Chapter Text
The dark night settled thick over Awa’atlu, and Spider was hungry. The damp sand of the beach was cold and almost solid underneath his feet. Spider’s feet shouldn’t be touching the sand, they should be touching the netted floor of the Sully’s marui. But Spider was hungry, and unsure if he should eat the food they stored in there. It was for them, not him, although he lives in there with them. They might not mind, maybe even Neytiri, who liked him now. She warmed up to him when he tackled Neteyam with all his might to knock him out of the way of that bullet, and he’d bonded with her since. She told him not long after that she saw him. Neytiri saw him. He was a sully. He was blessed by Eywa. His life had reached a quality he never thought it would. But he would never really fit in. That didn’t matter much, though. He was officially a Sully, something he always dreamed of being. Now, a hungry Sully, hence the beach.
Spider stood in front of a large bush, abundant with pink, oval shaped fruits. Having less flowers than the forest, Pink was a rare colour amongst the Metkayina. It intrigued him.
He reached for the plump, juicy fruit, hoping desperately that he could test it soon and find it safe for human consumption with the bioscanner Norm had gifted him. Juicy and firm, it looked delicious, and hopefully wouldn’t kill him. He wasn’t used to not knowing what was safe for him and what wasn’t. Back in the forest he’d had everything practically memorised. It was different here, with the Metkayina people, and their land off the sea. As Spider tugged it from its secure place in the bush, a thorn he hadn’t seen in the dark night tore his skin, ripping it open like wet paper. Spider gasped and jumped back, ideas of gathering fruit abandoned.
Deep red blood ran down in a thick stream from where he’d been cut. The blood moved sluggish and slow, like Spider’s thoughts as he tried (and failed) to assess the danger of being a Skyperson cut by an unknown plant on Pandora.
His hand hurt. It hurt like hell. A terrible burn ran up his, no, through his arm, scorching him from the inside out. Invisible flames engulfed him, searing his skin. Spider let out a short, gut wrenching scream before clasping his mouth with his free hand. He didn’t want to wake the villagers. He didn’t know what this fruit was, or what it was doing to him. He didn’t know when it would stop, if it would stop. But he knew one thing; he had never felt such pain in his life.
And Spider knew pain.
Growing up a Skyperson amongst Na’vi, of course he did. As much as he adored the Sullys’ and his other Omaticaya friends, they never really seemed to register how much smaller Spider was than the rest of them. Somehow they would forget so easily, yet Spider could never even distract himself from it. Even Tuktirey was taller than him now. What would be a light push amongst the Na’vi could send Spider to the ground.
His play-fights with Kiri left him more injured than he’d ever let her know. Roughhousing with Lo’ak was always fun, but Spider could never help the small underlying fear that Lo’ak would accidentally go too hard, maybe break one of spiders brittle, weak bones. Tuk’s sweet hugs were always welcome, but she loved to squeeze to express all the love she has, and he would have to brace himself every time.
Not to mention Spider had been tortured. The idea of ever experiencing pain before that…machine seemed laughable. That had been the worst experience of his life, an unimaginable splitting force trying to crack into his brain. Spider had no doubts that had his dad Quaritch not saved him from it, he wouldn’t have survived it. Not with a functioning, in tact brain. He told the scientists to kill him, not just because death was a better fate than ever betraying the Sullys’, but also because death would a gentle, sweet relief in comparison to the torture he endured.
So yeah, Spider knew pain well.
And yet, nothing seemed to compare to the shooting, cracking, burning, splitting, angry pain in his arm. A broken, heavy sob forced its way from his chest, escaping him along with his breath. He wheezed and cried, like his body was trying to expel all the pain it felt through his lungs. He wanted to be quiet, the last thing he wanted to do was bother the villagers who didn’t seem to want him there (not that he could blame them). This had to be the end of him. He’d survived so much, but his luck was bound to run out eventually. Eywa and all her generosity had blessed him with Kuru, and the ability to breathe Pandoran air, both things Spider had longed and dreamed of forever, but what Eywa gave, she could take away.
Like a fire doused with water, the burning ceased. Like an object that had been on fire, evidence stayed. Dull and heavy pain remained like billowing smoke and its stench. It was painful, but such a relief from what had been that Spider could cry with gratitude. His sobs of pain slowly died down, replacing themselves with whimpers of distress.
Spider had survived another unbearable pain.
The crashing of waves sounded through the air, and Spider remembered he was lying on the sand. On his chest. Quite close to the water. Which was beginning to reach closer and closer to him as the waves grew bolder. He should get up. But he couldn’t. Jake could’ve, Neytiri could’ve, Neteyam could’ve, Kiri could’ve, Lo’ak could’ve, and Tuk could’ve, and just about everyone in the village above the age of a small child could’ve. Spider couldn’t.
He tried to push himself up off the sand, but his shaking arms were just too unstable, and he collapsed onto himself, only succeeding in hitting his chin on the floor. If the waves kept getting larger, which they would, they would reach him soon. He could easily be swept away.
As soon as Spider had begun to accept that as his fate, dying at the hands of the beautiful ocean, being killed by something the Na’vi loved and lived around, a pair of large blue hands wrapped around him and dragged him backwards. Jake? Maybe Neytiri?
Spider didn’t ask who they were or demand to be let go. He couldn’t.
Safely away from the water, they stopped dragging him. Using too much strength than it should have taken, Spider craned his neck to see his saviour. It turned out, he had saviours. A boy and a girl Metkayina kneeled next to him, leaning over his body with concern in their large, blue eyes. Spider didn’t know if he knew them. Spider wished he could study them a little closer, see if they were familiar, but everything was blurry and his eyes were trying to shut.
“Oh, you poor thing!” The girl gasped. “He’s so small.”
“Like a child,” the boy agreed.
Spider wanted to tell them he was likely their age, but had no ability to. All that came out was a strangled groan.
“Oh, shhh, shhh,” the girl soothed as she pet the back of his head with her large hand. “It’s all right small one, you’re safe now. Nothing can hurt you.” She spoke with such soft urgency, like Spider in distress was a terrible crime that she had to fix right away.
Spider felt almost offended, and his brain zoomed in on her choice of ‘small one’. But then his brain chose a different focus, and zoomed in on ‘safe.’ And ‘nothing can hurt you.’ She was holding him to her chest and patting his hair. And he hated it. It was embarrassing and he was her age and he didn’t know her! But what he hated more, was that he didn’t hate it, and it was stupidly comforting and he wished someone would hold him forever. It would be nice, he thought, to be precious to someone. Like their little treasure, having no worries… maybe that’s what it’s like for people with parents. Maybe that’s what it’s like for the Sully children, the real Sully children. She continued to stroke his hair, and despite himself, Spider let his eyes shut.
“We should take him to Tsahik,” the boy said, no room for argument in his determined voice. His eyes snapped back open. Tsahik? Him? No way. Spider’s panic was immediate. He hadn’t wanted to bother any villagers tonight, and now he was going to wake and bother the Tsahik? Spider was sure he wasn’t even fully welcome in her village, to inconvenience her more was out of the question. He tried to scramble out of the girl’s arms, weakly pushing her off him. But of course that didn’t work, Spider was weak and sick, and so he stayed nestled in her arms, despite his best attempts. He decided not to think about how even if he was at his full strength, the result likely would’ve been the same.
“Woah woah woah, slow down. You can’t walk by yourself, okay? You’re too hurt.” The boy urged, his hands up with his palms facing spider like he was making a ‘calm down bro , back off’ gesture. A frown creased his face and he added, “and you shouldn’t be here at this time by yourself anyway. You’re too little.”
The scolding from the boy his age made Spider feel about 2 inches tall. He couldn’t even tell if the boy meant ‘too little’ like one would say to a child who is too young to participate in such ‘big kid’ activities, or if he meant ‘too little’ like too short, like Spider had been his whole life. The phrasing made him feel squirmy and like he wanted to hide his increasingly red face. He tried to, dignity be damned at this point, and ducked his head into the girls shoulder.
Well, it was honestly closer to her chest. She was tall. The point was, he tried to hide himself with her as his shield.
“Let’s go,” she decided, cupping the back of Spider’s hiding head like it was the most natural thing.
“Right. I’ll carry him.”
Eyes shut tight once more, Spider registered the girl picking him up and gently passing him over to the boy, who held him just as gently. He held him so Spider lay horizontally in his arms, the boy supporting his neck and his knees. Spider knew vaguely that he should feel mortified over all this, two strangers assuming him a child and treating him like one before carrying him across the beach to see Tsahik, but the dull throbbing in his arm continued, and refusing help would be leaving himself in pain.
It was strangely peaceful. Being carried, someone clutching him, their steps providing a soothing, rhythmic bounce as they moved. The ocean continued its never ending song of background noise, the only noise heard on the silent beach except for the soft footsteps of the two walking. If it wasn’t for the pain, Spider could’ve drifted straight off. Being held close by a male Na’vi like this, although he was too small to be so, Spider could almost imagine this guy was Jake. It was nice in this guy’s arms, imagine how nice it would be in Jake’s. Jake was large, even for a Na’vi. His huge hands and muscles would dwarf Spider’s, and Spider would be so secure he wouldn’t even care who saw. But this wasn’t Jake, and besides, wanting to be babied by a man that isn’t even is father is weird, and so Spider squashed the thought down.
Far too soon, their steps stopped, and Spider knew they were outside the Tsahik’s marui. Like all the other marui, it was beautifully decorated with delicate, woven nets, which held intricate patterns. Despite brown being the primary colour of it, it had accents of a vibrant teals artfully placed to resemble the swirls of water. A few shells of various colours were embedded into the weaving, making the structure even more beautiful.
“Tsahik,” the boy called, his grave voice flowing through the silent home. Barely even a moment later, Tsahik Ronal appeared at the entrance, her large eyes focused on them immediately. Spider wondered if this was common for her, being woken at strange hours of the night by her villagers who needed aid. Probably. She likely tended to them gently and carefully, as was expected of Tsahik. But those were her villagers. Her people. Spider was a pest. An invasion to her home. A-
“What is this?” Her voice was snappish and demanded full attention.
“I see you Tsahik,” both Metkayina said hurriedly, making the familiar hand signal that accompanies it. The boy could only do a rough version, since his arms were occupied with Spider’s incapacitated body.
“We heard a terrible scream from our Marui, and when we followed it we found this Skyperson lying on his chest, crying.”
Spider couldn’t help the embarrassment that settled in his chest and surely made itself known on his face. She was telling Tsahik how he’d screamed and cried. And she wasn’t even exaggerating.
“Come,” Tsahik demanded as she turned in the entrance and walked briskly inside. The two followed immediately. Three technically, because Spider followed too, but then again, he didn’t have much choice.
“Lay him there.”
Spider was gently placed to lie down on a cot, like the ones Mo’at would use on the injured back home. The inside of this room in the marui held a few identical cots, and many shelves. The shelves were all occupied by various bottles and containers, undoubtedly holding Tsahik’s ointments, medicines, and treatments. Lying flat on his back, he couldn’t see much. Only the pretty patterns of the roof. But he could still hear, and what he heard was Tsahik grabbing bottles, different glasses clinking together as she gathered her materials. The girl was still running her hands through spider’s dreads, the calming action managing to prevent Spider from trying to escape the Marui after apologising to Tsahik for the inconvenience.
“What hurt him?” Tsahik questioned. Spider could hear the sound of liquid being poured into a surface, but still could only see the roof, and so did not know what was happening. Even if he could see her, he wouldn’t understand the workings of Tsahik.
It was the boy who spoke this time. “I’m not sure. We didn’t think to look.” His voice sounded guilty, embarrassed at such an overlook.
“Do not be sorry. You two did well by bringing him here, and I thank you. But now, I need my peace to work.”
The dismissal was clear. The two that brought him here were leaving now. Please no, Spider thought desperately (and pathetically). He didn’t even know them, but it was nice to have someone to depend on, latch onto.
Before leaving, the boy rubbed a circle onto spiders hand with his finger, and the girl traced the side of his face with the hand that had been patting his hair. Somehow Spider could tell what they meant, their well-wishes conveyed through a small touch.
The pair left, and Spider missed their presence.
He shut his eyes. He was hurt. He was tired. He was hungry. He wouldn’t cry over this, when he was safe and nothing was wrong, and he’d been through so much worse, but he could feel the heat behind his eyes and the lump in his throat anyways.
Tsahik had finished her preparations, which she’d done impressively fast. Now she stood next to spider, and grabbed his injured arm. The movement of his injury made Spider hiss from behind his teeth. A noise of the wounded, not a noise of the defensive. Spider hoped desperately that Tsahik could see that his hiss wasn’t intended to be a typical Na’vi hiss, one of anger and self protection.
Oh Eywa. He’d just hissed at Tsahik.
There was no way Spider would be allowed in the village after this.
Ignoring his rude hiss, she brought his arm up closer to her face for inspection. Her large eyes surveyed the cut carefully as she ran her long fingers along it. Spider held back the hiss this time.
Whatever she was looking for, she found it. She grabbed the things she’d mixed before and used a wooden stick thing with a soft thingy on the end of it to apply the purple paste she’d made to his skin. A cold shock darted up his arm, like the veins inside of him had been replaced with iced water, and with that, Spider passed out.