Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Spider's whole body aches by the time he catches up to the Sullys floating with Payakan. As he pulls himself onto Payakan's back, he hears the Sullys cry together for Neteyam and Spider, exhausted enough to feel sick with it, cries too. Quietly, quietly, Spider bites his cheek to keep from making any noise as his chest hitches painfully, one hot tear after another slipping down his face as his vision wobbles. The sun is relentless above him and burns at his back and arms, the sea water making the wounds on his body sting horribly. The reflection of the light on the water is blinding, and Spider buries his head in his arms to block it out. It doesn't help.

His chest hurts, and he raises his fingers to the cut Neytiri gave him where his blood still oozes and it, too, burns in the salt water still dripping from his hair. He risks a glance at the water below where the Sullys float on Payakan's fin. The sound of Neytiri's hisses in his ear and the feeling of her knife to his throat rise like ugly waves when he looks at her, his heart starting to beat hard enough against his ribs it could bruise, and he succumbs to pathetic fear. He hopes that if he just keeps small and quiet enough the Sullys wouldn’t notice him there, and he could just stay near them. Not quite hiding from them but not brave enough to go to them, either. Spider doesn't know where else to go because everything hurts so much, and Neteyam is dead.

And Quaritch is alive. Spider has fucked up so monumentally he wishes the eclipse would come and blanket him where brightness can't find him, where he doesn't feel so sharply exposed out here on the open ocean and he could disappear until something, anything, makes any sense.

Instead Spider falls into stillness, hoping that, like a rock in the forest, time could just slip past him and pay him no mind.

They all float like that for a while. At some point Kiri notices Spider up there alone and she and Lo’ak come to sit with him, and after the initial fear that they had alerted Neytiri, his heart lifts just a bit. They offer him thin, watery smiles and ask him if he is alright, and he tells them that he's fine, and they don’t ask him again. 

Hours later, they arrive at a Metkayina village that looks a lot like the others he had seen whilst out with Quaritch, and Spider’s stomach twists as they approach to shore. 

His fears are confirmed when they land at the beach. The Sullys are welcomed with solemn hugs, Spider trying to hang back and out of sight, until one of the Metkayina spots him and shouts in alarm. 

They know of him, the demon boy with the blue stripes that burnt down villages and hurt Na’vi with the sky people.

Before he can react, he is bound, hissing faces pressing in close to his, and his body is yanked into positions it loudly resists, making him cry out. He doesn't struggle, it'd be pointless against their strength.

‘Hey, hey!’ Jake is suddenly in front of him, one arm in front in a placating gesture towards the agitated crowd, one hand back, pressing to Spider’s chest. Spider wonders if Jake can feel how his heart is beating so hard it feels painful. Spider's head starts to spin with fear. 

‘This one is with us, he is ours,’ Jake says, and Spider tears his eyes from the aggressive Na’vi around him to the back of Jake’s head. 

Ours.

A lump forms in Spider's throat. 

There is conversation around him, taut with anger, but Spider has stopped listening, the blood rushing in his ears too loud. A wave of dizziness rushes over him, and the world tilts nauseatingly.

Suddenly, his binds are cut and he is dropped like a puppet. 

‘Woah, easy, Spider,’ Jake says, dipping quickly to catch Spider as his legs give out. 

Spider tries to stand, but it suddenly feels as though all the strength in his body has drained away. Spider clings blindly to Jake, the unsteadiness of the sand beneath his feet making his head spin as though he were taking a dive riding an ikran, and his vision begins to go white at the edges.

He can't pass out now, not now, not when someone might hurt him if he makes the wrong move, but his stupid body won't listen. Don't pass out. Don't pass out.

‘You alright?’ someone is asking him, maybe Jake, but it sounds to Spider like he is under water. 

Someone else asks what’s wrong with him. He wants to reply, say that he’s fine, but its like he’s powering down, and even his weak grip on Jake’s wrist where Jake holds the back of his head slips, Spider's fingers turning numb. 

‘I think I’m gonna--’ Spider doesn’t get to finish his sentence before the white explods in his eyes and he falls unconscious. 

Spider wakes with a jolt, a gasp getting stuck in his throat as his eyes fly open, his body already bracing for- for something. The dream he was having is already dissolving, leaving his body damp with sweat and trembling from a fear just beyond his grasp. 

All he can do is lie there for a moment, waiting until the trembling eases to a lighter shaking so he can sit up. 

His eyes focus at the same time that his hearing comes back, like a bubble around him bursting and placing him back in reality. He is in some sort of hut, the moonlight seeping in from small gaps in the stretches of woven material that make up its walls and roof. He can see dark shapes in rows from one side of the hut to another, Na’vi shaped and still. He is separate from the rows, the mat he is lying on pressed right to the side where the floor and wall leave a tiny gap for a chilled wind to lick at his damp skin, raising goosebumps along his arms and legs. 

Over his heavy breathing and thundering heart, Spider hears the gentle sound of nighttime- bugs and birds he recognises, but which seem unfamiliar at the same time. He hears the rush and crash of water. 

Suddenly, Spider is unbelievably thirsty. He doesn’t know what time it is, and he can’t recall when the last time he drank any water was. His throat is like sandpaper, dry enough to sting as he breathes through his nose.

Slowly, Spider gets to his feet. A wave of dizziness makes him falter, but he forces himself to move towards the entrance of the hut, using the slack in the woven walls to hold onto as he goes. He tries to be as quiet as he can, hoping not to wake any of the Na’vi nearby. He stops briefly to see if any of the Sullys are here with him, but it’s too dark to see. These Na’vi are lying each alone on their own mat, though, which the Omatikaya never do when sleeping anymore. Ever since Hometree was destroyed, he’s been told.

At the entrance to the hut, Spider looks out to see that he is on the edge of the village, and it takes him a moment to orient himself in the dark. The hut seems to be a long way from where Payakan had arrived with them. 

He knows now that the water he heard before is the ocean that rushes beneath his feet as he walks along the bridging path that winds between the mighty roots of the Hometree. He heads towards where he can see some firelight towards a curve in the island's edge, the warm glow looking brighter by how dark it is this far from it. Voices float over the breeze from that direction, and Spider hopes he will be able to find someone he recognises there, or some water. 

Or food. He needs food too, desperately. The walk over gives Spider time to do a self inventory.

His chest is burning from the cut Neytiri gave him.

His stomach feels sick, maybe from hunger, or dehydration, or both.

His limbs are weak, and he has to avoid bouncing too much on the path or his knees threaten to give in. 

His stripes are almost completely gone. The sea water made the matts in his hair tighten and they pull on his scalp. The goosebumps on his skin haven't gone away, and he is covered in other scrapes and bruises. 

Overall, not so good. But Spider figures that it’s nothing that can’t be fixed with some food and water. When he finds the Sullys he will ask them to help him re-do his stripes. After all, Neteyam always--

Spider stops, all the breath punched from his lungs.

Neteyam. 

Neteyam is dead. 

Something raw and burning surges up Spider's stomach, his lungs, his heart, his throat, and be falls to a crouch before whatever it is comes exploding out of him. He curls, his head between his knees and his arms circling, squeezing, until his ears are thundering and his body is protesting. 

He presses his eyes shut.

Neteyam is dead, and it's Spider’s fault. Neteyam and Lo’ak had come to rescue him, Neteyam had been so brave, Spider had been so happy, and now-- and now--

Spider opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. 

‘Boy?’ Someone says close by, and it startles Spider so much he almost falls onto his back. 

A Na’vi man is standing on the path in front of him, a few paces away, and he looks like the Metkayina girl- Tsireya- that had been with Neteyam when he--

Stop. Don’t think. Someone is talking to you. 

‘Yes, sir?’ Spider says, the Na’vi words thick on his tongue.

‘What are you doing?’ the man asks. From this angle, the soft light from the village behind the man obscures his features in light shadow. Spider doesn’t see any open hostility, but his body feels coiled like a spring. 

He pauses, not sure how to answer. He was trying to find somthing to eat, or drink, but now that doesn't seem important to Spider at all. He was- is- missing Neteyam, but missing feels like the wrong word, and he searches his mind for something in Na’vi that explains the way he feels torn in half, guilt and misery and regret so thick it makes it hard to breathe. No words come to him. 

Clearly, he’s taken too long to reply. 

‘You should be with the others,’ the man says, and for a moment Spider is hopeful that he will be lead to the Sullys. The man waits for Spider to respond and, when he doesn’t, raises his hand to point behind Spider to the hut he had come from. ‘There, where you awoke. Go, now.’ 

‘Water,’ Spider croaks, the lump in his throat catching his voice. He stands up, not even reaching the man’s chest in height. ‘I came for water, sir. I’m thirsty.’

The man regards Spider for a moment. ‘I do not think we met while you were conscious. My name is Tonowari, I am Olo’eyktan. You know my daughter, Tsireya.’ 

Spider lowers his head, raising his fingertips to his forehead. ‘I see you, Olo’eyktan,’ he says, keeping his voice low. He hadn’t realised he had been speaking to the clan leader, and he suddenly feels a rush of shame that he had been caught in his moment of grief by a respected person. 

Tonowari doesn’t return the gesture, which is fine. Spider is used to that. 

‘Olo’eyktan,’ Spider starts, keeping his eyes down. ‘Do you… where are the Sullys?’ Everything would feel better, everything would make more sense if he could just get to them. Even... even Neytiri.

Tonowari straightens. ‘They are with Neteyam,’ he says evenly. ‘They are not taking visitors while they mourne him. You may find them in the morning.’ He steps towards Spider, as if to herd him back towards that hut he had come from. 

Unconsciously, Spider takes a step back, his hands becoming clammy. Tonowari is imposing in a way that even Jake has never been; his shoulders are broad and his face, from what Spider can see, is angular and hard. In his hand he holds a long spear, and the dim light glints off the sharp edge.

Spider glances beyond Tonowari, towards the firelight and voices. ‘But, I--’

‘I am warning you now. You will return to that hut.’ Tonowari doesn't say it, he growls it.

Suddenly, Spider’s heart is jackhammering in his chest. That is hostility, and Spider feels like he needs to get as far away from Tonowari as he can. He's not safe here, he's not safe alone with this angry Na'vi.

Foolishly, Spider tries to dive past Tonowari, making a run for where the light is, but in one motion Tonowari steps forward and grabs the hair at the back of Spider’s neck. It would be a hold to pacify a Na’vi, their queue in such a vulnerable position, but for Spider, it takes him back to the way he was always, always restrained with the RDA.

Suddenly, his heart is in his throat, and his body surges with fear. He doesn’t mean to hiss, but he does it before he can think any better, and he’s too afraid to regret it. 

Tonowari yanks on his hair, and Spider is tipped off balance. On reflex, he reaches back to claw at the hand there, but it’s unrelenting. Once one of them has Spider, they never let go until he’s back in that cell, it doesn’t matter how much he hisses or screams or kicks or twists. 

It’s the same. 

It’s the same as it was at the RDA.

Spider is thrown to the ground. He’s been dragged back to the hut and he’s sprawled on the mat he had woken up on.  

Tonowari turns and strides out of the hut and, just as Spider is about to run for an escape, Tonowari swings a heavy lattice over the entrance of the hut and seals it with several mechanisms. 

Spider stumbles over to it. The lattice is too tight to get even his fingers through, only pinpricks of feint light between what seem to be a combination of strong wood and some sort of vegetation to tie it together. It’s sealed to the hut, and all the pushing, shaking, and shoving Spider has the strength for doesn’t even budge it. 

It’s a cage. He’s been locked in. 

Fear rushes down Spider’s spine like ice water, and before he knows what he’s doing, he is raging against the door just like he would at the RDA. He screams, and hisses, and beats at the doorway with everything he has. 

No one comes to check, not even a shadow passes in front of the doorway. Are the Sullys so far from him that they can’t hear even his loudest screams? 

His voice cracks and leaves him in a rush, and he sits back on his heels, shaking and breathing heavily. 

He's trapped, and it squeezes on him like a vice over his chest.

By now, it has gotten even darker than when he had first awoken, and only in turning to inspect the space for any other way to break out of the hut, does Spider suddenly remember all the sleeping Na’vi. 

Not one had even stirred at all his ruckus.

‘Hello?’ Spider calls into the room, hoping that at least someone is awake to share this despair with him. ‘They’ve locked us in,’ he announces, but the silence that responds is almost a physical weight that settles heavily on his shoulders.

His breath the only sound apart from the water below, Spider edges his way towards the nearest sleeping Na’vi. This close, Spider can just about make out the way that the whole body is covered in a blanket, even over the head. It strikes Spider as odd because the Na’vi he has slept near don’t usually use covers, though he wasn’t sure about these Metkayina people just yet. 

‘Hello?’ Spider leans in, and slowly takes a corner of the cover to lift it. 

Immediately, Spider meets the gaze of the Na’vi beneath- staring wide-eyed and shocked at him. Spider lets out a strangled cry and yanks his hand back, the cover falling back over the Na’vi. 

‘Sorry, sorry,’ Spider gasps, holding his breath for the Na’vi to sit up and scold him for disturbing them. 

They don’t, though. They lie still. 

Spider wants to call out again, but the truth that he had been willfully ignoring forces itself upon him like a roof caving in. 

That Na’vi’s chest isn’t moving. 

That Na’vi is dead. 

All the Na’vi in this hut are corpses. 

Spider thinks he makes another sound, but he’s too busy scrambling away- away- away to even notice. His back hits the cage door, and he turns to it. 

‘Please,’ he calls, his voice raw and catching. ‘Let me out of here, please!’ 

No one comes. 

Spider gags, and he tries furiously to calm his stomach before he throws up in his mask.

Taking deep, shaky breaths, Spider manages to calm himself enough to quiten the thunder of his heartbeat in his ears. He listens hard for the sound of anyone passing by that he can call to, but there is absolutely no one. 

He curls himself against the cage door, wrapping his arms around himself. It gives him some comfort, and he tries to conjure the feeling of Jake holding Spider close to him just recently. He tries to think of other times like that, trying to keep the panic at bay, but he swallows around the fact that he cannot remember another time he got that close to a hug. 

Against his will, his thoughts turn to whether or not anyone might be missing him right now, or wondering where he is.

Even if Quaritch… if Quaritch is missing him. 

Quaritch had called him son. 

Jake had called him ours . 

He wants more than anything in the entire world for that to mean something, to mean that there is a reason why he’s been left here and that it’s just temporary until he can be with them again. That want leaves him feeling hollow, like his chest has been ripped open and something precious has fallen out and been lost somewhere.

Spider pushes the thoughts from his mind, dipping his face to his knees and wishing he didn’t have to wear this stupid mask so he could press his stinging eyes to them. Thankfully, no tears come, but Spider assumes that is more due to his dehydration than his own emotional fortitude. 

He hopes the Sullys come for him. The press of the silence in this room and the weight of all the still, cold bodies around him might become suffocating if he can’t get out soon. Spider has never done well in enclosed spaces. 

Spider wakes because of the heat. 

He can’t tell what time it is, the sun difficult to pinpoint from the small gaps in the hut, but the daytime temperature has soared enough for Spider to find himself drenched in sweat as he uncurls to sit up. 

Spider groans, but his voice is like gravel in his painfully dry throat, and he coughs. He winces when that hurts, too.

It’s so hot in the hut that Spider feels dizzy with it, the air being filtered through his mask is humid and thick. He turns to the cage door, giving it a feeble push, just in case. 

Suddenly, the mechanisms on the door are being undone, and the door swings open. Spider doesn’t know how he didn’t hear anyone coming, but he leaps towards the opening, hoping someone has come to let him out. 

A long stick with a forked end jabs forward in the gap between the door and the hut, and it expertly catches Spider around his throat, something swinging to click closed behind his neck. 

‘Okay, it is caught,’ someone says beyond the door, and Spider cries out as he is forced backwards, the Metkayina man holding the stick stepping into the hut and pushing so that Spider topples and falls to his back. The impact winds him, and he struggles as he tries to catch his breath.

The Metkayina holds Spider to the ground, the stick long enough that even as Spider tries to kick at him, he is too far away. The pressure on his neck makes panic race over his chest, and he’s clawing on the stick. His hands slip right over the smooth wood, and he tries to force his fingers between the fork and his neck, but the man holds him so tightly that he can't even do that. Spider is frighteneningly close to choking, and lying on his back this way is dangerous. He tries to hiss, or speak, but his throat is already so ruined he can hardly make any sound at all. 

The man does not appraoch Spider from the other end of the stick, and he also doesn't look at Spider as he presses the stick down, rather keeping his eyes back on the door. Spider realises that he's just being held, and keeping the stick in both hands just in case, Spider relents his twisting and kicking and gives in to the exhaustion he'd built after just that small amount of fight. He lies there, still, and watches the man holding the other end of the stick.

Behind the man, more Metkayina step into the hut cautiously, eyeing Spider like a dangerous animal. These people don't have any sort of weapons on them, and his gut pools with guilt when he sees fear in their eyes as they scoot past him. He averts his eyes to the wall of the hut, trying to stop his chest from heaving so that he might seem unthreatening. If he can just prove that he’s not dangerous, that he doesn’t want- never wanted- to hurt anyone, then maybe they will release the restraint, or even let him out soon. 

He knows his stripes are gone, and he feels strange and foreign to himself, seeing them stare at him like that. 

The group of Na’vi eventually turn from him and begin to move from one body to another. There are children in this group, and Spider realises that this is a family, and when the mother lifts one of the covers and screams, Spider knows that they have found what they came for.

They found their missing person, someone killed in the battle at the Three Brothers. 

The woman wails, and the children start to cry. Spider turns his head further away, wishing he didn’t have to hear this, wishing the twisting in his heart wasn’t so painful.  

He knows that pain, and he misses Neteyam in that moment so severely it feels like a knife tearing down his throat, down his chest, down his stomach. He can't hear this, he can't.

There are soft words spoken as the family continues to cry, and Spider feels in the bounce of the floor that they are coming back towards the door. He looks at the family as they pass him, their tears streaming down their faces and a small child clutching at their mother as she holds them to her chest. Behind them, others have lifted the body, still wrapped in the covers, and are carrying it out after them. 

It hurts.

After they are out, the man holding the stick inches backwards to the door, only releasing Spider’s neck just as he yanks the pole back through the door and slamming it shut, locking it again. 

Spider doesn’t bother to call out, to beg for them to let him go. He gets the message loud and clear: they are keeping him locked in here on purpose. 

That’s fine. It’s okay. Spider understands. 

But he wonders what happened after he collapsed on the beach, why Jake let them take him away after he had defended Spider so openly. He can only assume it’s because the Metkayina were not willing to let the person who brought such suffering to the other clans just roam around their village, which, yeah. Spider understands. Maybe Jake just needs to negotiate his release. It will be fine.

Spider checks every single body in the hut. None of them are Neteyam; all of these Na'vi are strangers to Spider.

And so the next few days go. Spider lies on the hut floor, sitting up when he had the strength to but after the last time they wrestled him to the ground for another body to be identified and taken, he simply couldn’t get himself to move after they had gone. 

The next time, the stick man looks at Spider with apprehension when he approaches, and slowly places the fork over his neck while Spider watches lethargically. 

Spider stops moving, stops speaking, stops looking at the Na’vi that come in and out of the hut. It seems, though, that the less he does, the more that sleep slips from his grasp after each eclipse. 

He prefers it to when he does eventually fall to sleep, the nightmares of flames and screaming and hands on his body worse than the sickening loneliness of the night hours when not even the stick man comes to see him.

Spider hates feeling so weak, but the thirst and hunger he had felt the first time he had woken had morphed into a radiating pain in his stomach that came and receded in waves, the rest of his body struggling with the heat of the daytime and the sleeplessness of night. 

The bodies in the hut dwindle, only a few remaining from the rows that had occupied it previously. Spider supposes it’s good that he won’t have to share the space with the corpses soon, but he is also surprised to find that the fewer there are, the more lonely he feels. At least with other Na’vi here, he could pretend that he was just being stored like them until the Sullys came to claim him just like the other families with their loved ones. As the days go by, though, the hut looks more and more like a prison and less like a morgue, and it makes it hard to breathe sometimes. 

No one brings him any food or water while he is held here, and the thought crosses his mind that he was put with the corpses with the hope that he would catch death by chance, and relieve them of his presence. 

Stubbornly, Spider does not die. 

Over that time, Spider convinces himself that he deserves this. His mind, feverishly unfocussed and desperate for escape from the pain his body is in, replays the last few months in pieces to him. 

The worst ones are when he sees himself smiling, sees himself happy, with the Recom team. How could he have been happy there? How could he have felt so comfortable and then, only faced with what he was helping them do, grow panicked and fearful as though it was an unexpected consequence of his actions. 

He knew what he was doing. He was riding along. Just like Quaritch asked. 

You just didn’t want to be hurt anymore, a small voice spoke in his mind. He couldn’t place who it sounded like. If you didn’t do what Quaritch asked, they would have hurt you again like they did in that machine. It’s not your fault.

It is his fault. He should have refused and taken whatever those scientists were going to do to him. He couldn’t have betrayed the Sullys that way. 

Eywa will forgive you.

He is not a child of Eywa, he cannot earn her forgiveness. 

They will come and find you soon, they will hold you close again.

No, they won’t.

…No, they won’t. 

Chapter Text

‘Oh, Spider.’ 

Jake looked up when he heard Kiri breathe Spider’s name, squinting into the sunlight to spot Spider sitting a small ways away on Payakan’s back. Good, he’d found his way back to them. Jake noted Spider’s curled posture, the way he hugged his knees to his chest and had his face turned away from them, having not heard Kiri speak over the sound of the waves.

Lo’ak and Kiri had gone to him, and Jake hadn’t heard anything of their conversation, but he let them be. He didn’t blame Spider for keeping some distance when he would have otherwise shoved himself into their space, not after what Neytiri had done. 

She would never have actually hurt Spider, though. Jake believed this because, well, the alternative was something that Jake didn't like to think about. 

Jake settled against Neytiri’s side, still clinging to Payakan’s fin. His whole body ached, and he knew he was going to get it ten-fold tomorrow. He wasn’t as young as he used to be, and fighting like he had with Quaritch had taken enough out of him that he felt his strength begin to fade. But he pressed against Neytiri as best he could, letting her know he was here with her. 

She had stopped crying, but Jake could feel her despair like a knife that irritated between his ribs, burning with every breath. It was his own despair too, he was pretty sure, though he didn’t let himself linger on that. At least with Neytiri’s grief he knew what to do: to hold her, to kiss her, to comfort her. With his own grief, he didn’t even know where to start. He couldn’t even find where it began and ended, couldn’t look at it too long without feeling it would kill him if he stepped inside. 

Jake put it away. He could start with Neytiri. With Tuk. With Kiri, and with his Lo’ak. He would get to himself later. 

Payakan was a gentle host, evidently trying hard not to use the fin they all clung to and keeping himself at the water’s surface, even though it was difficult for him to move that way. He didn’t speak, but rather shared in their silence, and Jake met his eyes at one moment, able to express his gratitude. 

Payakan looked at Jake, and said nothing. 

Jake noticed when Tuk began to tire, her head bobbing as she tried to stay awake.

‘C’mere, baby,’ Jake said, reaching to her and pulling her in the water to his chest. He turned himself to the side, using one arm outstretched to hold onto Payakan, his other arm to curl around Tuk. Her head rested on his neck and shoulder, far enough from the water to be okay if she slept. 

She called to him softly, her small hands clinging to his chest. 

‘I’ve got you,’ Jake said, giving her a squeeze. ‘I’ve always got you.’

They arrived at Awa’atlu hours later, exhausted and hurting.

Tonowari and Ronal were first to reach them at the shore. There was no celebrating or cheering as the Metkayina crowded to receive them.

Ronal hugged Neytiri for a long, long time, rocking her slightly as Neytiri began to cry into her shoulder. Jake watched, feeling his heart break anew. 

Tonowari placed a hand on Jake’s shoulder, the one that didn’t hold Tuk. ‘Tsireya brought Neteyam back. We have him here,’ he said, and Jake nodded, quickly swiping at a tear. That was a relief, that was good. Neteyam was here. 

There was suddenly a commotion behind him, and Jake turned to see a group of Metkayina gathered nearer the water. He spotted Spider in the middle of them, and handed Tuk to Tonowari just in time to see a few of them lunge at Spider, taking him by the arms and hair and binding him. 

Spider cried out, and Jake rushed to him. 

‘Hey, hey!’ Jake put himself in front of Spider, swinging his arm to get some space between Spider and them. Jake found Spider behind him with his hand, in the back of his mind noting that Spider felt really, really cold. 

Jake explained that Spider was with his family, but he could see in their eyes that they were not satisfied by that. 

‘He is of the sky people! A human!’ one exclaimed, as though this was new information to Jake. 

‘I know, but--’

‘He was the one leading the sky people to the Metkayina. Look, his skin: he is the striped human we heard about,’ another says, and the crowd becomes agitated again.

Jake had heard this about Spider too, and he wasn’t sure what to make of it just yet. In his heart, Jake was hoping that Spider would deny it was him the reports mentioned, but he didn’t.

‘Just… Just let him stay with us, we will keep him under observation. He was captured by the sky people, but he was raised with the Na’vi way of life. He is like me.’ Jake raised his hand to show the crowd. ‘He wouldn’t have hurt the Na’vi of his own volition.’ Jake tried to put conviction into his words, but the truth was that Jake had no idea why Spider had been with the RDA on those raids. The thought of him spending that much time in close contact with Quaritch made Jake feel a bit sick. 

Jake looked to Tonowari, who had put Tuk down after she woke from the ruckus. Tonowari’s face was hard and unreadable, and Jake tried to plead with his eyes for Tonowari to step in to placate his people. Tonowari did not. 

‘Let us take him, let me make sure he does not cause harm, it will be my responsibility.’ Jake said, and there was a murmuring amongst the crowd. 

They knew Jake Sully was strong, they knew he was capable of a challenge, of facing the sky people head on. 

A hiss sounded behind him. ‘Fine,’ the man holding Spider’s bound arms spat, looking Jake in the eye as Jake turned to him. ‘Let the mistake be on your head.’ He sliced the binds, and the others let go. 

Spider stumbled, and Jake managed to catch him before he hit the ground. Spider gripped Jake’s wrist with one hand, and Jake could feel the way Spider trembled as he tried to stand. 

Up close, Jake could see Spider was not in a good way. The cut across his chest was angry red, and the way the Na’vi had pulled him had yanked the scab open, blood blooming and beginning to drip down his chest. Spider was still cold, and even in the midday sun he looked pallid, highlighting the bruises and scrapes across his body. 

‘You alright?’ Jake asked, and Spider looked up to him, his eyes roaming and unfocussed. ‘Hey, Spider?’ Jake shook Spider gently. ‘Focus up, bud, what’s going on?’

‘What’s wrong with him?’ Tuk said, suddenly at Jake’s side. 

Spider’s hand slipped from Jake’s wrist, and Spider spoke so softly Jake almost didn’t hear it at all. 

‘I think I’m gonna--’ 

Spider went limp in Jake’s arms. 

Tuk screamed, pressing her face to Jake’s side and bringing Neytiri and the other kids to where Jake was trying to manoeuvre Spider to the ground. Kiri called Spider’s name, coming to kneel at Spider’s head and threading her fingers into his hair.

‘It’s alright,’ Jake said, taking Tuk’s hand once Spider was down. ‘He’s fainted. He’s probably just tired. He’s fine. Look, you can see him breathing.’

Tonowari stepped in front of Jake, crouching on the other side of Spider. 

‘Jake, I am not pleased that he has come here,’ Tonowari said, a look of unease on his face as he watched Spider. ‘This one could bring more danger yet. How sure are you of his harmlessness?’

Jake couldn’t answer. 

Tonowari sighed. ‘I will take him to be held in the village--’

‘No, wait, I said I’d--’

‘He will not be harmed, Jake. But you and your family need to tend to Neteyam. You cannot mourne your son and watch this boy at the same time. Let me take him to recover while Neteyam’s burial is prepared.’ The sadness on Tonowari’s face could only be a fraction of what Jake felt in that moment. ‘Your family will need you.’

Jake felt guilt twist in his heart. How hadn’t he thought of that? He looked to Neytiri, tear tracks still drying on her cheeks, and to Tuk’s hand still held tightly in his own. ‘Right,’ he croaked, having to clear his voice to speak. ‘Right, of course. Of course.’

Tonowari nodded, and he slipped his arms beneath Spider’s shoulders and knees, and Jake turned back to his family.

‘Dad, where is he taking Spider?’ Kiri asked, sounding anxious. ‘He needs to stay with us.’

‘Spider’s going to go rest in the village for now,’ Jake said, trying to keep his voice level. ‘He will join us as soon as he’s ready. Come on, we need to go see Neteyam. ’

Spider is the last thing left in the hut, and he finds the great space suffocating alone.

The last body had been taken that morning, and no one else had approached the hut since then. In the silence, Spider’s mind had started playing tricks on him: the rush of waves had become the roar of flames over his burning hot skin, the sound of insects making him think they were crawling inside his ears. Each time he had fallen out of it gasping and sweating, like his brain had used the rest of his strength to conjure these frightening images. 

In his more lucid moments, his thoughts are plagued with worries about the Sullys, about why no one has come to get him yet. With nothing to distract himself, he can't help but think of things that might be wrong: maybe Kiri is lying hurt somewhere cold and dark, or Lo'ak is far away and unable to find his way home, or Jake is drowning under something so heavy he can't get out. The thoughts roll over and over in his mind, until he has to pinch himself to stop them.

Night has fallen again, and Spider tries to enjoy the respite from the sweltering heat that gets worse day by day. He can’t seem to muster any enthusiasm for it, though, because his body is in such pain it makes much else seem like a leaf in a hurricane. 

The hunger pains had grown to excruciating twists in his stomach, and Spider, with no voice to cry out as his body spasms with it, simply breathes through it. 

The cage door to the hut swings open, and Spider tries to lift his head. One tiny, little spark of hope that it is finally, finally, his turn to go home with Jake snuffed out when he sees it is the stick man. 

Spider eyes him warily, but notices he is not holding the forked stick at all. 

The man stands a few paces from Spider for a moment, before edging slowly closer. 

Against his conscious thought, Spider’s heart begins to beat faster, watching the man shuffle inch by inch towards Spider. Spider can’t tell what he wants, but he knows he hasn’t the strength to fight right now. 

‘Can you hear me?’ the man says, coming to crouch in front of Spider. ‘Do you understand what I say?’ He is speaking slowly, oversaying his vowels and emphasising the glottal stops as though speaking to an animal.

Spider opens his mouth to reply, but the words come in breath with no sound. 

The man leans in, a frown on his face. ‘What did you say?’

‘I said: what do you want?’ Spider pushes the words from his throat, but the pain from the dryness there makes his breath catch. 

The man laughs, and it's so loud from how softly they’d been talking that Spider flinches. 

‘You speak just like the Sullys, like a forest boy,’ he says, and Spider stiffens.

‘The Sullys… Where are they?’ 

The man stops laughing, and he frowns. ‘Why do you want to know?’

‘Are they okay?’

The man stares at Spider, one brow arching in suspicion. He doesn’t reply, he just shakes his head and clicks his tongue.

‘Look, I felt bad seeing you look all pathetic like that, so I brought you this,’ he says, producing what seems like a couple of pouches from the bag strapped to his hip, each about the size of his large hand. 

In the dark, Spider can’t tell what they are, and this must show on his face. The man takes one pouch in each hand. ‘Water. Seeds.’ He raises each hand to indicate which is which. 

Spider’s stomach clenches, and he’s reaching for them before his mind catches up. When it finally does, he freezes. ‘Why?’ he says. ‘Are they poisoned?’

The man laughs again. ‘Poisoned, he asks! No, I have not poisoned it.’ To demonstrate, he unscrews a cap from the water pouch and takes a swig. 

Spider tries not to lunge forward and rip it from his hands before he drinks any more, but manages to keep himself still. 

‘See? No poison,’ the man says, popping a couple of seeds into his mouth for good measure. 

Spider pushes himself to sitting, his body trembling with even that small amount of effort. As soon as he’s semi-confident he won’t tip over, he’s reaching for the water pouch and ripping off his mask without thought.

The feeling of drinking is immeasurable, the water is warm from the day but at this moment, it is the best thing that Spider has ever tasted. He gulps the water down desperately, feeling it soothe his throat and fill his stomach. 

Noticing he’s ploughed through nearly half of the water pouch already, Spider forces himself to stop, pulling it from his mouth even though the thirst is still there and screwing the cap back on. His lungs burn, and he fumbles to replace his mask before his chest spasms. 

‘Why?’ Spider gasps, catching his breath. ‘Why are you helping me?’ 

The man hands over the bag of seeds to Spider, seeming to contemplate his answer. Eventually, he shrugs. ‘Like I said, I felt bad for you.’ He regards Spider for a long moment. ‘You must be some sort of child. You hardly even tried to attack me when I bound you that first time.’

Spider bristles at being called a child. ‘I’m nearly a man.’ 

It just makes the man laugh again. 

Spider looks at him, finding that his smile seems quite kind. ‘Can… can you let me out of here?’

The smile diminishes slightly. ‘No, of course not,’ he says, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. ‘You speak Na’vi very well, you even dress like us, but I’m not going to be the one to let a human into the village.’ His smile seems frozen on his face. He goes on, as though answering a question that Spider didn’t ask. ‘My sister was married into another clan, on an island miles South from here. She sent word to us about you, that you burnt their villages to dust and beat their people. I may have a soft heart for children, but I am no fool.’

Spider stares hard at the pouches in his hands. He wishes he could deny it, wishes he could prove his innocence, but “I didn’t do any of that, I just stood there and watched it and helped with other parts, like translating demands” doesn’t sound a whole lot like innocence when said aloud, he supposes. 

‘Does,’ Spider starts, but the shake in his slowly returning voice makes it hard to speak, so he has to clear his throat and try again. ‘Does Jake know about that?’

The man hums. ‘Yes, Jake Sully was the one to lead the attack after finding out the sky people- you- were terrorising the other villages.’ He shrugs. ‘I have no idea why he brought you here, but it’s made the people quite anxious. Hence…’ he gestures to the hut they are sitting in.

Spider tries to swallow the lump in his throat, which has grown painful. Jake knows about what he did. Jake doesn’t know everything that Spider has done, but he knows enough. Does Neytiri know? Does Kiri know?

‘Right,’ Spider says, suddenly not wanting to talk to this man anymore. ‘Could you tell Jake I’m sorry, please? And, um, thanks for these.’ He gestures to the pouches in his hands. He turns himself away, hoping that the man will get the idea. 

The man looks at Spider for a moment, and Spider keeps his eyes down. Finally, he stands to leave, and Spider hears the mechanisms lock at the door. 

Tonowari is anxious. Ronal is working hard to manage the heavy losses and the many wounded in the village, and he can see she is beginning to fray; her temper shortening. He worries about her, and about the baby. Of course she won’t listen to him when he gently suggests she rest, so he watches her closely from afar. 

In their short moments alone, she weeps into him and begs for Eywa’s strength, and he holds her together, swallowing his own despair, and lets her go when she is able to stand again. 

There are councils held frequently: matters of filling empty ranks, word from other villages, and the disquiet amongst the people requiring an ear to their worries. 

Then there is the human boy. 

He hasn’t seen him since the escape attempt the other night, and Tonowari is relieved that he had managed to catch him when he did, before anyone in the village had spotted him roaming freely. Since then, Tonowari has been too busy to go and check on him. He has had no report of aggression or harm from those managing the dead, which Tonowari takes as good news that Spider is at least behaving himself for now. 

Tonight, Tonowari has a rare evening to himself, and he has decided he is going to go and see Spider. 

Walking out of the village towards the hut where Spider is kept, Tonowari tries to squash the apprehension that pools in his stomach. Just like that night he had caught Spider escaping, Tonowari is filled with an unhelpful dread at the thought of a human- that human living amongst his people. 

Jake had defended Spider, calling him one of their own, but try as he might Tonowari cannot marry the idea of Jake’s family with the knowledge of Spider’s betrayal.

Approaching the hut, Tonowari gestures to the warrior at his side to lower his spear for now. The least aggression he can face Spider with, the more likely this will be a constructive conversation. 

Opening the door to the hut, Tonowari finds Spider curled to the wall a small ways from the door. He sees Spider lift his head to see him, and Spider immediately goes tight like a spring. Tonowari braces for Spider to lunge for the open door, so he is surprised when Spider instead backs himself away from the door, using the walls to pull himself to standing. 

He looks horrible. Spider is visibly trembling as he stands, and he looks like he has lost weight since Tonowari carried him here that first day. Some sense of guilt rises in Tonowari, but he squashes it down. This is not the time for sensitivities.

‘Be calm,’ Tonowari says, keeping his voice level. ‘I am just here to talk.’ 

Spider’s eyes dart to the warrior at Tonowari’s side, and back. Tomowari asks his companion to step outside the hut, but stay close.

Seeing this, Spider seems to relax a little. He brings a shaking hand up to his face and greets Tonowari.

‘I see you, Olo’eyktan,’ Spider says, his voice hoarse. 

Tonowari straightens, encouraged by Spider's respect. He keeps his guard up, though, wary that at any moment the human could become vicious and aggressive. He won't be swayed by any victim act Spider tries to put on.

‘You may sit, boy, if it’s more comfortable.’

‘I’ll stand, thanks.’ 

Tonowari smiles at Spider’s pride, seeing for a moment a reflection of his wife’s stubborn face. He shakes the thought from his mind. 

‘I wanted to apologise for our meeting recently. I know I was… undiplomatic that night. I thought I should come and explain.’ It might be his willful imagination, but Tonowari thinks he sees Spider relax just a little bit. 

Okay, now the difficult part. He has heard that humans are clever, and Tonowari hopes he can have this conversation without things turning savage.

‘I understand that you have grown up amongst the Omatikaya, and it is obvious from your mannerisms that you have assimilated well. Jake Sully has made the connection between you and himself, both being sky people that have adopted the ways of the Na’vi.’

Tonowari pauses and waits until Spider nods. Spider doesn’t say anything, and he is leaning hard on the wall for strength. 

Tonowari takes a deep breath. ‘While this may be, this does not excuse or erase the past. Days ago, I received word that a human boy that matches your description was part of the team that terrorised villages to find Jake Sully and his family. Can you confirm that this was you?’

Spider had averted his gaze as Tonowari spoke, staring hatefully at the floor and the muscles in his jaw working under his mask. 

‘Yeah, it was me,’ Spider says finally.

Tonowari nods. ‘I do understand that no Na’vi were killed, but there were other losses at the hands of this group. Weeks of food, precious Ilu, homes, memories, dignity. The loss of Tulkun had been the biggest transgression. Our brothers and sisters, slaughtered without mercy. Then, the loss of life because of the battle with the sky people.’ Tonowari gestures to the cavernous hut.

Spider flinches hard enough to buckle, and he falls to one knee before Tonowari. 

‘I’m sorry,’ Spider says. He won’t meet Tonowari’s eyes.

‘So you understand that we cannot welcome you into our village.’

Spider’s head shoots up, his eyes wide. ‘What?’ he says. He is visibly trembling harder now, the hissing of his breathing pack getting faster, and he lowers himself to both knees. ‘What do you mean?’

There is a look of despair in Spider’s eyes, and that brings an edge of anger to Tonowari he was hoping to keep at bay. As if this boy expects hospitality as reward for his cruelty. Tonowari can see right through the deception, and Spider's dedication to making himself seem scared and weak makes Tonowari's gut roil with disgust. Tonowari stays standing, and he crosses his arms. ‘You are the monster that brought fear and pain to our people, to bring you into our home would be akin to suicide. I am Olo’eyktan, and I will do anything to protect my people, and it’s for this reason that I refuse you refuge in our village.’ 

Spider stares at Tonowari, his eyes searching for something in Tonowari’s expression. Whatever it is, he doesn’t seem to find it, and his head lowers again. Spider says something so softly that Tonowari does not catch it over the sound of the water.

‘Speak, boy.’

‘I’m not a monster,’ Spider repeats.

‘What are you, then?’

‘I’m…’ Spider looks to the wall, to Tonowari, to his hands below him. ‘I’m… I’m not a monster.’

‘And yet you look just like one,’ Tonowari snaps. ‘Listen to me, human. I know that Jake Sully has some sort of affection for you, but I am not one you can play games with. I will keep my people safe, and you will not endanger any more lives.’ Tonowari takes a deep breath, clenching and releasing his fists on his arms. ‘You will not find a home here.’

Tonowari stays for a moment, daring Spider to speak again. He turns to leave, and only then does Spider move. 

‘Wait,’ Spider says. He scrambles to follow Tonowari as he steps outside the door, his guard swinging it shut behind him before Spider reaches the threshold. As Tonowari secures the bolts, he hears Spider scratching at the lattice. ‘What do you mean? Where am I supposed to go? If you want me to leave, then let me out of here- let me out!’

Tonowari turns to leave, Spider’s calls fading fast as the night time sounds rise to welcome him home. 

Spider collapses against the door the moment he hears Tonowari leaving, unable to keep himself up anymore. His heart is in his throat, and he can’t get his breathing to slow. Dipping his head between his knees, Spider feels the urge to scream his lungs out until he loses his voice all over again. He bites the inside of his cheek until blood blooms on his tongue, and the taste makes him gag. 

Quickly, he pulls the water pouch he had tied to the back of the strap across his waist and takes a deep breath, removing his mask to drink a bit. It helps. 

He takes the seed pouch, pressing it between his fingers to feel the few seeds still left. He hadn’t been able to stop himself from swallowing handfuls of them at a time after the stick man had left. Now he scowled at his past self, wishing he hadn’t been so greedy in the moment. He is grateful for the strength he regained from something to eat, but he doesn’t know how long this small amount left will have to last him now. 

Spider straps the pouches to his back again, and brings his knees up to rest his chin upon them. 

An icy chill whips through the small gaps in the hut, and Spider pulls himself tighter together, like a puppet caught up in all the wrong strings.

He doesn’t know why his chest aches all of a sudden, because between these short visits from the stick man and Tonowari, everything finally makes sense. Of course Spider can’t just come home with the Sullys as if nothing happened. It was stupid of him to think that he could. Shame rushes under his skin to curl up in his gut, nauseatingly heavy and he squeezes his eyes shut at his own foolishness. Of course he was never going to be welcomed here. It all makes sense now: why the Sullys haven’t come for him, why he has been locked away here, it’s because they don’t forgive him for what he did and they don't want him anywhere near them.

That’s fine, Spider wouldn’t forgive someone like him either.

A monster.

He just wishes that it didn’t hurt so much.

Chapter Text

‘Hey, wake up.’

Spider is pulled from unconsciousness with a poke to his ribs. He tries to swat whatever it is that is poking him, but bringing his arm up makes a searing pain flash across his chest. He curls back up, but Spider suddenly feels himself being moved. Like he is surfacing from far, far, below water, his hearing comes back to someone speaking. 

‘-is my fault, I didn’t even notice this last time. You must have kept it well hidden, hm?’

It’s the stick man. He has laid Spider on his back, straightening out his limbs where he had been tightly curled before, and his joints feel stiff and locked. 

The stick man is keeping up a steady stream of chatter, which Spider appreciates because he can’t seem to see very well at the moment and it keeps Spider awake which, for a reason that slips just beyond his grasp, is a good thing.

‘Ohh yes. There it is. How did you get a wound like this in the first place, pup? It hasn’t been cleaned properly, that’s why it’s hurting you, see?’

A light pressure comes to the edge of the heat on Spider’s chest, and he gasps, the pain rocketing up his shoulders, neck, making him dizzy. 

‘Be calm, breathe,’ Stick man says. 

Spider tries, but what little sight he has starts to fade and sound gets fainter. 

‘Oh dear. Come on, stay with me.’ A hand comes to rest on Spider’s forehead, and it's cool and callused and familiar, it brings him back. 

‘I came to bring you more water, but it looks like I probably should have come sooner, hm? Well, I’m going to give you some now because I don’t know how long it’s been since you finished that other lot I gave you, or how long humans can really go without water. Sorry about that.’ There’s a pause, and Spider hears shuffling beside his ear. ‘I’ve got it here, see?’ Spider can’t see. ‘So I’m going to take this thing off your face to give you water, okay? So take a breath.’

Before Spider can coordinate his body to take a breath, the mask is pulled off and eased from his head. His lungs are empty. Immediately, panic surges in Spider, and adrenaline brings his weak body to life. Desperately, he clamps a hand over his mouth and nose, his other hand scrambling furiously to find the mask again, find his air again. His chest is spasming, screaming for breath, and tears come to his eyes at the pain. 

His hand is wrenched away from his face, and Spider can’t hold his breath any longer, he’s so tired, he can’t-

The mask is pressed back to his face, and on instinct Spider reaches for the latch to seal it. Immediately, he is gasping, the force of his breath bringing coughs that hurt as they tear up his throat. 

Desperately, Spider rolls to his hands and knees and moves away from where he was, finding comfort when he presses up against the wall. He coughs and gasps until his breath returns. His body is still full of panic, and his hands shake as he holds his mask onto his face, keeping it there. When he opens his eyes, he is at least a little bit relieved to notice that his sight has returned. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see the stick man sitting a few paces away, watching him.

‘Why the fuck did you do that?’ Spider says, but the coughing had taken the small amount of voice he had gained from the water days ago. If the swear word offended, it doesn’t show. 

The stick man smiles, but it’s not a happy smile, and Spider can’t quite place the expression on his face. It unnerves him.

‘Sorry, pup, you seemed barely conscious. I supposed you needed water.’ As if to demonstrate, he holds the water pouch out to Spider. 

Spider leans forward to take it, but it is surprisingly heavy as Spider brings it to himself. He’s calming down now, which is a bad thing because Spider knows that once the adrenaline leaves him he will fall back into that not-awake-but-not-sleeping state, full of visions that he hates and his body will stop listening to him. 

As quickly as his trembling hands can go, Spider unscrews the cap and hovers a finger over his mask latch. He takes a deep breath, another, and a third before he feels ready to take it off. He drinks fast, the water running down his chin, but he can only manage a few precious seconds before the fear becomes unmanageable and he pulls his mask back down. 

Spider takes a few seconds just to breathe. He’s aware of the stick man watching him still, but he’s fast losing the energy to care. 

‘What’s your name, child?’ 

Spider looks at the stick man, trying to find any bad intention in his posture or expression. As always, he doesn’t find any. ‘Spider.’

‘Spider.’ The English rolls awkwardly off the stick man’s tongue. ‘Is it a human name?’

Spider shrugs, finding he is too tired now to keep so curled up against the wall, and he leans against it. ‘No, but it’s what I’m called.’ He looks at the stick man expectantly.

‘My name is Ngaire,’ he says, seeming pleased that Spider somewhat asked him back. 

Spider nods. ‘I see you, Ngaire,’ he says, the words coming on autopilot as he focusses back on propping himself up against the hut wall.

‘I see you, Spider.’

Spider freezes. ‘What?’ he says, barely a breath. ‘Why did you say that?’

Ngaire frowns. ‘I was greeting you back. Have I offended you?’ 

Spider feels something swell in his chest, warm and sweet. He pushes it down, swallows it. ‘N-no, it’s-- I’m not of the people, I don’t--’ Spider struggles to find the words. Na’vi do not greet him back. That is an enduring truth and he has a thousand explanations for it, but in this moment he can’t seem to verbalise any of them. Can’t Ngaire see that Spider is human, an outsider, a demon? Spider should correct him, tell him that he shouldn’t say that sort of stuff to Spider, remind him of what everyone else knows about Spider. He doesn’t. He hates that his mouth won’t open, and he hopes Ngaire finds out on his own rather than make Spider say it all. 

When he looks again, Spider sees that same strange expression on Ngaire’s face again. ‘I see,’ he says, and Spider breathes out in relief. That warm feeling in his chest bursts, leaving him cold. That’s good, Ngaire understands that Spider is set apart from Na’vi customs, the exception.

There is a long pause, and then Ngaire speaks again. ‘That wound on your chest does not look good, Spider.’ 

Spider looks down to the gash that Neytiri had given him. He had assumed that his heart was racing this whole time, but now that he pays attention to it, he notices that it’s the wound that is throbbing. Despite his chill, the area feels warm. Curiously, he pokes at it, and the pain feels like a taser right across his torso and he gasps. 

Ngaire cringes. ‘It will make you sick if left untreated. I will go and get the Tsahik so she can cure the affliction.’

Spider thought of Mo’at and Neytiri. ‘No,’ he says, hovering a hand above his chest to try and hide it. ‘No, don’t bring the Tsahik. It’s fine, I’m fine.’

Ngaire frowns, his ears dipping, and Spider thinks for a moment that he’s angry. ‘I will admit that I do not know much about humans,’ he says. ‘But I will repeat that I am no fool. You smell of infection, and your lethargy when I arrived is worse than when we first met.’ He pauses, and the frown eases slightly. ‘Why do you refuse treatment?’

Spider tries to think of a reason why that won’t make him sound like a petty child. ‘The… The Tsahik don’t work with humans. I… I go to other places, normally.’

‘Does Jake Sully take you?’

Spider doesn’t flinch at that. He doesn’t .

‘Is Jake okay?’ he says, knowing Ngaire will notice the change in subject, but unable to stop himself from asking. ‘Are the Sullys okay?’

Ngaire pauses.

‘Please, just tell me if they are okay or not. You don’t have to tell me where they are or anything, just…’ Spider looks to the door, wishing more than anything that he could open it and go and find them, just to check. His body is calming from the pain in his wound, and Spider notices his head has started to swim. He doesn’t have much time before he slips under again.

‘They are fine,’ Ngaire says. 

Oh. 

Spider hadn’t noticed it until just now, but he had been unconsciously holding onto the very last hope that maybe, if the Sullys were hurt, or in danger, or otherwise not-okay, then that was why they hadn’t come for him. It would have made it worth it, it would have made it all make sense if he knew that they needed to get themselves to safety first and then they would come and get him soon after. But… they’re fine. That only leaves the explanation that Jake knows what Spider has done, and has decided to leave him here on purpose. Because he really does deserve it.

They’re okay, and Spider is relieved. He swallows his hurt, his anger, his confusion. He pushes it down, down, down until he can’t feel anymore. 

Spider lowers himself to the floor, his back to Ngaire. He curls up around the pain in his chest- it must be the infection growing- and he stops fighting the wave that pulls him under. 

Jake wakes up in the middle of the night. At first, he doesn’t know what it is that woke him, and he listens to the sounds of the night, the sound of Neytiri breathing against his chest, and the kids nearby. 

Then he hears it again: someone is crying. It's Kiri. 

Jake extracts himself from underneath Neytiri, and she asks him where he was going, still mostly asleep. 

‘I’m just checking something,’ Jake says. ‘I’ll be right back.’ He kisses her as she curls up in the warm spot he’d been lying in, and she sighs. His heart swells with love.

The night air is chilly as Jake steps out of the hut, and he follows the sound of Kiri crying towards the water. 

He finds her at the water’s edge, her limbs curled into a ball while her tail falls from the woven path into the water below where bioluminescent fish come and go.

‘Hey, babygirl,’ Jake says as he approaches.

Kiri looks up, before furiously scrubbing at her face before Jake gets too close. 

‘What are you doing here?’ Kiri asks, looking at Jake out of the corner of her eye. ‘It’s late.’

‘I heard you crying,’ Jake says. He lowers himself to sit next to her. ‘What’s going on, my love?’

‘What do you think?’

Jake sighs. That’s fair. 

‘Dad, where is Spider?’ Kiri says, her prickliness suddenly dropping to an earnestness that Kiri only held about her family. ‘You said he was going to come back to us when he was healed. We haven’t seen him in days, I’m worried something’s wrong.’

‘I don’t know,’ Jake admits. ‘Tonowari said he was taken to recover, but I’m sure that if he hasn’t found us yet that there’s a good reason.’

‘I want to go see him. I looked in the infirmary and he wasn’t there. He’s not in the communal sleeping space, or in anyone else’s home, even Rotxo doesn’t know where he is. What if something’s happened to him again?’ She puts emphasis on the last word, and Jake can sense her rising worry.

‘I’m sure he is absolutely fine, Kiri. Spider is a tough kid, and he always comes back to us eventually, right?’

Kiri shakes her head. ‘You saw him, though, when Payakan took us home?’ She turns to look at Jake now. ‘Dad, they did something to him there. He looks different in his eyes. He barely spoke to us.’ 

‘Well, yeah, he was quiet, but you’re expecting too much from him after everything that happened. He needed time to process it. We all did. He’s probably just making sense of things in his own way somewhere.’

Kiri looks into Jake’s eyes for a long moment, and then turns away, curling back up again. ‘I don’t know what sort of processing can happen all alone,’ she mumbles into her knees.

‘Sometimes humans need that alone time.’ Jake pulls Kiri into his side and rubs her shoulder. ‘He will come back soon, try not to worry, okay?’

‘What if he misses Neteyam’s ceremony, though?’

Jake pauses. He hadn’t considered Spider as an invited member to Neteyam’s funeral, but now that Kiri makes it sound like he was an automatic guest, Jake feels a bit guilty about his oversight. That is something he is going to have to broach with Neytiri, and he isn’t sure how she’d feel about it. Still, it’s hard to think of Neteyam without also conjuring images of Spider alongside him, and how they came to call each other by colloquialisms for brother . To say goodbye to Neteyam without Spider there suddenly seems cruel to Spider, who had grown up right beside Neteyam and his family.

‘I’ll go look for him tomorrow,’ Jake promises. ‘Tonowari will know where he is, and we can go see where he’s at, okay?’

‘Okay,’ Kiri says. She is quiet for a while, but then Jake hears her start crying softly again. 

He sits there with her, rubbing her arm and listening to her fall in and out of tears. Every now and then his own pain would rise up to meet hers, and Jake would force himself to breathe through it, to ease it away, to focus back on Kiri, and eventually it would go. It would come again, and Jake would push it back again. Jake hopes that he can keep this fight up forever, because he doesn’t know what he’d do if it overcame him.

At some point, the sun starts to rise. 

‘C’mon babygirl, let’s get back, okay?’ Jake says, knowing that the sunlight will dull her pain, and also that he is suddenly exhausted. He quietly mourns the sleep he lost on their way back to the hut, but he is glad to have found Kiri when he did, rather than leave her out there all night alone.

When they return to the hut, the rest of the family is still asleep. He sets Kiri down next to Neytiri, giving her a kiss as she settles, and then lays himself down on Neytiri’s other side, his previous spot long gone cold. 

It feels like he’s barely closed his eyes before he hears someone urgently approaching from the village.

‘Jake?’ Tsireya swings into the hut, her chest heaving with heavy breaths from her run to find him. 

‘Yeah?’ Jake says, his voice croaky from sleep. The sun had risen properly into early morning, and Jake noticed that the rest of his family had gotten up without him.

Tsireya clings to the structure of the hut, suddenly shy. ‘I am sorry to wake you, but…’

‘What? What is it?’ Jake is suddenly alert from the worried expression on her face. 

'It’s Lo’ak,’ she says, her voice soft. 

Jake is off of his sleeping mat in a heartbeat, and she leads him through the village towards where fruit tree groves sprawl out in the cool shade at the bottom of a cliff face. 

Jake hears it before they reach it: Lo’ak’s fighting again. The sound of flesh hitting flesh and Lo’ak’s furious voice disturbing the otherwise tranquil scene. Jake has to push himself through a crowd that has collected, Metkayina whose daily task was to harvest fruit standing with baskets half empty to watch the spectacle. 

‘Hey-- hey.’ Jake reaches the centre of the crowd, finding Lo’ak kneeling above a Metkayina boy much older than him, reeling back his fist for another blow to the boy’s face. Jake manages to lunge forward and catch Lo’ak’s arm, wrapping Lo’ak in a hold around his waist and hauling him away from the Metkayina boy. 

Lo’ak kicks and twists in Jake’s arms. ‘Let me go, damn it, I had him!’ 

‘Nu-uh, you’re done here,’ Jake hisses into Lo’ak’s ear. Jake puts Lo’ak down and grabs him by the queue at the back of his neck, turning briefly to apologise to the boy and to the crowd, before striding away fast enough to keep Lo’ak stumbling beside him.

Jake is aware of Tsireya keeping up with them a few paces behind, but he can’t bring himself to care over the laser focussed anger he feels in his chest. Jake manages to keep a lid on it until they get back to their hut, throwing Lo’ak to the ground and startling Neytiri and Kiri from their breakfast preparation. 

‘What the hell has gotten into you?’ Jake says, trying his best not to shout. Judging by how Lo’ak’s ears flatten, he must have shouted anyway. ‘Fighting, again. Really?’

Lo’ak turns his face to the floor, scowling. His tail lashes with irritation, and Jake has half a mind to string Lo’ak up by it to ring his head like a bell. 

‘Lo’ak,’ Neytiri starts, coming closer to him, disappointment all over her face. ‘You said you wouldn’t fight anymore.’

‘What happened.’ Jake says it like a command, not like a question. 

Lo’ak stays silent, his jaw clenching as he avoids Jake’s gaze.

‘There were other boys,’ Jake turns to Tsireya where she stands at the entrance to the hut. ‘I did not see the whole conversation, but… I think they said something bad about Neteyam to Lo’ak and…’ She doesn’t finish, but she doesn’t have to. 

Turning away from them all, Jake sighs deeply and raises his palms to press into his eyes, rubbing until he sees stars. Jake raises his hands to rake his fingers through his hair, and wills the anger away, wills the disappointment down, down, down, and locks it all away. He’s just tired, he needs to get a grip.

‘Okay,’ he says, breathing the word out like he’s blowing gently on lacklustre embers of a fire he desperately wants to keep alive. ‘Alright. Lo’ak, c’mere bud. Let’s go for a walk.’ Jake reaches a hand out to help Lo’ak from the floor. 

Lo’ak pushes Jake’s hand aside and gets up on his own, but Jake takes Lo’ak’s wrist anyway. Tsireya lets them pass as they leave the hut, and Jake walks Lo’ak away from the village, down to one of the beaches where the fishermen are leaving the waters to recover for this season, and the quietness helps Jake clear his head. 

Jake brings them to stop at the water’s edge, and pulls Lo’ak down to sit beside him. He feels Lo’ak tug at his arm, but Jake keeps ahold of it. He raises it to look closely at where Lo’ak has blood across his knuckles, finding where Lo’ak has split his skin and bruises in three-fingered shapes around his wrist. 

Jake lowers Lo’ak’s hand to the water, leaning in to slowly and gently wash away the dirt. He rubs the blood off slowly, seeing the water turn brown for a moment. He hears Lo’ak hiss quietly at the sting of the salt water, but he does not otherwise resist as Jake takes the other hand from his lap to do the same on that one. Satisfied, Jake lets go of Lo’ak’s hands. 

Lo’ak brings his knees up and wraps his arms around them, staring at the horizon. Jake can hear him trying to keep his breathing even, but Jake notices Lo’ak’s flicking tail on the sand betraying Lo’ak’s agitation. 

The sound of the waves over the sand dulls the chatter of the village. A bird lands beside them, peering curiously at the pair as though checking whether they were going to die anytime soon and therefore make a tasty meal in a few days. The bird flies away after a moment, catching a draft from the ocean and soaring up to the top of the cliff. The wind makes a pleasant breeze under the hot sun, and Jake appreciates it.

‘They didn’t just insult Neteyam,’ Lo’ak says. ‘They insulted you, too.’

Jake doesn’t say anything. 

‘It’s just… why do we have to bury him here ?’ Lo’ak’s voice breaks on the last word, and he quickly swipes at his cheek.

Jake has to squeeze his own wrist where it hangs between his knees to keep from pulling Lo’ak into him and silencing him with hushes and reassurances. It hurts, but Jake bears it. 

‘I know you said we can’t go back home, but Neteyam deserves to be there. Not here, where the people don’t know us, where his name won’t be remembered after we leave.’ Lo’ak swallows, and he scrubs his wrist over his eyes. 

Jake closes his eyes. He bears it. 

‘Dad,’ Lo’ak says, and his voice is wet with tears now. ‘Why did he have to go?’ 

Jake sighs, his heart breaking and breaking. He pulls Lo’ak to his side, placing a kiss on his temple. ‘Oh, my boy,’ Jake says against Lo’ak’s skin. ‘I’m so sorry.’ 

Lo’ak collapses against Jake, still putting up a valiant effort against the sobs that make his body tremble in Jake’s arms. 

‘It’s alright, son,’ Jake says, tucking Lo’ak’s head beneath his chin. ‘Let it out. Just let it out.’

Lo’ak takes the strap across Jake’s chest into his fist, and the sound of his cries twists a knife through Jake’s heart. He unties Lo’ak’s hair and cards his fingers through it while he holds Lo’ak tightly, he hushes him and rocks them both, but none of it seems to stop Lo’ak’s tears. 

Jake cannot remember the last time Lo’ak cried like this, and Jake gets a sinking feeling that Lo’ak might be taking after him in all the worst ways. 

Slowly, slowly, Lo’ak begins to calm, and his cries turn to hiccups. He swallows them down, rubbing at his face as he pulls away from Jake. Jake holds him there for one moment more, gently pressing one more kiss to the top of Lo’ak’s head, before he lets him go. 

Jake looks at the receding water’s edge while Lo’ak collects himself.

‘Okay,’ Lo’ak says. ‘I’m okay, now. Sorry.’

Jake looks at him. A thousand things he wants to say to Lo’ak in that moment, and all of them too much, too heavy, too raw for the fragile vulnerability Lo’ak is desperately trying to bury in front of him. He doesn’t say anything. Instead, he tilts his head, and they head back to the hut together. 

Jake feels wrung out, like his conversation with Lo’ak had drained him of all his reserve energy. When they enter the hut, Jake finds himself making a beeline for his sleeping mat and collapsing onto it face first. 

‘Ey, this man,’ Neytiri teases, swatting Jake’s thigh from where she sits. ‘He does one thing and thinks the day is over.’ 

Jake groans into the crook of his elbow. Kiri chuckles, and Jake hears Neytiri talk quietly to Lo’ak, asking if he is okay. He shrugs her off, saying he’s fine, and Jake can almost hear the glare that she gives Lo’ak in response. Lo’ak lies down beside Jake, close but not touching, and Jake falls fast and hard into a dreamless sleep. 

Jake is awoken for breakfast, but fatigue weighs on him so heavily that he doesn’t eat much. Instead, he gives the rest of his portion to Lo’ak, who gives Jake a thankful nod and finishes it quickly, despite Tuk’s complaining that she would have liked some too.

‘Sorry, Tuk. I’ll save some for you next time,’ Jake says, tucking Tuk’s braids behind her ear. 

They spend the morning in the hut together. Yesterday had been a busy day of preparing for Neteyam’s ceremony which is ready to take place tomorrow at Eclipse. It had been hard on all of them, but it Jake also felt the healing that had come from the work they did together: making the next piece of the songchord together, weaving the binds for Neteyam to be received by Eywa, trading stories and speaking to Neteyam as Ronal prepared his spirit for passing. Ronal and Tonowari had been with them the whole day, and Jake wishes he could express all the gratitude he feels for them. Their patience for the Sullys' unfamiliarity with their customs was endless, and Neteyam was given respect as a warrior by all the Metkayina. 

Jake had felt a tight knot loosen in his chest bit by bit as they had worked, and today felt like a deserved rest for his family before they say goodbye tomorrow. It will be hard, but it will also be good. Jake also hopes that Lo'ak will come to appreciate it in time, but it seems that he is not quite ready yet. That's okay.

‘Will you come swimming with me today, Dad?’ Tuk asks, taking his hand in both of hers. They had just had lunch, and Tuk had been getting restless. ‘ Pleease? Lo’ak and Kiri are being boring and I really want to go out in the reef again.’

‘I don’t know, Tuk,’ Jake says. ‘I’m not as good a swimmer as you kids are. I won’t be able to keep up.’ He looks to Neytiri for help, but she rolls her eyes at his attempt and starts to clear away the plates, smiling. 

‘Ma Jake, you should spend some time with your daughter.’

‘Neytiri--’

‘See, Dad?’ Tuk says, jumping to her feet and pulling on his arm. ‘Come on, just for a bit!’

She gives Jake her very best pleading face, and his resolve melts away. ‘All right, fine. Just for a bit.’

Tuk cheers and dances while Jake stands and says goodbye to the others. 

‘Dad, don’t forget to ask about Spider,’ Kiri says as he leaves.

Jake feels a little bit of guilt that he had already forgotten about their conversation last night. He promises he will do that, and follows Tuk down to the water. 

When they get to the shore, Tuk is quick to rush ahead and dive right in. Jake is surprised to find that he hesitates when he gets to the water’s edge. The weather is beautiful and the fishermen have already gone out for the day, leaving the docks and paths clear and quiet. Still, looking down into the shimmering surface, Jake finds apprehension squeezing him, making him lock up when he tries to approach it.

‘Dad,’ Tuk whines. ‘You said you would swim with me, not just watch me.’ She paddles nearby, easily keeping herself afloat and twirling in the water.

‘I’m coming,’ Jake says, and forces his feet to move. He jumps into the water and the bracing cold of it immediately sends his heart slamming against his ribs. He squeezes his eyes shut, and the endless, dark, crushing water fills his body with ice. The feeling of hopelessness yanks at him, because he is too weak to save himself, and the SeaDragon would never, ever let him go-

Jake bursts from the water, gasping and trying to keep his eyes open. The cold water around him is frightening, and he fights to keep his face above the surface. 

He notices Tuk calling for him, and she’s suddenly in front of him.

‘Dad? Dad, what’s wrong?’

‘Nothing,’ Jake says automatically. He’s trying to catch his breath and, thank Eywa, his feet find some purchase on sand below him so he can stand. ‘Nothing, I’m fine.’

‘You look scared, did something bite you?’ Tuk asks, and she swims towards him. 

Jake steps back and Tuk stops, looking confused, and Jake feels guilty for pulling away from her. ‘No, I just- the water is cold. It just surprised me. I’m fine.’

‘Promise?’

‘Promise.’ He tries to believe it, but his body has started to tremble and it isn’t from the cold. He hopes Tuk can’t tell from where he stands, but fortunately she seems to take his word. 

Tuk leads them away from the shore, and Jake pushes himself to keep up with her. His body seizes a few more times as they go, and Jake plays it off as being out of breath as he waits for the terror that fills his limbs with lead to pass again. Every time his head dips below water, he is back in the sinking ship, drowning alone in the dark and dragging his youngest son down with him, killing his family one by one because he is too weak-

Jake tells Tuk that he’ll be lookout while she explores the reef, and she can bring him what she finds. She complains at him, but finally relents. 

Tuk dives for minutes at a time, and Jake forces himself to endure every second. He knows there’s something wrong with him, that this is another thing he can feel settling into the part of himself that feels rock-hard and siering like a tumour, something once named by a psychiatrist on Earth as PTSD. Things like body memory and flashback bounce in his head, and Jake thinks he’s doing a pretty good job of trying to fight it off, keeping his eyes open, keeping from holding himself like a child, and coping. That is, until both hit him at once.

He sees Tuk coming back up to the surface, when that terror hits him again much, much harder. His body freezes and for just a moment, his face dips below the surface. It’s enough. Jake is pulled into the feeling of drowning, the memory of Quaritch’s furious desperation to kill him, fire burning over the water, the sound of tons and tons of ship closing in around him. Jake struggles, but the water holds on even tighter. 

Tuk is signing something at him, she’s so close to him, but he can’t understand what she’s saying. Jake tries to swim, tries to get back to the surface, but he’s so scared and his heart is hammering against his chest, and he wants to snap out of it, tries to force it away, but the more he fights, the more he sinks. He pushes away from Tuk, trying to keep her from this fear, but he loses some breath as he twists in the water. 

Tuk takes his hand and guides it to the hold of an ilu, and Jake grabs it with all his strength. His chest is screaming for air- spasming painfully- he can't hold on much longer- and a moment later the ilu is pulling him up to the surface. As soon as his face breaks, Jake is gasping in lungfuls of air, and he pulls himself onto the ilu, collapsing against it. He's trembling so hard he almost can't hold on to it, and locks his arms around its neck.

Tuk must be connected to the ilu, because it starts moving again, swimming him and Tuk back to the shore. Jake focusses on coming down from the fear, on shaking the numbness from his fingers, and just breathes. It doesn't leave: the terror and the dread and the feeling of being too weak cling too him like tar, soaking into his muscles down to his bones and he can't get it out, he can't-

The ilu lands them on a beach, and Jake jumps off of it, striding away from the water quickly until he is well out of its reach. He rubs his palms over his face, breathing deeply and feeling the sand beneath his feet. The wind cools the water on his skin, and he presses his hands into his eyes.

'Come on,' he says to himself, frustration joining the cacophony of fear and warming him from the inside. 'Come on, come on.'  He hugs himself, rubbing at his arms until his skin starts to burn. It helps, just a little.

‘Dad?’ Tuk says, and Jake can hear in her voice that she’s holding back her tears. He turns around, and finds that she has followed him onto the beach. She’s standing a few paces away, playing with her fingers nervously as she watches him, her tail swishing behind her and her face a tiny mirror of his own fear. 

‘Tuk,’ Jake breathes, and he opens his arms, coming down to his knees to catch her when she runs to him. ‘I’m sorry, babygirl. I’m so sorry.’

Tuk cries into his shoulder. To his horror, Jake’s next breath in catches hard, and tears come to his eyes. He looks to the sky, breathing slowly to keep it away, and holds Tuk tighter. Don’t cry yet. Not right now. 

‘That was so scary,’ Tuk wails.

‘I know, I know honey. But you did so well. You did everything right. It’s alright now, we’re alright.’ Jake kisses the side of her face, and rubs his hands up and down her back. He wants nothing more in this moment to erase the last half an hour, to take this event and pluck it out of Tuk’s memory so it can’t upset her anymore. He wishes he had been stronger so he could have kept this from her. His guilt and humiliation twist in his heart so painfully he almost weeps right there. 

‘I’m sorry, Dad,’ Tuk says, her words broken by her sobs. ‘I didn’t mean to. I didn’t know.’

‘No, no no no, don’t apologise,’ Jake says, rocking her from side to side. ‘It’s nobody’s fault, okay?' He pulls away from her, and she starts to scrub at her tears with the back of her hand. 'Alright, Tuk. It's alright, now.' Jake pulls her hands away, brushing away her tears with his thumb. Her tiny face crumples, and she pushes herself back into his chest. Jake feels the knife in his heart twist again, and he tries to swallow the painful lump in his throat. 'Come, let’s go home for a bit.’ Jake lifts Tuk in his arms, and she cries the whole way back to the tent.

On their way, they come upon Tonowari who seems to be having an urgent conversation with a Metkayina man that Jake doesn’t immediately recognise. Jake can’t hear what is said from here, but the man seems upset, or angry, and is gesturing aggressively at Tonowari, who remains unreadable. Tonowari’s eyes find Jake’s and spots Tuk on his shoulder. Tonowari takes the man by the arm and pulls him away, and Jake is grateful that the path home is clear the rest of the way.

‘Oh Tuk, what happened?’ Neytiri says as soon as she sees them approaching the hut.

Tuk calls out to Neytiri, twisting in Jake’s arm to reach for her, and Jake passes her to Neytiri. 

‘Take her, please, I need to just--’ Jake makes a vague gesture behind him and turns to go before Neytiri can protest. 

Jake tries not to rush from the village, but he finds himself powering past people, giving half hearted greetings as he moves. He leaves the huts behind, and when he’s pretty sure he’s out of eyesight of most villagers, Jake breaks into a run. He goes as hard as he can, running past the orchard and into the forest that hugs the tall mountains of the island. Jake runs until he’s exhausted, far from the village, and when his legs give out he collapses against the nearest tree. The rough bark feels sharp against his back, and he presses into it. 

And the fear claws its way back up his spine, and he lets it, because there is a Neteyam shaped hole in his family and it's his fault. Jake clenches his jaw and his face crumples pitifully, and he folds forwards over his knees under the weight of his despair because he family needs him, and his family had needed him then, and he is not strong enough for them.

And Neyetam, his baby boy, is dead. All the love, and fear, and pride he felt for Neteyam curls up in a tight and searing hot ball in his chest and it hurts. Jake looks to the sky, a gasp stuttering in his throat as his head hits the tree and he squeezes his eyes shut because- because when was the last time Jake had told Neteyam that he loved him, that he was proud of him?

The tears come before he invites them, and Jake shamefully lets them fall without brushing them away. His chest hitches, and while he can’t bring himself to really cry, he lets his body fall into exhaustion and fear without the feeling of eyes on him. He falls, and falls, and falls, and it hurts so badly that he goes minutes without being able to take a breath.

He stays for a long time. His tears eventually stop, but Jake doesn’t feel ready to stand for hours afterwards, a heaviness over his skin like a veil. Only when the sun comes close to eclipse does he force himself to his feet. He feels full of jelly, weak and pathetic as he trudges back to the village. By the time he makes it back, walking now instead of running, it is already after dark. 

Jake enters the hut in the middle of dinner, and he is greeted by his family, worried and pressing food into his hands. There's a buzzing numbness over his skin, like there's a layer of cotton balls between him and the outside world. He shrugs off their questions, and Neytiri quietens the children when she picks up that he doesn’t want to talk about it. He takes her chin and kisses her, hoping that she can read his gratefulness. He loves her. He loves his children. He wishes he was better for them. 

They are getting ready for bed, the numbness in Jake's body now a heavy exhaustion, when someone approaches their hut. At first Jake thinks it's Tsireya coming to say goodnight to Lo’ak, but the sound of the steps isn’t familiar. 

A man rounds into the hut. ‘Jake Sully?’ he says, and Jake recognises him as the one who had been talking to Tonowari earlier that day. 

‘Yes,’ Jake says, suddenly guarded. Whatever argument this man had with Tonowari, Jake does not want to get involved. ‘Can I help you?’

The man greets him politely. He is quite soft spoken, now that he’s not angry. ‘My name is Ngaire. I am sorry to come to you so late at night, but I fear the boy does not have until morning. Olo’eyktan has refused to help.’

‘Wait,’ Jake says, confused. ‘What boy? Have you lost someone?’

‘No, Jake Sully, I have come to you about Spider. Please, come with me quickly. We do not have much time.’

Chapter Text

When Ngaire opens the door to the hut, Jake immediately has to cover his mouth and nose from the stench that rushes out to greet him. It smells like death and sickness so strong it brings tears to his eyes. He curses, even though Kiri is right there with him, and he feels an urge to take several steps away. 

Kiri, however, is in like a shot, and the darkness in the hut swallows her. Jake hears her cry out Spider’s name, and suddenly cold fear rushes through him. Heart in his throat, he follows Kiri inside. His eyes have to adjust to the darkness, somehow more pitch black than the nighttime itself, but the pale lump up against the wall to the side quickly settles into the shape of Spider. Kiri is kneeling above him, shaking his shoulder as Jake comes to see. 

Spider looks awful, and for a moment Jake has to tear his eyes away from the sight, combined with the smell of death in this space, to look at Ngaire. It’s too much, and Jake feels his palms start to sweat. 

‘What… what is this?’ Jake says to Ngaire, who is staying by the door.  

‘I have been keeping watch over him,’ Ngaire says. ‘I…’ He trails off, his shoulders rising as he looks away. He doesn’t continue, but Jake sees his hands clench to fists at his side. 

‘How did he get here? He’s supposed to be recovering,’ Jake says, and Ngaire looks like he wants to answer, but he doesn’t.

Jake turns back to Spider. ‘Spider, what did you do?’ he says quietly. Even in such darkness the bruise-like circles below Spider’s eyes and the sheen of sweat across his ghostly face is so unlike the Spider Jake knows that he finds it hard to marry it in his mind as the same boy. 

Jake doesn’t even remember if he’s ever seen Spider get sick before.

Kiri calls his name again and shakes him by his arms, getting agitated when he doesn’t respond. 

‘Alright, Kiri, don’t hurt him,’ Jake says softly, stilling her with a hand to her arm.

Then, Spider opens his eyes. They’re glassy and swimming as he tries to focus on Kiri’s face above him. ‘Kiri…?’ he says. It’s barely a whisper, barely a sound at all, and it seems painful for him to speak. 

‘Hey, Monkey Boy,’ Kiri says, forcing a smile onto her face even as her voice wobbles as though she is about to cry. 

Spider frowns, a small crease between his eyebrows and he blinks a few times. 

‘What is it?’ Kiri says, ghosting her hands over his face and shoulders. ‘What’s wrong, Spider?’

Jake leans in beside Kiri, ready to ask Spider how he managed to escape to this hut in this state, but the look on Spider’s face makes him pause. 

Spider seems to clock Jake, and the frown deepens. ‘I… hate this one.’ Spider’s fingers twitch, as though he is trying to move but can’t.

‘Which one, Spider? This what?’ Kiri presses. ‘It’s alright now, we’re with you.’

Spider flinches weakly, and his face turns away. ‘The one where I think you’re actually here,’ he breathes. He closes his eyes, and his throat bobs as he swallows. ‘This one hurts the most.’

Jake feels something curl in his gut, uncomfortable and heavy. ‘He thinks he’s hallucinating,’ Jake says, and as the words leave his mouth they suggest something that Jake would rather not consider. Still, when Spider turns himself away, trying not to see them anymore, Jake pictures Spider lying here and enduring repeated visions of his rescue, only to surface to lucidity alone again. 

How many times had Spider lived this moment, and awoken again in this empty hut? How long has he been here?

‘Okay,’ Jake says, not sure why he’s speaking at all other than to try and stop thinking about what’s right in front of him. ‘Okay, we’re getting him out of here.’ 

‘Be careful of his chest,’ Ngaire says, and Jake is struck by the softness in his voice. ‘It is giving him a lot of pain.’

Jake looks, and suddenly the smell makes sense. It's the cut Neytiri had given him, tracing a line over his skin that is bright red and the wound itself, festering with infection, makes Jake's stomach turn.

‘Okay,’ Jake says again. He slips his arms beneath Spider's shoulders and knees. He weighs almost nothing to lift, and concern makes Jake frown, something squeezing in his chest. 

Spider makes a pained noise as he’s jostled, and his eyes seem to lose their focus. By the time he’s settled against Jake’s chest, he seems to already be unconscious again. Spider's skin is scalding hot against Jake's, and his breaths come in short, weak gasps that cloud up the visor of his mask. He's boneless in Jake's arms, and Jake makes sure to prop Spider's head up against his shoulder so he doesnt pull on his wound. Up close, Spider looks even worse, and Jake's heart twists with pity. He hurries with Kiri and Ngaire back to the hut, Spider curled in his arms as Jake tries to shield him from the cold night air.

It’s late by the time they all return, the rest of the village has gone to sleep, bar those taking night watch shifts (a result of the lingering anxiety that still hummed amongst the Metkayina since the battle). No one stops them, and Jake is grateful for it. 

Entering the hut, Lo’ak and Tuk stand, their tails swishing anxiously as they approach.

‘Dad, is he okay?’ Lo’ak asks, trying to get a look at Spider in the dim lighting. 

‘Ma Jake, why have you brought him here?’ Neytiri says from where she sits at the cooking fire. ‘It will bring bad favour for us to keep him, the people of Awa’atlu have learnt a hatred of sky people.’ There is a moment where Jake thinks Neytiri would end her sentence with, ‘... just like the Omatakiya,’ but she doesn’t.

Kiri had rushed in just behind Jake, and was just finishing setting up a sleeping mat for Spider near their own cluster of mats. Jake lies Spider down as gently as he can. 

The hiss of Spider’s respirator is louder than Spider’s own breaths, and Jake notices the shallowness of his breathing as he settles beside Spider. 

Ngaire hovers at the door. ‘You will… treat him?’ 

Jake looks back at the wound on Spider’s chest. His time with the military had made infection an old acquaintance, and Jake can see that this didn’t start a couple of hours ago; it was at least a few days set in. It must have been causing Spider pain long before the fever took him under. 

Jake remembers the look on Spider’s face when Neytiri had held him at blade point on the ship. Neytiri had been wild with grief, and she had cut him without remorse. Still, Spider had been looking right at Quaritch, pleading with him to let Kiri go. Through all of that, Spider had been focussed on keeping Kiri safe. 

Spider had been the one pulling Neteyam from the water. Spider had been the one leaping from the shore to lead Jake to the girls. Spider had been captured by the RDA while Jake’s family got away.

Spider also helped Quaritch hunt Jake’s family down again.

Looking at Spider, his brow creased and shadows dancing across his face from the fire, Jake finds that at some point he had stopped recognising the toddler that had scrapped with his children in the forest. This is someone else in front of him, a boy growing into a man that Jake doesn’t know nearly as well as he thought he did. 

Jake presses a hand to Spider’s chest. The heat is unhealthy under Jake’s palm, and Spider’s heart is beating hard against his sternum. Spider is fighting for all he's worth, just as he always has. That, at least, is something Jake knows. 

‘Yeah, we’ll get you all better, bud,’ Jake says. 

Neytiri protests behind him. He gives her an imploring look, hoping that this time she will side with him. 

She stares him down.

‘Mom, please,’ Kiri says, stepping between them. ‘Spider’s really sick, he needs us.’ 

Neytiri is quiet for a long time. Finally she relents. ‘He can stay until he is well enough to go back to Norm and Max. He does not belong here.’ 

It’s enough of an assent, for now.

Neytiri begins to work on a topical disinfectant she had learnt from Mo’at. She chops at the herbs roughly and Jake lets her stew as he turns back to Spider. 

‘Tuk, can you go wet this, please? We’re going to try and bring his temperature down,’ Jake says, handing Tuk a cloth. When Tuk runs from the hut, Jake notices that Ngaire has gone from the doorway.

He sends Kiri to get drinking water, and in the meantime he teaches Lo’ak how to feel for Spider’s pulse in his wrist. 

‘A human heart should be beating like this,’ Jake says, tapping slowly on Lo’ak’s palm. ‘If it changes a lot from that, you let me know, okay?’ 

Lo’ak nods, but doesn’t say anything.

Jake himself settles beside Spider’s head. ‘Hey, Spider, can you hear me?’ Jake isn’t too hopeful that Spider will wake immediately, but when Spider doesn’t respond, he feels worry bloom anyway. Gently, Jake taps on Spider’s mask with the back of his knuckles. Spider’s frown deepens for a moment, but he does not wake. ‘Okay, the hard way it is,’ Jake says. 

Rummaging through his bag, Jake finds the IV fluid and tubing that Norm and Max had left with him after Kiri's seizure. There is only one sterile tube left, and Jake hesitates before opening it, mentally saying a short prayer to Eywa that Kiri won’t need it until after they can get more. 

‘Dad, are you sure you know what you’re doing?’ Lo’ak asks, eyeing the needle in Jake’s hand. 

Jake has never trained in nursing, but he had seen this done enough times he felt fairly confident in giving it a go. Besides… ‘It’s too risky to try and get Spider to drink anything while he’s unconscious, but he needs fluids. If I can get this to work, it will help him recover.’ 

Considering this, Jake feels pretty proud of himself when the IV finds Spider’s vein and the fluid enters with no air bubbles. He gives Lo’ak a wink. ‘Who knows what they’re doing now, eh?’

Lo’ak frowns at him. ‘Dad, be serious. Spider is… he’s dying.’ 

Jake pauses. Lo’ak had been quiet since he brought Spider back and Jake had assumed it to be because of worry for Spider’s wellbeing. Now, Jake realises that it’s more than that: Lo’ak thinks he’s losing Spider, and he’s scared. 

‘We won’t let him die, okay?’ Jake says.

Lo’ak just shakes his head, and focusses back on Spider’s pulse. 

Before Jake can say anything else, the girls return with the cloth and water. 

Neytiri brings the disinfectant and she makes short work of applying it to the cut and surrounding area. ‘I am going to bed,’ she announces as soon as she is finished, and Jake doesn’t have the heart to stop her. 

The IV hanging from a beam near Spider’s head, a wet cloth on his forehead and drinking water nearby for if he wakes, Jake declares that they have probably done all they can do for Spider right now. 

‘He’s skinny,’ Tuk mumbles, pressing into Jake’s side. 

‘I know,’ Jake says. Spider has seriously lost weight since he’d seen him last on the shore. Tonowari had said that he would take Spider to recover. Looking at him now, it is hard to believe that Spider could get into this condition if he was being cared for by someone. So why was he in that hut that smelled of death?

There must be an explanation. Tonowari wouldn’t… Tonowari does not torture people. He wouldn’t torture a child, even if Spider is human. 

Would he?

Spider wakes slowly, and it feels like he’s fighting his way through syrup to the surface. The first thing he notices is that he is hurting. It takes a while for him to figure out what is hurting, but eventually realises it’s because it could pretty much be all of him. His stomach pangs angrily at him, and he vaguely wonders if there’s perhaps one more seed left in his pouch. His head pounds in time with his heart beat, painful enough that Spider gets the alarming thought of taking his mask off to relieve some of the pressure on his face. 

His chest feels raw and hot, and it sort of itches in a painful way. Spider puts his hand to it, and feels something pasty beneath his fingers.

His sight comes at the same time as his hearing, and Spider immediately throws his arm over his face to try and block the light. It’s so bright that it makes him dizzy and Spider thinks he makes a pathetic sound about it, or he would if he had his voice. Great, it’s gone again. 

Spider hears the water, and he notices that he can  also hear people talking nearby, and the chirps of Ilu, and something feels very, very strange as Spider tries to remove his arm slowly to get used to the light. 

It’s light. 

Spider throws himself into a sitting position, the movement so fast it makes him gasp as his head spins. He doesn’t let himself recover because- because-

He opens his eyes. This is not his hut. 

He’s--

He’s out? Spider squints into the light, his head starting to ache, and sees the walkway and water beyond it. At first, his disorientation renders everything unfamiliar until he can’t look at the blinding sunlight any more and turns to look further into the hut. He spots something he definitely recognises: Neytiri’s bow. It’s broken and lopsided on the stand she has set it on, and Spider finds himself frowning. She must be devastated that it’s broken, it was one of her most loved items in the entire world. 

Spider misses his own bow.

There, beside it is Jake’s bag and the box beneath it concealing his gun and ammunition, across the hut is Lo’ak’s knife and the cooking utensils Spider knows so well. 

Spider looks around the rest of the hut, a strange feeling of detachment growing as he does so, as though he is watching a movie of his perspective, and not sitting here himself. It must be, Spider thinks, because he’s not actually here. This must be a dream of some sort, or perhaps the fever got the best of him and he is dying, his desperate mind kicking up a storm of comfort to soothe what must be a fairly traumatic end. 

Spider lies himself back down, trying to feel in his body if anything painful was happening to him in the real world, but apart from his chest, nothing comes through. 

Spider always thought he was going to die falling from a great height, or his mask failing somehow and suffocating before he could replace it. This was… well, not entirely unexpected either. He had always known Neytiri didn’t like him, but Spider had always seen her kindness beneath her fierceness and assumed she wouldn’t raise a weapon towards him unless he’d done something really wrong.

Though… Spider supposes that he’s done more than enough wrong. If Jake had known what Spider had done before the battle, then Neytiri would definitely have known too. In the moment, Spider had hoped and hoped that Quaritch would let Kiri go, and could see that Neytiri was using him to try and get to the same ends. Spider knew that trading him for Kiri wasn’t going to work, though. Quaritch even said that Spider was nothing to him, which was… it was fine. Spider knew this, had known this from the start when Quaritch made the same point to him when he’d first been captured. Spider was nothing to Quaritch, not at all related to this Quaritch. Still, Spider had thought for a moment, that they might have been-

Spider stops the train of thought. The point is, Quaritch had let Kiri go, and Neytiri had given Spider a warning shot. He doesn’t think she intended for it to kill him, it is just a cut, but Spider feels it a little fitting that Neytiri be the one to deliver him his death after all the harm he’d done. 16 years isn’t as long as Spider had hoped, but he is at least relieved to find that a sense of calm stays with him as he thinks that perhaps it's long enough. If he dies now, he will never have to face the consequences of his decisions, and cowardly that may be, Spider feels relief that he could slip away and anyone who feels a debt to his fortune can take payment in his end. 

Exhaustion washes over Spider and he feels his eyelids start to weigh heavily. Distantly, Spider wonders if he’s supposed to feel so much pain and tiredness when he’s dying, but he fades before an answer comes to him.

Today is Neteyam’s funeral

While the others had gone off for their preparations after bathing, Jake had excused himself to go back to the hut to check on Spider (promising to the kids that, yes, he would come to get them immediately if Spider was awake). 

Spider hadn’t so much as stirred all night, and when they had all risen in the morning, Spider’s condition hadn’t seemed to change much. Jake tries not to let it show to the kids, but he is worried. Constitutionally, Spider is, in Jake’s mind, comparable to an insect that refuses to curl up and die when thwacked with something sturdy. Jake had once, when Spider had been around 9 or 10, seen him twist his elbow in a vine-swinging stunt gone wrong and other than an initial yelp as the twist happened, go on as though it hadn’t even happened. By comparison, Lo’ak at the same age would have wailed until purple in the face at the first hint of injury. 

The boy he had found in the hut last night was a far cry from the Spider in Jake’s memory. Spider’s frailness and bonelessness as Jake had carried him made it seem almost like Jake was facing another person altogether. And Spider still hasn’t woken up… 

Arriving at Spider’s side, Jake sees that the wet cloth had slipped from Spider’s face at some point, and Jake wonders if he had moved in his sleep. 

‘Spider?’ Jake calls softly, shaking Spider’s shoulder a little bit. 

Spider doesn’t rouse. Jake checks the IV bag, noting that it is almost empty. They don’t have any more spares, so if this isn’t enough to bring Spider back to consciousness, then Jake is going to have to figure something else, fast. 

Jake checks Spider’s wound. It’s hard to tell yet if it looks any better, the raw redness still reaches outward from the cut over Spider’s skin, and the wound itself, though scabbed over now, has spots that look to Jake dirty or strange. He wishes he knew more about treating infections.  

Jake re-wets the cloth, rubbing the sweat from around Spider’s mask and over his chest, gently over the wound before replacing it on his forehead. Jake wishes he could wipe Spider's face under the mask, recalling how much he used to love it when his mother used to do the same for Jake when he had been sick as a child. 

Spider has never had a mother to comfort him in sickness, though, and for a moment Jake sees Spider’s old resilience as a learnt self-reliance. What was the point in crying from a twisted elbow when no one was going to come to your aid? Jake saw echoes of his own child self there, his introverted twin brother getting admiration and pride from their parents, and Jake had to try increasingly intense tactics to get that same level of attention, going so far as to break his leg jumping from the roof, once. Spider had never tried to gain attention from any of the adults around him, rather preferring to slip past unnoticed to play with other children. Had Spider ever even wanted a parent, or did he just learn too quickly that he would never get one, and stopped expecting adults to care about him?

Jake takes the bowl of disinfectant that Neytiri had left beside Spider and gently applies some more over the wound, frowning when the heat of Spider’s feverish skin warms it from a paste to a gel-like substance which Jake has to clean up as it runs down Spider’s ribs and stomach. 

Just as he finishes and is about to leave, Jake senses someone approaching from the doorway. 

Ngaire greets Jake politely, placing his spear on the floor as he entered the hut. ‘How is the child?’ he asks, hesitating a few paces away. 

Jake moves aside, and Ngaire looks grateful to join him beside Spider. 

Jake shrugs. ‘I don’t think he’s getting any worse, but he hasn’t improved like I hoped.’

Ngaire nods. ‘He is tenacious, I am sure he is fighting hard.’

Jake is surprised to see fondness on Ngaire’s face as he watches Spider sleep. ‘You… know him?’ Jake would have usually thought to ask that question a bit more tactfully, but it comes out surprised.

Ngaire glances at Jake. ‘As I said, I have been watching him over the past days.’ Ngaire stops talking, and Jake would have thought it was the natural end to his sentence if not for the agitated flicking of Ngaire’s tail behind them. 

Jake waits. 

And waits. 

Finally, Ngaire speaks again. ‘He asked me to tell you that he is sorry,’ he says, even softer. 

Jake’s stomach drops. ‘He what? What are you talking about? Sorry for what?’

‘He did not specify, but I can guess from the context of our conversation that he was referring to the razing of the villages nearby; he had asked if you knew about it.’

Yes, Jake knows about that, but suddenly things aren’t adding up. ‘You said you’d been watching him, and speaking to him. But then how did he end up like this?’ Jake gestures to Spider in front of them. 

‘I do not know much about human physiology,’ Ngaire says apologetically. ‘I had simply noticed that Spider was losing strength, I thought I had done enough by bringing him some water and seeds.’

‘Water and--’ Jake turns to Ngaire, something fiercely chilling racing up his spine. ‘That’s all he has been given? Weren’t you helping him recover? What about treatment, or--’

‘Recover?’ Ngaire says, interrupting Jake in a way that seems quite out of character for him. ‘I was ordered to restrain him while mourners received their lost ones from the morgue. I am no medic.’ He gestures to the spear lying behind them.

‘What?’ Jake felt like he was falling, his heart in his throat. All this time Jake had thought Spider was being cared for, and all this time he had actually-- Spider had really been--

Ngaire must see this on Jake’s face, his ears dipping. ‘Spider is our prisoner,’ he says slowly, and Jake tries to compute this. ‘He was locked away to keep the people safe from him.’

‘You’re saying,’ Jake says, his mouth completely dry as he stares at Spider’s gaunt face, pain evident in Spider’s furrowed brow and downturned mouth. ‘You’re saying Spider has been held in a morgue for days with just water and seeds, and no medical treatment?’ The smell of death from the hut resurfaces in Jake’s mind, and he almost gags on the image of Spider, getting sicker and sicker in that place, alone. A prisoner of war, left to die. He turns to Ngaire. ‘Please tell me I have this wrong.’

Ngaire looks sad. ‘No, Jake Sully, you are right.’

‘Who ordered this?’ Jake is afraid to know the answer of this question, but something is falling into place in his mind, something horrible and heavy.

‘It was Olo’yktan,’ Ngaire says. ‘He wanted Spider kept out of sight, especially from you.’ Ngaire is suddenly panicked. ‘Please, he does not know that I have brought you to Spider, that Spider is out of containment. If Olo’eyktan discovers that I have disobeyed…’

Jake is already standing. ‘Watch Spider,’ he says, and then he is out of the hut and going towards the centre of the village.

Jake feels the fury grow as he moves, heating his core to supernova. Thoughts flee his mind, and he is left with such clear rage that Jake hardly looks at anyone else until he reaches the communal space where Tonowari has been spending his time on resuming daily life after the battle. 

Standing in the doorway, Jake spots Tonowari speaking to a small group of elders on the other side of the hut. 

Jake hesitates. Somewhere deep inside him, there’s a hope that this is all a misunderstanding, that Tonowari didn’t know, or didn’t order this, that Tonowari is still the good friend that Jake has known all this time. Jake loves Tonowari dearly, and is so grateful for his kindness. How could the same man do something so monstrous? 

Jake resolves to calm himself, and makes his way over to where Tonowari is. There must be an explanation. There has to be.

Tonowari notices Jake approaching, and turns to smile at him, welcoming him. Suddenly that smile, once a refuge of safety for him and his family, seems false, a porcelain mask obscuring something underneath.

Tonowari smiles. 

Spider has been starving and sick for days. 

Jake’s resolve shatters. He steps forward and punches him so hard that Tonowari, even having height and weight over Jake, stumbles backwards a few steps from the blow. 

There are three seconds of appalled silence in the hut. Then Jake is seized by two warriors on either side, forcing Jake down to his knees. Jake goes willingly, but his rage burns his tongue in acid. ‘How dare you?’ Jake spits. ‘I thought I could trust you.’

Tonowari has recovered, a hand pressing to where his cheek has split. He looks at Jake as though looking at a stranger. ‘Jake Sully, what has angered you, friend?’

His obliviousness is jet fuel to Jake’s fury. ‘You lie to my face and call me your friend? You said you were taking him to recover, he was weak enough already and you almost killed him.’

Confusion turns to recognition on Tonowari’s face. He sets his jaw, his eyes turning hard. ‘Jake, you know just as I the violence the demon is capable of. As Olo’eyktan I have a duty to my people--’

‘He’s a child,’ Jake hisses, he can feel his tail starting to hurt from where he is thrashing it against his captors and the floor. ‘I told you that he wasn’t raised with the sky people, he would never turn against the Na’vi.’

‘And yet he did,’ Tonowari says evenly. ‘He confirmed it to me himself.’

Jake doesn’t let it deter him. ‘How could you do this?’

Tonowari sighs, and lowers himself to one knee in front of Jake to look at him at eye level. ‘Jake, I don’t know why you are antagonising me like this. You know that I do everything with you and the rest of my village in my heart. That boy is a threat. I did not mean to cause you distress, my brother, but you must understand why I have to act to keep everybody safe.’ Tonowari is looking at Jake pleadingly, begging him to understand. He can’t. ‘Where is the boy now, if you have found him?’

‘He is with me and my family,’ Jake says through gritted teeth.

Tonowari nods at the guards that have been standing back until now, and they turn to make their way towards the door. Jake realises his mistake. ‘No, no, wait! He stays with me.’ Jake twists to try and get out of his restraint, to catch the guards before they take Spider away again. They hold fast, and Jake looks at Tonowari, challenging. ‘You won’t lock him away. He stays with me and my family. I will watch him and take full responsibility for his actions, but Spider stays with me.’

‘Jake…’ Tonowari sighs.

‘I will fight,’ Jake says. ‘If you take Spider from us again, we will fight you with everything we have.’ 

It’s no small threat, and Jake knows this. Tonowari and the Metkayina know how Jake’s family stayed to fight the RDA alone after the flames on the water had driven the rest away, and had returned victorious. Jake watches the conflict on Tonowari’s expression, staring him down.

Finally Tonowari stands. ‘I have no desire for conflict, Jake Sully. You are still a brother to me. The boy can stay with you for now, but any indication of his treachery or violence will be on your head.’ He gestures to the men holding Jake, and they release him. 

Tonowari offers a hand to Jake to help him to his feet. Jake stands without taking it, and walks out of the hut in silence.

Having heard the fast-travelling word of disruption, the rest of the Sullys come running and congregate around Jake as he pushes through the village. 

‘We’ll talk at home,’ is all Jake can ground out in response to their waterfall of questions. 

Storming into the hut, Jake half notices that Ngaire has disappeared and Spider has been covered by a blanket. 

‘Ma Jake, what has happened?’ Neytiri insists, impatient. ‘You have threatened Tonowari, what has gotten into your dumb head?’

Jake turns to face his family, they hover anxiously at the edge of the hut. His heart sinks. 

‘Come, sit,’ he says, lowering himself cross-legged to the floor. They join him, Tuk hesitating before creeping in and pressing herself to Neytiri’s side.

He looks to them, guilt stirring in his gut as they stare expectantly back. ‘I…’ but then he stops. How on earth can he explain what he has just learnt? 

He is saved by Kiri.

‘It’s about Spider, isn’t it?’ she says, her gaze drifting to where Spider lies further in the hut. 

Jake nods, grateful for her insightfulness. ‘Spider has been… held as a prisoner of war since we returned to Awa’atlu.’ 

‘Prisoner,’ Lo’ak whispers, looking at Jake as though Jake was speaking a language he didn’t understand. He wraps a hand around his fist, squeezing. ‘Dad, what do you mean? Tonowari said--’

‘Tonowari lied.’ It feels like sawdust to say it, like Jake is the one in the wrong to even suggest it. 

‘He doesn’t lie,’ Tuk pipes up. ‘Tonowari is good, he…’ she looks up to Neytiri, to Jake, and then to Lo’ak and Kiri. ‘Right?’

‘Hush, Tuk,’ Neytiri says, and places a hand on Tuk’s head, but she is looking at Jake. ‘Jake, where is this coming from?’

‘We found him in the old morgue at the edge of the village and, well, you saw how he was. I thought he had been…’ Jake pauses, and swallows the rest of that sentence. ‘Tonowari told me he’d put Spider away because he is dangerous.’

‘Dangerous?’ Kiri repeats, her voice shrill. ‘How could he be dangerous? To whom?’ 

Jake shakes his head. ‘Spider was with Quaritch and the RDA all that time, he was with them when they hurt the Na’vi. Tonowari believes that Spider sided with them because he is human.’

‘But he’s not on their side. You told him that, right Dad?’ Kiri pushes. 

Jake looks at her, her shoulders tense in righteous anger. ‘I tried to tell him he was raised amongst the Na’vi, but…’

‘And you told him Spider would never do anything like that?’

Jake stays quiet. He wants to say yes, that he defended Spider and rejected all the indictments against him, but… 

‘Dad?’

‘Kiri, he did do those things.’

Kiri goes quiet, her shoulders dropping and her hands going slack in her lap. ‘What?’ 

‘He admitted this to Tonowari,’ Jake says. ‘People saw him there.’

‘Why?’ Kiri says.

‘I don’t know.’

‘So what now?’ Neytiri says. She has been quiet in this conversation in a way that Jake is familiar with: she’s turning the situation over in her head, and won’t share her conclusions until she is clear herself. 

‘Spider is in our care, and I am responsible for whatever he does. He’s staying with us.’

‘And about Tonowari?’

‘I don’t know,’ Jake says again. It's the truth; Jake feels as though he was standing at the edge of a razorblade, waiting to fall. On one side, Spider and his humanity, the links Spider represents to Jake’s home and history, to Neteyam and Quaritch, and on the other is Tonowari, and the safety and kinship for the future that could keep his family safe. He can’t see what is coming next, and icy cold fear crawls up his limbs at what it might mean when this dust settles. 

Jake looks at Spider, his chest rising and falling, the IV bag above him now empty, his body emaciated and weak and he’s just a child.

How could things possibly be alright again? 

When Spider surfaces again, it is to the sound of hushed voices speaking inaudibly nearby. His body is cold, but too exhausted to shiver. He thinks that perhaps this time he has finally passed onto the afterlife, the voices of other spirits he is about to meet coming to greet him.

When he opens his eyes, it is to the same ceiling of the hut he had been in before. 

That is… strange. Is he perhaps supposed to go and find the afterlife somewhere?

The voices quieten, and Spider tries to force himself to move. He tries to lift his hand, but in doing so it makes lightning flash over his chest and he can’t stop the gasp at the sudden pain.

‘Spider?’ someone calls. Ah, that’s good. Someone can come and show him what he’s supposed to do. 

Suddenly, his vision is full of blue. He tries to focus on the faces, and notices that--- 

Wait. These are the Sullys. Relief floods Spider: he finally gets to see them, even if it's just for this moment. He has really, really missed them. His happiness quickly drowned by his disorientation, though, and he has an urgent sense that he's missing something.

‘What?’ Spider says, but his throat is sand paper to his voice, shredding it almost to nothing. 

‘Be calm.’ That’s Jake’s voice. ‘You’re okay.’

Confusion makes Spider frown as he tries to figure this out. ‘What are you doing here?’ he asks.

‘Here? You’re in our home, Spider.’ That’s Kiri. Spider’s heart squeezes.

‘Kiri,’ he rasps, and it’s getting painful to talk. She’s looking at him like she’s worried about something, and anxiety pools in his stomach. ‘I don’t get this.’

‘Is he hallucinating again, Dad?’

‘I don’t know. Spider, do you know where you are?’

That was obvious. ‘I’m dead. I’m somewhere…’ he trails off, hoping that they can understand that he needs help finding his way. 

‘Spider… you aren’t dead,’ Jake says, and Spider’s brain does a very hard reset. 

‘What?’

Someone holds his hand.

‘See? You can feel me, right? You’re still alive, you’re fighting something hard but you haven’t given in yet.’

Alive. The warmth in Spider’s hand spreads through him, the chill easing just a bit. He’s… not dead? He looks around, the sunlight streaming into the hut suggests its near to eclipse, and the sound of the water and the birds nearby suddenly seem so loud. The sound of his respirator, even louder. 

Then he feels something else: his heart. 

Slowly, slowly, he raises his other hand to his chest, and it hurts when he presses it there but-- but-- 

A slow, steady rhythm beats under his palm. There’s heat on his skin. 

‘Oh,’ he says, and he’s surprised to feel a tear slip down his temple towards his hairline, caught by his mask. Oh.

‘Spider?’ Tuk says. 

Spider pushes himself into a sitting position, and it hurts so badly to move he loses his vision to white spots for a moment, and he feels someone put a hand to his back to help him. It stays there as he sways, and stays even when he thinks he can sit on his own.

They’re here. They’re here and he’s here which means that…

He spots something stuck into the back of his hand, and the blanket pooled at his waist. 

It means that they came for him. 

He looks at Jake, who is still holding a steady hand to his back, and Jake looks right back at him. 

Spider knows he should feel happy, that this is what he had lost himself yearning for; that he's finally out, and the Sullys are finally here. But he is not allowed to leave the hut. Spider cannot be in the village. The Sullys came for him, pulled him out, a demon, a danger-

‘How are you feeling?’ 

Spider's head is spinning, and he doesn’t think he can answer that. He shrugs, but another tear is already racing down his cheek. He pretends not to notice that he’s crying, and no one else mentions it, so it must not bother them much.

‘Here, you should drink something,’ Jake says, pressing a bowl of water into Spider’s hands. Spider is shaking so much that the water ripples inside it. He’s thirsty, but suddenly the thought of taking off his mask to drink seems too frightening. 

He can feel eyes on him, watching him, but he can’t make his hands move to take off his mask. 

Eventually, Jake sighs. ‘Alright, but you have to drink some soon,’ he says, and taks the bowl away from Spider. 

Spider has the instinct to try and snatch it back, but his mind catches up with him and stops his hands from grabbing it. He can’t drink it right now, what does he need it for? His heart doesn’t listen, thundering little bits of fear through him as Jake puts the bowl aside out of Spider’s sight.

The light is fading, and the Sullys’ spots start to glow in the twilight.

‘We need to go, Ma Jake.’

Go? Spider’s head snaps up. They’re going?

The Sullys exchange looks, anxiety written on their faces. Spider’s heart beats harder.

‘Spider,’ Jake starts, and Spider thinks he stops breathing. 

He knows what’s coming next, knows it's the fact that he is what he is and they have to do what’s right for the people but he just hoped-- he had just hoped that he could have stayed with them a little longer--

‘We-- it’s Neteyam’s funeral tonight. We want you to come.’ 

All the breath leaves Spider’s lungs in one go. Neteyam’s funeral. He looks to their faces, looking for anything that might indicate what they’re trying to say. He can’t read any of them, they stare back at him like he’s an animal they’re trying not to spook. Neytiri doesn’t look at Spider, she looks at Jake, something unhappy on her face.

Why would they want him to come to Neteyam's funeral? Lo'ak was there, he saw what happened. They must know that it was his fault.

‘I…’ Spider says, and he has to take a breath to carry on. He wishes he had the water back. ‘Can’t.’

Jake’s ears dip, and Spider knows he’s said something wrong. ‘You can, it’s okay. We can take you.’

Spider shakes his head. Jake isn’t getting it. Spider can’t go to Neteyam’s funeral. Not when Neteyam saved Spider, not when Neteyam did everything right and was so brave and Spider didn’t even have the courage to die when he should have, the monster that he is. It’s Spider’s fault that Neteyam is dead, and Spider doesn’t know if he can handle seeing Neteyam go. 

‘He’d want you there,’ Kiri says, and she puts a hand on Spider’s knee. She seems to notice how he’s trembling, and squeezes just a little. 

He wouldn’t want Spider there. None of them should want Spider there. 

Kiri’s ears go flat. ‘Please, Spider. We’re not going to leave you here alone.’

Oh. It clicks for Spider, and suddenly it all becomes clear why they are being so insistent for him to be there when he really shouldn’t. They can’t leave him alone here because they don’t trust him, because he’s dangerous. Spider finds he relaxes a bit, because that makes sense. 

He sighs, ignoring another tear on his cheek. He nods. 

Spider tries his best to walk on his own, but he’s so weak Jake has to carry him most of the way after Spider’s knees give out and he can’t stand again. 

Spider sees Neteyam curled amongst flower petals, his skin so dark next to his glowing family in the water, and Spider gets that far away feeling again, like he’s not there and his body is like a puppet with no strings. He can’t feel the water on his skin as they ride the Ilu out to the reef. He doesn’t move when they all dismount to lower Neteyam to the water, and Spider tries so hard to remember this moment, knowing somehow that it’s important, but his mind is gone… gone… gone…

Spider remembers being back in the Sullys’ hut, hearing crying, feeling his heart aching so fiercely it’s like his wound went all the way to his spine, the coldness returning, and falling asleep on his mat watching the Sullys curl up together against the opposite wall. 

Chapter Text

Pain wakes Spider from his restless sleep, his stomach cramping so severely it strangles the gasp Spider lets out as he clenches around it. His hands press into his abdomen, his whole body curling up, tense, spasming with shockwaves of pain as he tries to just breathe through it. Spider fights the feeling of needing to throw up, clamping his jaw shut so hard his ears begin to thunder. 

Minutes pass like hours, and by the time the hunger pang leaves him, his limbs fall like lead around him, exhausted. Spider bites back a groan as dizziness blooms in the wake of the receding pain, and is pleased that he manages to not make a sound as the world spins around him. He’s afraid to open his eyes, but when he eventually does it is to the sight of the Sullys curled together on their sleeping mat across the hut. It’s deep into the nighttime of the eclipse, and Spider can’t make out the individuals beyond the scattering of their soft glowing spots. They’re cuddled so close together that Spider gives up even just trying to see who is lying closest to him.

Goosebumps rise over Spider’s arms, and he ignores how cold he feels, suddenly.

For some reason, seeing the Sullys there after everything is making Spider feel as though he’s trying to swallow a rock. He’s out of that strange hut. Somehow, he got out, and that’s all that matters. That’s all that should matter.

He was just hoping that being back with the Sullys would make everything okay again, and Spider has never felt further from okay. 

Not even the animals are making any sound, and Spider finds the silence begins to press on him, the taste of fear from his dreams still lingering on his tongue, and in the darkness the images of Quaritch, of white cells, of blood creep back in. 

Don’t think about it. 

Spider pulls himself into a sitting position, and the fact that he can do this at all makes him pause, pressing a hand to his chest. Some sort of medicine sticks to his fingers, smelling like herbs, and Spider gets a horrible thought of Neytiri treating the wound she gave him. The image of her touching him right where she hurt him makes Spider feel sick all over again. 

Still, it feels better, and so he tries to be grateful. He should be grateful. 

He needs to get out of this hut. He just-- he just needs some space to breathe for a moment.

Spider gets to his feet slowly, but he barely has the strength to stand up at all and so it takes him a few tries. It’s only the need to be anywhere but here that pushes him forward. When he’s steady, he notices the bowl of drinking water that Jake had placed beside Spider’s sleeping mat. Next to that is the pouch Ngaire had given him, full of seeds again. 

Spider tries to swallow the thick lump in his throat. Ngaire had been here while Spider was asleep. Carefully, Spider picks up the pouch and straps it to his waist. Then he takes the bowl, having to press it to his stomach lest his trembling hands spill any of the precious, precious water. 

Spider takes it slowly, having to pause for rest every few steps, but he reaches the path and turns away from the village, heading to where he thinks he can see some sand beside the water. It’s so dark he can’t see where the water’s edge is, and it unnerves him to hear it rushing around him as he walks. The water is the most threatening when it’s so dark you could mistake it for oil. 

Spider feels the sand beneath his feet, and only makes it a couple more steps on the uneven ground before he has to sit down. There, the night air brushes the sweat from his skin, making him shiver as he curls around the bowl. The stars twinkle, rippling in the reflection of the water in the bowl, and Spider stares at it. He has to drink it. His body needs water and food. 

Just take off the mask. 

Spider raises his hand to the latch, but goes no further. His fingers, pressed against the release, are suddenly as still as stone, and Spider finds himself gasping for air he thinks he’s already losing. 

If Quaritch saw how pathetic he was being, he’d--

Don’t think about it. 

Spider forces a deep breath. Another. A deeper one than that, and holds it. Quickly, he pulls the latch, and the mask falls away from his face. Already, panic races up his spine and starts to squeeze at his chest, but he brings the bowl to his mouth and drinks and drinks and drinks, the water pouring down his chin as he shakes. When he can’t take it anymore, he slams the bowl down, fumbling desperately with the mask to put it back into place and when his air comes back, Spider has to press his head between his knees until he stops gasping. He coughs a few times, trying to loosen his chest. 

Pathetic.

He takes the pouch of seeds from his waist, pressing his fingers into the small weight. Ngaire had filled it right to the top. Spider should eat it. 

He tries. He does try, but he can only manage two mouthfuls before he can’t manage any more. It’s probably for the best, anyway. The last time he ate until he was full, it was days before he had eaten again. Well, until right now. So however long it’s been since he was last conscious enough to eat. 

He ties it back to his waist, making sure it’s secure. 

Spider considers going back to the hut, but dread pools in his stomach at the thought. He doesn’t understand why suddenly he is so afraid to be near the Sullys, when that was all he had been hoping for back in the morgue. 

He sits on the beach, staring into the inky darkness where he assumes the water reaches far, far away, and tries to keep his mind empty. 

It doesn’t work, though. Spider has never been able to keep his mind blank like Neteyam used to explain to him, the way they all could when riding their Ikran, or taking part in their rituals, where Eywa could enter their souls and nourish them. Spider can’t do that. He sits with his horrible, terrible mind for hours, his head starting to hurt when it brings him images of himself and Quaritch, seeing the Metkayina at his feet, begging for mercy, seeing the Tulkun slaughtered for a few ounces of useless oil. 

Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it. 

The sun returns slowly, quietly, and without fanfare. Spider celebrates the end of the night anyway. 

As the sky lightens, Spider spots a shape floating near a jetty of rocks from the beach, and for a terrified moment Spider thinks it’s a body, and he almost convulses with the fear of it. When it suddenly moves, Spider notices that it’s not Na’vi, it’s an Ilu. It thrashes in the water, the sound drowned by the crashing waves, and Spider sees it yank itself backwards only to be held fast against the rocks. 

Spider gets to his feet and approaches it, having to pull himself onto some of the rocks to get a look at what’s happened to it. 

The Ilu has its neck wrapped in some sort of cord that is trapped between the rocks, and Spider realises like a punch to the stomach that it’s the same cord used in the Tulkun hunting ships. It must have been discarded elsewhere and ended up here where the poor Ilu got stuck in it fishing for crustaceans in the rocks. 

Spider climbs closer. At first, the Ilu panics when it spots him, its thrashing becoming desperate. Spider knows he doesn’t have his stripes, that it probably feels an instinctual reaction to Spider’s presence: a human, a demon. 

‘I’m not going to hurt you,’ Spider says, trying to push his voice through the rasp that scratches in his throat. He puts out his hands, and stays still until the Ilu calms. Slowly, he inches forward. Up close, he can see that the cord was wrapped around its neck and stuck underneath its queue, where it was digging into the skin as the Ilu pulled back on it. ‘Okay, I can help you,’ Spider says, and he carefully keeps himself in the Ilu’s sight as he places his hand on its head. He leaves his hand there until it stops shaking under his palm, giving it some slow strokes. ‘See? It’s okay,’ he says. 

In the returning light, Spider can see now that the Ilu has been pulling so hard the cord has rubbed away the skin in the sensitive spot where its queue meets its head, and blood pools on its skin and pours into the water around it. Spider grimaces, and he has to blink away the images of dead Ilu floating in the water. Focus. 

‘That’s gotta be hurting you. Here, I can unhook you.’

Spider tries to help the Ilu move its head to unwrap it from the cord, but any time Spider takes its head in his hands, it starts to struggle and the cord cuts it deeper. 

‘Just-- hold on a second, I’m trying to help,’ Spider says, trying not to shout. This time, Spider tries to twist his fingers underneath the cord and pull it away from the Ilu’s skin for it to unhook itself, but Spider’s hands quickly grow slick with blood and the cord keeps slipping from his grip. Spider feels sick, his heartbeat rising into his throat. 

The tide must be going out, because the Ilu seems to have less leverage on the cord where it’s pressed between the rocks. Spider has to hurry, or else this Ilu is going to hurt itself even more. His hands are shaking now, the blood thoroughly staining his fingers. 

Desperately, Spider turns to the rocks, and plunges his hand between them to try and see if he can just yank the cord out. His hands slip over the rope, and Spider curses when he can’t even get a grip on it. The Ilu makes an alarmed sound, and flicks its head this way and that, managing to spray its blood over Spider’s mask and hair. 

He might actually throw up this time. 

His chest is heaving as he tries to regain his balance, unable to tear his eyes away from the droplets of blood running down his mask. He coughs when it feels like he can’t get enough air, and it makes him gag. He’s trying to keep his mouth clamped shut and he is about to back away from the Ilu when he hears shouting very close by. 

‘It is here!’ someone calls, and Spider is overcome with relief that maybe someone is coming to help free the Ilu. He tries to steady his breathing, tries to collect himself together again, but before he has a chance to see who’s coming he is suddenly seized by his arm and yanked to his feet. 

‘I have it!’ the Metkayina woman shouts, and Spider yelps as she squeezes his arm hard enough to bruise. She is waving her spear towards the shore, and Spider sees a group of Metkayina gathered there. She suddenly turns to him, her eyes blowing wide when she sees his mask covered in blood. 

She makes an alarmed sound and spins, searching over the rocks, and spots the Ilu trapped in the receding water. ‘You,’ she says, rounding back on Spider and towering over him. He tries to back away, but she pulls him closer with a grip that almost sends his knees buckling below him. ‘What have you done to this Ilu, demon?’

‘I-I didn’t do anything, it was already injured when I got here,’ he says, but the woman snatches at his hand, bringing it up between them as if to present the blood as his sentence. 

She hisses at him, low and threatening, and Spider freezes, his chest caving in fear. She could hurt him, badly, if she wanted to. 

She pulls on his arm and he stumbles over the rocks as she leads him back to the village. He loses his footing once and his foot falls between two boulders, one sharp corner digging into his shin. Spider cries out, but the woman pays him no mind, lifting him by his arm and marching forward regardless. 

When they approach the village, Spider notices a commotion amongst a small group of Na’vi clustered in front of one of the bigger huts. As he is pulled closer, he sees Jake and Tonowari locked in a shouting match that seems as though it’s close to getting violent. Tonowari’s face is hard, and his lip curls as Jake gets into his face, and fear grips Spider’s chest. 

Spider doesn’t get to see much more before he is thrown down in the centre of the crowd, barely able to get his hands out to catch himself in time. 

At the sight of him, the crowd suddenly quietens, and Jake and Tonowari stop shouting. Only the sound of Spider's heavy breaths and the crashing waves nearby are left.

The blanket of smoke and cotton creeps back around him, and the fourth rock doesn't hurt so badly even as it hits him right in his head. A buzzing numbness pulls at him, and Spider feels untethered all of a sudden, like a heavy waterfall pouring onto him washing him away, wondering why he had been so frightened just then. There's noise around him, but he can't... he can't quite figure out what it is.

He floats.

There's a hand on his shoulder, and Spider tries to move away, to curl further in on himself, but he's sluggish and can't curl any tighter.

There's shouting, and Spider hears Jake in it somewhere. Jake.

Like a bubble bursting, Spider careens back into himself. He jolts, and lifts his head and tries to see through the way his vision swims. Jake is crouching in front of him, talking to him urgently. Over Jake's shoulder, Spider sees Tonowari, and Spider feels that fright return hard enough that he physically flinches.

‘Come with me,’ Jake says, but he doesn’t sound angry. Why doesn’t he sound angry? Jake stands up and waits expectantly. When Spider doesn’t move, Jake lowers back down, blocking Spider’s view of Tonowari. ‘Can you stand?’ 

Spider nods, his skin feeling ice cold as he pulls himself up to standing. He staggers and Jake takes him by the arm to steady him. Spider bites his cheek to keep from crying out as Jake squeezes on what is almost certainly a bruise from the Metkayina woman's grip on him.

Jake lets go, and instead places his hand at the nape of Spider’s neck. He guides Spider through the crowd, and Spider keeps his eyes down and the Metkayina back out of the way as he passes. He can’t tell if it’s because they can’t stand to be near him, or if Jake is intimidating enough to startle them. No one says anything as they go. 

Spider thinks Jake is taking him back to the Sullys hut, but Jake stears him off the path and towards the forest behind the village. Spider’s heart begins to thunder, and he tries to keep steady on his feet even though the blood on his mask makes it hard to see and where the rock hit him on his leg makes it painful to walk. He doesn’t let himself slow down, though, afraid it will get him in more trouble.

They walk a trodden path through the forest, the morning dew on Spider’s feet making goosebumps rise on his skin. Spider hears the trickle of a brooke before he sees it, nestled into the foliage. Jake stops them beside it, and tells Spider to clean himself up. 

Spider does, stepping into the shallow water to wet his hands. He finds a stone beside the water and uses it to scrub the blood from his skin, and then rinses his mask and hair. The water is ice cold, and Spider has to clench his jaw shut to keep his teeth from chattering, deciding that he’s finished when his fingers are more blue than red. He climbs from the stream and sits down, a few paces away from where Jake has settled against a nearby tree, watching him. 

‘You look like you’re feeling better,’ is the first thing that Jake says after a long pause. 

Spider nods. 

‘And the first thing you do is run off to go cause trouble?’ 

Spider doesn’t know what to say to that. He hadn't meant to cause trouble, he had just… he had just needed space. Spider looks to the stream beside him. ‘I’m sorry,’ he says. 

‘Did you really hurt the Ilu?’

‘No.’

‘So why did she say that you did?’

Spider shrugs. ‘Who cares?’ 

‘What do you mean who cares? You--’

‘I didn’t hurt it, I didn’t do anything wrong, but they think I did, so who cares if I did or didn’t.’ 

Jake waits a long time, and Spider thinks that maybe he’s pissed Jake off. When Jake speaks, though, it doesn’t sound angry at all, and it confuses Spider.

‘So, you’ll just take the blame, even if you don’t deserve it? Spider. When I got back to you they were throwing stones at you.'

Spider shrugs, pretending the question doesn’t make his throat close up painfully. ‘Who says I don’t deserve it?’

‘Do you know that I thought someone had taken you again? I was scared you’d been hurt.’

Spider snaps back to Jake. If he had been confused before, he’s even more confused now. Jake has switched topics, and the thought of Jake being scared, being scared for Spider, just doesn’t compute. He must have meant something else, Spider must be getting the message wrong. Why would Jake…

‘What happened when you were with the RDA?’ Jake asks, and Spider feels like he’s on a merry-go-round in this conversation.

‘What?’ he says. 

Jake is looking at Spider intently, like he’s watching for Spider’s reactions just as critically as Spider is looking for Jake’s. Spider suddenly gets the feeling that they are in a tug of war, and Jake has kicked up a cloud of dust in front of Spider’s eyes and he can’t see where they’re heading anymore. If he’s not careful, he could really slip up. And if he slips up, would Jake put him back in the morgue?

‘I need you to tell me what you did while you were with the RDA,’ Jake repeats, and Spider’s head spins. 

What does Jake want from him? Spider doesn’t want to think about the RDA at all: it’s painful, like there’s a hot stove in his mind and bringing up the memories feels like pressing himself to the siering heat. Spider’s palms begin to sweat. What does Jake want? He’s seen Spider covered in blood and taken him here to talk, far away from anyone else, he’s switching topics to try and keep Spider off balance but-- wait. 

Spider recognises these tactics. 

This is an interrogation. 

‘I didn’t tell them where you were,’ Spider blurts, trying to keep his voice steady. His heart starts to beat harder. ‘I didn’t even know you’d left the mountains, but I didn’t give them that, either.’ Spider tries to keep away from the memories, just stating the facts and trying to focus on Jake in front of him. His head starts to hurt anyway.

‘Wait,’ Jake says, and now he looks confused, and Spider feels dread that he’s said too much. ‘They asked you where we were?’

Spider nods. His hand finds a thick leaf on the ground and he crushes it, squeezing the fluid inside over his fingers. ‘I was never going to say anything, I swear. They’d have had to--’ Lightning flashes in Spider’s head and he clicks his teeth together to stop from hissing in pain. Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it. The bright lights, the roaring sounds of that machine, the pain, the cage-- 

Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it. 

He can hear Jake calling his name.

‘Sorry,’ Spider says, and he’s trying to catch his breath when he starts coughing. ‘I’m sorry, I just--’ the leaf in his fist is warm, and Spider feels sweat dripping down his spine. He presses a hand to his mask, holding it there, and tries to take a breath. The coughing stops and he takes another breath, and another.

‘Spider,’ Jake says again, and it’s quiet. Spider focusses back on Jake. ‘I just need you to tell me one more thing. If you didn’t want to tell them where we were, then why did you hurt the Metkayina trying to find us?’

It’s as if the dust has cleared from Spider’s vision, and he can see where Jake has pulled the rope. Jake’s face is open, his brow furrowed and eyes looking right into Spider. Jake already knows all of this, Spider realises. He is just looking for a confession. Spider feels sick to his core. Jake is going to know for sure and lock Spider back up in the morgue. 

Panic rushes through Spider like ice. 

Spider can’t go back there. He can’t.

The words are pouring from Spider before he can even think, desperate to make Jake understand. ‘I didn’t want to hurt anyone,’ he says, and his nails dig into his palm around the leaf. ‘I swear. Quaritch he-- he wanted to shoot them, but I tried to stop him. I tried to help the Na’vi, to tell them to not fight like you always say, but-- The Recoms, they had these fire guns, and bombs, and I couldn’t-- none of them would listen to me. I couldn’t do anything, I wanted to run but I--’

Spider stops. The tracker is still in his mask. He’d forgotten. How could he have forgotten?

‘Spider--’

They could find him at any moment.

It is suddenly very, very hard for Spider to breathe. 

‘-- I promise, I didn’t want anyone to get hurt, I just--’ There’s a hand on Spider’s shoulder, and he flinches back, terrified of the strike that’s coming next. 

Jake is suddenly right in front of him- when did he get so close? - and he’s speaking to Spider, it’s so quiet Spider can hardly hear it over the sound of his heartbeat in his ears.

‘...eathe, okay? That’s it. Just look right at me.’

Spider looks. He can’t read Jake’s face but Spider’s terrified of what he’s just said to Jake. ‘Please, I didn’t want to hurt anyone,’ he chokes. His heart is slamming against his ribs so hard it hurts. He wants to get away from Jake, but his body is frozen in place. 

Jake keeps speaking quietly. ‘You’re having a panic attack. It will go away soon, just breathe.’

Spider’s terrified. He doesn’t know what a panic attack is, and how it’s supposed to go away when Spider feels like something’s wrapping around his throat and squeezing--

Jake takes Spider’s wrist and starts to pull it.

‘Don’t touch me.’ Spider hisses at Jake, and when Jake doesn’t let go, Spider hisses again. 

Jake presses Spider’s hand to Jake’s chest, working to loosen Spider’s fist to lay his fingers flat. Spider pulls, but he will never, ever be strong enough against a Na’vi. Jake’s hand cover’s Spider’s, and he holds Spider there. 

‘Feel my heartbeat, follow my breath,’ Jake is saying, and Spider feels dizzy, pulling on his arm again and trying to get away.

But then he feels the thumping under his palm. It’s slow, and steady, and Jake’s skin is hot against Spider’s cold hands. 

Jake breathes in through his nose, long and slow. Then he breathes out, making an O shape with his mouth. Spider’s hand rises and falls with it. 

‘Again, with me,’ Jake says. He breathes in again, and Spider tries to follow. His chest hitches and he can’t quite fill his lungs, and when Jake breathes out Spider can’t really do that either. His throat closes even more. ‘It's alright, just try again. You’re doing good.’

They go again, and again, and again. Spider gets lost in trying to keep his breaths even, forcing it deeper than his shoulders. 

‘Good job,’ Jake says, so quietly it calms Spider even more. 

Spider looks up from his hand on Jake’s chest, seeing Jake smiling at him. Spider yanks on his arm again, and this time Jake lets him go. Spider rubs at his hand. Shame washes over him, and he feels his face start to burn. 

What just happened to him? He lost control in front of Jake, just because Jake asked him some questions. 

‘Sorry,’ Spider mumbles. He feels dizzy, and suddenly exhausted.

Jake doesn’t say anything. And somehow that makes Spider feel worse. 

Eventually, Jake speaks. ‘I need to go back to the village. The Metkayina need to know what you just told me. Are you coming?’

Spider’s heart sinks. He hugs his knees to his chest, and stares into the stream. Of course. Jake has his confession, that he couldn’t stop the Recom team, and he can go and corroborate with Tonowari. 

‘Are you going to send me back?’ Spider hears Jake shift beside him.

‘Back where?’ 

‘To the morgue.’  At least if he knows, he can expect it when they come to catch him. 

‘The…? No,’ Jake says. ‘You are staying with us. No one’s going to put you back there. You never should have been locked away like that.’

Spider curls up tighter. He doesn’t reply to Jake. He doesn’t think Jake wants to argue, but Spider knows that he was put there for a reason. Jake is about to go and remind Tonowari of why Spider should be locked away, and Spider will be lucky if he manages to keep the seeds Ngaire gave him this time. 

And they don’t even know about the tracker in his mask. 

Jake waits, and it’s on the tip of Spider’s tongue to say it, to tell Jake that there’s more, that Spider is a homing beacon for demons, but he doesn’t. He can’t say it. He can’t bring himself to make everything worse when he’s already dug so low. 

Coward. 

Jake shifts again beside Spider. To Spider’s horror, Jake puts an arm around Spider’s shoulder, and begins to pull him in for a hug. 

‘Wh-- get off me,’ Spider snaps, shrugging out of Jake’s hold, Spider jumps into the stream, stumbling back until he trips and lands on his butt on the other side. 

Jake stands quickly, looking at Spider with wide eyes over the rushing water. For a moment, Spider braces to run when he thinks Jake might come after him, but instead Jake just puts out his hands. 

‘Sorry, I’m sorry. You just looked like--’ he stops himself. ‘I’m not going to touch you. Look, I’m going to head back to the village. If you follow this path it will lead you there too. Just… whenever you’re ready.’ 

Jake waits for Spider to reply, but Spider just watches him. Eventually, Jake takes a few steps back, raising one hand in some sort of awkward, aborted wave, and then turns and heads back down the path towards the village.

Jake finds Tonowari talking to Ronal where the crowd from before had since dispersed. As Tonowari spots Jake approaching, his welcoming smile has a tense edge to it.

‘You are not going to punch me again, are you, Jake?’ Tonowari jokes, but there’s a genuine question behind it. 

‘I have half a mind to shoot you where you stand, actually,’ Jake says. 

Ronal takes a defensive stance beside them, she asks him what he’s talking about. Jake ignores her. 

Tonowari’s smile drops. ‘I am sure you understand your position, Jake. Your human boy has not been under your watch for a day and he has already caused harm to our village. I fail to see how you feel able to threaten me when you--’

‘What exactly did he say to you,’ Jake interrupts. ‘When you say he confessed to the Metkayina raids. What exactly did he say?’

Tonowari stares at Jake for a long time. ‘I simply asked him if the rumours of the striped human boy were about him, and he said yes.’

‘And did you ask him why?’

‘I do not need to reason with demons--’

‘Because, if you had, you might have learnt that he was the one to stop any Metkayina deaths. He tried to save the Na’vi from the sky people.’

‘You are naive,’ Tonowari says, almost laughing at Jake’s story. ‘Believing lies from the mouth of evil... It will say anything to avoid punishment. Your mind is twisted, Jake Sully, from the demon blood in your veins. You and your whole family are poisoned with--’

Jake tackles Tonowari so hard they both tumble from the path onto the shore below, sand and vegetation breaking their fall as Jake lands on top of Tonowari. 

Immediately, Tonowari is swinging his spear at Jake’s ribs, but Jake catches his wrist, twisting with enough ferocity that he can feel bones grind under Tonowari’s skin as he cries out and drops it. Jake, hearing Ronal and others approaching, slams his head down into Tonowari’s. Tonowari’s nose breaks, and Jake sees stars as he is hauled off of Tonowari, kicking him as he is dragged away. 

‘If you ever insult my family again, I will kill you,’ Jake spits. ‘Spider is innocent.’

‘It is not innocent,’ Tonowari says back, staggering to his feet with the help of Ronal beside him. His words are slurred from the blood running down his face, and the satisfaction Jake feels to see it is welcomed. ‘I still don’t want to fight you, Jake. Please, don’t let this human come between us.’

Jake is about to retaliate when he realises that the people who are holding him back are in fact his children: Lo’ak and Kiri. 

‘Dad, what the fuck?’ Lo’ak says, and tugs on Jake until he and Kiri pull him away. Jake lets himself be pulled, his head spinning from the blow. They leave Tonowari behind with Ronal, and Jake shrugs off the kids, trying to shake the ringing out of his ears. ‘You give me shit for fighting and you go ahead and do this?’ 

‘I had a good reason,’ Jake says. He stops walking, and they stop with him. ‘Listen, kids. Spider’s not in a good way--’

‘You found him?’ Kiri says. ‘Where is he?’

‘He’s cooling off by the river.’ When they turn to go, Jake catches them by their arms. ‘Don’t-- just leave him be for now. He’ll be fine, but we just need to keep an eye on him, alright?’

‘Why? Dad, what’s going on?’ Lo’ak says.

‘I’m trying to find that out myself,’ Jake says. ‘But Tonowari is convinced that Spider has sided with the RDA--' Jake raises a hand to hush the protests from them both- ‘and if we’re not careful, it could cause some real issues. Spider’s already in trouble with the Metkayina, so we need to make sure he doesn’t get into any more trouble.’

‘Yeah, like you were being so careful back there, Dad,’ Kiri says. 

‘Maybe I can talk to Tsireya and Ao’nung, maybe they can meet Spider and see he’s okay, and they can convince Tonowari,’ Lo’ak says. 

‘We’ll see,’ Jake says, hesitant. ‘Let’s just get back. Your mom’s probably wanting help with chores.’

It’s a long time before Spider returns, the sun almost reaching eclipse. He arrives quietly, and sits down on his sleeping mat without a word, facing away from the rest of the Sullys where they are gathered near the cooking fire. Jake sees Kiri and Lo’ak giving each other a look, Kiri making to move to him before Lo’ak reaches out to stop her. For a moment, Kiri relents, but then she looks at Spider again and stands. She picks up a bowl, something she’s been working on all afternoon inside, and approaches him slowly. 

‘Hey,’ she says as she sits beside him. Jake doesn’t see Spider give any reaction, but Kiri carries on. ‘Here, look what I made.’ She offers Spider the bowl. ‘I couldn’t find any of the seeds we usually use here, so the colour is a little different, but I found some flowers that looked close enough, what do you think?’

Oh, she’s made paint for his stripes. Jake looks to Neytiri to question if she knew Kiri had done this, but the look she returns suggests she also had no idea. 

Jake sees Spider uncurl a bit, and he takes the bowl from her. 

‘Thanks, Kiri,’ he says. His voice sounds strange, and he coughs once to clear his throat. 

‘Can I help you?’

‘No, thanks. I’ll do it myself.’ 

Kiri straightens, Jake sees the hurt flicker across her face. ‘Oh, okay. Sure. Just… let me know, okay?’ 

Spider makes a noise to confirm, and Kiri waits a moment before returning to the rest of the Sullys. She sits next to Jake, and he pulls her in to kiss the top of her head. She shrugs him off, but Jake hopes she knows that he’s proud of her, his kind girl. 

They let Spider be for the rest of the night, their chatter covering for the glances they throw in Spider’s direction. He paints his stripes alone, and when he’s done he lies down and seems to fall asleep before supper is ready. 

When the Sullys all curl up for the night, Jake spends a long time staring at the dark shape of  Spider’s back across the hut. Tonowari and the things Spider said tumble in his brain like crashing waves, pulling and pushing at the same time. He gets the feeling that there are things Spider isn’t telling him. The panic attack earlier could have just been from being afraid he was going to be put back in the morgue, but something about the way Spider keeps shutting down doesn’t sit right with Jake. Then there was Spider’s expression once he’d calmed down which looked almost like he was… guilty. He can’t get rid of the sinking feeling in his chest, like something just around the corner is going to go really, very wrong. 

He just hopes that it isn’t his worst fear: that Spider really has become more human than Na’vi.

Chapter Text

When Spider wakes the next morning, he is up before the sun has properly returned from eclipse. The Sullys sleep on for a while longer, but Spider doesn’t wait. The night had been blissfully dream-free, and Spider is thankful for the absence of dread that he has come to expect from sleeping. Despite this, Spider still feels exhaustion pulling at his limbs as he stands. His leg hurts from yesterday, and he aches where he was pulled and bound. 

Spider stretches his arms above his head and, despite the protests from elsewhere on his body, marvels at the lack of pain from his chest wound. He pokes at it gently, and it seems to have healed nicely. The scab is still large and puckered, and Spider knows that by now, it will definitely scar, but he supposes it doesn’t matter. His blue stripes held fast while he slept, and as he moves his body, stretching this way and that, he feels a bit less strange to himself. 

He is still far too skinny, though. Spider makes a mental note to start finding ways to build his strength again soon. 

As quietly as he can, Spider gathers the used utensils from around the cooking fire, gathering everything from the Sullys’ supper last night into his arms and leaving the hut quickly. 

Spider finds his way back to the stream that Jake had led him to yesterday. He moves mainly from memory until the sky begins to lighten and by the time he reaches the water, there is enough light for him to see well enough. Using the brush he had taken from the utensil box, begins to scrub at the bowls and spoons in the clean running water. 

The water is even colder than it had been yesterday, but this time Spider finds that it is pleasant while he busies himself with the dishes. His fingers start to go numb, but he doesn’t mind it much. 

He finishes the washing, checking his work to make sure there are no spots he missed that would irritate someone later, before gathering them all back up and making his way back to the Sullys. He reaches the hut just as Tuk wakes, always the first of the Sullys, and she clambers over to him as he sets the dishes down beside the cooking fireplace.

‘Are you feeling better?’ She whispers to him. She puts her hand on his chest, looking at his cut.

‘Yeah,’ Spider says, and then is cut off when Tuk wraps her arms around him. 

She’s still warm and soft from sleeping, and she presses his face into his neck. ‘That’s good. I missed you,’ she says. 

‘I missed you too.’ Spider hugs her back, but his hands are still cold from the river, so Tuk shrieks when he touches her skin. 

She wrenches away from him. ‘Spider, why are your hands so cold?’

‘Tuk, shut up,’ Kiri groans. 

Jake sits up, blinking into the sunlight for a few moments. He spots Tuk and Spider by the fire, and Spider freezes. 

‘Hey, you two,’ Jake says, yawning as he speaks. ‘If you’re going to play rough, can you do it somewhere else please?’

‘Yes, sir,’ Spider says automatically. 

Jake frowns. He looks between Tuk and Spider, and then finally notices the dishes sitting beside Spider. ‘Did you guys wash up?’ 

‘Spider did,’ Tuk says. ‘His hands are so cold now.’

Jake looks at Spider, his frown easing. ‘Thank you, Spider, you didn’t have to do that.’

Spider’s voice dries up in his throat. He shrugs instead. Spider had been hoping he could have done this without his interference being noted. 

It was the least he could do. It will be the least he does from now on. 

After Jake had left him at the stream yesterday, Spider had sat beside the water, a war in his mind that he could not settle for hours. 

One part of him had been angry. A hot burning rage that warmed his numb fingers as he clenched them into fists. How could Jake try and hug him as if it was all nothing, as if Spider hadn’t done all the monstrous things he did, as if Jake hadn’t punished Spider by leaving him in that hut? It was cruel, and Spider had hated Jake for it.

The other part of him, the deeper park of him, had been holding so tightly onto that hug that Jake had tried to give him before Spider had freaked out. He had wanted to know what Jake had meant by that, what Jake was going to say before he cut himself off. If there was a chance that Jake was starting to forgive Spider, then Spider wanted to leap for that chance with everything he had. Jake had called Spider “ours” on the beach after the Three Brothers fight, but that moment felt so long ago that Spider couldn’t even be sure if it had actually happened, or whether it was a desperate dream he’d had whilst succumbing to his fever. 

His mind had kept replaying how Jake had backed away from him after Spider had flinched from the hug. Spider had been so confused in that moment, caught off guard by the sudden contact, but in the hours after Jake had left Spider had felt so lonely it was like his heart was breaking over and over again. 

Sitting alone at the river as the eclipse started, Spider realised that the thing he wanted most of all was something so fragile that gripping onto it too tightly would shatter it in his palms and leave him bleeding. Forgiveness is not something Spider can take. It is something Spider has to be given. 

Spider had decided that earning forgiveness from Jake, from the Sullys, and from the Metkayina was going to be his one and only goal from then on. He knew it would not be easy, but Spider’s heart was aching so badly for a home he wasn’t permitted to return to, freezing from the river water and alone on this unfamiliar island, that Spider couldn’t think of anything else but to try. 

If he could just prove himself useful enough, loyal enough, Na’vi enough, then maybe… 

Well, Spider would just have to try first, then see if any maybes are even on the table.

Presently, Spider has been caught on the first step of this plan.

Jake removes himself from his still dozing family and crawls over to where Tuk and Spider are sitting. ‘Are either of you hungry?’ Jake says quietly, and Spider is about to say no when his stomach growls loudly enough he even sees Kiri’s ear turn to him from where she’s lying. 

Heat blooms on his cheeks and neck, and Jake huffs a laugh. ‘I’ll take that as a yes.’

Tuk giggles too, and pokes Spider in the stomach. ‘You need to eat a lot, Spider, you’re too skinny.’

Spider swats her hand away. ‘Yeah, I guess I’m a little hungry.’ 

Jake tears up some bread for them both, and Spider still hesitates to take off his mask to eat it, but forces himself to swallow the fear to avoid attention. 

Over the morning, the rest of the Sullys eventually rise, Lo’ak and Kiri being the last. Spider tries his best to stay out of their way, and he keeps himself busy with collecting a growing mental list of things to do. To try. 

Spider starts with tidying. He takes the IV which had been lying next to his bed and curls the tubing around the empty bag. He tucks it up against the wall of the hut, and next to it he presses the empty water pouch Ngaire had left him, making a mental note to return it to Ngaire when Spider sees him next. Spider rolls up his sleeping mat and pushes that to the side too, covering the messiness of those two items. 

He doesn’t dare touch any of the Sullys’ things, and he’s about to get onto the next task when he suddenly remembers he had left the water bowl from yesterday down at the beach. He never went back for it after he’d been caught. How could he have forgotten?

Quickly, Spider is on his feet and racing out of the hut. He can hear Kiri call his name but he doesn’t pause, hoping against all odds that the bowl is still on the beach where he left it. 

It isn’t. 

Spider scours the area where he had been sitting yesterday morning, digging his hands through the sand and pulling up rocks to scan the crawling worlds underneath. The bowl is gone. 

Spider rakes his hands into his hair, pulling at the matts and biting his lip to stifle the shout of frustration. How could he have been so stupid? 

Neytiri is going to be so angry at him. Jake might get angry too. He shouldn’t have even taken the bowl out of the hut to begin with. It hasn’t even been three full days since they took him back in and he’s already messed up twice. 

Spider spins around, searching desperately for something, anything that could fix this. His gaze lands on a piece of driftwood on the beach beside him. It looks big enough, maybe he could just replace the bowl before anyone notices. 

Spider snatches up the piece of wood, and comes to his second barrier: how to turn it into a bowl.

Spider manages to sneak one of the kitchen knives from the Sullys hut after they’d all gone to wash and he spends the next few hours carving the water-softened wood into a deep bowl shape. By the time he’s done, he only has a couple of cuts on his fingers and the bowl looks pretty bowl-like, even if he says so himself. It doesn’t look much like the bowl he lost: it’s not polished like the others, but he doesn’t know where he would even look for polish. Still, it’s better than nothing. 

He makes his way back to the hut, glad that the Sullys are still gone. Quietly, Spider sips the bowl into the pile. It's not really good enough. It will never work as a proper bowl, but it might just buy him enough time to figure out a better plan. 

‘Hey, bro,’ Lo’ak says from behind Spider, and Spider almost jumps a foot in the air. 

‘What the fuck,’ Spider gasps. ‘Don’t do that.’

Lo’ak chuckles. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.’ He peers at Spider, and then over his shoulder at the utensils box. ‘What are you doing? It’s not lunch time yet.’

‘I know,’ Spider says, standing and trying to move away from the box subtly. Lo’ak must see his obviousness, though, because he crosses his arms and raises a brow. 

‘Mom’s going to kill you if you’re stealing snacks. I want in.’ 

Spider stops. ‘What? Stealing-- no, I’m not taking anything.’

Lo’ak’s arms drop. ‘Then what are…’ Spider can see the exact moment that Lo’ak spots the badly made bowl in the pile. ‘What is this?’ Before Spider can catch him, Lo’ak dips and fishes the bowl out, holding it aloft. ‘Dude… did you make this?’ 

‘Put it back,’ Spider says, trying to swipe it from Lo’ak’s hands. Lo’ak expertly keeps the bowl out of Spider’s reach, turning the bowl over to get a look. 

‘Seriously, bro. What is this? No offence, but I don’t think domestic carpentry is your strong suit.’ Lo’ak snorts. ‘You didn’t even shave the splinters down, what…’ he looks down at Spider, and Spider can see every inch of glee in Lo’ak’s face. ‘What are you even trying to do?’

Spider stands back on his heels, giving up trying to get the bowl back. ‘Nothing,’ he says, and he cringes inwardly at how he sounds like a pouting child. ‘Just leave it alone, asshole.’

Lo’ak chuckles and places the bowl back onto the pile. He pauses, looking at it. Spider hopes he doesn’t say anything else. Eventually, Lo’ak shrugs. ‘Wanna go explore the island?’ 

Spider does, badly. He misses running around with the Sully kids, feeling free and knowing the forest like the back of his hand. He misses the random games they’d make, and the way they’d all return home sweaty and aching and giggling. 

It was different back then, though, because back then Spider wasn’t… he hadn’t hurt so many people back then. 

‘I can’t,’ Spider said, turning away from Lo’ak and making his way towards the front of the hut. ‘Sorry.’

‘What-- what do you mean? Hey, Spider,’ Lo’ak catches Spider by the arm, and turns him around. ‘Where are you going?’

‘I’ve gotta help Jake with some stuff.’ Spider thinks it’s close enough to the truth. 

‘Oh,’ Lo’ak says, seeming to deflate a little. ‘Okay, well, do you want to do something later?’ 

Spider shrugs. ‘I’m gonna be kind of busy. But maybe.’

Lo’ak’s ears dip, and for a moment Spider thinks he’s actually hurt Lo’ak’s feelings. Spider shakes it off, though. Lo’ak must just be a little bit lonely without Neteyam. 

‘I think Kiri and Tuk should be done bathing soon, you can hang with them,’ Spider says.

‘Yeah, I guess.’ 

When Spider pulls away, Lo’ak lets him go. Spider hurries out of the hut, purposefully not looking back. He doesn’t want to leave Lo’ak alone when he’s clearly not feeling okay, but Spider’s skin has begun to crawl with the thought of being caught goofing off with a Sully kid. He can’t afford to mess around like he used to anymore.

Spider slows down when he gets nearer the village. He pauses, tucking himself against a load-bearing tree beside the path, trying to see the best way that he could get closer without freaking the Metkayina out. 

Spider hops down from the path and finds that the gap between the ground and the path, while too small for a Na’vi to comfortably move around, is big enough for Spider to duck and use that as a form of cover. Quickly, he glances around in case anyone sees him, before  dipping beneath it. As quietly as he can, Spider moves closer to the village. He keeps his ears pricked for Na’vi nearby, but manages to get right to the shore- at this time of the morning a hub of activity- without being noticed. 

Spider spots the fishermen who are already coming back from the morning’s run, unloading netfuls of fish into baskets to be taken to the kitchens for preparation. Spider waits, peeking through the small gaps in the risen pathway, dodging the heavy footfalls that bounce past his head, and keeping away from the crackly seaweed that lies dried on the sand that would give him away.

Finally, when the fishermen have all dismounted their ilu and gathered further up the shore for a meal and debrief, Spider sees his chance. As quickly as his tired body can move, Spider pulls himself up onto the pathway, snatching one of the nets from the pile and pulling it below the path again. He knows he doesn’t have much time before someone is likely to notice the missing net, so he works fast. 

Pulling the net between his fingers, Spider studies the fibres that make up the rope, the way it  is woven to make the strong cords, and how those cords are knotted into a net. He’s pleased to find that it’s fairly simple, if something quite menial to do. 

Spider checks for approaching Na’vi before he flings the net back onto the path, satisfied as he hurries away that his borrowing wasn’t noticed. 

The rest of Spider’s morning is spent finding out where the fibres from the rope come from (he spots a group of Na’vi weaving piles of it together, and one bringing more from the rockpools near the village from a plant he doesn’t recognise). Spider finds a rockpool further down the shoreline, fairly hidden from the village, and he learns quickly how to spot the floating heads of the plants and pulling out the fibre material, digging his nails into their gelatinous stems to tear out the long, strong threads that kept the plants gripped to the rock through the crashing waves.

After a few hours, the lack of sleep Spider got last night starts to weigh on him. His body is exhausted, and as the day arrives at noon, the heat becomes almost unbearable as Spider navigates the shadeless shore. The sea breeze is a small blessing, but the salt-ledden air on his sweaty skin leaves painfully dry areas on his back and arms. Spider endures it, hunching over the rockpools and forcing his aching arms to pull at the threads again and again. 

Eventually, Spider has a heavy load of threads which he has been piling onto his shoulder, and as he stands ready to make his way back towards the village, Spider suddenly feels so light headed he almost tips over.

Water. He needs water. And food. When was the last time he ate, again? Was it only this morning?

Spider takes a moment to wait for the dizziness to pass, and he finds he’s having to breathe faster in the heat, the air so thick it hardly feels like he’s filling his lungs at all. 

Spider coughs as he tries to deepen his breathing, and he rubs at his chest as it hurts a bit. It passes, and Spider adjusts the weight on his shoulder before making his way back to the village. If he walks slower than usual, well, he supposes no one else is here to question it. 

Getting back to the shade of the village, Spider’s relief to be out of the burning sun brings him to drop the threads to the ground and collapse to sit on the grassy bank then and there. Spider allows himself a break for a few seconds, and pulls the pouch of seeds from his waist. He forces the mask off of his face and the fistful of seeds into his mouth before he has the chance to let the fear sneak up on him again. He’ll have to remember to find some drinking water later.

Spider puts the seeds away and swallows the exhaustion, turning to the pile of threads he managed to collect. Slowly at first, but getting faster as he tries, Spider begins to weave the threads together the way he saw the Na’vi doing earlier. Soon, Spider is pleased to see his work beginning to take shape into the ropes he recognises from the net he’d studied. 

Spider is so engrossed in the weaving that he hardly notices the time go by, only looking up from his hands when he hears Jake call his name. It will be eclipse soon. 

‘Spider!’ Jake calls again, but he sounds far away. 

When Spider stands his body protests painfully, his muscles stiff from the hours hunched over the rockpools and then the weaving. Spider makes his way to where the path rises from the ground to the raised walkways, and he spots Jake a little ways off, striding away from him. Jake calls his name again. 

‘Jake,’ Spider calls back, but his throat is so dry it comes out a pathetic crackle. Spider clears his throat, and it sends him coughing again. He calls again as soon as he gets his breath back. 

Fortunately, Jake hears him this time and turns around. 

‘I’ve been looking for you everywhere,’ Jake says as he approaches. ‘You need to stop disappearing like that, you’ve been gone since breakfast.’

‘Sorry,’ Spider says, because he can hear Jake’s distress in his voice. Jake is supposed to be watching Spider so that he doesn’t get into any more trouble, and Spider has managed to make even that something difficult for Jake. ‘I’m sorry.’

Jake looks at Spider with an odd expression. ‘It’s fine. I’m just glad you’re okay.’ 

Spider shrugs, and because he doesn’t know what else to say, he sits and picks up the threads he had just been weaving. 

‘What are you doing?’ Jake asks, squatting down in front of Spider. 

‘Making rope for the nets,’ Spider says, keeping his voice level. 

‘Did someone tell you to do this?’ 

‘No.’

‘Then where did you get-- did you steal these?’ Jake pulls some of the threads from the pile. He sounds disappointed when he speaks again. ‘Spider--’

‘I didn’t steal them,’ Spider blurts, hating that tone in Jake’s voice. He cringes at his rudeness, but carries on. ‘I got them myself, over by the rocks. No one saw me, I swear.’

Jake is quiet for a long moment. ‘But no one’s asked you to do this.’

‘I said no.’

‘What are the nets for, then? Spider, the Metkayina need these plants for their fishing and infrastructure, you can’t just take a whole bunch for your own--’

‘It’s not for me, it’s for them ,’ Spider snaps. He looks at Jake and meets his eyes. Jake is looking at Spider like he’s trying to solve a riddle that he can’t figure out. Spider looks back, schooling his face into something neutral before Jake finds anything there that Spider would rather he not see. ‘I figured I could help with making some nets, since I wasn’t doing anything otherwise.’

‘And you’ve been at it all day?’

Spider shrugs.

They stare at each other, and Spider feels as though he gave too much away already. A look of recognition, or resignation perhaps, settles onto Jake’s face, and Jake drops his eyes. 

‘Well, can I help?’ Jake says, settling down to sit properly in front of Spider. ‘There’s still some time before supper, so I might as well or else Neytiri might make me help cook, and you know how that normally ends up.’

Spider can’t help but snort. It’s a bad joke, but still. 

Spider hands Jake a group of threads and shows him how to weave it (it turns out Jake hadn’t tried this before). They sit in silence for a while, and Spider’s shoulders begin to lower from his ears as he relaxes back into the monotony of the weaving.

‘Can you pass me another string? This one broke.’

Spider freezes, his heart suddenly thundering. That wasn’t Na’vi. ‘Why… are you speaking English to me?’ he asks, on purpose replying in Na’vi. 

Jake looks at him quizzically. ‘Because it’s our first language.’ He says it slowly, in Na’vi this time, raising his voice at the end of the sentence which makes it sound a bit like a question. ‘I couldn’t remember the word for string.’

Spider shakes his head. ‘You could have just explained it to me in Na’vi, I would have gotten it. You didn’t have to just change the whole conversation to speak in English all of a sudden.’ 

‘Well, yeah I suppose I could have, but what difference does it make?’ 

‘It's just different,’ Spider says. 

‘Spider, you’re shaking,’ Jake says, and Spider immediately drops the ropes he’s weaving. 

‘Just leave me alone,’ Spider says, and he stands up suddenly, ignoring the wave of dizziness as he turns and walks away from Jake. 

Jake calls his name, but Spider doesn’t bother replying. When Jake catches Spider’s arm to stop him, Spider tries to wrench his arm away, but he will never, ever be strong enough to pull from Jake’s grip. Still Jake holds him gently enough that Spider won’t even bruise, and that alone brings a lump to Spider’s throat. 

‘Spider,’ Jake says. ‘What’s wrong? You can tell me.’

It’s English again, it’s fucking English again. Spider’s ears start to ring as Jake calls his name again. 

‘Shut up,’ Spider barks. He raises his hands up to his ears, the ringing starting to give him a headache. ‘Just-- stop talking, okay?’ 

‘Hey,’ Jake says, sounding angry this time. ‘Don’t tell me to shut up.’ 

It sounds just like Quaritch, just like the Recoms and the scientists at the RDA. Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it. It hurts. Don’t think about it. 

Jake shakes Spider a little. ‘I’m trying to help, kid. Look at me.’ 

‘Please let go,’ Spider whispers, and he’s shameful at how much it sounds like he’s about to cry.

Thankfully Jake does let go this time, and Spider presses on his ears. The ringing goes away to be replaced by the thundering in his head as he squeezes. 

He takes a deep breath in, and it catches in his chest, making him cough. He lowers his hands from his ears.

Jake takes a couple steps away, but hovers closeby. ‘You’ve been coughing a lot,’ Jake says, in Na’vi this time. He’s changing the subject, Spider can tell, and if he wasn’t so off-balance he’d be a little grateful. 

Spider shrugs. ‘It’s just the humidity, probably.’ 

‘Come here for a sec,’ Jake says, beckoning Spider over. 

‘Why?’ 

‘Just get over here.’ Jake smiles, like Spider’s suspicion is a playful jab. 

Spider does, and Jake takes Spider’s jaw in his hands, and dips his face to check on it. He turns Spider’s head this way and that, and Spider tries not to let on that it kind of hurts his aching muscles. 

Jake hums. ‘I thought that might be it,’ he says. 

‘What? What’s what?’

Jake traces his finger down the edge of Spider’s jaw, right where the mask is sealed to his skin. It makes Spider jump in Jake’s hold, and he tries to tell himself to calm down. Jake wouldn’t rip off Spider’s mask. Jake’s not going to--

‘You’re growing a beard,’ Jake says.

‘Huh?’ 

Jake runs his finger along Spider’s jaw again, and this time Spider feels where it catches. Spider raises his own fingers there, rubbing at the edge of his mask. Lo and behold, short, coarse hairs have sprouted all over his skin. 

Jake chuckles. ‘Feel it?’ 

Spider nods. ‘I didn’t know,’ he mumbles. The hair goes right down to his neck, and right up to his temples. When did that get there?

‘Your hair’s so blond that I didn’t notice it either,’ Jake says. ‘But I think that’s what’s been making you cough. Facial hair can prevent a proper seal if you’re not careful. I think you’ve been having tiny doses of Pandora air getting through and it has irritated your airways.’ Jake must see the panic on Spider’s face, because he raises his hands quickly. ‘It’s okay. It happens sometimes with human men. It happened to me, once. Here, I can show you how to do it. Deep breath--’ Jake reaches for the release latch on Spider’s mask, and Spider stumbles a few steps back.

‘Don’t,’ Spider gasps, which sends him coughing again. 

Jake’s hands stay up. ‘It’s alright,’ he's suddenly speaking very softly. ‘Spider, it’s okay. I wasn't going to take it off until you were ready.’ His brow furrows slightly. ‘Did someone ever--’ He stops himself, and Spider sees Jake swallow, before changing tracks. ‘I was just going to help you with getting the seal right.’

Spider forces his body to relax. ‘How can I get rid of it,’ he says, gesturing to his face. ‘Other humans don’t have it, so how do I cut it off?’ 

Jake’s eyes widen, and Spider is mortified to see a smile bloom on his face. ‘Has no one ever taught you how to shave?’ 

Spider shakes his head slowly. Who would have ever taught Spider anything like that?

‘Okay, well you’re about to learn right now, then.’ Jake straightens up, and he beckons for Spider to follow him. 

Spider is slower move, his body hurting and his chest tighter now that he is aware of the poison he might be breathing. 

Jake leads Spider back to the Sully family hut. The rest of the Sullys are all there already, lounging in the late afternoon rays before the evening activities. 

‘Spider!’ Kiri says as he lingers in the doorway. She gets up and pulls him into a hug. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t know where you were. I haven’t been able to spend time with you, yet. Are you okay?’ 

Spider nods. The hug has made his throat close up, and he can’t speak. It feels so nice, so warm, so familiar. Kiri used to hug him all the time, and he hadn’t realised how much he missed it. She still wants to hug him now, even after everything. But, if that’s so, then why… ‘Kiri, I…’ he starts, but he’s interrupted by Jake.

‘I’ve got what we need. Come on, we need to go before we lose the daylight,’ he says, and Kiri lets Spider go.

He’s suddenly cold for the first time since the sun returned today. 

‘Where are you going?’ Kiri says. ‘I’m coming too.’

‘It’s guy stuff, Kiri,’ Jake says. ‘We’ll be right back, I promise.’ 

Kiri groans, her head hanging back in annoyance. ‘Okay, well when you get back then Spider’s going to come and hang with us,’ she insists. ‘Right?’ she asks him, looking at him seriously. 

Spider’s heart clenches. She’s speaking to him like she always has, as though the last few months didn’t even happen. As though she genuinely still wants to spend time with Spider. If that’s really true, then why did she leave him in the morgue all alone?

Jake’s hand lands on Spider’s shoulder, so feather-light it’s as though Jake is reluctant to touch Spider at all. ‘Ready?’ Jake says, and Spider realises he’s been standing still for an uncomfortable few seconds. 

Spider nods, and Jake leads him out of the hut. 

They walk towards the village, and Spider expects Jake to lead him off to the river again, but he doesn’t. They near the centre, and suddenly Spider spots the faint shape of Tonowari, the tallest of the Metkayina by far, standing at the shoreline. Spider stops walking and it takes Jake a couple more steps to realise and he stops, too. 

‘Spider?’ 

‘Can we go a different way?’ Spider is watching Tonowari intensely. It’s unlikely that Tonowari can hear them from this distance, but if he turns to look, he’ll easily be able to see them. 

‘We’re just going down to the--’ 

‘Please,’ Spider interrupts, seeing Jake start to point in the direction that would definitely get them spotted by Tonowari. 

Jake pauses, turning away from Spider to follow his gaze. ‘Oh,’ Jake says, suddenly. ‘Yeah, let’s go a different way.’

Jake back-tracks a bit and then leads them around the back of the village, and they eventually come to a small lake. It’s largely sheltered by the large canopy of the trees that surround it, with dappled sunlight dancing as the breeze rustles the branches. The lake has a small feeder stream coming from up the bank and a little brooke trickles with the water that leaves it. Along the edges are large flat rocks that Spider assumes the Na’vi use to sit on. This must be one of their washing spaces. 

Jake sits down on a rock and gestures for Spider to join him. 

‘Okay,’ Jake says when Spider settles on the rock, crossing his legs and facing Jake. Jake opens his hands in front of Spider and presents a few objects. ‘They’re not exactly the most appropriate tools, but I think it’ll work well enough. So here’s a brush, some soap, and a knife.’ He points at each object respectively, and Spider raises an eyebrow at Jake because, duh. Spider knows what they are. Jake laughs. ‘Okay, yeah, but I’m trying to explain how it works. So when you’re shaving, the main things to keep in mind are that your blade must be as sharp as possible, and your lather must be as thick as you can get it. Humans have something called shaving foam, but we’ll make do with using this brush.’ Jake puts the blade to the side and takes the bar of soap- a cleansing wax with a couple of extra ingredients that Spider has never figured out. Neytiri always makes it herself. Jake dips the soap in the water and takes the brush, one that looks like it wouldn’t do a thing for hair, but is more like a really rough and bristly paintbrush. He scrubs the brush onto the soap, making quick little circles until the soap begins to lather, tiny bubbles clinging to the brush’s bristles. 

Spider doesn’t realise he’s watching it closely until Jake chuckles. ‘Yeah, this is soap, bud. You should make friends with it, it might do you some good.’ 

‘Shut up,’ Spider says, but he suddenly feels a bit self conscious. He must smell awful. 

Jake huffs another laugh. ‘Okay, there,’ he says, satisfied with the foam he’s created. ‘So, the next part is that we need to put it on your face, and then use the blade to shave the hair.’

‘Why do I need the soap, why can’t I just use the knife?’ 

Jake cringes. ‘You don’t want to, trust me. It gets really uncomfortable if you don’t.’

Spider doesn’t get it, but he supposes that Jake would know better. Either way, he’s not going to argue.

‘So you’re going to have to take off your mask,’ Jake says.

Oh. Right. Spider should have known this was coming. 

‘Take your time,’ Jake says. ‘And do it when you’re ready. As soon as it’s off, I’ll put the soap on, and then start with the knife. You just let me know when you need to take a breath, okay? I’ll do it first, and then if you want to try, you can.’

Spider nods. Don’t get scared. Don’t even think about it. Just take the mask off. Spider ignores how his hand shakes when he reaches for the release latch. He takes a deep breath and pulls the mask off in one motion. 

Jake is quick, brushing on the soap in one swipe and then snatching the knife and bringing it to Spider's skin. 

Oh. Oh no. Spider wasn’t prepared for that. It’s stupid, it’s so stupid because Jake said he was going to do this, and Spider knew   about it, but the feeling of the knife against his skin flash-bangs him with fear, and he’s suddenly in Neytiri’s grip again, and the knife is at his throat, and he can’t move, and she’s going to cut him, Jake is going to cut him--

Spider gasps as he yanks himself backwards, and that is so stupid because his mask is still in his hand, and the air burns all the way down. Spider coughs, and it hurts, and before he can try and get a grip on his body he gasps again. It hurts, it hurts. 

‘Spider!’ 

The mask is on his face and the latch is pressed, the seal forming and Spider’s next gasp is his air. He coughs, and he can feel Jake pressing the mask to his face even though it’s already sealed, and Jake’s other hand on his back. 

‘Just breathe, you’re okay. I’ve got you.’ 

Spider breathes, he focuses on one of Jake’s star spots on his shoulder, rising and falling with Jake’s own breaths. His chest aches, and Spider folds forward to press his face to his crossed ankles. Jake lets go of him and waits. 

Finally, Spider sits up. ‘Sorry,’ he says, and his voice is hoarse. 

‘You don’t have to apologise, it was my fault,’ Jake says. ‘ I’m sorry. I should have-- I didn’t even think about… I’m sorry.’ 

Spider steels himself. ‘Okay, again.’ 

‘Wait, you don’t have to--’

Spider pulls in a breath and takes his mask off. This time, as Jake re-applies the soap and takes the knife, Spider keeps his eyes on Jake’s face. He looks at the cluster of star spots below Jake’s right eye, at the way Jake’s eyes flick over Spider’s face. He looks at the furrow between Jake’s brow. 

He stays still. He doesn’t move. He ignores the feeling of the blade on his skin. Focus on Jake. Jake, who is trying to help Spider. Who keeps trying to help Spider, even though Spider doesn’t need helping. Even though Spider doesn’t deserve help. 

Spider’s chest lurches. 

Jake curses and immediately snatches the mask from Spider’s hand to press it back over his face. ‘You have to tell me when you need to breathe,’ he says as Spider gasps. ‘Jeez, kid,’ Jake sighs. ‘Well, you did great. I was almost finished.’ 

Spider nods, and is quick to take his mask off again, determined to hold his breath until Jake is finished. 

It feels harder this time, at first. It’s seconds, but Spider feels like it’s hours. His whole body hurts, and his heartbeat sounds so loud in his ears but he will not give in until Jake is finished.

But... but Jake takes his chin gently in his fingers, tipping Spider's face this way and that. He's slow with the knife, too, after Spider had been so jumpy, and his slowness makes Spider somehow feel slightly settled. Spider closes one eye when Jake gets to his temple, and Jake brushes away some of the soap suds with his thumb, and Spider's skin tingles where Jake touches. It's so gentle, and Spider feels embarassment burn at his cheeks realising that he had overreacted so much before. Of course Jake wasn't going to hurt him like Neytiri did... right? 

The feeling of the brush tickling over his face, Jake's warm hands, and the slip of the knife down, down, down, lulls Spider, and for a moment the birds aren't too loud and the air isn't too cold. It's nice, it's... safe.

‘Okay, there,’ Jake says, lifting Spider’s hand that holds his mask so Spider can put it on himself this time. 

Spider does, and tries not to gasp too desperately.

‘Good job,’ Jake says. ‘I’m pretty sure I got all of it. Have a feel.’ 

Spider runs his fingers over his jaw as Jake turns to rinse the knife off in the lake. It’s so smooth that Spider wouldn’t have known there was any hair there to begin with. 

‘Woah,’ he says. 

‘What can I say, I’m pretty good with a blade,’ Jake says with a smile. ‘Happy?’ 

Spider frowns. He doesn’t really know how to answer that question. ‘Yeah,’ he says. Jake puts a hand to Spider’s head, ruffling his hair.

‘Good,’ Jake says, and Spider catches Jake’s eyes for a moment. That strange expression is back again, and it makes Spider nervous. 

‘We should get back,’ Jake says, and Spider realises that it’s very nearly completely dark. Jake stands, and he waits for Spider to follow. 

Spider really should have learnt to go slower by now. As soon as he stands, the dizziness hits him so hard that he almost topples into the water. 

‘Woah,’ Jake says, catching Spider by the arm. ‘Easy, kid. Held your breath a bit too long there, I think. Next time we’ll take it slower, okay?’ 

‘ ‘Kay,’ Spider says, focussing on trying to stop the world from spinning. It doesn’t stop. Spider feels sick. 

‘Oh boy, okay,’ Jake is saying. Spider feels himself being lifted suddenly. The motion makes the spinning worse, and Spider bites back a groan. He tries to shut his eyes, but that doesn’t help at all, and instead he presses his face to Jake’s shoulder, trying to focus on Jake’s spots where his skin presses against the mask. Spider's legs are around Jake’s waist, and he weakly grips Jake’s arms as Jake begins to walk them back to the hut. ‘When was the last time you ate?’ Jake says, quietly.

‘Today.’

‘When was the last time you drank water?’

‘... Yesterday morning.’

Jake makes a disapproving sound. ‘You’re eating and drinking when we get back. It wasn’t a good idea to do that while you’re dehydrated.’ 

‘Sorry,’ Spider says.

‘Don’t--’ Spider stiffens when it sounds like Jake is angry. Jake pauses, and then sighs. ‘It’s fine.’ 

As the dizziness begins to pass, shame begins to curdle in Spider’s gut. After everything he’d done today, all the hours he spent working, all he’d managed to do was make a useless bowl, a couple of plain ropes and then make Jake carry him because he’d forgotten to drink water. 

Pathetic. 

Jake will never forgive Spider if he keeps screwing up like this. He’ll do better. He has to do better. 

Chapter Text

When Jake wakes up the next morning, lingering off the back of a cruelly sweet dream is the fact that Neteyam is dead. Between the soft, sleeping breaths of his family, the space where Neteyam should be is a cavernous emptiness that Jake's mind prods at like a missing tooth. Jake presses a hand to his diaphragm, where an ache rises, and he pushes down, down, until eventually the pain lessens.

When he opens his eyes, he tries to be glad that everyone else is still here. Everyone else is still okay.

Well...

Jake looks to Spider’s sleeping mat. Even though the morning has barely taken its first breath, Spider has already gone. His mat is rolled up neatly against the hut wall, as though he was trying to pretend he hadn’t been there at all. Jake lowers his head back down, groaning softly as the familiar dread seeps back in. 

‘What is it, Ma Jake?’ Neytiri whispers beside him, turning over to look at him under sleep-heavy eyelids. 

‘Spider’s gone,’ he says, rubbing at his eyes with the heel of his hand. ‘I’m going to have to go and find him.’

Neytiri tsks lightly. ‘You worry about him too much. Leave him for now, he will come back when he feels like it.’

‘There’s something he’s hiding,’ Jake says, turning to face her. ‘I don’t like the way he’s flinching all the time.’

‘I told you!’ Kiri says suddenly, sitting up from the other side of Tuk. 

‘Kiri, it’s rude to eaves drop--’

‘Told them what?’ Lo’ak interrupts Jake, also sitting up as he rubs at his eyes.

‘That something’s wrong with Spider. Tell me you’ve noticed it, too.’

Lo’ak looks to Spider’s sleeping mat, quiet for a moment. ‘He’s been acting weird, but I thought it was just because… actually, I didn’t really think of why.’

Kiri scoffs. ‘Typical,’ she mumbles, before turning back to Jake. ‘But you've seen it, Dad? He’s different.’

Jake sighs, throwing his arm over his face. ‘There’s something going on, but I’m just not sure how to get through to him.’

'Guys, shush,' Tuk whines, pressing her hands to her ears and burying her face into Jake's side.

As Jake smooths his hand down Tuk's back, the image of Spider’s face after Jake had tried to hug him presents itself in Jake’s mind, and with it Jake’s stomach twists uncomfortably. It was the same look Spider got when Jake pressed the knife to Spider’s face last night. It was a fearful look, definitely, but there was more than that to it. It’s uncomfortably familiar. He hopes Spider is just being standoffish, he’s still recovering from the morgue, and he’s probably just as on edge as everyone else is after the battle.

But deep down Jake knows that that’s not all there is to it. He recognises the flinching, the emptiness in Spider’s panicked looks, like he’s not even there. That, and the fact that Spider’s sense of self-preservation is gone, the way he foregos food and water, not even putting up a fight when he’s bound and captured makes dread pool in the back of Jake’s mind, heavy and still like an opaque lake that he can’t see clearly through. Jake doesn’t know what he’s scared of, but that feeling that something is going to go wrong, like he’s standing at the edge of a cliff, won't leave him alone. 

Jake gets up from the sleeping mat and resolves to go and find Spider, pulling away from Neytiri who tries to keep him with her, and pacifying Kiri and Lo’ak who try to come with him. Jake gets the feeling that whatever he’s going to do when he finds Spider, it’s going to be something he needs to do alone with him, having others there will only complicate things. 

Jake makes his way through the village, keeping an eye out for a bright interruption of the blue-green colours of the island that might be Spider. It takes Jake a long time, searching first where he’d found Spider yesterday weaving the ropes, then moving closer to the centre of the village before remembering that Spider would have unlikely gone this way on his own. Jake picks up his pace as he searches out the back of the village. Spider isn’t at the lake, or at the river, he’s not in the orchard or the gardens. Jake goes back to the shore and by the time he reaches the end with still no sign of Spider, Jake is running.

He does another lap of the village, and then, breathless, comes to a stop on the other side of the village a small ways away. Fear has settled sharply into Jake’s chest, and his heart thunders against his ribs. He spins on his heels, scanning, scanning--

There's a moment, just an instant, where Jake thinks he sees- it can't be, but- Neteyam. It's a blue shawl that had been hung up to dry, and Jake is such an idiot, but for just a moment, just one second, he thought he saw him. It brings him to a halt, gasping for breath and his head spinning. He feels tears prick to his eyes and, knowing he's in public, quickly scrubs at his face with his wrist.

Jake tries to force himself to get it together, but one single sob bursts from his chest becuase, god, he misses his little boy so much. How is he supposed to do this without him, do anything without him? How can it be fair that Neteyam's short, beautiful life is already over, and Jake still has to live out the rest of his?

Jake bites the inside of his cheek, his sharp canines cutting at it so metallic blood blooms on his tongue. He looks back at the shawl, and stares at it until there's no trace of Neteyam left in it. Jake flexes his hands, the sun suddenly uncomfortably hot on his skin.

And he needs to find Spider. Just focus on that.

Jake spots the morgue just a few metres from him. Jake dashes over to it, throwing open the cage door which has been left unlocked and leaping inside.

Spider isn’t here, either. 

Jake curses, raking his fingers through his hair. The smell of death and sickness still lingers here, not as strong as before but enough to turn Jake’s fear swiftly into nausea. Jake backs out of the hut, trying to breathe deeply. 

Jake can’t believe that Spider had been locked there for so long. After everything… 

Jake remembers how Spider had leant into his touch last night at the lake, the way Spider trusted Jake in that moment, the tiny smile on Spider’s face when Jake had cracked a joke. Even that was a far cry from the boy they’d pulled from this rancid hut. Jake’s heart had leapt when he’d seen that small, fragile smile, and for a moment Jake had felt like he did with his kids, that same warmth. 

He would be a fool if he said he wasn’t terrified of what that means. 

And where is he?!

Jake takes off to search the village again.

Spider had known at the time that it was stupid to stay up all night, and as the sun reaches its zenith and the heat once again becomes suffocating, Spider figures out that he probably couldn’t have been more right. Spider grips the net in his hands, his vision swimming and his skin siering as he stands at the edge of the surf. He’d spent the night finishing the net, his fingers are rubbed raw from the weaving and his arms ache fiercely from the tight knots he’d used to make the net. 

The labour had kept the guilt at bay. After Jake had carried him back to the hut, he had watched as Spider ate and drank water. Spider had sat with the Sullys after supper, his skin pricking at the discomfort of their normalcy, as though he was an expected part of the evening.

When the Sullys retired to bed, Spider had laid down on his mat. Exhaustion had pulled him under quickly, but it was no time at all before he was lurching awake, sweating and gasping from the blood and fire that left his nightmares tasting of ash on his tongue. 

Sleep did not come to him again, and Spider didn’t wait for it.

When morning arrived, Spider had watched the fishermen go out, and he studied them in the reef as they slung their nets and pulled in heavy loads of fish. By the time the fishermen had come back, Spider had gone. 

Managing to find a secluded spot on the ocean barrier, Spider tried and tried to master the tossing the fishermen had done as he watched. His net was crude and uneven, though, and the exertion needed to throw and retrieve it was not something Spider had in ample supply. 

Every time he had thought to stop, though, Jake’s disappointed face surfaced in his mind, and Spider forced his body to move again. If nothing else, he would help bring in some food. He could do that away from the Metkayina, on his own. 

He should have known better. By now, his body aches so severely he is starting to lose feeling in his hands and feet. It’s getting hard to breathe, but he keeps going. On the next throw, he loses his footing on the rock and hits the water. The shock of the cold locks his limbs, and it makes him gasp reflexively. 

He tries to keep his head above that water and keep ahold of his net, but his legs tangle in it as he kicks, and he starts to sink.

‘No, no, come on,’ Spider says. He pulls on the net, but he’s somehow put his foot through it and he’s so exhausted by the effort it would take to pull it off that he lets go, watching his net float around his legs. 

Frustration bubbles up under Spider’s skin, and he knows that if he was in a better state he probably would be able to just brush this off and try again, but it’s been hours. How could he be so useless?

Suddenly a hand wraps around his bicep and pulls him up to the surface. Spider twists in the hold, finding that a Metkayina has grabbed him. They break the water, and Spider is hauled out onto the rock he’d been standing on. 

‘Sorry, I’m sorry, I wasn’t doing anything--’ Spider starts, raising his arms and bracing for a blow or a restraint of some kind. No blow comes, and Spider peaks through his arms at the Metkayina crouched in front of him. ‘Ngaire?’

‘Spider,’ Ngaire says, raising his fingers to his forehead to greet him. ‘I see you.’

Spider’s heart sputters, and he forgets to breathe for a second. He tries to shake it off, and he returns the greeting. 

‘Are you alright?’ Ngaire says, leaning to one side to get a look at Spider’s curled body. ‘I was returning to the reef when I happened to see you fall into the water.’ He gestures to the gap in the reef barrier where larger fishing expeditions are returning to Awa’atlu. ‘I have heard the forest people are not such good swimmers, but it seems you are not hurt?’

‘N-no, I’m not hurt. I’m fine.’ 

Ngaire spots the net tangled around Spider’s legs, and he takes Spider’s ankle and starts to tug the net off of him. 

‘I can do that!’ Spider says, pulling himself away. Ngaire lifts his hands so Spider can shuffle himself out of reach. Ngaire watches Spider as he pulls himself free from the net, and tosses it to the side, inwardly cursing it and his clumsy self. 

‘You look like you are feeling better than when I saw you last, pup,’ Ngaire says, a small smile on his face. 

Spider touches the scar across his chest. All the scab has gone, now, leaving only a raised white ridge left on his skin. ‘Yeah,’ Spider says. ‘Thank you… for helping me.’ 

Ngaire lowers his head in a slow nod. 

‘Where did you go?’ Spider asked, crossing his legs on the rock. 

‘I went to go and visit my sister,’ Ngaire says. ‘Her and her village are doing well in their rebuilding efforts.’

Spider winces inwardly. ‘That… that’s good.’ Spider swallows. ‘Did she… did she tell you anything else about me?’

Ngaire’s smile grows confused. ‘Is there something she should have told me?’

‘No, no, I… I was just wondering. It’s nothing,’ Spider says. 

Ngaire watches him for a while, and Spider feels his cheeks heat under his stare.

‘What?’ Spider says.

‘It is nothing.’ Ngaire says, and then he stands. ‘Come, I was on my way to find some food for the midday meal, maybe you should join me.’

Spider looks over to the village, apprehension growing. ‘I think I’d rather--’

‘I can help you repair your net,’ Ngaire interrupts. 

It’s unusual enough for Ngaire’s temperament that it knocks Spider off kilter. ‘Um, okay,’ he says. Ngaire leads Spider to where his skimwing is waiting nearby. They ride back to the village in silence, and Spider scans the pathways for the Metkayina that are busy around the shore where Ngaire brings them in. Ngaire dismounts easily and reaches a hand to Spider to pull him onto the pathway. 

Spider hesitates, the chatter nearby and the bustle of all the Metkayina making Spider’s heart start to thunder. Spider takes a deep breath and takes Ngaire’s hand. 

A few Metkayina notice him, and he catches a few scowls in his direction. Ngaire sees this, and frowns. ‘It seems not much else has improved since I left,’ he says. 

Spider hears Tonowari’s booming laugh from somewhere deeper in the village, and it feels like a bucket of ice water has been dumped over Spider, fear squeezing his chest and turning his legs to jelly.

‘I’m going to go and find Jake,’ Spider says, his throat feeling like sandpaper. Before Ngaire can protest, Spider dives back off of the pathway into the water, narrowly avoiding the skimwing. 

Spider fights the waves of the shoreline as he pushes his body to swim towards the edge of the village where the Sullys’ hut is. His limbs scream at him, his heartbeat in his ears, until he can’t go any further. He is pushed against a root of the Hometree, and he clings to it. He finds he’s not far from the hut, and it takes the rest of his strength to pull himself onto the pathway. He lies on his back, panting hard. He will just rest here for a moment, just until he can stand up again. Just a moment…

‘Spider!’ Spider flinches, and suddenly his vision is full of Jake’s face. ‘Christ, kid! I’ve been looking for you for hours! Where the hell have you been?’

Spider blinks. ‘Uh,’ he croaks. ‘Fishing.’

‘Fishing,’ Jake repeats. ‘Fishing.’ He groans, and comes to collapse on the path beside Spider. Jake lets his legs dangle over the edge, and he scrubs his hands over his face as Spider pushes himself to sit up. Jake sighs heavily as he drags his hands down his face, and his ears dip all the way down. ‘You didn’t sleep last night,’ Jake says. He doesn’t look at Spider, instead keeping his eyes steadily ahead towards the water.

It’s not a question, but Spider feels like he needs to answer. ‘No.’

‘And you didn’t eat this morning.’

‘No.’

Jake chews on his lip, his brows furrowing. ‘What the hell are you doing?’

‘What?’

Jake’s tail starts to flick, and apprehension grows in Spider when Jake speaks. ‘Look. There’s a reason why you’re running off in the middle of the night and doing all this crazy stuff. You’re hiding something from me.’

‘I’m not--’

‘You are. Spider,’ Jake turns to face Spider, and Spider suddenly feels very claustrophobic. ‘How am I supposed to trust you when you won’t tell me the truth? Something else happened while you were with the RDA that you’re not telling me.’

‘The RDA?’ Spider says, his voice drying up in his throat. 

‘There, see? Something’s wrong. Spider, what happened?’

‘I already told you, I didn’t tell them anyth--’

‘That’s not what I’m asking. 

‘Jake, stop,’ Spider says. ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’ Spider has a sudden feeling of wanting to go back to the lake with Jake, where Jake had been joking with him, and careful with him. Spider can feel the edges of his mind growing hot, he can feel himself getting closer to the memories that hurt him the last time. 

‘I’m not giving you an option. Spider, I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on in your head.’ 

You can’t help me even if you did, is what Spider does not say. Risking a glance at Jake’s face, Spider immediately recognises his expression. Jake’s stubborn, and the jut in his jaw is one he always got when arguing with Lo’ak and, no matter who was right or wrong, Jake was convinced he would win. Spider isn’t going to get out of this one. 

Spider swallows, and tries to keep his mind out of the places that felt too hot to touch.  ‘When... they were trying to get me to tell them where you were, they…’ Look at Jake. ‘They tried everything to get me to talk.’

Jake’s ears go flat. ‘What do you mean everything?’

‘I swear, I--’

‘Answer the question.’

‘There was a machine they had,’ Spider blurts. ‘They put me inside and-- and it could read my thoughts.’ Fear creeps over Spider’s chest, squeezing. Don’t think about it. Don’t let the panic in.

‘Did they hurt you?’ 

It’s a simple question. It’s so simple it really only needs Spider to say yes or no. They hurt him, of course they hurt him, but the thought of admitting that as though it could possibly excuse everything that he did, everything that he stood by and let happen, makes Spider feel sick. Spider had laughed while he was there, he had smiled. How could he have-

‘Spider.’ 

He wants to say no. He wants to pretend that it didn’t happen to him, that he wasn’t strapped down and locked up and watched through glass like a pathetic animal. He wants to pretend he was stronger, that he thought things through, that there was a reason that all of this happened to him. He wants to pretend that he got through all of that okay, because how on earth could Spider possibly deserve to feel hurt by all the suffering he caused? 

‘... yes,’ Spider admits, barely a whisper through his teeth. He’s horrified to find the admission alone is enough to bring tears to his eyes. He blinks until they go away. He can’t cry now. ‘Quaritch he… he got me away from the scientists, pretended to be nice to me, but he said if I tried to get away, or do something I wasn’t supposed to, then he would hurt me.’

Jake sucks in a breath through his teeth. There’s a long pause, and Spider feels it like knives against his skin. Eventually, Jake speaks again. ‘I know how Quaritch works,’ he says, slowly. ‘He makes you think you’re the only one he trusts, that you’re on his good side, until you’re not. He did it to me, too.’

‘You?’ Spider says. 

Jake shows his teeth, grimacing as he looks to the middle distance. ‘When I was human. He thinks you’re all on the same side if you are the same species, he can’t see anything else. He uses your fears against you. I didn’t think he’d do the same mind tricks to his own son.’ 

‘I’m not his son.’ It’s out of Spider before he can hold it back. 

‘Spider, I didn’t mean--’

‘Just shut up!’ Spider says, his body feeling taught like a spring pulled to its limit. ‘Why does it matter, why are you even asking me this? I already told you what I did!’

‘You left out quite a lot that first time, though,’ Jake says, and he sounds angry. Spider’s palms are sweating. 

‘So what? You got what you needed, what--’

‘You left out the part where they tortured you and threatened you into complying with them. You said you tried to stop them hurting the Na’vi, why didn’t you tell me about the rest of it?’

‘Because it doesn’t matter.’

Jake’s face falls. Spider, who had been expecting some sort of rebuttal, stops in his tracks. 

‘What? Why are you looking at me like that?’ he says, watching the space between Jake’s eyebrows start to furrow. 

‘Why do you say that it doesn’t matter?’ Jake says, and his voice is suddenly quiet. It sets Spider on edge, the question so unexpected it feels as though Spider has lost track of the conversation somewhere. He tries to replay it in his head, to see where he might have gone wrong, but it’s like he’s got two threads he can’t connect. 

‘Because it doesn’t,’ he says. ‘It doesn’t change anything.’

‘Yes, it does!’ 

Something acidic and burning pools in Spider’s stomach, and he feels the humiliating ache in his chest because he’s hurt by what Jake has said. He has no right to be hurt by it, he doesn’t deserve to be hurt by it, because Jake not understanding doesn’t negate the reality of the situation, the weight of Spider’s guilt. 

‘Oh yeah? Would you have still locked me away if you’d known?’ Spider spits, the pain in his chest turning his tongue venomous before he can stop to think. 

‘Locked you..?’ Jake’s ears go flat, and the frustration eases to something softer, something Spider suddenly can’t bear to look at. 

‘I’m trying as hard as I can, okay? I get it, you can’t have a monster causing more damage in your new home. You made your point. But what difference does it make what the humans did to me when I’m the problem?’

‘Spider, wait,’ Jake says, and Spider’s looking away from him but somehow it still hurts when Jake says his name.

‘I thought I was going to die in there,’ Spider says, and he winces in shame when his voice breaks when he says the word die. ‘And it was fine, I figured it was about time.’ Spider has to take a breath to stop his voice wobbling. Jake says his name again but Spider ignores it. ‘But you didn’t even come to tell me why.’ Jake hadn’t come to say goodbye, or to condemn Spider, or to explain, or anything. ‘So it doesn’t change anything.’ 

Jake makes an aborted movement, as though he wants to reach out and touch Spider, and Spider yanks himself out of Jake’s reach. 

‘We didn’t lock you away,’ Jake says. 

‘You did.’ 

‘Spider, we had no idea where you were until Ngaire came to find us. All that time… Spider, I thought you wanted space from us.’

Spider freezes, his whole body growing hot. ‘How could you think that?’ he says. He faces Jake this time and he finds himself searching Jake’s face for something, for anything that could make this make sense. What space could Spider have possibly have wanted? What more space could Spider have stood after all of that time he was so far away from home, from them?  

If the Sullys hadn’t left Spider there for a reason, then… 

Jake is looking back at him, and all Spider sees is hurt. Spider opens his mouth, wanting to shout and scream and swear until Jake never looks at him like that ever again.

How long would it have been before they even thought to look for him?

Spider clicks his mouth shut again. ‘Whatever,’ he says through his teeth. 

‘Spider--’ Jake is reaching out for Spider again, and Spider cannot stand the thought of getting any closer to Jake, so he takes a few steps away. ‘Spider, Kiri missed you so much--’

‘But what about you? Did you even--’ Spider swallows the question. It makes him feel sick. ‘I missed you, Jake. I was hoping you would come and find me before--’ Don’t say it. 

‘Before what?’ Jake says, slow and quiet. 

Don’t say it. 

‘Spider. Before what?’

Spider turns away. It’s getting hard to breathe.

‘You’re doing it again. Spider, just talk to me.’

Spider bites his tongue. Coward, coward, coward. 

Jake hadn’t locked him away to punish him, Jake had just forgotten about him. Spider had been pushing himself to breaking trying to earn forgiveness that was never an option. What else could Spider possibly lose now?

‘The tracker.’

‘The what?’ For once, it sounds like Jake is the one who has lost the conversation. ‘What are you talking about?’

Spider presses his fingertips to the visor. ‘They put a tracker in my mask. Said if I ran off, they’d know where to find me.’

‘Is… it still there?’

Spider nods. He curls, bracing for… for something. 

What he doesn’t expect is the shaft of a spear to slip down over his throat. Spider cries out as he is hoisted and lifted upwards, the pressure of the spear over his throat pinning his back to something hard.

‘I knew you were a traitor, demon,’ Tonowari hisses from behind Spider’s ear.

The world stops moving, Spider's heart stops beating. He struggles, trying to kick and squirm his way out of Tonowari’s hold, but Tonowari presses harder on the spear and Spider’s throat closes.

Jake is on his feet, tail lashing. ‘Tonowari, what are you--’

‘I told you that you are unwelcome in my village, demon. Yet you make yourself at home and wait for your sky people to come and destroy us?’ Tonowari barks, and his hot breath mists up Spider’s mask. ‘You will not take any more precious lives from us.’

‘Jake--’ Spider chokes. He tries to claw at the spear pole pressing against his neck, but his lungs are already screaming for air. Spider tries to take a breath, tries to ease the pressure just for one breath, but nothing comes, and nothing comes, and nothing comes--

‘Tonowari, put him down .’ Jake says. He’s lowering into a crouch.

Help me, Spider thinks. Jake, hurry. His limbs are losing strength as he struggles, the burning in his chest turning to a pulsing behind his eyes. 

‘I have taken your punches, Jake. I have taken your insults, and your fears. You know you are a brother to me. I would do anything for you, but I will not let my people die. ’ 

‘Please, Tonowari. He’s a child! ’ Jake says, and Spider cant take his eyes off of Jake, even as his vision starts to tunnel. ‘Didn’t you hear the rest? They tortured him into compliance, he’s a victim!’

Tonowari scoffs. 

Spider can’t hold his arms up anymore.

‘Stop, you’re killing him!’ 

‘And what would be the loss if he died?’

Spider doesn’t hear what happens next. Suddenly, the pressure is off and Spider falls and crumples to the ground, and he can breathe- he can breathe-

The coughs tear up Spider’s throat, painful and raw as he tries to pull in as much air as he can. He almost gags on the force of it. His head is spinning, but adrenaline pulls his numb limbs underneath him and he tries to get away. Spider’s heart is in his throat, and when he turns around he sees that Tonowari and Jake are in a stale-mate. Jake had tried to snatch Tonowari’s spear, but Tonowari is holding strong. Tonowari is trying to angle the spear blade down towards Spider but Jake, trembling with the effort, is trying to force the blade in the other direction.

Jake grunts, pushing Tonowari's spear up. 'You-- get away from him!'

Tonowari roars, and pushes Jake back a step. He's bigger than Jake, and Jake is starting to buckle under Tonowari's force.

Tonowari wants to kill Spider. 

Spider is on his feet, and suddenly the two Na’vi break apart. Tonowari looks at Spider, and the rage in his face fills Spider’s veins with ice.

Spider turns and runs. 

‘Spider!’

Spider can hear Tonowari behind him, the large footsteps gaining on Spider every second. 

Rocks and roots dig into Spider's feet as he sprints, but he can’t afford to step carefully. His mind is blank, only the sound of Tonowari chasing him keeps his body going. He needs to go faster- Tonowari is getting closer- he needs to go faster-

The forest swallows them, and Spider follows where the trees lead him, dodging the large roots of the Hometree that weave the island together. He prays for help, but he can’t bring himself to believe that anyone is listening. 

Faster. Go faster.

Spider leaps a fallen log, and only a couple of seconds behind he hears Tonowari land on its other side, but he stumbles on the uneven ground. A small blessing. 

Spider weaves between the trees, trying to find small holes in the thicket that will slow Tonowari down. He comes to a tree knocked over by strong wind, its canopy resting against the edge of the clifface that cups Awa'atlu. Without thinking Spider sprints up the trunk, his legs crouching to lower his centre of gravity as he uses the solid parts of the bark to keep his footing. Spider dives into the foliage, scrambling through the branches and pulling himself up- up- up-

The cliff face is jagged and made of layers of rock that have dissolved in the oceanic storms, and Spider shoves his fingers into the divots and cracks and pulls himself above the tree’s reach. 

Spider’s body is screaming at him, his limbs trembling with the effort of pulling himself up inch by inch. 

Spider hears Tonowari cry out behind him, and he turns to look. Tonowari is trying to follow Spider’s path up the tree’s trunk, but his foot slips and he barely holds on from plummeting to the ground. Tonowari’s large tail, perfect for propelling in water, is not suited to fine balance precision, and it knocks him again as he tries to stand. Tonowari is bigger than Spider, stronger, and fiercer, but Spider was born in the forest. 

Spider climbs more, having to stop to breathe, gasping and trying to calm his heart that slams against his ribs. When he turns around, Tonowari’s spear is pointed right at him from where he stands at the base of the tree. Could he reach Spider from there? There’s no way, there’s no way-

Tonowari roars, arching his whole body to leverage his throw. 

He could do it. Shit, he could-

Another roar, and Jake bursts through the forest and dives at Tonowari. Jake hits Tonowari around the waist, and they both tumble to the ground. The two men fight, Tonowari slamming his elbow into Jake’s ribs, and Jake getting a punch into Tonowari’s jaw. 

Spider tears his eyes away and starts climbing again. He’s so far off the ground now a fall would surely kill him. His arms and legs burn fiercely, and Spider clenches his jaw against the exhaustion that pulls at him, forcing his fingers not to weaken their grip, forcing his legs to push- push- push.

Near the top of the cliff, roots from the trees above jut out of the cliff face, and Spider uses them as leverage to pull himself to the top. Spider tumbles over the lip of the cliff, collapsing onto the soft grass that grows there. His chest is heaving, and the sound of Jake and Tonowari fighting below reaches him even here. Spider rolls away from the edge, coming to the base of a tree where he curls himself up, knees to his face. 

Spider knows there’s nothing on his throat this time, but it gets harder and harder to breathe. He clutches at his chest, the pain there, his heart- his lungs- his whole body- it feels like there’s hundreds of volts of electricity running through his body and he only has seconds before it kills him. Something is going to kill him.

Spider recognises the feeling this time, he’s having a panic attack again.

Spider squeezes his knees to his chest, the sound of the fighting below the cliff has stopped and Spider feels sick- what if Jake-- What if Tonowari killed J--

‘Spider!’ Spider gasps, flinching back against the tree as he sees Jake pulling himself up over the cliff edge.

‘Jake,’ Spider croaks, relief almost bringing him to tears. ‘Jake, I’m sorry, I--’

‘Are you okay? You-- Spider, breathe,’ Jake crawls closer to Spider, but he stops in reaching distance. ‘It’s okay now, Tonowari’s unconscious, he’s not coming for you anymore.’ Jake holds out a hand. ‘Breathe, remember? Like I showed you.’

It’s just an open hand, it’s just Jake crouching in front of him, but Spider suddenly feels as though Jake has given him a lifeline, Spider grabs Jake’s hand and Jake, as though he was waiting for it, pulls Spider right to him. He presses Spider’s palm to his chest, Jake’s other hand reaching to the back of Spider’s neck and holding him close. 

‘That’s it, breathe. I know you can do it, bud.’ 

Spider tries, his breath escaping him still as he curls against Jake. Just like at the lake, Spider feels safe.  

Of course, it only lasts a moment before the ground below them crumbles, and they fall.

Chapter Text

In one moment, Spider is curled in Jake’s arms, trembling and holding on to Jake as though Jake was the only thing keeping him together, and then Spider is ripped from his embrace. It happens so fast that only seconds later can Jake process the order of events.

First, the ground had crumbled below them. Spider had been light enough on his own, but the days of endless heat with no rain had made the ground dry and brittle.

Next, Spider had slipped from Jake’s grip. Desperately, Spider had reached for something to grab onto, and his arm had been trapped by the wrist at a fork in the tree roots jutting out from the disintegrating cliff. 

Finally, Spider had caught Jake’s arm just as Jake had begun to fall away. 

Which left them now, dangling a nauseating distance from the ground with Spider’s body trembling with the effort of holding Jake’s weight. 

For a moment they just stare at each other, surprised that somehow they were both still alive. 

Spider’s palm grows sweaty where he’s gripping Jake’s wrist, and Spider’s arm is dwarfed by Jake’s own hand. For someone who is much taller than Jake ever was when he was human, Spider suddenly seems so, so small to Jake. 

‘I got you,’ Spider says, and Jake wishes he hadn’t spoken at all because the pain in his voice brings Jake’s wandering mind crashing back down to the terrible moment. Holding Jake’s entire weight is hurting Spider. As strong as Spider once was, fever and starvation had sapped his strength, and Jake realises that Spider won’t be able to hold Jake up for long. 

Jake looks to the cliffside in front of him. If he can just find the handholds he used to get up in the first place, then he can climb up and get to Spider and pull him from the tree root. Unfortunately the ground had given way unevenly below them, and the root that Spider’s arm is caught in is far from the path they’d taken up. Jake reaches for the cliff face but the roots here are so thick and numerous that they disrupt the rock layers, which crumble under his hands. 

Spider, noticing this at the same time as Jake, calls his name. ‘Just- just climb up, you can reach the top,’ Spider says, trying to pull Jake’s hand over to the strap at his waist that holds his respirator. ‘Hold on here--’ Spider cries out as his strength gives and Jake drops a couple more inches-- ‘hurry!’

‘No, if I do that I could hurt you,’ Jake says. 

‘That doesn’t matter,’ Spider says. ‘Jake, quickly, I can’t hold on for much--’

Jake drops another couple of inches, and Spider screams so loudly it tears Jake’s chest clean in two. 

‘Spider-- Spider! What’s--’ Jake’s voice dies in his throat when he sees it. Spider’s arm trapped in the tree has come out of its socket. 

Spider is gasping for breath, and Jake sees tears fall from his eyes as he screws them shut. He bites down on his lip, and Jake sees blood begin to bloom there.

‘Jake, please,’ Spider says, his voice utterly ruined. ‘I can’t do this-- I-I can’t -- nng-!’ Spider curls, his legs raising as he seizes in pain. He opens his eyes, and locks them with Jake. 

Jake’s heart all but stops. Spider’s tears are landing on the visor of his mask, and he is looking at Jake with such desperation it’s as if this is the only thing that Spider has ever had the threat of losing. But, Jake realises, that couldn’t be further from the truth. Spider, who had once been a blazing furnace of life and love, has somewhere along the line lost, and lost, and lost. In the last burning embers, while Jake was not looking, Spider had crystalised into someone so afraid of losing anything else, he would risk anything to keep it. 

That, Jake thinks as his heart plummets down, down, down, is the boy he hadn’t recognised days before. The Spider he had once known was gone, replaced by a boy with broken parts in all the same places as Jake. 

Jake has to close his eyes. How cruel. 

‘Spider. Let me go.’ Jake says it flatly, locking away the emotion from his words and keeping his voice as level as he could. ‘It’s okay. I’ll be fine.’ 

‘Nng- no! ’ Spider wails, and he tries to hold onto Jake even tighter. Jake can feel Spider trembling as his shoulder starts to tear, and Spider seizes up again. 

‘You have to. You can’t hold me, I’m too heavy. Just let me go.’

‘I can’t! Jake, please--’ Jake feels Spider’s grip starting to weaken, even as his fingers wrap even tighter around Jake’s wrist. ‘I can’t.’

‘Spider, look at me,’ Jake says, and through his tears Spider does. Spider’s chest is heaving, he’s gasping for breath. ‘I promise, you’ll be okay.’ Jake reaches up, slowly enough that he doesn’t swing on Spider’s shoulder any more, and starts to pry Spider’s fingers off of his wrist. 

‘Jake-- No! Jake, don’t, please-- ’ Spider is crying, begging Jake so desperately his voice breaks with it. Jake’s heart shatters into tiny pieces as he pulls at Spider’s fingers.

Spider screams again, curls his legs up, and kicks off the cliff-face. His hand slips from the branch, and they’re falling. 

‘No-!’ Jake yells, but it’s too late. He twists, the foliage of the canopy rushing towards them. They have a few seconds at best. 

Jake might be able to survive this if he lands right, but Spider definitely won’t. 

‘You stupid boy,’ Jake says, but the wind rushing past them is too loud for Spider to hear. Quickly, Jake twists his hand in Spider’s grip and takes Spider’s arm. Jake pulls Spider to his chest, managing to wrap his arms around Spider just as they hit the leaves. 

Spider clings to Jake, and his screams are lost to the sound of them crashing through the foliage. 

Jake does his best to keep his back to the floor, to keep Spider up, to keep Spider safe but a large branch hits Jake right at the nape of his queue, and the pain is so intense it pulls him under immediately. 

‘... here. Oh, no…’

Spider’s return to consciousness is like clawing his way through treacle. By the time he fights his way through the depths and his senses slowly return, his body is left shaking with exhaustion. Pain greets him like an old friend, and his shoulder screams at him. Spider tries not to groan in response, but a whine slips out anyway. 

‘There you are, pup. It’s okay, you can wake up.’

Spider knows that voice. If he weren’t so dizzy from pain, he’d open his eyes. As it is, Spider slowly moves his fingers on his uninjured arm, and he realises he’s lying on top of someone.

Oh. They’d fallen from the cliff. Spider opens his eyes and jerks, trying to sit up because, if they’d fallen because he had been so stupid, then Jake--

Jake is lying below Spider, motionless. Spider’s heart stops. 

‘No… no, no, no…’ 

Sitting up is so painful Spider almost vomits right there, but he bites down and cradles his dislocated arm to his chest as he gets to his knees. He’s stradling Jake’s body, and suddenly he’s back in the morgue again, and it's one more dead Na’vi below him, and he can’t really breathe because this isn’t just another Na’vi, it’s Jake. Jake can’t be- he can’t be-

A hand lands on his injured shoulder and Spider flinches so violently he falls off of Jake, landing on his side into the soft earth. 

‘Sorry, Spider,’ Ngaire says, and Spider is surprised at how relieved he is to see him. 

‘Ngaire,’ Spider says, fighting the tears that erupt from the pain of his shoulder and the fear that threatens to choke him. ‘Please, you have to help him.’

Ngaire smiles at him, but it doesn’t seem entirely happy. ‘Jake Sully will be okay, you need not be so afraid.’

‘But--!’

Jake groans quietly between them, and his eyes blink open.

‘ Jake ,’ Spider breathes, pulling himself over to Jake’s head. ‘Jake, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.’

Jake’s eyes don’t focus for a moment, and he looks confused as he stares up at the trees above them. When Jake’s eyes finally land on Spider, the confusion clears. ‘Oh, thank god,’ Jake says with a sigh. Jake lifts a hand to cup the back of Spider’s head, Spider’s whole body floods with so much relief that he is dizzy with it. Jake’s face screws up in pain and he grunts softly. ‘That was stupid, Spider.’ 

‘I know, I’m sorry.’ Spider can’t stop shaking. ‘Are you okay?’

Jake sighs again, staring straight up at the canopy. The dappled sunlight falls onto his face the way the Omatikaya had evolved for, Jake’s stripes breaking his silhouette against the foliage below him, and Spider’s heart aches for the Hallelujah Mountains, for home. ‘I’m okay, I think,’ Jake says. His eyes flick over Spider, lingering on Spider’s shoulder. He seems satisfied that Spider isn’t hurt, or at least hurt badly. Only then does Jake notice Ngaire sitting on his other side. ‘You,’ Jake says. 

Ngaire greets him politely. 

‘Where’s Tonowari?’ Jake says, urgency tightening his voice, and he tries to push himself to a sitting position. It looks like it’s painful.

‘He has been taken back to the village to recover,’ Ngaire said. ‘I saw you all run into the forest, but unfortunately I did not make it in time to help with all of… this.’ He gestures to Spider and Jake. 

Jake sighs. ‘Okay.’ He looks at Spider. ‘Are you okay?’

‘I’m fine.’ It’s out before Spider gives himself a chance to really think about it.

Jake closes his eyes, and his brows furrow. ‘You’re not fine,’ he says, like he’s correcting a child on their grammar. ‘I told you to let go of me. You could have been seriously hurt, or worse.’

‘I know. I…’ Spider says, trailing off when it feels like a stone has lodged itself painfully in his throat. He feels like a frayed wire, sparking and jumping and raw. He can’t seem to get his thoughts straight enough to speak properly, other than an overwhelming cacophony of alarm bells that makes it difficult to even try. Tonowari tried to kill him. Jake had come for him, Jake had protected him. They’d fallen off the cliff, and somehow neither of them died. ‘I just… couldn’t.’ 

Jake doesn’t reply immediately. Instead, his eyes drift downwards to where the scar that Neytiri had given Spider shines red, irritated and fragile. Spider sees an expression so miserable pass over Jake’s face that it makes Spider’s chest ache too. Jake touches the scar that traces over his own chest, one that Spider had noticed before but not recognised, assuming it had come from a battle Jake had faced somewhere along the way while Spider had been with the RDA. Now, Spider thinks it must have been from something different, something that hurts Jake to think about. 

‘I know,’ Jake says finally. He says it like he agrees, but it is so sad that Spider can’t be sure.

Spider squeezes his arm closer to his side, holding himself together, because what Jake sounds like he’s saying and what he’s actually saying could be different. Spider doesn’t think he can take any more blows, it might ruin him. 

‘Let me help you up, Jake Sully.’ Ngaire is quiet enough that it’s respectful to the conversation, but direct enough to remind Spider that they can’t sit here on the ground forever. 

Jake takes Ngaire’s outstretched hand and gets to his feet, groaning on his way up. He puts a hand to the back of his head, and Spider’s relieved when no blood comes away on his fingers. ‘That’s going to smart tomorrow,’ Jake says. 

Ngaire has to hold onto Jake’s arm to keep him steady as he sways, and Spider’s heart lurches. Spider tries to stand, in case Jake falls and he needs help, but the movement jostles his shoulder and the pain is so intense that Spider collapses back onto the ground, biting his tongue to stop himself making a sound. It’s all he can do to sit and breathe through it until the pain reduces to a strong throbbing.

‘... his arm, the joint’s come out of his shoulder,’ Jake is saying to Ngaire, and Spider hadn’t noticed his hearing had faded. 

Ngiare clicks his tongue. ‘I can take him on my back, but it would be difficult to support you both.’

‘I can walk,’ Spider says, his voice hoarse from how tight his throat is. He takes a few breaths, and he holds his arm to his side as tightly as he can as he stands up. It hurts, it really, really hurts, but he manages it. 

‘You going to be okay?’ Jake askes, sounding like he already knows the answer.

‘I’m fine,’ Spider says, hoping that Jake will just accept that rather than make Spider speak more. Every time he opens his mouth the threat of vomiting gets a little higher. 

Jake looks at Spider’s shoulder, and back to his face. ‘If you faint, so help me.’ 

Spider clamps his jaw shut, and nods minutely. Even that sends fire over his chest and back and throat. Spider breathes deeply through his nose, the respirator hissing loudly. Ngaire pulls Jake’s arm over his shoulders and they turn to walk back towards the village. They’re not far, it shouldn’t be more than an hour’s walk. Spider can do this. 

Jake is angry. As they walk through the forest back to the village, it’s notable that all of Ngaire’s attempts at light conversation have fallen dead on the ground. 

Jake feels a little bit guilty for enforcing this awkward silence, but he is focussing on the sound of Spider’s feet behind them, noting every falter and hesitation, every stifled gasp. His head is throbbing behind his eyes, making the world tilt with every step and while Ngaire is doing a good job at keeping them both upright over the uneven forest floor, Jake gets frustrated with it quickly. 

Above all, though, he’s angry at Spider. Well, no, that’s not quite right. He’s angry about Spider. How could he have missed it? How could he have seen it all and still not known? Spider’s been holding his hurt so close to his chest that it took them having to get this bad for Jake to notice. Even now, Jake wishes he wasn’t hearing Spider trying to keep his balance and manage his pain behind them, he wishes he could turn around and scoop Spider up and carry him all the way back home the way he used to do when Neteyam got tired after a day out in the forest.

Jake grits his teeth against the grief that rises as reliable as the tide, at the thought of Neteyam. Jake would never be able to hold Neteyam like that again. The irony is not lost on him, however, that his thoughts on Spider lead so seamlessly to Neteyam. Why would that be, except…

Like a fog clearing to reveal an incoming hurricane, Jake realises that perhaps the irony sits with him alone. Spider has grown up beside his family, loved them endlessly, and remains here with them after everything. It’s not ironic at all. Netyam, Spider, Lo’ak, Kiri, and Tuk. Inseparable as they are, and…  and Sullys stick together.

Shame pools in Jake’s gut as they approach the edge of the village. He should have known, he should have seen it. He had willfully ignored Spider’s flinches, turned away from Spider’s sadness, accepted Spider’s distance as comfortable. He let Spider slip so far away as though Spider was nothing to him.

How could you think that?

Jake sighs. 

Ngaire cocks his head towards Jake. ‘You have a heavy mind, Jake Sully?’ he says, his voice quiet. 

Jake glances over their shoulders. Spider has fallen further behind, his steps slowing. 

‘Did you know about him? Did he tell you about what the humans did to him?’

Ngaire considers this for a moment. ‘Spider didn’t say much when I was guarding him. Mainly, he asked after you. That being said, I have just returned from visiting my sister. She told me how he cried when the Avatars razed their village, how they pulled at him when he struggled. She said that at the time they’d assumed he was with them, and she only realised long after they’d gone that he seemed more like their prisoner.’ 

Jake clenches his jaw against the fresh wave of anger. If Quaritch were still alive, he’d kill him all over again for this. 

‘Why did you help him like you did, then, if you hadn’t known this at the time?’ 

Ngaire goes quiet for a while, and Jake thinks for a moment that it is revenge for all the topics Jake had let die so far, until he speaks, his voice even quieter. ‘I told Spider it was because of my soft spot for children. It is not entirely a falsehood, but it was actually the look in his eyes that last time I had restrained him. It was the same look our most haunted warriors wear when they return from battle.’ Ngaire looks back at Spider briefly, keeping the glance subtle. ‘It was easy to see that he had been wounded.’ He taps his chest with his fingers. ‘Not just the flesh, but deeper, and from this he will struggle to recover. I felt as though, with his trauma, he could not be so threatening anymore. Against my best judgement, I felt pity for him.’

Ngaire had used a word for trauma that meant a heavy weight, but Jake knew exactly what Ngaire was implying. 

How could Ngaire have seen it so clearly when Jake hadn’t?

‘We are here,’ Ngaire announces, the roots of the Hometree revealing the pathways of the village. The sound of cookfires becoming busy with evening meal preparations floated to greet them.

Jake turned around, finding that Spider was nowhere to be seen. For a moment, panic lurched in Jake’s chest, until he strained his ears and caught the sound of Spider’s respirator. He was a little ways away still, but still moving. 

By the time Spider made it to them, his pale complexion Jake had worried about when they set off had sunk into a pallor that highlighted the sweat that rolled off of his brow. His breathing was shallow.

‘Hey, kid. Slow down, take a breath,’ Jake says, and Spider does not respond. 

Jake feels Ngaire stiffen under his arm. 

‘Spider, hey,’ Jake says, and he pulls away from Ngaire just as Spider reaches where they are standing, noticing that Spider wasn’t going to stop before he hit them. 

Jake is about to put a hand out to Spider when something catches on Spider’s foot, and he crumples forward. Jake dives for him, the world spinning violently as he moves too quickly, but somehow he catches him. Jake’s grabbed him under his chest, and the impact makes Jake wince in sympathy when Spider’s stomach heaves and he gags on the pain. ‘Dammit, Spider, I said--’

‘I’m fine, I’m fine, not fainting,’ it’s so quiet that Jake almost doesn’t hear it at all. Spider’s eyes are glazed over, half lidded as he stares straight ahead. 

Spider struggles weakly, trying to get his feet underneath him. His body is taught, the arm holding his shoulder still is trembling as his knuckles turn white where he grips at his skin. 

‘Stop. Spider, stop.’ Spider doesn’t stop. ‘Hey, can you hear me?’ Jake snaps his fingers in front of where Spider’s face is hanging towards the floor. 

‘I’m fine… not gonna faint…’

‘Ma Eywa,’ Jake says, his heart constricting. ‘This wasn’t what I meant…’ 

‘He is in some sort of trance,’ Ngaire says, crouching beside them. Gently, he lifts Spider’s face the bottom of his mask to look at him. ‘Is it a survival mechanism?’ 

‘Not a very good one,’ Jake says, noticing that Spider’s skin feels ice cold. ‘I think he’s gone into shock.’ Jake curses, and the pain in his head spikes as punishment for moving so fast. ‘Alright, I made a mistake again. Sorry, kid.’ Jake makes sure to hold Spider’s shoulder as still as he can as he pulls Spider into his chest. Spider responds this time, wrapping his legs around Jake’s waist and pressing his head to Jake’s shoulder to curl around his cradled arm. Jake holds Spider with one arm, and with the other asks Ngaire to help him to his feet. 

Against his chest, Spider slowly warms back up, and he goes quiet as they walk. He smells like sweat and earth, so familiar to Jake in a way only a child can be that it stokes something fierce in him. 

It’s that fierceness that, when they stumble into the Sullys family hut and Neytiri who, so wild with worry over Jake that she lashes out at Spider, Jake twists Spider away from her and shields him. 

‘I should have known that it was that demon who put you in danger,’ she spits, baring her teeth. ‘Put it down, get it out of here so I can treat you.’

Spider is tense against Jake, and Jake can feel him start to tremble. Spider arches his back, trying to get Jake to drop him. Jake holds on even tighter.

‘Spider stays with me,’ Jake says. The world is swimming, and Ngaire lowers him to sit on the floor as though he could tell how Jake was struggling. 

‘Ma Jake--’

‘Why is it that you can find the good in me, who was once human, and not him?’ Jake says. This time, when Spider squirms, he lets him go. Spider curls behind Jake’s back, and Jake sees Kiri and Lo’ak go to him. 

‘He is not of The People, he brings death and destruction to us,’ she says. ‘He has almost killed you again.’

Jake just shakes his head, suddenly exhausted. ‘My love, I understand your fear, but Spider stays with me.’

Neytiri, tail lashing, stares Jake down. Jake can hear Kiri trying to coax Spider to show her his shoulder, but he stays pressed against Jake’s back. When he was younger, Spider would have been long gone by now, back to basecamp or to hide somewhere that Neytiri wouldn’t find him. The fact that he is still here now makes Jake’s heart swell. 

Finally, Neytiri backs down. Growling, she takes some bruising ointment and approaches Jake. ‘Show me your head,’ she says.

‘Him first,’ Jake counters, moving so Neytiri can get to Spider. 

Neytiri gives Jake a withering look, but moves to get to Spider. 

‘No, thank you,’ Spider says from behind Jake, and Jake twists to look at him. 

Spider has his eyes on Neytiri, and he has turned to face her. 

‘What?’ Neytiri says. ‘Do not be insolent. Here,’ she says, some ointment on her fingertips as she reaches forward towards Spider. 

‘ Don’t touch me .’ Spider says, voice low and threatening. 

‘Spider, hey,’ Kiri says. ‘Don’t be like that, she’s trying to help.’

‘I don’t want her help,’ Spider says, but Jake can tell he’s trying to keep his voice level. Even now, he is trying to keep his composure. ‘Not after--’

‘I think,’ Ngaire speaks up beside Jake, ‘that perhaps myself or Jake Sully should tend to Spider. Then we can see to Jake Sully.’

It’s so out of character for Nagire to assert himself like this, that for a moment everyone pauses. 

‘Yeah,’ Jake says. ‘I think that’s a good idea.’ Slowly, he takes the ointment from Neytiri, and she retreats to the cookfire beside Tuk, her ears flat and her nose scrunched up.

‘Sorry,’ Spider says suddenly, too quietly to include Neytiri and Tuk in the conversation. ‘I didn’t mean to make things worse, I just…’ He doesn’t finish his sentence. He looks at Ngaire, who smiles gently back. 

‘It’s probably for the best,’ Jake says. ‘I can set your shoulder, come here.’

Spider lets Jake at his arm, and it’s painful for him when Jake manoeuvres him into the right position. 

‘Okay, it’s going to hurt, but I’ll count down from three,’ Jake says. Spider nods, and Kiri hovers closeby, anxious. Jake starts to count, but shoves Spider’s shoulder in on three. Spider grunts, blood pooling over his bottom lip again as he bites down. 

‘Breathe,’ Jake says, and he places a hand on Spider’s chest. ‘It will ease soon, just breathe.’

‘I’m gonna throw up,’ Spider says.

‘You won’t. You probably haven’t eaten enough.’ It earns Jake a weak laugh from Spider, which he counts as a victory. ‘I need to put this on you,’ Jake says, gesturing to Neytiri’s ointment. 

Spider eyes it for a moment, swallowing thickly. He jerks his chin. ‘Go ahead.’

Jake takes it slow, waiting for the moment Spider flinches away and lashes out. Jake starts at Spider’s legs and dresses his bruised knees, the scrapes that cover his skin where the blue stripes don’t. Slowly, he makes his way up, until he reaches Spider’s wrists, one that had been trapped in the tree root, and the other that had held Jake. The bruising was so severe it ringed his arms on both sides, swollen. Gently, Jake takes one in his hand, pressing so softly just to see if the bone is okay. Even that has Spider gasping, his hand spasming in Jake’s.

‘Sorry,’ Jake says. ‘Sorry.’

‘ ‘S okay,’ Spider says, and he goes still again. 

Jake continues. Spider is sunburnt, and his skin is dry and flaky in some places while damp with sweat in others. There’s a bruise on his upper arm the shape of a Na’vi hand. Old, yellowing bruising around his neck. Jake looks at Ngaire, who lowers his eyes, ears flat. 

Spider doesn’t flinch this time when Jake gets near his mask, and turns his head so Jake can get to his neck better. Jake’s hands stutter against his will, something warm and soft and fond flooding his chest when Spider lets Jake move his hair and press the ointment to the bruise on his hairline. 

‘I think I’ve gotten it all,’ Jake says finally. 

‘I can help you with yours,’ Spider says, wincing as he tries to sit up. Jake pushes a hand to his chest to keep him down. 

‘You’ve done enough, just take a break for a sec. Kiri, would you…?’ Kiri, who had sat quietly until now with her knees to her chest, is eager to help Jake, and she’s gentle and efficient and Jake feels the heavy weight of exhaustion settle over him by the time she’s finished. 

When he looks over, Spider’s eyes have closed and his breathing is deep and even.

‘Spider?’ Jake asks.

‘Hmm?’ It’s croaky and thick with sleep.

Jake was going to suggest Spider eat something, because he really really needs to, but the worry lines have eased off of Spider’s face and all the tension has leaked from his posture, and Jake thinks that maybe Spider needs this more. 

‘Nevermind.’

‘ ‘Kay,’ Spider says. 

Ngaire, who had been sitting nearby watching over them quietly, gets up and bids them goodnight. He leans in to Jake. ‘Keep Spider away from Tonowari for now. I will arrange for my sister to speak to him and the Tsahik. Just keep Spider safe.’

‘I will,’ Jake says. ‘Thank you, Ngaire.’

'Wait,' Spider says, seeing Ngaire leave and trying to pull himself back up to sitting again, which Jake gently stops him. 'Don't go yet.'

'What is it, pup?' Ngaire comes to kneel at Spider's head, and Jake watches Spider's throat bob as he swallows.

Spider's eyes trace the glowing spots on Ngiare's face. 'I just...' With his good arm, he reaches under his back and unties a small pouch. 'Here, it's yours. I wanted to give it back.'

Ngaire's face melts into a smile. 'You are kind, Spider.' He cups his hand over where Spider is holding the pouch out to him. 'You may need it more than I. I am happy for you to keep it a while longer.'

'Oh, okay,' Spider says, his voice small. He puts the pouch down. 'And, uh, thank you. For helping me.' The earnestness in Spider's voice makes Jake's heart ache.

'I will see you tomorrow,' Ngaire says, and Jake sees Spider relax just a bit more.

When Ngaire is gone, Jake pulls out Spider’s sleeping mat and rolls it out, coaxing the sleepy boy over to it. 

By now, the Sullys are eating the supper that Neytiri had been making before Jake’s arrival with Spider. Jake takes some of the food and eats it slowly, his appetite diminishing with the promise of sleep soon. It’s quiet, their usual chatter falling dead with the unsaid rift between Jake and Neytiri. Jake hopes he can get through to Neytiri soon, but knows that pushing her won’t help. Instead, he eats in silence and thanks for the food once he is finished.

When the family finally lie down together to sleep, Jake does not drift off like he usually does, instead his body feels restless between his family members, like something isn’t quite right. Looking beyond the gentle glow of the Na’vi all tucked together, he spots Spider’s dark shape across the hut, alone. 

Without thinking, Jake pulls himself from Neytiri, who is fast asleep, and lies down beside Spider. There’s space between them, but from here Jake can sense Spider nearby, hearing the hiss of his respirator.

‘You okay?’ Spider whispers, and Jake hadn’t noticed before how light of a sleeper Spider was. 

‘Just needed some space,’ Jake says.

Spider doesn’t reply, and Jake is surprised when he is woken by how easily he’d started to drift just by being close to Spider.

‘Jake?’ Spider says, so quiet it might not have woken him at all if he was further asleep.

‘Yeah?’

‘What am I supposed to do?’

Confusion pulls Jake to wakefulness. ‘What do you mean?’ He turns to face Spider, and the night is so dark that while he can see Spider’s silhouette, he is sure that Spider wouldn’t be able to see Jake beyond his glowing spots. 

Spider pauses. ‘... Nevermind,’ he says eventually. Spider rolls over, his back to Jake, and doesn’t speak again.

Jake watches him for a moment, but once again his eyes quickly grow heavy. Beside Spider, Jake falls swiftly to sleep and, thankfully, does not dream.

Chapter Text

For Spider, the night is not nearly as kind. Despite Spider’s hyperawareness of Jake’s presence next to him, he somehow manages to finally drift asleep through sheer exhaustion. Spider immediately falls into swirling fears of clawed hands tearing at his skin, of ice storms freezing him solid as he screams for help, of Quaritch’s toothy smile as his hand closes around Spider’s neck. It feels simultaneously like hours and no time at all before Spider is jolting awake again, stifling his gasps and pressing his hand to his chest to try and stop his heart from bruising the insides of his ribs with how hard it pounds. 

Frustration surges inside him as he feels sleep slip from his grasp again. The sun hasn’t returned from eclipse, and the curve of Polyphemus is still so dark that it seems like it will be hours before it does. Spider curls, threading his fingers through his hair and bites back a curse. He is so tired. His body aches: his shoulder still sends nauseating stabs of pain when he moves it, the bruises on his wrists throb in time with his heartbeat, his stomach cramps. Back when he first surfaced from his fever, Spider hadn’t thought that he could have felt more pain than he did, and it seems that right now his body is determined to prove him wrong. 

Everything hurts so much, and Spider is still shaking from his dreams, and from, well, everything, and he just wants to sleep. His stupid body won’t let him. 

Jake shifts beside him, and Spider turns his head to watch him. It’s strange to see Jake sleeping so closely, especially seeing him sleep separately to his family. It feels wrong, but with his exhausted mind Spider can’t exactly put his finger on why.

If Spider is honest to himself, though, it also feels… nice. He is happy that Jake is beside him, and even though Spider’s whole body was flooded with fear just moments ago, having Jake beside him has calmed him already. 

Sighing quietly, Spider sits up, feeling the sweat on his body cooling and leaving bumps along his arms and legs. Already, his mind is wandering to find something he can go and do until the sun returns.

‘Spider?’ Jake mumbles, his words slurred with sleep.

Spider jumps, not expecting to have woken anyone. ‘Y-yeah?’ 

‘What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing,’ Spider whispers. ‘I’m fine.’

Jake huffs. He hasn’t moved, on his side his arm is tucked under his head and Spider assumes his eyes are still closed. ‘When you say that, I know you’re definitely not fine.’ 

Spider looks away from Jake, his tongue worrying at the scab on his lip. ‘Just go back to sleep, it’s nothing.’ 

‘If I go back to sleep, are you going to get up and run off again?’

‘Probably.’

‘You need to sleep.’

‘I slept.’

Jake sighs, long and slow. He’s quiet for a moment, and Spider hopes he has given in and is letting Spider go, until he speaks again. ‘If you need to go, then I’m coming with you. But I’m exhausted, so I won’t be a fun partner.’

‘So stay and sleep,’ Spider says. ‘I’m not asking you to come.’

‘I know, I’m telling you: If you go, I’m coming.’

For a moment, Spider feels frustration return, until he suddenly understands what Jake is hinting at. He’s not going to let Spider out of his sight anymore, and Spider knows exactly why. He wishes he hadn’t told Jake about the tracker, because now, on top of everything else that Spider has done wrong since the Three Brothers battle, Jake knows that Spider is a time bomb for an attack from the humans. 

On top of that, Jake’s injuries need to heal, and if Spider leaves the hut then Jake is going to suffer from the lack of rest. And he’s already hurt because of Spider. 

Guilt wells up in Spider’s chest. He couldn’t possibly be so selfish. Even if he is human, he can’t be that bad. One bad night for Spider can’t equal more trouble for Jake.

‘Okay, I’ll stay,’ Spider says, so quiet that it’s almost lost to the hiss of his respirator. 

‘Good,’ Jake says, his words already breathy with sleep. ‘C’mere.’

‘What?’ 

‘I said come here,’ Jake says, and he holds his arm out expectantly, the glowing spots shifting in the darkness. 

Hesitantly, Spider moves closer, and Jake puts his hand around Spider’s waist and pulls him in. He’s gentle, avoiding Spider’s injuries as if he’s afraid of hurting him. 

Spider freezes, holding his breath as Jake tucks him against his chest, putting out his other arm for Spider to rest his head. 

‘There, now I’ll know when you wake up again,’ Jake says, and Spider feels his breath on top of his head. Spider wonders if Jake can feel how hard Spider’s heart is beating. Jake is so warm, and the bumps on Spider’s arms immediately disappear, his trembling eases. Jake rests his hand on Spider’s chest, and the glowing spots rise and fall with his breaths. ‘Just try and get more sleep,’ Jake whispers. 

It’s not long before Jake’s breaths even out, and he is gone. 

Spider lies there for a while longer. Barring recent peril and Spider’s unfortunate brushes with unconsciousness, Spider has never been this close to Jake before. It’s not uncomfortable; Jake’s hand is heavy on his chest but the weight of it somehow calms Spider’s heart. Jake’s body so close to his isn’t suffocating like he’d thought; it is comforting, because it's Jake. Jake, who always let Spider come along with things, who always included him in whatever the kids were doing, who calmed him down in his panic attack, and helped him shave, and saved him from Tonowari. Jake, who maybe... maybe meant it when he said he didn't lock Spider away.

Slowly… slowly… Spider rests his hand on top of Jake’s, feeling the ridges of his knuckles below his fingertips. It’s… it's nice. Even if Jake is trying to keep him close enough so he can’t fuck up even more, Spider feels something warm bloom in his heart despite himself. Is this what it feels like; for the Sullys to sleep with their family? He wonders if they all feel this safe with Jake so close, even after a thousand nights. He wonders, if he ever got to sleep like this again, whether he would ever get used to the feeling of someone holding him so closely, as though he was something comfortable to hold.

Spider hadn’t noticed that he’d fallen asleep until the ground rushing up to crush him jolts him awake again. He’s gasping, his head spinning from the feeling of falling and falling and falling, and he can’t breathe again-

‘Okay, you’re okay,’ Jake whispers beside Spider’s ear. 

Spider has Jake’s fingers in a vice grip, and he lets out a shaky breath as he releases them. ‘Sorry, sorry,’ he rasps, his sweaty palms leaving his skin icy, and he shivers.

‘It’s okay. I’ve got you.’ Jake’s hand rubs a circle on Spider’s chest, and it helps him take a full breath in.

Spider can feel Jake beside him now, Jake’s warm skin pressing against Spider’s side and it is something to focus on that isn’t the fear that feels like electricity in his veins. 

‘I think you almost managed a whole hour,’ Jake half-laughs, and Spider feels the laugh in Jake’s chest. His hand on Spider’s chest stills. ‘I didn’t know it was this bad.’ 

Self-consciousness rises in Spider, and he has the urge to sit up and get away from Jake. He knows that if he tries, Jake would just hold him down. Even that thought, though, isn’t nearly as upsetting as being held in the morgue. ‘It’s--’

‘If you say it’s fine, so help me,’ Jake whispers, and Spider sighs. ‘Do you want to talk about it?’

‘No,’ Spider says quickly. 

‘I didn’t think you would, but I’m here if you want to, okay?’ 

‘Sure.’ 

‘Okay. Now try again.’ 

Spider swallows. The taste of fear is still on his tongue, still leaving him light-headed. ‘I don’t think I want to.’ He doesn’t think he can handle another nightmare, it would exhaust him more than sleep could justify. 

‘I know, but I’m right here if you wake up again.’ 

It shouldn’t, but it fills Spider with warmth all over again. 

‘Okay,’ Spider breathes. 

Spider wakes up two more times that night, each time his body trembling with terror and his disorientation sending him grasping for Jake. Each time Jake quietly hushes him, eases him down from his fear, and he does not let go of Spider. 

Finally, Spider wakes up to sunshine, not with a jolt but with a yawn. 

He’s exhausted, the extra sleep he managed to scrape together somehow making him even more tired. His eyes burn as he tries to open them, and even the thought of moving makes his limbs feel like lead. 

The sounds of morning float into the Sullys’ hut: the shouts of the fishermen already returning, the birds calling loudly in the hometree. Beside him, Jake is still fast asleep, his mouth hanging open against Spider’s sleeping mat. All of the slowly-deepening wrinkles on Jake’s face have smoothed out, and he looks younger like this. Spider has never seen Jake like this before. 

Spider gets the urge to try and sit up, but stops himself at the last minute, worrying that any movement would wake Jake. Spider forces himself to stay still. 

His effort is undermined when the Sullys return from bathing. 

‘He’s still sleeping?’ Tuk whines, and she comes over to squat beside Jake. Her eyes find Spider’s and a wide smile blooms on her face. ‘Spider’s awake!’ she announces, just as Neytiri rounds into the hut. 

She regards Spider and her mouth turns downward. She doesn’t say anything, though, and turns her shoulder to go and dress herself in her jewellery. 

Tuk shakes Jake’s shoulder, and he rouses with a groan. 

‘Tuk, please don’t,’ Jake says, and Spider imagines that being jostled like that probably isn’t so good for a head injury. 

Jake rolls onto his back, releasing Spider who sits up.

Kiri’s in front of him. ‘You okay?’ she says, and he sees her eyes darting up and down his body. The bruises don’t look much better, unfortunately. 

‘Yeah,’ Spider says. 

‘Hey, bro,’ Lo’ak says as he returns to the hut. ‘I wanted you to meet Tsireya and Ao’nung, you up for it?’ 

‘Uh,’ Spider says, and he glances at Jake who is scrubbing his palms into his eyes as Tuk clambers over his chest to sit on him. Tsireya is Tonowari’s daughter. She was there when Neteyam died, and she seemed nice, but… ‘I don’t know…’ Spider says. 

‘They’re chill, I swear,’ Lo’ak insists, coming to squat beside Spider as he pats his braids dry with a cloth. ‘They really helped us get to know the place when we got here, they could help you too. I mean, Ao’nung is a bit of a shithead, but he comes around eventually.’

‘I just--’

‘I was going to go and meet Tsireya now, actually. You can come.’

Unfortunately, before Spider could think of an excuse to get out of it, Tsireya herself rounds into the hut, smiling gently. ‘Lo’ak, I--’ she stops when she sees Spider, and her hand flies up to her chest. ‘Oh,’ she says.

‘Hey, Tsireya, this is Spider. You remember him, right?’ 

‘I remember,’ she says, and Spider can’t gauge whether she means that in a good way or a bad way. 

Spider doesn’t know how to respond, and his voice dries up in his throat. He knows that one wrong move will find itself fed back to her father, and Spider’s too exhausted to run as fast as he did yesterday. Quickly, he raises his fingertips to his forehead, greeting her softly. 

Her eyes widen a bit, but all she replies is, ‘Um. Lo’ak, can we speak elsewhere?’ 

Lo’ak protests, but Tsireya is already walking away. ‘Sorry, bro. Another time, okay?’ Lo’ak pats Spider on the shoulder and darts out of the hut, not seeing the way that Spider folds forward over his crossed legs. Lo’ak had hit his bad shoulder, and Spider really, really wished he hadn’t done that. 

‘Spider? Hold on, I’ll get you something for the pain,’ Kiri says. She’s back before Spider really registers it, and she’s swiping some sort of numbing spice onto his skin. It helps a bit. ‘That skxawng,’ she mutters. 

‘It’s not his fault. He didn’t know,’ Spider says. 

Kiri clicks her tongue. ‘You forgive too easily,’ she says. ‘There, all done. Better?’

‘Yeah, thanks.’ She waits for him to say more, but he can't. He feels disoriented, like he's woken up in a completely different world and he can't find his barings. They're all being so... normal. It itches in the back of his mind, the way some of his old scars ache before a storm, like something is trying to make itself known but everyone resolutely ignores it.

Beside Spider, Jake has fallen into some sort of peek-a-boo game with Tuk where he pretends to be asleep and then jumps awake every time Tuk wriggles where she sits on his stomach, making her giggle. 

‘Hey,’ Kiri says, placing a hand lightly on his arm and bringing him back to focus on her. ‘We haven’t had a chance to hang out since we got you back. I miss you.’

‘I…’ Spider starts, not knowing how to finish that sentence. He misses her, too. Of course he misses Kiri, but it’s more than that. He misses her the way he misses their home in the Hallelujah Mountains; the way he misses how he used to be before all of this started. He misses when he wasn’t so… human. ‘Yeah, me too,’ he says lamely. Why can’t he just go back to normal? Why can’t he just go and have fun with Kiri like he used to, and why can’t he smile without it feeling like a sin? Silence stretches between them, and Spider gets the feeling that Kiri wants to say something. 

She doesn’t get the chance, though, because Neytiri calls her over to help her mend one of Tuk’s loincloths.

‘Coming, mother,’ Kiri says, sounding upset. ‘Spider, I’ll be right back, okay?’

‘Okay,’ Spider says, but as he watches her move further into the hut, restlessness builds like static under his skin. He wants to get out. The thought of being caught by Kiri again, her eyes seeing right through him, makes him want to squirm. He feels exposed here amongst them all, as though just sitting there makes him a tripping hazard, an annoyance underfoot. Especially when he kept waking Jake last night, and he’s upset Tsireya, and…

Spider spots the dirty dishes the family had used for supper last night, and it’s perfect. Trying to move without attracting attention, Spider shuffles over to them and gathers them up. His bad shoulder twinges painfully, and he has to clench his teeth together to stop from crying out. He adjusts the dishes, balancing them in one arm. They press into his bruised wrist, and Spider uses his frustration with himself for being so pathetic to push the pain away.

He’s about to make it out of the hut when he hears Jake call his name. Spider’s feet don’t stop, and Tuk whines when Jake tells her to go and spend time with Neytiri and Kiri. Spider doesn’t look back, but he can feel Jake following him as he weaves into the forest, walking as fast as he can without it hurting too much. By the time he reaches the stream, Jake is only a couple of paces behind him. 

Spider lowers the dishes to the ground, pulling out the soap and brush to get a lather in the water. 

‘What are you doing?’ Jake says as he comes to sit on the bank beside him. It’s not an accusation, yet. 

‘I’m washing the dishes,’ Spider says. 

‘Why?’ 

‘They need washing.’ 

‘Yes, but why are you doing it?’

Spider takes the brush in his hand and takes the first dish. He barely manages a single scrub before he comes to the great conclusion that this particular movement is hell on his shoulder. Spider curses, inwardly lamenting the fact that it was his dominant arm that is essentially out of commission. Even with Kiri's painkiller, he almost drops the brush, and his body curls forward as the pain lances up to his jaw and down to his ribs, making him feel sick. He breathes through it, because there's nothing else for it.

‘You’re hurting yourself.’ 

‘I’m fine,’ Spider says, making a point to swap the brush to his left hand, and trying again. It still hurts, and when he puts his hands back in the water to rinse it off, the water is so cold it makes his joints ache fiercely. 

Spider grits his teeth against it, a lump forming in his throat at how everything is so hard. His stupid body is too weak and his stupid head is too messed up and he can’t seem to get this damn dirt off this stupid bowl-

‘Alright, you’ve made your point. Enough now,’ Jake says, and Spider glares at him. ‘I’m serious, you’re going to hurt yourself more if you carry on.’

‘I’ll be quick,’ Spider insists, but he winces when he knocks one of the bowls against his bruised wrist, and tears spring to his eyes. He blinks them away; he won’t cry. He can do this. He can just do this. ‘I just gotta--’

‘Stop,’ Jake says, and he takes the brush from Spider’s hands. ‘Just… stop.’ 

Spider’s throat has closed, so he doesn’t say anything when Jake puts the brush aside and turns to face Spider. Jake takes Spider’s wrists in his hands, and it’s warm over Spider’s ice cold skin. 

‘I know what you’re doing, and you don’t have to anymore, okay? You don’t have to punish yourself like that,’ Jake says, his voice so low that Spider can barely hear it over the rush of the water. 

'I'm not--'

'Don't lie to me.' It's so sure, so direct a statement that Spider gets the distinct feeling that Jake is speaking from somewhere deeper than exasperation, and it makes Spider's nerves fray. 'I know exactly what you're doing, and I'm telling you that you don't have to do it anymore.'

‘I do,’ Spider says, his words catching in his throat. 

‘No, you don’t.’ Jake rubs his thumbs down Spider’s palms, and Spider expects it to hurt but Jake is so gentle he barely feels it at all. ‘Look at me, Spider.’ 

Spider looks up and sees that strange expression back on Jake’s face again, and it makes his chest ache because, just in that moment, it looks a little bit like love. It must just be the shadows from the trees. Spider blinks. 

‘I am going to say something to you now, and I want you to listen to it, okay?' Jake waits until Spider nods, but he is suddenly overcome with fear. He doesn't think he can take another rejection. Not now. Not when he's so tired- 

'It wasn’t your fault,’ Jake says.

...What?

‘What?’ 

‘I said it wasn’t your fault. Not with the RDA, not with Quaritch, and not with Tonowari. Nothing of what happened to you was your fault. ’ 

Spider frowns. ‘But I’m a human,’ he says, because it should be obvious. Of course it was his fault.

Jake shakes his head, his eyes lifting up to the sky as if searching for something he can’t find in front of him. ‘Eywa forgive me, I should have noticed sooner.’

‘Noticed what?’ Spider says, suddenly wary. He tries to pull his hands from Jake’s hold but Jake doesn’t let go. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Spider,’ Jake looks back at him. ‘You are a human, and you are just a child, and you were put in situations that you didn't deserve. It wasn't your fault.’

Spider swallows. ‘Yes, it was.’

‘It’s not your fault. You are not a monster.’

Spider's breath hitches, and he has to look away from Jake's face. Something fierce and raw surges in his chest, and he has to bite his lip to stop it coming out. He doesn't get it, he doesn't understand what Jake is doing, because Jake of all people should know what it's like to be human on Pandora. Jake should know. So why is he saying that Spider isn't a monster when it's as plain as day, written over Spider's skin, branded on his body?

How can Spider be human, and not a monster?

‘You’re good, Spider.’

‘Why are you doing this?’ Spider says tugging again on his hands, hard enough for his wrist to click when Jake doesn’t let go. That hurts, but Spider doesn’t let it show. ‘Jake--’

Jake pulls Spider in, and holds him tightly to his chest. Spider struggles, confusion turning swiftly into anger. ‘Let go of me, let go!’ Spider pushes against Jake’s chest, but he doesn’t stand a chance.

Jake places a hand on the back of Spider’s head, and Spider hears Jake begin to hush him. 

‘It wasn’t your fault,’ Jake says, and he repeats it again and again. He holds Spider even as Spider punches at his ribs, and doesn’t flinch when Spider digs his nails in and scratches. ‘I know, kid. I know it hurts. But it wasn’t your fault.’ 

‘Stop,’ Spider says, and he’s horrified when his voice breaks in the middle. He clicks his teeth shut, biting back the painful lump that’s returned again. He twists, trying to break free but that, too, is pointless against Jake’s strength. 

‘I know it feels like a fire in your mind that you can’t put out,’ Jake says, and he sounds so sad that Spider feels his chest cave in. 'I know what it feels like, and I can see it in you. I should have seen it sooner, I'm so sorry.'

Jake’s hand rubs up and down his back, and the touch is so soft and kind and warm that Spider’s breath hitches, and he grabs onto Jake’s shoulders.

‘I don't know what to do,’ Spider says, his voice strained. ‘I don't know how to make it go away.’

‘You can’t,’ Jake says. He lowers his head, pressing his cheek to Spider’s ear. ‘You can’t make it go away, but you can make it hurt less.’

‘How?’ 

‘It just takes time, kiddo. And love.’

Jake’s hand is still going up and down, and Spider can’t stop himself from melting as it smooths out all his tension. His face falls forward, resting onto Jake’s chest. Time and love. His eyes slip closed. He is so, so tired.

‘I don’t have any of that,’ he says. A deep, echoing ache blooms in Spider’s chest, one he's felt his whole life but never had the strength to face. It's hollow, and cold, and vicious all at once, and this is worse than it's ever been. He curls up further against Jake, just wishing more than anything that he could disappear. How could anyone love him? How could anyone bear his sins, see him as he is- a demon- and love him? His throat closes painfully, and a hot tear races down his cheek. He can't do this, not now. He can't rip open every dark spot in himself again for someone to just throw him away again. It'll kill him.

‘You do,’ Jake says against his ear, so softly it’s like Jake is speaking to something precious that he doesn’t want to startle. Jake wraps his arms around Spider, pulling him in, as though Spider could possibly be that precious thing. It’s warm, it's so warm it brings another tear to Spider’s cheek. ‘I didn’t before, but I see you now, Spider. I see you.’ 

Jake says it like he’s saying a prayer, like he’s hoping for something so desperately that he’s putting all his faith into it.

I see you. 

Spider doesn’t realise he’s coiled back up again, tense and bracing, until Jake’s hand moves to smooth down his arms, his back, his shoulders. 

It doesn’t compute. It makes no sense. Spider feels like he’s fallen into a dream, or another world where he’s a different person, someone else who gets to have  these sorts of moments. He hope's it's a dream.

Spider’s own dad never said that to him. Spider’s own dad never held him like this, never spoke to him this softly, never gave Spider this patience because Spider is just sitting here in silence after Jake has said that, and he hasn’t responded yet--

‘How?’ It’s the first thing out of his mouth, and he regrets it the second he says it. 

Jake’s hand stutters over Spider’s skin, and Spider feels his heart sink. He’s pushed it too far. Jake could take it back, and if he does Spider will crumble.

‘I needed some help, I’ll admit,’ Jake starts, and Spider is clinging to every word with shameful desperation. ‘But I can see you now, all of you.’ Jake squeezes the nape of Spider’s neck, right where Spider’s queue would be if he were Na’vi. ‘And it’s easy.’

It can’t be easy. It must be laborious, uncomfortable, repulsive. 

‘Because you are good,’ Jake continues, as though he somehow could hear Spider’s thoughts. ‘You are kind, and generous, and strong, and even though others wanted to beat that out of you, they couldn’t. Because you’re one of us.’

Tears run down Spider’s cheeks and his chest is hitching painfully. He bites his lip to stop himself from making any sound. It feels like if he even moves a muscle, this will end, and disappear like smoke.

‘And it’s not your fault that they tried,’ Jake finishes. 

‘I never wanted to hurt anyone,’ Spider says, and his voice breaks over the words like the water breaking on the rocks in the stream beside them. 

‘I know.’ Jake tucks Spider closer into his chest, his chin resting on Spider’s head and his arms tight around his back, careful of his shoulder. 

Spider can’t help it. All of the tension leaves his body, and he becomes boneless in Jake’s embrace. The tears won’t stop coming because somewhere, deep down below all his other injuries, something hurts even more.

It hurts because, just in this horrible moment, these two words sound like forgiveness. And Spider is so foolish, because he can’t bring himself to turn it away, and instead he clings to it like one buoy out in his ocean of mistakes. 

Jake sees him. 

Jake sees him. 

And if someone sees him then he won't just disappear. Jake sees him as though he's one of the people, as though Spider isn't a monster, and that... it would be worth it. Everything, all of the fear and the pain and the destruction would be worth it if just that one thing were true.

Spider doesn’t know how long they stay there, but it’s long after Spider’s tears have all dried up. He cries a couple of times, apologies falling from his tongue every time it feels like he's drowining again, and every time Jake is there to hold him just a little tighter, muttering assurances: that he knows, that it’s okay, that Spider’s okay. Until the ache in his chest feels less sharp and more empty, until the fire in his mind is smoothed away. Until the sun reaches higher and the darkness and cold of the nighttime is thoroughly gone. 

Through all of it, Jake doesn’t push Spider away. He doesn’t recoil in disgust, or hurt him for Spider’s ugly neediness.

‘Hey,’ Jake says, breaking a long silence. Spider feels the vibrations of Jake’s voice where he is pressed against his chest. ‘How about we get that tracker out of your mask?’

Spider draws a deep breath in. ‘Yeah,’ he says. ‘Okay.’

Spider pulls himself away from Jake. He feels cold sitting in front of him. 

They try for a while, and Spider has to hold his breath for Jake to inspect the different elements of the mask. This time, though, Spider lets Jake know when he needs to take a breath, and Jake is quick to press it back to his face. 

Jake checks the folds of the seal around the edge, and the diffuser at the bottom. Breathe. He checks the piping to the filter. 

Breathe. 

He disassembles the filter. 

Breathe. 

He checks the straps, and the battery. 

Breathe.

‘Spider…’ Jake says, and Spider already knows what he’s going to say. ‘I can’t find any tracker.’

Spider’s hands clench into fists, and something hot and painful rises in his chest. 

‘I don’t think they put one in there,’ Jake says. Spider can hardly hear him, like his voice is coming from far away.

If Spider had any more tears to give, he would have cried all over again. 

How could he have been so stupid? All this time-

Spider folds forward, pressing the visor of his mask to the ground. He threads his fingers through his hair, and roars. He screams so hard his body shudders with it, and all of his despair, and fear, and guilt pours out of him. Hate at Quaritch for ever taking Spider away from his home, from his family fills him up and empties him out. Quaritch made Spider into someone foreign to himself, and even now his disgusting grip on Spider's heart hurts. Spider hates him so much, and he screams again because it's not fair. It’s not fair. It’s not fucking fair . He rakes his fingers over his scalp, and his voice cracks and disappears.

Jake waits, and when Spider’s done he says, ‘I’m sorry, son.’

Spider chokes on his breath in. He stays so still that it coaxes all the feeling away, until he’s left with a cavernous emptiness. ‘It’s okay,’ he croaks. He feels completely spent, like every last shackle that had been holding him to this horrible guilt has fallen away and he’s floating, weightless, adrift. Jake doesn’t hug Spider again, and he’s glad. For a while, he just wants to be numb. 

‘Okay,’ Spider sighs finally, when the grass beneath his body feels real again. ‘Okay, I’m okay.’ 

Jake studies Spider when he sits up, and seems to come to a conclusion in his head when his expression settles into a small, sad smile. Wordlessly, Jake picks up the brush from where he’d placed it before, and gestures for Spider to pass him a bowl. Spider does, and he settles himself to watch as Jake scrubs at the dishes, passing him the next one when he gestures for it.

Spider just watches, and Jake doesn’t push him for anything. Slowly, the numbness leaves Spider again, and in its wake something brittle but bright finds its way into Spider’s heart. It takes him a while to put a finger on it, to parse out what can feel so warm and so gentle at the same time, but eventually he names it: hope. 

There was never any tracker; Quaritch had lied. Spider isn’t a time bomb waiting to ruin everything around him anymore. Underneath the lingering anger and hatred, the relief is dizzying.

Jake gestures for another bowl, and Spider passes it over. Their hands touch in the middle, and Jake smiles at him again. 

It’s easy.

Eventually, Jake has a neat pile of clean dishes beside him. 

‘Alright,’ Jake says finally, grunting as he places his hands on his knees and pushes himself to stand up. ‘I think we’ve earned our lunch, don’t you think?’ 

Spider nods, standing up too. The pain is still there, but he somehow feels lighter than he has in days. 

‘Let’s go home,’ Jake says, picking up the dishes. He pauses, and turns to put a hand on Spider’s head. ‘You gonna be okay?’ 

Spider actually thinks about it. ‘Not yet, I don't know.’

‘That's okay,' Jake says, turning to face Spider. Jake's hand cups the side of Spider's head, and his thumb swipes over his hair. 'For now, though, let’s get some grub.' He lets Spider go, and Jake leads Spider back towards the village. 'Then we can see about getting you a bow somewhere. That way we can go check out what we can find around the other side of this island. I don’t know about you, but I have been getting a little tired of having fish all of the time.’

Jake carries on talking, not lingering on any topic in particular. Spider just listens, not needing to contribute but wanting to hear everything Jake has to say. He’s listening, and finds himself smiling because finally, finally, one thing makes sense: what Jake had meant when he had called Spider ours.  

It takes Spider a while to properly settle into Awa'atlu, but Lo'ak eventually does get him to meet Tsireya and Ao'nung and after a bit of awkwardness they get along fine. Spider dedicates himself to learning the way of water, and his adaptiveness and respectfulness eventually bring Tonowari and Ronal around to him, even if it isn't to the same level of affection they feel for the rest of the Sullys. Only then does Jake and Tonowari's friendship resume, brittle and bruised at first.

Neytiri tolerates Spider for the most part, but Jake defends Spider's place to her enough times that she stops her passive aggressiveness, and they become civil with each other. Spider keeps his distance for his own sake. 

Kiri finally manages to get some time with Spider, and she can't help but be upset by how different he is now after what was done to him. His hesitancy in himself is new to her, and she takes a while to adjust to his new ways of being. He shies away from her, too afraid that she'll peer in and accidentally poke him where it still hurts, so she tries her best not to. She reaches him eventually, though, and manages to build their companionship again.

Spider and Jake continue to grow closer, and Jake finds in Spider a connection to his human past, one that is sometimes painful but mostly joyful to share with a member of his family. With Jake, Spider continues to recover and gain his strength back. It's months before his shoulder is healed enough to shoot an arrow, but the first time he does he and Jake celebrate together, and Spider thinks it's a strong contender for the best day of his life.

Chapter Text

Initially, Jake doesn’t register what it is that wakes him from his empty sleep. Rising through his exhaustion feels like trying to swim with weights tied to his ankles, like the rest of the world is far above the surface as he fights to it. When his senses slowly return, he is greeted first by a sharp pain in his head, the nape of his queue throbbing fiercely in time with his heartbeat. The second thing that he becomes aware of is the sound of a respirator- Spider’s respirator- hissing beside him.

Through the haze of pain and sleep, Jake finds himself grateful that, for the first time in days, he has woken up before Spider could run away again.

Jake feels the floor shift as Spider moves, and the rhythm of Spider’s breathing is shallow, uneven. That’s… not right. Something is wrong. Wake up, Jake.

‘Spider?’ Jake mumbles, trying to move some feeling back into his limbs.

Spider gasps, and just as Jake forces his eyes open he catches the way Spider flinches in the dark. Jake frowns, concern chasing away the lingering sleep.

‘Y-yeah?’ Spider stutters.

‘What’s wrong?’ Jake only really asks out of curtesy, because the way Spider is trembling is not hiding much.

Spider mumbles something about being fine and it almost, almost makes Jake laugh because that’s exactly what Spider has been telling him for days, and for days Jake has been taking it at face value. It’s bitter, and Jake hates the way it feels to know that the Spider he caught semi-catatonic in the forest earlier that night is the boy that’s left after all of Jake’s ignorance.

Jake looks at Spider’s silhouette beside him. The forest was always so lit up at night, the bioluminescent plants making even the nighttime a bright affaire. Now, sleeping above the water where the bright fish only glow when disturbed, and the only light here being the glowing spots on Jake’s skin seems to leave Spider in a lonely darkness on his own, isolated in his empty space.

In that darkness, Spiders restlessness pulls at Jake’s attention, Spider is looking in the direction of the hut entrance.

Jake asks Spider if he intends to leave, and finds himself hoping that Spider will say no. That this time, Spider will just stay with them.

‘Probably.’

Really, Jake should have expected that.

‘You need to sleep,’ Jake pushes, hoping that by some miracle, Spider will agree.

‘I slept.’

No miracle, then.

Jake’s head aches behind his eyes, and he has to squeeze them shut to try and ease it away. Spider’s stubbornness, at least, is something Jake is familiar with. It’s a tiny relief. Despite the way Spider’s breaths still sound shallow, it brings Jake a bit of comfort that even this, even the way he shudders and gingerly wraps his injured arms around his abdomen, is better than the state in which Jake had found him days before.

That being said, even in the time since they pulled Spider out of that disgusting hut, Jake had yet to actually see Spider truly sleep. If Spider has been waking up like this all this time, he must be exhausted.

And he won’t stop shaking.

Jake aches for him, and it feels a little bit like the ache he feels for Neteyam, a raw and open wound too big still for Jake to face, not yet, but this- Spider, here, in front of him- this he can handle. Spider, his back curling to press his face to his knees, needs someone. And Jake feels himself arrogant enough to think that Spider might need him.

Spider relents to stay after Jake threatens to leave the hut with him, but Jake gets the distinct impression that Spider really doesn’t want to. Jake doesn’t want to force Spider to stay, the idea of him being anything like the humans who captured him, or Tonowari who imprisoned him, makes Jake feel sick. Still, his gut is telling him not to let Spider go tonight, and it’s a cold day in hell the day that Jake Sully ignores his instincts.

Jake can already feel himself getting fuzzy again, the pain in his head settling into a lethargic buzz that promises swift unconsciousness soon. In the back of his mind, he wonders if he should be worried about it, but Spider beside him takes precedent.

‘Come here,’ Jake says. It’s a gamble, and Jake would be lying to himself if he said he wasn’t at all nervous of Spider’s reaction.

‘What?’

‘I said, come here,’ he says, and holds out his arm for Spider.

Spider edges closer, and Jake can’t stop the gentle smile as Spider settles his head on Jake’s arm. Thank Eywa, he is staying.

Jake pulls Spider in and Spider is rigid beside him, and it feels strange compared to his family, like Spider isn’t used to sleeping so close to others. He makes sure to mind Spider’s shoulder, his arms, his scrapes and bruises. All the collected hurts Spider has taken, not one of them deserved.

God, he is just a child.

Jake places his hand to Spider’s chest, and under his palm Spider’s heart thunders. Jake can tell that Spider is trying to slow his breathing, trying to keep quiet. Spider needs to sleep, he’s running himself into the ground like this, and Jake can’t keep up with him much longer.

Selfishly, Jake feels happy that Spider is here with him. The same sense of right-ness that settled over him when he found Spider weaving ropes and sat to weave with him. The same sense of relief he had felt when Spider had been brought back to the village by the warrior woman (despite how quickly that relief died upon seeing Spider sprayed in blood). Having Spider so close, the smell of earth and sweat, makes something settle in Jake’s heart, and he falls asleep again.

Jake wakes when Spider jolts under his hand, a strangled gasp from his throat and his heart thumping hard beneath Jake’s hand. Jake immediately registers Spider’s vice grip on Jake’s fingers. Even this small gesture, Jake thinks, betrays more of Spider’s fear than any words could. Spider’s fingers are ice cold, and Jake wants to take his hand into his palm to rub some warmth into it.

‘Okay, you’re okay.’ Jake tries to keep his voice low, hoping to avoid startling Spider.

He flinches anyway, and yanks his hand away from Jake’s as though he’s been burnt. Shaky, broken apologies fall from his lips, as though he’s doing something wrong by just being here. Spider’s gasping, and Jake fears he’s about to fall into another panic attack.

‘It’s okay, I’ve got you,’ Jake says, and he presses his hand to Spider’s chest, mindful of his scar, and frowns when Spider’s tiny heart doesn’t stop racing. Slowly, Jake starts to move his hand, rubbing small circles over Spider’s skin the way he would when Neteyam was this small and scared of the thunderstorms that cracked above their home, and suddenly the grief rises again- so sore and raw that Jake’s throat closes.

In the darkness, between the pulls of exhaustion and the pain in his head, Jake closes his eyes and sees against the back of his eyelids the image of Neteyam superimpose onto the gasping, trembling child lying beside him, and it would be so easy to fall into it, to stop fighting the wave that wants to drown him and let his mind keep Neteyam alive by attaching him to Spider.

But he can’t. He can’t do that to Spider, and he can’t do that to himself.

It’s cruel, so, so cruel that because of the gaping, aching, hole that Neteyam has left in Jake’s chest, Spider had fallen beyond his sight.

Jake swallows the painful lump in his throat, and forces the image of Neteyam away, and opens his eyes. Spider is trying to deepen his breathing just the way Jake taught him to during a panic attack, and Jake thinks he feels the very edges of Spider’s fingers brushing the side of his hand. Spider is here, now, hurting, and Jake can’t let another child down. He can’t let Spider down now, not after everything Spider has been through, some of it because of Jake.

‘I think you almost managed a whole hour.’ It’s a pathetic attempt at a Joke, and Spider doesn’t laugh. Jake frowns. He’s not calming down, and for a moment Jake understands Spider’s night-time flights: how can he stand his terror? ‘I didn’t know it was this bad,’ he says, and Spider goes rigid. Ah, bad move.

Spider tries to brush it off, but this time Jake won’t let him.

‘Do you want to talk about it?’ Jake can’t name the answer he’s hoping for, but he knows what he expects. Spider declines, and Jake is a little relieved. The terror that had raced down Jake’s spine when Spider had spoken about what the RDA had done to him just to find Jake and his family had nearly suffocated Jake. Spider had fought, and fought, and fought to resist it, and all of that fighting must have left marks on Spider’s psyche.

They’d used torture. They’d trapped him and cornered him and threatened him. It makes Jake feel sick. If Spider had wanted to share his nightmares, Jake would have accepted it, he would have borne it, but Jake can’t deny that Spider’s refusal to share any more of his experiences in this darkness feels like a small blessing.

‘I didn’t think you would, but I’m here if you want to, okay?’ Jake says.

‘Sure.’ Spider’s voice sounds tight.

‘Okay. Now try again,’ Jake says, noticing that Spider’s trembling has eased slightly. Jake hopes that, if he just pushes Spider a little, that Spider will give in and go back to sleep again. If Jake could help Spider get just a little bit of rest, then he has to try.

‘I don’t think I want to.’

Oh, Jake understands that, too. He does. Jake is suddenly overcome with the urge to pull Spider into his chest and hold him so tightly that Spider never feels afraid of anything ever again, because Jake has been where Spider is. Jake knows the fear of closing his eyes, of seeing the monsters and fires that bloom in the darkness. Jake doesn’t hug Spider, though, because even this closeness is a privilege that Spider wouldn’t have granted him just days before.

‘I know, but I’m right here if you wake up again.’ It’s a paltry offer, but it’s all Jake can give now.

‘Okay,’ Spider says.

Jake releases a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding, because that sounds just a little bit like Spider accepts that offer, like Spider trusts him to keep that promise.

The next time Spider wakes, Jake almost doesn’t make it all the way out of sleep, the exhaustion clinging to him like concrete weights, and only Spider’s single, choked whine as he jolts in Jake’s arms forces Jake to the surface.

‘Spider, I have you, you’re okay,’ Jake says, and Spider makes some sort of affirmative sound that sounds so close to a sob that Jake’s chest caves in sympathy.

Oh, this poor boy.

Spider shifts, and sits up, and Jake removes his hand. It hovers between them for a moment, Jake feeling unsure whether he wants to reach back out to Spider, hold his shoulder, or press at his back, but in the end, he lets it fall to rest between them. Spider shakes, and his breathing hisses in short, staccato gasps, and Jake sees the edges of Spider’s fingers come to curl around his injured shoulder, hugging himself gently.

Oh, Spider…

A boy with all his broken parts in the same places as Jake. It’s so ironic it’s almost too much to bear, and Jake would give anything to wipe away the terrors that plague Spider’s mind, but he can’t. He couldn’t with his own, when he was human nor when he became Na’vi.

Jake watches the back of Spider’s head despite the way his eyes burn and his head throbs, until Spider eventually sighs and goes loose, like a cord that’s lost all its tension, and Spider eases himself onto his back, his head coming back to rest on Jake’s arm again. Jake listens for Spider’s breathing as it slowly eases, and when he wakes again, Spider is once again clinging to Jake’s hand, this time Spider’s chest hitching with sobs Spider doesn’t give any voice.

‘I’ve got you, I’m here,’ Jake whispers, unsure now if this time and the last are even so separate- did they really sleep at all? He places his hand to Spider’s chest again. The sobs slowly, slowly, deliver Spider back to sleep.

Jake’s fingers brush the scar on Spider’s chest. The feeling he had gotten yesterday, seeing Spider lean over him and that scar so plain over his skin, returns again. While the wound over Jake’s heart was a voluntary affair, entirely symbolic despite the real pain it held, Spider’s was not. Not voluntary, not symbolic, nothing more than a real threat that bit him twice. Jake and Spider, though both human and Na’vi at the same time, couldn’t be further from each other in experience.

How had Jake managed to find a home amongst the Na’vi while Spider has fought his whole life to just be looked at without a sneer?

Spider can’t fight any more. The sleeping boy beside him can’t take much more cruelty, Jake can see it plain as day. If Jake doesn’t help him, shield him now from isolation and scorn, then Spider could very well slip away completely.

Jake’s heart lurches, because in that exact moment he realises the fear he had held watching Spider sleep days before wasn’t at all about whether Spider could possibly be more human than Na’vi, but instead the fear of something deeper, something worse: that if Spider isn’t Na’vi, he is nothing. The fear that somehow, Spider will disappear like smoke if there is no one to hold him here, hold him tight, and be his home.

And Jake had very nearly let Spider slip away, alone in that hut.

Oh, Eywa, what has Jake done?

Tuk wakes Jake after the sun has returned, shaking him roughly enough that the throbbing pain in his head politely rockets up to a steady piercing.

She clambers onto his chest and clings to him, her arms around his shoulders and her face in his neck, and she is so sweet, cool and fresh from her bath. He holds her to him, her tail swishing happily in the air above them. She must have missed him last night, and for a moment he feels guilty to have left them, left his wife and children all night, but he can’t bring himself to feel sorry.

The rest of his family return, Kiri and Lo’ak making a beeline for where Spider has sat up next to Jake. In the sunlight, Spider looks even worse. The wounds on his body from the fall are raw, and the bruising on his wrists looks awful. Jake watches as Spider wraps his fingers over his wrist gingerly, trying to cover it up as Kiri tries not to stare.

Tuk tears Jake’s attention back to her, and seeing her smile when their eyes meet makes Jake grin in response, and he lets himself slip into playing with her for a bit, because she needs him, too.

For a moment, he’s lost in it, loving the sound of his daughter’s laugh and, in the sunlight that makes all of the night’s threats feel smaller, it feels like life might move on, like he can be a dad again. That is, until he sees Spider hurrying out of the hut, a pile of dishes clutched awkwardly in his arms.

Jake scrambles to his feet, his head protesting loudly and making the world tilt briefly, and goes after him, hating the way Tuk whines as he hands her over to Neytiri. He doesn’t give himself a chance to meet Neytiri’s eyes before he’s out of the hut and following Spider because, Eywa help him, he can’t let Spider disappear again, not after last night. Not after everything.

Jake doesn’t run after him, and Spider can tell that he’s following him, but they walk in silence, as Spider leads them back to the river.

Ah, here they are, again.

As Spider sinks to the ground and tries to set the plates down without any of them rolling into the water, Jake comes to sit beside him.

‘What are you doing?’ Jake says, and he tries to make it sound like an honest question. He doesn’t think he succeeds.

‘I’m washing the dishes,’ Spider says. He won’t look at Jake, and the air feels suddenly thick long before the humidity should be rising.

‘Why?’

‘They need washing.’

Why won’t Spider look at him? After all the terror Spider endured last night, how can he pull away now?

‘Yes, but why are you doing it?’

Spider doesn’t answer him, and instead turns his head sharply to the river, where Jake can’t see his face.

Jake watches as Spider picks up a bowl and the brush, and Jake wants to stop him, but he has a feeling that to do so wouldn’t help whatever is going on with Spider now. Spider leans down to the water, and it’s got to be too cold for him. Spider doesn’t flinch as he dunks his hands in, nor when he tries to grip the bowl in the current which would pull on his wrist.

He’s hurting himself, and Jake thinks about all that Spider has been doing over the past few days, the way he’s been running off and hiding while he works himself to collapse, and he thinks of yesterday (god, was it only yesterday?) that Spider had said that all of that horrible shit that happened to him didn’t matter, and the way that Spider would rather push himself off a cliff than let Jake fall alone, and Jake hates the image that he is seeing in front of him more and more.

Spider gasps when the scrubbing motion pulls at his shoulder, and Jake’s hands twitch to grab him.

‘You’re hurting yourself.’

Ah, the penny drops. Like a veil ripped from Jake’s vision, he sees exactly what Spider is doing, what he has been doing, since Jake had found him delirious with fever in the morgue.

Its self-punishment.

‘I’m fine,’ Spider says. Jake doesn’t believe it anymore. Spider carries on, and Jake watches as Spider’s body coils, the way his eyes grow watery, and Jake hates this.

‘Alright, you’ve made your point. Enough now,’ Jake says, and Spider glares at him. Spider’s stubbornness is like looking right at himself, and Jake feels a pang of guilt for ever calling Spider Quaritch’s son. Looking at him now, his arms trembling and his jaw set, Jake sees that Spider got everything he has, everything he is, from Pandora. And he was taken away for so, so long. ‘I’m serious, you’re going to hurt yourself more if you carry on.’

‘I’ll be quick,’ Spider says. ‘I just gotta--’

‘Stop,’ Jake says, and he pulls the brush out of Spider’s grip, unable to watch the way Spider flinches anymore. ‘Just… stop.’

Spider’s arms are trembling when Jake takes them, and his hands are ice cold from the water. Spider makes a noise of protest, and Jake tries to hold him gently, to stop him pulling away again.

Jake has been very, very good at letting Spider slip away. Over and over again. Jake’s eyes flit over the wounds all over Spider, his body a tapestry of Spider’s battles he has been fighting just out of Jake’s eyeline, just beyond Jake’s understanding, and it took until Spider literally threw himself off a cliff rather than let Jake go for him to see it.

If this had been one of his own children, starved and beaten and crumbling in front of him, Jake would feel sick with inadequacy, with his failure to protect the very people who were his entire world. So… it’s got to mean something that his stomach is turning as Spider curls forward in front of him. He…

Jake can’t let another one go. He can’t.

And Spider has been falling, and falling, and only now can Jake see it. ‘I know what you’re doing, and you don’t have to anymore, okay? You don’t have to punish yourself like that,’ Jake says.

'I'm not--'

'Don't lie to me.' Jake tries not to let it come out too harsh, and Spider doesn’t flinch. Maybe… maybe he can do this, maybe he can reach Spider like this.

‘I do,’ Spider says.

Jake’s heart squeezes.

‘No, you don’t.’ Spider’s tiny hands clench in Jake’s, and Jake presses his thumbs beneath Spider’s fingers, prying them open, and rubs at Spider’s palms. They’re so cold against Jake’s skin. He tries to be slow and gentle, trying more than anything to avoid hurting Spider anymore. ‘Look at me, Spider.’

It takes a moment, but Spider does. That itself gives Jake just the smallest hope.

‘I am going to say something to you now, and I want you to listen to it, okay? It wasn’t your fault,’ Jake says.

Spider’s face scrunches up immediately, and for a moment Jake’s heart stops. Spider’s eyes flick between Jake’s, and Jake gets the feeling that he’s being searched for something that Spider desperately wants to find.

‘What?’ Spider says finally, the word falling from his lips like he almost didn’t mean to say it.

It’s a question, it’s an invitation, it’s enough for now.

Jake steels himself. ‘I said it wasn’t your fault. Not with the RDA, not with Quaritch, and not with Tonowari. Nothing of what happened to you was your fault.’

‘But I’m a human,’ Spider says, and oh. Oh, how Jake wishes he could go back in time, back and back and back until Spider is still a tiny child, still yet to learn all the hatred towards humans, all the disgust that Spider will turn into himself, all the shame that Jake has been able to let go with his family beside him.

He can’t do that, though. All he can do is hold the child in front of him and coax out all of that pain. He might be too late.

‘Eywa forgive me, I should have noticed sooner.’

‘Noticed what?’ Spider says, his voice suddenly sharp. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Spider, you are a human, and you are just a child, and you were put in situations that you didn't deserve. It wasn't your fault,’ Jake says.

‘Yes, it was.’

‘It’s not your fault. You are not a monster.’ And Spider’s eyes widen just a little, and Jake knows he’s hit Spider where it hurts. Where someone has hurt him. Who has taught you that you are a monster? Jake thinks, and he prays and prays and prays that it wasn’t him. ‘You’re good, Spider.’

‘Why are you doing this?’ Spider says tugging again on his hands, and Jake holds him because in that moment, to let Spider go might be make sure Jake loses him. ‘Jake--’

Spider’s voice is tight. He’s upset.

And he’s so small.

Jake can’t help it. He pulls Spider in and tucks him against his chest. He holds him, even as Spider begins to thrash.

‘Let go of me, let go!’ Spider struggles, but Jake tries to keep him from hurting himself.

Jake hushes him, and it just seems to make Spider struggle harder.

‘It wasn’t your fault,’ Spider punches him. ‘It wasn’t your fault.’ Spider scratches him, and it stings where Spider lashes out, but Jake can’t bring himself to care, not now, not when Spider thinks he’s a monster. ‘I know, kid. I know it hurts. But it wasn’t your fault.’

Listen to me, Jake pleads. Please, just listen.

‘Stop,’ Spider’s voice breaks, and he tries to twist out of Jake’s hold.

‘I know it feels like a fire in your mind that you can’t put out,’ Jake says. 'I know what it feels like, and I can see it in you. I should have seen it sooner, I'm so sorry.'

Jake rubs his hand down Spider’s back, and like a switch, Spider stills. Jake swallows his concern; the words touch starved lighting up in his brain in memories so faded with time he can’t pin them down.

‘I don't know what to do,’ Spider says, his voice strained. ‘I don't know how to make it go away.’

‘You can’t,’ Jake says. He curls around Spider, pressing him in where his heart aches for Spider. He lowers his head, pressing his cheek to Spider’s ear. ‘You can’t make it go away, but you can make it hurt less.’

‘How?’

He sounds so lost. Jake squeezes his eyes shut.

‘It just takes time, kiddo. And love.’

Spider is quiet, and goes boneless in Jake’s arms, and if Jake wasn’t so desperate for any sign that he was getting through to Spider, he would have savoured that closeness more.

‘I don’t have any of that,’ Spider says.

And oh. Oh, how that twists a knife so deep into Jake’s heart, it reaches right through to the worst part of him.

He’s failed. Jake has failed so catastrophically that it blooms like acid in his chest and reaches all the way up his throat.

He swallows and tries to bear it. He curls even further around Spider, and he’s shaking so softly that for a moment Jake feels like he’s holding Spider’s own beating heart in his palm.

‘You do,’ Jake says against his ear, so softly. Jake wraps his arms around Spider, ‘I didn’t before, but I see you now, Spider. I see you.’

I see you.

I see you.

I promise, I see you now.

Spider goes tense again, and his voice is so soft that Jake barely hears it above the trickle of the brook beside them when he speaks.

‘How?’

Jake stutters. ‘I needed some help, I’ll admit,’ Jake starts. He feels the knife edge again, that if he says the wrong thing now, that he could lose Spider. ‘But I can see you now, all of you.’ Jake squeezes the nape of Spider’s neck, right where Spider’s queue would be if he were Na’vi. ‘And it’s easy… because you are good.’ Jake tries to ease the tenseness from Spider’s body, and he hopes that now, this close, Spider might, might be able to hear him. ‘You are kind, and generous, and strong, and even though others wanted to beat that out of you, they couldn’t. Because you’re one of us.’ Believe me, please believe me. ‘And it’s not your fault that they tried,’ Jake finishes.

Spider is crying. He can’t wipe away his tears, and they trace heartbroken little lines down his cheeks where Jake can see them, and Spider tries to hide them. He turns his face into Jake’s chest.

‘I never wanted to hurt anyone,’ Spider says.

‘I know,’ Jake replies, and he rubs his hand down Spider’s back again. Yet, you have been hurt, and hurt, and hurt just for the way you look.

Oh, child…

Spider collapses into Jake, and he cries. He has to remove his mask to wipe at his tears with his wrists and his palms, but it hurts his shoulder and his bruises, so Jake pulls his arms away- and when Spider’s arms come back up again to hide his face Jake gently takes them down again- and does it for him. He rubs at the tears with his thumbs quickly, places the mask back, and they settle again, and Spider’s hitched breathing ebbs and flows, and it’s such a small and soft cry, it’s like Spider can’t bring himself to make any sound.

Until they check for the tracker, and Jake doesn’t find one.

Then Spider screams.

Jake has to squeeze his eyes shut, press his hand to his diaphragm to calm the despair, because it’s so painful to see Spider like this, crumpled to the ground under weight of his misery. Spider had been ripped away from his home, from this family, and he endured it all alone.

Eventually Spider stops and goes quiet. ‘I’m sorry, son,’ Jake says.

‘It’s okay,’ Spider croaks. He sits up, his eyes glazed as he stares over Jake’s shoulder. ‘Okay,’ Spider sighs finally. ‘Okay, I’m okay.’

Jake sees the way that Spider blinks, and tries to hold onto himself, and he can’t help but smile. He’s not okay, not even a little bit, but Jake sees him now. He sees all of Spider’s broken edges; his guilt, his shame, his loneliness, and if there’s one thing Jake knows it’s how to take all that and turn it into something good and worthwhile. It just takes time.

That’s fine, they have time.

Jake moves to sit beside the river, and he takes up where Spider left off washing the dishes. The water is seriously cold, but he makes sure to take his time as he scrubs. He gives Spider as much time as he can, and Jake lets Spider just sit while he washes, until Spider’s eyes land on the things around him again, and his movements handing Jake the bowls are less sluggish.

When they finish, Jake breaks the silence. ‘Alright,’ Jake says finally, grunting as he places his hands on his knees and pushes himself to stand up. ‘I think we’ve earned our lunch; don’t you think?’

Spider nods, and he’s steadier on his feet as he stands.

‘Let’s go home,’ Jake says, picking up the dishes. He pauses and turns to put a hand on Spider’s head. ‘You gonna be okay?’

Spider pauses. ‘Not yet, I don't know.’

‘That's okay,' Jake says. Because Jake can give Spider time, and he will give him love, and with a little bit of luck Spider might be able to let go of that shame and see himself as he is.

Monster, Jake scoffs in the privacy of his own mind as he rambles to Spider about meaningless things. As if a boy with a smile that warm and a heart that big could ever be a monster.

Jake has seen monsters, and he will never let them take another son from him.