities. How he almost sold out the Na'vi for the chance to go back to earth and get the surgery to fix his human form. 

He'd made peace. He'd found satisfaction in who he was while lying in Neytiri's arms, so small against her form. There had been acceptance of his body and who he was when she looked down and him, loved him, and saw him as something beautiful. Someone she wanted a family with. Finding that comfort, that clarity was why when he'd given up his human body he'd known he didn't do it out of hate, but to leave the past behind and begin anew. With her. 

It would have been easy to speak about his human body years ago, or even yesterday. He could have told Spider about his experiences without feeling bad, not causing anguish in the boy. Now the words were ash in his mouth because Spider saw hope in him. Hope that Jake had been okay being disabled, and had enjoyed a life even while unable to walk, despite phantom pains and the obstacles of being on Pandora. How could he crush that dream? That trust the boy had that because Jake had been fine he would be too. 

Jake had not been fine for years. He'd suffered. He'd learned to hate his life and himself. The journey to move past it and see himself as someone worthy of a good life had not been easy and Jake doubted it would be much different for his sweet son. He couldn't tell him now. He couldn't speak about the topic without creating new scars for himself and Spider.

He smiled gently: "That's true." 

He can see Norm turn to look at him from the corner of his eye. The man didn't say anything to contradict him, but back then Norm had endured a front-row seat to Jake's self-loathing and pity party. Had witnessed his battles with himself and his mental health. He knew Jake was lying, but chose not to interfere. 

"There are different severities to disabilities Spider. Yours is from the milder end:" Norm says, he sounds so gentle and careful. Jake appreciates it.

Spider keeps quiet a moment: "Being paraplegic must have been a harder burden to bear than whatever I have going on. I mean I haven't really even noticed that anything is wrong, so how bad could it be?" Spider smiles a bit more openly now. It's good to see tension leaving the boy. He's taking this so well, a bit too well in fact. It worries Jake that Spider might be suppressing feelings, and end up spiraling later. He'd just have to be there if it came to pass. 

They took a small break. Just for things to settle. 

Norm kept his distance, he got all sorts of things ready, or at least looked like he was setting up things. It may have been just a cover to keep busy and not have to awkwardly stand still. 

Jake just wanted this day to be over. He wanted to watch Norm fly up and away while saying that nothing more needed to be done. Jake longed to sit down at the beach with Spider to just calmly watch the sunset. Maybe they'd talk and he could try to comfort Spider about his results, or they might just sit in silence and be there; together, as a father and son.

"Are you ready to keep going Spider?" Norm asks when the moment feels right to him. With confirmation and spoken permission, they move on. 

The test for muscles of mastication is simple. Spider just has to turn his face in different directions or try to open his jaw while Norm holds his face and tries to resist the movement. It practically just tests to see if the muscles of his jaw and face are strong and not starting to atrophy. They're able to do the whole thing while keeping Spider's mask on too. He passes the test with flying colors, though he lacks a jaw-jerk reflex due to the lack of sensation on his chin. That's fine, it's not dangerous. 

That's something Norm had to reiterate to Jake twice. 

"The next cranial nerve is the facial nerve. It's right here in the brain as shown in green." He points with his little stick and suddenly feels really sick of doing these tests. Norm doesn't usually grow tired or 'playing doctor' as someone might say, but seeing the reactions of both Spider and Jake is throwing him through a whirlwind. Add his own suspicions, fears, and pity in and you've got quite the emotional rollercoaster. And nothing he is doing here is actual concrete help for Spider. The boy needs to be in a lab, surrounded by every damn scientist Norm knows. He needs a team and Norm knows he and Jake just won't be enough. 

"We tested this a bit when I told you to frown and puff out your cheeks. You did excellent but we can just do a few more to make sure." Norm asks Spider to raise his eyebrows and show his teeth. He has the boy squeeze his eyes as tightly shut as he can and then raise his eyebrows again while keeping his eyes shut. Everything looks fine. "This nerve also governs your sense of taste. Now I didn't really think to bring any food or anything so you'll just have to tell us if your sense of taste has worsened or had any issues?"Spider makes a face, no doubt thinking about something disgusting he'd eaten lately: "Trust me, Norm my sense of taste is just fine."

"You don't like the food at Awa'atlu?" Norm questions carefully, approaching the topic of food in a feigned casual manner. 

"Everything just tastes like fish or seaweed:" Spider looks away, but for some reason, Norm's suspicions grow.

"Alrighty then. The vestibulocochlear nerve is the next one we will test. In the image, it's in pink, located pretty much at the core of the brain. This nerve affects both hearing and balance." He slides into a more detailed explanation just as he did with the nerve of light touch.

Jake and Spider both listen closer, knowing that means there are issues and they are about to learn something that would matter later on. Jake's focus especially feels very intense. 

"This nerve is why he can't hear things from directly above?" Jake questions, frowning slightly.

Norm makes and unsure gesture and looks apologetic: "Well it is possible I guess. I've never come across an injury like that and it could be caused by something else as well. So... Maybe?" He hates not knowing things. Both Spider and Jake deserve a proper understanding of what's going on, but Norm just doesn't have answers to offer; only educated guesses. "We test for the hearing part of this test in three simple ways. The first is to whisper numbers in each ear and have you repeat them. We did that already, and you both skipped a number and got a number wrong." Hearing that Spider's head jerks to look away. 

"I'd like to repeat the same test in a longer form and see how you do:" Norm says, keeping his voice light. With no answer received he quickly looks at Jake who is holding Spider's hand, but finds no help there. "Spider?" 

"Yeah fine." 

Sometimes Spider blends two numbers together. Seventeen and eighteen turn into just seventeen as he hears the beginning of the first number and then the ending of the second one. Two and four turn into twenty-four. He skips numbers when he doesn't hear them and ends up confused when two numbers sound too similar back to back. 

Norm takes his time explaining this. "Essentially you might hear things wrong sometimes. Words might blend together weirdly or you might not hear little parts of the conversation. Nothing too terrible, but still enough of a setback that you need to focus to notice strangeness in conversation instead of just trusting your ears. That way you can spot when you heard something wrong or you missed a word; and won't end up with misunderstandings."

Spider suddenly finds himself rethinking every conversation he's had since the funeral. And before it with the recoms too. Had he imagined things somewhere? Might he have heard stuff wrong or been weird by replying to questions with answers that made no sense? Had this affected his life already?

Had Kiri said I love you back? Or had she said I don't love you back, and then he'd smiled at her like an idiot? Suddenly the fact that he'd heard Jake say son, and kid, or my son specifically made sense. Words were missing in between or maybe the son part was the end of a word he'd said? His brain hurt and he had to stop thinking about this. 

"Now this is a tuning fork. It actually sounds kind of nice like this:" Norm says and hits the tuning fork gently with a metal clip he'd found in one of the boxes. Norm had always loved the sound of tuning forks. That gentle hum reverberated and slowed into silence before disappearing entirely. 

"This test will distinguish between conductive hearing and sensorineural hearing. You see conductive hearing requires sound vibrations to be heard through the middle ear, while sensorineural hearing is transmission of sound stimuli through the inner ear and the cranial nerve." Norm explains trying to make this simple, and clearly failing as Spider and Jake both look at him as if he'd just switched to a language they don't know. "Simply said humans can hear sounds two different ways and we are checking that you can still hear both ways." 

"Aaah."

"Okay, that makes sense." 

Norm smiles. He's clearly gotten too used to being around other scientists. He needs to start leaving the lab more.

He starts the test and moves the tuning fork quickly from one of Spider's ears to the other. He also has Spider say when he stops hearing the humming. Spider doesn't hear the lower tunes, and the spot right above his skull is entirely silent. No matter how many times Norm tests moving the tuning fork over Spider's head it's like there is an area of total silence right above him. It's fascinating, but also a bit nerve-wracking. 

The tests seem useless because Norm really doesn't know what to make of them. 

"Inconclusive:" He says softly, as he sets the tuning fork down. 

"Inconclusive?" Jake repeats. The man can't seem to be able to make up his mind if he should be mad or just worried. 

"He has total hearing loss above his head, and seems to hear better with his right ear than his left, but I can't really tell if the issue is with conductive hearing or sensorineural healing. Thus... Inconclusive." Norm's explanation doesn't seem to calm Jake at all. The man redirects his need to do something to grabbing a waterbottle for Spider from the Samson and asking the boy to drink. 

The balance testing goes... Relatively well. Better than Norm expected. Often patients get dizzy or nauseous during these tests but Spider doesn't seem to have those symptoms. His balance is clearly worse off than it had been in the forest, but Norm can't really trust that as a sign of cranial nerve damage. The boy is underfed, injured, and has an open wound. The fact that he can't hold his balance for thirty seconds without wavering on one leg is no surprise. He passes the head impulse test better than he did the Romberg test. 

"I haven't noticed anything off with my balance:" Spider says with a shrug, and they leave it at that.

Norm swipes the holo screen back to the picture of the brain. "Let's move on then. The nerves number nine and ten are the glossopharyngeal nerve which is shown in this beige color, and the vagus nerve right below in orange. These control the gag response, palatal articulation, and guttural articulation." 

"I still have the gag response:" Spider speaks up. He is leaning against Jake's side as Jake has now taken a seat next to him on the box and is holding the arm with the IV in it. 

"You do? Have you thrown up lately?" Norm asks, opening back up Spider's chart and starting to type in Spider's response.

"A couple of days ago. I just ate something bad, I got over it quickly. I wasn't sick or anything." Spider tries to brush the whole thing off, but Norm doesn't want to let the topic rest so quickly. 

"Do you know what you ate?" He asks. He wants to check the database to see if the food might have any lingering effects. He'd rather not have Spider throwing up food when he was so slim already. Best find ways to avoid that happening again. 

Spider shakes his head: "I had some human-safe fruit that had just touched something I shouldn't eat. Nothing dangerous or anything, like I said it passed fast and I've not noticed any problems after." 

Jake is frowning.

"Well, no need to test the gag reflex then. That's nice since it isn't the most pleasant thing." Norm mentions that he already tested Spider for this a bit by having him say aaah with a tongue depressor, but that they could still do some simple word repetition to be safe. He chooses to do it all in Na'vi, knowing it is Spider's preferred language. Maybe it would make the dull test more tolerable for the young boy. "Please repeat after me. Ka, kar, kam, pukap and mìkam." /across, teach, ago, six, between/

"Ka, kar, kam, mìkam." Spider repeats. He catches on to all the words including the 'ka' articulation.

Norm nods and writes something down on his datapad. "Did you hear me say pukap?" /six/

Spider frowns and without an answer, he repeats the word correctly. It must be hard for the boy to admit when he didn't hear something; the reality that this was something unfixable might be a bit too hard to face. Norm feels another twist of pity mixed in with compassion. 

"Spakat, fkarut, ngop, tsengo, rengop, fngo', ngong, ngopyu." /drown, peel, create, somewhere, design, demand, lethargic, creator/

Spider repeats, and with a concentrated look in his eye doesn't miss a word this time. He seems to have no issue pronouncing either the 'ka' or the 'go' articulation. 

"Nice job, you did just perfect Spider. Last two nerves Spider and these are very quick and simple, okay?" Norm reaches out to gently pat Spider's shoulder, hoping it'll be reassuring. 

Jake leans in to whisper something to the boy. 

For the last time, Norm turns his datapad around: "So the accessory nerve is at the bottom here. It's this grey and blue color." Spider isn't looking at the datapad, but Norm points it out anyway. He has Jake's full attention, even if the boy appears disinterested in the images of the cranial nerves. "And the hypoglossal nerve is this dark yellow honey color one above it. Isn't it strange how the accessory nerve is considered to come first even though placement-wise it should be the last one?" Norm's little interesting tidbit gets no reaction, so he awkwardly clears his throat and keeps going: "We technically tested both before and I saw no issues. So the first of the two controls a specific set of muscles and is tested by turning your head from side to side which you did just fine before and by shrugging your shoulders. I've already seen you do it once or twice but could you repeat the motion anyway?" 

Spider does, and just for good measure turns his head from one side to another steadily while he does it.

"Thank you Spider:" Norm smiles; he's more thankful these tests are almost over. "Then the last nerve works alongside the vagus nerve to move your tongue. For this I had you move your tongue side to side, and you did perfectly, but I'd also like a closer look at your tongue really quickly." Norm switches out yet another pair of latex gloves. "If you could take your mask off for just a second?" 

Spider sighs, takes off his mask, and sticks out his tongue. Norm looks for tongue atrophy and expectantly finds none present. He seeks for asymmetry but Spider's tongue looks just fine. Finally, he checks for fasciculations which would be involuntary, small jerky movements and thankfully Spider's tongue is relaxed and still. 

Norm helps seal Spider's mask back on. The boy doesn't really need any aid, but it feels like a fitting end to these tests. After a quick recap from Norm, as he inputs the rest of his notes into Spider's file, they settle into a more comfortable quiet. Spider seems a bit physically tense, waiting for another shoe to drop in the form of other tests.

Norm is very nervous about the next part. But through these tests, he's come up with a plan to find answers to hid more sensitive questions, and he just needs to ready up and do it: "Jake I'd like a minute alone with Spider:" Norm's pitch is one or two higher than normal, he speaks quickly a hint of nervousness obvious in his tone. 

Jake doesn't like it. It's evident in the way his eyebrows drop and his hand clutches Spider's just a tad tighter. "Why?" He asks, not accusingly, but with something aking to it.

Norm takes a few seconds to come up with an excuse: "I need to ask a few more personal questions, and I think Spider would be more comfortable without you being present. I skipped them in the annual check questions to keep him more comfortable."

Now Spider looks puzzled too, before a sense of realization dawns on his face and he groans. He knows exactly what Norm is alluding to. Are you sexually active, is your libido the same as it's always been? Those awkward questions that doctors start to ask as you become a teenager; the ones that make you uncomfortably blush and shift because it feels embarrassing to someone so young.

"Ah... Umm, yeah I'll just go fill my waterskin at the creek nearby. I'll be a short while." Jake cringes a tad, perhaps even glad to leave the two to their own privacy. "You okay with me going Spider?" 

"Yeah, yeah, go, go:" It's still just a groan as Spider leans his face against a hand he has propper up on his knee. 

Jake takes his leave, and Norm watches his back retreat until he estimates Jake can't hear him. Purely because it is his job and the questions can be important he goes through the quick version of these intrusive questions, writing down Spider's vague, short answers. But it's not all he wanted Jake to leave for. "Spider:" He begins. 

The boy looks at him now, his face is a tad flushed, and his eyes keep twitching somewhere else. Typical for an embarrassed kid. 

"I wanted to bring this up without Jake here. I'd like us to talk about your food intake for a bit:" Norm tries to keep his voice light and open. He turns his eyes to his datapad to alleviate the growing tension of the boy sitting up straighter and getting that reserved look again. Spider doesn't want to approach the topic, but Norm must.

"What about it?" 

"Well, according to some of the scans that I've taken you're a bit undernourished. Have you been eating enough?" Norm asks, swiping open one of the scans that had marked multiple nutritional issues red. 

Spider takes a moment to answer, he seems to really be thinking of his answer, or the lie he's coming up with. Either way, Norm doesn't like that this kid is having to think so hard about if he's been eating well. "I was bad with food for a bit, but I've been eating full meals now." He doesn't look at Norm, but the man doesn't detect any lie from him. He just looks like he's tired and totally over the topic already.

"It's good that you've been eating better now, but I'd like to know the reason why were eating poorly in the first place?" He keeps himself professional, not allowing too much inquisitiveness to appear in his tone or face. It's better to appear like a distant entity in this case. A person who would listen but might not actually forcibly try to fix the issue. That's how you get runners when people are dealing with a health issue related to mental welfare. They aren't ready to change things, and you spook them away by gripping on too hard. Without knowing the cause of this, it was hard for Norm to plan the correct approach. 

Spider starts speaking after a quick shrug of his shoulders: "The fruits and everything here are different. My body took time to adjust and I don't like the taste of fish." Spider's tone changes and a real chuckle enters it: "And like I said everything here tastes like fish or seaweed." 

"Ah, I see. So the food wasn't to your liking?" Norm notes it down and thinks ahead to his next question. He can't quite remember if Spider had ever claimed to not like fish before. He'd mumbled about it earlier today, but in the forest he'd eaten fish just fine.

"Nope, not even a little bit."

"And you say your body took time to adjust? What kind of symptoms were you having?" Norm taps at his datapad, ready to type. He doesn't end up getting the most clear answer. 

Spider looks nonchalant: "Just the generic symptoms of a human transitioning to Pandoran food." 

Norm's eyebrows scrunch up: "You are already accustomed to Pandoran food. It's practically all we've been able to get you to eat since you were a kid." It's true. Getting Spider to eat any human food that the lab guys have found ways to grow was damn near impossible. Some of the scientists practically refused to eat Pandoran food, but Spider was the opposite. He had a preference for the fresh flavors of Pandora and argued often that it was due to him being born here, and thus being Pandoran, that made him dislike human food so much. It's not for me, he'd say. 

"I was with captive to the RDA for months. I didn't exactly get to uphold a constant Pandoran diet. It was mostly human foods and ration bars." The explanation does hold up. "Now at Awa'atlu a lot of the food is new to me, and the adjustment period has restarted too."

It's the perfect bridge for Norm to gently approach one side of Spider's time with the RDA. No need to push if the boy brings it up first. But Norm only allows himself one question to try to leave those lanes open: "Did they feed you well when you were with them?" 

"I wasn't with them:" Spider's voice is bitter and he gives Norm an actual glare. "I was captive. There is a difference." 

Norm looks sorry. He grimaces quickly for his mess up and apologizes. "You're right, I'm sorry, Spider." 

Spider just props up a foot on the edge of the box so he can bring his knee up and then leans his chin on it. "They fed me fine. Though I doubt the food was as balanced as my normal diet in the forest." 

"Thank you for telling me. I'll note it down. How about I list side-effects that can occur during the transition to Pandoran food and you nod when I say something you've experienced within the last two weeks?" He glides off of the topic of the RDA easily enough and feels a tad accomplished that all he rose in Spider was anger at his wording instead of fear or a panic attack. That's a good sign. And since he didn't push to make Spider talk about it, the kid might willingly speak of his time there again in the future. 

Spider agrees and Norm starts to list things off. 

"Hives, nausea, stomach pains, diarrhea, fatigue, minor memory loss, fever, headaches, blurred vision, vomiting, difficulty swallowing, shortness of breath, tingling sensation, shivering..." The list is longer than Norm remembred, but thankfully Spider only nods a few times. "Anything you wanna add?" The boy shakes his head. "Alright then. And you say the symptoms you've been having are mainly gone now and you've been able to eat well again these past few days?" 

"Yes, Norm." 

"That's great. Do you think your diet has been varied enough?" He is still typing in notes but takes a peek at Spider behind his datapad. 

Spider is looking toward the sea and his gaze seems entirely lost within it. Norm follows that gaze and can't help but admit how beautiful the ocean of Pandora is. The water carries on for miles upon miles. You couldn't see other land anywhere, just the frothing waves, and the glimmering sun. Spider seemed utterly enraptured in it. His eyes are soft and there is a mild smile on his face. 

Norm has to call his name a few times before Spider actually turns to look at him again. 

"Um, yeah I'm getting there. It's a bit slow going, but that's what Jake asked the plant scanner for. So we can find more things that I can eat that are native here."

Norm smiles widely: "That's very good thinking on his part. I do see here that you have some vitamin deficiencies, but I'm sure those will be sorted out as soon as you get to scanning. Now about your weight loss..." He trails off, searching through his datapad for the scan that had noticed the estimated amount that the boy had lost.

"I didn't think it was that significant:" Spider mumbles before his eyes drift to the ocean again. 

Norm bites his lip quickly, trying to pick carefully what he says: "Well, from the scans it appears this happened rather rapidly. It's more in line with total lack of food than simple nutritional deficiencies." 

Spider's head snaps to him. His mouth is a tight line.

"I'm not saying you've been starving, I'm just saying we need to be swift and smart with how we get you back on food without complications. We want to amp up your fat and calorie intake as well as protein, and we want you to be eating often throughout the whole day instead of just two big meals." Norm scrambles the words together. He'd been too harsh with his words, he should have been more clever about it. Such an evident direct approach was clearly not the way to go.

"I can do that. Can I see the scanner?" 

"Oh, yes!" Norm turns to dig through the boxes till he spots what he's looking for. It feels so small in his hands. He'd picked up the human version for Spider for convenience. "So this is the scanner. You basically hold it here where the black grip is, and then you point this curved front side with the blue glass scanning part on it toward any plant, fruit, or even animal, and if our database recognizes it then it'll pop out a small holo screen and read out the information." 

Spider accepts the device and holds it limply. Norm corrects the boy's grip and then shows him where to press to start the scan. 

"Try it on me:" Norm encourages with a smile. He takes back a step and spreads his arms out to the sides. 

Spider points the scanner at him correctly and then begins to scan him. Lights turn on at the curved blue front from top to bottom in little dashes to show the progression of the scan. A robotic female voice speaks out, and Spider is actually a bit spooked by it, flinching back. "Avatar driver, estimated age twenty-two, known specimen Norm Spellman. Health state excellent, suitable for human consumption."

"What the fuck?" Spider looks a bit horrified until Norm begins to laugh. "Why would it say that?" 

Norm shrugs. "It should always tell you the species, estimated age, and health state of any animal, and if you can eat it or not. Technically Avatars are safe to eat." He chuckles, it's always a fun scare for people testing out the scanner for the first time. 

"That's disgusting. But this thing is pretty cool:" Spider settles to say as he turns the scanner around in his hands to look at it closer. He moves his fingers along the smooth edges, testing out the pliability of it, and testing the weight. "It recognized you." 

Norm nods, beginning to explain how the identification part of the scanner works: "...So that's why it'll recognize anyone who is in their original Avatars from when we were back with the RDA. It even recognizes Jake still if you scan him." 

Spider nods, and then a wicked, playful side of him grins: "The scanner said you're twenty-two! You're barely older than me!" 

Norm playfully shoves at Spider's shoulder. The atmosphere has so suddenly turned youthful and fun again. This was the part of Spider that he missed so much. "My Avatar is young, but my mind is all grown up. Unlike yours, you little shrimp." 

"I'd rather be a shrimp than a pruning rasin. Uhhuh, that's right I can make fun of you for being old too:" Spider smacks at Norm's hands, and puts the scanner down behind him. 

"That's no fair Spider. You have to pick one." 

"Two bodies, two ages, double the things to make fun of you for!" Spider laughs and they begin a regular back-and-forth.

It's casual and to Norm it feels just like old times. "Don't think I won't pull your ear for calling me pink! They're so big I won't miss and you know it." Spider defends after a couple more of Norm's quips. 

"In my defense you are pink."

"It's an old nickname let it die already!"

Spider ends up standing on the piled-up boxes with one arm extended out to not disturb the IV, while Norm looks up at him and jokes more about his box-booster seat.

"C'mon now Spider, sit back down I don't want you to trip:" Norm settles down the joking and grabs Spider's arm to help him down again. Spider flicks at Norm's ear on the way down and the man makes a face but doesn't hiss. He'd never picked up the habit the way that Jake and Spider had. It didn't feel natural to him, even in his Avatar body. Norm didn't seem to have the preprogrammed instincts in his Avatar body that some people just immediately gained when entering them for the first time. Grace had been the same, more human in her Avatar. Norm still missed her terribly.

"If I didn't have tubes up my arm I'd take you down right here Norm:" Spider squares up mockingly. It's a joke he's often made, but the two have never properly play-fought the way that Spider does with Jake's kids. It's just an empty treat, one that Norm always delivers back with some funny quip about being ready to fight. 

When Spider is properly seated again his posture slumps a bit too much, and he hisses at the aggravation of his wound. 

"That hurt kiddo? I don't think you should be throwing punches or flicking any ears right now." Norm nudges Spider up a bit and leans down to look at the wound, the little he can see over the clear coverings. It looks fine not any worse for wear, but it's best to be as careful as possible.

"You just watch. I'll be ready to fight in no time:" Spider would sound more believable if his voice didn't turn into a groan at the end. 

"Sure kiddo... Listen we still have to talk about something before Jake comes back." Norm throws a look over his shoulder in the direction where Jake had disappeared into the jungle. He'd be back soon, and Norm didn't wanna risk it.

Spider sighs, looks up at Norm through his lashes, and then asks for clarification. "We've already talked so much already. C'mon Norm, we were just playing around and now you're being a bummer." 

"Well. I'm a bummer because I am your doctor at this moment. And that needs to come before listening to you threaten physical harm upon my person." He nudges at Spider playfully, but with a clear expression on his face that tells the boy they are done playing for now. "If I'm just being straight and honest with you. Removing the necrosis from your wound is not going to be safe to do here. Like anywhere here. It's open surgery if the necrosis is deeper than it seems, and there aren't any sterile, aseptic environments here." 

Spider didn't know what aseptic meant, but he could guess from context: "I see..." 

Norm is quiet a moment, then reiterates the point he'd left unsaid: "We would need to take you out of Awa'atlu, and back to High Camp. You need a place where you can breathe actual air during the operation since anesthesia is risky enough on its own. And I've never really performed any surgery in my Avatar anyway, so I'd need that too... A place to breathe." 

Spider disbelievingly shakes his head. He's got a little smirk on his face that tells Norm the boy is getting frustrated. He doubts Spider is even aware that he does that look when he's had enough: "You make it sound like it was quick and easy to Jake."

Norm nods: "Because it might be. It probably is. But if we start, and then there are complications or it does need more advanced surgery we will be setting your life in danger." He hopes the boy understands, but he doesn't.

"I don't mind. I trust you, Norm." It warms the man's heart to hear Spider say that. Norm wishes trust was enough. 

He looks sadly at Spider: "You're failing to see my side. I wouldn't be able to take it if something went wrong. It'd be my fault because I'm too big in this body to hold a scalpel steady to your chest." It's a real worry, though Norm knows that the chance of it is infinitesimally minimal. The likeliness of complications, bacteria, and infections is a hundred times higher. All of them are legitimate concerns, but only one of them puts Norm at risk. The one where he'd have to mentally carry the weight of Spider's life on his consciousness. And Norm knows well enough that the boy will cave to that. Spider would rather leave Awa'atlu than perceive his own stubbornness as the reason for any of Norm's would-be anguish. 

Norm sees Spider's shoulders slump and he knows he's won. 

The kid starts rubbing his index finger and thumb together and stares at them. Norm feels a bit bad.

"Can't we fly in a mobile shack? That would have air." Before the RDA returned that request would have been so simple, but not now. Now it's a big ask, one that Spider doesn't fully understand. 

"Awh. I'd love to for you Spider, but the RDA would be on our asses as soon as we were above the treeline. We'd be too easy to spot. A sitting duck with a lot of weight on us. Can't maneuver to dodge or really shoot back either while transporting a shack." Norm speaks gently, seeking for eye contact, but the boy won't look at him. He doesn't doubt that this is a letdown to the boy. 

"Of course, yeah. I didn't think of that... Sorry:" He whispers the apology, and Norm takes Spider's hands to his own. He holds them softly, thumb wiping over the top of Spider's hand in what he hopes is a soothing pattern. 

"I've been trying to think of how we could make it work here, but we can't sanitize anything properly since everything in the village is in open air. And if we want to really understand your... Other ailments, like your brain damage, we would need equipment that we can't bring here. It all takes too much power. It's imperative to get better pictures of your head to really see what's going on. So even if we figured out a way to deal with the necrosis without taking you to High Camp, the brain scans are just... An impossibility here."

Spider's eyes slowly close. Norm feels terrible to be the messenger of bad news. He listens to the gushing of the sea and shifts his feet on the sand. The soles of his boots disappear into the sand from his weight.

"I just..." Spider's head lifts and then turns towards the ocean: "I just feel like I shouldn't leave this place. There's so much I've been planning to do, and I fear I'll let everyone down." 

Norm presses a hand to Spider's shoulder: "If anyone blames you for seeking proper medical care, then they aren't a friend worth having, and you owe nothing to them." Norm can see the fight within the boy. Spider understands why Norm is right, but wants to still argue. Maybe to make it feel more like he doesn't have a choice. If that's what will help the boy feel better then Norm can help him along. "You'd get to see the forest again. And I don't think that I as your doctor can in good consciousness leave you here. Spider as soon as I saw that wound I knew I was taking you with me to High Camp."

Spider glances at him briefly from the corner of his eye. Then resolution sets on his face. "Really?"

"Really. And besides I've noticed you are seeking a bit more personal space. It must be hard to have Jake breathing down your neck all of a sudden. His reactions to all of this haven't been the best, huh?" Norm tries to say the end with a playful tone. Honestly, he has no idea why he added the comment about Jake. It kind of just gets blurted out. "We'll fly back to the forest without him, and you can stay with me as long as you like." 

Spider doesn't acknowledge it. Norm doesn't know what he'd expected. He extends one last comforting word: "That can mean forever, you know that right Spider? Everyone at High Camp has missed you."

He reaches out to pat Spider's head, but he doesn't get the chance when his arm is suddenly snatched from the air and held back. 

"What the fuck did you just say to my damn kid, Norm?" Jake's voice is so eerily cold a chill creeps up Norm's spine. He has no clue how he didn't hear Jake approaching. It feels like the biggest oversight he's made today when he recognizes the thunderous expression on Jake's face. 

It's never been directed at him before. Norm swallows and his eyes follow as Jake extends his filled-up waterskin to Spider with his other hand; "For you my son." Even while restraining Norm by the arm, he doesn't forget what he'd briefly left for in the first place.

"I guess I shouldn't have left you alone with him, huh?" Jake actually chuckles, but his voice is so dead. Norm can't tell if he's trying to appear nonchalant because they are friends, or if he's actually doing this to unnerve him. If it's the first the man is failing. If it's the second, he is being immeasurably successful. He'd never been afraid of Jake, but now for the first time, he actually might be. You don't step in between Jake and his children. You don't step between any Na'vi Parent and their children. And if Spider was in fact accepted by Jake then Norm had just broken a cardinal rule and gotten caught red-handed. Even if he was doing it for Spider's sake in his own mind. 

He didn't have the right. Spider wasn't an unclaimed child. He was Jake's. 

"Jake I'm-" 

"Nuhhuh:" He says it with such a non-aggressive tone. Norm still attempts to take a step back. "I think you've said enough. Spider tell me everything he told you." 

Chapter Text

Spider sits with the side of his forehead pressed against the glass windows of the Samson. He's on the co-pilot's seat, though he isn't allowed to touch the controls. He thinks Norm just didn't wanna lock him in the back all alone. He can see a bit of himself blurrily reflected from the window. They've been flying just about two hours by his estimate, and the sun is finally beginning to set. The sound of the rotor blades turns into a background hum. 

He'd not even gotten to see the sunset one last time at Awa'atlu or dip his feet in the ocean. He'd wanted to say goodbye to the sea, but he'd felt too self-conscious to do so in front of Jake and Norm.

He'd he'd asked to go apologise to Tuk for missing another playdate, but Jake had said Tuk would understand. She would not. She was probably having a massive temper tantrum right about now. Spider felt guilty for it; this was the second day in a row that he'd been forced to bail on her due to his health. Poor Tuk is probably feeling so let down. The thought really hurt. Spider had been so determined to deal with his straining muscles and depleting energy levels to have a nice, fun day with her. Now he wasn't sure when he'd see her next.

They'd left for High Camp in such a rush as soon as Jake had agreed to Norm's plan. Spider had a feeling Norm had been worried Jake would change his mind.

The man had been so angry, all through Spider's explanation of his conversation, before he just settled on looking despairing when Norm gave more details. And just like Spider had caved to seeing how necessary it was for Spider to go; so did Jake. 
Norm had used a different tactic with Jake, entirely focused on centering his arguments around Spider's health, and all the dangers that would come with him staying at Awa'atlu without the best treatment. He needs more than just you and I. There isn't a safe space to operate. What if we can help him at High Camp? Make a plan for at least some modicum of improvements or recovery from his brain damage. We might be missing something big. You saw how blurry the scans are, I can't do more than educated guesses, Jake. He isn't safe here. We're only losing daylight while we fight when he should already be in the Samson on his way to get the necrosis dealt with.

So many reasons. Overwhelmingly many. 

Jake was entirely broken up by the time he gave a small nod and agreed to go. 

But he wasn't in the Samson with Spider and Norm. He'd said he'd be here every step of the way. That he wouldn't leave Spider alone. That they'd figure this all out together. Jake had made those promises, and now Spider has only Norm for company, and Jake isn't a step behind to travel with them to answers. Because that's what was waiting at the end of this flight. Real, concrete answers about what was going on with his head. 

It was terrifying.

Oh, but how sweetly he'd promised. For a moment Spider had actually believed him. Thought that if he needed to go to High Camp then Jake would come too. 

But Jake had lifted him into the Samson once it was packed up and ready to go, and Spider's arm had gauze around the IV drip needle to secure it for flight. Spider had turned around to watch Jake climb in after him and Norm, but the man slid the door closed instead. And Spider was left staring at nothing but dark metal. 

There was a pressure in his chest. One that was not from the wound. That had stopped hurting some time after the injection. Now it was just his heart that clenched and twisted. He knew he should have kept his distance. But Jake had been there, and he'd needed someone so he'd leaned into his side, and held his hand, and allowed himself to be comforted. Now he was kicking himself for it and paying the price. 

He lets out a sigh, and from the reflection of the window, he could see Norm turning his head to look at him. Spider didn't have the highest trust in Norm as a pilot. He'd heard the stories about when Norm had been forced to fly the first few times. Apparently, he put in hundreds of hours on the Avatar driver simulator, but not nearly as many on the chopper-flying one.

"Eyes on the skies, Norm:" Spider says. He means to be playful and daunting, but it just comes out sounding sad. He sees Norm's pitiful look and turns to look straight ahead to cut off even just the reflection of that expression.

"You know everyone at the base has missed you:" Norm sounds hopeful, that slight elevation in his voice that Spider recognizes from before. 

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah. We were all very distraught when... You know. Many of us wanted to go after you, but we weren't allowed." Spider's fist clenched. Yeah, he could tell who that order had come from. As much as he understood it, and preferred it even that no one risked their lives for him, hearing that they'd not even been allowed to try was a cut on his feeble faith in those he'd love to call family.

Spider expands his legs out in front of the chair. He hates these seats. They're scratchy and too tough under him. He can practically feel the metal skeleton of the seat through the padding. "That's for the best. You would have never pulled it off." Spider sounds harsh, even though it wasn't his intention. He holds no grudge about it nor any animosity, but some nasty emotion still made its way into his voice.

"We should have still tried:" Norm whispers on an exhale. The leather of the controls creaks as his hands clench against them. "If it helps, the whole place went to hell pretty much immediately."

Now that's curious. Spider turns his head to look at the man, he sees the slight curve of Norm's lip. Suddenly Spider is in the mood for conversation: "What do you mean?" 

"The first morning around 4 am this alarm started blaring. Loudest thing I've ever heard in the labs-" Norm sounds both amused and aggravated. 

Spider begins to laugh quietly. It's a freeing feeling to just be able to chuckle along. For once he isn't hurting anywhere, and can actually shake with mirth without aching. 

"-It just kept blaring and blaring for a straight hour. Woke everyone up. And you know how grumpy people at base get when they don't get to sleep. By the thirty-minute mark, everyone was at each other's throats." Norm shakes his head, smiling and casting a glance at Spider. Spider certainly does know. As a kid, he'd more than once been a bit rambunctious and loud in the mornings and ended up getting yelled at for interrupting someone's sleep. Sleepiness and humans don't go well together. 

"That's hilarious."

"And it kept happening!" Norm explains, throwing his hands in the air for a moment, before gripping the controls again when the Samson jolts. "Every damn morning at 4 am and we couldn't figure out why." 

"No one ended up just bashing in the sound system?" Spider lifted his brow, still chuckling a tad. He knew how temperamental some of the scientists were, and the fact that the alarm hadn't become the collateral damage of someone's morning wrath was a miracle in its own right. He could think of more than a few people at High Camp who tended to strike and think later.

"Nope. We need it too much. It lets us know about most functions on the base. Power, oxygen levels, doors opening, threats outside, and so on:" Norm starts droning on about how important the speaker system is at base, and how they really shouldn't have it all hooked up to one system. Apparently, there was a plan that the engineers were going to start soon to separate some of the sound systems and to have backups for them too. Spider can't believe that the alarm was causing such measures to be taken. At least an oversight had been noticed on the base due to it. So some good came of it.

"How long did it take you to figure out how to turn it off?" Spider thought back to the red switch on the wall. The one he woke up early to flip each day. It was in a rather obvious spot and not hard to miss, but surely he'd get a good laugh out of knowing how long their blight had lasted. 

Norm just stays quiet; he looks a tad flushed. 

"Norm?" 

Still silence. 

Spider's eyes widen: "Noooo, you're joking."

Norm awkwardly rubs the back of his neck: "Yeah, we didn't figure it out. It still does its thing each morning. We did manage to somehow make it flip on later at 5 am. Some of us just stay awake till 6 am when it stops and then goes to bed." 
Spider doesn't know if he should cringe or laugh. Maybe even feel sorry for the poor bastards. He lets out a strange sound as a mixture of all three. "That's rough." 

"Yeah. And it got worse:" Norm sighs. He slumps in his chair a bit. 

"Impossible." 

Norm just keeps nodding: "It did. There was a leak upstairs from one of the appliances and the water caused damage to something so we not only lost lights but had to use the emergency generators for two days."

"But when the emergency generators flip on-" Spider starts before Norm cuts him off. 

"Yup. The alarm rang the whole two days nearly non-stop until one of the maintenance guys got everything fixed and we got standard power back on:" Norm makes a face at the memory, no doubt the alarm still echoes in his head. "I think Max cried for almost half of the second day. He just got so tired of the sound and you know how he has that thing about going outside." 

"Awh, poor Max:" Spider says, and he really does feel bad, even if the small smile he is trying to keep at bay doesn't look like it.

Norm glances at him, and smirks a bit: "It's okay to laugh. It is kind of funny now when I think back on it. But it did take a long time for it to be funny. A long, long, long time."

Spider can't help but cackle. It sounded terrible, and he'd been meaning to fix that freezer upstairs. Can't really do that from an RDA cell though. "I'm so sorry:" He says from in-between laughter. "I can't believe the whole High Camp filled with tech people, scientists, electrical workers, and engineers can't figure out how to turn off an alarm. I feel so bad for you bastards having to deal with what it's like for us average-intelligence people."

"You sure have a way of showing it:" Norm's lip quirks and Spider knows the man can see the hilarity in this as well. Norm reaches out to shove Spider lightly to silence him playfully. Spider covers his mouth to muffle his lowering laughter.

"Anything else cool happen?" He asks a few minutes later. He's propped up a foot on top of the seat so he can lean against his own leg. 

Norm shugs: "High Camp is much more boring without you." 

Spider can't help but slightly smile. Even if the scientists weren't his family it was nice to know that his vacancy had been noticed. They maybe even missed him a bit. Norm sure seems to have with how sweetly he keeps smiling at Spider. Sometimes the man's eyes flash to his chest wound or the covered-up IV needle; quickly assessing if he needs to land and administer any medical aid. It's nice to have an obvious reminder that someone is looking after him.

They fly low. Lower than normal. Apparently, you are in less danger of being spotted by the RDA that way; both from their radars and from patrolling aircrafts. The sky lights up fully orange; Spider had almost forgotten how beautiful sunsets were from the tops of trees or the back of an Ikran. It was better when the sun disappeared over the edge of the sea, sinking into it slowly like a golden giant. But... This is pretty nice too. 

When they see the familiar trees of the forest line Spider straightens up. Something on his chest lightens just a tad. This place is familiar. The forest had been home for so long; not High Camp, not Hometree. Just the forest. Seeing it again gave Spider butterflies as if he was some preteen with a crush. 

"Welcome home Spider:" Norm says, his voice breathy like some storybook narrator. He smiles at Spider and Spider smiles back. He takes his time looking out of each window of the Samson. He doesn't know the area of the forest this close to the ocean at all. This was too far from Hometree and High Camp for him to go explore. He'd never make it back before nightfall. But some bits still seemed so familiar. From above the forest looked like it was made with a stamping tool, with areas appearing identical; treetops shielding the wonderous, unique world below. 

Spider gets lost in the view. 

"Actually:" Norm speaks up after some time. "Something interesting did happen about a week after the Sully's left."

After the Sully's left. Interesting wording to choose. It was like Norm was trying to avoid having to say after your kidnapping. Spider doesn't know if he appreciates it, or if he just feels slighted. 

"Mo'at showed up at the labs with fruit and herbs and other things. She said we were about to run out of food, so she brought more." Spider sneaks a glance at the man, Norm looks a tad nervous. "I thanked her and accepted of course to be polite, but I didn't think she was right. Then just to be safe with how everything had been getting all messed up, I decided to check on the walk-ins. And she was right." 

"Oh?" Spider humms. He looks back out of the window properly. Darkness is falling. Almost all of the light rays have disappeared from the sky. Norm flies so close to the treeline that it's unnerving. 

"I don't know how she knew, but she let us know in time that we were able to make trips to gather more. When I asked around on base about who'd dropped the ball on collecting Pandoran food, it turned out someone had delegated that task to you two years ago." There is a tightness to the man's voice, but Spider knows his reserved anger isn't towards him. 

Spider swallows, and to keep up a facade that this didn't bother him he shrugs right after.

"Kiddo I didn't know people had dumped that all on you. It must have been rough to gather so much." Norm sounds sorry. His voice is careful and sincere. Spider appreciates the apology though it isn't necessary.

He tells that to Norm too. "Besides, I've gotten very good at it. It barely takes me any time, it's a very easy chore for me." 

"Doesn't mean it's right for a child to provide food for so many people at the base. Sure what we grow ourselves is most of what we eat, but the amount of Pandoran food we keep in stock is substantial. And I set up the whole walk-in for you anyway when you swore off human food. It was supposed to ensure you wouldn't have to harvest your own food." Norm sighs, he sounds tired and Spider wonders how little sleep the man must have gotten lately. At least his Avatar body might be a bit more awake than his human one. Doesn't help with his brain controlling the thing being exhausted, but still-

Norm starts talking about how he'd always worried Spider would accidentally eat something poisonous in the forest while Spider just smiles to himself like a crazy person. He hadn't known the Pandoran food walk-in had been started for him. That was terribly nice of Norm, and generally speaking probably one of the nicest things anyone had ever done for him. His foster family had been so mad when he'd told them he was done eating human food and would eat with the Sully's or straight from the forest from then on. He'd had a physical with Norm some weeks after and boom, suddenly the walk-in had been set up.

Had there been similar signs as to now about nutritional deficiencies when Spider had been a kid? Had Norm picked up on the fact that he'd not been eating enough since he'd taken on the task of fully providing for himself at such a young age? Maybe Norm had seen signs about his shitty home life and decided to ensure he had a safe space to find food from. Norm had always told him there would forever be a place for Spider with the scientists. Never had he offered himself as a father figure for Spider, though now Spider kind of wished he would have. 

Norm speaks on and on about how much he appreciates that Spider has provided for them for so long and promises that he won't have to work so hard anymore. The role of gatherer had been put back on the slackers who'd left the task in Spider's hands in the first place. 

Spider blinks lazily. With good company, the seat isn't so shitty anymore. Norm's voice is so steady he can almost imagine a youth spent as Norm's son. He's certain he would have been happy. He'd definitely be smarter than he was now. He'd have known the cranial nerves by age ten if Norm had been his father. He'd be all hoity-toity and book smart from watching Norm do all those experiments, maybe getting to be an extra pair of hands every once in a while. He'd never cared for the labs, but maybe he would have if he'd been there to learn from a father. 

He shakes the thought away when Norm asks him a question: "Do you know how Mo'at was aware we'd run out of food? And don't say she's the Tsahìk so Eywa told her. That's your reply to everything when it comes to Mo'at."

Spider smirks a tad and sarcastically says: "She's the spiritual leader of the clan so our divine deity told her." 

Norm rolls his eyes, but chuckles: "You're a menace you know that right?" He reaches over to pat Spider's head.

Spider knows. 

The rest of the flight is peaceful and calm. They see no signs of other choppers or RDA scouts. It's almost relaxing to be in the Samson, though Spider prefers to fly on an Ikran. Something metal in the sky was unnatural and unreliable. Ikran belonged in the skies. 

The calmness slips away when Norm briefly mentions Jake. The hurt and ache returns to Spider. 

They land on a covered-up ledge at High Camp. Spider actually feels his heart in his throat when seeing how tight of a squeeze it is. Norm lands surprisingly steadily, whipping to smile at Spider brightly right after, boasting about how much better he'd gotten at flying lately. He just gets an amused scoff from Spider as a response.

When they hop out of the Samson, Norm helps Spider out and carries his IV bag for him. He keeps his free hand tightly on Spider's back, to hold him steady on his feet. 

The Halleluja mountains are as gorgeous a sight as ever. The moss-covered rocks feel familiar under his feet, there's a howling wind that lets out a high-pitched sound when it finds a crack in the rocks to blow through. When it comes to nature here; everything is the same.

Just a year earlier the sight of the labs and mobile shacks tucked into the rocks of the Halleluja mountains had looked so natural. Not beautiful, with their grey exterior, yellow railings, and dim spotlights; but natural anyway. Like they belonged in between the Na'vi Maruis that had more natural orange fire lights blazing within. Once night fell they needed to minimize light around the entrance areas to not get spotted, so the Maruis near the centers of the caves were luckiest; getting to have the most light. Those Maruis glew just as they had in the forest before the Omatikaya had to flee to the floating mountains.

Now that Spider has seen the Metkayina lands, untouched by humanity, with no metal in sight, other than his mask, he can see how wrong the human-made buildings here are. The fact that they exist on Pandora seems like a crime. A wrongdoing against Eywa and this beautiful land.

"Where are the scouts?" Spider asks, whispering since the Na'vi have already retreated to their homes to rest and eat together. He doesn't wish to disturb them, nor to be seen with an IV drip on since it would be sure to draw looks.

Usually, a few armed Na'vi warriors and a scientist or two would patrol between the homes, keeping an eye out for any trespassers, while others blended into the crevice entranses, looking out for RDA choppers; ready to alert the tribe if need be. Now none were present, at least from what Spider could see. 

"Well Spider, Jake's plan worked. As soon as it became obvious to the RDA that the Sullys were gone we were less of a problem in their eyes. Without Jake to lead we are hitting their conveys less and less. Honestly, the more time that passes, the more we are just in hiding." Norm sounds a bit sad, though Spider can't imagine that he'd be upset to not have to fight as much. Norm did have a calm, peaceful soul even if he was a strong fighter at the frontlines when need be. "We can't keep losing people. Fighting against the RDA has turned into just protecting the tribe."

"Don't feel bad about that Norm. You and the new Olo'eyktan are still saving Na'vi lives whenever you choose not to attack. Sometimes the fight just isn't on your side, and you'd lose more than you'd gain from the conflict." Spider keeps his voice soft, even as he grimaces when he needs to essentially hop down from a little rocky ledge onto a metal path. It creaks and then thunders around the cave as they walk along it.

"I see you've been listening to Jake:" Norm chuckles, but a thud of guilt mixes in with Spider's sadness. 

He didn't learn strategy from Jake. He learned it from his father. The thought of Quaritch seems even more like a sin here, where the majority of his crimes were committed. In the midst of the families that lost countless members because of him. His body tremors involuntarily and he shakes the thought away. 

"Who's the new Olo'eyktan anyway?" The kid asks, looking up at Norm who trails just a step behind him.

"Oh, it's Tarsem." 

Spider nods in understanding, softly smiling: "He is young and strong, but wise as if he's lived many lives already." He understands the choice. Tarsem was always a part of the attacks against the RDA. He had a mind for strategy, and hand-to-hand combat as well as mastery of many weapons. He knew when to strike and when to give leeway. He'd taken the time to enter the labs on multiple occasions to learn to use some human technology that might end up being helpful and studied RDA weapons and aircrafts alike. He knew the strength in understanding your enemy and had no fear of humanity.

"That's practically what Jake said, except you said it far more poetically:" Norm laughs, and Spider gently shoves at him. "I'll come listen to your slam poetry at open mic night tomorrow. Oh, mine nameth be Spider and I loveth Pandora, oh Eywa, oh Eywa." Norm speaks like the humans of old, mocking some accent or speech pattern he'd heard in an old movie. 

Spider doesn't understand, but he knows Norm is making fun of him and tells him to cut it out before someone hears. "And if you want to use Eywa's name then at least make the poem good. That was terrible." 

"Hey, that's not my fault. It's your poem Spider." 

"Ugh, I'm gonna get back at you for that Norm:" Spider groans and rolls his eyes. He feels normal, and that's abnormal these days. He watches as Norm puts in a code to a keypad near the big entrance door and they enter the airlock. Norm grabs an airmask that's big enough for a Na'vi. He hangs it around his neck. 

Lucky bastard Spider thinks as he listens to the woosh of the air changing in the room. Even in Avatar form, Norm could breathe fine in the human-safe air. He just needed a breath through a small mask that only covered the nose and mouth whenever he felt dizzy or short of breath. That way he could avoid getting a headache. With how often he'd tinker with something in Avatar form he'd been able to push his limits and could go up to an hour without needing to take a breath of Pandoran air before he got a headache. 

Na'vi bodies were amazing. They could adapt so swiftly. 

Taking off his mask feels like heaven when the second door of the airlock opens to the main area of the building. It's round and lit up with white and blue halogens. "Mmmhmm air:" Spider says as he takes a deep breath, glad to be rid of the sounds of his wooshing mask. 

"Pretty nice huh?" Norm says as he gestures around. "Home sweet home, you must love being- Oh." He stops mid-sentence as he looks at Spider. Slowly his eyes widen. 

"What? Is there something on my face?" Spider asks, rubbing over his face with the hand that didn't have the IV in it.

Norm breaks into a chuckle, but he tries to muffle it with his hand. "Spider. Um." He just can't seem to get words out. Even in the middle of the boy's name, he breaks into a giggle. "You have tanlines from your mask."

"What?" Spider asks, immediately horrified and panicked. He spots a small mirror on the wall and after grabbing his IV bag from Norm he rushes over. He hasn't seen himself from anything other than an ocean reflection in ages, and by Eywa does he look terrible. 

He's burnt all over, even on his face; something he hadn't noticed before. He has eyebags, and his bones seem more jutting than normal. He's lost a bit of muscle mass and doesn't look as strong as he used to. Those were all things people wouldn't laugh at though. The big, nearly oval-shaped loop of unburnt skin that went across his forehead, down the side of his face, and beyond to under his chin looked damn ridiculous. 

His face practically had a circle shape burned into it. The only bit of skin on him that wasn't sunburnt made him look like a clown. Spider frowns and groans in embarrassment: "I've gotta walk along the labs like this Norm!" 

Norm can't hold his laughter in anymore, and actually slaps his knee as if this is the most hilarious thing he's ever heard or seen. 

"It looks like there's a target on my face! It's not funny Norm:" Spider whines and moans as he complains, actually slamming his foot down like a toddler having a tantrum. The fact that Norm's eyes got moist from how fun he was having did nothing to lessen Spider's annoyance. 

That's when he spots a red switch, almost covered by a stack of equipment boxes, and immediately knows how to wipe that smirk off of Norm's face.

His face twists into a shit-eating grin as he turns properly to Norm. "Oh. That's funny, huh? Laughing at my pink face? I can show you the best joke of all and I promise you Norm you will never laugh again." Spider starts to chuckle slowly. He makes the threat with a jokey voice, but his eyes have a sly look to them.

Norm wipes at his eyes as a few laughs still escape him: "Oh, is that right? I'm pretty sure I'll keep laughing at this for days."

Spider smiles even bigger as he walks over to the switch: "Hmm, I don't believe that." Norm crosses his arms as he follows Spider with his eyes. He watches as Spider pushes one of the boxes aside. "Have you ever noticed this little red switch here?" Spider asks, pressing a finger to it, but not quite flicking it yet. He wants to draw this out. Norm shakes his head, but he is still smiling. "Do you know what it does?" Spider asks, the look in his eyes sharpening.

"I'm guessing you're about to tell me, and it'll be really underwhelming because you're overselling it." 

"Let's find out:" Spider flips the switch and then begins to laugh when the alarm begins to blare through the labs. It's so loud Spider almost can't hear people beginning to angrily yell from different hallways and rooms. They're alone by the entrance, but clearly not alone in the building. 

Norm's eyes widen as he throws his hands up to cover his Na'vi ears after he pins them against his skull. He keels over a tad and bites his teeth together. As soon as Spider flips the switch again to shut off the alarm Norm springs back up, shock clear on his face. 

For a few seconds, he just stares at Spider, mouth hanging open, eyes big and wide. And then Spider hears Norm say something he never thought he'd hear: "Motherfucker!" 

Chapter Text

"Fucking, fuckity, fuck, fuck! It was right there this whole time? Mo-ther-fu-cker! You better be shitting me Spider. Tell me you're fucking around right now!" Spider doesn't think he's ever heard anyone cuss that much. It sounds extra vile and weird out of Norm's mouth. 

"Nope. It's been right here, this whole time. You could have shut it off at any moment:" Spider can't stop himself from smiling a tad still, seeing that Norm isn't really upset at Spider, but rather at his own stupidity. It's a rare sight, one that you must take in like a rare natural phenomenon. It's like finding a field of blooming txumpaywll. /scorpion thistle/ For once in his life Norm is entirely caught off guard and totally dumbfounded. 

Spider almost feels bad as Norm's shock turns into mirth. Almost. Norm begins to laugh with Spider, and actually walks over to hug him tightly, while he shakes with laughter. It's such a strange bizarre moment. Spider can hear footsteps approaching from all around. 

"This means I don't have to wake up to that stupid fucking alarm ever again! This is amazing." Norm sounds genuinely relieved, and Spider reaches up to pat him on the back. 

As a last laugh, Spider tells him: "You have to turn the alarm off by flipping the switch before it starts to ring every. single. morning."

And just like that Norm looks sour again. 

"Well. Was it underwhelming?" Spider asks, raising a brow and looking rather happy with himself. He'd briefly wondered on the flight over how he'd break the news that he knew how to turn off the alarm, but now he was unbelievably happy that he hadn't jumped the gun and just told him right then and there. This was much better. Norm's face has been so priceless.

Norm shakes his head: "I've gotta say that was not at all what I was expecting." People begin to pile into the room. Most of the scientists are wearing their lab coats, but the pilots and mechanics are in rougher camo gear. Everyone is grumpy for the first few seconds groaning at Norm about the alarm and asking if there was an issue. Some polite welcome-backs and generic questions arise too. Norm tries to deal with the people, answering a few questions here and there.

There are five entrances to the round entry room they are in, two of them being stairs leading up to the second floor. At least a few people enter through each one so they end up being like canned sardines; very minimal space.

"Hi, Spider!" Says Katherina, she's a decent pilot and spotted Spider from behind Norm. 

"What the hell set the alarm off Norm?" Someone asks. "Oh, Spider good to see you back." 

"Hey, guys get in here, Spider's back!" 

"Are you staying?" 

"You don't look too well. Glad to have you here anyway." 

"How are you Spider?" 

"Spider! Hello!" 

"Here have some water Spider. You've got something on your face by the way."

"That's a nasty sunburn you got going on." 

"Hiya! Did the flight here go alright?" 

It's a bit overwhelming to have so many people on him at once. They keep some distance, no doubt seeing that he's a bit worse for wear from the dressings around the scar and the IV tubing. Spider does his best to reply to everyone, greeting people and smiling awkwardly. He feels like some of these people have never spoken to him before, and yet suddenly they're all interested to see if he's alright or not. It feels a tad... Forced? Like the people here felt guilty looking at him and thus acted overly friendly. Still, at least a few people feel genuinely joyful, starting to cheer and even erupting in clapping which makes Spider just blush and stutter.

"Give him some space guys, Spider's had a long day:" Norm says, reaching out his hands to give people signals to back off. "The alarm was an accident, we can talk about it at the morning briefing tomorrow. Now spread off, and someone send Max to medical if you see him, please." 

The people awkwardly shuffle about, a woman hands Spider an unopened water bottle. People are leaving the room with goodbyes and other chatter. "Back to work maintenance team:" Kerri calls out, she's the lead mechanic of the base, and she's always been decently nice to Spider. She pats his arm quickly before she goes, jokingly quipping at Spider: "You need a shower, boy." 

"There are no showers where I flew in from. What's your excuse?" Spider playfully retorts back.

"Ha ha! Witty as ever! And my excuse is engine grease and a love for climbing into the vents." 

He's left alone with Norm, who carefully takes his IV bag and notes that they need to switch it since it's nearly out.

"Do I even need a second bag?" Spider asks, starting to follow Norm through the hallways. He knows they're going into medical, but doesn't exactly look forward to the beds there, even if he is tired. Medical has crinkly sheets that are loud if you dare move even an inch. 

"Well you are a tad dehydrated so I'd like to keep one dripping through the night:" Norm pulls out his datapad from the inside pocket of his vest. "So the plan is to let you rest in the med ward for a while. I'll get you a nice hot meal and then you can sleep a bit or just lay down. I'll catch up the medical team about your wound and then we will set up the surgical room. Once we are all ready we'll come get you, make you as comfortable as possible, and then surgically remove the necrosis."

"So it'll be done today?" Spider says, moving aside and nodding at Henrik from the science department who quickly greets him in passing. 

"Evening Henrik. Yes, it'll be done today. Like I said the quicker the better:" Norm taps something on the datapad, but Spider can't make out what he's doing. Norm reaches out to hit a button on the wall that makes a heavy door slide over. 

Spider blinks from how much brighter the medical ward is. Bunk beds are lining the walls, with a long table surrounded by a mismatch of random chairs in the middle of the room. "You can pick any bed you'd like. Feel free to sit while I set up the next IV bag." Norm walks off and Spider picks the bunk furthest from the door. 

He sits down on it and cringes at how the bedframe rattles. The bolts need some oil. The sheets are exactly the same grating material as he remembers. He looks up, only seeing the metal frame of the top bunk above him, and sighs. He'd never liked being in this room but it seemed somehow worse now, quiet and lonely. Zero chance that one of the Sully kids might blast through the doors to keep him company while he's ill or injured.

Soon Norm is by his side again, working quietly to switch the IV bag. It doesn't take long, and he brings over a new IV pole to hang it from. 

"I'll go put my Avatar to rest and then come back with your food alright?" Norm says, offering a comforting smile to Spider before he crouches down by the bed and checks on the gauze and the needle. It seems to not have moved under the bandages and Norm opts to leave those on so that the needle won't shift or come loose if Spider chooses to sleep. He pats Spider's arm and then leaves; the door whooshing open, and then closing leaves Spider all alone. Norm turned off the lights as he left, and now the room is mainly dark, only illuminated by the emergency exit signs. 

Spider rubs his eyes. It feels so good to be able to touch his face properly for once. The mask has started to feel more and more like a curse. Being without it is bliss. 

He wonders what the Sullys are doing. Tuk's bedtime has passed and they've probably eaten already. Despite the ration bars that Spider ate on the beach his stomach churns. 

He pulls back the covers on the bed and settles under them, uncaring if he's dragging in a bit of sand or dirt. The sheets do smell kind of fresh, and they feel cool on his skin. Not that bad all in all. He stares up and makes sure to find a good position for the arm that has the IV on it. 

Spider can't help but think of Jake. His bottom lip quivers from the rushing disappointment that he was actually back in the forest, and yet all alone. He'd hoped he'd see this place again someday, but he'd rather thought he'd travel here with the Sully's. Saying goodbye to Kiri and Lo'ak at their home, walking away as Neytiri lights the fire for their evening meal. Hearing the loving greetings that Jake throws at his kids as they arrive to eat. He'd sleep in his own tiny room instead of in the medical ward. Maybe see Mo'at embrace her family as they return. It would have been a joyous occasion, even if he simply watched from the sidelines. 

He seems unable to relax his face. Too upset and disappointed to stop the scrunching of his eyebrows or the moisture that gathers and blurs his vision. He lays a palm flat against the covers, smoothing them down and focusing on the feel of the fabric. 

It only made sense that Jake would choose to stay with his family, besides Spider would have Norm and Max for the procedure. That was good enough. He couldn't complain. His emotions disagreed, a sense of saddened betrayal creeping in even as he saw more and more reasons why Jake needed to stay at Awa'atlu. The usual method of telling himself it was okay to be forgotten, and that Jake had a lot to handle wasn't helping to make him feel better. 

Someone bringing a blade to his wound, even if it was to chisel away some dread flesh was scary. And they'd knock him out for the duration of it too. That did not feel safe. He can't defend himself if he's chemically asleep.

His eyes start slipping shut. He can see beads of water gripping onto his eyelashes. He's still enough that the bed and the covers don't creak anymore. It's just quiet, only a few machines in the room making any sound. 

He suddenly feels like he's sinking into the thin mattress, and his bones are heavy and hard to move. He's so tired. He's so hurt. He's so overlooked. He can deal with it. Just like the other times. 

Sleep takes Spider so softly that he doesn't even notice when it happens. He just knows he blearily wakes up to Norm injecting something into the IV bag, and then soothingly whispering at him. He has no idea what the man says, only that he feels comforted that someone else is in the room. 

He dreams of Ikrans flying in the skies before they turn into Samsons that flip and spin in the air just as the banshees do. Only one of the Ikrans stays in its original form; Cupcake. At some point in the dream Spider is standing in one of the Samsons, and the side door is open. The wind whips at him, but not as harshly as it should in those altitudes. Cupcake is below him, chirping in the air, looking up at him. The rotor blades of the choppers all around are entirely quiet and it seems unnatural. He lets go of the Samson and leaps onto Cupcake's back. 

He's alone on it, but he can feel someone behind him anyway. A ghostly figure; tall and sturdy, unwilling to let him fall. It's safe there. Safe and beautiful as the sun rises on the horizon. 

A great shadow crosses over him, one that all Na'vi know to fear. Spider looks up and sees the Great Toruk, red and deep yellow against the skies. Jake is on its back, but he doesn't look down to see Spider. The Toruk flies lower until they are side by side. A kite is strung from its tail and trails behind as it flies, twisting and twirling like a contorting snake. Holding on by a frail white string that looks like it will break soon.

Cupcake suddenly plummets down, turning to a vertical position, tucking its winds against its body. Spider can't get any words out, just watches as the forest floor approaches, faster every second. The second they crash to the ground Spider breaches the surface of unsettled waters, gasping for air. He isn't wearing his mask and yet he breathes massive lungfuls of air. He props his knee up on the rock he is clambering onto, then grabs something big and soft around his neck, and throws it off.

Cupcake is fine as ever on the rock as if she hadn't just nosedived off of the skies. Quaritch is tightening the saddle on Cupcakes' back. He looks oddly at peace under the setting sun. He has no scars or bruises from the battle, even though they are on the rock they separated on after it. 

"Where are your weapons?" Spider asks, taking a few steps to approach his father. It's glaringly obvious that there isn't a gun or a knife on the man. Every holster on his body is empty. 

"What weapons, son?" He asks as if the question is funny somehow. He's still focused on the Ikran, moving a hand to pet its neck the same way Spider had seen him secretly do before. Now he does it openly, petting in a long streamline along its neck, no care for who sees him be this gentle with something living. 

Spider falls quiet. Something is telling him to turn around so he does. He sits on the edge of the rock and leans down to plummet his head into the water. It's cold, freezing really, and still, he looks around. He spots Jake, swimming in from the right, Neytiri trailing close behind. They turn around to look at their kids, who are just a few moments behind, smiling and swimming together. Neteyam is there. Spider trails the older Sully sibling with his eyes as if he's never seen something as beautiful in all his life. 

His heart hurts. They don't see him, but he almost calls out to them. They look like a pod of dolphins together in the water. They move fluidly in unison like they belong together. Spider can imagine himself with them and how strange he'd look by their side. They were perfect this way. He'd destroy the vision of them together, he'd be the odd one out that broke the look of the otherwise ideal family. So he chooses to just keep watching as they retreat, playing and twisting in the ocean around each other. Such peace in their heart. A blatant trust that everything was well, and would be well tomorrow too. The Sullys haven't looked this relaxed and well since the skypeople came back.

He pushes himself back to retreat onto the rock again. He brings his knees to his chest, clutching around his legs for support, a depressing mimic of a hug. 

"You can let them go you know." His father's voice is so similar to what he remembers, just with a modicum of softness that Spider rarely heard. And when he did it was when they were alone. Just like now. "Dreams change- and that family doesn't have to be your dream anymore. It's okay to see Sully's flaws and stop idolizing him." Somehow Spider knows Quaritch is referring to Jake. "You don't have to love them if they don't love you back right." There is strength at the end of that sentence. Conviction. Spider turns to look at Quaritch. For the first second he is standing by his Ikran, and the next he's crouched next to him, face close and eyes as yellow as ever. 

"I want to stop. But I don't know how." 

Quaritch tilts his head, he looks soft and gentle. Loving. Then his expression changes to a mixture of disbelief and gratefulness. A cut appears on the right side of his temple. Another jagged one just under his eye. They begin to bleed. A trickle of blood comes from his nose, his arms are all scratched up. There is blood between his teeth. 

"Let's move out:" He breathily groans, stumbling to his feet and then crashing against his Ikran. Cupcake chirps at the impact. An arm is extended to Spider: "Son." His breath is ragged. No doubt from the blood that's slipped down his throat from in between his teeth. "Come with me." 

A weight settles on Spider's stomach. It's warm and pleasant.

When Spider extends out a hand to grip his father's fingers he doesn't know if he's reaching out for Quaritch or simply chasing that feeling on his belly. 

Whispers come from the sky. A voice he doesn't recognize at first. 

He's not allowed himself to wonder what would have happened if he'd taken his father's hand. The dream seems set on telling him anyway as Quaritch starts helping him on Cupcakes back. The man is biting his teeth from the exertion and letting out a grunt as he takes on some of Spider's weight, hoisting him onto the Ikran. He helps his son even when it physically hurts. The load of responsibilities and expectations that Spider has but on his own shoulders lighten. As if his father had taken some of it for himself to carry.

The sky and the sea blur together as the boy feels his father get on Cupcake behind him. Spider moves his arm back to grasp the side of his father's shirt; set on not letting him fall off.

"Spider?" That's not Quaritch. The weight on his belly shifts a bit. "Son, hey wake up." 

Spider's eyes blink lazily in the dream, and his eyes in the real world follow suit. Between blinks, he sees either the top bunk above him in the medical ward or the gorgeous strangeness of having made a different choice. 

"Having trouble keeping your eyes open? That's okay, Norm told me he gave you something for the pain that might make you a bit sleepy. But I wanted to wake you up to let you know I landed safely." 

Spider turns his head in the dream. They're taking flight now. He can spot the Sully's in the water. In the real world, the pillow behind his head is flat and itchy as he looks to his left. A hand lays gently on his belly on top of the covers.

He blinks and then instinctively tightens his grip on his father's shirt. His fingers clutch at his crinkly bedsheet. 

His eyes close and open slowly; the Sully's and the surface of the ocean are further and further; he feels free. Jake is sitting on the edge of the bed; reaching for him, and placing a hand on his cheek. It's too big to settle there comfortably and rather spans along his whole head. The man chuckles at that. 

"You're all loopy, huh? Must be the meds."

Spider smiles at the open sky and at his father's choice of giving up violence and the war. Everything is well with Quaritch behind him. He smiles at Jake, even bigger when the man leans over his bed to press a kiss to his forehead. Everything is well. 

"I'll be here when you wake up, son." 

Everything is well.

Chapter Text

Waking up groggily to Jake sleeping in a chair by his bed had almost made Spider cry. The man looked unbelievably uncomfortable. The chair wasn't just made for humans and thus way too small for him, but also one of those nasty fold-up chairs that dig into your sides. The room was full of beds, and yet Jake had picked a chair so he would be closer to Spider. Or maybe he hadn't meant to fall asleep. Either way, it felt significant.

A mask hangs on Jake's neck and Spider doesn't doubt the man will wake up with a headache. He should have had the mask on his face if he wanted to sleep. Dumb to overlook that. 

Even though his limbs had felt like lead and his mind was still half asleep Spider had forced himself upright and shuffled to sit on the edge of the bed. Reaching for Jake when the man was asleep felt weird. He could count with one hand how many times he'd seen Jake sleeping. The first time Jake had fallen asleep mid-evening meal after a long day, and the Sullys had just decided to let him have his rest; slumped up against Neytiri. Spider had practically choked on his food from the speed with which he'd devoured it and then fled out of the home with thanks and see-you-tomorrows. He was not allowed to stay in the home long enough for anyone to go to bed- no that was private family time. 

Now Jake looks peaceful though stressed sleeping. His legs seem gangly, and his sleeping position leaves a lot to be desired. He's going to have the worst crick in his neck for sure. Spider grabs onto the mask, lifts it onto Jake's face, and then has to stand up to go behind the man to secure the strap at the back of his head. The dreads divot as Spider tightens the strap. He feels woozy and unsteady on his feet. Barely makes it back next to his bed before he face-plants on it.

Jake flinches awake, maybe from the sound of the bedframe rattling and scraping against the floor with Spider's ungrateful descent. "Hey, Spider." Jake sounds undeniably human with a rough sleeping voice as he clears his throat and straightens out on his chair. He comes to wipe his mouth but ends up just pushing on the mask instead. 

Spider struggles to turn onto his back on the bed, feet already tangled into the bedding somehow. 

"Aww, son did you put this on me?" There is a very soft chuckle, and then another creak from the bed as Jake grabs onto the top bunk and pulls himself onto his feet. He has to bend down unnaturally to have his head under the top bunk so he can hover above Spider. "Let me help you out." 

Spider's tiredness comes on like a deep tune of music, intensifying as if he'd already used up all his energy just getting up and taking a few steps. He ends up quitting his struggle and just slumps boneless on the bed with an unhappy groan. He'll sleep on his face, with something digging into his throat as long as he can sleep right now. 

Jake mumbles something but he ends up being just background noise. He detangles Spider's feet and then helps rotate the boy. Spider blinks blearily at him. "You came:" It's a whisper though he doesn't know why. He'd not planned to lower his voice like that.

"Of course, I came. I told you. Every step of the way I'll be here." Hands grab at him under his armpits and lug him up the bed so his head lands back onto the pillow. "Let's get you all cozy. Norm said-" 

With a few last blinks Spider falls asleep. 

When they get him in for surgery he feels a bit more awake. He has no idea what time it is, but he can tell it's late. Jake walks along his side the whole way until Norm tells him he has to say goodbye. Jake actually presses a kiss to his forehead as he gives comforting words and squeezes Spider's hand one more time. "I'll be by your side when you wake up, okay?" It's far more dramatic than it needs to be, but it calms Spider's beating heart.

The operating room is almost fully metal, and the surgery table Spider lays down on is icy cold. The medical team is covered head to toe in papery outfits with safety goggles on. They take a quick moment to say hello and greet Spider before removing the dressings from Spider's wound and cleaning it thoroughly. Even as Spider asks to do it himself they won't let him. He just has to lie on a cold table while they ask him questions. At least Norm, and Betty are here. Norm is a steady comfort, back in his human form. And Betty has always been nice. She's bubbly and fun and makes an effort to know everyone on base. She seems honestly happy to see Spider; a joyous soul.

He hates the bright light above his head, and not being able to see people's faces fully as they have some napkin-looking things covering their mouths. He grips the table in agitation, being poked and prodded at is testing his patience. He could have made do at Awa'atlu and bared this weight on his own. Now all these people are staying up to be able to cut into him. 

When they finally say that they are ready to start and ask for final consent from Spider they lift something to his face and he can't help but hate having to wear a mask again. Apparently, that's what will put him to sleep. They tell him to count down from ten and he falls asleep by eight. 

Jake paces the length of the door to the operation room the whole time Spider is in there. He hates not being able to be in the room and the worry of a father is a suffocating thing. His neck hurts like crap and he tries to rub out the knots while he paces. It does nothing.

He can't help but stress. Leaving his family behind with quick explanations and rushed apologies had been messy. Logging boxes of the things Norm had brought for Spider into their Marui had made him out of breath, so his quick recaps had been hard to comprehend for Neytiri. Considering things she'd taken it all rather well. After her initial questions, her tail lashed in agitation, and her words trailed into silence until she just stood there looking at him. He'd had to approach her gently, drawing her into his arms and promising he'd be back soon. Placating words was something he'd learned to do well. 

"You can not leave me when our son has just died, ma Jake." Oh, Eywa she'd sounded so hurt, even as she did her best to understand and be supportive.

He hated leaving her behind. But he already is putting a target back on High Camp by returning, and having the whole family here again would make them sitting ducks. As much as he wished he could pack up their Marui and fly them all over the forest, trailing behind Spider and nearing Mo'at moment by moment they just couldn't do it. 

"I know. But I must. I can not lose another." Maybe the fact that he'd sounded just as hurt and despairing had been what had made her take a sharp breath, and let him go.

"Fly careful. Be home soon. And bring him back with you." 

Neytiri had demanded for Spider. That had to be a good sign. 

When he was packing a simple pack to take with him Tuk had clung to his feet as if he was off to war. His babygirl had been so upset, yelling that he'd lied to her that Spider was just a little hurt and they'd get to play. That he'd have to take her with him since Spider owed her a playday and they could play just as fine in the forest. She'd cried crocodile tears and sobbed angrily as she refused to let go of him. "I'm coming with you daddy so I can play with Spider!" But knowing Spider would probably go to surgery that very same day Jake had no time to waste. Neytiri had pried Tuk off of him with a final kiss on his cheek, and Tuk had scratched his shins with her nails trying to hold on.

He'd never been so grateful that Kiri wasn't home. Neytiri would be left to deal with the girl's certain outburst once she found out Spider had once again been carted off and away from her. He'd sent one last apologetic look Neytiri's way when he'd stopped at the entrance of the Marui and rushed off to speak to Tonowari about his departure.

He wasn't sure if Neytiri had told Lo'ak everything in the meanwhile or if his son had overheard everything by their home; but Lo'ak was waiting with a packed back next to Bob once Jake was ready to take off and approached his Ikran. "You're not coming with me, son." 

"It's not fair to leave me behind. I know it's not safe to go back, but I can protect myself."

"And who will protect your mother and your sisters?" Jake had asked, knowing that giving Lo'ak that responsibility would make him stay behind. Neytiri certainly needed no protecting, nor would she ever allow Lo'ak to take on a fight if she was alive and breathing to fight instead. But if Lo'ak believed that was on him, he'd stay. So Jake did what he needed to: "You were strong for your mother while she was vulnerable last night. She needs your strength from now on. And I can not allow our family to split apart in a way where one of us is alone. So I need to go with Spider. And I need to you hold down the fort here." 

Lo'ak had looked so unsure before determination settled on his face: "Spider needs you. You should go so you can catch up fast. I'll look after our family here." Lo'ak had grabbed his stuff off of Bob's back, and Jake had leaned down to press his forehead to his son's. He wanted to feel close to Lo'ak just one more time before they'd be separated for a few days at the very least. 

"I am so proud of you Lo'ak. You amaze me every single day and I love you with all my heart:" Jake can't remember when he'd last been so vocally affectionate to Lo'ak, but he wanted to tell his son everything he was too late to tell Neteyam now. The way Lo'ak had stuttered and hugged him so tight had made every word mean so much more. His son had needed to hear exactly what he'd needed to say. 

"Thank you for trusting me. We'll be fine here." 

And he'd flown off, looking at Lo'ak's dissipating figure the higher he got. But his family was splitting up, and one of them was alone; getting further and further from them each second. He'd pushed Bob to a speed just under his limit, and focused all his attention to trying to spot the Samson.

He never caught up.

When they wheel Spider out he gets so excited to rush to him that he hits his head on a lamp. It stings, but not enough to keep him from asking Norm questions and taking his still tranquilized son's hand in his. "How did it go?" 

"It went well, Jake. He should make a full recovery from the operation quite quickly though we estimate the rest of the wound will take longer:" Norm has a clipboard in one hand while he pushes Spider's hospital bed with the other. His hand slips off once, and the bed jutters due to it. Jake rounds on the other side, thanks the nurse pushing the bed with Norm, and then takes her place. Norm smiles at the nurse quickly while pulling down his surgical mask: "Thank you, Betty, please go get some rest."

"Of course, Norm. You should get some sleep soon too." The woman has a soft voice, and she affectionately squeezes Spider's foot before she walks away. Jake decides he likes her. "I mean it!" She quips from over her shoulder once she's at the end of the hallway and Jake and Norm are struggling to get Spider's bed through the doors and back into the med ward. 

"Yeah, yeah:" Norm mumbles with a yawn, and then grunts as he heaves Spider's bed through. "I've been saying for ages that we need to widen these damn doors." 

Ignoring the comment Jake helps Norm push the bed to a place where it'll have a good amount of space around it. He drags one of the privacy curtains around the three of them; the bed slotted perfectly in the middle. 

"So there were no complications or anything?" Jake asks, going to grab the covers from Spider's bunk bed so he can drape them over his son and tuck him in. 

"Nope, none. We got all of the necrosis off, it was very quick and simple. We also took the time to document the wound fully, take scans and pictures, and the like so that we can have a more stable- um stable and proper treatment plan for it. I will get back to you about it tomorrow. Well, I guess today since we are far past midnight:" Norm grabs one of the datapads from a nearby table and checks the time. The light of the datapad makes the man squint. 

Norm looks exhausted. The surgical mask is hanging from the loop behind one of his ears, and he rubs at his eyes with one thumb and index finger before blinking rapidly to fight the tiredness. His eyes definitely have proper bags under them now, the lack of sleep far more evident on his human face than his Avatar one. Norm has grown out his beard a tad, the color of it far darker now than it had been 16 years ago.

"Leave me the datapad and clipboard and go to sleep Norm:" Jake says grabbing for the clipboard, but Norm's fingers tighten on it and he won't let go. 

"I'm fine I can recount everything to you just fine. I'm fine, finety alls well:" Even Norm's voice slurs a tad. Jake had no doubt that this man pushed out all of his tired so that he could safely be a helping pair of hands with Spider in the operating room, but still medical personnel being this tired did not seem exactly safe. 

"You're not even making sense anymore Norm. And you just said fine three times and finety once. That's not even a word:" Jake shakes the clipboard a bit and it slips out of Norm's hands. The man rubs at his eyes again and lends on the bed. It rolls away a tad, but Jake grabs on and has the sense to lock the wheels in place. 

Norm shakes his head and groans: "Okay I am tired. But I can through."

"Push through you mean?" 

Norm nods. 

Jake rolls his eyes and suffocates back his own yawn. "How about you sleep in one of the beds here? That way I can wake you when Spider wakes up and you'll be close if anything happens." He offers the solution softly, but actually grabs onto Norm's arm and starts leading the man to one of the nearby bunk beds. 

Without protests Norm slumps down onto one of them, groaning at his aching muscles and complaining about the beds here. 

Jake drags his folding chair back next to Spider's big white hospital bed and sits down in it after shutting off the lights. 

He wonders briefly if the rest of his family is sleeping well. Kiri is probably seething with rage; would that keep her up? What if asking Lo'ak to look after Neytiri and his sisters had been too much and now he was overdoing it standing guard or something? Ugh, he was absolutely doing that. Without a doubt. Jake groans at his own stupidity and then lifts his hand to his throat microphone. 

"Hey, Lo'ak?" He speaks, keeping his voice quiet so that Norm can fall asleep. He can faintly hear the crinkle of the bedding and Norm shifting on the bed before the man settles down. Jake can't deny that he's still a tad pissed at Norm for the comment he'd made to Spider about him. But that was mainly because his words had dug into Jake's insecurity about Spider maybe not wanting him here. Was he right? Did Spider not-

"Yeah, dad?" Lo'ak replies. His voice is a bit staticky due to the long distance. Jake told Lo'ak to wear his communicators all the time for as long as Jake was away just for extra protection in case something did happen. "Is Spider alright? Why are you so quiet?"

"Spider's fine he just got out of surgery, he's asleep and I'm trying not to wake him." Jake moves to smooth the covers on Spider's blanket again. If his son was cold he wouldn't be able to say anything, all loopy and knocked out as he was. 

"Surgery? He had to get surgery?" Lo'ak sounds surprised, as much as one can sound surprised over a long-distance communicator call like this. Jake thinks his own tiredness is making him hallucinate because he can almost swear he hears the sea in the background even though the throat microphones aren't supposed to pick up anything but speech. It's soothing, and quickly Jake finds his eyes slipping shut before he fights them open again.

"Yeah, your mother didn't tell you?" 

"No. She said you were speaking English the whole time and wouldn't switch to Na'vi when she asked-" Jake has no recollection of that. It makes sense since he'd just spent so long speaking English to Spider and Norm and he was in a rattled mind state. Still speaking English to his wife, who tended to struggle with it wasn't something he would optionally do. Neytiri must have been extra annoyed by that, though he can't remember her being actually angry. More just worried and upset. "-She could barely understand you. Just that Spider is sicker than you thought and needs to go with Norm. So you-" The call turns into static midsentence. 

"Lo'ak the connection is really bad:" Worse than it should be really, Jake thinks as he leans back the little he can in his chair.

"Maybe- weather- distance... Spider dying?" Lo'ak's voice keeps cutting in and out. The little Jake can hear he can put together that his son is guessing what could be causing the connection issues.

Frustrated by these difficulties Jake asks his son if Lo'ak can hear him well.

"Y-e-es." His son is essentially a robot now.

"Okay then I talk and you listen:" Jake takes a breath and shakes off his surface-level sleepiness. "Spider needed surgery for the wound on his chest. It was pretty simple, but because it needed to be done somewhere sterile it could not be done at Awa'atlu. Spider is way weaker to Pandoran bacteria and Na'vi healing methods just weren't going to cut it. That's why he's here." Jake feels terrible for leaving the brain damage part out. But it feels like it should not be shared over a call like this. And a part of him thinks that maybe Spider won't want to tell anyone in the first place. Maybe they might have to- eventually when the time to return to Awa'atlu would come, but at least he could leave his son the chance to tell his family himself.

"He- okay?" 

"Yes, he's okay. He needs time to recover and the doctors and nurses will be working with him closely until he's all better. I'll be bringing a fully healed Spider home:" Jake smiles to himself, reaching out to take Spider's hand. "I don't know how long it'll take but the doctors will do their best to be speedy, okay?"

He hears the sound of the communicator connecting Lo'ak, but he can't hear his son at all this time. 

He waits and hears it twice more before he just sighs: "I can't hear you at all now Lo'ak. Listen to me. I want you to go to bed. It'll be four in the morning soon and protecting your family does not mean standing by the door with a knife in your hand. I understand that I left you with a big responsibility, but you need to take care of yourself to be able to be a guardian. If you are half asleep you won't be any help."

He pauses and hears the communicator sound again. No Lo'ak though.

"I mean it. Please sleep so that you stay strong:" Jake tries to sound pleading, a tone that he doesn't use very often. 

"How- you know?" Lo'ak's voice is still very messy and disjointed. Jake doesn't mind. It's good to hear him anyway. His brave, wonderful son who just tries to be so good to his family. Lo'ak is already good to them though, he doesn't have to push himself to do something he's already achieved.

"I know because I know you Lo'ak. I am your father. I am so proud of you and I love you so much. Now stop being an overprotective idiot and go to bed." 

"You're one to talk:" Jake hears Norm grumble from his bed sleepily, and Jake whips around to pull the privacy curtain aside and send the man a glare. A few of the clips holding the privacy curtain up clatter down at the speed at which he pulls it. Norm just chuckles, says a quick goodnight and turns to lay on his other side.

"Fine-" Lo'ak says. "-Night." 

"Goodnight Lo'ak:" Jake pulls the curtain closed again and settles down in his chair. He drops his hand down from his throat microphone and just looks at Spider. 

All he wants is the best for his family. And for them to be together.

Chapter Text

Mo'at creeps into the main skypeople building at High Camp with silent but steady steps. She does not like to be inside these metal abodes; they are dead and cold and devoid of both nature and colors. The sounds were unfamiliar; an electric buzzing always in the air, the lights in the ceiling occasionally flickering in and out in a way that gave her headaches. She spoke English but needed to only focus on one voice at a time to understand it so the chattering of the people here set her on edge.

While she knows it is an unnecessary fear, she's always been afraid of the metal doors clanging shut too hard and trapping her inside. The people here would not do that. They are not one of The People, but relatively close to it anyway.

One of the small skypeople wearing a white jacket is insistently following her, trying to give her one of those strange masks to help her breathe as if she doesn't have the lungs to do that. Eywa gave her breath, and she would not filter it through something the skypeople made.

For once Norm was not on her heels as soon as she entered. She was quite certain he had some sort of alert to let him know when she arrived since he never took longer than a minute to find her here. She almost misses his stuttering. Little uncertain footsteps and eyes that look up and admire. He out of the skypeople was easy to tolerate. Respectful, curious, and ready to learn. Willing to take in knowledge as it was. Very unlike many of the humans who stayed. If you asked Mo'at; though no one would dare; she'd say far too many skypeople had been allowed to stay after the war. She herself would have given said right to only a few.

"Ca- can I help you?" Some stuttering woman spoke Mo'at's way, but with a whisk of the giant woman's hand, she fell silent, and quickly scurried off and out of the way. Mo'at didn't feel the need to explain why she was here. She was Tsahìk and she could go wherever she pleased, especially within her own village. The only reason she didn't hiss at the woman was because she was just that- a woman. All the skypeople knew that if it was necessary to approach Mo'at and Norm was not available sending a man would get them no reply. When it came to skypeople Mo'at had more respect for the females than the males. The men were brash and abrasive. The women seemed far more sweet and gentle. 

They too could be cruel, headstrong, and unwilling to understand, but for the most part, the women were far more tolerable. They saw beauty better than men. Could appreciate Eywa's creations outside of the gaze of this 'science' they often spoke of. They loved fonder, touched softer, and knew their own words and emotions better. They Saw clearer; both this world and the people. And Mo'at could appreciate that.

A door wooshed open on her right, but Mo'at did not turn to acknowledge the person who stepped out and then right back in to avoid an awkward closeness to the Tsahìk.

Whispers echo.

The metal grates under her feet unnerve Mo'at. It is not Eywa beneath her soles. The metal is cold too and sharp in its bite even if time has hardened Mo'at's feet enough for the ground of the humans to not harm her. It is simply an irritant. A light above her flickers. Unnatural. She quickly, automatically lifts a lip at it, nearly a snarl to show her discontent. Their healing room is not far now, nor is the boy.

How she hates the thought of him here. Spider does not belong. Never had. It isn't right. She feels distanced from both Eywa and Eywa'eveng here and doesn't doubt that he feels that way too. /Pandora/ 

The blade hanging from her headdress thumps against her throat with every other step. She clings to the sides of her red shawl and wraps it around herself better to shield herself from the odd cold emanating from all the dead things around her. 

She pushes a button to open a door, listens to the telltale swoosh of air releasing, and then slightly leans down to walk through, waiting for the door to open fully first. Her steps in this room were lighter, beds for the sick littering the room. Healing rooms were precious, no matter what creatures were cured there. The ill and dying deserved peace and respect even if they were skypeople. Though now the beds were empty with the exception of two. One of them had green cloth pulled around it from the ceiling, shielding it from view; the other had Norm in it. 

He was in his ugly human form, Mo'at could not help but lightly scoff at the man's obnoxiously loud snoring. He'd not bothered to throw the bedding on top of himself, instead sleeping sprawled out and fully clothed on the bed, one foot having fallen over the side, hanging just an inch from the ground. He looked like an idiot, a standard level of being for the man in Mo'at's eyes. She walked past him and hit his boot quickly with her tail, testing lightly if he would awaken. When he didn't she knew it would be safe to pull the cloth aside from the other bed. 

The first thing she wanted to see was Spider, instead her gaze fell onto her daughter's ugly mate. He was in a comically small chair, feet disappearing under Spider's bed, neck flung back, and drooping down. A bit of saliva in the corner of his mouth. Though he didn't snore as loud as Norm; that was more a human habit. His breaths were deep with sleep, chest hollowing out as air was pushed out.

Once Mo'at had seen him as a great warrior, worthy of her daughter, worthy of being Olo'eyktan; the Great and Revered Toruk Makto. Now she knew better. Great warrior, yes. Good Olo'eyktan, yes. Worthy of her daughter? Barely. Mo'at knew no man could be perfect and that perhaps she'd given him too much praise after he tamed the Toruk. Since of course; a man at the end of the day was still just a man.

He did have one redeeming quality; he made great grandbabies for her. Though now he'd returned with just one of them, and with this one on the brink of death it seemed. Useless lump. 

Mo'at's hands landed at her waist, she leaned her weight more on one foot as she stared at the man in thought. Look at him sitting there. Looking stupid.

She cleared her throat but the man did not awaken. She supposed he'd learned to not be afraid of his mate's mother, having lived so far from her now. He'd forgotten she was always just around the corner to judge him when need be. And need be was often. Her voice entering their home had always sprung Jake on his feet quickly. While they were leaders of the clan together, they all knew Mo'at's word was still stronger when it came to most things. Jake may be more Na'vi now than skypeople but it wasn't always like that. He had a lot to learn, and as long as the topic wasn't war or fighting she'd always held the upper hand as the more knowledgeable of the two. 

It was as Eywa intended. 

Mo'at's gaze traveled to the bed. At least Jake had made one right choice while being away; bringing Spider to her. She felt very much obliged to pick up the boy now and to carry him out of this skypeople settlement and deep into High Camp where he could lay on something Eywa made and alive. A strong root maybe, something to pull him back to the ground, attach him to something living. She was sure he'd like that, but a tube disappeared into his wrist and traveled up to a clear pouch of water, and Mo'at did not know the correct way to untangle him from such a thing.

Oh, how she did not care for Skypeople and their strange ways of healing. They always went deep under the skin in invasive ways.

Mo'at crept forward leaning down to take a better look at him. Her hand laid on his forehead knuckles first to test his warmth. His skin looked sickly pink, far more pink than normal. And a strange illness had made a large circle around his face. An odd illness she'd never seen before. He didn't feel as soft as he used to. And his face was unnaturally slack, closer to him being dead than simply asleep. It worried her. 

She pulled back the cloth covering him and hissed sharply between her teeth as she saw his upper torso covered in bandages. She can smell skypeople medicine and immediately knows they dug into him. There better have been a great reason, but having a great reason also means the boy has been in graver danger than expected. How she now laments. 

Anger however overtakes grievances and regrets as she rounds the bed over to her daughter's mate and practically growls: "Awaken lump!" Her tone indicates her shout, though she holds her volume low. She does not wish to wake up the other's; only the father of her grandchildren so that she may question him and then berate him for being foolish. Suddenly, from this alone High Camp feels a little bit more like home again. 

Jake jolts awake and then his chin hangs loose like that of a fish. She rolls her eyes at how this could have ever attracted her daughter to the level of mating him in secret when she was already promised to another. Truly Mo'at could not see whatever her daughter clearly saw. At least not now.

"Mo'at?" Jake straightens himself on the chair that creaks and threatens to break under his weight. He wipes his mouth and blinks rapidly. "Oel ngati kameie." /i See you/

"Pehem len, Tsyeyk?" /what happened, Jake/ Mo'at demands to know, her usual calm gone. She had a way of speaking normally; collected and thoughtful, never breaking apart or showing signs of weakness. She was a good leader and never angered unless necessary, however, in front of family, she allowed herself the right to have excessive emotion. And as much as Jake may be infuriating to her now, he was still family and she did love him. That meant that he could feel the burn of her wrath without a slight to their relationship.

"I-" Jake's gaze falls back to Spider, hand reaching out to take the boys. He doesn't seem concerned over the tube attached to it so Mo'at recons it may not be as flimsily attached as it appears. "It's a long story Tsahìk. One that I will need much time to tell." His voice is hollow. Raspy with sleep and dead to her ears. His shoulders droop. His frame is weary and tired, utterly defeated. He looks nothing like the strong warrior he used to be, or like the determined father who left this forest nearly a year ago to protect his family and tribe.

He looks old.

He looks hurt.

He looks beaten.

He looks sorrowful.

He looks like he's lost it all.

She pins her ears back. As soon as the surprise of her appearance leaves his face she sees the truth. Her daughter's mate is a wreckage. As much as a tree is after lightning strikes it, or a clay pot after it splits apart. He is practically drowning in guilt and sorrow. She remembers, she understands. There is a name that will be said plenty today as the story unfolds; Spider's. And there is a name that won't be spoken. One that is very dear to both of them, a loss Mo'at knows all too well. She wonders briefly if Jake has spoken his name yet. With Sylwanin it had taken Mo'at 67 moon turns for her to be able to.

Slowly she closes her eyes, allowing her rage to sink somewhere deeper where it can be contained. As much as one is allowed to be angry at family and tell them when they have done wrong, Mo'at won't be the one to add another crack to Jake's being. The important part is that he came. And as much as Spider lies here healing so does Jake.

So Mo'at will be good. She will be gentle and caring. She will soothe her daughter's mate and clean his wounds, both physical and spiritual. She will See him for he deserves to be seen. She will probably See him better than she ever has, for now, he has felt the same heartbreak she had felt with her eldest. 

Eywa gives and Eywa takes. Sometimes she repeats stories. The one that has taken the color out of Jake's face is very familiar to Mo'at. A retelling of one of her own darkest days. 

She has a grandchild in this room. But there is also another drifting with Eywa that will never come back. 

It is a weight that must go unspoken now, for Spider takes priority. But she will acknowledge its weight. It would be wrong for her not to. She will carry the burden of this hurt for a night so that Jake may explain and be here for another son that he has left behind far too often.

She herself too has much to atone for when it comes to Spider. 

Chapter Text

Mo'at only left during the night for the next two days. She stayed at Spider's bedside weaving a basket or ten while looking stoic and scaring off more than a few human nurses. It was somewhere in her DNA; the reluctance to allow people she didn't fully trust around Spider while he was bedridden after surgery. 

Though the boy swore on Eywa he felt fine and wanted to get up he wasn't allowed to. Norm had given him bedrest and for once Mo'at and him agreed. And that's where the agreements between the two ended when it came to Spider's care. Mo'at really wanted to heal the boy herself, believing she could care for him just as well, while Norm fought for the human side of medicine. Unfortunately for Mo'at Jake agreed with Norm and while as Tsahìk she could do what she wanted; after all this was her clan to govern, and her forest to rule over. However, Jake was ocean clan now and had claimed Spider as his so technically the two of them weren't hers to command. 

She was forced to concede her pursuit of using Na'vi healing which made her even worse about letting humans near the boy. She went from scoffing and smacking away their hands to hissing and then chasing them out of the room; much to Norm and Jake's protests. Now no one but Norm and Max would work on Spider, the rest having given up on even getting close.

And who could blame them? Having a ferocious, protective Navi woman standing at 262 centimeters (8'7") barreling toward you was a terrifying sight, especially when she wields a weaving tool that just happens to look like a huge machete.

So Norm did all the checkups, blood draws and tests by himself, occasionally sending an unhappy but not quite judging look Mo'at's way; only when she wasn't looking of course.

Jake was not having a great time. After her initial fury, Mo'at had calmed down greatly. That didn't mean he didn't see in her eyes the plan to bite off his head that formed the second Mo'at found out how old Spider's wound was. She'd remarked that the wound was healing unnaturally slow and that had confirmed Norm's suspicions enough for him to assign a whole bunch of new stuff to Spider. Spider's healing was progressing well after that. Great, actually. It seemed like whatever Norm had done to him had jumpstarted his body's natural healing processes again. Something that eased all their hearts. 

Jake sat by Spider's bedside too, though at nights he stayed, unlike Mo'at. He did make sure to stay on the opposite side of his mother-in-law and to be out of her arm's reach. He'd learned that the hard way when he'd affectionately patted Spider's shoulder only for the boy to let out a wince. 

Being so surrounded was bizarre to Spider. He wanted to be left alone which was the strangest part of it. He'd always wished that someone would care for him while he was sick or that they'd pet his head as he was falling asleep. Now he had that. Jake's hands were gentle with his dreads, he'd been brushing them out a little bit at a time whenever Spider felt up to it but it was slow going. He never would work on them longer than an hour at a time and then always ended it by gently rubbing the base of whatever dread he'd been working on. 

And Mo'at kept bringing rich-flavored soups to Spider that almost made the boy cry. Though he couldn't name a home of his own that soup tasted like it could be home. The smell was earthy and deep, drifting to his nose before the door would even open, alerting him to the Tsahìk's arrival a whole minute before she was there. The crackling sound of a wooden basket being made was engraved into his mind now, as was the swoosh of the blade she used. The best thing was her gentle humming of a lullaby song as night arrived and she was preparing to leave. 

They didn't talk much, and the silence itself was uncomfortable. Spider slept through most of it, the drugs continuously knocking him out and leaving him wondering if they spoke while he was asleep. 

Waking up to Mo'at had given him a spook during that first morning after his surgery. He'd clamored out of the bed to greet the Tsahìk on his feet as a proper warrior should. Sure he'd yanked out his IV, hit his head, and stubbed his toe in his rush to get out of bed, but the attack of limbs from the two adults to set him back down on the bed had been overkill. There was a strange pressure between the two. Like they were gearing up to fight, but chose to suppress instead. Spider knew from the tightness of Jake's muscles that he was expecting to be jumped again and that Mo'at wasn't too far from doing it most of the time. 

On the third night of his continued bedrest Spider's feet shook a little on his usual trip to the bathroom and back. He chucked it off to how tired he was. Returning to the medical ward, however, Mo'at was still sitting at his bedside and Jake was nowhere to be seen. That was new.

"Tsyeyk hum tsonta kä yur:" /Jake departed to go wash/ Mo'at didn't lift her head to answer Spider's unspoken question and another scraping sound of wood being weaved through itself sung in the room. That's what Spider had decided the basket-making sounded like; singing. Repeat after repeat of a hundred different cords being played by one instrument. Each row of weaving had its own unique sound that grew deeper as the size of the basket grew.

"Oel ngati kameie Tsahìk:" Spider spoke out of habit as a greeting to Mo'at, but couldn't bring himself to make the related hand movements. Not that the woman would see it if he did. His hand gripped the bedframe, knuckles white as he clutched it to hold his balance. Whatever medicine he was being fed, his feet felt like two humongous pillows, and staying upright on them was a struggle. Still, getting out of bed even if it was just to go to the bathroom was a reprieve. "Penunyol pohan lu?" /how long he be/

"Penunyol pohan lu?" Now Mo'at does look up from her basket and leans over to aid Spider under the covers once more. Her voice sounds surprised, nearly in disbelief really: "Ngeyä Na'vi li`fya tìfe'ul" /your Na'vi language is worsening/ She leans over his body once he is fully within the constraints of the bed. Her gaze is as deep as ever, though the boy doubts it's ever been this focused upon him before. The knife dangling from her headdress is swinging back and forth above his face, going out of his field of vision before returning. It's oddly calming to look at. Another thing to focus on.

Mo'at had such distinct features; Spider had always thought so. Jake looked... Human. Even in his Na'vi form. Neytiri looked like a vengeful goddess or a palulukan hunting from the shadows. Kiri looked like morning dew, and Lo'ak looked like a yerik. /thanator, hexapede/ But Mo'at looked regal. Like she was made by Eywa to be the very idea of a Tsahìk; the blueprint for these priestesses of the Na'vi. The interpetors of Eywa. 

Her tanhì- the boy thought- had the most beautiful pattern out of any Na'vi he'd ever seen. /bioluminescent freckles (the glowing dots on Na'vi)/ They drifted across her face in ways that just enhanced her beauty and when they shone in the night they looked as if they were constantly in movement. They flitted up her nose, curled in at her forehead, and only appeared on the outside part of her arms. They were rather sparse and far apart on her face. She'd passed down to Neytiri the two rows of tanhì that went down the column of her throat. A distinct marking that connected mother to daughter.

And her eyes! They were upturned and not as big as those of Jake or especially Ronal. A sweet green stared back from them, unlike the common yellow in many Na'vi. The corner of her eyes was covered by the bridge of her nose which was distinctly wide making her look younger than she was; setting a gentle tone on her features. 

Even here in the middle of metal and LED lights and plastic Mo'at looked like she was a part of the forest. Like vines and roots might just start growing in this room now that she was within its walls. The forest seemed to crave the woman whenever she was within it. Kiri used to tell Spider Mo'at described feeling a pull to the woods and everything living in it. It was as if the very spirit of the forest was within her and seeping through to connect her to the everythingness of life. Kiri had felt it too just in a milder way. 

Her hands stay over the top of the covers. They are warm even through the thick material. He feels healed by just their touch. It's pleasant; just the right amount of pressure. She smooths down the material. "Well, I haven't gotten to speak it too much lately..." His slip into English is not followed by Mo'at. She may not know the language as well as she used to, but his words come across clearly through the darkening of his expression. They both know he's referring to his time with the RDA. Not to mention the last two weeks at Awa'atlu when almost nobody spoke to him.

"Nga zene plltxe set zel. Fte nume nìmun:" /you must speak now then. in order to learn again/ She lets out a breath of air like a calm sigh. Her hands leave his person as she sits back down. She picks her half-made basket back up but doesn't start weaving. "Oeng tsun tsyul teri ngeyä ronsem. Ulte säspxin mìfa." /we can start about your mind. and the sickness inside/

"Frawzo:" /everything is fine/ Spider shrugs, the motion feeling strange while lying down like this. Mo'at tsks but doesn't react otherwise. She awaits a beat. "How long will he be gone?" Spider speaks, making sure to focus on speaking perfect Na'vi now, but Mo'at still sees through the distraction for what it is. Spider closes his eyes. Even through his eyelids, the two lights in the ceiling of the room are bright. White blue dots that shine and bother him.

Spider hears the tsahìk get up and walk away. For a moment he thinks she is leaving, but then a snap sounds. The lights go out.

The glowing dots disappear from behind his eyelids. "It is easier to speak the truth in darkness:" Mo'at's voice is a mere whisper from across the room. 

The comfort of the dark overtakes. It's calming enough for Spider to open his eyes. He knows Mo'at has great vision. He can hear her feet gliding on the floor as she returns. All Na'vi can see well in the dark, but it is easy to pretend that she can't see him when he can't see her. The chair creaks and weaving begins. 

"Tonight I will stay with you and Jake will rest. We will speak openly with each other as there are many things I must say to you Spider:" 

A tightness squeezes Spider's chest. 

"Norm says- though an imbecile he may be; that your mind is broken. I would do my own tests, but I don't have to. I see it within you as plainly as I can see the color of your eyes:" She speaks softly. Her voice is an old melody.

The tightness grows worse within Spider. His mouth opens and closes, before he squeezes his eyes so tightly shut it almost hurts. He doesn't wish to speak about this, but he also doesn't want to hear her disappointment when he can't share his burdens. She'd be safe to trust and he knows that. Might even know how to help- but... Not now. Not here. His teeth clamp together; determined not to speak.

Mo'at takes an herb from a table, and sets it ablaze, breathing into it to control the flame. The orange glow is so small it barely reaches Spider yet he can still somehow feel its warmth. It's deep, rich and comforting. A muddy scent wafts in the air, something most people would dislike, but to Spider it's pleasant. A reminder of the fresh air of the forest that floods from all around taking the earthy scents of wet ground away. 

"I am an old woman and I am glad to be able to say that I don't have many regrets. I have been a good tsahík. I have allowed Eywa to guide me and from mistakes, I have learned. I have kept our connection to the Great Mother strong and interpreted her will to the best of my ability. I have upheld our beliefs and traditions and found hope and grace for my people when we've been weak. Even things I regretted before- like trusting Tsyeyk; have proven to be momentary regrets." /Jake/ She pauses a moment. Spider doesn't like to hear of the time when Jake betrayed the people. It only reminds him of how Jake was still accepted and loved by the clan, while he'd never done such a thing and was still shunned. "I have raised a strong daughter under the threat of war and gained many wonderful grandchildren from a man who once betrayed us. So even his... Sickness of the mind was cured and turned into blessings in the form of children."

Spider doesn't know what Mo'at is leading to. In fact, listening to her avoid the true topic in her mind was growing tiring by the minute.

"I regret..." Mo'at begins but trails off. Spider hears uncertainty in her voice. It quivers like it's afraid, a sound so unlike Mo'at that he doesn't understand how she is capable of making it. "I regret not keeping my older daughter closer. Sylwanin. Perhaps I could have prevented her death then. I regret tying up Tsyeyk before hometree was torn down for perhaps he could have shielded my mate from death had he been free. I regret not staying close to Eytukan so that I could have done so myself." 

Spider's eyes are wide open now. He suddenly wishes he could see her. He wishes to comfort but doesn't know how. 

"All life is only borrowed. This I know. One day we must all give it back to the earth. Of this I am certain. My own time nears as well. Life has been long to my bones, but they grow weary and weak without the strength of youth they once held. One can not regret death when they are as old as I am. It was both my Sylwanin and Eytukan's time to go to Eywa. I await with bated breath to greet them in her embrace soon."

"You-" Spider pushed up to his elbows, but a stern hand lands on his shoulder and pushes him back down.

"Quiet sweet boy... Your empathy is a gift, but not a necessity now."

Spider falls quiet, the pillow is soft under his head. He wanted to turn to his side, but he'd been told not to. It would agitate the surgery site.

"If deaths are ruled out from regrets, then I am left with one regret above all. One that casts a shadow over my body, and a cloud upon my mind. A sin I feel I have one chance to atone for now. A chance that won't be open for me ever again:" The hand leaves his shoulder, fingertips softly grazing his cheek as she retreats. "You are here. So I would apologize for my misdeeds now if you would allow me to."

The boy's heart stutters and skips. A bizarre sensation deep within. A mix of shock, worry, and wonder. He doesn't understand:: "Me? There is nothing to apologize for. You haven't done anything to me."

A chuckle is heard. Mo'at begins to weave her basket. "You have spirit. I know because if you didn't you would have lost your temper long ago. Told us all what we deserve to hear:" There is an edge of mirth to her voice. Spider barely hears it over the scraping of wood. He wonders what patterns she weaves now. What beauty she creates. Is it as complicated to follow as her words? Why won't she speak plainly? "The issue isn't that I haven't done anything to you- though some would even argue that that isn't true. The issue is that I haven't done anything for you."

"I don't follow:" Spider's voice sounds tired. He is tired. 

"Do you remember when I fell? While harvesting for my healing."

"Yes."

There is a pause in the scraping sound: "Somehow after it, I never ran out of paywll pods or fortune's fruit after that. Even though... I stopped collecting the latter altogether. They'd appear in a basket by my healing room. I thought Neytiri was collecting them- I was grateful. When my family left to join the ocean clan the medicinal plants and fruits stopped appearing. So my guess was confirmed. At least momentarily." /dapophet/ Some fuzzy sensation begins in the back of Spider's mind. It curls in the very nerves of his upper neck. It strengthens whenever he hears the sound of a new basketweave. "Then we hit a hunger. The community basket was not being filled as it used to be. It only took two days for us to not have enough food for the whole clan. Na'vi only take what they need, so we didn't have reserves of food." She pauses. It's thoughtful.

"I-"

"We didn't go hungry long. The mistake was quickly corrected, but I still noticed it. As did our new Oloeyktan. It was a rather large hit for his confidence. A failure to provide so early on. It did not make the transition from under Jake's leadership any easier." 

Spider used to collect food. Longer on weekends for the upcoming week. He could remember the weight of the basket- not unlike the one Mo'at was making- on his back when it was full of food. Or the strength of muscle required to carry a bounty of fish from the river. It had been hard labor. Tireless labor. The same work he was continuing in Awa'atlu now.

"I thought that we were feeling the loss of my family's gathering, but we also had fewer mouths to feed so that also did not make sense. Someone had been pulling more than their weight. For some moment I thought it might have been Neteyam-" Spider can't keep in the wince at Neteyam's name. Mo'at gently reaches over and smooths down his hair. "-since it surely wasn't Lo'ak, Tuk or Kiri may Eywa bless their spirits." Spider hears Mo'at's tail clink against his bedframe once, twice, three times at the mention of her grandchildren. A sound of a longer weave than most scrapes out, one that pulls through the basket slowly, methodically. "But Neteyam was always so busy training to be Oloeyktan that I simply couldn't fully believe it. My heart was not in it, and Eywa knew also that this wasn't true. My daughter has not been herself since the skypeople's return and Jake... Well, Jake had not gone out to hunt or to gather in many moons. Too many war plans to create and warriors to train. How could he have left the tribe as the Oloeyktan for a task like gathering food when there were people to protect?"

"He made a good Oloeyktan."

Mo'at is silent for a moment. She doesn't confirm or deny. 

"My bones may ache but my mind is not gone. I could remember flashes of pink skin at my doorstep, a head of dreads whisking behind a corner moments before I arrive in the healing rooms only to find herbs and fruit at the entrance. Things I had chosen to look away from. A child weaving through crowds; agile and silent to get to the community basket with heavy burdens. Burdens of food on his back and burdens of heart on his chest. A boy catching fish alone at the river as I walk past. And arriving at the new hometree at the crack of dawn after a night when the crimson mushroom has been at its best for collecting." A scraping sound stills and repeats in a rhythm now. "I could remember seeing this boy, up high in the trees for fruit and down in the mud for roots. Or doing chores I knew were assigned to my grandchildren; all alone. Simply to be kind or perhaps... To provide? Pull his own weight? Feel useful? Gain our attachments?"

Spider clears his throat. He feels uncomfortable. Wants to disappear. These tasks were not carried out for thanks but as an apology. 

"He was always so alone... So silent... So unseen. Like a ghost in my home, one that no one chose to acknowledge. And the more I remembered and opened my heart to, the more certain I grew that it had been you." The flame from the still-burning herb rises up in strength, suddenly illuminating Mo'at's face. There is a desperate, deep concern in her brow. A look so intense Spider's breath caught in his throat. He felt like her gaze was entering his very being. Like she was watching his soul and could read its contents like a book. Like she read Eywa's will. The orange glow on her face made her look like a shaman whispering spells in a cave somewhere, making her own magic and binding it to everything all around her. The lines of age on her face made her look wiser, and stronger too somehow. Her power went beyond this world- this he knew.

"It had been a while by then since you were taken. And I knew how to prove my beliefs. I had the tribe gather food for our own skypeople for an evening and then approached Norm with our bounty. At first, he was confused and did not wish to receive our gift. He spoke of how they had a room simply to store food. I asked to witness their hoarding. But when that heavy door was opened only a few scraps of food were left inside. They would have run out of food the very next day. We would have helped them of course, but it proved what I knew to be true already. All of that food had been gathered by you Spider. Not just for us, but for the skypeople too."

Spider takes a shuddering breath. 

"When I handed Norm our food I felt like I was paying for your very soul."

Chapter Text

"Oe omum ke peu ngenga plltxe lawk:" /i know not what you speak about/ Spider says, his throat feels dry. He pushes himself up to sit and struggles half-heartedly against Mo'at's protests. "I want a drink of water."

Mo'at retreats her hands from Spider and fetches a waterskin. He tries to accept it with gratefulness to break the tension, but Mo'at gently smacks his hands away and tilts the waterskin at his lips. The first gulp soothes his throat, the second and third he drinks just to not have to talk. He'd drink the ocean if it meant postponing this. 

"Enough boy:" Mo'at whispers and pulls the waterskin away.

Spider coughs, a few wet drops on his lips. He wipes his mouth and then lowers himself back on the bed. Trying to get up would get him nowhere. 

"I am speaking of my regrets:" Mo'at's voice is unwavering. The herb on the table burns out and darkness falls again. Spider can hear the tsahìk shuffling around in the small space next to his bed. "Are they not worth listening to?" She asks this with a fondness, one that tells Spider she already knows his answer. 

"Of course they are..." He wishes just for a moment- in a selfish and personal way that he was the type of person to not care. Life would be simpler if he could just let things go.

Mo'at humms in agreement: "Then listen and be as true to me as I am being to you. I won't speak from my heart now Spider, but from my soul." That was worse somehow. "I wish for you to See me. I wish to See you too."

Spider releases a shuddering breath. One that rattles like his heart in his chest. He feels as if he's been waiting for Mo'at to say that to him. She was the tsahìk he'd wanted to accept him for so long. He'd figured if he put in the work and was humble- refusing to take credit then one day his efforts would be seen. And if the tsahìk favored him then the rest of the clan would follow. His fear had always been that he'd run out of time with Mo'at, because the second Neytiri would have become tsahík his chance would have been forever lost to time. She certainly would never accept him into the clan fully. But Mo'at had always been a little more open to him. Indifferent most of the time, but still somewhat aware that he existed and at the very least not openly hostile. He'd felt that with Mo'at he'd had a chance for an entry to the clan. 

Mo'at was being so open now. Vulnerable; even if you couldn't see it outwards. She was so poised and her voice was full of certainty. 

They are silent for a long while. Mo'at is waiting for him to speak and he knows he owes it to her to do so. He bites his lip. "What did you mean with paying for my soul?"

Mo'at takes a long breath: "My clan has feasted on your bounty and work without thank. Then you were taken and in our fear and self-deceits, we did not come for you. Around the time our scouts spotted you in the forests, my beliefs were confirmed. You hadn't just taken care of us and provided for our clan, but the skypeople too." Her voice is ancient with knowledge. The room echoes a tad, some words repeat back to Spider from the walls. "Such a labor of love, for people who were ungrateful. For people who did not love you back-"

Something catches in Spider's throat. A cry, a bawl, a whimper. He won't let anything out, won't allow those words to hurt him enough to make him voice his pain. It was true that the clan didn't love him; that the scientists didn't love him. But hearing it from the mouth of the one that knew best was another kind of ache. Slowly he took a breath from his nose, it didn't quite reach his belly and felt like a shallow inhale in his upper chest. 

"-Suddenly I mourned your loss. I hadn't been indifferent to it before, you were a child, after all, taken cruelly from those who loved you-"

From who? Who loved him? He hadn't seen his previous adoptive father in ages since the man betrayed the Sullys. He certainly didn't belong to the Sullys either nor would he claim that they as a group loved him. The scientists didn't love him, and he wasn't too much of a part of them anyway. Spider had been raising himself for a long while now; so if he was taken from someone then it was from himself. His freedom was taken. His right to choose was stolen. His self-governing was intruded upon. He was stolen from being a person with the rights of Eywa. 

"-But now it was a visceral ache. I knew I had done you wrong. Hadn't appreciated you when you were here, or guided you through the difficulties that only you were going through. Hadn't accepted you as a grandchild of mine when I should have. I wish I had." Mo'at sighs: "So much time wasted. Wasted in trying to make things easier for my daughter. Wasted in me having my eyes closed and refusing to look within you." 

"I still don't understand..." Spider whispered once Mo'at had been quiet for a while. She wasn't weaving anymore. The silence was eerie. Spider already missed the scent of the herbs, and as if reading his mind Mo'ät lit another, leaving it on the table once more.

"When Eywa showed me that Tsyeyk was to be given a chance I said that we would see if his insanity could be cured:" /Jake/ That is how I see the skypeople, sick in the mind. Insane and lost to the lies and deceits of their people. No trust in anything beyond their understanding; and this is how I saw you too." Mo'at's eyes glowed in the light of the flame. "My daughter wanted you to go away, so I did not pursue means to teach you. You didn't have a dreamwalker body to learn our ways with the way that Tsyeyk had. No way to make tsaheylu or hear Eywa. I thought teaching you would be impossible. That you were bound to be living with the insanity in your head forever. Now I know that trying to cure you would have been in vain."

Spider's eyes slowly close. Whatever direction he'd thought this was going in had just taken a nose dive off of a cliff. Mo'at did not think he could be fixed. 

"There was no insanity to cure in the first place. You were made and born here. Eywa has been with you from the start." Mo'at leans forward and brushes away the tear from his cheek. Her hands are so huge, but still terribly careful with him. She is warm. He can't help but lean into her hand when a palm cups his cheek. He releases a shuddering breath, trying not to cry. "You were born as pure as any Na'vi child. With blessings from our Great Mother. You were taken from the skypeople early on enough for their influence to be meaningless. You are Na'vi. You speak like us, you See like us. You taste, celebrate, and yearn like us. You feel the same emotions, you understand the forest. You are selfless, and just, and kind... You are of potential and greatness. You deserve to be heard by the people and have the right to speak to the tribe." 

A sob escapes him. Suddenly Mo'at does not care about his bedrest anymore and pulls him to herself. It is humiliating, but too great a comfort to push away. 

He is so small and fragile in her arms. She looks at him and sees his beauty. How she could have looked away from it before was a mystery to her. "I thought Eywa would take me for my years before I got to tell you how worthy you are. How precious your soul is. How I regret. How I yearn. I thought time would take me before you would see freedom. Before you would be returned to this forest that you belong in. That my time to release my energy back into the ground would arrive before your feet touched these roots again." Mo'at's voice becomes quieter, a whisper of promises and care. Words that send Spider's heart racing. "I thought Eywa would not see the day I got to claim another grandchild. But She sees this now. Even within this metal abode, She knows you are one of us. That you will be held up and cared for the way you deserve. After all of Her wanting, Her will with you will come true."

Spider's hand finds the edge of Mo'at's shawl and clutches it. He builds himself up piece by piece and gains control of his own breathing. It shudders, but slowly he stops crying. His eyes sting as he blinks them open. Mo'at has a small smile on her face, she looks at him with such open fondness and care that he believes her words. There is something about her sincerity that calms him.

"Your life was lived around serving others. So when I held that basket of food, knowing I would surely never see you again... I felt like I was doing the last act of service I could for you. Making sure others carried out your tasks, so that the people you provided for would not see hunger. I felt like I was erasing your role in the tribe; like I was accepting the fact that you would not return. One act of kindness. My only act of kindness towards you."

Spider's eyes traced the light of the tanhì upon Mo'at's skin.

"So... When I say that handing Norm that basket felt like I was paying for your soul... That's what I mean. I felt like I had erased you, given up on you. Eywa whispered sweetly that we might meet once more, but the chance felt slim in my mind, and Eywa has been more silent to me since the skypeople returned." 

"I See..." He spoke softly, but they both knew he meant he Saw her the way that Na'vi saw one another. 

"You had been more a part of the skypeople here than my own tribe when you should have been a part of us all along. And yet even the Norm did not know where your labor had left its marks:" Mo'at adjusted how Spider was lying down in her arms and pet his head. "That sound in the morning is not new either, is it? You used to get up to end it before it could ring out?"

Very reluctantly Spider moved his gaze away, choosing to focus on a stripe on Mo'at's arm. He nodded slightly. "You think... I am one of the people?"

"Mind, body, and soul."

"And you think I have no insanity within me?" 

Mo'at takes a breath. The next pet to his head is slow and meaningful. "Your mind is sick now. But it is not the sickness of the skypeople. Not their insanity. I fear the illness of your mind that Norm speaks of was put there by us. Our cruelty. Our indifference... Our rejection."

"No-" Spider wants to argue. Wants to tell Mo'at that he'd never blame her nor any other Na'vi for his issues. He wants to tell her all the strange medical lingo that Norm spoke of on the beach. How these injuries could be from a hard blow to the head even. How human skulls were not as strong as Na'vi's. But the woman doesn't allow it. 

"Shh... I will put your mind back together."

Chapter Text

"This is the most peculiar thing I have ever seen." 

A swoosh of a door opening: "I heard there was something weird to- whoa..."

"Right? Crazy!" The excitable man said as he turned to look at Brian entering the room with a lab coat and a clipboard ready. "I have never seen a brain like this. Norm wasn't kidding when he said something odd was going on."

Brian had stilled after entering, now he took a few careful steps forward while looking at the holo screen displaying a spinning image of a brain. He placed his clipboard on a random table next to him and scrunched his brow in thought: "Hugh, are these the preliminary images?"

"Nope. I've taken six rounds of images and scans and they are all identical. Each one is as bizarre as the previous:" Hugh's voice gives away how excited he is to start figuring out what's going on. His passion for his field of brain research ran deep enough to bring him to Pandora to be a part of an elite team of scientists. He was pretty much at the top of his field, though his bedside manner could use some work at least according to Spider who awkwardly sat in a corner of the room, trying to find something else to focus on.

"Looks like the worst damage is around both the Wernicke's area and the occipital lobe. The parietal lobe and the cerebellum are a bit better off but... still this looks so strange." Brian speaks clearly and efficiently, immediately jumping into work. He walked right up to the holo screen and started to isolate some parts of the brain to get a clearer view of them individually. "What are the symptoms of the patient like?" 

"Well, some of it is really mild and we are still piecing things together. But so far he can't uphold his posture very long, and his movement coordination isn't great though he himself seems rather unaware of that. I've noticed him tremoring a lot though he swears he isn't cold. His hearing range is definitely not up to code, and his hearing skips a bit. I've not noticed any short-term memory issues so we dodged a bullet there with the temporal lobe." Brian pulls up his notes onto a separate holo screen on the right. He sorts through them to pull up and display his findings on the symptoms. 

"What about his emotional state?" Hugh asks zeroing in on a clear scan of the temporal lobe.

Brian shrugs: "Not a lot of ways to test that part. I haven't had the time to stress him out or agitate him to see how he reacts."

Hugh sends a good glare at Brian: "Not really fair to do that anyways, which is why we won't. We'll have to go off of how the patient feels his emotional state has been." He'd had to hold the reins on Brian a bit too often for his liking. In his pursuit for more knowledge and understanding, he'd often forget that his willing test subjects were actual people. It didn't make him a bad guy, just thoughtless and unreserved. 

"Oh. Right..." He has the decency to look ashamed at least. "Anyway, Norm noticed that he has some sensation loss, especially on his back and his chin. He also misjudged where he is being touched sometimes or can't pinpoint the location at all."

"The parietal lobe issues explain that. What about his reading and writing?" Hugh asks, following Brian with his eyes as the man looks practically gleeful while rushing towards a stack of papers.

"Awful! Like horrendous. Can't even write his own name anymore and look- this is how he draws a flower now:" He speaks with excitement, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he shows off papers with some mangled lines on them made with a blue marker. The patient's writing looked like that of a three-year-old if it was legible. In most of the papers, you couldn't even tell that something was a letter. Jagged lines and waves that made absolutely no sense. "It's terribly fascinating. I've seen impaired writing and drawing before and at a worse level too than this- but with this kind of injury. He is a one-of-a-kind patient."

Hugh nods. He can see that rather clearly. This was an especially intriguing circumstance. He didn't really understand why Brian had been called in before him. Brian specialized in the human brain only.

When he begins to speak again he is sorting through more of the scans: "And his reading is as bad?"

"Basically yes. He has some signs that point to Alexia."

"Hmm... Did Norm leave a report?" Hugh asks, rubbing the back of his neck in confusion.

Brian is already at the other end of the room, sorting through paperwork and trying to put together some sort of hypothesis. "Yup, it's on that table on a holo tablet. You should check it out. Really interesting stuff especially coming from a guy who isn't a brain specialist." He doesn't turn to look at Hugh, too caught up in all of this already. Hugh can't blame him, though it did still lightly unnerve him how excited Brian would get from a strange case when there was a person suffering. Hugh should have known from the start that he wasn't cut out to be on Pandora. When it had been time to choose a side he'd seen enough and the decision wasn't hard at all. He didn't regret joining the Na'vi, but he did regret coming to this planet. He regretted staying too, but wasn't looking forward to going to earth just to be executed for being a traitor of his own species.

Norm's report is thorough. When that man ever found time to sleep was a mystery to Hugh. He and Norm had been friends a long time now, actually, they'd known each other before either of them set foot on Pandoran soil. They'd been in high school together, both of them scrawny nerds with a dream to study the blue people in space.

Hugh had arrived in Pandora before Norm though Hugh also wasn't specialized in as many fields as Norm. He'd worked under Grace's command for about two years before the war had broken out. He was a big part of the leading team of neuroscientists studying the brains of avatars and the neural link. Always looking for new ways to strengthen it and make it safer. 

Hugh kept Brian's notes open on one side of his holo screen while still following the pathways through the brain. "What about the patient's balance?"

"Eh, some mild issues, but it was unsure if it was due to the damage on his cerebellum or just exhaustion:" Brian says, then he slightly backtracks. "Remember to take my words with a grain of salt, I haven't done nearly enough tests yet."

Hugh can't help but chuckle. He was already taking anything Brian said with a grain of salt. He was a human brain scientist and this was out of the range of his expertise. "Norm did a lot of cranial nerve tests, though his notes are very thorough I think we should run these all again with the patient and also add some more just to be safe."

"Sounds good to me."

"Since the patient is young my main concern is over how the damage on the temporal lobe might affect his learning:" Hugh begins. For a kid, it would not be easy to go through the rest of your life not knowing how or struggling immensely to learn. Most teens were still missing vital life skills. So they should know where they stand on this. "Your notes show no testing on this and that should be one of our priorities for now." 

Brian shakes his head: "I haven't looked into it yet."

Of course, he hadn't.

There is a clamor in the corner and then the sound of paper being thrown and sliding on the floor.

Hugh turns to look and lays his eyes on Spider Socorro. He rapidly blinks, takes a step back as he watches the boy apologise and start picking up papers. He can distantly hear Brian begin to groan and whine about needing to stack the papers correctly again. Hugh ignores him. 

Spider has bandages over his chest but other than that looks somewhat normal. Poorly fed, a tad pink and tired, but still normal. He looks like himself. And... He's alive?

"Spider?" Hugh asks, his voice chock full of surprise. "You're... Here?"

"Oh, right I forgot to tell you that the Sullies got him back from the RDA at Awa'atlu:" Brian exclaims while slapping his forehead. "Oh, well now you know." The man spins back around in his chair to continue his work, while Hugh walks over to Spider. 

"Let me help you with those."

"Thanks. Nice to see you again Hugh:" Spider smiles at him, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. Almost all of his dreads are brushed out, leaving a part of his hair crinkly and poofy. He has to throw the remaining few dreads behind his back to get them off of his face. Closer up like this Hugh can see Spider's cheeks are a bit caved in. His skin is healing from something and is ridiculously dry. But he also has this... Look in his eyes that Hugh doesn't like. Like a corpse walking around while being entirely dead to the world. Spider might be back, but Hugh is immediately aware that it isn't the same Spider they once knew.

"Nice to see you again Spider:" Hugh pauses on his gathering of papers. Bringing them together in his fingers and slapping the bottom to the ground to even them out to a nice stack. "I... I almost can't believe that you're actually here. I mean you've been gone for so long."

Spider seems to shrug, as if him having lived through- whatever he lived through- wasn't that big of a deal. It was exceedingly rare for them to get prisoners back now. Spider even all mangled up was a sight for sore eyes. "I've been back a while now. Twenty days or so I think."

Makes sense to Hugh now. He nods along and sighs: "Ah, I've been in a mobile shack for research for a month and a half. We had a really bad connection. I came back late last night."

"Welcome back then:" Spider smiles. He seems to attempt to bring his voice back to that carefree sound it used to be, but he fails. He gets up once all of the papers are together, and makes a face as he gets up. One hand of his comes over the bandages and he tries to hide his discomfort. The boy places his stack of papers onto a desk and yells out another apology to Brian across the room. He only gets displeased grumbles for a reply.

"Did you take a bad hit?" Hugh asks, nodding towards Spider's chest bandages while he watches the boy hop back on top of a table to the side. 

Spider looks down, his hair covering up his face as he does so. His fingers lightly drift over the white cloth: "Naah. Not that bad. Norm and the others took care of it. I'm in tip-top shape now." 

Hugh doubts that. He scrunched his brow but kept that opinion to himself. Spider shivers. "Here, take this:" Hugh says and chucks off his lab coat. He hands it to Spider against the boy's protest and sits down in a chair next to him. He doesn't let Spider go on with his denials of help: "How is everyone at Awa'atlu? I did hear that Jake is here and- um. About Neteyam." He knows Spider and Neteyam weren't especially close friends so he doesn't feel the need to apologise for Spider's loss. That's reserved for Jake and the rest of the Sully kids. 

Spider nods and swallows. Nicely folding the labcoat over his lap so that it covered his legs. "Physically everyone is fine. Otherwise, it's a grieving family." His eyes are stern as he speaks, an inner battle of some kind waging inside. Hugh had never spoken too much to Spider. The boy brought something to the base. Joy sometimes. Sound? Definitely. Life in general maybe. He'd been there for so long; even though most of his time was spent in the forest; that it had been hollow and strange in here after he was gone. It had been quite the wake-up call to many when they heard Spider was captured. They had to re-evaluate how big of an impact the boy had actually had on base, and if they'd appreciated him enough while he still was here. Most of them hadn't. Hugh included.

His words were so aged for how young he was. There was this weight to them; they didn't belong in the mouth of a teenager.

Hugh shook his head out of it. "Of course."

Silence fell. Brian's fussing about was the only sound in the room aside from the ventilation system churning on. "Are you hungry or thirsty Spider?" 

"I could eat:" The boy said, straightening his back suddenly and properly looking at Hugh in the eyes. 

"We have some fruit in the minifridge let me grab it for you." The fruit was smack dab in the far back of the tiny fridge. Hugh had to get on his knees in front of the thing to get it. His knees really weren't what they used to be because he grunted as he got up, joints popping even as he was using the fridge as leverage. "Ugh, my body is not what it used to be:L" He bemoaned to himself quietly.

Spider ate in silence. Hugh went back to his work. His thoughts were slightly clouded now with thoughts of Spider though. He must have gone through a lot at the hands of the RDA. He definitely didn't seem to be ok. After a whole hour passed with Hugh sometimes calling out ideas and tests for Brian to add to the work list he approached Spider again. 

"Are you sure you are ok?" He asked the boy, steadily taking a seat next to the boy. He places his hands on the side of the desk and leans onto his arms to keep the conversation light and tensionless. 

"Mhm, I'm just fine:" Spider says, looking up from whatever small gadget he had been fiddling with. 

Hugh nods: "You didn't used to spend much time in here." Or any at all. The boy had been in this room once in his life; when he'd hit his head at age nine they did a scan just to be sure. Hugh wasn't really even sure Spider could remember that happening. He was happy that Spider was back, because of course he was, but the boy was acting so peculiarly. Just sitting in the corner of the room.

"No, I did not. But you know- special circumstances."

"Well, you don't have to sit here in this corner if you don't want to. You look rather anxious to leave, so go on ahead if you want to:" Hugh does his best to look supportive. The boy isn't really trouble or in the way. The opposite honestly since he was never this quiet and usually managed to be a bit of a liability. But he shouldn't be sitting in a random room if he didn't want to be here. 

Brian's chair squeaked as he turned around: "Umm-"

"I'm allowed to leave?" Spider looks surprised at that. His eyebrows climb high on his forehead and his eyes are widely open in wonder. He immediately hops off of the table.

"Yes of course. You're not a prisoner here:" Hugh pats Spider's arm and walks back to the holoscreen in the middle of the room. 

"He shouldn't-" Brian starts again.

"Great!"

"If you see Lo'ak though could you send him our way? Thanks, Spider:" Hugh calls over his shoulder as he starts tapping away on the screen. The door doesn't open. The boy doesn't leave, and suddenly he can practically hear the silence in the room get weird. 

"Ummm..." Brian humms, getting up from his chair. He sounds unsure and confused.

Hugh turns around, one of his hands in his pocket to look at the two of them. Spider is already right by the door having practically bolted for it. But he isn't really on his way out. Now he is entirely turned towards Hugh though, looking just as baffled as Brian. 

"Lo'ak isn't here:" Spider says carefully, shooting a weirded-out look to Brian. The two of them seem to have a vague silent conversation that definitely does not include Hugh in it. 

Hugh scrunched his brow: "Yes I can see that. Which is why I am asking him to be sent my way."

Brian snorts at Hugh's tone, shaking his head a little: "Well it's gonna take him a while seeing as though he's still with the ocean clan back at Awa'atlu." He guides Spider back to the table he'd been on while the boy slightly groans and looks reluctant. It's kind of funny really. Hugh prayed that the day would not come when Brian decided to procreate, but watching him awkwardly lead a teen back to someplace he didn't wanna be surely made him look like a dad: "Now don't go rushing off just because suddenly Hugh has as many screws loose as you do." Hugh could see Spider roll his eyes so hard that he was surprised they didn't fall out of his head. 

The boy hops up on the table and sighs. He's all bent over, sitting with terrible posture like a bored teen would. A picture-perfect image of a teenager getting punished for something. Was that what this was about? Spider was being punished for something? Maybe he'd broken lab equipment or gone out while clearly still recovering from some kind of chest injury. Or at least the sight of him would be the perfect image of a teen if he wasn't wearing a loincloth, but actual clothes from a mall or something. 

"Did I miss something? I'm confused now:" Hugh says as he clicks out of the holoscreen. "How are we supposed to do tests on Lo'ak if he isn't here? We kind of need to see him in person if Jake wants us to help this desperately. I mean I was told to come back from my research mission to help with this." He sighs in exasperation. More than a month of research was seized to help a Sully kid. Of course, he'd come and do it. He was the expert at Na'vi and Avatar brains around here and he understood why he'd been called. But purposefully making his job harder by not having the patient here by the time he arrived was just stupid and wasting his time. 

"Lo'ak is not the patient. Spider is."

Hugh takes a wavering step back. He blinks rapidly. "That can't be:" He lets out a small chuckle expecting this to be a joke or a prank of some sort and not wanting to get fooled.

Brian approaches and pulls up the image of the brain again. It was quite honestly beautiful in its mix of colored lights, spinning ever so slowly and showing off every impossible detail of it. "This image is from Spider's brain. Not Lo'ak's."

Hugh just stands silently. Then slowly looks at Spider over his shoulder. "That can't be:" He repeats quietly.

Brian seems done with this: "Pray tell me why not. Because I'm pretty damn sure they are from Spider since I took the bloody pictures myself. And I did the scans. And I've been working on this case before you bothered to show up."

"Yes, and I don't know why they put you on this case without me because you're the human brain expert and not the Na'vi brain expert. And this scan is clearly from a teenage Na'vi. More specifically one of the Sully kids because of its strange biological structure:" Hugh gently shoved Brian aside and pulled up a standard bran scan from Norm's avatar. He out of all the Avatar drivers let himself be tested on the most and didn't mind being used as an example or a learning tool. Anything in the name of science right? "See this is an Avatar brain you've surely seen one before even if you didn't study them. See all of the pathways going through it? They're almost identical to this scan-" He points at the scan of 'Spider's' brain. "Which is weird because this brain is built like a human brain, but has excessive Na'vi neural pathing going through it."

Brian pushes his glasses further up on his face and squints: "I mean... They do look rather... Similar." He takes his time to compare the pictures. "But I swear it's Spider's scan. I took them myself earlier today. Multiples like I said."

Hugh gives a quick glance to Spider who is sitting very much in focus at the moment. The boy looks at the two scans with his eyes bright, more alive than he'd seen them today. It's hard to read his emotions now.

"What makes you think it's one of the Sully kids?" Brian asks, rubbing his eyes under his glasses.

Hugh shrugs: "Well the brain is smaller than an adult Na'vi's and within the perimeters for someone Lo'ak's age. We did a brain scan on all of the Sully kids when they were first born just to be careful since they are technically one-fourth human. And their brain structure looked more or less a mixture of a human and Na'vi brain." He grabs his comm and calls for Norm to come in. He hasn't seen the man, or much of anyone since he'd come back to base so late and went straight to bed. Maybe it was time to get a few more people into the room and clarify exactly what they were looking at. 

Brian lets out a huge sigh and leans back until he falls sitting on a chair behind him. It has wheels so he comically rolls back a little and almost off of the raised platform in the middle of the room. "I mean their brains can not have looked like this drastic of a mix of the two, right?"

"Oh, definitely not:" Hugh starts going through the folders on his datapad looking for the brain scans of the Sully kids. Tuktirey was the youngest so hers would probably be the easiest to find. "When Neteyam was born we had no worries at all. His brain was a completely healthy and normal brain for a Na'vi baby. We were more worried about Kiri because she was born from an Avatar. A dead one at that."

"Grace's avatar is not dead:" Spider whispered from where he was.

"Her brain seemed fine enough, with some human-like shaping but nothing drastic; almost imperious to the naked eye. But then Lo'ak was born and out of all of the kids, his brain resembled that of a human the most. Even then it was very minor, barely noticeable. I think no one but me would have even noticed it, but to my eyes, after all of my years of work and research it was clear as day."

"Showoff-" Brian groans. "Just get to the point!"

Hugh finds the picture of Tuktirey's brain and displays it next to the other too: "Well the reason I thought the scan was Lo'ak's was because I figured his brain had developed wrong. Too human and too Na'vi and thus dysfunctional. I mean let's be honest to ourselves here; these neural pathways are going through stuff in the brain that they should not be going through. It's bound to cause some damage." Tuk's brain scan is tiny compared to the other two, even as they zoom into it. Hugh's brain is working overtime. He doesn't exactly believe Brian that it's Spider's scan. Or if it is then he doesn't believe the scan was taken correctly. Something, somewhere must have gone awry. But... He also doesn't think Brian would outwardly lie. The man lives and breathes science and wants to be right about everything. He wants to be the best so he wouldn't waste research, time and recourses for a lie or a prank would he.

"So you thought Lo'ak had started developing more human-like organs-"

"A human-like brain, yes."

"But he was still growing Na'vi neural pathways and that was fucking everything up?" 

"Yes."

"I mean that would make sense if this was Lo'ak's brain scan. But it isn't. So how the hell is Spider growing Na'vi neural pathways?" Brian asks. Leaning back in his chair with a tired and exasperated look, moving his hands behind his head and lifting a foot up on top of a knee. "It makes no sense. Spider is human. Like just human; like us. His parents didn't even have Avatars. He doesn't even have an Avatar. Even if he did this would be impossible."

"Well, he isn't. He can't be. It's impossible in every way."

Brian humms and then grabs a stress ball off of a desk next to him. The squelching sound of him squeezing it irks Hugh. But whatever works, works. "Could it be an environmental factor? He was born on this planet and he's spent maybe seventy to eighty percent of his time out there. Maybe the environment is doing this to him. Making him more Na'vi? Like rapid evolution."

Hugh rolls his eyes. Brian needs another lecture about bedside manners and the sound of Spider's feet slapping onto the ground as he hops off of the table confirms it. How could Brian say something like that with the kid so close by? All he'd ever wanted was to be more Na'vi. To be one of the people. A part of the forest the same way that the Omatikaya are. To commune with Eywa. And now it was as if Brian was entertaining a ridiculous notion that would give the boy hope for something that was biologically impossible to begin with. Brian was an idiot. And as soon as Norm was here and Spider left to rest he'd be telling Norm like a kid getting a classmate in trouble.

"Is that possible?" Spider asks, startling Brian who seemed to have forgotten the boy was even in the room. The man cringes as he looks over at Spider's hopeful gaze. Spider looks like he'd just filled with color again, after being black and white for an age. Like life was returning to him. 

"It isn't. And Spider isn't growing Na'vi features Brian. He is human. And that's that."

"Well, how do you explain this then?" Brian asks and grabs another stress ball for his other hand.

Hugh enlarges Spider's scan and then overlays it on top of Norm's Avatar's scan: "I can't. You must have done the scan wrong or mixed up the results."

But then... He pauses. There is something he notices like this with both scans piled on top of one another that he'd missed before. 

"It's not a perfect copy:" Brian speaks out and gets up. He comes to stand right next to Hugh who can't help but cover his mouth with his hand. 

He begins to tweak the two scans. He doesn't touch the image of Spider's scan, but from the scan of Norm's Avatar, he strips away everything that isn't identical to Spider's scan. It's most of it, but what's left behind is a very clear image of the reason why the scan is so bizarre. "God..." Hugh says. Disbelief filled his tone as heavily as it filled his belly. As a Na'vi this brain scan would make Lo'ak unviable for life on Pandora. Too many normal Na'vi brain paths are simply missing. So... It's not Lo'ak's scan. It's not the scan of any Na'vi youth. Even if something was terribly wrong with the scanner it wouldn't give a result like this. "The only Na'vi neural pathways in the scan are the ones used to form the bond."

"The bond?" Spider repeats, now slowly approaching, the lights of the scans shining back from his eyes. A fear of something being wrong with him turning into a visible picture of all of his dreams being right at his fingertips. A physical image of it in front of him. Something beautiful, a blend of the paths of stars and glow on a screen, spinning, setting a thought in his heart that wouldn't go away. A thought of hope that was dangerous for someone like him.

"Tsaheylu... Your brain has the pathways to form tsaheylu."

Chapter Text

"So Norm's notes say that you're experiencing phantom touch. Did he explain what it is?" Hugh asks as he approaches Spider with a pair of headsets. 

Spider nods: "My brain fakes sensation in the places where I can't feel anything because I can see someone touching me and remember what touch feels like. Right?" The boy looks a little unsure, the whole explanation sounding more like a question than an explanation. He shivers again on the observation table. He's now just given up and put on Hugh's lab coat hoping it would help, while swearing up and down that he doesn't feel cold. 

"Yes, that's a good way to describe it. Now I want to do some general tests about it. I have this marker and I'm going to mark the areas where you can't feel as clearly as I can." 

Spider nods. He gives Hugh a small smile: "Would be nice to get a clearer idea of the whole thing." Spider had been really cooperative with everything since they stopped gawking all confused and started actually running tests. So far it had mainly been more cranial nerve exams and about twenty more brain scans just to get the same impossible result over and over again. He didn't argue, thanked them for even the intrusive tests, and answered to everything pretty earnestly. He sat on that table just swinging his legs a little, ready to follow lights with his eyes or to count numbers and to go through dozens of sight and hearing tests. 

"Yeah, we can have you use a mirror to look at it after. Now to try and keep this as accurate as we can I think we should have you wear this headset that will keep you from hearing anything and this cloth over your eyes so you can't see." Hugh shows both to Spider and then checks if he's okay with this: "It can be a little spooky to not hear or see so are you sure you are comfortable."

"Yup, it's fine. Let's do this." The kid is quick to grab the headset and start putting it on. He has to physically pull his hair aside to get them even halfway decently on. He yanks the headset around a while before getting it on well. Then he just blinks and cracks one side open: "How do I tell you when I feel touch and when I don't?"

Brian laughs: "Not hearing or seeing doesn't stop you from speaking Spider." Hugh elbows Brian on his ribs at which the man looks terribly offended, even managing to spill some of his drink all around. "Hey!"

Hugh doesn't acknowledge the other man, simply folds the black cloth into a makeshift face mask and hands it to Spider: "Now make sure no light comes through and that you really can't see anything from behind this. We are going for accuracy." He watches as Spider covers his eyes with the cloth, tying it extra tight behind his head. The boy takes off the lab coat and tries to place it on the table next to him; only the coat does not land there, but slips immediately off and slides to the floor. Hugh had just washed it too. 

Sighing the man grabs it from the floor, brushing off the dust from it, and folds it on a chair. They begin the examination. Whenever Hugh manages to find a place where sensation loss begins he marks it for Spider. The boy's chin is fully sensationless. So is the back of his neck and a pretty big portion of his back. It's a larger area than one might assume from Norm's notes. In addition, the side of one of his calves is sensationless as is both his elbows in a surprisingly symmetrical way. 

"I feel that. Aaand not the feeling is gone. It returns there."

"I feel nothing now. I don't know if you're even touching me though."

"This is really weird."

"I feel that. Hey! That tickles, stop!"

"Yup, I feel that. And just as I say that I feel nothing now."

They were at the boy's ankles, little black markings all over him when they heard a loud band from far away outside like a shelf falling over. Brian turned to look toward the door, datapad clutched in hand where he was recording Spider's sensation loss as they went along the examination. Hugh on the other hand did not seem to notice, too absorbed in the examination. A while later the sound repeated from closer. 

Brian scrunched his brow, only turning back to Spider when Hugh noted that he'd stopped recording their findings. "Something wrong?" Hugh asked, ignoring how Spider said he felt nothing as Hugh withdrew from the boy. 

"No, just weird sounds on the base:" Brian said, trying to listen closely to see if the sound would repeat.

"There are always weird sounds on the base. Everything echoes and reverberates here. Just focus on the task at hand:" Hugh patted the side of Brian's arm to gain his attention again and nodded towards the boy. 

The man seemed to shake out of it and cleared his throat: "Can you repeat the last two marks so I can make sure I didn't miss anything?"

The examination continued, but far away yelling reached the room through the vents. They couldn't make out what was being said, not that they were trying to so that they could focus on what they were doing, but someone was really angry on base. That was for sure. A few more crashes sounded, and then a clang seemed to echo and follow the walls all the way to their examination room. More voices joined the shouting. 

Hugh and Brian sent each other a look when another loud crash rang. Now even Hugh couldn't ignore it. "What the hell is going on out there?" Hugh asks, annoyed and rubbing a hand over his forehead. 

"I feel nothing now:" Spider says still blindfolded and deafened by the headset.

"I'm not touching you Spider:" Hugh clarifies, only to immediately realize his mistake and roll his eyes as he waits for a smart-ass response from Brian about how the boy can't even hear them right now. But... It never came. "Brian?" Hugh turns to his partner and sees that Brian has turned his back on him entirely and has taken a few steps towards the nearby vent, looking up at it intensely. "...Brian?"

"I think I hear Norm..." Brian says, swallowing so hard that it's visible to Hugh. For some reason, his hair stands on end.

Hugh stops to listen, walking over to Brian and looking up at the vent too. The yelling is too garbled to be understood, but the shouting doesn't seem to stop at all, not even long enough for someone to take a breath. Norm almost never yells. This is- odd.

Hugh takes a moment, hand going to the comm; feeling its buttons, and trying to choose what to do. The yelling must be why Norm didn't come when called. Something must be wrong. "Should we call Norm and ask? Maybe we should check it out."

Brian shakes his head lightly, squinting his eyes at the vent and taking a surprised step back when a loud crash rings through it, echoing within itself. "The alarm isn't blaring so we aren't under attack. Someone must just have... Got a bit mad. We would probably just complicate things. And honestly? He probably wouldn't hear his comm ring over all of this."

"Are you still here? I haven't felt anything since I last spoke... Guys?" Spider reaches a hand out into the air in front of him, feeling around blindly. 

Hugh can't help but audibly apologize before taking Spider's hand and tapping it a few times to let the boy know everything is fine. He continued the examination, peering at Brian's datapad on occasion to make sure they were marking everything in synch. Still, for some reason, he hates having his back on the door. The scan room is at the very back of the base with no doors leading out. This part of the base was encased within a cave wall, completely out of the way and inescapable if something were to happen. But it also meant they had the most time to react and would be the last to be hit in the case of an attack.

Hugh whipped around when he heard the distinct sound of someone yelling "Masks!" through the vent and then the sound of an alarm. More specifically the alarm for wing A having a breach. "What the fuck?!" Brian calls out in surprise. Hugh upon reflex grabs onto Spider's upper arm. If the general alarm went off his priority would be getting the child out first. 

"A breach in A? But no attack alarm:" Hugh looks at Brian for instruction. It's weird for their roles to be flipped like this. Hugh was Brian's superior having gone to more schools and spent more time on Pandora. It had always been him teaching Brian since he was his senior and had more notches on his belt. But Brian was a soldier before starting to study neuroscience. He had the training and the battle knowledge to act quickly and know where to go when need be. He could actually use a gun too, something that Hugh had never done in his whole life. 

Brian whips out his comm and starts talking into it. He gestures for Hugh to stay put and wait which is something the man is more than happy to do. Is his heart racing? Yes, it's definitely racing. He moves to stand in front of Spider, eyes carefully on the door, at least until more clamoring sounds from the vents. 

Hugh grabs his comm too, clicking it on, but no static comes through. He frowns and taps the comm on the palm of his hand a few times. "My comms out of battery Brian."

"Something's weird with mine too. I think everyone is trying to use the line at the same time. Can't make sense of anything. Sounds like just wing A has a breach though." Brian walked over and gently laid his hand on Hugh's wrist, before moving his hand down to interlock their fingers tightly. Sometimes High Camp had moments of panic. An aircraft that passes by. An ambush gone wrong. Troops a little too close by for comfort. But nobody had actually gotten to High Camp. And the morning alarm proved each day that the attack alarm was working. So it couldn't be that they were under attack and the alarm just chose today to not work. Right?

Hugh had been among the first ones to betray the RDA in the war, and Brian had followed. That didn't mean they got out unscathed. One of Hugh's arms being titanium from the elbow down was a reminder enough of that. Brian's biggest failure. Not managing to keep Hugh safe back then. He always wore a glove in that hand to hide his prosthetic. He did it partly because the titanium tended to be cold. But also so his partner wouldn't always be reminded of his guilty consciousness. One that Hugh had often tried to soothe in vain. The glove creaked against the palm of Brian's hand. Briefly, they lean their foreheads together. "It's nothing. It's gonna be a false alarm, Hugh. Weren't the mechanics planning to replace the sealants on the entryway doors anyway? Maybe those just finally gave out."

"Are we taking a break? Hugh? Brian?" Spider sounds confused, but unconcerned so Hugh taps his knee reassuringly. He isn't sure why he doesn't take the blindfold off of the boy and properly end the examination. Maybe he just doesn't want to spook him in case it's nothing. The boy has already been through so much. He shouldn't have to have a moment of fear at High Camp when he'd just gotten back. 

"Yeah, it's probably that:" Hugh says, but his voice wavers and shows off his worry. 

Brian lets go of Hugh's hand and walks over to the gun locker in the room: "I'm gonna grab a pistol just in case, but you keep working on Spider, okay? I'll stand by the door until we can actually make sense of the comms."

Hugh takes a deep breath and then picks his tools back up: "Sounds like a plan. I'll continue with the digital markings off of your datapad."

After a few minutes, the vents go silent for a moment. Wing A must be evacuating. The quiet doesn't last long. 

Wing A is the entrance area. It's quite large as it consists of five main rooms. If the rest of the rooms didn't open their doors and the breach was at the entryway like Brian thought then only the main hallway should be flooding with Pandoran air. But that would leave everyone in the other rooms stuck in them until the breach was found and fixed. It wasn't necessarily dangerous, but probably not worth it for so many people to stay in one room just to preserve the air in them. Evacuation of wing A in its entirety would be a better plan.

"I feel that."

"That feels normal."

"Oh, yeah, I don't feel that anymore I forgot to say."

Listening to Spider was soothing and kept Hugh's mind on the task at hand. Sometimes he threw a look Brian's way. The man was suddenly looking so much more like the soldier he used to be instead of the doctor he was now. He'd thrown off the labcoat and had his green army shirt in full display. He had combat pants on, something that the man had always preferred due to the surplus of pockets on them. He was leaning to the side of the doorframe, body taut with await and gun tightly in hand. His dog tags glistened from the LED lights on the ceiling. Hugh could almost see him on the battlefield now. Looking very alike to the day that Hugh lost his arm. 

The man had to shake his head and focus back on Spider.

A couple of minutes went by. A metallic screeching sound started through the vent. A door was slammed open very hard somewhere, only to be repeated over and over again. 

Hugh can't help the droplets of sweat that start at his brow. He feels less sure of their choice not to make a run for it as time goes on. But he trusts Brian's instinct. 

Stomping was coming along the hallway. And it was coming their way fast. Heavy, Na'vi heavy. 

"Are we taking a break again?" Spider asks when Hugh stops his examination again.

Brian sends a quiet nod to Hugh's way and Hugh picks up a scalpel from the table nearby, positioning himself in front of Spider while Brian takes a few steps back from the door to point the barrel of his gun right at the center of it.

Moments pass and Hugh feels like he's been transported back into that day. His pulse races and his palms sweat. His hand shakes so badly that he isn't sure he's going to be able to keep hold of the scalpel. His other hand stays on Spider's knee. The boy had grown quiet now just waiting for them to either continue or take his headset off and announce that they're all done.

When the door swings over a panicked Norm inside his Avatar comes through. He has no weapons on him, and he's dressed very plainly, definitely not like he's going off to battle. But his outfit is crumpled and he has a scrape on his cheek: "Hey Hugh hop into your Avatar now we need you out there. Brian leave the gun, but come along too."

Brian immediately points his gun away from their friend, a worry still etched on his face and readiness lining his body. His shoulders drop and he holsters his gun. He sends a look Hugh's way before moving out of the way to let Norm in. Norm goes to a cabinet with sedatives in it. 

"What's going on Norm?" Hugh asks, stepping away from Spider to approach with quick steps. 

"It's Jake, we need you in your Avatar now."

"Jake?"

Norm nods before running his palm down his face to wipe the sweat off of his forehead. His chest rises and falls so fast, he's clearly been physically pushing himself. He wrenches open the cabinet and starts rattling through vials and syringes looking for something. "Where is the E2-66?" Norm asks as he combs through more and more vials. He grabs a clean syringe from the cabinet too and places it into his back pocket. His hand shakes as he fiddles with it, nearly dropping it twice due to his tremors. Even his arms glisten with sweat.

"E2-66? What the hell do you need a Na'vi sedative for?" Hugh asks, eyebrows high up on his forehead. 

"Jake."

"Jake? You need a sedative... For Jake?" Brian repeats, just as confused as Hugh is. 

"Yes, because we can't find Spider anywhere and it's made Jake-" A rage-filled roar comes down the hall and through the open door. "Like that." Norm throws a nervous glance behind himself towards the door only for his eyes to catch onto something: "Spi- Spider?" 

Spider is still sitting on the table, fully oblivious, swinging his legs slightly. He's scratching his knee while his other hand grips the edge of the table. The headset looks ridiculous on him as does the makeshift blindfold. 

"That was Jake?" Hugh says with a very notable level of shock in his voice when the yell repeats down the hall. That's more of a shock than finding out that people think Spider is missing on base somewhere.

"Why the hell do you two have Spider?!" Norm asks, angry and immediately marching towards the boy. "And why the fuck is he wearing that shit?"

"We were doing tests on him. He was on the schedule so I fetched him from the medical ward:" Brian says, going to the door in order to peek down the hallway. 

Norm spins back around menacingly halfway over to the boy: "What the hell were you thinking? Jake thinks he's been taken!" 

Hugh goes for damage control. He quickly grabs the spare vial of E2-66 from his own desk and hands it to Norm: "Well taken or not why is Jake yelling this much? This isn't like him." 

Norm grabs the vial violently and shoves it into a pocket. He looks utterly done with this whole day, his age showing on his face for once. He wipes his hands down his shirt to get rid of the nervous sweat on his palms. "Some idiot was doing tests at the lab and poked him with an adrenaline needle. And you know how Na'vi get on adrenaline. He was just fine at first until Mo'at came to tell him that she has to leave because Laípan is finally giving birth and she needs to be there to deliver the baby. So Jake goes to watch over Spider in the medical ward only for his son to not be there! The same son that has been taken before, who he got back less than a month ago from being kidnapped for months by the RDA! And mind you he's high on adrenaline with fresh memories of his oldest son dying." 

"Oh, shit-" Hugh says. He's come face to face with a Na'vi test subject on adrenaline once in his life. It had been a secret experiment before the war on a smaller RDA base he was sent to for about two weeks. They'd captured an Omatikaya man and were doing all kinds of chemical tests on him. But the effects of adrenaline? Now that was something else. He'd looked into that Na'vi's eyes and seen nothing but hollow anger staring back. There had been strong enough glass between the two of them to take a decent missile, but the Na'vi had still cracked it. That place had been horrifying enough to solidify his allyship with the Na'vi for the rest of his life. There was simply no coming back from it.

"You two dipshits have managed to grab Spider in the ten-minute window that he was alone." Shit... Shit. Norm never swears. Hugh is only just now noticing that there is a huge tear on the bottom of the man's shirt and his left knee is scuffed enough for the fabric of his pants to have ripped open there. His eye is blossoming a new bruise. He'd been punched. "Now Jake is wrecking the shit out of the base looking for him! He ripped a hole through a window in wing A so wing A is out of use, and he's torn two security doors off of their hinges. He's on a rampage looking for his son and I can't stop him alone. We're lucky he hasn't killed anyone. He fucked up the lights out of wing C so it's entirely dark in there now, not to mention the fact that the sprinkles went on in wing E after Jake's desolation of it so now it's flooding in there. The other Avatar drivers are out so I need you in your Avatar right now Hugh so we can sedate him." Norm nods his head towards the door as a sign for them to go immediately.

"I'm pretty sure it's too late:" Hugh whispers when he hears steps at the end of the hall. They increase in speed, rapidly approaching. "He's going to fucking kill us."

Norm groans in some mixture of fear and annoyance: "Well, you two did say till death do you part. Let's see how soon that will be." Norm's words come out as seething as he takes his position next to the door; his hands trembling and quivering as he pulls out the needle and vial and starts filling the needle with E2-66.

"He can't come in here:" Brian says remembering full well what his husband had told him about Na'vi on adrenaline. He looks rapidly between Norm and Hugh. "We need to just- take Spider and put him back into the medical ward for him to find."

Norm lets out a mirthless chuckle: "That would have been a fantastic plan about five minutes ago. Now I'm just going to try and live long enough to strangle whoever spiked Jake."

Chapter Text

"Mawey Jake... Lu mawey!" /calm Jake... be calm/ Norm speaks loudly, hands up and forward in defense. Jake looks bigger somehow, dwarfing the doorway designed for Na'vi access. His eyes were wild with a sort of derangement. His body doesn't move fluidly, not even as he took in large breaths of exertion. Instead, he twitched, in this bizarre snapping way that looked like he was dislocating his own bones with movement. He didn't seem to be made out of smooth muscle and curved lines anymore, but jagged edges and a rough exterior. If Norm imagined a corpse with rigor mortis suddenly reanimating, he'd think it'd move like this. Jake's fingers were curled and spasming going from one extreme position to another, like clenching something in the air. "Mawey..." /calm/

Brian pulled his gun back out from fright, aiming it at Jake even while fully knowing the man was an ally. He stood in front of his husband, ready to protect from what he saw had become a monster. Norm and Hugh know this is a fight that Brian would lose in an instant, gun or not. Moving with a shaking hand Hugh pushes down his husband's aiming arm. Whispering to him to put down the gun and be calm just as Norm attempted to persuade Jake to give way. Three men at a standstill with a boy at the back of the room none the wiser to the dangers that lurk ahead of him.

"Brian... Just stay still:" Hugh whispers, not allowing his eyes to leave Jake's frame. He feels transported back in time. He would bet good money that his face now reflected the exact same mortification it had the last time he'd stared down a Na'vi on adrenaline. His eyes burned from how long he'd kept from blinking. It doesn't help that they are open as wide as they can be, certain that if he blinks his throat will be cut. Jake is just like the Na'vi he remembers from that torture chamber the RDA called an 'off-base research facility'. As much as Jake's eyes show anger and rage the rest of his face is entirely slack. Showing no emotion. It's all in his eyes. There is no snarl or show of teeth, only a gaze that seems to imagine a hundred ways to rip you apart. His veins are visible, his eyes narrowed in. His heart is beating so fast it can almost be seen thumping against his chest. 

"Jake... Frawzo:" /all is well/ Norm tries to say, showing off that he holds no weapon in his hands. With very slow and calculated moves he stills his hand at the blade strapped to his belt before pulling it out of its sheath. Jake's head shivers before it snaps from Brian to Norm. There is an audible crunch. "See? I am not a threat." Norm drops the knife, the sound of it reverberating through the room. Metal to metal, clattering before it stills.

Brian has his safety off, and a finger on the trigger; gun pointed at the ground somewhere between himself and Jake. He is a soldier, but so is Jake. And Brian is not only an evolutionary underdog due to his smaller size and weaker body. His reflexes are slower too, and Jake has him beat ten to one in experience, training, and strategy. Brian has not seen combat in ages, but Jake is an accomplished marine and a Na'vi warrior. 

"Hugh..." Norm starts, taking a few steps back from Jake. He refuses to break eye contact worried that if he looks behind himself at the two doctors Jake will see his opportunity and move. "How did the RDA neutralize the Na'vi on that research base?"

Hugh's voice is just a quiver, a hand clenching Brian's shirt until the edge of it was pulled from under his belt and it rumpled in his hand: "They didn't. Two days after I was sent back to the main base he broke out... And killed all of the twenty-four men stationed there." He swallows, the words heavy on his tongue. If Na'vi were rabid when injected with adrenaline then Jake would surely kill them, but if they kept some level of awareness they might have a chance. They'd just need to do exactly the right moves at exactly the right time. 

Jake's body shakes, vibrates really when his eyes land on Spider. His head tilts to the side so quickly it kind of looks like someone had just snapped his neck from behind. Jake takes a step forward stuttering ahead in that abnormal harrowing way. There is no sound when his foot hits the ground.

Hugh draws in a horrified breath and Brian brandishes his gun again, aiming at Jake once more.

The door behind Jake slowly swings closed, locking them into the room with an apex predator set on killing them. Norm would prefer a thanator.

"Do not, Brian:" Norm warns his friend signaling for the man to lower his weapon. "Just be still, do not move. Look away from him."

"There isn't a chance in hell I'm looking away from that thing:" Brian says, his teeth clenched as he speaks, most words turning into seething sounds. In his eyes, Jake doesn't look human or Na'vi. He looks possessed, taken over by something dark and deadly. Above all, Brian would protect his husband and if staring down some dark creature was what he needed to do then he'd do it without a thought.

Norm pivots to follow Jake; his eyes now on the man's back, watching as his muscles constrict with his movements. Norm stays slow too, mimicking, though he looks far more awkward and uncertain than Jake. With a shuddering breath, he gives an order: "Stand down Brian. He is only here to take his child. If he thinks you took Spider he will slaughter you for it, if you look at him; you challenge him." Norm speaks as if he was quoting an Animal Planet episode that focused on how to act in a bear attack. But how would he know? Was he simply guessing? This scenario was unprecedented. The only information they had from a similar case ended in the Na'vi slaughtering everyone, and those humans were simply torturing him instead of standing between him and his child. That saying on earth about how stepping between a mother bear and its cub would always get you killed also fits the Na'vi. Nothing made them more bloodthirsty than someone hurting their children.

Brian takes a very small step back. He can hear clothing rustling as Hugh turns his head away. Jake looks like he's watching the greatest treasure in the world, his eyes refusing to leave the boy sitting on an examination table while swinging his legs. The man is moving in such tiny, quick twitches he looks like stop animation from a horror movie. Suddenly he was a blur of moment, and he'd ended up five feet closer. He'd moved so fast it had looked like he'd teleported. And now... His eyes are so glued to Brian's that the human forgets to breathe. He can hear Jake's lungs rattle.

"Brian..." Norm warns once more. He's stopped approaching Jake and has instead slowly moved to the edge of the room. "Just... Look away from his eyes. And slowly start backing away."

Brian's mouth is full of saliva. His quick breath bursts some of it out. He inhales and takes a jagged step back. Drawing his eyes away from Jake's feels like the hardest thing he'd ever done. He feels like his other senses are returning to him as he chooses to stare at a stripe on Jake's arm instead. His whole nervous system had drawn all of his attention to the man; fight or flight kicking in with an attempt to keep him mentally awake enough to survive. Now he can hear the air conditioning whirring and Hugh's panicked breath. He can feel the hand clutched in his shirt, and the shoe pressed tightly next to his. He can sense the eerie quiet that only moves out of the way of the smallest sounds.

Like water dripping one little droplet at a time like a leaky faucet. His eyes trail down Jake's arm and find that the man's palms are ripped open and slowly cascade drops of blood to the floor... Into a puddle. Jake's blood had pooled on the ground. How long had it taken him to look away after Jake had moved closer? Jake's body has cuts and bruises all over it. His palms are the worst, but he generally looks like he's walked through hell and back to get here. A very light wooshing sound repeats over and over. It's Jake's tail swaying across the floor; the man was excited to kill them.

Brian has to clench his eyes shut. There is a snapping sound and suddenly he can feel Jake's breath on his forehead. He clicks the safety on and drops his gun, something he'd been taught to never do. It lands in Jake's blood splashing drops of it around.

He places his hand behind himself onto Hugh's outer thigh and then squeezes as a signal for them to step back at the same time. He knows he won't have the bravery to do so if his eyes are open. So he keeps them closed as he carefully tries to make distance from Jake. He feels like prey begging for mercy. 

Hugh stops behind him, as he is as far back as he can go, pressed against the wall. Brian ends up squeezed against him, and still attempting to back up. Because to him; he hasn't moved at all. The breath he'd felt against his face when he'd closed his eyes; was still there. 

They were cornered. Pressed in tightly to a spot they wouldn't get out of.

"Don't- move:" Norm reiterates. He hasn't moved from where he was before based on the orientation of his voice.

Moments turn into something that feels like hours. His own breathing subconsciously starts matching Jake's. He breathes slowly now, unnaturally slowly instead of fast like when he'd first entered. It makes Brian feel a little light-headed. He's going to die here today. He hears the sound of a knife unsheathing and feels the dagger holster on his hip lighten. Jake is going to kill him with his own knife. The movement is so slow and deliberate with no hesitation. He knows the sun is setting on his final day. He'd be at peace with it if his husband wasn't right behind him. He didn't want to die brutally against Hugh. Hugh didn't deserve the trauma of going through that.

But then: "Um, hello?" Spider speaks finally unsure if their break is still in continuation.

The dagger drops back into the sheath and with the sound of crunching bone and snapping joints, the breathing disappears from Brian's face. The rattling sound that accompanied each inhale retreats. Hugh gasps for breath behind him. The hand Hugh still has clenched in his shirt shakes wildly with nerves. Spider unwittingly had just saved their lives. A child's confused calling set ablaze the fatherly instinct of a man out hunting. There was a need now in Jake to check on his child and take him home.

Brian cracks an eye open. Jake is towering over Spider, his body twisted oddly. He looks like a huge creature in comparison to the boy. Spider's hand lifts and lands on his blindfold, wanting to pull it off. 

Jake's hand grips the edge of the metal table Spider sits on and the surface of it seems to just give way under his fingers like wet sand. The metal bends, taking the shape of Jake's clenched fist.

"Child:" Hearing Jake speak is like watching a thanator suddenly gain consciousness. His voice is unrecognizable. Hollow and croaky like he'd spent a hundred years in a grave before being dug up. "Spider." No. It sounded like the same buried man was seeing sunlight for the first time. Jake vibrates again, like cold shocks going down his spine. His tail swings calmer, his posture a tad less threatening.

One of Jake's hands lands on Spider's back. The other is on his knee. And then Jake and the boy are gone. 

Shock keeps Brian still for a long time. When he finally has the courage to move; his muscles feel like he'd been straining them for hours. He looks to the door. One of the metal doors has been ripped out of its hinges and lies on the floor now, warped around a huge dent in the middle. The other hangs barely intact from the frame. Two desks have been thrown aside, swung at the wall with one of them crushed to pieces. Papers and desk items are strewn about the room. All of this damage is along the beeline way from where Spider had been seated and the door. 

Norm is peeking into the hallway, knife back in his hand now and a comm up at face level, shouting warnings to everyone at base. Jake was approaching and they had no idea where the man was going.

Spider's shouted protests echo in Brian's head even if they can't be heard from down the hall anymore.

Chapter Text

A click sounds from Norm's comm before he begins speaking into it: "He's taking him outside. Just stay out of his way, hide if you feel the need, and let him go." The static on the channel was so strong there was no real proof that anyone had heard the man, but Norm still needed to give his people a warning.

Brian was checking on Hugh, though he already knew there wouldn't be a scratch on his husband. He released a relieved sigh once some of the anxious pressure was released from his chest. His heart beat like that of a hummingbird the thrumming of it loud in his own ears. He can practically feel the blood gushing in his body traveling through him to keep him fast and ready to run. Now with the danger over he feels like his brain is working overtime to distinguish if it actually is safe to lower his guard or not.

"Outside? How do you know he's taking Spider outside?" Hugh asks, his body fully trembling. He pulls Brian's worried hands off of him and chooses to simply clutch the other man's palms with his own. Cold sweat seems to coat both their skin.

Norm turns to look back at the two men in the room with him. His tail swings in an agitated manner behind him. Only now does Hugh realize that Norm has a black eye. Sometimes bruising was hard to see in a Na'vi body. He doesn't need to guess how he got his injury. "He took a mask from the wall:" Norm says, nodding towards a wall-mounted rig that held emergency masks. Usually, there would be three hanging from it, but now there were only two.

Hugh blinks, before rubbing at his chin. His beard is rough against the back of his hand. 

He looks at Brian quickly and they share a meaningful look. Jake taking the mask meant something. It proved that the man was aware and an intelligent being even when under the influence of adrenaline. Jake could remember that Spider was human and take it into account when thinking of the boy's survival. He made choices that wouldn't put the boy at risk. But... This also proved it wasn't some monster with no empathy or awareness that had truly considered killing Brian; it had simply been Jake. 

A shiver ran through Hugh's body as his hand clutched his husbands tighter for a moment. Their wedding bands clanked together with a soft metallic sound. 

"Are you two alright?" Norm asks as he takes a few steps to approach.

Hugh nods. "We are fine:" Brian confirms. They stand close to one another, slightly tremoring and sweaty. A lot would need to be done in this room. It was left a mess. "You should go. We can deal with the damage in this room, but you're needed out there."

"Yeah, go Norm:" Hugh also encourages. Norm looks unsure for a moment, maybe since he can see visible signs of shock in the two men. But Hugh and Brian had been married a long time and they'd seen much together. There was no one else who could comfort them more than the other. He was not needed here though the same could not be said for the rest of the base. 

He needed to put together a team of mechanics to fix the breach in area A. He needed to secure the other areas and block access into the base for a while to stop Jake from coming back in should he have the inclination to do so. Repairs were high on the list as was gathering their people together for a meeting about today's debacle. And then there was the case of dealing with whatever clumsy idiot had managed to inject Jake with the adrenaline. Such a thing could not be brushed off. "I-" Norm started, partly because he wanted to argue leaving while Hugh's knee kept giving up under him from how hard it shook and Brian's eyes still had that 'soldier having a PTSD episode' look to them.

"Go."

He left.

Having someone grab him and throw him over their shoulder while he was both blind and deaf scared Spider half to death. He'd never really been great at the flight part of fight or flight so he immediately started struggling, clawing, and biting the person that had taken him. He screamed his throat raw within seconds since he was out of practice, but his teeth hadn't dulled with time. He bit deep into what he had to presume was a shoulder and then immediately yanked himself away at the foul taste of blood in his mouth. Whoever was carrying him was unphased, continuing on without even an acknowledgment of what he'd done. 

"Let go of me! Put me down!" He yelled, most likely spitting up blood as he did so. His blindfold started drooping from his face, but with the confused orientation, he seemed incapable of actually grabbing the offending fabric to be able to pull it away. He pounded his fists against any muscle he could find, and yelled as much as he could: "Release me!" His own voice was obviously afraid and without how strangely his captor was walking, his words kept getting cut in half as air would leave his lungs with an especially large jostle. 

The thought of his father being here choked a few cuss words in his throat. This is how he'd been taken from the forest last time; flung over a Na'vi-sized shoulder and whisked away, his fight having no effect on the bigger man. Not this time. He'd fight back with every bit he had. Last time much of his motivation had been gone the second he'd seen that the Sully kids had gotten away, but now he'd struggle for High Camp. His fingers grabbed onto a familiar texture of dreads and pulled them hard, only to feel the pain in his own scalp. He scratched all over the back of the person carrying him and hissed warnings and threats alike. He didn't care if this was Quaritch and he'd anger the man by fighting back. If Quaritch was this deep into High Camp it would mean the Na'vi warriors had fallen outside and the humans had fallen within the base, so he would owe them his full anarchy.

For a moment he thought whoever carried him had a limp due to the strange movement, and tried to kick out his abductor's legs, only to fail. There was something inhumane about how they moved each movement was jutted and unpredictable. They'd slump forward before standing so tall Spider thought he was gracing the ceiling. 

His headset fell off, sound returning to him in such a rush it spooked him for a second. He could hear a fire crackling somewhere close and a warning siren of a breach further in the direction they were going. Whoever carries him is light on their feet, since their footfalls make no sound. But their breathing. Deep and rattling like in the final stages of a bad case of pneumonia. It sounds awful.

Panic seizes his chest suddenly tenfold when he hears the sound of power cables spewing out sparks. Something has happened to the base, so they must have been attacked. As much as it felt unrealistic maybe this was his father. His heart skips a beat at the thought, some strange hiding feeling of elation beating somewhere in his chest. It makes him nauseous to admit. He can't hear any people and that is always a bad sign on base. "Stop! I am not going with you! You can't take me!" Spider yells once more, struggling for his life and kicking at the air. The pressure of weight on his chest feels awful and he wonders if his stitches will pop.

The sound of the breach alarm grows closer. He doesn't have a mask. They suddenly stop and still with a sway. Spider can feel the person carrying him move and then hears the sound of metal tearing. A human can't handle Pandoran air and as the metal tears the breach alarm for area B starts blaring. With a woosh more Pandoran air enters the room, and Spider knows his time is up. 

Before he can even think about it any further, with the knowledge that he only has maybe two lungfuls of air he can use to shout before he can't speak anymore; a name rips out of his throat: "Jake! Help!" He struggles with all his might, hearing his voice reverberate off of the walls and echo back at him. "Jake! Jake!" The next gasp of air stings and feels like a fourth of a lungful instead of the full deep breath he'd tried to take. 

All he can think of is that the person he trusts here the most is Jake. Jake didn't save him from the RDA, but here they had a home-field advantage. Even if the man were to save him just once in his life and leave him to die every other time then let him be saved today. Jake was kind, Jake was gentle. Jake could save him if he was close enough to hear. 

He wanted Jake. He wanted to go lie back down on his hospital bed with the man smoothing out his covers and checking on his IV every two seconds. He wanted that unnecessarily deep worry that fathers show their children. 

If Jake would only save him now then he wouldn't complain about bedrest anymore. He'd just be grateful that Jake was there.

But maybe his time has simply come. He'd always been sloppy with his masks, never taking a spare, always trusting that it wouldn't break. Stopped checking his sealants and just threw on any random mask he found. Now he'd die for it, his luck finally having ran out.

The person carrying him swings him off of their shoulders, holding him still in the air in front of himself, and yanks off his blindfold. 

Spiders worries of air drift away. It's Jake. Jake has been carrying him this whole time, and suddenly he can hear and see nothing else. His feet swing in the air a little as he can't reach the ground even when he tries. The room they are in is dark, with only the red emergency lights glowing along the walls. Jake's left side is illuminated in that deep red color, his eyes reflecting back the light of an exit sign. In this light, he looks more like a predator than ever before, though Spider struggles to see anything beyond the basic shapes on Jake's face. Jake's eyes stare at him, wide and open, but not in an angry way. His eyes roam over Spider as if he were looking for injury in one of the Sully kids. 

"Jak-" Spider tries to say only to gulp in a shallow breath. His mouth makes that inhaling gasping sound of trying to breathe only to not be able to. Jake looks away from him, trailing the walls until his eyes seem to land on an alarm siren. He seems aware of the breach only now and brings Spider closer to himself in order to carry him like a baby. Spider would struggle if he wasn't worried about air all over again now. 

He hears the familiar strap on Jake's tweng belt give away and then feels the familiarity of a mask being placed on his face. /loincloth/ Jake's hand on the mask is so large it covers almost all of it, limiting Spider's visibility. With the press of a button and the release of air Spider takes in a big breath, fogging the mask for a moment. 

"Jake?!" He gasps out once he can. "Are we under attack?" 

He gets no answer, only the feeling of movement returning. Two more airlocks release and Spider watches lamps pass over on the ceiling. Sometimes the light from above gives Jake a halo from this viewpoint.

An airlock hisses open, doors slide out of the way, and suddenly he is outside, the brisk wind nipping at his skin.