Chapter Text
Spider was, in every sense of the word, a drifter.
He drifted from the safe, clinical embrace of the laboratory he was raised in, to the hostile, toxic jungles where he grew up. Drifted from his family of exhausted scientists who tried their utmost to keep up with him to the family of natives who constantly left him in their dust. Drifted from human to Na’vi.
Despite being constantly surrounded by people, Spider’s life had been a lonely one. But over time, he had learned how to live with the pain; that dull, barely-there jab in the chest that never seemed to leave no matter how much he tried to shrug it off.
He had always liked to imagine himself as a lone wolf of sorts. A cool, brooding wanderer who would come and go as he pleased; the whole of Pandora was his to explore. The sentiment invoked a sense of freedom that nobody else on the entire planet possessed. The world belonged to him, and he belonged to nobody.
But even lone wolves needed a pack sometimes.
And that was where the Sullys came in. Spider wasn’t entirely sure how he had come into their lives (barged in, according to Norm and Max), but the children had accepted him without hesitation; Jake a little less so; Neytiri with bared fangs. It took a year of her trying to pry him away from her family and dumping him back at the lab—only for him to come running back on all fours like some feral puppy—before his stubbornness outmatched hers and she reluctantly agreed to let him be around their children—so long as it made them happy.
The little stray that hung around for scraps of a sense of belonging.
Spider shook his head in shame. He should have been grateful. The other Na’vi wouldn’t so much as give him the time of day, never mind letting him walk among them. Painting blue stripes all over his body seemed to have worked on the wildlife of Pandora as they were just a little less hostile towards him (Jake didn’t have to fend off the Ikran from trying to pluck him off the ground for a snack anymore) but he wasn’t fooling anyone else.
Not even himself.
He hated how intense the Na’vi’s glares were; their piercing yellow eyes burning straight into his soul when he turned his back to them for more than a few seconds; Neytiri’s was particularly scathing. Spider often glanced over his shoulder just to make sure she wasn’t planning to put an arrow in his back.
Not that he could blame her. He couldn’t blame any of them for being...overly cautious, to put it kindly.
Why would any self-respecting Na’vi want the son of Colonel Miles Quaritch—the demon who had burned the Omaticaya clan’s hometree and slain their people without mercy— anywhere near them or their children?
Pity, in Jake Sully’s case.
Being human himself once, as well as the indirect cause of the Colonel’s mass slaughter, he had decided to take a young Spider under his wing and teach him a few tricks on how to use the skills of both the na’vi and humans to the best of the boy’s...limited abilities. Discreetly, of course, as he was under Neytiri’s constant fierce gaze.
Spider was grateful. For Jake. For Kiri, Lo’ak, Neteyam and Tuk. He was even grateful for Neytiri, in a weird way, as she always kept him alert and thinking on his feet—an indispensable skill to have in Pandora. He was grateful for the sense of bonds—however fake they were—that he had with them. The Sullys were a family, and families stick together, right?
Wrong.
When it came to the mother, father and the kids, this much was true. What kind of parents abandoned their children in need? Not very good ones; Spider should know, and if there was one thing Jake and Neytiri were not, it was bad parents. They would risk life and limb if it meant keeping their brood safe.
However, family pets were of less... significance. After all, who would go out of their way to rescue a feral brat that just hung around like a bad smell?
And so, the stray had finally been caught and shoved into a cage. Much to Neytiri’s delight, probably.
Spider snorted; he imagined her consoling Jake and the kids and doing a happy little victory dance when their backs were turned. Hell, the rest of them probably didn’t care much either way.
Except Kiri. Kiri would care.
The thought of her crying made Spider’s heart wrench and inspired a new-found vigor to find a way out of this place and get back to her.
The room he was trapped in was akin to the lab that Norm and Max tried to keep him in when he was too young to wear an oxygen mask and too keen to go exploring outside. However, it lacked the warm hum of the machines or the scattered coffee mugs that were never finished or the excited chatter of the scientists that kept a watchful eye over him. This place was...cold, clinical and cruel. Especially with that general lady in charge.
Spider absently picked at the dried blood that ran from his nostril to his top lip. His head was still pounding from that hell-hole machine they had strapped him into. The general’s eyes bored into him much like Neytiri’s often had, not paying any heed to his cries and pleas for her to stop. He wasn’t sure what would have happened there and then. He sure as hell wasn’t going to tell them where Jake and the others were (he was loyal after all, as any family pet should be). The general probably would have kept him there until his brain exploded or something.
Until Quarit—his father stepped in.
Could he even really call that guy his dad? The real Quaritch was long gone—brought to a fitting end by Neytiri. But this...avatar held his father’s memories, his thoughts, even his personality; a Recombinant, Jake said they were called. A blank slate that had been painted on to replicate the original; it was close enough to the real thing but still a little rough around the edges.
Kiri often visited the lab to watch old video logs of her birth mother, Grace, to try and get a sense of what she was like as a person: no-nonsense, knowledgeable and loyal to the bitter end. Spider had done the same for his father—much to Norm’s vexation—and he had quickly learned that Quaritch was none of those things. He was a monster that killed people for fun and spit on their graves for good measure.
And yet...
When Spider came face to face with him during the ‘personal approach’, as Quaritch had so plainly put it, he had expected a worse interrogation than with the machine. All sorts of terrible scenarios had run through Spider’s head; restraints, teeth pulling, tasers, burning, the list went on and on. He had resorted to hiding under the table, as if that would do him any good. Escape was futile too, how was one supposed to dodge past a literal giant with long ass arms?
It dawned on Spider then that he was just going to have to accept his fate. He wouldn’t give up the Sullys location, no matter what. He would rather have died. Missed by nobody.
Except Kiri.
Though as the teenager psyched himself up for what was probably going to be a very painful death, it seemed as it was all for naught, as Quaritch simply entered the room, gave him an ultimatum; help the RDA navigate their way through Pandora to find Jake or go back through the hell-hole machine with general iron lady.
Then...he left, saying that he would be back in ten minutes to hear Spider’s decision.
That was it.
Where was the all-high-and-mighty macho-man from the video logs? The demon that killed entire civilizations? The brute that wouldn’t hesitate to risk anything and everything to succeed in the mission? Because that certainly wasn’t him. Sure, he was still a little tough and assertive, making sure Spider knew who was in charge and all but he was just too... soft.
It was as if he was trying to be like his father—the real deal—but was struggling to get the exact mannerisms just right. Spider couldn’t imagine what that was like, pretending to be a past version of yourself that was dead. It was so...messed up.
“How are you holdin’ up, son?”
Spider flinched at the sudden presence by his side and instinctively hopped off the table to create some space between him and the 9ft avatar that somehow managed to get into the room without him noticing.
‘Can’t be zoning out like that,’ Spider thought. ‘I never do that out in the forest, what the hell’s wrong with me?’
Quaritch stayed seated on the table, his back hunched a little as he clasped his hands tightly together. He made no move to grab Spider as he backed himself up into a corner and even attempted a small, strained smile when the boy’s eyes flickered up to meet his momentarily. It was unnerving, seeing his not-dad try to look as non-threatening as possible, but he appreciated the gesture. Kinda.
“You looked like you were zoning out a little there,” Quaritch said, as if he were reading Spider’s mind. “You uh...probably have a lot to think about, huh?”
“Yeah, no shit,” Spider snapped back. “And... don’t call me that.”
“Huh?”
“Son. You called me son. I’m...not.”
Quaritch recoiled a little but held up his hands and nodded. “Ah, you’re right. Just a... force of habit, is all. Won’t happen again.”
Spider nodded and looked away as they fell into an uncomfortable silence. The boy settled down and brought his knees up to his chest to hug them, much like he had done during their last meeting. His eyes wandered up, and he saw that Quaritch’s smile, small and strained as it was, had been replaced with a more characteristic grim line as he brought a hand up to his chin and rubbed it, no doubt contemplating his next words carefully.
Spider decided to beat him to it.
“I’ve thought about what you said earlier,” Spider said. “Y’know, when you asked me to help.”
He had Quaritch’s full attention now as the colonel slowly nodded and gestured with his hand silently for Spider to continue.
The boy looked away and grinned, keeping the agitated colonel in suspense for one second too many.
“C’mon so- Spider ,” he quickly corrected himself. “I don’t got all day now.”
Spider shrugged. “I’ll do it.”
Quaritch’s ears pricked up and, no matter how hard he tried to hide it, his smile returned.
“You will?”
“Not like I have much of a choice in the matter.”
“Now, that’s what I like to hear!” Quaritch suddenly slapped his thighs as he stood up to his full height and approached Spider, who nervously scrambled to his feet, stopping just short of him to bend down and raise his hand. The teen flinched but stood his ground, letting out a relieved—if not a little annoyed—sigh when the colonel gently tapped his temple.
“I knew there was a smart brain in there somewhere,” Quaritch chuckled, putting an arm around Spider’s shoulder as he started to lead them both out of the room. “Glad you finally came to your senses.”
“Uh...thanks?” Spider wasn’t really sure how else to respond. “W-where are you taking me?”
“Well, you’re one of us now, aren’t ya? Part of the team!” Quaritch said with a light slap on the boy’s back, though it was still hard enough that Spider was sure he dislocated something. “Can’t have you staying in that dingy little room any longer. You’ll be bunkin’ with myself and the Recom team.”
Spider wanted to argue. To scream that he wasn’t one of them and that he would never be one of them. Because they were all monsters, and he wasn’t . He wanted to rip Quaritch’s hand away and make one last daring escape to be with his family. His real family. Even if he had no oxygen mask, he would still find a way because the bond he had with the Sullys was so strong, so powerful, that it would triumph over all logic.
So why was he still here? With this...weird fuzzy feeling blossoming in his chest? Was he having a panic attack right now?
If he wasn’t, he was about to.
“And who authorized this?” A piercing voice asked from behind, stopping them both in their tracks.
Spider followed Quaritch’s lead and slowly turned towards General Ardmore, who was standing there, stiff as a board with her arms behind her back and a look that would make even an ikran flinch.
“Because it certainly wasn’t me.”
Spider’s breaths were short and shallow as she stared him down like a palulukan would a yerik as its next meal. Her steel blue eyes held an authority that nobody else could pull off, not even Neytiri. Everyone around them gave the three a wide berth as they passed by, in fear of getting within her line of sight.
Words struggled to form in Spider’s dry mouth as a lack of breath suddenly overcame him. His lungs worked tirelessly to bring in much needed oxygen and he felt like he was drowning in toxic air. His hands absently went up to his face to re-adjust his oxygen mask, only to be reminded that he wasn’t outside.
Now he was having a panic attack.
“Ah, general,” Quaritch greeted, a slight edge to his tone. “I have some good news; Spider here has agreed to assist us in our search for Jake Sully. Ain’t that right, boy?”
As if to reiterate the point, Spider felt Quaritch squeeze his shoulder ever so slightly, to which he responded by silently nodding, too focused on breathing to talk.
“I see,” Ardmore responded, her face giving nothing away. “That is good news, colonel. But I see no reason why he shouldn’t remain in his quarters in the meantime.”
Spider felt Quaritch tense up as she continued.
“That child is feral and a danger to all personnel on this ship. Including himself,” she said, pausing to eye up the cuts and bruises he had self-inflicted during his previous tantrum in the holding cell, throwing the furniture around and bashing his fists against the windows. “It would be beneficial for everyone involved if he remained...contained.”
Trapped .
The teen could feel his hackles rising as a pang of raw fear rose from his gut and took a grip of his chest. He couldn’t go back in there. He just couldn’t! All it had taken was one hour for him to go berserk; what would days, weeks, months do to him?
Spider felt pressure on his shoulder again, as if Quaritch was silently telling him to calm down.
“Technically,” the colonel slowly started off. “It ain’t really Spider’s quarters. It is a prison room. For prisoners. Which Spider ain’t anymore. Since he’s helping us out.”
Ardmore gave Quaritch a long hard stare at his patronizing tone, his towering height doing nothing to daunt her in the slightest. The colonel seemed to notice this as he brought about a more friendly demeanor.
“And I will make sure that our little hotshot here remains on his best behaviour. A model citizen. Huh?” Quaritch wordlessly encouraged Spider again with a light jostle.
‘Eywa, I’m getting sick of these pet names,' he thought while replying with a deadpan, “Yes, sir.”
“See? Nothing like a bit of military trainin’ to iron out those wrinkles” Quaritch said as Ardmore rolled her eyes. “I do believe this is the best decision. For everyone involved.”
The sudden shift in tone briefly reminded Spider of the old video logs of his father; the surface was charismatic, but underneath was a corrupt beast that would get what he wanted through any means necessary. And that beast was threatening to break free right now.
It seemed that the general was also reminded of his nasty streak, as there was a blink-and-you-miss-it flinch that broke through her tough façade. But Spider didn’t miss it.
“Fine,” she bit back, avoiding eye contact with either of them. “But he is to be under your supervision at all times, is that clear?”
“Crystal,” Quaritch replied, and they were already turning and walking away before Ardmore could even dismiss them.
‘Holy shit,’ Spider thought as they weaved through the crowds. ‘Holy shit that was actually kinda cool and scary as hell, she looked like she was gonna crap herself.’
A wry grin slowly formed on his lips.
‘Serves her right.’
Spider stole a quick glance up towards the colonel as they marched; his impassive expression was betrayed by his folded back ears. He looked pissed . Spider reminded himself to never get on this guy’s wrong side.
“And here we are,” Quaritch tiredly announced as they entered the SecOps living quarters. It was...basic. The bunk-beds of silver metal with their rough canvas mattresses were jammed end to end on both sides of the long, drafty room. At the end of the central aisle the light shone dimly through the window onto the grey bedding and steel-clad floor. Outside to the horizon were the lush green forests of Pandora, wild and beautiful.
Spider felt a primal surge to try and escape again.
“This’ll be where you sleep,” Quaritch cut in before he could act upon his instincts. “The cafeteria is down the hall there, shower rooms are that way, and the medical room is just ‘round that corner.”
Spider tried to follow all the directions the colonel fired at him, but his head was spinning.
“Go get yourself cleaned up and put those on,” Quaritch gestured to the neatly folded pile of clothes on the bed. “I’ll go get something for those cuts you gave yourself before they turn nasty.”
And with that, he was gone.
Spider raised an eyebrow at the camouflage uniform that lay waiting for him on top of the immaculately made-up bed that just happened to be underneath Quaritch’s bunk. It was almost as if he had been anticipating his long-lost son’s arrival.
He shook his head; it was probably just coincidence.
While there was no way in hell he was wearing those stupid clothes, he did need a shower. Badly. So, after twenty minutes of trying to find the damn shower room in this maze of a ship, Spider finally managed to stumble upon it by blind luck and picked a cubicle that was far away from prying eyes. The shower came as the warmest of summer rain, and as he closed his eyes, he imagined himself under the wide, blue skies of Pandora once more.
Spider’s moment of bliss came and gone, and after he got lost (again), winding up in the farthest reaches of the ship—and had to be escorted back—he finally returned to the dorms and came face-to-face with a less than amused Quaritch.
‘Ah shit.’
“And just where have you been?” The colonel asked, holding up his hand when Spider opened his mouth to answer. “That was a rhetorical question. Are you seriously trying to bail out on me again? Do you have any idea the strings I had to pull to get you outta that cell? All it would take is one damn mistake for General Ardmore to—!”
“I got lost,” Spider managed to quickly cut in, holding up his hands in a bid to calm the rising tension.
“You got...lost,” Quaritch repeated, his eyes narrowing.
“Yeah. Not exactly used to a bunch of metal corridors that all look exactly the same.”
“Well—”
Besides, why would I try and bail out when I don’t even have an oxygen mask?”
Now it was Quaritch’s turn to hold up his hands in defense as he nodded. “Alright, alright. I’ll give ya the benefit of the doubt.”
Spider breathed, relieved that his onslaught of logic seemed to work. Jake and Neytiri never would have bought it, since Spider did stupid and risky stuff that got him lost or into trouble pretty much ninety percent of the time, but Quaritch didn’t know that.
Yet.
“Ever get lost again just...ask for help next time.”
Spider glanced away. “Yes, sir.”
Quaritch looked at him for a moment.
“You planning on getting dressed anytime soon?”
“I am dressed,” Spider retorted, choosing to lock eyes with him this time, to show that this was a subject he would not back down on. If he was going to have to wear those ugly threads, then he wouldn’t go down without a fight.
The colonel’s ears flicked back momentarily, but if he wanted to say something, he seemed to have decided against it.
“Fair enough. Now, you uh...you hungry?”
Spider blinked at the sudden change of subject, surprised—if not slightly disappointed—that Quaritch wasn’t going to fight him on it. This guy just seemed to change attitudes at the flick of a switch. At least with Neytiri, Spider knew where he stood but this...this was unnerving, to say the least.
“Not reall—”
“Get this down ya,” Quaritch interrupted, all but shoving a hot bowl of...something into Spider’s hands. The boy took a moment to sniff it and recoiled at the scent.
“Yeah, we all react like that at first but it ain’t so bad,” Quaritch waved him off before sitting on the bed, gesturing for Spider to sit next to him.
Silently doing as he was told, he tried not to gag at the repulsive gruel that he shoved into his mouth, hoping that the scalding heat didn’t do permanent damage to his mouth and throat. All the while trying not to flinch or gasp as his wounds were attended to. If you could call viciously rubbing with stinging alcohol that.
At this rate, Spider would have preferred General Ardmore and the hell-hole machine.
“Christ, you don’t need to inhale it,” Quaritch softly chastised. “You’re gonna choke.”
“I’d rather choke on it than taste it,” Spider said under his breath.
“What was that?”
“Nothing,” Spider wiped his mouth and put the bowl aside. The avatar seemed to take the hint and finished up cleaning the cuts, much to the teen's relief. He was grateful the dried blood and dirt had been cleaned away, but Spider had suffered enough for one day. He just needed to lay his spinning head down and sleep it off. Then when he could think straight, come up with a plan to escape this place and get back to the Sullys.
Maybe when he woke up, this whole nightmare would be over.
Or at the very least, he could dream.
“Thanks for the um...food,” Spider wondered if he could even call it that. “But it’s been a long day and...” he trailed off, hoping Quaritch would get the message. He didn’t know why but he felt almost...frightened? Ashamed? To say that he was tired and needed sleep. Either he was going to get the sympathetic response of “I understand” or the disapproving “Soldiers don’t need sleep” or some shit that the military liked to spit at kids like him.
Thankfully, it was the former.
“I understand,” the colonel said with a hand to the shoulder. “I’ll leave you to rest up and re-gain your strength, you’ll need it. We’ve got a long road ahead of us.”
Spider felt a pang of dread at that but said nothing as Quaritch gave him a light pat before standing and making for the shower rooms. He paused for a moment then and turned with a smirk.
“Stick by me, son, and I’ll do right by you. But if you think about betraying the cause, you’ll not only have General Ardmore and the whole of the RDA to answer to. But you’ll have to answer to me as well,” Quaritch breathed and pointed a finger at Spider as if to emphasize his warning.
“Do not make that mistake.”
Spider strained a smile and nodded. His heart thumped hard in his chest, and out of all the racing thoughts in his head, only one stood out amongst the rest:
‘I am not your goddamn son.'