#ffacc

The first time you slept with the Colonel, you didn't think it was a big thing. It was a mostly drunken, I’m horny and you’re the closest willing participant, one-night stand. The sex was great, and he was great, but it was just that. Great sex. As far as you were concerned, that was the end of it. There’d probably be a few days of awkward exchanges and avoiding eye contact, and then things would go back to normal. You'd continue living your life with no changes. 

Considering Quaritch was gone by the time you woke up the next morning, you assumed the two of you were on the same page. At least until lunchtime rolled around. 

Hunched over a desk in your lab, you studied the readings taken from a recent outing Grace and her team had taken. Samples of the river water and the soil that made up the bed. Similar to that of Earth's, but still different enough to be fascinating. You'd spend all your time studying each thing on this planet if you could. Pandora was a gold mine in terms of discovery. 

You loved studying everything this place had to offer. Almost as much as you liked to take the form of a Native and walk in one of their shoes, so to speak. Being one of the select few people who got an Avatar was a privilege you did not take lightly. The Na'vi were a wonderful species, despite their rocky relationship with humans. 

The gun-slinging humans, that is. 

Pushing your reading glasses farther up the bridge of your nose, you used your fingers to zoom in on the data displayed on the screen. Then your hand went down to the holographic keyboard and continued typing the sporadic notes your mind spilled out. Using both your hands was something you'd gotten good at in this profession. Your brain moved too fast for you to have to stop and write, so you'd learned to do it as you went. A few of your colleagues considered that a freakish quality, but you considered it an occupational hazard. 

"Dr. Y/l/n." 

You looked up from your work, annoyed, and both hands stalled in their tasks. The irritation froze on your face as your eyes landed on Colonel Miles Quaritch standing in front of your workspace, arms pinned behind his back. He was watching you closely, intrigued. There was no telling how long he'd been standing there, watching you be completely engrossed in your task. It made you want to crawl out of your skin. 

You cleared your throat, pushing the glasses up to rest atop your head. Leaning back in the chair, you crossed your arms in an attempt to guard yourself. 

"Colonel Quaritch," you greeted him. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" 

The corner of his lips twitched, fighting a smirk. "Well, I see you're awfully busy. But I couldn't help but wonder if you wouldn't be able to step away and join me for lunch today?" 

Never in all your time knowing the man had he ever asked you to share a meal with him. That wasn’t something the two of you did. You didn’t hang out on purpose. It just sort of happened. Any interactions you had were coincidental. Now he was breaking that unspoken rule, and it was like the world was flipping on its axis.

"Lunch," you blinked. "With me." 

He nodded, looking more amused by the second. 

"Why?" 

"Is there something wrong with wanting to share a meal with an... acquaintance?" The Colonel raised an eyebrow. 

He was teasing you—that asshole. You let him sleep with you, and now he was interrupting your work with a loaded lunch invite and teasing you about it. God, what an entitled, pretentious dick. A really handsome entitled, pretentious dick, yet a dick all the same. 

What could it hurt, though? Just having lunch with him. You were hungry, and he wasn't someone who took no for an answer. Plus, it wasn't like last night was bad—not by any means. There weren't any regrets lingering in the light of day. He probably just wanted to make sure you weren't expecting him to get down on one knee and pull out a ring, which you definitely weren't. 

You sighed, your mind already made up. "Fine," you agreed, saving your work and getting to your feet. "Let's have lunch." 

He smiled fully this time. He had a really nice smile. "Outstanding." 

The two of you ended up in his quarters, which included an entire kitchen he had to himself—something you very much did not have. You wondered if it was because you weren't military, or maybe because you were specifically a scientist. The higher-ups didn’t particularly smile upon either. Not that that was breaking news to anyone. 

Also, the Colonel cooked, apparently. Or at least he was right now as you sat at the table and watched him manhandle a couple of chicken breasts. Your chin rested in your palm, leg bobbing as the silence went on. The only noise in the room was the quiet sizzling of the food. But you could feel the tension of things unsaid. 

"So..." you began, running your finger back and forth over the table, "do you often invite acquaintances to your place for a meal?" 

"Only when we had sex the night before," he retorted, looking back at you over his shoulder. You could see a humorous glint in his eyes from across the room. 

You scoffed, letting your hand drop onto the surface of the table. The other one moved from your chin to drag over your face and into your hair. Sitting up straight, you took a breath and steeled yourself for an uncomfortable conversation. 

"Look, you don't need to do this," you told him. "Last night was a-" 

"If you say 'a mistake', you're not getting your food." 

"No! Not a mistake. God-" you groaned, about ready to just call it quits and get the hell out of there. "It wasn't a mistake. It's not like I regret it. But... but it was just one night. Just some sex. I know that. I'm not sitting here waiting for a promise that you'll be with me forever or some shit. We're both adults with needs. And that's what last night was. It was just a thing that happened. Nothing has to change." 

"Is that what you want?" Quaritch asked. He made his way over with plates of mouth-watering food in one hand, and a wine bottle and two glasses in the other. Your stomach growled. He set the plates down and took the seat across from you. 

"Is it- what?" 

"A one-night-stand," he responded, shoving a bite of chicken in his mouth. "Is that all you want us to be? You wanna leave it at that?" 

"I..." You were very lost. You grabbed your fork so you had something to do with your hands. "What other options are there?" 

"Oh, I'm glad you asked," he reached over and poured some wine for the two of you, with quick and perfect precision. It was unbelievably hot. "We could do it again. And again. And have meals like this every once in a while. Maybe spend some time together outside of work. Doing things." 

You felt like the Earth had vanished under you, and you were falling down a bottomless pit. This had taken you completely by surprise. You could barely comprehend it. Was he asking you to go steady? As in, date each other? What the fuck? Had he hit his head and had some freak accident or something? 

"You- are you asking me to be in a relationship with you?" You questioned, taking your wine and downing half of it in one go.

"If that's what you want to call it. But I think of it as more of a... hanging out situation." 

You give him a deadpan look. "Hanging out." 

"Mmhmm." 

"And having sex with each other." 

"I'd say so." 

"And are we allowed to see or sleep with other people?" 

"Absolutely not." 

"That's a relationship!" You exclaimed, throwing your hands up in exasperation. 

"Okay, maybe it is," he tilted his head, raising one hand in a sort of soothing gesture. "Is there something wrong with that?" 

A sigh left your lips. "Quaritch-" 

"Call me Miles." 

You watched him for a moment, tongue stuck in your cheek. Then you shook your head, averting your gaze. "See, that's exactly it. You're trying to get up close and personal. I'm not- that's not a good thing to do with me. I'm not the relationship type. We wouldn't work." 

"And why is that?" He asked. 

"Well, for starters," you began, taking another bite, "I'm a workaholic." 

"So am I. That's why we're both here." 

“You were gone when I woke up this morning. Like a manwhore sneaking out before he could be caught in the light of day.”

“I have a job, as was just stated. My day starts early.”

"You're twenty years older than me," you shot back. 

"So what? That doesn't mean anything. We're both adults," he argued, sipping his wine. "And that didn't stop you last night." 

You were flailing. Searching for any reason the two of you couldn't be in a relationship. Because you couldn't, right? There was no way it would work out. It wasn't a good idea. It would ruin the little friendship the two of you had, and you couldn't do that. You didn't have many friends to begin with.

"Isn't it, like, illegal?" You asked. "We're sworn enemies. The scientist and the Marine. It'd be doomed from the start. Plus, we're coworkers. I don't know if that would even be allowed." 

"Oh, please. You think the higher-ups expect every single person on this mission to stay alone and celibate the whole time? That's not reasonable. There's no one else. Your only choices would be to date a coworker or be alone." 

You took your sweet time chewing individual bites of your food. It gave you an excuse to stay quiet and think—try to sort through the mess in your mind. He was right, of course. Every excuse you gave, he had a solution at the ready. He'd thought this through down to the last detail. Miles was serious about this. About you. 

But did you even like him that way? You enjoyed talking to him, and sleeping with him was great. You thought about him in quiet moments, and he knew how to make you laugh. But he also pushed your buttons and made you so angry you saw red. You wanted to throttle him just as much as you wanted to kiss him. 

"What are you so afraid of?" He asked.

"Everything," you breathed, hating how shaky you sounded. "God, I'm scared of everything. How can you not be?" 

The man reached over and placed one hand on top of yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. You met his eyes, surprised to find sympathy there. 

"I'm terrified," he began, almost smiling. "But, way I see it, it's easier to be scared together than alone. And that's all I'm asking for. Be scared with me." 

God, he was good at being sweet when he wanted to be. Not to mention very convincing. 

You had to be honest; you'd thought about it before. About him and you, and there being something there. But you never imagined anything would actually happen. You never thought he'd want something to happen. And yet, here the two of you were. Would it be so bad to give it a try?

"Jesus Christ..." you sighed, reaching for your wine again. "We need to take it slow. I don't know how this shit works, I don't wanna screw up." 

"Don't doubt yourself, darlin'," Miles responded, smirking. "Don't worry. We'll figure it out together." 

"How?" 

"How about we just start with dinner? Tonight. How's that sound?" He asked, going back to eating his food. 

You picked up your fork to do the same. Your breaths slowed in an attempt to calm your pounding heart. "Dinner. Yeah, I can do that." 

"Great, then. We'll do that," he nodded approvingly. "Now finish your food." 

Two months

Something about breathing in the fresh air of Pandora made everything feel so peaceful. You couldn’t breathe it in human form unless you wanted to die, of course. But when you were piloting your Avatar? God, you could stay out there forever just breathing. It, like everything else on this planet, was making you fall deeper in love every day.

You were outside the facility where you lived and worked, standing on the edge of the training course for the Avatars. There were a couple of pilots doing the course, or racing each other through it, or just meandering around like you. It was good to be consistent in taking your Avatar body out and moving a bit, ensuring you stayed in shape and connected to the form. You weren’t really one for exercise, but you definitely could take a stroll out in the air you loved so much. Plus, it was nice to have an excuse to get out of the lab.

Grace was out on a research mission—one you weren’t needed for. Which meant you were left to your own devices for the day. Not something you were extremely good at, considering you spent all your time either working or sleeping. There was no room in your life for ‘free time’. And that was all you had at the moment. 

You walked along the grass, tail swaying behind you and shoes hanging from your fingers. It was a hot day, but the soil under your feet was cool. The sensation was a welcome reprieve. Other Avatars hollered and laughed and chatted around you, and you could hear the leaves rustling as the wind blew through them. It caused a smile to curl on your lips. 

“That damn tail is so unnerving.” 

Turning towards the voice, you watched as Miles made his way over to you, oxygen mask on. He stopped about a foot from you and looked up to meet your eyes. You were much taller than him in this form, leaving him face level with your stomach. Looking you up and down, the Colonel seemed conflicted. He wasn’t fond of the Na’vi people, but he was very fond of you. And here you were in front of him, as something he despised. 

“I don’t know, I kinda like it,” you responded, crouching down to be more at his level. The action caused him to grimace, and you bit back a laugh. The man was so used to being big and bad—too tall to touch and never disobeyed. You being near twice his size wasn’t very enjoyable.

“That’s not a funny joke,” he reprimanded, looking back up at your face. “How could you like that? It’s animalistic.” 

“It is not. You’re so close-minded when it comes to the Na’vi. They’re a wonderful people. You’d know that if you tried learning and communicating instead of just shoving a gun in their face.” 

“We’re not here to make friends, y/n. We have a mission. It’d benefit you to remember that whenever you’re playing dress-up.” 

You rolled your eyes, but there wasn’t much sincerity behind it. This was a conversation the two of you had often. Neither of you was willing to budge on where you stood. You’d learned to mostly accept it as a part of him, as much as you hated it. All you could do was hope that one day he’d find something that would change his mind. Then maybe he’d take a more peaceful approach to this whole thing. 

“Did you come out here just to argue with me, or was there something else?” You asked, ears twitching. Miles eyed the extremities with distaste before meeting your eyes again. 

“It’s your birthday. I came to tell you we have plans to celebrate tonight,” he explained, placing his hands on his hips—typical commanding leader posture. 

You blinked, surprised. Your birthday wasn’t something you were vocal about, or really celebrated at all. It was just a day, same as any other. Besides, there was too much work to do these days for something as trivial as that. So you didn’t talk about it, didn’t tell people when your birthday was, didn’t make it seem like any sort of big deal. 

How had he found out about it?

“How did you know it’s my birthday?” 

“Your file,” he said matter-of-factly. “Couldn’t exactly trust you to tell me, seeing how it’s today and you haven’t said a word.” 

“You looked at my file? Isn’t that classified?” You raised an eyebrow, blue hands resting on your knees. 

“Nothing’s classified for me.” 

A scoff rumbled in your throat. “Good to know the power hasn’t gone to your head.” 

“Will you quit sassing me and just agree to meet me in my room tonight?” 

“Is that a request or a command, Colonel?” 

“Y/n, I swear to God-” “Okay, okay,” you laughed, holding up your hands in surrender. “I’ll be there if we really have to celebrate. I don’t like birthdays being a big thing.” 

“Well, that’s too damn bad. As your boyfriend, I insist it be a big thing. I’ll see you tonight. Be ready to party,” he told you, a smile curving at his lips. 

You blinked, tail twitching to a stop behind you. 

Boyfriend. He’d called himself your boyfriend. That hadn’t happened, not in all the time you two had been… doing whatever you were doing. Apparently, it was a relationship for him. A full-fledged boyfriend and girlfriend relationship. That was a big commitment. 

You weren’t good at commitment. That was the entire issue with this from the beginning. He was making it a thing now, and you were freezing up, and the two of you were here staring at each other. You could feel the golden yellow eyes of your Avatar begin to sting from how long you hadn’t blinked. 

“Did your connection just break or somethin’? Why are you staring at me?” 

“You called yourself my boyfriend,” you choked out, feeling the blood rush to your cheeks. You fought the urge to just get up and run away—ignore this whole thing. By the grace of God, you kept yourself exactly where you were. 

“That’s what I am, ain’t I?” 

“Well, I just- that’s… you’ve never said that before. I didn’t really think-” 

“This is a relationship, y/n. We’re not seeing other people. We spend all our free time together. We kiss and have sex and spend the night with each other. That’s what a relationship is. I’m your boyfriend, and I’m gonna call myself that.” 

Chewing on your lip, you tried to work through the anxious whirlwind in your mind. Relationships set off a warning bell in your head. From the look on Miles’ face, he was well aware of that fact. Thank God he’d learned how to deal with it. One of the many reasons you were willing to do any of this with him. 

“Nothing’s changed, honey. We’re doing the same things we’ve already been doing. Now, we can just use fun titles for each other. That’s all.” 

He was right. Of course he was. He was gorgeous and fun and smart. And he wanted you, as crazy as that was. You could not afford to mess this up because of your personal shortcomings. You would put your fears aside and let yourself enjoy this. 

“Yeah, okay. Yeah. That’s true,” you breathed, ears perking up. “Okay. Then we’ll celebrate tonight—as boyfriend and girlfriend.” 

“That’s what I wanted to hear. Don’t be late,” he chuckled, moving to head back to the facility.

“Miles,” you called, watching as he turned back to you. 

Your large hand wrapped around his forearm, gently pulling him closer. He followed the movement, looking up at you. You smiled, leaning down and pressing a kiss to the top of his oxygen mask—right at his hairline. Then you let go. He immediately stepped back and cleared his throat. Looking a little too flustered, he nodded goodbye and hurried back to the building. 

Your smile grew as you watched him go, heart swelling in your chest.

Five months

You’d been in the lab for nearly two days straight. Living off of shitty coffee and sleeping in five-minute increments whenever you got the chance. Your hair and skin were disgusting. You looked like death. The whole thing could hardly be called living.

You’d gotten an incredible set of samples on your last mission, and wasted no time in studying every tiny little detail. 

You tended to get into these phases. When work became the only thing, and you couldn’t focus on anything else. It came with the territory of loving your job. 

Also, you were avoiding Miles. 

The last time you’d seen him—and the last time you’d been out of the lab—he’d dropped a bomb on you with absolutely zero warning. You were eating dinner together, like you did every night, when he paused mid-meal to look at you. When you questioned this, he just smiled and spoke the words that had you running for the hills. I love you. 

The two of you were in a relationship. Fully committed to each other for the past several months. He meant the world to you, and you to him. But that little step, those three words, had yet to be taken. You were terrified, and he knew that. 

He respected the fact that you needed space, time, and gentleness with every little thing. He knew what those words meant to you. How real everything would become when they were spoken. 

You were happy with him. He made you laugh, cared about you, and understood you in a way no one else could. You had no plans of being with anyone else as long as he would have you. But with the reality of him saying he loved you, you were terrified that everything would change. That you’d lose the blissful bubble the two of you were in. 

So, like the coward you were, you ran away. You told him you had work to finish and left your food half eaten, and your boyfriend confused and hurt. You’d been in the lab ever since. Poring over data readings and notes, and anything that would take your mind off your personal life.

Miles hadn’t come to visit you since you left him that night. But there hadn’t been any sign of him. He was keeping his distance, and it made you feel sick. You were losing him. It was your own damn fault. 

Tears stung your eyes, and you squeezed them shut to stop yourself from crying. You wouldn’t break down. Not now. You were working, and you’d keep a straight face in front of your colleagues. Tonight, you’d leave. You’d go back to your room and mourn. Let all the emotions out that you’d bottled up over the last two days. 

“Doctor y/l/n!” 

You looked up as a panicked medic hurried into the lab. They stopped just in front of your desk, gasping for air. 

“What’s going on?” You asked, trying to suppress the immediate rise of panic. Whatever this was about, it wasn’t good.

“My- my superior asked me to get you,” they panted, swallowing hard. “Said you had medical training. It’s an emergency.” 

You were on your feet before the medic had finished speaking. You hurried towards the door they’d just come through, barely sparing them a glance. “Tell me the details on the way.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” they responded, scurrying after you. 

There had been an attack on a military squad stationed on a recon mission—several casualties and even more injured. The survivors and their fallen comrades’ bodies had just been brought in, and the medics scrambled to process and treat their patients. Who was alive and who wasn't was a complete mystery at this point. 

One of the soldiers, status unknown, was Colonel Miles Quaritch. 

Your blood had run cold, an icy fist clamped around your heart. Your hands trembled as you entered the infirmary. Breaths‌ shallow and shaky, eyes pooling with tears you didn’t even notice. Your heart hammered in your ears as you scanned the room. It was chaos. 

Medics running amok, soldiers taking up every bed in sight, all injured to a certain extent. You looked at the faces of each and every one, praying to see Miles among them. But your search was futile. You felt your knees start to buckle. He wasn’t here. 

“No,” you whispered, not to anyone in particular. “No, no, no, no.” 

He couldn’t be- he had to be okay. He had to. The last time you’d seen him, he’d said he loved you, and you left. You ran away, and now he might be gone for good. It was impossible to wrap your brain around. 

You had to see him. You had to say sorry—you had to fix this and tell him you loved him too. Because you did. You loved him. You loved him so much you could barely stand it. 

You couldn’t live with yourself if you didn’t get the chance to tell him how you felt.

Everything had gone numb. Your brain had disconnected from your body. Your eyes landed on Corporal Wainfleet, Miles’ second in command. He grit his teeth as a nasty cut on his torso was being tended to. You walked towards him, slow and uncoordinated. If anyone would know what happened, it’d be Lyle. 

The soldier’s eyes flicked up once you got close enough. The look on your face had him squaring his jaw. “Y/n-” 

“Where is he?” You asked, voice wobbly. 

Wainfleet was one of the select few who knew about your relationship with his commanding officer. Neither of you were the type to share your personal lives with the world. That discounted the people closest to you, who got the more intimate details no one else did. That included the Marine in front of you. 

However, something rerouted your attention before he could answer. A painfully familiar voice coming from one of the med rooms to your right. “No, I don’t need to be looked at. I’m perfectly fine. I’m going to check on my men.” 

You’d know that voice anywhere—the sound of it was music to your ears. You left Lyle’s bed without a word, pushing past people to get to him. 

Peeking into the room, you sobbed in relief as tears slipped down your cheeks. Miles was there. Shoving off the medics trying to check on him as he tried to get to his feet. He didn’t look to be in terrible shape, other than some scratches on his arms and a cut over his forehead. You’d have to look him over to ensure that was the worst of it. 

You threw yourself at him, forgoing all politeness. It didn’t matter that other people were in the room. It didn’t matter that they had no idea you two were together. All that mattered was that he was okay. 

Burying your face in his chest and wrapping your arms around his torso, you got as close to him as you could. He grunted in surprise, pausing only a moment before you felt one strong arm rest across your back. You knew everyone was watching the two of you, but you didn’t care. He was alive, he was okay, he was here with you. You sniffled into his shirt, taking fistfuls of the fabric in your hands. 

“God, you asshole,” you huffed, pulling away to look at him with teary eyes. “What the hell is wrong with you? Scaring me like that. I should kick your ass.” 

Miles stared at you for a second, then looked up at the other people around you. “Clear the room.” 

It was a powerful command. Within seconds, it was just the two of you. One of his hands came up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing over your skin. A small smile spread across his mouth as you leaned into the touch. You took his face in your hands, as if you needed physical proof that he was here in front of you. Proof that everything was okay. 

“I didn’t think you’d care much what happens to me,” he whispered. “Considering how our last interaction went.”

“Don’t say that. That’s not-” you shook your head, dropping your hands to your lap. “I’m a coward. I know that. I got scared… when you told me you loved me. It suddenly made all of this real. You said that, and I just saw how everything could go wrong. And I couldn’t handle that. So I ran.” 

Miles opened his mouth to speak, but you continued before he could get a word in. 

“But then this happened. Your squad got attacked, and I didn’t know if you were alive, and I was paralyzed with fear. I was suddenly faced with the thing I was most afraid of—my life without you in it. It’s not a life I want to live,” you swallowed, taking his hands in yours. “So I’m done running. I’m done avoiding you. I’m done lying to myself. I choose you. If you’ll still have me, I’m committed. I love you too. I love you.” 

The man was smiling, looking at you as if you hung the stars in the sky every night. He squeezed your hands, gently tugging you closer. “Sweetheart, there’s no other choice for me.” 

You laughed, still a little teary, and kissed him with all the passion you could muster. Miles grabbed your waist, pulling you against him. When the two of you finally broke away to breathe, he was still smiling. So much that the skin around his eyes crinkled. It warmed your heart. 

“Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way…” You began, pulling back and punching his shoulder. He let out a noncommittal ‘ow’ as you glared at him. “If you ever pull a stunt like this again, it won’t be the Pandoran natives you need to worry about. It’ll be me.” 

He chuckled, nodding. “Yes, ma’am.” 

Eight months

Miles was angry. You could tell by the stress lines between his eyebrows and above his near-permanent scowl. Though the scowl was rare when he was with you, it still made an appearance from time to time. You’d finally learned to tell the difference between his ‘it’s Tuesday’ scowl and his ‘someone’s about to lose an arm’ scowl. It was currently the latter. 

He sat at his desk, spine ramrod straight—typical military posture. His lips moved in silent mutters to himself, fingers tapping away at the holopad built into the table. The longer he stared at it, the more his eyes squinted. If you looked past the expression of rage, it was sort of adorable. He would be pissed to hear you say that out loud. 

You leaned against the doorway, arms crossed and head tilted. Miles hadn’t noticed you yet. He was too engulfed in whatever he was working on. Pursing your lips to fight a smile, you moved into the room and made your way towards him. He grunted, acknowledging your presence, but made no effort to look up. 

“Someone’s grumpy,” you commented, coming to stand behind him. One of your hands carded through his hair from the nape of his neck to the top of his head. Your fingers rested on the scars up the right side of his scalp. 

“Ah, I hate this damn thing,” he grumbled, tilting his head back into your touch. “The buttons are too small, and it’s too hard to see. Whatever happened to just writing things down?” 

“I think that’s something that died back in your time, old man,” you teased, and he looked up to glare at you. It just made you laugh, pushing him back from the desk to sit on his lap. He didn’t protest. Just rested his hands on your hips to keep you in place. “What are you working on?” 

“Some bullshit report the higher-ups want about the last mission we went on. Usually, I’d make Lyle do these, but I thought I’d take care of it while I finish up some other paperwork,” he explained, narrowing his eyes over your shoulder at the holoscreen. “But as I said, the whole thing’s a shitshow, and I’m about to shoot it.” 

“Well, I’m not so sure those higher-ups would take kindly to you destroying a very expensive piece of equipment,” you said, saving his work and going to the settings of the pad, enabling a couple of features your boyfriend probably didn’t even know existed. 

“Screw ‘em,” Miles commented offhandedly. He rested his chin on your shoulder. “What’re you doing?” 

“Changing a few things to make it easier for you to use. I call it the ‘elderly citizen’ protocol.” 

“Girl, you keep sassing, and I’mma smack you upside the head,” he warned, but when you turned to give him a light laugh, his lips twitched up into a smile. 

“Alright, I made it so you can either enter your report through the keypad, like you’ve been doing. Or…” you pressed a button to pull up the other options, leaning to show him, “you can do text-to-speech, where you just speak to it and it transcribes it for you. You can also use a stylus and write it out in this little box here, and it’ll put it into the system as if you typed it.” 

The man leaned forward, intrigued by what you were showing him. He nodded, giving a ‘huh’ before he looked at you. “I didn’t know it could do that. How did you know?” 

“This program is the baseline of all my work,” you explained, leaning against one of the chair’s armrests so you could better face him. “Of course I’d know all the ins and outs.” 

“It’s insane to me how damn smart you are,” Miles hummed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “We’d be lucky to have a brain like yours on our team.” 

A scoff escaped your lips as you shook your head. “Yeah, because you know how badly I’ve always wanted to be a violent, gun-carrying military monkey.” 

Something unreadable passed through his eyes, and he pressed his lips into a thin line. You instantly wished you could take it back. 

“Is that what you think I am? Just some mindless, blood-hungry mongrel?” 

“No. No, Miles, of course not,” you said immediately, taking his face in your hands. “I disagree with the things you sometimes have to do. But I don’t think that’s who you are. I know who you are. I love who you are.” 

“But that is who I am. It’s my mission. What I do-” 

“You are not your mission, Miles. Don’t get yourself and your job confused,” you told him. “You are a sweet, funny, smart man who means the world to me. You have a difficult job, and I admire you for taking that on. But it’s not you. Just like I’m not my science. They’re separate.” 

Your boyfriend sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. When he looked at you again, he just gave a resigned nod. One of his hands came to rest on your thigh. 

“Alright, alright. I guess I can accept that.” 

“Thank you,” you sighed, smiling at him. “I really didn’t mean to make it sound like I think that of you. You know that’s not how I feel.” 

“Yeah, darlin’, I know. Don’t worry, I’m not mad.” 

You nodded, pressing a kiss to his temple. Despite his assurances, you still felt guilty. You’d have to make it up to him soon. He treated you too well for you to upset him and just leave it. 

“While we’re on the subject of how you think of me, though…” he trailed off, and you felt an anxious tightening in your gut. But you stayed calm, plastering a smile on your face. 

“Yeah? What about it?” 

“You make comments about my age every once in a while,” he pointed out. 

You held back a wince, giving him a remorseful look. “Miles-”

“It doesn’t hurt my feelings or anything, I just… I wonder if it bothers you. Our age difference. How you feel about dating an older man,” he explained. You paused for a moment, letting his words wash over you. Your heart began to ache.

“Oh, Miles,” you furrowed your brows, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Don’t you ever think that. It doesn’t matter to me at all. Those comments are my shitty sense of humor. It’s nothing serious, I swear. Your age doesn’t bother me. In fact, I kinda like it. Makes me feel all nice and special that such a wonderful, mature man would choose me. It goes to my head a little too often.” 

“Oh, yeah?” He asked, already looking more chipper. He hooked an arm around your waist. “When does it go to your head?” 

“You know, whenever you come to pick me up from the lab at the end of the day. You kiss me and grab my hand and lead me away. That one assistant with the red hair? You know her? God, the look she gives me. Like she wants to rip my head off and gut me like a fish.” 

“Mm. Jealous, then.”

“Absolutely. And maybe it’s evil of me, but I love it. Knowing she’s seething because she wants something I have, I eat it up,” you murmured. “And I can’t believe how lucky I am to have it. To have you.” 

“Sweetheart, you know just what to say,” Miles smirked, moving until your noses were barely centimeters apart. “Now, how about we go back to our room and give her another reason to be jealous of you?” 

“What, are you gonna invite her to watch?” You teased. 

“Nah, she’ll be able to hear you wherever she is.” 

Piloting an Avatar was now off-limits due to your ‘medical condition’, and you had no idea you’d miss it this much until it was taken away. You’d give anything to be in a body that didn’t have all these symptoms that were kicking your ass. But Grace was firm in the decision to prohibit you, and wouldn’t fall for any of your groveling. So you spent your days in the lab—or in your room—and most of the time completely alone. Another thing you deeply missed: the companionship you’d gotten when you were with the Colonel.

You’d gotten a crib. One custom-made and safety tested in every way you could think of. It was spacey, a pretty shade of green, and perfect. The only problem? You had to put it together yourself.

You were nothing close to a handyman. Quite the opposite, in fact. You could tell someone everything about a sample of Pandoran water with one glance into a microscope, but you couldn’t hammer two pieces of wood together to save your life. And since you were pregnant and heartbroken, this inability to build had led you to gross, ugly sobbing. Your only saving grace was that you were alone. Saved from the humiliation of someone seeing you like this.

You wiped your nose on the bottom of your shirt, sniffling as you reached for what you assumed was the base of the crib. Since it was custom-made, there weren’t any instructions you could follow. There was the option of asking the engineers who’d made it, but you were too prideful for that. You felt you needed to do this yourself. Especially if you had any hope of being a good mother, a single one at that.

It wasn’t long until you gave up again and decided a break was much-needed. Your stomach grumbled, another fantastic part of pregnancy. You hadn’t realized how long you’d been going at this impossible task, or how hungry you were.

Sighing, you pushed yourself to your feet and left the damn crib unassembled on the floor. It would still be there after you’d eaten.

The cafeteria was overcrowded, as it usually was around midday. Though you were aware of that, the cacophony of noise had you wanting to turn back immediately. You hadn’t eaten here at all the entire time you were with Miles. His room had a personal kitchen that he always kept well-stocked, and you’d gotten used to the luxury. Now you were forced to come crawling back to the way things used to be with shame hanging over your shoulders.

Eyes followed you as you walked towards the food, lingering on the swell of your stomach. You’d been the talk of the town for the last couple of months. The talk never reached you, of course. Instead, people just whispered while you passed and acted like you couldn’t hear them. You’d gone from being a nobody scientist to Pandora’s biggest gossip piece.

“Y/n!”

You turned towards the voice, watching as Lyle Wainfleet took slow, wary steps towards you. He held a tray in one hand with the remnants of a sandwich and chips. The sight made your mouth water. The Corporal stopped in front of you, awkwardly shifting from one foot to the other. He kept looking away, as if he couldn’t bear to meet your eyes for more than a few seconds. His mouth opened and closed several times, but words never came out.

“Spit it out, Lyle. Just because I broke up with Miles doesn’t mean we can’t talk to each other,” you deadpanned. “He’s not on a rooftop somewhere ready to snipe us.”

The bald soldier chuckled, glancing down and nodding. “Yeah, you’re right. Sorry. I, uh… I just wanted to see how you were doing.”

“I’m four months pregnant and mourning the man I thought I’d spend the rest of my life with,” you shrugged. “Plus, everyone talks about me like I’m some reality show they’re obsessed with. So that should tell you how I’m doing.”

Lyle sucked on his teeth, wincing. “Ah. That’s about what I was assuming.”

“Smart boy,” you patted his chest.

“Have you talked to him at all?” He asked, and you rolled your eyes.

“No. Absolutely not. I haven’t even seen him,” you rested a hand on your stomach. “I think it’s better just to avoid that road altogether. Too painful.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, he misses you so much.” You hated it, but Lyle’s words made your heart race. “And I’m not sure what happened between you two, but I know he regrets it. He’s not the same. He’s all- he’s fucked up in the head. And the heart, or whatever.”

You wanted to believe him. So badly did you want to, but you couldn’t let yourself. You were sad and full of hormones and so lonely that you’d probably take him back in a heartbeat. But he’d been cruel, and he’d hurt you. You couldn’t just forget that.

“Good. He deserves to hurt,” you said, instead of the treacherous thoughts in your head. “Maybe it’ll give him some humility.”

“Damn, y/n, didn’t know you could be so cold,” Lyle joked.

“You can thank him for that. And everything else that’s been going wrong in my life.”

“Well, I thought I’d at least try to put in a good word for him, and check on you,” he pursed his lips. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Do you know how to put together a crib?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

He looked taken aback for a moment, and then cleared his throat. “Uh, can’t say that I do.”

“Damn.” You cursed. “Never mind then.”

“Sorry, girl,” he hummed, and then you watched his eyes light up. He had an idea. “But I know someone who could help.”

You immediately knew where he was going with this. Your stomach did a flip. “No. Nuh-uh. Don’t even say it.”

“The Colonel’s great at building stuff! I’m sure you know that,” he spoke quickly, like he needed to get it all out before you shut him down. “You don’t have to marry him or forgive him or anything, but I bet he could help. He’d probably be happy to.”

“Uh, I beg to differ,” you interrupted, trying to make it clear on your face how against this you were. “He made it clear what he was happy to do last time we spoke. You know, when we called it quits? And, not to mention, I literally just told you I don’t want to see him again.”

“Come on, y/n. You gotta be rational about this,” Wainfleet urged. “Our units work pretty closely on a lot of things, so you’re gonna see him no matter what. Might as well get some free labor out of it. And maybe you guys could try to talk it out.”

You sighed, holding a hand up to stop him. “Lyle. I need you to get this through your thick, bald head. He wants nothing to do with me. He doesn’t want this baby, and the baby and I are a package deal. So we’re done. It’s as simple as that.”

“Did he say that? Do you know that’s for sure how he feels?”

“He might as well have.”

“Lots of things get muddled and miscommunicated in the heat of the moment. You don’t know if that’s what he really wanted.”

You were getting frustrated, and you could feel a lump in your throat. People around you were still watching—hearing every word of this very personal conversation. Your fists clenched at your sides, and you pressed your lips together.

“Why do you care so much about this?” You asked, looking up at the soldier.

Lyle furrowed his brows, looking as if he were trying to figure out how to answer you best. Finally, he took a deep breath. “He’s my friend, and you are too. And I know how happy you two were together, and how miserable he is without you now. I just don’t want you guys to be apart if there isn’t a real reason to be.”

You huffed, running a hand through your hair. Maybe if you weren’t so fucking hungry, you wouldn’t be as annoyed with this as you were right now. But you doubted it. You were doubting a lot of things at the moment. Enough so that you were starting to feel a little dizzy.

“He carries a picture of you with him everywhere,” the man spoke again, breaking you from the internal spiral. You met his eyes. “Like a real, old-fashioned, ink-on-paper picture. It’s either in his vest when he’s geared up or just in his pocket. But it’s always with him, even now. Especially now.”

Every last bit of air left your lungs. For a second, it felt like everything stopped. You missed Miles so much in this moment, so extremely, that it overtook you. You always missed him, but you tried to push it away. Kept it buried down. It was front and center now, and your heart was about to explode in your chest.

“How-” you began, and then paused when you realized how wrecked you sounded. You tried again. “How do you know that?”

“I’ve seen it,” he responded. “Only a couple times. When he thought no one was watching and snuck a peek at it. I thought about teasing him over it, but, y’know. I value my life.” Lyle finished with a chuckle, and you smiled. Miles definitely wouldn’t take that well.

“Goddamnit,” you cursed, scrubbing at your eyes to keep tears from falling. Being pregnant sucked. “I was trying so hard to be strong.”

“You are strong. But that doesn’t mean you have to do it alone.”

“Jesus, Lyle, when did you become such a poet?”

“Ha. I think it’s just the romantic in me. I want you guys to be together,” he shrugged. “Plus, he’s in a much better mood when he’s getting laid consistently.”

“Oh my God, don’t say that,” you felt your cheeks heating up, and glared at him.

“Alright, alright,” the Corporal held his hands up in surrender. “So will you give him a chance to explain himself?”

You exhaled through pursed lips until your lungs burned. You wanted to fix things—to be back with Miles. More than anything, you wanted that. But you couldn’t ignore how hurt you felt, and the parts of him you didn’t love as much as the others. You knew that, if anything were to happen with you two again, you’d need to see that you could trust him with yourself and your child.

And there was only one way to find out if he was trustworthy.

“Okay, fine,” you gave in, cutting Lyle off before he could let out the excited woop you knew would come. “I’ll let him come make the crib. If any talking or rehashing happens, then… there’s not much I can do about it.”

“Understood,” he nodded, grinning. “This is gonna be great, I know it.”

You rolled your eyes at the man’s excitement. “I trust you’ll pass the message along?”

“Oh, you know I will. When should I tell him to meet you?”

“Tomorrow afternoon, I guess. I’ll just be in my room, so he can come work on it then.”

“Perfect, I’ll let him know,” he pulled you into a half-hug and pressed a quick kiss to the top of your head. “Thank you, y/n.”

“Jesus Christ,” you laughed, patting his chest. “You’re acting like it’s you being given another chance.”

“It might as well be,” Wainfleet pointed out, pulling away. “The sooner the Colonel gets out of the funk he’s been in, the better. For everyone involved.”

“Mm, I guess that’s true,” you agreed.

“Well, I won’t take up more of your time. Get yourself some food. I’ll let your man know about tomorrow.”

“Yeah, you do that. Make sure you tell him it was mostly due to coercion.”

Lyle laughed, giving a quick wave goodbye as he hurried out of the cafeteria. Then you were alone. Still feeling the dozens of eyes glued to you. It made you want to crawl out of your skin. Instead, you took a deep breath and made your way to the food.

You’d brave the crowds for a bit longer, then take the meal to your room and enjoy it in peaceful isolation.

The next day, at precisely 2 p.m., there was a knock on your door. You’d spent the last fifteen minutes pacing and trying not to shit yourself. The second you heard the rap of knuckles on the door, it all hit you ten times worse. It was Miles—you knew it. You hadn’t seen him in months, and now he was just on the other side of the wall. You wanted nothing more than to see him, to be held by him, and yet you stood frozen.

You were terrified that he’d tell you he didn’t want you anymore, that he didn’t want to have a baby with you. That maybe the time you spent apart was enough for him to move on, and the second chance you hadn’t even been sure you wanted was already gone. Your stomach turned. You thought you might be sick, just from the anxiousness you felt.

In the romance genre, they never tell you about the sickening dread that can come with the love. They never warn you how much it can fuck you up.

“Y/n?” You heard through the thick metal of the door. The sound of his voice made your knees weak. The slight roughness to it, the Southern drawl, the melodic way he sounded when he spoke to you. How long had it been since you’d heard him? How had you not realized how much you missed it? “Y/n, are you in there?”

You finally forced yourself to move. One shaky step at a time until you stood right in front of the door. You took a deep breath, then another. Then you pressed the button embedded in the wall and watched as it slid open. It felt like it was the slowest it had ever opened in your life.

Just as you’d known he would be, Miles stood on the other side. He wore his familiar gray tank top and camouflage cargo pants, with a toolbox in his left hand. He looked just like you remembered him, and for some reason, it shocked you. You felt like you’d changed so much in the past three months. The only different thing about him was the dullness in his eyes—the lack of light you recalled him having.

His eyes were glued to your stomach, on the swell that held your child inside of it. You’d found out about the pregnancy around four weeks in, so you were about four months along now. And it showed. Miles’ face was impassive. You wondered if he was revolted. Disgusted to see the way your body had changed as the baby grew. Knowing it would only get worse in the coming months.

The silence was long and awkward, and you desperately needed to fill it.

“Uh, sorry about taking so long to open up,” you said. “I was distracted.”

He looked up at you then, as if your voice broke him out of some sort of trance. His tongue ran along his bottom lip, wetting it and giving him a moment to collect himself. It seemed like he needed it.

“That’s alright. I don’t mind waiting,” he responded. You could tell he was fighting the urge to look at your stomach again. You decided it would make this afternoon more bearable if you both stopped skirting around the elephant in the room.

“It’s weird, right?” You commented, looking down at the bump and placing a hand on each side. “I feel like I’m so big already. And last time you saw me, I was, like, flat,” you finished off with a chuckle, looking back up at him.

His eyes looked almost sad, and he gave you a dull smile and a nod. “Yeah. I didn’t expect- I heard people talking about it, but it’s different seeing it. I didn’t know things would escalate so quickly.”

“Well, it has been three months.” The words slipped out of your mouth, and you immediately cringed at the crude attempt at a joke. Miles’ shoulders tensed, causing the sour taste in your mouth to strengthen.

“That it has,” he responded quietly, averting his gaze.

Leave it to you to ruin a potentially good moment.

“Well, come on in. We don’t need to just stand in the hallway, I guess.” You moved out of the doorway and allowed him into your room, letting the door slide shut behind you.

“I gotta say, I’m surprised you’re letting me in at all,” Miles said, setting his toolbox down on the nearby table. He was scanning the room. Taking in your new way of living since you moved out of his place. “I didn’t think you’d reach out.”

Slipping your hands into the pockets of the sweats you wore, you moved to stand next to him. “You can thank Lyle for that. He convinced me to make contact again.”

“Really?” The man looked down at you, eyebrows raised. “He didn’t mention that.”

“Maybe he was embarrassed,” you shrugged. “Things got kinda mushy there for a minute.”

“Mushy? Like, he came onto you?”

Though you didn’t comment on it, you heard the subtle jealousy in his tone. It made butterflies flutter in your stomach.

“No, God, no,” you chuckled, shaking your head. “Mushy on your behalf. For our relationship.”

“Ah. I didn’t know he was so passionate about it.”

“He definitely is,” you moved over to the couch and took a seat, letting out a breath. You still weren’t used to moving around with this extra weight. “I was surprised, I had no idea he wanted us to work out so badly.”

“And what do you want?” Miles asked. He watched you with an expectant look, and your breath caught in your throat.

No more avoiding the hard questions, then.

“What?” You questioned, if only to give yourself a moment to think.

“Do you want us to work out?”

There it was. The question you’d been mulling over for as long as you’d been apart from him. If he’d asked a week or two after your breakup, the answer would have been an immediate no. But as time went on, and you spent more time away from him as your baby grew, your resolution became less solid. You became unsure.

You missed him—so very much. You were terrified of having a baby, of being pregnant, all alone. You didn’t want to raise them on your own. You knew you could, and you’d do your best, but it was a dreaded future. How funny it was that, before him, all you ever saw yourself doing was being alone. Now the thought of it made you sick to your stomach.

If you had the chance to fix things, you owed it to yourself—and to your child—to try.

“I think…” You began, taking a breath, “I think that’s all I ever wanted.”

You couldn’t look at him. The weight of your words was heavy in the air between you, and you knew he was watching you. But you couldn’t meet his gaze. Tears pricked your eyes, your lips pressed into a thin line so they wouldn’t tremble.

“You wanna know what I think?”

Still avoiding eye contact, you nodded, fiddling with your fingers.

“I think that I’ve been kicking myself every day since I let you leave that office. I think I’m a fucking coward, and I’ll never forgive myself for how I reacted,” Miles spoke, coming and kneeling in front of you. He grabbed your hands, holding them gently in his own. “I love you more than anything. And since the moment that door opened, since I saw you with my child growing inside of you, all I want is to be with you. To have this baby with you.”

Being pregnant sucked. Your effort not to cry was useless—tears slipped down your cheeks, hot and unrelenting. You sniffed and pulled your hands away to wipe at your face.

“God, you can’t just say that,” you cried, biting down on your lip. “You told me we can’t be a family. You said it wouldn’t work. You can’t just switch it up.”

“It’s been three months, darling. I’ve had time to think it over,” he murmured, sounding almost teasing. “And I didn’t even mean it when I said it. I was just- I was scared.”

You met his gaze with watery eyes. “Scared?”

Miles nodded, letting out a long breath. “My Daddy was an ass. Mean, drunk, rough. He’s probably a big reason why I’m… you know, me.”

You gave a sympathetic frown, resting a hand on his arm.

“That’s the only type of father figure I’ve ever known. And when you told me you were pregnant, I got scared. Scared I’d turn out just like him. I didn’t wanna risk fucking up this kid like I got fucked up,” he finished, pain and guilt washing over his face.

“Oh, Miles…” You whispered, reaching up to cup his cheeks. He looked at you, almost awestruck. As if you were something extraordinary to look at. You ran your thumbs over his cheekbones. “You are not your father. You never will be. You’re a good man, and you show that every day. It would be the same with this baby.”

The man grabbed one of your hands and turned his face to it, pressing a kiss to the palm. Then he held it to his chest, right over his heart. “I was awful the last time we spoke. How can you say such sweet things to me?”

“Believe me, I was pissed at first. I still kind of am,” you explained, running your free hand through his hair. You’d missed touching him so much—you couldn’t get enough of it now. “But the anger mostly just fizzled into sadness. I missed you more than I was upset. And I think, deep down, I knew that what you said wasn’t true. Your bullshit is easy to spot when I step back and examine it all.”

“I guess you just know me too well, huh?” Miles chuckled, and you smiled.

“Guess so.”

“So, does this mean you forgive me?” The Colonel asked. “Will you take me back?”

“I do forgive you,” your words made a bright smile break across his face, only for it to fall at your following sentence. “But I can’t just take you back.”

He pulled away, looking equal parts confused and hurt. “Why not?”

“I’ve spent the last three months figuring out how to live without you. And it was the hardest thing I’ve ever done,” you explained, letting your hands fall to your lap. “I can’t let that all be for nothing, and I can’t go through it again. Not when I have this baby to worry about now. I need to know I can rely on you, that nothing like this will happen again.”

“It won’t, I swear.”

“I need you to prove it, Miles,” you pleaded, watching the man’s brows furrow. “I can’t just jump in headfirst. You have to regain my trust, for my sake and my child’s.”

“Okay… alright,” Miles nodded, getting to his feet.

You felt your stomach drop. Was he leaving? Did he decide it wasn’t worth it to have to start all over again? Had you gone too far and lost him? Your chest was aching with worry, your mind going wild with worst-case scenarios.

“Where are you going?” You asked, ready to stop him.

“I’m going to regain your trust. Starting by building this crib,” he had his toolbox again, moving towards the scattered pieces of the unmade crib.

You let out a relieved sigh. It was as if a physical weight had come off your shoulders. Despite all your talk about not just going back to the relationship, you weren’t sure if you’d be able to let him walk away. Not when you knew he wanted you—and the baby. Luckily for you, he seemed intent on doing just what you asked of him.

You smiled, getting up to join him. “Good choice, Colonel.”

Two Years

By some unknown means, you’d been coerced into going to some bullshit party hosted by the RDA. How did that happen, one might ask? You had no fucking clue. Especially since you were seven months pregnant, ginormous, and irritated with everything 24/7. The opposite of someone longing for a night of mingling and putting on a professional facade.

Yet here you were, squeezing into the nicest pants you had that barely fit.

You couldn’t see over your stomach, so you were blindly trying to button them. Every attempt was unfruitful, and frustrated tears gathered in your eyes. Not to mention the exhaustion already setting in from this arduous task. You were annoyed, tired, and teetering on the edge of breaking down. Which you didn’t have time for—not when there was a party to get to.

“Y/n?” You heard Miles’ voice come from your small, makeshift living room. Snapping out of your freakout, you turned towards the voice. “You in the bedroom?”

“Yeah, I’m in here!” You called, carding a hand through your hair. Slumping down on the edge of your bed, you muttered to yourself. “Attempting and failing to look like a person.”

Miles walked in a moment later, surprisingly not in the usual military getup. He’d swapped it out for a pair of jeans and a tight blue t-shirt. Though a slight shock, the new outfit was worn very well. But he made everything he wore look good. It was infuriating.

“Hey, there,” he greeted, smiling brightly. “How’s my favorite lady and our little man?”

Not long after you and Miles began to reconcile things, you’d gotten an ultrasound to check on the baby. You’d allowed the baby’s father to accompany you, which was lucky timing—you’d finally learned the gender of your child. It was a boy. You were going to have a son. Both you and Miles had been ecstatic.

Though you’d have been happy either way.

“Oh, just great. Living the high life, truly,” you deadpanned, mouth set in a scowl. The man’s grin immediately dropped, and he came to sit next to you on the bed. His hand rubbed comforting circles into your back.

“What’s bothering you, honey?” He asked softly.

Despite not being back in a relationship, Miles had been nothing but kind and loving to you these past several months. He was doing everything in his power to show you he was committed and in it for the long haul. That included the sweet pet names he loved to use on you. The same ones you loved to hear, not that you’d admit that. You were so grateful to have him back by your side.

“None of my clothes fit,” you cried, resting your head on his shoulder. “I’m fat, and I feel gross, and I have to go to this stupid party that I don’t give a shit about. And I’m so tired all the time, and I never have time to rest, and my life just sucks so bad right now.”

You knew you were being a big crybaby. But pregnancy was kicking your ass, not to mention the added stress of your high-maintenance job on a hostile planet. You just wanted to give birth already, both to be done with this and to meet your child. Unfortunately for you, you still had about two months to go. You were only going to get bigger and more miserable.

“Damn, it sounds like you’re going through some shit, huh?” He responded, holding you close. You nodded, sniffling. “Well, if you don’t wanna go to the party, you don’t have to. It’s your choice.”

“No, I can’t not go. It’s required for all the employees,” You told him. “And Lyle has been talking non-stop about how excited he is to ‘party’ with us.”

Miles chuckled. “Yeah, that’s true. He won’t shut up about it.”

“Exactly. So I just have to suck it up and go, except I’m gonna have to show up naked because I can’t get my clothes on.”

“I’d prefer if you didn’t do that. Nobody needs to see you naked but me.”

“You haven’t even seen me naked since I was skinny and human-looking.”

“Much to my dismay.”

“Oh, shut up,” you teased, smacking his arm. He snorted in response. “You’re not missing out on anything. My body isn’t what it used to be.”

“I don’t care. I love your body no matter what. I will always want you.”

You looked up at him, eyes watery with affection. A smile tugged at your mouth. “You sap. What lucky lady has you whipped so well?”

“Ah, you should meet her sometime. She’s great,” Miles spoke, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Super fierce and stubborn, and breathtakingly beautiful. She’s pregnant with my kid, and we’re gonna be a family. I can’t wait.”

“Really? Congrats,” you decided to play along, tilting your head. “I didn’t know you were the ‘have a family’ type.”

“I don’t think I was, at first. I sort of fucked up in the beginning, almost lost my chance,” he explained. “But then I came to my senses. I realized that the woman I love means more to me than my fear, and that any child she has is someone I want in my life. Someone I’d be lucky to be the father of.”

His words warmed your heart and swept away your sorrows. Miles was the love of your life; you knew that. He had been incredible these past months, and any lingering doubts you had about him were long since proven wrong. He’d done more than enough to prove himself to you and regain your trust. You loved him, you wanted to be with him, and you wanted him near you for the rest of your life.

“Miles?” You asked, earning a ‘hm?’ in response. You grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “I think I’m ready to be with you again.”

Your words made him pull away, and he moved to get a better look at your face. His own was full of hope and shock, eyes widened. You smiled sweetly at him.

“You mean that?”

“I do. You’ve been wonderful. I know you’re not going anywhere. There’s nothing-”

You didn’t have time to finish before he was kissing you, wrapping his arms around your waist, and pulling you against him. Well, as best he could with your 7-month baby belly. You laughed against his lips, kissing back and cupping his face. It was the first kiss you’d had since before you knew you were pregnant, and your body ached for more. You needed him, all of him, all the time.

You had no idea how you’d gone so long without him, but you knew you couldn’t do it again. There was no way you’d be able to survive.

The two of you finally parted for a much-needed breath of air, panting out of swollen lips. You met the eyes of the man you love, finding childlike glee there as he grinned. It forced another laugh out of you. You didn’t think you’d ever seen him so happy.

“So, should we get married?” He asked, and your expression turned bewildered.

“What? What the fuck did you just ask me?”

“Well, I mean, we’re going to be parents. Gonna be a family. So I figured, why not make it more official?”

You raised your eyebrows, feeling like your brain was gonna pop. Marriage? He wanted to marry you and be a family? What the hell was going on? Was this some sort of alternate universe you’d stepped into?

“So you’re asking me to marry you because you got me pregnant?” You inquired. You could feel your eye twitching, your body urging you to run away.

“Jesus, y/n, no. That’s not it,” he shook his head, running his palms over his jeans. “I’ve wanted to marry you for a long while. But I never brought it up or anything ‘cause I knew it’d freak you out. But now, with the baby and everything, I thought it might be a good time.”

You blinked, trying to make sense of the words he was saying. Miles wanted you to marry him? Seriously? How was he even someone who thought marriage was worthwhile?

“I… I didn’t think you were the marriage type,” you flailed, unsure of what to say. And maybe you were trying to stall as you worked through the instinct to tuck tail and run.

“I didn’t think I was either. But you’ve forced me to learn a lot about myself,” he explained, cupping your jaw with one hand. “I want you for the rest of my life. In every way I can have you.”

You opened your mouth to speak, only to close it again. This was a scary conversation—you didn’t do too well with scary things. But you did want Miles, for as long as you could have him. Marriage would be a good way to do that. Something that concrete, that bonding… it was a big decision.

“Can I… am I allowed to think about it?” You asked, looking back at him.

He nodded, giving a small smile as if he expected an answer like that. “Of course you can, honey. There’s no rush. We have our whole lives.”

You melted at his words, eyes softening as you watched him. He was being so, so good to you. It was enough to make your head spin. “I love you so much.”

Miles brushed his thumb over your jawline, muttering a soft ‘I love you too’ before leaning in and kissing you once again. You immediately returned it, resting a hand on his chest. As he embraced you, you felt like your life was finally getting back on track. You had the love of your life, and a child you were ready to care for and cherish forever. After several long, difficult months, you felt like things were looking up for you.

“Jesus Christ, you can be so infuriating,” you groaned, spitting into the sink before glaring at your boyfriend’s reflection in the mirror. “All that matters to you is what your big boss tells you, right? Colonel Quaritch has no clue how to function if someone’s not telling him what to do! Pathetic.” 

“You’re calling me pathetic? You?” He was lacing up his boots now, the last piece of his permanent military getup. “That’s cheap. I’m not the one playing pretend and trying to make friends with forest folk. You and your entire group have caused this to drag on for far too long. Some of us are fed up with being off target.” 

“Oh, I bet you are. I bet it’s so frustrating not to be able to kill and destroy all you please. You know, for all the care you show me, I’d think you’d be more thoughtful towards something I’m so passionate about. But it’s like anything that doesn’t benefit you just goes in one ear and out the other!” 

“You just love making me out to be the bad guy, don’t ya? Like I’m in the wrong, and you’re little Miss Perfect. We all have the same mission, y/n, despite how you like to act otherwise. The same guys giving me my orders fund your little Avatar program. All the little details and disagreements aside, that’s the bottom line. Your approach just makes things go slower.” 

“And is that so fucking bad?” You whirled around, stomping into the room and his personal space. “If it takes a little longer, but we can avoid any sort of violence or death, can’t that be okay with you? I’m just trying to find a peaceful resolution, and you’re belittling me for it!” 

Miles glared down at you, jaw clenching. “The resolution you want isn’t possible. You’re just wasting time trying to get it. You’d know that if any of you scientists would pull your heads out of your asses.” 

You laughed—something bitter and humorless—and took a step back. “This is pointless. I don’t know why I try. No matter what I say, it doesn’t mean shit to you. You’re too stubborn to change your ways. I know that.” 

“Yeah, I’m the stubborn one. Keep telling yourself that.” 

You threw your hands up in surrender. “You know what? I’m done. I’m not going to sit here and argue with you. I’m just going to go. When you get over yourself and decide you want to be an adult, you come find me.” 

“Don’t you walk away from me. We’re not done,” he commanded. You ignored him and did just that. You grabbed your bag off the coat hook, gave Miles one last sharp look, and stomped out of the room. 

Twenty-four hours after you walked out on Miles, you were feeling like shit. Not emotionally—in that sector, you were still angry and sure that your boyfriend was in the wrong. The physical aspect was where things were iffy. Your head was throbbing, the back of your throat was scratchy, and you couldn’t breathe through your nose. Not to mention the ache in your joints every time you moved. 

You knew exactly what it meant: an intense fever was on its way. You’d probably be tossing and turning all night as it overtook your body. Which was not only very annoying but also terrible timing. Stuck in the middle of a fight with your boyfriend and dealing with all kinds of shit at work. The higher-ups were getting antsy about this mission being completed—the little tidbit that had started this squabble in your love life. 

What you’d do to those selfish, money-hungry assholes if you had the chance. 

Hunched over your desk as a study you’d done scrolled over the holopad, you found it hard to pay attention. You felt unbelievably hot, your lab coat already stripped and folded over your chair. Still, the temperature continued to rise. Your breaths were becoming shorter by the minute. You wanted to lie down. You wanted a huge glass of ice water and to just sleep for the rest of the day. 

Being sick was the worst thing ever. Every time, without fail, you were utterly exhausted, miserable, and unable to function. It was already causing you to drag. You knew it wouldn’t be long before- 

“Y/n? Are you listening?” 

You snapped out of your internal monologue, meeting the eyes of Grace Augustine. The head of the Avatar program and your boss. You admired her so much. Immediately sitting up straight, you cleared your scratchy throat, “Sorry, what did you say?” 

“I asked what your problem is,” she repeated, putting her hands on her hips. “You look like shit.” 

“Oh. I’m, uh- I’m fine. Just… I think I’m getting a little cold. Nothing to worry about, though,” you assured her, waving the whole thing away. She raised an eyebrow. 

“Tell that to your face. I thought you were a corpse at first,” Grace deadpanned. “Why don’t you get out of here and go sleep it off? Make that Colonel of yours nurse you back to health or something.” 

You nearly flinched, sucking on your teeth. “Ah, if only.” 

“What, trouble in paradise?” 

“You could say that,” you sighed, slumping into your chair. “We have different ideas about how this whole mission should go. And neither of us is really willing to hear the other out.” 

“Well, that’s to be expected,” she nodded, crossing her arms. “The two of you are so different. I have no idea how your relationship works, but that’s another issue entirely. The fact is, he’s the head of the military squad. He’s been trained to deal with things a certain way. Am I saying it’s okay? Absolutely not. I despise the idea of using violence. You know that.” 

You nodded. “I do know that. I agree.” 

“Exactly. Because we’re more open-minded towards the indigenous, we’ve seen the beauty of this World, we’ve met them. We know there’s more to this than them sitting on something we’re after. But it’s not that way for the Colonel and his group. They have their orders and no reason not to follow them. They don’t know what we know. He has no reason to hear you out because he can’t imagine you being right.” 

You rubbed a hand over your forehead, feeling even more exhausted than before. “Well, what am I supposed to do about it?” 

“That I can’t tell you,” Grace admitted, and you huffed. After a teasing glare, she continued. “I’m not a relationship person. Especially with something complicated like this. What I’d say is to break it off, that your differences are too big, but I’ve seen the two of you. I’ve seen how you look at him. I don’t understand it, but I can tell that you have something special. So I don’t think ending it is an option for you. I’m not really sure how to help.” 

“Yeah. It doesn’t really feel special right now.” 

“Of course not. But that’s normal. Every couple fights. Maybe not about things as serious as the two of you do, but it happens. And it sucks,” she comforted you, patting you gingerly on the back. “But this will pass. You guys will work through it, and it’ll be special again. It just takes time and work. Nothing either of you is unfamiliar with.” 

“Ugh. You’re right,” you moaned, massaging your eyes with the palms of your hands. “It sucks that you’re so smart and right all the time. Especially when it’s something I don’t want to hear.” 

Grace gave a short laugh, squeezing your shoulder and letting go. “Get in line. And get some rest. It’ll help with… everything.” 

“Alright, I’m going,” you sighed. “I’ll be back when I feel like I can function again.” 

“Take your time.” 

You nodded, grabbing your lab coat. Then you bid your superior farewell and headed to your room. 

It was cold and bare when you arrived. You’d been staying in Miles’ quarters for months, and practically everything you had was in there. That was where you considered home. But you didn’t want to go back there now, so this place would have to do. No matter how strange it felt. 

You took your shoes off and crawled under the covers, deciding you were too drained to strip any further. By the time you rolled up in the blankets and your head hit the pillow, your eyelids were drooping closed. All the fatigue hit you at once. You could only hope you’d wake up feeling better as you drifted off to sleep. 

You slipped in and out of consciousness over the next few hours, either burning hot or freezing cold. Your sleep ended up more fitful than refreshing, with how often you had to remove and add layers. After a while, you finally found some sort of comfort in your shirt and underwear and slept peacefully under the covers. You woke up who knows how much later to a dry throat and a cold hand on your head.

“Mmm, don’t,” you moaned, flinching away and curling further into the covers. You sounded hoarse—like you’d gone days without water. 

“I know it’s probably not a good time to say karma’s a bitch, but…” 

You recognized that voice. Cracking an eye open, you spotted Miles kneeling by the edge of the bed. It was his hand, of course, now gently stroking your hair back. He smiled at you, all anger from your last interaction long gone. He once again carried a quality you couldn’t share. 

“What are you doing here?” You rasped. 

“Doctor Augustine told me I should come check on you,” he responded. “Along with some snide comments about being an ass, but the sentiment was there.” 

You grunted, letting your eyes close again. “Snitch. I can’t believe she betrayed me like that.” 

“Do you not want me here?” 

“Not really,” you said, though it wasn’t exactly true. You always felt better when he was around. And you weren’t feeling too great right now. “I’m still mad.” 

“Yeah, I know you are. You’re stubborn like that,” Miles got to his feet, pulling the covers back to slide into the bed next to you. He sat back against the headboard, gently guiding you into his arms. “But there’re bigger things to worry about right now. So how about we just call it quits on the fighting for the time being?” 

“That’s not how it works, dumbass,” you sniffed, resting your head on his shoulder. “This is an issue we can’t just sweep under the rug.” 

“Y/n, we’ve been arguing about that since the day we met. We’ll argue about it again, I promise. Save all the insults you’re thinking of for then.” 

“I just don’t understand how you can be so stubborn and not even attempt to hear me out.” 

Despite his request to let it go, your mind was already drawing up more points you could throw at him. Even as you knew it’d fall on deaf ears. 

Miles sighed. “Well, that’s what you get datin’ an old man. We’re set in our ways.” 

“Maybe I shouldn’t be dating an old man with those kinds of ways, then,” you muttered, and a pit of regret immediately coiled in your stomach. You felt Miles still against you, and you forced yourself to meet his gaze. His face was impassive, but you saw the hurt in his eyes. The disbelief. It made your heart ache. 

“You mean that?” He asked, voice quiet and gruff. 

You swallowed, reaching up to cup his cheek in an attempt to keep him close. “I love you, Miles. But you make it really hard sometimes.” 

He scoffed, jerking out of your touch. You felt your insides go cold. Though he’d pulled away, he didn’t move out of the bed or take you off his lap. His hands stayed on you—grip loosened—like he didn’t want to let go. As if he were fighting an urge to pull away and disappear. 

“Yeah. Guess this shit ain’t working as well as we wanted it to, hm?” 

“I never said that,” you contradicted him. “I said it’s hard, not hopeless. Anything worthwhile is gonna take effort, and this relationship sure as hell is.” 

He glanced at you. Mulled over your words. You could tell he was fighting an internal battle. You hoped, prayed, begged that the part of him that loved you would win. That you wouldn’t lose him like this, or lose him at all. 

“I didn’t mean what I said. I want to be dating you. I want you, more than anything,” You added. “You drive me crazy, and sometimes I want to bash your face in, but that’s to be expected with me.” 

He gave a short laugh, and you felt yourself smile. He was warming up again—melting into the embrace you held. His hands tightened against you once more. “But even then, I don’t want a life without you. Ever.” 

He tilted his head, watching you closely. “Yeah?” 

“You know me. I speak my mind. I don’t lie,” you told him, trying to convey your seriousness on your face. 

After an excruciatingly long moment, he nodded, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Alright, then. Just don’t say something like that again.” 

“Okay, I won’t. I promise.” 

“Good girl,” Miles praised. “Now let’s get you all nice and healthy again.” 

You smiled. “I love you.” 

His response came instantly. “I love you too.” 

Resting your head against his chest, you made a silent promise not to do anything to sabotage this in the future. He meant too much for you to ever lose. 

One Year, Six Months

You decided to make dinner for your beloved boyfriend last night. Take that responsibility off his plate. The only problem with that? You and cooking did not get along. Your attempt at service was a failure, resulting in disgusting food. 

Food that Miles teased you for—food you forced yourself to choke down every bite of. Damn you and your insatiable pride. You were done trying to be nice and do grand, romantic gestures. Forever.

You spent the whole night tossing and turning, battling bouts of sickness and intense nausea. Then, finally, in the wee hours of the morning, you’d been able to fall into an exhausted sleep. 

You woke up as you did every day: still too tired to cope. But today, there were a pair of strong arms around you and a face pressed against your back. Miles' breaths were deep and even, a sure sign that he was still asleep. He was usually the first to rise every day, so you treasured rare moments like this. Where he felt safe enough to put down his defenses. It melted your heart to know how completely he trusted you. 

Unfortunately, you only got a few moments to enjoy his company. Then your stomach was giving a nasty turn, and you had to lunge out of bed and make a break for the bathroom. You barely made it to the toilet in time. And a second later, you were puking up every bit of last night’s dinner. It didn't come out smoothly either. 

You were coughing and gagging, tears pricking your eyes. Your fingers gripped the sides of the bowl as your whole body tensed and lurched repeatedly. 

Your boyfriend, ever the jumpy soldier, was already in there with you. He crouched down behind you, pushing your hair away from your face and rubbing your back. His fingers brushed your neck, cold against your hot skin. A sob left your lips as you spat out the drool filling your mouth. 

"There you go, honey," he murmured. "Let it all out. Atta girl." 

“Fuck,” you groaned, pushing yourself away from the mess. You hunched over and laid your head on the cool tile. It made you feel a little better. "It must be the food from last night. Ugh, this is why I don't cook." 

"I tried to tell you," Miles spoke matter-of-factly, and you would've swatted at him if you could move. "But you were adamant about making me dinner." 

"Last time I try to be nice," you turned your head to look up at him. "You should be sick, too. You ate it." 

“Ehh, not really,” he responded, pressing his lips together. “You were so focused on trying to eat every last bite and prove a point, so I kinda just… put the bites in a napkin when you weren’t looking.” 

You gasped, lifting your head to glare at him. “Are you kidding me? That’s so rude. The woman you love cooks you a meal, and you waste it?” 

Despite your anger towards him, he chuckled, holding his hands up in defense. “Well, darlin’, look where eating it got you. I was just protecting my stomach.” 

“You’re the worst. I hate you,” you moaned, reaching up to flush the toilet and then shakily getting to your feet. “Consider our relationship over.” 

Miles’ hands were on your waist, steadying you. “Whatever you say, lover.” 

“Get your hands off me, you’re dead to me,” you grumbled. “And I’m gross and ugly, so you shouldn’t touch me. I have to brush my teeth.” 

“Go ahead and brush your teeth. I’m not going anywhere,” he told you, resting his chin on the top of your head. 

You looked at him in the ‌mirror. “Ever?” 

He smiled at you, thumbs brushing over your hips. “Ever.” 

“Even when I’m gross and ugly, and I just puked my guts out?” 

“Even then.” 

You sighed almost dreamily. “I love you.” 

“And I love you,” he pressed a kiss to your head, and your lips twitched up. 

“Now get out of here so I can get cleaned up and look more like a person,” you commanded, swatting his hands away. He hummed and stepped back. 

“Alright, I'll whip us up some breakfast. Something actually edible.” 

He was gone before you could hit him, but you threw a tube of toothpaste. For good measure. “Oh, fuck you, Colonel!” 

His only response was laughter echoing in his wake. You couldn’t find it in yourself to be truly angry. You were completely, desperately in love. 

Two weeks later, the nausea still clung to you. It was the longest, strangest bout of food poisoning you’d ever had. But you were learning to live with it. Unfortunately, that meant starting almost every morning with your head in a toilet bowl. 

Miles was worried, and you worked hard to ease his fretting. You told him that whatever food you’d made that night was obviously just very, very bad. You needed a bit more time. Then, your body would bounce back. 

That’s what you told yourself as you trudged into the lab, stomach still turning unhappily. Your desk was just as you left it—cluttered with notes and samples from your latest project. Empty wrappers from grain bars and coffee-stained mugs lined the holopad built into the table. Miles commented on your messy workplace every time he visited. You were pretty sure you were keeping it that way out of spite. 

You slumped into your seat with a grunt, pressing a hand to your upset stomach. You’d skipped breakfast in hopes of skipping the part where you threw it back up, but the nausea persisted. The hunger was surely making it worse. There was no winning for you in this situation. 

“Oh God,” you muttered to yourself, falling victim to the clutches of self-pity. You laid your head on the desk, one wrapper crinkling from the impact. 

“What’s your problem?” Grace asked from her workstation, not bothering to look away from her sample under the microscope. 

“I think I’m dying,” your response came partly muffled. You turned to look at her, cheek resting on the paper under you. 

“Yeah? Is the Colonel slowly poisoning you because he can’t control you?” 

“Jesus Christ, Grace. Tell me how you really feel.” 

“You know my opinion on your guy. I’m not going to hold my tongue because I like you.” 

“Aww, you like me?” You teased, sitting up and smiling at her. 

She rolled her eyes, ignoring your comment. “So what’s wrong with you?” 

“I’ve got food poisoning,” you explained, resting your chin in the palm of your hand. “I tried to make dinner and then ate it to not wound my pride. And now I’ve spent two weeks unable to keep, like, anything down. So I’m really loving life right now, obviously.” 

She finally removed her gaze from the sample, turning to you with inquisitive eyes. “Two weeks?” 

“Yeah, I know. A long-ass time,” you huffed. “Believe me, it feels awesome.” 

“Food poisoning doesn’t really last that long,” your superior explained, leaving her station to come over to you. 

You furrowed your brows. “What? No way. Then what’s wrong with me?” 

“That’s what I’m wondering,” Grace pursed her lips, arms crossed over her chest. “We should do some bloodwork.” 

“Ugh. I hate bloodwork, you know that.” 

“Well, I’d like to know if you’re dying so I can start looking for a replacement.” 

“Oh, screw you. Way to make me feel better.” “Leave the guilt trip shit for your Colonel,” Grace taunted, making her way to the supply cabinets. “Now roll up your sleeve and let’s get to the bottom of this.” 

You rolled your eyes, mocking her quietly, but did as you were told. She turned back to you with the gathered equipment a moment later. You tried not to flinch at the sight of the needle shining under the fluorescent lights. 

Thirty minutes, three failed attempts at drawing blood, and a lot of complaining later, Grace had your results pulled up on the large holopad used for presentations in the lab. You walked over to stand next to her, rubbing over the sore spot in the crook of your elbow. A grimace flashed across your face, and you sighed. You really hated having your blood drawn. 

“Well?” You asked, “Am I dying?” 

“Not as far as I can tell,” she responded, hands on her hips. “All the tests came back normal. Well, normal for a crazy, workaholic scientist on a different planet who’s dating a dickwad.” 

“Hey-” you scolded, glaring at the back of her head. 

Grace ignored you and continued. “But from what I’ve got here, I don’t see what could be-“ 

She went silent, shoulders tensing. Her eyes froze on the screen. It immediately made the hair on the back of your neck stand up. Your stomach twisted—not for the first time today. 

“What? What is it?” You turned back to the screen, trying to follow her line of sight. You found it just as she spoke again, and your blood ran cold.

“You’re pregnant.” 

Right there on the screen—next to the pregnancy line—was a big, bold positive symbol. 

You were speechless. Completely shocked and a little horrified. Miles had knocked you up, and your boss was the one who broke the news. You were pregnant. As in, a child brewing in your womb at this very moment. 

“So it’s not food poisoning, then. It must be morning sickness,” Grace spoke, but you could hardly register her words. You were too busy spiraling. 

Oh God. Oh, Jesus Christ. You couldn’t be pregnant—you couldn’t be a mother. You’d be the worst mom in the world. That was a certainty from the moment being a mom ever became a possibility in your head. 

And having a child on Pandora? A place full of danger and hostility, whether it be from the natives, the animals, or even people like the child’s father? That was not a place for a kid. 

You had to tell Miles. No, you couldn’t tell him. How would he react? Did he even want kids? The two of you had never talked about it before. What if he was disgusted? What if he broke up with you and you were left alone? 

Alone and with a child in your care. 

There was always the option of getting rid of it. Terminating the pregnancy. It was an easy solution to this tricky situation. Plus, it would keep Miles from leaving you. If there was no child, he’d have no reason to get out of the relationship. He would stay. 

“Y/n?” Grace spoke to you again, this time turning to look at you. Still, you were too far off into your own world. 

The second the thoughts popped up in your mind, guilt burned in your chest. You didn’t want to terminate the pregnancy—not just so Miles wouldn’t leave you. There wasn’t a guarantee he would react that way, anyway. You had no way of knowing unless you told him. You had to do that first. 

Before the talk of options could happen, you needed to tell him about the baby. He deserved that much.

“Y/n!” Grace shouted, grabbing your arm. Finally, you snapped out of your trance and looked at her. 

“I’m sorry. I have to go,” you choked out. “I need to talk to Miles.” 

“Are you alright?” She asked. “This is a big development.” 

Shaking your head, you swallowed. “I- I can’t talk about it right now. I need to go tell him.” 

“Okay,” your superior nodded, letting go of you. “Go ahead. Take the rest of the day off. I’ll handle things here.” 

“Thank you,” you stepped back, not bothering to argue. Your mind was too muddled. 

She didn’t respond—just gave you a half smile and shooed you away. You didn’t think twice before turning and hurrying out of the lab. 

Miles was in a meeting when you finally found him. Standing over a 3D map of the Na’vi hometree, gesturing wildly as he spoke. The soldiers around him listened intently; eyes flicking between the hologram and their commander. You felt sick standing there. Whether it was morning sickness, disgust at whatever violence your boyfriend was droning on about, or nerves from what you were about to tell him, you couldn’t tell.

Either way, you could feel nausea in your gut and bile in the back of your throat.

When he paused in his rant long enough to take a breath, he glanced out the clear-glass wall you stood on the other side of. You watched his expression shift immediately to worry. Something on your face must’ve given away the turmoil you were in. He muttered something—glancing at Lyle—and then he was marching out of the room. You fought the urge to run the other way, staying planted as he crowded into your personal space. His hand instantly landed on your hip. 

“What is it?” Miles asked, getting right to the point. You tried to find the words, suddenly feeling extremely parched. 

“I…” you began, but nothing else came out. You had no idea how to say this. You ran a hand down your face. “Shit.” 

“Don’t leave me hanging, darlin’. I’m starting to freak out here,” he spoke again, emitting an almost nervous chuckle. His hand squeezed your waist. 

“I don’t know how to say it,” you whispered, looking up at him with troubled eyes. “Can we- is there somewhere more private we can go?” 

He grabbed your hand the moment the words left your mouth, leading you down the hall. “My office. Come on.” 

When you entered the office, you went straight to the edge of his desk and sat down. Miles was right behind you, shutting the door to give you both some privacy. You could tell he was worried, and you felt terrible for dragging this out. He was probably going crazy trying to figure out what was going on. 

“Will you please tell me what’s got you looking so pale now?” He requested, crossing his arms. 

You chewed on your lip. “Please don’t be mad.” 

“The only thing making me mad is that you won’t just spit it out.” 

“Okay, okay,” you relented, holding your hands up in surrender. Then you sighed, going back to gripping the edge of the desk. “I’ll just come right out and say it.” 

Miles raised an eyebrow, waiting. 

“Fuck. Okay,” you took a shaky breath, hating the flip-flop your stomach was doing. “I was telling Grace about my food poisoning, and I mentioned that it’d been going on for a couple of weeks. But when I said that, she gave me this funny look. And like repeated it, but as a question. And I said yeah, and that’s when she told-“ 

“Oh my God, y/n, just tell me what’s happening!” 

“I’m pregnant!” You shouted before you could stop yourself. You clamped your mouth shut, feeling a little like you might pass out.

The silence was deafening. The two of you just stared at each other, letting the weight of the words suck all the air out of the room. You were suffocating, panicking. Helpless as you waited for him to speak. 

The seconds ticked by, and still nothing. Just him staring at you like you’d grown a second head. Tears welled in your eyes. 

“Please say something,” you pleaded, pathetically quiet. 

He finally moved, shifting his weight from foot to foot and looking down at the ground. He inhaled deeply and looked at you again. “How far along are you?” 

“I’m not sure,” you tucked your hair behind your ears. “I only got confirmation before I left to come tell you.” 

“And it’s mine?” 

You gave him a sharp look, taken aback. “Jesus Christ, Miles, you did not just ask me that.” 

The man shook his head, pacing back and forth. “Just trying to cover all my bases here. Get a grasp of the situation.” 

This was not the reaction you’d hoped for. Or the one you’d expected, deep down. Despite the fear and uncertainty you felt, you thought he’d be happy. You thought that you’d be a family. You thought he’d want that. 

But he was acting cold—indifferent. Not like the man you loved and were in a committed relationship with. More like the fearless, brutal commander everyone thought him to be. You felt your heart give a squeeze as you watched him. Wondering maybe if that’s who he was after all. 

“This is not some mission you’ve been assigned,” you grit out, a lump in your throat. “This is your girlfriend, the love of your life, telling you that she’s carrying your child. This is me telling you we have a possibility at something here. A shot at a family. Do you understand that?” 

“A family? You’re kidding,” he turned to you. “We’re not a family. We wouldn’t be. We put our jobs above everything. We fight more than we get along. We live on the most dangerous planet humanity’s ever seen. You really think that your little fantasy of the perfect life is gonna work out?” 

It was like a knife to the heart. Cruel words that tore through all the hope you had. Hope for him, for your child, for the future. You watched it all fade away like grains of sand through your fingers. The tears fell freely now, leaving hot trails down your cheeks. 

But even with the devastation weighing on you, the anger was worse. He’d hurt you—you wanted him to feel that pain too. 

“I don’t know how I ever tricked myself into thinking there was anything humane about you,” you muttered, getting to your feet. “You aren’t human. You don’t feel. You don’t care about anyone but yourself.” 

Miles opened his mouth to speak, but you continued before he got the chance. 

“I don’t know what I ever was to you. A distraction, a conquest, whatever. It clearly wasn’t a relationship, not with you acting like this now.” 

“Oh, come-”

“I’m not done. Let me speak,” you snapped. Surprisingly, he listened and kept his mouth shut. “You’re reacting exactly how I thought you would. At least, the ‘you’ that everyone else says you are. The selfish, violent, bully Colonel. Definitely not the man I thought I loved.” 

He clenched his jaw, eyes cloudy with a million unsaid things. You didn’t allow yourself to get sucked into them, digging your nails into your palms. 

“We won’t be a family, that’s very clear now. But it’s not because of who we are.” The breaths in your lungs were nearly painful, but you continued. “It’s because there is no we. There is just me and my child.” Your hand came to rest on your stomach, as though you could already feel the life inside of you. 

You hadn’t been sure about this pregnancy when you came to find the man in front of you. It was terrifying, and you’d never been confident about having children before. Now, though, as you stood here, it was undeniable what you would do. You were going to have this child, love it, and do it all on your own. You were terrified, of course, but you would not let the Colonel’s words come true. You couldn’t. 

“Y/n,” Miles finally spoke. There was no hostility now—only softness, something almost akin to desperation, or despair. For a moment, you thought you saw a shimmer of the man who’d stolen your heart. 

“You can forget what I came here to tell you, and everything else that’s ever happened between us. It’s over now,” you shook your head, taking a step past him and towards the door. 

You hoped, just for a second, that he’d stop you. That he’d apologize, take back what he said, and things could be mended between the two of you. You wished you could have this child with him and give them a chance at a real family, instead of just you. But the hope went away just as quickly, and he did nothing to keep you from leaving. And as you left the office and Miles behind, your decision became set in stone.

"Hope you don't mind an extra guest for this," he greeted, gesturing to the little boy.

Jake smiled, giving a half-shake of his head. "Nah, not at all. He's cuter every time I see him."

"Don't I know it," Miles agreed. "Your last report was more than two weeks ago. You're not getting lost in the woods, are you, son?"

When he was met with silence and averted eye contact, he continued. "Way I see it, it's time to terminate the mission."

That got the man's attention; his alarmed eyes finally met the Colonel's. "No. I can do this."

Little Miles babbled nonsensically, reaching for his father's hand. Miles gave it up without hesitation, feeling little fingers grab at his skin. It quickly comforted the man, despite the growing turmoil directed at the Corporal. The baby must get that from you: the ability to soothe him so quickly.

Jake was unfocused. His mind was foggy—conflicted. Miles could see in the man's eyes that he'd been compromised. The Colonel wasn't sure to what extent, but his hackles were raised. This mission was his purpose, and he'd complete it to the bitter end. No one could get in the way of that.

"You've given me good, usable intel," he explained, voice firm. "Like this 'Tree of Souls' place. I've got 'em by the balls with that, if this turns into a shit-fight. Which it will." The younger man's eyes didn't change from the numb daze, so Miles continued. "It's time to come in. You'll get your legs back, like I promised."

That last part gave Jake pause, and he worked his jaw as the wheels in his mind turned. Little Miles giggled and gnawed on one of his father's fingers, drenching it in drool. Miles ran his free hand over the boy's head of curls.

"I've gotta finish this," the Corporal finally spoke, meeting his superior's eyes. "There's one more test. The final stage of becoming a man. Then I'm one of them, and they'll trust me." The following words don't come out easily, coated with guilt and dragged up unwillingly from his chest. "And I can negotiate the terms of their surrender."

Jake was a good man with a big heart. It wasn't surprising that he'd feel troubled over this. But he seemed set on seeing it through, and that's what mattered. Any hesitation could be pushed away as long as the mission was finished. Miles nodded, deciding to leave it at that. He wasn't a damn therapist, and Jake's emotions sure as hell weren't his problem.

He got to his feet, leaving the man with one final command. "Then you need to get it done, Corporal."

You

"Guess who came to visit," you called in a sing-song voice, raising your baby as he kicked his legs and shrieked in delight. Grace looked up from her desk, eyes lighting up as she saw the child.

She got to her feet, smiling. "Oh, give me that little boy right now."

You laughed lightly and handed him to your friend. Little Miles giggled up at Grace as she cooed at him. She'd been quick to take on the role of Aunt, caring for and spoiling him like he was her own. What a long way she'd come from being the distant Scientist you used to know. You couldn't be any prouder of your best friend.

"Is that a little baby I hear?" Norm asked, poking his head into the room. His eyes fell onto the child in your Superior's arms, and he lit up. "Oh, I missed this guy! It's about time you bring him to the lab."

"Well, the journey to the Hallelujah Mountains isn't exactly baby-proofed. You're lucky I decided to risk it now," you explained, watching as the man came over to admire the baby with Grace.

"He lives on Pandora. He's gonna have to get used to danger," your superior pointed out. She didn't even look at you, too enamored with Miles' big brown eyes staring up at her.

"Yeah, yeah," you rolled your eyes. "Where's Jake? He too busy for baby time?"

"Ah, Jake barely shows his face around here anymore. Too busy being the Omatikaya's favorite pet," Norm explained, letting his finger be closed in a tiny fist.

"Careful, Norm. You sound a little jealous," you teased, heading towards the door Norm had just come from. "You guys good to watch him for a minute?"

"Like you even have to ask. I don't know why you're still here," Grace responded. You just laughed, shaking your head as you went to find the other member of your team.

Jake sat at one of the log tables, clearly lost in thought as he slowly rolled his wheelchair back and forth. His body jolted in shock when you placed a hand on his shoulder, and you offered an apologetic smile. You took a seat next to him, letting out a breath.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

"No, no, I was lost in thought. That's on me," he responded, lips quirked in a weak smile. He'd lost weight, and the bags under his eyes were heavy. You could tell he was troubled by something. "Been a while since I saw your face here. Well, your real face, anyway."

You chuckled. "Yeah, I don't come out here myself much. It's easier to stay with the baby and just link to my Avatar form when needed. But I'm glad I made time to visit."

"Any special reason?" He asked, resting his hands on his lap. You smiled.

"Do I need one to visit my friends?" Leaning forward, your voice took on a gentler, lower tone. "Maybe I had a feeling that you needed someone to talk to."

The sigh that left him was heavy, burdened, but you thought there might've been a hint of relief there, too. "Is it that obvious?"

Your eyes twinged sympathetically. "You don't look great, Jake. It's clear something’s weighing on you."

He ran a hand over his face, brows furrowed. "God, it's- I don't even know what to say. I don't know if I should say anything."

"It's not going to help you to keep it in. We're all in this together. You have people you can rely on," you told him, resting a hand on his arm. "You don't have to go through this alone."

His eyes met yours, and you could see the unrest there. Whatever he was going through was tearing him apart. Your heart broke for your friend. The two of you had become so close in the last few months, and to know he was so troubled felt terrible. You wished you could've been there for him sooner.

It took him a long time to think about his choices and to decide which way to go. You tried to make your face show just how trustworthy you could be. Finally, he swallowed hard and opened his mouth to speak. "It's the Colonel."

You blinked at him, taken aback. "The Colonel? My Colonel? What about him?"

"When I first came here, I… God, y/n, I was out of my mind with grief. I had nothing to lose, and I thought that if I had a mission, it would give me something to live for. I needed- that tether was what kept me going at first. But that changed. I-I met you and Grace and Norm. I learned the ways of the people, and I got to know Neytiri. I just… things are different now," Jake explained, looking more troubled by the second. Your blood was beginning to run cold.

Whatever he was carrying wasn't good, and it involved your fiancé. You tried not to be terrified as you listened to him talk.

"Jake…" You spoke slowly, attempting to hide your unsettled emotions. "What does this have to do with Miles?"

He looked at you sorrowfully, lips pressed into a thin line. "When I first came here, Quaritch tasked me with doing recon for him. Learning the Natives' weaknesses from within and giving him all the info I learned. And I did it. And now he… he has everything he needs. To launch an attack on them."

Your stomach dropped. You felt sick. Completely sick. Miles had been gathering information this entire time, and he hadn't said a word to you about it. He'd been using Jake for his own needs all along—behind your back. He was planning an assault on the Na'vi.

You hadn't known a thing about it, and you knew it was on purpose. Your fiancé had been lying to you for months.

Anger boiled in your blood, but you couldn't do anything about it right now. You needed to talk to Miles face-to-face, which wouldn't be possible until you returned to base. And you had a friend in front of you, still very upset. You'd help him first, and then deal with your own shit later. You had plenty of time to watch your life crumble before your eyes.

"You didn't know any better, Jake. Not at first," you comforted him. "But it's not too late to try and fix things."

"How? I- I can't-" he shook his head. "This all… I don't know how to do this without losing her."

You opened your mouth to ask who 'her' was, but closed it just as quickly. You knew exactly who he was talking about. You'd seen this coming long before he realized it was happening himself. Jake had fallen in love with Neytiri.

"Neytiri," you spoke aloud, confirming your suspicion when he nodded at you. A small smile flitted on your lips. "It all comes down to her, then?"

"I just- I don't want to ruin things with her,” He explained, soft and dejected. "If I tell Quartich the truth, he yanks me out. And I never see her again. But if I tell her the truth, then the clan throws me out. That's if they don't cut my heart out and show it to me first."

You gave him a knowing look, your face tender. "A good friend of mine once told me that love tends to be complicated."

Jake chuckled. The callback to the first mission you had together was a nice respite from the tense situation. He'd said that to you months ago. How nice it was to get to turn it around on him.

"Sounds like a smart guy," he joked, looking the slightest bit relieved.

You nodded, going along with the bit. "He is. You should meet him."

He chuckled weakly. You allowed the calm moment to linger a moment longer before returning to the matter at hand. "The truth of it, Jake, is that the only person who can help you is yourself. You need to decide where you stand. When all of this is over, where do you want to be? And you need to work towards that ending."

He let your words wash over him, giving a hesitant nod. "Okay. Yeah, you're right. You're right." Meeting your eyes, you were glad to see his were light again. "Thank you, y/n. That really helps. And I'm sorry I had to put all this on you."

Waving away his apology, you shook your head. "Don't apologize. I'm your friend. You can always talk to me about anything."

"That's sweet, thanks," Jake sighed, leaning back. "What will you do?"

You pursed your lips. "Well, I think I need to go have some words with my fiancé."

Miles

Miles paced the living room of the home he shared with you, anxiety pulsing in his veins. He'd been told about an hour ago—right after he had to finish that damn video for his future Avatar self if he died—that you'd gone out to the lab in the floating mountains. You'd taken little Miles with you. Without saying a word to him beforehand, you took your son into a hostile environment with no protection. He was waiting for you to get home now. Both to make sure you two were okay and then to tear you a new one.

If anything happened to either of you… God, he didn't know what he'd do. He'd burn this whole planet to the ground.

As if on cue, the door slid open, and you walked in. Your face was a sight—a mixture of rage and despair contorting your features. Your arms were bare of little Miles. The Colonel felt his heart squeeze with terror.

"Where's Miles?" He asked.

"We need to talk," you responded, walking closer.

He felt like his throat was closing up. What had happened? Where was his son? He repeated the question, louder and more demanding. "Where is Miles?!"

"I dropped him off with Lyle. He's fine. I just needed some time with the two of us alone," you grit out, sounding frustrated. It didn't even phase your fiancé, who just felt relief that both of you were unharmed.

Now that that was out of the way, he could tear into you.

"What the fuck were you thinking? Taking him out into the forest? Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?" He exclaimed. You didn't react; you just watched him with a cold disconnect. What the hell was up with you? His lips pressed into a thin line. "And without saying a word to me. Do you think that was okay to keep to yourself, y/n?"

Finally, you showed a semblance of a reaction. Disbelief flashed in your eyes, a furious smile on your lips. "Oh, you wanna talk about keeping things to ourselves? Boy, have I got a tale to tell."

Miles frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"I know what you've been doing," You began, moving into his personal space. "I know about the recon work you tasked Jake with. The shit you kept secret from me. And the attack you're planning for the Na'vi."

A twinge of anxiety tugged at his gut. That was not what he'd been expecting, which caused a kink in his plans. You weren't supposed to know about what he was doing. He knew how stubborn you were, how partial you felt towards those savages and their way of life. You would never see his side of things, so it was better to keep it secret.

It was easier to ask for forgiveness than permission.

"How'd you find out about that?" He raised his eyebrows.

"Does it matter? It matters that you lied to me. That you've been lying to me for months!"

"Because I was trying to avoid this," Miles explained, throwing his hands up in surrender. "Do you know how hard you make this shit, y/n? My only option to keep this mission on track is to keep it from you."

"I don't think you know what our mission is, Miles. We're not here to eradicate the Na'vi! We're here for resources, that's all!" You shouted at him, turning red in the face. You were furious. Angrier than he'd ever seen you. "This path of death and destruction you keep trying to go down isn't necessary!"

"It's the only path that will work. Can't you see that? Now, after all this time. You have to know. This is the only way."

"No," you shook your head, turning your back on him. Your arms wrapped around your torso. "No, Miles. It's the only way you know. Because this is who you are. Brutal, uncaring, and manipulative."

He narrowed his eyes. Something in his chest ached. "What are you saying?"

When you turned back to him, there were tears in your eyes. You looked hurt and betrayed, like the entire world was crumbling around you. It was the one look Miles couldn't bear to see on you. He could see you angry, happy, dizzy with pleasure, but this? To see you so devastated?

Miles didn't have many weaknesses, but one was standing before him now, tearing at him.

"I'm saying…" You wiped at the tears that had begun to fall, not breaking eye contact. "I'm saying that if you do this- if you launch this attack on the Na'vi, then we're done. The next time you see me, it will be on the battlefield. And I won't be on your side."

Shock and anger flooded his veins. You couldn't be serious, right? You'd give up your relationship, your family, to help the fly-bitten savages? You'd betray your own race—betray him? All for what? Some aliens who talk to trees and don't know a lick of English?

Miles couldn't believe this. You were giving him an ultimatum. You or his mission. The love of his life, the mother of his child, or the very thing that gave him purpose and stability.

He loved you. He loved you so much that he couldn't breathe. But he had never, not once in his life, put anything above his mission. He couldn't afford to start that now.

You might have felt betrayed, but he did, too. You were turning your back on him. On humans. He might have been shutting the door on the two of you, but you were the one twisting the lock.

He felt himself slipping into his old skin, the one he'd shed when he fell in love with you. The cold, ruthless soldier who wouldn't let anything jeopardize the mission. He shoved all the feelings away, all the hurt and fury pulling at him. He had work to do, and he would focus on that. Everything else fell away.

"Well, then," he spoke, practically looking through you. "I guess I'll see you on the battlefield."

You

You could only watch in heartbroken silence as Miles walked past you and out the door. He'd made his choice. The man you loved was gone. Maybe he'd never existed. All that was left was an uncaring, bloodthirsty monster who cared for nothing. Not you, not his son, not for the life you'd made here.

He was willing to throw it all away for his job—his pathetic mission that he put on a pedestal.

You'd never felt hurt like this before. You were betrayed, heartbroken, angry, and alone, exactly where you'd been when you first landed on Pandora. The only difference? You had something to lose now—a son you cared for more than anything. And a place in the war that was about to begin.

It all felt entirely hopeless.

But you'd known this would be how it ended all along, hadn't you? From the beginning, you'd known. You and Miles were opposites in every sense of the word. You’d always known he wouldn't choose you when it came down to it. This loss was one you'd been preparing for since day one.

You weren't going to let it overtake you. You couldn't. Not now. You had people to protect and fight for. The man you loved had made his choice, and now it was time for you to make yours. After all, you had promised him: you'd see him on the battlefield.

And when this was all over, you could deal with the mess. You could let yourself hurt and mourn. You could fall apart.

Until then, you had your own mission.

Grace turned towards you, a look of fear on her face. She caught sight of something behind you, eyes widening, and you turned. Jake and Neytiri were approaching the crowd, hand in hand. Your stomach tightened as you watched them. Whatever was about to happen was not going to be good. 

“Tsu’tey!” Jake called over the war cries, earning the leader’s attention. “Don’t do this!” 

Tsu’tey stomped towards the two, somehow looking even angrier than before. “You!”

“Listen, Brother,” Jake began, stepping towards the Na’vi with open hands. 

Tsu’tey shouted before your friend could get any closer, shoving him back. Neytiri was quick to step in, yelling a warning at Tsu’tey as she moved between him and Jake. She held her hands up, keeping him from moving any closer. The Warrior barely spared her a glance, all of his anger and attention on Jake. 

“You mated with this woman?” Tsu’tey accused, gesturing to Neytiri. Shocked murmurs rippled through the crowd. 

You felt yourself jolt. Jake and Neytiri, mated? What fantastic news in such terrible timing. 

“Oh, shit,” Grace breathed next to you, just as surprised as everyone else. Apparently, she hadn’t been privy to Jake’s internal turmoil. 

Mo’at stepped into the tense circle, giving her daughter a stern look. Her words came out slow and strong, the intensity of the situation mirrored in her voice. “Is this true?” 

Part of you wanted to step in, but you knew it wasn’t your place. This was between Jake, Neytiri, Tsu’tey, and the clan leaders. The best thing you could do now was to keep your mouth shut and watch. You had to put your faith in your friend. That he would do the right thing—choose the right path. 

With your heart still aching from Miles’ wrong choice, you were desperate for someone to do the opposite. 

Neytiri responded quickly, firm in her decision. She met both her parents’ eyes as she spoke. “We are mated before Eywa. It is done.” 

You couldn’t help but smile. Just as you’d thought, the affection didn’t go one way. Neytiri was just as charmed by Jake as he was by her. It made you unbelievably happy. 

Tsu’tey turned his head and backed away. You felt your heart ache for him, even as you were happy for your friend. 

“Brother, please,” Jake tried again, attempting to reason with Tsu’tey. “Do not attack the Sky People. Many Omatikaya will die if you do.” 

“You are not my brother!” Tsu’tey shouted. He unsheathed his blade and lunged. 

Many of the People shouted at them, Neytiri the loudest of all. Her Father grabbed her and pulled her aside, next to where you and Grace stood. Jake dodged Tsu'tey’s attack and reached for his own blade, only to throw it to the ground. He would not fight. 

“I am not your enemy!” He called to the Warrior, holding his hands up in surrender. “The enemy is out there, and they are very powerful!” 

Jake’s face was etched with desperation. He begged Tsu’tey to hear him out. “I can talk to them.” 

Tsu’tey’s mind was made up. He didn’t hesitate to lunge again, yelling an angry: “No more talking!”

This time, Jake didn’t dodge. He threw a fist at Tsu’tey, disarming him and shoving him away. Tsu’tey stumbled, just barely catching himself before he fell. He turned back towards the Avatar pilot, wiping blood off his lip. 

“I am Omatikaya. I am one of you,” Jake addressed the whole clan now, his eyes scanning the crowd. “And I have the right to speak.” 

Tsu’tey gave him a sharp look, but didn’t voice another complaint. Everyone fell silent. 

“I have something to say,” he continued in Na’vi, letting out a heavy sigh. “To all of you.” Then, in English, “The words are like stones in my heart.” 

Terrible realization washed over you. Jake was going to come clean—explain his original purpose here. He was going to lay it all bare, even with the risks. He could lose everything. He could lose his life. And still, you could see it. He would tell the truth. 

Before he could continue, Grace fell limp next to you. You gasped, dropping to your knees to catch her. You called her name, but saw no sign of movement. Cold dread clutched your heart.

No. The link had been severed. It had to be Miles. Any second now, you and Jake would be pulled out. Everything would be lost. 

You looked up, meeting your friend’s eyes. He shared the same panic you could feel in your chest. He mouthed something, but you couldn’t tell what it was. You didn’t have the chance to ask, either, before everything went black. 

When you opened your eyes again, you were back in your link pod. Luckily, you’d decided to go back out to the lab today. After your fight with Miles, you wanted to get some distance. Now he was here, pulling the plug on your team’s links. You pushed the pod open, catching sight of Norm being held back by soldiers. 

To your right, Miles was standing by Jake’s pod as he, too, was yanked out of his Avatar. He slammed the lid open, looking at your fiancé with wild eyes. 

“Are you out of your Goddamn mind?!” He exclaimed, breathless. 

“You crossed the line,” Miles’ calm voice responded before he threw a swift punch, knocking Jake back. 

“Miles!” You shouted, getting to your feet. He turned to you, raising an eyebrow. 

“Jake! What the hell is going on?” Grace called from behind you, but you hardly heard it. 

You were angry. So angry that your hands were shaking. You knew a good chunk of the anger was probably stemming from the pain you were in right now, but it was there nonetheless. You marched over to Miles, shoving your hands into his chest. 

“What the fuck is your problem?” You yelled, fiery eyes looking up at him. “What do you think you’re doing?” 

For a moment, you saw what might’ve been guilt flash through his eyes. It was gone in a flash, leaving only apathy. That was right. He’d made his choice—the mission over you. 

“Get this bunch handcuffed. We’re going back to base,” he called to his soldiers, looking past you. He moved over to Lyle, whispered something in his ear, and then he was gone. 

***

Nobody told you what was going on until you were back on base. Your team was taken to the central hub the RDA worked out of, where Parker Selfridge himself was waiting. Only then were you given any explanation about what was happening, as Miles pulled up the footage of Jake smashing the cameras on a piece of their equipment. As you watched the video, you couldn’t help but feel proud. Jake had made the right choice, and he’d caused Miles trouble. 

Maybe it was immature, but you really enjoyed that Miles was dealing with kinks in his plan. 

“You let me down, son,” Miles spoke to Jake, that sickening condescension on his face. “What, you got some local tail and forgot which team you’re playing for?” 

“Miles,” you warned. Your blood was boiling under your skin. Neytiri was a friend—Jake was a friend. You wouldn’t let him talk about them that way. 

Grace turned her attention to Selfridge, taking on the role of mediator as she attempted to talk him down from the assault. “Parker, listen. There may still be time to-”

“Shut your pie hole!” Miles interrupted her, stepping towards your friend. Instinctively, you moved between them. Though your relationship with your ex-fiance was going up in flames, you had the sneaking suspicion he wouldn’t hurt a hair on your head. However, you couldn’t say the same for Grace. 

The Colonel looked down at you, disbelief on his face. He wasn’t used to being so openly disobeyed or, in his eyes, betrayed. His jaw clenched as he glared down at you, but he didn’t make a move to get you out of the way. Just as you’d thought. 

“Or what, Ranger Rick?” Grace challenged, voice thick with anger. She wasn’t scared of him, and she wouldn’t bend to his attempts at subduing her. “You gonna shoot me?” 

His lips ticked up as he tilted his head. “I could do that.” 

The redhead just scoffed, rolling her eyes as she looked back at Parker. “You need to muzzle your dog.” 

Parker was rubbing his temples, looking like this whole situation was just too much for him. “Okay, can we just take this down a couple of notches, please?”

“You want to keep your people alive?” Jake asked, looking between Parker and Miles. “Start by listening to her,” he gestured to Grace, urging her to continue. 

“This is bad, Parker,” she explained. “Those trees were sacred to the Omatikaya in a way you can’t imagine.”

Selfridge chuckled, a sound of irritation and disbelief. “You know that? You throw a stick in the air around here, and it lands on some sacred fern!” 

“She’s not talking about some pagan voodoo here,” you butted in. “This is something real. Measurable in the biology of the forest.” 

He let out a deep sigh, a vein in his forehead bulging. “Which is what exactly?” 

You looked to Grace, giving her a nod to go on. She’d be able to put it into words better than you ever could. She took a breath and then spoke. “What we think we know is that there's some kind of… electrochemical communication between the roots of the trees. Like the synapses between neurons. Each tree has ten to the fourth connections to the trees around it, and there are ten to the twelfth trees on Pandora-”

“Which is a lot, I’m guessing,” Parker deadpanned. He didn’t seem very interested in all the science talk. 

“That's more connections than the human brain. You get it?” Grace explained, her eyes taking on that familiar sparkle they had when she was inspired. Just like you, she’d fallen deeply in love with this planet. “It's a network, a global network. And the Na'vi can access it. They can upload and download data—memories—at sites like the one you destroyed.”

Parker let out a laugh, an almost nervous thing. “What the hell have you people been smoking out there? They’re just Goddamn trees!” 

You stepped back into the conversation, your anger growing stronger by the second. “You’re not listening to her! You need to realize what you’ve just done. You need to understand what’s at risk, and understand these people.” 

“Oh, I think we understand them just fine, thanks to Jake here,” Miles spoke, gesturing once again to the holoscreen you’d watched Jake’s attack on. 

The footage was now replaced with a freeze frame of one of Jake’s video logs. A moment later, the video began to play. 

“They’re not gonna give up their home. They’re not gonna make a deal. For what?” The Jake in the video chuckled humorlessly, shaking his head. “Lite beer and blue jeans? No. We have nothing that they want.” You and Grace shared a look of dread, one that you saw mirrored on the real Jake’s face. His recording continued once more, the final nail in the coffin. “They’re never gonna leave Hometree.” 

The video stopped, leaving your group in a tense silence. The truth was out there now—there was nothing more you could say. Any arguments were pointless. You were quickly figuring out that they always had been, though. You’d just convinced yourself otherwise because you were in love. 

“Since a deal can’t be made, it gets real simple,” Miles spoke, his voice turning icy as he looked at Jake. “So thanks. I’m getting all emotional. Might just give you a big kiss.” 

“We can talk this out. We’re all rational,” you all-but begged, holding back the ‘most of us’ you wanted to add. Being this close to Miles, this angry at him, it burned. You couldn’t believe how quickly everything had turned upside down. 

Unfortunately for you, the rationality had left the building. They weren’t listening anymore. They’d made up their minds. Parker was putting a stop to the Avatar program, and the RDA was moving forward with their plans. Miles was getting everything he wanted.

You and your team were escorted out of the room. You could feel his eyes on you as you left, but you didn’t give him the courtesy of meeting his gaze. He’d ruined everything. You wouldn’t do anything to make him feel better about it. Even something as simple as looking at him.

***

Parker was going to let Miles attack Hometree. But, miracle of all miracles, Jake managed to get another chance to talk them into leaving. He and Grace were going back in, and you had every intention of going with them. As soon as you found someone you could leave Little Miles with.

You scooped the baby into your arms, cooing in response to his baby babbles. He curled up against you, ready for whatever adventure the two of you were going on. His hand grabbed a fistful of your shirt and held tight.

“Alright,” you breathed, kissing the top of his head. “Let’s see who wants to spend some time with you today while Mama tries to stop a war.”

His response was more nonsensical talk. You decided it meant that he supported your plan. You raised his little arm and high-fived him with your free hand. The baby squealed in delight, and you couldn’t help but smile. What a good little buddy he was.

You left your room after that—correction: tried to leave your room. The moment the door slid open, you were met with the broad chest of one Lyle Wainfleet. He stood squarely in the doorway, blocking your exit. You looked up at him, incredulous.

“Lyle? What the fuck are you doing?”

At least he had the good sense to look apologetic. “Sorry, y/n. It’s nothing personal, just… Colonel’s orders.”

Your stomach twisted into knots. You narrowed your eyes, dread freezing your veins. “What’s Colonel’s orders?”

He sighed, long and deep. “You know I can’t let you leave. The Colonel can’t have you out there when things go south.”

“When things go south? What happened to giving Jake another shot?” You exclaimed. Little Miles started to squirm in your arms, hiccupping unhappily. He’d always been very in tune with your emotions. You took a steadying breath, soothing the boy with a back rub. “Lyle, get the hell out of my way and let me leave.”

“No can do. We both know how this is gonna end, and I’m not allowed to let you be a part of it,” he explained. The regret had vanished from his face, replaced with cool determination. You wanted to hit him as hard as you possibly could. “Step back into the room, please. I don’t want to have to use force.”

Your blood boiled under your skin. You grit your teeth so hard you worried they might crack. It barely registered with you. “I’m not fucking staying in this room.”

Lyle’s gaze flitted to your son, and the anger snapped into fear in an instant. As dedicated as you were to this, there was one thing in this world that would always come first. Lyle—and Miles—knew he was your only weakness. And at this point, you couldn’t be sure they wouldn’t stoop so low. It was a sickening revelation.

“Get in the room, y/n,” he said again, a double-meaning laced in his voice. Hatred curdled your stomach. You hoped it showed in your eyes as you glared at him.

You took a step back—you had no other choice. But you didn’t break eye contact until the door had completely separated the two of you. He didn’t react, not until the very end, when he thought he’d be out of sight. It told you enough. Lyle knew he’d gone too far.

A sickening crunch sounded from the other side of the door. Your heart shattered with it. He was breaking the access panel outside—he was locking you in. Trapping you like an animal in a cage.

“No!” You cried, slamming a fist against the door. Miles immediately began to wail in your arms. You’d scared him, or maybe he just hated seeing you upset. “No, no, no, no.”

Your eyes stung as you sank to your knees. You had never felt this devastated in your life. Everything you thought you knew, everything you cared about, was burning up right before you. You couldn’t do anything but sit here and watch.

All because you’d fallen in love.

“Shh, it’s okay,” you murmured to the crying baby, sounding just as upset as he was. You stroked a hand through his curls. “It’s okay, baby. You’re okay. Mama’s here. We’re gonna- we’ll be alright.”

He slowly started to quiet, the sobs turning into hiccups as you rocked him. You wished your tears showed the same signs of stopping. But it seemed the pain weighing you down only had one outlet. At least there was no one there to see it.

“We’re gonna be okay,” you spoke again, more to yourself than your son. You didn’t know how, but you would be. You’d come this far—you weren’t going to give up now.

There was at least one thing to fight for, to keep safe. You’d do whatever it took. You were done being afraid.

Time stopped having meaning three hours into your captivity. At this point, you weren’t sure if it was still day anymore. Little Miles had fallen asleep not long ago and snoozed peacefully in the other room. You, on the other hand, were wide awake. Fighting to find a way out.

The door wouldn’t open from the inside due to Lyle’s damage. You’d tried breaking it, prying it open, and even considered arson at one point. Still, no dice. Whatever he’d done was foolproof.

You thought about squeezing through the air vent, but there was no way you could take your baby up there. And since you couldn’t leave him in here alone… you were back to square one. Good thing it wasn’t infuriating. It’s not like there was a war going on or anything.

The only option you had left was trying to hack into the door. But you were not a fucking hacker. You were a scientist! Sure, you knew how to use the holopads for your research, but that was pretty much it. This was way out of your wheelhouse. 

You could only hope that somehow you were blessed with the skills to escape. You couldn’t sit here and twiddle your thumbs.

The third hairpin in a row snapped in half as you pressed it into the control panel. Crying out in frustration, you threw it across the room and buried your face in your hands. Your body shook with fury. Fury, hopelessness, anguish. How many times were you going to stand by and watch your life crumble beneath your feet?

You hated Miles. You hated him so much that it was burning you alive.

But then you heard it. Small, muffled, fleeting, but there. Voices on the other side of the door. Coming closer with each passing second. It was a chance.

“Hey!” You called, getting to your feet. Your hands pounded on the door, flesh against metal. “Hey, I’m in here! Help! I can’t get out!”

“Y/n?” One of the voices called, too far for you to discern its owner. You were breathless, desperate to be released from this damn room.

“Y/n? Is that you in there?” Grace asked, now right on the other side of the door. You nearly collapsed in relief as tears welled in your eyes. Thank God.

“Yes. Yeah, I’m- the door’s broken. I’m locked in,” you rasped. “That asshole trapped me in here.”

Jake’s voice came next, like music to your ears. “Can you open it?” 

“I’ll try,” Max responded, followed by the sounds of tinkering. You pressed your palms flat against the door.

“We’re gonna get you out, y/n, just hold on!” Norm called. He’d always been so sweet. They were just words, but somehow you believed them. The ball of anguish began to untangle in your chest.

“Let’s hurry it up, guys. We’re out in the open here.”

That was Trudy. Surely the leader of this rescue mission—and the most capable. All of your friends were here. Fighting to get you out, fighting for what was right. And most importantly, not leaving you behind.

You hadn’t realized how abandoned you’d felt until they reminded you that you weren’t. A hiccup-sob left your throat.

Your son began to cry in the other room, bringing you back to Earth with a hard smack. You gasped, pulled away from the door, and ran into his room. He was squirming in his crib, the right side of his hair flat against his face. Adorable as always. You gathered him in your arms and rushed back to your chance of escape.

“Good morning, sweetheart. You’ve got great timing,” you murmured to him, pressing a kiss to one of his tiny little hands. “We’re getting out of here.”

As if the universe were listening, and finally cutting you a break, the door slid open. You came face-to-face with your friends and couldn’t help but smile. Even if everything was terrible, at least you weren’t going through it alone anymore.

“Come on, we gotta go. Someone’s gonna realize you’re gone at some point,” Trudy ordered, gesturing down the hall with her head. 

“Wait, what’s going on?” You asked. “What happened to you guys talking them into leaving Hometree?”

Jake and Grace shared matching expressions of devastation. Your heart shriveled in your chest. No.

“Hometree was destroyed. The Na’vi fled, and Selfridge pulled the plug,” Grace told you. “They had us locked up until Trudy and Max got us out.”

“I’m so sorry,” you said, because you were. Grief and anger flooded your nervous system. Anger at what Miles had done. Anger that you hadn’t been there. Grief over the lives, the homes, the culture that was lost now.

It filled you with so much sorrow that you could hardly breathe.

“It’s okay,” Jake responded with the hardened voice of an army man. “We’re gonna fix it.”

You smiled. That was more like it. “Let’s go, then.”

Your group made your way to the hangar, going as stealthily as possible. Miles was the most well-behaved little boy in the world; he didn’t even make a peep. You couldn’t have asked for a better partner in crime. But as you approached the door to your escape, you paused. There was no way you could take him with you.

Lucky for you, you weren’t the only one to hesitate.

Jake stopped and grabbed Max’s shoulder as the others hurried to the ship. When the scientist looked down at him, he spoke. “Stay here. I need somebody on the inside I can trust.”

Max nodded, taking on his new task with grace. Then he glanced at you and Miles. “I’ll take him. I’ll keep him safe.”

You could’ve cried. You passed your son over to your friend and kissed the top of his little head. He looked at you, eyes big and brown, and gave you a gummy smile. You knew he didn’t understand what was happening, but you felt like he was cheering you on. Giving you permission to go and fight.

“I love you, Miles,” you whispered, cupping his cheeks. “I’ll be back soon.”

He babbled in response. You smiled, stepped back, and turned to your friend in the wheelchair. Gesturing to the gun in his lap—who knows where he got it from—you immediately held it out to Max after Jake handed it over.

“Take this,” you told him. “If Quaritch comes for Miles, or sends anyone for him, you use it. You don’t hesitate. Understand?”

He paled just a little, but he nodded. He tucked the gun away and held tighter to Miles. “I won’t let you down.”

“Thank you.”

“You ready to go?” Jake asked.

“Yeah,” you breathed. “Let’s go.”

The escape occurred with little disruption. Quaritch caught wind of your plan and attempted to stop it in his usual way: with a spray of bullets. It made you feel sick—he was shooting at your friends with the intention of killing them. You had no idea whether he knew if you were in there, and you weren’t sure which option was worse. It only reinforced what you’d already come to realize.

The man you loved didn’t exist anymore.

Excited whoops filled the ship as you flew off into the night. You even found yourself giving a little smile. Just an hour ago, you’d felt completely hopeless. But you’d gotten out, you’d found your friends, and you were going to help make things right. A mountain of pressure had lifted from your chest.

“Shit…” Grace hissed next to you, drawing your attention. Her hand, currently pressed to her stomach, pulled away to reveal dark red blood seeping through her shirt. It stained her hand, taunting, punishing. “This is gonna ruin my whole day.”

Your insides turned icy. Bile rose in your throat. Quaritch had shot your best friend.

“Grace is hit!” Jake shouted to Norm and Trudy, who immediately responded in panicked shouts. He placed a hand on her knee as you took her bloody fingers and intertwined them with your own. “Hang on, Grace. We’ll get you help.”

“It’s gonna be okay,” you promised, though you very well knew you couldn’t guarantee that. Her face told you that she knew it too. But she didn’t respond, instead letting you sit in your denial.

The next several events happened in a blur. You and Jake entered your Avatars while Norm stayed with Grace and Trudy. You woke up at the Tree of Souls, a beautiful place you’d never had the chance to see, filled to the brim with grieving Na’vi. It warmed your heart to know that they’d taken your unconscious body with them, even as they felt betrayed by you and your colleagues. 

Jake arrived not long after, riding the beast they called Toruk. The People cried out in fear and awe as he approached.

He had proven himself with this feat. He had won back the trust of the Na’vi, as well as his mate. With this, you were able to ask for their help in saving Grace.

It was a simple procedure, but you could barely wrap your head around it. They were going to enlist the help of Eywa and attempt to transfer Grace’s consciousness into her Avatar body. Permanently.

It was going to work. It had to work.

Jake carried Grace to the base of the tree, murmuring to her as he went. He laid her down opposite her Avatar and stepped back. Then it was Mo’at’s turn to take over.

You knelt next to Grace and took her hand into your large blue ones. She looked up at you, pale and tired, and managed a smile. “Sticking with me until the end?”

“This isn’t the end,” you spoke immediately, tears streaking down your cheeks. You sniffled and tried again. “But yes. You’re never getting rid of me.”

Her smile grew, somehow. “I love you, y/n.”

You squeezed her hands softly. “I’ll see you on the other side.”

Grace’s eyes slipped closed, never to be opened again. You kept your hold on her, steadfast and constant. Until the end.

It felt like an eternity had passed when Mo’at’s chanting finally slowed. As she quieted, so did the rest of the clan. Neytiri, sat next to you with a hand on your shoulder, leaned forward. You followed suit. The silence was crushing.

Then Grace—human Grace—gasped, her eyes flitting open. She looked up at you, at Jake, your names falling from her lips. He crouches next to you and takes her other hand.

“I’m with her,” she whispered, awe thrumming in her words. “She’s real.”

You opened your mouth to respond, to ask what’s happening, when Grace went limp. Her eyes closed again as the vines entangling her body dimmed. Immediately, you looked to her Avatar. Waiting for movement. Waiting for your friend.

The Avatar lay still. The vines around that body began to dim as well.

“Wha-” you looked up at Mo’at, wordlessly asking for answers. 

The Tsahik’s expression bore sorrow, regret. Cold, dark tar filled your lungs. No. No, please, no. Not Grace. Don’t take her.

“Her wounds were too great. There was not enough time,” she explained. The words felt like a death sentence. “She is with Eywa now.”

Wails attempted to surge from your chest, crushing your lungs, but you stayed silent. You curled in on yourself, pressing your forehead to Grace’s cold, lifeless hand. Your breaths were shuddering, the tears coming faster than you could comprehend them. Neytiri’s hand, which had been rubbing your back, slipped away. You were left alone.

Quaritch had killed your best friend.

You didn’t move. Not when Jake asked Tsu’tey for the chance to speak, not when he called for the clan’s support. Not when he declared war on the Sky People. You stayed put and cried over Grace’s body.

A hand curled over your shoulder, finally forcing you to look up. Mo’at looked down at you, sympathy in her bright eyes. When she spoke, the words rang into your very soul. You could feel the power of Eywa behind every syllable.

“She is at peace, child,” she told you. “Take comfort in that knowledge and fight. Fight for her.”

It lit a fire inside of you. The pain, the sadness, the fear, all melded into one. Anger. Determination. Action.

You needed to do something, and you needed to do it now.

Meeting Mo’at’s gaze once again, you wiped the tears from your face. “Thank you.”

The call to battle came, and you did not shy from it. You had someone to avenge, after all. Jake and Neytiri flew their ikrans, and you took a direhorse with Norm. The gun felt foreign in your hands, too cold and jagged and unforgiving. Though you supposed it fit.

You felt quite cold and jagged and unforgiving yourself.

It was terrifying and exhilarating. The feeling of the beast under you, her breath matching your own, carrying you through the forest. You killed soldiers—took lives with your own hands. And every time it started to get to you, every time you nearly collapsed with remorse, you remembered. You remembered Grace, Neytiri’s father, the countless others who’d been killed.

You remembered your son, waiting for you to come home to him.

Then it suddenly became easy again.

Fury was driving you. Pain. All you could see was red, and you had no intention of changing that.

When a bullet whizzed through Norm’s left shoulder, knocking him off his direhorse and into the dirt, you barely flinched. When another pierced your stomach, it only made you angry. You fell to the ground a few feet from your friend, and everything went dark.

It was only when you woke up in your pod, still feeling the ache in your gut, that you came back to yourself. And the sorrow returned.

You climbed out of your pod to find Norm on the ground in front of his, hyperventilating. His hand shook above the spot he’d been shot in. He didn’t even glance in your direction, as if he had no idea you were there.

“Norm?” You asked. Moving to crouch in front of him, you took his hands. “Norm, hey, look at me. It’s okay. You’re okay. Look at me.”

His eyes managed to reach yours, frantic and wide. You brushed your thumbs over the backs of his hands. “You’re okay, you’re alright. Come on, breathe. Breathe with me.”

You began to take deep, even breaths and encouraged him to follow. He did, shakily at first, then slower and slower—until you were breathing in sync. Smiling warmly, you gave him a nod. “There we go.”

Norm was stable now. Past the fear that had clutched him so tightly. He looked at you again, and his brows furrowed. “You’re crying,” he murmured, one of his thumbs coming up to swipe across your cheek. It came away wet.

It sent a jolt through you. You hadn’t even realized. Quickly wiping the tears away, you shook your head. “I’m okay,” you told him, and then, “we’re okay.”

He smiled. Weakly, but a smile nonetheless. After a beat, he spoke again. “We have to keep fighting.”

“You don’t have to,” you assured him. “You can stay here. You’ve done your part.”

“No,” he shook his head. “I haven’t done enough. And I can’t abandon them. Not until it’s over.”

That made you smile. He’d grown so much from the timid scientist you’d once met. You got to your feet and offered him your hand. “Alright, then. Let’s go.”

The two of you geared up with guns and masks and all the ammo you could carry. You stepped out into the Pandoran forests not as your Avatars—something that could die while you lived—but in your very mortal, very killable human bodies. You went out, and you continued to fight.

***

The battle ended. Eywa heard Jake’s plea for help, and she listened. The Sky People had been overpowered. The Na’vi had won. The violence was finally, blissfully over.

Now you could try to put your life back together.

You and Norm returned to the base, high on adrenaline, only to find carnage. A dead Thanator, Jake’s Avatar lying limp and lifeless, the lab smashed open, glass and metal littering the ground, and—

And Colonel Miles Quaritch, dead inside his mechanical suit. Two of Neytiri’s arrows were buried in his chest.

Your feet stumbled to a halt under you, completely of their own volition. Every bit of air left your lungs. The mask- was your mask working? Could you breathe? Was there a leak, and toxic air was filling your chest?

Were you moments from a death of your own?

“Y/n, I’m so sorry…” Norm said, muffled and faraway. His hand rested on your shoulder, squeezing lightly.

“Go check on Jake. Make sure he’s okay.” Was that your voice? 

“Are you-” he began, stopped, and tried again, “do you need any-”

“Please go check on Jake, Norm,” you sobbed, the words ripped from your throat. “I need- I need you to go.”

He stepped back, understanding on his face that you probably didn’t deserve. “Okay. I’ll just be in the lab if you need me.”

You didn’t respond. You didn’t watch him go to the destroyed facility. You didn’t take your eyes off the corpse of your fiancé. His glassy eyes pointed towards the sky, face frozen in pain. Your body felt hot and cold at the same time.

One wobbly step at a time, you walked up to him. Leaned over the side of the suit. Looked at his face for a long, long time. Waited for your body to remember how to function.

You thought you might throw up. But you felt far too empty for anything to actually come out.

Minutes or hours later, you finally found the strength to speak.

“You son of a bitch,” you wept, rage and agony and loss coursing through you so viscerally that you were shaking. “Was it worth it? Seeing your mission through, throwing everything away to see it to the end. Did you get what you wanted?”

He didn’t answer, of course. The only response was the sounds of the forest. It just served to make you angrier.

“You ruined my life. I hate you. I hate you for- for making me love you, for making me plan my life with you and then fucking- tossing it aside like it was nothing!” Your mask was fogging up from the hot tears pooling on your cheeks. You squeezed your eyes shut. “And I hate you for leaving me. I hate that I have to mourn you now.”

You buried your face in your hands. The glass was shockingly cold against your skin. “You took everything from me. Over and over again. And I still always loved you. Maybe I always will.”

That was it. There was nothing else to say, nothing to do. You could sit here all day and cry, and nothing would change. You had to move on. You had to. You wouldn’t survive otherwise.

Getting to your feet, you took a big breath to steady yourself. You took the mask from his face and closed his eyes. He wouldn’t get a funeral, he wouldn’t be mourned by anyone but you, but you would let him rest. You would at least do that. For the man you’d fallen in love with.

The sun glinted off the dog tags around his neck, and you paused. Argued internally with yourself. Finally, you sighed, pulled them from his chest, and slid them into your pocket. You’d always been too sentimental for your own good.

“Goodbye, Miles.”

You turned your back on him and walked away. It was time to let this chapter of your life close. There was still so much to do, so much pain to process, but the worst of it was over. It was time to rebuild now.

God, you needed to hold your son.

After a pause, he continued. “I pulled your record, Corporal. Venezuela, that was some mean bush. Nothing like this here, though.” He looked Jake up and down, tongue stuck in his cheek. “You got some heart, kid, showing up in this neighborhood.” 

Shaking his head, the Marine replied almost nonchalantly. “I figured it’s just another hellhole.” 

The man sure had the heart of a soldier—taking on any task he was given without hesitation. A hard worker, not afraid to get his hands dirty. Perfect for the plan Miles had brewing. He couldn’t have planned it better if he tried.

He smirked, getting to his feet. “I was First Recon myself. A few years ahead of you. Well- maybe more than a few.” He left the gym room, not needing to instruct Jake to follow. “Three tours Nigeria, not a scratch. I come out here?” He turned back to Jake, continuing to walk, and gestured to the scars spanning over the right side of his skull. “Day one. Think I felt like a shavetail louie?” 

Jake let out a small laugh, rolling to a stop as Miles climbed up the side of his mechanical suit. “You got a point to this little backstory you’re giving, sir?” 

“My point-” he began, getting himself strapped in, “The Avatar program is a bad joke. Bunch of limp-dick science majors.” 

A technician lifted Jake on a ramp, bringing him to the Colonel’s height. He spoke up, raising his eyebrows. “Isn’t your fiancé one of those science majors?” 

The Colonel paused, sighing. “My dear y/n—bless her heart—she doesn’t know about all the terrible things out there. She hasn’t seen the things we have. She thinks peace, cooperation, all that shit is an option. And that hope in her, it’s pure. It’s what drives her. She likes to look for the good in things, including me.

“Thing is, that just isn’t realistic. This ain’t some fairytale that’s gonna end with us all holding hands and singing kumbaya,” he explained. “This is war. And should be treated as such. Which brings me to you.” 

“Me?” Jake asked. 

“You,” he responded. “Your setup, it presents a situation both timely and unique.” The mechanical suit began powering up, whirring to life. “A recon gyrene in an Avatar body. That’s a potent mix,” Miles quipped, smirking. “Gives me the goosebumps.” 

Sully tilted his head, listening intently. 

“Such a Marine could provide the intel I need, right on the ground.” After checking he was all suited up, he tilted his head towards the man. “Right in the hostiles’ camp.” The Colonel flexed his hands, testing the suit's movement. “Look, Sully. I want you to learn these savages from the inside. I want you to gain their trust. I need to know how to force their cooperation, or hammer them hard if they won’t. The sooner we take care of this, the sooner I can focus on my family and make this place safe for them.” 

Jake hesitated for a moment, flexing his jaw. “Am I still with Augustine?” 

“On paper,” he jeered. “Yeah, you walk like one of her science pukes, you quack like one, but you report to me. Can you do that for me, son?” 

Seeming to mull over it for a moment, the Corporal lowered his head. Then he was looking up, a confident smile playing at his lips. “Hell yeah, sir.” 

Miles nodded, pride bubbling up in his chest. He knew he’d lucked out with this one. “Well, alright, then.” 

He took a few steps after that, the suit moving with him. Turning back to his new comrade, he rested his hands on his hips. “Son, I take care of my own. You get me what I need, I’ll see to it you get your legs back when you rotate home. Your real legs.” 

For the first time since he’d met the man, Miles saw a glimmer of hope in his eyes. Something almost like joy. He’d been given motivation, something to work for. Just like Miles had you and your son. 

He half-smiled, nodding once again. “That sounds real good, sir.” 

You

You were finally getting the chance to pilot your Avatar for the first time in what felt like years. Little Miles was left in the hands of your fiancé, with detailed instructions and a loving kiss goodbye. You knew the man you loved was capable of caring for his son, but this was the first time you’d been away from your baby for an extended period of time. You were nervous. Really fucking nervous. 

You were going out with Grace and the new guys, Jake and Norm. You’d learned from Grace during a briefing this morning that Jake had made quite the splash during the first connection to his Avatar body. He’d broken out and gone for a run, testing out his new body immediately. Despite the trouble it caused, you were thrilled for him. If you’d been paralyzed for years and then could suddenly walk again, you’d do the same thing. 

You weren’t sure what it was, but you had a feeling you and Jake would get along well. 

Trudy was flying you guys out, with Lyle and Jake manning guns. The entire ride was spent with Lyle making conversation with you, asking about little Miles or how you were doing. His excitement about having a kid around was not in the least hidden, and it warmed your heart. Lyle had always been good to you, and he adored your son. You’d even go as far as to say the two of you were friends, careers set aside. 

When you guys finally landed in the gorgeous Na’vi woods, you immediately hopped out of the chopper, eager to stretch your legs. You reminded Norm to grab his pack as Grace instructed Trudy to kill the engine, Jake coming up to you with a large rifle in his hands. Lyle was instructed to stay with Trudy and the ship, and the four of you in Avatars made your way off into the woods. The fresh air was amazing, the sun was warm on your skin, and you were thrilled to be back out here. It had been so, so long. 

“Looks like you’re enjoying yourself,” Jake commented, breaking you from your thoughts. The two of you took up the rear as you strolled along. Norm and Grace were ahead, chattering about potential samples to take. 

You looked over at him, smiling. His Avatar bore a strong resemblance to his human form, as intended, and you had to admit he was handsome—in both bodies. His large yellow eyes, sharp fangs, pointed ears; all Na’vi features he wore well. The long dark hair and blue skin complemented him, and he seemed to glow with each step he took. Something he probably thought he’d never do again. How bittersweet to gain something so wonderful through such a tragedy.

“I am,” you responded, a slight breeze ruffling the hair that fell in waves down your back. “I haven’t been out since before I found out I was pregnant.” 

“Damn, long while then.” 

You scoffed a laugh and nodded. “Yeah. But not as long as you.” You tilted your head towards his legs, then met his eyes again. 

He chuckled, shifting his grip on the gun. “You got that right. It’s real nice to have them back.” 

“I bet,” you hummed, pausing for a moment before speaking again. “How did you get injured? If you don’t mind me asking.” 

“Nah, I don’t mind,” he responded, eyes on the path ahead of you. “I was on a tour—almost home. I got sloppy, I guess. Careless. Didn’t look where I was walking, and I… got blown sky-high. Apparently, it’s a miracle I survived it.” 

You nodded as he spoke, face solemn. Your heart broke for everything he had to endure, but you were glad he was still here despite it all. He really seemed like a good person. “Army?”

“Marine,” he corrected. 

“Ahh..” you laughed lightly, tail swishing. “Explains why Grace is so fond of you.” 

“She got a bad history with soldiers?” 

“Ehh-” you shrugged, wrinkling your nose, “Scientists and soldiers… don’t really mix.” 

Jake looked at you for a moment, face bewildered. When you returned the expression with a quirked eyebrow, he finally spoke. “You’ve got a kid with one.” 

You laughed almost nervously, waving away his words. “Yeah, Miles and I? We’re complicated. I can’t really explain it.” 

“Love tends to be that way,” the ex-Marine nodded, pressing his lips together. “The Colonel seems like a good guy.” 

“The Colonel? No. He’s terrible. A real piece of shit,” you grumbled, eyes dark. Your ears flattened against your head as you continued. “But Miles? Absolutely. He’s wonderful. A terrific man, and a great father.” 

Chuckling, the man gave you a humorous look. “How does that work?” 

You opened your mouth to respond, heaving a sigh, but Grace cut you off as she called you over. You sent Jake an apologetic smile, hurrying over to where your superior and Norm were crouched. You bent over next to them, resting your hands on your knees. 

“What’s up?” You asked. 

“Check out these readings,” she spoke, gesturing to the little holopad Norm held. You scanned the data, watching numbers and information flash across the screen. A sample taken from the roots below your feet, showing off the connection that everything on this planet shared. 

“Holy shit,” you breathed, squatting down to get a better look. 

“It’s amazing,” Norm spoke, sounding just as awestruck as you felt. It was his first time seeing this, and your first time in about a year. But the magic never wore off.

“Isn’t it?” Grace laughed, smiling brightly. If anything got her out of her grumpy state, it was her work. As long as idiots with guns didn’t overshadow said work.

Speaking of an idiot with a gun… 

You turned around just in time to see Jake face-to-face with a hammerhead titanothere, the creature stomping and roaring at him. You gasped and moved closer while still out of sight, Grace and Norm following suit. Just as the man raised his gun towards the animal, Grace called out to him over the comms. 

“Don’t shoot,” she demanded, eyes wide. “Don’t shoot, you’ll piss him off.” 

You and Norm watched the stand-off in stunned silence. Your heart thundered in your chest. Jake kept his eyes on the animal, ears pinned back, tilting his head ever so slightly back towards the three of you. 

“It’s already pissed off!” He exclaimed, and you could sense the fear coming off of him. 

You spoke next, trying to sound soothing yet firm. “Jake, that armor’s too thick. Trust me.” 

The animal let out another cry, swinging its head to knock down the trees next to it. They fell to the ground with a thud that echoed through the forest. You felt like your heart was going to burst, and you weren’t the one facing off with it. One wrong move, and Jake could be pummeled. 

Not killed, but he would feel every bit of it, and his Avatar would be destroyed.

“It’s a territorial threat display,” Grace explained, voice thick with stress. “Do not run, or he’ll charge.” 

Jake glanced over at you all, the gun held up to the sky rather than towards the creature. “So, what do I do, dance with it?” 

Well, good to know his sense of humor was intact. 

“Just… hold your ground,” you instructed.

The animal growled and pawed at the ground for a moment. Then he roared, running at the man in front of him. You felt your heart drop, and for a moment, you pictured the gruesome scene about to play out. Having to take his battered body back to base, mourning millions of dollars spent and wasted. Jake would have permanent trauma, no doubt about it. It all flashed in your mind right then and there.

Jake yelled back at the charging creature, surging forward and raising his arms to look larger. It caused the animal to halt, trumpeting in surprise. You heard Jake breathe out a laugh, probably just as surprised that it worked as you were. Slowly, the titanothere began backing away. 

“Yeah?” Jake taunted, high on adrenaline. “Come on! What you got?” 

You allowed yourself to breathe again, exhaling shakily. The dumbass had somehow survived that. You really, really thought he wouldn’t. Based on the way Grace was taking slow breaths with closed eyes, she hadn’t either. Norm looked like he’d had an accident in his trousers. 

“Oh, yeah. Who’s bad? That’s right,” Jake continued, and you couldn’t help but smile. Not cocky at all, it seemed. “Yeah, that’s what I’m talking about, bitch.” 

But just when you thought you were out of the woods, things took a turn for the worse. 

A thanator crept over a tree branch behind Jake, sharp eyes locked on him. One of Pandora’s most dangerous predators—only a few feet away from a man entirely out of his depth. Jake turned towards the animal at the sound of branches cracking under its paws, his eyes going wide and ears drooping down in fear. He stumbled back, just slightly. You heard Grace’s breath hitch the same way yours had. 

“So, what do I do with this one?” The ex-Marine asked, voice slightly wobbly. “Run, don’t run? What?” 

“Run, definitely run!” Grace shouted, and Jake didn’t hesitate to take off into the forest. The thanator was immediately on his tail, and all you could do was watch in horror as he disappeared into the trees, the sound of gunfire in his wake. 

“Get back to the ship,” your boss demanded, and all you could do was numbly follow after her and Norm. Blood rushed in your ears, silencing everything else.

Once Trudy and Lyle had been briefed, you all piled into the helicopter to search for Jake. You spent hours flying above Pandora’s lush forests in search of the bright blue Avatar. Much to everyone’s dismay, he was nowhere to be seen. The sun was already beginning to set on the horizon, the atmosphere getting cooler by the second. You felt your hope of finding him slowly start to dwindle. 

“I'm going to have to call it, guys. We're not allowed to run night ops,” Trudy spoke over the comms, breaking the solemn silence. “Colonel’s orders.” 

“Shit,” you muttered, more to yourself than anyone else.

“Sorry, Doc. He’s just gonna have to hang on ‘til morning.” 

It was Grace who spoke next, her words like weights dragging you down. “He won’t make it ‘til morning.” 

No one said anything as the ship was turned around, taking all of you back to base. You prayed—to God, to Eywa, to anyone who was listening—that Jake could get out of this in one piece. 

Miles was waiting for you when you returned. Just inside past the docking bay, your sleeping son in his arms. You knelt in front of him to be more at his height, still in your Avatar body, and gave him a weak smile. You gently brushed long blue fingers over little Miles’ head, causing him to stir. 

“My favorite boys,” you spoke, looking back at your fiancé. “Was he good while I was gone?” 

“Well, he bawled for an hour when you first left. Missing his mama, no doubt,” Miles chuckled. “But I fed him a bottle, and he was fine after that.” 

“Good, that’s good,” you breathed, a little too heavily. Miles’ brows immediately knitted together in concern. 

“What’s up, baby?” He asked. 

“Um-” You paused, rubbing a hand over your forehead. “Jake had a run-in with a thanator. Ended up taking off into the woods, and we couldn’t find him. We had to leave him out there. I just- I’m worried about him. And it was… kinda terrifying.” 

“Oh, shit. Is he okay?” He reached over and rested a hand on your arm, rubbing up and down slightly. “Are you okay?” 

“I don’t know. I need to get back to the lab and see if he’s out of the link,” your ears were pointed down, tail twitching behind you. “And I’m- it’s fine. Nothing that I haven’t dealt with before. I just…” You glanced down at your son, at his perfect little face, content in slumber. “It made me realize how much I have to lose now.” 

“Are you not wanting to do your job anymore?” Miles questioned, still touching your bicep. 

“No! God, no,” you shook your head, swallowing. “I love my job. That hasn’t changed. I just think- there’s so much danger here already. And you’re only making it worse with the hostility towards the Natives. This is our son’s home. We need to make it safe for him.” 

Your partner’s expression darkened, clearly unhappy with what you were saying. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught sight of Grace and Norm heading to the building where the unpiloted Avatars were kept. You sighed. Getting back to your feet, you looked down at him. 

“I have to go put my Avatar up and see what’s going on with Jake. I’ll see you in our room,” you told him. “We can talk about this later.” 

Miles nodded, leaving without another word. You were grateful it hadn’t turned into a domestic scene. You’d argue with him later—in private. Shaking your head, you pushed the thoughts away and hurried after your co-workers. 

Jake was still in the link, which meant he was conscious in his Avatar body. After requesting that Grace let you know when he was back, you went to your room, where Miles waited. The two of you argued for a while, keeping your voices down due to the sleeping baby. You begged him to consider a path for this mission that didn’t resort to violence, and he scolded you for thinking there was any other option. You called him a heartless, brutal machine, and he called you a naive, selfish viper. 

You told him to get out. He listened. He stomped out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him. Your son immediately burst into tears, startled by the noise, and you went to soothe him. 

Little Miles was quick to quiet, comforted by his mother’s touch, but then it was your turn to cry. Lying on your too-big bed alone, sobbing silently next to your once-again sleeping child. Everything felt like too much right now. You felt like there was nothing to do but fall apart. You cried until the tears wouldn’t come anymore, and then stared at the wall with a pointer finger held in your baby’s little fist. Though it was late into the night, you didn’t sleep. You couldn’t. 

Norm came to your room not long after, informing you that Jake had finally come out of his link. He was kind enough not to ask about the bloodshot eyes or tear-stained face. It instantly strengthened your relationship with him. 

Taking a moment to collect yourself, you wrapped your baby to your chest and followed him to the lab. 

Somehow, by some miracle or fluke or whatever, Jake had been allowed into the Omatikaya clan. He would be trained to become one of the People by none other than Neytiri, daughter of the Olo’eyktan and the Tsahik. You had a history with Neytiri; so did Grace. When humans first arrived, and communication with the Na’vi was much more peaceful, the two of you ran a school to teach the Na’vi children English. 

Neytiri had been a student there, along with her sister, Sylwanin. 

But then the attack happened. Sylwanin was killed in front of her sister, the school was abandoned, and the Omatikaya cut all contact with humans. You and Grace mourned that loss and carried that burden every single day. Relations got worse with the indigenous as violence was used more and more, and with no way back to negotiate, all you could do was watch. It was devastating. 

But now, through the grace of Eywa, there was hope. 

That hope rode on the shoulders of a cocky newcomer who knew absolutely nothing about the Na’vi, but it was there nonetheless.

You sat in complete silence the entire time Jake recalled the events of his night. From being saved from a pack of viperwolves by Neytiri to eating with the clan in the Hometree, every word was like fire in your veins. You longed so desperately to be there with the People. You’d fallen so deeply in love with their culture from the moment you first learned about it. Even more so when you got to experience parts of it yourself.

Miles and his soldiers had taken that away from you, another thought that kept your anger towards him boiling. He had no clue what he was missing out on. What he was destroying. It made your heart ache so deeply. 

You knew that everyone could sense how upset you were, but they were all gracious enough not to comment. After Jake finished his story, Grace ordered you all to get some sleep and be fresh-faced and ready for work tomorrow. She was saying it directly to you, even if she disguised it otherwise. It made you more grateful to have her in your life. At least you had one person who would never let you down. 

Everyone filed out and headed back to their rooms after that, and you stood to do the same. You returned to your empty room, put your son back in his crib, and went to bed alone.

The following month went by in a blur. Jake spent almost all of his time in Avatar form, learning the way of the People from Neytiri. Grace moved her base of operations to the Hallelujah Mountains, while you stayed at the home base with your son. She did take your Avatar with her, so any linking you did automatically sent you to your team. As time went on and Jake slowly gained the Omatikaya’s trust, you and Grace were allowed back into the village. 

It was bittersweet to see the little ones you used to teach, admiring how they’d grown and wishing you’d been there to see it. Grace immediately took to seeing how well their English knowledge had been retained, having them name body parts or count. You watched her with soft eyes, so happy Eywa had allowed you to return. It was so healing for both you and your friend after carrying the burden of what had happened for so long. You hadn’t seen her this happy for quite some time. 

Your attention was pulled away from her and the children as Neytiri approached you, so much more grown than when you’d last seen her. She was a woman now—a strong warrior and future Tsahik. No longer the little girl peeking around her sister that you’d been so fond of. The sight of her made your heart squeeze in more ways than you could count. You gave her a kind smile as she stopped in front of you. 

“Neytiri, oel ngati kameie,” you spoke, slipping into the Na’vi language she was comfortable with. You formally greeted her, fingers to your forehead. “It is good to see you again. You have grown well.” 

“Thank you, y/n,” she responded, returning the gesture. “You have grown as well. Jake tells me you have a child?” 

You nodded, a smile gracing your lips. Nothing brought you more joy than talking about your son. “Yes. My son, Miles.”

You reached into your pocket and retrieved a picture of him. You’d taken after your partner in the practice of carrying real pictures—at least ones of your son. Your and Miles’ relationship had been rocky lately. The two of you hardly spoke unless it was about your baby. Thus, no pictures of him.

In the picture you held, little Miles was lying on the floor, caught in the middle of an adorable laugh. His eyes sparkled, and he gave his cute, gummy smile, holding one of his feet in tiny hands. You missed him so desperately at this moment that it nearly killed you. Forcing yourself not to wallow in it, you handed the picture over to Neytiri. 

She took it gently, sensing how precious it was, and scanned over the photo. Though her face remained mostly impassive, you swore you saw the corner of her lips twitch up. Just for a moment. Then she was handing the photo back, nodding as you slid it back into your pocket. 

“He looks like you,” she said, making you smile. Your little boy taking after you… what a sweet sentiment. 

You decided it was best not to mention your child’s father, considering his relationship with the indigenous. His relationship with you wasn’t faring that well, either. It was better not to bring him up at all right now. Besides, this was a happy moment; a nice reunion. No need to taint it with your own personal issues. 

“Has Jake been a good student?” You asked, moving away from the topic of your family. 

Neytiri tilted her head slightly, thinking. “He is stubborn, but committed to learning.” 

You laughed lightly. “That sounds like him.” 

Jake had very quickly become your friend. Seeing him grow so much in such a short amount of time was a privilege. He was truly becoming one of the People—gaining a love for the forest and for Eywa. Not to mention the way he talked about Neytiri, or the look in her eyes as she spoke of him now. It wasn’t your place to comment on it, but you weren’t oblivious. You sensed he might be falling for more than this way of life. 

Neytiri was called over by her mother, then—Mo’at. The girl bid you farewell, even giving a fond smile as she went. It lifted your spirits, considering how the two of you had left things. This entire situation felt like a breath of fresh air. It was so wonderful that it was almost enough to make you forget about your personal issues.

Almost. 

You returned to Grace and spent the rest of the afternoon with her and the children. They played with your hair and clothes, took turns looking at the picture of little Miles, and practiced English with you. They all had such sweet, pure spirits. Untainted by the war that raged in their home. 

They knew nothing of the danger the humans presented—the destruction they’d already caused. The lives they’d taken. All they knew was love, for everything and everyone around them. 

You returned to base not long after, putting up your Avatar body and breaking the link. When you got back to your room, exhausted beyond belief, all you wanted to do was hold your baby and go to bed. But every single light was turned off—not how you’d left it. The entire place was completely silent. It instantly set you on edge.

“Hello?” You called, pulse picking up. Though you didn’t think there was any danger here in the base, your maternal instincts told you to explore every possibility. You’d die before you let anything happen to your son. 

“I’m in the kitchen!” Miles yelled back, and you felt a sigh of relief leave your lips. No danger. Just your slightly estranged fiancé. 

“Is little Miles asleep? I wanted to see him for a minute before I went to bed,” you spoke, kicking off your shoes. The two of you had avoided having any sort of real conversation, and you assumed you’d just continue that pattern tonight. God, you were so tired. 

“Yeah, I put him down a bit ago,” he responded, making your heart sink. You began walking towards your bedroom as he spoke again. “Could you actually come here first? I got something for ya.” 

His words gave you pause, and you sent a questioning glance in the direction of the kitchen. This wasn't part of the ‘no talking’ policy you two had going on. You were supposed to go to bed without another word, and once you were asleep, he’d follow suit. Then, when you woke up to your child crying for you, he’d already be gone. Lather, rinse, repeat. 

You went to the kitchen, deciding it was too immature to pretend you didn’t hear him and go to bed anyway. Even if that seemed like the easier option, you needed to be the bigger person. 

Stepping through the doorway to the kitchen, you froze in your tracks. 

The lights being off was intentional, allowing the lit candles on the table to bathe the room in a warm glow. Said table was decorated with a cheesy tablecloth neither of you would ever allow in the house, and two plates of steaming food and full glasses of wine were set on it. On the counter was a platter of cheesecake, topped with a native Pandoran fruit you liked. And the cherry on top of it all was Miles, standing next to the table in one of his nice shirts and dark pants. He watched you with nervous eyes. 

You blinked several times, feeling entirely out of sorts. “What… is this?” 

“I thought-” he chuckled breathily, scratching at the back of his neck. Realization bloomed in your gut. Was he embarrassed? “Shit. I thought it might be nice if we got a reminder that we love each other. Feels like we’ve forgotten lately.” 

Swallowing, you fought the urge to break eye contact. “Miles…” 

“I know, I know,” he held his hands up before you could continue. “This is cheesy and stupid. But- fuck, darlin’. We’ve barely said three sentences to each other in the last week. And I can’t keep going on like this. I won’t. I feel like you’re slipping away, and I won’t let that happen.” 

You were going to cry. You could feel it brewing inside you. All the pent-up emotion, the things you’d been struggling with, it was all rushing to the surface. You clenched and unclenched your fists. Took a moment to try to center yourself. 

“So, what? You make a romantic dinner, and suddenly everything’s fixed? It’s back to sunshine and rainbows and everything good?” You asked, hating how ragged your voice sounded. 

“No. No. I know this ain’t a fix. It’s not- it’s a peace offering. A start,” Miles responded, coming to stand in front of you. “I love you. You’re the mother of my kid, and I’m going to marry you. I know you’ve been upset at me for a while, and we’ve both been too prideful to sit down and work it out. But that stops now. No more running.” 

When you didn’t respond, just kept your eyes on him, he spoke again. “I still see something here worth fighting for. Do you?” 

That was it—the breaking point. You burst into tears, burying your face in his chest as sobs wracked your body. His arms were immediately around you, strong and comforting. One hand came up to stroke your hair. You wrapped your arms around him, taking fistfuls of his shirt. 

“Oh, baby,” he murmured, soft and sweet. “I’m so sorry, my girl. I’m sorry.” 

You’d missed him. God, you’d missed him so much. Talking to him, being held by him, having him near you. Your pride—your anger—had blinded you. Caused you to lose sight of what mattered most. Him, your son, the family you had together. 

Pulling away to look up at him, you attempted to pull yourself together. Your face was soaked with tears, nose runny and chin trembling. A terrible sight, you were sure. But Miles looked at you with nothing but compassion; love and sorrow battled in his eyes. He cupped your cheek, wiping away some of the wetness with his thumb. 

“You still want me?” You asked, sniffing. “Even with how terrible I’ve been?” 

“I will never, ever, not want you,” he vowed, almost smiling. “And leave some of the blame for me, okay? We both’ve been shitty.” 

You let out a short laugh, shaking your head. “God, you’re lucky I love you.” 

“I sure am,” Miles chuckled. “Now, do you want some apology dinner? We can talk this out while we eat. With alcohol, of course.” 

Already feeling a weight off your chest, you gave him a nod as you wiped your face. “I think that sounds wonderful.” 

“Come on, then, my love,” he teased, offering a hand. “It’s time to communicate like healthy, balanced adults.” 

The two of you moved to the table, making jokes as you dug into the meal he’d prepared. It was clear how much thought and care he’d put into it, and it made your heart soar. Not long ago, you’d been sure it was over for you two. You were convinced the final straw had been laid, and you were ready to run. But as you watched him eat the food he’d prepared, talking about how you could get your relationship back on track, you’d never been so happy to be wrong. 

Miles reached into his pocket, thumbing at the wrinkled photo of you he always kept. Though a bit worn and in need of replacement, it was something he treasured greatly. A reprieve when the two of you were apart; a reminder of what he had to keep him going. When your son was born, he’d need to start carrying one of the two of you. 

“You alright, Colonel?” Lyle’s voice piped up then, breaking him out of his internal monologue. The man looked back at his subordinate, raising an eyebrow. “You seem a little distracted.” 

“I’m fine,” he responded, breaking eye contact and continuing to lead his team through the forest. This goddamn humidity was going to be the death of him, he swore it. 

“You thinking about y/n?” Wainfleet continued the conversation despite Miles’ remark, and the leader rolled his eyes. “Thinking about the baby?” 

“It’s none of your damn business what I’m thinking about.” 

“Well, I just assumed, y’know- it’s what I’m thinking about.”

Miles whirled back on the man. “Why the hell are you thinking about my girlfriend and unborn son?” 

The Corporal raised his hands in surrender, giving an almost-nervous smile. “Easy there, I’m not stepping in on your family or anything. I’m just a friend excited for the new bundle of joy.” 

He felt his brows furrow, even after the placating words from his teammate. He pressed his lips into a thin line. 

“Plus, I’m nervous about being an uncle,” the bald douchebag added. 

“Excuse me?” Miles rested his hands on his hips, giving his right-hand man a disbelieving look. “Run that by me one more time.”

“What? That I’m the baby’s honorary uncle?” Lyle shrugged, as if this were common knowledge. “Did you not know that?” 

Miles was already out of his depth with this—with having a family at all or letting the people he worked with know such personal things. Never in his life had he thought he’d be where he was now, with a child on the way and co-workers ready to be a part of the kid’s life. He was facing all of this for the first time, and he would be lying if he said it wasn’t scary. Not just for him, either. You had shown time and time again how scared you were.

Both of you were facing new things, and all you had was each other to help get through it. 

“Who told you that you get to be some bullshit uncle?” Miles asked him, raising an eyebrow. 

“Obviously, I’m going to be the uncle. You and y/n don’t have any family, and I’m your best friend. Like hell I’m not getting in on this baby business. I’m gonna spoil the shit out of him.” 

“You think you’re my best friend?” 

Lyle gasped like he’d been physically assaulted and held a hand to his chest. “You did not just say that to me, Colonel. Not after all we’ve been through. Of course I’m your best friend.” 

Miles rolled his eyes, even as a smile tugged at his lips. He opened his mouth to speak. 

“Jesus, will you two just kiss and make up?” Zdinarsik interrupted, stepping up to where the two men were standing. She gave a deadpan look to both of them. “He’s as close to a best friend as you’re capable of having, and he’s going to be the baby’s uncle. We’re all going to be in that baby’s life and love him, because he’s the closest any of us will ever have to kids of our own.” 

The rest of the team grunted their agreement, showing unanimous support. It momentarily blew Miles away. Somehow, through all this chaos, he’d gotten himself a family. Not one through blood, but something much stronger. If he were a crier, he might’ve shed a tear. 

“Colonel, come in. This is the General. Do you read?” 

The sudden message crackling over his comm broke the tender moment, and he pressed a finger to it to send his response. “I read you, over.” 

“Colonel, I’ve just been informed that Doctor y/l/n has gone into labor. Doctor Augustine demanded we contact you and tell you.” 

The second the words registered, Miles felt his blood run cold. He’d felt it in his gut when he first took this mission. He knew something would happen. But you, with your calm demeanor, had talked his worries away. You’d convinced him it would all be okay. 

Damn him for actually listening. 

“Permission to halt the mission and return to base, Sir?” He asked, though he knew nothing would stop him from getting back to you and the kid. 

“Permission granted. Have the rest of the team continue without you. And Colonel? Congratulations.” 

He smiled, ignoring the anxiety twisting his gut into knots. “Thank you, General.” 

“Is the baby coming?” Lyle asked as Miles turned back to the group, eyes wide and concerned. 

The Colonel nodded. “Y/n’s just gone into labor. I’m heading back to be with them. The rest of you are ordered to continue with the mission.” 

“Fuck that, I’m coming with you,” the Corporal was quick to shoot back, holstering his gun. “I gotta be there when that little guy comes into the World.” 

“And you’re willing to disobey an order from your General?” 

“We’ll just say we didn’t trust Wainfleet to lead the mission and will wait to circle back to it,” Zdinarsk piped up then, resting her own rifle on her hip. One glance at the other soldiers told Miles none of them were planning to stay. 

Miles nodded, smiling slightly. “Alright, then. Let’s roll out.” 

You

You were in labor. Had been for the last several hours, honestly, but you were in denial. Sure, you’d lost your mucus plug early this morning, and the contractions were becoming more and more frequent, but you could wait. You had to wait. Miles wasn’t due back for another day or two, which meant you absolutely could not have this baby now. 

So you were ignoring it and trying your hardest to focus on the work in front of you. 

Another contraction came on then. You hunched over your desk with gritted teeth as you fought to stay quiet. Drawing attention to yourself would mean you’d be urged to go to the infirmary, and that was out of the question. You silently pleaded to any god out there to grant you mercy, and to your son to just hold on a bit longer. Both prayers went unanswered. 

Getting to your feet, you decided to try a bit of exercise. Maybe stretching your legs would help keep everything together. 

You made it about two feet before you came to a halt, liquid gushing down your legs and leaving you standing in a puddle. A gasp left your lips as you looked down, peering over your stomach at the mess. Shit.

“Did you just piss yourself?” One of the lab assistants asked. You weren’t sure which one. 

“Her water broke, dumbass!” Another one responded, identity also unknown. 

“What the hell?” You knew that voice for sure. Grace. You watched her familiar shoes come into view as she moved to stand in front of you. “Why didn’t you say anything sooner? How far apart are your contractions?” 

“I-I can’t-” you murmured, eyes still glued to the ground. You were in enough pain to keel over, but the fear running like ice in your veins kept you standing. This baby could not come out now. Miles wasn’t here; he needed to be here. 

“Y/n, look at me,” your superior snapped, grabbing your chin and jerking your face up so you were looking at her. Her expression was stern, but worry and affection shone in her eyes. “This baby is coming now, whether you like it or not. There’s no fighting it.” 

“No, Grace, you don’t understand,” you pleaded, wrapping a hand around her forearm. The touch did wonders in making you feel grounded. “I can’t have him right now. Miles is out on a mission. He’s not here. I can’t do it without him.” 

“If you try to keep this from happening, there’s no telling what will happen to you or your baby,” she continued her attempt to convince you. “I know you want your guy here, but you need to think of your safety and this child’s safety.” “Please,” you were crying now—you could feel the tears slipping down your cheeks. You weren’t sure exactly when that had started. “I need him for this. Please, just help me get through it until he’s back.” “He isn’t supposed to be back for a couple of days. If you wait that long, you’ll lose the baby,” Grace spoke softly, but her voice didn’t lack any of her usual conviction. “You could die, yourself. Do you want him to get back and have to mourn you both?” 

Her words made sense to you. At least to the rational part of you. Unfortunately, she wasn’t in charge right now. You were driven by fear, pain, and longing. The thought of doing any of this without Miles was terrifying.

You took a shuddering breath, squeezing your eyes shut as another contraction hit you. “I’m not… having this baby today.” 

“I’m not giving you a choice, y/n,” Grace told you, before turning her attention to the other people in the lab. “You! Get me a wheelchair from the infirmary and let them know y/n’s in labor.”

You heard shuffling footsteps, then she spoke again. “And you, go to the General and have them send a message to Colonel Quaritch. He needs to know the baby’s coming.” 

More scrambling sounded as the others moved to do the Doctor’s bidding. You bit your lip and looked back up at her, feeling too hot and clammy under the bright fluorescents. 

“Thank you,” you whispered, and she gave a soft smile. 

An assistant returned with a wheelchair just then, and you were helped into it. You worked on taking deep breaths all the way back to the infirmary. Grace stayed glued to your side, and you swore you could’ve kissed her. She was a saint sent to help you through all this bullshit. 

Not that giving birth to your son was bullshit. You already loved him so much—you were so excited to meet him. 

The bullshit was the pain you’d have to endure. The fear of doing it alone, and of what would come after. You had no idea how to be a parent. It scared you shitless. Like most things did these days. 

A couple of nurses helped you into one of the beds, and Grace stayed where you could see her the whole time. They got you comfortable, checked your vitals, and did their best to ease your worries. All you could think about was how to delay this. You needed Miles here. This wasn’t something you could do alone. 

“He’ll be here as soon as he can, y/n. They reached out to him. I’m sure he’s coming as quickly as possible,” Grace spoke from beside you, as if she could read your mind. 

You looked over at her, giving a grateful smile. “I know, I know. I’m just- ugh, I’m scared.” 

“I’d be surprised if you weren’t,” she teased, which earned a laugh. “But think of how amazing it will be. This kid is going to be so loved, he won’t know what to do with himself. And what an amazing event it is for him to be the first Pandoran human. You’re making history, and you’ll make it every day raising him. You’ll be amazing at it.” 

Your eyes filled with tears, and you let out a breathy chuckle as you wiped them away. “When did you become such a sap?” 

Grace rolled her eyes, face full of tenderness. “Being around a pregnant woman for so long is doing something to me, I think.” 

You giggled. “I love you. Thank you for being here.” 

“Of course,” she responded, then paused for a moment. “I love you too.” 

“Oh my God, you have gone full softie!” You joked. 

“I’m not above hitting a pregnant woman, y/n.” “Okay, okay. Your secret is safe with me, then.” 

Three and a half hours later, the Doctor told you that it was time to start pushing. You, of course, declined. There was no sign of Miles yet. You’d hold on a bit longer—just until he was back. Once he was here, the baby could come. That wasn’t an outrageous request to make, right?

“Y/n, you have to push. You can’t just hold the kid in,” Grace coaxed, holding tightly onto your hand. 

“No, no,” you gasped, tears streaming down your cheeks. You could hardly breathe. The pain was enough to make your vision blur. “I h-have to wait for Miles. He needs to be here for this. I’m not ready.” 

“The longer you avoid this, the more danger your child is in,” The Doctor spoke up, sitting at the end of the bed. 

“I can’t!” You grit out, a sob tearing through your throat. “I can’t do this without him. Please. We have to wait.” 

“Y/n, I know you’re scared. Believe me, I would be too,” Your friend told you, smoothing your sweat-soaked hair back. “But you’re strong. One of the strongest people I know. You can do this.” 

“I don’t know how to be a parent! I don’t know how to do any of this. You don’t understand,” you shook your head, squeezing your eyes shut. “What if I’m terrible at it? Or what if something happens to Miles on a mission? What if he dies and I’m alone? I can’t do this alone. I can’t. Grace, I’m not fit to be a mother.” 

“Stop it. Don’t talk like that. Just breathe, alright? Take some breaths.” 

At her request, you did your best to follow instructions. Your breaths were shaky and hiccupped, but breaths nonetheless. You kept a grip on her hand, eyes glued to her face. 

“You know none of that is true. You’re an incredible person, and you’ll be a great mother. You’ve always been good at taking care of others, and that won’t change now. This little boy is lucking out in the mother category. You’re scared, and your mind is jumping to the worst-case scenario. That’s all this is.” 

“You don’t know that,” you whimpered, barely audible. 

“I do know that. I’ve known you for years.” 

“How can you be so sure?” 

“Have you ever known me to not be sure about something?” Grace raised an eyebrow. 

You bit your lip. “No. I guess not.” 

“So get your shit together and have this baby,” she demanded. “You’re ready for it.” 

“You’re right. Damn it, you’re right,” you took a deep breath, sniffling. “When Miles gets here, I’m kicking his ass for not being here.” 

Grace grinned, squeezing your hand. “That’s my girl.” 

Miles

The time it took to get back to base was insufferable. It felt like the longest trip he’d ever taken in his life. The moment they were back in the hangar, he was shoving out of the vehicle and running towards the infirmary. He heard the shuffle of his team following him, but it hardly registered as he raced through the halls. You were the only thing on his mind right now. 

Miles rounded a corner and burst through the infirmary doors, shouting for directions at the first person he saw. He followed the person’s shaky, pointed finger to the room at the end of the hall. His palms were clammy, and his forehead was sheened with sweat, and he could hardly breathe. He had no idea he could feel this nervous—not with anything. 

He could face war or aliens and not even flinch, but just the thought of seeing his newborn child had his knees buckling. 

He peeked into the room, almost scared to make himself known. Behind him, the scuffle of boots against the tile announced his companions’ arrival. 

And there you were. Curled up in the bed, exhaustion radiating off you, but the bright smile on your face put it to shame. Miles could just barely see a tuft of curly brown hair on a pink little head, bundled up and held so carefully in your arms. He felt his heart lurch and took a step forward without meaning to. Your eyes immediately flitted to the doorway, and he watched the glee overtake your expression. 

“I came as soon as I could, darlin’. I’m so sorry I missed it,” he murmured, taking a seat next to the bed. 

“It’s okay, I know. I know you would’ve been here if you could,” you explained, quiet and tender. God, he loved you so much. You tilted your head towards the baby. “You want to hold him?” 

“If that’s alright,” Miles shifted in his seat, holding his arms out. 

“Of course it is. Here,” you gently handed the baby over, helping your boyfriend get him situated. “Meet Miles.” 

His head snapped up, meeting your gaze. He felt a lump form in his throat, and attempted to swallow it before speaking. “Miles?”

You smiled at him, beautiful and sweet and perfect. One tired, shaky hand reached up to cup his cheek. “After his father.” 

“Oh my God, I’m gonna cry,” Lyle’s voice floated over to him, and he looked over to see his team crowded in the doorway. They all had that heart-melted look people get around babies on their faces.

“What the hell are you all doing?” He snapped, keeping quiet so as not to disturb the sleeping baby. “Get out.” 

“We want to see the baby!” “You can see him later. He and y/n need time to rest. Get out.” 

The team grumbled as y/n tried to stifle a laugh, but all obeyed and shuffled back down the hall. Miles turned back at the love of his life, smiling at your joyous expression. He looked down at the baby—all soft and fresh and sleeping peacefully. A cute little thing, his lips puckered the slightest bit as he dreamt. The man never would’ve guessed how much love he could have for such a tiny creature. 

He met your gaze again, eyes misty. “You really named him after me?” 

“I did,” you responded, brushing a finger along the baby’s cheek. He leaned into the touch, craving his mother even in sleep. “Because you’re a great man, and you’ll be a wonderful father.” 

“You sure it’s not just because you were too out of it to pick a different name?” He teased, attempting to diffuse the moment so he wouldn’t cry. He felt like he was already on the brink. 

You smiled, rolling your eyes. “Yeah, maybe that too.” 

Miles chuckled, shaking his head and looking back at little Miles. He couldn’t get enough. If he had the opportunity, he’d probably spend the rest of his life just staring at this squishy little face. He’d never been a baby or kid person, but now seemed to have done a complete 180. He was completely enamored. 

“Damn. He’s a cute little thing, ain’t he?” 

“Oh my God, yes,” you exclaimed, looking like he’d just spoken directly to your soul. It made the man smile. “He’s addicting. I never want to let him go. And have you smelled him? He’s got this amazing baby smell that, I swear, is like literal crack.” 

“Can’t say I’ve sniffed my son yet, no,” he responded, more than a little perturbed. 

“Do it,” you urged, eyes sparkling. “Smell him.” 

“Jesus, woman, what drugs do they have you on?” Miles chuckled, even as he leaned down to press his nose to the small head. He inhaled deeply and froze. 

You were right. The smell—it was intoxicating. He found himself taking another whiff without even meaning to. 

“Alright, I see your point now,” Miles acquiesced, leaning back. 

“I knew you would. Don’t ever doubt me again,” you slumped against the pillows, weariness evident in every part of you. He wondered how hard the labor was on you and felt guilt rise over not being here. 

“How was the delivery?” He asked, ever so slightly rocking little Miles. 

“Ah, it was so fun,” you deadpanned, the sarcasm evident on your face. You sent him a mix of a grimace and a smile. “There weren’t any complications or anything, but it took a lot out of me. He’s a big baby. And I…”

You trailed off, fiddling with your fingers in your lap. After another moment or two of silence, you took a deep breath and met his eyes. “I kept refusing to push. I didn’t want to- I wanted you to be here.” 

Miles felt a piece of his heart crumble, and he furrowed his brows. “Oh, honey.” 

“It’s okay, though,” you were quick to speak up, putting a smile on your face. “Grace talked me through it, and our baby was born perfect and healthy. I was just- I don’t know. Scared to do it alone.” 

“I understand, and I’m so sorry. I would’ve done anything to be here with you.” If Miles weren’t so scared of dropping the baby, he would’ve grabbed your hand. Instead, he just tried to show his support through his face. “But I promise, from now on, I’m going to be here. Every step of the way. Nothing will keep me from you.” 

The smile on your face was enough to rival the sun. The man couldn’t believe how lucky he was. He had the perfect woman by his side, who’d given him a beautiful child and a life so full of love. He never thought he’d get to be like this. Didn’t think it happened to people like him. That just made him all the more determined to protect it. 

“Miles?” You asked, voice like the sweetest melody.

“Yeah, baby?” 

Your response was quick—sure. But the words made his entire world flip on its axis. He felt his heart race as you spoke three perfect little words. “I’ll marry you.” 

Two Years, Four Months

You

‘Little Miles’, as you and your partner had affectionately begun to call your son, was two months old. The two of you were completely in love with him and every little thing he did. He loved to smile, look around at everything, and reach his arms up, tiny fists balling and opening again. 

After taking some time off to recuperate, you brought him to work with you every day. He stayed bundled in a wrap, clinging to your chest and sleeping more often than not. Having him close brought you immense peace of mind. 

He was universally loved by everyone and had more visitors than you’d ever had in your life. Miles stopped by the lab every chance he got—to see you and the baby. Lyle almost always came traipsing in after him. The self-proclaimed uncle was thrilled to have the little boy around and was surprisingly good at handling him. On the other end was Grace, who pretended not to care about the kid but somehow kept ending up holding him. 

Your son was so, so adored, and you could not have been more thrilled. 

Currently, you were kneeling on the floor in the room you and your family shared, cooing down at your little boy. He was lying on his back and looking up, giving you that adorable gummy smile and reaching for you. He had the sweetest, warmest brown eyes and chubby little cheeks. His head, covered in brown curls, bobbed excitedly as he watched you. You laughed at his excitement, lightly poking his stomach. 

“And who is the cutest thing in the world? Huh?” You asked, holding onto the sides of his tiny little torso. “That’s right, you are! My cute little man. You’re so handsome, Miles y/l/n.” 

“Y/l/n? Ain’t it Quaritch?” Miles (the grown one) spoke from the doorway, where he watched the two of you with a smile. 

You looked over at him, shaking your head as you picked the baby up. “Nuh-uh. He’s already got your first name, he’s keeping my last name. I gotta be represented somehow.” 

“Won’t that be weird when we’re married and both Quaritch’s?” He came and crouched down next to you, giving little Miles a soft pat on the head. 

“I won’t be a Quaritch,” you explained, and quickly continued when you saw his surprised face. “I love you, and I’m going to be your wife. But I’m not so old-fashioned that I’m taking my husband’s last name. I’m Doctor y/l/n, not Mrs. Quaritch.” 

He sighed, nodding. “Well, can’t say I’m surprised.” 

“Are you disappointed, old man?” You teased, nudging him with your shoulder. 

He chuckled, rolling his eyes. “Maybe a little. I’ll find a way to get over it.” 

“I gave you a son, I’m gonna wear a ring. I’ll be your wife. Isn’t that good enough?” 

“Maybe for some people, but I’m selfish. Especially when it comes to you.”

“Oh, believe me, I know,” you said, and he grinned at you. 

“Gimme a kiss,” Miles requested, and you were quick to lean up and press your lips to his. The kiss was tender, sweet, and over far too quickly. Your boyfriend fiance pulled away first. He cupped your cheek, smiling. “Well, should we get to this party?” 

The party he spoke of was a kind of late baby shower—something you didn’t do while pregnant because that shit was so stupid. But now that your son was born and everyone was obsessed with him, they insisted on throwing a big bash to celebrate him. You were so busy being a new mother and working that you didn’t have it in you to argue. So now you were forced to drag yourself and your newborn to a get-together with all your co-workers. Yee-fucking-haw. 

“I guess so,” you adjusted your grip on little Miles, getting to your feet. 

The two of you made your way to the party, immediately greeted by a cacophony of noise. Instinctually, you held your baby closer, gently resting a hand over his exposed, sensitive ear. The crowd was a mix of scientists, soldiers, and the select few in other careers that you’d come to befriend. It looked like you were the last ones to arrive. Embarrassing, considering you were the guests of honor. 

“Y/n! Colonel!” Lyle shouted when he caught sight of you, pushing through the people to make his way over. “It’s about time you two showed up.” 

“Sorry, I was busy playing with the little one,” you explained, glancing down at the now-sleeping baby you held. 

“Oh, I bet you were,” he chuckled, eyes already glued on little Miles. “How’s my little buddy doing? He miss Uncle Lyle?” 

“Oh, yeah, he tells us all the time,” Miles mocked. He rested a hand on his hip, the other one wrapped around your waist. 

“He would if he could, sir,” The Corporal responded, completely serious. You bit back a laugh. 

“Y/n, where the hell have you been?” Grace popped up then, butting into the conversation. “Late to your own party. Classy.” 

“And you know how much class I have, Grace.” 

“Well, that’s true.” She jerked her head back behind her, gesturing to the crowd. “Come here. There’s some people you should meet.” 

You nodded, bidding Miles goodbye with a kiss on the cheek, and followed your boss into the sea of people. Keeping your arms around your son, you didn’t shy from elbowing people who got too close. 

Grace finally led you to a more secluded area, where a few stragglers made conversation with each other. Max was there, a fellow scientist and friend. The other two men, though, you’d never seen before. One tall and lanky, the other in a wheelchair with that signature military haircut. 

“There she is! The woman of the hour,” Max greeted you with a smile, pulling you into a one-armed hug while being careful of the baby you held. 

“Hey, Max. It’s good to see you,” you told him, returning his warm greeting. 

“This is Doctor y/n y/l/n, an associate and fellow Avatar pilot. She’ll be working closely with us,” Grace explained to the two men, and you looked at them. 

“Doctor, it’s an honor to meet you,” The tall one spoke, holding out his hand. “I’ve heard great things. I look forward to working together.” 

“Thank you, you’re very kind.” You shook his hand only for a moment, then went back to holding little Miles. “It’s nice to meet you.” 

“Y/n, this is Doctor Norm Spellman. A new recruit for the Avatar mission. You remember reading over his file?” Grace asked, jogging your memory. 

“Oh, that’s right!” You exclaimed, letting the past wash over you. “Yes, I remember. I’m sorry, my mind has been very jumbled recently.” 

“Becoming a mother will do that to you,” Norm joked, waving away your apology. “No need to be sorry.” 

“And this…” Grace began, gesturing to the other man. She heaved a sigh, “Is Jake Sully. Tom’s brother. He’ll be taking over his Avatar.” 

“Nice to meet you,” Jake said, shaking your hand as well, smiling at the baby. He had a thick Australian accent that was sort of charming. “Cute kid.” 

“Thanks. I think so too,” you teased, before your face became more serious. “And I’m so sorry about your brother.” 

Jake swallowed, nodding. “It’s alright. I appreciate it.” 

“I’m glad you could be here with us. This work is wonderful.” 

“Ah, I don’t know if I’m cut out for this stuff. But I’ll try,” he chuckled. 

You patted his shoulder. “It’ll all work out, you’ll see.” 

“Hey, I was looking for you,” Miles came up then, standing behind you and snaking an arm around your waist. He smiled at the newcomers. “You makin’ friends?” 

“Hey,” you smiled at your partner, leaning into his side. “Yeah, just meeting some new co-workers.” You looked back at the two men. “Jake, Norm, this is Colonel Miles Quaritch. My fiance.” 

The men exchanged greetings and made conversation for a minute until little Miles stirred in your arms. The loudness of the room woke him, and he gave the couple of hiccups he always did before he started crying. You looked down at him, knowing you had about two minutes until a full-blown meltdown started. 

“Oh, shit, somebody’s fussy,” you interrupted, shifting him so his head rested on your chest. “I’m sorry, I gotta go take care of this. But it was nice meeting you, and I look forward to the work we do.” 

“Yes, nice to meet you. Thanks for coming to our little shindig,” Miles added, and then the two of you were off. 

“Hey, you think if we play our cards right, we can use Miles to get us out of this party and have an early night?” You muttered to him as you bee-lined for the exit. 

His arm still held your waist, and he leaned down to murmur his response in your ear. “Darling, I think that’s the best idea you've ever had.”