Work Text:
the people say that all energy is only borrowed
and one day, you have to give it back.
Lo’ak stared down at the clear ocean from the height of a rock he’d found, away from the prying eyes of the village. He had hated the way they looked at him before, but this was somehow worse. Before, they had looked at him like he was a freak of nature, a forest person with demon blood who had no business intruding on the Metkayina. He expected this of them. But now they only stared in pity. Pity was the wrong word. These people looked downright horrified at what had happened to his family. What could’ve happened to anyone, and did for some. He couldn’t escape their anguished gazes, like they couldn’t even imagine it. Like the mere thought might leave them bursting at the seams. He couldn’t blame them, but he didn’t need more anguish. He had enough for himself.
He could tell it was getting late, as the sky began to darken. Just as it had the night before, just as it would tomorrow. It felt wrong that it still did that. It felt even more wrong that it would brighten up again in the morning just like nothing had happened. It felt wrong that the planet would keep spinning, tight in its orbit, while Lo’ak would stay staring at his blood soaked hands, knees bolted to the jagged rock. Right where Neteyam had left him. It felt wrong that over the ocean people were living their lives without ever even knowing his brothers name and what he had done. That stars light years away could not hear how every inch of his soul screamed for this mistake to be rectified. Someone would come looking for him soon to take him home. He didn’t care.
He had cried enough in the days post his brothers funeral, he did not need to cry any more. He took in a sharp breath, roughly shutting his eyes, willing away the tears. A voice called out from behind him, breaking him out of his thoughts.
“Lo’ak? Are you here?” It was his father.
Lo’ak paused for a moment, hesitating to respond. “Yeah, Dad. I’m over here. Sorry.”
His father emerged from the trees, making his way towards the rocks he was seated on. His face was contorted into a slight grimace. “It’s alright, you aren’t in trouble. It’s getting late though. Your mom is worried about you.”
Lo’ak grimaced as well. “I don’t mean to worry her,” he answered quietly.
Jake stayed silent for a few seconds, before sighing almost inaudibly and sitting next to him on the rocks. “She knows that, son. We all know. You haven’t done anything wrong, just everyone’s real on edge at the moment after everything that happened.”
Neteyam’s death had changed his father. He wasn’t as protective, angry. He was sure that, if the time came, he could reclaim that mantle with ease, but through day to day life he seemed almost too tired to keep going. A terrible recollection flashed quickly through Lo’ak’s brain. Of his dad, drowning on the ship. At first, he had assumed that his father had called for Neteyam because he wished it were Neteyam still standing instead of him, but over the short but growing number of days since the fight, a small nagging thought had made its way to the forefront of his mind. That his father believed he was dead already. That he believed it and he was okay with it. That his father, Toruk Makto, had given up. Tears sprung back into his eyes.
“I don’t want to talk about that,” he spoke almost in a whisper, desperate to move on from the subject. Silence lingered in the space between them until he feared that maybe he’d upset his father. Screwed up even worse. Worse than getting his firstborn son killed.
“Did I ever tell you I had a brother?”
Lo’ak startled at the confession. The fear he’d held just a moment before melted away slightly, giving way to a new wave of curiosity. “Really?” He looked up at his father, who stared straight at the horizon as he spoke.
“Yeah. His name was Tom. Called him Tommy. He was six minutes older than me.” He grinned a little, still staring straight ahead.
“He was your twin.” He looked back down to the ocean floor below them.
Jake nodded. “He was a scientist. A damn good one too. He was real passionate about it. I never understood him when we were kids. He was always reading something or studying for some test. He had this ambition that I could never match. I teased him for it sometimes but it was only because I knew he was gonna get exactly what he wanted and I didn’t even know what to ask for. He was studying to come here. He wasn’t like the military guys who just wanted money and orders to follow. He wasn’t like me. He worked his ass off to get here and do some good. I figured he’d be the one to really make a difference. You know, instead of joining the army just for something to do.”
He was a scientist. Lo’ak took a second to digest this information. He was. “What happened to him?”
“He was shot.” Jake let the silence hang heavy in the air for a moment.
Lo’ak looked at his dad, who had continued staring at the horizon. “By who?” He murmured, worried he had asked too much.
“I don’t know.” Jake looked down from the horizon at the ocean. “They never found them. It was just somebody who wanted his wallet. All of it, over in a few seconds.”
The young boy was familiar with the concept of money, although it never really struck him as necessary. The people helped each other. Shouldn’t humans care to do the same? If Tom was truly as brilliant as his father said he was, how could it be fair that he would be gone so fast, without ever fulfilling his purpose. Without ever living up to his potential. He had no responses.
“This body was supposed to be his. They grew it for him, before he died.” Jake added quietly.
“If he survived you never would’ve come?”
The question pounded in his head stronger than he had expected. If he survived we would not exist.
“They would never have let me. Like I said, I never had the ambition Tommy did while I was on earth. Plus, I’m no scientist, son. They were already pissed about having to drag my ass along even when they had no choice.” He chuckled bitterly.
Lo’ak pondered this. “But why? You were a marine, right?”
“Yes, I was.” His voiced was laced with a slight surprise, as if he didn’t expect his son to remember. “I was just more effort than the RDA deemed worth it for someone with no prior knowledge or understanding of the planet.”
Lo’ak made a quiet humming noise, confused still. He scrunched up his eyebrows trying to make sense of it all. Beside him, Jake made a noise halfway between a sigh and a chuckle.
“I was shot too, kid. In Venezuela. It paralyzed me from the waist down.”
The young Na’vi turned his head towards his father with wide eyes. This time, the man met his gaze with a slight grin. “You never told me that.”
“I didn’t think it was a good bedtime story to tell your children. It was kind of a nightmare for me honestly. But maybe I was wrong about that. I’ve been wrong before.”
The two made eye contact again, an unspoken thought on display through Jake’s eyes. Slightly stunned by the comment, Lo’ak recovered as quickly as he could. “They didn’t want to help you?”
Jake held his breath for a moment, directing his gaze back to the horizon. He had never meant to forget his past, he had simply thought of it as irrelevant to this new life he was leading. Maybe he was wrong about that too. The more he thought about the sentiment, the more offensive it became. His past couldn’t be irrelevant because Tommy was his past now and he could never be irrelevant. Maybe he never ended up telling his children any of the stories he had because they were bleak in comparison. A grey and dying planet which he had taken so much of for granted during his time there. Nobody cared enough to save the Earth. He didn’t care enough. Not even Tommy gave it much thought, his mind almost exclusively belonged to Pandora. Where was the humans connection to their mother? Where was their love for the world that gave them life? Was it fair that they looked down on her for shortcomings they had forced on her? That they expected her to heal both herself and the beings who had forsaken her? Maybe Earth deserved at least the stories to be passed along. For the universe to know the injustice dealt by those who she could not save, and who would not save her.
“No, they didn’t. The surgery is there if you can pay. But I couldn’t, so I learned to live with it. I remember lying in the hospital bed thinking ‘it cannot get worse than this.’ And then Tommy was gone. All of a sudden all I could think was what happens now? All of the dreams he had - whos are they now? Are they gone with him? Are they mine? They didn’t feel like mine. All of the ambition he had - does that pass along? All the love he had, for Pandora, for me, where does all of that go. Does he get to keep it?”
“Did you ever figure it out?” Lo’ak’s heart weighed heavily in his chest. He knew everything his dad said, every feeling, every sentiment. He knew everything, not for Tom, but for Neteyam.
“No. I don’t think I ever will. But what I did figure out was that I didn’t need Tommy’s dreams or ambition or love. I didn’t need any of it because I had plenty of my own. I didn’t need him to give me his dreams or his love because I made my own,” Jake paused. “I wish he was here though. So I could tell him that I finally understand him, or thank him or something. In some other world I think he’d really loved to have met you.”
Tears sprung into Lo’ak’s eyes for the third time as his fathers words circulated in his mind. He took a deep breath, trying to steady his voice before he spoke. “How did you learn to live with it?”
“I never did.” Jake grimaced, glancing at his son. “I just kept living. Even when all I could think was that I should’ve called him that day. Reached out a little more often than I did.”
“You didn’t blame yourself for it?”
Jake’s breath hitched slightly at the comment. “No, I did. But Lo’ak, It wasn’t my fault,” He reached over and placed a hand on his sons shoulder. “It wasn’t your fault either.”
The dam finally broke and Lo’ak was crying again. Swiftly, Jake pulled him into his side and hugged him as he broke. “I’m sorry,” he cried, muffled until he couldn’t tell who was apologising anymore, him or his father.
It was dark when they walked through the village side by side. The two sped quickly towards home, both hyper aware of the time. As they approached their familiar living quarters, Lo’ak could faintly hear the sound of Tuk, Kiri and his mother conversing inside. He took a breath to ready himself before stepping in.
Neytiri’s eyes snapped up immediately. “Lo’ak!” She sighed in relief. “You’re supposed to be back by eclipse. Do not worry us this way.”
“I’m sorry, mom. I didn’t mean to–” Lo’ak began, but was cut off by Kiri grabbing his hand and dragging him down to eat.
“Hurry up, skxawng. We’ve been waiting for you.” She rolled her eyes impatiently.
“Kiri, don’t call your brother names.” Jake sighed wearily, sitting down with the rest of the family. Kiri ignored him.
“I’m starving,” Tuk whined causing Kiri to gesture at her younger sister.
“See! She’s starving. Can we eat now?”
Neytiri chuckled lightly. “Yes. Eat.”
Lo’ak ate slowly, glancing every now and then at the empty spot next to his mother, opposite him, a constant reminder of the boy he would be mourning for the rest of his life. Since his death, the family had always left an empty spot where Neteyam once sat. It didn’t feel right to fill a space he once occupied. One he should have occupied for years to come.
He wondered if they would ever stop leaving space for him everywhere they went. If they would ever have the courage to close the gaping hole his older brothers presence left behind. If they would decide that the reminders were too painful. But to pretend that he had never existed would hurt even worse than acknowledging that he lived well. Lo’ak glanced at the empty space again, and it still filled him with dread like had every other time. But now he could almost see his brother there, smiling quietly as he always did. Listening to Tuk talk endlessly about the sea creatures she’d seen that day, helping whenever anybody asked.
The realisation washed over him slowly, that no matter how badly it hurt, he hoped his family never stopped leaving space for him.
eywa hold all her children in her heart
nothing is ever lost.