Archive of Our Own ^beta

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.

Chapter Text

Jake squinted as the lights flickered on to illuminate the cryo vault. Medical technicians floated weightlessly, pulling themselves around as they tended to the hundreds of people awakening in their cryo capsules.

“Are we there?” Jake whispered hoarsely.

“We’re there, Sunshine,” the technician answered him.

“How is everybody flying, Daddy?” Tuk asked Jake.

“There is no gravity—the thing that keeps your feet down on the ground—while up in space. So, you float.”

“It looks fun,” Ao’nung commented, watching as the medical technician drifted around the large vault.

“People, you have been in cryo for five years, nine months, and twenty-two days,” the technician announced. “You will be hungry, you will be weak. If you feel nausea, please use the sacks provided for your convenience. The staff thanks you in advance.”

“You were on the ship for almost six years?” Lo’ak asked, his eyebrows shooting up towards his hairline. “That is almost as old as Tuk!”

“Yeah, but it felt like a nap.” Jake shrugged. “You do not age in cryo—you cannot feel the time pass. I was still twenty-two in my mind and body.”

Ao’nung couldn’t imagine being able to just pause life. How could the body survive without food or water? Did it? Or were they technically dead while in this long sleep? Why would sky people even want to do this?

“Wow,” Tsireya breathed as a massive planet filled the screen, surrounded by dozens of moons. The largest of these moons, covered in gorgeous blues and greens, came into focus. “Is that Eywa’eveng?”

“That is us,” Jake confirmed, a small grin on his face. “Pandora.”

The sound of drums returned, bringing with it the vivid green of the forest—which covered massive areas of undisturbed land—and wispy clouds swirled around the tops of towering cliffs. Ao’nung marveled at the sight for a moment, only briefly, because he’d never seen so many trees. The islands he’d grown up with were small compared to this vast landscape. He stood by the notion that Awa’atlu and the reefs were far more beautiful, but as he watched great winged creatures soar past rushing waterfalls and rivers, a small part of him thought it would be neat to explore the forest.

Suddenly, the lushious rainforest gave way to an open-pit mine—a lifeless crater of destruction and large machinery. 

Neytiri growled, and Jake pulled her against his side to comfort her. Ao’nung had never even been to the forest, and even he felt anger stirring in his stomach at the devastation to the land. The sky people brought nothing except ugliness and death to their beloved moon.

A human colony, Hell’s Gate, sat behind the mining field. A chain-link fence topped with razor wire surrounded the borders, blocking out any unwanted company—and was backed up by large gun towers at the corners.

“Exopacks on!” a man shouted as the scene changed to the inside of an aircraft, where a row of people in camouflage uniforms were seated along the wall. The passengers quickly donned their masks—except Jake, who began fidgeting with the straps in confusion. “Remember, people: you lose your mask, you’re unconscious in twenty seconds and you’re dead in four minutes. Let nobody be dead today—it looks bad on my report.” The man stopped beside Jake and said, “Exopack on, let’s go!”

“Come on, Dad, they are not even difficult to use!” Kiri teased. “Spider knew how to put his mask on when he was a toddler.”

Spider, the weird sky boy who was now staying with the Metkayina clan after the battle at Three Brothers. Ao’nung was still uncertain about how he fit into the Suli family, since he was most definitely not Na’vi— or one of the demon-blooded ones, like Lo’ak or Kiri. He was a sky person, that much was clear, but he was an odd one. He stained blue stripes into his skin, wore an Omatikaya hairstyle and the clothing of the clan, and spoke Na’vi as fluently as Ao’nung himself did. Though if he wasn’t mistaken, he’d heard his mother speaking about how his father was the crazy uniltìrantokx who the recent battle was against—which really called into question why he was with the Suli family at all. 

But then again, Ao’nung didn’t find Spider all that much weirder than he found the Suli kids who had four fingers and hair above their eyes. The whole family were freaks—even if he was growing to tolerate them.

“We all learned how to work the exopacks when we were toddlers,” Lo’ak said.

“Why did you have to learn?” Ao’nung wondered. “You did not need it to breathe.”

“There were humans in our clan,” Neteyam explained. “Well, on the outskirts of it, anyway. Like Norm and Max, the people who came when Kiri had her seizure—”

“That is not why,” Kiri interrupted. “We had to learn because we would drag Spider out into the forest all the time, and we needed to know what to do if his mask came off.”

“It was for both of those reasons,” Jake settled the dispute.

“Go directly into the base!” the man continued to yell. “Do not stop! Go straight inside! Let’s go, let’s go! Keep moving!”

The colonists jogged down the ramp of the landed aircraft and headed into a chain-link-covered walkway that led to a large complex. 

[There’s no such thing as an ex-Marine,] Jake’s voice narrated. [You may be out, but you never lose the attitude. I told myself I could pass any test a man could pass.]

Within the tunnel, two Sec-Ops watched the newcomers with laid-back, but judgemental demeanors.

“Look at all the fresh meat,” one of them said.

“Is that…” Lo’ak trailed off, his eyes darting anxiously toward Neteyam, whose jaw was clenched tightly enough for the muscle to twitch.

“Yes,” Jake said, his voice hard and dripping with a hatred that made Ao’nung shift uncomfortably in the hammock he was in. “Lyle fucking Wainfleet—the jackass who shot Neteyam.”

“Ah!” Neytiri snarled. “I will kill him as many times as I need to.”

Jake rolled down the ramp, immediately grabbing the Sec-Ops attention.

[Back on Earth, these guys were Army dogs, Marines—fighting for freedom. But here, they’re just hired guns, taking the money, working for the company]

“Check it out, man,” Not-Wainfleet snickered. Something in the back of Ao’nung mind said his name was Fike. “Meals on wheels.”

“Oh, man.” Wainfleet shook his head. “That is just wrong.”

Jake came to a stop as a huge tractor roared by on mud-covered wheels, his eyes lingering on the handful of arrows sticking out from the tires. Once it passed, he continued towards the walkway.

“What’re you two limpdicks starin’ at?” Jake sneered.

“I thought Wainfleet was ugly as an avatar —but he was even uglier as a human,” Kiri said, her mouth twisted in disgust. “That is probably why he was such a dick.”

“Language,” Jake half-heartedly reprimanded.

“Because he could not get girls?” Lo’ak laughed. “Probably.”

“It must be sad being ugly and lonely,” Neteyam agreed.

“Are any humans attractive?” Ao’nung asked—because he had not seen a single one.

“Yes,” Kiri said. “Some.”

“If she says Spider, I am going to kill myself,” Lo’ak said under his breath.

Kiri’s eyes grew wide and she looked around herself almost frantically—apparently searching for something to throw, because when she found nothing, she slipped her bracelet off and chucked it at Lo’ak’s head.

Lo’ak flinched as it made contact with his ear, but he devolved into a fit of laughter when he looked back at her scandalized face.

“Wait, you have a crush on Spider?” Tsireya asked, an incredulous smile on her face.

“No!” Kiri snapped. “Lo’ak, give me my bracelet.”

“It is mine now,” Lo’ak refused as he tauntingly dangled it in the air. “You gifted it to me.”

“I did not.”

“Just like you do not have a crush on Spider?” Neteyam asked.

“I will drown your skxawng asses in that pool over there,” Kiri threatened through gritted teeth.

“You are very touchy with him,” Lo’ak reasoned.

“The hand-holding, the painting on his body, the lingering looks,” Neteyam listed.

“And if you touched my chest the way you rest your hands on his, you know that we would both puke,” Lo’ak said as he slid the bracelet onto his wrist.

“Hold on,” Jake said, his eyebrows doing something very tense and a bit twitchy. “I thought you and Spider were like… like, siblings.”

Kiri massaged her fingers into her temples. “Can we stop talking about this?”

“Yes,” Jake tried to agree, but Neytiri apparently had other plans.

“You cannot have a crush on Spider,” Neytiri demanded. “He is… he is human, and—”

“I do not know how to explain Spider to you! He is not a brother, but he is also not… like that. It is not about attraction,” Kiri stressed. Then, before Neytiri could speak again, she rushed out, “And you cannot say he is human like it is a bad thing, when you mated with one!”

“Not while he was in his human body!”

“So you would not love him as a human?”

“Of course I would. I love his heart.”

“So then why does it matter that Spider is a human?”

“How would that even work?” Neytiri pointed out. “You cannot even mate with a human.”

“Technically—”

“Nope!” Jake intervened, his face mildly horror-stricken. “No, we are not talking about this. Absolutely not. I do not want to hear anything about any of this.”

“Kiri, you are going to kill the mighty Toruk Makto with your monkey boy crush,” Lo’ak said. “He is going to die of disgust. And so will I, by the way.”

Tsireya tried to cover her laugh with her arm, but Kiri noticed it—and Ao’nung could see the Evil Sister Energy building in her eyes.

“Well, if that does not kill him, his heart will definitely give out when he learns what you have been doing with the Olo’eyktan’s daughter.”

Ao’nung’s attention shot to his sister, who was much less amused than she was only moments before.

“Lo’ak?” Ao’nung exclaimed—almost cried, really. “Out of any boy, you picked Lo’ak?”

He had noticed the looks the two had been sharing since the Suli family came to the island, but he didn’t think they were doing anything. What had they been doing, exactly? No, actually, he didn’t want to know. He really didn’t. But ugh, did this mean his sister was going to force him to become family with the guy? Ao’nung was still working on getting used to his mere existence near him!

“Tsireya?” Tonowari said, surprise heavy in his tone.

“Olo’eyktan Tonowari, Sir, I—” Lo’ak tried to speak, but the words seemed to die in his throat.

Tsireya looked like she was about to attempt some sort of excuse, but a loud crash pulled everyone’s attention back to the screen.

A vicious winged creature had smashed into the chain-link, gnashing its fangs against the steel as its long, skinny tail darted through one of the holes—the glistening stiletto at the tip just barely missing Jake.

“Stingbat,” Neteyam said. “Some people in the Omatikaya clan tamed them. They would call them by whistling, and the stingbats would ride around on their shoulders.”

“They are so cute,” Tuk cooed—clearly not seeing the same deranged predator as Ao’nung. “They have a venomous tail, though—so you have to be careful.”

“Oh, venomous tails,” Ao’nung said flippantly. “How adorable.”

Wainfleet raised his pistol and blasted the stingbat, his face careless as if he’d simply shot a wall, rather than a living thing. The stingbat dropped onto the ground, tail still lashing about in its final moments.

“Seen a lotta guys leave this place in a wheelchair,” Wainfleet mused, eying Jake. “Never seen anybody show up in one.”

Jake ignored him, wheeling himself further down the walkway towards the main building.

The scene cut to a pair of combat boots walking along an aisle, the view slowly tracing up the uniformed man’s muscular body—lingering for a moment on the large gun strapped to his hip—before finally reaching his face. Scars littered his exposed skin, but the most prominent ones were the distinctive claw marks that were carved into his scalp on the side of his head.

“That is Quaritch,” Lo’ak recognized. “Spider’s dad. And the one who took us hostage.”

“Too many times,” Tuk complained, a disgruntled frown on her face.

“I do not think humans are very attractive, but at least Spider is better than him,” Tsireya said.

“True,” Neteyam allowed, and Ao’nung nodded in agreement.

“You are all unbelievable,” Kiri grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I am literally begging that we do not talk about Spider anymore,” Jake said. “Kiri is not allowed to have any crushes.”

“I am not saying it is a crush, but if it was, why could I not have one?” Kiri asked. “I am going to complete my Iknimaya soon, and then I will be an adult.”

“To the Na’vi,” Jake argued. “Too bad you are part human, meaning you cannot have crushes until you are eighteen.”

Ao’nung raised his eyebrows. Humans were not adults until they were eighteen? Did that mean their duties in their village were child-level until then? Thinking back to how much free time he had when he was young, he didn’t think that sounded so bad.

“You are not in Kansas anymore,” Quaritch said to the room full of people. “You are on Pandora, ladies and gentlemen. Respect that fact every second of every day.” He pointed out a nearby window at the dark treeline, then continued, “Out beyond that fence, every living thing that crawls, flies, or squats in the mud wants to kill you and eat your eyes for Jujubes.”

“Then you should go back to your own planet,” Neytiri reasoned bitterly.

“We have an indigenous population of humanoids here called the Na’vi. They’re fond of arrows dipped in a neurotoxin which can stop your heart in one minute. We operate—we live—at a constant threat condition yellow.”

“Your arrows are poisoned?” Tonowari asked Jake and Neytiri.

“When we shoot our arrows, it is not for fun. It is not a warning.” Neytiri said. “What we shoot will die. The poison makes sure of it.”

“These are talking about hunters’ arrows,” Jake clarified. “After their Iknimaya and Uniltaron, when they are adults of the clan, they make a hunter’s bow and arrows. The arrows used by children for training are not dipped in poison.”

Tonowari nodded. “I understand.”

“As head of security, it’s my job to keep you alive. I will not succeed,” —Quaritch paused, eyes scanning the room— “not with all of you. If you wish to survive, you need a strong mental attitude, you need to follow procedure…”

[Nothing like an old-school safety brief to put your mind at ease,] Jake’s voice spoke over Quaritch’s fading voice.

Then, Jake was wheeling himself down a hallway as people rushed around him in both directions with their luggage. An eager young man ran to catch up with him, staggering under the weight of an overpacked duffle bag.

“Norm!” Kiri cheered, her face lighting up. “He’s so young—look at him.”

“He was so excited to be here.” Lo’ak grinned, before looking over at Tsireya. “He is our favorite avatar-driver.”

“This was the one who came for Kiri?” Tsireya asked.

“Yeah, this is how he looks as a human. He is almost like an uncle to us—he still works in the lab by the Omatikaya settlement,” Kiri elaborated.

“Hey, you’re Jake, right? Tom’s brother?” Norm asked, slowing as he reached him. “Wow, you look just like him.”

Jake eyed him uncomfortably, not offering any sort of confirmation—but not denying it, either.

“Sorry, I’m Norm Spellman. I went through avatar training with him.” Norm offered his hand to Jake, and Jake shook it unenthusiastically. “He was a great guy—funny. It was a big shock to us all.”

“Yeah,” Jake deadpanned, before pumping the wheels of his chair to push himself forward. 

Norm either didn’t understand the dismissal or didn’t care, as he immediately moved to walk beside him.

“And duh —obviously you look like him,” Norm continued. “I mean, if you weren’t genetically identical, you wouldn’t be taking over his avatar.”

Jake nodded. “That’s why I’m here.”

“So, you want to go check it out?”

“Wait,” Lo’ak said, as he stared at his father as if the man had grown an extra head. “Wait, woah.”

“What?” Jake asked, a bit defensively.

“You are our uncle!”

Neteyam’s mouth dropped open as he seemed to catch onto what Lo’ak was suggesting. “Your body was Tommy’s.”

“Mom mated and had kids with his body—so we are technically his kids, right?” Lo’ak pushed. “Your brain is not what created us—it was your body. Well, Tommy’s. Right?”

“No,” Neytiri snapped. “Mating is not about the body—it is about the heart. It is about who you are. To think it is physical is ignorant.”

“She is right—Mom mated Dad. Forming the mate connection is purely spiritual,” Kiri said. She waited for a moment, then added, “But she did still have sex with his brother.”

As the Suli boys erupted into laughter, Ao’nung couldn’t help but chuckle himself. The family was so messy, but at least they were entertaining.

“Technically, Tommy and I had the same genetic makeup. We were basically the same person, from a science perspective,” Jake explained. “Our minds were the only thing different between us. So when I took his avatar and put my own mind into it, it was the same amount mine as it would have been his.”

“So you are our dad, right?” Tuk questioned.

“Yes, baby girl.”

“If you ever took my mate, I would strangle you with your own tail,” Lo’ak loudly whispered to Neteyam.

“You only worry about that because you know I am more attractive than you and could,” Neteyam responded, earning two raised middle fingers from Lo’ak.

Jake and Norm entered a large lab complex, where large crates were in varying stages of being opened and people in white coats were scurrying about. Norm, distracted by the happenings of the lab, paused to stare—but Jake continued on.

[Me and Norm were out here to drive these remotely controlled bodies called avatars. They’re grown from human DNA mixed with the DNA from the natives here.]

Finally reaching a large amino tank, Jake rolled to a stop. The figure of a blue, naked man floated languidly in the amniotic fluid, with a synthetic umbilical cord connected to their abdomen. Their long black hair drifted like seaweed in the liquid, and Jake’s eyebrows twitched upwards as a long, skinny tail came into view.

“That is so creepy,” Ao’nung voiced, staring at the body. It looked Na’vi—as much as Lo’ak did, anyway—but it clearly wasn’t. How could they just grow these soulless creatures? 

“It should not even be possible,” Ronal said, clearly disturbed. “It is not natural. There is no life in it—just a body grown by demons.”

“Ronal,” Tonowari said sternly, his eyes very quickly darting towards Jake before returning to her. 

“That is the body of Toruk Makto,” Neytiri said. “Eywa chose him—he is not a demon.”

“Damn,” Jake said. “They got big.”

“Yeah, they mature on the trip out,” Norm told him, then looked at Max, one of the doctors for the program. “So the proprioceptive sims worked pretty well.”

“Yeah, they’ve got great muscle tone,” Max said. “Give us a few hours, and you guys can take them for a spin.”

The figure’s lax face finally turned towards Jake, and the features were—despite being relatively feline—definitely his.

“I do not like this,” Tuk mumbled. “You look dead.”

Jake reached over to take her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “My body is just sleeping in there.”

“You are not breathing.”

“I did not have to breathe like that.”

“It looks like him,” Jake noted.

“No, it looks like you,” Norm corrected him. “This is your avatar now, Jake.”

[The idea is that every driver is matched to his own avatar,] Jake’s voice said, before the scene switched to him looking directly towards the screen in the middle of filming a videolog. “So their nervous systems are in tune, or something. Which is why they offered me this gig, because I can link with Tommy’s avatar, which was insanely expensive.” Jake looked away, clearly uncomfortable with speaking to nobody. “Is this right? I just say whatever in these videologs?”

“Yeah,” Norm answered from nearby. “You just need to get in the habit of documenting everything—what you see, what you feel—it’s all part of the science. Good science starts with good observation.”

“Right,” Jake sighed. “So whatever. Here I am. Doing science. Never been in a lab before.”

Max came up behind him and said, “Log off. It’s time to meet your boss for the next five years.”