𝔻𝕚𝕣𝕥𝕪𝕋𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕤𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕔

one minute, Spider was in his arms, bleeding. writhing. small, aborted sounds of pain working through him.

the bullet had entered his back, and came out of his ribs. his lungs. Neteyam knew that it had hit his lungs. Neteyam was far from stupid. he knew from the path of the bullet. he knew because Spider wasn't breathing, instead he was gurgling, nearly gagging with every attempt of a breath. blood trickled from his lips, down from his nostrils. flecking against his visor.

he looked so scared, and yet... he was hardly trying to show it.

he kept squaring his jaw and pressing his eyes shut a moment, before looking back up at Neteyam, or forcing his head to turn slightly to look at Lo'ak, who's arm was reached behind him to keep a hand bound around Spider's bicep.

Spider had long stopped trying to talk. every time he tried, he'd slip, losing his composure, whimpering into the open air, but even that was painful, and turned to choked grunts of agony. body trembling harder then it did when it was just shock and cold rattling his bones.

Neteyam would hush him, promising the would talk later,

"save your words, Sp– brother, please," he murmured, trying to get Spider to look at him again, words stammering out of him with none of the calm charisma he had tried so hard to develop, "please, it's ok. it's ok, just relax. we're going to find father... my father. and it's going to be alright."

he knew he was lying, deep down, but what else could he say? you are dying, and I can't save you? you're going to bleed out in my arms, and I can't do anything but barely call you my brother?

in reality, he was just copying Lo'ak, who had been murmuring something along those lines over his shoulder this whole time.

Neteyam didn't know how to explain it in any way that made sense. but this seemed... easier... for Lo'ak, then it was for him.

not that Lo'ak wasn't scared or trying desperately to save Spider or already grieving in a way. far from it, Neteyam could see him unraveling by the second. but he seemed... he seemed to know what to say. what to do, enough at least. calling Spider his bro. his brother. telling him that they were going to get him help. his voice was shaking with fear, but he sounded like he could believe it in that moment. like he knew Spider would believe him. like the words came naturally. like they'd been said before, even if calmer in lesser circumstances.

while Neteyam had no clue. he lacked all confidence. he didn't even know if he could call Spider is brother.

but he did.

and he told him to be calm. and Spider did. with this this look of "only for you; don't be scared; it's ok, I'm ok". Neteyam hated it, that Spider was wasting energy on making him feel better. beneath that, something in Neteyam was eternally grateful that his big brother was here.

"Lo'ak, faster," he pleaded, knowing that they were going as fast as this ilu would allow, but it still wasn't fast enough. "please."

Lo'ak's head turns at the sound. Neteyam never begged. but he was begging now. Lo'ak nodded. murmuring more words of comfort to Spider, and in a way, Neteyam too.

he held Spider closer in one arm, tucking him up towards his chest, trying to cradle his head best he could to help him breathe, to keep his eyes locked on his face, while his other hand was still pressed firmly into the wound, crimson coating it. he could feel blood flowing in time with the rabbit's pace of Spider's heart, but couldn't seem to find the clipped artery to stop it. he couldn't bring himself to dig his fingers too deep, partly because of his own nausea, and partly because inflicting that pain on his brother was impossible. he simply couldn't, not even to save his life.

he heard his father's voice.

his eyes hesitated to leave Spider the first time. Spider's face was grey and washed out, paler and cooler then Neteyam had ever seen it. in a matter of minutes, Spider had gone from the energetic human he was used to, back on the ship, to looking gaunt and exhausted. eyes sunken, skin dull. his attempts at breathing were getting harder and harder, more desperate, yet waning. the hunger for air and the... the exhaustion... started to come head to head in their battle for dominance over his brother. Spider'sashes fluttered over confused irises that were clearly struggling to track anything anymore. eyes bobbing between the bright eclipsing sun and Neteyam's face.

he was scared to look away.

but then he heard his name, and his head snapped up.

"Neteyam!" his father called, sounding scared. he hated hearing his father scared. it rattled him like he was still 5 and small and helpless.

"Dad!" he called back, already trying to move to slide off the ilu, holding Spider tight, "Dad he's hit! he's– he can't breathe."

he looked down at Spider again— it had only been a few seconds that his eyes were off of him —wanting to make sure he wasn't hurting him as he slid from the ilu.... but Spider was still.

too still.

his mask was no longer clicking with hiccups of air.

his eyes were still.

empty.

dimmed of color and clarity. pupil blown wide and slightly milky with death.

staring up at nothing. past Neteyam. past the smoke. past the sun.

Neteyam went still. cradling his older brother close.

this couldn't be real. they'd been so close. his father was feet away now. he could have... he would... there was a chance. he could have helped Spider. his best friend. his brother. didn't need to die.

they were supposed to get him help.

why did he slip away at the last second before?

he shook him slightly, barely an inch. barely a jostle. but he did.

Spider didn't react. just lolled pliantly, before sinking back into Neteyam's chest heavily. something about death made someone heavier. he was heavier now. in a way that felt like it would suck Neteyam to the bottom of the ocean.

Neteyam felt himself gag. his skin crawling where it touched Spider's. like it could feel the death spreading through him, and it wished to recoil far away, while his heart desperately tried to cling to Spider tighter. like if he held him close, he couldn't get too far away, and maybe they could pull him back.

seconds passed like hours.

Lo'ak hadn't realized yet. he's trying to hurry them, actually sliding off the ilu, like Neteyam had intended, arms outstretched to take Spider from him.

"Bro come on!" he shouted, "Neteyam, we gotta help him," oh his voice was shaking, Neteyam could hear it. it's all he could hear. the only thing he could look to, that wasn't Spider's empty gaze, were the tears in Lo'ak's burning yellow eyes, "please bro, c'mon, give him!"

Neteyam looked at Spider again.

he was gone. Neteyam knew that.

"Neteyam!" Jake shouted again, now running across the rocks and into the water on their side.

he saw it before Lo'ak did. or, they both saw it. but he understood it, like Neteyam did, while Lo'ak could not yet comprehend that Spider was beyond saving. that he had already died behind him, in Neteyam's arms.

"Kid..." Jake murmured, only to get shoved by Lo'ak.

"Help him!" Lo'ak pleaded, not understanding why the two were so still. why they had stopped. "Spider, c'mon bro."

he got better footing on the rocks, finally having the purchase to try and take him from Neteyam... and he finally saw his face.

his best friend was dead.

and he had never seen his older brother so close to breaking.

Neteyam was just... holding him. just like he had before he... before he went still. cradled close with one arm. hand pressed to a wound that no longer weeped in time with Spider's heart. straddling the ilu's back, knee held high enough to keep Spider's wounds and cooling body out of the water.

it had been to protect him from pain and delving deeper into shock and tremors just moments ago, but now... now Neteyam felt like letting Spider slip into the bloody, tainted water was desecration

"no no no–" Lo'ak murmured, hand shooting out last Neteyam's to feel Spider's still chest, "Spider, please bro."

he shook Spider's chest lightly. then looked up at Neteyam. his stare was half as vacant as their brother's.

it made this real. Spider was really dead.

Neteyam had looked away for one moment, and Spider silently slipped away. and now he had one dead brother laid in his arms. and another brother looking to him for an answer, when he could hardly move.

"Neteyam..." Jake started, voice soft, "let's get him up here on the rocks."

he offered to take Spider, but Neteyam wouldn't let him. something in him bristled at the concept of his father laying a hand on Spider after all he'd done. abandoning him. trying to send him away. treating him like a stray.

his father, in a split second, stopped being the potential hero, and only something to keep away from Spider.

he finally slid off the ilu, Lo'ak's hands surged to press against Spider, as if... not like he thought Neteyam would drop him, but... more like him falling was inevitable, unless he held him there. just like Spider slipping away behind his back, in utter silence, no warning, had been inevitable.

Lo'ak is crying, silently, face twisting. Neteyam hates it. he hates seeing his siblings upset.

his own face itches. warm. maybe he's crying too. he is. tears are dripping down on Spider's bloodied visor.

he carries Spider like he's fragile. his second arm slowly unembedding itself from his wound, fingers pulling away from the tacky edges, still coated in crimson. it now tucks under his knees and reaches towards his back, towards the entrance wound. holding the older boy firmly above the water, while Lo'ak keeps Spider's head steady, letting his father pull him up onto the rocks by his free arm, and pulling Neteyam momentarily by his bicep, before returning to Spider.

they both ignore how Spider's limbs hang uselessly. how blood has streaked every inch of his skin. how his skin has changed from a warm tan shade they recognize, to this grey tone. how he's not breathing. how the more declined position has caused a current of blood to escape his lips. a trickle, not a gush, but still a terrible scene.

they carry him like he could still be saved. only to drop to the rocks with him in mourning.

Neteyam curled around Spider, crying as freely as he could manage. a skill he lost long ago. Lo'ak held Spider's arm tightly in his hands, kneeling beside him, staring up at the sky.

he didn't understand how the only person he thought could understand him was gone. he didn't understand how to be strong, when Neteyam wasn't. he didn't know how this was real.

he keeps trying to speak, but no words come, until he just gives up.

Neteyam stares and stares and stares, like in a moment Spider might gasp a breath of life. he doesn't. but eventually his father kneels down, hand on his shoulder, asking where the girls are.

he can't think. he can't answer. his father's hand is warm, but almost scalding in a way. the grief, if it could be called that, had already left his face. Neteyam knew they had to get the girls, he wanted to go get them. but it made his gut churn that his father could move on so quickly. not even a tear glistening at his waterline.

and his Mother is landing, running over to his bloodied form with desperate cries of his name, for Eywa'a, leading for a wound that wasn't his, but she believed it might be.

until she sees Spider.

her expression is strange.

not quite saddened, but shocked, and lacking the usual hate she held for Spider.

"what has happened?" she murmured to her husband, standing behind him. not yet kneeling.

"we went back for him," Lo'ak chokes, "we went... he... one of the soldiers started shooting. he..."

"he pushed us toward the jump first" Neteyam finished. voice quiet. "he didn't... we didn't even get him here. before he..." he trails off into tears again, looking away from her, as if it were something to hide. he tucks his face into dirty dreads.

she looks at her son for a moment, face turning slightly with pity, her hand moving to brush back a braid from his eye, but stopping when he goes stone still.

she looks at Spider. the boy was a bloodied mess.

she was surprised when the sight of him so lifeless, so opposite of everything she remembered him to be, bright and warm and beaming with energy, was jarring to her.

she inspects his injuries with a look.

"there was nothing you could have done, ma'itan," she murmurs, voice as soft as she can muster when talking about this boy, even if he is now dead, "it tore his lung. if... if you made him comfortable, you did all you could."

he just shakes his head. it's not fair. Spider hadn't been comfortable. he'd been scared and cold and in pain and unable to speak his dying words. they'd been there to save him, and it was for nothing. he'd just gotten him back, had just called him brother again, and he was already gone.

Lo'ak is standing, their father had pulled him up. grip tight like he blamed him, but voice calm like the slight against them was dismissible. Spider could die, it was a sad inconvenience at best, not something to truly mourn. but Lo'ak couldn't sit in his grief. he had to help them find the girls. had to make up for this mess.

Neteyam knows he has to stand soon. Spider would want him to. would kick him if he didn't go back for their sisters. for not surging to stand by their brother. but it hurts.

letting go hurts. he let go so many times, all times he shouldn't have. all times he is paying for now, because it's been so long since he held on to his brother. and now this is going to be the last, before Spider is a cold husk of what he once was.

but he has to. so he hugs Spider close for one more moment. and then he sets his mind to the task ahead.

before he does, though it takes several deep breaths. he takes off Spider's exopack, and wipes his face the best he can with the moisture still clinging to their skin. before laying him on the rocks, gently shifting him off his lap, never letting him kiss the jagged rocks below too hard. promising to be back soon.

how would he even react? he's this golden child warrior... until someone he loves, someone he was trying to save, is bleeding out in his arms. they're too far from the shoreline, too far from healer that actually know how to seal a gunshot wound or heal a human body, too far from anything. because Spider is bleeding out so fast. there's red everywhere. and he does know what to do.

Lo'ak is panicking, trying to help, trying to take Spider from him, trying to take him somewhere.

but Neteyam can't... he can't.

he just got Spider back. and he's already losing him. he's supposed to be the eldest, supposed to be in control. everything he has done, he has done for those he loves. they are what keeps him going. to see one shot breaks his very understanding of being. he can't breathe. this is his big brother, his best friend since diapers, he barely remembers a life before Spider, how does he fix this? since when has Spider been this small, this fragile? he's always been slighter and weaker, but... but not this much, right? he's always managed to break the bounds of his human body, to be more then he ever should have ever been, but not now, why not now? why is he so still, as he chokes out a pain breath? why is he so light and pliant and... and just fading into nothing? where is his brother? what's the going to do? why is there so much blood—

even if that pause lasts only a second, it's a second that will brand itself into his ribs for the rest of his life.

and then he's moving, trying to get on the ilu, trying to put pressure on the wound. trying to collect himself enough to even comprehend what Lo'ak is saying. he's got him in his arms. it's wrong for the eldest of them to be the smallest. it used to be funny. and now Neteyam hates it. he feels sick. he keeps telling Spider it's fine, but it's clearly not.

there's a hole in his best friends stomach.

when was the last time he called him that? best friend? or... when was the last time he called him brother? if he's generous, it was nearly a year ago before Spider was taken. but... but how long before that, had it been? how long since he said it outside of a passing, teasing joke at his height? how long? did Spider remember? he doesn't know.

there's a hole in his brother, and it's killing him. and there's no fixing that.

Spider is lucky if he makes it to the rocks at all. that caliber bullet, meant for a Na'vi, is too much for the human frame to handle.

what would it do to Neteyam, to have his best friend die in his arms before there was even a sliver of a chance someone could somehow fix this?

then he's falling. and he's on the ground again. and he's cold and sore and everything hurts like he ran a marathon... and there's weird shit in his mouth. and Kiri is crying. and Tuk is cheering. and Lo'ak is smiling at him.

hypothetical, what if this style of collar marked the "upcoming chief"

both Tsu'tey and Tarsem wore it, and both took it off after they were made chief.

kinda similar as to how Tsireya, the Tsarakem, has a hairpiece that is similar to her mothers

[she doesn't wear it all the time, especially in AFAA, but still, we're in hypothetical land, and I vaguely remember something being mentioned about it being a parallel to Ronal. but I could also be totally making shit up over a false memory]

it isn't totally bonkers to think that, maybe, both roles had a piece of clothing/accessory specific to the. to mark them. just like their are items specific to chief and tsahik.

and guess who else wore a collar...

so in this hypothetical... what was his status?

like. was he Jake's heir? we know that the next in line tends to be familial, if it can be. we know it's not always determined by age. but, by tradition, could Kiri have been Tsarakem? would she want to be?

was Neteyam old enough? were his parents ready to put that on his shoulders amidst the war? is that why (in this hypothetical) Tarsem also wore a collar? because he would become chief, even in an interim position, if Jake died before Neteyam was of a certain age?

perhaps Neteyam had been Jake's heir before the humans returned, when he would have succeeded Jake in the "normal" sense. no fear of it passing to him when he was young out of tragedy. but as the humans invaded, Jake knew he would have to name someone else. and that collar remained buried somewhere in Neteyam's things. or displayed as a reminder of what could have been.

did Neteyam weave the collar himself because he wanted to be his father's heir? did he adorn himself with it in Awa'atlu to remember home and the life he anticipated for himself? that he might get to go back to one day?

or maybe... maybe being chief scared him. but now, here in Awa'atlu, where it meant nothing... it was like reclaiming it. he wasn't going to be chief. he was just going to be a boy wearing a necklace. no fear for the future. no fear of a pressure that was no longer going to be on his shoulders.

She's fat and gets the guy and no one bats an eye.

She's fat and the hottest chick in the sorority and that's normal.

She's fat and an actress and she gets good roles.

She's fat and she's funny and she has character depth and growth.

She's fat and the main character and no one mentions her weight once.

Jake was on Pandora for a year before Tommy's avatar shipped in, he shipped out on the ship prior to Tommy's. legs fixed up as part of the deal to get him out there. they needed men, reliable men. and with Tommy preparing for the avatar program, having brother's out there might do them some good. he heard one of his old Colonel's put in the good word for him. he doesn't know why they chose him, out of just anybody, why they fixed his legs. but they did.

he wakes up, his legs work, he hardly remember being put out for the surgery. and his brother is dead. has been dead, for 6 years now. died the week before he was supposed to ship out. sick joke is what it is. but there's no changing it.

they're sending the avatar. they sent it. it's a year off. he's gonna drive it. he doesn't even think about it. just nods his head. his brother is dead.

and he's got a year to grieve. he's got a few friends. some grunt work to do. nothing that doesn't come easy.

and then there's the Colonel. he's a nice man. to him anyways. easy on the eyes. his nurturing ways and sharp wit and private king-sized bed definitely keep Jake's mind off of everything. rough hands and strong arms and the beating of a heart against a warm chest keeps him tethered to this alien planet. Jake always had a thing for authority, even if he'd rarely swung this way.

Miles doesn't seem to mind what's between his legs either.

it lasts a while. they normally play it safe. but sometimes, some... action. catches them off guard. but it's never been a problem.

.

.

.

the avatar arrives.

Jake's been preparing with the squints whenever's he's not stuck to the Colonel's side. Grace puts up with him, glad she's at least gotten a year to whip him into shape. he's learned some Na'vi, not enough, but some. he's not... entirely clueless. she's sending 75% marine, 25% grunt into the woods, and that's... better then nothing.

she's quick to get him away from his Colonel. he misses him.

he likes the avatar. likes feeling bigger, stronger. there's something else. he can't quite place it. but it's better.

they move up to the mountains quick.

.

he meets Neytiri. he doesn't know it, but she nearly kills him. she saves his life. her people take a chance on him.

.

he doesn't spend a ton of time in his human body. a few hours, not counting sleeping, at very best.

being mostly sedentary and stuck to terrible field rations is doing a number on him. he's exhausted all of the time. terrible heartburn. an odd morning or two he's woken up to the need to throw his guts up. but he never really questions it. he's abusing the shit out of this human body. he should expect some retribution. he can handle it.

.

months pass. three, to be exact.

he wakes up feeling some wicked type of awful. he tries linking, only to throw up, a pain radiating from his core. he can't focus.

he proclaims it's his appendix, as Grace helps him lie back down in his bunk. then she reminds him that they get their appendix's removed for cryo travel. he hits his head against the bunk.

"I gotta be dying, Grace. this is fucking awful," he groans, clutching his middle, "Lord help me..." "relax marine, you caught a bug. get some sleep. you'll live."

his son is born just over an hour later.

pushed him out while doubled over in bed with an audience of his panicking nerd friend who looks ready to pass out. his pilot who won't quit calling him a dumbass in between counting out a breathing excersize he's certainly ignoring. and his work mom, who's going between putting her head where it certainly doesn't feel like it belongs, and sitting behind him to rock him like a baby. in the middle of the floating mountains. on an alien planet. when he knows war is incoming. and the man who got him pregnant will be leading that charge. he helped him get ready for it.

he's stressed out to say the least.

his baby boy comes out screaming. which is good. he doesn't want him crying, but that little boy's got a good set of lungs. Norm blurts out that it's a boy. Jake just smiles between curses. Grace is checking the little one over and wrapping him up in a spare blanket, just enough to keep him warm, before pressing him directly to Jake's chest. Trudy and Norm are stealing glances, ooing and awwing all the while.

and then he's back to curling up his sweaty, and now bloodied, sheets. crying into his baby's skin, he's so soft and delicate. wriggling to press as close to Jake's being as he can. his baby loves him so much. his baby loves him so much, and all Jake can think about is how he's doomed. there's not escaping his father's blood. two humans. two demons. one of which is gunning for the Na'vi, the other helped him. fucks sake, he was born on a mountain top in the middle of an inhabitable planet for his little lungs.

"what did I do to you, bubba?" is all he can murmur, holding his infant closer and closer, "what did I do? you just got here, and I alreayd ruined your life, huh baby?"

the baby just coos and settles, his still wet little forehead pressing to Jake's lips, making little sounds every time they move with Jake's words or because he's kissing his baby's head.

Jake's got his arms around him. making sure he's warm and covered every other moment. heart hammering in his chest.

what did he do?

.

Neytiri does not know why Jake did not return to the village that day. she assumes it was important.

.

it had been a few hours. he was sore and spent and certainly in shock.

with how poorly he'd been caring for himself, Grace is surprised he managed to survive the damn pregnancy, let alone the labor. she wasn't that kind of doctor, but she also wasn't stupid. unlike the idiot who's still got his head in her lap, and her hand rubbing his back, and the other making sure he doesn't manage to drop the baby, because she's, unfortunately, gotten herself attached.

"we could call him bug," Jake quips, looking up at Grace, "then it really would be just a bug."

no one really finds his joke funny, but they all manage to laugh.

it's settling in that there is a baby amongst them. a baby who can't fit an exopack. a baby who can't go outside. a baby that shouldn't exist.

a baby they can't feed unless, by a miracle, Jake can chest feed.

it's been only a few hours. and this poor kid might really be screwed. but can they go back to base? the only way to do that would be to keep Jake and the kid in the trailer, and flying like that through the mountains is... a choice.

.

the next time he sees either of his lovers. he's telling them he's got a kid. it doesn't go over well.

Quaritch takes it well, for a mere moment, but tells him if anyones finds out he's the father, they're all better off dead. tells him not to bring "that thing home". tells him he'll "figure out" formula and Trudy can fly it out. tells him it'll be fine when they "level that patch of blue skins" and can "make their own home". Jake feels queasy.

when he tells Neytiri, she feels betrayed. she knows it was before Jake met her. and believes that he didn't know. he couldn't have betrayed her, by definition. but there is a hurt she cannot place with any other word by betrayal. she needs time, she says. Jake knows they don't have it. but can't get himself to say the words.

.

he's alone. not really. he's got his son in his arms. he's looking down at his sleeping features, tracing them with a thumb.

the baby, still lacking a name other then "bug", twitches, then noses into it. he's got the softest blonde hair, and big brown eyes, when he opens them. Jake can't quite looking at him.

this baby fills him with so much fear. it's palpable. he can feel his heart racing every time he imagines their future.

but he's perfect. he coos and sleeps. leaves unmentionables in the makeshift diapers the crew are pulling together. but he's too damned cute for Jake to care.

the first time he grips onto Jake's finger, he swears he forgets everything else.

"I've got you, bug, I've got you," he whispers in his little one's ear, lifting him back up to his chest, "we're gonna be ok. somehow."

.

Jake thinks about killing himself and the baby for a moment. it's fleeting and makes him sick to his stomach. passing the baby to Trudy to go throw up.

it had been a thought of mercy. a thought of how do I make sure he never feels fear once in his tiny life. of how do I make sure I don't orphan him. of dear god what have I done and what will I do now.

but he just can't. he can't do that to his little baby.

.

the war comes. Jake knows it's nipping at their heals, and having a baby to protect changes things. he finds his courage.

he tells the Omatikaya that the humans are coming. and pleads for them to harbor his baby.

.

Neytiri holds her son, accepting him into her heart the same day she will kill one of his fathers.

one must die so another can take their place.

.

.

Everyone knows. Everyone is facepalming.

Even Eywa's starting to get a little annoyed.

Spider is great with her and it really gets him up out of his dumps and actually getting along with Ao'nung when he's with the baby. and he has an excuse to look in Spider's direction in pure awe and adoration and cheesiness, cause he's Not looking Spider like that... no...

if Pril could talk, she'd rat his ass out so fast

Like it's bad when a "tattoo is undulating" (as opposed to... "drawn in a wave like pattern on the skin"?), or when hair is "wet wheat from a late Summer field" (as opposed to "sort of brownish light yellow that dries lighter, but is not actual wheat stalks growing on someone's head but kind of reminiscent of the color and texture"?), or when when ice cream tastes like midnight at the fair" (as opposed to "ice cream flavour bringing back memories of undefined ice cream flavours that are individually popular but always tied to a memory of late evening at the fair ground and probably smelling vaguely like popcorn and sugar"?).