#nslb

           Lo’ak turns to his older sister, glaring. When he sees her staring back and not faltering, he sighs and raises his hands in defeat.

           “She was going to tell mom if I didn’t bring her with us.”

           Lo’ak defends himself, to which Tuk replies by sticking her tongue out at him. Y/N rolls her eyes and shakes her head at her siblings’ antics, and she nudges her head forward, indulging her brother into leading the way. She holds her bow and an arrow in one hand, and her ears twitch with even the littlest of noises in the forest. She knows there might be Sky People camps here, and she remembers her father’s words to keep her siblings safe. She was the older sister, barely a few minutes older than Neteyam, and she understood the responsibility she had over her younger siblings. And she does not want to disappoint her parents, nor does she want to lose their trust in her.

           “Bro!” Y/N hears Spider say, and she shakes her head. “That’s where your dad and my dad fought.”

           Y/N frowns, and she silently walk closer to peer through the large leaves in front of her. There is an old trailer there, grey and rusty with a window busted, covered with vines and moss from being left untouched or operated for so long. There is a large machine laying on the ground, where she can see two of her mother’s arrows, and Y/N knows that this is where her father’s old enemy, the Colonel Quarrich, died during the war against the Sky People.

           What she does not expect, however, is to hear voices. Several of them, both feminine and masculine. Tuk shifts in front of her, and Y/N rests a gentle hand on her little sister’s shoulder to keep her calm. She squints her eyes, and she sees them. A group of uniltìranyu:, avatars controlled by Sky People. She takes a step back and brings Tuktirey with her when she notices their weapons. She then glances at Lo’ak, who seems to be a step ahead of her, as he talks to someone whom she can only guess to be her father. She looks over her shoulder when someone taps behind her back, and she smiles at Kiri when she offers her an earpiece to listen to their father’s words.

           “I’ve got eyes on some guys.” Lo’ak explains. “They look like avatars but they’re in full camo and carrying AR’s. There are six of them. Over.”

           “What’s your position?” Jake answers through the earpiece. “Over.”

           “We are at the old shack.”

           “Who’s ‘we’?”

           “Me, Spider, Kiri, Y/N.” Lo’ak pauses and glances at Tuktirey. “And Tuk.”

           There is a brief pause, and Y/N can clearly picture her father’s face upon hearing that Tuk is with them at the old shack. She imagines her mother is with him, and she does not want to think about what she might think of the whole situation. And if she knows her twin, she knows Neteyam is with them, and he can hear the whole conversation too. She sighs and closes her eyes, before she hears her father’s voice once more through the earpiece.

           “Son, you listen to me very carefully.” Jake says. “Pull back right now. Do not make a sound. Get the hell out of there. Move, copy?”

           “Yes sir, moving out.”

           Lo’ak answers, and begins to walk backward. Y/N follows and pulls Tuk with her when she knows Kiri and Spider are following behind. She can picture the looks her parents must have been given each other upon hearing their children’s location, brows furrowed and lips into a thin line. She wonders if they’ll get angry at her, for not stopping Lo’ak from executing his stupid ideas, and she knows that if they do get angry, she’ll take the blame for her brother’s actions. Because that is what she and Neteyam always did, take the blame for Lo’ak’s recklessness.

           “You’re going to be in so much trouble.”

           Kiri whispers as the little group walks through the forest, walking over a lump of tree laying in their way. Y/N turns and glares at her sister, shaking her head.

           “Kiri, stop.” She says, sternly.

           “It’s almost eclipse, come on.”

           Tuk says to her siblings, and Y/N barely has time to say anything before Tuk screams when someone jumps from behind some large bushes and grabs her little sister. She curses and hisses, preparing to aim her arrow at the avatar holding her sister, and she sees Spider doing the same when another avatar in full camp grabbed Kiri by her hair. Though, she doesn’t have the time to shoot her arrow, as she is yanked back by someone grabbing onto her queue, sending a sharp pain through her skull. Her bow and arrow fall from her grip, and she curses again, before looking at her siblings.

           “Y/N!” Tuk calls out for her. “Y/N!”

           “Mawey.” Y/N says, but she does not know if it is more for herself, or for her siblings. “Mawey.”

           She wants to reach for her baby sister, but Y/N is held back by an avatar holding onto her arms behind her back as she falls to her knees. She sees Tuk is trying to hold back her tears next to Kiri who struggles to stay put in the avatar’s grip holding her down. Lo’ak grunts and hisses from where he stands in front of her, held back by a third avatar, and Spider is the only one who remains on his feet, held back by a fourth avatar holding onto his upper arms.

           “What have we here?”

           Y/N glances up, and she sees him, the leader of this avatar party. He holds his weapon as if ready to load it up and fire, but she knows he won’t shoot. She can see in his eyes that he already has an idea of who they are, and she waits expectantly. His eyes lands on the five of them, and he throws his weapon behind his back. He turns when someone calls for him, and Y/N’s eyes follow his movements until they land on Kiri. The avatar holding her has her hand in his, showing her fingers to his leader. Y/N hisses, baring her fangs as the soldier approaches her sister. She struggles to get free, but another tug at her queue stops her from moving further, the pain running sharp through her skull.

           “Look, Colonel.” The avatar holding Kiri speaks. “Check it out. Four fingers. We have a half-breed.”

           Y/N hears Spider mumbles a whispered shit, but her eyes are solely on her sister. She promised her father she would look after them, and she doesn’t care that those avatars are armed with lethal weapons. If they so much as lay a hand on Kiri, or Tuk, she will not hesitate to draw blood. Sully’s stick together, as her father always says, and she intends to keep it that way.

           The Colonel looks at Kiri, before he turns around and points at Lo’ak. Y/N glances his way, and silently she pleads him not to do anything stupid.

           “Show me your fingers.” The Colonel says.

           Y/N shakes her head slowly, but the avatar holding her tightens his grip on her queue and hair, making her hiss in pain. Tears linger at her waterline from the pain, but she can see Lo’ak glaring at the Colonel whilst flipping him off by showing him both his middle fingers. The Colonel only chuckles at that, and he slightly tilts his head to the side, keeping his eyes on her brother.

           “You’re his, aren’t you?” He asks, almost playfully.

           Y/N knows then that this avatar knows who they are, and who their father is. She wants to glance over her shoulder, because she knows the old shack is not far, and suddenly it all makes sense. The Colonel is Colonel Quaritch, the one their father fought against during the war with the Sky People. How he came back as an avatar, Y/N has no idea, but she knows one thing. She has to protect her siblings, no matter what. She hears Lo’ak hiss at the Colonel, and she forces her eyes back onto her siblings.

           “You’re his alright.”

           The Colonel states, smiling, before his smile falters and he grabs Lo’ak by the hair.

           “Get your hands off of him, you bastard!”

           Y/N shouts, her words venomous as she spits them out, but the Colonel doesn’t spare her a single glance, amused by how Lo’ak struggles and grunts in his grip.

           “Where is he?”

           The Colonel asks Lo’ak, to which he answers in Na’vi. Y/N doesn’t expect the soldier to understand her brother’s words, but when he speaks back in their tongue, she bites back another remark, sending daggers through his skull. She cannot stand to see her siblings struggle, and when Lo’ak lets out a pained hiss, her heart breaks in its cage. She wants to do something, but the grip on her hair and queue is too strong and too painful that even the slightest move sends a jolt through her skull.

           “Really? You wanna play it this way?”

           Y/N hears the Colonel says, and when she looks up, he has drawn a knife from somewhere, holding it threateningly above her brother. She reaches forward and grunts against the avatar’s grip on her, as Lo’ak is sent tumbling backward by the Colonel. He looms threateningly towards Kiri, who is held on her feet by the avatar gripping her arms. Y/N struggles further to break free, trashing in the avatar’s grip on her. She doesn’t care about the pain anymore; all she cares about is that her siblings remain safe. She doesn’t care if she ends up being hurt in the process. Spider struggles besides her as he yells for the Colonel not to hurt Kiri, and it seems that it is the first time he notices him.

           He looks out of place, a human child amongst Na’vi children, with his mask that helps him breathe the Pandoran air of the planet, and his blue stripes painted on his body to resemble those of the Omaticaya people. There is a discussion between them, to which Y/N pays no mind. She is solely focused on the well-being of her siblings. Her eyes fall on each of them, and when they land on Kiri, the younger girl can see the determination in her sister’s eyes. Kiri mutters softly, pleading her sister not to do anything rash.

           “You can’t put babies in cryo, dip shit.”

           Y/N hears Spider says, and she spares a glance his way. She wonders what has the Colonel baffled, and then, she remembers. The Colonel, in his human form, is Spider’s father. At the realization, she seethes and hisses, which makes the Colonel turns to her. He tilts his head, and, as he looks at her, he remembers about the determination he sees in her eyes. It’s the same one he remembers from when his human form fought against her father at the old shack. Y/N feels small under his stare, but she does not back down from her fierce posture. Instead, she spits at his feet, and he raises a brow, amused. Her glaring daggers at him doesn’t do anything to him, and instead he scoffs and walks around, saying things that Y/N doesn’t bother to listen to.

           “Y/N!”

           She hears Tuk’s voice, and her ears perk up. Before she has time to look for her sister, Y/N is yanked upwards by the avatar holding her, and the party begins to walk further into the forest. She knows they have become baits for their father to come for them. She doesn’t doubt he will, but she hopes she can do something before he has to end up dead or captured by Quaritch.

         Jake wakes up before Neytiri, alerted by the sound of a wooden bowl falling to the ground, and he has to adjust his golden eyes to the darkness, blinking several times before he can see a struggling silhouette wandering around and tripping on their feet. He is quick to stand up, when he realises it is his eldest son, and he reaches for him, gently dragging him outside the tent so that he can fully see him under the lights of the stars and moon across the pitch black eclipse sky. Neytiri is woken up at the same time by the commotion, and she is up in an instant, watching as her mate and eldest son disappear outside. She glances down at her other children, all fast asleep on their mat, before she follows Jake and Neteyam outside.

          Neteyam’s eyes are frantic, looking everywhere but to his father, and his body shakes with spasms as he draws shallow breaths. His lips quiver and his ears flatten against his scalp, his tail swishing mindlessly behind him and which increases the worry that settles into Jake’s mind. His firm hands hold his son’s upper arms tightly, squeezing gently to break him out of his trance. He has to repeat the gesture several times before Neteyam finally begins to calm down, breathing heavier and tears pooling at his waterline.

          Jake looks up when he hears rustling, and he sees Neytiri standing behind their son, muscle brows pulled together in a worried frown and with her arms crossed over her chest. He nods once, letting her know that he’s got this, and he glances back just as Neteyam finally looks into his father’s eyes, sweat still very much glistening on his forehead.

         “What is it Neteyam?” Jake asks, and he curses himself for the crack in his voice towards the end of his sentence. “Are you hurt?”

         Neteyam shakes his head from side to side, beaded braids clinking together, and he inhales sharply when the pain from his side spreads further into his body. It should not hurt that much; it never did in the past when either him or Y/N got hurt. It was always more of a phantom pain than anything, numbing their muscles until the other’s pain faded away. But this time it is different, he can sense it in every fibre of his body.

         “Not me.” Neteyam breathes out, looking down. “Y/N.”

Neytiri lets out a soft gasp, covering her mouth with her hand, and Jake frowns as he tries to push the worry in a back corner of his mind. He still holds his son’s arms in his hands, but his grip is softer, less tight.

         “Where?”

         Jake asks, remembering his own injuries from his time in the Marine as a human, before all of this happened to him, and he is afraid for his daughter. He knows Quaritch and his team are former military members, and he knows the Sky People because he used to be just like them, and thinking of his daughter potentially injured and in their hands... No, he does not want to think about it. She is a tough kid, she’ll make it.

         “On her side, I think...”

         Neteyam pants, freeing one arm from his father’s grip to press his hand against his abdomen, on his left side, where he senses his twin sister’s pain beginning.

         “Does it hurt anywhere else?” Jake wonders, a flicker of panic in his eyes.

         His protective instincts tell him to look at his son for any injuries, but deep down he knows he won’t see anything because Neteyam is not the one who is hurt. It is Y/N, and she is nowhere near him for him to check on her injuries.

         “N-no... but...” Neteyam’s voice pulls Jake out of his thoughts. “It has never hurt like this before, when she got hurt...”

         Neteyam begins to rub his sore side with the palm of his hand, aware that his father’s grip on him is holding him steady, and that his mother stands behind him, but all he can think about is his twin sister, and the pain he feels spreading in his body. He wonders about what is happening to her, and why it hurts him so much. He senses the fear settling in the marrow of his bones, and the panic in his mind. It isn’t him, he knows it, and he looks into his father’s eyes with a determined, yet afraid, expression.

         “We have to get her dad.” Neteyam says, more urgently. “I-I know you want to leave High Camp. Tuk, Kiri, Lo’ak, and I... we heard you talk with sa’nu. But we cannot leave Y/N behind. I won’t do that, and you can’t ask me to.”

         Jake is stiff and still for a second, his eyes are the only moving thing when he glances up at his mate, hurt hidden behind both their irises. It hurts him to know that his son, his pride and joy and the future Olo’yektan of the Omatikaya people, thought they would leave Y/N at the hands of the Sky People. It brings tears in Jake’s eyes when he sees the desperation and anguish in his son’s own golden irises, gears turning  in his mind.

         “Never once did I think about leaving your sister behind, Neteyam.” Jake states, voice cracking. “Your mother and I, we’ll go get Y/N, but we need you here, to keep an eye on your siblings, alright?”

         Neteyam shakes his head. He refuses to stay back, unable to help rescue his  twin. And Jake refuses for his son to come, perhaps out of his own fear of what they might find in Bridgehead; of how they might find their daughter there.

         Jake’s grip is firm on his son’s shoulder as he looks into his eyes, Neteyam still  shaking his head in denial.

         “You can’t ask me to stay back, dad!” Neteyam protests, pushing himself away from his father. “She’s my sister, she needs me!”

         “I know Neteyam. I know.” Jake says. “But I cannot risk having another one of my kids getting injured by the Sky People, do you understand?”

         Neteyam nods once. He does not agree with his father, but he pretends to, lowering his head in defeat whilst Jake sighs in relief. Still, Jake watches with worry in his eyes as Neteyam walks back to the tent, brushing past Neytiri whilst mumbling under his breath.  

         “Ma’Jake.”

         Neytiri calls her mate, softly, as she turns to him, and a tiny smile press her lips together in a curved line. Jake sighs and shakes his head. He knows what she is going to say, even before another word leaves her, and he runs a hand over his face in defeat. He follows behind his son’s footsteps, knowing that Neytiri follows behind too, and he sits besides Neteyam on his mat, observing him for long minutes before putting a hand over his son’s shoulder.

         “I know you are scared for your sister, ma’itan.” Jake acknowledges. “And I also know that you will not listen to me. Because I wouldn’t listen to myself either if it were my own twin back there.”

         Neteyam does not say anything. Instead, he keeps on fiddling with the feathers at the end of his arrows, making sure they are tight enough around the shaft so that they fly swiftly through the air when he’ll shoot them. He can feel his father’s presence still beside him, with his hand on his shoulder, and his ears twitch slightly as he acknowledges his mother’s footsteps getting closer to where he sits.

         It is not until Neytiri puts a gentle hand against his cheek that Neteyam looks up, golden eyes filled with tears pooling at his waterline and rolling down his cheeks when he blinks. Neytiri gasps softly, and her arms move of their own accord to embrace her son in a hug, cradling his face against her chest as she feels him cling onto her shoulders for support whilst his body begins to shake with sobs.

         “It is going to be okay, ma’itan.” Neytiri says. “Your sister has a strong heart.”

         Neteyam knows his mother’s words are true. His twin does have a strong heart. She is one of the best young warriors of their age in the clan, and she is the first one ready to lend a hand to their grandmother Mo’at when injured Na’vi return from raids or hunting parties. But knowing this does not stop the fear from settling deep in his stomach, and the panic to course his veins. He knows the panic is hers, and that the fear is both of them, and he wonders why his strong sister, the one he’s been looking up to since they were kids, suddenly seems small and fragile as the panic imprints itself into the marrow of his bones.

         He pulls away from his mother, using the palm of his hands to dry the tears that roll down his cheeks, and he takes a deep breath, lips trembling.

         “We leave at dawn, son.” Jake says, voice barely above a whisper as not to wake the rest of his family.

         Neteyam looks at his father hopefully, eyes glazed over by the unshed tears he’s kept to himself. Jake shakes his head, before he pats his son’s shoulder.

         “As I said,” he clarifies, “I know you won’t listen to me, if I ask you to stay behind and keep an eye on your siblings. So, you may come with your mother and I, but on one condition. While we deal with the Sky People, your only mission is to find your sister, alright son?”

         “Yes sir.”

         Neteyam answers with a curt nod of the head. He doesn’t smile at his father, because he knows he pushed his luck too far with Jake giving up on asking him to stay behind, but he looks up to his mother who nods approvingly. Jake sighs, and he pats his son’s head before he leads Neytiri back to their shared mat.

         When he is certain that his parents have fallen back asleep, Neteyam rises from his mat on the floor, and he walks outside to sit on the edge of the mountain where the High Camp is settled. He keeps his eyes on the horizon, two yellow orbs in the dark sky of the eclipse, and the bioluminescent freckles on his cheekbones glow softly under the stars. He breathes through slightly parted lips, allowing the tears he’s been holding back to silently roll down his cheeks as the pain on his side grows tenfold and his tail swish rapidly behind his back, thumping against the ground. He hisses, pressing his hand on the right side of his abdomen, doubling over as the pain spreads up to his torso. Itches littering his arms and legs and across his chest add on to the pain from his abdomen. It isn’t much, but the familiarity makes him hiss. He fears what he might feel later, once he finds his twin sister. He fears the state he might find Y/N in, when he accompanies his parents to Bridgehead.

         “I will find you, ma tsmuke, even if it is the last thing I do.”

         Neteyam whispers into the night, before he rises to his feet and walks back into the tent, laying down on his mat and letting the sleep consume him.

—

         Jake does not know what to expect when he steps first inside Bridgehead, Neteyam on his heels whilst Neytiri flies above on her ikran. He knows only one thing, that Quaritch is here, waiting for him; waiting for his revenge. Jake looks over his shoulder when Neteyam hisses lowly, baring his fangs as he does so, and the worry settles into the Toruk Makto’s mind. He cannot begin to fathom the bond that his eldest children share together simply because they were born twins, but he can understand the pain and the fear that Neteyam goes through. His hold around his rifle tightens, knuckles turning a lighter shade of blue, and he locks eyes with his son. He nods once, then motions towards a hallway on the left of Neteyam with his chin.

         Neteyam follows his father’s gaze past his shoulder and behind him, before he nods obediently. He straps his bow back across his torso, the string applying a familiar pressure into his skin as he moves across the hallway in which he has just disappeared into, away from his father’s lingering eyes on his running frame. He has to bend down a little, too tall to wander down a human-sized facility, but his twin sister is the only thought that keeps him going further. He has to bring her home safe; he has to. He has to be the older brother now, the one to take care of Y/N once he finds her. They may be twins, but she is sixteen minutes older than him and therefore the eldest child, always looking after her siblings and making sure all of them are loved equally and that they know it.

         She has always been the one to run head first into danger, if it meant protecting her family, and now Neteyam gets to do it. For her. He gets to be the older brother. For her. He gets to run head first into danger. For her. There is nothing on this planet or any other that he would not do for her.

         His long and nimble legs carry him as fast as they can to another hallway with less blinding lights, and he has to adjust his eyes to the unplanned darkness if he wants to read the signs hung up on the wall next to him. He gives silent thanks to Eywa when he sees the english-written words, and to his father for having taught him his native language. When he does not find what he is looking for, Neteyam grunts and his balled fist meets with the wall in anger.

         Breathing deeply, he gathers his thoughts, and he keeps on walking the same hallway he first entered until he sees more and more written signs. In the far distance, he can hear the echoes of bullets being fired, his father’s low growling and his mother’s war cries, as well as the Sky People barking orders. Guilt makes its way around his mind at the thought of his parents, and for a second he stops, turning on his heels and ready to go help them, but he wills himself around to go look for Y/N. He has to find her, but the pain growing stronger through his body makes it difficult for him to stand. The more he walks, the more his limbs grow numb, and with every step, a new painful sensation rises somewhere in his body: his arms, his thighs, his chest, his tail even, which thumps against the ground in painful movements. Those aching areas, he knows he didn’t feel them before coming here, only the pain in his abdomen, but then he realises. The itching sensations from last night; they were a phantom pain of where Y/N is injured. When he figures it out, Neteyam growls under his breath, brow muscles pulled together in a frown, and he wills his legs to carry him as fast as they can to where his twin is kept. He follows the pain, pays attention to what it is telling him. The more it hurts, the closer he gets to her. And when he can barely stand on his feet in front of metallic double doors, he knows she is hidden behind. His eyes frantically look around for a button, anything to pull the doors open, and a frustrated cry rumbles from his chest when he cannot find anything, except for the digital panel next to the doors. He takes his bow with trembling hands and readies an arrow, the poison-dipped tip resting against the wooden shaft of his weapon, and he pulls on the string until it brushes against his cheek, eyes looking through the nocking point for his aim. He counts to three, breathing deeply, before he releases the arrow into the digital panel that breaks from the force of the hit. White sparks spurt around as a crackling sound follows, and he hears the whirring of doors as they open slowly.

         Neteyam drops his bow to the floor, and he rushes inside the room, falling to his knees from the unbearable pain that settles deep into the marrow of his bones. Lips parted, pants leave him as he crawls towards her, hand out in front of him to reach out for her. When he does, when his hand finally finds that of his twin sister, he crumbles from the pain that spreads through his body, tears freely rolling down his cheeks. He tries his best to sit, cradling Y/N’s body in his arms with her head resting on his thighs. Her breath is slow, almost inaudible to a human’s ear, but his own pointed ears twitch with each shallow breath she takes. Her chest rises and falls slowly, fingers twitching ever so slightly when he intertwines one hand with hers. His eyes, usually bright and glowing, are a dull reflection of the pain, and the fear, that has made home in every fibre of his body. They scan over Y/N’s body, his breath itching with every cut and trace of dried blood he finds on her, her pain mirroring in him. He notices the white gauze wrapped around his twin’s abdomen, and on which he sees a large patch of blood on her right side, a stark contrast to the white of the bandage, and he figures it is where she has been shot, because there is no way it would hurt him this much if it were not a gunshot wound. Instinctively, he presses his hand against her side, and the crimson liquid stains his palm almost instantly.

         “Oh Eywa…” Neteyam chokes on a sob. “Please, let her be okay…”

         His head drops low, his forehead against hers as he hoists her up in his hold so that her head rests against his chest, and he can secure her in his arms. His tail thumps widely behind him, as anxiety rises to high levels within him. Alarms begin to blare and ring around him, bright red lights flickering around him as a commanding voice echoes in the speakers of the whole building, but Neteyam cannot find the strength in him to stand. His hand moves from his twin’s abdomen to rest against the side of her face, thumb brushing against her cheekbone and linking her bioluminescent freckles with one another, smearing blood across her features, but he does not care. He brings her closer to his chest, rocking their bodies back and forth as he cries into her neck, begging for her life with Eywa. He holds her close, unable to move as his heart pounds against his ribcage, breaking slowly from the pain as the beats echo in his ears. He can’t focus on anything but Y/N, his big sister, the one he looks up to. The mighty warrior, always ready to defend the People and the ones she loves. What have they done to her?

         Neteyam chokes back a sob, body shaking with the sound, and he moves his head to rest it against his sister’s chest, ear pressed against her left side to listen to her heartbeat. It is faint, and slow, but it’s there, and it’s all Neteyam needs to keep himself grounded. Every other noise around him disappears as he focuses on his twin’s heartbeat, not having any thoughts about smearing himself with her blood as he covers her whole body with his. The tears keep flowing from his eyes as he closes them, and his lips move slowly as he mumbles silent prayers to Eywa.

         It feels like hours before Neteyam even moves one limb, but it has merely been minutes. His body feels heavy with each gesture he makes, and the long-fallen tears begin to dry on his cheeks as more come to cover the tracks. His eyes find Y/N’s face, and he sees the peaceful smile hung on her lips. He believes he sees it, but it might be his imagination. He isn’t certain of what he sees; everything feels unreal, like a dream he has trouble waking up from. Her hand is limp in his, but it takes him a minute to realise it. He looks down on her, eyes frantically searching her figure as his breath hitches, getting caught up in his throat when his eyes land on Y/N’s unmoving chest. Or if it moves, he cannot see it through his blurred vision and the tears that threaten to roll down his cheeks like waterfalls again.

         “No… No. No!” Neteyam cries, bringing Y/N closer to him. “Oh Great Mother, please! Y/N. Y/N!”

         Neteyam cries, shaking his twin’s shoulders in hope that she’ll open her eyes and smile at him, but he doesn’t get anything from her except for her limp body against his. He realises then, that the pain has subsided in his body. He cannot feel anything, not even the familiar pull that connects him to Y/N; their twin bond.

         A loud, guttural cry leaves his lips, alerting his father who is looking for him in hurried steps in the hallway nearby. When Jake’s ears twitch upon hearing his son’s cries, he stills. Fear comes like a tidal wave submerging him, and his hands begin to shake. His legs carry him faster to where the screams come from, and he stops abruptly when he reaches the metallic double doors. He sees Neteyam’s bow on the floor first, and the arrow lodged into the broken digital panel. Then, his eyes look around and land on his son’s hunched back, sobs racking through his body. Jake drops his rifle to the ground, arms and hands falling limp at his sides, ears flat against his scalp. A lump grows in his throat as he takes careful, silent steps towards his son. He cannot see everything, but he knows something is wrong from the pleas of his eldest son. Unbeknownst to him, his hands begin to shake, and his heart pounds faster in his chest as fear rises up to his mind, clouding his thoughts.

         Jake steps through the doors’ threshold carefully, holding himself up with a hand against the doorframe, and his eyes lift up to his children. He can see it now, how Neteyam is holding onto Y/N, hands a lighter shade of blue from how strong his grip is on his twin sister as he shakes his head and cries out Eywa’s name between sobs. He sees how Y/N’s body is limp in her brother’s arms, how her eyes are tightly shut and how her chest barely moves. He sees the cuts and bruises littered on his daughter’s body, as well as the large gauze wrapped around her midriff where a growing patch of red becomes a stark contrast to the white bandage against her blue skin. Neteyam does not seem to notice him, even as Jake’s knees give out underneath him and he falls to the ground, his daughter’s name escaping his lips in a broken whisper.

         Jake knows the Na’vi body is more resilient than the human one, it is one of the first things he had been told when he entered the Avatar Program in his brother’s stead, after his own twin died, nearly two decades ago. And his daughter is strong, the mightiest warrior of her age in the clan. She can survive anything. But Jake is uncertain. Uncertain of how much blood loss it takes before a Na’vi dies, and judging by the wounds on Y/N’s body, he knows she has lost a lot of it. In a moment’s weakness, he glances up to the ceiling above him with tears pooling in his eyes as he prays to Eywa for his daughter to come out of this alive. His hands shake as he manages to stand, silent steps stopping near his son, before he kneels down besides Neteyam, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

         It is the first time that Neteyam acknowledges his father’s presence in the room, and he lifts his head up to glance at him through tear-filled eyes. Jake’s heart shatters at the sight, and he pulls his son close to him until his head is resting against his chest. Neteyam sobs, the sounds coming out muffled against his father’s skin, and he shakes his head in denial.

         “I can’t- I can’t feel her sempu.” Neteyam cries each word out between breathless hiccups. “H-her pain… It’s all gone!”

         Jake freezes for a second. He does not quite fully understand the bond his eldest children share together, but never once did Neteyam stop sensing Y/N’s emotions and feelings. Until today. Fear creeps back up on him, haunting his mind with the worst thoughts and almost sending his body into shock. But one of his hands falls down to his daughter’s face, palm gently pressed against the side of her face, and it pulls him out of his stupor. He blinks once, then twice, before his body fully turns towards his unconscious daughter. He moves around her, so that he stands opposite to his son, and his arms slither underneath Y/N’s limp body. His left arm settles under the curves of her knees, whilst his right one finds its way under her arms, and he lifts her up in a bridal-style way, keeping her close to him.

         It feels like hours to Jake since he managed to lose the Sky People that were pursuing him, but it has only been minutes, everything happening in slow-motion since his eyes landed on his son the first time around. He knows Quaritch is still there, looking for him, and he knows they have to leave before the Colonel catches up to them.

         “Neteyam…” Jake calls out, his voice breaking. “We gotta go, now.”

         Neteyam rises to his feet, eyes never leaving his twin, and he nods his head slowly. He wants to reach out for Y/N, but the only thing he can manage is to graze at her skin when his father walks past him and begins to walk back to the exit. Neteyam follows, picking up his bow from the ground as well as his father’s rifle because that is what he has been told to do, in training. Always pick back your weapons, when it is possible to do so.

         Lost in thoughts, Neteyam does not even notice it when they emerge outside under the scorching light of the sun. He can’t feel anything but the emptiness in his chest, the missing link that keeps him close to Y/N even if they were miles apart. It sits empty and cold in his chest, and it feels like a part of him has been ripped away, leaving a gaping hole where his twin bond used to be. His eyes don’t look anywhere but his feet, until a screeching ikran makes his ears twitch. He lifts his head up, noticing three mountain banshees in front of him: his father’s, his mother’s, and his own. He sees his mother sliding off of her ride, eyes landing on her daughter in her mate’s arm, and she shakes her head in denial.

         Neytiri does not move, when she sees Y/N’s limp body in Jake’s arms, eyes wide and frantic when they land on her eldest son covered in blood; his twin’s blood. All noises around her diminish to a quiet silence, her breath being the only thing that reaches her ears as her eyes land back on her daughter when Jake comes up beside her.

One beat.

         An anguished wail rips through the atmosphere, echoing as far as the tree of souls in the rainforest, and Neytiri runs to her daughter. The tears do not fall from her eyes, but her hands find Y/N’s face, gently cradling it.

         Jake’s heart shatters once more upon seeing the distress on his mate’s face, how her wide eyes frantically search for any signs of life in their daughter. His heart breaks even more when Neytiri’s broken voice pulls his ears flat against his scalp.

         “No. No. No!” Neytiri cries out. “Oh Great Mother, why? Oh, ma’ite, ma’itetsyìp…”

         Shouts from Bridgehead behind them pull Jake out of his thoughts, and he looks over his shoulder to see four blue tall frames rushing out of the building. His father’s instincts come out, and the urge to protect his family overcome every other thought in his mind. He has to be strong. For Neytiri and for Neteyam. For Y/N. And for his children that stayed home.

         Neytiri notices the change in her mate’s demeanour, and she looks over his shoulder to see Colonel Quaritch running in their direction, with three other avatars on his tail. She nods her head once, as an understanding passes between them, and she goes to Neteyam.

         Her gentle touch on his arms pulls him out of his thoughts, and he looks up to her through his visor, tears silently cascading down his cheeks. She dries some of them with a swipe of her thumbs against his cheekbones, and through the pain she gives her son a comforting smile.

         “Ma’itan. My strong son…” She whispers, her words a wave of comfort to Neteyam. “We must go. Now.”

         Neteyam nods once. He glances at his sister, limp on their father’s ikran, and he nods again. He doesn’t say anything, not knowing what to say, but he walks to his ikran, performing tsaheylu, the neural connection that binds him to his ride for all his life. He takes off after his parents, his ikran soaring across the sky until Bridgehead becomes a dot in the horizon, disappearing behind the rainforest’s trees.

         Jake glances behind his shoulder, seeing Neytiri fly side by side with their son, before he looks down on his daughter. One arm keeps her body secure against him, her head resting against his torso whilst her legs dangle to the side, but he makes sure that his ikran does not let Y/N fall off of him. She looks peaceful in Jake’s arms, and if it weren’t for  her body covered with cuts and a gunshot wound, he’d think she is only sleeping. Jake lowers his head, lips pressed against his daughter’s forehead.

         “Hang in there babygirl.” He whispers into the day’s air. “I’ve got you, Y/N, we’re going home.”

         The ride back to High Camp seems never-ending to Neteyam, but as soon as his ikran lands, his feet are on the ground and he rushes to his father to be close to his twin. He misses her; he misses feeling the pull in his chest, the one that always lets him know his sister is fine. He barely has time to hold Y/N’s cooling hand in his, for his father rushes past him towards the healing tent. Neteyam’s eyes widen as it dwells upon him that his siblings might be inside, with their grandmother. He has to rush behind Jake, running past him and entering the tent first. Mo’at, his grandmother, is grinding herbs and plants when he rushes in, and she turns around when his pants reach her ears. Her brow muscles pull together in a frown, and the certainty that something is wrong settles in her. She notices the blood that covers her grandson’s skin, and she is at his side in a heartbeat, checking him for any injuries. Neteyam does not think much of it, at least not until Tuktirey comes into view and her eyes widen upon seeing her big brother.

         “Neteyam?”

         Her voice comes out shy and worried, which catches the older Sully off guard, and his eyes land on his youngest sister. Be the big brother, Neteyam. For your siblings, he tells himself just as Kiri and Lo’ak come into view.

         Kiri gasps, a hand going over her mouth when she sees Neteyam covered in blood. Lo’ak frown, his eyebrows furrowing; a trait he’s inherited from his father’s Avatar DNA. He crosses his arms over his chest, watching as Tuk goes up to their older brother, mimicking Mo’at’s gestures to check on any injuries on Neteyam’s body.

         “What happened?” Lo’ak asks his brother. “Did you find her? Did you find Y/N?”

         “I-She-We…” Neteyam slurs, not really knowing what to say.

         “Neteyam?”

         It is Kiri who calls him now, and just by looking at her, Neteyam knows that she knows. She knows because she’s always had a strong connection to the Great Mother herself. None of them could truly explain it, nor could they explain how Kiri came to be born out of Grace’s Avatar, but Kiri is Kiri; unique in her own way.

         Neteyam doesn’t have to say anything, because Kiri nods her head once in understanding. His body becomes stiff, however, when he can hear his parents’ voices getting closer, and he takes a step towards his siblings, ignoring his grandmother’s orders to stay put. In one swift movement, his riding visor is off of his forehead and thrown to the side, and he takes Tuk in his arms. He doesn’t care if the blood on him is not dried up yet, but it seems that Tuk doesn’t care either when she rests her head on her brother’s shoulder. Neteyam inhales sharply, swallowing the lump in his throat.

         “We found her.” He says, his voice surprisingly calm. “We found Y/N, but she-” A pause. The words get choked up in his throat as tears form in his eyes. “She’s not…”

         He cannot even finish his sentence, breaking down entirely. So much for being the older brother. Y/N has always been better at being the eldest sibling; he doesn’t know how she even manages to do so as he crumbles down under his siblings’ stares.

         Movement can be heard behind him, but Neteyam does not have the courage to look up. His lips tremble as he tries to hold back his tears, and he feels Kiri’s arm wrap around his shoulder as she rests her forehead against his temple.

         “It’s okay, Neteyam.” She says, voice soft. “It’s okay…”

         “Dad?”

         Lo’ak’s voice reaches Jake’s ears as soon as he steps into the healing tent. His eyes land on his son. Lo’ak looks at him, eyes wide and full of fear as they travel to his sister’s limp frame in their father’s arms. It does not take him long to put two and two together when he sees the cuts and the blood covering Y/N, and he casts his head downwards to his older brother, the understanding of what must have happened falling onto him at full force.

         “Neteyam.”

         Jake’s voice is firm, catching all of his children’s attention, but his stare, hard and devoid of emotions, is solely on his eldest son. His lips press into a thin line on his face as he exhales slowly through his nose.

         “Take your siblings out.” When none of them move, he adds, “Now!”

         Kiri scrambles to her feet, pulling Neteyam with her to exit the tent. Lo’ak reluctantly follows, dragged away by Tuk who worriedly glances at her mother on her way out. Neytiri gives her youngest daughter a smile and a reassuring nod of the head, which seems to be enough for Tuk to leave the tent with a smile of her own on her face.

         When his children are out of sight, Jake almost breaks instantly when he puts his daughter down on a mat. His hands shake, and his heart pounds fast behind his ribcage, suffocating him. He blocks out all noises around him, including Neytiri’s and Mo’at’s voices as his nimble fingers carefully unwraps the white gauze around Y/N’s midriff. A trembling relieved sigh leaves his lips when he sees no exit wound on her back, and he hovers above her, cradling her face in his hands. His thumbs brush against her cheekbones, his touch rough against her soft, unbruised and uncut skin, bioluminescent freckles glowing under the tent’s low light.

         Neytiri kneels beside him, gently taking one of her daughter’s hands between hers, lifting it up to her lips before pressing Y/N’s palm against her cheek. She glances up expectantly at her mother, Tsahìk of the People, and Mo’at sits down opposite to her daughter and the clan’s Olo’yektan. Her eyes land on her granddaughter’s unmoving frame, hands hovering over her as she calls on to the spirit of Eywa for answers.

         Unbeknownst to them, Y/N finds herself surrounded by bright lights, purple and blue hues surrounding her glowing frame. Her hair falls over her shoulders in straight, unbraided strands, and a yellow flower is pinned in her hair at the back of her head. She turns on her heels, sensing a presence beside her, and she smiles knowingly.

         “You fought well, ma’eveng.”

         It is a warm and welcoming voice Y/N could listen to forever. But deep down, she knows she won’t be able to.

         “I did my best, Great Mother.” Y/N smiles, looking down.

         “You did, and it is enough. It has kept your family safe. But they may have need of you yet, ma’eveng. They may need their strong warrior, still.”

         “It is not my time yet, is it Great Mother?”

         “I fear it is not. Your family needs you.”

         “Will I see you again?”

         “When the time is right, ma’eveng. When the time is right.”

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

         It is a low sound, and faint, but Jake can hear it very clearly from where he stands, with his ear pressed against his daughter’s chest where her heart safely hides behind her ribcage. He almost misses it, the sound; Neytiri crying softly beside him as she holds Y/N’s hand in hers.

         Mo’at stills in her movements, eyes glazed over by a white veil as the spirit of Eywa momentarily takes possession of her before it disappears as if it were never there. The Tsahìk breathes out, trembling hands hovering above her granddaughter’s face in anticipation. Neytiri falls quiet, careful eyes glancing between her mother and her daughter as Jake sits up, his large hands pressing on each side of his daughter’s face.

         And then, through the quietness that surrounds the three adults, Y/N’s chest rises and falls slowly, silent breaths leaving through her slightly parted lips. Jake’s body shakes, breath short and shallow as the gears work up his mind. And the Toruk Makto cries. He cries because, thanks Eywa, his daughter breathes. His first daughter breathes when her heart has stopped for Eywa knows how long. He cries because his child lives; because her strong heart beats again. Jake does not care if she does not wake up here and there, because he knows she will live, and he finds himself looking up to thank Eywa for her gift.

         Mo’at sighs in relief, beyond exhausted from performing her Tsahìk duties, but her granddaughter breathes, and Eywa has blessed the family with this gift of life. And in a moment of clarity through the pain and uncertainty, she remembers that her granddaughter still has injuries that need tending to. She exhales slowly and begins to check on the gunshot wound, relieved when she finds out that the bullet has already been pulled out of Y/N’s abdomen. She applies a green paste on the wound, before wrapping it up with a brown bandage. She tends to other cuts, applying paste on the larger ones and cleaning up the smaller ones with a cloth dabbled in cold water.

         Neytiri gasps when it dwells on her that her daughter lives,  bringing one hand up to cover her mouth as tears of relief cascade down her cheeks. She leans down, her head resting against Y/N’s stomach that rises and falls slowly with each intake of air that goes through her lungs. Her first-born daughter, the light of her life, her fierce warrior is alive.

         “Oh Great Mother, thank you. Thank you!” Neytiri cries out, carefully holding on to her daughter.

         Instinctively, Jake’s tail finds its way around Neytiri’s waist, keeping her close as they comfort each other, finding peace of mind in knowing that their eldest child lives. Although, as he watches Mo’at treat Y/N’s injuries, Jake makes a note to seek the help of Norm, to make sure that his daughter does not have any internal injuries or broken bones, aside from the cuts and the gunshot wound.

         Outside, Neteyam sits on a wooden log, in between Tuk and Kiri, the latter cleaning the blood off of his skin with a dampened cloth, and his body goes into shock when he feels it. His mouth falls agape after he inhales sharply, forcing Kiri to stop her movements, Tuk to look up to him in wonder, and Lo’ak to give him a confused glare.

         The world around him vanishes into nothing, as the pull in his chest tugs harder, like a heart beating once more, and a sharp hiss of pain leaves his lips when his side begins to hurt once more. His eyes grow wide, ears flattening against his scalp and tails wagging wildly behind him, while his feet pull him up and his legs carry him to the healing tent before any of his siblings can say anything.

         Neteyam stands there in the entrance, eyes fixated on his twin sister’s body, and he notices the slow rise and fall of her chest. His lips quiver, tears threatening to spill out as he glances towards his father, the man he aspires to be, and he breaks down when he sees the tears on Jake’s face. He crumbles under his weight, falling on his knees between his parents, and he reaches for his sister’s hand, bringing it up to rest against his cheek.

         “I-I can feel her sempu.” Neteyam says through sobs. “I can feel her…”

         Jake cannot fail again. He must protect his family from the Sky People, even if it means to leave the rainforest and seek uturu someplace else. He knows Neytiri does not agree with this, but he must protect his fortress.

         Each intake of air becomes more painful and burns his throat, and Jake is unable to keep his focus on something. The Olo’yektan who always seemed sure of himself, who’s always known what to do, guided by his fierce muntxa and the Tsahìk by his side, crumbles under the weight of fear on his shoulders.

         Lost in his thoughts, and in the panic that settles in his mind, Jake does not notice it when Neytiri comes to sit beside him, her tail wrapping itself around his midriff. He does not move, not until Neytiri’s hand is on his cheek, softly turning his head towards her. He inhales shakily, remorses and uncertainty hidden behind the glow of his yellow eyes.

         “What is it, ma’Jake?” Neytiri asks, her voice soft.

         She attempts a smile, but the frown on her muntxa’s forehead lets her know it is of no use. She caresses his cheek instead, the pad of her thumb rubbing over his cheekbone in gentle strokes, and her heart flutters when he leans into her touch, grabbing onto her wrist to keep himself grounded.

         “I failed her…” Jake says, voice breaking as he speaks. “I have failed our daughter…”

         “Our daughter has a strong heart, ma’Jake.” Neytiri’s voice is comforting, soft. “You did not fail her. She is here with us. She is safe.”

         “I thought we lost her, Neytiri. I thought we lost her…”

         Jake closes his eyes, breathing deeply, and the memories of when he found Y/N come back, imprinting themselves onto his retinas as a haunting memory of what he believes to be his failure. Neytiri’s hand on his cheek grounds him, and when he opens his eyes again, she is looking at him with her head tilted and her muscle brows pulled together in a frown. He knows there is no point in hiding anything to her, because she can see through him like an open book. He takes a deep breath, looking past her shoulder to the Tsahìk’s tent where Y/N rests, before he speaks again.

         “When I found Neteyam,” he starts to explain, “he told me he could not feel her; that he could not feel her pain anymore. He was holding onto her so tight his knuckles became white. He was cradling her, shielding her from anyone with his body. He almost did not want me to take her…” A pause. Jake inhales sharply while Neytiri holds her breath. “When I held her in my arms, when I held Y/N… I could barely see her chest moving. I was not sure she was alive. I thought… I thought we would be burying our daughter tonight…”

          Jake crumbles down as soon as the last words leave his lips, and silent sobs rack through his body. It is unlike him to fall apart in front of Neytiri, let alone in front of everyone. He is Toruk Makto, the mighty warrior who led the clans to victory against the Sky People, and crying is not in the nature of Toruk Makto.

         But tonight… Tonight, Toruk Makto, Olo’yektan of the Omatikaya People, is simply Jake Sully, a father and a husband, afraid to see his family torn apart by the same species he has tried to bury deep within him. Tonight, Jake sheds the mantle of Toruk Makto, and lets himself be vulnerable in front of his mate. He doesn’t hold back the tears that come flooding his waterline, nor does he hide his pain. He bears it bare, with his heart in his hands as he lets out all the worry and fear burdening him. He lets himself be a father, a father afraid and uncertain of whether his daughter will wake up.

         Neytiri watches with tears in her eyes as Jake wears his emotions on his arms, the first time he’s done so since she’s met him. She can only offer him comfort, the grip of her tail tightening around Jake’s midriff as she wraps her arms around his shoulders. And when his arms find refuge around her waist, she lets the tears fall. She allows the fear and the pain to leave her, relieving her body of an unbearable weight. And under the eclipse’s sky and the bright stars scattered across, they hold each other close in comfort, numbing the pain and the fear of nearly losing a child.

—

          That night, after High Camp falls asleep, Neteyam sneaks out of the family pod, and stealthily makes his way to the Tsahìk’s tent where he knows his twin sister rests. The waytelem that hangs from the string of his loincloth hits his thigh softly, and he finds himself holding a blue bead between his fingers, fiddling with it. He thinks of its significance, the birth of his twin sister just sixteen minutes before him, and he hears the song sung by his mother, a distant echo of an old memory he did not know he had.

          When he reaches his grandmother’s healing tent, he pulls the flaps open and sneaks inside, his eyes falling onto Y/N, covered under thick blankets to keep her body warm. Neteyam smiles to himself, the pain now a phantom ache on his side, and he knows his grandmother’s healing paste is working.

          Slowly, he lays beside his twin sister, his tail instinctively going around her waist above the blankets. It is a habit he’s kept since they were infants, a gesture of comfort to one another. He remembers the first time he’s done so, when on a quiet eclipse, thunder suddenly boomed across the sky and Y/N flinched in her sleep beside him, waking him up in the process. He’d found her whimpering in her sleep as fear slowly crept under his skin, until he realized what it was that she was scared of, when a lightning bolt brightened the eclipse sky. He had wrapped his tail around her waist then, pulling her close to him, and his body relaxed as a wave of comfort brought both of their bodies peace for the remainder of the night.

          Neteyam rolls closer to Y/N, his chest pressed against her arm that lays flat beside her, and he draps an arm over her stomach, relishing in the way it would rise and fall slowly, a sign that air was flowing through her lungs. His eyes focus on the tanhì across his sister’s face, connecting them together in his mind as they glow softly under the dim light of the healing tent. From time to time, his gaze stops on the different cuts and bruises he can see on Y/N’s body, and his heart aches at the sight. Even if he has the slightest idea of what has happened, he still wonders about what she’s had to go through with the Sky People.

          Lost in thoughts, and with sleep slowly consuming him, Neteyam does not notice it when his grandmother steps inside the healing tent to check on Y/N.

          Mo’at smiles when she sees her grandchildren together, Neteyam having fallen asleep beside his twin. She grabs a blanket that lays around somewhere and drapes it over her grandson, providing him with some warmth to keep him asleep through the night. She knows of Jake’s plan to leave the rainforest and, as much as it pains her to see her family leaving, she knows it is for the best. To protect the People until the Sky People leave Pandora for good. But it does not mean her heart does not break, to think of her family having to flee, in order to protect the rest of them. So, for as long as she is able to, she will bask into the sight of her grandchildren together, until their voices and laughter becomes a memory set in stone in her mind.

          When morning comes, Neteyam wakes up with the sun rays caressing his face, and a cold empty space beside him. When he realizes it, he sits up abruptly, eyes wide and frantic as he looks around. He is in his grandmother’s Tsahik tent, that he knows for certain, but he was also certain that his unconscious twin sister laid beside him when he involuntarily fell asleep last eclipse. He tugs at his braids, breath becoming heavier as he searches for his twin. How did she leave? Did she ever leave at all? Did they not get her back from the Sky People at Bridgehead? Numerous questions slither their way into his brain, as his breathing pattern quickens and tears linger at his waterline.

          He takes a trembling breath, grounding himself as he closes his eyes, and he pushes the anxiety back until he no longer feels it. Instead, he focuses on the numbing pain that settles on his right side, and the tingles that litter his arms and chest. His sister is awake. He knows she is, because he feels her pain. It does not hurt as much, more comforting than anything else, and the wave of peace that fills him lets him know that Y/N is fine. What worries him, however, is not knowing where she has run off to, especially as she is wounded and not fully healed.

          Neteyam stays still for a minute, gathering his thoughts, and when it dwells on her that his sister no longer is inside the Tsahìk’s tent, panic flashes in his irises, and he rushes outside to find his parents. His long legs carry him faster than his mind can comprehend, looking anywhere but in front of him, and his body collides full-force into another taller and stronger frame.

          “Neteyam? What is wrong?”

          He recognizes his father’s voice before he sees him, and he almost wishes he didn’t lift his head up to look at Jake. Because Jake knows his son, and as soon as he sees the tears in his eyes, panic fills his mind like a tidal wave. He sees Neteyam’s lips quiver as his mouth opens and closes without any word coming out of it, and Jake has to firmly press his hands into his son’s shoulders to keep him focused.

          “S-she’s gone…” Neteyam stutters out, his father’s hands grounding him. “Y/N… s-she’s gone!”

          “What do you mean, ‘gone’?”

          Jake asks, voice cracking under the pressure and the fear that makes home in his chest. His eyes, usually hard as stone and cold, soften upon seeing Neteyam’s distress, and he tries his best to hide his own rising anxiety.

          “S-she… she was asleep sir, I swear she was, last eclipse.” Neteyam rambles, panic dripping from his voice. “I-I saw her b-but then I woke up, and s-she’s gone. Y/N’s gone!”

          Jake glanced past his son’s shoulder towards the Tsahìk’s tent, brows pulled together in confusion. He’s seen his daughter before the last eclipse, when Norm came to check on her for any internal bleeding or broken bones. He’d said there wasn’t anything, but that Y/N would not regain consciousness for a few days.

          When Jake looks back at his eldest son, he sees the tears rolling down Neteyam’s cheeks. He’s rarely ever seen his eldest cry, neither of the twins ever did cry in front of him and Neytiri. Of course they did, when they were infants, but they stopped crying in front of their parents when they first began their training as warriors of the clan.

          Jake swallows the growing lump that forms in his throat, as the realization settles in his mind. He has been too hard on his kids, always asking his eldests to set an example for his youngest, to keep an eye on Lo’ak to keep him out of trouble. He realizes now, that either Neteyam or Y/N always took the blame for Lo’ak, to protect him from their father’s angry scolds and stares. It is the first time in years that Jake sees his first-born son cry, and he is completely clueless as to what to do. Instinctively though, his arms go around Neteyam’s shoulders, and he brings him closer to his chest, one hand resting behind his son’s head. He takes a deep breath, chest rising and falling slowly with the action, and he looks down on Neteyam with a soft stare.

          “What do you feel, ma’itan?” Jake asks, wondering about the twin connection between Neteyam and Y/N. “What are your tsmuke’s emotions?”

          Neteyam shakes his head, sniffling. He can sense her pain, but it’s a phantom sensation now; it doesn’t hurt as much as it did the previous day. His arms, chest and thighs tingle where his sister has cuts and bruises on her skin, but it isn’t as uncomfortable as it was when he found her in Bridgehead.

          He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, tilting his head as he focuses on the emotions that travel through his body. He pushes down the anxiety that rises up his throat, searching deep down for the pull that connects him to Y/N. When he finds it, tugging at his heartstrings like a warm embrace, he smiles, and he focuses on it. He feels the warmth that spreads from it, the soft tingling that flutters into the pit of his stomach, and a wave of calmness submerges him, encompassing the anxiety until it’s no longer traveling through every muscle. His lips curve into a soft smile without him knowing it, and his eyes flutter open to look at his father.

          “She is happy.” Neteyam smiles, sighing. “At peace. She isn’t hurting much anymore. Not like yesterday. B-but… I don’t know where she is…”

          Jake lets out a breath he did not know he was holding, eyes fluttering shut in relief upon hearing his son’s words. His daughter is awake, and seemingly well. At peace, like Neteyam has said. But the worry is ever present in Jake’s mind, thinking back on his daughter’s injuries and the gunshot wound that is still healing on her side. What if it reopens and she starts bleeding again? And what if it bleeds again and he isn’t there to make sure she does not bleed out to death? She has already lost so much blood, and he cannot risk losing her. He cannot.

          Jake untangles his arms from around his son’s shoulders, and he looks past his own shoulder when he hears soft footsteps behind him. Neytiri stands there, a couple feet away from them, with her brow muscles pulled together in concern as she gazes up at her eldest son and the tears that stick on his cheeks. Her eyes then find those of her muntxa, and she reads the anxiety that hides behind his glowing yellow irises. She takes a deep breath as she approaches them both, resting a hand on Jake’s shoulders.

          “What is it ma’Jake?” She asks him, worry laced in her words.

          “Our itetsyìp is awake.”

          Jake lets out a breath as he says so, his lips curving into a thin-lipped smile across his features. He fully turns towards Neytiri, and he places his hands on each side of her face, thumbs brushing across her cheekbones.

          “Our itetsyìp is awake.” Jake repeats, as the realization settles in.

          “Where is she?” Neytiri asks, letting out a breath. “Where is she?”

          Neteyam shakes his head when Neytiri looks at him, and she tilts her head in confusion when she glances back at Jake.

          Jake takes a deep breath, eyes fluttering close in thoughts, and memories of his first-born daughter come flooding his mind. He smiles to himself when he remembers the first time she’s ever held a bow and learned to fire her arrows, or when she and Neteyam got into an argument that resulted in both of them scraping their knees and twisting their right ankle. Then, he remembers a moment, when he was alone with Y/N before she had to pass her Iknimaya.

          They were sitting under the Tree of Voices, surrounded by blue and purple shades from the glowing tendrils falling from the tree around them. He sits beside her as she looks down at her hands in her lap, fiddling with her fingers. He sees the lines on her forehead, a distinct sign of her being anxious or worried. He has a vague idea of why she would be in such a state, but he wants to hear her say it.

          “What is wrong, babygirl?” He asks her, nudging her side softly. “Tell me what’s going on in that pretty mind of yours.”

          Y/N heaves out a sigh, shaking her head. She sniffles, wiping her nose with the palm of her hand, before she looks up into her father’s eyes, and Jake can see the fear lingering beneath her glowing yellow orbs.

          “What if I am not strong enough, sempu?” She asks, voice breaking slightly. “What if I’m not strong like Neteyam, and I can’t pass through it? Will I be cast out from the clan?”

          Jake smiles softly, brushing some braids away from his daughter’s face before he caresses her cheek, stroking her warm skin with his thumb.

          “Dad, what if I am not good enough for this?”

          Y/N lets out a frustrated sigh at that, moving her face from her father’s touch and lowering it to look at the ground. Jake frowns, brows pulled together and creasing a line on his forehead as the gears turn in his mind. He does not know what to say, so instead he pulls her closer by wrapping his arms around her shoulders. He smiles when she rests her head against his chest, and he dips his head down to kiss the crown of her head.

          “You are ready, ma’ite.” Jake whispers, rubbing circles into the skin of her upper arm. “You are the strongest tsamsiyu amongst the Na’vi of your age. You managed to take your ikran faster than Neteyam ever did, and I have seen you when you had your first clean kill. You will do just fine, babygirl.”

          “I-I don’t know, dad…”

          “Ma’ite.”

          Jake whispers, cradling Y/N’s face in his hands to make her look at him. He rubs his thumbs across her cheeks, eyes boring into hers and he sees his little girl again, the one he held in his arms whenever she’s had a nightmare. He smiles, and his hands settle on her shoulders, giving them a firm squeeze.

          “Oel ngati kameie, Y/N.” Jake says with a smile. “I see you, my daughter.”

          Y/N smiles then, wrapping her arms around her father’s neck as all her worries vanish from her buzzing mind, relishing in the presence of her father next to her.

          Jake smiles and blinks several times when he is pulled out from memory lane by Neytiri shaking him gently. He tilts his head, raising a brow, before his eyes fall onto the worried state of his eldest son.

          “I may have an idea of where your sister has gone to.”

—

          There is beauty to a child’s innocence, but innocence once lost can never be regained, and the Sully family would soon learn it the hard way.

          Y/N lays under the Tree of Voices when Jake finds her. Her eyes are closed, but he cannot tell whether she is asleep or unconscious until he sees her fingers twitch against her chest. Her skin is littered with cuts and bruises, and the gunshot wound on her abdomen is still covered with the green paste Mo’at had applied during last eclipse.

          Jake smiles upon seeing her, and he kneels down to sit beside her resting figure, legs crossed. He puts his gun down next to him and pulls his visor up on his forehead, before he brings one hand to caress his daughter’s cheek.

          Y/n’s eyes snap open, and her hand flies to Jake’s wrist in a heartbeat, squeezing to push the hand away from her face. Jake is slow to react, watching as his daughter scrambles to her feet and stands panting, hands on her knees. Her body shakes, and her frantic eyes keep looking around until they land on him and she tilts her head in confusion. Jake raises his hands and arms up in defense, heart squeezing in his chest at the thought of Y/N being afraid of him.

          “Hey babygirl, it’s me. Dad.” Jake whispers, taking a step towards Y/N. “I’m not gonna hurt you ma’ite. You are safe here, it’s just us.”

          Y/N shakes her head, blinking several times to keep her tears at bay until she can’t anymore and they roll down her cheeks like waterfalls. Her chest heaves up and down rapidly with the shallow breaths that leave through her lips. She takes a step back every time Jake tries to step closer to her, and she raises a trembling hand in warning, hoping he’d stop walking towards her. She flinches when her palm is pressed against his chest, and she can feel his heart beating behind his ribcage. Her eyes widen at the touch, and she hurries to take her hand off of his chest, but Jake is quicker this time, and he wraps his slender fingers around her wrist, pressing her hand back against his chest as he steps closer.

          His eyes soften when he notices just how much her body is trembling, and the never-ending tears that roll down her cheeks. He wonders then, about the things that go on inside his daughter’s head, and how he can help her ease her mind. He offers her a soft smile, tilting his head as he does so, and he watches as her brow muscles pull together into a confused frown.

          Jake usually sees how much Y/N resembles her twin brother, but all he can see now is the fear that hides behind her frantic yellow irises, the quiver of her lips as sobs break through and shake her entire body. He sees how her knees buckle under her weight, and he is quick enough to hold her against his side as she crumbles under the weight on her shoulders. He sits the both of them down on the mossy ground, under the glowing tendrils that provide blue and purple shades of light, and he presses a hand against her face as she rests it against his chest. He stays like this with her for a while, waiting until her sobs tone down to quiet sniffles, and he looks down on her when she pushes herself from him.

          “I-is this real?” Y/N dares to ask, lips trembling. “A-are you real? A-am I not d-dreaming?”

         Y/N puts distance between her and Jake, scurrying a couple feet away from him, but she keeps herself seated on the ground. She fiddles with her fingers in her lap as she looks up to the tree of Voices, the tears now silently rolling down her already moist cheeks. Soft hiccups leave her chest whenever she takes a breath, and although he knows she is hurting, Jake cannot help the smile that curves his lips upward when he is reminded of a time when she was younger and suffered a bad case of hiccups. She’d come up to him, pouting and with her cat-like nose scrunched up, body shaking with each hiccup that left her lips.

         The reality of the situation catches up to him when Y/N inhales sharply, and Jake looks up to see his daughter pressing a hand against her right side, hissing softly at her touch. His ears flatten against his scalp, and he scouts over closer to her, gently taking her hand in his to take a look at her injury.

         “Is it… Is it supposed to hurt, if I am with the Great Mother now?”

         Y/N’s voice catches Jake off of guard, and he lifts his head up to look at her. It is as if the tears were never there, although he can still see the moist trails staining her cheeks, but instead of a pout, he finds her smiling at him, the sharp edge of her fangs slipping through her slightly parted lips.

         “W-what?”

         Jake breathes out in disbelief. Did she think she was dead and he was seeing her through his connection with the tree of Voices?

         When he sees she is watching him with an expectant gaze, he sighs and lowers his head to glance down at her gunshot wound to make sure it isn’t infected and that it is healing properly. He shakes his head then, after mulling over her question over and over, and his hands find hers, squeezing them softly.

         “You are not with the Great Mother, ma’ite.” Jake whispers, afraid that if he spoke too loud he would scare her. “This is not a dream babygirl. This,” he points between them both, “is real. I am real, and you are real.”

         A breath gets caught up in Y/N’s throat, lips quivering as she looks up to the man before her. She recognizes him as a face from her circle of acquaintances. His eyes, slightly smaller than a real Na’vi’s, the dark eyebrows and the tanhì littered across his face, are all familiar to her, but she cannot put a name to the warming smile that adorns his face. She wants to, because she can tell that the man knows her, and that he cares for her, but his name is stuck somewhere in the gray areas of her head; memories she cannot access.

         Jake seems to notice this, from the way her brow muscles pull together and crease a frown on her forehead. He sees her cat-like nose scrunching up in deep thought, the same way it always did when she got worried or heavily thinking. He smiles softly, tilting his head, and he brings one hand up to caress her cheek, brushing his thumb across the tanhì splattered on her skin in the shape of a star. He finds it ironic, how he came from a star, the Earth, and how his first-born child, his daughter, got graced with a tanhì-shaped star on her cheek. Still, he smiles at the detail, wiping away the tears that roll under his thumb, and his other hand comes up to cradle her face.

         “Tell me what’s going on in that pretty mind of yours, babygirl.” Jake says.

         Y/N’s eyes widen at his words, and a wave of memories come crashing at the front of her mind. She trips backwards, but Jake is there to hold her back with his hands going down on her upper arms, and she blinks away the tears that linger at her waterline.

         She remembers being in the forest as the rain started to pour, and she remembers the stinging pain at the base of her neck where her queue connects with her head. As the memory rushes back to her forefront, one of her hands instinctively flies to her queue, gripping it softly when the phantom pain rises. She remembers her mother’s call and the arrow flying through the air before lodging itself in an avatar’s head. She remembers Kiri and Spider running away, and she remembers getting Tuktirey up before Lo’ak came and urged them to go forward. She remembers a missile exploding behind her and making her lose her balance, blacking out.

         And it comes back to her, the way Quaritch had spoken to her and how the Sky People threatened her family; the gunshot wound on her side and the men dressed in white blouses, cutting her skin and poking needles through her veins to draw blood until she’d pass out. And she remembers Eywa, as she watched down onto her family, and the words the Great Mother had spoken to her.

         A trembling breath leaves her lips, and she lets the tears fall down her cheeks in slow cascades of water as her yellow orbs land on the figure before her. Her heart squeezes in her chest, pounding behind her ribcage as the man’s features become a comforting familiarity.

         “D-dad?”

         Y/N cries out, and as soon as the single word leaves her lips, Jake lets out a relieved laugh, wrapping his arms around her shoulders to bring her close to him. He tightens his grip on her when she buries her face in the crook of his neck, and her arms wrap around his midriff in a tight lock. Her tears soak his skin, sobs shaking her body, but Jake keeps his arms tightly secure around her, holding her until she calms down. Her body suddenly goes rigid against him, and Y/N uses all the strength she has left to push herself from her father.

         Tears still roll silently down her cheeks; her muscle brows are pinched together in a deep frown on her forehead, and her nose is scrunched up as she sniffles. Her wide eyes, glowing green under the lights from the tree of Voices’ tendrils, frantically look around. Jake can see the fear and the worry settle behind his daughter’s irises, and he gently takes a hold of her forearms, his strong yet soft grip making her focus her eyes onto him.

          “What is it babygirl?” He asks her, voice soft.

         “A-are they safe?” Y/N stutters out, tears streaming down her face. “A-are my siblings safe?” The fear rises beneath her skin. “Please, dad! Please, tell me they are safe! I’m sorry! I’m sorry I couldn’t… I’m sorry I couldn’t protect them… Please, tell me they’re safe! Please…”

         Jake’s heart squeezes within his chest upon hearing his daughter’s rambles and her apologies. He unwillingly lets the tears at his waterline roll down his cheeks as he wraps his arms around Y/N’s shoulders and brings her closer to his chest. He cradles the back of her head with one hand when her cheek is pressed against his skin, and he brings his lips to the crown of her head. Rocking back and forth until her cries die down, he rubs his free hand up and down her back, drawing circles on her skin once in a while when he reaches the middle of her spine.

         “Your siblings are safe, ma’ite, thanks to you.” Jake whispers, and he feels the tip of her ears brush against his face. “They are with your sa’nok and your grandmother, unharmed. You did protect them, my strong daughter.”

         A sob breaks through Y/N’s lips, and her arms snake around her father’s midriff before she hugs him tightly, and Jake almost feels the air being knocked out of his chest from her strength. His hands stay on her back and head until her body stops trembling and her grip loosens around him, and he moves them to cup her face when she pulls away from him, sniffling. With his thumbs, he wipes away the remaining tears that stain her cheeks, and his heart flutters when she leans into his touch, eyelids dripping for a second as she revels into the warmth of his touch on her skin.

         “I-I died, didn’t I sempu?” Y/N asks, looking up to her father.

         Jake heaves out a trembling breath as he brushes a strand of braided hair away from his daughter’s face, tucking it behind her ear. He can see many things swirling behind her irises, but he looks for the innocence for which his daughter is known amongst the People. His heart breaks when he cannot find it, and he wonders about the things she is hiding from him. He knows she will not tell him, because she is her father’s daughter, and he never told of his struggles to anyone after his career in the Marines ended on Earth. He hates it, that his daughter is so much like him in that aspect, keeping her emotions and thoughts to herself.

         “You did babygirl.” Jake admits in a whisper, at last. He takes a breath, deep and slow. “But the Great Mother has given us a second chance together. I will not fail you again, ma’ite.”

         Y/N shakes her head, processing her father’s words as trembling breaths leave her chest. Her hands find her father’s, and she squeezes them gently, the ghost of a smile gracing her features for a millisecond.

         “You did not fail me dad.” Y/N says softly. “I chose to protect my siblings, like you taught me to.”

         “You died, Y/N.” Jake breathes out in disbelief, as if his daughter hadn’t heard him. “Y/N. You died. You died and I could not do anything about it. I thought we would have to bury you last night!”

         Y/N blinks at her father’s outburst, eyes widening slightly when she sees the tears that begin to roll down his cheeks in slow cascades. She had died, and her father, the mighty Olo’yektan of the Omatikaya People, thought it had been his fault.

         “N-Neteyam?” Y/N breathes out, voice shaking.

         Jake knows instantly what his daughter is thinking, and he shakes his head. He keeps rubbing his thumbs across her cheeks softly as she grips onto his wrists, her nails slowly digging into his skin.

         “Is he… is he okay?” She asks, breathless.

         Jake inhales sharply. He does not know whether he should tell her. Neteyam’s face flashes back in his mind as he thinks of the moment when he found his eldest son cradling his twin sister’s limp body in his arms, shielding her from harm with his own body, tears rolling down his cheeks. He remembers his son’s broken voice as he whispered his pleas to the Great Mother, his words a haunting echo in the back of Jake’s mind.

I can’t feel her sempu. Her pain… It’s all gone.

         Jake remembers those words all too well, and his body is racked with a sob, making his daughter pull away from him and look up to him with a frown on her beautiful, unharmed face. He cannot help but chuckle through the tears when he sees the way her nose is scrunched up, and how it forms crinkles in the corners of her teary eyes. He caresses the side of her face with one hand, fingers lingering under her chin, before he takes a deep breath.

         “Your brother…” Jake breathes out. “He is the one who’s found you, at Bridgehead. I came a bit after, and he was shielding your body with his own, to protect you. I…” A pause. “I did not understand why, until Neteyam looked up to me, and he told me he couldn’t feel you anymore. That he couldn’t feel your pain…”

         Y/N’s hand flies up to her mouth when a gasp leaves her lips. She doesn’t have anymore tears to shed, and yet she is surprised when a single drop of salty water comes down to kiss her lips. It’s then that she focuses on the pull at the center of her chest, the connection she shares with her twin brother, and she holds on to it when she finally grasps it. It lingers in the air like an invisible thread, pulling her forward to stand on her feet. And there is the guilt, and the fear, and the anxiety that linger at the very edge of that thread. It tugs at her heartstrings, mind reeling with the possible outcomes of everything that has happened until now. Her lips quiver when the knot in the pit of her stomach grows larger and she isn’t sure whether it is hers, or Neteyam’s.

          Jake notices it, the grimace that breaks onto his daughter’s face as the gears turn in her mind. He inhales sharply, and he rises to his feet, his daughter’s hands still in his. He tugs on them and smiles when she stands up next to him, but she wobbles on her feet and he has to wrap his tail around her waist to keep her steady, given that both his hands were already taken.

         Y/N stumbles on her feet every once in a while as they walk up to Bob, his ikran, but Jake keeps a firm grip on her until he knows she is comfortable enough sitting on his mighty ride. He sits behind her, after tsaheylu with Bob is complete, and he secures her in his embrace, arms wrapped around her midriff.

         “Ready to go home?”

         Jake asks and he smiles when Y/N nods her head, ears peeking up at the mention of home. He catches a glimpse of the worry that hides behind her glowing orbs, and with one last kiss on top of her head, Jake and his ride take off to the skies, ready to fly home.

         Y/N does not say anything during the flight home, and Jake knows something is not right. She did not make comments about the flora that surrounds them, nor did she speak excitedly about the stars slowly showing up in the sky as the eclipse comes closer. She always did so, whether it was during hunting parties or simple flights out with the whole family, and it always warmed Jake’s heart to hear her little comments. But not tonight, and Jake knows there is something on her mind. He will not force it out of her, but he tells himself to keep an eye on her. He smiles though, when he feels her lean further into his embrace, looking for comfort into his arms. Instinctively, he tightens his hold around her, and he leans down to kiss the top of her head when Bob dives right towards the High Camp, hidden within the Hallelujah Mountains.

         When they finally land in the cave’s entrance, Jake helps Y/N slide off of his ikran, and he winces slightly when she squeezes his hand a little too hard. She hisses in pain as the skin on her side stretches with her movement, and he knows it is the bullet wound healing on her abdomen that causes her pain. Jake also knows that it will take Neteyam about two minutes before he shows up beside them after sensing his sister’s pain.

         “You okay babygirl?”

         Jake asks Y/N when her feet touch the ground. She is pressing her right hand against her right side and gripping his forearm with her left hand. Her lips form a thin line, and her eyes narrow together at the sudden pain that travels through her body. She nods once, and she tries her best to give her father a reassuring smile. She does not have time to say anything, as two arms wrap themselves around her midriff when a small body collides with her back. The force of impact sends her tumbling forwards slightly, but Jake is here to keep his daughter balanced, and a deep chuckle rumbles from his chest when he sees his youngest daughter past Y/N’s shoulders.

         “Tuk, let your tsmuke breathe a bit, will you?”

         “But dad!”

         Tuktirey complains, drawing out the letter ‘a’ as she whines. Y/N shakes her head, a small yet tired smile making its way onto her lips as she turns around in her little sister’s arms, patting her head gently.

         “Hi Tuktuk.” Y/N chuckles. “I’m happy to see you too.”

         “I have missed you, tsmuke. Where have you been? Dad said you were not going to be home for a while…”

         Tuk pouts as she looks up to her sister. Y/N’s heart squeezes in her chest, but she does not have it in her to explain to Tuk why she has been absent from home. Her sister, only seven years of age, does not need to know about the horrors of war. Eywa, let her keep her innocence just a little bit longer, Y/N thinks to herself as she kneels down to be the same size as her sister.

         “It does not matter Tuktuk.” Y/N smiles, shaking her head. “I am home, aren’t I?”

         Tuk nods her head, this time wrapping her arms around Y/N’s shoulders and giving her older sister a big wet kiss on the cheek, before she pulls away giggling and skipping back to the family tent.

         Jake steps closer to his first-born child, and he watches as his youngest returns to their home. One of his hands finds Y/N’s shoulder for comfort, and his heart swells when she leans into him, resting her head against his chest.

         “Three.” Jake begins to mumble and Y/N smiles knowingly. “Two. One.”

         Just then, a small crowd of blue Na’vi rushes out of the place they call home, and Y/N can see her mother leading the small party. She pushes herself away from her father’s arms and braces herself for impact, her hand still carefully pressed against the healing gunshot wound on her side. She expects her mother to be the first to embrace her, but she does not think about Neteyam, who speeds past their mother with his arms wide open, and he almost runs head first into his sister, sending her tumbling backward a little.

         On instinct, Neteyam wraps his arms around his twin sister’s shoulders and buries his face in the crook of her neck, his tail wrapping itself around her waist. His tears soak her skin, and Y/N cannot help but bury her face in his neck as well, another round of tears leaving her already dried-up eyes. She clings onto her brother for comfort, arms under his own as she clings onto his shoulders, nails digging into his skin.

          Neteyam does not intend to let go, as he tightens his embrace around her shoulders, and his heart grows twice its size when he feels her tail wrap itself around his waist, like his did around hers, and he knows she does not intend to let go either. The pull between them grows, the invisibility string pulsing stronger as their chests are pressed against one another, and the weight on both their shoulders begins to diminish.

         “Does it… Does it hurt you… as much as it hurts me?” Y/N mumbles against his neck and between cries.

         Neteyam only nods, the tip of his ears brushing against her cheek as he does.

         “I thought… I thought I lost you…” Neteyam breathes out, pulling away to look at his twin. “I-I… I couldn’t feel you there anymore.” He adds, pointing at her chest. “I couldn’t. It was all gone.”

         Y/N’s lips quiver, and she grabs Neteyam’s shoulders to embrace him once more. She shakes her head as she cries louder into his neck.

         “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, tsmukan. So sorry.”

         Y/N mumbles into his chest, and Neteyam knows it isn’t her fault. He doesn’t understand why she is apologizing for something that was out of her control, but when he glances up to his father over her shoulder, he sees Jake simply shaking his head, and Neteyam knows not to question it. Instead, his arms tighten once more around her waist and he buries his face in the crook of her neck. He doesn’t want to pull away, the anguish he feels in his chest foreign and unbearable, and he knows that Y/N needs this. He still feels the pain on his right side, but he doesn’t care anymore, now that he knows his twin sister will be just fine. Or so he thinks.

         Neytiri is the one to embrace her daughter in a crushing hug when Neteyam pulls away from his twin, and Y/N whines softly, her words muffled against her mother’s chest.

         “Sa’nu!” Y/N whines. “You’re squishing me!”

         “Thank you, Great Mother! Thank you!”

         Neytiri keeps on saying, as she cradles the back of her firstborn daughter’s head, pressing her cheek against the crown of her head. She doesn’t let go, not even when Y/N tries to push her mother away until she eventually gives up and wraps her arms around her mother’s midriff instead.

         “I’m okay, mom.” Y/N says against her mother’s chest. “You can let go now.”

         “Are you, ma’ite? Alright?” Neytiri question, slightly pulling away from Y/N.

         Y/N looks up and nods, smiling softly. Neytiri sighs and glances at Jake, who nods too, which eases Neytiri’s mind a little. She gives her daughter a once-over look, eyes lingering a little on her injuries, before she reluctantly lets go of her. Y/N mumbles a small thank you, and she looks past her mother’s shoulder to the two siblings who have yet to greet her.

         Kiri’s face breaks into a grin when Y/N smiles and opens her arms to her middle siblings. Lo’ak stays back when Kiri runs in her older sister’s arms, and Y/N can see the way his eyebrows, a distinctive trait he inherited from their father, pull together in a frown. His lips are pressed shut together in a thin line, and Y/N can see the gears turning in his mind. Her face falls into one of concern, but she brushes it off as something trivial, and she wraps her arms around Kiri’s waist when her sister gives her cheek a kiss.

         “I am glad to see you are okay, tsmuke.” Kiri says, holding her sister at arms’ length.

         “I am happy to be home, Kiri.” Y/N smiles, ruffling her sister’s hair.

         When Kiri lets her go, Y/N casts her eyes onto her little brother, and she frowns when she notices that Lo’ak tries his best to avoid her stare. Her smile falls when he turns his head away, and she tilts her head as the sadness fills her eyes.

         “Lo’ak?”

         She calls out to him, her voice small and worried, but he doesn’t look at her. Instead, he turns around and begins to walk back towards the family tent. Y/N’s lips quiver, heart pinching in sadness as she watches her brother walk away, and her body flinches slightly when Neteyam puts a hand on her shoulder and wraps his tail around her waist.

         “He’ll come around tsmuke.” Neteyam smiles softly. “Give him time.”

         Y/N nods her head, although she does not quite understand why Lo’ak would react that way upon her arrival. The gears begin to turn in her mind, and she tries her best to keep the tears at her waterline from rolling down her cheeks, and she gives her mother a smile when Neytiri nods towards the family tent.

—

         There is a shift in the air when Y/N wakes up abruptly, sweat dripping down her forehead and tears brimming her eyes. It feels colder, sending shivers down her spine and making her wrap her arms around herself for comfort and warmth. It is quiet in the family tent, the only sounds heard being the peaceful breathing of her parents and siblings. It contrasts with her heavier and shorter breathing pace, chest heaving up and down irregularly as she tries to catch her breath. Her eyes land on Neteyam for a quick second, and Y/N chokes back a sob, lips quivering. She has to control her emotions if she does not want to wake up her twin brother.

         She closes her eyes, inhaling deeply through her nostrils, the air filling her lungs before she exhales through her parted lips. She repeats this breathing pattern several times before she gets her emotions in check, and she focuses on a happier memory, buried deep in her mind. She glances back at Neteyam, only to see him still fast asleep, and a small smile appears on her lips as she watches his peaceful state. She refrains from allowing her forefinger to trace the tanhì that litter his face like stars scattered across the eclipse sky, and instead, she untangles her tail from around his to stand up and walk out the family tent.

          Y/N allows herself to breathe the outside air, closing her eyes for a quick second, before she goes to sit on a wooden log near the tent. She keeps her arms wrapped around herself, and she lets her eyes linger on the different cuts and bruises that cover her blue skin. A single tear rolls down her cheek, blurry memories flooding her mind like a tidal wave. She remembers their hands on her, and their human needles being forced into her thick Na’vi skin. She remembers the electrodes they patched onto her forehead and on her chest, to monitor her brain activity and her heartbeat, while she laid on the metallic chair, gasping and pleading to be able to breathe Pandoran air. She remembers how they used their tiny scalpels to cut through her skin, leaving her to bleed out when they were done with her. And there is this distant memory, hidden in the deepest parts of her mind, that fights to show itself to the forefront of her mind in blurry images. A blurry figure with two large patches of white in their hands. Blurry movements, and Y/N thinks that they cleaned her cuts, before they moved her to the place the Sky People kept her prisoner.

         She chokes back on a sob as the memories resurface, and she nearly jumps out of her skin when a hand comes to rest on her shoulder. She freezes, slowly turning her head to come face to face with her mother. Y/N’s lips curve into the tiniest of smiles as she leans into her mother’s embrace, resting her head on the woman’s shoulder.

         “What is wrong, ma’ite?”

         Neytiri asks after a while of comfortable silence, and she cups her daughter’s face between her four-fingered hands, thumbs gently brushing her cheeks.

         “Nothing mama.” Y/N whispers. “I’m fine.”

         Y/N lies and Neytiri knows she is lying. But she doesn’t push. She doesn’t force the truth out of her daughter’s mouth, knowing that, in time, Y/N will come to her and pour her sorrows.

         “Just a nightmare sa’nu.” Y/N adds, leaning her head back on her mother’s shoulder. “I cannot go back to sleep.”

         “Ma’itetsyìp…”

         Neytiri whispers, kissing the crown of her daughter’s head. She lets her hands fall from Y/N’s face, and instead she wraps her arms around her daughter’s shoulders, tail swishing anxiously behind both of them. When Neytiri notices the anxiety in her daughter from the movements of her tail, she sighs and closes her eyes, resting her cheek on top of Y/N’s head.

         Y/N does not have to say anything because, at that moment, Neytiri knows. She knows what goes on through her daughter’s mind and her heart aches just with the thought of it. But when Y/N begins to relax in her embrace, Neytiri smiles softly, leaving a kiss on her temple.

         “In time ma’eveng,” Neytiri whispers, “you will heal.”

           Panic flashes in her eyes, but she cannot move, arms pinned against the armrests where her wrists are tied by down by leather straps. When she tries to move her hands, the leather rubs against her skin, and she hisses when it begins to itch her skin. She throws her head back as a groan rumbles from her chest, out of frustration, but she stops all movement when the door to her right opens wide, and a Sky person steps in, followed by Quaritch and another of his team, Wainfleet, if she remembers correctly. She snarls, baring her fangs, before she has to cough. The human oxygen burns her throat and lungs, but she tries to push the pain down, her yellow eyes glaring at the three people in front of her.

           The Sky person is a woman, dressed in camouflage pants and an olive-green shirt. Her hair, dirty-blond coloured, is tied in a tight high bun at the back of her head covered by a military cap. Her eyes begin to drill holes in Y/N’s body, and the latter glares back, snarling. Tiredness settles deep to the marrow of her bones, but she will not give up. It does not matter how long she is their prisoner, how long it takes for her parents to come for her, she will stand her grounds. She knows it might not take long before her parents come because, buried under all her pain, fear, and tiredness, she can sense her twin brother’s anguish, and his own fear, growing in the pit of her stomach.

           A soft cry leaves her lips when she thinks of Neteyam, and she does not bother to keep the tears in her eyes as they slowly roll down her cheeks. Her lips quiver, before she coughs again, throat burning with each breath she takes. She knows she is not supposed to breathe that much human oxygen, at least not for as long as she has been doing. What she doesn’t know is how long it will take for the human oxygen to kill her. Because, eventually, it will kill her; she is certain of it. Her chest heaves up and down painfully, and her heart pounds against her ribcage. She wants to scream, but the sound gets lodged in her throat, creating a lump she cannot swallow back in her oesophagus. Her legs are numb, and for a second she is afraid that she cannot move them anymore, until her toes brush against the cool tiled floor beneath her. Her wrists begin to hurt from the friction of the leather straps against her skin, and her head begins to ache from the earlier moment where she’d hit it against the ceiling when talking to Quaritch.

          She knows he watches her every movement, breathing from times to times through the transparent-green mask hanging from around his neck. She knows he must have a satisfied grin on his face, knowing that he has Jake Sully’s daughter in his grasp, and that he can use her as leverage against him. A silent sob leaves her lips at the thought, and suddenly she finds herself silently praying to Eywa for someone to come and get her before something goes wrong.

           “I will ask you this once, and only once.” The woman says, approaching Y/N. “Where is Jake Sully?”

           Y/N slowly turns her head to the woman beside her. It would be easy to claw at her face, unprotected by the ExoPack that allows humans to breathe outside of their little structure. Y/N could claw at her eyes, her whole face, if only her hands were not tied down. Instead, she bares her fangs and hisses threateningly, yellow eyes narrowing at the woman who stands with a grin on her face. Y/N sees her glance up, probably at Quaritch, before she looks back down at her with a mocking sadness face.

           “Very well then.” The woman says.

           Y/N growls lowly, chest heaving up and down as she does so, and she tugs at her bounds, ripping them in half with the strength she musters to gather. When her wrists are free, she flays them around in wide gestures, sending the woman beside her against the wall and almost immediately, Wainfleet rushes to make sure she is alright. Which leaves Y/N facing Quaritch when she stands up, legs wobbly from not using them for a while. She has to press a hand against one of the walls to keep herself up, but she manages to walk past the Colonel and exit the room. Her brow muscles pull in a frown, wondering why he would let her go while knowing that getting his revenge on her father is the most important thing to him, but she brushes the thought away, gathering her remaining strength to start running for the building’s exit. She finds it is harder than she thought, the building being large and foreign to her, but still she turns left, then right, praying to Eywa that she leads her out safely.

           Her head is fuzzy, and her limbs grow numb with each step she takes, bending down so that her 8 feet tall frame does not hit the ceiling above her. It is uncomfortable, but she pushes the sensation aside, her only thought in mind being her family, and how she must get back to them.

           Voices are shouting and screaming orders behind her, and she hurries herself, tears threatening to fall down her cheeks when anxiety rises to settle in her body. She lets out a frustrated scream when she reaches another dead end, and she pivots back to turn into another hallway that hopefully leads her to an exit, preferably an exit into her home, the rainforest where she’s grown up in.

           She can hear guns being loaded, and she takes bigger steps as she walks, but it does not do much as the fear catches up on her, slowing her down. She needs to catch her breath, but if she stops, she knows they will just grab her and throw her back in that room like she is nothing more than an object. She grunts before she takes a deep breath, and she begins to run again, even though the human oxygen burns her throat and lungs.

           Y/N’s ears twitch, and she dares a glance over her shoulders, to see the recombinant avatars with their guns in hand and firing bullets in her direction. They fly past her, and Quaritch barks orders to his team to aim better. She sees him aim his gun at her and pulling the trigger. She is quick, though, to dive left and avoid the bullet that flies past her, but more soon come her way, and she does not know how long she can hold on. Her legs are tired and weak, and her breathing is short and shallow, her lungs burning.

           The bullets ricochet against the walls and tiled ground, and Y/N grunts, fear and anger fuelling her body until a sudden pain travels through her body. She stills abruptly, hands instantly pressed against her side before she looks down and see the blood seeping through her fingers. The noises seem to die down around her as she leans against a wall, and she allows herself to move her hand to see the damage on her abdomen. A relieved sigh leaves her when she realizes the bullet only grazed her skin, although it still created a large gash on her body. She has heard enough stories from her father to know that if she loses a lot of blood, she might just not survive. Tears flood her eyesight and roll down her cheeks, and she leans her head back in defeat. She cannot run anymore, and even if she could, because of her injury, they would quickly end up catching up to her and make her prisoner again.

           Quaritch and Wainfleet reach her, and they both take her arms, lifting her up. Y/N manages a small hiss when they touch her, weakly baring her fangs at them, but their hands only tighten their grip on her.

           “Nice try sweetheart.” Quaritch mocks, looking at her with a sneering gaze. “Your only chance of getting out of here is if you tell us your father’s location.”

           Y/N glares at him, before she shakes her head. She would rather die than give away her father’s location. She wants to free herself from their grip, but tiredness creeps up on her, feeding her mind with thoughts of a comfortable bed and pleasant dreams. Her eyelids drop as she is dragged away, and the pain in her abdomen becomes a faraway memory when darkness swallows her whole.

           She wakes up a couple of hours later, and the first thing Y/N does is gasp, cold sweat lining at her forehead. Her beaded braids stick to the skin of her back, and there is a growing pain in her right side. She wants to press her hand against where it hurts on her abdomen, but she finds herself tied by zip-ties tightly wrapped around her wrists. She winces in pain when, with her movements, the ties rub against her already sore skin, and a string of Na’vi curses flow through her lips. She looks around, and she recognizes the room she tried to escape from. Then, she looks down and notices the white gauze wrapped all around her abdomen, and the patch of blood that stains it. She remembers to have been shot, and she wonders why they took the time to try to patch her up when they could just let her die to get back at her father. Perhaps Quaritch is the reason she is not dead yet, because he wants a face to face confrontation with her father, and to do so, Y/N has to be alive so he can use her as leverage. She groans in pain, human oxygen burning her throat once more when she inhales slowly.

           Y/N lifts her head up and glances up through half-closed lids, and her eyes narrow when she only sees humans facing her. They are all dressed in white blouses with blue and green paper masks covering their mouth and nose. Plastic blue gloves cover their hands up to their forearms under their wrists, and each of them hold a different instrument in their hands. Panic rushes through her body and mind and she snarls defensively, looking around for the woman she’d first seen before passing out. When she glances up at the plexiglass window ahead of her, Y/N sees her, the woman she’s been looking for. She stands tall and proud on her little podium, elevated from other Sky People around her, and she glares at the Na’vi girl through the glass.

           “There is nowhere to run, young lady.” She says, eventually. “Tell us where Jake Sully is, and we will let you seek the help you need.”

           Y/N snarls, and it is the only thing she does aside from glaring at the woman.

           “I see you have made your choice.” The woman smirks. “Well, I have heard that Na’vi bodies are stronger and more resilient than the human body. Let’s test that theory, shall we?”

           Y/N widens her eyes, panic and fear flashing behind her irises. Her first thought is not about what awaits her, but Neteyam, and the connection they share from being twins. Will he feel her pain, or will he be clueless to it? She doesn’t have time to give it much thought, however, because a large needle pokes through her thick skin and rips a cry from her throat.

           “Vonvä’!”

           Y/N snarls, trashing around on the bed as she shouts insults in Na’vi to the Sky People around her. She hopes they can hear the venom and desire for revenge in her voice, but as they stick more needles into her skin, she knows it is useless.

           Her eyes wander to the syringes poking out of her body, only to see them connected by plastic tubes that are linked to large bags filled to the brim with green fluids.

           The humans are small compared to her tall frame, but they manage to handle her body the way they want, the way they have been ordered to. She does not know what kind of things nor what sort of instruments they plan to use on her, but she can feel sharp blades piercing through her skin where the needles are lodged.

           Y/N gasps when her body shakes, and she glances down through half-closed lids to see sticky white patches glued to her chest, where black and red wires connect them to a monitor nearby. One of the humans has one of his hands on a large black button, and he turns it clockwise, sending an electrical shock through her body.

           The pain is sharp and renders her gasping for oxygen, oxygen she cannot breathe unless it hurts her more. Tears rolls down her cheeks as more shocks are sent through her body, the pain in her abdomen growing tenfold with it. She can feel the blood dripping down from the cuts they voluntarily made on her body, and through tears she can see one of the humans holding a vial with her blood inside. She snarls, but it comes out weak, merely a soft hiss as her eyes flutter closed. Her head falls back, the pain numbing every other feeling: the anger, and the fear. Her mind becomes fuzzy, thoughts blurring together until her parents’ faces flash behind her closed lids. She cannot even manage the faintest of smiles when she thinks of them, but still her lips move although her mind does not comprehend it.

           “Ngaytxoa sempu. Ngaytxoa sa’nu. Oe fmi.”

           Y/N mumbles, voice barely heard and understood, but it comes out as a silent message for Eywa to deliver to her parents. The movements of her chest slow down, and her ears twitch slightly upon hearing the faintest beeping sound beside her. She does not know what it means, and her brain shuts down everything surrounding her, a bright light behind her closed lids welcoming her into her unconscious.

           Eclipse is full then, and Y/N shivers from the rain that soak her body. She looks at her surroundings. The old shack is there, haunting in the night’s light with its broken window and the vines that curve and tangle themselves all around the abandoned trailer. She sees her siblings and Spider, all with their hands tied in front of them like she is, and with an avatar holding onto them from behind to prevent them from escaping.

           Y/N knows she has to do something, she has to help her siblings escape before they are taken to Hell’s Gate by the Sky People coming to get the avatars, but with her hands tied and without her bow and arrows, she is rendered useless, the only thing she can do is being quick and bite the avatar that holds her and hoped her siblings will follow her actions. She looks up when there is rustling through the brushes, and her eyes land on Kiri and Spider. Kiri shakes her head, reading her older sister like an open book, and Y/N’s lips fall into a pout as her brow muscles pinch together in a frown.

           “Watch our six.”

           She hears Quaritch say, and the avatar holding on both Kiri and Spider steps forward, gun aimed at the void and ready to be fired. Y/N grunts, seeing the gun so close to Kiri’s face, and she shifts around, looking for an opening. But the grip on her hair and queue is strong, the pressure sending pain through her skull, and she winces.

           “Txanfwìngtu.”

           Y/N mumbles to herself, glaring over her shoulder at the avatar behind her. He’s looking up to the sky, for a sign of the people he works for. Y/N knows it would be easy to kick him in the legs to free herself, but with a gun so close to Kiri’s face, she cannot risk it. She cannot risk Quaritch’s team threatening her siblings if she tries to defend herself.

          Her ears flattens against her scalp when a loud bird-like call echoes across the Pandoran forest. Tuk notices it first with Y/N, slightly jumping up and looking over her shoulder with a soft grunt. Her yellow eyes glow brightly under the Eclipse’s sky, hope hidden behind her large irises, but her lips are a thin line across her features.

          Kiri is the next one to hear the sound, her ears twitching, and she turns around slightly to exchange a knowing look with Spider. Lo’ak eyes widen in recognition when he hears the bird-like call, and he slightly turns to look at his older sister. He tilts his head when Y/N smiles knowingly and slightly nods her head, confirming what they are all thinking.

          There is silence then, but Y/N can sense the avatars being on edge. It doesn’t help that they might be as strong as her parents, without quicker reflexes than when they were humans, but she trusts her parents. Her lips quirk into a smirk when another bird-like call echoes, and she knows Neytiri is not far. She looks around, and her eyes land on a large tree trunk. Her mother hides behind, Y/N just knows. It seems that Kiri knows too, because she begins to say a prayer to the Great Mother. She knows what she is doing, creating a diversion it hope it creates an opening for her mother to shoot her arrows. It seems to work, because the avatar holding both Spider and Kiri gets angry and yanks Kiri back by her braid.

          “Shut up!”

          The avatar growls. It is followed by a quiet hiss through the wind and a thump when an arrow lodges itself into the avatar’s skull. He falls backwards, and both Kiri and Spider begin to run to safety as soon as they are free. Their hands are still tied, but Y/N smiles when she sees them beginning to disappear into the foliage of the forest. She looks up to the sky and says a silent prayer to Eywa for her parents to find them both.

          “Contact made!”

          Quaritch shouts as soon as one of his team’s members fall to the ground, and Y/N is pushed forward and away from the crossfire. She grunts as she struggles to free herself, but she sees the avatars taking their positions before they begin to shoot at the large tree trunk where Neytiri hides.

          Y/N turns her head when she hears Tuk call out for Lo’ak, and she watches as her little brother turns around to open a smoke bomb tied to an avatar’s belt. It hisses and green smoke begins to whoosh into the air, making the avatar cough. He then bites down onto the avatar’s arm that’s holding him, freeing himself in the process. Y/N’s eyes land on Tuk next, just as she bites down on the arm holding her in place.

          “You little shit!”

          The avatar, a woman, grunts and pushes Tuk forward. The little girl stumbles on her feet, but Y/N is quick to free herself by kicking the avatar in his legs, and she grabs onto Tuk’s arms, leading her away from the crossfire, following Lo’ak when he calls out to them both.

          “Tuk! Y/N! Come on!” Lo’ak says, running ahead.

           Y/N looks up to Lo’ak as he pushes Tuk forward to safety, and she urges forward to follow them when she hears Kiri grunts in pain. She pivots on her heels, gaze hardening on the avatar yanking her sister back by her queue, and she hisses in anger, before an arrow whooshes in the air and end its course in a light thwomp when it lodges itself between the avatar’s eyes. Y/N sees Spider hurrying back to Kiri, pushing her forward with a shoulder’s nudge, muttering “come along” under his breath.

           “In cover!”

           She hears Quaritch’s distant voice shouts, and Y/N snaps out of her anger, turning around to run further into the foliage, hoping to catch up with her younger siblings. She doesn’t look back, diving between low tree branches and large leaves that sprout up from the ground, but she has trouble keeping her balance. The ground is slippery from the rain, and although she knows her way around the forest, from countless hunting trips with Neteyam and her father, she has never ventured that far, and she doesn’t know her way around.

           It isn’t until she hears some rustling that she stops, holding her breath in anticipation. She doesn’t know what she’ll find, if it is one of her siblings, or if it is a creature of the night. She prefers the first option, because she isn’t prepared for the latter one. She does not have her bow and arrows anymore, leaving her defenceless in the face of danger. Beside, with her hands tied, she would not be able to do much anyway, even if she had her favourite weapon.

           “You and the Corporal have been pretty busy, haven’t you?” Y/N hears Quaritch’s distant voice, and she assumes he is talking with her mother. “Got yourself a whole litter of half-breeds.”

           She winces at that. She thinks of Kiri and Lo’ak, both born with five fingers instead of four like her, Neteyam and Tuk, but it does not mean they are any less Na’vi than them. She wants to turn back, stand in front of Quaritch and punch him right in the face for what he said, but her heart begs her to find her siblings. She begins to turn back, preparing herself to run once more, but she is stopped short when an avatar shouts “Na’vi” and the recom team opens fire once again. She pants and hisses, and she says a silent prayer to the Great Mother before she begins to run as far as she can.

           “Wiya!”

           Y/N curses under her breath as she trips on a fallen branch. She falls backwards and loses her balance, free-falling downward. Her head hits something sharp and hard as she falls, and her lids begin to feel heavy. Black dots invade her eyesight, and she lets out a pained groan before darkness surrounds her.

__

           Neytiri grunts, anger flashing in her eyes upon seeing the commotion of the crossfire. She pushes herself from the tree trunk where she hid, and she begins to run to safety. She stumbles lightly when a rocket explodes not far from behind her, but she keeps a strong grip around her father’s bow and arrows as she runs again. She sighs in relief when she spots Kiri and Spider, and she rushes towards them, helping her daughter to get Spider up and running again. But Kiri does not move when Spider is up, instead she looks down, watching as a blur of blue falls down near where she stands, and she cannot help the worry that settles in her bones. She cannot fully see them, through the rain and the night sky, but she hopes for the blur to be a dead avatar, and not one of her siblings.

          From the corner of her eyes, Kiri spots two avatar coming and following the blue blur down. She holds in her breath, watching as they disappear behind the brushes and foliage, her hands brought up close to her chest.

           “Kiri! Spider! Come on!”

           Neytiri’s voice pulls Kiri out of her thoughts as she is dragged away by her mother, Spider running in front of them.

           Suddenly, silence graces the Pandoran forest. Fires cease, and the only sound that can be heard is the rustling of leaves with the wind, and light footsteps against the ground. Tuk looks over her shoulder when she cannot hear anything, but Lo’ak urges her forward.

           “Go! Go! Go!” He speaks. “Come on, let’s go!”

           He runs faster, until he is forced to stop when he collides with a strong, taller body standing in front of him. Lo’ak looks up, worry flashing across his irises, but his gaze softens when he realizes it is his father, with his older brother.

           “Are you hurt?” Jake asks his son, holding onto his arm.

           “No, I’m fine.” Lo’ak answers, shaking his head.

           Jake then looks at Tuktirey, and he bends down to take her in his arms when he notices she begins to cry.

           “Tuk, are you hurt?” He asks her.

           Tuk shakes her head, before burying it in her father’s neck as she wraps her little arms around his shoulders.

           Breaking through the silence, planes roar above the forest, and claws are let down. Jake turns around, and from the corner of his eyes, he sees his sons do the same. They see the recom team led by Quaritch as they attach themselves to the claw, and one of them is holding a limp figure over his shoulder. Jake cannot say for certain who it is, standing from afar, but he lets out a relieved sigh when the plane leaves the area.

           “There, we’re clear.” He says to his children. “Is everyone okay?”

           Just then, Neytiri comes into view, with Kiri and Spider on her heels. Tuk runs into her mother’s arms as soon as Jake lets her down, and in turn he takes both Neteyam and Lo’ak in his arms.

           “It’s okay.”

           Jake whispers to his sons, just as he hears his mate thanking the Great Mother for the safety of their children. After a short while, Neteyam pushes away from his father’s embrace, and he looks around, hoping to give his twin sister a well-deserved hug. His brow muscles pinch together, gold eyes scanning the dark surroundings, and he holds his breath when he cannot see her familiar features.

           “Where’s Y/N?” He asks, almost sounding breathless. “Where is she?”

           Kiri slowly turns on her heels upon hearing her brother’s voice, moving her gaze from where the plane was minutes before to look at Neteyam with tears in her eyes. She holds her arms close to her chest, as if to protect herself, and she shakes her head.

           “They took her.” She murmurs, voice cracking. “They took her.”

           Neteyam stills and looks back to where the plane had just been. His face hardens as anger rises and settles into his bones, hands turning into fists at his sides. Jake looks back too, but only for a short moment before he kneels down in front of Kiri, taking her in his arms.

           “It’s alright, babygirl.” He tells her. “Alright, she’s a tough kid, your tsmuke.”

           Jake cradles his daughter’s head in his large hand as he brings her closer to him and, over Kiri’s shoulder, he glances up at his oldest son.

           “Neteyam.” He calls him. “Y/N’s gonna be okay. We’re gonna get her back, alright? We’re all gonna be okay.”

          Jake tells Tuk. He does not see the point in lying to her; she might only be seven years old, but he knows his daughter is far from being an idiot. She is smart, for her young age, and sooner or later she would notice her sister’s absence. When she tilts her head slightly, Jake smiles softly, and he takes her in his arms. She buries her face in his chest, and her soft sniffles turn his ears flat against his scalp. He sighs, running his hand up and down her back, and he turns his head to his eldest son.

          Neteyam is pacing around the tent, hands balled into fists at his sides, and his brow muscles are pinched together in a deep frown on his forehead. Sometimes, his body stills for a second and he winces, a deep, choked breath coming from his chest, before he resumes his pacing.

          Near him, Lo’ak is sitting on the floor with his face in his hands. Spider is next to him, his breathing mask tied around his face, and he exchanges with Kiri in hushed whispers.

          Neytiri leans against the wooden pillar that keeps the tent from flattening on the ground, and she keeps her eyes on Neteyam. Jake knows she worries, as does he, but she already lost so much because of the Sky People, and Jake knows his mate worry they might take their oldest daughter as well. He won’t let it happen though, he will do what he needs to do, to save his girl. And he won’t leave the forest without her. This family is his fortress, their fortress, and no one in this family gets left behind.

          Amidst the silence, a sudden gasping-sound pulls both Neytiri and Jake from their thoughts, and they look up to see their oldest son with his hands around his throat, gasping for air. Neytiri rushes to him first, because Jake still holds on to Tuk, who has fallen asleep in his arms, and he has to find a comfortable enough spot for her to rest. Still, he listens to his mate as she talks to their son.

           “Ma’itan, what is wrong?” She asks, and Neteyam shakes his head. “Breathe, Neteyam. In, and out.”

          “It’s not…” Neteyam breathes out. “It is not me, sa’nok.”

          A pause. Neteyam takes a deep breath, and sighs when he feels the air in his lungs once more.

          “Dad. Mom.” Neteyam says, panic laced in his voice. “I think something is wrong with Y/N.”

__

          When she opens her eyes, Y/N does not recognize her surroundings. She can hear multiple voices around her, but they all come out muffled in her fuzzy mind. Bright lights blind her, and she has to keep her eyes closed. The voices become clearer then, but she doesn’t understand everything. It isn’t Na’vi they speak, but the words are familiar, reminding her of when her father would get angry, and he’d curse and speak in this other language only their mother seemed to understand.

          Her eyes snap open, thinking of her parents, and she remembers. She had been in the forest, near the old shack, with her siblings and Spider, and there had been avatars. She remembers freeing herself and running away, trying to find her parents, but after that, her mind is blank. She doesn’t remember anything. Panic flashes in her eyes, and her body shudders. She looks around, slowly, taking in her surroundings.

          There are bright lights hanging from a ceiling, and something hard under her body. White walls surround her, and there is a small door on her right. It is left ajar, and she can hear voices come from behind. Nothing else is in the room, except for a mirror, and she can see her battered reflection in it. She is a blue stain in this white room, out of place. Looking at herself, Y/N notices the bruise that form on her cheekbone, a purple circle on her blue skin. Small cuts cover her features, her arms, and some are on her chest, visible through the beaded top she wears. She sees her hands tied in front of her, and in a rush of panic she tugs at her bond, crying out in frustration when it doesn’t budge. If the voices behind the door heard her, they don’t let her know it.

          Her chest heaves up as she takes a deep breath, and as it fills her lungs, she coughs. She shouldn’t be coughing, but she is, and the panic grows tenfold, tears lingering at her waterline and hands beginning to tremble slightly. The air burns her throat, and she has to fight the urge to scratch it, relieve herself from the unwanted itch in her esophagus. She knows the Pandoran air isn’t supposed to hurt her as she breathes, and it dwells on her with horror that she isn’t in the forest anymore.

          Y/N knows perfectly well where she is, from the stories her father used to tell her and Neteyam when they were younger, and her mind wanders to her twin, wondering if he can feel it too, the unbreathable air of the Sky People.

          Then, her mind wanders to her siblings, and fear rises in every fiber of her body. She shifts around, frantically glancing around her. Her breath quickens, and soon she is panting, heart constricted in her chest. She had been with Tuk and Lo’ak, from what she remembers. Have they been caught with her? Did she lead them into harm’s way? The tears begin to silently roll down her cheeks, breath heavier and shallower as she writhes around trying to escape her bonds.

          The leather strap around her waist finally snaps, and she falls down on her side in a heavy thud. Her frame is far too tall for a room this size, a human-sized room, and her knees and elbows keep on hitting on the walls around her.

          It seems that her movements have finally alerted the voices outside of the door ajar, and a tall blue figure steps inside the room. Y/N lifts her head up when she hears them clear their throat, and her brow muscles instantly turn into a deep frown on her forehead. Her eyes, green under the bright light, widen slightly, and she bares her teeth and fangs, snarling. It is a pained snarl, almost out of breath, and she has to cough to clear her throat. It brings more tears to her eyes, fear settling in all of her body, and she scurries away until her back collides with the wall behind her. Through her blurry vision, she can see a blue hand with five fingers reaching out for her, but her fight or flight instincts kick in and, although both her hands are tied, she manages to grab the person’s hand in both of hers, and she summons her whole strength to flip them away from her.

          “Don’t touch me!”

          Y/N snarls, hissing at the person laying on the ground and groaning beside her.

          “You’re his kid  alright.”

          She turns her head to the voice, and all previous emotions vanish from her face when she sees him, another avatar that looks like the alien her parents fought against during the first war with the Sky People. She knows them that it is him, somehow reincarnated into this blue body that looks like hers, to blend in with her people.

          Colonel Quaritch stands as a ten feet tall avatar, leaning against the doorframe and with his arms crossed across his chest. His lips form a smirk on his face, and he eyes Y/N with some sort of mischief hidden in his gold irises. He sees behind her than Wainfleet is getting back up, hands up in the air when Y/N glares at him from over her shoulder, and he walks around her to leave the room.

          Y/N swallows, and she knows that if she is here, and Quaritch is here, it means that he wants her for something. Or rather, for someone, and she knows exactly who that someone is: her father. Y/N bares her fangs at him, but he just laughs at her when she begins to cough again.

          “Hissing and snarling won’t get you anywhere, sweetheart.” Quaritch says, laughing.

          “Where are my siblings?” Y/N spits out, narrowing her eyes at him. “What have you done to them?”

          “Your siblings are none of my concern. You, however, might just get me what I want.”

          “Where are my siblings?”

          Y/N snarls, pausing between each word. Her hands ball into fists in her lap, and when she licks her lips, her fangs brush against her bottom lip in a dangerous display of anger. Quaritch’s smile falters, if only for a second, before he straightens his posture and inhales air through a mask linked to a metallic bottle hanging around his waist. Y/N knows what it is, remembering it from the countless times she went with Kiri and Lo’ak to visit Grace’s avatar and the scientists. It’s air to help the Na’vi breathe in human atmosphere, just like Spider’s mask help him breathe when he steps outside of the scientists’ lab.

          “I imagine your siblings are safe with your mummy and daddy.” Quaritch says, rolling his eyes. “Or they could be lost in the forest, what do I care? I have you, and you’re going to get me what I want.”

          Y/N hisses, baring her fangs. Struggling, she manages to get on her two feet, wobbling slightly when her head hit the ceiling and she groans in pain. Her heart pounds in her chest, almost begging her to inhale some respirable air from the forest, but the ajar door is now closed, and her only way of breathing the air of her home is through the mask Quaritch holds in his hand. And from the way he looks at her with a raised brow, an actual brow like her father’s, a distinct sign of the avatars, Y/N knows that Quaritch knows she needs to breathe through the mask.

          “I can get you one.” He says nodding down to the mask in his hand.

          It isn’t like the one Spider, or any of the Sky People, wears when he goes outside the lab. It’s small and transparent-green, covering the nose and mouth enough to inhale the air of Pandora. As a kid, Y/N always wondered how it was possible, and although Norm and Max have both explained it to her, she still cannot quite wrap her finger around the concept.

          “You will not.” Y/N coughs. “Unless you get something from me.”

          “You certainly didn’t get your wits from your father.” Quaritch scoffs but still he smiles. “You’re right, I need something from you. And if you are willing to help, you can walk out of here freely.”

          Y/N bares her teeth, hissing. Quaritch chuckles and shrugs his shoulders, shaking his head at her stubbornness.

          “I’ll be nice once, then I won’t.” Quaritch says with a smile. “If you don’t want to cooperate…” He pauses, crossing his arms over his chest, “it won’t be me you’ll have to deal with. I’ll let the Sky People do what they wish to get answers out of you.”

          Y/N doesn’t say anything, instead glaring at the avatar before her. She inhales deeply, her chest rising up and down as the air burns her throat and lungs and she begins to cough again. Tears prickle her eyes again, and her mind wanders to her twin.

          She wonders if Neteyam is as in much pain as she is, if he has trouble breathing like she is, or if his chest hurt as much as hers. She imagines her parents are near him and worried upon seeing him distressed, if he is, and she closes her eyes mumbling a prayer to Eywa to protect her family. She chokes back a sob, shoulders slumping.

          She doesn’t see it, but Quaritch has a victorious smile on his blue face, eyes glittering with mischief. He knows he has her, that she might just give up and give him what he wants. He certainly does not expect to see her lift her head high, eyes darkening and boring into his skull as if she were drilling holes into his forehead. Her lips are a thin line on her face, pressed together and the tip of her fangs manages to slip through. Her breath is slow and shallow, and her hands are balled into fists in front of her. She stands tall on her feet, back straight against the wall behind her, and her head tilted slightly.

          “All I need is your father’s location,” Quaritch says, walking up to her. “You give me that, and I’ll get you one of these masks.”

          He tells Y/N, showing her the transparent-green mask he holds in his hand, before he inhales through it. Y/N growls, teeth and fangs bared at him.

          “I would rather be a prisoner my whole life than tell you my family’s location.”

          Y/N snarls. She doesn’t doubt that her parents can take care of Quaritch, but it is her siblings and the People she is worried about. Neteyam can take care of himself, after all, he is a warrior just like her. She has no doubts about Lo’ak being able to defend himself, but he can be reckless at times, and he could easily get injured, especially if he’s fighting against military-experienced avatars like Quaritch. But Kiri and Tuk? She couldn’t risk her sisters being injured, or worse. She wouldn’t bare it, the weight of knowing something happened to them because of her. And the People? She knows how much her mother care for the People, how hurt she had been during the first war against the Sky People when so many lives were lost. She couldn’t risk it happening all over again, she wouldn’t. The People deserved to be at peace, after so many years of being invaded by the aliens.

          So, Y/N keeps her mouth shut, lips sealed into a thin line on her face as she glares at Quaritch, her orbs a swirl of yellow and green under the artificial white light in the room.

          “Very well then.” Quaritch turns to the one-way mirror behind him. “She’s all yours.”

          Y/N narrows her eyes when the Colonel takes one last look at her before he leaves the room and lock the door behind him, and then she glances to the mirror in front of her. Once again, she sees her battered and exhausted figure, chest heaving up and down at a slow pace, but each breath she takes is a burn in her lungs. How long can she last without breathing Pandoran air, she doesn’t know, she has never tried before. She feels the tears sting her eyes, and she tilts her head back to prevent them from rolling down her cheeks, blinking. She knows behind the mirror are the Sky People, waiting for her to let her guards down so they can do whatever they want with her to gain information about her father, but she will not give them satisfaction. Even if her body gives out, and they begin to torture her, she will not say a word to them.

          A trembling breath leaves through her lips as her body slumps against the cold wall behind her. Her legs are pressed against her torso, tied hands resting in her lap, and her beaded braids move back and forth slightly in front of her face. She is not afraid anymore, because now she knows where she is, and what they want from her, however she can sense the fatigue settling in her body to the marrow of her bones. She will not give up, and she tries to fight against her needs. She fights to keep her eyes open, to will herself to stay awake. But her body can only take so much, and the burning of her lungs makes it all the more difficult to stay awake. She thinks of her parents, and of her siblings, and she smiles, before her eyelids finally drop over her colorful orbs and sleep consumes her entirely.