Chapter Text
The Sully family had just reached the edge of the water, when a sudden voice made them pause.
“Jake!” Tonowari called, approaching them with his own mate and children trailing behind him. “How are you, brother?”
“Good,” Jake answered amiably. “We were just on our way to visit the Cove of the Ancestors.”
“To thank the Great Mother for sparing our Neteyam,” Neytiri added as she wrapped her arm around their oldest son. “We have not had the chance to do so properly, yet.”
“Ah, yes.” Tonowari looked over Neteyam’s chest and nodded. “You look to be healing well.”
“I am, Olo’eyktan. Good as new.”
“No,” Ronal snapped, though her tone was much softer than it had been when they’d first come to Awa’atlu. If Jake didn’t know better, he’d dare say their family was growing on her. “You must be gentle with your body, child. You are not yet fully healed.”
“He is taking it easy,” Jake assured her. “And we thank you again for your help in his recovery.”
“I am tsahìk,” she answered simply.
“We are also going to the Cove of the Ancestors,” Tsireya chimed in, stepping out from behind her mother. Her eyes briefly met Lo’ak’s, and she gave him a small smile as she brushed her hair off her shoulder.
Jake looked back to Tonowari, unsure how the other would feel about them going to a sacred place together. He decided to offer, “If you want to go alone, we can—”
“Nonsense!” Tonowari boomed, clapping Jake on the shoulder. “Our children have gone together many times, yet we have not. This is the perfect time to change that. Hm?”
Jake nodded, and Tonowari mirrored the gesture, before leading the way into the water.
The trip was relatively quick, but that didn’t stop Jake from worrying about Neteyam every second of it. He wasn’t all that sure that he even wanted him back in the water yet—let alone riding an ilu. Jake must have spent half the trip looking over his shoulder to make sure he was still there. Since he’d been shot, he had hardly let him out of his sight—or any of his children, for that matter. He’d almost lost Neteyam. For a few traumatizing minutes there, he thought he had.
The only reason Jake had allowed for their excursion that day was because every member of his family woke that morning with an urge to visit the spirit tree. He wouldn’t claim to be an expert in how Eywa works, but he was pretty sure that was some sort of sign. And he’d be an idiot to ignore Eywa’s call after his son’s miraculous survival.
When they reached the cove, they all resurfaced—Kiri somehow having passed both Jake and Tonowari to end up nearest the spirit tree. Jake wasn’t sure how the hell she managed that, considering their tsuraks should have been much faster than her ilu, but whatever.
“I will never get over how beautiful this place is,” Kiri said reverently, as she slid off her ilu into the water.
“I have visited countless times, and it still takes my breath away,” Tsireya agreed.
“It is better under the water,” Ao’nung said. “You know, how you are supposed to view it.”
Tsireya pushed his head and he dove down into the water, his sister following after him.
“Impatient boy,” Tonowari sighed, shaking his head.
“He is not wrong,” Ronal reasoned, before slipping under the surface, as well.
Jake closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to slow his heartbeat the way Lo’ak had been teaching him, and then allowed himself to sink down. When he opened them again, he noticed that he had been left behind—the rest of their group already plugging into the spirit tree. Well, not all of them. Neytiri had waited, her tswin already in hand as she waved him over.
He had connected to spirit trees quite a few times since he’d come to Pandora—or, Eywa’eveng, as the Na’vi called it. He was Olo’eyktan, after all. So, as he watched the end of his tswin bond to the tree, he immediately knew something was off.
A bright white light drowned out his vision and a sudden pressure pushed at the edges of his mind as he felt like his soul was being sucked through a straw. He noticed an odd tingling sensation spread through his body—but it was over just as suddenly as it came on.
The light dimmed until he was looking up at a star-filled sky. He could feel the ground underneath him, softened by the grass tickling his ears. What the fuck happened?
“Sir,” Neteyam said, crouching over him with concern etched into his forehead. “Sir, we are trapped.”
Jake pushed himself up into a seated position as his head swiveled, taking in their surroundings. It was quite dark, but the bioluminescence of the plants around them lit the area decently enough. A few trees were scattered about nearby, but they became very densely-packed the further they were from the center of the clearing—where Jake was relieved to see that the entire group was. They were each in a varying state of confusion, but otherwise seemingly fine. Whatever was going on, it eased a bit of the tightness in his chest that he had eyes on his family—and that Tonowari was there to help if needed.
“Where are we?” Jake asked, noticing the familiar foliage from their home in the forest. It was just as beautiful as he’d remembered it.
“We do not know,” Neteyam said. “We cannot leave this area.”
“You say this like we are being held hostage by an enemy,” Kiri said, an irritated bite in her tone. “This is Eywa, brother.”
“Kiri is right,” Ronal agreed, her hand rubbing her pregnant belly as her eyes flitted about the plants around her ankles. “There is no reason to fear. We are in our Great Mother’s hands.”
“It looks like the forest,” Lo’ak noticed, running his fingers over the bark of a tree.
“But this is the ocean,” Tsireya said as she crouched beside a deep pool of water, which was lit by the glowing coral within it. She slowly swirled her hand around, and small orange fish swam excitedly around her fingers.
“Look over here,” Kiri called, directing their attention to a large white wall of water, shooting up from a crack in the ground. She reached out and touched it, briefly interrupting the flow, before stepping back. “The Great Mother is going to show us something. To help us understand.”
“Understand what?” Jake asked.
Kiri shrugged as she took a seat in one of the hammocks Jake suddenly noticed were strung between the trees by the water screen. “How would I know? She has not shown us yet.”
Jake thought his question was fair, considering Kiri sometimes seemed to have Eywa on speed dial, but he didn’t push it.
“What are you willing to show us, Great Mother?” Ronal asked the sky, as she joined Kiri in the hammock area.
As if answering, the distinct beating of drums filled the clearing—though Jake couldn’t tell where the sound was coming from. It was everywhere, but nowhere in particular, as if it was forming in the very air particles around them. The glowing water screen suddenly turned green, as a moving picture of the forest came into view—like a television from Earth.
Kiri waved the group over, and none of them hesitated to rush towards the hammocks, their eyes wide in awe as they stared at the screen.
Jake tensed as he recognized his own voice in the air, narrating, [When I was lying there in the V.A. hospital, with a big hole blown through the middle of my life, I started having these dreams of flying.]
“Is that… you?” Lo’ak asked, glancing over at Jake.
“I do not know,” Jake lied. What was going on?
“This is sky people’s language?” Ao’nung asked, tilting his head slightly to the side.
“Yeah—can you understand it?” Neteyam wondered.
“It is strange, but yes,” Tsireya answered for him. “My ears hear it as a different language, but my mind understands it the same as Na’vi.”
“Very strange,” Ronal agreed.
The banging of the drums grew louder as their view of the trees quickened, gliding fast as if they were on the back of an ikran—until the music stopped.
[Sooner or later, though,] —the scene cut to a close-up shot of a human man opening tired, hardened blue eyes— [you always have to wake up.]
“Fuck,” Jake cursed, his fist coming up to press against his mouth. This wasn’t him— hadn’t been him for so long. His stomach churned as he realized that his children were going to see him for the first time, before he was Na’vi. Before he was Toruk Makto, or the Olo’eyktan of the Omatikaya. Before he wasn’t such a despicable dumbass. What would they think? Or Neytiri, for that matter? He didn’t even want to know how Tonowari and his family would react. He was already ashamed enough by his failures as a Na’vi—he never thought he would be forced to have his failures as a human dug up and presented like this.
Why would Eywa want to expose this side of him?
[They can fix a spinal, if you’ve got the money. But not vet benefits, not in this economy.]
The screen zoomed out to show a very scruffy Jake in his beat up wheelchair, crossing the street with a mass of people—most, wearing filter masks.
Jake had almost forgotten how overcrowded Earth was, after living on Pandora for so long.
“That was you?” Tonowari asked, his eyebrows raised. It wasn’t unkind, per se, just surprised. “When you were a sky person?”
“Yes,” Jake confirmed with a grimace. “My back was injured in battle and I could no longer walk. I could not feel my legs at all.”
“Why did people wear masks?” Kiri asked. “Humans cannot breathe their own air, either?”
“It was dangerous to breathe because they accidentally made the air toxic from something called pollution.”
“But you are not wearing a mask,” Tuk pointed out.
Because he didn’t care what the toxicity was doing to his body at that time.
“I made bad decisions,” Jake told her. Neytiri, seemingly sensing his shame, leaned against him and nuzzled her cheek into his shoulder.
In Jake’s apartment, a tiny cubicle of a room, he was seated on a cot-like bed. He rocked side to side as he laboriously worked to get his pants off without assistance from his legs, which were white and atrophied from disuse.
Jake cringed at his old body. He’d been so grateful for his avatar, and more than happy to escape his weak human form.
“His biceps were bigger than yours, even when he was human,” Neteyam teased, nudging Lo’ak—who elbowed him in the stomach.
“Easy!” Neytiri hissed. “He is still healing—he does not need you to make another hole in him.”
“I am not that fragile, Mom,” Neteyam grumbled.
“He is right, Lo’ak—his muscles are at least twice as big as yours,” Ao’nung agreed. “You cannot even blame it on the dem- sky people blood.”
“I could still kick your—”
“Does this seem like the time to bickering like children? While Eywa is showing us something?” Kiri interrupted, shooting them both a glare that made them look back at the screen.
The too-familiar drunken cheers of a dirty, rowdy bar made Jake’s head fall back down towards his lap.
“Jake! Jake! Jake!” onlookers chanted as Jake was leaned back in his wheelchair, balancing with the front wheels off the ground. A tequila shot was carefully balanced on his forehead as a prideful smile flickered at his lips. Finally, he reached his hand up and dumped the alcohol into his mouth, before letting his wheelchair tip back onto four wheels with a celebratory shout.
“Are you drunk?” Lo’ak laughed.
“I was an adult.”
“I’m an adult,” Neteyam reasoned, “but you got mad when you caught me drinking swoa.”
“Because you are fifteen, Neteyam. I do not care if you are an adult in the eyes of Na’vi—you are still young,” Jake clipped. “I was twenty-two here.”
A giggle bubbled out of Kiri’s mouth, before she was able to hide it behind her fingers. “You were acting like a skxawng at twenty-two? Lo’ak, I see where you get it from!”
Lo’ak absolutely did get his recklessness and disobedience from Jake—but he prayed that his son would figure his shit out much sooner than he himself had.
[Let’s get it straight up front. I don’t want your pity. I know the world’s a cold-ass bitch.]
“You had a worse potty mouth when you were human!” Tuk accused.
“Yeah, well… I was a marine.”
“A marine?” Ronal questioned.
“Like… a warrior.”
“Warriors do not need to have foul mouths,” Ronal said, pointedly eyeing her son. “They should be respectable.”
“My mate is respectable,” Neytiri said fiercely. “I would like to see you lose your legs and not be angry enough to use foul language.”
Jake appreciated Neytiri’s protectiveness of him—he really won the mate lottery and thanked Eywa every day for it—but he definitely had a colorful vocabulary long before he’d lost his legs. Though, he wasn’t about to out himself when he had an excuse.
Tsireya gasped and brought her hands up to her mouth as a man backhanded the girl he was with, hard enough to send her toppling over—but he grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her head back before she even had time to cower from him.
Neteyam tensed, sitting up taller—and Lo’ak growled, his fists clenching. Jake couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride for the boys he’d raised. If they’d grown up on Earth, constantly around behavior like this, who the hell knew what they’d be like? Violence was so normalized there.
“Nobody even flinched!” Ao’nung pointed out, outrage twisting his features as he glared at the screen. “Is this how sky people treat their mates?”
“How are you so calm?” Lo’ak seethed as he looked over at Jake. “I would have ripped his head off.”
“He was drunk and had no legs,” Neytiri said—and Jake would be lying if he claimed he wasn’t at least mildly offended. He could still kick ass with his arms, thank you very much.
[You want a fair deal, you’re on the wrong planet. The strong prey on the weak.] Jake grabbed the wheels of his chair and pushed forward towards the couple, who were now seated on the bar stools. [It’s just the way things are. And nobody does a damn thing.]
Once Jake reached the man, he grabbed one of the legs of his barstool—and yanked it, flipping the chair and sending the man crashing down onto the ground. Jake immediately threw himself from his wheelchair down onto the man, getting a firm grip on his chest for support, before delivering a series of brutal punches straight to his face.
“Yeah!” Tonowari shouted, throwing his fist into the air. Jake couldn’t help but chuckle, a bit surprised by the support. It seemed Ronal was, too, by the way she swatted his arm in reprimand. He quickly composed himself and said, looking towards the children, “A formal challenge would have been much more honorable.” Though when Tonowari’s eyes met Jake’s, he gave him a proud nod.
“I am glad Lo’ak did not inherit your punch ,” Ao’nung playfully sneered in Lo’ak’s direction, who flipped him off with both hands—but the smile on his face was light-hearted. Jake was glad that they were learning to get along, despite their rocky start.
“I am impressed, Jake,” Neytiri whispered to him, her eyes flickering down to his mouth.
“Yeah?”
“Mhm. That was very attractive.”
“Ew, please stop,” Kiri cut in. “I am literally going to die if you flirt in front of us.”
“Ah, mind your business!” Neytiri told her.
[All I ever wanted in my sorry-ass life was a single thing worth fighting for.]
Two men carried Jake from the bar and threw him out into the alley, sending him sprawling on the pavement. He struggled to rise up on his elbows, but was slammed back down onto the ground as his wheelchair was hurled onto his back.
“I hope you realize you’ve just lost a customer!” Jake shouted as he managed to roll over, breathing heavily. Once the men were gone, he mumbled, “Candy ass bitch.”
As if the situation wasn’t pathetic enough, rain began to pour down on him. To nobody in particular, he shouted, “If it ain’t rainin’, we ain’t trainin’!”
“I want to be as drunk as you one day,” Ao’nung said, and Tsireya smacked him upside the head.
“Tell me when you are going to try, bro,” Lo’ak said.
Neteyam snorted in amusement. “So you can join him?”
“So I can laugh at him,” Lo’ak corrected. Quieter, he added, “And join him.”
“Nobody is getting drunk,” Ronal scolded, and the boys quickly fell silent.
Jake looked over as two agents wearing suits far too nice to be wandering around in a drenched alley approached him.
“Are you Jake Sully?” one of them asked.
“Step off,” Jake dismissed him. “You’re ruinin’ my good mood.”
The other man looked to the first, before revealing, “It’s about your brother.”
“You have a brother?” Tuk asked, leaning around Neytiri to look at Jake.
He had told Neytiri about Tommy, but he never got around to telling his children. Partially because there was no point to, as they would never get to meet him. It wasn’t the same situation as telling them of their deceased Na’vi relatives, who they could potentially connect to through the spirit tree. But mostly, he hadn’t told them because he’d never quite gotten over the fact that this life he’d built himself on Pandora was swiped from Tommy. It never should have been Jake’s—and it always made him feel a bit guilty whenever he’d think too much about it.
“I had one,” Jake clarified. “We were twins.”
“You looked the exact same!” Kiri noticed, as Tommy’s lax face was featured on the screen, his body laid out in a cardboard box. “Except he looked cleaner.”
“Kiri,” Neytiri warned, but Jake put his arm around his mate to calm her.
“Tommy was cleaner. And better behaved.”
[The strong prey on the weak. A guy with a knife took all Tommy would ever be, for the paper in his wallet.]
“For what?” Tonowari asked. “Why was he killed?”
“For money,” Jake answered, unsure how to explain its significance to humans. The Na’vi did not have the same monetary or bartering system. “Sky people use something called money to get food, clothes, jewelry, houses—whatever they want or need. I guess it could be similar to if you wanted to hunt, but did not have a spear, so you kill me to take mine.”
“That is horrible,” Tsireya said, her eyebrows pinched together. “I am sorry for you and Tommy.”
“Thank you, kid.”
“Your brother represented a significant investment,” one of the agents from earlier said. “We’d like to talk to you about taking over his contract.”
Jake watched as the cardboard box holding his brother was closed and sealed with tape, like a package ready to be shipped, before it was rolled into the furnace.
“Sky people burn their deceased?” Ronal asked, her eyes wide as the box went up in flames.
“Sometimes.”
[The egghead and the jarhead. Tommy was the scientist, not me. He was the one who wanted to get shot light years out into space to find the answers. Me—I was just another dumb grunt gettin’ sent some place I was gonna regret.]
“I bet you did not think you would end up mated and with children back then,” Neteyam said, ruffling Lo’ak’s braids—who waved his hand away in annoyance.
“No, I could not imagine that,” Jake agreed. If someone had told him then that he would end up falling in love with a giant blue alien and having four children with her, he would have told them to go fuck themselves with their insane prophecies.
“Do you regret coming here?” Kiri asked.
“Not even a little bit,” Jake said, without needing to think. “I had no idea how beautiful this place was, or how much I would fall in love with it. The nature, the people—I would not trade this for anything.”
Inside the furnace, the fire quickly ate away at Tommy’s cardboard coffin. His face came on the screen once again, wreathed in flame—before the scene abruptly changed to Jake’s own face in the icy darkness of cryo. Everything was still for a moment, before his eyes flew open as he took a sharp breath.