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shu-box-puns · 1 year

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I never would have given you to them; not for anything

(Tsu’tey x Reader)

Part 1 -> Next Chapter

If you prefer to read on Ao3, you can find the fic here!

Summary: The RDA unknowingly revives a traitor through Project Phoenix.

Word Count: 11,251

Reader uses they/them pronouns.

NOTE: The term 'Zaza' is a gender neutral way to address a parental figure.

Connecting to the Tree of Souls was always bittersweet for Tsu'tey.

Eywa was a kind mother. For a few short moments, he could be reunited with everyone he had previously lost. He could ask Eytukan for guidance on being Olo’eyktan, or speak with Sylwanin when his grief threatened to overwhelm him.

And other times, Eywa would gift him a glimpse into a vision that could’ve been his reality, if events had played out differently.

The phantom of HomeTree was booming with life. Those who lived there were distant and concealed from view by the colossal roots of the great tree or simply occupying the foliage beyond its shade. Tsu’tey found himself sitting upon a log, his knife in hand which he was using to shape an arrow head.

A fire roared at his feet, meat cooking over the flames whilst the joyous yells of children darted to and fro behind his turned back. He couldn’t help but smile softly to himself, reminded of the early years in Spider’s development when the boy had finally grown large enough to comfortably fit into an exo pack. Tsu’tey had been delighted, eager to take his son from the confines of the demon compound and let him loose on the clan.

Spider took to the outside like an ikran to the sky. Staring in wonder as Tsu’tey carried him into the heart of the village. Na’vi of all stations had cooed at him, offering Tsu’tey honest congratulations even if their eyes had held poorly concealed hesitance at the toddler giggling against his chest.

Within the hour, Spider had become fast friends with Jake’s children - Eywa help him - and was gleefully dirtying his loincloth as they tumbled and played.

“He has grown significantly.” A voice to his left suddenly commented, ripping Tsu’tey from his private musings. He made to turn to whoever was sat with him, but some untold force kept his gaze glued to the arrowhead he was carving.

“Children tend to.” Tsu’tey responded easily, the English falling thick and accented off of his tongue.

His secret companion merely hummed, leaning into his side. Tsu’tey caught sight of blue skin in his peripheral. Five fingered hands falling to demon style clothed knees. His expression tightened. Confusion swirling beneath his skin.

“A mighty warrior in the making.” The stranger praised, undercurrents of pride lacing their tone. “I am glad his aim has greatly improved.”

Tsu’tey lifted his gaze from the arrowhead as the words registered. His questioning response was halted by the sudden absence of the clan chatter and the crackling of the flames at his feet. His eyes flickered, expressing softening as he realised the scenery had changed.

Now, he and his companion sat on a tree branch overlooking the Omaticaya flight range. Targets lined the far perimeter, whilst na’vi of all ages stood in uniformed rows at increasing distances from the targets, their bows drawn. Tsu’tey’s gaze immediately zeroed in on Spider.

Here he was about twelve, Neteyam alongside him as the two practised in companionable silence. Despite being a full year younger, Neteyam easily towered over the older boy, his frame lean and long, whilst Spider had grown strong and thick in the shoulders. His son held his bow with ease, the strain long having lessened with hours of practice.

The presence at his side had shrunk somehow. The warmth no longer reached his shoulder. A soft brush of skin to his lower bicep indicating that the na’vi who had sat with him had shrunk to a more human stature.

Tsu’tey could not place who this was. They did not sound like Grace Augustine who possessed both avatar and human forms on the off chance she visited him in the tree. Nor had he befriended any of the scientists who possessed avatar bodies.

A celebratory whoop drew his attention back to Spider, who was receiving awed high fives from Neteyam. Glancing to the target, Tsu’tey swelled with pride at the three perfect bullseyes.

He blinked, and he was in the old shack. Although in his present the stolen compound was overrun with wildlife and had fallen into disrepair, here, it looked well preserved. As fresh and disorganised as it had been the night the humans left for good.

It looked homely.

Lived in.

He was sitting on a bunk much too small for his large frame with a baby carrier strapped across his chest. His son was nowhere to be seen in this particular vision, but as always, he felt no sense of panic within Eywa’s care. He simply observed the small room around him, noting that the presence at his side had disappeared with the flight range.

The messy sheets he sat on told of a good night’s rest. The military boots neatly lined up by the door and the camouflage jacket hanging on the back of it, reassuring him that whoever he was visiting was close by.

Tucked under the window, the desk was a mess of coffee stained reports and various pens. Even from the other side of the room, he could make out the shakily written na’vi phrases repeated over several pages. He’d never seen his language written out before, since his people had no use for it, but somehow he instinctively knew the phrases.

Oel ngati kameie.

I see you.

Three words his mate had been practising behind his back. A secret he was very much aware of, but content to allow them to figure out.

The sound of the door opening drew his attention from the desk, and he found said mate looming in the doorway, their son cradled to their chest. They looked exhausted but proud of themselves. Spider was sound asleep, nestled into their tanktop, with one chubby fist clenched tightly around the courting necklace Tsu’tey had presented them with several moons ago.

“I finally got him to drop off.” His mate sighed happily as they stepped further into the room and quietly pulled the door closed behind them.

Tsu’tey could only hum. Greedily drinking in the sight of his mate and son. Gazing at the face that had been snatched from his too early, and the youth and innocence of Spider. He was sixteen now, years past infancy, but still Tsu’tey’s little boy. Whilst his mate was frozen in time. Forever held by Eywa.

“You good big guy?” The use of that ridiculous nickname snapped him back to the present. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

His lips stretched into a tight smile. The irony.

“I am fine.” He insisted. His english heavily accented and rusty from disuse. Since Spider had become fully fluent in na’vi, he hardly ever had to use the demon tongue. But somehow, Eywa always switched them back to that language, despite having learnt plenty of na’vi through him.

Their proud grin dropped a fraction, their eyebrows drawing together. “Are you lying to me?”

He scoffed. “Olo’eyktan’s do not lie.” He said simply.

“You aren’t Olo’eyktan here.” They argued. Approaching him on quiet feet.

Feeling called out, Tsu’tey had to work hard to keep his ears from flicking back in guilt. Instead, he chose not to respond as his mate stepped into his space. Their scent wafted over him as they expertly manoeuvred the slumbering infant into the net tied across Tsu’tey’s chest. The motion was practised; familiar in a way his mate hadn’t had time to master.

Spider went easily. Instinctively curling into his father’s warmth and finding something new to latch onto. This time, Tsu’tey was not fast enough to keep his son from grabbing onto one of his braids. Even in sleep, Spider yanked hard on the braided lock of hair, making Tsu’tey wince. His mate chuckled softly, reaching up to carefully untangle Spider’s fist, to which the infant immediately curled his fingers around their index instead.

The scene was domestic. Something he had mourned when his mate had passed.

“You look tired.” His mate stated, those eyes studying his expression.

Tsu’tey could only nod. What use was lying to a memory anyway?

“I am.”

“You should rest.”

They titled their head, and Tsu’tey knew this was a battle he had no hope of winning. “Spider is waiting for you.” They said.

Carefully, they raised their free hand to hold his cheek, their expression worried. He leaned into the touch, savouring the warmth of their tiny hand against his cool skin.

His words were slow to come back to him. But they waited patiently, idly tracing the stars of his freckles as he gathered himself, his breathing uneven. “No. I want to stay here, with you.”

There was a power behind their words now. A greater knowledge they should not be privy to. Tsu’tey knew this wasn’t his mate speaking to him anymore. Despite looking and sounding like his human, this was Eywa gently nudging him. Reminding him that he had responsibilities to attend to and a son waiting beyond her realm.

He followed his mate’s nod towards the window where he found a sixteen year old Spider standing patiently at the treeline, looking longingly towards the compound. He knew without looking down that the infant was gone from the sling at his chest. His son wore his exopack and was wringing his hands, head darting too and fro in search of someone. Rocking on the balls of his feet as often did when unsettled.

Tearing his gaze from his son, Tsu’tey found and held eye contact with the Great Mother disguised as his lost mate. “Will you allow him to visit today?” He asked.

“He will See soon.” Eywa replied in their voice, untold power building behind every word.

His mate’s hands were small but strong as they took him by the wrists and helped him rise from his seat on the bed. “He is waiting.” They informed him, gently guiding him away from the desk littered in papers and towards the closed door. Tsu’tey’s heart ached at the familiar gesture. This part was always the hardest.

“He misses them.” He told Eywa and she could only nod in acknowledgement. “He watches their video logs.” He insisted, stomach sinking at the thought of his mate not knowing how badly Spider loved and missed them. That they might believe they had faded from the child’s memory, when in truth they’d always played such a crucial role. “He asks about them, always. Demanding memories, facts. Anything.”

“He will See soon.” Eywa repeated, and Tsu’tey knew she understood.

They squeezed his hand and he realised he was standing before the door with the boots neatly lined up beside it. He glanced at them one last time, absorbing all their little details and committing them to memory. His mate smiled at him one last time, before they dropped his hands and stepped back.

“I know.”

“You will See soon.” Eywa assured him, but Tsu’tey was no Tsahik and did not understand how to interpret the phrase. So he simply nodded.

>_<

They said no more as he raised his hand to push the door open, and in kind, Tsu’tey could only nod as his words got lost in his throat. Instead of responding, he turned and stepped out of the bedroom into the hall.

The sounds of the forest came back to him slowly. He felt the change of the humidity as Eywa gently returned him to his body. He sat crossed legged under the glowing vines of the Tree of Souls, his heartbeat still pounding in time to the gentle pulses of the ancient tree. Animals moved in the bushes behind him, uncaring of his presence and content to go about their evening.

He felt the familiar dry, flaky sensation of mourning paint running from the top of his brow down the line of his nose to his chin. His bullet scars felt stiff against his skin with every deep breath. Whilst a body leant into his side. Small and warm in a way that na’vi were not.

Slowly, Tsu’tey peeled his eyelids open and glanced down to find Spider curled into him. His exopack was digging uncomfortably into Tsu’tey’s ribs, but he didn’t care. Now sixteen, his boy leaned into his side and had dragged Tsu’tey’s arm out of his lap to rest across his back. Keeping him safe and secure whilst his father communed with the ancestors.

His tail swayed happily at the adorable sight.

Sensing a shift in him, Spider groggily raised his head from Tsu’tey’s rib cage. His eyes were unfocused as he lifted his heavy head, only to find Tsu’tey already looking at him. He blinked slowly, drawing in a deep breath as he stretched and sat up.

<”Who was it today?”> Spider asked in fluent na’vi, his tone heavy with sleep.

Tsu’tey felt the corner of his mouth stretch upwards into an adoring smile. His boy was so precious. <”Zaza.”> He replied simply, to which Spider returned his smile.

<”It is late.”> Spider agreed, to which Tsu’tey playfully ruffled his braids, ears pricked at the boy’s mischievous grin. Carefully, Tsu’tey reached up and disconnected his kuru from the tree, sending a prayer of thanks to Eywa for her gift.

<”And where did you end up going?”>

<”The old shack.”> Tsu’tey replied simply, reaching up to disconnect his tswin from the Tree of Souls. <”They were trying to convince you to go to bed.”>

<”We should return to the village.”>

<”Only if you carry me.”> Spider stated, lifting his arms expectantly to Tsu’tey who rolled his eyes.

<”You have been hanging around Lo’ak too much. So whiny.”>

<”You are old enough to carry yourself.”>

<”But it’s late!”> Spider retaliated.

<”Don’t let him hear you say that or he’ll become ten times worse.”> Considering the boy was Jake’s son, Tsu’tey didn’t doubt it.

>_<

The last thing you remembered was lying down in a link unit.

The smell of silicone had been poisonously strong in the tight space as one of the scientists closed the lid on you with a firm click. Your heart had been pounding, your plan to escape and meet up with Jake plaguing your mind. Distracting you from the half assed explanation of why Selfridge had ordered all military personnel into the link rooms.

You weren’t sure if you made it out of Hell’s Gate that night, let alone if Trudy had managed to drive you to the secret compound. If you’d been caught, or if your squad had noticed your absence.

Not that any of it mattered now, considering you were in outer space and the Battle for The Tree of Souls had ended fifteen years prior.

Now, you stared blankly at the pre-recorded video of yourself in that same laboratory. In the video, you were decked out in your usual, military attire and were horribly explaining what was going on. Floating in zero gravity, your hand - now blue and much, MUCH bigger than you were used to - kept you in place before the monitor with an unnervingly tight grip.

The you of the past wasn’t focused on their task. You could tell from the shift of their eyes as marines moved around them behind the camera. In a similar situation, your nerves were also all over the place. Your eyes were constantly darting around the small bunk room as your tail thrashed. So many enemies in such a small place.

It had been a fucking shock to wake up disoriented on a small hospital bed with a heart monitor beeping away in the background. Only for a massive, blue forehead to dart into your line of sight, dragging with it, a pair of large, unblinking eyes. You screamed, flailing weakly at the enormous bald head of Lyle Wainfleet.

You recalled blinding rage in your most recent memory of this man.

He had grinned at you, yelling loudly, “morning Private!”

You had punched him, that past anger carrying over as you shoved him away with an additional well placed kick to the stomach and a ferocious hiss. Movement in the corner of your vision kept you from following him down, intending to choke the life out of his stupid, grinning face.

Alexander had been quick to grip your bicep, holding on tightly. He was smiling at you. And it was fucking disorientating to see his face on a na’vi body, his eyes too far apart and his nose flatter than you were used to. It stunned you into stillness.

On the floor, Lyle had chuckled good naturedly and complimented you on your improved strength.

You hadn’t responded, your eyes widening as you took in your reflection in the one way window. It was you, but it also wasn’t you staring back.

On the monitor, the human version of you scratched the back of their neck, clearly reading off of a script to the side of the camera, blurting some bullshit about the RDA storing your memories and implanting them in an avatar embryo. Your expression remained neutral as you glanced down to past-you’s throat.

Mostly hidden beneath the hem of their camouflage shirt, you caught sight of a pretty little choker, the polished beads catching the laboratory lights. It was simple in design, layered three times tall with long, brown beads as the centrepiece, framed either side by carefully selected circular red beads.

Subconsciously, your blue hand reached to your own throat, frowning at the naked skin only for your fingers to catch on the metal chain of your dog tag. It sent a stab of phantom pain through your chest, which you were quick to rub away.

You remembered who had given it to you. What he had been to you. But you didn’t know how it had ended. If the RDA had resurrected you for this stupid little project, then chances were, the human version of you was dead.

You had no idea who had died during the Battle of The Tree of Souls - clearly a lot of you judging by the number of recoms the RDA had paid for. There was no solid knowledge on how far the RDA had won, or how much of Pandora they had destroyed. For all you knew, everyone could be dead. The Omaticaya clan wiped off the face of the planet.

The windows of your little bunk room overlooked the vast embryo tanks of the recoms. As you half-listened to the video, you watched a trio of three scientists carefully extracting the body, of who you recognised to be the na’vi version of Mansk, from the closest tank. They took great care in cleaning the embryonic fluid from his airways before flying the body out of sight through an open door.

/Remember Private,/ the video stated, drawing your attention back once more, /the mission is not over./ There was something unreadable in human you’s eyes, their rage momentarily broadcasted across the screen. /Fight hard. Make me proud./

They couldn’t see you, but you found yourself nodding anyway.

Those words gave you a direction. Past you didn’t believe the fight was over, so you just had to pick up where you left off. And to do that, you needed to get back into the forest.

>_<

The RDA had made special uniforms for all the recoms and required you to be dressed and ready to move into the base upon landing. Their first mistake was willingly handling you a gun. Evidently, they had never recognised you as a traitor. You’d died with them still believing you were loyal. Now, you would exploit that weakness.

For now, you decided to play nice until they willingly unleashed you into the forest. You made jokes with Lyle, established yourself as one of the team. Laughing with the other recoms about escaping death, making wild accusations about what you’d do the next time you saw that traitor; Jake Sully.

It was easy. As it always had been.

As if nothing had changed. Like you were back in school and you’d all come back from the summer having had growth spurts and been up to god knows what.

As a squad, you fitted together effortlessly. Falling into a routine of sleeping in the dorms, getting up early for drills and training, only to spend the evenings goofing around. The recom bodies were years younger, practically brand new, so the energy required for such shenanigans was effortless.

Within a week, it felt like nothing had changed. The squad was blissfully unaware of what you had done in your past life behind their backs. To them, you were still their comrade.

Initially, you’d attempted to keep your distance.

The forest called to you. It’s pull even stronger now with the additional na’vi instincts, and the small hallways of Bridgehead that were clearly not built with you in mind. You felt out of place in its tiny, box-like layout.

Your comrades weren’t too sneaky in trying to ease your nerves and welcome you into their chaotic escapades.

Lyle had always been an overbearing extrovert, chomping at the bit to challenge you into pushing yourself harder and harder during drills.

Mansk, in his own quiet way, insisted on dragging you to the kitchen every mealtime to assist him with cooking. He stated that he had no idea what to do with the new Pandoran ingredients required for their recom bodies, but you could tell he was bullshitting you to keep you out of your head. It worked; mostly.

Whilst Z-Dog had taken it upon herself to make sure your shooting skills were up to scratch - they were. And had sparked many competitions out in the shooting range.

Even the colonel seemed to have caught on. And that man was in no form of the imagination a family man. He was a leader. Your boss. The man you had to impress or risk getting killed. But recently, he’s been acting like some weird version of a father figure. Offering silent nods and backhanded compliments in his usual condescending tone whilst observing your training with your comrades. It would always be paired with a playful smack to the shoulder or a rough ruffle of your hair whilst the squad sniggered.

It was easy to remember why you’d stuck with them for so long. Because despite their missions and the people they killed, they had been your family on Pandora since you’d woken up from cryo sleep. A reluctant one. A ragtag bunch of trigger happy idiots, but they’d always watched out for you.

You also knew that they would kill you if they ever found out about your little personal mission. They made you feel safe within Bridgehead, but you knew they would turn on you instantly.

Lyle wouldn’t hesitate to cuff you and drag you to the colonel. Whilst Quaritch would go real quiet, ordering you to hand over your gun which he would use to shoot you on the spot. Z-Dog would make it look like an accident, whilst Mansk would hide behind his sunglasses and deal with business himself, stealing your dog tags to take back to the colonel.

It was imperative you remained vigilant. If anyone remembered or found out, you were fucked. So you had to get out. Fast. At the first opportunity. You could figure it out from there.

>_<

The moment the samson chopper landed in the undergrowth of the rainforest, you leapt out. Lyle was hot on your tail, peeling away from your side to secure the perimeter as the helicopter finished landing.

You didn’t bother pretending to be scoping the landscape.

The hum of the forest had grown steadily stronger throughout the trip, and now it slid through you like a melody. Calling to you more strongly than you’d ever felt. You took in greedy lungfuls of the damp, humid forest air. The scents of dew and vegetation invaded your nose, a world away from the canned air the recoms were forced to breathe in Bridgehead. Your ears swivelled towards every little sound, tail swaying to show content despite the mission ahead. Pandora was as gorgeous as she had ever been. The dappled sunlight peeking through the trees as the exotic fragrance of the plants filled the air.

As a human, it had never been this pretty. Behind an exo pack, you had never been able to smell the world, whilst the sights had been smudged by the acrylic screen.

This was freeing on an entirely new level.

Someone smacked you upside the head, abruptly shattering the nostalgia of finally returning to the forest. You choked, spinning in place and immediately stood to attention under the Colonel’s unimpressed glare. “What are you playing at Private?” He barked.

You could see the rest of the squad pretending not to look your way. Z-Dog and Walker had promptly turned their backs, clinging to each other as if it was the funniest thing in existence.

“Apologies sir, I got excited.” You replied sheepishly. "Needed to stretch my legs."

“Focus!” Quaritch stressed with an eye roll.

“Yes, sir.”

He nodded once before motioning to the others and leading the way into the undergrowth.

You fell into line, gun aimed on your surroundings as the squad moved further and further away from base.

Within the hour, the squad stumbled upon a broken AMP suit collapsed in front of an abandoned compound. The building looked like one of the remote link compounds the scientists used to use during avatar exertions. What it was doing so far away from its assigned location, you had no idea.

Quaritch immediately issued orders for the site to be secured. Whilst Z-Dog investigated the building, the rest of the squad fanned out into the clearing. Half went to search the undergrowth, whilst you remained nearby, eyes more focused on the compound than the forest.

The colonel and Wainfleet remained close to the AMP suit, quietly analysing the corpse impaled within the ribcage of the dismantled robot.

You swept close on your return pass, ears pricked as Quaritch glared daggers at the skull. Peering over his shoulder, your eyes widened at the pair of na'vi arrows jutting out of moss covered bone and the scar of a viperwolf scratch carved into the skull.

Quaritch's corpse.

And whoever had got him had been merciless in finishing him off.

The sight made you uneasy. Reminding you of the threats Pandora possessed. You were glad when a shout from the forest and the call for backup drew you from the suit.

No one knew how long the kids had been there. Whether they’d gotten curious and followed from the moment the samson touched down, or if they had been lingering around the shack. Either way, the petrified scream of the youngest girl had drawn the rest of your squad to the scene.

There were three na’vi kids in total, and one human child. All held hostage by a recom, whilst Quaritch interrogated each of them. You watched the scene from the sidelines, assuming Quaritch would decide they weren’t worth it and let them go.

But when the na’vi boy swore at him and Quaritch grinned with a simple, ”you’re his.”

Jake’s, you realised.

Your heart began to pound as you rounded the rear of the group, eyes narrowed as you took in the side profile of the boy. His too small eyes, the slope of his jaw, the fifth finger on each hand. At a glance, a full blooded na’vi. But you’d been around avatars long enough to pick out the little imperfections. The broader set to his shoulders, the lower position of his kuru that indicated human blood somewhere in the line.

Quaritch was precise in his motions. Taking the kid’s kuru in hand to begin interrogating him. The colonel was rough with him. Spitting sharp commands before yanking his knife from his thigh strap. The boy’s eyes widened a fraction. You saw the raw fear swimming within them as he stared blankly up at the snarling colonel. Refusing to back down. Refusing to waver.

Quaritch’s expression tightened as he raised the knife a fraction. Logically, you knew the first strike would be a fake, to scare the boy into spilling information with minimal effort. You were lurching forward half a step, ears fanning wide in alarm before you could stop yourself.

The motion of that knife froze mid air, a testament to the Colonel’s reflexes as his burning eyes flickered to you. You made an effort to smooth out your microexpressions, hands limp at your side instead of reaching for a weapon like you so desperately wanted to. Something in the kid’s face had made something tight and protective flare up between your ribs, and the Colonel had noticed.

Quaritch’s gaze was stern as shook his head in disappointment. “Don’t go getting soft on me, Private.” He reminded, grasp shifting on the kid’s kuru. “I know you had a soft spot for them back in the day, but none of that bullshit now.”

“Sorry sir.” You grit out, but didn’t retreat. He glared at you, you maintained steady eye contact until Wainfleet pulled Quaritch’s attention to the older na’vi girl. He had her fingers splayed for the colonel to see, chuckling at her five fingers.

Their conversation quickly dissolved into the back of your mind as Quaritch handed the na’vi boy off, putting blessed distance between the kid and his knife.

Tracking the Colonel’s movements as he approached the older girl, you found your attention drawn by the human boy. You blinked at his intense gaze, at the storm of unexplainable emotions swimming behind his eyes that you felt dizzy just looking at him. Despite his face being locked away behind an exopack, his gaze was no less piercing. He seemed to see you.

The squint of his eyebrows seemed to suggest he saw you. Not a soldier. Not a recom. Just you. As if he could see beneath the scientifically created body to the memory chip beneath, to what remained of your soul.

But that was probably just you projecting.

To distract yourself from the tightening of your chest, you also studied him as your comrades kept interrogating the children. Their voices grew distant as you inspected the blue stripes painted across tanned skin. The traditional Omaticayan weaving style of his armband as well as the songcord attached to the hem of his loincloth.

Your eyes caught on the necklace at his throat. A style that matched the one your human body wore in the video. Down to the brown and red beads. The familiar weaving style. Even at this distance, you recognised Tsu’tey’s handiwork.

And whilst it reassured and relieved you that he was still alive, that somehow, in some way, this child had a piece of him, you were confused. How had he gotten his hands on one of Tsu’tey’s pieces?

Then he steeled himself. Quaritch’s bulk warmed your back, his shadow falling over your left arm. In a shockingly gentle tone, Quaritch asked for the boy’s name, and surprisingly, he gave it.

”Spider Socorro.” He blurted in strained english.

Your ear flickered back at the colonel’s sharp inhale. “Miles?”

Spider straightened, chin lifted in defiance. “Nobody calls me that.”

Quaritch’s expression was unreadable. He didn’t bother to respond and stepped away to talk into his neck piece. He didn’t go far and simply turned his back, speaking to Ardmore as the squad shifted uneasily.

The kids hissed as the recoms began moving them towards the compound where the shuttle would more easily be able to let down the ropes. Your stomach tightened at the thought of dragging them back with you. To know how they felt and be unable to offer sympathy.

Quaritch motioned to the children. ”Keep hold of ‘em. Shuttle will be here in ten.”

Your stomach dropped. Not the shuttle. Not yet. You couldn’t stomach the idea of going back to Bridgehead after this. After such a short taste of freedom.

”Colonel.” You said loudly, making the man pause midstep. He levelled you with an unreadable look as you struggled to find your voice. “These kids are useless to us.”

As soon as the words left your lips, his expression visibly shut off and you knew you would not be able to get through to him. “I’m not gonna repeat myself, Private.” He snapped, pulling rank to put you in your place. You squared up to him. Chin lifted.

A distant bird call had your ears pricking. It was short. A burst of a sound. It had the kids straightening, all their ears fanning towards the sound.

The bird called again. That one note echoing through the trees.

Shifting uneasily, your eyes followed the direction it had come from, momentarily breaking eye contact. Quaritch smirked as if he’d won a great battle. “Take the na’vi boy.” He ordered, motioning to the kid who was promptly handed over, and then raised his voice to the squad. “Into defensive positions!”

The group fell into formation as the sun began its nightly cycle behind the moon, bringing with it a rain storm. The boy’s neural whip between your fingers quickly grew saturated, making your weak grip slip with every sharp movement he would make. That bird call did not grow distant or stop. In fact, you could’ve sworn it was getting closer.

There was a moment of stillness. The forest holding its breath as the recoms kept whispering to each other, kept moving noisily through the undergrowth. Blind to the silent warning.

You held your breath, going unnaturally still as the boy in front of you did the same.

There was a cut off shout. An explosion of movement near the main body of the group.

Keeping your position, your head snapped towards the sound. Mouth going dry at the na’vi arrow protruding from Fike’s skull. It had embedded itself into his eye socket, almost straight through.

Whatever was making that sound had clearly found the squad. And it wasn’t pleased.

As the group erupted into chaos, you saw your chance. Loosening your grip on the kid’s kuru, you slowly stepped back, praying the steady movements would not draw that hunter’s eye to your form. The kid spun to face you, wrists bound, looking wide eyed and terrified.

You raised your hands in surrender, head dipping. <”Get out of here.”> You hissed, nodding to the trees.

His ears fanned wide as a satellite. Momentarily frozen in time. Eyes studying your own for the trick.

A gun went off at his back, snapping him out of it. More arrows were fired and more recoms died.

He turned his back to you, and with a burst of speed began shepherding his little sister towards the treeline. The girl went easily, grabbing at his bound wrists and dragging him away.

You kept your attention on their backs, hand hanging close to your gun in case someone turned their attention on you.

The recoms were dying in disorganised clusters. The smart ones like Wainfleet and Z-Dog had already taken cover behind trees as the onslaught of arrows threw everyone else out of formation, causing them to scramble for cover. It gave you a sick sense of satisfaction.

A shout drew your attention.

Walker had the older girl by her kuru after she’d tried to make a break for it with Spider. She struggled as she yanked her back, her gun useless in her focus on keeping hold of her.

Your gaze narrowed. Your rifle was in your hands before you could think to check if anyone was looking. The trigger was smooth under your finger. And with a light squeeze the machine roared to life and shot a hole through the tree to her left.

Walker shrieked, hand spasming in fear as she instinctively let go of the girl’s neural whip. Spider was quick to grab her arm and run away, whilst an arrow found its mark in the recom’s chest. She collapsed in a heap. Dead on impact.

You grimaced.

The rain muffled your footsteps as you carefully retreated into the shadows of the trees. Thankfully, the squad was too preoccupied to notice your silent escape.

You felt like a traitor for withdrawing into the forest quietly. Which was funny considering that’s what you were. Your ears were pricked and your body low. Eywa must have wanted you to succeed because no arrow pierced your back.

The screaming from the small clearing had begun to die down now, but was quickly replaced by the sound of a machine gun going off. Definitely Mansk’s hand, he had always been quick to react in any situation. You quickened your pace, knowing the distance those things could reach.

The aim was to get as much distance between you and the squad as possible. Then, you’d tear off any and all equipment that would hinder your survival out in the forest until you stumbled across a clan and could ask for uturu. The word and its meaning came to you from a distant memory. A simpler time when Grace had been ranting about some new discovery she’d observed out in the field whilst you’d simply been trying to microwave your dinner.

One of the explosions went off a little too close to you. Making your pace falter as your head snapped up to watch the branches above burst into flames. You squinted as a figure got thrown clean off by the blast. They seemed to collide with every branch and bush in existence on the way down, screaming the whole way.

<”SPIDER!”> Yelled the older girl from before, appearing over the lip of the branch but not daring to jump after him.

Instinctively, you leapt forward, gun falling back on its strap as your arms came up to catch the falling kid. He crashed into your embrace with a punched out wheeze. Blood oozed from many cuts, whilst his back was warm to the touch, not burnt, but still caught by the flames.

Another explosion went off, spurring you back into motion. You tried to set the kid down, but he groaned painfully, clutching at your bullet proof vest as his legs failed to hold his weight.

“Shit.” You cursed under your breath. Glancing back to the branch, you realised the girl was still there. Still watching your every move. And still way too close to Quaritch and his squad. To the inbound airship.

Shifting the kid so he was supported by one of your arms against your body, you strained to relieve your feet of the heavy duty avatar boots. The laces were slippery from the rain, slithering out of your grasp and making you growl lowly to yourself. It felt like hours, but it could’ve only been seconds before you were barefoot, your shoes and socks discarded in the undergrowth.

”Hold on tight!” You instructed the kid, who dutifully wound his shaking legs around your ribcage and hooked his arms around your neck. You supported his back with one arm whilst you scrambled to begin climbing back up the hill he’d just tumbled down.

The soil was loose from the rain. The bushes offering no firm support due to your weight, their roots easily giving way if you dared hold onto them for support.

You hadn’t climbed anything in this body yet. With the base possessing stairs, and your memories of climbing trees locked away in a past life, there was no real need to. And yet, it came easily to this body. As if it had been born to scale the trees of the Pandoran rainforest despite being grown by aliens in a test tube.

The girl was quick to grab the back of your bullet proof vest once you were high enough. Heaving you up onto the branch with her whole body thrown back. Curling your toes into the uneven bark, you swayed in place, tail compensating for your shit balance. ”We need to move.” You insisted, once again readjusting your grip on the shivering child in your arms.

She nodded dutifully. ”This way.” You kept a hand on her bicep to steady her as she took off down the branch, leading you away from the gunfire.

With practised ease, she reached the end of the branch and smoothly dropped to the forest floor before scrambling away. You were slower in following, your body protesting the intense movements before your knees groaned at the sloppy landing. To his credit, Spider didn’t complain as the jerky ride, his eyes half closed behind his mask.

You pushed through the bushes to find the three na’vi kids waiting by some ikran. Eying the beasts wearily, you slowed your pace, listening to the older girl reassure her siblings with soft words at your approach.

You needed to be quick. The owner of those arrows would be returning for their kids soon. And whether or not it was Jake, they’re bound to kill you on sight without checking your face.

”He’s wounded. You must get him to the Tsahik quickly.” You explained as you approached, dropping into a crouch to set Spider down gently at the kids’ feet. He protested again, putting up a valiant fight to keep a hold of you, but you were stronger than him. Your touch was firm as you removed his limbs from you and sat him down.

Kiri was quick to drop to his level, frowning hard at his bloodied appearance. Feeling sorry for the wounded kid, you dared to take a couple of extra seconds pulling out a knife from your belt to cut him free.

He pouted as he rubbed the circulation back into his wrists. Those piercing eyes darting all over your face.

You turned to leave, but the youngest kid was quick to waddle up to your side, her bound wrists extended. ”Can you cut me loose too?”

”I /really/ need to go.” You reply softly, before cutting her loose anyway.

You shifted back, only for the older pair to immediately extend their arms expectantly. You audibly groaned, before reaching for the boy since he was closest.

”Zaza?” Spider croaked, making your brows furrowed at the odd word. Around you, the older kids had gone unnaturally still. <”Is that you?”>

”Zaza?” You repeated, finding the word felt odd on your tongue. It sparked a distant memory, of a late night sprawled on a bunk with someone beside you. Someone tall and distracted. The memory brought with it a sense of dread; a distant threat. You discarded that train of thought before it could distract you for too long.

<”It can’t be.”> The na’vi girl commented, and now it was her turn to begin studying you.

”I don’t know what that means.” You pleaded, hands frozen in time, the knife still poised. A headache was beginning to form between your eyes, and your stress levels were incredibly high, but no one was giving you a straight answer. All you knew for certain was that you didn’t recognise this boy, and yet, he looked at you as if he knew you.

<”Holy shit.”> Was all Spider replied with, slumping against the forest floor.

<”No way.”> The na’vi boy agreed with a laugh. He was grinning hard, ears perked.

His younger sister looked as confused as you felt. Whilst the older girl was inspecting you in a way similar to how Grace used to look at something that deeply fascinated her.

Out of nowhere a large, calloused hand wrapped around your shoulder, yanking you back and away from the kids. The hand moved with the momentum, throwing you off balance to land hard on your back. You gasped loudly, your knife flying away into the bushes. The kids were already yelling as you struggled to gather your bearings.

The barrel of an old model RDA rifle came into focus, inches from your face, making you gulp loudly. Following the line of the weapon, your gaze travelled up a blue arm to a scowling face that you hadn’t seen in decades.

<”JAKE DON’T!”> Spider yelled. Despite the frantic edge in his voice, he remained unmoving. His eyes as large as the moon as he stared unblinkingly up at the na’vi’s turned back.

<”DAD! NO!”> The oldest girl shrieked, clumsily shoving her bound hands into the na’vi’s stomach, her eyes wide and pleading.

The boy was quick to jump to your defence. <”They helped us escape Dad- SIR! Don’t!”>

<”DADDY!”> The youngest shrieked, joining in at her older siblings’ reactions. She promptly latched herself onto his leg, clingy tightly and making his strong stance waver. If you weren’t seconds from dying - again - it would’ve been a comically domestic scene.

You shifted your gaze back to the man in question. Jake looked different. He was older now. Tired. Blue. Very fucking blue. His expression was aged, his hair in dreadlocks. You barely recognised him.

Movement over his shoulder brought your gaze to yet another kid. Older than the others, he shared the same hard expression as his father, an arrow notched and reading in his bow. Clearly, there was no chance of escape. If Jake missed you by some miracle, that boy would finish the job for him.

Jake hadn’t lowered his gun. He was still studying you, blatantly ignoring his kids as his narrowed eyes swept over the planes of your face. The weight of the stare was heavy as his frown deepened.

Somehow, you managed to unstick your tongue from the roof of your mouth, terrified but fucking estatic that he was alive. ”Long time no see, marine.”

No reaction. The gun didn’t lower. His expression didn’t change. Remaining cold and closed off.

Your smile faltered as you realise he probably didn’t recognise you. You expected the gun to be shoved back against you, for a bullet to shoot through your body and for you to die again.

Nothing happened.

Then something seems to click. ”Impossible.” Is all Jake said, and he lowered his weapon. The kids collectively breathed out and moved out of his way.

His brow was furrowed now as he dropped into a crouch. Jake loomed over you, his shadow blocking out the moon as his arm shot forward to grab at the front of your bullet proof vest to yank it down. You jerked, instinctively growling at him as his large hand grabbed your dog tag chain and pulled it out of hiding. The chain pulled taught as he dragged you in by the neck, in turn, Jake stooped lower, eyes squinting to read the printed metal in the pathetic light of the forest.

He sucked in a breath. <”What kind of sick-”> He cut himself off with a swear, dropping the tag like it had burned him. His eyes shone with a dense swirl of emotion when he caught your gaze again, his voice punching out of him in a yell. ”You should be dead!”

Your expression furrowed. ”Sorry to disappoint?”

He cursed again. <”Kids, get to the ikran. Your mother should be waiting for you.”> None of them moved. Jake growled. <”Did you hear?”>

You could make a break for it right now. Roll onto your stomach and dart off into the forest whilst he was preoccupied. The boy with the bow had loosened his arrow when Jake had dropped the gun from your face. But there was no guarantee he wouldn’t put a bullet between your shoulders for your hard work.

In another life, you had been friends; comrades. But now, he was a stranger. And you were decked out in enemy gear.

The heat of the jungle was getting to you now. Causing sweat to bead on your brow and moisture to collect under the heavy, bullet proof vest clutching tight to every movement of your torso. The military grade trousers clung uncomfortably to your legs, your boots long gone but your feet weak and vulnerable against the rough terrain of the jungle floor.

In contrast, Jake was in his element. Adorned in traditional Omaticayan attire and walking around barefoot without an issue.

Private! Quaritch’s calm voice over the com sent chills down your spine, making you stiffen. Private! Do you read me?

You dared not respond. Jake was still studying you. Those unnatural glowing eyes pinning you in place.

Y/n! Dude, you alive! Lyle’s loud voice had you wincing. Jake’s head snapped down at the sound, ears fanning wide as Lyle kept trying to coax you into responding. Making your insides twist tighter and tighter.

You’d been hoping for a clean break that would spare your conscience. They weren’t supposed to have noticed your absence yet.

Fuck, Quaritch was gonna kill you for getting cornered by Jake. That is if Jake didn’t kill you first.

You were so caught up in your musing that you didn’t notice the man in question had moved, until a hand clamped hard around your queue, snapping your head back from the harsh yank. The sound you let out could never have been produced by a human. It echoed through the trees, making your ears flatten.

Jake paid you no mind as he harshly dragged you to your feet.

”Jake!” Spider yelled at him, eyes hardened.

The marine waved him off as you struggled to comply, your balance all thrown off and mud clinging to your ass and back. His movements were sharp, making you gasp. In one swift motion, he dug his finger under your earpiece and tossed it away into the undergrowth.

”Jesus, you’ve gotten cranky in your old age.” You complained, struggling to relieve the pressure on your kuru.

Jake let out a surprised burst of air that could’ve been a laugh. ”Glad to see whatever they’ve done to you hasn’t dimmed your humour, Private.”

”Fuck off with that military shit.”

He kicked at your calf, tripping you into walking faster. Snapping your teeth at him, you followed the sound of the kids retreating into the undergrowth. Jake’s grip was painful on your kuru, but he was no longer using it to guide you along like a misbehaving horse, so you would take it.

”You started it.” He blurted in that typical knee jerk reaction of his. You huffed at the familiarity of it. ”Now start walking.”

”You’re not seriously considering taking me with you? Are you?” He didn’t respond and you let out a bark of laughter. ”You’re being an idiot.”

“I’m sparing your life.” Jake replied sharply. ”Usually, people are grateful.”

You saw the ikran first. They weren’t as big as you remembered, but still scared the shit out of you.

<”Ma Jake, what are you doing? Kill-”> Neytiri hissed from beside her mount. The youngest girl cradled to her chest. The woman stepped away from her ikran’s side, bow slung over her shoulder and her expression thunderous.

Jake pulled you up short, startling a second shout of pain from you. ”Dude! Ease up. Come on!”

Neytiri suddenly appearing in front of you had you stiffening. Her gaze pierced through you, studying your face with a hunter’s precision. She recognised you much faster than her mate.

“Would you quit whining?”

”You’re being an asshole!”

You could only watch dumbly as her eyes widened, mouth dropping open whilst her ears fanned wide as the membrane of a frilled lizard. The hand not cradling her daughter flew to her mouth as that expression morphed into one of fiery rage.

”What did they /DO/ to you?” She shrieked, the sheer grief in her tone making you flinch. Her breath stuttered, glancing at Jake before finding your pained expression again. “Eywa took you home.” She sounded like she was trying to convince herself of that fact.

The kids shuffled on your peripheral. Unsettled by their mother’s blatant grief. Neytiri drew your attention back.

”How is it that you stand before me now?!”

Her cry echoes through the trees, bouncing back to your bent ears with the same gut wrenching emotion as they had had leaving her mouth. You stared blankly at your friend, feeling all sense of hope and joy at being found drain away.

She was looking at you like you were a ghost or some kind of illusion. Waiting for you to evaporate or cease to exist at any moment.

Your presence had unknowingly opened an old, festering wound that had barely healed the first time.

This wasn’t the reunion you’d been expecting. This wasn’t the open arms and tears you’d been praying for whilst you planned your escape. This was everything you didn’t want.

“I’m sorry..”

>_<

Jake’s grip was unforgiving as he hauled you off of his ikran at High Camp. Your arms strained against the vines they’d used to bind your wrists, fingers failing to keep you on your feet as he forcefully yanked you down off of his ikran and onto the uneven cliff edge. One hand still grasped your kuru, whilst the other bit imprints into your bicep.

They’d stripped you of your gear before wrestling you onto a banshee.

Now, your weapons, bullet proof vest and any form of communication with the RDA lay soaked in rainwater somewhere in the forest. You didn’t mourn the loss of the devices, since the RDA could no longer track you without them. But you did miss the false protection of the knife and the warmth of the vest against the frigid mountain air.

Goosebumps erupted up your forearms as you were dragged further into the heart of the camp. Tents had been erected inside the cave system, made homely by the cooking fires within and the decorative rugs lining the cold, stone floors.

You glimpsed a compound on one of the rocky rises. The shining metal stood out like a sore thumb against the wooden structures of the tents and the warm glow of the fires.

Jake kept you walking, guiding you through the gathering throng of clan members. Some you recognised, many you didn’t. They all stared at you the same. With pinned back ears and judgemental eyes.

It was a relief when you were shoved between the flaps of the largest tent so far. The atmosphere was tense inside, with a fire burning low in the centre and various belongings stacked up against the walls. Herbs dried where they hung from the ceiling, whilst a hammock hung suspended against the back wall where two figures crouched over a map.

Your heart leapt into your throat. The rest of the clan and Jake’s unforgiving grip on you fell away as your eyes widened.

The years had been kind to Mo’at. She still wore her red beaded shawl, but had updated her headpiece and decorative necklaces, one of which appeared to have been made by a child. Her intelligent eyes snapped towards you in the small space, the weight of the years portrayed in the heavy crow’s feet and bags pulling at her cheeks. That expression did not change as she studied you.

Tsu’tey shifted at her elbow, looking as handsome as he always had. White paint ran down the line of his nose, from forehead to chin, standing out brightly against the soft blue of his skin. He carried himself with an undeniable sense of authority, chin lifted as that razor sharp glare cut you down to your very core. He no longer wore the necklace that had matched the choker your human body wore, but the rest of him had not changed. He studied you wordlessly, his lips dragged down into a frown as if he’d already analysed all he needed to know.

Your eyes caught on the bullet scars that adorned his left shoulder. They were old, faded with time but obvious. Your stomach tensed at the thought of what he had been through in your absence.

Wordlessly, you watched as Spider - who had slipped in behind you - skirted the fire and walked straight for Tsu’tey. “Dad.” The boy breathed, barely loud enough for you to hear. The hunter immediately opened his arms for the boy to fall into, his tail swaying anxiously as he whispered inaudibly to the young boy. Spider finally lost the tension in his body, whilst your stomach clenched painfully. You hated to imagine what their closeness meant.

Neytiri burst into the tent behind you, making your ears shoot up and your body jerk. She paid you no mind, kicking at the back of your knee to force you to kneel. You gasped as Jake’s grip left you and Neytiri took his place. Her nails digging crescent moons into your scalp as she grasped the back of your neck with unforgiving tightness.

<”Daughter, what brings you here with such rage in your eye?”> Mo’at asked carefully. Her familiar voice sounded so calm, so familiar. You squeezed your eyes shut at the sudden weight behind them.

<”The Sky People have found a new low.”> Neytiri declared loudly to the silent tent. Mo’at hummed.

Somewhere behind the canvas of the tent wall, you heard small feet shift. Glancing to the side, you saw a tiny eye peering up at you from the gap between the material and the floor. Those unnaturally large eyes bore into your soul, making your tail thrash with nerves.

Neytiri’s fingers turned into claws in your hair, snapping your attention back to the situation at hand as she grasped a fistful of hair and yanked. <”They have begun to resurrect the dead.”> Your head snapped up from the motion, causing your neck to crack and warm pain to deep down your spine. Your mouth opened wide with an involuntary, pained gasp.

Mo’at didn’t move.

Tsu’tey was scowling hard at her side, Spider wincing in sympathy at your treatment. Two sides of one coin. An odd pairing in appearance, but even in the short time you’d seen them together, you knew there was a bond there. Probably years old.

With the crack in her daughter’s voice, Mo’at rose from her seat. On silent footsteps, she rounded the fire. ”What are you called?”

You could tell that who you were still hadn’t clicked into place for Tsu’tey from the way that his ears flickered in uncertainty. Still looking confused, he composed himself, sitting back on his hunches to look at Neytiri. <”What is the meaning of this? Why have you brought this puppet to High Camp.”>

<”It protected the children.”> Neytiri returned easily. Making it sound like you were a pissed off thanator that had by some miracle, spared her offspring. <”It recognised us.”>

”Neytiri-”

<”You do NOT speak here.”>

Your name sat frozen on your tongue. The reactions of your previous two friends made you not want to reveal yourself. Neytiri shook you painfully by the kuru, letting out a warning hiss.

You spoke your name, eternally grateful that Mo’at’s towering form blocked Tsu’tey from view.

More humming from Mo’at as she reached for the tiny blade concealed within the sheath of her head dress. You eyed her wearily, held still by Neytiri’s hand in your hair as she pricked your shoulder. She pulled the bloodied blade back, tasting the drop of blood.

Her ears pricked at the taste, staring at you with a newfound revelation. ”It is you.” She confirmed, and something seemed to unwind in both Jake and Neytiri. ”But altered. You are not as the Great Mother intended.”

She motioned to her daughter, expression pinched. Neytiri tried to protest, but at her mother’s stern glare, her hands retreated from you. Your posture immediately slumped, relieved tingles echoing across your scalp and down your back.

”Explain.” Mo’at boomed, commanding your attention once more.

That finally got a reaction from the hunter still crouching over the map.

”The Sky People grew this body as they grew the avatars.” She nodded along to the simple explanation, sharing glances with Tsu’tey over her shoulder. You swallowed. ”They uploaded my memories into it. This body is me.”

Jake sidestepped, putting himself back into your line of sight. ”So you aren’t linked up?” There was something unreadable in his eyes. You almost mistook it for hope.

You shook your head. That body was long gone. ”This is my body now.”

Spider had sat down on the mat beside him by now, and shifted uncertainly as the man wordlessly rose from his couch with the authority of a king rising from his throne. Mo’at stepped aside as he took slow, menacing steps towards you. Swallowing hard, you dared to meet his burning gaze highlighted by the soft white paint. The vibrant grief and rage swirling within those gorgeous depths was startling to behold.

His hand went to the knife at his waist, wrestling it free with the practised song of the blade against its bone sheath. Your fight or flight threatened to kick in as you recognised the same hunter’s stalk he had performed the morning Neytiri and Jake had officially mated.

<”Olo’eyktan?”> Mo’at asked, eying him wearily.

He ignored her, storming past her fast enough to have her braids dancing. That gaze was narrowed; honed in on prey.

His arm drew back.

Your eyes widened.

With a yell, he took a swift swipe at your head which you barely managed to dive out of the way of.

<”DAD NO!”> Spider yelled from across the tent. He was on his feet in minutes, scrambling forward, only for Mo’at to hold him back with her arm.

Neytiri tutted at the poorly aimed blow, her tail thrashing on your peripheral as you cowered in the dirt, your arms still bound and braced against stone. Vulnerable skin tore on uneven rock as you scrambled away, kicking yourself for turning your back, but knowing distance was more important.

At least Jake seemed to have your back.

<”Tsu’tey, what are you doing?”> The marine asked, immediately jumping in to stop him from striking again as you scrambled to get your feet under you. With your hands bound, it was a struggle. Your tail thrashed, attempting to aid your balance as you scrambled away.

Tsu’tey was like a man possessed, shoving Jake off balance and making another stab at you. His ears were flat on either side of his head, eyes wild and manic. You’d never seen him so pissed. And certainly not so quiet whilst being so angry. It was somehow more terrifying than if he were screaming at you.

Jake scrambled to stay on his feet, his arms wrapping around Tsu’tey’s waist and yanking him back. Causing the knife to fall short of slicing through your side. The Olo’eyktan shrieked, a noise you had never heard a na’vi make before as his nails clawed at the man’s arms, failing to tear him off. Your ears flattened at the heart wrenching sound. Eyes not quite leaving the knife still in the Olo’eyktan’s grasp. A knife which he was quick to recall and hurl at your head.

“Jesus FUCKING christ!” You swore, ducking again. “Calm down!”

He hissed in retaliation, ears pinned back from the ferocity of the sound. You stilled at the glint of water staining his cheeks, the redness of his eyes. ”I mourned you!” He cursed. Still struggling. Still trying to close the distance and kill you.

Scratch that last part. Seeing him cry and begin to break down was far worse than anger.

”I buried you.” He screamed, the shout echoing around the tent and no doubt chasing itself out into the main cavern. ”I visited you in Eywa!”

Numbly, you took a step back. Towards the tent flaps.

This had been a mistake. Coming here was a mistake.

”I have made my peace with your passing! What purpose do you serve? Why have you returned to haunt me?” There was so much anguish in his tone, you would’ve preferred a punch to the jaw. ”WHY!?”

”I couldn’t stay there.” You breathed, straightening your shoulders when you realised you’d curled in on yourself under that venomous glare. ”I couldn’t stay there!” You repeated, louder this time. Needing to be heard. Understood. ”With them.” Your throat was uncomfortably tight. ”I wanted to come home.”

”THIS IS NOT YOUR HOME, DEMON!” Tsu’tey was quick to snap back. His expression shattered, the rage giving way to a tsunami of grief so strong it made you sick. ”LEAVE!”

But you were frozen in place.

Tsu’tey took it as a challenge. With strength that made your eyes bug out, he stomped on Jake’s foot, shot his arms back, grabbed the marine by the weapons belt and yanked him up and over his shoulder. Jake hit the stone floor hard. With a wheeze, he collapsed in a heap, momentarily stunned.

You gawked.

Spider seemed to come back to himself. In your peripheral, you watched the kid expertly duck under Mo’at’s arm and dart around the fire, with the ease of someone who’d been doing it his entire life.

Tsu’tey’s form blocked him from view. His muscles were bunched like a thanator preparing to pounce.

”GET. OUT!” Tsu’tey screamed again. He made to step over Jake, only for the man to grab his ankle and yank, causing the hunter to crash at your feet. You leapt back as his hands shot for your ankles.

Spider was at your side in moments. ”This way!” He yelled, grabbing at your bound wrists and dragging you towards the tent flaps. You obeyed, but your eyes remained glued to Tsu’tey. To the hands that would drag you down and gladly wring your neck. To the twisted expression on his face, so alien to you and causing the white paint to bunch and flake.

Mo’at tutted at his back. <”You do not think clearly.”> She narrated, stalking around the fist fight now commencing on her tent floor.

”Come on!” Spider urged, tugging sharply on your wrists and tearing your attention from Tsu’tey and the rest of them. ”We have to get you out of here.”

<”Give me a head start?”> Spider joked with a hoarse laugh, the furious screams of Tsu’tey biting at your ankles.

Neytiri appeared at your side, yanking aside the tent flap and helping Spider shove you outside. <”Take the ikran.”> She urged the boy, her expression icy. <”They cannot remain here.”>

You had FUCKING GATHERED THAT MUCH!

Neytiri nodded sharply before barking out loudly, <”Neteyam!”>

A flurry of movement by the side of the tent revealed the older son from before. His expression was painfully neutral as his gaze slid from his mother to the teenager holding you hostage by your bound wrists.

<”Take the demon to the forest.”> Neytiri stated. She didn’t wait to see if he acknowledged her command before promptly ducking back into the tent. The flicker of a memory tickled the back of your mind at her sharp cursing as the ruckus within the tent continued.

The boy, Neteyam, barely spared you a glance before heading back the way you’d been dragged into the camp. Despite being dragged all the way here for the Olo’eyktan to pass his judgement, the Sully family were doing a spontaneous job of doing the opposite of his will. You had no doubt that Tsu’tey would have gutted you regardless of his knee-jerk reaction.

You were lost in your musings as Neteyam hollered for his ikran, three bursts of sound that had the magnificent beast dropping from a higher level of the cave system to stand before its rider. The boy was quick to form Tsaheylu, before fluidly mounting up.

<”Where are we headed?”>

<”The old village.”> Spider replied simply, guiding you towards the back of the mount with firm pushes.

Part 1 -> Next Chapter

#Tsu'tey x Reader #Dad!Tsu'tey #Son!Spider #xreader #grief #temporary character death #conflict #recoms #recom reader #part 1 of 3 #Tsu'tey #Spider socorro #avatar #avatar the way of water

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