studies in bed, sleeps on the floor

Your brain is still grasping for an order of priorities to be thought and uttered out.

“Screw you,” you finally say, all the while blindly reaching for your gym bag to pay for the ride. Jesse holds up one arm wordlessly, showing that he's grabbed all your stuff out except you, and that motion alone actually renders you speechless yet grateful at the same time. But again, your brain's not there yet, and all you could think about doing next is to say screw you again.

“Ride's paid.” Your boyfriend nods to the direction of your shared apartment. “Come on baby, get outta there.”

Offering his hand like a true gentleman, Jesse hauls you out of the cab and slams the door closed without another word to the droid driver. The speeder zooms off to the sparse traffic before taking the turn to the main one, leaving the both of you in front of your apartment.

“What the hell was that noise?” you finally get to ask after gathering your memories for the past three minutes, the both of you walking to the door.

Jesse frowns. “What noise?”

“Sirens?” you ponder.

He snorts. “Nah, that's just the cab’s nav. Tells the driver a passenger nearby is requesting a lift.”

Dazedly punching your code in, you enter your shared apartment without further accidents. Awesome. Jesse drops your bags somewhere. Finally home, the couch is pretty enticing to fall back asleep on, but somehow with Jesse here you can't. It's almost like you're about halfway recharged. Since it's home, it's like you have another errand to run before you allow yourself to rest.

“Yeah but who set it up like CSF is nearby?”

“It's been like that for ages, baby.” You're about to throw in a follow-up question on how he knows, but Jesse races you saying, “Woke you up, though.”

With all the energy left in your body, you give him a stare, wishing that you slap and kiss the smirk out of his mouth instead. “Seems wrong that I always trust you to wake me up.”

He departs to the kitchen, the smirk still there—even blossoming into a grin that you can hear the smile in his voice. “Shouldn't do that.”

“War’s over, Jes,” you roll your eyes, but as you say that out loud it's a sense of relief and peacefulness. You follow him to the kitchen. “Society is re-learning to trust each other.”

Jesse catches you halfway, moving naturally faster than you since you're still exhausted, a glass of water in his hand and he's offering it to you. As you drink the cool liquid in slow sips, Jesse snakes his hand up to your waist and tugs you an inch closer. He keeps his gaze locked at you, something deep and adoring swimming in those amber browns. You notice, and lower your glass.

“What?”

A single huffed laughter, lifting the corner of his lips sweetly. “You just don't make sense.”

The happy pitch in his tone makes you feel silly, makes you laugh. Jesse always has that kind of energy around him, especially around you. He may seem a grump with a stick up his ass the moment his fight or flight instincts pop in, but you adore him all the same. You both lean into each other, a natural movement as if you could read each other's thoughts and be aware of what the other wants, and then you let yourself have a taste of his lips, the very one thing that could never bore you.

“Was I really drooling?” you blurt out the first thing that bulldozes its way to the front of your mind.

Jesse exhales a laugh. “Nope, but I don't think I've seen a droid being so passive-aggressive.”

You're drowning in his charming, yet such a smartass smile for a second. “What—passive-aggressive?”

“Pissed.”

“Oh.”

“I opened the door knowing that was you and it straight up demanded if I knew you somehow and that you should pay for the ride so he could take off to grab another passenger.”

You roll your eyes and slightly reel yourself away from him. “They're droids.”

“Watch out, baby.” Jesse’s hands grip your waist. “That might be some kind racist comment.”

“Jes.”

Innocently, he steals a quick kiss. “Anyway how was your day?” Your boyfriend moves away from you to open the conservator. You stare at him in disbelief. “Someone flarked up at the office?”

“In corporate?” You scoff. “There's always someone.”

Jesse hums, nudging a few things away in search of the bag of meilooruns he'd acquired from CoruFresh down the block two days ago. “You just look more tired than usual,” he says, without peering back at you. “Something I should know?”

You walk past him to put the glass in the sink. “Nothing where I need to show my big, mean boyfriend off.” On your way back, you spread your fingers to cup his ass cheek, only to earn yourself a powerful swat. You cackle. “Just the usual today, love. Corporate shenanigans and routines done, no mishaps. You?”

“Same old,” Jesse answers, and you know that covers cleaning around the house, game session, and sitting next door’s massiff names Bill for an hour or two. He comes up from the conservator bearing a fresh-looking meiloorun. “Oh, before I forget,” he says again, marching straight for the knife and cutting board. “The boys flared up the group chat for a game of limmie this Benduday.”

“Limmie on Benduday?” Maker, what a sport. Fives makes a shit keeper after thirty minutes and you know it's only a matter of time until Kix has to yell for him to get the kriff out of the field and bench him, and then yells for you to replace. “Yeah, we can make it if you want.”

“Love you for a reason,” Jesse grins at you. He's starting to peel using the knife, with better precision to leave more meat than take while peeling. “Go change and rest up. I'll cut this up for you.”

No matter how many times he's done something like this, the gesture has something inside you to melt—all the damn time. The fact that you've never bored each other out, or to even come close to thinking about it is simply a miracle that works.

“You're the perfect home wife, Jes,” you end up saying, perfectly aware how mushy you are inside, like a fruit that's gone past ripe.

“Long as I could see that smile on your face.” Jesse winks at you. “Anything you want.”

Feels like it's lacking something, your brain tells you. You nudge yourself forward with your heart full, Jesse being the only thing in your mind at that moment. Sensing you approaching, he puts the knife away for a mo, letting you wrap your arms around his torso as tightly as you can, chuckling when you tiptoe to plant a kiss on his cheek.

“Love you,” you mutter against his day-old stubble. Hearing your words causes him to smile, and you peck his sweet dimple that appears. “So much. Always. You know?”

“Always do, baby. Both of us wouldn't be here otherwise.” He turns to face you, eyes roaming across your features for a second. “Love you, too.”

Jesse kisses you like a true lover in every bit of sense. It isn't as passionate as those times in the middle of a hot night, but his body and especially his heart do yearn for you all the same. You're perfect to him, in every way. The proof of his undying loyalty to the Republic may be inked to his features, but now his only obligations that remain to exist are to you. Because how could he not be grateful that you've stayed loyal to him all the time, even during the war, and now, after?

Taglist: @yoursrosie @hellfiresky @filamentlights @msmeredithrose @heidnspeak @lucyysthings @emmaw18 @leiopython-rat @gh0st-c0mpany @br00kthe0takuuuu @ct7567329 @returnofthepineapple @gloriousinthebattle @nymphali-dae @leannathespacewerewolf @remotelyhauntedstatue

A/N: You can request for x reader in my askbox! If you're interested in my clone x reader oneshots you can sign up as well to be tagged of future works. (Link provided ⬆️)

You were born to a soldier on Pandora, a Seargant who seemed unbothered by her pregnancy during her term. The RDA wasn’t progressive, not at all, but they weren’t so cruel (at least to their own race) that they’d force a pregnant woman into work. Your mother simply made the decision to keep working, no matter how unsafe it was.

After she gave birth to you, she seemed… inattentive at best. She took maternity leave for the required period of time and got back into the action once she was cleared, leaving you essentially alone. It wasn’t long after her redeployment that she was killed in action along with the rest of her squad. An unfortunate accident in the dangerous wilds of Pandora

So, motherless and unclaimed by a father, you were orphaned. Too young for Cryo, they let you stay. Your mother's room became yours and yours alone. 

Of course, the RDA base was no place for a child. Ill-equipped and non-accommodative. The higher-ups reasoned that you’d best be left to the scientists and doctors. They’d know how to take care of a kid best, right?

Of course, no one really paid much attention to you. Giving the minimum attention necessary to keep you alive, lest they carry the guilt of neglecting an infant to death.

Grace wasn’t sure what to think of you when you were put in her care. She was a scientist, not a babysitter. Her focus was on the Na’vi, their way of life, and the organisms living on Pandora. She didn’t have time to look after a kid.

You were shucked off onto some lower-level scientists and assistants. She didn’t hear much from you other than your crying, which was always met with swift confinement to your room with your current caretaker. 

Eventually, though, you became autonomous. You were quick, slippery, and curious. The ones in charge of you didn’t pay much attention, which led to you sneaking around. Once, finding your way into Grace's lab.

She found you at her desk, standing on her chair in only an ill-fitting t-shirt and diapers, leaning over and staring at the projection of various pictures she had up. 

Grace wasn’t cruel; she may not have wanted to be responsible for you, but she held the same fondness for kids that most did.

Carefully, she picked you up, sitting you in her lap, and asked you what you were doing.

“Pic!” Is all you blurted out, head turned around, and staring at her with your wide and curious eyes. Grace chuckled, nodding as she hummed and affirmed your babbles.

You spent the rest of that day in her hold, watching as she scrolled through the pictures and videos she had in the database, explaining, in the most child-friendly way, the ones you were interested in. 

Being just over a year old, you weren’t still in her lap. Wriggling around, grabbing at her and objects, even standing up in her lap and jumping up and down, which she swiftly stopped. Despite all this, Grace was patient with you. Perhaps it was your curiosity for Pandora that softened her, the fact that you were interested in something she’d devoted her life to researching. 

A new brain to fill, maybe.

So, you made frequent trips to the lab after that. Slipped past your caretakers and crawling into Grace or Max’s laps, whoever was available, and babbling on and on. You weren’t the center of attention or a priority, but you became somewhat of a soft spot for Grace and her fellow scientists. Not as much of a burden, anymore.

It wasn’t long before you started picking up on the Na’vi phrases being used, especially once you discovered the parts of the lab dedicated more towards the avatars and culture of the Na’vi. Grace, ever the enabler of your interest in Pandora, started speaking to you in almost strictly Na’vi.

Being so young, you picked up on it incredibly quickly, nearly at the same speed as English, which you’d only really started learning a month or two prior.

It was cute to them, having a little human baby babbling in Na’vi and focusing so intently on the fauna and flora you saw in catalogs. Some even joked that your bedtime book should be the one Grace wrote. 

They called you the LabRat around the base. A term of endearment, of course. Many knew about you, the loose kid on base who scurried around and spent almost as much time in the lab as the scientists. You were cute. But really, that’s all you were to them, a cute kid. 

But to Grace? Somewhere along the way, she grew more fond of you than she’d expected. She ate with you at breakfast, watching you messily eat out of the corner of her eye as she held conversations with the other scientists. You stuck to her side, only ever really leaving it when you wanted to be with Max or go to sleep. Even then, she often had to carry you to your room multiple times throughout the day when you fell asleep in her lap.

You spent a lot of time with Max, too. Whenever Grace was in her Avatar, which was often, you found yourself with him. He was always a little softer with you, having been more fond and sympathetic with you earlier on. 

He treated you more like a kid than most others. He didn’t really try to feed your curiosity with Pandora, instead focusing on the fact that you were a deprived orphan child. He was the most suited to take care of you, probably. 

At some point, you found your way into the Avatar lab, watching through the windows. No one really saw it coming, but you escaped. With your little mask that was slightly too big for your face, you ran out the door, gunning right for Grace’s Avatar. 

They didn’t really think you’d recognize her, but you did, and you wanted to see her. Of course, you were a little intimidated by her drastic change in appearance and height, but at this point, you knew about the Na’vi and Avatars, so you didn’t have much of a problem.

Grace, in her Avatar form, was perhaps even more loving towards you. Maybe it was the youth of the body, or the fact that she had her own internal favoritism for it, but she seemed happier. Something you picked up on quickly. 

You loved being outside. No longer were you content being cooped up in the lab, you wanted to see the forest! Of course, they weren’t exactly ok with the idea, but your crying eventually convinced them.

Grace decided to take you to the school. She’d made excellent progress with the Omaticaya through the school, maybe it would be good to start introducing some direct human contact… through you. And she figured it could be good for your development, meeting beings that weren’t just inattentive scientists and soldiers.

With your mask on and sporting your cutest clothes, Grace took you to the school. The Na’vi kids were unsure about you at first, with their adverse feelings about Skypeople, but eventually they opened up. 

You were small, so incredibly small. Even the young children had no problems holding and cradling you. You were cute in your own, human, way.

They were intrigued by the fact that your Na’vi was as good as your English. Granted, neither were particularly good, seeing as you were a toddler, but it's the fact that they were at the same level that they admired.

Sylwanin was especially interested in you, often taking you in her arms, cooing and coddling you. 

“Sa’nok, she’s so small!” She’d exclaim to Grace, who’d laugh in response.

“Well, she’s human. You’re probably at least 2 feet taller than my human body, and I’m an adult.” She leaned over Sylwanin, smiling down at the scene. “She’s just a youngin’, not even 2 years old.”

From then on, you were a regular addition to Grace’s school and a personal favorite of Sylwanin and Neytiri. The two sisters absolutely adored you. Cooing over you and your babbles, sitting you in between them or on one of their laps during the lessons.

Often, they’d sit in the back with you, giggling at your tiny body and antics, brushing your hair, or watching as you fiddled with whatever toy or objects you could get your hands on. 

Between your time in the lab and out at the school, you were the first human to be culturally raised Na’vi. It was fascinating to Grace. 

Tsu’tey was cautious of you at first, unsure of how to handle how small and frail you were. But out of everything, you were also incredibly persistent and curious. Somehow, you found yourself worming your way into Tsu’tey’s arms, waddling up to him and demanding he pick you up through body language.

Sylwanin found this utterly adorable, how you’d stand there and “Hmf!” until he reached down and picked you up. He didn’t really know how to hold you, hands tucked under your armpits, torso and legs dangling in the air, but you crawled your way around him, finding yourself sitting on his shoulders. Well, shoulder, to be exact. You could comfortably sit on one, granted it was with one of his hands on your legs to keep your balance while you grabbed onto his braids.

“Tey-Tey” “Wanin” and “Tiri” you called them, not really able to pronounce their full names. They, of course, didn’t care, cooing at the babble of nicknames you gave them. 

In turn, they started to call you “Syulì'ang”, a butterfly-like insect that was known for its characteristic claws that latched it onto whatever it landed on. A fitting nickname, they all thought. 

Their sweet Syulì'ang. Tsu’tey was more or less simply amused by you once he was comfortable. He wasn't as doting as Sylwanin or Neytiri or some of the others; he liked you, but it was more or less than he was entertained by you. 

Of course, that changed the more you stuck around. By the time you’d learned to walk well enough to walk to the school yourself, with Grace accompanying you, of course, he was always waiting by the doorway. He’d give a simple nod to Grace when the pair of you came into view, and he tried to remain stoic as you ran forward, your small body knocking into his tall legs and calling out his name, but Grace, and just about anyone else who really knew him, could see through it. 

You spent your developmental years at the school, growing up so quickly that the Na’vi kids didn’t know what to do. When they first met you, you could barely walk, and all you could really do was babble and string together words, but years passed, and you began holding conversations and moving around fairly fluidly. 

Of course, you were still small and babyish, still just a toddler, but toddlers grew and changed fast. 

You were like their baby sister. Tsmuke, they called you. To them, you were really no different from another Na’vi kid. You spoke fluently, you were young and saw the world in a manner that seemed to reflect their own cultural point of view, perhaps from your exposure to it. 

Grace couldn’t really place when she started to love you. Maybe it was when you first called her “Sa’nok”, copying the kids at the schoolhouse. Maybe it was when that transformed into “Sa’nu”, or when it became “mama” when back in the lab. Maybe it was that day you first caught her attention, having snuck into the lab and into her heart.

She never corrected you when you called her those things, even when she got odd stares from the others around when you did. They just didn’t get it. They were too wrapped up in their own world. And yeah, so was she, but at some point, you became a part of her world. 

She didn’t really think of herself as your parent, but she didn’t mind if you thought of her as one. She wasn’t really the nicest; she was definitely more of a ‘tough love’ kind of parental figure, but that wasn’t really all that bad. 

Pandora wasn’t suited for you. You weren’t supposed to be there, and it wasn’t a good place for you by any means. You weren’t given proper attention or affection, and when you were, it wasn't consistent. Grace and Max, and the Na’vi kids weren’t role model family figures, but they tried, and they loved you, no matter how… odd it was. 

At some point, you’d met Mo’at and Eytukan. Likely, they’d heard of you from their daughters and Tsu’tey. It was hard to tell what they thought of you, after all, they had their own reservations about the humans, only allowing the school to function due to Sylwanin's request. 

But they liked you enough. You were a kid, a toddler, innocent in what was being done to their planet. You didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of any prejudice they held towards the humans. You spoke the language and learned beside their children. You seemed to love the forest as if it were your own home.

Formally, you met Mo’at when you fell down and scraped yourself while running out of the school, being chased by Sylwanin. You cried, of course, but Sylwanin, as calm as ever, simply scooped you up and told Grace she was taking you to her mother to get fixed up, running off before she could object.

You watched the Tsahik in awe as she worked on you, rubbing a salve on your wounds, her jewelry and beadings clinking together as she did so. You watch her in silence, Sylwanin giggling at your entranced demeanor. At the end, climbing back into Sylwanin’s arms, you turned and told Mo’at she was magnificent. A big word for your age. 

Mo’at had to admit, you were a charming little kid. 

Neytiri was especially charmed by you, often taking you from anyone else's arms to hold you in hers. It became a running joke that she’d adopt and steal you away if she could. She never denied it.

You could always be found fiddling with her hair or necklaces, pulling at them or putting them in your mouth. Neytiri, despite not liking your actions, was patient with you, simply giggling as she pulled it from your grasp and pointed your attention elsewhere.

Some people on base started to voice complaints about you being out too much. Being gifted jewelry and pieces by Sylwanin and Neytiri, and one piece from Tsu’tey, you began dressing in them every day. 

Of course, the complaints went nowhere, being no more than off-hand comments made by people who had no role or responsibility in your upbringing. As loved as you were, you were still overlooked more often than not, just an orphan kid who wandered in and out of the base. Outside of Grace, Max, and a few other scientists, no one really cared.

You had your routine. Getting up, spending time with Max before running out with Grace to the school. The school was your favorite place, you often told Neytiri and Tsu’tey in giddy whispers. You felt free and loved. It was your place.

When Sylwanin stopped showing up, you were sad. You missed her. Really, she was your favorite. 

You didn’t understand why you stopped going to the school, why Grace started arguing with a bunch of the soldiers more often, and why you were no longer allowed outside of the base. You cried a lot, saying you wanted your Tsmuke’s and Tsmukan. You wanted to go to the school, you wanted to see Neytiri and Sylwanin and Tsu’tey and the others. 

You cried when a scientist, tired of your whining, told you they probably didn’t want to see you.

Grace had a hard time comforting you. She didn’t know what to say, struggling with her own grief and guilt in the whole situation. All she could do was hold you and tell you that things were going to be okay. 

It was a while before you stopped crying so much. You still whined about wanting to go outside, but you learned to stop when asked. You spent your nights fiddling with the gifts from Neytiri and Sylwanin, the jewelry they crafted for you, the toy Mo’at gifted you once, and the Ikran Tsu’tey carved for you out of wood. They were your most treasured pieces. 

You worked on your own gifts for them, on and off, through the two years you spent without them. 

You were six by the time Jake came around. You became attached to him very quickly. 

He’d just made it to base and was getting filled in by Norm. His introduction to Grace wasn’t going well, bordered by her hostility towards him being there in place of his brother. Before he could say anything else, you bounded into the room. 

“Sa'nu! sa'nu! 'ur 'upe oe run!” Mama! Mama! Look what I found! You yelled, stopping at her feet and shoving an insect you were cradling in your palm into her face. 

She glanced at the bug and tilted her head, raising a brow at you. “ Y/n, nga kame nga're ke tung wrrpa, ‘itetsyip.” You know you’re not allowed outside, little one.

You pouted, stomping your foot. “Oe ke wrrkä! tsal pamähem ne oe.” I didn't go out! It came to me. You insisted. Grace merely rolled her eyes with a grin as she ruffled your hair. 

Jake looked at Norm, confused, who translated a lazy “she’s showing her a bug.” for him. 

As if you just noticed their presence, you awkwardly glanced at the two, shyly shuffling behind Grace. Jake glanced between you and Grace before leaning in. 

“What’s that you got there?” He asked, smiling as he watched your facial expression change. Before he knew it, you were launched into a whole explanation about the bug. It's name, both scientific and Na’vi, and all the fun little characteristics you noticed and pointed out to him. 

It was easy to tell who you’re favorite was going to be among the newest science recruits. You became quick friends with the ex-Marine, demanding his attention whenever he wasn’t busy. 

You were an interesting little thing. Energetic as all could be, running around like you owned the place, switching between languages so casually as if they were one. Jake paid more attention to you in a week than most of the people on base had in your entire life. 

He’d come by your room, peaking in as you played with your toys or read a book you definitely didn’t actually understand. As soon as you noticed his presence, you’d abandon whatever it was you were doing to run to him, hoisting yourself up into his lap.

“What's up, little bug?” He’d say, smiling down at you as you went on and on about whatever it is you wanted to talk about. Most of it went right over his head, but he listened nonetheless. He got the memo pretty early on that you were essentially left to your own devices, only helped with the bare minimum by people who didn’t want to be responsible for you

So, he started being more attentive towards you. Call it fatherly instincts, he calls it common empathy. You didn’t have any plans or expectations for him, you weren’t disappointed in his presence in place of his brothers, you simply looked up at him with those wide and love-filled eyes. That was all he needed to become hooked. His little bug, he liked to call you.

To Norm, Jake had adapted a fatherly role scarily quickly. Of course, Norm thought you were cute, but he wasn’t really sure what to do with you. It puzzled him how well Jake was with you, for only knowing you for a few days. How you crawled into his lab during one of the briefings, obviously tired but wanting to be involved. 

The briefing was casual, so Jake wrapped his arms around you and cradled you, rocking you in his arms as he hummed a lullaby he’d grown up with on Earth.

It was the first time someone had sung you a lullaby, at least since you were a crying infant everyone was desperate to soothe. You fell asleep in his arms immediately. Grace only gave a passing glance and a chuckle, stating he was now on bedtime duty. 

And that he was. You were a stubborn kid when it came to bedtime, fighting your own sleep and exhaustion because you wanted to be where the attention was. You didn’t want to miss out on any of Grace or Max’s briefings or discoveries, no matter how dull they were, or the fact that they didn’t really happen after hours. Nevertheless, you were difficult to put to sleep. 

He was quickly called the Y/n Whisperer after he calmed you down from a tantrum and had you knocked out in bed within 10 minutes of you being told to go to sleep, an affair that often took at least half an hour and some strong bargaining. 

Jake was still reeling from it all. For him, he was still dealing with the fact that his brother was dead and he’d taken his place on a scientific mission on Pandora, whisked away from his dystopic life on Earth and given a brand new chance. It was dizzying, and now he had a kid attached to his leg. 

Call it what it was: whiplash. He doesn’t really understand why you liked him so much, why he was able to connect with you so well. Maybe it was because he was the first person to spare you a second glance in your entire life, a second glance you didn’t have to work and beg for. 

If given the chance, Jake was sure you two would be absolutely inseparable.

It was during dinner that things shifted. You were there for Jake's recounting of the events that transpired after he got chansed off by a Thanator. Through it all, all you heard was that he’d met Neytiri. 

Neytiri. Your Neytiri.

You missed her. You missed her so bad, and Jake got to see her. It had been two years, and you thought for sure there was no way you’d be able to see her again. But Jake saw her! He even went to the village, so he likely saw Tsu’tey, Mo’at, and Sylwanin! 

Seeing them was possible. That was the conclusion you came to. 

Tsu’tey was the one to find you the next day. You had snuck out, exopack secured on for the first time in nearly two years, and you set off. Your memory was hazy, and you hardly remembered your way through the forest.

Scratch that, you didn’t remember it at all. You got lost almost immediately, your excitement to see your friends slowly replaced with uncertainty and fear. You wandered through the woods, climbing across logs and rivers, becoming more and more sure that you weren’t going the right way…

Of course, you didn’t know what to do. No one could really blame you for how you started crying out, yelling for Neytiri, Tsu’tey, Sylwanin, Grace, whoever you thought could find you. 

It wasn’t until you heard the growl that you regretted your decision to be so loud. Nantang. They surrounded you, stalking and getting ready to pounce. All you could do was scream.

Tsu’tey found you, following the distant yelling for familiar names and then the high-pitched screams. He shot the Nantang, scaring off the others as he rode in on his pa’li. He was ready to shoot you, the human who had trespassed onto their land, but he paused. Arrow resting between his fingers, and breath hitched.

It was you.

He was quick, dismounting his direhorse and scooping you up in his arms, doing his best to soothe you with soft words as you cried and writhed in his hold. Blood was everywhere. He was horrified.

He acted on pure impulse. Jake. Jake probably knew you. He was also human, and he was an avatar- so he probably knew Grace- he had to get you to Jake.

So he rode on his direhorse as fast as he could, holding you tightly in his arms as you bled and bled and cried. Oh, how you cried, clinging to him and whimpering, he felt so helpless. Exactly like how he’d felt that day Sylwanin died in his arms at the school house. He couldn’t have that happen again. Not with you. Not with the small girl he’d grown so fond of. 

It was a blur, finding Jake and Neytiri, the morphing look of terror on their faces as they took in the sight of the girl in his arms and his disjointed explanation. It was a blur, and he was on his knees, Neytiri holding onto him as they both shook, taking in the situation as Jake ran off into the woods with you in his arms, pushing himself as fast as he could go. 

Jake was scared. You were such a sweet girl, and in the days he’d known you, he was hooked. You were small, petulant, stubborn, smart; you were a good kid. You were funny and fun to be around, and he liked you. He saw why Grace had such a soft spot for you, who wouldn’t?

But now you’re in his arms, bleeding, and Grace is gonna be horrified. 

He got you to the base, bursting through the doors, demanding a doctor, yelling you needed help because you were hurt and bleeding. You were small, hurt, bleeding, and it felt like you were at death's door.

You were swept out of his arms, and all you could do was whimper, reaching back out to the strong arms you felt safe in. They hooked you up to machines, tended to your wounds. They assured Jake and a just-arriving-frazzled Grace that you were gonna be fine. 

But the base wasn’t a hospital. Yeah, it was a military base, and those often come with medical centers, but it wasn’t good, especially not for a child. With how advanced they were, they weren’t well equipped.

You suffered for days, writhing and screaming in pain, tears only stopping once you ran out of them. 

Despite Grace and Max’s pleas and Jake's insistence towards Quaritch, you were essentially… ignored.

You were loved. But you were still just a bastard orphaned child; the RDA simply didn’t want to deal with you, especially with your seemingly growing allegiance to the Na’vi.

Of course, they did what they could to help you, but it was minimal. 

You were going to die, Grace and Jake were sure of it.

So, desperate, he went to Mo’at. He pleaded for her to help you. She didn’t need much convincing.

The night before Grace planned to move the operation to the Hallelujah Mountains, they snuck you out, careful to remove all your hook-ups to the machines. 

They took you to the village, breaking so many rules, desperate to help you. 

You were frail, withering away in his hold. The best he could do was whisper comforts as he carried you. 

Mo’at worked quickly, shooing them out of her tent as she worked on you. Salves, mixes, incense. She worked for hours. You were just a little kid; you had so much before you. She pleaded to the Great Mother to help you, even if you were a human she could barely reach. 

You were getting better, but it wasn’t enough. Something was wrong, very wrong, and she didn’t know what it was or how to help.

She pulled away, examining you with a hitched breath. Just as she went to move to grab another tool, something caught her attention. 

An Atokirina.

It floated in the air, pulsing until it wilted down to meet your skin. 

Mo’at’s eyes widened. 

“We must take her to the Tree of Souls.” She declared as she stepped out of her tent, the group that had gathered in front of it standing and moving in confusion.

They wanted to question it. Jake wanted to ask what was wrong, how you were doing, and if you’d live. All the words were on the tip of his tongue, but Grace grabbed his hand. She kept her gaze forward, at the tent, but she’d communicated enough.

Tsu’tey was the one to take you into his arms, lips pursed, and eyes gazing down at you in worry. For a moment, Jake wanted to be the one to hold you, but you curled into Tsu’teys arms so comfortably- so familiar, a moment of comfort and assurance when you were in so much pain.

Neytiri followed close behind, hand resting on your forehead as they walked, her eyes focused on your face scrunched in agony, your pinched brows and wavering lips. How she wanted to soothe you, to hold you, and kiss away the creases of pain in your face. 

You’d grown so much since they’d last seen you. You were still so small, but so much more grown. They had missed you so much, their grief compelled by the loss of two sisters. They nearly begged Mo’at and Eytukan to call off the ban on humans on their land, if only to see you.

And now, you were back in their arms, but by the force of necessity and desperation. Out of the fear of death. 

The clan, having roused at the commotion, made their way to the Tree of Souls with the group. They didn’t question their Tsahik’s care of the human child, many of them having heard the accounts of you and your kindred nature from the many children who’d attended the school.

Arriving at the Tree, Neytiri and Tsu’tey kept Grace and Jake at a distance, allowing Mo’at to prepare as the clan gathered around. They pulled Jake and Grace down to the ground with them, connecting their Kuru to the roots sticking up. They started to hum, moving as a group. 

With everything in them, they begged Eywa to help you.

You were human, yes, but they loved you. You were their sister. You were Grace's daughter, by love if not biology. You were a sweet kid, and they wanted- needed you to stay. 

“Allow this child to heal, Great Mother, allow her to heal and walk among us. To live, to feel your embrace.” Mo’at’s words echoed, her chants and pleas thrumming through the crowd. 

Placed at the base of the spirit tree, you lay there, wrapped in luminescent tendrils. They wrapped around your small body, seemingly consuming you as they grew. The light of the tendrils pulsed with your every breath, echoing across the tree like a ripple in water. 

You… you felt free. The tendrils were warm, encasing you in what felt like a mother's embrace. Your vision was blurred, but you saw.  You saw so much, all you could do was smile. You saw Sylwanin, every time you’d seen her, every word, every movement. She wrapped around you. You saw the sea, you saw the forest and the land. It was breathtaking.

Mo’at faltered, her chants falling off the tip of her tongue as she glanced down at you. At this, the ones who’d brought you here opened their eyes.

They didn’t know what to do. 

You were there, alive. More alive than you’d ever been, but they could feel that you were slipping away. 

Neytiri crawled towards you, Grace scrambling up and finding herself at your side. She took your hand in hers as Neytiri caressed your hair.

They knew it was a desperate attempt, taking you here, unlikely to work, but it hurt. They weren’t ready to let go. The humans weren’t going to help you. What else were they to do? 

Tears slid down Grace’s face as she watched you, your eyes glazed over as a smile crept onto your lips. 

“Y/n- Syulì'ang please-” Neytiri whispered, her voice cracking. She leaned down, placing a kiss on your forehead. “Stay” she begged

“Syulì'ang,” Tsu’tey choked out, pleading, biting back his words, and tears with them. “Be strong, stay with us.”

You heard their words. You wanted to reach up, to comfort them. Grace was right in front of you, and all you wanted was to reach up and wipe the tears off her face. 

Grace cried. Silent, of course. Tears slipping down her cheeks like arrows of fire burning their way through the air. They hurt like it. She wondered if they’d scar, if there would be a trail of scarred flesh down her cheeks when she was done. 

You were her child, at least, the closest she had to one. You were the best thing she’d had in a long time. And now, you were slipping away. Like the school, like Sylwanin, like Neytiri and Tsu’tey and the children who’d called her Sa’nok. You called her Sa’nu.

The grief was endless. A fountain pouring from Neytiri as she wept, hands shaking as she tried to fight the urge to take you into her arms. She’d seen you grow up, your words develop from babbles to sentences, your mind expand. She wore the bracelet you’d made for her. It was ill-fitting and poorly crafted, but she weaved it into her armband, careful to preserve its shape and structure. She meant to always have you with her, even if she couldn't physically. 

You were more than a child she saw as a sister; you could have been her child. A ridiculous notion, but she felt so strongly about you. She wanted to take you in, hold you close, and carry you as she did her chores and duties. She wanted to hunt and bring it home for you to eat till you were full. Perhaps, to her, you were an odd mixture of a sister and child, but that just meant she loved you all the more.

Her sweet Syulì'ang. She’d named you after the insect, a beautiful creature that fluttered around and gripped onto surfaces when it meant to. She wished and wished and wished that you'd stay, that you’d grip onto the ground and stay there with her. She did not like humans, but you? You, she loved.

So it hurt, watching as your eyes closed, feeling your pulse slow, have you die right in front of her, right in her reach. 

Your eyes, heavy, rose up to the sky. “Sa’nu, Tsmuke, Tsmukan, Jake-” Your words were quiet, strained, and heavy. But you spoke anyway, a warmth passing through your body. “Eywa, she’s” It was hard to speak. “She’s like the waves-” your breath released from your lips, cutting off your words.

The tendrils around you pulsed before they dulled, the light dimming across the Tree of Souls.

Jake could only hold Neytiri as she cried, his own tears falling as he felt his entire demeanor freeze.

They left you by the tree, something Grace opposed. But Mo’at had insisted it was Eywa’s wish. Jake and Grace weren’t happy, nor were Tsu’tey and Neytiri; they wanted to give you a proper burial, but they complied with their Tsahik’s declaration.

It was mere days later that Neytiri visited again, only to be met with an empty landscape. You were nowhere in sight, only an abundance of tendrils in your place, pulsing with light as Eywa breathed below them.

Ronal, for weeks, dreamed of a face. A human one. She’d never seen the girl before, unfamiliar with the face and voice she kept meeting in her dreams. It bothered her, being met so forcefully with a demon's face, but behind it, she felt the Great Mother's words. 

She couldn’t make sense of it; it drove her wild how she prayed and prayed, and all she was met with were new visions of the girl. With a newborn baby, she felt stretched thin. She confided in Tonowari about her dreams. He did what he could to comfort her, putting in effort to relieve her of as much stress as he could. 

Ronal prayed, seeking answers and clarity. What did the Great Mother want?

One night, she dreamed of the spirit tree, along with the girl. She dreamt of whispers, of a new face, of a young Metkayina child she held in her arms. 

She woke up in a cold sweat, right as dawn rose in the sky. 

She made her way through the village, mounting her tsurak, and traveled to the cove of the ancestors. She felt a weight in her chest as she arrived. She dove under, swimming through the featherlike branches as she made her way to the center of the tree. 

She reached forward, placing her palms on the branches wrapped tightly in on itself. Slowly, she unwrapped it, pulling it away from the other ‘leaves’ wrapped around. Once she got to the center, she pulled back.

An infant lay in the middle, wrapped in the leaves. Slowly, she pulled it out, taking it into her arms, she swam up. Breaching the surface, she looked down, watching as the baby breathed in the air. 

The first breath.

Ronal gazed down at the baby, brows pinched together as she took her in. Confusion was the least she could describe it as. 

A moment passed. Ronal mounted her tsurak, and she returned home.

Whispers surrounded her as she walked through the village, eyes following her and landing on the unknown infant in her embrace. In the mere minutes she’d had the baby, she felt an overwhelming sense of maternal instinct towards it. She reasoned she felt that way about most babies, but this was stronger.

She approached her Marui, Tonowari, meeting her at the entrance. He gazed down at her, then the baby, confusion panting his face. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out, stuck in the flurry of words he was trying to put together.

“The Great Mother brought her to me,” Ronal spoke, calm and melodic. “To us.” Tonowari gazed up at her. 

Words exchanged between them in complete silence. 

He nodded, stepping aside, allowing Ronal to enter the Marui. 

The two took to their daughter quickly, entranced by the baby given to them by Eywa. They were lost, confused by her appearance, but they didn’t question it. They simply placed her in the cradle with their other baby, Ao’nung, watching as they turned and curled to hold each other.

“You dreamt of her.” Tonowari’s voice broke the silence.

Ronal, attention on the baby's unwavering, nodded. “Last night, yes.”

He looked to his wife, tentative as he examined her facial expression. “And the others?” He questioned. 

There was a moment of silence, Ronal’s hand coming to rest on the edge of the cradle. 

“I do not care. She is my daughter. She is ours now.”

Tonowari stared at his wife before nodding, reaching down to cup his daughter's face in his hand. “And what is our daughter's name?” He spoke, already transfixed by the infant lying in the cradle he crafted by hand. 

Ronal tilted her head, watching the girl. After a moment, she gazed to Tonowar, their eyes meeting as a soft smile graced her lips.

“Syuli”

After your death, Jake’s loyalty to the RDA wavered. Grace had accepted her fate as a trapped scientist long ago, but Jake refused. He bonded with Neytiri and Tsu’tey quicker, earning the faith of the clan before he finished his Iknimaya. 

He saw it in black and white. The humans left you alone and to die, the Na’vi loved you as their own and wept at your death. His decision was clear-cut.

Still, his fast actions weren’t enough to prevent the events that led to Neytiri’s belief of his betrayal. Or the destruction of the home tree. Or the death of those he fought by.

By the end of the war, your death was followed by many others. Black stains on Jake’s heart. He mourned you, grieved for you. The devastation of the war was hard enough, but you? You weren’t even a casualty; you were a victim of the most unfortunate of circumstances. He replayed it in his head over and over again, each time wondering what he could have done to save you, to prevent your death. 

It drove him to the worst of his depths. A side of himself he hadn’t even seen when his brother died. 

The only thing keeping him afloat was Neytiri and the child that lay in her womb.

“She is with Grace now, my Jake, with the Great Mother.” Neytiri would say, burying her grief. Twice, she's lost you now. When Sylwanin died and her parents shut down their connections with the humans, she wept for not only her sister but for you. Would she never see you again? At least back then, she found comfort in the fact that you were safe and in Grace’s care. 

Perhaps you still were, in her arms, just as you are in the Great Mothers. But you’re not in hers. That’s what hurt. How you’d never grow up, forever stuck as the small child she knew and loved. 

Time passed, and she had Neteyam. Her sweet baby boy. She felt the cracks in her heart start to be stitched back together, only further healed when they took in Kiri. 

She saw it in Jake, too, how he took to his fatherly role immediately, perhaps better prepared after his time with you. Slowly but surely, they came to be okay again. 

Still, you burned in their hearts. As she wove her songcord, she pulled one of the beads from the bracelet you made her, as carefully as she could, and wove it in. 

A‘eveng, Y/n, ohe oamum 

Wamintxu fi oe, a syawn

a’atanur oe mameyam 

meyam ohe ngenga, tsalsungay pehrr lom

A child, Y/n, i knew

showed to me, a blessing

a light I held in my arms

I hold you, even when gone

It was hard to speak about you to the kids. They didn’t want to introduce the idea of someone dying at such a young age. They also still grieved you, struggling to accept your death. It wasn’t fair. You should be with them, growing up alongside their children. You would have been such a good big sister.

This hit Jake especially hard, knowing how you’d been excited to have another kid on base; Spider. You raved to him about how you were going to bring him to the lab all the time, what toys you’d give him, and how you wanted to teach him Na’vi and have him as a little brother. At least, the closest you could have to one.

So it was hard watching Spider do all that, grow up and learn Na’vi, come into his family and be seen by his kids as a fellow sibling, knowing it was everything you wanted. 

But years passed, and their family grew, and it grew strong. Their children knew of you in passing, in hushed breaths like how they spoke of Sylwanin and the others they’d loved that left them through such harsh tragedies. 

Neytiri and Jake didn’t want the children to wonder what it would have been like to have you in the family. It was already too painful for them to wonder themselves.

Their children grew, their personalities developed, and they came into their own. It was hard not to see you in each of them. Tuk’s curiosity, Lo’ak’s mischief, the softness in Kiri’s eyes, and how Neteyam was so thoughtful with his words. For all its hurt, it also gave them comfort. They’d continue to see you, even when you weren’t with them. 

Their grief became something mellow, something they could plant love and strength into.

But then the RDA came back. Like an old scar tearing apart, refusing to heal. Their lives turned upside down, and their healing came to a harsh halt, slowly stepping backwards against the blood and gunfire they stood in.

That eclipse, when the kids were in the hands of the recoms, Jake felt barbed wire wrapping around his throat. 

He heard their whines, their yelps of pain, and he almost lost them. He refused to risk it. Not again.

“He had our children. Had them under his knife.” He was scared, begging Neytiri to leave, to find a better place for them. He hadn’t been able to find one for you. He wouldn’t let that happen again. “Look, I got nothing… I've got no plan. But I can protect this family. That I can do.”

Neytiri heard the unsaid, seeing what he saw when he spoke. 

“But I do know one thing, wherever we go, this family is our fortress.” It was unintentional, his hands placed delicately on her shoulders, one slipping down, grazing the armband she’d woven with your bracelet in it.

They had to protect their children. 

The Travel to the Metkayina was difficult, tiring, laborious, and met with storms that raged against them. But they pushed through. They’ve pushed through worse; they’d do this for their family.

They landed on the beach, drawing the attention of the clan, who gathered around them in confusion and awe. They were nervous, holding themselves close together as they were gawked at and picked on by oncoming clan members.

Jake felt a sense of relief when Tonowari, an honorable man and the clan's Olo’eyktan, arrived at the scene, greeting them warmly and with a smile. He felt confident, with Tonowari on their side, he believed he could get past the wall Ronal would inevitably put up.

As the crowd parted, he prepared himself, but he felt all the breath be taken out of his lungs.

Ronal stalked closer, her imposing demeanor, but that wasn’t what shocked him. Behind her, following at her heels, was a young girl. Teal skin with swirling stripes.

She resembled you. 

He couldn’t place it; the girl was Metkayina, in every way. But something about her face, the way her expression was set in it, how she carried herself. The air around her, the look in her eyes. All of it set off bells in his chest, ringing and clanging against the grief that settled there. The grief for you. 

She stood behind Ronal, tilting her head exactly the way you did when you were curious about something. 

Neytiri had seen it hundreds of times, holding you in her lap at the schoolhouse. She let out a breath. Jake glanced at her, millions of words passing between them.

She saw it too.

Jake took a moment to collect himself, pulling back from the shock he’d experienced but couldn’t explain. He went on with his prepared speech. He was seeking Uturu; sanctuary, safety for his family. 

His veins were buzzing. He didn’t want to be turned away, to force his children to retreat in defeat, praying they’d find another clan willing to listen and take them in. He felt helpless.

Ronal, skeptical, circled the family. She pulled at their tails, remarking how inefficient they’d be in the water, in their way of life. 

She approached Kiri, taking her hands in hers. A scowl crossed her face. Four fingers. Kiri held her breath, self-conscious of her extra finger, a tell-tale sign of their human descent. Demon descent.

Ronal gazed down, tilting her head.

She looked up to her daughter, the one who’d arrived with her. She watched her for a moment, the dreams she saw all those years ago flooding her mind. Something she’d never speak aloud.

She dropped Kiri’s hands, walking past the children and Jake Sully. “You are ill fit to live here.”

“We can adapt. We can learn.” He pleaded, desperate to convince them to let his family stay. Desperate to appease the leaders of the clan. 

“I’m done with war.” He spoke to Tonowari, quiet and between them. “I just want to keep my family safe.”

Ronal watched him, not convinced by his words. Behind her, her daughter stepped forward, placing her hand on her mother's shoulder.

“Sa’nu.” The words escaped her lips, and Jake breathed in. He saw you, sitting in Grace’s lap in the lab, running up to her excitedly, lying at the spirit tree, dying. 

Ronal looked at her daughter, words exchanged between their gazes, she turned to her mate, being met with the same sentiment. A moment passed, and she nodded. 

“Jake Sully and his family will stay with us.” Tonowari announced, explaining to the clan their duty to teach them their ways of life. 

Jake sighed in relief, bringing forth a ‘thank you’ from his family. 

“Our children, Syuli, Ao’nung, and Tsireya, will show your children what to do.”

Ao’nung stepped forth, displeased by his father's decision, but silenced.

“Come, we will show you our village!” Tsireya stepped forward, hand in hand with her sister. 

You looked to the family that had arrived at your village. You took in their faces. 

They felt familiar to you. You couldn’t place it.

Tsireya tugged you along through the village, humming as you made your way across the woven walkways. Neytiri and Jake, though focused on taking in their new home, couldn’t help but watch you. The bounce in your step all too familiar.

It was eerie, and they didn’t understand their attribution of you to the little girl they’d known all those years ago. 

You became a constant in their life, always around their kids, peeking into their Marui to offer fruits you’d picked with your mother. You were a sweetheart, thoughtful, and kind to their children. 

Your mother stayed skeptical of her allowance of the foreigners into their clan, fueled by your growing night problems. 

It had been years since she last caught you sleepwalking. It was a problem when you were a child, roaming around the village in the midst of the night. Many concerned clan members came to her with stories of how you found yourself at the edge of the walkways, staring up into the open sky with a withered look on your face.

You sleep-talked, she discovered after staying up to follow you one night. You spoke garbled sentences, strung together words that didn’t make sense. You spoke in a mix of Na’vi and English.

How you even knew the language? She couldn’t understand. 

She prayed nightly, seeking for guidance on how to help her sweet baby girl. Again, she was only met with visions of that human child.

It all came to a head one night when Tsireya woke her up, lip jutting out as she whispered that you’d fallen during your walks. Ronal soothed her daughter, telling her to go back to sleep before leaving to find you. 

You were on your knees, hands clasped together as you spoke in broken prayers, eyes glazed over. You were somewhere she didn’t know.

She was tired of it, worried to death, and lost. So, she did the only thing she could think of. She pulled you into the water carefully, holding you as she rode to the Cove of the Ancestors. You came out of your trance, slowly but surely, but still drowsy and out of it. 

She was able to coax you to enough consciousness to get you to dive under, connecting with the spirit tree. 

She doesn’t know what you saw when you did. All she knows is that you hadn’t sleep-walked, or talked since. She knew you were special. A child she would never truly understand, but she loved and cherished you with everything she had. 

She saw the way the animals around you seemed to move in sync with you, how the luminescence at night pulsed with your breath. She didn’t ask for answers. She loved you and she trusted the Great Mother. 

But here you were again, standing at the entrance of their Marui, eyes glazed over, staring off into the stars. Ever since they’d let the Sullys stay, you’d been walking and talking in your sleep again. 

It wasn’t as intense, thankfully, but it was enough to rouse her or her children from sleep every so often.

They worried for you. They took turns staying up, watching you, easing you back to sleep, careful not to startle you from your trance. During the day, they acted as if nothing was different. They knew you were different, but they loved you nonetheless. You were their daughter, their sister. 

Ao’nung picked on you, teasing you and going out of his way to bother you. It was his way of showing his love, he joked. He had his moments. Picking you up in his arms and carrying you across the village to your mother for treatment when you hurt yourself on a spear, ignoring your complaints that it was your hand that was injured, not your legs, you could still walk! He ignored you, carefully setting you down in their Marui, lurking by the door until you were bandaged up and ready to leave.

Tsireya was easier. You got along with your younger sister without any problems, aside from the occasional spat that never went anywhere. You two were two peas in a pod. Inseparable. Hands clasped together, arms wrapped around each other. You were always together. It’s how you thrived. 

Ronal and Tonowari, they never gave a second thought to the fact that you weren’t theirs, because you were. From the moment they’d set you down in that cradle, you’d become theirs. Their love for you was strong and unwavering. They called your name out with affection, they weaved you jewelry and clothes with love, they never let you doubt you were loved. They held you as you slept, as you dreamt.

And you dreamt. You dreamt every night. Of faces, of voices, of people you didn’t know, but knew. 

By the time you woke up, your dreams were in blurry fragments, unable to be pieced together or made sense of. 

Your family didn’t voice their worries to you. They saw how you flourished when interacting with their new clan members. 

You were patient with them, guiding them through your way of life like it was the easiest thing to do. You blended in with them, conversing with the children so easily, it was as if you’d been doing it your entire life. 

You and your siblings, Rotxo, and the Sully kids became somewhat of a friend group. Always together, at least in fragments. You felt as if your family had expanded.

The Sully kids adored you, especially Kiri. It was something about the way the two of you seemed to understand nature that connected you. And perhaps, your mysterious origins. 

You confided in Kiri, and Kiri alone, about your peculiar birth. The whole clan knew, they’d witnessed it firsthand, but the story hadn’t made its way to the Sullys. Perhaps it was because it was accepted, no one thought twice about it, you were Ronal and Tonowari's daughter. No one thought to mention that, by biological means, you weren’t.

You told her how you didn’t know your biological parents. No one did. Abandoned at the Spirit tree, you were taken in by Ronal and Tonowari, raised alongside Tsireya, and essentially as Ao’nung’s twin. 

She told you about her mother, a scientist who was beloved by their clan, who died during the first war against the humans. She was born from her Avatar.

Grace.

You spoke her name before Kiri told you.

An odd look passed her face. It wasn't until it dripped from your chin that you realised a tear had slipped down your cheek.

“I-i’m sorry, I'm just-” You strung together words, embarrassed and confused by your unconscious outburst. “It’s hard to speak about my birth.” You blamed it on that. Kiri accepted your words, wrapping her arms around you in an embrace that felt warmer than anything else you’d experienced.

You grew a lot closer to the Sully kids. It was their parents who were odd to be around.

Jake and Neytiri didn’t know what to think of you. You were Ronal and Tonowari’s daughter, Na’vi, born and raised in the reef. Yet when they looked at you, heard your voice, all they could see was that little girl they’d loved. 

They were going crazy. That was the only explanation. Driven mad by the destruction of their home and subsequent forced abandonment of it. 

They wanted to talk to you. They ached to. But it ached just as much to do so. It wasn’t fair to you, their projections of grief onto you. 

You were kind, you spoke for them when they first arrived, and you went out of your way to welcome them. You taught their children and defended them, taking them in as if they were your blood. 

But every time they saw you, they were swarmed by a whirlpool of grief and relief. 

“She speaks like her.” Neytiri would whisper one night, when all the children were off in the village attending a celebration, Jake lying next to her.

“Yeah.” He’d say, eyes locked on Neytiri’s face, watching as she wandered through her mind. Watching as a tear slipped down her cheek. 

For weeks, they watched you, watching every movement and quirk you exhibited. How you spoke, how you moved through the walkways, your sense of humor. The way you scrunched your nose in a certain way when faced with food you didn’t like. It all pointed back.

Back to her.

That girl.

She haunted them. 

A ghost following them around. One they thought they’d put to rest over a decade ago. 

They had moved on. They grieved her, yes, but they had learned to live without her. Just as they did with every person they lost. 

But she was back. 

They thought it was in their heads at first, but the more they saw, the more they became sure. 

Her body had disappeared, Neytiri recounted to him, a whisper under her breath as they watched you talk to Neteyam and Tsireya from afar. They’d left her at the tree like Mo’at demanded, abiding by Eywa's wishes. Her body was gone far too quickly to have been natural decomposition, and no creature would dare feast on a body wrapped in Eywa’s arms like she was.

They didn’t question it, too wrapped up in their grief to try and breach the topic. They simply accepted it. Eywa wanted her. She was with Grace, they believed. 

But she wasn’t.

She was in the reef, living amongst the people, living. 

They saw you, and they saw her. One in the same.

They’d grieved you, and now you stood right in front of them, out of their reach.

It tore them apart. They must have been going insane because you were not that girl they knew, you were not the girl they loved and doted on. But you were.

You couldn’t be. 

But they watched and they watched and they saw. They saw her. 

“It’s not her.” Jake’s voice was steel. Laced with a hardened grief. 

“I know what I saw, you know what you see.” Neytiri defended, unsure of how to explain it. 

He shook his head, pacing back and forth in the Marui, sliding a hand down his face. 

“She’s a Metkayina! She’s Ronal and Tonowai’s daughter! That's it.” He spoke so certainly, as if he were trying to convince himself.

The two breathed heavily, working through their mind and hearts to get their words. Logic wasn’t making sense, but they tried to cling to it, both of them in different ways. 

“Ronal didn’t give birth to her, nor did Tonowair father her.” Neytiris' words were heavy, like steel and stone. “A gift from Eywa, Ronal calls her.”

Their eyes met. 

At this point, they were haunted less by you and more by the fact that you were back. It wasn’t easy mourning someone, learning to accept their death after having grown to love them so fiercely, to learn how to live without them. All of that, only for them to appear again. 

All those walls they’d built, all the strength they’d planted in their grief, it was crumbling, the base of it all blowing away like sand in the wind. 

It almost hurt more than the grief itself. 

They simmered in it for weeks, speaking through glances and hushed whispers. 

It was quiet that day. Jake was making his rounds through the village when he heard it. The humming. Not just the humming but the tune.

Slowly, he rounded the corner, peaking around the Marui, eyes landing on you sitting on the edge of the walkway, legs dangling from an opening. You sat there, beading an arm piece as you hummed.

You hummed the lullaby Jake had used to sing that girl to sleep. The lullaby from Earth.

He felt his chest crack open. He wanted to say something, to reach out and speak to you-

“Sempu!” You called out, spotting Tonowari walk up from another direction. Wordlessly, you held up your work for him, a smile spreading across your face as he approached and knelt down.

“Ah, this is great work, my little ‘itetsyip.” He leaned in, hand reaching up to pull it closer to examine it. He grinned, nodding towards you. “You are an exceptional crafter.”

Jake watched the scene, brows furrowing, a weight resting in his chest. 

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, bah! You and Mother praise me far too much.” 

Tonowair simply chuckled, his hand moving to cradle your cheek as you grinned at him. 

“No, we simply see how great you are.”

Jake started to notice more after that. He watched not just you, but your life. How you wandered freely through the village, greeting your clan members eagerly, your cheerfulness returned. You were surrounded by kids your age, all watching you with a mix of adoration and respect. You bonded with your siblings, giggling over inside jokes and banter. 

Your parents were doting. They didn’t spoil you; they made sure you were responsible and self-aware, but they loved you, and they showed it. The more he watched, the more Neytiri did too; perhaps she’d been watching the full scene the whole time.

You weren’t alone.

You smiled so widely, and you never had to beg, you never had to work for attention or affection. You were accepted wholeheartedly. 

You had everything you wanted here, Neytiri and Jake realized. You had everything they wanted to give you, and you didn’t have any barriers. You weren’t human or parentless. You moved about freely. You weren’t raised to expect to come second, third, or fourth place. 

Neytiri and Jake had wanted to give you that life. But they couldn’t. They never could.

The Great Mother didn’t fulfill their desires to be the one to love you; she gave you what you needed. She gave you the opportunity to live. 

It was bittersweet. You had the life you wanted. You were loved. 

Just not by them. 

And that was ok. 

They’d lived their lives, they’d found happiness, a family, and they were good. 

You hear the door zips open, and you hear firm, steady stomps of trooper boots. At first you probably think it's Rex, or perhaps Howzer. Or maybe Kix even, wanted to check in with his brother who's gone to rest at your behest.

“Mesh’la…”

Caught.

Fireball sighs loudly, a sound of disappointment and yearning just behind your person. “What are you doing?” The distance between you and him recedes with each step. His hand falls to your shoulder before it slides across your collar bone and entraps you in a sloppy hug. “You need to be in bed.”

You're almost, almost swayed by the drowsy drawl in his voice to actually hit the bed again with him in tow. But your damn brain still wants you to be awake. You set your tea mug down, and rest your hand on top of his on your shoulder, squeezing. “I can't sleep, Fireball.”

“Apparently,” he remarks softly, and you can smell more disappointment coming off of him in tiny, tiny waves of it. Your beloved plants little kisses to your temple, as if begging you wordlessly, his voice drawls adorably when he speaks. “Something bother you?”

“No, nothing bothers me.” You tilt your head, his cool skin brushing against your flushed cheek, and capture his lips with your soft ones. The notion tugs a soft, drowsy whimper out of him. “I don't know,” you whisper, honest. “I just can't.”

“Maybe just feeling a bit restless.” Fireball’s warm amber eyes meet yours for a second before he kisses you again, pouting and murmuring against your lips. “Missed you. We should be sleeping together right now. We don't get night shifts today.”

You give him a noncommittal smile, which makes him pull the chair next to yours and root himself on it. Fireball yawns. His eyes are determined when he sets his eyes on you again.

“Do you want me to fireman carry you?” Although he's smirking, there's a hint of patience in his voice. He drags the damn wheeled chair to your side and holds your hand. “Hm? Knock your lights out and drag your unconscious body to bed?”

“I will hit you,” you chuckle heartily.

“Nah.” He leans into your space again and kisses your cheek. “Not gonna hurt anyway.”

Your sweet, sweet Fireball can be very clingy when he lets his guard down. Not to the point of being insufferable as he's still got dignity to upkeep, though. And yet secretly you also crave this side of him at all times—touchy, clingy, a one-minute silence away from dropping everything and falling asleep. His hair isn't as styled as it looks during the day, looking like he only jabbed his fingers through and combed it roughly to keep it away from his face not five minutes ago. Nevertheless, he looks adorable.

“Why are you wearing armor?” you ask, scratching at a slight dent on his dark green chest plate with your nail.

“Because my armor is me, and I am nothing without my armor.” Fireball’s warm, gloved hand squeezes yours. “You know that.”

You hum, reclining back against the chair. Your mug of tea is abandoned. “It’s so quiet tonight.”

“Preferable Teth situation on a normal basis.” If not for his lingering drowsiness, it would sound like a deadpan. Fireball clears his throat, his tone quirking. The gleam in his eyes tells you already. “I have a few ideas, if you're bored. All of them include this interactive and persuasive human connection called ‘let’s head back to bed and sleep'.”

Your guilt sinks to your stomach. “Fireball…”

“Mesh'la, please.” He squeezes your hand again, using his hold as leverage to pull himself into you. The tip of his nose nudging your cheek, lips dragging lazily across your jaw to persuade you to the very best of his abilities while sleepy. His breath is warm against your skin, murmuring, almost inaudible. “Please?”

All you want to do now is to grab his face and place soft kisses on his lips. Wordless sorry’s in every touch. Fireball deserves that after you left him alone. Deep pools of glistening amber plead to you, and you can no longer resist the proximity. You kiss him, capturing his lips between yours, holding a couple of seconds longer while putting your apology at the forefront of your heart and willing to let sleep engulf you at last.

“Okay,” you concede, holding him upright by the shoulders when he seems to fall asleep for a second. Your heart sinks further. “Fire?”

He blinks sleepily. “Hm?”

“I'm sorry if I hurt you somehow.”

“You didn't.” Fireball's smile is slow and dopey with all the amount of power he's got in order to fight the sleep as he gets up and towards the door. “I'm gonna find someone. Stay here.”

And it isn't long when your private midnight solitude is breached with the sound of the door opening. Your knees prompt you to stand upon the anticipated declaration of freedom—from the impromptu comms supervision, that is—and you're just as much as taken aback as Rex is when he lays his eyes on you. Fireball is absent anywhere near him.

“Oh it's you,” the blond captain muses, eyebrows raised upon the discovery. His eyes scan over your station for a nanosecond before returning to you with a flash of concern. “Everything okay so far?”

“Um, yeah, good.” You scramble out of the vicinity of your previous seat. You're still caught off guard by the sudden presence of Rex, suddenly feeling cornered. “Ahem. Next check-in is due in 8, though.”

Rex nods his head taking that in, though he seems like he still can't put what's missing, aside that you're not supposed to be on the hour yet. “Isn't Jesse supposed to be here?” he asks then, remembering.

You swallow. “I, uh, sent him away.”

Rex visibly relaxes. An audible sigh through his nostrils, sounding almost grateful for one less thing to worry about. “Yeah, he needed a lot of rest from the last one.” He runs a hand over his face, tired. “You? Can't sleep?”

“Yeah,” you let out an awkward chuckle, cheeks flushed from the embarrassing story starter bit that put you here in the first place. “Got busted, though.”

Rex takes the information kindly with a fond laugh of his own. “Yeah?” he asks, a clear-as-crystal teasing hint in his tone. “Where is he, then?”

As if everything's on goddamn cued that makes you regret even more than twenty seconds ago—you really should've never gone out of your and Fireball's shared quarters—your boyfriend saunters into the room with another trooper behind him, the confidence in his steps is put to an abrupt, almost alarmed stop when Rex pivots toward the door.

Fireball's eyes widened, as if the drowsiness melts away entirely from his body. “Rex.”

“Fireball.” Rex arches one eyebrow, craning his neck over to catch a glimpse of silver hair just behind your boyfriend. “Sinker. What, you got pulled out of duty?”

The 104th vet sighs, turns to a defeated Fireball with a gaze that says I told you so, and pats him firmly in the shoulder. “Sorry, dude. Busted.”

Fireball pats Sinker’s back with a lazy swing of the arm, in the process of slightly shoving the other trooper away to make space in the cramped doorway. “Yeah. Seemed to be the main theme of the episode,” Fireball mumbles, nowhere near grumbling but hilariously accepting. Once Sinker's fully gone out of the vicinity two seconds later, Fireball shrugs apologetically. “Sorry, Rex.”

Rex shakes his head, arms crossed, a tiny hint of a fond smile daring to stretch his lips. He tilts his head back at you, and then at the door. “Why don't you two get some rest since neither of you are supposed to be here anyway? I’ll watch the comms.”

Without wasting time to ponder over the generous permit and volunteer, you slip past Rex and join Fireball at the door with a quick shuffle of your feet, eager to escape the teasing glance the captain is throwing at the both of you as you go.

“Night, Rex,” you wave a little, the other hand already held by Fireball to drag you out of the damn comms room. The tips of his ears are also red. “Thanks. And uh, sorry.”

Rex makes a little shoo-ing gesture at you just before the door slams in your face when Fireball finally drags you away, and swift, in the direction of your shared quarters in another wing.

“Seriously.” Fireball squeezes your hand instead, wishing that he'd grab your face and smoosh your cheeks together out of aggression. “It needed to be Rex to get you out of there.”

You slap at his shoulder blade. “Whatever.” No matter how close and casual both of you are with Rex, it's still embarrassing to go through all that literally in the face of a leadership, for kriff’s sake. “Let's just go to bed.”

Arriving at your door, Fireball pokes your flushed cheek, grinning. “Oh so you wanna go back to bed now.”

You let out a whine against his deep chuckles, ducking underneath him to key the door open, cool sheets and thin pillows waiting for the both of you. “Would be nice if you shut your cake hole.”

“Been itching to say it, mesh'la,” Fireball grins, pulling you to his chest once both of you are inside and kissing your flushed cheeks and pouting lips with a sleepy yet intense brush of his affection.

Taglist: @yoursrosie @hellfiresky @filamentlights @msmeredithrose @heidnspeak @lucyysthings @emmaw18 @leiopython-rat @gh0st-c0mpany @br00kthe0takuuuu @ct7567329 @returnofthepineapple @gloriousinthebattle @nymphali-dae @leannathespacewerewolf @remotelyhauntedstatue

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