Chapter Text
Lo’ak had been hurt. It wasn’t life-threatening, but it was bad. Shortly after Pril’s first connection with Ewya, Lo’ak had been swimming with Payakan out by the reefs. A strong current violently swept him up, and by the time Payakan rescued him, he was bleeding and barely conscious. Payakan swam him back to the village as swiftly as he could, keeping his soul-brother secured against his back. Tsireya and Aonoung were the first Na’vi Payakan spotted, the siblings quickly took hold of Lo’ak and rushed him to the Tsahìk. Tsireya had to hold back her emotions as they both brought Lo’ak to shore. As the Tsakarem, she was able to tell that he was stable, that his injuries shouldn’t be life threatening, but it hurt her heart to see Lo’ak like this. Once they arrived at the Tsahìk’s marui, Ronal and Tsireya made quick work of assessing and beginning to heal Lo’ak while Aonoung was sent to gather Jake and Neytiri.
The couple were in their own marui, Neytiri leaning against her husband’s chest as they both spoke to each other. Lo’ak had gone out into the ocean by himself, he spent the bulk of his time alone these days, it was where he could better process his emotions. The rest of the kids were out in the village; Kiri and Tuk were gathering materials for dinner, Spider and Neteyam were fishing. After he was shot, Neteyam had a lengthy healing process that required him to get much rest. It was only recently that he had been given the clearance to leave their marui, but he couldn’t go alone. As much as he disliked it and as stubborn as he could be, he knew he had to go along with it. The last thing he needed was for his lung to re-collapse without anyone around to help him. His injuries hit the family hard when they happened. Neteyam had almost died, but he managed to survive by his own strength and the will of Ewya. Even after time had passed, the dynamic of the family had shifted, mainly between Jake and Lo’ak.
Jake had said some things, some terrible, horrible things that he regretted the moment they left his mouth. He knew he needed to apologize, to work things out with his son, and he became determined to do so ever since the war died down. He and Neytiri had long, hushed conversations about how to approach it and about why Jake had been being a harsh father. She called him foolish, a complete skxawang for even thinking these things about their boy. She was right, of course, Neytiri was always right. He hadn’t been a good father to Lo’ak, but he was set on changing that.
When Aonoung rushed into their marui with a panicked expression, the two parents were on their feet without a second thought. And when Aonoung told them Lo’ak had been hurt, they both felt their hearts stop. Jake and Neytiri hurried towards the Tsahìk’s marui instantly, their eyes immediately landing on Lo’ak’s frame. While Ronal and Tsireya continued to help the boy, Neytiri let out a cry and rushed to his side. Before Jake could even process what was happening, she had clasped Lo'ak's hand in her own, murmuring soft prayers.
“Is he okay?,” Jake asked as he stepped closer, not bothering to hide the crack in his voice, “What happened?”
Tsireya explained how Payakan had brought Lo’ak back to shore, but Jake could barely hear anything aside from the blood rushing behind his ears. He snapped back to attention when Ronal spoke.
“The boy will be fine. His right leg is broken, and he will require further healing and rest, but he will be fine.” She was gently placing leaves atop the scrapes scattered across Lo’ak’s body as she spoke.
“Oh, thank Eywa,” Neytiri said, gently rubbing her thumb over her son’s cheek. “Thank you, Tsahìk.” Ronal just simply nodded in response.
“When will he wake up?,” Jake asked, standing beside his wife. Even though Ronal said Lo’ak would be fine, it was painful to see their son unconscious against the mat on the floor of the marui.
“When he is ready,” Ronal replied, taking some herbs that Tsireya handed her, “He is no danger like this. His body and his soul are taking in the rest he needs.” Neytiri wiped away a stray tear and began singing, trying to soothe both herself and her little boy. “He cannot leave here,” Ronal continued, “We must set the break, and he must remain here during his recovery.” Tsireya and she both began binding Lo’ak’s bruised leg, setting it in place so it would heal properly. Jake and Neytiri understood and sent for the rest of their children once Lo’ak’s leg was set.
That night, Jake stayed in the marui with Lo’ak. Everyone had wanted to stay, too, especially Neteyam, but the Tsahìk’s marui just wasn’t meant for that many people overnight. Lo’ak had to stay, and Jake would rather die than leave him alone. Neytiri agreed to return to their family marui with the rest of the children, mainly because Tuk, full of worries about her big brother, was clinging to her. Jake kissed his wife and children goodnight, promising them they could all come visit Lo’ak in the morning. Then, it was just the two of them. The only sounds Jake could hear were the movements of the water and the constant, steady breathing of Lo’ak. He had always found comfort in that sound, not just with Lo’ak. It was a sound that brought him peace, a sound that made him calm. When his children were babies, he’d sit and listen to their breathing, his eyes fixed upon their small chests as they rose and fell. When Neteyam got shot, he found himself doing the same thing, focusing on the shallow, uneven breaths of his firstborn. Breathing means they’re alive, that was the most important thing in Jake’s life. He sat beside Lo’ak, gently placing his hand on the other’s chest so he could feel the rhythm. For just a second, he could picture Lo’ak as an infant, when Jake had done the same action. He was so small back then, Jake’s hand had covered his whole chest and then some. His little ears had flicked, showing that even in his sleep, he appreciated the closeness. Lo’ak’s ears didn’t flick this time, if anything, Jake had felt him tense up for a moment. That broke something in Jake, and even as he tried to compose himself, he felt his eyes filling with tears. This was his son, his little boy, the same little boy he had rocked to sleep, singing off-key lullabies to. He pictured the day Lo’ak was born, the first time he held him, the first time Lo’ak’s little hand had clamped against Jake’s finger. Lo’ak’s tiny, blue hand with his five fingers. Jake saw so much of himself in his boy, even back then. With his ears pinned back against the sides of his head, Jake Sully started quietly crying, his golden eyes focused entirely on his son’s face.
He cried for himself, the version he is today and the man he was back on Earth. He cried for his twin brother, whom he still mourns every day. He cried for Neytiri, his incredible wife and the reason he is who he is now. He cried for his—their—beautiful family. And he cried for his son, his little Lo’ak. He didn’t dare look away from his face, he was terrified he’d just… disappear.