"Mom said it was my turn to be cringe, but free."

The thrum of the Samson’s blades sounded almost like the hum of Kinglor wings with how muffled everything sounded, even more distant than the  familiar voices speaking in hushed, worried tones around them. Someone’s warm hands were smoothing worryingly over their face. Long fingers, four of them… Ri’nela? That was her voice right? They found themselves pressing into her palms as they shivered with clattering teeth. Why am I so cold?

“I’m getting down to four bags– Anqa, how much further to The Hollows?” 

Tamì'tey’s ears flicked at the voice, finding themselves surprised at how grave and solemn she sounded. Priya? You sound so worried. What’s wrong? 

“Two minutes out, just hang in there a bit longer- I see Banshee riders ahead.” Another voice replied, that must’ve been Anqa- Anqa, why is that so familiar again? Right, right- Priya and Anqa… 

No one noticed the delirious smile on their face, why did that make them happy again? 

Another chill crept down their spine and seeped deeper into their core, shivering uselessly in an attempt to warm up. Their brow crinkled as one of Ri’nela’s hands left their cheek to adjust the blanket over their shoulders, and she caught another glimpse of that hunk of metal sticking out of them when she did so. She swallowed that lump of worry in her throat, her hand fluttering back to Tamì'tey’s cheek, their face relaxed as they felt her warm palm cup their other cheek again, a shaky exhale of relief escaped them.

Their ears popped with the Samson’s descent, wincing in discomfort  as the hum of the choppers stuttered, allowing Tamì'tey to hear the muffled ikran screeches. One of them they could almost put a name to. It was on the tip of their tongue. Why couldn’t they remember?

The air got choppier as the Samson eased in for landing, mindful of the riders nearby. The blades of the Samson gave a high pitched whirr as Anqa cut off the engine, her hands quick to undo her seat buckles.

Tamì'tey had caught bits and pieces of the conversation they all had around them, feeling Ri’nela’s hand reach underneath their head to cradle it as she tenderly removed it from her lap- unable to completely spare Tamì'tey of pain due to the burns, but the poor Na’vi could only muster out a groan of pain- their face contorting with a grimace.

“--Going to help you, okay? —going to be fine.” They could tell it was Ri’nela was trying to be reassuring..

Tamì'tey wanted to comfort her in turn, but all could muster was an echo of “G-Going to be f-fine.” They sensed everyone in the Samson shift at the muffled sound of footsteps, and his scent caught their attention before even spoke- through all the blood, smoke, and ash that clung to him, they knew it was-

“How are they?”

‘So’lek…’ They could have wept if they had the strength for it, their eyelids fluttered weakly in a great effort to open them just even a sliver. An observer wouldn’t have even noticed their eyes being cracked open.

It was difficult to get their vision focused , eyes wandering  around the Samson, searching for him. They struggled to keep their eyelids from collapsing from the weight of their fatigue, but there he was– alive. 

Not a trick of the mind, not a dream.

They allowed their eyes to close, knowing Teylan must not be far behind.

“They have been falling in and out of consciousness–  but we only have four bags left — not much, they're bleeding — have much time.” Ri’nela’s voice cut through their thoughts. 

They must’ve been in dire shape after all. Funny, they used to wish for death near daily for most of their life. Now here they were wishing they had more time.

“We’re wasting time then.” The bluntness in his voice barely hid his concern, they felt everyone around them shift– all their hands delicately wrapping under their limbs to readjust them, his callused palms cradling themselves underneath their heels as he straightened their legs as carefully as he could in the stretcher. 

They were in and out of their awareness of it all. It was like they were weightless, floating in the ocean as they swayed in something they distantly recognized as a stretcher. The straps kept them suspended as they moved with everyone’s efforts, human and na’vi alike. 

“---to explain yourselves- come come, bring them along— . —people may come too.” That voice… Anufi, it had to be Anufi. They were in The Hollows weren’t they? Didn’t Anqa say that on the way in? 

They found themselves unable to maintain consciousness. They drifted off as they heard words but couldn’t process anything,, one moment floating- the next on solid ground, gently shifted about by many hands. That many hands would usually alarm them.

Were they not alarmed because they were safe? Or were they just too tired? Where were they again? They couldn’t remember, why couldn’t they remember? 

Am I dying?

Something that haunted Tamì'tey was something they had learned about the Human and Na’vi brain during their time in TAP. There were many similarities just as there were differences- but a key similarity was that in the way the brain shut down while dying. They thought about it often- how while Aha’ri was technically dead, she could still hear everything going on around her for at least the next eight minutes.

Did she wonder why she couldn’t move anymore? Why did her legs stop working? Why couldn't she reach out to comfort her little sister and the other Sarentu? Did it dawn on her that she was dying?

I don’t want to die. 

Not now, not yet. Death was inevitable for everyone, they knew this. But Tamì'tey didn’t feel finished. They had only just gotten their life back after spending thirty years of it rotting in TAP.

“I’m down to two bags–”

“Do not worry about that– Keep doing what you are— is working—” 

Working, what’s working? 

“They are fighting hard to–.  —the blood, Priya.” 

Right– They’re at the Hollows, they’re safe– Their friends are fighting for their life right now, they are not dying.

“Tamì'tey, we’re all here— So’lek is here, he went looking— all over— we were all–” Priya, that had to be Priya talking, right? Her poor voice. 

As their awareness started to ebb with their unconsciousness, Tamì'tey at least found themselves resting just a little easier.

…

Captivity was already bad enough, captivity with the RDA was worse, and to top it all off- the only person they had ever had trust or faith in to keep them safe was now dead.

And it had been all their fault.

The image replayed over and over again in their head as So’lek careened through the glass- falling into the unknown through the collapsed gymnasium floor. Even if that fall didn’t kill him,  the bombs that they pelted the remains of TAP with would have.

A small part of themselves dared to hope he was alive, but the more logical side- the “human” side, they called it- the one that ran the calculations, the odds, the strategies in their head– it told them that there was just no possible way he could have survived all that.

They got So’lek killed like they did Aha’ri, and his death left Tamì'tey only the sensation of being completely hollowed out from the grief, with the fear for their scattered family, and the painful awareness that they were locked up miles underground- unable to help them.

Aha’ri didn’t recall anything about TAP, nor did she remember how she died.

So’lek won’t remember how he died, either.

The thought made their eyes sear from the tears that welled up in their raw eyes, keeping their face low and angled away as much they could away from the mechanical eyes of the RDA hanging from the ceiling. 

Tamì'tey could only pray to the Great Mother that their family was alright- they didn’t really give a damn if they personally even got out of this alive at this point if it meant they all were okay. Although their death wish wasn’t entirely altruistic, if they died right now at least they wouldn’t remember how So’lek died, or the horrors they were sure they would soon endure.

Speaking of horrors…

Footsteps, several pairs of them- one of them belonging to a skelesuit, their best guess was that it was Bukowski.

Their stomach lurched to their chest as they squeezed their eyes shut with a sharp inhale- hissing to themself to force their legs to gather up underneath them. They would not meet their tormentors on their knees.

Their cell had little privacy, a big glass pane served as the front of it- too thick to break. The rest of the walls were thick concrete on all sides, the white halogen lights blared overhead- washing out further the dull grey walls of their personal hell.

They felt like an animal on display as the beady, small eyes of the humans peered into their cell- gripping assault rifles as they flanked Bukowski and– that Mangkwan– What was his name? 

“Remember, Wukula. The rules.” Bukowski’s warning was a thinly veiled reminder to him, the Na’vi was still a couple heads taller even with Bukowski in the skelesuit. Tamì'tey didn’t like how Wukula seemed to sneer at Bukowski’s reminder, replying with a roll of his pale yellow eyes.

“I will abide, still- this will not be pretty. Your rules allow me to interrogate them how I like.”

Tamì'tey felt bile burn the back of their throat as their back pressed against the wall- starting to ease themself to the right, they really didn’t like the sound of that- and it was only made worse by Wukula’s gaze snapping towards them with a look in his eyes.

The look sent an all too familiar chill of dread down their spine, they hated how their breath caught in their throat and their tail instinctively wrapped around their leg- something they hadn’t done since they were sixteen.

Cursing themselves for showing such childish weakness- their ears laced back as they hissed at them all, trying to drag Wukula’s eyes back to their gaze, and his grin just twisted with delight at their attempt to intimidate him.

“Leave us.” Wukula demanded, not even so much as glancing at Bukowski as the guards exchanged a look at each other, shifting their glares to Bukowski as he raised his arm up to make a circle- gesturing for the others to follow him out.

As the humans made their exit, Tamì'tey refused to blink as they glared at Wukula from where they were pressed, their nose twisting with the beginnings of a snarl while the door to their cell hissed closed. 

“Tìterkup sìn Tsyalx.” Wukula greeted them with their title, and if they were not mistaken his tone was somewhere between being impressed and being amused, as if there was a part of him that had a hard time believing this was Death on Wings. “I do not meet many Na’vi with a reputation that precedes them.” 

They offered no reply as their tail lashed around, and Wukula hummed amusedly as one of his hands idly slid over the hilt of his knife, he didn’t look directly at them while he paced slowly in front of them. It did not take them long at all to notice that with each lap, he drew closer.

There had to be a way out of here, right? There was always a way out if they just— tried hard enough. 

“Your silence does nothing for you, warrior. It will only make things worse if you do not talk. And I will find out one way or another if all the things they say about you are true.”

Tamì'tey wearily watched Wukula as his hand slowly reached up towards the back of his head, at first- they thought- to scratch his neck. But it wasn’t to scratch his neck, it was to grab his braid- dragging it over his shoulder with a nasty grin that only contorted further in glee as he saw Tamì'tey’s defiant expression drop.

…

It was not a feeling they were unfamiliar with, the sensation of awareness without consciousness. Even the reverse. Usually, it would alarm Tamì'tey to feel trapped in themselves like this, and yet this time they felt nothing of the sort. 

Despite the little, nagging feeling they should.

Why?

Tamì'tey tried to will their limbs to move. Pain responded. They couldn’t even open their eyes, but they could hear and smell their surroundings at least. It didn’t smell like blood, ash, or singed hair and flesh anymore. It actually smelled like…

‘The Clouded Forest…’ The scent of wet stone, damp moss, fog and rain… accompanied with an aching feeling for a home that doesn’t exist.

They tried to wrack their mind for any recollection of how they could have gotten here, but the fog kept them from thinking too hard about it, much to their frustration.

Their ears wanted to twitch at the sound of someone shifting, barely audible enough for them to even hear it. But the scent that brushed across their nose made them want to burst into tears with relief.

‘So’lek!’

When they found out he was alive from Bukowski, nothing could have prepared them for how that made them feel. For weeks they had been hollowed out. The only other person they trusted to keep them safe was dead. They had gotten him killed just like they had Aha’ri, their miscalculation had sent him tumbling to his death, it had been their fault again. 

Or so they had thought.

They didn’t dare weep, not then. Not in front of those cameras. Though they certainly wanted to weep with relief now. Even with Bukowski’s supposed assurances that he had never meant for Wukula to take things that far, they didn’t believe him. And they didn’t let themselves believe for a second that Wukula would even bother listening.

“I will return, ma yawne…”  There was an edge of softness to his voice that made them want to melt, his calloused hand cupping their cheek, dragging his thumb to tenderly swipe over the mark on their cheek. Just like he had after he pulled them from the wreckage, they recalled fuzzily. 

‘Yawne?’

It echoed in their head. They were quite sure they didn’t hear him right as they felt his weight next to them shift while he rose to his feet, his hand dragging away from their cheek as he drew himself to his full height.

Tamì'tey tried then again to will their eyes open, but the more they did  the heavier they got. They were tiring themselves out just from the exertion of trying to open their eyes, forcing them to remember the state that they were in.

Right, they got blown up. Again. Except this time they were not so lucky as to get away with mild injuries this time.

They wanted  to follow So’lek as they listened to his muffled footsteps depart, and the brief frustration at being unable to do so were quickly forgotten when they felt something warm and small settle behind their knees.

‘Oppy? That has to be Oppy. He always sleeps back there.’ 

And as if to confirm their suspicions they felt the kick of his back feet in his sleep, shifting around while his little sensory whiskers twitched and felt about as he adjusted himself.

They wished they could reach down and rub his ears like they always do when they first wake up in the– wait, was it even morning? The sun was not up yet, that much they could tell- the air still had a slight chill that later in the day did not have, and there was a certain way the air cooled their lungs that told them the morning fog was rolling in.

Whether an unfortunate talent or not, Tamì'tey was good at being able to tell whose footsteps belong to who. The next incoming pair footsteps were not So’lek’s, and the mingling scents of Okul and Anufi reached them before their voices did.

“Will you go prepare the fat for me, please? I will check on our guest.” Anufi’s voice was low in a whisper.

“Already ahead of you, want me to prepare the poultice as well?” Okul’s voice moved as he did , their mental map of where they lay in the Healer’s Den becoming more clear as they heard his feet pause by the workstation.

‘Yea- that poultice would be really great right about now, actually.’ Tamì'tey thought, their jaw felt tight despite not being able to grit their teeth in pain. ‘Thanks, Okul.’

They remembered vaguely that Anufi mentioned once that Meer Deer fat had many uses, chief among them being useful to treat burns.  Remembering this made them more aware of the fact that there were burns on their back. They hurt.

“I do not see why not, your poultices are just as good as mine.”

Okul chuffs at that, but Tamì'tey can hear Anufi’s tail thump against his leg.

“It is not just flattery, you do good work.” Her matronly scolding would’ve gotten a smile out of them were they able to.

“When it comes from the best, being told mine are as good as yours is high praise.” They could hear the smile in Okul’s voice as he gathered what he needed, the soft thud of supplies landing on their work surface. 

“Perhaps I could include some of the Tana’ring in the poultice. So’lek mentioned it is good for pain, is it not?”

Anufi hummed as her footsteps neared Tamì'tey, crouching down next to them as she reached out to press the back of her fingers to their cheeks and forehead. 

“No fever, good- very good…” She murmured to herself, before addressing Okul. “It would not hurt to add. Maybe crush some of them up into the fat as well?” 

Okul hummed in agreement as he started grinding the pestle. The crunch was different- fresher plants, not dried ones. 

“Good call yesterday.” Anufi commented, a playful edge in her tone as Tamì'tey felt a pair of fingers trace a line up their inner arm, stopping just under where their thumb met their wrist and pressing in gently to check their pulse.

“Good call on what?” 

“You know what I am talking about.”

Okul chuffs again. “He needed to rest.”

…

“Ohh- fine, yes. Put that eye away. It was also so he could spend time with them. That skxawng still drags his feet with them.”

There's a heavy sigh from Anufi as she tucks a stray hair behind Tamì'tey’s ear, before standing up. “That he does… Still, the flowers look nice braided in.”

‘Flowers?’

That’s what that smell was, flowers- tana’ring? Braided into their hair by So’lek? As much as the thought stirred warm flutters in their chest, it was accompanied by a heavy dread. When he found them, Wukula had ruined their braid in what must have been weeks ago- and proper grooming wasn’t much of a high priority when their cell didn’t even have a shower. 

‘What did he think of me? Does he know?’

Thankfully Oppy stirred again, shaking Tamì'tey from their spiral. He tunneled his way out from underneath the blanket just as Anufi had lifted it to check Tamì'tey’s bandages.

“Ah! there you are little jumper. The sun is almost up, I bet you are just famished.” Anufi cooed to the Hì'spä as she reached over to offer him a good rub of his ears before Okul came over with the poultice.

Anufi took it with a grateful nod to the Tsakarem before he returned to their task of whipping what smelled like Meer Deer fat.

Tamì'tey feels a finger brush their lips again. Despite the familiar scent in their nose their first instinct was to bite at something they couldn’t see, for a snarl to twitch onto their face as that lip was gently lifted by a finger- feeling it press along their gums as Anufi checked the color of it.  Even instinct could not override the medicine, it seemed- nothing could stir their limbs or twitched even a tiny muscle on their face. Trapped in their own body, for better or for worse.

‘What if the RDA attacks us here and I can’t wake up to help? Even if I did, would I even be in the condition to fight?’

“Could you work on removing their bandages for me please?” Anufi asked. Her finger hooked under Tamì'tey’s tongue, removing the partially dissolved leaf packet void of its contents. She wiped it off on a rag, before taking the new packet and tucking it on the other side of their tongue this time.

The relief wasn’t as instantaneous as Tamì'tey wanted, but it at least came swiftly. It started as a strange, warm, tingling in the tips of their fingers and toes, blooming down their extremities. Their head felt abuzz and floaty. It was comparable to the feeling they got from Zeswa Zangke or the Sawtute’s Opiates.

Their whole body felt numb now, but with how much everything hurt everywhere, they weren’t going to complain. That numbness, no matter how much it could remind them of some of the shit they gave them at TAP… It was not as fresh as what caused them pain now. 

In a cruel and twisted way, this numbness was comforting. Some sense of sick and fucked up childhood nostalgia for the hell they went through.

‘What they all went through.’

Sleep was starting to pull them back down when So’lek’s scent and soft footsteps caught their attention, faintly hearing someone’s knife tearing through a layer of bandages as Anufi greeted So’lek. She sounded like she was speaking behind glass, but Tamì'tey could make out enough of what was said.

“So’lek— did you sl— ? Ahh, good- good… I saw you— the salve I made–?”

“—Slept fine—” Tamì'tey could tell he was lying from the subtle shift in his tone, but not much else. Everyone sounded like they were speaking from another room now, getting further and further away as they drifted off.

…

“I'll need help with my name.”

“Help how?” So'lek asked the question “Do you want a new one?” Not to rush them, but to help them along. There was no readiness to his acceptance, it just was. Like it was simply a correction to a misunderstood fact. 

Tamtey wouldn't know it, but the small smile of euphoric contentment on their face was being quietly committed to the memory of the warrior sitting next to them. 

“Mm...” Tamtey hums uncertainly in response, tail tip twitching in their lap as their hand toyed with the end of it. 

“I don't hate my name, y'know? But… It also just doesn't quite feel right…” Their legs swing underneath them as they start to brainstorm openly. “It means ‘bringer of calm’ and it’s one of the few connections I have left to my mother…”

They perk up with an idea. “Maybe… I could make it more like yours and Aha'ri's?...”

“Make your name more like…” He didn't quite understand why that hit him so hard. His tail freezes, the rest of his expression following suit for that split second he hesitated. “Aha'ri's and mine how, exactly?” 

“A tìftang! Your names both share one, I figured there must be a way to do something with my name like that.”

Tamtey watches  So’lek’s ears perk up a bit as he seems to mull over his response, giving a thoughtful hum while his tail tip twitched.

“Do you want ideas? Or is this something you would rather find on your own?” 

“I think I wouldn’t mind hearing anything you got to suggest.” Tamtey smiled in reply. He at least was not half-bad at naming animals, Iley had a perfectly respectable name for an ikran.“I am a bit stumped.”

So’lek was quietly touched to be entrusted with something as important as their name, truth be told. It made him nervous. This was a name they would potentially carry for the rest of their life. 

It had to be good.

“How about… Tame’o? It means ‘front of calm.’” 

“Mm… You got anything else?”

“Tama’ie? This one means ‘vision of calm’”

They hum a little bit at this suggestion, but their hand gestures suggest it as a “maybe” for them.

“What else you got?”

“Tamy’e. It translates to ‘full of calm’”  Tamtey worried they were irritating their mentor, but his voice never betrayed such feelings. It was something they quietly appreciated about him- how patient he was.

“Still not quite it… Irayo, for your help with this.”

“It is quite intimidating, to tell the truth. I have never named Na’vi.” So’lek admits a bit sheepishly, a tiny smile tugging at their lips as he scratches at the back of his neck. 

“Neither have I.” 

He chuffs and feels his cheeks get a little warm, his eyes trailing down to the forest floor as he mulls over the ideas he has had so far and their name… 

One popped into his head, but it seemed almost too simple of a change for such a momentous decision. “Mmm… You might not like this one either.”

“Try me anyways!”

 “Tamì'tey, Tamì for short… It is not too far off from your given name.”

“Tamì'tey…” They repeated with a growing smile, eyes lighting up like the dawn as they looked over at him.

Their expression told him they found their answer. 

Their name.

“That’s actually– Perfect. Tamì'tey… And– Tamì sounds a lot like Tommy.” The corners of their eyes crinkled with their grin, catching sight of the identical smile that So’lek returned. 

“Is that a good thing for you?” He gently asks.

They nod. 

“Mercer would hate it.” Tamì'tey draws their elbow up onto their knee as they brace their heel on the branch, adjusting how they sit. “That is not the only reason I like it of course but– He used to call me Tammy all the time. Not that is how you even say the ‘Tam’ in Tamtey…” They have to actively suppress a shudder as they recount this, their eyes averting away from him with a small grimace “I only ever was just a girl to him, he was always– weird with the women. Even Harding and Alma.” 

As Tamì'tey said this, pain started to bloom at the back of their head. like some kind of vicious scratching on the inside of their skull, clawing its way up their kuru. 

It’s disconcerting. Discombobulating. 

Where’s it coming from?

They looked to So’lek for help and were met with nothing but dead air. 

They noticed the dead silence of the forest around them as that pain in their head grew, followed by a voice they distantly recognized with a terrible dread.

“ENOUGH OF THIS DISTRACTION! SHOW ME!” The voice roared as they tumbled out of the tree and onto the stark gray floor of their cell with a wheeze- the force from the fall was actually Wukula stomping on their diaphragm, and he relished in the sensation of the air getting knocked out of them as his heel dug in. Their eyes dragged over to his hand, loosely holding his own braid while his thumb casually stroked where their tswins joined. 

“Is anything really your own?” Wukula mused, crouching down to their current level as they tried pushing themselves away from him with their heels, his foot pressed still on their chest.

Tamì'tey remembered where they actually were now as they wheezed for air, the glare of those wretched white lights framing the outline of Wukula above them- at first making out only his pale eyes as they bore into them. He lifted his foot off their chest with a chuckle, making idle observation of them catching their breath as they thrashed in their restraints.

He loved how trapped and helpless they felt, they were fighting so hard to not show it- he could feel they knew there was no point to hiding it with what he could feel through the bond, he also knew they weren’t so easily going to give him that satisfaction. 

“Did the humans tell you to use restraints? Do you always do what the humans tell you to do??” Tamì'tey snarled out behind their muzzle, their spittle and breath fogging up the plastic- it was making it more difficult to breathe than it already was. They noticed earlier that Wukula had a mask he took breaths out of, and that terribly familiar burn in their lungs- like something heavy sat atop their chest and it took all their effort to use their lungs. They came to the terrible conclusion: they tweaked the air in their cell, not enough to completely suffocate them- but just enough to assist in their ongoing restraint and torture.

“Or were you afraid of me?”

Wukula pursed his lips at their deflection in amusement, making little mental notes of their defiance to reward with punishment later- despite their bond being completely one-sided, Tamì'tey could see something prowling behind his eyes that deeply unsettled them.                   

“Make no mistake, it is you that is afraid of me.” Wukula had a cold, mellow tone in his reply- allowing his thumb to curl over the tswins once more, pressing more on Tamì'tey's side to elicit a reaction- and much to his delight, he felt their disgust as they gave him one, their breath hitched in their throat at the unexpected pleasure- their nails dug into their palms like an old habit, biting back both flashbacks and a moan, forcing a growl to wobble out of them instead.

He took utter delight in that flare of hatred he felt bubbling through the bond, boiling deep in their belly- a feeling they both were familiar with, he could tell with the way it brought them some comfort.

“You know, when we are done here with our mission- you would make a fine Mangkwan. My people could use someone like you.” He reaches for them, snatching their face by the jaw as they try to wretch it away- his lips pulling back in a growing grin as he felt the pain bloom at their jaw, the muzzle digging in as his grip tightened. “I have seen you, the echoes of your actions at least, the sawtute have shown me the devastation you are capable of.” It was delicious, the horror and denial he felt at their words- absolutely recoiling at it as he relayed some of what he saw.

“You can deny it all you like, but I know there is a part of you buried deep, even now- that relishes in it, the pain you cause.” Admittedly the Mangkwan himself felt disappointment and disgust at how Tamì'tey recoiled at their own memories- the art of their own destruction that he found beautiful was completely wasted on them. Effortlessly, they had crushed the skulls of the sawtute like fruit, rendering their clay like flesh, lingering to stare just a little too long at the fire in their wake.

Wukula did not allow for much of himself to bleed through the bond, anything he allowed Tamì'tey to See was because he wanted them to See it, and he painted for them what was a grand vision for him- and a nightmare for them: Tamì'tey smashing skulls, Na’vi skulls- they swore they felt the hot spatter of blood as it popped underneath their hands. Followed by their knife digging into a belly, but not just any belly- they were face to face with Kanat, his warm blood gushing over their hand as they dragged it upwards, the Olo’eyktan’s eyes rolling into his head while his guts were rendered from him, writhing out of his body like worms.

The worst part was how real it felt, how hot his blood was as it coated their hand and arm, tearing that knife up to his chin as he collapsed forward onto his knees with a gasp- his last breath of air exhaled out of him, his pupils blotting out his golden irises like the moon eclipsing the sun. 

“Remember what he said about your mother? How he almost struck you down, in spite of you time and time again doing your best to save him and his foolish people? Insult after insult from this old fool, and you tolerated it?” Wukula sneers as he watches them reel from the vision, stiff as a plank as they jerked and twitched about. They uselessly tried to shove him out of their own head as their lips curled in a snarl, despite this- he could hear the pleas for it to stop in their head. He didn’t need the bond to know that there were tears brimming behind their squeezed shut eyes. 

He wanted to force open their gaze to his own as they pushed back against the bond. Wukula reached to the base of their twsins and pinched, one of his own tricks could guard himself against from the sudden, sharp pain that stabbed up Tamì'tey’s kuru- ripped out of the vision as a scream tore out of their throat, their first real scream Wukula had earned from them. Their eyes flew open, his voice in the back of their head demanding they look at him- and the effort to resist failed as they met those wretched eyes. 

“First of many I will get to hear from you.” He actually purred and they wanted to be sick, the hand still holding their jaw tightened before he tossed them backwards, raising himself back to his height as he took his foot off of their chest- listening to them cough and wheeze- for a brief moment they felt relief in their lungs that wasn’t their own, and when they looked over to Wukula they saw him take a deep inhale off of that mask- making out his twisted grin behind the plastic.

“Fhufck yuh nd fuhck yuhr sthuid mihd games.” Tamì'tey slurred out while they rolled onto their side, letting out a wheeze. Wukula relished in their flare of annoyance and disgust as they kicked out at him, which he saw coming of course, grabbing their ankle as it struck out. He knew they knew that would happen too, yet they did it anyways- desperate for any kind of control in this situation where they had none.

Tamì'tey winced at the feedback from the intercom as it cut on, hearing the sigh drag out of the human they knew now as Bukowski- his voice crackling over the intercom:

>“Wukula, quit playing with the Prisoner, please. We need information, stay on task.”

Wukula took a glance at the glass, which reflected him at the moment rather than letting him see through it- but he knew Bukowski was just on the other side of it.

“Hmph.” He growled, ears flicking with annoyance at being told what to do, but he rolled his shoulders and threw their leg down. “You heard him, I cannot keep playing with my food.” Tamì'tey hissed at him to disguise that chill that raced down their spine, but he felt it- the bond hid nothing from him that he didn’t want to See.

Tamì'tey tries pushing away from him on their heels again, kicking out at him their tail lashed around- but the Mangkwan brushes their attempts aside and grabs them up by their elbow with one hand, hauling them up to their feet as he drags them back over to the interrogation table.

                                                       —

One moment, they’re miles underground in a tiny cell, stuck with an absolute monster that made what Mercer did seem tame. So’lek is dead, their clan and family are scattered, and their home is under attack yet again from the RDA, with support from their own kind- the Mangkwan. It really felt as if everything was lost.

Slowly, however… Tamì'tey was no longer plagued by the stench of Wukula, nor the stink of the sterilizing chemicals the humans used to clean their facilities, reminding them of the medical ward at TAP. Their ears were not being assailed by the constant hum of the electricity in those awful lights, which were kept on at all hours- not even allowing for them to get adequate sleep. 

Now they weren’t there- though it took them a moment to remember where exactly, this time they felt even more groggy as they “awoke”- so much so that they felt like they could drift off to sleep any second if they didn’t keep focus.

‘I am not going to be able to keep this up for long. Am I going to have these kinds of dreams the whole time? Who am I kidding? Of course I am- what kinda question is that?’

Nightmares were not a new thing to them, but these were less dreams and more like their brain replaying the events of the past for them- rather than taking the new nightmare material and making new, fucked up dreams from that. They did not know which was worse, reliving it exactly as it happened, or some kind of twisted distortion of their own subconscious creation.

‘I need to focus on something else.’ Dwelling on it was not going to help them while they were awake. Tamì'tey decided to get their bearings as they came more and more to, at least able to somewhat hear and smell around them.

There were– voices? Those were indeed voices, a lot of them together. Though they could not quite understand what any of them were saying, they all sounded familiar in a comforting way that allowed their heart to settle.

The scents- there were so many they could not single out any of them at first, but they were accompanied by the same familiarity the voices brought, and as they focused more- they could just start to make them out.

“Careful, children- please do not step behind them, you might step on their tail. Here- I will help you with that.” That voice, in the way it was steady and gentle but firm. It had to have been So’lek’s- that was the scent of the rain on sun-baked earth they smelt.

There was a chorus of little voices, and Tamì'tey started to sense the little vibrations in the ground from their tiny feet stamping just a couple feet away from them. 

“Oops!”

 “Sorry!”

“Do you think they will like my drawing?” 

There could have been a smile curled on their face if they could move, though that did not keep them from feeling the little shimmyflies fluttering in their chest.

“They will love it. Looks just like Oppy.” So’lek assures the little artist, hearing the smile in his voice.

Speaking of the Little Jumper, Oppy himself seemed to perk up at the sound of his name, making his presence known by tunneling out from underneath the blankets, churring with interest as his whiskers wiggled inquisitively- plying themselves along the nearest surface.

Tamì'tey’s ears could have flattened at the excited squeals the children let out- Oppy was always a hit with the kids, turns out rabbits or rabbit-like creatures were beloved by children universally. 

“Here, how about you three keep Oppy company for a bit?” 

“Really?!” Followed by one of the other children gasping in excitement. 

“Can we feed him snacks??” One of the children asked particularly eagerly.

So’lek hummed. “Well, it is very nearly dinner time for him, you could feed him some grubs. Anufi has him some by the workbench in that jar there, see?” They figured he must have gestured to it, and they hear the children chatter over one another as they clamber over to Anufi’s workbench. 

Tamì'tey started to wonder why So’lek was having the children relocate- feeling Oppy relocate himself as he heard the sound of the grub lid being lifted. Though, they soon had their answer as the scent of their fellow Sarentu clanmates brushed against their nose- including a scent they hadn’t smelt in over a year.

Their heart skipped a beat, the only thing they could do was lay there with a thousand questions as Nor’s scent mingled with the others- how long had he been back for? Where has he been? What did he discover on his journey while away from them? 

Those questions and more swirled around their head as the rest of the Sarentu clan entered the den, much to their relief- everyone was there: Rasi, Teylan, Ri’nela, and Nor. They had been uncertain of Rasi’s fate since their rescue. 

‘Everyone's okay, they're all actually okay?’

It felt too good to be true, even as they heard their family speak amongst themselves while settling in around them, all their scents mingling in their nose with an aching familiarity. They recognized Rasi's fingertips as they brushed along their hairline with matronly concern, quietly humming a familiar tune- hearing her quietly muse under her breath to herself about the flowers woven into their hair.

It put their mind at ease to hear Nor and Teylan making conversation with one another, even if they could only make out snippets of it through the other conversations being had around them.

‘Something about looking like me… And?... Nilla wafers? That sounds like a mylar bag crinkling.’

They couldn't even muster a twitch of their eyelids thanks to the stuff that Anufi had them on, which beckoned and pulled at them to fall back asleep. They really did not want to go back to sleep, to the nightmares- they wanted to stay here with their family.

‘Damn it– I don’t wanna keep doing this, I want to wake up already!”

Still they felt the pull, the voices were getting harder and harder to discern what they were saying, conversations were being had around them and they couldn’t be part of any of them- it made frustration bubble in their chest. 

The last thing they managed to overhear with clarity was the sound of Teylan’s fingers eagerly tapping around on his datapad, they did not hear Nor’s eyes twitching with every tap.                   

“Look at this picture Tamì took of a Thanator!-”

“Palulukan.” Replied Nor.