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“Keep close son.” Jake calls, head tilted and his ears pointed towards him. Neteyam looks up from the illuminated moss on the trunk. His hand’s pressed up against it, leaving trails of light in the darkness.
“Yes Dad.” He calls back, taking a step towards the older man. His steps speed up as Jake carries on, until he’s in a sprint. Neteyam falls in line behind his father, chest heaving ever so slightly.
“You can’t get distracted out here, Neteyam.” Jake says, slowing to a stop. His eyes glance down at his youngest, clearly out of breath but refusing to say so.
“I’m sorry.” Neteyam replies, looking up. The forest was home, safe, but it was also dangerous. As much as Neteyam wants to believe it’ll love and hold him, he knows that it could also crush him. Just like how the Na’vi hunt for their food, the animals here hunt them back. Neither blaming the other, only understanding the danger they both cause to one another.
“Don’t make it a habit.” Jake says, patting Neteyam on the head. Looking around, he spots a stream. Big enough to hold fish, enclosed enough for practice. “Come.” He orders, gesturing to the stream with a bow and arrow. It’s small, too small for an adult to use. Perfect for Neteyam, however. The young boy’s second bow, carved for long use.
Neteyam hurries after his father, stopping at the stream's edge. Looking into the water both are met with small fish. “You’ve outgrown your first bow.” Jake states as he hands over the one in his hands.
Neteyam is quick to take it, fingers grasping at the carved wood with eagerness. “Mom says I’m getting better.” He says, holding it to his chest. He still remembers the first time he killed something. The proud look on Jake’s face. He wants to see it again, that look in his fathers eyes. He wants to see it and know he put it there.
“You are.” Jake agrees, turning to face the preteen. “But you’ll stall your progress if you only practice while standing still. So we’re going to do drills.”
“Drills?” Neteyam questions, looking from the stream then back up to Jake.
“You're going to start at that stump,” Jake starts, pointing to a small stump a few feet away. It’d be hard to see with human eyes, but here in the dark with the natural luminescence it’s clear as day. “You’ll run towards me and jump over to the other side of this stream. Once on the other side you shoot an arrow at a fish and jump back to this side. You’ll keep doing this until you hit something.” He instructs.
Neteyam’s smile fades slightly, wavering for a split second before he forces it off his face. “How?” He asks, eyes wide. It’s impossible, he wants to say. He can hardly keep track of the moving fish while staying still as it is.
“You have to shoot quicker, and account for your movements accordingly. You have to know where you are, as well as your target at all times.” Jake says, gesturing to the stump. “Now get into position.”
“Yes sir.” Neteyam nods, hands gripping the bow tighter as he turns. Running over to the stump, his heart starts to pound faster. Nerves have his hands sweating, body turning flush. His stomach turns with anxiety.
He needs to make his father proud.
Starting at the stumps, Neteyam waits for his fathers cue. Jake gives it and he’s off, bow held at his side as he runs along the stream's edge. He does as he’s told, jumping it and landing on the other side. His foot hits a loose patch of wet dirt and he slides, landing on his back with a hard thud.
Jake’s at his side in an instant. But instead of soothing tones and a hug, Jake’s pulling him back up onto his feet. “You weren’t watching where you were landing.” He states, picking up his bow. He must have dropped it while he fell.
“I…” Neteyam’s words are lost in his throat. Jake pats the dirt off his backside and hands the bow back over.
“Try again. Watch your footing, pay attention to your surroundings.” Jake orders.
Sucking up his failure, he nods again. “Yes sir.” The second time Neteyam ran into a tree because he was watching his feet too much. The third time he forgot to shoot his bow. The fourth time he finally shot his bow, missed the fish and fell into the stream.
The fifteenth time he jumped, shot and jumped again. The fish went untouched, the arrow embedding itself into the ground. But he did the moves, he’s still standing. “You're getting better.” Jake says, drawing the boy's attention.
Neteyam looks up, ready to see that proud look on his fathers face. Only Jake wasn’t wearing it. He watches as his father plucks the arrow out from the streak, eyes pointed at the untouched fish.
“I didn’t fall in.” Neteyam pipes up, hoping to nudge his father in the right direction.
“No, you didn’t.” Jake agrees. He has to, Neteyam almost did everything perfectly. He looks over at the boy, eye searching him out. He isn’t stupid, he knows what his boy wants. A ‘good job’ speech. But he didn’t do the task. Yet, he didn’t outright fail either. “You’ll get it eventually.” He says instead.
Neteyam practically wilts in front of him, eyes turning themselves to the ground. “Son.” Jake calls, the boy looking right back up. “I know you’ll do it.” He says, smiling. “You just need more practice.”
“I’ll go again.” Neteyam says, reaching for the arrow. “I’ll get it this time—“
“We’re done for today.” Jake cuts his son off, keeping the arrow to himself. “You're exhausted.”
Neteyam frowns, shaking his head. “I can keep going! I’m fine!” He reaches for the arrow once more.
“Neteyam.” Jake states, the boy stilling. “You're done. You’ll get it next time.” He reiterates. Nobody can perfect something while exhausted. Neteyam however doesn’t see it that way, tail thrashing to the side. Still he follows his father as they head back to the clan. Eyes on his bow as he goes over every miss step, ever fall.
His mind's so caught up with his own failures he doesn’t realize when he stops walking. Or when the flush in his face from running drills travels into his lower abdomen. He doesn’t notice his knees weaken, only when they hit the ground underneath him. Catching himself on his hands, Neteyam’s whole body shudders.
“I said to keep close…” Jake’s voice pitters off as he turns, reprimand lost to the winds as his eyes land on his son. Neteyam’s on the ground, hands holding him up as she shakes from head to toe. “Neteyam!” He shouts, dripping the arrow in his hand as he runs back to his boy.
“What’s wrong?” He asks, arms scooping the boy up. The second his hands touch his son's skin, his heart plummets. His skin was fire, sweat sticking to him like nectar. Grabbing Neteyam’s face, he forces his son to look up at him. “Neteyam what’s wrong?” He demands.
If Neteyam knew, he’d say. But he doesn’t know. “I feel weird.” He mumbles, reaching up. Neither Sully expects what happens next.
Hands wrap around Jake’s neck as Neteyam pushes his nose into his fathers collarbone. It’s a childish action, one that he’s outgrown years prior. But right now Neteyam feels hot and his limbs ache with pain. He’s gross, sweaty and covered in dirt. He hardly cares if the action is childish. All he cares about is getting these yucky feelings to go away.
It isn’t brain science to realize what’s happening, though it takes Jake a few anxiety ridden seconds to fully understand. “You're okay.” He says once it dawns on him. Wrapping his arms around Neteyam, Jake hoists the boy up. He’s getting too big to hold like this but the past soldier doesn’t care.
“What’s happening to me?” Neteyam mumbles into his fathers neck, eyes beginning to water. The flush in his lower abdomen turns to an ache, an ache that has the boy squirming in his fathers arms.
“You're presenting, Neteyam.” Jake answers softly. Too soft for this to be any normal situation. Mostly because it wasn’t. Jake’s seen plenty of adolescent Na’vi present over the years before Neytiri ever gave birth to their first child.
Along with learning how to live as a Na’vi forever, Jake was taught about their biology. Norm made sure to explain every detail of Na’vi presentation. Avatars were genetically modified to always be betas, so before Jake turned on the Sky People, he didn’t know much about this part. He needed to know how to move, shoot and kill. He didn’t need to know about omegas, betas and alphas. Only when it was important to a mission.
But after, when he was one with the people here, he learned. Norm used medical terminology and made things way too scientific. It was Neytiri who taught Jake the spiritual side. She was also the one to teach him how it affected them and how it will affect their children. Because even if he was spared the Na'vi presentation, his children wouldn’t be.
“Presenting?” Neteyam questions, clutching onto his father harder. “No—No you said it comes later. When I’m older.” He rushes out, breaths heavier now.
“You're an early bloomer.” Jake replies easily. He runs the numbers in his head, that anxiety returning. His son was right. Presentation happens between the ages of fifteen and seventeen. Not at twelve. He’s four years too early.
He quickens his steps through the forest, ground lighting up beneath his feet. He’s running now, one hand underneath his son's thigh and the other pressing against his back. Norm warned him that being half human might affect the kids, he just never thought it would show up like this.
The second the clan borders come into view, his feet are moving faster. Na’vi are roaming around, getting the children to eat their dinner or clean up for bed. Some spot him fishing past, but he doesn’t care to stare at their expressions as he looks around wildly for Neytiri.
“Neytiri!” He calls, slowing down just enough to properly look around.
“My Jake?” Neytiri’s voice carries over the others and he zeros in on it. Turning to the right, he sees as she peels away from her friends. One of which was holding a restless Tuk. “What is it?” She says, eyes locking in on Neteyam.
“I think he’s presenting.” Jake answers.
Neytiri pauses in her steps, eyes growing wider. “He’s too young.” She says after a minute.
“He’s clammy and burning up. He won’t stop nuzzling me and he’s hunching, like his stomach's aching.” Jake lists off the symptoms. Neytiri holds out her arms and he passes their son off to his wife. Who takes him in her arms not so easily. He’s heavy, like every twelve year old should be. Doesn’t mean she’ll hold him any less.
“Neteyam?” She whispers, jostling him. “Is it true?”
Neteyam mumbles underneath his breath, body shuddering. It serves as enough as an answer for her as she straightens up. “Get my mother, some water and clothes. Now!” She orders, nose scrunching up. Jake nods, taking the orders in stride. This isn’t something he can be in charge of. He runs off in search of Mo’at.
“My sweet boy.” Neytiri soothes, hands clutching onto Neteyam tightly. “Move!” He orders as some people get into her way. They make room as she quickly enters a medicine hut. No one's occupying it at the moment, which is good. She sets Neteyam down on a cot before pressing her hand to his lower stomach.
He can’t help but groan in pain at the pressure. The heat in his skin’s grown hotter over the time it took for them to get back home. Once a warm sensation is now a blaze. Most of it centered at his neck or abdomen. “Mom!” Neteyam hisses, trying to shove her hands away.
Neytiri hisses back, smacking his hands. “Be still.” She huffs, hands roaming up to his neck. She presses down on the sent glands at the sides of his neck, close to his collarbone. Neteyam whines, trying to move away. The same scent she’s always known fills the air. Of water dew and moss. The scent of children.
The door to the medicine hut flies open as Mo'at walks in. “How is he?” She asks in lieu of a greeting.
“Not bad.” Neytiri replies, looking up. Jake’s at the door, half in half out. “Mind the rest of the children, they are with Seasi.” She says. Without saying a word Jake ducks out of the hut, leaving to collect the rest of the Sully family.
.
“Is Neteyam okay?” Kiri asks, looking up at Jake. The man had rounded up his children a while ago. Seasi was a big help in keeping them distracted, but had to leave an hour ago for bed. Leaving him to try and get three over energetic children in bed long enough to fall asleep. Tuk passed out pretty quickly, the other two…
“He’s fine.” Jake replies. At least he hopes. He hasn’t been able to talk to Neytiri since handing their son over hours ago. He refuses to think the worst, because it really shouldn’t be an idea in his head at all. Neteyam is going through something normal, at least to the Na’vi.
Who cares that he’s way out of his depth here? That his son seems to be an early bloomer. That he’s worried out of his mind? Because this is normal. “You say that, but he’s not here.” Lo’ak huffs. He glares at him as if Jake was lying. Maybe he is…
“Your mother and grandmother are with him. He’s presenting, that’s all.” Jake explains for the hundredth time.
Kiri nods, sitting back. “Mom said the presentation happens when we’re fifteen!” She points out.
“Your brother is an early bloomer.” He replies, picking her up. She squeals as he places her next to Lo’ak. Who’s still glaring at him.
“Mom said we have to be with family when we present. He’s not here.” His frown deepens. Kiri looks at him, then up at Jake.
He can feel his daughter turning on him. “Why isn’t Neteyam with us?” She asks, voice going higher. She’s getting scared.
Jake kneels in front of the two, reaching out. Placing his hands on the twos shoulder, he tries his best to not let his own worry show through. “He worked really hard with me today with his bow. He’s tired and sore from practice. Mo’at and Neytiri are just making sure he’s all cleaned up and understands what’s happening to him. You're right, your brother is a little young for this. He may not fully understand what’s happening to him. So we need to be brave for him, so he feels safe and cared for.”
Lo’ak for the first time in hours doesn’t look like he wants to tackle him. “I’m brave!” He says, standing up. “Neteyam doesn’t need to be afraid, I’m here to help him!”
“Yeah!” Kiri yells, standing up with Lo’ak. “I’ll hug him until he feels better!”
“Hug Neteyam?” A small, sleep muffled voice speaks up. Looking to the right of the tree canopy, Tuk looks up groggily from her cot.
Jake sighs, smiling. “Yes Tuk, you can hug Neteyam too.” He says.
.
Everything hurts. His sides, stomach, neck and head. Everything. “Mom?” Neteyam calls, whining.
“I’m here baby.” Neytiri says, crouching down beside him. “What is it?” She reaches up, moving his braids out of his eyes.
“I’m scared.” He breathes, frowning. “It hurts.”
Neytiri looks over at Mo’at, her eyes conveying the things she could not say. This shouldn’t be hurting, not like this anyways. “You’ll be okay. Eywa has decided that it’s your time to present.”
“Present?” He voices, looking over at Mo’at.
She’s mixing herbs in a bowl, though the older woman stops for a second. “You're getting your second gender, child.” She says, continuing in her mixing. “This is good.” She adds. Neither woman in the hut knows if this is the truth, or the hopes they share. Either way Neteyam doesn’t need to know. He just needs to believe in the former.
Mo’at grabs a leaf and picks up the grinded herbs, walking over to her grandson's side. Kneeling down, she offers it up. “Chew and swallow, Neteyam. This’ll help.” Neteyam does as he’s told, chewing on the herbs, even though they are bitter.
It doesn’t help much as a few minutes later, he’s crying out in pain. Everything was too much and too hot. His nose stings with the unrelenting scents of his mother and grandmother. Clutching his stomach he rolls onto his side, pushing his face into the ground. “It hurts!” He cries out, ears pinned. He kicks at the ground, but it does nothing to relieve the issues.
Neytiri growls underneath her breath, looking up at her own mother in desperation. “He should not be in this much pain.” Mo’at states, hands hovering over the boy. “Something is wrong.”
“How do we fix it!?” Neytiri asks, hands pressed to her son's body. There’s a war inside of him and she cannot fight it. No matter how many herbs they give him, or reassurance.
“I do not know.” Mo’at confesses, dropping her hands. “This may be a Sky People issue, Neytiri.”
At the sound of them, Neytiri scrunches up her nose. “They did this to him?” She growls, hate lacing her tongue. “He is a boy, a young boy. And they are ruining this?”
“I’m not sure, but I can’t help him here.” Mo’at frowns. “Have Jake call his people.” She says, standing up. “I’ll go get him some more water.”
As Mo’at leaves, Neytiri is left with a quivering son. She reaches up for her comms around her neck. “My Jake.” She starts, watching as another tear leaves her son’s eyes. “Call Norm.”
~~~
Watching his son being hooked up to a breathing mask hurt more than he thought it would. It meant this was going to be a long visit. It meant something was actually wrong. “What’s happening to him?” Jake asks as he watches one of the scientists insert a needle into Neteyam’s vein.
Norm glances up from his medical pad, grimacing. “His genetic code is built upon three digestive strains.” He starts, waving him to follow. Jake spares one last look at his son, then at his mate and her mother. Who sits beside him in an inclosed room, eyes tearing holes into the humans around them. He can only wonder the pain going through their minds that they couldn’t help.
Jake follows Norm over to a different part of the room. Scans lit up a screen in front of them. “These are some Internal scans we took of Neteyam a few months ago. When they were here for their check ups.” He points out. It looks like a bunch of science things he doesn’t quite understand. But he can easily identify Neteyam’s body on the screen. Lines he guessed were his nervous system all throughout him.
Thankfully Norm didn’t go much into that one, as he switches the screen. The nerves light up like a bomb fire, red spreading out through his son's body. “That can’t be good.” He hisses.
“Actually it isn’t terrible. When Na’vi present, their genetic code gets rewritten. It’s actually really facilitating. Normally it’s a gradual thing, over the course of a few days. However with Neteyam being part Na’vi, avatar and human it’s…his immune system is trying to attack itself. Attack the presentation. His human half thinks he’s sick, that’s why he’s in so much pain. It’s like his body is at war and neither side wants to give up.” Norm explains, sighing.
“So what can you do?” Looking at the scans, it’s now more than ever Jake hated his own DNA. He knew his kids would have it too, and it’ll affect them in ways it would never affect himself. While avatars were made, his children were born. Neteyam had four fingers but inside of him he also had a human heart. A human brain and apparently a human enough immune system hell bent on killing itself.
“Sedate him, keep him comfortable. We can’t try and suppress the immune response without disrupting the presentation. Not when we’ve had no notice to look into it. To figure out a safe cure.” Norm says, looking up at him.
Jake lifts up his oxygen mask, taking a deep breath in. “So he’s fucked.” He growls underneath his breath. “He just has to bear it? Deal with it?”
“I’m sorry Jake, but if we intervene too much he would be better off if he dealt with this on his own. Presentation is also a vital part of a Na’vi being able to fully function, it’s a needed step in development. If he doesn’t go through this, it’s as if he was a human on Pandora.” His friend states, setting his device down.
Relaying all of this to Neytiri felt like breaking his mate's heart. She screamed, blamed the sky people for poisoning their son, but in the end she cried. Because as parents the only thing they wanted their children to avoid is pain.
Mo’at for the most part kept Neytiri from tearing apart the lab, the two praying over Neteyam’s sleeping body. After a few hours, Jake had to leave to put the other children to bed.
It became a routine of sorts. Wake up, pass Lo’ak, Kiri and Tuk off to Seasi and her husband. Fly to Neytiri and Mo’at and spend a few hours with Norm, brainstorming, and preparing. Because he had three other kids who might go through what Neteyam’s going through soon. Then he’d go back to the clan, do his duties.
Sometimes Spider rode back with him. “Is Neteyam going to be okay?” Spider asks, jumping over a log. Only to miss and fall on his ass on the other side. The kid gets up easily enough, looking away, probably out of embarrassment.
“Norm says he will.” He replies. What Jake thinks and what Norm thinks are two completely different things. He just has to hope Norm’s right and he’s wrong.
“He’s starting to smell, you know. Neteyam.” Spider voices, running over to Jake’s side. The thirteen year old was no different than a Na’vi child in Jake’s opinion. On the inside at least. But he was still a child and so he saw the fear in Spider’s eyes. The anxiety. He’s seen it in Kiri’s and Lo’ak’s eyes. Tuk was too young to really know what was happening but she felt the void of her brother. He knows it.
“Smell?” Jake questions, looking down. “How so?”
“Like fruit. I asked Neytiri about it but she told me to play with Norm.” The young boy replies, scrambling over another tree root. Fruit huh…
“It’s his scent glands." Jake states. He hadn’t noticed it, but then again he was mostly with Norm or with the clan these days. He guesses Spider’s been hanging around Neteyam, even if Neytiri’s been chasing him off.
“Spider!” Two shrill voices call out. The boy snaps his head in the direction and Jake follows suit. Lo’ak and Kiri were jumping, waving their hands. Five fingers, not four. Would presentation be worse for them, or better? What other human things would affect them. Hurt his children? Spider takes off, Lo’ak tackling the incoming boy as Kiri jumps on the two of them. Jack smiles, pinches the bridge of his nose and keeps moving.
.
Waking up felt like he fell out of the home tree. His whole body aches, exhaustion taking root into every part of him. His breath hitches. There was something on his face. Neteyam reaches up, feeling a rebreather.
“Neteyam!” Mom’s voice fills his ears like thunder. He isn’t in the hut, this doesn’t look like grandma's place.
“Mom?” Neteyam says, looking over. Neytiri’s in his field of view in a second, smiling down at him.
“My son.” She breaths. Then she’s grabbing him, hugging him. There’s something painful in his arm but he doesn’t care. Raising his arms he grabs onto her, putting his nose to his mothers neck. Only there’s no wood scent. He can’t help the whine that leaves him at this. Within a second Neytiri’s pulling the rebreather off of his face.
“Neytiri you shouldn’t do that—“ His father’s voice is cut off but a loud hiss. Neteyam sets his nose in the crook of his mothers neck, inhaling her scent. Dad didn’t have a scent. He just smelt like mom. Dad smelt like the world around him, like everyone else. Like water dew, grass, wood, flowers and dirt.
“Am I okay?” Neteyam questions quietly.
“I believe so.” Norm’s voice chimes in. There’s no hope in pulling away from Neytiri, so he just tries to peek over her shoulder to catch sight of him. It hardly works. He does spot Spider looking through the glass, fogging it up with his breath.
“Do you know what I am?” He can’t help but ask. Now that the anxiety and pain of presentation are no longer there, excitement starts to bloom. He presented! That means he’s mature now, right? Mom said older Na’vi present, so he must be on their level now.
Neytiri pulls him away slightly, peppering a kiss to his forehead. “You're an alpha.” She replies, smiling. “Like me.” An alpha? Neteyam whips his head over to his father, eyes wide. Alpha’s are leaders, or help leaders. Warriors. Eywa makes them strong, unmovable.
Would Jake be proud?
“Don’t get any funny ideas, young man.” Jake laughs, walking over. He rustles his hair. “I’m still the man of the house.”
He laughed, he’s happy. It wasn’t the pride Neteyam sought for, but this was okay too. He thinks he likes it better. He doesn’t know why, but as the excitement and happiness of having both his parents' attention get too much for him his chest tightens. He squirms underneath Jake’s relentless teasing touches.
Then his chest untightens and a rumbling sound comes out of his throat. Jake pauses his hands and the rumbling stops. Neteyam blinks, frowning. Slowly Jake places his hand back on his head, and the rumbling continues.
“You're too sweet, Neteyam.” Jake sighs, grabbing hold of him and hoisting him up in a hug. “Don’t ever scare me like that again.” He hears his father whisper.
.
“Neteyam stay with me!” Jake yells, hands pressed against the bullet wound. Everything’s too loud, too noisy. Just his father’s here. His brothers are here. They’re crying too. Waves lap against the stone as gun fire continues.
Neteyam rumbles, looking up at Jake. He searches for something, he doesn’t know what. Jake presses harder on the wound. “Neteyam don’t you leave me!” Jake screams. He rumbles louder, harder. He tries to calm his father down, to remind him that he’s here.
He gets a tear falling from his fathers face and landing on his own.