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Spider remembers the first time he left the base, when the smallest mask possible finally fit him. How could he not remember finally being able to experience Eywa’s beauty. Norm in his Avatar had gone with him to Hometree, calling out warnings, telling him to watch his step as a root almost sent him tumbling into the mossy forest floor. After an hours-long journey they had finally reached the sturdy trunk that reached into the blue sky. Spider remembers the journey walking back towards Hell’s Gate. Being carried in Norm’s arms, his own legs having grown tired hours ago from roughhousing with Neteyam and Kiri, his eyes succumbing to exhaustion. The way the dying light of the day stirred him out of his sleep as Norm stepped into the clearing that was Hell’s Gate.
The same dying light stirred him away from his sleep once more.
He awoke slowly to the warmth of a body against his side. To the feel of a chest rising and falling with life. For a moment he thought he was a kid once more. Being carried away from his home by Norm when he had exhausted himself playing. A thought quickly squashed by the quiet hizz of an Ikran, and the burn of the fresh cut along his shoulder, the memories of the past day catching up to him.
If Spider were anyone else he would've sat up, He would’ve pulled his head away from the blue shoulder it rested on, away from the mighty heartbeat that thudded in his ears softly. He should turn his head away from the earthy scent that filled his senses. A smell he had only just begun to familiarize himself with. His pink hands should be gripping onto the edge of the brown saddle he sat against, not the lock of hair his hands had found in his sleep. He should be desperate for any leverage for any tether keeping him in the lush forest away from the awaiting hands of the ancestors. But he wasn’t anyone else was he. He was the “Taw’tue”.
The “stray cat” as he had heard Jake say years ago, before Neteyam pulled away. Before he realized every word Neytiri spoke of destruction at his hands was true. Spider had to agree with Jake now, he really was a stray cat, lingering around corners picking up the scraps of affection left behind, being chased away time and time again but coming back without fail. How true did that ring now of all times. The boy’s shoulder ached and still he couldn't stop his amusement. The quiet beat of wings against wind suddenly burst with the sound of muffled laughter. Maybe the white coats really had done a number on him.
He was snapped out of his thoughts as his hair was moved away from his face, as the steady presence against his side pulled away and a hand slowly pulled curled hands away from hair. For a second Spider almost made a sound, almost tightened his grip around the hand trying to pull him away like a petulant child having their wooden toy taken away. He didn’t want to stop pretending he wasn’t 16, that Jake, his Dad, hadn’t done what he did. That the still bleeding cut at his collarbone was simply the work of his clumsiness. But the second passed. And with it, the ability to keep pretending there wasn’t something wrong.
Five digits pushed golden locks away, blue body not pulling away, simply readjusting.“Spider” came the voice of the man he had created his life around. Jake’s touch was gentle as he traced the painted stripes that covered Spider’s skin. Blue fingers brushed along the still closed eyelids of the brown eyed boy reverently, slowly. Scared to push too much, to hurt what was finally his. Spider’s body acted on its own, pressing itself harder to the hand in his hair, to the sturdy body that had not pulled away as he thought it would. His stomach churned at the fact, the warmth that encompassed him almost burning. Why? Why wasn’t Jake pulling away, why wasn’t HE pulling away?
Spider hadn’t realized how lost he had become in his own thoughts until the soft rumbling in the chest he leaned upon settled deep into his bones. With some work Spider finally opened his eyes, his ears registering whatever it was that Jake was saying.
“-ake, we’re around an hour away from High Camp”
As the older man spoke his hands tightened their hold around the Taw’Tue protectively. Almost as if in Spider’s place rested one of his other children, not the son of the demon. Bile burned at the back of the boy's throat. The arms around him felt like safety, like home, and Spider couldn’t take it any longer. He pulled himself away from Jake’s arms. Pushing against his chest to sit up on the Ikran’s back pointedly ignoring the figure in front of him.
Brown eyes averted yellow, Spider didn’t think he could handle seeing the hurt in Jake’s face as he pulled away from him without sinking back into the strong chest he rested against only moments earlier. He really couldn’t do anything right could he?
The rest of the flight was in silence, the wind and Sa’Ta's wings being the only sounds to fill the void between Spider and what was just out of reach.
He knew he could sink back into the awaiting warmth behind him. Let himself be lulled back to sleep like he had seen other kids be coaxed into sleep by loving hands. Hell, he could lean forward once more, rest his aching head against the slender back in front of him, stealing warmth from somewhere he shouldn’t. But he did not.
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The reunion between the Sully family was a tearful one.
As soon as Neytiri touched down in the opening of the cave’s mouth Spider was deafened by the sheer loudness of the war screams. The two Navi he traveled with were surrounded by the clan in second. The blonde stepped away from them as the clan's people fluttered around checking for injuries, sharing their gratitude to Eywa for their safety. Spider felt her long before he saw her. The presence was strong, mighty, carrying a wisdom that only she could wield. A presence he knew from years of sitting besides her as she worked on one thing or another.
Mo’at.
The sea of people parted quickly. Making room for the Tsahik as she walked towards her children, eyes roaming over their bodies assessing for injuries. Neytiri was the first to reach out. The smile that had grown on her face at her clan's concern crumbling under the gaze of her mother. She fell into Mo’at’s already outstretched arms, shoulders heaving as she buried her face into the crook of her mothers neck. All at once the image of the strong, intimidating, Neytiri Spider knew was replaced by that of a child. A daughter seeking comfort in her mothers arms.
Something in his chest ached at the sight but he didn’t have much time to dwell on the issue at hand as he nearly tumbled over at the sudden weight along his back. He had no time to process the sudden feeling of arms wrapped around his middle before two more pairs of hands were upon him. The lingering scent of saltwater was quick to clue him in on who surrounded him. Well, that and the fact that amongst the Omaticaya very few would ever embrace him as he was now.
His ears were filled with the watery giggle of Tuk as she hanged off his back in her impromptu piggy back ride. The top of his head slowly soaking from the tears Lo’ak and Kiri seemed to be shedding. The familiar ache in his chest returned as his smaller arms reached around to hug them back to the best of his ability.
One by one they pulled away from him as they rushed towards their father with watery grins. Spider took this as his sign to get going, his body turning to begin its familiar trek towards the metal buildings. As he turned his arm was caught, a blue hand encompassing the entirety of his forearm. The jewelry Spider could see coating the Navi's wrist was enough to clue him in on who it was.
Mo’at had begun tugging him towards her tent, her grip around him soft enough to not cause harm but tight enough to make sure he knew he had no option but to comply. Not that he would ever argue against her.
As they entered the herb scented home Mo’at finally let go of the pale arm. Spider didn’t try to help her as she pulled the curtains shut around the home's opening. Instead he sat besides the firepit bringing the slowly dying embers into a steady flame bathing the now dark tent into a warm light.
The teenagers' shoulders were tense as the Tsahik began pulling herbs out of their baskets, grinding them into a paste he knew to be meant for cuts. A paste he recognized to be altered for him specifically, omitting the Aniheyu needed to make the concoction. Pink lips opened and shut nervously, unsure if he should say anything.
Mo’at pretended not to see his nervousness allowing Spider to stew in his worries for a second before she stood carrying the now finished paste in her hands as she moved towards him. “Speak”, came her steady voice as she began applying the thick mixture onto his wound.
Spider knew better than to question her, he knew what she wanted to hear, but he simply couldn't answer. Not now. “On what?”
Mo’at sent a sharp glare his way, the same one she would use on Lo’ak when he refused to sit still while she applied bruising balm to his injuries as a kid. Her touch remained soft but became slightly heavier on his chest as she made her displeasure at his answer known. Spider knew she would not repeat herself. “It’s just a cut. It’s ok”
Her movements halted slowly. Her hand no longer worked paste into his wound and the surrounding skin. It simply rested on his chest next to the fading scar gifted to him by Neytiri.
Mo’at’s eyes held his gaze, Her stare looking through him, deeper, as if she saw his very spirit. “He was wrong”. She said it as if it was an unrebutable statement, as true as saying Eywa was in every inch of this world.
Somehow, he felt, he knew, what she was speaking about. Who she was talking about. Spider’s lungs burned as if hot coal had been shoved into his lungs. His head dropped down to his chest as his eyes stinged. He didn’t want to, he couldn’t think about it. Long fingers pulled his chin away from his chest, forcing his eyes to meet Mo’at’s eyes.
“Child” she spoke softly, quietly, as if she was whispering a prayer. “He was wrong, no matter what you think, what his reasons where, he was wrong”
Blonde locs flinged around his shoulders as he shook his head trying to not hear the words she spoke to him. “He wasn’t. He was right, I am dangerous.” His hands covered his face as he spoke, hiding himself away from the knowing gaze. “They tested on me” his voice broke as he spoke. “They know too much already.”
Her gaze and voice remained steady, a stark contrast to his current state. “And that is no fault of yours is it. You were blessed; it is their corruption that harms, not you.”
The tension that festered in pink shoulders exploded all at once. The teenager jumped to his feet “And what of everything else. What of every mistake I have made” he began to pace as he spoke, trying and failing to shove the thoughts of Quartitch into the depths of his mind. “I saved him, I'm the reason he-” a lump formed in his throat. “I'm the reason he's dead.”
His pacing stopped, his hands curling around himself “He killed him, he hurt so many and I miss him, I shouldn’t but I do”. Spider named no one and yet he knew she understood who he meant. His pink chest ached with the heaviness of his breath but the words spilled out of him like water from a broken waterskin. “He almost let me be killed as long as he completed his mission.”
Mo’at watched the boy pause his ramble, sinking onto his knees as the fight seemed to seep from his body. “The one person I never thought would hurt me almost did, and she did.” A shaking hand rose to trace the scar on his chest. Brown eyes lifted to meet soft yellow “But I can’t hate them. I can’t even be mad at any of them. Why?”
The tears that had been building up in his eyes finally began to fall. His shoulder shook, no longer with tension but with the weight of heavy sobs. Mo’at wasted no time striding towards the child she had always seen as part of her family, gathering him into her arms as she did her daughters years ago. She brushed his matted hair out of his face whispering reassurances as he cried.
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The communal fire in the heart of High Camp had always been Spider’s favorite place second only to the Ikran rook. As a child sitting amongst the sounds of singing and laughter, his body glowing with the light and heat of the fire let him pretend for at least a moment that he was one of the people. That he had his own family simply an arms reach away. It let him pretend that he belonged.
Now, sitting in front of the roaring fire he could almost believe he really belonged. His left shoulder was pressed up against Kiri. His head heavy with the weight of Lo’aks cheek resting against his hair. The laughter and chatter he so often tried to listen to was now nearly deafening as Tuk chattered away. The younger girl sat in front of Spider, her meal left forgotten as she recounted how she helped prepare the Teylu for tonight and how much time it took.
His own plate sat on his knees empty as he complimented Tuk’s cooking, thanking her for making sure they didn’t include Yanba leaves for the seasoning because he didn’t like it. (In reality a single leaf could stop his heart but she didn’t need to know that).
His plate was not empty for long. A slender arm placing a handful of Teylu and melon fruit onto it. Spider's gaze followed the arm to find it was Neytiri who had refilled his plate. Their eyes met, something that often led to Neytiris teeth baring. Instead he met soft eyes, eyes he had seen directed towards Neteyam everyday, never directed towards him. Her lips were pulled back in a gentle smile, a smile that widened minutely before she went back to her conversation with Mo'at.
The surprise he felt must have shown on his face as Tuk’s recounting of her day was interrupted by giggles she could not hold. Jake who had been observing him the whole night making sure he ate and rested ruffled blond locs his eyes shining with the closest thing Spider had seen to Joy since Neteyam’s death. Spider did not say anything, turning to stuff his mouth with the given Teylu to hide his shy grin and stinging eyes. Maybe everything would be ok.