Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It's all wrong. 

The Colonel doesn't know what it is, but the feeling won't leave. It's wrong. There were too many strange smells, and the uniform was too tight. It scraped against his skin like tiny hooks; the sterile environment was nauseating. Every step in his boots was painful. Every step felt crushing. 

Nothing matches. The smell of humans was revolting, their sweat and obsession with coffee; he's supposed to love coffee, though.

His memories detail a yearning for the hot bean water, the burst of caffeine and heat running down his throat. The first time he tried drinking any, he emptied his stomach onto the floor. It was atrocious, like fluids from a burst haemorrhoid or liquidated shit. 

The Colonel needed to smoke, but tobacco produced the same result. He needed to scowl, but it didn't come naturally. 

Everything is wrong. 

He's suffocated by everything around him. 

The sterileness of the RDA facilities that once brought comfort was an atrocity to his senses. Whatever they used to keep the place clean made him feel constantly sick. The smell burnt his nostrils; it stuck to his teeth and the back of his throat. There was no escape from it.

There was too much noise; the lights buzzed, and nobody would fix them. He heard electricity everywhere, running machines and other trivial crap that never bothered him before. The lights shouldn't burn his eyes; they kept blinking, but nobody would listen.

Why is this happening? 

When he caught himself in the mirror or any reflection, he didn't know who was staring back. Those yellow eyes weren't that of an experienced, war-hardened Colonel; they were fresh, like that of a rookie that's never even held a rifle before. 

Colonel Miles Ezekiel Quaritch doesn't flinch from gunfire or combat. But he froze. He felt panic at Walker's carcass, almost cradling her remains as he pulled to cover. Even in the earliest days of his career, he didn't freeze.

The contradictions only rise. It doesn't fit. 

Quaritch liked women; that was a fact. He used to, at least, as his new body showed intrigue on both ends of the spectrum. How was he supposed to deal with that? Why does he even care? 

He cared about the wrong things. And the Colonel didn't care about the things that he should. 

The RDA had been everything to him since his youth; he didn't have anything else after his parents died. He would've ended up in prison like all the other forgotten rats in New Louisiana. He was in the marines since he turned fourteen.

It wasn't unusual for kids from his background to lie about their age, and the RDA wasn't concerned. So long as they had capable soldiers, they didn't mind if they happened to be younger than legally preferred. 

He was good at it. He never got the chance to be anything else. 

Thoughts like those don't belong to him. Quaritch never doubted the RDA like that. 

He did now, however. He didn't care about his rank, whoever Ardmore was or whatever the RDA wanted; they meant almost nothing to him. As much as Quaritch tried to give a damn, he couldn't. 

It's all wrong. 

Walker, Warren, Brown, Fike and Zhang are dead. He didn't get to know them, but they're gone. He couldn't even get to bury them. It's a guilt that he never allowed himself to feel before. Many died on Pandora; it was to be expected. 

It affected him as though it was his first time seeing death.

Another confusing thing he couldn't process was his own body, the skeletal remains left to decay in that AMP suit. The Colonel knew that he was supposed to be that person, but all he saw was a skull that got others killed; it disgusted him. 

Everything disgusted him. Especially the crap they dare claim as food. Being near the stuff made him nauseous. 

It's crashing and burning and immolating, churning from the inside out. There's no reprieve from the screaming or the demand to be outside and be free. 

It's so hard to keep himself from hissing, from whacking his tail into the tiny gremlins that looked at him as though he were a thing. The way they spoke about him was reminiscent of a tool to be picked from a toolbox; he hated it. 

He's not a thing. 

What is he, though? Because these hands don't belong to Quaritch. These emotions don't. He's meant to be that man, but how? Memories aren't what makes a person them - it doesn't fit. 

"What do you want?"

The young voice pulled him from the bottomless pit. 

There's so much wrong, but he isn't one of them. The moment that Quaritch saw him, something in his head snapped into place. 

Protect. Defend. Provide. Care. Teach. Feed. They ran through his mind like a broken record. 

It'd been going well these past few months. Quaritch got to experience the skies atop Cupcake, explore parts of Pandora and grow with his team. He even managed to get Spider to start teaching him better na'vi. 

His southern accent is thick and stubborn. It makes the language harder to pronounce. 

"To be anywhere but here," the Recom said, leaning against the cold, dead wall.

It was too claustrophobic. Has he got claustrophobia? That sucks. 

His boy stayed curled against the wall, covering himself with the thin, itchy blanket provided in their quarters. They were meant to ride out tomorrow and search the islands. 

He was explicitly ordered to use lethal force if the natives didn't comply. If it was Parker, Quaritch could've talked his way out of it. However, Ardmore's an immovable object; she won't settle for less than scalped corpses. 

If Ardmore decided that Spider was in the way, she would take him away. There's only so much that Quaritch can do. 

Even in his old life, Quaritch was somewhat sympathetic to the na'vi. He had a job to do, as did they. It started like that, at least. After burying so many good men, women and in-between, he lost much compassion for the natives. 

Quaritch especially recalled a young science puke, Merîvan Heliz, a fresh-faced Kurdish girl who couldn't have been older than twenty-three.

She was supposed to be with Grace's posse, but Heliz got ordered to accompany a mining entourage - something about a suspicious plant. He never understood botany; that was Augustine's niche. 

He remembered getting an urgent call that they were getting attacked. Those weren't fighters or soldiers; those people were only a threat to rocks and bugs that squatted in the dirt. He knew some of them, he knew of their families and their aspirations to get out of the RDA's bullshit. 

Contrary to what Augustine liked to proclaim, the na'vi aren't a treehugger monolith. Different clans are like separate species.

Heliz was unfortunate enough to meet the wrath of the Ayroa. A particularly nasty group of blues that even the mighty Grace couldn't sweet talk. 

Quaritch remembered vividly hopping off a Samson, gun in his hands, having to take cover while fighting. Though many jungle clans liked bows and arrows, the Ayroa made a makeshift crossbow; it shot dozens of tiny darts into you. Those little needles were soaked in an agonising neurotoxin meant to paralyse you. 

It didn't kill you because they liked to eat their prey alive. Preferably awake, too. They even ate other na'vi. Cannibalism wasn't on the brochure to the green inferno of the Pandoran jungles. 

After chasing the bastards off, they got to the captives. They were too late to save any of them; the neurotoxin didn't have an antidote; it wouldn't be created for another three years. 

He found Heliz strung up like a butchered cow, still alive, though barely. He cut her down, feeling her blood rush from her cold, shaking body. The girl couldn't move, but he saw the fear and pain in her eye - the other had gotten torn out. He still saw the fingernail scratches around the socket. 

That poor girl shouldn't have been there in the first place. It was a week before he met Topaz Socorro, the mother of the kid he wasn't supposed to be capable of having. 

There wasn't time to get her anywhere. There wasn't any treatment, especially as she was bleeding out. The only thing he could do was put an end to her agony. 

It was one of the few times he almost threw Parker outside without a mask. He almost shot Grace, too, after she tried to justify the Ayroa's attack. 

You got sick of her garbage when you saw the consequences of inaction. The Ayroa stopped bothering the RDA after Quaritch dumped juicy napalm into their village. It sent a loud and clear message - fuck with me, and you'll burn.

"Then why are you here?" Spider grumbled, audibly upset.

Quaritch felt his ears perk upwards, alert. 

"I'm going to be straight with you, kid. Shit's going to get bad real fast," the Recom said, his tone causing the boy to remove the covers, looking at him fearfully. "We know that Jake Sully's somewhere in an archipelago - our orders are to search villages for him, explicitly with lethal force. People will die. And you'll have to be our translator."

"I'm not doing that!"

Understandable. Quaritch would much rather be elsewhere doing something else, but he can't. 

"If you ain't in my sight, Spider, you'll get dragged back to the lab coats, and I won't be there to stop it. Ardmore won't stop, either. She'll scoop through your head until you're a brain-dead bag of meat. You stay by my side, or I can't protect you." 

So much doesn't matter. He's angry with Jake, but he also doesn't give a shit. How hard is it to kill one jackass with a gun?

Admittedly, Quaritch was never trying to find him. He'd prefer flying with his son and squad, fishing or other things. 

Sully can go fuck himself; Quaritch couldn't care less for the annoying gnat. 

He watched the teenager process the information given. There wasn't any pleasant way to say it, unfortunately. If Quaritch was going to protect his boy, he needed to be close. 

"Why can't you ignore her? Aren't you meant to be big in the army?"

"A General outranks a Colonel. It's like you ignoring the orders of a clan leader; that shit doesn't fly, does it?"

"No..."

"All you have to do is translate. After that, I can order Lyle to take you away when things don't go well," Quaritch stated, knowing that no matter what the ocean na'vi said, some would die. It was what Ardmore wanted; a powerful message. "You won't have to see it."

The boy's seen enough already.

Pandora's no place for a child. 

"Why do you care?" Spider asked, pulling the itchy blanket over his shoulders. "You don't get anything out of protecting me."

"I cared the moment I realised who you were, small fry. It wasn't my choice to care about your ass, but I do. Keeping you fed, warm and safe are my priority. It's tough tits for both of us." 

He didn't choose to care so much for the boy. It just happened, and he has to go with it. 

They're a clan of their own, alone on a giant moon. 

It confused him to see Spider scrunch his face, trying to understand the words. He thought it was clear.

The Colonel will do everything he can to defend this kid. 

"Why do you call me Spider?"

"Because that's what you wanna be called. That an issue?"

"It's not what I want to be called. It's just what everybody's called me since I was a baby." 

"Do you want me to keep using it?"

"Yeah. No. I dunno; don't be so... nice about it."

Now Quaritch is more confused. Is he supposed to stick to the nickname or not?

Let's use logic and deduce why this has risen from the shadows. Everybody called Spider by that nickname; what was the issue? It doesn't seem like a negative nickname like Dunce or Moron, the names that Lyle should have stamped on his stupid bald head. 

Getting the sense that something was up, the Recom sat on the far too small bed. His tail curled on the mattress, the end lightly brushing against Spider's back. 

Even though Spider is easily six feet tall, he's so small. Next to Quaritch, he was tiny. 

The stripes are fading. They'll have to reapply them. Quaritch doesn't understand why Spider's so adamant about them, but he knows they're important to him. It's also funny to watch Prager and Lopez try to get the stuff needed. They're idiots. 

"I'm no psychic, but I sense something's bothering you. Other than the obvious, of course."

It's nice when Spider isn't wearing the mask. It feels like a barrier between them. 

He can see more of Topaz's eyes in Spider like this. 

The kid got his old curls, though. Nobody was allowed to know that he was curly; keeping it shot ensured that. Even when dead, his father was a prick, passing those stupid genes to him. 

"You're too nice."

"That ain't what I'm usually called, but thanks."

"No. You're not supposed to be. You're meant to be mean and evil."

"You shouldn't determine somebody's character if you ain't met them."

Well, some people. Hitler was a cunt. The man was dead for centuries, but Quaritch heard all about him from Trevor, the useless sperm donor. It'd be a good day that he died if not for the fact he took Quaritch's mother with him. That's something Spider can probably relate to. 

He never wanted this. He was never meant to be a father. Quaritch got snipped to ensure that history wouldn't repeat itself, but sometimes it heals; Spider was proof of that. 

Does Spider want any of that information? To know about his family? Quaritch knew a little about Paz's. 

"Everybody told me about you."

"Probably nobody that knew me." Maybe he should? Tell the boy about his fucked up little family of misery. "You'd know why you've got that name because, funnily enough, it wasn't after me. Paz didn't even know my first name until after you were born." 

The boy's brown eyes widened slightly, intrigued to hear about his mother. 

Has nobody talked to him about his mother? If they'd met her, they would've known that already. It wasn't a secret that she accidentally gave Spider the same name as Quaritch. It was a massive joke for weeks. 

Wainfleet still jokes about him over it. 

"If it's not from you, then from where?"

"Your mama was into this little show - it's like a story you watch - from a long time ago: Deep Space Nine. I don't know what it was about, but Paz could talk about it for hours. You were named after her favourite character - Miles O'Brien."

He never understood it. Even so, it made Paz happy. They were a friends-with-benefits situation. The opposite of what he had with Grace; they almost killed each other so many times. 

Their relationship was confusing. A handful of times, they tolerated each other for the sake of the people around them. Other than that, it was fantasising about burying one another alive. To add to the confusion, they fucked. Twice. It was out of pure hatred but still. 

It was also strange that they refused to address it afterwards. Especially the second time; that was with her avatar. Geez, how much did they drink for that?

Whatever they had, he needed some of that. Something powerful and possibly lethal. Can't Prager make some decent moonshine?

"I thought it was from you."

"Nope. I suggested that Topaz change it, but she gave you my middle name instead. Not like I could say otherwise; Paz was a determined woman. She got what she wanted, especially you." 

His son is more relaxed. Talking about Topaz has helped him a little.

"What's your middle name?"

"Ezekiel."

"What the hell is that?"

"Off the top of my head, I think it's a Hebrew prophet or angel or whatever - my family was Jewish. Even my father, weirdly enough. I hate him so much, even though he's dead." 

He wished that Trevor died slower than he did. 

"What'd he do?"

"Usual shit. Abusive, verbally but sometimes physically. At thirteen, he killed my mother. She was a good woman, too. She did everything she could for us. That son of a bitch took away one of the few good people left," the Recom said coldly, feeling himself detach from the information. "He's why I never wanted to be a father. But you're here, and I gotta take responsibility for that." 

He won't be like that excuse of a man. He won't put Spider in the position that Nate took. He won't let it happen. 

Nathan never should've had to do that. 

Why did he do it? What finally pushed Trevor to kill his mother? No matter the answer, it wouldn't be reasonable or fathomable. 

Good people suffer the most. 

"Us? You have siblings?" Spider asked, shuffling a little to face the giant.

Even for na'vi, Quaritch realised that he was tall. He was the tallest in the squad. He didn't even know why. Quaritch was average in height when a human. Why is he gigantic as a blue guy?

"I had siblings. Three. There was Nathaniel; he was older than me by three minutes - identical twins suck. He joined some stupid Terra Nova thing and has been missing for nearly twenty-five years. Eleanor was my younger sister; she's been dead for thirty or so years. Scarlett was the youngest; she joined a resistance group. No idea where she is now or if she's alive." 

Ellie didn't deserve what happened to her. Nate was never the same after Ayani died, and neither was his kid, Lucas. Scarlett is probably dead.

Thinking about it, Spider was all the family that Quaritch had left. Most of Trevor and his mother's family were dead by the time he was eight; the coup in New Louisiana was a bitter time. A lot of people died during the riots. 

The only reason they even survived was thanks to Rafael Holland. He was his guardian for some time - Rafael even helped him find a new surname. 

That wouldn't be a struggle if not for his last tour in Nigeria.

Rafael betrayed him, and that's a mental scar that'll never leave. 

Everybody he's gotten close to dies or betrays him horrifically. No wonder Quaritch has so many issues when it comes to relationships. 

"I've lost a lot of people in my life," Quaritch continued, feeling his ears flat against his head. "So, so many good people died here, kid. I've had to bury many mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, sons, daughters and everything in between. I've had to bury children. More often than not, they weren't even soldiers - do you know the main cause?"

His son diverted his dark eyes, visibly deciphering the words. All that Spider knew was the good side of the na'vi, but every coin has an opposing face. 

They didn't tell the kid anything about what went on. Did they not bother to inform him that nobody was innocent? The na'vi were victims of the RDA's greed, and nobody would deny that, but why target civilians? 

There's nothing like pulling an arrow the size of you out of a child's face. Kareem Shammas was only five years old, and some dickhead on a banshee deemed him a threat. 

Quaritch watched as Spider looked at him again; he stank of nervousness. 

"You shouldn't have been here in the first place."

Quaritch could hear the boy's doubt. He knew that it was a weak argument. 

"It wasn't much of an option for us, kid. Can't blame you for that, though; you've never been to Earth," Quaritch sighed, his mind wandering to where he grew up. "I was born and raised in the sticks. It wasn't until your age I had clean water for the first time. The air was so thick you could chew it, drowning above water. You join the military and become part of a corp like the RDA, or you die. Ain't an in-between." 

It's a stereotypical story. Southern trash joined the military with nowhere else to go. He needed the money to keep his sisters fed and clothed. The masks were so expensive. Everything cost so much, and those tours took a lot out of him.

He had Colonel Rafael Holland watching his back. Then Rafael betrayed him. He was like a true father to him. 

Both of his fathers were twats; Rafael was better at hiding it. 

Earth was nothing but skyscrapers, misery and gunfire. The reason he managed to get to Pandora was technically illegal. He was going to be court-martialed for doing the right thing, but Parker stepped in.

The little man liked what he saw in Quaritch's records, even the redacted stuff. They wanted that kind of decision-making on Pandora to protect the employees from the hostiles. 

He should've told Parker to go fuck himself, given what he's been through in this hellhole. 

"How many people did you bury?"

"I always said that I didn't count. I did. I remembered every face. On Earth, there's no space, so they burn the bodies like trash. Those folk deserved more; they got funerals. I dug the graves myself. I dug nearly one hundred thousand." 

Not all of them were human. He dug graves for na'vi as well. It was partially malicious, denying them whatever their funeral practice was for taking so many of his people. 

If they targeted the soldiers, that was one thing. Soldiers can fight back. Botanists, zoologists, geologists, and other science pukes couldn't. They were the weak, thus, the most in danger. Despite Grace's nagging, he managed to get an order that every quack outside had a soldier with them.

Nobody was allowed out after dark. That was for their protection as well. The na'vi and native fauna liked to be extra mean at night. 

On day one, the Valkyrie he rode in on crashed. It sucked and hurt a lot. For eighteen days, he and Wainfleet were left to wander towards Hell's Gate on foot. Most of the group he was with died from the crash. Quaritch got his signature scar from a pissed-off thanator looking for dinner.

Marine wasn't on the menu, but that ugly space jaguar sure was. Despite the awful taste, they had to eat something. 

He still remembered dragging Lyle's unconscious ass through the gates, bloodied and messed up, mask malfunctioning and delirious as fuck. It was how they met, and the two were almost inseparable afterwards. 

And Topaz Socorro was the one who helped him pull Lyle into the building because Quaritch wasn't letting that idiot go. 

"I don't want to see anybody die."

"And I'll do what I can to ensure you don't, kid. It ain't much, but it's something." 

"I'd say I want to go home, but I didn't have one to start with."

"Your home's with us. Not the quacks and idiots with guns; you're with us. I'll have Z-Dog and Prager stay with you, so you aren't alone. I don't trust anybody here that ain't striped." 

Keep the kid away from Ardmore. That's all he can do for now. 

There is so much wrong with him, but this kid isn't one of them.

"I'm always alone."

There's a sad plainness to that statement. The kid isn't angry or upset over it; it's like a fact, such as the colour of the sky or how Lopez's singing isn't as good as he thinks it is. 

Why did Spider feel alone? Didn't he have friends? Somebody he grew up with? 

Though he didn't mean to, his tail curled slightly around Spider, the end flicking onto his thigh. It had a mind of its own. 

"Why's that?" the Recom asked, trying to lower his tone. He's always spoken with confidence and authority, but that didn't fit here. 

His son shouldn't feel alone. He deserved better. 

The young lad looked back to the Recom, somewhat confused by Quaritch's genuine intrigue. The kid looked at his tail and then back to his face but not at his eyes; those brown spheres shifted as Quaritch's ears twitched. Is Spider following some weird body language that Quaritch didn't know about?

Whatever he was looking for, it was enough for Spider. 

"Nobody wanted me. I got used to it. The na'vi kids with me were my friends; they were enough." 

"You didn't have anybody looking after you?"

"They left me with the McCoskers, but they hated me. Nash would drink a lot; he was always annoyed with me. Every time I came back from the forest, he always said, "they got sick of you". Sounds a little like your dad."

But Spider didn't have any armour or weapons; a little arrow wouldn't do much against a thanator or pissed off titanothere. They let him run around in the forest alone. As a grown-ass man with combat experience, Quaritch struggled out there. It was so, so dangerous for humans. 

Soldiers inside AMP suits were still at risk of death, let alone a teenager bordering on naked. They let him do that? Why!?

That wasn't nearly as infuriating as McCosker, though, because Quaritch knew about that man. He hated that bastard. The alcoholic was a prick, and being a waste of space was one of the few things he and Grace could agree on. It was nepotism bullshit; he only got the position because Nash's daddy was high in the RDA's hierarchy.

Of all the people, they left his son with that asshole? McCosker wasn't even nice to his kids.

There had to be somebody better who could've cared for Spider. Somebody responsible enough not to let a child run around a lethal jungle. 

Quaritch didn't even realise the deep, guttural snarl emanating from his throat. It sounded like a Viperwolf made a hybrid with a jet engine. His blood was boiling, and his tail was rigid with anger. 

He wanted to hunt everybody who neglected his boy and introduce them to the consequences of their inaction. They would endure 9'5 feet of whoop-ass and feral paternal rage. 

If he saw McCosker anywhere, Quaritch would gladly provide an arrangement with the pavement. He'd brush his teeth with wet concrete. 

It's like what he used to do with Grace, such as putting itching powder in her cigarettes, only he wants McCosker to die. Slowly. 

"Anybody look at you wrong, tell me, and I'll take care of it," Quaritch said coldly, his ears flat against his head. "I'll make a necklace out of their coccyx if they even try. I promise you that." 

"You're angry, but not at me?"

"The fuck would I be mad at you for? You haven't done anything. At worst, you make Ardmore's life difficult."

That's not a bad thing. He doesn't like that woman. 

"Are you going to stay tonight?"

"Me or somebody else. I can get Z-Dog or Mansk if you'd prefer." 

"No. You're fine."

So far, so good. Stay close and keep him safe. 

Let him have a moment of peace before it goes tits up. 

Honestly, Spider didn't like the SeaDragon. 

He spent his life in the forest and mountains; Spider didn't know the ocean. He'd never seen it until Miles and the Recoms. It was big and blue, and its salty fragrance permeated the ship. It took a while to get used to the waves. 

But he knew that the moment he stepped off the ship, there would be pain and death. It was an unhappy compromise. 

"What're you doing, small fry?" grinned Lyle, the bald Recom leaning over the teen's shoulder. "See anything cool?"

"No. It's too dark," Spider said, watching the dark blue waves. It was somewhat disappointing that he couldn't see anything. 

Lyle's Ikran, Whiskey, descended from the sky, landing on the top of the bridge. He chirped at them, lowering his head to meet his rider. The boisterous Ikran climbed down, nudging his head against Spider's back. 

It wasn't a good sign. 

In the distance, Spider saw an island. There were a few, but this one looked different. It looked inhabited. A knot churned in Spider's stomach, knowing what was coming next. 

The righthand man of Miles patted Spider's shoulder, silently knowing the cause of Spider's sudden bout of anxiety. 

"It's gonna be alright, small fry," Lyle said, attempting to alleviate Spider's discomfort. It didn't work. 

Soon, the rest of the team exited the bridge, waiting for their mounts to collect them. As usual, Spider would ride with Miles. 

Miles wasn't supposed to survive taming an Ikran, especially the one that chose him.

Sezetukru, the blue warrior, a huntress of the skies that slew any that attempted to mount her. Her brilliant colours were unmistakable; she was well known to the Omaticaya for her ferocity and mercilessness. Those seeking an Ikran were always advised to steer clear of her hungry gaze; the ones foolish enough to approach her wouldn't return in one piece. 

In a way, Spider hoped that her reputation would endeavour. He wanted the mighty Ikran to defeat the phantom.

It stunned him when Miles punched her in the face, though. He jumped on her back, refusing to get off, managing to avoid Eankxitx's gnashing jaws.

When she lept from the cliffs, Spider felt fear and guilt that he got the guy killed. The sad looks on the other Recoms hurt him; they loved the man that wore his "father"'s face. 

But he survived. Not only did he live, but he rode her as though he'd done it for his entire life. 

Astonishingly, Miles was a natural and talented flyer. He bonded with the fiercest Ikran and earned her respect; she'd lift her neural whip to him before he even reached for his queue. It was a level of trust that took a long time to gain, often months, but she did it within the first week. 

She let Spider ride on her neck. It took years for an Ikran to be comfortable enough to allow a second hunter, but she let him do it within the same day that Miles tamed her. 

It wasn't only her that he managed to bond with either, because Spider's seen him perform tsaheylu to the other Ikran. When Miles thought that Spider was asleep, he watched the man casually connect to Whiskey without an issue. 

That wasn't supposed to happen. It was also weird how Miles preferred riding without a saddle. 

"You ready?" Miles asked, the concern in his voice irritating the teenager. The mighty warrior, renamed after a human snack, lowered her body for him. "Just like we said."

Spider awkwardly climbed onto Cupcake's neck, waiting for Miles next. The man sat behind him, joining the huntress and taking to the air. 

"Do you have to kill somebody?" Spider asked, keeping his gaze away from the tall clone. 

"Those are my orders, so yes. You won't be there to see it," Miles assured. "Mansk's gonna ride back with you when it's time."

Mansk is weird. All the Recoms are odd, but something especially is unique with Mansk. 

The Ikran beneath them glided low over the water, dipping her lower jaw into the ocean to snatch an ugly-looking fish. It wasn't usual for Ikran to casually hunt when joined by their rider; did Miles tell her to fish?

Since Miles didn't know anything about Ikran, Spider doubted that. Even so, he can ask before things get bad. 

"You know, an Ikran doesn't usually hunt when with their rider," Spider started, leaning back to look at the intrigued Recom. 

"She wanted something to eat. Ain't my place to say otherwise."

Cupcake croaked as though she agreed with him, another peculiar oddity. The Ikran all communicated with Miles, eager to share sounds and converse with him. He's even seen Miles try mimicking their sounds. 

The idiot could start to learn Ikran but can't speak Na'vi. 

"That not normal?" Miles asked, his ears flicking with interest and curiosity like a child. 

"No. An Ikran rider's meant to have total control when riding. The Ikran becomes an extension of you."

The confusion on Miles' face was almost cute. 

"I follow her lead. She's the one that knows how to fly; I suggest things." 

Suggest? Follow?

That's not how you ride an Ikran. But Spider's thinking of the Na'vi way and Omaticaya tradition; Miles doesn't know any of that.

He and the other Recoms are like children; they don't know anything. They've not been taught how they should act with animals or plants. They didn't know the correct way to do things. 

It's not like Spider can show them, either. He's only a human. 

Despite that, Miles' weird approach had faster results. The bond with his Ikran was like that of an experienced hunter who's ridden for at least a decade, not three months. 

"Heads up."

Spider cringed at the change in Miles' tone, the serious Colonel taking over. The nice guy who talked to him the other night was gone, hidden behind an angry mask. 

Cupcake roared, spreading her glorious wings before landing on the beach. She snapped at the air, displaying aggression. 

Miles got off first, helping Spider next. The Recom team is already gathering the villagers, guns aimed at them and fingers near the trigger. The cold seriousness in their eyes was frightening. 

Lyle had gone from an oblivious joker to a trained killer, putting his boot on the back of one of the captured na'vi. 

These were their orders. Spider was only here because they could take him otherwise; he didn't want to return to the scientists, but he didn't want this.

The Colonel lifted a holographic screen, poorly demanding the location of Jake. The anger in his eyes was intimidating, more like when they first met. He hadn't seen those eyes for a long time. 

A boat reached the beach, human soldiers jumping off, some in exo-suits that made them as tall as the na'vi. They had their guns ready as well, confirming with the SeaDragon or maybe Bridgehead that they were in the village. 

There wasn't a way to claim they killed somebody if there were witnesses. Some masks had cameras in them; Bridgehead's probably watching.

Miles didn't have a choice but to follow his superior's orders. He has to go through with it; disobeying would endanger Spider. 

When a na'vi, presumably the chief, started talking, there was a problem. The ocean clans had slight differences in the language; Spider didn't know all he was saying. The accent changed too much. 

Those cold eyes turned to Spider, waiting. There was a small apology behind the anger. 

"They're saying that forest na'vi don't go to the ocean," Spider said, worried that the people in Bridgehead also had translators. If Spider lied, they might catch him and get them in trouble. "They don't know anything."

"He's in one of these villages," said a soldier, looking up at Miles. "We'll search the place."

The Colonel provided a signal, informing them to proceed. The soldiers and some of the Recoms started to search the homes, mishandling the innocent people's belongings without care. It disturbed Spider to see the callousness of it. 

The Olo'eyktan and Tsahik protested, begging for mercy and for them to leave. They kept repeating that they didn't know anything. 

Although Spider didn't want them to find Jake, he knew what'd happen if they didn't say something. 

Miles whistled to Mansk, alerting Spider. 

The teenager scrambled to try and warn the leaders, begging them to say something, anything. The na'vi repeated that they knew nothing of Toruk Makto's location, sealing their fate. 

"Come on," Mansk said, lightly nudging Spider's shoulder. 

The na'vi begged Spider to stop it, but he couldn't. Even the Recoms couldn't. 

Miles' mask dropped slightly, letting Spider know he didn't want to do it. Although it wouldn't relieve the pain growing in Spider's heart, it was something to know it wasn't malicious but for his safety. 

To be somebody's priority was new to Spider. He wasn't anybody's priority, not even his best friend's. 

Firefly stepped towards them, lowering herself for the duo. 

Mansk sat Spider on her neck, climbing behind him. Though it wasn't Mansk's fault, Spider preferred riding on Cupcake with Miles. 

They flew back to the ship quickly, going faster than necessary to keep Spider from hearing anything. The Recom kept an arm over the teenager, keeping him steady on the hasty Firefly; she wasn't as cautious as Cupcake. 

Spider didn't wait for Firefly to lower herself before jumping off. He wanted to find somewhere dark and curl into a ball. Unfortunately for him, Mansk had other ideas. 

"You need to eat something," the Recom said, patting Spider's back with his tail.

Though Spider didn't want to eat, he'd get a stern talking to from the others if he refused. They were adamant that he eats all the time, even when unnecessary. He could go a day without food; why be so insistent?

"Do we have to? RDA food sucks," Spider complained.

Thankfully, Mansk agreed with that; the man was obsessed with food but was a good cook.

That could've gone better. 

Lyle bit his lip, watching as the Colonel paced. He didn't do that before dying, but having a new body changed things. They all had different traits, and it was distressing. 

Z-Dog nearly had a panic attack to discover she's not gay anymore; she's straighter than a ruler. It horrified her. Prager's suddenly asexual, which has been super challenging for the guy; he was almost as much of a manwhore as Lyle. 

Thankfully, he's mostly intact. He's gone from bi to pansexual; it opens more doors, even if he can only play with his teammates. Being able to give Z-Dog a great first time with a guy was fun; she's a good friend and deserved such. 

Out of them, the Colonel was the only one to withhold any changes. Given that they all got a new seat on the sexy spectrum, Lyle knew he had something other than straight. 

He never admitted it in his past life, but he had a major crush on the Colonel. The man singlehandedly saved his dumbass after their ship crashed in the jungle. Nothing is hotter than an older guy shoving his hand in a thanator's chest hole and killing it. They even ate it afterwards. 

Lyle didn't know who the Colonel was when he was on the station; he was a surprise addition to their crew. 

The crazy son of a bitch dragged Lyle for eighteen days to Hell's Gate, even with the mask barely working. It was so badass. 

It turned heads in the security division, especially when they discovered he was the new Security Chief. He earned a lot of respect from that, plus Lyle's interest. The dude was hot!

It was annoying that the Colonel was off-limits to the guys; Lyle was eager for some of that. He wasn't alone, either. He knew that Selfridge also had a major crush on the Colonel. 

He was so jealous of Topaz when she hit that. He also knew that the Colonel and Doc Auggie fucked at least once. Lyle had a bet with Parker over who instigated it; Parker had his money on the Colonel. 

Doctor Augustine would've slept with the Colonel to win one of their famous arguments. Those two were vicious when in the same room. He especially loved their little prank war; only a few people knew the Colonel was tormenting Augustine, though it wasn't vice versa. 

Everybody knew that Grace was being petty with the Colonel.

They had no idea he was petty back. 

That son of a bitch learned sign language only to mess with Grace when nobody else was looking. He also glitter-bombed her at least three times. It wasn't real glitter, just painstakingly shredding bits of metal. The effort made it more insulting. 

Now, though, Lyle had a chance. How could he not want some? The Colonel's Recom body was fine. 

He had a tiny, slutty waist that Lyle struggled not to grab onto. His ass was fantastic; even the top bitch herself, Ardmore, couldn't help from staring sometimes. There was so much that Lyle wanted to do to that man. 

"The fuck are you staring at," said the annoying voice of Scoresby.

Lyle blinked, looking at the irritating manbaby. 

"Thinking about the Colonel's ass. You?"

"Fair enough, mate."

A questionable man of decent quality. Nice. 

Something to be said about na'vi anatomy is the downstairs department. It was horrifying to wake up at first; he thought he got a vagina! Not that it was an issue, but he liked having a dick. 

It turns out that na'vi dicks retract inside the body like cat claws. It's weird, too; the thing is somewhat prehensile and moves like a tail. There are a whole lot more nerve endings in it, too. It sends shivers throughout your entire body, a tingling akin to a match dropped onto a lake of oil. 

It's addictive and fun; even mundane masturbation doesn't get old. But getting it on with somebody else was another matter entirely. 

And Lyle knew that nobody's slept with the Colonel yet. They were all open about exploring their new bodies.

Nobody got the courage to talk to him about it, though. Lyle wanted to ensure that his boss was down with vitamin D before giving a dose. 

"How many of the bastards did you shoot?"

"Three," Lyle answered, detached from the whole thing. The Colonel wasn't, which wasn't fair. His body seemed to be an empath. "Gotta try the next village."

"I charge extra for being used as a taxi."

"Take it up with Ardmore. And if you start talking about quotas, I'll use you as fishing bait."

Though Scoresby was an annoying asshole, Lyle could handle it. He spent a lot of time around loudmouth Fike for ages. 

"Better off using that brat you kee-"

The man didn't get a chance to finish the sentence as the Recom's tail lashed against a computer console, cracking a screen. 

Lyle stared at the overweight man, silently warning him to rethink his words. 

"Testy bald fucker, aren't ya?"

"I'll be nice. Once. Then I won't," Lyle said, repeating what the Colonel said. The man seemed to get the message.

The kid's off-limits. 

Chapter Text

There's no more time. 

He waited in the vacant lab, sitting on top of one of the link beds. It looked more like a coffin. Whoever designed it had a morbid sense of humour. 

Things had exacerbated far more over the past three months than in the twelve years he's been on this rock. Attacks are increasing, and as always, they're targeting non-combatants. 

Something needs to happen, and the big wigs upstairs have given the order to make that happen. They were explicit about what they wanted, too. 

"Get your hands off of me!"

The Colonel lifted his head, watching as Fike and Zhang brought the head quack herself to his presence. 

Grace was one of the few people he managed to respect here, albeit one from hate. She was so irritating he wanted to break her nose. Most of the time, anyway. There were rare moments when she was tolerable.

They were too similar; they were people driven by a burning passion that never backed down. Such fiery individuals are tough to cooperate with, though it's also fun. It's a challenge to outdo the other.

It was something less hectic and life-threatening to do. 

The Colonel waved his hand, indicating the soldiers to leave them alone. Though the duo were unsure, they heeded his word. 

After the two left, Grace crossed her arms, scowling at the Security Chief. 

"You know this is wrong," Augustine said, her voice firm and unwavering.

Quaritch knew better, though. He's spent nearly twelve years with this woman; he knew when she would fall apart. 

"Doesn't matter what I think, Doc," Quaritch said, aware of her distress. "There's no more time to buy. The show's over."

"That's it? The genocide of thousands, children, is a show to you?"

"You can pull that crap with Parker, but it won't work with me, Buttercup."

"Don't Buttercup me, Ranger Rick. You know that they attacked that sacred site on purpose; you're only almost as stupid as you try to portray."

What was it with Augustine and insulting compliments?

She wasn't wrong, though. It was entirely likely that they dozed it on purpose. However, that wasn't Quaritch's department - he's in charge of security, not mining. The Doc tended to forget that he lacked a magic wand to make people bend backwards for her.

"The avatar program was never going to work, Grace. You forget that you're working for a business, and the avatars cost money. They were losing more than they could make, and the big wigs don't like it when their little drones drop faster than they can replace." 

Nobody likes the RDA, not even Parker. It's out of desperation and the need to survive. 

He didn't like talking about people as though they were replaceable cogs, but that's how the RDA treated them. It's a language that Grace could follow. 

She always acted so high and mighty, fighting for a futile cause. The RDA was never going to make peace; it wasn't profitable. 

That's all that mattered to the higher-ups. Money. 

"You could've done something!" She yelled, sounding desperate. 

Perhaps Grace was in denial over the situation. However, those four words ignited a furious response.

"I have!" the marine shouted back. "I got you six years, Doc! I put my ass on the line for you to get Dopey, but it was never enough. I tried to give you an inch, but you demanded a mile. Those three months were the last shred of patience the upper crusts had left." 

Different clans are akin to separate countries. The Omaticaya happened to sit on a crap load of stuff that the RDA wanted; it didn't matter whether they fled peacefully or by force. 

Whatever compassion he had left for that clan got buried with the eighteen people who died today. 

"They don't deserve this. I'll admit, many clans have been overly hostile, but not the Omaticaya."

"That doesn't work anymore," Quaritch huffed, hopping off the link bed. He was never intimidated by Grace's height, not even her avatar. "Thanks to your research, we confirmed that the Omaticaya killed those miners and soldiers; a woman burned alive in her AMP suit. There's no ambiguity to hide behind this time." 

It hurt Grace; he could see it. She always stood up for the natives. Unlike her, his sympathy waned over the years. There was only so much he could do or allow himself to feel. 

He's had to bury children, innocent of all but being a human. 

They're both trying to do the best for their people; Grace stopped being human long ago. For whatever reason, Quaritch was the only one to recognise that she was more na'vi than human. It's as though the human was the meat suit, and that blue body was the driver. 

How nobody else has realised this yet was beyond him. She sympathised with them far more than humans. She was biased. 

The woman covered her mouth, vulnerability leaking through the cracks of her shield. He'd only seen her like that a handful of times. He hated the woman with a fiery passion, but she was his equal and had earned that position. 

"That's it, then. You're going to kill them all?" Augustine said, her voice weaker than usual. 

"Preferably, no. We'll use gas to push them out first; it's the best we can do." 

"Do you even understand the amount of devastation destroying that tree will cause?"

"I do. I also understand that if I don't, someone else will, and they won't be willing to go gas first," the Colonel sighed, irritated and annoyed.

As much as he wanted to strangle this woman, he understood her, even if only a little. 

Nobody was going to win in this situation. 

"Let us try, Miles. Something. Anything."

It felt wrong for her to plead like that. It wasn't in her usual assertive voice, either. 

For the first time in a while, Grace seemed human. 

"I'll be there in two hours. Get what you can from Parker, but if you do what I think you're going to do, I'll have to arrest you. Are you going go that route?" 

"I've got to try."

"Don't waste whatever you get."

He opened the door, motioning for Zhang and Fike to come back. They escorted Augustine out; hopefully, she wouldn't try anything too stupid.

Who was he kidding? It'll be beyond outrageous. 

Though the Colonel doubted it'll go in Grace's favour, it's something. She's covered for him a few times; he might as well return the favour. 

As he entered the hallway, he had to pause, watching Zdinarsk running for her life. He was confused, then understood as an adamant quack ran after her. 

Zdinarsk had a phobia of needles and was required to get a shot. 

"You two. Here. Now," Quaritch ordered, snatching their attention. The two reluctantly heeded his orders. "Does this look like a race track to you, Corporal?"

"No, sir," Zdinarsk panted, stepping away from the science puke. "I don't want Dawson sticking anything in me."

"You skipped out on your last shots!" Holly Dawson argued, small but fierce. Or she tried to be, anyway. 

"Corporal, you'll take your shots standing or with me sitting on you. Take your pick." 

When he's not keeping Grace from doing something stupid or Parker from getting a hernia, it's babysitting grown-ass soldiers that should know better. 

This moon will be the death of him. 

Chapter Text

He can tell that it's getting to Miles. The big guy isn't enjoying any of it and looks increasingly frustrated by the day. His patience was waning, and getting the same answers was irritating him. 

There were several problems that Spider was dealing with. One of them was Miles' growth in irritation towards the villages. They've gone to six, but it's the same each time. 

Though Spider knew that Miles didn't enjoy killing the na'vi, that wasn't the big guy's primary concern. The General, Ardmore, kept calling.

Each time Ardmore called the ship, Miles ordered one of the Recoms to take Spider elsewhere. He didn't want Spider to hear her, meaning it involved him. As the man said, she wouldn't hesitate to rip Spider's head apart to get what she wanted. 

They weren't making fast enough progress for her, meaning Spider was in danger. As Miles has already shown that Spider's his priority, as weird as that is, it meant the other villages would receive less mercy from the Colonel. He seemed less reluctant to pull the trigger each time. 

As much as Spider sympathised with the clans, it was hard for him to be somebody's main prerogative. That's never happened in his life before; it's weird. Miles isn't the only one doing it, either. All of the Recoms are protective of him, even the Ikran. 

It felt good, and he hated it. 

"Oy vey. You seem down, kiddo," the only girl Recom said, sitting across from him. "Mansk been telling you the government is a waste again? Or has Lopez tried convincing you that he can sing?"

"It's Miles," Spider said, intriguing her. "Ardmore's been asking for me, hasn't she?"

Z-Dog's ears dropped, confirming Spider's fears. 

"He worries about you," she sighed, her tail betraying her agitation. "He's always been like that. And look at it this way; for the Colonel, you were a baby four months ago. Of course, he'll be super protective of you."

"He said he wasn't a great father."

"Bullshit," Z-Dog huffed, surprising Spider. "It's true, he never wanted kids, but he rarely let you out of his sight. The man carved a small knife out of wood for you to play with - you were like a little pirate. Lyle made a tiny hat for you. Parker once pretended to be a horse when you decided to be a cowboy." 

They wanted him. 

He's spent so long as the inconvenience, the annoying troublemaker who couldn't do anything right. It felt like humans had turned their backs on him long ago, so he turned to the na'vi. He would play with Lo'ak, Kiri and Tuk for hours; nobody else wanted to be around him.

He was always alone, but it didn't have to be that way. Why couldn't the scientists or Jake make him feel so wanted and cared for?

Because Spider knew of Parker, though not much, and what he did know wasn't reliable information. 

Everybody told Spider how horrible his father was, how evil and deranged he was. Even when Miles is angry or threatening, he's soft with Spider. He sat with him, flew with him, listened to him.

Spider felt seen by Miles. He told Spider about his mother and his family; Spider didn't even know his mother's full name until Miles came. 

Topaz was a pretty gemstone from Earth. It felt nice to know that. Why wasn't he told more about her?

Nobody told Spider that his father was in an impossible situation. The na'vi didn't deserve to be subjugated, but neither did the workers struggling to survive. 

The little that Miles said of Earth sounded like a nightmare. Everybody joined the RDA to escape that horror; they didn't have an option. Even Grace, a woman everybody revered, worked for them. 

Those scientists willingly worked for the RDA for years. Max had been on Pandora for nearly fourteen years when Spider was born. The people didn't have a choice because where else could they go? His father's job was to keep those people alive and safe, which was a big ask on Pandora. 

Even Spider was aware of how dangerous the planet was. Part of the harmony was the circle of life, the dance of life and death. One dies so that more can live. When you kill a fish, it'll feed you and your family. The animals of Pandora follow that unspoken law; nothing is wasted. 

While the humans shouldn't have been on the moon, it was their only shot at survival. Those soldiers were fighting the wrong side for good reasons. They were fighting for their friends and families, for all of their species to survive, just like the na'vi.

Similar and yet so different. 

That's not excusing what happened. It provided context, though. Nothing was as black and white as Spider once believed. 

Z-Dog was an enemy of the na'vi; she was created in a lab to kill them. She wasn't a friend of the RDA, either. None of the Recoms seemed eager to follow them anymore. 

They're even more trapped in the middle than Jake. 

"I want everyone to live together," Spider said, picking at whatever Mansk and Ja caught and cooked for him.

"It'd be nice if we could," she agreed, ears flicking. "I won't lie, squirt; the na'vi have every right to hate us. They've earned it. So long as the RDA are in charge, violence is the cheaper option."

That's all people like Scoresby talked about. Money. The concept was foreign to Spider; it wasn't a thing in na'vi culture. Imaginary currency was more important to some people than lives. 

They created Z-Dog and Miles to protect their money, but that wasn't working out. The Recoms didn't want to be pawns, and Spider could see the chance that they could be more. They could rectify the actions of the past and be better. 

Miles is already displaying the desire to do better. The others respected him so much that Spider wouldn't doubt they'd follow him. 

"What if you don't follow them anymore? Y'know, live your own lives."

"It's hard to do when you're property, squirt," Z-Dog continued, her tail flinching behind her. "If we left, we'd be hunted down like Jake. And as you've seen, any clan harbouring us would only experience more suffering. They've got enough firepower to turn the planet into an ashtray; banshees and some guns won't do shit."

She sounded hopeless. 

Spider didn't want her to feel so trapped. Did all of the Recoms feel that way? It wasn't like she was exaggerating, either. Spider saw Bridgehead; it's massive and filled with weapons. The na'vi barely handled Hell's Gate's armada; what could they do against Bridgehead's?

And unlike his father, Ardmore didn't show any restraint. 

When all of that is stacked against you, it's easy to feel stuck. 

"There's nothing you guys can do?"

"We can keep you safe. It's not much, I'll admit, but it's something worth getting up for. You're a good kid, and your heart's in the right place; that's worth protecting."  

The cafeteria doors opened. From Z-Dog's sudden change in posture, Spider knew that Miles had come back. She looked at him the way that any na'vi would treat an olo'eyktan. In a way, he is; Miles is the leader of Deja Blu, their chief and protector. 

Spider turned to the clone of his father, the one standing between Ardmore's wrath and living. 

He felt his body tense and the sheer look of anger and hate in that man's golden eyes. It rivalled Neytiri's, perhaps even more so. It was weird to know that anger wasn't directed at Spider but at somebody else. 

Miles' ears were up, tail stiff, the whites of his eyes visible and pupils like pinpricks. His breathing was slow and controlled, an attempt to look composed. It wasn't working.

Spider's seen a rabid Thanator that looked more approachable than that. 

"You good, sir?" Z-Dog asked, already knowing that the man was fuming.

"Dandy," the Colonel said, voice cold but trembling with anger. "Spider, let's go. It's late." 

He's heard something similar with Jake towards Lo'ak and Neteyam. It usually involves verbal lashing or punishment. 

It wasn't unusual for Spider to be punished for something he wasn't aware of. It happened often. 

Spider got up, walking to the titan's side. A concerned Z-Dog asked something in a strange language that he usually heard Ja and Lopez speak. 

As Miles continued the weird conversation, Z-Dog nodded, understanding whatever he said to her. She seemed worried, spreading the concern to Spider. They didn't want him to know what they were talking about, growing a deluge of anxiety inside him. 

What's happened?

Miles patted Spider's back, encouraging him to follow. As much as Spider anticipated getting yelled at, he felt it wouldn't be as rough as he usually got. Though Miles was fuming, he was far more lenient than any other guardian that Spider had. 

He didn't even question Spider's need to reapply his stripes or preference for his nickname. The Colonel respected all of Spider's oddities, even his aversion to wearing human clothes. 

The teen followed Miles as he stalked the halls, people scampering to stay out of the furious titan's way. For Spider's safety, Miles kept him in front, avoiding the wrong end of that whipping tail.

When they arrived at their quarters, Spider went in first, fully expecting to get yelled at. That's how this is supposed to go if you've done something wrong. 

He watched Miles shut the door behind him, visibly trying to calm himself down. 

"You're mad," Spider observed. 

"Understatement," Miles agreed, rubbing his eyes out of frustration. "She doesn't want us to leave survivors."

"What?" Spider questioned, confused. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that she wants us to torch any village we come across," Miles answered, striking into Spider's fears. "Burn it all and everybody in it. She wants it as a message."

"But they haven't done anything!"

Miles shrugged, quietly agreeing with the upset teen. 

Spider jumped onto the bed, attempting to be at eye level with Miles. It wasn't enough; he got to his chest at best. Seeming to understand Spider's intent, the Recom lowered himself slightly to make it easier on the teenager. 

"We have to do something!" Spider exclaimed, horrified. "These people don't deserve to be burned alive just for Jake!"

"She wants recordings as proof," Miles continued. The seriousness was adding to the stress. "Next ride out, you're staying here. I'll have Lyle or Noah stay with you." 

Spider didn't want to stay with Wainfleet or Prager.

He wanted to stop this, to save innocent people whose only crime is living in the same area that Jake might be in. There's not even any confirmation that Jake's in the archipelago! 

They couldn't lie about it, though. The General wanted recordings of them doing it, ensuring evidence. She likely desired bodies, too. 

Spider felt helpless. He wanted to do something, but what?

The teen felt tears burning his eyes, the crushing feeling of uselessness and hopelessness suffocating him. What can he do?

He dropped to the bed, covering his eyes, already grieving for the eventual losses. It crawled over his arms like insects, gnashing and gnawing at his soul. 

And Spider couldn't even stop it by telling them where Jake was because he honestly didn't know. It sent pain through his muscles, breath escaping him. 

His chest tightened, and his throat felt like it was closing and stretching simultaneously. His heart was pounding, clawing to be free of his ribcage. It felt like somebody was sitting on him, constricting him to death. Is it a heart attack? It felt like he was dying. 

The panicking cold gave way to warmth, the smell of Ikran and salt filling his nostrils. He forced his eyes open, seeing the shining glimmer of dog tags. 

Spider felt the Recom's chest expand and recede, how his arms were secure around Spider, tail over his stomach. He didn't know how to react; nobody's done this before. He's seen it with other kids, but nobody wanted to do it with him. 

The stories told of his father came back to him, how he was uncaring and horrendous. But he was the only one that held Spider as though he was invaluable. 

Why? Why did nobody want Spider the way that Miles did? 

"We'll figure something out," Miles said, his voice vibrating through Spider's body. "I'll stay tonight. Alright?"

"Ok..."

He didn't like sounding small and weak like he couldn't pull his weight. 

Spider hated how tired he felt. Crying didn't use to exhaust him so much. 

Moving slowly, Miles lay him down, acting with concern but not like Spider was made of glass. The bed wasn't as comfortable as Spider would prefer, but having Miles balanced it. Is this what having a parent was like?

"I thought you were gonna yell at me."

The look on Miles' face was angry and insulted; he couldn't tell which was the most dominant.

Miles sat on the bed, leaning over the tired teenager. He didn't look angry at Spider. 

"Why?" Miles asked, ears raised, waiting. 

"When Jake's angry and demands his kids, he yells at them. And it's happened with me a lot," Spider said, his tone dry and tired. "I always get yelled at for something."

There was a flash of sad sympathy. Miles must be thinking of his father, the mean man.

Miles knew what it felt like to be yelled at. What else could Miles empathise with? There was a lot that Spider didn't know. He wanted to know, too. 

"I can't promise I won't yell. If I'm stressed or worried about you, that'll be on me, not you." 

"Even if I do something stupid?"

"Even if it's super fucking stupid. You're a teenager; you're meant to mess up sometimes. Mistakes will happen, kid; you don't learn otherwise." 

He's made a lot of mistakes. He always got yelled at for them. 

Spider was used to it. He wasn't familiar with Miles' approach, but it was nicer. It made him feel warm on the inside. 

"You'll stay?"

"Yeah. We'll come up with something tomorrow."

He hoped so. He wanted to stay with Miles and the Recoms. 

Is this what a father is like?

What the fuck is he going to do? Quaritch didn't know how to get around Ardmore!

He couldn't bare to see his son like that, though. Spider's a kid; he shouldn't feel so hollowed out by the horrid universe. 

And the kid's been through enough. No matter what Quaritch did, it felt like the cycle continued; Trevor's bullshit still haunted him. 

Seeing his mother's dead face, the lifeless terror in her eyes. It haunted him as well. Knowing one of, if not the only, adult that cared about him was dead at thirteen was a blow he struggled to cope with. She was a great person and deserved so much more. 

And still drunk, lacking a partner to beat, Trevor turned his attention to Miles. It sucked ass. Getting thrown into a table hurt like a bitch. 

The worst part was Nathan, though. His brother had taken Trevor's pistol and shot him with it, hitting Trevor's leg. Quaritch grabbed a broken table leg and shoved it into the prick's abdomen. 

While Trevor clutched the piece of wood, choking on pain. Nathan shot him a second time, hitting Trevor's stomach, shaking and starting to have a panic attack. 

Quaritch wanted to finish Trevor off, but he focused on his slightly older brother. It was how he knew to help Spider; he's done it before. 

He took the gun from his brother and unloaded it into the asshole that killed their mother. The man was dead, but Nathan didn't have to know that. As far as Nate knew, Quaritch finished him off for him. 

Even if it was Trevor, Nathan didn't deserve to bear that weight. Out of the two, he was the good one, the brother with the potential to do some good. Quaritch was a fuck up as soon as he left the womb, an inconvenient pain in everybody's ass. 

Taking the blame was the best he could do. 

That's how Rafael met them; he overheard the shooting and came to investigate. After that, he became their illegal guardian.

A year after they met, Rafael signed him up for the military to earn his keep. Rafael didn't want to look after Ellie and Scarlett, so Quaritch had to work for it. Nathan joined a few years afterwards. 

In hindsight, his somewhat father figure had always been a bit of a dick. Still better than Trevor, though. 

He saw his brother in Spider for a moment. It hurt him, but he couldn't show it. Spider needed someone, not the other way around. 

Discovering that his son got yelled at so often that he expected it, similar to what Quaritch endured, was agony. Trevor's rants were routine, even though they shouldn't have been. 

How much did his son endure? The sheer neglect and abuse he endured. 

Spider looked at Quaritch like nobody had held him like that before, as though nobody prioritised him. Nobody was there for his son; Spider was alone for so long. 

The poor kid didn't even know his mother's name. 

It disgusted him. 

"Boss?" whispered his second in command as he snuck into the room. "Heard from Z you were still here."

"He had a panic attack," Quaritch said, keeping his voice low. The kid needed some sleep. "Couldn't leave."

Lyle sat next to him, the pair situated against Spider's bed. The teen was dead asleep, exhausted. 

The bald bastard leaned back a little, analysing the kid's sleeping form. After a few moments, he returned to Quaritch's side, tail tapping on the floor. 

"You're doing good."

"Ain't like I got anything to compare to," Quaritch sighed, hiding his eyes with his hand. "The fuck am I doing? I don't know the first thing about being a father."

"Never met mine, but I think you're doing great," Lyle grinned, nudging his best friend. "How's he doing?" 

"They abused him, Lyle. They treated him like shit because I'm his father. They didn't even tell him about Paz." 

His friend looked offended by that. His poor boy was treated like nothing, like shit on someone's shoe. All because of who he's related to. 

What the fuck? Why did they do that to an innocent kid?

Lyle shifted next to him, legs almost touching. The Colonel wanted to bang his head against a wall, desperate for logic. Why torture a kid over something he can't control?

"Topper deserved better than that," Lyle said, cursing quietly. "Whatever we're going to do, we're there for him. And you."

"Me?"

"Don't think we haven't noticed, Miles. We've all experienced weird changes since coming back from the dead, and you're the only one who hasn't talked about it. It's hard and confusing adjusting to all of this."

At least Quaritch isn't alone in being conflicted. 

What did they experience? Was it the same as him? 

"Don't care about the RDA."

"Who does?" Lyle pointed out, which was true. 

"Don't care about Jake."

"Alright, that's odd."

"I'm bi now. That's weird." 

It was interesting how Lyle's ears perked up, almost like he was excited by that. Quaritch already knew the guy swung so many ways that there wasn't a door; he's the best person to get advice about that stuff. 

When he's got time to investigate it, he'll have to go to the Floridian reject. But right now, his son was his priority. 

Somebody had to focus on the poor kid. 

"Eh, it's not so bad. Anything else?"

"Crippling existential dread. Feeling very disconnected from my old life."

"We're dealing with the same, boss. It helps to talk about it and share. You're not alone," Lyle said, which did make him feel slightly better. 

He's not alone. And he'll make sure that Spider wouldn't be, either. 

"Y'know, it helps that we're all there for him. For Spider. He's spent so long alone; having us helps him."

"I will fist fight a titanothere for the squirt." 

"Mhm."

"You should sleep, boss. I'll keep an eye out."

"No chance."

"I can bore you to sleep. Don't test me."

"Challenge accepted, Lieutenant." 

Chapter Text

Lyle was the first to wake up. 

His back was sore from sleeping whilst sitting, but it was alright. That barely registered to him compared to seeing Quaritch leaning against him, dead asleep. 

Even when they were stuck in the jungle after the crash, Quaritch didn't like being around people when he slept. He always needed to be away from people, even if it put him in danger. Nobody even went into his quarters; it was an unspoken rule that it was forbidden grounds.

Nobody was sure why, though Lyle had a good idea. It would take a lot of drink, but the man occasionally spoke about his past. Lyle always listened, even if he was a little hammered. 

The boss had a rough time before Pandora. It didn't get any easier afterwards, either. And Lyle was by his side for all near-twelve years of it. So many of their friends and comrades died, and the Colonel was adamant about burying all of them; it became a tradition.

It weighed heavily on them, the constant losses.

He suspected that the Colonel's early life was crap. His doubts over his paternal prowess, there's the fear of repeating a hidden history. Unfortunately, Lyle could empathise more than he ever let on. 

Lyle was a nobody; his father buggered off with a new squeeze, leaving him, his five sisters and their mother to fend for themselves. The middle sister, Jenny, had down syndrome. Without money, they couldn't give her the support she needed. 

Joining the military meant that he could support them. Three of his sisters - Abigail, Debora and Rachel - followed suit. Mom, Jenny and Belinda stayed in Florida while they went to the civil war on Mars. 

They tried. Everybody tried so hard, and it didn't do squat. Every attempt at some semblance of life didn't work out. 

Abbie died first, thanks to a TS-4 landmine. There wasn't even anything to cremate. 

Debs went next; her whole squad got turned into confetti. 

Losing his sisters was rough, but he found comfort with a teammate named Lei Fan. She was fearless and confident; she always beat him at drinking games. They got married fast, maybe too fast. Regardless, it was a great time.

While it lasted, at least. 

They had three kids together in a city where he was stationed. They couldn't leave the army, so he moved his family. Mom got to see her grandkids, and Jenny had someone to play with for once. 

Matthew, Xiang and Mei. He would've given the universe to those three; they were everything. 

Lyle was out in the Liberty of Sydney, trapped in a firefight for nearly three days before he got the message. While his mom and Jenny were visiting Rachel, the enemy bombed the city. In a single moment, most of his life was gone. 

The dust didn't even settle until it went further. Mom was so devastated that she went to kick her bucket and took Jenny with her. 

Rachel didn't talk after that. She was almost mute from the grief. He didn't know what to do, honestly. 

What could he do? Lyle couldn't bring them back nor get his sister from the edge of a mental abyss. 

Then a man in a suit and tie came to them with a piece of paper. They had nothing to live for on Earth; it was all gone. Fuck it; why not go to some weird planet? 

And it kept going. Rachel didn't survive the crash. 

After that, there wasn't anything to keep him going. The pay wasn't even worth it. As the universe hated his family so much, he'd die and join them.

But Lyle didn't get to make that choice. 

Some old asshole dragged him from the ship and was disgustingly persistent. 

That very asshole kept Lyle going. If he could lose so much, survive a crash, get attacked by a wild animal, and keep going, so could Lyle. A pair of dumb hicks that had no idea what they signed up for surviving a nasty jungle.

When a man drags your useless ass for eighteen days, you believe in them. 

And Pandora was pretty. It was the greenest that Lyle had ever seen; he wished his kids got to see it.

Lei would've loved Pandora; he knew she would try to tame a viperwolf. 

Twelve years he lasted on that ball of glowing mud. Even when Lyle lost so many friends, the ones that survived were enough. Fike was always there like a bad smell, dragging Lyle into crazy antics. Grace was fun; she would mess with him all the time. 

He was one of the people allowed to guard her out at that schoolhouse because he was good with kids. It was funny that he was the same height as the children she taught; he even met Neytiri and her older sister, Sylwanin. They all called him Loi - it was na'vi for an egg. 

Tragedy, that old friend, struck again. Sylwanin and her buddies blew up an excavator; it was stupid, but that's what teenagers did. They do dumb stuff. 

What was even dumber, however, was Justin Roland's reaction. He'd always been a bit of a dick, trying to show off to everybody that he was hot shit. He came from a similar background to Lyle; that only made it more confusing when he chased the kids and shot at them.

He didn't just kill Sylwanin, though. He entered the schoolhouse and fired at anything blue, including at Grace's avatar. 

Lyle held his gun at Justin as Grace's avatar deactivated. He kept his weapon trained on the fucker, waiting for backup. In a few minutes, the Colonel, Topaz and Fike came in with Grace. The woman screamed, cradling a child's body, almost vomiting in her mask. 

Without thinking, Lyle shot Justin. He couldn't let go of the trigger; his fingers were frozen solid. 

And the asshole that saved his life pried the rifle from his hands, passing it to Topaz. The Colonel activated comms in his mask, eyes locked on Lyle. For a brief moment, he feared losing everything again. 

"Parker, get the paperwork; viperwolves got too big for their britches again," the man lied, motioning for his team to drag Justin outside. "Only one casualty. Too injured to transport. Heading back." 

That's how Lyle met Topper, a woman that reminded him of Lei. 

The Colonel had to practically pull Grace into the ship, leaving the rest to drag Grace's avatar into it. The RDA hated losing those things.

Lyle would forever remember how she sobbed, shaking and struggling to breathe. Though he wanted to do something, he was stuck, unable to do much. He panicked on the inside. 

That was a bad day. It wouldn't be the last. 

It was an unspoken agreement to never talk about what happened. Parker figured it out but stuck to the cover-up. It was almost a law that Roland never existed. 

Weirdly, Grace preferred that he accompany her during her escapades. Was it because he tried to stop Roland? Maybe. 

So much happened before he died. He became a broken man, honestly. So did most of the people struggling to survive. 

Project Phoenix proved to be quite strange. Lyle remembered all of these things and how they hurt, but it didn't affect him as badly. He got another chance at life; being blue was merely a highlight. 

And he still got to stick by the side of the asshole that saved him. 

The man would rather die than admit that he looked cute asleep. When he wasn't scowling, he looked like the body's age; they were all teens again. 

Although Lyle should wake Quaritch up, he decided not to. The Colonel had lost enough sleep over Ardmore's nagging; he needed it as much as little Spider did. 

Lyle will burn Pandora to ashes for that kid. He's seen enough children die; he won't let it happen again. 

He does need to beat up everybody that hurt the scamp, though. He and Quaritch can take turns. 

Chapter Text

He has to do something. He can't let his son feel like he did the other night. 

There is something. Whether it works or not is difficult to determine. It might blow what little cover they've got. 

Interestingly, he wasn't the only one with a possible plan. The meekest of the crew, Gar-something, wanted to talk to him about something. The privacy indicated that it wasn't for others' ears. 

The Doc is visibly uncomfortable working for the RDA. He's a poor sod that probably joined for the same reason as everybody else; there's no choice. The other option is misery on Earth; Mars and the Moon aren't even worth the debate - they've been dead for a long time. 

"I expect this to be important," Quaritch said, his tail curling and unfurling in a hypnotic dance. 

The Doc looked terrified but also like he had a backup plan. What he thought he could do against a 9'5ft alien was almost fascinating. 

What made him so sure Quaritch wouldn't throw him off the ship?

"I'm scared shitless of you, and you probably want to throw me to the Akulas. I have something you want, and you could do something I need. We can work something out," The Doc said, biting his lip with anxiety.

Well, that's certainly something. He doesn't know what an Akula is, but it must be ferocious. 

What could he possibly have that Quaritch would want? 

"And what could I want, small fry?" Quaritch grinned, showing off his fangs, leaning over the scared man.

The smell of fear was almost intoxicating. 

But the universe is cruel and unusual.

"Scarlett." 

His ears perked upwards, tail freezing. Almost instinctively, Quaritch held the man against the wall with a single hand, staring unblinkingly. It felt like a threat. 

Little Bug was one of the only good things in his life before she vanished. She was the last to leave after Nathan and Ellie. He was alone, destitute. It got harder to care with his only connections to his mother gone. 

Things never improved. No matter how hard they fought to do the right thing, it blew back in their faces. He watched so many people die that he was almost numb to it for a while. He learned how to kill quickly. 

In hindsight, Quaritch never had a relationship with others beyond friends. He struggled with letting someone in as a family because they left.

They always left or died. 

For so long, all he had was Rafael, and that fucker used Quaritch like a pawn in a stupid game. The whole time, Rafael wanted somebody who could take the fall for his bullshit; everything was building up to Bloodstone. 

The pain of his father figure betraying him wasn't new, and he hated it. Through sheer spite, Quaritch survived and avenged the team. It didn't take away the pain, though. 

Hearing somebody imply that they knew about his baby sister pissed him off.

Little Bug meant so much to him; how does this fucker know her name?

"She's alive! Here!" The Doc yelped, grabbing Quaritch's wrist. 

Quaritch got in the man's face, growling deep from his chest, condensation building on Doc's glasses. 

He let go, scowling at the man beneath him, tail lashing violently. 

"Explain," Quaritch ordered, eyes narrowed. 

"The Psi Xenomarine Biology Lab," the Doc coughed, clutching his chest and torn shirt. "She's in my team there."

His baby sister's alive and here. She's out there. 

One of his siblings is alive. 

"We're going," Quaritch stated, ears raised and tail waving. "If Scoresby's got a problem with that, I'll eat him." 

He'd probably taste nasty, but he'll do it. Mansk can make kebabs out of the prick. 

"Yeah, that sounds good," Doc grunted, attempting to look less scared. "Spider can meet his cousins."

Cousins? Quaritch had nieces or nephews; did he have both?

The anger gave way to intrigue, the eagerness to learn about the little nuggets. Nathan had a kid, Lucas, but that kid was always off. The few times he heard from Ayani, she was distressed over Lucas' increasingly antisocial behaviour. 

It was fucked what happened to his sister-in-law. Nathan was forced to choose between his wife and kid; in Quaritch's private opinion, he made the wrong choice. He never said that to Nathan, but Lucas' deterioration after that only affirmed Quaritch's belief. 

The kid was a psychopath or sociopath. It wasn't fair that the better of the twins got the psycho kid; Nathaniel deserved better than that. 

Hopefully, Trevor's asshole genes didn't pass to these tykes. 

"Names."

"Twin girls, Jesse and Robin, thirteen. And a toddler, Finn."

"Thought kids couldn't go in cryo."

"They can't be in cryo for six years straight. It's possible to do it if you do it in cycles; a year in cryo and a year out of cryo," the Doc corrected, reigniting Quaritch's frustration. "It's a common misconception."

Spider could've left Pandora. Why didn't they let him go? Parker would've taken him; he was the kid's godfather if something happened to Lyle, himself and Topaz. 

It felt like another punishment for the kid; how far did they go to hurt an innocent child? It made Quaritch furious. 

And if they only kept him because of the cryo problem, did that imply they would send him away as soon as he was old enough? That's disgusting. 

He didn't care for Jake, but learning more about Spider's upbringing was changing that. 

Many people need to answer for the neglect and abuse of Quaritch's son. 

"We can help each other," the man said, adjusting his glasses. "I know you don't want to hurt the villages; I see it. So I've got a possible plan; it's risky, but it's something." 

"Elaborate."

"You go out to fly a lot, getting food and whatnot. You can warn a village about Ardmore's orders and tell them to run. Take whatever is important to them and spread the message." 

Quaritch was thinking of something similar, but the hunting aspect provided cover. It's dicey and could prove dangerous, especially as it requires Spider, but fewer people die. 

When it came to the Omaticaya and the Ayroa, they hunted down Quaritch's people. The ocean clans haven't done shit to the RDA. Eradicating them didn't even make sense in the context of protecting human lives, nor hunting Jake. 

It felt like she wasn't thinking about the consequences of burning people alive. She isn't thinking about the reaction to doing this.

Even when the Ayroa arguably earned it, it was a tough decision. The other clans were angry about it but somewhat understood as the Ayroa attacked without provocation. At least the Omaticaya were pushed to fight, which made their reaction more understandable. 

"Keep Scoresby busy. Shouldn't be hard; jingle some keys in front of him."

Shoving Scoresby into an engine would be satisfying. 

Quaritch left the man alone, the smell of fear clinging to him like a needy pet. 

It wasn't hard to find his team; they tended to gravitate to the cafeteria, scaring away the humans. And wherever the team was, Spider would be close; they all ensured he was never alone. Their monkey mascot was the soul of the squad; even Mansk liked the kid. 

Interestingly, he could hear music coming from the cafeteria. Thankfully, it didn't include Corporal Lopez's atrocious excuse for singing. 

When the Colonel entered, he was almost taken aback by Zdinarsk and Prager having a little dance-off. They did that at Hell's Gate, but he didn't expect to see it again. He noticed how Spider paid attention to their alien movements, vibing to centuries-old music. 

Music wasn't a priority after the fourth world war, and nobody made any after much of South America got swallowed by a tsunami - it became The Glades. 

Since modern music was depressed and filled with dread, they stuck to the old stuff. The 20th and 21st centuries' sounds were far more lively and colourful. It suited Pandora much more than the regular sad swill. 

Why anybody invented Disco was a mystery, but Ja was in love with the crap. It was repulsive. 

He's heard this song many times; We're Gonna Die by Ke-dollar sign-ha. 

"Money's on Jade," Quaritch said, almost scaring the life out of Lopez. Zdinarsk was a better dancer than Prager any day. "Wainfleet, Mansk, squirt, you're coming with me. Ja, Lopz, try not to get drunk again." 

"No promises, sir," Ja warned, vibing to the music. "You gonna get in on the next round when you're back?"

Lyle spat out his drink, some of it coming from his nose. The Recom held his face, choking on air. 

Mansk and Lopez slapped his back, laughing at the buffoon. 

Even when blue, they're idiots.

They're his idiots. 

"Where are we going?" Spider asked, hopping from the table like a frog. He fancied frog legs now. 

"We're gonna make Ardmore's life difficult," Quaritch said, waiting for Lyle and Edmund. "Zdinarsk, you're in charge."

"Woo!" She exclaimed, fisting the air. 

"Why not me?" Prager grumbled, looking more exhausted than his dance opponent. 

"Because the last time I put you in charge, Noah, you somehow accidentally made Pandoran meth." 

Prager huffed, unable to argue with that. It was a little funny watching Parker lose his mind over that. Grace thought it was hilarious. 

Spider's innocent confusion regarding meth got Ja giggling like a child. The kid didn't know anything about drugs. 

Hopefully, Quaritch can keep Spider from ever learning about that stuff. 

It was still annoying that he was too tall for the corridors. He had to bend all the time; it was irritating him. The only one that wasn't suffering was Spider, who walked without issue. 

The boy looked up at Quaritch, almost eager to hear from him.

"What's the plan, boss man?" Mansk asked, his signature sunglasses snug against his face. 

"Go to a village, warn them that Ardmore's an arsonist psycho, tell them to run, get some food and come back."

"We're helping them?" Spider said, a big grin growing on his face as he put his mask on. 

"When we officially go to a village, there won't be anybody to scorch. Ardmore loses, and nobody dies."

When they reached outside, Cupcake, Whiskey and Firefly were already waiting. The banshees chirped and trilled, eager to feel the skies again. 

Cupcake pressed her head against him, bringing her neural whip to her rider. She was an excellent partner in crime, as well as informative. 

She's a feisty warrior, and he respected her for it. She had many interesting opinions and views on the world; he never knew how intelligent banshees were. They had a strict belief in honour, respect and being a warrior. Many even took part in the battle for the pink tree. 

He found Cupcake's memories of the battle fascinating. She was fierce, practised and vicious. Even after that battle, she fought whatever RDA ship entered her territory. They have a hierarchy and live in groups of up to a hundred, all adhering to a mated pair. 

There isn't any of that alpha crap. 

They had customs, traditions, migratory holidays and religion to something other than Eywa. They called it Tsäìrang, the High Father. They also followed the four sisters of the winds. 

How intelligent and aware were other animals? It was something that plagued his mind occasionally. Did Thanators have a belief system as well? Did the viperwolves or the titanotheres?

So much to be questioned and less to be answered. 

There are ways to communicate with a banshee without inciting a challenge. There are sounds that Quaritch learned from her, including body movements and positions. 

Cupcake lowered herself, raising her neural whip to make it easier for Spider as he climbed onto her back. She was considerate to the boy, even though she didn't like humans. 

Another exciting part about being connected to a banshee is the translator aspect. Through her, Quaritch could understand Whiskey and Firefly. 

Whiskey is a braindead baby that wanted snuggles and fish; Firefly wanted to crawl into a hole and sleep for fifty years, a particularly grumpy gal. 

They're perfect for their riders, similar to how Cupcake's strength in leadership matched him. She proudly placed herself as the leader of the Deja Blu banshees. 

As they took to the sky, Quaritch wanted to share the news. However, something caught his attention; it was dangling off Spider's loincloth. It looked like a loose thread, but beads and stuff were attached. He's seen that on na'vi before. 

"What's that?" Quaritch asked, his tail waving behind him. "The stringy thing."

Didn't Parker have one of those in a picture frame somewhere? He had an odd collection of na'vi artefacts. 

"Waytelem? It's a song cord. It's like a diary, a person's story - everything means something, an event in somebody's life." 

That's sweet. 

So, somebody's entire life story is in a cord. How'd they come up with that? And how do you remember what everything meant? Is there a cheat sheet or something?

"There's a lot of space on top of it," he commented, curious and perplexed.

All the other ones he's seen had all the parts included. They didn't have empty spaces. 

"I don't know what happened," Spider said, sounding hollow and pained by the reason. "Every cord starts with one from your parents. Mine were dead, so I started from when I made it; I was four."

That's sad. 

He's going to have to make something.

Though Quaritch's not artistic, it meant a lot to Spider. And not only that but other things early in his life, like when Spider first spoke or started crawling. When he had his first birthday, and the time he got himself stuck in the vents. 

It was something he deserved to have.

Spider deserved everything that nobody was willing to give to him. 

"Here's a thing for you," Quaritch said, causing his son to look back at him. "My baby sister's on this rock."

His son's eyes widened, stunned by the news. 

"Scarlett?"

"That quack on the boat knows her; she's at some lab. You got cousins." 

"I have an aunt!"

"Yea!"

Little Bug could be Spider's only human family left, plus her kids - Jesse, Robin and Finn. He wanted to meet them. Poor Little Bug carried the twin gene; that must've sucked. 

Quaritch still remembered how much he and Nathan were little assholes as kids, always pretending to be the other. Mom always knew, though; they could never fool her. 

And Nate would always say it was because Quaritch was the feral twin, like a rabid racoon. He wasn't far off. 

He could only imagine Nate's reaction to seeing him blue. He'd call him Bluebell or Blue Balls. The latter was more likely. 

Seeing the flash of excitement on Spider's face was heartwarming; his baby boy has more family. Though he didn't know how Little Bug would react to seeing them, he hoped for the best. Spider needed kids closer to his age; Jesse and Robin would be great for him if they were anything like Quaritch and Nathan at that age. 

Although they became orphans at that age - they shouldn't be like him and Nate. 

Did Little Bug follow mom's footsteps and stay Jewish? It was possible. He lost complete faith in it, and Nathan was neutral about it. Ellie was devout before she died. 

No matter what, he was just happy that she was still alive. 

Spider didn't know what to think. He knew a small piece of Miles' life, such as his family, but he thought they were all gone. As did Miles. 

His aunt was alive and on Pandora. She had children, too, meaning Spider had cousins. Although he didn't know how they were on Earth, Spider wanted to meet them. 

The kids at Hell's Gate didn't like Spider. He couldn't even say when they stopped liking him; as long as he could remember, Spider was alone. The only ones that would play with him were Lo'ak and Kiri, and that was only when Jake and Neytiri tolerated it. 

He saw it in Jake, the mild annoyance when Spider stayed longer than welcomed. Neytiri never wanted Spider to be around; she made that clear every moment she saw him. 

Whenever he sought a connection with another person, the scientists were always too busy or annoyed by him. Norm seemed angry with Spider, and Max was utterly disconnected from him. They were cordial most of the time, but other than that, they didn't show much interest. 

Every time Spider annoyed someone or acted out, they would tell him, "stop acting like your father". They told him how terrible and evil Miles was. 

But Miles wasn't any of the things they told him. 

The Recoms actively sought Spider out, telling him stories and pulling him into their shenanigans. Their little dance competition between Prager and Zdinarsk was fun; they introduced him to earth music. It was alien and weird but upbeat. 

Lyle especially watched out for Spider. And although Spider hadn't experienced the subject himself, he saw how Lyle looked at Miles. He was enchanted, amazed and eager to follow him, even if it meant running straight into hell. 

There was a lot of history between the two. 

Mansk said that the day they arrived on Pandora, Lyle and Miles were friends. For nearly twelve years, they stood by each other's side.

They arrived on Pandora on the same day and died the same day. That's something Spider couldn't only wish for. 

What is that like, trusting somebody and believing in them so much for that long? Living under the same roof and spending time together. It's more than Spider ever had with anybody else. 

All the Recoms were protective of Spider, quick to his defence whenever needed. The ringleader of his bombardment of camaraderie was the clone of his father. 

Miles always spoke softly but respectfully to Spider. He listened to him, paying attention and following Spider's advice. As much as Spider tried to push him away, Miles was always there, taking care of him. 

Spider's had panic attacks before, usually caused by being so lonely. The fear that he'll always be alone was enough to induce it. Without hesitation, Miles held him against his chest, providing comfort. And as Spider requested, Miles stayed all night with him; Lyle even joined them. 

The part of him loyal to the na'vi screamed that he was a traitor. Spider should not want to remain with the Recoms; they're the enemy. 

If they're the enemy, and if Miles was so evil, why did they give him what everybody withheld? It felt malicious. Why else would they dismiss Spider so much despite knowing him for years, but the Recoms gravitate to him as soon as he is in their care? 

It was almost immediately how they adopted Spider as one of them. Spider didn't need to prove himself to them, to remind them that he was not useless or a burden. They didn't care about that; he only went to the villages because he spoke the language.

If not for that, they would've kept him on the ship, far away from the violence. 

And they were putting themselves in danger for him. Spider pleaded to Miles to help the na'vi, and he was trying to do that. He didn't tell Spider it was impossible; he said they'd figure something out, and they have, even if it's risky. 

They're trying for him. 

The loyalty to the na'vi was chipping away. It didn't feel earned, even if it was all that Spider knew. He would always love Lo'ak, Kiri and Tuk, but that was it. Nobody else wanted Spider; some even wanted him to die, like Neytiri. 

Why did Jake turn Spider away so quickly, knowing him since he was two? Because Miles had only known Spider for two years, not fourteen, and cared for him as Jake did with his kids.

It didn't make sense. 

They never took Spider on their ikrans, not like the Recoms did. The Recoms did everything with and for Spider like he was one of the family. Why did everybody deny him that?

It felt wrong, but Spider felt angry. It was wrong.

How can a bunch of cloned strangers love Spider and care for him more than the people who raised him?

It wasn't fair. 

Chapter Text

As was routine now, the lights in his district went down. It flickered like a candle for a few moments before turning dark completely. 

Routine blackouts are to conserve power elsewhere. Of course, it's the people who aren't rich enough to pay off the fat bastards who lose electricity. It always sucked major ass when that happened because it cut off everything essential. 

Miles watched the tiny spiders crawl on the floor. There aren't a lot of them anymore. 

"You're late," grumbled Alejandro, a tall Latino man. He scowled at Miles, unamused by his presence. 

Miles was early, but Alejandro and his girlfriend's unreliable. He always gave the same crap; "you're late, so you'll lose a cut". It was crap. 

"Take some of my cut, and I'll slice your balls off," Miles spat, glaring at the adult. 

Alejandro grabbed the kid by his hair, pulling him against the lampost until the tips of his worn-out shoes scraped the ground. The grown man put a knife to the kid's throat, glaring into his smaller eyes. Instead of relenting, Miles spat at him. 

"Picking on little kids again?" Rochelle chuckled, shaking her head at her boyfriend. 

The man dropped him, rolling his dark eyes at his girlfriend. The woman wasn't all that enthused, smoking a cigar. 

They didn't help Miles stand. As much as he wanted to hit them between the legs, Miles needed them, as horrible as that was. He wouldn't be able to get money otherwise, and Trevor wasn't going to get anything for them.

"Un fils de pute," Rochelle groaned, rolling her eyes at the flickering. She flicked her cigar on the ground, sneering. She pulled another from her ugly handbag. "Light me," she demanded, holding her hand to Alejandro. 

"Vete a freír espárragos," Alejandro spat, ignoring the young woman. She sneered, flipping him off. "Time to earn your keep, Perra inútil," he said, hitting the teen in the back. 

The waste of oxygen would instead drink himself into a coma than get enough money to keep them alive. So, Miles had to stick with these knuckleheads. 

If the geezer wouldn't put in the work, Miles would. Somebody had to do it.

That didn't mean he had to take their shit.

"Call me by my name, or you don't get your crap," Miles said, glaring at the young adults. Though his head still hurt, that didn't mean Miles wouldn't still bite back. 

Rochelle was amused. The woman picked up her cigar, tilting her head at the thirteen-year-old. Knowing what she planned on doing, Alejandro used his lighter to re-light it. 

Miles watched, scowling at the duo. 

"Put this in your mouth, and we'll give you extra," Rochelle smirked, taking a brief puff and blowing smoke into his face. "You need it. Right? So you'll do it."

He knew that it would hurt, which is what they wanted.

It was to humiliate and degrade him, but he needed the money. Nate, Ellie, Scarlett and mom need it. 

He didn't give a shit about what happened to his excuse of a father. His mother and little Scarlett needed it the most, though. Miles didn't know if they'd survive the night every time he went to sleep. Trevor rarely allowed them to rest due to his need to be a dick. 

Keeping his scowl, Miles snatched the burning piece and put it in his mouth. It scorched his tongue, ash clinging to his mouth and throat. Though his body was desperate to cough, he wouldn't allow it. 

They wouldn't get the satisfaction of seeing him hurting. They hadn't earned that, nor would anybody. 

"Eres tan patético, que resultas entrañable," Alejandro laughed, shaking his head at the teen. "Let's go."

Miles spat the crap out, wiping his mouth. It felt sore, not that the duo cared. 

Abusing the cover of darkness, a car pulled up. The door opened, revealing an angry Courtney. 

Miles never liked that woman. She was much older than Alejandro and Rochelle; she seemed to be the ringleader of their little group. As much as he hated her, she was necessary. 

She's all that kept Alejandro and Rochelle under control. 

Rochelle pushed Miles into the back, taking a seat next to him. Alejandro joined Courtney at the front, talking to her in another language. 

As they drove, Miles gripped the degrading seat, his heart racing. Every time they use him for one of these jobs, it always ends in gunfire. He doesn't know how to shoot a gun like Alejandro or Rochelle; they won't let him have one anyway. 

The teen looked out of the window, not seeming much. The darkness was all-consuming, as was the smog above them. On rare nights, they almost saw a star and part of the moon. 

According to mom's stories, you could once see so much of the sky that people used the stars to navigate. There was no chance of that in New Louisiana, but he thought about it often. What do the stars look like? Are they harsh like the sun?

It's always hot and dry. The air is always too thin, and they can't afford masks. You're left to rot if you lack money or don't know the right people. 

He didn't want that for his family. He didn't care for Trevor, but the others deserved better. Though he wasn't sure, he suspected that his mom or Scarlett was sick. Without money, they'd die like grandma and uncle Doug. He didn't want to watch Scarlett die like their dog, Biscuit. 

Miles loved that dog. He was his best friend until he fell ill and died. Even when mom somehow got them another dog, Cupcake, it wasn't the same. He still liked her, though. She would crawl into his bed when Trevor started beating mom, which was almost nightly.

Money is all that matters in this world. It doesn't care, especially for people like Nathaniel, who have big hearts. His twin brother was naive, overly hopeful that things would get better. 

Even at thirteen, Miles knew it wouldn't get better. The only way to get out of here was to gather money and move. If he saves enough, they could go somewhere else. He knew someplace like Mars wasn't possible, but maybe Colorado?  

Anywhere but here. People were dying, the riots were getting worse, drugs were everywhere, and any semblance of control was disappearing. 

Miles didn't know the future, but he couldn't hope it would improve. 

He saw a woman getting beaten on the street, a common occurrence. Sometimes it was the other way around. Occasionally there were kids involved, often children getting killed or fighting an adult to survive.

It was often for the same reason Miles was working with these jackasses. Everyone wanted to survive, even if that meant hurting somebody else. 

The car stopped outside of a derelict-looking warehouse, one of many. Miles didn't know what they wanted with the place, but that wasn't important; do the job and get paid. 

Rochelle borderline kicked Miles out of the car, following after him. She turned her nose at Alejandro as he exited, handing her his lighter. 

As Miles rubbed gravel from his arms, Rochelle stalked towards him. 

"Listen up, morveux," Rochelle sneered, grabbing Miles by the wrist. "You open the door and go through the vents. Take the Hypo. Nothing else. Comprendre?"

"I've done this before, witch," Miles spat, ripping his hand from her tight grasp. "You still owe me extra. Don't forget that."

"Bête comme ses pieds," she said, though he didn't know what that meant. He didn't understand French. 

Given Alejandro and Courtney's smirks, it didn't bode well for him. Even so, he needed every cent. All of it was for them. 

Miles is the man of the house. He has to do it because Trevor sure as shit won't. 

He hates his sperm donor. 

Alejandro used bolt cutters to ruin the wire gate, making a gap big enough for Miles to squeeze through. The sharp ends scratched his arms and legs. He didn't want to wait for them, but they had guns. If they suspected betrayal, they'd kill him. His family would lose their only provider. 

It wasn't by choice that he worked for these assholes. If Miles could, he'd find a job, but there's none.

There are no jobs available in New Louisiana; he's looked. 

Once they were through, they snuck towards the side of the building. Using an overflowing trash bin, Courtney climbed up, punching through a window. He mentally questioned why she would do that, as it cut up her knuckles. She waited as Alejandro lifted Miles, passing him to her like an unwrapped gift. 

Alejandro held Miles too tightly, his fingers digging into his skin. It took so much to keep from kicking Alejandro in the face. 

The hole was too small. Even so, Courtney pushed him until the window shattered. 

He fell several feet onto concrete and splintered glass, cutting his left side. As much as it hurt, he had to keep going. Miles tried to pick the shards from his body, but it was useless. He'd have to do it at home and lie about falling into Trevor's bottles.

It's happened before; Nathan won't question it too much. 

Holding his throbbing shoulder, Miles opened the door from the inside, allowing them in. Alejandro sniggered at Miles' injuries, slapping the teen's head mockingly. It took everything not to take a shard and shove it into Alejandro's thigh. 

Repeating the scenario, Courtney shoved Miles into a vent. It was cramped and pressed against his body, but they didn't care. It didn't matter to them that the little shards dug deeper into his skin. 

Miles crawled through the tight vent, air struggling to get into his lungs. The teen could hear noises outside the shaft but didn't know who it was from. It wasn't Courtney, Alejandro and Rochelle, that was for sure. 

What did people do before everything went to hell? Lacking a school in his district, he had to rely on his mother for history. 

When Trevor hadn't beaten her, that is. 

It probably didn't involve crawling in ventilation shafts to steal drugs and money. He didn't know what else they would do, though. 

After far too long, Miles finally saw an opening in the room that Courtney picked out. The door had a fish carved under the handle, left by her informant. Glad to finally get out, Miles kicked at the vent grille. It took several attempts, but the rusted screws finally snapped. 

He clumsily fell from the vent, landly weirdly on his leg. It didn't cause much noise, so Miles had time to hit and quit. 

There are all sorts of paperwork and crap. It's like an office of some sort. Although Miles didn't know what any of it meant, he knew what to look for. 

The teenager walked to the metal desk, finding the third drawer. He took Trevor's "borrowed" pocket knife and pressed it into the lock. It wasn't much, but Miles did what he could with it. 

After stabbing the lock failed, Miles pressed it into the gap, trying to pry the drawer open. 

Miles fell as the blade snapped, but the drawer was open. As it was Trevor's, he didn't mind losing it. He scampered to it, finding cash and baggies of some red stuff. That must be the Hypo stuff they're after. 

Most interestingly was a small, old-looking pistol. 

He grabbed everything, stuffing it into his pockets. He put the pistol in his pants as Alejandro would. It wasn't safe, but having it provided some security, no matter how minimal. 

As he took the last baggie, Miles heard somebody coming. 

Quickly, Miles climbed onto the desk and jumped to the vent, the edges of the entrance digging into his fingers. He used all his might to pull himself up, taking several moments to breathe. 

"Fuck, we've been made!" shouted somebody. "Lock the place down!"

Knowing better than to stay, Miles crawled away, eager to leave. 

Alarms started to echo through the vents, vibrating into his bones. Miles heard gunfire and chaos, panic rising in the back of his sore throat. 

When he finally made it to the one he originally entered, Miles saw bright flashes that belonged to guns. He was stuck. All he could do was sit there until a stray struck him or try and run for it. 

Given the options, Miles jumped, landing on an oil drum. Something cracked in his chest, pain radiating throughout his body. It was hard to breathe; it was burning with a heat he struggled to bare. 

He felt someone grab onto his shirt, pulling him behind crates. Rochelle punched his face, angry. 

"J'ai le morveux!" Rochelle yelled over the rain of bullets and chaos. 

She pushed him towards the door, yelling expletives as he ran. Miles was terrified, heart pounding in his ears. 

As Miles ran the door, something hot and wet splattered across his back. He paused, turning to see Rochelle's body and most of her head missing. He was frozen, stuck staring at the former human life. As much as he hated the woman, seeing her corpse was stomach-churning. 

He heard Alejandro yelling her name, pained and anguished. Unable to do anything else, Miles ran to the voice, terrified. 

Miles shuddered as he felt Alejandro screaming at him in Spanish. The grown man yanked him by the hair, throwing him into the car. As soon as Alejandro was inside, Courtney stamped on the gas pedal. 

He clutched his chest, shaking as vomit travelled up his throat and into Courtney's car. She yelled something at him, but he couldn't hear her. 

Gunshots passed through the car, meaning they were being followed. Miles ducked, hugging himself into a ball. He heard a scary sound, and more redness burst, covering him and the windows. 

The car skidded and slammed into something; it was too dark to see. 

Without being able to think, Miles kicked the door open and ran. He kept going, even as Alejandro shrieked for him. 

He wanted to go home. 

Miles ran, regardless of how much his body hurt. 

His home was a piece of crap near a railway. It looked like shit and stank, but it was all that Miles knew. 

The boy skidded to a stop, nearly falling over again. He felt sick and stressed, air struggling to reach his lungs. The teen wanted to cry, but he couldn't let himself do that. He had to be tough; it was for the family. 

The hurt teen limped through the unlocked front door, the stench of alcohol burning his nostrils. 

"Miles?" came Nathan, seeing his bloodied state. "Holy shit, what happened!?"

"A lot," Miles said, his voice sounding shaky. He took the stuff from his pockets and gave them to Nathan, wanting to see mom. "Put it in the lockbox."

"You're covered in blood!"

"Not mine. Doesn't matter," the younger twin huffed, holding his screaming ribs. 

Miles walked past his brother, making his way through the dozens of empty alcohol cans. He found mom's room, the door having gotten thrown away a long time ago. Trevor didn't want her to have anywhere safe to hide, so none of them had doors. 

All the more reason to hate the man. 

He took off his shirt and rubbed his face, trying to get the ick off him. Though the darkness would help hide it, he needed to get it off. He didn't want to feel it on him anymore. 

Miles entered the room, seeing the form of mom. 

"Mom?" Miles said, stepping towards her bed. His mother didn't move. "I got more. If I sell some things I got, maybe we can get out of here," he said, touching her. 

His mother weakly looked at him, her loving blue eyes unusually pale. She always looked tired, but it was more than usual tonight. 

Miles wasn't sure what to do. He couldn't see well in the darkness, but he knew something was wrong. 

Nathan came to join him, the pair standing in front of their ill mother. The only adult that cared for them weakly reached out her hand, touching the boys' faces. 

As they shivered from fear, the twins heard Ellie enter mom's room, holding Little Bug. It's as though she sensed that mom was fading away, disappearing before their eyes. 

The door to their house opened, the groans of a drunk shattering their despair. 

"Where are you, whore!?" Trevor shouted, throwing something. 

Without any hesitation, Miles grabbed his siblings and jumped into the closet, holding his hand over Ellie's eyes. Nathan covered her ears, keeping his gaze fixated on Scarlett. 

The twins watched as Trevor entered their mother's room, her weak moans frightening them. That didn't stop him, however; nothing ever did. 

Trevor grabbed mom's leg and threw her from the bed, pinning her onto the floor. The horrid man hit their mother, especially unrelenting when drunk. Despite their attempts, Ellie cringed in their arms, terrified. 

Miles wanted to close his eyes, but when he did, Miles saw that woman's headless body. It was arguably better than seeing his mom attacked again; they had to protect Ellie and Scarlett. 

After what felt like forever, Trevor left the room, making his way to their excuse of a living room. 

The twins told Ellie to stay in the closet, slowly creeping out to comfort their mother. When Nathan got to her, Miles could see the terror and shock in his blue eyes. 

Miles took his side, looking at their mother's face. What used to be her face. What little they could see of her eye was blank and cold, almost empty. 

Nathan shook their mother, water welling up in his eyes. He kept trying to wake her, but when Miles felt her chest, he knew it was futile. 

The son of a bitch finally did it. He beat their mother to death. 

He felt numb. Empty. Like their mother. Her neck was bent weirdly, and it made him feel sick. 

Miles was shaking, vomit threatening to creep back up. His heart was beating too hard and fast; it hurt. 

Crying, Nathan hugged his brother, unable to look away from their mother's remains. Miles held him tightly, fear shifting to rage. 

Trevor went too far. 

Miles broke from Nathan's shaking arms as he jumped out of their mother's room, wrath in his eyes. He glared at his drunken and malicious sperm donor, shaking from raw anger. 

The man turned to Miles, barely acknowledging his existence. 

"She's gone," Miles spat, his voice cold with hate. "She's dead."

"Very funny, shitstain," Trevor said, making his way to the boy. 

"She's gone," Nathan reiterated, joining his twin, his face red and raw from grief. "You killed her."

Trevor saw the blood on Miles and connected pieces that weren't there. The grown man grabbed the boy by the neck, slamming him into the wall. 

Miles kicked and clawed at Trevor, but the man didn't relent. It was harder to breathe; air couldn't pass Trevor's grip. Tears welled in his bloodshot eyes as his vision started to fade. 

"If I can't have her, you'll have to do," Trevor said, grabbing onto Miles' pants and ripping them off.

Something clicked as it hit the ground, but Miles was too preoccupied to realise. 

Nathan did, however.

"Put him down!" Nathaniel shouted, holding the pistol that Miles stole.

Trevor turned to the boy, laughing at him. 

"You don't even know how to shoot," Trevor grunted, calling Nathan's bluff. The distraction allowed Miles to bite his hand, severing one of his fingers. The man dropped him, yelling in pain. 

Miles jumped to his twin's side, panting as a new fear shivered down his spine.

As if he couldn't hate his father more than he already did. 

Trevor angrily stepped towards the boys, and a loud bang rang through the building. The force sent Nathan to the floor and caused Miles' ears to start ringing. He saw their father trying to hide, not expecting Nathan to shoot. Honestly, neither did Miles. 

Nathan didn't stop, however, continuing to shoot at their father.

Miles took the gun from him, worried and impressed with his older twin. His brother had a distant and fearful look in his eyes, unable to process what was happening. 

He saw that their father was barely breathing. He was pretty much dead, but he couldn't have Nathan live with killing their parent, even if it was Trevor. He unloaded the rest of the magazine into their father's face, ending him.

It was disgusting; it made his body shake, but Miles had to do it. He needed to protect his brother. 

He failed his mother; he needed to do something right. 

The twins didn't get a chance to breathe, however. 

Their door fell as Alejandro kicked through it. As soon as he entered, Alejandro shot Trevor in the chest. He was already dead, but Alejandro didn't know that. 

"Hijo de las mil putas, I'll kill you!" Alejandro yelled, aiming the gun at the boys.

Not knowing that Miles was a twin, Alejandro pointed the weapon at Nathan. 

"Fuck you!" Miles shouted, gaining Alejandro's attention.

He hoped it'd give Nathan time to get the girls and run. Ellie knew that if shit went down, she had to run as far as her legs could carry. She was a good girl; he hoped that she was already gone. 

They needed to stay safe.

Miles stared Alejandro down, shaking from a myriad of feelings. The raging man shot at Miles' feet, startling the boy. 

"You're why they're gone!" Alejandro shouted, preparing to end Miles' time on this awful planet. 

A whistle came from behind, causing Alejandro to turn. His face collided with a metal bat, sending him to the ground. It caused him to lose grip on his weapon, allowing the heavier geezer to snatch it. 

Miles stared at the pair of men who saved his life, a couple of older-looking guys. 

"Ain't this a scene," said one of the men. Miles noticed that the fat guy was missing an arm. "You two alright?"

Miles scowled at them, not trusting the duo. 

"Looks like they got to the bastard before us," said the older man, looking at Trevor. "Which of you lads killed him?"

"I did," Miles said, keeping Nathan from any possible responsibility. "He killed our mom. The fucker had it coming." 

"That he did," the younger man agreed, shaking his head as he watched the unconscious Alejandro.

The man nodded to his friend, giving the go-ahead. The other man didn't hesitate, shooting Alejandro dead.

Miles and Nathan stuck together, readying themselves to fight if they had to. 

"My name's Rafael, and that's Richard," Rafael said, taking a knee to the boys. "Guess you two are in a bit of a pickle now."

"Nat? Milly?" whimpered the voice of Eleanor. The eight-year-old left the closet, holding one-year-old Scarlett. From the terror in her eyes, she had seen their mother's corpse. 

Richard cursed under his breath, distraught at the sight of them. The girls started crying, scared of the horrors in what used to be their living room. 

They ran to their older brothers, hugging them tightly. 

Miles picked Scarlett up, unable to say anything to the toddler. His blue eyes met with Rafael's brown pair. 

"We can work with this," Rafael said, looking at his friend. Richard shook his head. "Yes."

"You wanna end up in Golad? Nobody's allowed more than two, you fool!"

"I am only taking two," Rafael smirked, motioning to the boys. "And they're taking the girls. I'm a grandpappy before you," he stated, smiling at Miles. "You're a hardy little kid, aren't you? What's your name?"

"What's it to you, shit face?"

Rafael merely chuckled, amused by the fiery spirit of the young teen.

"You need somewhere to stay, and I happen to have a place, so long as you earn your keep," Rafael smirked, showing favour towards Miles. "Warm home, food, water, even medicine. You'll need some help, kid."

He said the last part whilst motioning to Miles' several injuries. 

They didn't have a home anymore, and Miles didn't want to stay in the same house as their dead mom.

"Can we bury mom first?" Miles asked, hugging his scared sister. 

"Of course. What's your name?" Rafael asked, interested in the bloodier teen.

"Miles. That's Nathan, Eleanor, and this is Scarlett." 

"Miles, huh? Means soldier. I'm in the army - I think you've got great potential," Rafael grinned. "General Miles sounds good, no?"

It did. It was better than being a thief.

Miles wouldn't let his siblings suffer like that ever again. 

Chapter Text

The kid needed a leak. He's got a smaller bladder than the rest of them. 

Mansk managed to find an island for Spider to go to. While he watches, Mansk and Lyle can grab something to eat. There was a storm around this area recently, so a lot of fruit from the trees should've blown to the ground. 

It wasn't something that Quaritch was bothered about; everybody needed to go sometimes. He found it peculiar how Spider seemed stressed every time, though. Given what caused his other anxieties, it likely involved his excuse for guardians. 

While Spider was busy against a tree and the banshees were sunbathing, Quaritch meandered on the beach. His foot hit something solid and almost sharp.

Curious, the Recom crouched, inspecting the offending item. It looked like a seashell; his mother told him about these things. They used to be everywhere in the old days. Ocean animals were some of her favourites; she liked extinct creatures known as sharks. 

A giant fish thing with loads of teeth and black eyes and were believed to be monsters. Over time, they became beloved, but it was too late. The sharks were gone. When mom was born, all that remained of the sharks were pictures, documentaries and their jaws. Their skeletons were mainly cartilage, which he thought was weird. 

She promised to show him one of those documentaries someday. He never got that chance. 

Quaritch took out his knife, chipping away at the shell. The pieces broke off, falling into the sand that consumed his feet. After a few cracks, it roughly resembled what his mother described a shark tooth to look like. A serrated triangle that curved at the bottom, almost like a half-moon.

She said that great white sharks would attack from below and that their teeth were surprisingly loose. They'd lose teeth constantly, continuously regrowing them. They looked smooth but supposedly felt like sandpaper. There were all sorts of sharks. 

No matter how often she told him, he refused to believe in a "Cookie Cutter" shark. That was ridiculous. 

The Recom knelt, his knees digging into the sand as he inspected the chipped-away item. 

Ellie would've made a much better piece; she was always the artistic one out of them. 

"Find something?" he heard Spider say, walking to the Recom. 

"My mama loved these fish things called sharks. Extinct long before her time," Quaritch said, handing the roughly made bit of craft to his son. "It's meant to be a shark tooth. It looks like shit, but it should be alright." 

"What for?"

"The Waytelem starts with a thing given by the parents. It's one of a few, too - When you began to walk, your first word, the time you peed on Parker, the first time your mama took you in a Samson, and when you decided to bite Grace. The next one should look better."

He didn't add that Spider bit Grace's boob. The kid was hungry, and Paz was occupied, so he went for the nearest mound of flesh. He thought it was the funniest thing in the world, especially since Grace borderline blackmailed him into letting her hold the baby. 

That only made her like him more. She was a pain in his ass, but she knew something about looking after kids. That was more than he and Paz put together. She was supposed to be infertile, and Quaritch got himself snipped at seventeen - little Miles came through anyway.  

Thank hell that Paz didn't have twins. Not that he would've loved them any less, but it was stressful enough when she had one baby. 

The labour was downright frightening. Why is the process so painful?

It's entirely unnecessary to be so painful. 

After momentarily being possessed by some demonic-whatever, Paz demanded his hand and managed to break his wrist and two fingers. She was a tough son of a bitch; he respected her for that, even if she broke his hand. 

"You made this for me?" Spider questioned, cradling the item. 

"I don't know about this stuff, but it's important to you. That's all that matters." 

There was a moment when Quaritch feared that Spider didn't like it — but that time passed quickly as he analysed fluid building in his son's eyes. Had nobody made something like this for him before?

Spider remained stiff, gently holding the item. When he finally moved, Spider reached for his song cord, tying the shell tooth at the top. It didn't look so empty now. 

As Quaritch focused on the newest addition to Spider's song cord, his tail flinched when the boy took several steps forward, only to stop abruptly. Spider seemed anxious about something, but he couldn't decipher what. 

He can tell Quaritch when he's ready. 

His ears flicked as he heard something in the distance.

"What is that?" Spider asked, taking notice of the sound as well. 

To Quaritch's ears, it was singing. Something is singing a melody that twisted and turned like waves. There's a sadness to the rhythm, a hybrid of desperation and longing. It's seeking something, calling and pleading to any that could hear it. 

It sounded aware, not a mere animal call. 

His left ear flinched, detecting something singing back inside the island. It's weaker despite being far closer. Something is trying to respond but can't reach the other. 

"Let's find out," Quaritch said, patting Spider's arm. 

Spider followed the intrigued Recom, constantly looking back at the latest addition to his song cord. It was adorable, and Quaritch looked forward to making more. It made his son happy, and that was all that mattered. 

As the duo got closer to the singing, Quaritch could almost feel more of it. He couldn't explain why. Perhaps it's because of his na'vi body? It's far more sensitive to the environment than his human one. 

There's a pulse with every step. It felt like the trees were breathing, as though their exhales created the winds. When Grace babbled about a planetary network, it took death to understand what she was saying; the entire planet is connected. 

Since the banshees have already proven to be far more intelligent than he gave them credit for, what else was sapient? Were the trees alive? Could even the smallest of flowers have the best story? So many things he couldn't find the answers to. 

Did everything have a song, and he was too deaf to hear it before?

Finally, after several minutes, the pair reached what looked like a deep spring or miniature lake. It was so blue and beautiful. Curiously, there were scratch marks around the edges. 

The water rippled and surged, evidence of life. Instinctively, Quaritch held his hand against Spider's chest, keeping a distance. The singing emanated from whatever was in there, but he didn't know if it was hostile to Spider.

The song cooed, narrowing on Quaritch, realising he was there. Its rhythm changed, fearful and hopeful simultaneously. There's the sense of wonder, never having seen something like Spider or Quaritch. 

Whatever was singing neared the surface, glowing like most life on the planet. It got closer, curious but cautious. There wasn't a hint of danger; it was more scared of them. 

Taking a chance, the Recom knelt towards the water, using his tail to keep Spider back. 

A pair of shining golden and black eyes peeked from the waters. It was some form of Na'vi but far more fish-like than Quaritch had ever seen.

Their ears were large fins that flicked under the water. The nose was almost non-existent, scales covering its body, a larger fin atop its head instead of hair. Their face was pearly white, the rest an onyx black with small golden stripes and bioluminescent blue spots. Gold accented the tips of their fins. 

Two beings that had never seen the other. 

"What clan are they from?" Quaritch asked, glancing at Spider before returning to the curious entity.

His tail moved, letting Spider crouch next to him. 

"I've never seen anything like it," Spider admitted, as equally clueless as Quaritch for once. Spider attempted to speak Na'vi to them, but they didn't seem to understand.

They shuffled back as the being rose in the water, revealing their upper torso. The stranger had jewellery around their neck and many armbands. Their neck had a white stripe leading to their chest and stomach. Separating the white from black were thin lines of brilliant gold. 

Around their collarbone were gills with hard scales over them. The mounds on their chest betrayed that they were potentially female. 

When she opened her mouth, a cacophony of melodies was released. That must be how her clan communicates. 

There is another way that Na'vi can communicate, but he can't see a head-tail on her. 

The stranger cooed to them, flipping back into the water, revealing her lower half was that of a fish. Her webbed hand breached the surface, requesting that they follow. 

Spider didn't hesitate, jumping after the strange Na'vi. With no choice, Quaritch followed. 

The body of water was deceptive, far less spacious than it seemed from above. Their new companion was much larger than Quaritch, easily four feet longer than him. She had many beautiful fins that aided in her swimming.

And she wasn't alone. 

Swimming behind her was a minuscule version, almost infantile. It floated to them, dark eyes amazed by the strange aliens. Its mother practically flew over them, singing all the while. 

She paused before Quaritch, holding out her palm. Tendrils unfurled from the centre, flowing towards him. 

The Na'vi must've had the same train of thought as him; speaking doesn't work, so they'll try another way. 

He brought his head-tail to her hand, letting them connect. Immediately, Quaritch learned what happened; her family were swimming away from a storm when she went into labour. The storm caused a mighty wave that left her on the island; she clawed into this small spring, needing water to survive. 

She had to give birth here, calling for her mate and pups in the ocean. The one that Quaritch heard first was her mate. 

Her name was Satumä, and the babe stuck with her was Ìheyu. They're different from "surface Na'vi", unable to survive out of the sea; they are the Kuäma people. 

Needing air, Quaritch went back to the surface, staying connected. She joined him, head poking above the water, amused by the odd creature before her. He isn't even a real Na'vi, a concept she couldn't fathom. 

She pointed up to the sky with her free hand, fascinated that he was from there. She called him a child of Tsäìrang. 

Spider also popped up, the babe patting his stripes as they washed away. 

There was an understanding between parents - the need to be there for their children. She asked that he help them return to the sea. 

He'd be a dick to refuse a fellow parent stuck in a rough position. 

She pulled away from the Recom, humming to her baby to join her. 

Quaritch climbed out, helping Spider onto the edge. 

"Think you can carry the little one?" Quaritch asked, ears flicking away the dripping water. 

"I could drag you," Spider answered, which was possibly true. His son was ripped. 

Satumä returned to the edge, holding her scared babe. With his father supporting him, Spider took Ìheyu into his arms, cradling the little one. As time was of the essence, he ran to the beach. 

Reaching his hand to hers, Quaritch pulled Satumä from her prison, holding her bridal style. She was massive compared to him, her tail dragging against the minuscule forest floor. 

How did Quaritch go from hunting Jake to taking a fish-Na'vi into the ocean?

After a few minutes, Quaritch got to the beach, watching Spider waist-deep in the water. Little Ìheyu was in the sea, waiting for their mother to join them. 

He could already hear her mate singing to her, coming closer. 

Finally, Quaritch set the ocean entity in the water. She pressed her forehead against her baby's; it must be their version of hugging. With her gills under the water, she called for her mate. 

An even bigger Kuäma poked his head from the waves, visibly more robust than her. The Kuäma seem to have more sexual dimorphism than other Na'vi. 

As Satumä's mate came and greeted his new baby, she turned to the duo. She removed her necklace, handing it to the confused Recom. Why was she doing that? What was it for? 

Not sure what else to do, he accepted it. She also plucked a golden scale from her chest and a band from her arm, giving them to Spider. 

Cooing a soft melody, Satumä bid farewell to the pair. Her mate sang a more profound chorus, thanking them as well. 

And like that, they were gone, vanishing beneath the ocean's waves. 

Well, shit. 

"I'm surprised you didn't break your back," Spider teased, elbowing Quaritch's thigh. "How heavy were they?"

"Unbelievably," Quaritch agreed, ears perking as he heard more of their joined singing. It sounded better together. "What do I do with this?" he asked, showing Spider the gift.

"Wear it," Spider answered as though it were obvious. He took his cord, attaching the scale to it. "That baby was cute."

"Very."

They turned back, watching as Lyle and Mansk exited the island's miniature forest. Mansk had a hastily made net of island fruits, while Lyle had a bruise on his head. 

What did that idiot do?

"Why're you two wet?" Mansk asked, flinging the net over his shoulder. 

"Carried a mermaid to the sea," Quaritch answered, quickly explaining it to Spider. "I'm not even joking."

"Fuck off. You didn't see a mermaid," Lyle huffed, looking at the band now on Spider's arm. "The hell is that?"

"My present for helping," Spider grinned, looking proud. "She was huge! Bigger than Miles! And she had this baby, too!"

Mansk and Lyle stared at Quaritch, baffled as he shrugged. It wasn't his fault that they missed the Kuäma rescue. 

Since she was nice enough to give him something, he might as well wear it. It might make Spider happier, too. 

Wearing it might make the sea clans more receptive to listening to him. He wasn't interested in hurting them; Quaritch would prefer they be left alone. 

At least it looks nice. 

Chapter Text

It was one of Spider's best moments in his life. He had never even heard of a Na'vi like the Kuäma - they did tsaheylu with their hands!

That baby was adorable, playing with Spider's hair and tapping his mask. While it was upsetting that his stripes washed away, he got to do something good. 

They weren't disgusted by Spider; they were amazed by him. It was a feeling he didn't know he needed. 

Her gift was beautiful; it wrapped nicely on his arm. The addition to his song cord was excellent but brought another feeling. Somehow, Spider knew she wouldn't have given him one of her scales if not for Miles being so fixated on filling out Spider's cord. 

Did her clan have a version of a song cord? 

The sea was so different from the forest; it was neverending and full of wonders. 

"This is so gross," Miles said, spitting out the bite he took from the fruit that Mansk found. "It's like piss." 

Though Miles needed help to get it on, Spider was glad he accepted her gift. It looked nice. 

"How would you know what that tastes like?" Spider questioned, though not seriously.

"Augustine thought it'd be funny to piss in my coffee once," Miles answered, though he sounded more insulted than disgusted. "I got revenge."

Weirdly, it sounds like something Kiri would do to Lo'ak. 

He missed her. Kiri was his best friend, the only one other than Lo'ak and Tuk that spent time with him. Neteyam used to, but then he stopped and never came back. That always hurt Spider. 

Mansk messaged them through the comms, letting them know he located a village. With a joyful crow, Cupcake changed direction, beating her wings. 

It was only a short time until they saw the village in the distance, though something was wrong. There was fire and smoke, cries of fear in the distance. It's like the opposite of those beautiful songs they heard earlier. 

Spider felt Miles pull him close against his chest, leaning down as Cupcake dove. 

He felt Miles go into soldier mode, shutting off and going cold. Miles is scary when he's like that. 

Cupcake opened her wings, gliding above the water and quickly approaching the village. 

"Stay underwater; the mask will keep you breathing," Miles said, hinting at what he would do. 

Giving a quick nod and readying himself, Cupcake flipped to the side, allowing Spider to fall into the water. It was rough and sudden, but he should be fine. 

Spider swam through the depths, wanting to be more helpful. He could see the reef near the village, full of dead fish and animals called Ilu; the RDA didn't kill them. 

While the soldiers used bullets, these animals were killed with spears and knives. It appeared that Na'vi were the aggressor, but that didn't make sense to Spider; Na'vi were peaceful with each other. 

As he found a spot to wait, he saw a strange creature swimming above him. It was long and had many fings and a saddle. A sea Na'vi swam on them, wearing waterproof paint and covered in another's blood. The animal she rode was snapping at nothing aggressively, lusting for blood. 

In Spider's gut, he knew to stay away from that Na'vi. They looked angry and hateful, similar to how the Recoms looked at Jake and Neytiri. 

Another joined them, moving their hands in weird ways. They seemed to wear armour, which didn't fit the Na'vi way. 

Unfortunately, the new one spotted Spider in the reefs, glaring hatefully at him. 

Hyperventilating, Spider squirmed through the reef, trying to find somewhere to escape them. The water mounts' long snouts would get through narrow gaps; Spider needed Miles, Mansk or Lyle to get to him. He didn't know what he could do. 

The attackers launched at Spider, trying to rip his flesh with their mounts. Though Spider narrowly found a spot to hunker down, he was trapped. 

He watched the riders dismount, trying to stick him with their spears, snarling under the water. 

Spider pressed the comms on his mask, panicking. 

"I'm stuck in a cave; two buttholes are trying to get me!"

"Hang tight, small fry," Wainfleet said over the comms. 

The male na'vi shoved his spear far, the tip scraping against Spider's chest and shoulder. The teen's panic rose, blood leaking from the new wound. It got the attackers excited, licking their teeth at the scent. 

He was scared. Spider didn't want to die, not when he started to get a family that wanted him. 

Spider yelled at the pair, cursing them in their language. They seemed surprised that he could speak their language. 

It caused enough confusion that when the bald Recom dropped into the water, they weren't prepared for the rifle that sprayed into their bodies. A stray got close to Spider, causing the panic to constrict his chest. 

Lyle motioned for him to come out, cheeks wide with breath. He couldn't wait as Spider could, so he'd have to come out regardless of his feelings. 

As Spider forced himself out of the little cave, he felt Lyle wrap his arm around him. The Recom swam to the surface, needing it more than Spider did. 

Spider could hear gunfire and Ikran screeching when they were atop the water. Na'vi were yelling and roaring, fighting each other. It was confusing; why were they fighting? 

The Recom pulled Spider to the beach, putting his hand over Spider's wound. He got behind a burning village hut, analysing Spider's oncoming panic attack.

"Listen, kid," Lyle started, getting Spider to pay attention to him. "Count backwards. Focus on me and nothing else. Fuck whatever's going on, ok?" 

Although there was chaos everywhere, Spider tried to follow him. He tried, shaking against the bald Recom.

Lyle's calmness was effective, counting to Spider and going into fatherly mode. It was practised and clear like he had done this many times before. 

Though everything was scary, Spider did his best. He was still shaking, but his lungs didn't feel full of lead. Even so, Spider's body was shutting down, refusing to listen to him. 

He picked Spider up with ease, ears swivelling at every noise. 

"Got 'em running, sir," Mansk's voice echoed in his mask. 

"Send them to Davey Jones," Miles ordered, though Spider didn't know what that meant.

From Mansk's amused huff, it wasn't good. 

Spider gripped Lyle's shoulder, trying not to look at the wound on his shoulder. The blood from it felt hot. It was rare that Spider ever bled. 

"Are they ok?" asked a Na'vi woman, half of her face tattooed. Lyle hissed at her, lashing his tail aggressively. "I'm a healer. Let me look at it."

He patted Lyle's chest, letting him know it was ok. 

She cautiously stepped forward, looking at the injury. She pulled something from her skirt, spreading an ugly, sticky paste onto his wound. It stung, but adrenaline dulled his pain. 

"I am Zeykti Te Ufu Tsuìkxeal'ite. I heal. Do you not understand me?" Zeykti said, tilting her head at the confused Lyle. "Small one. What is your name?"

"Spider," he said, struggling with his words. "That's Lyle. He's Deja Blu; they don't speak Na'vi."

"Spider. You need rest. Kxeìnge spears cut deep."

"Why were they attacking you?" Spider asked, hating how the paste felt on his skin. 

"They are Kxeìnge; they take and kill. It is their way. We are Muolhaweng. We fish; we do not fight," she explained, though it only raised more questions for Spider. "Tell your friend to follow me. I will take you to tsahik."

Spider relayed the info to Lyle, feeling the Recom shift to better carry him. It felt weird, and Spider wasn't used to this contact. 

The Recom followed Zeykti, his tail waving anxiously, constantly checking Spider. He acted like Miles, but there's a practice to it; he's done it before. 

They reached the tsahik's hut; she was leaning over a female Na'vi's body, visibly distraught. From what Spider could understand, she was the tsahik's child.

The woman wore orange fabrics, coral and seaweed that took time to craft. Half of her face was tattooed, swirling like an ocean wave. A fresh cut was under her eye, breaking the artwork. 

Zeykti caught the tsahik's attention; the secondary leader of the village hissed at Lyle and Spider. Her flat, paddle-like tail was cut at the end; it also looked like someone bit her fifth appendage. 

"Is one of the Ikran Makto that drove Kxeìnge away. The small one is hurt. Must repay," Zeykti said, crouching beside her tsahik. "This is Tsahik Tsìari Te Tsao Kxamzeu'ite. She is strong with the Great Daughter and All Mother."

Tsìari motioned for Lyle to lay Spider down. She inspected the boy, praising Zeykti for applying the paste early. She took a bowl of foul-looking slick, bringing it towards Spider. 

"Must drink. Will clear toxins from the Kxeìnge's spear," Tsìari commanded, poking the mask. 

"What's that crap? Stinks," Lyle said, scrunching his face at the bowl. "Worse than diarrhoea, yeesh!"

"It's medicine," Spider explained, readying to hold his breath. "To prevent an infection," he lied, knowing Lyle would freak out if he knew the real reason. 

Spider lifted his mask, quickly taking the tsahik's concoction. It was as bad as it looked; it tasted like rotten vomit. Even so, Spider didn't want to get sick or die from some sea poison. 

He hastily put his mask back on, struggling not to throw up. 

"You're bolder than I am. I'd rather die," Lyle admitted, patting Spider's back. His right ear flicked, listening to something. Spider didn't have time to catch the comm. "Boss' coming. Mansk grabbed somebody." 

He relayed the information to the tsahik, seeing the anger in her eyes grow. It wasn't directed at him and Lyle, thankfully. 

"The Kxeìnge are hateful. They will be sent to the Great Daughter for their attack," the tsahik hissed, sending Zeykti away to help others. "We thank the "Deja" for helping us." 

She wasn't happy they were in her village, but the gratitude was genuine. 

A distressed masculine na'vi came to the hut, embracing the tsahik. He must be her mate, the Olo'eyktan. They pressed foreheads, whispering sweet expressions of thankfulness and love. His joy at seeing his mate alive dissolved at seeing his child, his cries like knives on a plate. 

Grief was never something that Spider could cope with. He couldn't grieve for his parents; he didn't know his mother, and anything involving his father was forbidden. The McCoskers left a void when they left, but he was glad they were gone. There were many na'vi he knew that died, but they never let him get close enough. 

At some point, he was under the impression that the only ones that'd grieve for him were Kiri, Tuktirey and Lo'ak. Nobody else seemed remotely interested enough to care. 

Lyle's steady hand on Spider's arm said otherwise, though. When Spider looked up at the bald Recom, he saw empathy.

Not sympathy, where you understand that somebody's hurting, but empathy, where you know what someone's enduring.

It dawned on Spider what that meant. At some point, Lyle was a father and had lost his child. Although Spider had encountered orphans, he didn't meet many parents that lost a child.

The idea of a child dying before their parents felt wrong and unnatural. 

With how much Miles tried to bond with Spider, it must be the man's greatest fear that Spider would join Eywa before him. 

"Does it ever stop hurting?" Spider asked, hinting that he figured it out.

"Nah, kid. Same for anyone you lose, honestly. It's like ripping a page out of a book. You remember it was there, and it'll always bother you; the best you can do is enjoy what you remember." 

He didn't like hearing Lyle like that, sad and lost, like there was an echoing void that couldn't be filled. 

There's another sadness to it, too. As the tsahik and olo'eyktan can relive memories with their lost one, Lyle can't. His kid didn't die on Pandora, so Eywa could not embrace them. He'd never see them again.

It's not like Spider can ever see Topaz, but he knows she's with Eywa. She doesn't discriminate; she accepts all souls with love. 

In the distance, Spider saw a flare of dark purple with yellow accents. 

Cupcake roared as she landed in shallow water, alerting all to her presence. It didn't take long for Whiskey to pounce at her tail, excited to see his companion; out of the Ikran, he was the least intelligent, but he tried. 

Spider watched Miles jump from her back, practically sprinting to the hut. When he needed to, the man could run. Having a young body must help, but there's something about the Recoms' stamina. They must've been grown that way as super soldiers. 

Miles didn't even register the Olo'eyktan or the tsahik; he was fixated on Spider. He looked terrified, looking the teen over, tail lashing anxiously. 

The Olo'eyktan's annoyance at the intrusion shifted to understanding Miles' behaviour.

Spider didn't want Miles to have the despairing pain on the Na'vi's face, nor the pained vacancy in Lyle's voice. Out of those in charge of Spider's well-being, Miles was the best of them. 

"I got him," Lyle said, coming from a place of understanding. "Got a little nicked, but he's alright." 

Miles' terror changed to anger, but not at Spider. Having blamed himself for several things, Spider recognised it quickly.

It also made him think about how Jake and Neytiri reacted whenever their kids were hurt or in danger. It confused him. 

When Neteyam was hurt, his back bleeding, Jake didn't look at the injury. He chastised Neteyam and Lo'ak, only easing up when Neytiri pointed out Neteyam's wound. Jake didn't express fear or concern for his son; he was angry, acting like a squad leader to a soldier.

But Jake was Spider's only example of being a good father. Nash McCosker barely liked his children; Jake was all Spider had as a comparison. 

"Lyle got them," Spider assured, lightly brushing away Miles' anxious hands. "That's what they get for messing with Deja Blu," he added, feeling the grin behind Lyle. 

Though technically a squad, Deja Blu felt like a family. Spider had a guardian and many uncles, plus a fun aunt. He'll be able to meet his human aunt, plus his cousins. That's going to be exciting. Miles sounded so happy that his sister was still alive. 

Curiously, Spider could see Miles' fear and concern melt into pride. He was proud of him. 

"Damn straight, kid," Miles agreed, ruffling Spider's messy locks. "I take it that's the head honcho of the village?" Miles guessed, looking back at the Olo'eyktan and tsahik.

They were fixated on the necklace around Miles' neck. 

"This one has been gazed at by the Daughter," the tsahik said, stunned by the revelation. Who was the Daughter? Why were they staring at the necklace? "Child. Where did this one get that necklace?"

Miles noticed their gaze, fiddling with the item around his neck. Lyle poked at it, equally confused. 

"From a Kuäma lady. She got stuck on an island with her baby, so we helped her go home - she gave that to him as a thank you. She gave me this, too," Spider answered, pointing out his new armband. "We didn't know what she was saying, so she offered tsaheylu with him."

That only intrigued them more.

The Olo'eyktan introduced himself to Spider, visibly more accepting of them now. He held his child's hand, always returning to look at her lovingly. 

The Kuäma are an ancient people, older than any of the na'vi villages they knew of. They had lived in the sea as long as the Tulkun, children to Ngaknay - whoever that was; she sounded important. It is considered a blessing to hear their song, let alone see one or earn a gift. 

When the tsahik inquired how they found the Kuäma with her babe, Spider explained that Miles followed the sound. He seemed to understand what she was trying to say and believed it was because he was Na'vi. 

Sort of.

Spider was told otherwise, however. Only the Tulkun can hear the meaning of the Kuämas songs; it is not for Na'vi to understand. The fact that Miles did understand her baffled them, though it possibly explained why she would give such a noticeable gift to him. 

According to Äonghai Te Tsao Engkey'itan, Miles belonged with the ocean like them. 

Spider's only theory as to why was that Eywa did this. She must've seen what Spider was seeing, a man trying to do his best in an impossible situation; perhaps Eywa is telling him where they can begin anew?

When Spider translated, they were more confused. 

"Man, how come all I got was a fruit thrown at me?" Lyle grumbled, punching Miles' shoulder, feigning jealousy. "I'd look far more pretty."

"As pretty as a horse's shaven ass, maybe."

"You know you love me."

"You grew on me like a parasite, Corporal."

"A pretty parasite."

"Shut that damn mouth of yours, and I might agree." 

How were these two supposed to take on the Omaticaya? They're idiots.

Lethal idiots, granted, but still morons. 

But they're Spider's morons. He wouldn't have them any other way. 

"We came here to warn you. Ardmore, their Olo'eyktan, has ordered that they burn any village they come across - we snuck out to warn you guys. If you take your things and people and go, you'll be safe," Spider said, concerning the pair.

The Olo'eyktan analysed Miles for a few moments, eyes narrowing. 

"This is the demon that has killed," the Olo'eyktan identified, both irritated and confused. 

"They don't want to. They're good people; they want to live in the waters like you, but their Olo'eyktan won't let them. Ardmore wants Jake Sully badly. We cannot lie to them; she has eyes that see for her. They're doing it because if they don't, she'll take me away and hurt me," Spider stressed, glancing at the unaware Recoms.

They were oblivious to the Olo'eyktan and tsahik's concerns, trusting Spider. 

"The bald one knows of our loss. I understand his reasoning to protect you, child. The Daughter has gazed at that one for a reason, and we will not ignore where her eye has laid. We will go and tell others," the tsahik said, holding her hand to Spider. It was a string with many beads and shells. "Go to the Maka'alo. They will provide Uturu."

Uturu is seeking a sanctuary, a seldom used practice that is binding once accepted. If they did go to the Maka'alo and Uturu was given, the ocean clans would become allies. 

Although it endangered the ocean clans, they were already under threat. Deja Blu could share their military knowledge and help the sea na'vi defend their homes. It lets them be free of Ardmore's grasp. 

They can be free; Spider can live with his new family unimpeded. 

"Who's this Daughter they keep mentioning?" Miles asked with his ears up and paying attention. 

Spider asked them.

"Eywa is but the bark of a tree, child; she has many branches. The Daughter is the branch of the sea, the very ocean itself. She is the coming tide and the waking storm. From the smallest coral to the titan Nalutsa, she is all. She has decided you are of us; you are kin to the sea," Tsìari elaborated, pausing for Spider to translate.

"You are our brothers and sisters now. Ngaknay has spoken," Äonghai continued, motioning out of the hut. "When you return home, do not forget you have your place among us." 

Never had the Omaticaya or the scientists ever talked about branches of Eywa. It was foreign to Spider, strange and abnormal. If Eywa was real, though, how could he say Ngaknay wasn't?

Out of respect for the grieving leaders, the trio left the hut. Mansk went past them, delivering a hurt and handcuffed sea Na'vi to them. 

Excited to see his friend again, Whiskey nudged Firefly, almost knocking her over into the water. Infuriated, Firefly pounced on the male, shrieking at him and beating her wings. 

Cupcake snapped at Firefly, pushing her away from the oblivious male. It was fascinating to observe their dynamic, acting outside of their rider's desires. It was unusual for Spider to see it. 

The Ikran all had curious names, too.

Cupcake was an earth confectionary; he saw the McCoskers make one whenever it was the kids' birthday. Although Spider questioned why Miles named her that, his answer was baffling; he said she wanted it. An Ikran didn't choose their name, so it confused him. 

Whiskey's an earth alcoholic drink, one of Lyle's favourites. Given how the male behaved, it fits; he acted drunk constantly. 

Firefly was an earth bug, extinct for over a century. She earned it due to her dark colouring with bright orange accents on the edges of her wings and almost yellow tail. They glowed on earth curiously. 

Lopez's Ikran was called Zelda, a character for an earth game of the same name. Though a standard blue with dark striping, he thought she was magnificent.

Shredder, Ja's Ikran, was bright purple with lavender stripes; he was fierce and habitually chewed things. As a youngster, he was shedding teeth more often than the others. Ja liked collecting Shredder's teeth. 

Z-Dog's Ikran was called Quicksilver, a warm purple with a silvery gradient. He was as fast as Cupcake and Noah's Ikran. 

Prager's had two names. When Spider questioned why he had two, Noah said one was more accessible for the "Rednecks" to pronounce. Wolfgang was standardly used, but the one that Prager called him was Gwyllgi; it's a creature from his culture. 

Their flock is different to the ones in the Omaticaya. They tended to play more, acting outside of their rider's desires. It wasn't uncommon for Zelda and Shredder to steal things from the human crew for fun. They also liked to annoy Scoresby whenever possible. 

Lyle ran to his winged fool to keep Whiskey from getting bitten. Firefly was in a bad mood, and Whiskey was somehow blind to it.

It was baffling how Whiskey managed to survive this long. 

"How're you doing?" Miles asked, taking Spider's attention. "Didn't mean to get you hurt, kid."

"I know," Spider said, noticing that Miles' tail never stopped waving anxiously. He put on a stoic-like face but couldn't control his tail. "You're just different."

Finally, Miles' tail stopped moving. He looked confused. 

"Different, how?"

"Jake yells at Lo'ak and Neteyam."

He didn't have such a tight bond with his Ikran, either. As much as Spider respected Jake as a Makto, he didn't have the same relationship the Recoms had with their Ikran. It was understandable why Neytiri limited her bond with her Ikran after losing Seze in the war. 

"I've been in their place, even if it was my dumbass' fault. It doesn't solve shit, I assure you." 

That made sense. Lo'ak always got yelled at, and it didn't change anything. It never changed when Spider got yelled at, too. It's as though nothing they did would ever stop the angry fits directed at them. 

"You yell at the team."

"When you're with a squad, you give commands, not requests. They follow, or everyone is at risk - every choice is life or death. A firm tone is warranted in certain scenarios - It's not the same with kids like you."

"How?"

"When you're hurt, you need somebody there. Hollering won't do crap but make you feel like a burden. Yell at a kid too much over anything, and they can give up and not even try anymore - because what's the point if you get the same result?" 

Spider didn't like how much sense that made. When did he give up? 

It didn't fit Jake's constant angry outbursts with Lo'ak and Neyetam because they weren't a squad or soldiers. It didn't compute. 

The pair's attention turned to distressed yelling and splashing. Spider went to investigate first, knowing that Miles would follow him. 

A hut had sunken in the waters due to the several fires but had trapped one of those slender fish creatures. Several na'vi attempted to do something with ropes and fishing spears but couldn't get close. Those long jaws snapped wildly, threatening to eat any that got too close. 

Whatever they are, they're huge. 

As the rider wasn't around, the mount should be left alone. The fishermen didn't appear to have the same belief, though. They growled at the creature, blaming it for its rider's actions. 

Spider told them to stop and leave it be. The na'vi glared at Spider, but Miles' serious scowl kept them at bay. 

"Remove it from our land," hissed a feminine fisher, pointing her bloodied spear at Miles. "It is Kxeìnge. It must leave!"

A mount doesn't get to choose their clan. It's unfair to judge them on something they have no choice in. 

Miles climbed atop the hut, looking into the accidental cage as Spider joined him. The beast within was angry and in pain, wounds covering its body and a brand carved into its back.

The reins were unlike what the Omaticaya made; they appeared constricting and painful for the animal. 

"Stay here," Miles said, analysing the situation. "This fella's gonna give me a rodeo show."

"What?"

Spider didn't get to inquire what a rodeo was before Miles jumped in. Even though Spider did this with the ancient ocean na'vi, she wasn't as nearly aggressive as this animal. This one looked ready to rip somebody in half; it could swallow Spider whole. 

As the clan they helped watched, Miles stayed behind the animal's jaws, using his knife to cut away the reins and ropes. It didn't stop the animal from keeping its mouth open threateningly. 

Weirdly, Miles went under the creature for a few moments, popping up on the other side. Why?

It eased the animal a little, making it easier for Miles to pull stakes away from its gills. Miles touched the animal's snout, watching it bring its neural whip to him. Without hesitation, Miles joined the creature. 

The Recoms' misunderstanding of the significance and sacredness of the tsaheylu usually worked in their favour. They weren't private about their queues or who they bonded with. It wasn't intimate to them. Due to this, Miles showed no problem connecting to such a volatile and unknown animal. 

The fishermen were perplexed, telling Miles to break from the bloodlust beast. Of course, Miles didn't know what they were saying. He probably wouldn't have listened if he could. 

However, Spider had to join them when Miles shoved his arm into the animal's throat. He was horrified; why would Miles risk losing his arm? 

The fear of losing his guardian, the only one that wanted him, struck Spider. He was scared of being alone, even though he had Lyle and the others. Miles filled a void in him that the others didn't. 

His fear momentarily faded when Miles pulled out a spear, allowing the beast to close its mouth. 

"It is crazy," a masculine fisherman scolded, waving his hand dismissively. "It should've eaten him." 

"Maybe that's why the Daughter sees him," Spider said, wanting to stick up for the lunatic. "He's got the gift of a Kuäma. See for yourself," Spider added, pointing to Miles' neck. 

Their aggressive attitudes quickly changed, going from annoyed to fascinated. 

The animal sank into the water, remerging under Miles. 

"Don't you dare, you fishy bastard," Miles scolded, his ears falling back and tail stiffening. "No! Sushi!"

What's a Sushi?

The mount shifted in the water, backing up slightly. The na'vi jumped from the hut, keeping distance, which concerned Spider. Why?

His question was soon answered when Sushi propelled itself from the hut, no longer restrained. Its fings fanned out, gliding over the water like an ocean Ikran. 

"What the fuck is he doing?" Lyle asked, finally back from dealing with his idiot mount. "Is that a giant fish?"

"It is a Tsurak, a war mount," Zeykti clarified, watching curiously. "We do not use them, but many other clans do. The Metkayina are the most proficient."

So, that thing's a Tsurak? It looked lethal and temperamental. 

Given that it's for war, that made sense. 

Spider and Lyle watched as Miles changed position on "Sushi", talking back to it, though they couldn't hear him. 

It went in several circles, diving and jumping, before returning to the beach. It unceremoniously beached itself, letting Miles roll off onto his back. The guy looked like he got thirty years shaved off his life, much to the Tsurak's amusement. 

Instead of fleeing, the sea mount remained, staying in shallow water. 

"You good?" Lyle asked, crouching over the exhausted Recom.

"Fuck off."

"He's fine," Lyle concluded, patting Spider's back. "Why the hell did you try riding the giant fish?"

"He's an asshole," was all Miles would say, throwing a middle finger to the Tsurak. It didn't insult the animal as it let out a hiss reminiscent of a laugh. "He's laughing at me."

Seeing it up close explained why Miles switched sides; its eyes from one side were missing, making it half-blind. It couldn't see him. 

"Well, you do make for a good joke, sir."

"I will make the carpet match the drapes, Lyle, by hand."

Lyle stepped back as Miles sat up, hands up in mock surrender. 

Spider will ask Mansk and Lopez what that means later. He wanted to return to the SeaDragon and rest; today was stressful and eventful. 

Seeing Miles dragged around by a big fish was funny, at least.

Chapter Text

Something was wrong. 

When Lyle got up for a piss, he noticed the door to the Colonel's quarters was open. That wasn't right. He was super anxious regarding sleep; he always needed the door locked. The fact that he fell asleep next to Lyle was huge and not something he would share with the others.

It's not that Lyle didn't trust them; he respected the Colonel's peculiar anxiety around sleep. Whatever caused it must've been major, like many things in the guy's life. 

Lyle didn't know everything; the Colonel was a private person. He couldn't fault the man, either. Lyle talked about loss, especially about family, for the first time with Spider. It wasn't something he was happy about. 

He didn't like knowing there was nothing but this team. They're his family, all he had. They were imperative to him, and he wanted to keep them safe.

There's something about this second chance. They're capable of being more. 

Pandora allows them to be free and experience life without being a slave to a corporation. They don't have to sacrifice themselves for some asshole in a comfy office. 

There are many changes in their new lives. They have the trauma of the old but the chance to be more. Despite the suffocating grip the RDA had, the ocean people offered hope. Go to the Maka'alo and request refuge. It'd be temporary; he knew their ragtag group of idiots wouldn't last long in a na'vi commune. 

They were better off making a new home on one of the several islands across the archipelago. There were so many to choose from. 

Spider deserved that life. They all did, even if many weren't ready to accept that. 

Lyle looked into the usual places the Recom congregated but found nothing. The Colonel occasionally did this at Hell's Gate; only Parker knew where. Since Parker's not here, Lyle's alone. Mostly. 

Everyone was asleep. 

Everybody but the fat ass that ran the ship. 

"The fuck do you want, baldy?" Scoresby grumbled, eating something salty and vinegary. "I'm enjoying my peace. Don't mess it up with your dumbarse."

"You see Quaritch?" Lyle asked, ears up, annoyed.

He wouldn't tell this asshole that the boss has a thing about sleep. 

"The dead fucker where the six-legged bears shit or the Jenga tower made of toothpicks next to a fan?" Scoresby said, unaffected by Lyle's growing frustration. He couldn't care less. "I'll warn you once, egghead. Your mate is on thin ice."

"You don't know shit," Lyle huffed, shaking his head.

It was useless to ask Scoresby. 

"I got a knack for reading people, baldy. Fuck knows why, but I do. I can see a cunt, and I know what's wrong. Your sorry arse is like me, a Vilomah." 

Lyle's ears perked up, both insulted and curious. 

"You had a kid?"

"Two - Lost the first to murder, the usual shit, then the other to cancer. If you can't pay, they take it away. Joys of capitalism. Funnels you right into the RDA's gaping arse."

The fact that the man was speaking sense was worrying. The RDA had a habit of being vultures, hunting down people at their lowest points. 

If he could detect that from Lyle, was he right about the Colonel?

"I'll bite. What's the warning?"

"Already gave it. I've seen it all before with you marine pricks, burying it all down, but trauma's a nasty bitch. It comes back from the dead like debt, and it wants payment. Do the ponytail dance, and you'll see for yourself - blue bastard went through my moonshine, so he should be drunk enough. That shit's poison to limp dicks like Garvin." 

"Where?"

"The whale deck where your little budgies flock. I don't care about you blue twats, but he makes Garvin squirm, and that's pure bollock entertainment."

"One of these days, I'm gonna throw you off this boat."

"Then I win."

Lyle doesn't follow that logic, but somehow, the bastard is right. 

Flicking his tail with irritation, the Recom went outside, momentarily debating whether to shut the door. Muscle memory chose him. 

He hopped onto the ship's side, walking up the hull where the tub of lard said his buddy would be. Surprisingly, he was correct; Lyle could see the Colonel's glowing spots. 

The righthand man made his way to his boss, already smelling alcohol. It stank like poison or something toxic. 

With caution, Lyle made his way to Quaritch, aware he didn't like being snuck up on. The boss has a lot of quirks about him that hint at a dark history. 

If he could, he'd take it away from all of them; the Recoms were damaged people.

They all had a vicious and unforgiving history. While Lyle knew about most of them, even Mansk's messed up situation, not even he got past the Colonel's barriers. The kid had no idea how far he got through to the stupid bastard; it took Lyle a decade to get to that level of openness with him. 

He was always more talkative when drunk and would at least mention something that explained his quirks. 

Lyle had a feeling this would be one of those times. 

"Cold out," Lyle said, alerting his comrade. Though Quaritch's ears flicked in his direction, the man remained still. "Hope that ain't bleach," he continued, sitting beside his best friend. 

The banshees were huddled in a pile, though Whiskey appeared to have fallen from it. 

Lyle loved that empty-headed idiot. Whiskey had almost no brain cells but did his best. All he wanted was friends.

Mansk's banshee wasn't interested in being friends with anybody; Firefly was a lone wolf. She always argued with one of the squad, only stopping when Cupcake got fed up. 

Possibly the most beautiful of the banshees, Cupcake was fierce and proud and quickly became the top bitch, keeping the others in the line. She often snapped at Shredder when he started chewing something important-looking. 

"How come they get four eyes, but we got two?" Quaritch mumbled, alcohol staining his breath. "I want four arms. Or four legs. Could've been a centaur up in this bitch." 

That's a funny image. 

"Don't ask me. I failed science," Lyle shrugged, his tail tapping the frigid deck. "Why're you out here? It's a lot warmer inside." 

It took a few minutes for the question to register. Quaritch was fucked, more so than Lyle had seen before. The idiot must've underestimated Scoresby's moonshine. 

"I didn't want to get out," Quaritch grumbled, taking a swig from a bottle. Lyle saw at least five empty ones scattered and shattered nearby. There were nearly three more yet to be touched. "The crash. I figured everybody else was dead and didn't mind being another name. Your bald ass had to ruin it. Fucking duty and all; don't leave a man behind."

That's new. He never even hinted at that before. 

They stayed alive because of each other. Those were hard eighteen days out there; it wasn't like they had anything else to keep them going. 

"Likewise, old man. I would've rolled over and become plant chow, but you kept going, so I did, too," Lyle agreed, uncertain of his friend's mental stability. Hell knew how much poison he ingested. "My sister was on that ship. Her body, at least. She died on the inside a while ago." 

"The quack on this boat said my baby sister's alive. Even got three kids."

Well, shit. Lyle was under the impression that all of Quaritch's siblings were dead, although he never got the details of how they died. 

He knew about Nathaniel, the older brother, Eleanor and Scarlett. It took three years to get Eleanor's name; he seemed particularly hurt by her. 

After losing all of his sisters, Lyle could understand. He was surprised that not only Scarlett was alive, but she had kids, too. 

"The fucker said there's a way to put kids in cryo. So long as they're a year old, it's possible. Parker would've known about that - he'd get Spider if the rest of us were fucked. I can't help but think they kept him here. Earth's a fucking mess and deader than roadkill, but Parker would've looked after him."

Whoever "looked after" Spider did an awful job. Poor kid didn't even know Topaz's name, and nobody who stayed was close to those who looked after him as a toddler. They didn't know them at all. What bullshit did they tell Spider about his parents? About his godparents?

Even if it's true that they kept Spider on Pandora, why? What would be the point of doing that? Nobody wanted the poor kid except for the Recoms. Nobody's even attempted to come looking for him. 

If it was some weird way to get back at Quaritch, that wasn't fair on an innocent baby. 

How long has Quaritch been thinking about this? It's upsetting him, but it took alcohol to talk about it. 

Lyle would be livid if someone kept Matthew on an alien world to somehow spite him. 

"I never wanted to be a father. I tried not to be. Fucked up anyway." The way he said it was heartbreaking. "Vowed that I wouldn't be like that chatichat chara mizdayen but look, I'm drinking and running." 

He's been around Z-Dog long enough to recognise Yiddish. 

From what Lyle knows, it means "piece of fucking shit". Z's used it enough for him to understand the basics. 

Deciphering the specific wording, it's about Quaritch's father. He never talked about that and wouldn't acknowledge any questions that hinted towards the subject. If someone asked Parker, the guy shut it down quickly. 

Since he's so talkative tonight, Lyle could try to see what's wrong. 

Even if only a little, he can try to help. 

He didn't even need to ask. 

"I wish I did it. I emptied the damn mag so Nathan didn't feel guilty, not that he should've. I should've done it ages ago. Too fucking cowardly to do it." 

Well, fuck. 

"Your brother shot your old man?" 

"What else was he meant to do? Chatichat zevel nearly broke my neck, choking me out, and I didn't even register that he ripped my pants. And after what he did to mom, too. It's one thing to see someone's head go pop like a balloon - I still had her blood and brain bits on me - but watching a man beat your mother to death is something else. It's odd how you can see the light just gone from somebody. There's this colour, and then there's just grey. Hold this-"

Lyle blankly stared as Quaritch shoved the bottle into his hands, leaning to the side and emptying his stomach. The smell was horrendous, worse than the usual alcohol rejection. 

The sheer dismissiveness of it was disturbing. 

So, from what he's heard, Nathan shot their father after he killed their mother, was choking out Quaritch and potentially tried to assault him? And he's so casual about it like it doesn't affect him as much as it does. Somewhere in that mess was alcohol, maybe explaining why he needed to be away from Spider whilst drunk. 

And somehow, before all that happened, somebody's head exploded, and during all that, Quaritch still had parts of their matter on him? What?

Heavily concerned, the Corporal poured the liquid garbage out, adding to the empty bottles. It didn't stop the Colonel in the slightest, merely grabbing another. He bit the top, shattering the bottleneck and spitting the residue out. 

"When did that happen?" Lyle asked, watching his comrade cautiously. 

Is this what Scoresby was talking about? 

"My thirteenth, and I joined the military a year later, thanks to Rafael. Became like a dad to me. This will be funny; guess what happened with that guy."

What the actual fuck?

"It's not going to be funny."

"So, get this. We were in that thing out in some crap hole, Australia or Austria, and it was mega screwed. By that time, most of the team was dead. I was cutting wires to this bomb - right? It was some-nuclear shit, and General Raf stabbed me in the back. Literally! Left me to die in mud and crap, but the knife plugged the hole!"

That sounds eerily like something Lyle had heard about. 

"Raf? As in, Rafael Holland?"

The psycho from Operation Bloodstone?

It was a wild story from Earth. A terrorist organisation rebelling against the Eurasian Conclave and planned on turning Europe into Chornobyl on steroids to eliminate overpopulation and that crap. Understandable motivation, but it was still mass genocide. 

A task force got set up to stop it, a suicide mission headed by General Rafael Holland - it was called Operation Bloodstone. The exact members were classified but were hard-ass marines that went through a particularly nasty active warzone. 

It got bad fast. From the bits and pieces that the guys at Hell's Gate managed to read, the terrorists would stop at nothing to ensure their plan came to fruition, regardless of who got caught in the crossfire. They had to get through Estonia - it got bordered off after the people got so hungry that they became cannibals.

After nearly thirty years of no outside contact, the people were borderline feral. 

And after it all, the General turned around and, supposedly, killed the team. Many sources said he switched sides or the bomb was meant to be repurposed for only the terrorists. Regardless, it was confirmed that General Holland was killed by "friendly fire". 

"I had a choice to make," Quaritch started, staring off into nothingness. "I just lay there, or I do something. I used the knife he stabbed me with, drove it into his neck, and watched the colour wash away. The punchline is that I got charged with treason. Ain't that a bitch?" he finished, taking another swig. "Would've been executed, but Parker offered me a spot on a shuttle to some fuck-off planet."

The RDA vultures circled another poor lost bastard. 

Lyle took the other bottle, tossing it into the ocean. Barely aware of it, Quaritch returned to his drink, but Lyle snagged it. There wasn't much resistance; the man's motor functions still thought it was this morning.

There was a drunken growl of annoyance, waving a hand back at the bottle. When he looked like he'd be sick again, Lyle manoeuvred the taller soldier to lay on his side. To keep his head off the floor and potentially choke on his puke, Lyle rested him in his lap.

Although far from preferred, somebody needed to look after this man. He worked himself to the bone to keep them safe, be it as Recoms or at Hell's Gate. While he was out there to take care of them, who was there for him? As close as Topper got, she didn't see this.

He suspected that Miles drank more often than any of them saw but did it behind closed doors, isolated. 

Isolation doesn't make anything go away. It becomes a feedback loop, an echo chamber that destroys you. 

"I was a dad before coming to this rock," Lyle said, feeling the man shift to look at him. He was fucked out of his head, but he still wanted to listen to him. "Had a brilliant young lad, Matthew; he loved dinosaurs - he'd ramble about them for hours. Mei wanted to be an artist; she was great at painting stars. Xiang was a little shit like me. You would've liked her." 

Empathetic sadness washed over Miles. 

"I almost got him killed."

Somehow, Lyle already knew what he was talking about. 

"It was a quick decision. And we didn't know there were massive chainsaw salmon. Besides, I took care of it," Lyle assured, patting his boss' shoulder. "Got a bit scared, but he's alright. Doesn't blame you at all."

Lyle's got more context to what Miles was so nervous about. His only paternal figures were awful. 

More than damaged but broken, just about appearing stable on the outside. 

"Let's get you back inside," Lyle started, about to get up but pausing. Miles was stiff, staring at something not there again.

He did that occasionally. They were under the impression he was focusing or quickly devising a plan. It never lasted longer than a few seconds, maybe twenty at most. It occurred enough for Lyle to count until his boss returned to the situation. 

But Lyle hadn't seen it when Miles was drunk. As he couldn't hide behind a stoic scowl, more was happening. 

Miles is shivering, breathing quickly and hasty, ears pinned back and tail curled. His face twisted into something unfamiliar, fixated on nothingness like a deer in headlights. Despite shaking, he felt as stiff as a rock. He was weirdly silent, too, like forcing himself not to make a sound. 

He'd never seen that before, not in the twelve years of knowing the guy. 

Instead of some seconds, it went on for four minutes. As sudden as it had started, it stopped, though Miles looked exhausted afterwards. 

"What was that?" Lyle inquired, ears flat and concerned. 

"Nothin'," Miles grumbled. He's not good at lying when drunk. "It just happens. Nothin' to worry about." 

Every time they saw a brief blank look, that was what was happening inside. It looked like a miniature version of a panic or anxiety attack. 

He didn't like how dismissive Miles was about it. 

Is it a PTSD thing? That's more than likely. Miles has certainly seen enough to get it. 

And then there's the crap that Lyle still didn't know about. 

He shifted again, dragging Miles' arm over his shoulder. The other man could barely stand, eyes blinking lazily and only half conscious.

Miles' issue regarding sleep is unsafe for people not aware of it.

Lyle tried to warn the pukes when they woke him up after pulling him from the tube, but they didn't listen. It took Zhang, Fike and Z-Dog to get him still enough to wake up; he tends to go into fight-or-flight mode when half-conscious. 

Given the pieces he learned tonight, something insanely traumatic caused it. 

How long was he willing to live without talking to anybody?

Lyle couldn't judge; he's only talked about his kids twice and only said their names for the first time in roughly twenty-five years. He hadn't spoken about his sisters, mom or how he's a widower yet, either. 

Feeling alone in those emotions didn't help. It didn't feel good, but leaving it to bubble inside was like self-harm. At least he had a pleasant family; all Miles had was them. 

His absolute anger towards Jake made more sense; he felt betrayed by Mister Meals on Wheels. 

Now there's everything with Spider to add to it, and somehow, the dumbass will blame himself. 

Lyle wouldn't have it; someone had to keep this crazy fucker from drowning in all this crap. 

"Come on, big guy, one foot in front of the other," Lyle stated, ready to earn another broken nose. He wasn't going to leave Miles all alone like this. "There we go, hot shot."

"Lech tizdayyen..."

Yiddish is funny when spoken drunkenly. 

Finally, he managed to get the blue adonis inside. Thankfully, Scoresby was out cold with a bottle of his disgusting moonshine. 

He had to stop when Miles' started retching, emptying his stomach again. He'll leave it for Scoresby.

Lyle attempted to get him back quietly, but an unsuspecting Prager saw them whilst leaving a lavatory. Without hesitating, he jumped to help, taking Miles' other arm. 

"What happened to him?" Noah asked, scrunching his nose at the stench. "Iesu Mawr! What is that? Fuck, it's rotten."

Jade's weird Romanian-Yiddish fusions made more sense than bloody Welsh. 

Na'vi made more sense than Welsh. 

"Devil ball puss," Lyle sighed, manoeuvring to Miles' quarters. "If anybody asks for me, I'll be with him."

"You wanna stay with the sleeping ninja? The man knows jujitsu when half awake."

"Given the hangover he's given himself, I should be fine," Lyle shrugged, helping Miles inside with Prager. He was barely conscious, and Lyle would likely need a sick bucket. "Go back to sleep and make sure Spider eats breakfast. I'll stay with him."

It made Lyle think about how Miles did fall asleep next to him. It was with Spider, sure, but it still happened, and he was weird about it. How long had it been since he slept next to another person? 

Although probably a fluke, it could mean Lyle was safe to the "sleep ninja". If so, he should be alright when Miles starts to return to the waking world, albeit with a hangover. 

After the two got him onto his bed, Prager gave a mocking wave of goodbye.

The Welsh fucker shut the door behind him with mock sorrow as though Lyle would be found dead in the morning. 

If he could, he'd ship that little brat back to Cymru. 

"This hangover's gonna suck, sir," Lyle said, patting Miles' back. He barely registered it, hardly moving. "See you in the morning."

"Staying?" the boss questioned, half of his pretty face smooshed in a pillow. 

"Always. Been there for my dumbass, gotta return the favour." 

There was a long, quiet stare from the drunk Recom that Lyle couldn't figure out. 

Whatever it was passed, along with the Colonel. If not for his back rhythmically rising and falling, he could be mistaken for dead. 

Even drunk and broken, he looked beautiful, like a kintsugi vase. 

Chapter Text

Tired eyes struggle to open, the pressure causing an oppressive ache across his body. 

Quaritch felt like crap, more so than usual when he woke up. It was heavy with nausea, and dryness filled his mouth. He hated how awful he felt. Everything was terrible, and he didn't even remember what had caused it. 

He vaguely recalled feeling distressed and then nothingness, though random emotions floated around. 

It's all gross, icky and atrocious. 

"Morning."

Something moved. He didn't the part of him that launched itself at the noise. 

It took an annoyingly long time to register the word. Morning? How could it be morning? How did he get in his bed? 

Vision slowly returned. The room was dark to protect his sensitive eyes and ward off a worse headache. 

It also took many moments to understand he'd thrown a fist somewhere, and the owner of that voice was holding it. 

The smell identified him first, the mix of whiskey, oak and spring. It's almost disturbing how comforting that smell is. 

"You went through Scoresby's moonshine and got hammered," Lyle said, sounding concerned and weirdly thankful. "You were only sick a few times." 

When was the last time he drank enough to get sick? He couldn't recall. A lot of his head is foggy. 

"Hangover?"

Oh god, what did he do? Quaritch wasn't as tightlipped when loosened with alcohol. He always did or said something stupid. Seldom did he allow himself to get to the point of blackout, too. 

Thankfully, Lyle didn't look disgusted by the pathetic state of his CO. He seemed weirdly sympathetic, which confused him. 

"Yeah. Probably disorientated, confused and tried. Maybe a headache. A shower, change of clothes and sleep will sort it out." 

While that sounded nice, his abdomen demanded a sacrifice. 

"Food," he grumbled, wanting something disgusting, greasy and made by Mansk. "Want kebab." 

"I'll see what Mansk can do. Come on, big man. Shower and then food." 

"Food first."

"Not negotiating."

When Quaritch attempted to lift himself, his arms refused to obey their owner. Everything was particularly disobedient, even his flopping tail. The movement upset something in his stomach. 

Although he wanted to say something, all that came out was an irritated grumble muffled by his pillow. 

Is this his first hangover as a Recombinant? Maybe that's why it feels so different and somehow worse. Quaritch wanted to crawl into a hole and die there, so long as he didn't have to move or meet any lights. 

He didn't want to go anywhere that wasn't this uncomfortable and itchy bed. It's not big enough for him, the pillow is too little, and the covers only warmed his back and most of his ass. 

His mouth feels dry and gross. 

"Come on. Have a hot shower, get some food in you, clean clothes and a pair of Mansk's sunglasses will make you feel better." 

That did sound nice. 

His arms are still not cooperating. Everything felt sore and stiff. 

"The hell did I drink...?"

"Whatever it was, it'd kill a normal person," Lyle shrugged, trying to help the Colonel get up. "You stink of it."

Quaritch's tail lashed as Lyle brought his arm over his shoulders, his other hand around his waist. As much as he wanted to move more, any attempt made him feel nauseous. 

When Lyle brought him up, a wave of vertigo crashed into him like a train. He heaved, something trying to come up, but even that couldn't be bothered. His legs were like jello, shaking under his weight. 

They couldn't even stand up straight; the ceiling was too short.

"Gravity doesn't like me today."

"Don't think it likes anybody, sir." 

True. 

"Just get me in. I can stand."

"Don't think you can."

"Put me back."

"After you stop smelling like a corpse."

"Fucking feel like one."

It's weird knowing that he died. He saw and heard his death, but it didn't sink exactly. There wasn't a way to explain how confused he was, looking at his body, albeit tinier. 

He held his skull, seeing the thanator scar marks, conflicted. It was so tiny in his hand and didn't take much effort to crush. There was such a substantial dissonance from looking at himself. 

It'd be easier to comprehend if his head didn't feel like a cracked fish tank. 

Lyle manoeuvred him to the little shower, having to bend down as it was designed for a human. It was too small for them both, so Lyle let the tired man sit. He had already pulled his shirt off, though he struggled with his pants. His fingers didn't want to listen to him. 

For some reason, his righthand man seemed nervous about helping. Why? He won't see anything; their packages are on the inside. Even then, it's not like Lyle hasn't seen him naked before. They're marines; there's nothing they haven't seen. 

Did Lopez still have that tattoo on his dick? Something he'll have to ask eventually. 

"What's got you nervous?" Quaritch inquired, his ears perking slower than usual. It can't be the shower thing; that can't be it. "Did I say something?" he questioned, suspicious. 

The way that Lyle's ears pinned back answered plenty. 

Fuck, what did he say? 

"Not much."

"Don't lie to me."

"Alright, said a few things. Nothing I'll repeat. You're a tough son of a bitch; I'll say that much." 

He already knew that. 

No matter what, Quaritch kept going. Most of the time, he wasn't sure what made him continue; he was too stubborn, even for his sake. 

In this life, it's his son that's his primary motivation. Spider is everything to him. 

Although he was admittedly in denial about many things, Quaritch knew that when he got attached, he was serious about it. If anybody even hinted at hurting Spider, it's safe to say Quaritch would be hostile or dangerous to them; he'll kill for his son. 

Spider couldn't fathom how far he'll go for him, how it's not a question of what he would do but what he wouldn't. He's killed many people and will kill more to keep his baby safe. 

He wanted Spider to be safe from everything he experienced. He tried not to think about the mess that was his life, how it should've broken him more than it had. 

"Fuck," he growled, ears flattening and tail curling. "I ain't asking. How much?"

"You were in Operation Bloodstone." 

Bloodstone was a mess and a pain in the ass. Estonia was one hell of a wild west, abandoned for decades, and the people left to go feral. The children there were savage, their teeth chipped with stone into fangs that would chew you up like a piranha school. 

The nights were filled with weird shrieking thanks to the mutated animals; rabies was out of control, and paranoia was required to keep them alive. The water was all contaminated, and even the ground was hostile. 

Compared to the near year on that mission - thank hell the Gaia Liberation Front were incompetent idiots - Pandora was a walk on the beach. It certainly didn't feel like six years had passed when he arrived on this cursed moon. 

He fucking hated Rafael. 

"Yea, not something I'm happy about." 

He only got brought onto the mission because of Raf. 

"Before that, there was a bit of a tirade. About your father. Which is how you met General Holland." 

Oh. That. 

Why would he talk about that, even when drunk? There wasn't a point or anything to talk about. 

Because of his cowardice, Quaritch allowed his mom to die; she was the only adult that gave a shit. She deserved so much better than a useless kid. 

Thanks to him, Spider lost both of his parents, too. History repeating. 

"Hate them." 

"You're doing better than them, that's for sure."

"Barely."

"No. Far from "barely", sir."

"Sound pretty sure of that."

He didn't like the sad look on Lyle's face. It didn't fit the golden retriever boy of their ragtag team of rejects. 

"I was a father some time ago - I had a boy and two girls, a wife, my mama and five sisters. In a week, all of them were gone. I didn't plan on surviving after the crash, but a stubborn asshole kept me going; you're doing good." 

Quaritch was more annoyed that he survived than dying like everybody else. He was content to wait for the natives, but then he found Lyle; the marines don't leave anybody behind. He couldn't let that guy get eaten when he could do something about it.

That Thanator must've been stalking them since they crashed, waiting for an easy meal. It's an absolute miracle that they survived; how did he figure that shoving his hand into his chest holes would work? He punctured something, and it choked on its blood. 

None of it compared to the information he was processing, though. Lyle never liked to talk about his life before Pandora; he always figured that it was a painful history like the rest of the sad fuckers the RDA snatched up. 

Losing his sister and brother was painful, as was his mother. He was afraid of experiencing something Lyle already knew, outliving your child. The mere thought made him feel sick more than the hangover. 

"I'm sorry," was all he could say. No words can put a bandage over the weeping wound of loss. 

"We both have more than a few skeletons, sir. It's what makes us two damaged peas in a pod."

They are more alike than he thought. More than he liked, sadly. He didn't want anybody to be like Quaritch; the weight of past tragedies shouldn't be shared. 

He never wanted Spider to feel as alone as he did. He didn't want his son to be so vulnerable that a selfish asshole got to sink his claws in and manipulate him. 

Lyle left him to the shower, busy doing something else. Hot water did feel good, washing away the crap from the days before. 

Quaritch pondered, though not specifically on anything. There was so much going on, and he didn't know what to do. He felt lost, left adrift in a sea of events threatening to drown them all. 

What do they do? Because nothing ever went right if Quaritch got involved. He was a curse, a source of bad luck that hurt everybody close.

When everything burned away to ash and bone, Quaritch would stand alone, left to destroy whatever he touched. It was hard to know if the hangover influenced his increased pessimism. 

He sat there for a while, hot water rolling down his deep blue skin. There's a numb pressure on his chest in two places, exactly where he got shot by those arrows. It didn't hurt, merely lingering. 

Though it only felt like a blink, his eyes cracked open to see Lyle again, his hand lightly nudging his shoulder. 

"I think you're gonna have to stay in."

Instead of saying anything, only a grunt came from him. 

Though the shower made him feel better, his body felt stiff and rusty as Lyle helped him. Everything was determined to stop moving, much to his annoyance. 

He pushed through to get a shirt on, but his shoulders protested. Whatever he drank had to have come from under a sink somewhere. Alcohol doesn't do this to someone afterwards. 

Finally, his dumbass was back on the far too-small bed. He nearly passed out as soon as he lay down, his head swimming. 

Quaritch must never drink again. Ever. 

"Hurts."

"What does?"

"Everything. Fuck did I drink?"

"Scoresby's moonshine. I wouldn't be shocked if he invented a new fuel." 

He hates this. 

"If I go near a bottle again, hit me."

Did he change the sheets?

"That an order?" his friend joked, patting his aching back. 

"Yes." 

He'll order someone to cuff him to the rails to ensure he doesn't touch the shit again.

What the fuck was Scoresby made of if it screwed Quaritch up this badly? He's never been messed up like this.

"I'll call Ja to check on you. You might have alcohol poisoning."

"How much did I drink?"

"Maybe eight bottles."

"Eight!?"

That explains so, so much. Fuck, he's got alien alcohol poisoning. How did he do this to himself?

No wonder everything felt so sore and achy. He truly fucked himself. 

Quaritch wanted to curl up to die or go back in time and punch himself. How could he have done this to himself? Why?

What if Spider saw him like that? 

He's not in control of himself when only part conscious and could be aggressive. He punched Lyle in the face as soon as he re-entered life. Didn't he also hit Fike? Something like that.

Quaritch never wanted Spider to see him drinking or being violent. It screwed Quaritch up horribly; Spider deserved so much better. 

"You're doing it again."

"Doin' what?"

"You make a face when you're blaming yourself for something," Lyle said, stating it as though it was a fact. 

He didn't have a face! Did he? Did everybody see it?

His body froze, much to his annoyance. The shakes are mildly irritating. They happen more in his Recom body, but that's not important. They occasionally lasted longer, too. 

It's nothing, not even worth wasting thought on. Sometimes he didn't even realise it happened until much later. 

They used to be a lot worse when he was a kid. It took many years and Rafael's influence to suppress everything. He's going to have to start all over again. 

Quaritch was confused when he felt Lyle start rubbing his hand. It was rhythmic and deliberate, almost like a massage, in an attempt at something he couldn't figure out. 

While he should be angry with the contact, he could feel himself almost lean into it. It's like how he fell asleep next to the bald bastard; that hasn't happened for a long time. 

There's something almost soothing about it. He's unfamiliar with it, but he's done it with others. 

He looked after his family, cared for his soldiers and did what he could for Topaz and little Miles. There were days when Parker would give him shit for not looking after himself, though it didn't change anything. 

It confused him when Parker stated that Quaritch only knew how to handle combat and aggression; he couldn't process anything closely related to affection.

He suspected Paz might've said something, but he wasn't sure.

She always insisted that he let Spider play with Quaritch or sleep on him, but Quaritch couldn't. He was always anxious that he'd accidentally hurt the scamp. 

He couldn't live with himself if he hurt Spider. It was bad enough that he looked somewhat like Trevor; Quaritch didn't want to be like him. 

So much for that. He got himself blackout drunk like Trevor would. 

The rubbing on his hand moved upward, working through his forearm and bicep. Body staying frozen, Quaritch followed, confused by the warmth left behind. 

That sore feeling was washing away as well. It's weird and alien; this must be part of their body's new biology. 

He observed those hands move to his shoulder, kneading away the ache. He could feel his body relax at the repeated motion, only becoming nervous again when he couldn't see Lyle's hands. A vibrating rumble inside his chest grew, and he was too tired to suppress it. 

Lyle worked over his shoulder blades and the back of his neck. His right-hand operative pushed away the built-up aches and anxious worry inside him. He felt his back crack under his administration, causing another wave of soothing peace to roll over. 

Consciousness is disappearing. Weirdly, he's not worried about it. Although Quaritch should feel panicked by falling asleep near somebody, he didn't. It didn't make much sense, but his head was too heavy to bother.

There's a heavy scent in the air, too. Whatever it is, it's comforting. 

That rumbling is much louder; it's not a bad sound. It tickles his ears. 

Finally, everything faded away, although much warmer than before. 

Lyle was astounded. What the fuck did he do? 

He saw his CO have one of those episodes again. He didn't know what to do. Not thinking, Lyle started to help in the way he did with Jenny. Massaging her made her feel better and calmed her down. 

It was a long shot that it would help, but it did. Although Quaritch looked annoyed, he then accepted it and fell asleep.

The sounds that man generated, the soft grunts and deep purring, sparked something in him. He struggled to massage his strong back, feeling those powerful muscles in his arms; it was intoxicating. 

He looked so cute in that shower, having fallen asleep, his tail limply tapping under the water. 

How the water dripped on his beautiful face. How it rolled down that chiselled jaw onto his broad chest...

Finally, removing that disgusting moonshine stench was liberating, and he drowned in Miles' natural musk. He soaked it like a sponge, feeling it permeate the enclosed room, tasting it. 

How many times has he fallen asleep around Lyle now? Five times? It was astounding because he was sure that Miles wouldn't do this around anybody else. What did that mean?

It was criminal how beautiful he was. It even angered him that somebody hurt Quaritch, and he couldn't kick those people's ass. 

The image of his chest came again, how clean and unmarked it was. 

Why did he watch that damn video? Seeing his best friend die was horrible. He tried not to think about it, but it was hard to ignore it now. 

It made him angry, too. That crazy bitch of Sully killed his best friend; the gasp of death disturbed him. 

Quaritch had done so much for them, been there for them. He kept a lot of them going, keeping them alive and safe. He was more than their boss; it's closer to how the na'vi look at their chiefs. 

Knowing how much he was hurting made Lyle feel helpless. 

Hopefully, Quaritch didn't notice Lyle's smell. Listening and feeling him sent electricity to his nether regions, creating a needy ache that wouldn't go away. 

Those sounds echoed through his ears, drilling into his brain and straight to his groin. Seeing those beautiful eyes close with such trust and security sent bolts throughout his body.

Gods above, feeling that smooth skin and those powerful muscles beneath, counting the map of stars across that strong back beneath that shirt, it was incredible. 

He didn't want to feel so horny with the Colonel. Everything was hyper-fixated on his CO. He's messed around with the others, but he was always thinking about that gorgeous man, how a fang always poked over his lips when he smiled. 

The man growled to himself as he reached his hand down, feeling guilty over the source of annoyance. 

Lyle wanted to avoid joining the list of people who hurt Quaritch. He didn't know how he'd react, knowing that Lyle's body was so magnetised by him. 

He imagined him laying in Lyle's lap again, those cute cropped ears flicking, a glowing golden eye turning to him. How good he looked jumping onto Cupcake, that strong tail whipping the air, that proud grin at succeeding in taming a banshee. The way that Quaritch looked excited to see Spider, how he always bent down for the teen and when he'd work out. 

It was like a drug, and there wasn't any rehab available. 

How could one man do so much to him? It's not only his body that does this. It's just him. 

Lyle bit his lip, his grip tightening, imagining his hand belonging to another. It made his legs quiver, the leftover smell from his CO tingling his nose. It was potent, swirling through his body, tickling his nerves. 

It didn't take much to send him over that edge, finally getting rid of that annoying urge. 

Although the urge was gone, the confusing feelings remained. 

To experience so much but keep going, staying strong and breaking a vicious cycle was so respectable. The recent vulnerability only grew his respect for the man.

Lyle doesn't just want to fight next to Quaritch; he wants to make him feel safe. 

Spider was bored. Lyle and Miles were still gone, so he had to bother somebody else. 

As he wandered around, a CetOps worker smirked at the teenager. He was confused since he didn't know this person; why were they smirking?

"You're all alone," the worker said, the smirk changing. "And your daddy isn't here to protect you."

Daddy? Was he talking about Miles?

The word caused an ache inside of Spider, but not a painful one. The bead that Miles gave him seemed to grow in weight. 

What did they mean? Why wasn't Miles here? Where was he?

No, one of the guys would've told him that Miles was gone. He was probably flying; Miles loved being in the air. 

"What do you care?" Spider stated, something telling him to be on alert.

Something about how the man was looking at him made him feel threatened. 

The stranger suddenly backed down, quickly looking away from Spider and walking the opposite way. 

Spider turned around, seeing Noah and Bruno, their ears pinned back and scowl on their faces. 

"¿Qué chingados?" Lopez growled, quickly looking to Prager. "Pinche pendejo." 

"You ok?" Noah asked, his tail lightly brushing Spider's arm. 

"Yeah. What was he talking about?"

"Looked like the fucker wanted to take you for a walk without a mask, Changuito," Bruno answered, the implication disturbing the teen. 

The pair stayed by Spider's side, guiding him back to the cafeteria. Most humans avoided it as the Recoms liked to hang out in there. 

Lopez kept his hand close to Spider's back, ensuring he was alright. 

Why did that guy want to hurt Spider? Spider hadn't done anything to them. He avoided the humans as best as possible. 

He didn't know how to be around humans. They didn't make him feel comfortable like the Recoms did. 

"Where's Miles?" Spider asked, worried that something had happened to him. He liked Miles. 

"Got drunk last night. He's probably got one mean hangover," Noah answered, shaking his head. "Lyle said he's watching him."

"Really? Lyle's peinabombillas." 

Prager snorted, hitting Lopez's shoulder. 

Although Spider didn't know the language, he understood that it meant idiot somehow. He nudged Prager, wanting him to elaborate on why that meant Lyle was an idiot. 

He's seen drunk people before. Lo'ak messed with some of Jake's alcohol once, and he threw up everywhere; Max called him a blue volcano. 

Miles being woozy and sick everywhere would be more scary than funny. He meant a lot to Spider. 

"The Colonel has this thing about him. We call it Sleep Fighting," Prager said, getting a nervous look from Bruno. "If something disturbs him while asleep, Quaritch acts instinctively, attacking and fighting before he wakes up. It sucks for everyone, and he feels bad afterwards."

"Yeah, after they pulled him from the tube, he kicked Fike and Lyle's asses. It took Fike, Zhang and Z-Dog to pin him down before the boss woke up. Lyle's nose was broken." 

"If you ever need to get the Cyrnol and he's asleep, get one of us, iawn? It's a bruise for us, but you? It's shattered bones. The Colonel would sooner die than hurt you, Pry Copyn." 

Spider nodded, taking their words to heart.

Interestingly, humans have so many languages. At most, na'vi have minor variances. Lopez and Prager speak two separate languages that don't sound like each other. Mansk said it was Welsh and Spanish. 

Ja's Spanish sounded different to Bruno's, though. 

What was the language between Jade and Miles? It wasn't Romanian; he's heard Jade yell at Ja in Romanian. 

There are so many. Is this why they struggle to learn Na'vi? They already know several languages. 

"Yeah, I'll get one of you first," Spider nodded, understanding their concern. "Do you know why? Why Miles sleep fights."

"Nobody does, Changuito, and it's probably best that you don't ask," Bruno answered, earning a nod from Noah. "I'm not a betting man, but I'd put my mama's rosary on it being from something traumatic."

"All of us have quirks and stuff because of our pasts. The RDA go for people with trauma on purpose," Prager continued, tail curling. "They pick us out like starved Stingbats. All you need to know is that the boss loves you - I would've killed to have had a dad like that."

"You had a bad father?"

"Yeah. A real piece of shit," Noah nodded, visibly distressed by it. "I'll tell you all about it some other time. Let's get some food in you first, though."

Although Spider didn't like the humans, he felt slightly different about them. The evil RDA picked and took lost humans to use like tools. Did anybody work for them willingly?

He didn't like the guy that threatened him, but what about guys like Ian? He's nice. 

Lopez mumbled something in Spanish, getting a quick reply in Welsh. It irritated Spider that he was left in the dark. Did they feel like this when he spoke na'vi? 

Questions aside, he wanted to see Miles and know he was ok. 

Chapter Text

Thank hell, it's finally over. 

That quick massage worked out many kinks, loosening many aches he wasn't aware he had. He'll have to ask for another round at some point. 

He'd lie down and not get up if he had the choice. It felt good. Since when could Lyle do that?

"Back from the dead, big man," Ja sniggered, tossing something to the Recom.

He caught the wrapped package, finding a human-sized burger. It wouldn't be more than a bite for him, but it's still food.

"You got fucked, sir," Mansk continued, straight-faced, but Quaritch could hear a smirk. 

That he did. 

"Y'all have permission to kick my ass if I ever go near that crap again," he stated, knowing they'll happily oblige. 

"Da domnule," Z-Dog grinned, throwing her fist in the air. 

Curiously, Lopez nudged Prager, making him get up. The others noticed, ears perked and tails slowing. It's unusual for Prager to look so uncomfortable and for Lopez to be quiet; the Mexican gremlin is the loudest of the team. 

While shoving the bit of food in his mouth, Prager took him outside of the cafeteria. It's becoming increasingly concerning. 

"While you were out, sir, there was an issue," Prager started, ears flicking back. "I'm saying this privately because Z-Dog will go nuts, and Mansk always follows after her. Especially now."

They're fucking. He's oblivious to many relationship things but always knows when his soldiers are doing the horizontal tango. 

Since re-meeting the two, he almost knew they were going at it. Mansk has always loved her, plus the little ginger doctor. Now that she got a new roll on the sexuality dice, Eddie had a shot with her. 

"What's the situation?" Quaritch asked, tail curling as his ears raised. 

"One of the crew threatened Spider."

It took more moments than it should have to process those words. Somebody threatened his baby. 

He will find that person and divorce their hands from their wrists. They will taste the back of his foot after shoving it up their useless ass. 

That's on the agenda for today. Remove the threat to his baby. 

How many other times did somebody threaten Spider? He knows that the poor kid was severely neglected, but there's so much he's yet to learn. 

For years, his son was without anybody that gave a damn. He knew how that felt all too well. After his mother died, Quaritch didn't have anyone; he had to look after others, even his older brother. Thankfully, it didn't appear like Spider was made to look after anyone; he hoped not. 

Being a kid is about behaving like an idiot and making mistakes to learn from. 

He couldn't be there for Spider for over a decade, but that's changed. He'd sooner die than abandon his child. 

That kid has been the centre of his universe since Quaritch discovered he'd be a father. It was terrifying and still is, but that doesn't change how imperative Spider is.

His mental and physical health is significant to Quaritch; keeping the kid safe and happy is a top priority. It mattered more to him than the stupid rank games Ardmore wanted to play. 

"You got a name?"

"Not positive yet. We're narrowing it down," Prager answered, tail flicking behind him. "A mighty shame, sir. We did warn them that the banshees are temperamental."

"Indeed," Quaritch agreed, patting Prager's shoulder. "And Shredder and Firefly were doing so well at not biting at anybody." 

It'll be easy to tell the banshees who to eat.

He's getting the hang of communicating with them. As Spider is a part of their flock, a threat to his life is personal against them, too. They're very prideful and honourable, a culture rooted in respect and a warrior-like lust for camaraderie. 

It's baffling how little the RDA understood banshees. If they took a moment to understand them, they'd realise that the banshees are much more dangerous than the Na'vi. 

A banshee avatar would also be cool as fuck. 

"Where's he now?" Quaritch asked, ears twitching. 

"Ja took him outside. Doc Garvin said there's an Ilu pod or something around here, and he wanted to watch," Prager said, nodding upwards. "The Doc also said we'll arrive at a marine lab in roughly four hours. Seemed nervous. Why're we stopping there?"

"That'd spoil the surprise," the Colonel smirked, intriguing the other Recom. "Thanks for telling me. About the soon-to-be departed."

"No problem, sir. Spider's our nephew; we'll kill for that kid."

Marines are all brothers, sisters and in between. It's a dynamic that he was always fond of as what remained of his family fell apart. Ellie died, Nathan left, and Scarlett ran away somewhere; somehow, Little Bug arrived on this forsaken moon. 

Spider knows of her and that she has kids. He wants Spider to connect to his human side, although he no longer knows Scarlett, not anymore. She'll never be the same little brat that would bite his leg if he didn't read her a story. Or have a total bitch fit because carrots were in her food; she had a disgusting obsession with mushrooms, too. 

That little girl disappeared the same day Eleanor died. A part of him and Nate vanished, too. 

Did she know what he was? That he died and came back blue, big and weirdly buff. The sheer muscle on his new body was confusing to wake up with; it's not like his body worked out while comatose. 

Would she hate him for what he became? Would she blame him as Nathan did?

He's why she never got to meet their mother. If he wasn't a coward, things could've been different. Daisy could've survived, and he'd never be under Rafael's thumb. 

But then he'd have never met Topaz, meaning Spider wouldn't have been born. He loved the kid so much that it hurt. 

She was a tough bitch, that woman. No matter how anxious he was around Spider, she wasn't having any of it. There's no fury like that of an adamant Colombian woman. 

Topaz Camilla Socorro was a brilliant pilot and a very ambitious woman. She wanted his dumbass for some reason, and she got it. 

All the women in his life were like that. He only messed around with people that went after him; he seldom chased somebody. 

The Colonel made his way outside, ears up and alert. He could hear Ja yelling in Spanish, though thankfully not with worry or anger; he sounded excited. 

On the whaling deck was his son with Ja, watching several creatures pounce from the water only to dive again. Those must be the Ilu creatures. 

Quaritch hopped over the railing, climbing down to the deck. His ears flinched at Cupcake's chirps, watching as she nipped at Firefly and Quicksilver for arguing.

That flock are an odd group. As much as they can get on his nerves, they're like his teammates; they're annoying but reliable. 

A new sound caught his attention, a hiss mixed with a roar. When Quaritch looked to the source, he saw Sushi jump out of the water. 

That asshole had been following them the entire time!?

That damn oversized fish is the embodiment of a douchebag. What he lacked in eyesight, he made up for with snark. 

A snark shark. 

"Looking good, sir," Ja grinned, waving to him. "Pretty cool, right?"

"These must be the Ilu," Quaritch said, watching the creatures. "They're weird looking." 

"Ian said that they're like Earth dolphins," Spider added, eagerly watching them. "What're dolphins? Are they like sharks?"

"Sharks were large fish. Dolphins were water mammals. I think."

"Nah, you're right. Sharks were terrified of a specific kind of dolphin called an orca; they were huge and black and white." 

"Bullshit."

"I'm serious!" Ja exclaimed, his tail waving comically. "Sharks were so scared of these big dolphins that they'd avoid an entire area for a year."

"Ian also said that there are Pandoran sharks. Does that mean there's a big Ilu that frightens them?" Spider inquired, fascinated. "An Orc-Ilu?"

"Probably," Quaritch shrugged. "Can I have a minute?" he asked, getting a nod from his comrade. 

Spider watched Ja back off, confused for a moment. He seemed annoyed that Quaritch interrupted his time with Ja, causing a pang of guilt. 

He didn't want to upset his kid, but they needed to talk. 

"Heard there was an issue yesterday. You good?" The Colonel asked, tail flicking behind him. "If you're worried you're in trouble, you're not," he added, lowering himself to appear less intimidating. 

"He said I was all alone, and you weren't there to protect me." 

"You'll never be alone, kiddo. And I'm sorry that I couldn't be there." 

"Yeah, Prager said you got drunk. And that you sleep fight."

His boy didn't understand. 

Quaritch was a damaged person with a broken history. He ruined everything and everyone that got too close. Even in his sleep, he hurt others. 

It was better if his son understood Quaritch's shortcomings and failures so he didn't repeat them. If he could teach Spider how to be better than him and not repeat his failings, then he's broken the cycle. A long line of horrible fathers finally stops with this boy. 

Even though Lyle said he was doing good, it was difficult to accept that. How could he do any better than his sperm donor and guardian? 

If only Paz were still here. 

"It was a stupid mistake to drink in the first place."

His baby was in danger while he was incapacitated. He can't allow that again. 

"They did tell me about how you beat up Lyle, then someone called Fike, and it took three of them to pin you down. That was the sleep fighting. Why?"

It's still sad that Sean's gone. Again. 

He motioned for Spider to sit down, ears lowering and tail hitting the deck. 

"My sister Eleanor got sick for a little while. Nate and I joined to help her, taking shifts. During Nathan's turn, he had to leave, but I didn't wake up. Her illness went bad, and she passed away soon after." 

That was the pleasant way of putting it. 

"No."

No?

"What do you mean no?" Quaritch questioned, feeling his tail curl behind him. 

"You don't instinctively attack people because someone was sick. You're dumbing it down. I'm not a kid."

He is, though. While Spider was sixteen, Quaritch recognised early on that his son was further behind than his chronological age. His behaviour and mentality were closer to that of twelve or ten. 

Quaritch didn't hold that against him. His son was mistreated, and there are consequences for that. 

While he was ticked off, he also took note of how his son sounded. It didn't mean to come off as insulting; Spider wanted to know about Quaritch and why he was unsafe when unconscious. 

It won't be easy, though.

Quaritch never talked about it. How could he when he was responsible?

"Alright. Ellie had a drug problem like most people on Earth; it was her only escape from her life, but it was destroying her," Quaritch sighed, hearing himself go monotone. "Nathan and I tried to help her stop. One of us was meant to always be awake for her. But I didn't wake up when Nathan had to go briefly. She was in withdrawals and couldn't think straight."

"Withdrawals?"

"When you take a substance, usually drugs or alcohol, your brain can get hooked on it and become dependent, needing it as much as food or water. That's addiction. When you go without that substance for a while, your brain panics; it's like your brain fools itself into believing that it's starving or dehydrating. This can cause people to act abnormally."

Had nobody told Spider about this? It was well-known among humans. If you weren't addicted, you knew somebody that was. In the old days, there was a lot of stigma towards people with addiction struggles.

As Earth died, the negative connotation towards it dissolved into sympathy and empathy.

Many people didn't have any other way to escape their miserable lives. 

"Did she hurt you?" Spider asked, starting to follow what he hinted at.

"For a few moments, Ellie saw our father. She got scared and panicked; I never blamed her for that. She broke a vase and stabbed me in the abdomen. That's what started it; my volatile reaction when I'm disturbed." 

It wasn't her fault. He never blamed her. She wasn't in control of herself; it wasn't his Ellie that hurt him. 

"I'm sorry," Spider said, looking sympathetic. "Can I ask how she passed away?" 

"Guilt," Quaritch answered. "Ellie was so upset that she hurt me that she stabbed herself in the neck. I still remember my hands around her throat, feeling her blood go cold and coagulate. It was like watching my mama go all over again. She was only twenty-one." 

Watching her shake in his hands, trying to apologise but choking on her blood. She was so scared, his baby girl. 

The wound in his gut couldn't compare to the light and colour disappearing from her bright green eyes. He wouldn't hear her whine about a girlfriend or how annoying her college was anymore. Even if it was a complaint, he always listened to her.

He heard her woes and fears. He patted her back after her first breakup and sat with her during her first hangover. He went into debt by getting her to a clinic after overdosing twice. 

"How old were you?"

"Twenty-six. Thirteen years later, I signed up for the RDA and left for Pandora. I didn't choose, exactly. It was that or be executed." 

Every thirteen years, Quaritch was irreparably ruined by something. 

His son jumped to his feet, visibly angry and upset. He was confused by the change, his ears picking up mumbles in Na'vi. He's not good at it, but he knew the expletives. 

Spider sounded a lot like his mother when he swore. 

"What do you mean executed!?" his son yelled.

"Earth was too overpopulated for prisons unless you were rich or had friends in high places. I had neither. Pandora seemed a prettier place to die than some ditch out back."

It was pretty. Although Pandora is a pain in his now blue ass, it's beautiful. 

Ellie would've loved it. 

"What did you even do?"

"I had a choice. I let thousands die a horrific death, or I kill the manipulative son of a bitch that left me for dead. Seemed easy."

It's closer to hundreds of thousands, but that was long ago. 

"But you did a good thing. You saved people."

"There's a saying on Earth - no good deed goes unpunished. The problem was that he was a general, Spider; that's like you killing your Olo'eyktan. I was scheduled for execution, and the RDA offered me a ticket here," he elaborated, observing his son as he began pacing. "Considering that it led me to you, I'd do it all over again."

He watched his boy pause, then slowly sit in front of the larger Recom. It was hard to dissect what was in his son's eyes, ears perking upwards at the possibilities. 

Seeing his son comfortable around him was a gift he'd cherish. 

"It's weird. You guys being all family-like with me."

"Yeah, I can see how it's hard. But we'll always be here. If anything happens to my dumbass, you'll always have the team will be there for you. They've cared about you since we learned Paz was pregnant." 

Spider wasn't the first kid born on Pandora. If you have people cooped up together, things will happen. It was usually between the civilians, engineers or miners, however. The scientists were too busy shoving beakers up their asses, and the soldiers were busy not dying. 

For members of the security division, one of them starting a family was huge news. The fact that it was Quaritch, of all people, that was suddenly a daddy was even more exciting for everybody that wasn't him. He was terrified, and Augustine didn't help by laughing herself into a choking fit. 

The pilots and soldiers were ecstatic for Paz, doting on her and making her feel like a princess, everything she didn't want. No matter what, all Paz wanted was to fly, which he forbade. It was a risk to her health and safety. It wasn't even the fact it was their baby; Quaritch didn't let any pregnant people fly anywhere. 

He was in denial about it for a while, trying to pretend he didn't majorly fuck up. He couldn't avoid it when Spider was born, though. 

On the 16th of November at thirteen-hundred, Miles Antonio Ezekiel Socorro was born. He weighed seven pounds and six ounces and had a blanket with a little duck on the top left corner. The babe came out squealing with mighty lungs and had a small tuft of hair atop his head. 

He never answered Paz's inquiry why he didn't want Spider to have his "surname". It didn't matter. All he wanted to focus on was the bundle they somehow created. 

"What was she like? Mom?"

"Stubborn, determined, ambitious and proud. She could fly a Samson with her eyes shut and drink Mansk under the table. She had a very frustrating poker face, too. And though I didn't understand, she liked talking about Star Trek, Transformers and other stuff." 

She liked many things he didn't know about, but it made her happy to "info-dump", as Lyle called it. 

"Do I look like her?"

"You have a few things from my mother, but you get most things from Paz, except when you're pissed off. You get that scowl from me." 

"Gross."

"Ain't you just cheeky today? You get that from your mama too." 

"No, I think that's also yours. You're very sarcastic when you want to be."

"I'm chuffed."

He certainly could be. It's part of being from the Southern states. Lyle's from Florida, Quaritch came from new Louisiana, and Mansk was from Texas - the trifecta of rednecks.  

Or, better yet, blue necks. 

"What else was she like?"

"She was autistic, so she was as blunt as a cannonball, which I respected."

"What's that?"

"It's a disability; the brain is wired and processes information differently. Things like social cues and all of that nonsense are tougher to navigate. It's a vast spectrum of different things; I've worked with several autistic soldiers. No two are the same." 

Paz would almost vomit if she saw or smelled anything related to roses. He didn't understand, and that was fine. He didn't need to comprehend why certain fabrics made her itch raw or why particular foods belonged in an incinerator. That wasn't any of his dang business. 

It was only an issue if it impacted her ability to work safely and be safe. Other than that, it didn't matter. 

He was still strict with his soldiers, but certain situations required a careful touch. Not everybody could perform similar actions, so measures were needed so that they could pull equal weight. Everyone does their part, even if it isn't the same. 

That attitude kept the security division running constantly and securely. It was a well-oiled machine with various parts operating in equal harmony. 

Quaritch would take one thousand Paz over ten of Scott Hans any day. The guy was a decent mechanic, but he was so obnoxious about it. 

"Did she get hit on the head?"

"Nah, it's something you're born with; it can even be genetic." 

"So, I could have it?"

"Maybe. If not, you could pass it on. It ain't that much of a big deal either way." 

"I wish I could've met her."

"So do I, kiddo. She'd be mighty proud of you; I know that for certain." 

Knowing their baby was alive would make Paz grin and do the funny thing with her fingers. 

In a way, Quaritch was glad that she wasn't here. She didn't have to see their son hurting and alone, disgustingly neglected. He was strong-willed, and it was great to see. 

Quaritch didn't care that Spider was so tall and buff; those were insignificant to how deeply the boy cared for others. He had a wonderful heart. 

"Y'know, Spider," Quaritch started, gently lifting one of Spider's tangled and matted locks. "I did my sisters' hair a lot. I could clean this up and plat it for you." 

"What's a plat?"

"It's a hairstyle that'll mimic having a queue," he answered, pleased at the spark of excitement in his son's eyes. "Want me to give it a go?"

"Yeah!"

"Alright. Should be something to do before we get there."

"Get where?"

"We're meeting Scarlett, your auntie. That should be fun."

His son was already climbing up the ship like it was a tree, excited to get his hair redone. 

Did nobody suggest it to him before? Who taught Spider how to look after his hair? Did anybody?

Did no one take a moment to teach Spider anything about his body? 

Quaritch will have to change that. 

It took forever. Almost two hours, even. 

Spider never did anything with his hair. He didn't know you were meant to brush it or put products in it. He's always had messy and matted hair; it was normal for him.

There's so much that he didn't know about his body. 

Most interestingly, Miles explained why it was healthier for Spider to wear pants. He didn't have to wear a shirt if he didn't want to, but a loincloth, or how he wore it, wasn't good for his body. 

Although Miles was awkward about it, he elaborated how na'vi "parts" are internal while Spider's is external.

His physiology is different, meaning he needed something better suited to a human body. No one took the time to explain to him before. And Miles helped cut some cargo pants so that they were like shorts; Spider liked how the air felt on his legs. 

The teenager looked at himself in the mirror, pulling the braid over his shoulder. Although weird to see himself without the locks, he liked the braid. It made him feel more like Kiri. 

"Looking good, Changuito," Lopez complimented, flicking the end of his new braid.

"Like a little Viking," Mansk added, tail twitching upwards. "We'll have to get you a little axe."

That'll be cool. Spider wanted an axe. 

"You're not getting an axe," Miles stated firmly. 

What?

"Why? I want an axe!" Spider complained. "Why can't I have one?"

"Because you shouldn't have to need one." 

That didn't compute for Spider. 

Everybody had a weapon with the Omaticaya. They used bows and arrows, knives and axes often. They had spears and bludgeoning weapons. Spider knew how to use them. 

No one let Spider handle a gun, so he had no experience with those. 

Seeming to notice Spider's confusion, Miles lightly touched his shoulder, looking concerned. 

"You're a child, Spider; you're not a soldier or a warrior. You've seen enough as is," Miles said softly, the fact he was much taller than Spider becoming an afterthought. He spoke to Spider like an equal. "Leave the violence to us because you deserve better. You deserve to live without needing something like an axe." 

Bruno started talking in Spanish, speaking fast and gesturing with his hands. Next to him, Ed was nodding along, agreeing with the shortest of the Recoms. 

Although Miles seemed annoyed by whatever Lopez was saying, he listened. 

Tail lashing, Miles unclipped his knife from his belt, swivelling it to grip the sheath. He held it to Spider expectantly, waiting for him. 

Cautiously taking the larger knife, Spider looked at the man, his words still ringing.

Spider shouldn't have to need a weapon because he deserved better. That's not a sentiment he had heard from somebody before.

If that was what Miles believed, why give him a knife?

"That is only to be used in self-defence. I don't want you running into a fight, alright?" Miles said firmly, his ears twitching. He momentarily glared at Lopez while the man merely shrugged. "I trust you know what you're doing with it, and I feel sorry for any fucker on the other end of it. But only self-defence. Got it?" 

Miles trusted Spider with his knife. His. 

Instead of making Spider feel weak or helpless, Miles empowered Spider. He did know how to use a knife. And it was great seeing how much Miles was concerned for Spider's safety.

Although he wanted to fight, prove his worth, and show that he could contribute, this was fine. 

The idea that Spider deserved a life where this wasn't necessary was foreign but sweet. 

"Got it," Spider nodded, a grin on his face. "An axe would be cool, though."

"Obviously," he agreed, getting a snort from Mansk. "You can make one for yourself, bowl-cut bastard." 

Bruno started laughing at Ed, causing Mansk's ears to lower. Whatever a bowl cut was, it embarrassed the heavy-duty machine-gun user. 

"That was one time," Mansk hissed, though it only made Miles roll his eyes. "Holly promised she knew hair!"

"Yeah, and Lopez thinks he can sing."

"Que te jodan, Colonel."

"You wish, Tragaleche." 

It was Ed's turn to chuckle at Lopez's expense. 

Spider needs to learn Spanish. The insults are colourful, and Lopez's nickname for him is funny. What does Changuito mean, anyway?

Ja ran past them, yelling that they'd arrived. He could've messaged them, but that worked as well. 

Attaching the knife to Spider's pants, he walked quickly with the trio. They didn't let him fall behind, using their tails to keep him by their side. 

It was great to feel so included with them. It's been so long since any adult took the time to care about Spider that the Recoms shocked him. 

They want to include Spider in everything, and he loved it!

He stuck close to Miles, constantly looking up at him. Spider couldn't forget that Miles told him; about the hardships he's gone through but stayed standing tall. 

Miles essentially raised Ellie and Scarlett since Trevor was horrid, their mom was dead, and that Rafael guy was an asshole. That meant he didn't just lose a sister when Ellie died; he lost a daughter figure. 

Spider couldn't fathom that situation. The image in his head was of Kiri, his closest friend, on the forest floor, gasping for air, fear in her golden eyes. Spider, bleeding from the gut, trying to stop the red from spilling between his fingers. He would feel her blood go cold and the life draining from her. 

He'd never recover if he endured that. How was Miles still going? 

It explained his deep-rooted fear of Spider getting hurt. He's already seen his family injured before. 

The teenager mulled over how Miles phrased it; it sounded like he blamed himself for Ellie's death. What was he meant to do? She was sick, and from what he knew of Earth, there wasn't anything available in terms of help. 

That wasn't his fault. And Spider getting hurt at that village wasn't his fault, either. 

He fit his mask on, ready to meet his new relative. He wondered how Miles felt since he presumed Scarlett died a while ago. 

Once they reached outside, Spider saw a giant tropical island with a jungle and an RDA building built into a miniature mountain. There were smaller floating mountains, reminding Spider of Home Base with the Omaticaya. It had a beautiful-looking lagoon inside the island. 

There was a barrier around the island with gates, isolating it from the rest of the sea. What was that for?

After the rest of the squad finally joined them, they could go. The banshees were eager and ready, lowering themselves for their riders. 

"You see the Doc?" Lyle smirked as he got onto Whiskey's back. "He looked like he saw a ghost, and Scoresby's laughing at him."

"You mean more than usual?" Jade snarked, patting Quicksilver's neck as he took off. 

What would Ian feel worried about? He worked with Scarlett. Maybe he was anxious that Miles would be super protective of her.

He could ask later. 

Cupcake pressed her head against Spider, rubbing her scent on him. She croaked, eagerly awaiting a scratch on her chin. Unable to deny her, Spider obliged, scraping his fingernails against her under scales. 

Miles' tail gently grazed Spider's back, silently requesting him to get ready. 

Spider clambered onto Cupcake's neck, feeling her powerful muscles beneath him. Her scales didn't scratch against his thighs; the pants protected against an irritation he wasn't aware of. 

He leaned back into Miles, feeling his back hit Miles' abdomen. Though he wasn't comfortable with it before, Spider knew Miles better; he respected him. And Miles could tell him more about his mother. 

When Cupcake took to the air, Spider looked back at his guardian. 

"What if she doesn't like me?" Spider asked, earning a confused look from Miles. "Because I'm not what humans are meant to be." 

"You're you, and that's all you need to be. If she doesn't like that, then tough." 

"I don't get it." 

"It's simple. Who you are is already enough. If somebody wants you to prove yourself to them, they likely aren't even worth the time." 

Spider is enough. He doesn't have to try and be someone else. 

He didn't have to prove his worth. 

These are the opposite of what Spider's learned throughout his life. However, he didn't have anybody that took the time to teach him, either. All he had was Kiri, Lo'ak and Tuk. 

He's got Deja Blu now, though. He has the Recoms to tell him how much he matters. They cared about Spider; they all wanted the best for him. 

It's startling how different Miles is from Jake. He believed that Jake was the best father ever, even though he didn't have comparisons before now. 

Miles would do anything to keep Spider away from an active battlefield, and Jake brought Neteyam and Lo'ak to raids.

Miles didn't even want Spider to have a weapon. Meanwhile, Neteyam and Lo'ak were taught to use guns; they were trained to take life, something Miles desperately wanted Spider to avoid. It's not that they were too weak to fight, but that they shouldn't have to and deserved better. 

Spider deserved better. 

The comforting way Miles spoke to him was in contrast to Jake, especially when the war restarted. 

Jake was hyperfocused on being a soldier, fighting the RDA and training everybody to fight. Everyone had to learn about guns and other weapons. Many na'vi died in the raids and missions, particularly during the early battles. The Omaticaya was almost halved in the first few months. 

It was hard for Neteyam and even more so for Lo'ak, always desperate for Jake to acknowledge him and his efforts. For a while, Spider was envious of that. 

And here Miles was, freely giving what Lo'ak fought tooth and nail for. What was there to be envious of? 

While Miles threatened the others, Spider didn't believe he'd harm them, not after knowing the man personally. He'd only hurt them if ordered to. As Ardmore was a nasty person, that was, unfortunately, likely. It wouldn't have been a decision made alone, however. 

After spending months with this man, Spider was comfortable with him. 

Was there anything to be jealous of? It's not like anybody cared for Spider the way these guys did. 

"Got a lot on your mind?" Miles inquired, clicking to Cupcake to slow down. "Seem occupied." 

"If we did have to fight, would you give me a gun?"

"Hell no," Miles answered, ears back adamantly. "I was fourteen when I joined the marines, far too young for something like that. I was a child soldier, and I won't let you bear the consequences of what that does to you mentally." 

A child soldier. He knew that Jake had mentioned something about that once, but he didn't understand. 

It confused Spider since that was Lo'ak's age. Fourteen. What sort of scars did it leave? 

Since Miles was fifty-one when he died, that's thirty-seven years of war. There's so much that could've happened in those battles, including the events that led to him going to Pandora. 

"My friend, the boy I was with, Lo'ak. He's fourteen. Jake took him on raids."

It scared Spider how horrified Miles looked by that. 

"Sully knows better," Miles growled, a spark of anger and hate flaring in his voice. While Spider usually felt defensive, he was conflicted because Miles knew Lo'ak's potential future. "That ain't acceptable, Spider."

"Leave it to the soldiers."

"That's right. We fight so you don't have to. That's our job, our duty, our creed - Semper Fi. Always Faithful. That's the way of the Marines." 

Spider remained quiet, mulling over those proud words as Cupcake landed. Her claws dug into the warm sands, the rippling hush of a coming tide soothing his ears. 

They were the last to land; Firefly was already finding a spot to sunbathe. Shredder, Whiskey and Zelda found some poor critters to chase, looking like buffoons. Gwyllgi and Cupcake were content to nestle in the sand and observe the stupidity. 

It was warm and peaceful and looked beautiful. He'd never get used to how the sand felt on his feet. 

"Oorah!" Lyle grinned, happy to see that Miles finally joined them.

There was a difference in how he looked at Miles; Spider couldn't place it. 

While the entire team was devoted to following Miles, there was something different with Lyle. The Lieutenant seemed particularly attached to Miles, occasionally moving in unison with him. It made him think of Neytiri and Jake. 

"Man, if I could, I'd vacation here," Jade smiled, her tattoos practically glowing in the sunlight. Mansk couldn't look away, captivated by Z-Dog. 

The waters changed, sounding abnormal, causing Spider to turn around. He stared, watching as a young girl walked from the lagoon, tanned and not wearing a mask.

She had coiled brown hair and deep brown eyes, feint swirling patterns dancing across her skin. Her eyes were large and wide, taking in everything she saw. She had scarring around her neck and bare chest, signs of surgery. He was most intrigued by her swirling tattoos; they looked like sea na'vi markings. 

Her presence got noticed by the Recoms. They could only stare as she waved her hands, not understanding what she was trying to do. 

"Delta!" yelled a bulky man in a lab coat. He left the entrance to the RDA building, waving a mask towards the girl. "What have I said about leaving without this?" he admonished, though not harshly. 

Delta looked annoyed but heeded the man, placing it over her face. She moved her hands again, motioning to the Recoms. 

"Sup," Spider said, unable to look away from the odd girl.

Although Spider had been around human kids before, none seemed as feral as him. 

For some reason, Ja and Bruno snickered at each other. 

"Ah, Doctor Garvin mentioned you'd be coming," the man smiled, patting Delta's back. "Don't mind Delta. She's always been one for the sea. My name is Doctor Tyson Stone."

Spider wanted to meet his aunt, but watching Delta's fascination with the Ikran was captivating. Had she never seen one before?

"I'm Prager. That's Z-Dog, Wainfleet, Lopez, Ja and Mansk. This is the Colonel, Quaritch. He's an ugly son of a bitch, but even uglier in a fight," Noah grinned, getting an elbow from his superior. 

Mansk gave an awkward wave as Lyle wrapped an arm around him, whispering something. Whatever it was, it turned his cheeks purple. 

Doctor Stone motioned for them to follow them inside. He didn't have to tell Delta; she was already running through the doors in a full sprint. 

What a strange girl. He wanted to know more. 

"I'll stay on banshee duty. Somebody's got to keep these idiots from eating each other," Mansk stated, hearing Firefly roar at an unsuspecting Quicksilver. "Particularly her." 

Cupcake can't do all of the work. 

Taking the lead, Miles was the first Recom to enter the building, having to bend as he was too tall. Spider stuck to his side, happy to get rid of his annoying mask as soon as the doors shut behind them. 

Although a shame that Ed wasn't joining them, Spider could tell him about it later. 

"What's this big surprise you got for us, boss?" Jade asked, her ears twitching upwards with anticipation. "Must be big."

"Certainly is," he confirmed, not disclosing anything. 

While Spider didn't know why he didn't tell them, he wouldn't say anything. 

They reached a large room with several people working; it appeared to be a recreational hall. He spotted Delta waving her hands at somebody, and they were doing the same; were they talking? 

"We've kept it a secret from Doctor Taylor," Tyson smiled, proud. "She's a tenacious woman. Keeping anything from her is a momentous task." 

Miles only hummed in agreement. 

"We getting a new quack?" Ja asked, curious. "Somebody so that Lopez isn't the shortest anymore?"

"Hey! Changuito's shorter than me!"

"Kids don't count," Prager countered, frustrating Bruno. "You're making us antsy, sir. Who is this Doc Taylor?"

Lyle had a big smile on his face, seeming to realise. It only annoyed the others. 

Their intrigue shifted when two girls ran to them, staring with amazement and fear. All it took was a second for Spider to see the resemblance to Miles; although they were identical twins, one looked like Miles. 

The way that she held herself, the confidant smirk on her face, and her body language screamed ambition and dedication. Meanwhile, her sister stayed behind her, more cautious than her. 

"You didn't tell us the soldiers were avatars!" the confidant girl said, her accent similar to Garvin's. "They're huge!"

"We're recoms," Prager corrected, seeming to notice the similarities as well. "Our human selves died, but we came back as these."

"Blue alien zombies!?" the other sister yelped, sticking behind the confidant one, who merely rolled her eyes. "Robbie, they're zombies!"

"These are Doctor Taylor's daughters, Robin and Jesse. And be polite, girls. They only just arrived," Doctor Stone said, noticing how Miles looked at them. 

The largest Recom got down, making himself smaller for them. 

He took his dog tags, handing them to Robin. The ones that Spider callously tossed aside and Miles never admonished him for. He had even smiled at Spider's blatant disrespect. 

Robin looked over them, reading the name. 

"Marines, meet my nieces," Miles said, startling them. Although he wasn't surprised, Tyson seemed curiously intrigued. "You look just like your mama at her age."

"Uncle Miles?" Jesse questioned, confused. "You're a zombie?"

"Sort of," he shrugged, watching as she approached him. "I won't bite. Neither will they," he added, motioning for his team to get down too. 

Lyle was the most eager, leaning over Miles' shoulder, tail wagging. 

All of them were captivated by the two. 

Spider didn't know how to feel about his cousins.

He didn't know that he had any until recently. 

Robin, ever the brave twin, reached and touched Miles' face. She pushed back his upper lip, staring at his sharp fangs. 

"This is your cousin and my son, Spider," he introduced, holding a hand to Spider. Though nervous, Miles made him feel safe. He took some steps closer to the girls, anxious. 

Tyson didn't know about that piece. Part of him found that funny. 

Jesse stroked Spider's applied stripes, amazed. 

"Are you part kitty?"

"Na'vi, and no, I'm like you," Spider answered, licking his hand and rubbing part of the stripe away. "It's from berries; it makes me a better hunter."

"You hunt? That's so cool!" Robin exclaimed, excited. "Do you use a bow? I'm learning a bow!"

Robin was loud, but she was excited; Spider understood that.

It was great that she was learning to use a bow. They could share something. 

"I'm super with a bow. I can show you," Spider said, unable to stop himself from smiling. None of the other kids ever wanted to hang out with him. "I can introduce you to the Ikran, too."

"The banshees," Ja clarified, causing Jesse to be less anxious. "Shredder and Firefly aren't friendly, but the rest are. Whiskey's our friendliest."

"Because he's braindead," Jade snarked. "I can give you girls a ride."

"We can fly!?" Jesse and Robin yelled in unison, ecstatic. 

Tyson looked nervous, but a quick glare from Lopez and Lyle shut him down. 

Miles looked happy. He met his nieces, and his nephew and sister were waiting somewhere. 

While Spider was disgustingly awkward, he wanted to get better. He liked his cousins and wanted to be cool with them. He never got the chance to have a positive relationship with other human kids before. 

He needed this; to feel accepted by more humans. 

As much as Spider didn't want to, he should connect with others. Most of all, he wanted to know more about Delta. She was weird, and he liked weirdness; ask Kiri. 

"Milly?"

Spider turned away from his cousins, spotting a woman with curly hair, bright eyes and a toddler on her hip. He saw it instantly, the look of heartbreak and relief on her face.

Scarlett. 

Chapter Text

Why does everything taste like literal dirt now?

"I think she's cute," Nathan argued, getting a huff from their little sister. "What? Ayani's cute!"

Nathan's taste in people continued to baffle Miles.

"You should ask her out," Ellie joked, elbowing Nathan. "Can you imagine it? Big Nate, marrying the first pair of tits he sees." 

"Maybe she's got a car that works," Miles added, earning a nod from Ellie. "Don't look at me like that. We all know it's a damn miracle the thing hasn't fallen apart."

"Don't insult Lucille. She's a hard worker."

"You mean hardly working," Eleanor corrected, causing Nathan to feign injury. "Seriously, Nat. Get a new car."

"I would rather die."

"You certainly will in that death trap," Miles continued, shaking his head. "And Lucille? Really? You named it?"

"At least I can drive."

"I can drive, just not literal pieces of rusty shit with paint for wheels." 

"I wanna drive," Ellie whined, almost finished with her microwaved macaroni. "Can I have a car?"

"No," the twins said in unison, making her grumble; she's got a worse potty mouth than Miles. 

That's saying something. 

He hates this. He hates that there isn't anything to help Ellie. 

He gets called a pessimist for this, but Earth is dead. Kaput. It's a hunk of rotten mud floating in an endless vacuum of nothingness. No matter how often they got shipped off to some random battlefield, it didn't change anything. 

How many more tours will he and Nathan have to do? It seemed endless.

"Alright, I'm gonna have a shower," Ellie sighed, getting up and taking her ratty shirt off. The twins were used to her lack of privacy, watching as she walked into the bathroom. 

Nathan had to do this alone last time because Miles was stuck in Nigeria. It didn't go well. 

They didn't get paid enough to survive. What the hell are they going to do?

The weight of everything was heavy on Miles. He had to look after his family while also being an on-duty marine. 

It frustrated him sometimes how little Nathan considered this. It was a miracle they got Scarlett into that school, but it also meant they couldn't find a more pleasant place to live. They couldn't afford it regardless, but still. 

Schools were barely held together nowadays; it was a lottery if you'd get in. Even then, you had to be damn smart to be considered. Although Ellie qualified, she wasn't picked, and no jobs were available. It's no wonder she fell into drugs, especially when Miles and Nate were away. 

They tried to organise it so that one of them always stayed behind, but it was getting hostile out there. They'd get shipped out to different places, and the girls would have to live with Rafael or his "home". 

It wasn't like Nathan and Miles could get an apartment for themselves. Everything was overflowing; the population was still out of control, even with the strict laws. It was a marvel that they even got a gross motel room for a few days.

"Who's taking the first shift?" Nathan asked, awkwardly watching the bathroom door.

"I will," Miles stated, leaning back in the crappy chair. "It's gonna be bad."

"It was rough last time. Now that I've got backup, it should work out," Nathan said, hopeful. Miles could see the doubt, however. "It'd be easier if the crap wasn't easy to get." 

"There aren't a lot of ways to escape these days. If it ain't the military or drugs, it's metal boots in a river." 

"Aren't you a ray of sunshine tonight." 

"No, I'm just more realistic. Take one gander at history, and you'll see that shit's gone downhill since we discovered clacking rocks together made fire. It never gets better. All we got is each other, and that's all we'll ever have." 

"You need to get laid."

Miles snorted, rolling his eyes at his brother. 

Maybe he did. It's not that he's anxious, but it's not something he actively goes for. He waits for someone to approach him first. He never felt comfortable instigating anything. 

It could be from hearing mom crying or what happened to Ellie at five; he wasn't sure. Either way, it was a good enough reason for him to wait. 

He couldn't trigger a woman by coming up to them. Most ladies nowadays have endured some form of harassment or abuse like that. It was another reason to be disgusted by the world. 

How many fellow soldiers or superiors has he seen engage in that atrocity? And he wasn't allowed to do much other than hit them for being irredeemable assholes. Friendly fire results in execution, and Miles wouldn't leave the girls alone. Who would be there when Nathan had to go?

"Milly, no matter what happens, we keep that door locked. She will try to leave and won't be herself when the withdrawals hit." 

"Our drill sergeant did this as interrogation. I know that it gets weird."

"You've never done it with someone you loved." 

"Fair enough. It's not something I'm looking forward to it. But we love her and Little Bug." 

"You sure that you're good with the first watch?"

"I can handle it. Don't worry about me. Your snoring alone will keep me up."

"Fuck you."

"Ain't the time to masturbate, Nat."

Nathan grumbled, leaning back, scowling. He shook his head, frustrated with his twin.

Miles has a talent for irritating Nathan with little effort. 

"This again?" Nathan sighed, biting his lower lip. 

"What? We've gotten asked that old-ass question since boot camp. Is it incest or masturbation if it's your clone or twin?" Miles shrugged, feeling a smirk growing. "And it annoys you." 

"It annoys me immensely. It wasn't funny then, and it isn't now."

"And you call me the killjoy." 

"You're the bane of my life."

"Love you too," he grinned, dodging a paper plate tossed at him. 

No matter how old they were, they'd always be the same pair of idiots that shared a womb. 

They paused when Ellie left the bathroom, her hair dripping on the floor. She rubbed a towel around her body, drying off. It pained him to see the marks on her arms. 

That's what they're here for, though. They're here to keep their little sister from hurting herself more. 

He didn't blame her for running to drugs. It was an act of desperation and the need to escape their depressing lives. He wouldn't be bothered if it was weed, but it wasn't. 

"Hey, Milly, you've had a tattoo, yeah?" Ellie asked, tossing the towel to Nathan. 

"What of it?" he questioned, watching her put some pyjamas on. 

"I wanna get an eagle!" she smiled, slapping her upper arm. "Right there!"

An eagle? Of all the animals. 

"You're scared of birds," Nathan stated, confused. "Why do you want a bird? At least Milly's makes sense; mama loved sharks."

"It's an eagle, Nat. While I was out in Alaska with my ex - that fucker still owes me a toaster - I saw one."

"They've been dead for over a century, Ellie. The only birds are pigeons and crows." 

"I'm telling you, Nate, it was big and brown with a white head, yellow beak and freaky, wrinkly yellow feet!" Ellie exclaimed, offended that Nate didn't believe her. "It sounded like a cat being strangled. Nothing like Uncle Douglas' movies."

"You find it in the same hellhole you got that inside-out chicken from?" Miles inquired, earning a harsh scowl from her. "I refuse to believe that bald, heinous monstrosity is a cat."

"Albert is a good boy!"

"As good as that bird was real," Nate shot back, frustrating her. "C'mon, you can see why I'm sceptical. I had to convince you the smurfs weren't stealing our dishwasher once; we've never had one."

"The fuck is a smurf?" Miles questioned, confused. "Sounds like a haemorrhoid cream." 

"If Nate says that eagle wasn't real again, I'll give him a haemorrhoid!" Ellie growled, plopping herself on the bed. She pulled the covers over her head, grumbling to herself. "And I was sober when I saw it, jackass."

Although Miles didn't believe that they were around, he wouldn't say for definite that they were all extinct.

There was the ancient fish, for example. It was supposed to have died ages ago, but some schmuck found it while swimming. It's a cello-something. Whatever it is, it hasn't been sighted for over five decades.

They did believe all of them Tasmanian Tigers to be dead, and they found a gaggle living in cave systems some years back. It's not impossible, only improbable. 

Nathan sighed to himself, getting up to sit next to Ellie.

As Miles had the first watch, Nathan needed to apologise to their firecracker. 

"Maybe you did see it. I'm sorry," Nathan said, glancing at Miles for assistance. Miles only shrugged. "You scared?"

"Only when you're gone," Ellie said softly, meaning the both of them. "Thanks, guys. I mean it."

"Always," Miles assured, moving his chair closer to the bed. "One of us will be up whenever you need us. Don't be hard on yourself, alright?"

"What's that marine saying? Simmer fry?"

"Semper Fi, you snarky bitch," Nathan corrected, knowing she did that on purpose. "Always Faithful."

"Oorah, boys."

Although it hurt him to see his little sister like this, he was happy to be with her. He missed her. 

He didn't miss that hideous creature she called a cat, however. 

After several minutes, Ellie was away in a fluffy fairyland. As much as he hoped that she'd sleep soundly, he knew otherwise. 

It's going to suck. 

Deep breaths. 

"It hurts!" Ellie cried, pushing her face into Miles' chest. She balled her fists, shaking fiercely in his arms. 

If he had a way to take it away, he would. 

She was in so much pain, her body craving a poison it fooled itself into thinking it needed. It didn't matter that Ellie didn't want it anymore; she was hooked, and the fisherman wasn't letting go of this catch. His little sister deserved so much more and better.

No matter how much he did, it wasn't enough to protect her or Scarlett. The best he could do was get promoted and funnel more money to them, what little he got. Almost everything went to keeping Little Bug in that school. 

They can't afford medical bills or anything like that. Even if rehab was available, they couldn't pay for it. 

So, they sat, huddled on a bed in a gross motel room.

Miles could hug her, whisper sweet nothings, and wrap her in a blanket with a bucket nearby, but that was it. 

"I know, baby girl. I'm here," he said, holding her tight, feeling his bones vibrate from her tremors. She was sweating and nauseous; she's been sick twice already. "Tell me about the bird. Must've been a sight if you want a tattoo of it."

He needed to do something to distract her and make it easier. He can't get rid of it, so he'll do what he can to manage it. 

Quickly, Miles reached for the bucket, marking the third time his sister was sick. Although it hurt to see her suffer, he understood he had no idea how she was feeling. He never wanted to, either. 

It reminded him of when she got her first-period cramps. It was heavy and agonising for her; she couldn't even move.

Rafael wasn't interested in "childish whining", so Miles was there. He had to learn about that stuff, and not only for Ellie. He recognised that someday, Little Bug would need similar advice and support. Thankfully, Little Bug's experience was alright, considering. 

Ellie cried for five days, struggling to cope, and Miles did his best. He had to teach her about sanitary products while being distressfully ignorant of that sort of thing. He was almost eighteen around then, having to sit with her as she sobbed into a pillow. 

It barely got easier with time. He suspected she might've turned to drugs to quell some of that anguish. He didn't blame her for that. 

He didn't blame his little sister for anything. 

If anything, Miles was angry at the world. It was a disgusting and horrible place that was only getting worse. It's a marvel that America is still intact, especially after eleven states went independent. Hawaii wasn't even meant to be American, so that didn't count. 

America wasn't supposed to be American, but it was around five centuries too late for that argument. 

"Up there with Tommy," Ellie sniffled, her head against his chest. "It's big, Milly. We were out there in the thick and wild and beautiful. The lights danced at night."

He's heard of the Northern Lights, the aurora borealis. Such a beautiful thing seemed impossible in such a cruel world. 

If another time, Miles would brag that he knew Thomas was an asshole. He knew it instantly. Even Rafael, who was frustratingly hands-off, didn't like the guy. While Rafael didn't love anybody, he especially disliked Thomas. 

His little sister deserved someone far better than a druggie dropout beggar. 

"Tell me the lights," he asked quietly, "When this is over, you'll have to show them to me." 

"Purple and blue, teal and green, orange and pink, swirling and dancing, like waves on starry sand," Ellie said quietly, trying to return there instead of her trembling body. "It was clear enough that I saw stars. A blanket of black with little shining freckles everywhere." 

Part of him hoped that she saw this. If there was any place with minimal pollution, Alaska had a shot. After it threatened to join Canada, America stopped ripping it apart for oil. It didn't matter after Canada and America had a stupid civil war. 

Never go to war with Canadians. They're why the Geneva Convention was even made; sons of bitches used it as a checklist. 

War is everywhere, and he's numb to it. 

Maybe he'll take his sisters to Alaska and see these lights for himself. 

"Morning after," she continued, breathing heavily, "I heard a squeak noise. I left the truck, and there it was, sitting in a tree. It was big."

Talking about it soothed the shaking slightly. 

"Big enough to eat your demon ballsack?"

"Albert, and yeah. It was beautiful, Milly."

"Wish you didn't run away, but glad you saw it."

"You believe me?"

"I believe you saw something. Can't say if it was an eagle, but something was there." 

"Thanks, Milly," she whimpered, the tremors returning violently. "I just want it to stop," she cried, digging her nails into her hand so hard that she started bleeding. 

Carefully, Miles pried her hand open, locking her fingers with his. 

"I know," he said, hating to see her in so much pain. "And we're here for all of it."

Maybe another hour or so before he boots Nathan's snoring ass. 

Anything for her. 

A loud bang shook Miles awake. He was tired and groggy but was immediately in action mode. 

Jumping to his feet, Miles saw Nathan restraining a distraught and screaming Ellie. The first thing on his mind was to free her, but they talked about this. They knew that it was going to get rough. 

When the cravings got bad enough, she'd do anything to leave and get a fix. They had to be strong for her during this and keep her there, away from going back to square one. 

It was making her sick and destroying her. They couldn't do anything else. 

"Get her legs!" Nathan shouted, holding her in a full Nelson. 

Although it made him nauseous, Miles followed orders, holding her legs down. He was careful, only putting his weight on her shins, avoiding her thighs. She wasn't in a good mental state; it could make her panic more. 

He hated to hear her scream and yell, begging them to let her go and make it stop. She was in agony, but they couldn't do anything to help her. 

Maybe a century ago, there was something, but not now. If you weren't rich, you were left to suffer and die. 

Ellie had scratches on her arms, self-inflicted. The itching must be infuriating. 

They needed to do something to calm her down. She was borderline hyperventilating in her panic. 

"Nat, do you remember that thing mom used to sing? When she was putting El and Little Bug down?" Miles questioned, earning a quizzical look from his twin. "You got any better ideas?"

He couldn't. 

Miles struggled with anything related to that stuff after mom died. How could he not? If not for his inaction, there was a chance their mother would still be here. 

It's his fault she died.

By doing nothing, Ellie barely remembered their mother, and Scarlett didn't know her.

She believed wholeheartedly in Judaism; he couldn't tarnish that love. All of that stuff was important to her. He'd ruin it like he did everything else. 

It's why he didn't take her name, unlike the others. He didn't deserve it. 

Even speaking her language felt like an insult to her. He physically couldn't. 

"You remember it, don't you?" Nathan said, relaxing his grip slightly, "Durme, durme hijiko de Madre," he started, straining at her sobbing. 

It hurt to see their little sister like this. 

"Durme, durme s’in ansio y dolor..." Ellie continued. She was shaking but not outright fighting anymore. "Sienti joya palavrikas de tu Madre..."

Miles couldn't say the words, but he could whistle for her.

Anything to make it easier.

"Las palavras di Shema Yisrael."

"Durme, durme hijiko de Madre..."

"Con hermozura di Shema Yisrael," Nathan sighed, looking drained as she went limp against him. "Ani ohev ot'cha, akhoti." 

He could see it in her eyes. How hard she was fighting for them and herself. It wasn't fair. 

At least Nate's accent sounded silly with the lullaby. 

Ellie was still crying, but it wasn't as volatile as before. Even so, they should expect this again soon. Detoxing is hard, especially on the one trying to boot the habit. 

Miles shuffled to sit beside them, internally screaming that his siblings were hurting and he couldn't do anything. 

"You're a lot tougher than us," Miles stated, helping her as Nathan let go. "I'll take over, Nat. Get some sleep."

"Hasn't nearly been long enough, Milly."

"I haven't had to wrestle a hairless bear, either," Miles pointed out, supporting her as she stood. The sweat had drenched her pyjamas. "How about a bath?"

"Fuck you, I don't smell," Ellie grumbled, gripping him hard. Mood swings and being easily agitated are something to be wary of. "Yeah, that'd be great. Sorry, guys."

"Don't mention it," Nathan huffed, making his way to the bed. "You're almost as bad as he is, El."

"Try not to cause an earthquake."

"Milly, I will shove my boot so far up your ass I'll clean the heel with your tonsils."

Sibling love is weird. 

Once in the bathroom, Miles helped Ellie get her clothes off. They were heavy with sweat, tears and possibly puke. It's like the time she had a fever all over again when she was just a toddler. 

He waited for her to get into the tub before starting the bath. That way, she could tell him if it was too hot or cold. It's a morbid game trying to balance between the temperatures, as there wasn't a "mildly warm" or "slightly cold" option; it's freezing or boiling. 

So many people have cooked themselves alive like that. He could've sworn their maternal great-grandfather died that way. Fucker survived World War Four, and he died in a bath. The sheer irony of that. 

Their mother had his ring, which Miles was given per her will, which he didn't even know she had. It's a signet ring from her grandfather's regiment or squad - they were called the Night Stalkers.

An epic story that he wanted to tell Scarlett when she got older. 

Ellie leaned back, resting her head against the wall. She looked so tired and sickly that it made him nauseous. 

"Why was he like that?" Ellie asked, lazily looking up at her brother. "Our father."

"Sperm donor. And I can't say. I know he had a good life before choosing to drown himself in a bottle, even had a lot of money once, and came from a rich family. Trevor was plain mean, that's all." 

"Addiction is genetic. Lettie's little homework thing talked about genes. I get it from him." 

"Possibly, but I don't think so. You're every bit our mother." 

"I don't remember her anymore, Milly," she said coldly, sadness welling in her beautiful green eyes. "All I see is her face after he killed her." 

He wished that he had done more to protect them. That's what a brother does. 

And he failed.

"That's what Nat and I are for, baby girl. And I mean it when I say you're the spitting image of her." 

Ellie lowered in the water, using her hand to let him know when to change the taps. After a few minutes, it was filled, the warmth pulling away the filth and stress. 

He had to stay with her. As much as he didn't want to be around his naked sister, he was used to it. Hell, he had to wipe her ass when mom was too hurt. He had to do that with Scarlett, too. 

How Trevor got away with four kids was astounding, given how strict the two-child policy was. And by the time he and Nathan reached twenty-four, the upper pricks were discussing cutting that down to one per family. It took forever to get the first policy worldwide, let alone that one. 

He'll probably be dead and buried by the time that happens. 

"I don't want to be like him, Milly."

"You won't be." 

"But I'm starting to see things. I'm hearing stuff that's not there. What if I break again and hurt you or Nat?" 

"I've gotten plastered, Ellie. Full blackout drunk. I never did what he did. Trevor chose to be violent. None of this is your choice or your fault, and we aren't going to blame you for any of it. It's just your brain going into survival, gremlin mode. It thinks you lack something important, so it's in panic mode." 

"All this because some ball of fat thinks it needs some Pyre?" 

"It doesn't make sense to me, but that's the basics. You're fighting a vicious battle; you are braver than me for facing it head-on." 

Although she rolled her eyes, he could tell it lightened her mood. 

Anything to make it easier. 

Pyre was one of the many names for the crap sweeping the streets. It got that nickname due to how fast it spread; news said it was like wildfire to a parched forest. 

And for how quickly it "burned" through a person. 

"Semper Fi, right?"

"That's right," he smiled, patting her shoulder. "I'll make Nate get you some drawing crap, and we can figure out that eagle tattoo. Maybe some food. I might even be able to get that tv working." 

"Can we listen to Ke$ha?"

"If we have to." 

"Sweet." 

"You certainly can be when you want to."

"You say that to all the girls, Milly? No wonder Nate's the one getting a squeeze."

"He's got a worse taste than you, and that's saying something."

"Ouch. You wound me," she feigned, a hand over her right breast in mock injury. He shook his head, unphased. "You should get a dragon."

"A dragon? Why in the damn hell would I get a corny fire gecko?"

"They're cool, Milly. Come on. It could be your call sign thingy?"

"What? Dragon? I think that's taken."

"Fine," she huffed, thinking it over. Her eyes widened as a terrible idea popped into her head. "Papa Dragon!"

Miles stared, not sure whether to laugh or choke on confusion.

Why that, of all things?

"Why Papa?" he questioned, baffled.

"Because you're me and Scarlett's dad, Milly. Even Nate's. You pretty much raised us because Raf sure as shit didn't. Papa Dragon or Daddy Eagle - you will have one."

"Fine, I'll take Papa Dragon."

"Thanks, Mills," she smiled, in a much better mood. 

So long as he got to see this, all of her anguish could be tolerated. 

He loved this young woman. He knew she'd be big someday, something that rocked this awful world to its core. 

In a way, she wasn't wrong. 

Miles has raised them, making him a fatherly figure. The idea of being a dad disgusted him, though. He even got a vasectomy to make sure he'd never have kids.

He was terrified of ending up like Trevor, a vicious and abusive man, or Rafael and being neglectful. The man helped them but wasn't there for the girls. 

All Rafael was interested in was him and Nate, and barely that. 

If it gave Ellie some comfort, he'd tolerate it. 

There's not a lot to dream out. Most of it sucked and was horrible nightmares of the several battles he endured. 

However, some were pleasant. His favourite had to be a beach, dirty and grey like everything else on the dead planet. 

Sitting close to the waves was his mother, staring out at nothing. He never saw her eyes. Those dead, unmoving and lifeless eyes haunted him. 

Weirdly, they would sit there as the tide came, enveloping them. It was cold against his skin, and he almost tasted the thick salt. When the sea came, his older self got washed away, and he was a kid again, returned to the day he became a teenager and lost her simultaneously. 

It was her absolute calm that put him at ease. Sometimes, his mother would raise her hand and point to the endless depths. When she did, the silhouette of a shark-like creature swam in the distance. 

On three different occasions, it got close enough to see its colours. 

But this time, it swam far closer, a big bastard of a creature. It was blurred, his mind only aware of brief details of the animal. 

Something was different. It didn't feel like the other dreams. His mother was gone, nought but a pile of sand. 

The pressure of the sea was suddenly upon him, its hot breath blowing into his face. A void opened, rows of yellowish teeth inching closer. He couldn't move, frozen as the blurry jaws clamped atop him. 

Miles' eyes snapped open, air rushing from his lungs. The dream was over, and the waking world came with a vengeance, blinding heat rocketing through his abdomen and up his spine. 

Unable to make a sound, Miles followed the source of the heat. A piece of a broken vase was sticking out of his gut, blood leaking from the wound. 

What didn't make sense was the hand holding it. 

She pulled it back, shaking and breathing heavily, her eyes clouded by something he couldn't see. 

Where the fuck was Nathan? 

His little sister must be having another freakout, seeing something that wasn't there. 

Once he tried to get up, she jumped, sending them both to the ground and breaking the chair under him. Splinters dug into his back. Quickly, Miles moved his head out of the way, missing a forceful jab with the pottery piece to the eyeball. 

"Ellie. Ellie!" He shouted, panic and adrenaline running wild. She wasn't hearing him, grunting something to herself. "Ellie!"

"Fuck you!" she growled with hatred and spite, water running from her eyes. "I won't let you! Not again!"

Miles, not thinking, pushed her off him. The strain caused the pain in his abdomen to worsen; it was almost blinding. 

She tried to stick him again, only cutting his right shoulder. He grabbed her wrists, trying to make her calm down. 

"It's me, El, it's Milly," Miles said firmly, blood rushing in his ears.

"I hate you," she seethed, blood leaking from her hand with how hard she held the shard.

He wrestled her onto the floor, trying to get the weapon away before she hurt herself. 

Ellie screamed and drove her knee into his weeping injury. He faltered, the force winding him. She kicked him onto his back, scrambling atop him to stab him in the chest. 

"You won't touch me again, you fucker," she growled, hyperventilating. 

Miles held her wrists, terrified that she was going to hurt herself. Her green eyes were filled with hate, but it was for a man that Miles unfortunately resembled. 

He gripped her wrists tightly, sitting up to get close to her. 

"It's me," he panted, stress twisting between his shoulders. "Papa Dragon, right? You were going to draw me that eagle," he affirmed, making her look him in the eyes. "It's Milly, your brother." 

Finally, something clicked. 

He watched as his little sister returned, the hate washing away like a tsunami. She pulled away from him, analysing what had happened.

Miles gripped his abdomen, biting his lip and the warm wetness. He pulled his hand away, seeing a lot of vibrant red. That's probably not good. They should have a kit somewhere around.

Fuck, Nathan left it in his atrocity of a car, and the door was locked. It's alright; they'll manage it. 

"Milly?" Ellie questioned, a pained sob in her voice. He looked back at her, watching her eyes widen with horror. "Oh god, Milly..." she whimpered, dropping to her knees. 

Miles tried to sit up again but froze; his body wouldn't move. 

He hated it when that happened. It only lasted a few seconds but got on his nerves sometimes. Another irritation was that he couldn't speak during it. 

Although he wanted to tell her it was fine, he didn't get the chance. 

"What'd I do!?" She cried, shaking so much he could compare it to a seizure. 

Before Miles could say anything, something cloudy came over his little sister's eyes again. Terror gripped his soul as she brought the broken piece to her neck.

"No, Ellie!" he yelled, feeling his blood run cold as she dug into her neck and forcefully pulled to the side. 

Pain be damned, Miles moved, racing to his little sister as she collapsed. Panic pounding in his chest and ears, Miles scrambled to her. 

His sister was back, confused and scared. He saw her neck, breathing heavily as he could see the wound. It was deep.

Too deep. 

Even so, Miles put his hands over her neck, desperate for it to do something, anything. It disgusted him to feel her jugular throbbing against his hand. No man should see the oesophagus of their little sister. 

He already knew but didn't want to accept it. 

"Don't do this, El, don't go," he whimpered, feeling like a child again. "Eleanor, please," he pleaded, shaking and feeling sick build in his throat. 

Miles felt her bring a hand to him, weak and shaky. Unable to stop, he grasped hers, pleading that she didn't go. 

Ellie's bright green eyes were colder; it was like he could see them empty. Salty fluid ran freely from his eyes onto her chest, the air turning sour and hard to breathe. The smell of copper was overwhelming and terrifying. 

He saw her lips, once a warm red, turn to a ghostly pale. She tried to say something, only managing to mouth something he could barely register.

Sorry.

No, she shouldn't apologise. It wasn't her fault. She could hug him later, and they'd get over it like they always did. 

"Please, Ellie," Miles begged, unable to recognise his voice. "Ellie, baby girl, please, don't leave me..."

His chest imploded to see those haunting, empty eyes again, only with a green shade this time. 

Miles couldn't process it. He didn't want to accept the limp fingers in his grasp, the coldness under the other.

His little sister couldn't be gone. 

He felt his strength wane, flowing out from the hole in his abdomen. He almost forgot about it while trying to save Eleanor. 

As much as he tried, he couldn't stop himself from falling to the side, blood pooling beneath them both. 

Everything is swirling, and his vision is smudged, thoughts fragmenting with confusion. Time was gone, leaving behind nothing but darkness creeping from all around. It shouldn't be so cold in here.

There wasn't telling how long he stared at the ceiling, unwilling to process the situation. 

Why did this happen? Why didn't he stop her? 

Something changed, a faint vibration through the floor. He was moving, but he wasn't doing it, and something bright burned his eyes. 

There's noise, but it's muffled and blotchy. 

"See the hands?" said someone. They were cold and disinterested. "Self-inflicted."

"Miles!" someone is shouting. It sounded like him. Nat? "Come on, dickhead!"

"He's bleeding out," the other grumbled. "Get the legs. We have to carry him to Bobby's."

"We can't leave her!"

"You want one dead sibling or two? Move it, soldier!" that's Rafael's voice. 

No, they had to get Ellie. They needed to help her. 

The shadows visited, obscuring his view. They quickly left, but he was not inside the motel anymore. The smoggy sky was open and unforgiving, almost sneering at him. 

Somebody is crying, and there's shouting. He didn't understand what was happening. 

Who's turn is it? Is it his?

He needed to check on Ellie. She must be hungry. 

"Had one job, fucking idiot," Rafael huffed. 

As his vision cleared more, he saw that his shirt was torn. There was so much red everywhere. 

Rafael had his hands over Miles' abdomen with his shirt, pressing harshly on a hot spot. Why is it so warm? Why is he so cold?

"We...?" Miles tried, confused. Are they moving?

"All you had to do was watch the bitch, but no, you had to be a pain. What'd we talk about freezing, Miles?" Rafael chastised, sounding annoyed he was even there. "I thought we were past this, the pussy freezing thing. Wasn't it bad enough when you got your mama killed? Now Eleanor. Great. Fan-fucking-tastic."

Ellie.

Cold hands, limp and lifeless in his. Empty, haunting and green eyes. Oh, fuck, her neck...

He froze. He did it again. 

"You're still in there, useless bastard?" Rafael grunted, poking his wound. Miles writhed, kicking out at the pain. "There you are. Why the hell have you done this to me? Fuck sake, and after all I've done for you brats. Don't you dare die and have wasted my time."

First mom, now Ellie. Was Rafael going to throw them to the curb for this? Then Scarlett will lose her chance at a decent life. He would've ruined her life again. 

It's all his fault. Again. 

Chapter Text

The last time Quaritch saw Little Bug, she was twenty and left to join some resistance movement somewhere. It didn't matter how hard he and Nate tried to find her; she vanished like a fart in the wind. 

Around that time, Nate took his family to Somalia to escape the worsening earthquakes in America. If not for Rafael, Quaritch wouldn't have known that he, Ayani and Lucas got captured by Yvonne Farah's people. 

His poor brother was mistaken for him and was forced to make a horrible choice. Although horrific, Quaritch preferred he chose the psychopath in the making than Ayani; she was a great sister-in-law. 

Another sister he lost. 

It was the final straw for his brother. Filled with pain, anger and grief, Nathan declared that Quaritch was a despicable curse on their family and wished him dead. That was the last time he saw Nate, as his twin joined that Terra Nova garbage, fleeing to a "new future in the past". 

For a while, Quaritch was alone. He didn't have anybody anymore. All that stayed was Rafael, the hideous parasite that he was. 

Even he didn't last, though. It was hard connecting with people again when he got to Hell's Gate.

Nobody knew he was meant to be the security chief; they thought he was a mercenary like Wainfleet. It's how he knew Grace would be a pain, given how she angrily insulted him for daring to kill a thanator. The big black beast that tried to turn him into lunch was sacred to the Tipani - he didn't even know what that was back then. 

Her face when he told her he ate it was hilarious, though. 

That alone got him a reputation among the folk there. He could still hear Patel mumbling while taking pictures of his scars and measuring them. Quaritch drew the line at "samples" being taken; apparently, nobody thought to eat thanator before him. 

He kept pieces of it. They were in his belongings somewhere hidden in his quarters. 

Quaritch will have to visit Hell's Gate and retrieve those. He'll have to return to his body to get mama's ring, too; that'll be a nice gift for Spider, as his fingers are too thick now. 

He could make a song cord thingy with it. That'd be sweet. Better yet, he could give it to Spider for his song cord. 

The Recom's tail straightened, the smell of concern permeating the air. He could almost taste it. 

It was hard to hear her ask that they talk privately. He didn't know how to feel or what to do. Even after that quack told him about her, he struggled to believe it. 

She bore a closer resemblance to their father than Eleanor did, but much of their mother shone through her. 

"It's been some time," Quaritch said, tail swaying nervously. She's so tiny, shorter than Spider. "Longer for you, I suppose."

It's still disorientating to know that almost fourteen years have passed. She's probably older than he was when he died. 

Age, when it came to cryo, unfortunately, confused things. 

"A very long time," Scarlett said, nervously reaching for him. His ears flattened when she touched his face, her slender fingers following the stripes on his jawline. "Oh, Milly. What'd they do to you?"

That's not the reaction he expected. Usually, it's "what did you do". 

Quaritch's tail curled behind him, slowing as he followed her curious hand. He had to lower himself into her touch, still far too tall for her. 

He'll never get over how confusing it is that humans are so tiny. The grown people were like children, so small and frail. Spider weighed almost nothing to Quaritch, despite being jacked and six-foot. 

His Little Bug wasn't just tiny, though. She's old. He can see the bags under her eyes, the grey curls; how old is she now? 

"It ain't all bad," he stated, feeling her touch reaching further, grazing his cropped ears. Why they were cut, he had no clue. "A few things are off. Don't like coffee anymore."

"They cropped you?"

"A way to separate us from the na'vi, I guess," he shrugged, "I'm twenty again. Sort of." 

The number struck something in Little Bug, a flash of pain and regret. 

"I'm so sorry, Milly. I shouldn't have left you and Nate," she said, water welling in her pretty eyes.

Instinctively, Quaritch wiped a tear away, slightly panicked by how tiny her head was in his hand. She held onto his wrist, somewhat relieved by his touch. 

"Got nothing to apologise for, Little Bug."

"Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"What you've always done, Milly. Ignore your feelings for us," Scarlett said firmly, sounding far more mature than he last saw her. "I'll never be able to repay what you did for me. Us. I'm so grateful but also haunted."

Quaritch didn't understand. His ears perked upwards before swivelling back, his tail swaying behind him. 

He watched her guide his hand downwards, unfurling it across her chest. He could feel the vibrations travel up his arm and into his ears, the taste of salt burning his mouth and nose. 

"I didn't understand for a long time what you gave up for us. Not fully. Not until I saw Robin holding Finn," she sighed, a hitch in her voice like a hot iron against his ears. "The thought of her raising Finn as you did with me broke me, Milly. You were always there for us, but nobody was there for you." 

From what he understood of their ages, it was startlingly similar. He would've been Robin's age, and Scarlett was Finn. He only met the girls today, but they were too young to look after a toddler alone. 

But that's what he did. And for Ellie and Nathan, too. 

That's what Quaritch had always done. It was second nature to him to be an authority figure around younger people. For many people at Hell's Gate, he became the fatherly figure they never had. He even became the godfather to some of the kids born there. 

He buried all of them. 

Quaritch felt his insides cringe at the idea of Spider being left alone to raise Finn, nobody there but some creepy fuck like Ardmore for support. That was his life, though. 

Unlike Frances, Rafael wasn't so direct with his disdain for others; he preferred manipulation over force. 

If Rafael were here instead of Ardmore, things would be much worse. He always knew exactly how to make Quaritch do what he wanted. The only time Quaritch overcame his bullshit was when he drove that knife into the fucker's neck. 

As much as he hated and loathed it, he grieved that cancer's demise. Rafael was the one that stayed, even if he was a parasite. 

"That's what a big sibling does, Little Bug. They make sure the little ones don't hurt like them."

"If I stayed with you, things could've been better." 

"And end up as another pawn in Rafael's games? You were far away, but you were safe from him. And look at you now, a mama of your own." 

"I'm not the only one, Mister: "the line ends with me". He's got your grin," Scarlett stated, proving herself to be the brains of their family. 

"I never wanted to be a dad. I'm scared shitless of it. He wasn't meant to be left here; I had a guy who would've happily taken him somewhere safe, but the asshats who killed me didn't let him - they kept Spider here, Scar, and they hurt him so much." 

His son became a hostage and was mistreated horrifically. At least Quaritch had Nate, Ellie and Scarlett; all Spider had was his friend. Even then, that was constantly interrupted by Sully's psycho wife. 

So many people were complicit in hurting his baby. It disgusted him. 

"You're many things, Milly, and one of them is being a good father."

"How can you be so certain of that?"

"You raised me, didn't you?"

Quaritch shouldn't have needed to raise his siblings. He didn't let himself think like that before. His sisters needed a parent, Rafael never cared, and Nathan couldn't. 

Look at her now; she was all grown up and had babies. He couldn't be prouder of Little Bug. 

She's done well for herself.

"I want to be a good dad. He deserves somebody, but he isn't like you or Ellie; he's a strong kid with a big heart but doesn't see that he's been hurt." 

Hurt is an understatement. They've been abusing his boy, neglecting him and treating him like shit. 

He's so curious and sweet; Quaritch ensured he felt comfortable enough to call the team assholes. He wanted Spider to trust him and know that Quaritch would set fire to the entire planet to keep him safe. 

After losing so much, including a large portion of his son's life, Quaritch wouldn't let that happen again. His boy will have a safe future; he'll make sure of it. 

There's so much that Quaritch wants to do with Spider and even more to teach him.

For instance, Quaritch was already decent at archery; he and Nathan picked it up in Argentina. They were competitive about it. For some curious reason, nobody mentioned to Spider that Quaritch was good with a bow. 

As Spider is a human, the way he uses a bow is straining on his body; the na'vi way is for na'vi physiology. He knew this because of the Pämìawng clan. 

Out of the jungle clans, they were one of the few that weren't complete assholes. They hated the Ayroa more than he did. One would hop the fence and annoy the avatars for shits and giggles. 

Her name was Zesìk, and she looked like a blue jaguar with thick fluffy fur. On one of the days she was being an amusing nuisance, she saw him and Zhang try and settle a bet via archery; she wanted to get involved. 

They didn't understand what she said; her clan's way of communication involved a lot more growling and "chuffing" than the ones Augustine frolicked with. However, they all understood the language of an arrow cutting through the air. 

Zesìk tried to copy their way, but her bone structure wouldn't allow it; it affected her accuracy. She then tried to see if they could mimic her way, but it wasn't much better. 

It was a horrific day when an Ayroa coward killed her and left her body outside the gates. Per their way, they defiled her corpse and skinned her for her fur. 

Quaritch almost punched Augustine when she attempted to tell him that they "didn't mean to" and "must've been agitated" and "we shouldn't interfere". With Zesìk's death, the Pämìawng kept their distance, and it affected relations with the other jungle clans. 

She wasn't the only one to suffer the consequence of offering an olive branch. Every time, Augustine would explain it away, and it was always the Ayroa involved. 

The fact that the Omaticaya refused to do anything about their psycho neighbours always pissed him off. 

And his son was with those people. 

He'll show Spider the human way to use a bow; it'll make him much better and more accurate. In exchange, Quaritch could learn the na'vi way more suited for his new body. 

"Children don't blame their carers for their pain but themselves," Scarlett sighed, bringing him back to reality. "It'll take time to adjust to a new environment. Let him come to you, but always reassure him that you're there," she advised. 

That sounds doable. 

He'll have to ask Lyle for advice, too. He can care for someone physically; he's done that his entire life, but emotions are complicated and foreign. 

"I can do that," Quaritch nodded, ears perking upwards. "He's a very talented young man. I want him to know that."

"Then tell him, Milly."

Tell Spider that he's proud of him. He should've done that a while ago. 

He's a great lad and will be a brilliant man someday. He should hear it. 

"I will," he agreed, feeling his tail curling behind him. "It's great that he gets to meet his cousins."

"Maybe."

"Maybe?"

"You weren't there for a long time. He might feel that now you've got us, you won't need him anymore. Make sure that he knows you love him regardless."

He hadn't considered that possibility. 

Spider's always been pushed aside, so it was probable. He hated the idea of that. 

"I'll talk to him. No matter what, he's my boy, and I'll ruin any motherfucker that tries to change that." 

His little sister chuckled, rolling her eyes at his promise. 

"I'm sure, Milly. Now, introduce me to your baby."

He didn't know his tail could wag. 

"Hell yeah."

She will see how cool his son is and how Spider gave him a new purpose. He's an incredible young man, filled with potential and bright with innocence. 

He was so much like his mother. He was beautiful and strong, a tough kid filled with love and curiosity. 

Quaritch wanted to take Spider's hurt away, wrap him up and keep him safe. He needs to hear that he's wanted and loved unconditionally. 

The pair went outside Scarlett's office. Several of Scarlett's pals stared at Quaritch, taken aback by his size. Judging by their expressions, they hadn't seen a lot of na'vi before. 

They kept a distance, looking at Quaritch as though he was a pissed-off Viperwolf. 

All he's upset about is that he missed so much of his baby's life. 

Once they entered the main hall that seemed to be recreational, Quaritch was most interested in the SeaDragon's quack, who was holding tiny Finn. Something in his head clicked, spotting similarities between the toddler and the science puke.

Oh, god. 

"Ian! It's been too long," Scarlett smiled, hugging the nervous spectacled man. The toddler cooed, grasping his mother. "Keeping Milly from me was mean."

"Your brother is scary," the Doc said, looking up at the scowling Recom. "He would've thrown me off the ship."

"Indeed."

"Don't be like that, Milly. Ian's a good man," Scarlett stated, lightly slapping his leg. She couldn't reach his shoulder even if she stood on the Doc. "You taught me not to settle for anyone but the best."

Damn straight.

"She sort of grabbed me and never let me go," Ian chuckled nervously, looking like he would die from terror. "I'm glad that I got to meet the man that raised my wife. Even if he wants to skin me alive." 

He does. 

"My nieces and nephew are cute. That's why you get to live." 

They're fucking adorable. 

His little sister rolled her eyes, pushing her son into his oversized arms. The toddler was small, about a year younger than Spider was before Quaritch died. It's like holding a glass, constantly nervous that he might break the babe.

He could hold the little one with one hand; it was like when he had to pick up Ellie's cat. Unlike Albert, Finn wouldn't take a chunk out of his forearm. 

Finn reached out, patting Quaritch's shiny dog tags, missing his necklace. His nephew had big eyes, unaware of the horrible world his family came from. From what Ian told Quaritch, Finn must've been born in space; it's rare, but it's happened before. 

Pandora is all this babe has ever known. The twins must've been nine or so when they entered cryosleep. That makes Pandora their home, too. 

This moon is their best chance at a safe, fresh life. Unlike his little sister, they'll be able to see the green and beauty of a living world. They'll never have to feel sick because of polluted air.

They'll always be warm and comfortable, able to play as they should. 

"Ki!" Finn gurgled, waving his hands towards the blue hybrid. 

Somehow, he knew that Finn was calling him "Kitty". It's a weird nickname since Finn has probably never seen a cat. There are videos, though.

When Spider was this little, he'd clamber into anything he could. Some of the soldiers would call him Spiderboy. 

Fike used to call him Miles Morales, an African American rendition of the comic hero. Quaritch didn't know about that stuff, but Sean was an encyclopedia about comics. 

He and Paz would ramble for hours about that stuff when Quaritch gave her a break. 

And the man was dead. Again. 

They haven't talked about it. How Fike, Zhang, Walker, Warren and Brown were dead. It's still weird to understand that they all died, even though they don't remember it. 

Paz has been dead for fourteen years. It felt like he only saw her a few months ago, though. There's a distortion in time for the Recoms. 

He didn't want to miss so much time with his nephew. 

"He likes you," Scarlett grinned, happy to see her boy's approval. "Does he weigh anything to you?"

"Not in the slightest. I think my index finger is the length of his arm," Quaritch answered, his tail waving behind him, captivating the kid. "You like that, eh?"

He made a weird sound akin to a yelp when someone grabbed his tail. He turned around, ears back and teeth bared angrily. 

The weird girl, Delta, gave another tug and hissed at him. 

"No, Delta, no!" Scarlett admonished, but the girl wouldn't listen to her. "Don't grab. We've talked about this!"

Delta, what had to be a nickname or something, hissed at Scarlett. 

He could smell that something was different about her. 

Quickly, Quaritch passed Finn to his mother, pulling his tail from the girl's grasp. An urge bubbled in his chest, a rumble bursting from his throat, just like when his banshee dared him to challenge her. 

Her dark eyes darted to his tail movements and then to his ears, watching intently. She made a deeper sound, almost like a purr, mysteriously easing his agitation. 

Something clicked as he observed her. The way she expressed herself was eerily familiar. 

He's shit, but he could try something. 

The Recom knelt, growing curious. 

"My name, Miles," he tried, ears twitching forwards to snatch any sound from her. "You. Delta. Yes?"

Unexpectedly, the odd girl pounced, wrapping her arms around his waist. 

Somehow, Quaritch realised why this girl was so odd. She's like Spider. 

How many others are there like them?

"She's never done that before," Ian said curiously, momentarily losing his fear of the Recom. "I didn't know you could speak Na'vi."

"Ain't any good; the accent fucks it up. Guessing she's spent a long while with na'vi."

"We found her on a nearby island; a na'vi village was destroyed, and she was the only survivor," Scarlett explained, equally interested. "She's not entirely human, though."

"What?" he questioned, confused. 

She looks completely human. What were they talking about?

The girl loosened her grip as Doctor Stone joined them, visibly saddened. 

"The RDA are shady fucks," the man sighed, shaking his head. "She's ninety-per cent human, and the rest is na'vi, all in an attempt to make humans breathe the atmosphere. She's unable to speak due to it. Delta uses the native sign language instead. Her freckles shine in the dark, too, but they're very itchy for her." 

It's not surprising that they did this. The RDA were more than shady; they were downright evil. 

At least Spider wasn't alone in feeling more connected to na'vi than humans. Her situation was drastically different, however. 

The girl looked up at him, her eyes glued to his necklace. 

When he figured out how to do the native sign language, he could tell her all about the legendary siren na'vi people. 

"I'm a magnet for damaged kids," he snorted, finding some humour in the absurdity of it. "At least Spider gets a friend." 

"Where is he?" Ian asked.

"He went outside with the girls. The big guys wanted to play with "the mini-bosses"," Stone answered. 

Of course, they did. They went nuts when Spider was announced, and now they get to play with his nieces. 

He'll have to join them. And Delta too. 

Spider jumped over Mansk, slowing so that Robin could catch up slightly. 

Of the girls, Robin was the more adventurous and outgoing. She was eager to compete with Spider, asking him millions of questions about her big cousin. 

Robin was excited to learn as much as possible. She was eccentric and extroverted, a lot like how Lo'ak was. It was crazy to know he was related to the girl; Spider lacked a relative until Miles' sudden return. 

"When I grow up, I'm gonna ride one of those Direhorse things!" Robin exclaimed, attempting to jump over the napping Recom.

She tripped, falling onto his stomach and rolling onto the sand. 

Ed coughed, surprised by the sudden kid scrambling to her feet beside him. She shook the sand from her hair and the front of her mask, unphased. 

He shook his head, grumbling about being careful or something. The only support he got was Ja laughing at him. 

"A Pa'li," Spider corrected, unsure how she planned on doing that. "They're big."

"Like the banshees?" she questioned, nodding to a snoozing Whiskey. "I wanna ride one of them, too. How do you get one?"

"Almost dying," Spider answered, a tightness growing in his chest. The weight of the knife attached to his pants suddenly grew. 

Spider almost got the only man that wants to be his father killed. 

He had been combative and aggressive to Miles, and that man took it all without question. No matter how irritating Spider was, Miles always came back. 

Since hanging by Miles' side, Spider was learning many things, not only about his mother. Humans were complicated, and the na'vi weren't a monolith. 

A few months ago, he would've recoiled from Robin. The girl's family was with the RDA and was doing unknown but probably terrible research on the native sealife. Her mother was the sister of the man that destroyed Hometree - she has demon blood, as Neytiri would say. 

He thought about Lo'ak and the talk that Miles gave him, adding more weight to that knife. 

Robin was only a year younger than Lo'ak, but he was her age when he started joining the raids. And the image of a gun or even a little knife in Robin's hands made him feel nauseous. 

She knew nothing of war, and nor should she. All Robin wanted to do was play and explore. 

Jesse, the timider of the two, wouldn't last long in a fight. She shouldn't ever have to hold a gun or even a bow. 

Is that what Miles sees when he looks at Spider? A kid that should never see battle and should enjoy life?

"Damn. And all these guys did it? Cool!" Robin grinned, not understanding the seriousness of what Spider said.

Had she ever experienced death? It didn't seem like it. 

"Yeah, it is," he agreed, slowly understanding Miles' perspective.

Robin was tiny compared to him, but her personality was large and proud. 

She reminded him a little of Miles, albeit little and a girl. And less mentally scarred. 

Jesse is less suited for a fighting scenario. All she wanted to do was build a "sand castle" with the Recoms and play with them. A mere year wouldn't change that. 

She should never be given a gun. 

"Do you wanna see him?" 

Robin swivelled, looking up at Lyle. 

The Recom whistled, earning Whiskey's attention. The Ikran waddled to them, croaking towards his rider. Interestingly, Cupcake joined him, tilting her head at Robin. 

She beamed, ecstatic to be so close to an animal she's probably only seen on video or at a distance. 

Whiskey chirped, lowering his head, letting her pet him. He wasn't bright, but he was gentle; Shredder or Firefly wouldn't be so friendly. 

Watching his cousin interact with an animal that Spider had spent his entire life around was interesting. She was in awe, giggling as her fingers glided across his skin. 

Noticing the interaction, Lopez and Z-Dog brought Jesse to them. She clung to Lopez's leg, intimidated by her. 

Cupcake croaked, bobbing her head to make Z-Dog take some steps back. The leading Ikran lowered her head, trills vibrating from her throat. 

Spider patted the top of her head, encouraging Jesse to do it as well. 

His timid cousin reached her hand out, lightly touching the proud flyer. 

It was unusual for Ikran to be so intrigued by people other than their riders. All of the ones in the Omaticaya kept to themselves, almost isolated. They weren't allowed to frolic and mess about like these. 

"You alright, Changuito?" Lopez asked, patting Spider's back. "Didn't expect to meet the boss' kid sister, let alone her kids." 

He wasn't expecting it either, even after Miles told him. 

Spider didn't know what to anticipate when meeting his relatives. And they confused him because how were they even here? 

The girls and little Finn were too young for cryo. He got told all his life that he only stayed with the scientists and McCoskers because he couldn't leave; he was too little. But they're here. 

Did the RDA discover a way to transport children? 

"How did they bring you to Pandora?" Spider asked.

His question caused Lyle's expression to change. He knew something. Whatever it was, Z-Dog and Lopez weren't privy to it. 

Not knowing Spider's predicament or why Lyle seemed anxious, Robin broke Spider's world. 

"What do you mean? They did the usual," Robin said, oblivious to the gravity of her words. "A year in cryo and a year out. So long as it's not like a newborn baby or something, it's doable. Been doable for like two decades or something." 

Usual. 

For twenty years, you could send babies in cryo. But that didn't make sense. They told Spider for years that babies can't go into cryo; they kept him because of that. 

"Spider," Lyle said, his tone strange and firm. 

Robin and Jesse looked at him, confused. 

The world was closing in, threatening to swallow him whole. Everything in Spider told him to go.

They always told him that. They always said they had no choice but to keep him, that Spider was a burden they generously accepted. It wasn't their choice that he stayed; Spider was an unexpected consequence of banishing the evil RDA. 

So much was falling apart. 

They told Spider how terrible and evil his father was for his whole life. He was an uncaring monster that hurt the na'vi people. They said the soldiers were all crooked, and only a few select humans were trustworthy. 

He was told many things that didn't match what he knew now. 

Miles was incredible and made Spider feel safer. He showed Spider how to look after himself and even gave him his knife. He listened to Spider, always willing to hear from him. 

All of the Recoms liked to listen to him. He wasn't a burden to them. They weren't crooked faceless evil; they were people with stories and admirable loyalty to their friends. 

Nothing made sense anymore. 

What did this mean? What was real anymore?

They didn't have to keep him. If that were the case, why did nobody want Spider? Why was he always an unwanted burden? 

What did he do to earn such cold isolation?

The teenager returned to his body, his lungs burning. He looked around, confused and unfamiliar with the environment. He felt exhausted, almost as though he'd run a mile. 

Spider didn't know where he was, although it had to be on the island somewhere. He didn't mean to run blindly; his body went into fight or flight. 

He could hear waves, so he was close to the beach. One of them, at least. 

Cautiously, Spider made his way towards the wave sound. He passed some trees and bushes, finding the expanse of ocean, only the sun was far lower than before. How long had he been running? 

While standing on the beach, Spider heard something. He turned, watching a strange creature pull itself from the rolling water. It was massive, more than the Ilu and Sushi. 

It looked like a giant Ilu mixed with a Nantang. 

The hulking sea animal yawned, its jaw unhinging and rows of dark blue teeth sticking out. Several gill-like openings flared along its neck, its kuru curling towards its mouth. Strangely, the animal appeared to be grooming its kuru, something Spider had never seen before. 

The gills opened wildly, a sucking sound causing something to drop in his stomach. Two pairs of glowing green eyes snapped to Spider, realising his presence. 

It began to hiss, flaps over its monstrous maw pulling up threateningly. 

Whatever it was, it was a predator, and Spider was in its sights. 

Spider started running, hearing the beast pushing itself behind him. It had a long neck, so he would have to keep a distance from it. 

Although it was a large animal meant for the sea, it wasn't slow. He could hear it gnashing behind him, hissing and growling, hungry for him. 

Panicking, Spider jumped to a tree, clambering up it, ignoring any splinters from the unfamiliar wood. It wasn't like the many-branched trees in the jungle; it had no branches, only a trunk to cling to. 

The animal hissed, pressing its large body against the tree, pushing it. That long neck made him scoot upwards, narrowly missing its teeth. 

Why did he have to be a useless idiot and run off? He always had to be a pain, a burden. 

A roar from above flushed away his growing terror. 

Spider caught the beautiful golden vein pattern of Cupcake's wings as she descended, her talons locking into the beast's gills. The Ikran roared with threatening might, bellowing to her flock. 

Miles jumped from her back, only a few feet below Spider. The Recom held his arm out, motioning for Spider to come down to him. 

Even though Miles already said he wouldn't yell at Spider, how could he? Spider was an idiot and put himself in danger. 

Despite that, the teenager climbed down, feeling Miles pull him close to his body. Without hesitation, Miles jumped from the tree. 

Cupcake snapped at the animal, blood running down its neck. The beast struck back, its teeth grazing her throat. 

It looked up as Firefly pounced, coming to Cupcake's defence. With backup, the pair bit into the beast, punishing it for attacking one of their flock. 

Once Miles put Spider down, the teen crumpled. He would've fallen to the sand, but Miles held him, letting him lean into him. 

"Hey, kid," Miles said, gently lifting Spider's head. He probably looked like crap, all red-faced and teared up like a toddler. "You ok?"

No anger or annoyance in his voice or bright yellow eyes. There wasn't a hint of irritation at Spider for being an idiot. 

A victorious Cupcake and Firefly left the forest, waiting for them. Cupcake had a new wound on her neck, but she sported it with pride. 

"Did you know?" Spider whimpered, hating how his voice sounded so weak. "That they kept me?"

"Only recently," the Recom admitted, his ears flattening sympathetically. 

"If they kept me, why did they hate me?" the teen cried, shaking with frustration and heartbreak. "Why!?"

"I don't know," Miles sighed, his understanding only making it hurt more. "My only idea why is some backwards way of spiting me, like you were a hostage or somethin'. Whatever the bullshit reason they deluded, it wasn't good enough to hurt you so much. They knew better than to blame such a sweet kid for something he had no part in." 

Why else would they keep Spider but spit in the face of the "demon"?

The very demon that was trying to comfort Spider. 

"No matter what I did, it wasn't good enough," he added, tears stinging his eyes, the tightness growing in his chest. It felt hard to breathe. "I tried to look like them. I-I did everything!"

"I know," Miles said softly, lightly pulling Spider against his body. The teen pressed his head against the man's chest, his heartbeat rumbling in his ribcage. "And none of that is your fault. You're a strong kid, Spider, and I'm very proud of the man you're becoming. Don't let their bullshit take that from you." 

Proud of him. 

"What's there to be proud of?" Spider mumbled, hiding his face in Miles' shirt. 

"What isn't there?" the man chuckled, his tail making indentations in the sand. "I was proud from the moment you called me a dipshit. You gave that bitch nothing, even when those people don't deserve your loyalty; it's admirable. No matter what, you're always ready, like a lil' spitfire. And even with all that bite, you're kind, and that's something to be treasured, as is all of you. Your mama would be so proud of you."

Months ago, Spider would've demanded to go home. But for all the years with them, it was never home, was it?

This, though?

Being held by the demon so hated and loathed by the na'vi, the people he looked up to, made that word mean something. 

This is home. 

Chapter Text

He felt like an idiot. 

Spider got Cupcake hurt. Although she was proud of her bandages, he knew from Neytiri that losing an Ikran partner was unimaginable. He almost did that to Miles. 

Firefly could've gotten hurt as well. As usual, she was cold and aloof, only allowing Mansk to get near her. He didn't understand the Recombinants' Ikran; they're very expressive and individualistic. They have behaviours similar to people. 

There's something about watching the Recoms interact with the Ikran like they're friends; there's an unspoken bond, an agreement to stay loyal. Even the anti-social Firefly came to Cupcake's side when she needed help; she protected Spider and Miles, too. 

It's not the na'vi way, but the gang aren't na'vi. They're a strange fusion of sky people and na'vi, a peculiar middle ground. 

He's not na'vi, either. They never accepted Spider nor wanted him. They reminded him of that constantly. 

Even so, they kept him, be it as a hostage or a sick trophy, he didn't know. 

No wonder nothing was ever good enough. It didn't matter how hard Spider tried to be like the people; they only saw him as a demon. He was a prisoner of war, an insult to the people that perished, and revenge against his parents.

Kiri and Lo'ak were his only friends, fellow black sheep who didn't fit in. They understood him. He was there when they got their Ikran and always watched over Kiri whenever she had one of her weird moments. 

Tsahik Mo'at was kind to him. Outside of his friends, she showed the most intrigue in him, teaching him about the Yovo berries. She was wise, and he loved to listen to her stories. 

For a while, Spider wanted to go back to those people. Not Kiri, Lo'ak and Mo'at, but the others who chose for him. 

Jake, Max, and Norm knew that Spider could've gone with somebody that loved and wanted him. They knew his father wasn't as evil as they used to say. 

Or, more likely, they had no idea who he was. They didn't even know his mother's name. 

The way that Miles held Spider couldn't be the act of a demon. Demons do not feel love or the touch of Eywa. 

Spider felt safe with Miles. Every word was like a drop of water after being left in a desert. The man cared about Spider, as did the whole squad. They wanted him safe and supported.

Jake is supposed to be the good guy, Toruk Makto, but he killed the people that loved Spider and chose to keep him. Why keep Spider if he didn't want him? 

A part of him felt angry at Jake.

Spider wouldn't have gotten left with the scientists and McCoskers if he didn't kill Miles. 

Miles wouldn't push Spider to join a battlefield. He wouldn't leave Spider alone in the jungle or blame him for the actions of others. He didn't yell at Spider or expect him to change to suit him. 

Why was the man he was supposed to hate so much more than Jake was? To him, and as he's discovered, Lo'ak. 

When Lo'ak messes up, Jake yells at him. That's what Spider thought all marine fathers are like, but Miles isn't. 

If Miles, who is meant to be a monstrous demon, didn't yell at Spider and chastise him, why did Jake? 

It's not that Miles is a great person. He's done bad things; Spider knew that. 

Jake doesn't look like such a paragon anymore. He's got good and bad parts, and Spider was too blind to accept the latter. 

Was he that desperate for a father figure? Yeah, it seemed like it. 

He didn't have to look far now. 

"Not at all!" Ja joked, chewing his breakfast. "And we all know that Goku could kick Superman's ass. Don't kid yourselves."

"Not this again," Jade huffed, rubbing her forehead. "He got his ass kicked by heart disease. How would he beat Superman?"

Spider was confused; he didn't understand who they were talking about. It seemed heated, though. 

"Super Saiyan Jubilee could fold Superman like a pretzel," Noah Prager insisted, earning a high five from Javier. "The name is still stupid, but it's ultra cool." 

"That's it. I'm ending this," Ed Mansk sighed, annoyed that his breakfast was interrupted. "The girl from Death Note would solo them both." 

The trio erupted into an argument, refusing to heed whoever Ed was talking about. 

Spider sat quietly as his new family bickered over either fictional characters or real people. It was hard to tell sometimes. 

"Listen to me, idiots," Mansk interrupted, annoyed. "All Misa Amane needs is to see them, and she has their name. A little jot in her note and bang, they're both dead. Can we get back to food?"

"Who are these people?" Spider asked, watching Ed shake his head with frustration. 

"Fictional characters," Jade answered, her ears twitching. "Paz would've agreed with me."

"Paz also believed that Pinky was the genius and Brain was the insane one," Prager argued. 

"Now, hold on. That's a damn good theory," Ja added, getting a grunt from his friend. "I mean it!"

These are somehow supposed to be evil?

Spider noticed someone running in the back of the mess hall. It looked like the weird girl, Delta. 

He knew that was a codename the soldiers and scientists used. It wasn't a human name. Why she had such a name was beyond him, as was the way she walked and glared at people. 

Curious, he observed as she trailed behind an unaware Bruno. He didn't alert the Recom, instead choosing to see what would happen. 

Delta grinned as she grabbed Lopez's tail, yanking back. The Recom yelped, startled, dropping his food tray in surprise. 

"¡Chinga tu madre, cabrón!" Lopez yelled, furious with the grinning teen. 

Her behaviour is like a na'vi child initiating play, similar to what he did with Kiri. The gentle pull of a tail, though Spider would have to pull harder as he's a human.

She did it the same way, even reaching for the middle of the tail instead of the lower end; that risked degloving, 

With the Recoms distracted, Spider walked towards the intriguing teen. 

"You lived with Na'vi?" he asked, pleased by the light in her eyes. 

He was confused when she started running, only stopping to check on him. She motioned for him to follow her. 

Interested, Spider heeded her, having to sprint after the surprisingly fast Delta. She knew the building well, hopping through doorways and only slowing to ensure he was still behind her. 

Although Delta wasn't heavily built like Spider, her body was better for swimming than climbing. She must know the sea as well as he knows the trees. The animal that attacked him wouldn't be foreign to her; she might've known what to do. 

She didn't run up the stairs but clambered up the gap between them, taking herself to the upper levels. Not wanting to be out staged, Spider climbed after her, wanting to show his skills. 

Her dark eyes sparkled, grinning at him. She gripped the railing, supporting herself as she lightly touched his forehead, dragging her fingers down his nose. A playful gesture, the scarring on her throat suddenly making sense; she can't speak. 

He finished the gesture, lightly touching her bottom lip and dragging down her chin, accepting her. 

"I see you, Delta," Spider smiled, happy to have someone else like him. Her tattoos were fascinating; who gave them to her? 

Delta motioned the gesture back to him, her dimples showing. She quickly blew air in his face before climbing again, sliding over the railing at the desired level. 

When he finally got to her, she was already going through a door with odd colours. 

He entered, curious as to what he'd find. He didn't expect them, though. 

"Hey, it's the new kid," smiled somebody in a wheelchair. Spider had only seen those in pictures, never in person. "You're the guy the girls told us about - Spider, right?"

Spider nodded, watching Delta move her hands quickly. So, she communicates via sign language? 

He couldn't tell if they were female or male; they looked like both, but none.

The wheelchair was a contraption made with metal, an item the na'vi were forbidden from using. The use of wheels was also against the na'vi way. 

"My name is Li," they introduced, holding their hand out. Spider took it, having seen this action with the Recoms. "Delta's got nice things to say. You're Doctor Taylor's nephew, huh?"

"Yeah," he answered, curious about "Li". Their facial features didn't match the humans he'd seen before. "I haven't been able to speak with her yet."

He was worried. 

Scarlett knew everything about Miles and was close to him. Part of Spider feared that now she was here, Miles wouldn't need him anymore, regardless of how stupid that was. If it were true, Miles wouldn't have gone looking for him. 

Delta grabbed Spider's wrist, pulling him past Li. 

"What is this?" Spider asked, looking to the androgynous person for answers. 

"It's like a hangout for the workers' children," Li answered, wheeling beside him. The room is colourful and filled with odd things to play with. "It keeps us out of the way, y'know?"

Spider was always forced out of the way, but he didn't have a room dedicated to it. 

Pictures of cartoonish characters were on the walls, and children's paintings were hung up. There are photos of the kids and their parents. There are games and such on shelves, waiting for them to interact with. In a shelving unit were lots of artsy things. 

It's all specifically for kids to preoccupy them. He would've loved all of this as a child. 

A young man left a bathroom door, his skin was dark, and his eyes were even darker. The stranger waved at Li, and Spider noticed the metal left leg. How was that possible?

Delta signed to him, her giggling sounding like a hiss. 

"Name's Sterling," he introduced, doing the handshake with Spider. "Never seen a prosthetic before?"

"Robbie said he was raised with na'vi, so I don't think so," Li shrugged, going past him. "Don't let Valtazar trick him!" they ordered, entering the bathroom as Sterling held the door for them. 

Robbie is Robin. 

Thinking about his cousin twisted his stomach. It wasn't her fault he was so upset; she didn't know. 

"We learned to speak it for Delta's sake," Sterling said, his na'vi rough but decent. "Well, the kids did. Our parents are busy studying and researching stuff."

"She can't speak?"

"No, sadly. She was part of some weird experiment to make people breathe air; fucked up her vocal cords. She's like, one-tenth na'vi or something," Sterlin shrugged, following her hand signs. "She likes your dad. I saw a bit of him yesterday; he's massive." 

Miles is unnaturally large in height and musculature. He could easily weigh over nine-hundred pounds or so. He didn't move like it, however. 

Delta's backstory was interesting, though. 

"Can she breathe the air outside?"

"For a couple of minutes," he answered, pointing to a doorless frame. "The others are through here. We're watching a movie."

Delta scurried through, eager to watch the "movie". 

"I haven't seen any."

"Oh, well, this can be your first. It's Godzilla: King of the Monsters. I like the first one more, but it's still cool." 

Spider gets to watch his first proper movie with others his age. And they're also human, so he's not out of place.

Being six-foot and covered in blue stripes made him look weird compared to them, but they didn't seem to mind. 

Sterling is friendly. Spider could have a human friend that's his age.

That's weirdly exciting. 

Sterling showed Spider into the "movie corner". The others were all sitting on a "sofa" with "popcorn", waiting for him and Li. They all greet Spider, including his cousin, Robin. 

According to his cousin, Jesse didn't like scary movies, not that Spider knew what that meant. 

She moved to the side, making space, shoving a girl with a cloth around her hair. The girl chastised her, but a boy lying on the floor stuck his tongue out at her, his eyes weird and cloudy. 

Spider sat beside his cousin, worried that he had scared her earlier. She offered her bowl of food to him; it smelled strange. 

"Godzilla is one of my favourites," Robin said, shaking the bowl to him. "It's toffee popcorn, the best of them all!"

"Bullshit. Extra buttery is the best," argued a feminine-looking boy, their skin lighter than Sterling's but patchy with pale spots. "Ignore Vatlazar down there. He's grumpy."

"I'm not grumpy," Valtazar huffed, his cloudy eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. "Can we get started? I want to hear monsters screaming."

Sterling made his spot on the floor, Delta nestling next to him. They waited a few more moments for Li to come in.

Spider watched Li park beside the sofa, excited to see this "Godzilla" thing. 

Hesitantly, Spider took one of Robin's popped corn, chewing it in his mouth. It's sweet and a strange combination of soft and crunchy. He wanted more of it. 

With everybody together, Sterling pressed a button on the dark rectangle, making the big screen start playing images. 

So, this is what it feels like to be around other kids?

The animal - who the natives call a Txänok - that attacked his boy wasn't even an adult, merely an adolescent.

From the water quacks' information on the species, they're like elephants, matriarchal pods only interacting with males during mating seasons, the bulls getting kicked out at maturity. They're also aggressive towards humans and na'vi alike.

One of them, a lady named Xuefeng, said they're Pandora's equivalent to orcas. Annoyingly, Ja was right; Earth used to have evil oreo dolphins. 

However, it was unusual for a Txänok to even beach itself, let alone attack whilst on land. 

After an autopsy on the remains, the quacks discovered something interesting. The individual had scars correlating with the spear marks of a familiar clan name.

The Kxeìnge - the same assholes who attacked the Muolhaweng, who hurt his boy and abandoned Sushi. 

Unlike the other sea people, the Kxeìnge use na'vi bones as blades, leaving unique traces and tells. They also "tame" beings with less than harmonic methods. 

The adolescent that went after Spider was probably an escaped or abandoned tool of that clan, tortured into being exceptionally more aggressive than usual.

Some scars could be traced to early youth; the poor bastard was tormented since birth. 

As much as Quaritch felt anger at his boy being attacked, he felt sympathy for the creature. It was a slave doing what it was trained to do, much like the soldiers and quacks under the RDA. 

"We've encountered them before," Quaritch growled, ears flicking back. "Sounds like the ocean's version of the Ayroa I dealt with."

He fucking hated the Ayroa. 

"Not all of the na'vi follow Eywa or her aspects, and there are those that follow certain parts a little too harshly," said a scientist named Roman. He was a big guy and looked better suited for a gun than a tablet. "The Kxeìnge aren't any of those. They follow something else."

Quaritch doesn't know a lot of things. He knew that the Ayroa didn't follow Eywa; he didn't look into it. As the sea people believe in Ngaknay, they could've followed something else. 

He's never heard of this "something else", however. 

"And that'd be?" Quaritch inquired, his tail coiling behind him. Lyle seemed more curious than frustrated. 

"We don't know its name. It's forbidden to speak. The na'vi call it "Raktsä" - the Demon," Xuefeng answered.

He's familiar with the term.

Neytiri was fond of calling him that, though he didn't understand the meaning.

So, these lunatics follow the Demon. Whatever it is, it's separate from Eywa. Is it like a god and devil situation? 

"Ominous," Lyle commented, his arms crossed. "I'm guessing that god doesn't give out lollipops."

"It's not a god," Roman said, shaking his head. "According to their mythology, Eywa was "whole", and she battled the Raktsä. She won, but the price was "fracturing", creating the aspects such as Ngaknay."

"Barely won," Xuefeng corrected. "She put the Raktsä into a sleep-like state. The stories say that it's buried somewhere, trapped. The Kxeìnge people believe it was here first, and Eywa usurped it. To them, any that follow Eywa or her aspects are the enemy." 

Even on some random moon, billions of miles away from Earth, religion is still an unnecessary problem. 

Quaritch getting compared to a being that the Kxeìnge revere was insulting. He never tortured the animals or went out of his way to slaughter people. It was either under orders or a reaction; he had people to protect. 

When he got ordered to launch a preemptive strike and destroy the pink tree, it was easier to heed than burning that massive tree. It was akin to when he disintegrated the Ayroa's village; it was a warning to stop hunting his people. 

He had buried too many people. And he was sick of Grace's excuses.

The Omaticaya had gone from negligent bystanders to active threats, even if their anger was justified. He had a job to do. 

It's bad enough that the RDA was exploiting these people, let alone these sycophants. 

"Outstanding," the Colonel gruffed, unimpressed with this group. "Got a profile on the head lunatics?"

"Their leader is Payämawa, and his wife, Teyivayva. They're a problem, but their son, Laniakea, is particularly nasty," Roman answered, looking uncomfortable at saying their names. "He's unusually violent, even for his clan. Likely, you're already a target of his."

"Can't say about the na'vi devil, but we can introduce him to ours," Lyle warned, sounding almost challenged. "He's never seen a pissed-off marine before." 

Oorah to that. 

He should ask an important question. 

"I'm going to be blunt with you folk since you're close with Little Bug. You loyal to the RDA?" Quaritch asked, ears perked and primed for an answer. 

As expected, the question was difficult for them. 

It was imperative, however. He had no intention of following Ardmore or the RDA like a dog. 

He never liked them. All they thought about was money. For ages, Quaritch lived fine without copious amounts; it was plain greed. It was never something he cared about. 

At most, he wanted money for his sisters. As painful as it was knowing Ellie was gone, he was grateful to see Scarlett doing so well. How she got caught up with the RDA, he couldn't fathom. Whoever set their vulture eyes on his baby sis would have them plucked out, that was for sure. 

She'll always be his Little Bug, the baby he'd have to rock to sleep and help learn how to walk. 

He has a lot more now. He's got the squad, Spider, her, the banshees, her children and a chance at a better life. That was motivation enough to kick the RDA where the sun doesn't shine and carve out a home in the sea. 

Quaritch wanted to be part of his sister's life. He raised her to spit in the face of people like the RDA; he didn't believe her loyal to them. Even Ian and Scoresby didn't care. He didn't know about her colleagues, however. 

These people were friendly with her, his nieces and his nephew. Their answer would determine whether or not he'd let them stay. 

Any loyal to the RDA by choice was a threat to his people. 

"Will this be on the record, Colonel?" Roman asked. 

"Only on mine, Doc," Quaritch answered, tail swaying behind him.

Lyle cocked a smirk, knowing what Quaritch was looking for. 

"No," Xuefeng answered, more confident than her companion. "You're not loyal either."

"They can kiss our newly blue asses," Lyle added, ears twitching upwards. "It's easy how they snagged us jarheads. How'd they get their claws in your lot?"

That's a good question. 

"Officially, we were desperate for a ticket off Earth," Roman said, crossing his arms, mirroring Lyle's stance. "Off the books, we're all part of a resistance group hoping to tear the RDA down from the inside out." 

"We were under Talon for a while but splintered off. We're Crimson Fin," she continued with a hand confidently on her hip. 

Quaritch knew all about Talon. They were one of the many terrorist groups that formed in space seeking separation from Earth governments. He learned about Crimson Fin while on Pandora; until now, he didn't believe they were connected. 

Although he had extensive knowledge of Talon, Crimson Fin was annoyingly secretive. Their leader was known only as Blackfish, a cunning strategist. 

It shouldn't be a surprise that a resistance group infiltrated the RDA.

"I think this will work just dandy," Quaritch grinned, pleased with the news. "I take it y'all have some soldier training plus them quack doctorates?"

"We can shoot if that's what you mean," Roman smirked, pleased as well. "We might have to start calling you Bluefish."

"And why would that be?"

"Scarlett is Blackfish," Xuefeng answered. 

Well, shit. 

His little sister went from an idealistic rioter to an infamous leader.

He's so proud of her. 

It's in their blood to be a pain in the ass. 

"That'll be Colonel Bluefish to you, Roman. I think I can send a report to the General, somethin' about requiring a more secure base of operations. We'll be sticking around for a while." 

He's got allies, it's perfect for the banshees, and his son had somewhere safe to stay. It's perfect. 

And he gets to see tiny Finn. 

"Oorah," Lyle smiled, visibly excited to stay. 

Oorah, indeed. 

He couldn't be happier. They get to stay here instead of that shitty ship!

Seeing the boss with his nephew was disgustingly adorable.

Miles is massive compared to the toddler. He could hold Finn with one finger. 

Finn chased Miles' tail, constantly calling him "Kitty". It's like Boo and the blue monster Sullivan from that Monsters movie - Mei loved that film. 

He remembered watching the Colonel with Spider, the boy holding his father's fingers as he helped him learn to walk. Paz would be sitting across from them, clapping her hands to her baby boy. Fike and Z-Dog would be behind Paz, egging little junior on. 

It reminded him of his time with his little ones.

Matthew would cling to his mom's legs when he started walking, waddling like a penguin. It was a great moment of pride to watch his son take his first steps alone; he balled like a baby with Mei. 

Although he didn't outright say it to Spider, he told Miles. Twice, technically. It didn't feel good, but he appreciated that Miles didn't treat him differently. 

Unfortunately, Lyle was struggling to do the same. 

He's always been amazed by the Colonel, but those feelings were continuously growing. There wasn't a limit, annoyingly. 

How could one man look so amazing, both as human and Recom? No matter what, Miles always proved to have something glowing about him. He was downright radiant with confidence, pride and an indomitable will, able to go through hell and stay standing. 

It's something that Lyle admired - even more now that he knew Miles' history. 

The more he learned about the man, the more he felt something blossom in his chest. Lesser men would go through Operation Bloodstone and come out ruined, a shell of a person. 

To come out with your soul intact is incredible. 

And those vulnerable moments, admitting to being afraid for his son, was downright attractive. Something about being unapologetically worried for one's child is a trait that Lyle liked in people. 

He doesn't want to feel these things. 

"Lyle, is it?" came a female voice - Scarlett's. 

When Lyle took his attention away from Miles, he saw her smile.

In her eyes was a glint of deviousness; he's seen that enough times in his sisters' eyes. She's scheming something. 

"Nice to meet you, Blackfish," Lyle smirked, watching her face grow in amusement. She looked like the Colonel when she did that. "Boss is babysitting little Finn."

"And you're watching them both," she added, sounding too knowing for his liking. "My brother is oblivious to it, but I'm not, Lieutenant."

Well, shit. 

"Am I obvious?"

"Only to those that don't know how to look," Scarlett shrugged, sitting beside him. The Colonel was too focused on the toddler to pay attention to them. "How did you two meet, anyway?"

"He saved my life. Our Valkyrie crashed, and he dragged my ass for eighteen days to Hell's Gate. Even fist-fought a Thanator. Been at his side since," Lyle answered, still remembering how disgusting that beast tasted. "It was a tough twelve years before we died." 

So much happened. It's baffling to think that it happened fourteen years ago. 

"It was difficult to hear when he died," Scarlett admitted, her voice unusually cold; she was distancing herself from those feelings. "I regretted so much after that. It hurt more when Robin started to act so much like him." 

"I know how that is," he said, paying close attention to her. "He's not doing as great as he looks. The Colonel's always been good at hiding it, but it's a lot. He's struggling." 

"Milly's always been like that. If you can see that much, perhaps you could support him?"

"Is that your way of giving your blessing, Doc?" Lyle joked, chuckling for a moment.

He stopped when he felt her grasp his head-tail.

"Hurt my brother, and God themselves can't save you from what I'll do."

The woman's warm eyes had turned scorching, promising Lyle he'd be better off in hell than meet her wrath. She looked like her brother in that instant, and not only because they shared features - it was proof that he raised her into the woman she was.

She wasn't the Blackfish for empty threats; she would find a way to keep her word if Lyle messed up somehow. 

Warning received and understood. 

He didn't intend to hurt the Colonel; he's got more than enough of those wounds. Regardless of Lyle's intent, however, his sister would be watching like a hawk. 

Lyle's sisters would've done the same to Miles if in reversed positions. 

He admittedly threatened many of his sisters' potential partners, even beating one for threatening Jenny; nobody was allowed to be mean to Jenny. 

"Ma!" Finn yelled, excited to see his mother. 

Scarlett joined her baby, picking him up and kissing his forehead. 

"Somebody's naptime is coming soon," she smiled, watching as he waved at the Colonel. "He loves you, Milly." 

"He ain't nearly as difficult as you were," Miles joked, still taller than her despite sitting on the floor. "The things you used to get into, Little Bug. You got your hand stuck in one of Trevor's bottles once." 

"I can only imagine," Scarlett sighed, patting Finn's back. "After your nap, you can play more with uncle Milly."

"Mil!"

"That's right, sweetie."

Oh god, he's so cute. 

And Miles' sweet expression towards his nephew was adorable, the way his ears were perked and when his grin reached his eyes. He loved how the Colonel's feline nose scrunched when he was smiling. It looked more akin to a rabbit's nose than a cat's.

Then there's the little fang that pokes over his lip. 

He was honestly glad that Prager and Mansk interrupted them. He could feel his body start reacting to seeing Miles in such a positive mood - for some reason, his smile was hot as hell. 

"Sir, we got a problem," Mansk said, his sunglasses almost falling off. 

It was sad to see Miles slip into Colonel mode, though it's also inspiring. 

He's very conflicted at the moment. 

"Proceed, Corporal," Quaritch stated as he got up, towering over everybody. 

"A Kestrel Gunship landed on the SeaDragon - Scoresby is having a meltdown," Prager answered, tail flicking behind him. 

When isn't Scoresby freaking out about not being allowed to hunt Tulkun or whatever those things are called? 

It wasn't an issue getting outside. Having alien lungs meant they didn't need those stupid masks anymore. 

Z-Dog was already waiting for them, weapon in hands and ready to unload hell. Like usual, she's chewing gum, blowing a bubble. 

He didn't like this. Something in his gut told him to be cautious, and on his toes, ears raised and alert. 

As the five of them waited, they were perplexed by a blue head poking from the SeaDragon, followed quickly by another. 

"What in the Lady Liberty's undies is that?" Mansk questioned, confused. 

Five strangers climbed from the ship onto the beach. Since they were dressed in RDA military gear, they were either avatars or Recombinants. 

Given their predicament, they're probably the latter. However, Lyle was told others weren't ready to activate for another year or so. 

Where did these come from?

One looked vaguely familiar, though her body was even more confusing. Unlike the rest, her body mirrored that of the sea people. 

"Afternoon, sir," said one with an English accent; it was obnoxiously posh. Most English that Lyle interacted with never sounded like that. "General Ardmore said that she sent word of our arrival. I'm correct in presuming you didn't receive that message?"

"No," Quaritch scowled, tail lashing behind him.

As if sensing their riders' growing uncertainty, Quicksilver, Firefly, Cupcake, Gwyllgi, and Whiskey descended from the skies, landing behind them. Shredder and Zelda roared from above, promising to provide backup if necessary. 

The banshees were mighty and loyal; he had a lot of respect for them, even the grouchy Firefly. 

While the Englishman was disturbed by the banshees' presence, the others were far more curious and amazed. 

"I thought she was pulling my leg when she said you had Ikran," came an Irishman with a large grin. "Sorry, where are my manners? I'm Doctor Talisien O'brien. I'm a xeno-zoologist and a trauma medic. Lieutenant Brett Reed's already introduced himself - sort of."

"G'day, I'm Lucy Kane. I'm your sniper specialist," smirked an Australian lass. She held her hand out to Lyle, ears flicking up. "Heard you're a bloody good marksman yourself." 

While Lyle didn't like Reed, Kane seemed alright. She had an air of camaraderie. He happily shook her hand, impressed with her firm grip. 

The largest of them, roughly the Colonel's height, leaned over Lucy with a grin. She was built like a brick wall, a walking tank of a woman. She had a high-powered Gatling gun attached to her back, even chunkier than Mansk's. 

"Röskva Arondóttir. I've heard many good things," she said, her cheekbones sharp enough to cut paper. "Rey-Rey here gave us a full briefing on what to expect from you, Colonel. Glad to be under you."

Rey-Rey?

No fucking way was that the Rey-Rey. 

"Been a while, fellas," she squeaked, affirming her identity. Tossing caution aside, Z-Dog and Prager lunged, lifting Reyah into the air. "Whoa, guys! Good to see you too!"

Reyah El-Samara was of the better quacks like Holly Dawson. She studied the na'vi under Augustine but was more realistic about them. She was utterly devastated when Zesìk died. 

It was good to have a familiar face, even if her Recombinant body was confusing. 

The Colonel didn't look so happy to have five new squad members. Honestly, Lyle felt the same. 

Deja Blu isn't loyal to the RDA, and while they knew Reyah would be on their side, they don't know these four. They weren't at Hell's Gate at all. 

Lyle would've recognised a big girl like Arondóttir or a spunky lass like Kane - Lyle knew all of the snipers at Hell's Gate, and she wasn't one of them.  

It shouldn't be surprising that the RDA got other schmucks to sign up for Project Phoenix. Unfortunately, it meant that these four were wild cards and potential threats. 

They want to leave the RDA and chill on Pandora. Until they've dissected these rookies and weed out any loyalists, things are going to be difficult. 

Spider's either going to be thrilled or annoyed by this. 

Chapter Text

There's so much to do. 

When Miles said that they'd be staying for a while, Spider was ecstatic. He got to hang out with his new friends, play games and watch movies. It was awesome!

Deep down, Spider never wanted to leave. 

His new room was more spacious than the closet in the SeaDragon. The bed was far more comfortable. 

In the middle of the night, Delta snuck in, carrying some fruit from outside. She was excited to share them with him, and he liked her company. With some help from Sterling and Li, Spider was learning the sea sign language that Delta used. 

Another way to talk was by typing on a datapad, though it took time to figure out how to use it. 

It felt like she could see him. She understood what it meant to be of the people trapped in a human body, although she wasn't entirely human - she could survive outside, even for a few minutes. 

If Spider lost his mask, he'd be dead in a minute at most. 

Even so, it was nice to talk to somebody who knew the way of Pandora. If he asked, she might help teach the Recoms. 

Speaking of, something weird was going on. There were five new people, and Miles wouldn't let him meet them. 

While it wasn't odd to have a Recom nearby, they were on high alert. Everyone in the lab was. The adults were anxious about something, and he didn't know why. 

He had to wait until the morning to even talk to Miles; he was in soldier mode. 

"What's with the new guys?" Spider asked, hopping onto a table to be on an equal level with Mansk. "You can tell me, Eddie."

"Ardmore's sent them," Ed said, his shades obscuring his eyes. "We know Reyah's good but can't say about the other four. Colonel wants to make sure they're clean."

"They look clean."

"Not that kind," he clarified, ears flinching downwards. "He's concerned, and rightfully so, that there's a plant - one or all of them could be here to keep an eye on us." 

Weird.

"Alright, but why? You guys have been following orders and stuff."

Even if it's in a roundabout way, of course. 

They're doing what Ardmore wants. Why would they need someone to watch them? 

"Because we got no intention on keeping it that way, sport. Until we can split without major collateral, we're playing nice. If she gets word about our plans, however, things will go tits up, and it won't be pretty." 

"One of them could be a spy?" Spider questioned, understanding Miles' drastic change in attitude. "The RDA never used spies before."

"Of course, they have. That's how Sully got with the Omaticaya."

"What!?" Spider exclaimed, stunned by Mansk's matter-of-fact statement. 

"Sully spied on the Omaticaya for the Colonel; he had three months to tell the Omaticaya to leave before the tree got shot down. Colonel wanted a way to destroy it with minimal casualties - RDA would've burned it with them all inside if he weren't in charge. Only Sully didn't tell them shit until we were on our way. It was horrible watching that thing fall on all folk."

"You were there?"

"I was there," he said coldly, tail slowing. "I fired the missile that brought it down, your dad over my shoulder and your mama in a Scorpion next to us. The ride home was sombre and quiet; we had a small funeral out back, same for all the others that died thanks to the RDA." 

Spider didn't know what to say. 

It wasn't something one of the team would lie about. From how Mansk talked, it was clear he wasn't proud of this; he sounded remorseful. 

He knew the story - how Quaritch came and destroyed Hometree with a demon metal ship. His army destroyed it without hesitation and killed many of the people. 

It was almost a bedtime story, telling kids about the evil sky people and their horrible deeds.

How they felt nothing and did heinous things for the joy of it. 

But Mansk isn't like that. He was good to Spider and understandable, even if quiet sometimes. He's a friend and ally, possibly the only man on Pandora who Firefly actively liked. 

Eddie was there when the tree fell. He knew the other side of that story. He even destroyed the tree himself. 

None of those stories mentioned that Jake was a spy. He had three months to warn the clan; why didn't he? It didn't make sense to Spider. 

Did Norm and Max know? Did the other avatars? 

Ever since running into Miles at the shack, Spider's world was crumbling.

Perhaps not crumbling; it's being reshaped. He's getting more context and details from both sides. 

Slowly, Jake was becoming less of a divine figure, and the people working for the RDA weren't all spawns of The Demon. Nobody wanted any of this to happen. 

Whoever ran the RDA needed retribution for all that they did. 

"You held funerals for the na'vi?"

"We did. We buried na'vi and humans alike, and the Colonel insisted on digging each hole. There was a na'vi we all called a friend - her name was Zesìk of the Pämìawng. She'd tease the avatars endlessly, always curious and a jokester. She would've liked you."

Spider knew about all the jungle clans. He knew them off by heart. The Pämìawng were a peculiar group that didn't like the Omaticaya, especially when Jake took over. They refused to follow him as Toruk Makto. For some reason, they always refused to help the Omaticaya with anything. 

He knew there was history, but nobody could or would tell him. 

"What happened to her?" Spider asked, curious. 

There were no stories of how the soldiers were friends with na'vi, either. It was never even hinted at. 

Who was this na'vi that they were friends with? Why did Ed imply that she died?

"One day, we found a skinned and burned body outside the gates. We knew it was Zes, but a test confirmed it," his voice shivered a little at the recollection. "Once again, the Ayroa had killed one of us."

Oh, them. 

He knew about the Ayroa. They were sadistic people that did not See. They were to never go near their territory; it promised a painful death. 

They were feared by many. For a long time, they ruled the jungles, taming Nantang and using them to attack unsuspecting people. It was cruel and unnecessary. 

However, there was a mysterious event where the Ayroa was struck by a blight that forced them to move. Although there were far fewer of them, they were still a threat. They would attack Jake's hunting parties, taking the weapons and their "prey". 

Like their arch-enemies, the Pämìawng and Tipani, they did not respect Jake as Toruk Makto. 

"They slaughtered so many of us," Eddie continued, causing Spider to sit. "Good men and women, even children. I still remember the screams of a girl hugging her pregnant wife and an arrow in her stomach. We went to the clans for assistance; many turned the other cheek - the Omaticaya refused to do anything about it." 

Did they do it? Strike the mighty blow against the Ayroa?

Spider was fascinated. 

"Did you guys do it? Send the Ayroa away, I mean."

Mansk had a soft smile, nodding to him. 

"The Tipani gave us the details. As soon as we knew their home, the Colonel dropped a crap ton of napalm and burned them to whence they came like Sauron's ring. They stayed away after that." 

As they should. 

He was a little annoyed that the Omaticaya wouldn't do anything. At least Jake hit the Ayroa back whenever they acted up, even if at a disadvantage. 

Miles did something, though. He kicked them up the tail and sent them crying. 

It's impressive that he did so much as a human, one that was shorter than Spider is now. He was an elderly human when he died, too. 

"Doctor Augustine must've been furious."

Kiri's mom. She loved the na'vi. She wouldn't have been happy about such horrible actions. 

The image of an arrow through a pregnant person's stomach was horrifying. 

How many people did Miles bury by hand? It must've been exhausting. 

"Not at them. She tried to excuse their behaviour," Mansk said, shocking him. "Grace was a strong woman but idealistic. She was desperate to believe that the na'vi weren't like us. In her eyes, they were innocent and spiritual. We're more alike than she could accept."

The lines between people and sky people were blurring. There are terrible na'vi and good humans. How much of a difference was there?

Spider couldn't connect to Eywa like the na'vi, but he followed the way. He could See. 

With some help, the Recoms could See as well. That couldn't detract from their human side, however. 

They are humans in na'vi bodies, and Spider was like a na'vi in a human body. 

With how awful Earth was, it was understandable to be desperate for something good. And Eddie didn't seem to fault her for that. 

"It's interesting to hear from your side. Jake and the scientists only told their side of things and omitted stuff."

"Bias is inescapable, sport. Folk are biased about many things; it's part of growing up in a certain way or culture. Inner strength is learning to overcome that. Understand?"

"I think so."

"That's a good lad." 

Overcome his bias. That sounds like a trial he can complete. 

As Ed gave him a light pat on the head, Miles and Prager showed up, plus a weird guy. 

Spider wasn't sure what was so off about him, but Spider didn't like him. Given Mansk's reaction, he wasn't happy either. 

"Spider, this is Lieutenant Brett Reed," Miles stated, his annoyance as clear as the sky. "He'll be accompanying us for now." 

"No need for hostilities, Colonel. I'm no threat to your ward," Reed said, his accent strange. "He's your translator. That's imperative to the mission at hand."

The mission was to find Jake, which Deja isn't overly interested in. They wanted to be free, but Reed and his buddies were n the way of that.

Although Spider felt differently about Jake now, he still cared about Kiri, Lo'ak and Tuk. Neteyam, too. 

"He won't be out here," Spider huffed, crossing his arms at the stranger. "He's of the forest. Forest people are useless to the sea." 

"But a rogue Scorpion aligned with him was located within this area. As Sully has children with him, it stands to reason that he's sought sanctuary amongst the sea people. The more apparent we make it that keeping him is a danger to them, the quicker we can finish this. When Sully is captured, he can be tried for treason against humanity - we have no business here otherwise."

It sounded fine, but Spider couldn't be sure. 

"You don't sound enthused about being out here either," Prager said, slightly less antagonistic. 

"As Recombinants, our job is to protect humanity. We belong at Bridgehead doing our job, not out here chasing a traitor. However, since that traitor has caused countless deaths, capturing Sully is imperative. With the head of the snake cut off, the rest will soon calm. We do not want a war; we want a home," Reed stated, looking at Spider intently. 

He was biased against the Recoms, and they're great, so Spider should give this guy a chance. He's new, fresh from a tube. 

If he's willing, Spider could teach him to See as well. 

The na'vi and humans don't have to fight. They could live in peace if they tried. 

"Mansk and Prager will give you a better tour of the facility. I'll chat with the kid," Miles said, his tail slashing anxiously. 

Curiously, he didn't warn Reed about Delta's habit of grabbing tails. 

He'll find out soon enough. 

Miles motioned for Spider to follow him. He didn't need to get told twice; he was already tailing him. It was nice to talk with Mansk; he's a cool guy.  

He's crushing on Jade, that's for sure!

Spider put on his mask as Miles led him outside, curious about what Miles planned. His intrigue grew as Miles walked into the island's jungle, only pausing to check that Spider was still there. 

After the incident with the beast, he was not confident about running on the beach alone. Having a giant like Miles nearby put him more at ease. 

It made him think about the other night after the attack, how Miles held him and made him feel safe. 

Finally, Miles stopped at a small stream, a smirk on his face. He always had a little fang poke over his lip; it was goofy. 

"What's all this for?" Spider asked, watching as Miles moved some bushes aside. 

The Recom tossed something to him, and Spider caught it quickly, unsure of what Miles threw. When he investigated it, he was astounded to see a bow. It was recently carved, possibly done as soon as yesterday. 

Did Miles make him a bow?

"You made this?" Spider questioned, inspecting it.

It was roughly made, unlike the expertise of the Omaticaya, but the effort was there. 

"Figured we could do something while talking," Miles smiled, pulling a larger one out. "Out of practice, but I learned to make this in the Amazon. Not as good as what I'm used to, but it'll suffice."

Wait, what?

"You know how to use a bow!?"

"There's a lot of things you don't know about me," the Recom teased, passing a freshly carved arrow to Spider. "My brother and I would compete with each other. I was better at shooting down birds and drones; he was the better fisher. I used to do it with Zhang, too."

Zhang was one of the Recoms who died when Neytiri came for the others. She left Spider behind, probably on purpose. She hated him. 

He watched as Miles used a bow in a way he'd never seen before, even though his new biology constricted him. The Recom's tail flicked as he let loose an arrow, hitting a stone. 

"And," he continued, eyes shining with something. "I figured we could exchange techniques."

"I don't follow."

"This way is specifically for the human body. The technique you learned is better suited for a na'vi body. We exchange ways."

He was asking Spider to teach him. And to show Spider a way to be better with a bow. 

He's never known anything different. Honestly, Spider was only vaguely aware of human archery. He'd never seen it before. 

"You're gonna have to get down so I can correct you then, tough guy."

"You're the boss," Miles said sarcastically, getting to his knees to make it easier for Spider. 

"Hold your hand outward and lift your elbow more," Spider started, shoving Miles' elbow upwards. His muscles were heavy and strong; he could feel the sheer strength that Miles always held back. "At least you're not learning from scratch, old timer."

"Y'know, I'm only four years older than you, physically," the Recom snarked, using his tail to flick Spider's mask. "Alright, like this?" Miles questioned, trying to copy what the Omaticaya would do. 

Spider nodded, excited that he got to show Miles something. 

Miles released his grip, striking something in the stream. His ears perked upwards, visibly thrilled that he hit something. 

Although Spider wanted to get it, Miles used his tail to keep him on land. The Recom entered, taking his arrow and finding an odd crustacean on the other end. The way he looked at it was adorable, almost like a child interacting with the world for the first time. 

"You know what it is?" Miles asked, his nose twitching slightly.

He subconsciously opened his mouth, taking in the scent. Did he know that the na'vi have a Jacobson organ? Probably not. 

"No idea," Spider answered, watching Miles check it over. He then tossed it back in the stream. "Why'd you do that?"

"Won't eat what I don't know. Since I'm not eating it, there's no point in killing it. Sebastian can go and find Ariel somewhere out at sea." 

Although the reference was lost, he understood what Miles meant; don't be wasteful. That is one of the sacred laws of Eywa. 

For all that Miles was human, he already had principles aligning with Eywa. 

He climbed out, putting his bow aside. The Recom had a grin as he motioned for Spider to lift his. 

Spider held the bow, his muscles holding it how he's done for years. It's the na'vi way, but it's not for his body. 

He waited, feeling as Miles got down on the ground again, his large hands gently manoeuvring Spider's arms. While Miles could easily snap Spider in half, the care he took with him was deceiving. 

Miles changed Spider's hand position, suggestive rather than demanding. 

"Chin down," Miles said, the softness in his voice foreign but warm. "You're a natural at this."

It felt weird to be complimented. 

Feeling in tune with Miles' breathing, Spider released, striking something. 

Miles patted his shoulder, getting into the stream. After a few moments, Spider realised that Miles wanted him to join him. 

The Recom held his hand against Spider's back as support against the running water. He pulled the arrow up, unsure of what he hit; it was a fish, but he didn't know what it was. 

Spider had caught it in the tail. It wriggled in his grasp; it was a tough little fish. 

As Spider didn't know what it was, he couldn't eat it, and Miles had no idea if it was safe. Taking the arrow out, Spider let the fish go, pleased with himself. 

"I don't understand," the teen said, feeling safe next to the Recom. The water was cool against his legs, washing away his stripes. "Why humans and na'vi can't get along."

"We can. You're proof of that," the Recom said, his tail lightly grazing Spider's shoulder. "The kids you were with are proof of that. Just have to get over our petty shit to make it work." 

That's one way of looking at it. 

"They probably think I'm dead."

"Well, after we get this crap sorted, we can try finding them. The big girl you were with, the one with Grace's necklace - she was a close friend, I'm guessing?"

"Yeah, Kiri. She's Grace's daughter. Her avatar was randomly pregnant," Spider answered, waiting for his guardian. Miles was hilariously confused. "Nobody knows who the father is. She's my best friend; she always tried to make me feel welcome."

He wanted to see her again. 

Kiri was his best friend. She was always there for him, even when Neytiri told her not to. She made him welcome and helped him apply his stripes. 

Spider missed his best friend. 

"I'm sorry that we didn't make a good impression. A friend of yours is a friend of ours. We'll make sure she's protected when we meet again. I'll do it for Grace as well; as much as I hated that annoying woman, she was my equal, and I respected her for that." 

He believed him. Whenever Miles spoke to Spider, it came from within and with promise. 

The team are full of strange people, but they're good; he knows it. 

"I didn't get the chance to meet her."

"You did. She damn near blackmailed me so she could hold you," Miles chuckled, amused by the memory. "She got too hasty once, and I hadn't finished feedin' you. You took a nice bite of her tit."

"Ew! That's gross!"

"She found it funny. Said you were a feisty little thing, like your mama. You got your mama's bark, but you get your bite from me, kiddo." 

Spider jokingly hissed at Miles, amused when Miles spat back. The Recom flicked water at him with his tail, making Spider wipe it from his mask. 

As though Spider weighed nothing, Miles picked him up and sat him on his shoulders, legs dangling over his chest. 

"Damn, you're tall!" Spider yelped, never having done this before. "Don't drop me!"

"Wouldn't dream of it, small fry," Miles grinned, walking back to the base. "How 'bout we learn what's safe to eat from Scarlett and have Mansk make a nice barbeque, eh?"

"I love Ed's cooking."

"That Texan sure knows how to cook, that's for damn sure," his guardian agreed, ears flicking against Spider's pants. "Next time we see Sushi, how'd you like a ride with him?"

"Are you kidding? He nearly killed you, loser."

"Nah, he's just got a sick sense of humour. I'll hold you tight. How about it?"

"Hell yeah!"

Chapter Text

Why in the hell did he agree to this? This was a fucking mistake. 

"Hurry up, losers!" Spider exclaimed, his son having a smug attitude. 

His nickname was disgustingly accurate. 

These floating islands are a bastard and a half to climb. His body is gangly and thick; his tail and ears are uncooperative. 

He can smell and hear too much. His senses are on overload, and it sucks. The jungle was a total ass, and it's irritating. He'd rather be back in Nigeria than in this place. 

At least there or the Amazon, Quaritch had something that made it tolerable. Nothing about this body was good, especially his head-tail thing. How did Augustine spend a decade with it?

"I think I'm gonna die," Z-Dog panted, air struggling to get into her lungs.

Ironically, the same air would've killed them a mere - no, it's been longer than that. To them, it's only been a few days. How could it have been fourteen years? So much time, but almost nothing has passed for them. They were stagnant, frozen as everything else grew. 

It didn't help that they had the bodies of kids. At least their tattoos made the transition somewhat more manageable.

He'd lose his shit if Ellie's eagle weren't on his arm or mama's shark on his hip. He should've never let Nathan choose where he got it; why the hip? It was stupid. 

It didn't matter, though. They've all been dead for a long time. 

As usual, Quaritch was alone. It should stay that way, too. Everyone that he's close to ends up dying.

Even himself, funnily enough. 

Quaritch helped Z-Dog up, her skin feeling strange against his blue hands. The scent of her sweat was overpowering. He could smell it in his mouth, even. It's clinging to the roof of his mouth. 

"Up you get, marine," Quaritch stated, patting her back as Prager joined them. He hates climbing. "You alive?"

"I still hate heights."

"Ain't a friend of mine either, Prager, but get that ass moving. I want your tails in front on the double!" he ordered, feeling his body freeze, vision swirling for a few seconds. 

He hated it when that happened, but he couldn't stop it. It's some weird response his body made to danger or something. 

Prager nodded his head, motivated by his boss' orders. 

It was bad enough that his people had died already, and he didn't give them the honour and funeral they deserved. They didn't get to join their comrades under Hell's Gate. That's not a fate he wanted for them, but if they die, he'll keep the tradition. 

He already knew that Mansk and Zdinarsk would want to be with Dawson. They were quiet about her, even when Ja asked if they were alright.

Wainfleet said she was the first thing they asked for when they woke up. It felt like only days ago that little ginger lost her life thanks to Sully and Chacon. He still didn't understand why she stabbed them in the back; she was their friend, their sister-in-arms. 

Annoyingly, Quaritch didn't know how she died. As much as he was angry that Chacon betrayed them, he still cared about her. She was their sister and a friend for almost five years; Lyle was by her side for four.

He didn't know Augustine's fate, either. That odd forest girl wore her necklace, and Grace would sooner die than take that off. 

Quaritch heard the anger in Lyle's voice as he held up the girl's hand, spreading her fingers. He knew the woman who originally wore that necklace, a girl named Sylwanin, a daughter-figure of Grace's. 

He'll never forget the day of that shooting when Roland executed those kids like a savage. He never regretted leaving him to the viper wolves. 

Fuck that guy. He didn't deserve to be buried with his brothers and sisters. 

If he ever found Chacon's body, he'll bury her with the others, even if she betrayed them. She was a friend, so he owed her that much. 

As Augustine was dead, he'd find her body as well. He'd bury her at the Omaticaya's tree, where she felt at home. She deserved that, even though he hated that woman. 

There's much to do, and Ardmore won't get off his back. He despised that woman.

She had no idea how to run an operation on Pandora. She didn't know the moon nor share a concern for her people. Thanks to the videos, he knew she sacrificed good men and women to Pandora's "immune response". 

Ardmore is naive and doesn't understand that her attitude won't work here. It'll break people, and having numerous hopeless people with guns never bodes well.

As much as Quaritch despised Rafael, at least he understood how to keep people operating without losing faith. Albeit through manipulation. 

The Recom stopped at the top of the floating rocks, ears twitching in the wild wind. He looked to Spider, tail swishing expectantly.

Whenever he looked at the teenager, he saw that little babe in Topaz's arms.

Tiny Miles, the baby who got given the same forename as his father by accident. 

He's so strong; the kid was built like a cement wall. Hell knew where the height came from - Paz was only 5'5, and he was 5'10.

Spider's six foot, easy, and still growing. 

"What now?" Lopez wheezed, acting overly dramatic. Seeing him without Walker, his partner in theatrical crime, felt wrong. "No flying putas here."

"We're too low for any of the good ones," Spider joked, rolling his eyes at the Recoms. "Here it comes. Hope you don't fall."

Quaritch watched a mountain pass them, vines dangling low. Without hesitating, Spider jumped, almost giving Quaritch a heart attack. 

His kid scampered up a vine without issue like Tarzan. 

"He's almost as nuts as you," Mansk laughed, jumping to a vine as well. "Last one up cleans up after me!"

"You motherfucker!" Ja shouted, jumping as well.

Hell no.

Quaritch pounced, and Wainfleet and Zdinarsk quickly after him. He could hear Lopez and Prager groan angrily as they jumped, struggling behind them. 

As much as it annoyed him, Mansk was right; his son was insane. 

Who showed him how to do this, anyway?

The Colonel's ears flicked up as he heard a dangerous sound. Acting quickly, he leaned back, coiling his leg around the vine. His tail wrapped around it just as Ja's green floral rope snapped under his weight. He grabbed Ja by his wrist, eyes narrowed and focused.

Ja looked like he was about to shit himself, shaking under Quaritch's grip. 

"Don't look down," Quaritch ordered, waiting for Ja to grab onto his vine. 

His tour of the Amazon forest has proved fruitful. 

"Thank you, sir," Ja said, understandably terrified. 

"At ease, Corporal."

The Colonel pulled himself back up, continuing the climb. He routinely checked below, watching Prager and Lopez catch up to them. 

He's not losing any more people. 

Once he got to the top, Quaritch waited for the others, tail stiff with anxiety. He was annoyed by Spider's insensitive chuckle, dismissing that one of his men almost died a horrific death. 

"Something funny to you?" Quaritch questioned with ears back, eyes not leaving his team. 

"You're meant to grab the younger vines," his son huffed, rolling his eyes. "Weren't you dipshits on Pandora for ages?"

He's going to have a chat with his son about that. It implied an attempt on his team's life, and he won't have that. 

Mansk growled behind Spider, the first to make that feral noise. The reaction was immediate, however, shutting Spider's snarky ass down. 

His son understood na'vi better than humans, and they're a confusing hybrid of the two. 

It's hard for the boy; he knows it is. As far as Spider is concerned, they're evil captors. Yelling at him won't teach him otherwise, however. 

There's so much he doesn't know about his people. 

The fact that his hair is a horrific mess showed nobody showed him how to look after it.

It must be so uncomfortable in that little loincloth, too. 

The Colonel reached down to pull Ja up, waiting for Prager and Lopez to help them. 

Wainfleet looked irritated, ears back and huffing angrily. He understood Lyle's annoyance. 

"I better get a damn pegasus," Lopez whined, rubbing his aching hands. "Fuck, maybe an Alicorn or something - better shit rainbows."

"Who knows, maybe Pandora's got some weird flying horses?" Zdinarsk shrugged, patting his shoulder. "Didn't Big Z have one of those Direhorses?"

Zesìk. Did Spider know about her? He should. 

It loitered for days after she died. Eventually, he let it come into Hell's Gate grounds so it could mourn. They found it one morning dead, resting under a spot its rider would hang out at. It refused to eat, no matter what Augustine tried. 

They buried it with its rider, regardless of what the quacks wanted. Even Parker begrudgingly liked the prankster. 

"The rookery is up here," Spider said, scampering off. The Recoms didn't have a choice but to follow after him. 

Thankfully, it wasn't as much of an irritating journey. They had to go inside the floating island to the edge where the banshees nested. 

There are hundreds of them with varying colours. He even saw one with eyebrow markings and another nearby chewing on a rock. 

Spider made his way to a fallen log, crouching like a cat. He watched them with annoyance and disgust, loathing their presence and existence. His sheer hate for them was hurtful. 

As these are dangerous animals, it's safer to sedate them first. That way, they can push their head-tail with their neural whip. After that, they've got a safe way to travel. 

It's as least stressful to the animal as possible. 

Lyle was already preparing his tranquiliser, a much better shot than Quaritch. However, if he was going to sedate one of these beasts, he'll do it himself. 

Spider's laughter caught him off guard, however. 

"What?" the Colonel questioned, ears up and primed for an answer. 

"Na'vi kids younger than be do this with their bare hands," he snorted, shaking his head. The teenager was bored and disinterested, but worst of all, disappointed. 

He won't stand for his son's disappointment.

"Sully do it the hard way?" he asked, baiting Spider's interest.

Naturally, the teen took it, now paying attention to him.

Now that he had the boy watching him, he'll prove that he was not only better than Sully but do it Spider's way. Words aren't enough for the boy; he needs a demonstration. 

"What do you think?" Spider said sarcastically, but Quaritch could see his intrigue.

Now's his chance for his son to believe in him. 

"Leave it, Colonel," his best friend warned, worry and anxiousness filling his voice. 

He hit Lyle with his tail, telling him to flank right. As expected, Lyle followed orders, though disapprovingly. 

He could handle his friend's disapproval better than his son's. 

It'd be great if Quaritch read a handbook on these things. He watched a big green one take notice of him, growling.

Quaritch stepped forward while pulling his braid over his shoulder, but the beast fled. How's he meant to tame one of these bastards if they take off?

How did he know what to go for?

"How can we get these things if they take off?" Prager questioned Spider; Quaritch could still hear them, even at his distance. 

"You don't. They chose you," Spider answered, talking to Prager as though he was stupid. "Hey, big shot; try the big pretty one! A lot have tried getting her!"

Oh, really? In that case, he'll get that one. 

A brilliant-looking beast looked at him, presumably the female that Spider referred to. She was beautiful, that was certain; the pattern on her wings was magnificent. She hissed at him, rearing back and beating her wings in a warning: come near me, and I'll eat you.

"Just you and me, Cupcake."

He likes the attitude. 

She roared, unfurling her black teeth - he didn't know they could do that. It felt as though she accepted his impromptu challenge. 

That's going to be his. 

Quaritch didn't resist the natural and instinctive urge to hiss at her, though admittedly, it was a little pathetic. His first try was terrible. 

The banshee lunged, snapping her jaws, aiming to split him. He jumped to the side, dodging her mighty maw, quickly punching her in the eye. As she shook her large head, he grabbed her neural whip, jumping onto her back. 

Her wings and muscles are mighty under him; the power in her neck alone was staggering. Kids under sixteen do this? Why? What batshit parents let them?

She bucked, throwing him in the air, only to land harshly on his groin. Even though his package is internal now, it hurt like there was no change. It felt like his pubic bone might've cracked. 

Even so, Quaritch held on, riding out the rodeo with the space dragon. She was determined to throw him off, rearing back again, trying to bite at him. 

"Did I mention that you're supposed to tie their mouths shut first!?" Spider shouted, angering the struggling Recom.

The fucking kid is trying to get them killed. 

"Thanks a lot, kid!" Quaritch snapped back, feeling the animal move. She stumbled to the cliff edge, roaring at him. 

Without any chance of stopping her, the beast pounced off the edge. The only sound he could make was a weird "whoo" in surprise and fear. 

Quaritch held on for dear life, feeling the wind carve against his skin as she dived. The banshee shrieked from his grip on her neural whips, curling and sending them into freefall. 

He yelled out, terrified of the situation he'd gotten himself in. He could barely hear anything beyond blood pumping and his shaking breath. The canopy of the jungle beneath them is fast approaching, threatening to kill them both. Sweat from both entities caused his grip to falter. 

He was falling to his death. 

The Colonel knew the na'vi bones were strong but not enough to survive this. He'd end up in a puddle or sticking out of a branch, food for those little blue monkey things. 

For all of his life, he'd been falling metaphorically.

Falling in the literal sense was a new one. 

Quaritch gritted his teeth, growling at himself. He wouldn't die like this, not like some stupid schmuck. 

He manoeuvred in the air, feeling the wind beating against his back like a heavyweight boxer. It almost winded him, the force of the fall, the wind stabbing at his ears. 

The banshee above him was regaining consciousness, possibly knocked out by the shock. Her deep eyes locked onto his, anger filling them as her jaw opened, teeth primed to rip him apart. Without the luxury of thought, Quartch grabbed her mouth, one of her teeth cutting his fingers. 

The stupid and bold move surprised her enough to pull himself up and grab a neural whip. She shook her head, knocking the bony protrusion from her chin into his skull. It hurt like hell, but adrenaline kept him going. He couldn't stop.

Stopping means he'd die and leave his son all alone again. 

How would Quaritch take care of his team if he wasn't there? He couldn't let Ardmore hurt them or his son. He needed to do something and fast. 

Quaritch, for unknown reasons, headbutted the flailing beast. He narrowly missed one of her wings' talons as he pulled himself closer to her neck, fingers digging into her thick hide. She shook him off, leaving only his grip on her whip.

Little option remaining, he pulled it down to his head-tail, seeing gross tendrils reaching for each other. He brought them together, shuddering and feeling his pupils expand as a rush of confusion, anger and fear that didn't belong to him rushed through his senses. 

His wings were uncoordinated, busy trying to get a thing off of him. That's not right; that isn't his thoughts. 

He pulled himself onto his back - that was wrong again!

Breathing didn't belong to him anymore; he felt air rushing past his collarbone instead of his throat. It was confusing, alien and horrifying. 

Growling, Quaritch did what he did best - take control. His muddled mind demanded his limbs lock on and spread out. 

Finally, the angry bitch under him was back to reality, or a mockery of it. 

She roared, beating her wings and starting to fly, stopping their descent. It didn't stop her acceleration.

The banshee dived once again to the canopy. She tried to shake him off, disapproving of the bold blue dream walker upon her back.

The best that he could do was hold onto her neck as she navigated through the trees, deliberately making it so branches would hit him. Even so, Quaritch wouldn't let go, hissing at her. 

This was the baddest banshee of them all, the most desired, and he'll prove himself to his son with her. 

She roared again, not trying to break his spine as much. She landed on a huge branch, turning her head to look at him. 

Though disorientated and possibly having a heart attack, Quaritch could feel her. Every breath she took, the beating of her heart, the burning in her lungs and soreness on her neural whips. 

He felt her pry into his unprepared mind, digging through his mess of a life, dissecting him. Weirdly, the mighty beast softened, a sense of understanding coming from her.

Thankfully, there was no pity, though there was some odd sense of respect.

From one warrior to another. 

This being was experienced in battle; he could feel it in her gaze. She had not found one worthy of flying with her, and it wasn't out of narcissism; he couldn't comprehend an animal having such a thing other than cats. 

She had fought in the sky battle that killed him and presumably everybody else, the one over that damn pink tree. He saw a snippet of it through her eyes, including a gigantic orange beast commanding them to follow her in the name of someone called Tsäìrang.

A fellow soldier, albeit one with wings. 

Through their new link, she sent approval of her name - Cupcake. It wasn't serious, but that was the first thing he called her; it was sacred to her. 

Cupcake it is. 

"I dunno how to fly," he panted, tired, stressed and still reeling from nearly dying. "You're the boss."

She was intrigued by the "deviation", not that he knew what that meant. 

Nodding, the banshee took off, telling him where to place his feet. He wasn't going to argue with the experienced flyer. 

Cupcake rocketed upwards, accelerating as he followed her instructions. 

She roared, announcing her presence proudly.

Quaritch stood, raising his fist triumphantly in the air at their shared victory. He whooped to his team, watching their expressions turn to joy and pride at him. With a croak akin to a cackle, Cupcake swam in the air, showing off her rider to the other banshees. 

Weirdly, he could understand the reactive roars, feeling her translate them to him. 

The most important reaction was his son, watching on with a surprised smirk, one of pride. That alone was worth almost falling to his death. 

That's right, kid; your dad got the baddest of them all. 

"Who's next!?" he called, heart beating wildly.

Chapter Text

Lyle doesn't like it. 

He watched the newbies like a hawk, not taking his eyes off them. 

Reyah is fine. She's the same little clumsy sunshine that magnetised the people to her. She was having a blast with the guys, showing off her nictating membranes, much to Lopez's horror. 

It's the others. 

Kane made herself known by managing to befriend the horrid Scoresby - the Australians couldn't go five minutes without calling each other an obese cunt. Any friend of that man is a walking red flag. 

From what he overheard, Kane died seven years ago in another failed colony. Supposedly, she joined a suicide mission with Project Phoenix as a backup plan; he didn't know if she succeeded in that mission. It was a stupid thing to agree to. 

Lyle only signed up after Parker managed to badger the Colonel into agreeing. Same with the others. However, Parker, either unaware or deliberately misleading, didn't tell them the extent of the process. If he knew that he'd wake up in a freaky facility buck naked and part of his brain hanging out of his head, he would've punched the twink in the face. 

It was baffling that after he got in that link bed, he died two hours afterwards. At least the Colonel knew how he died; the rest hadn't a Scooby what happened to them. 

O'Brien is an animal nerd, babbling about the several creatures of Pandora and other weird shit. What the hell was an Aye-Aye? It didn't sound like a real animal. The guy devoured information like locusts in a field. 

The Irishman was more annoying when it came to Ja. He kept trying to show off by talking about tigers and dog breeds. It was baffling and stupid. 

Why did Ardmore send these guys? They don't need another sniper, nor some twat obsessed with obscure animal facts that don't even sound real. 

Speaking of twats, he didn't like Reed. 

He didn't like how cheery and overly friendly he was, always trying to shadow the Colonel. He asked odd questions, and his face would become unreadable whenever he got an answer. Whatever Reed was looking for, he wasn't getting what he wanted. 

Lyle hated how he looked at Spider. It's not Lyle's job or place to feel possessive and protective, but once you're a father, that never goes away. 

Reed's attempts at "bonding" felt too forced. He didn't want to hear or see the guy, let alone be near him. 

"You look down," came the fourth annoyance. She might be taller than the Colonel. "What was it like? When you woke up."

Lyle pulled up his sunglasses, annoyed.

"Why'd you wanna know?"

"It's disorientating. You've had longer to get used to this," Röskva Arondóttir said, motioning to her new body. "I'd never been off Earth before; I've only heard of Pandora and the shit there. It was like a fairytale story, y'know? I don't recognise myself anymore." 

At least Reyah was already familiar with Na'vi, even if it was as a quack. 

Though he didn't like the newbies, he was sympathetic to Arondóttir's plight. 

"I was the first woken up," Lyle admitted, tail swaying lazily. His ears flinched. "It wasn't good. Whatever the dosage was needed to wake us up, they gave me too much, and I freaked out. I mean, one moment I'm getting in a link bed, and the next, I'm 10ft tall and blue." 

It was like blinking. 

The smells, sounds and lights were all too much at once. 

"My commanding officer had me and my team round-up and scanned - some bullshit about possible neurotoxin exposure. I didn't agree to end up as whatever we are."

"Recombinant."

"That, yeah," Arondóttir huffed, her ears flicking from annoyance. "I get it. We're new, and it disrupts your team dynamic. Shit's weird, and we're greenhorns. Or blue horns, I should say. The General said that you lost some guys, probably close friends. I'm sorry that you lost them." 

Now he felt like an asshole for judging She-Hulk.

Whatever they were feeding her in that tube, he could've done with some. She's huge. 

"I'm sorry too," Lyle sighed, slightly less annoyed. "Since you didn't sign a contract, how'd you end up with the RDA?"

"My commander got hired by some RDA idiot, and we followed him because we had nothing else. Can I speak freely?"

"Free as a banshee."

"What's the point of a Recombinant? I get that it's supposed to be stealthy on this planet, but it feels like a waste of money. I don't know much, but their obsession with money? I know that. It's frankly disgusting. Why not make more of those driving suit things than us?"

That was a good point. Why not use avatars instead of Recoms?

It's much less of a hassle. 

He was glad she didn't sound impressed with their soon-to-be ex-boss. 

"Doesn't make sense to us either," he admitted, warming up to the woman. "You ever seen a na'vi before?"

"Nothing except for you guys."

"Be open-minded. The stuff they believe sounds like bullshit, but it's more real than the money those assholes wasted to bring us back." 

"If I could, I'd run off and join them. What little I know sounds much nicer than dealing with the General's bitching." 

"Yeah, well, she wouldn't be happy about that," he said, dissecting Arondóttir's words. 

He had to be careful with what he said.

If Lyle could get her to admit wanting to leave, it'd be possible to start trusting her. 

"Fuck Ardmore. We're blue, and you guys have those space dragons. Fly us somewhere in the space sticks, and we figure it out after. Sounds ideal to me; the planet's beautiful." 

"Don't be so loud. Someone might tell the General."

"You won't," she said, sounding strangely confident. "I'm not an idiot, Lieutenant. You're testing me."

Well, shit. 

"What do you want to do then, Arondóttir?"

"Not waste this second chance by repeating history, shooting folk over something that doesn't matter. Don't you want that as well?"

"Hypothetically, if we wanted to defect, we wouldn't be able to do that until we were certain there wasn't a spy. Four random rookies make things difficult, doesn't it?"

"Three randos. I can't say for Reed, O'Brien or Kane, but Reyah and I are with you. Fuck Ardmore."

"Fuck her, indeed." 

This might work out after all. 

When Lyle spotted the Colonel, he stopped breathing for a moment. As usual, he looked fantastic, and little Spider was hot on his tail. Some of the other kids were following them along with Mansk and Lopez. 

What he wouldn't give to feel that man and hear him growl.

The kids were ecstatic, rambling and asking a million questions to the Recom. Among them were Jesse and Robin, clinging to Spider's side, excited. 

"You having trouble, sir?" Lyle questioned, amused. 

"Did you eat a thanator, sir?" said a black kid with a metal leg. He looked a lot like Roman; it must be his boy. "Couldn't believe it when Spider told us."

"Yeah, we ate it. The worst thing I've ever eaten," Lyle smirked, flicking his ears. "You must be Roman's boy."

"Sterling McCain, sir," Sterling smiled, elbowing Spider's shoulder. "Our dads know each other. How cool is that?"

He wished that Matthew, Mei and Xiang got to their age. What would Jenny think of Pandora? Mom would've loved it here. 

If Lei knew what happened to him, she'd throw a bitch fit. There was nothing scarier than getting screamed at in Mandarin and Cantonese. 

So much to regret. 

Lyle didn't think before opening his big mouth.

"Wanna go for a flight, sir?" Lyle asked, immediately wanting to punch himself. Quickly, he tried to come up with an excuse. "Do some patrol. Maybe find a village on the way." 

Shit!

Spider pulled a funny face, staring at Lyle weirdly. 

Now he felt even more stupid. 

"Damn, Lieutenant. You're acting as though you've shat yourself," the Colonel smirked, that tiny fang showing itself again. "A patrol would undoubtedly give us time to decide how to proceed. Brats, time to bother Mansk and Lopez; they have many stories to share."

"Like the time you went full Cajun on Prager?" Lyle chuckled, earning a cocked brow. "Come on. You sounded like a hick from the bayou!"

"Not my fault the roux was wrong; Prager's got no business messing with jambalaya. And besides, the only hick here is you, Florida boy." 

"You can play the banjo."

"Fuck you."

If only. 

"What's a banjo?" Spider questioned, confused. "Is it an instrument?"

"I can play that!" Jesse exclaimed, excited to show Spider something. She grabbed his hand, pulling. "Come on!"

That solved the little problem, though Spider still looked confused. 

Of course, the Colonel's niece knew how to play one. 

Understanding that the Recoms were busy, the other kids went with them. Cute scamps. 

"Think Whiskey's choked on air yet?" the Colonel questioned.

"Wouldn't be surprised. I think he hatched late."

"He probably sensed food and hatched too early." 

"That sounds more likely." 

He loves his buddy.

Whiskey has a lot of heart and is playful. He wants to have friends and enjoy his flock. 

If they could, Lyle would bring Whiskey inside and let him investigate everything. He's a curious guy. 

They made their way outside, tails almost wagging behind them. He knew that the Colonel loved to fly; he was a natural at it. 

Even Spider mentioned how talented Miles was at flight. He seemed to bond to anything he met, including that angry fish, Sushi. 

"How do you do it?" Lyle asked, feeling the sand squish beneath his feet. "Bond with animals so well."

Miles thought over the question as Cupcake flew to his side, croaking. She did something with her right-wing, scratching her claw down her head and against her protruding chest. Interestingly, Miles did the same, making her trill with excitement. 

The motherfucker is learning banshee gestures? Of course, he is. 

"Thinkin' that they're animals is your first mistake," Miles said as he brought his queue to Cupcake. She attached herself eagerly, rubbing her head against his chest. "They got culture, traditions and a language all theirs. The "trick" to riding is that you're just a passenger. Just harder to think of them as equals because they ain't humanoid like the na'vi." 

That made sense. 

When Whiskey joined them, he performed the motion to Cupcake. He's done that before, but Lyle thought he was scratching himself. 

As he respected his buddy, Lyle attempted to do the same. Although not smooth, the boss was happy he tried. 

Whiskey chirped, rubbing his head against Lyle's. 

"I'll get better at it, buddy," Lyle promised, patting Whiskey's neck. When the banshee brought his whip to Lyle, he happily connected.

The banshee croaked as Lyle climbed onto his back, tail dancing. He always got excited to fly his space dragon. 

The Colonel was already in the air, gliding with ease. He looked born to be in the sky, living up to the Sky Person nickname from the na'vi. 

There's no point in looking at them differently. The Recoms were a hybrid of humanity and na'vi, a fusion of two worlds. They know the human way, but what about the rest?

The alien language is a struggle, but there's so much more to it. There's even sign language, as Delta demonstrates. 

Lyle is a Recombinant, the supposed ultimate combination of marine and alien. If he's going to get better, he'll have to explore the latter half more. It's a part of him now, and he can't pretend otherwise. 

All of them are part of this moon. Even if they wanted to go back to Earth, they couldn't. 

Pandora is their home; they must fight for it and make a place to live outside the RDA's bullshit. 

"Looking good, sir," Lyle grinned, gliding in the sky.

Whiskey's wings beat against gravity, defying it. 

"You ain't seen nothing yet, Lieutenant," Miles grinned. 

He knows that face. It's a challenge, a dare. 

That's going to be fun. 

"That so?" Lyle smirked, feeling Whiskey get excited. "You gonna show me, sir?"

"If you can keep up!"

Lyle grinned as Quaritch and Cupcake sped up, the female showing off her skills. Unsurprisingly, Whiskey didn't want to get shown up by her, pounding against the air after her. 

The beautiful beast was a fast sucker; he'd give her that. However, Whiskey is full of blind determination. 

Whiskey shrieked as he flew over the pair, croaking a near cackle at Cupcake. She merely cawed back. 

His boss had a confident grin, something running through his mind. With a click of his tongue, Cupcake shot upwards, only to pull back and dive into the water. 

Lyle was shocked beyond words. He and Whiskey hovered, looking around where Miles and Cupcake dove. What the fuck was that? Why did he do that?

The Lieutenant yelled as Miles and Cupcake rocketed out of the ocean, curling over them. He watched Quaritch grab his sunglasses as they dived again. 

What the fuck?

Whiskey rose, turning his head to Lyle, seeking approval. Not knowing what was in store, Lyle gulped air, giving Whiskey the go-ahead. 

The ocean is cold, but the salt doesn't burn his eyes. It's massive and full of moving forms of life and corals. 

Once, Earth's oceans used to be like this, filled with weird life. That changed long before he or Quaritch were born, though. 

A weird-looking fish that had a single fin around its body passed, looking like a fan with two giant pincers. He was baffled by the bizarre creature, watching it swim away. 

Cupcake swam through the water, swimming under them with Miles smirking at him. 

How'd he know they could do that? Did Cupcake tell him? 

He pointed upwards, gesturing for Lyle to breach the surface. He did so gladly, letting go of Whiskey as the Ikran instinctively rolled onto his back, sucking air through his collarbone holes. 

"Where'd you learn that?" Lyle asked, air burning his lungs. 

"She did," Miles answered, nodding to Cupcake. She trilled, splashing water at him. "We're going to live out here. Might as well get used to the sea." 

That's a good point. 

"A weird spot to practice swimming, sir."

"I didn't choose it for swimming, Lieutenant," Miles grinned, whistling at the wild expanse. Something caused a splash in the water, alerting Lyle. 

The Recom ducked his head under the water, able to see a giant fish creature coming for them. It swam under him; its body was gigantic. 

The fish turned, shifting under Quaritch and hissing loudly.

"Attaboy, Sushi," Miles said, patting the odd fish. "You gonna get on or what?"

He felt his face flush, the idea of sharing a mount with Miles. 

Cupcake croaked, laughing at Lyle's reaction. 

Oh, shit. How can Lyle refuse a face like that?

Whiskey chirped, pushing his head against Lyle. The Ikran shoved him to the big fish's side, encouraging him to ride. 

The fish named "Sushi" hissed, snapping its jaws in the water. It was taunting him. 

"I don't think he likes me."

"Just do what he says, and it'll be fine," Miles said, pulling Lyle to sit before him. "He's gonna be fast, so hold on." 

He was a marine; he liked fast. 

Lyle brought his freaky ponytail to the fish's neural whip, feeling a shiver as this strange being joined his consciousness. He felt Sushi looking through his eyes as he was blind on one side. 

The Lieutenant thought about what Miles said, how he explained that the animals were equal. Although Sushi was a giant fish, he was as conscious as Lyle. 

He's a passenger, and this being is the driver. It's like riding as a gunner on Trud's Samson. 

Sushi told Lyle what to do, his new water boss giving clear instructions. The "Tsurak" hissed, taking a liking to the moniker. 

A good position was imperative to reentering the water, letting his body flow along with Sushi. Being aware of his surroundings and staying calm was also helpful. 

"Let's get it done," Lyle smirked, patting Sushi's side. 

Sushi hissed as he started moving, swimming through the water like nothing. Once Lyle's foot was on Sushi's back with the other knelt, Sushi shot upwards, spreading his wings. His wing-like fins turned like flukes, his tail propelling them forward. It felt incredible, being one with this entirely different entity. 

There were many scars on Sushi's body, all from his previous owners, the ones that Miles rescued him from. 

He felt amazing in the air and water simultaneously. He looked to the right, seeing Whiskey gliding beside him, croaking proudly. 

Suddenly remembering that there was missing weight, Lyle looked behind him, seeing nothing. 

"Don't get distracted!" the Colonel yelled from the other side atop Cupcake, surprising him. "Natural at riding a Tsurak, Leiutenant!"

The son of a bitch tricked him. 

Sushi hissed a chuckle, privy to the scheme. 

The Tsurak gave him a heads-up, telling Lyle to loosen his body against his. Once Lyle did so, Sushi dove, his speed increasing. 

And Cupcake dove, too, swimming over them, Miles smiling from her back. 

It was a sight that he'd tattoo into his retinas. 

Seeing Miles happy and free was exhilarating. He was a natural on Pandora; he was meant to be here, beyond his new body. 

The man had a wild soul only Pandora could adapt to. 

It's the soul that Lyle has been obsessed with for years. 

This felt right. 

Sushi warned Lyle, letting the Recom prepare as he breached the surface, taking semi-flight. Quickly behind them was Cupcake and Whiskey, roaring excitedly. 

The Tsurak glided above the ocean, the air tickling his giant fins. With Miles still on her, Cupcake flew under him and Sushi, joining Whiskey's side. 

It was fun. 

Sushi landed in the water, his fins folding against his body. The Tsurak was such a powerful being, feeling his breath and body movements. 

He wiggled under Lyle, pleased that he gave the Recom a good time. He agreed with Miles; Lyle was a natural at riding a Tsurak. 

What else can Lyle learn to ride? How many more beings on Pandora can communicate?

Even the tiny fish could be capable of awareness. 

What is awareness, exactly? Understanding that you're alive, that you have desires and crap? Isn't that what they do anyway?

It's giving him a lot of things to reconsider. 

"That smoke?" Quaritch questioned, his concern shifting Lyle's mood. 

He looked to the right, seeing a faint trail in the distance. He patted Sushi's side, thanking him for that incredible experience before getting back on Whiskey. 

"Let's have a look," Lyle said, waving to the Tsurak as he sank back into the depths. He'll likely follow them. 

The two took off, flying towards the odd smoke. 

Miles had yet to give Lyle his sunglasses back, too. He'll get them back after this.

Whatever this is, exactly. 

They quickly made their to an island they hadn't encountered, but the village was scorched to ash. From the looks of it, nobody survived.

Many Ilu were dead around the village, though it looked like gunshot wounds instead of a Kxeìnge attack. That meant the RDA were involved somehow, but they hadn't done this, then who did?

The look on Miles' face was enough; he was furious. If they had to kill someone in the village to look pretty for Frances, they did their best to keep it to a minimum. This is a slaughter, plain genocide. 

At some point, they'll avenge these people. Their only guilt was existing in the same biome as Sully, that selfish fucker. 

Thanks to him, Truds was dead; his friend got her ticket punched far too soon. He didn't care that she was fucking that weird dopey guy, but they roped her in on a suicide mission and got them killed. 

Their escape killed Zephyrine. 

The Colonel dove, landing on the village beach. 

Lyle followed him, concerned for the Colonel. 

"This ain't acceptable," Miles said coldly, standing before a dead woman holding her deceased infant. 

"Looks like Frances is sending more than us," Lyle said, his ears pinned at the carnage. "That's going to be an issue."

"Not if we do something about it."

"Like what?"

"We find the sons of bitches responsible. This is our home, and I won't have my son growing up in a desolate wasteland as we did." 

Their flight had turned into an impromptu mission. He wasn't angry about it, however. 

They were going to make changes out here. The RDA will regret bringing them back from the meat locker. 

Not only as a better life for Spider but for them and the native people, too. 

The Colonel picked up a spear, passing it to Lyle. The tip had a weird obsidian-like edge, sharp and threatening. 

Quaritch took a sea-like bow with arrows from a dead warrior, attaching it to his side. They're going to get back at the fuckers who did this. 

"I go from above, you below," Quaritch growled, whistling for Sushi to return.

The Tsurak was always nearby.

Lyle clicked at Whiskey, telling him to keep a distance for safety. 

The Colonel got onto Cupcake's saddle, taking off into the air as Lyle returned to Sushi, gripping his newly acquired spear. 

Whiskey went ahead, searching for any possible sign of the RDA. It didn't take him long, fortunately. The male Ikran chirped, telling them to follow him.

Sushi hissed, ready to get back into battle with a more deserving rider. 

Lyle growled, feeling Sushi's anger and lust for victory flowing through him. The Tsurak had been in many battles, so Lyle grasped what to do. 

They set off, following Whiskey towards vengeance and accountability. They deserved retribution for their part in this, too. That was for later, however.

Right now, they can do something. 

His ride was fast in the water, bringing him to the sight of a SeaDragon in the distance; it wasn't Scoresby's. It made sense that there were others out here. It meant that these schmucks possibly had no idea about the Recombinants, giving them an edge. 

There is a weird crying, a bizarre pleading echoing from the water. It sounded like people but not at the same time. His head hurt at the sound; it was as though needles were getting shoved through his eyeballs. 

Shaking it off, Lyle and Sushi went forward, rushing to the enemy. 

There were boats that he'd seen on Scoresby's ship, but these were in action. They're blasting something at gigantic fish creatures - Sushi said they're called "Tulkun". 

They are what Scoresby and his gaggle of buffoons were rigged to hunt? But their screams - they sounded like people.

How couldn't they throw up at the sound?

There's an alien anger in Lyle, something that didn't belong to him. It wasn't Sushi's, either. Whatever it was, he wasn't going to ignore it. 

These motherfuckers aren't going to get away with it. 

Spotting a big woman on the boat with a harpoon-looking thing attached, Lyle targeted her. 

Sushi got the message, diving deep into the depths. He hastened as Lyle gripped the spear, itching to stop the wailing. The Tulkun weren't fighting back; he didn't know if they could. 

Under the water, he could see the titanic beings had intricate and unique tattoos akin to the sea na'vi people. His partner in vengeance elaborated that the Tulkun are spiritual kin to some na'vi - they earn their tattoos after a rite of passage. 

It's like some asshat hunting his Whiskey, then.

All the more reason to go after these pricks. 

Once close enough, Sushi pounced from the water, startling the people. He impaled the woman with his spear, sending her to the ocean depths. At the same time, Sushi snatched a person in his jaws, crushing them. 

Some hated to work with the RDA; he understood that. It was difficult having to fight his comrades, but someone had to stop this. 

He and Miles would be examples but not abandon them as Sully did. 

Eventually, they'll be liberated from those assholes' grip.

A Sea Wasp started shooting at him, but it didn't last long. The ship crashed into the ocean, an arrow sticking out of the cockpit. After that, another fell with a similar cause. 

The SeaDragon only had two. That was their aerial support shot. 

Three submarines went after Lyle, but he and Sushi were too fast. He quickly swam up and over the subs, getting behind them. He stuck the spear through the rotors, then stabbed the windows. If a person tried escaping, Sushi picked them off. 

If anybody escaped, they'd alert Ardmore. This was a terrible decision to make with only the two of them.

With young bodies came dumb ideas. 

Lyle had to return to the surface for air; Sushi's fins spread as they glided together. He watched as Whiskey descended on a boat, his jaws making quick work of the people. His boy was a little airheaded but still a warrior. 

A bullet grazed Lyle's shoulder, angering the Recom. He and Sushi turned, going after the fuckers that hit him. 

Knowing where the moonpool was, Lyle and Sushi swam under the SeaDragon, only resurfacing to get Lyle into the ship. 

The Lieutenant stuck his spear through an unsuspecting soldier, taking his gun and firing at the equipment. As expected, it started exploding. 

"What the hell are you doing!?" yelled somebody, horrified by what Lyle was doing.

"Putting an end to this bullshit," Lyle answered, taking a clean shot. 

He could act like a child sometimes and appear like an idiot, but Lyle was one of the best snipers in Hell's Gate. As soon as he learned to use a bow, he'd be more frightening than Sully's bitch wife. 

Many forgot that he was an experienced marine. He called Pandora home for twelve years. You don't survive the moon by being a pansy. 

You don't become the Colonel's right-hand man by being mediocre. 

The marine made his way through the ship, taking magazines if his gun ran out of ammo. He was cold, calculated and unforgiving. 

Lyle's ears flicked up, hearing a weapon ready itself at him. He turned, eyes locked onto a man, seeing his terror. That wasn't all he saw, however. 

The man fell as an arrow exploded through his chest, pinning him to the floor. 

"They got trophies in the bridge," Miles growled, passing Lyle a na'vi knife. It appeared made of the same oceanic glass as the spear. "We got three minutes before this thing blows to kingdom come." 

"You rigged the engine?"

"Damn straight, Lieutenant. Oscar Mike!"

"Oorah, sir."

He'd be lying if he claimed to be non-excited. Seeing his Colonel in action was marvellous. 

They'll likely have to do this again in the future. However, that sounded more exciting than daunting.

Next time, however, they'll have some backup. 

They made it to the moonpool, diving in where Sushi awaited them. The Tsurak hissed as they held onto him, swimming away from the doomed ship. 

Once far enough, they surfaced, watching the light show. High above, Cupcake and Whiskey roared triumphantly. 

Oorah, indeed. 

[They are not Na'vi?]

He heard a voice, but not at the same time. The two Recoms realised that they had an audience. Those Tulkun were still there, watching them. 

[They do not dress like Na'vi,] questioned one of them. 

How can they understand them so clearly, but it's still fogged?

"We're Recombinants," Miles clarified, equally confused. "Y'all are Tulkun, right?" 

[I have heard of these. They helped Äonghai Te Tsao Engkey'itan of the Muolhaweng. They are allies,] said one with an elderly feminine voice. [You came to help us, did you not?]

"And avenge a nearby destroyed village," Lyle added, fascinated. "I didn't know you guys could talk. Wild."

[You hear us?] asked an older male, his large crest indicating the males were like bulls. [And we can understand you, despite not knowing the Na'vi tongue. How is this?]

"We're weird," Lyle shrugged, feeling Sushi hiss in agreement. 

"How come you didn't fight back? You're big enough to cause mayhem," Quaritch asked, which was a good question. 

[It is against the Tulkun way,] said a younger bull. [We forbade violence after the unfathomable bloodshed it caused. It was never an issue before the Sky People began to hunt us.]

Being so huge would prove a decent deterrent from predators. Given Earth's history, their reasoning was understandable. However, it left them open to attacks from the RDA. 

A female placed herself between them and the pod, a baby bobbing their head beside her. Her eyes narrowed at Quaritch's necklace, the gift from that mermaid. The giants were astonished that the Great Daughter Saw a lowly demon. 

The baby cooed towards Lyle, swimming up to him. Despite being huge, he was adorable, like a puppy. 

Lyle slid from Sushi's back, patting the baby's head. He was so cute. 

[I am Roa, spirit sister to Tsahik Ronal Te Arikxa Moana'ite of the Metkayina. You saved me and my son, Toan. My pod and I are eternally in your debt, Recombinants.]

"We're the Deja," Miles corrected, looking proud. "I ain't any good at the language, but I See You, Roa."

[And we see you, Deja. The Daughter was wise to have faith in you, Olo'eyktan of the Deja,] Roa continued, clicking and whistling to them. [All I ask is to remove something they bit me with.]

Getting called an Olo'eyktan did something to Miles. Whatever it was, Lyle wanted to see more of it. 

Lyle swam to the giant, using her fin to get onto her hardy back. He quickly found a beacon, pulling on it with everything he had. It refused to budge, so Miles started to help. His being so close to Lyle, making those grunting sounds, was not helpful. 

Finally, the thing came loose, but Lyle kept hold of it. He wanted answers from Garvin and Scoresby. 

"Look after yourselves," Lyle said, patting Roa's back as he swam to Sushi's back. "Stay away from the Kxeìnge!"

The pod hummed in agreement, descending into the depths and vanishing. 

The pair looked at each other, breathing heavily at the experience. Fucking hell, the space whales could talk. 

"Did we just talk to space whales?" Miles questioned, looking stunned. 

Sushi hissed, also surprised. 

"They're our equals," Lyle said, echoing what Miles told him earlier. The Colonel nodded, still in shock. "At least they're cool. The baby was adorable."

"Seems like we accidentally made friends with the Metkayina. That's three clans in our back pocket now."

Damn, yeah. There's the Muolhaweng, Maka'alo, and now the Metkayina - as well as Roa's pod. 

More allies. 

"The more, the better, sir."

"Oorah to that."

Hell yeah. 

His boss looked magnificent out here, wet with saltwater and wearing a big smile on his beautiful face. It reached his big yellow eyes. Even his star freckles seemed to glow more. 

Lyle loved how his forehead stripes looked like those goofy white floating things from the jungle. The spots created a Scorpio constellation, and he had a cute shining freckle under his bunny-like nose. 

He loved it when his nose twitched; it was disgustingly adorable. He wanted to kiss it. 

How dare a man look as fine as that?

He could look at that man for hours. 

"Gonna be great telling Spider about all this," Miles said, whistling to Cupcake. The Ikran dove into the water, using her wings like fins. She picked up water in her mouth, dumping it on the man. "What'd I do to deserve that!?"

Sushi hissed, swimming around them. It felt like he was laughing at Lyle, probably having detected his annoying interest in the Colonel. 

"You gonna keep the bow?" he asked, ignoring the fish. 

"Might as well. It makes less noise, but it's going to need some recalibrating. Eh, Spider can show me how." 

Lyle was good with that spear. He should keep it as well.

Felt natural to use. 

"Spider can show you how to figure that out."

"Yeah. Before we head back, I want to bury that village. No good leaving them to the space pests." 

Yeah, that sounds like a plan. 

He called for Whiskey, waiting for the banshee to land in the rippling waters. With the pair back in the air, they could return to that village. 

Somewhere in those depths, Sushi was following them; he could feel it. The Tsurak was reliable and loyal; he wouldn't be far from the folk that rescued him. 

Whiskey looked through Lyle's experience on the ship, curious. He wondered why the humans even needed the tulkun. It's a good question; what did the RDA want with space whales? 

It is perplexing why the CetOps were a thing. They hunted the tulkun, but why? The tulkun were pacifists to the point of endangering themselves; it's not like they'll be a threat. 

Something isn't adding up, and the beacon he grabbed should give some answers. If Scoresby magically learns to keep his mouth shut, Garvin will cough up. He's terrified of his brother-in-law. 

The banshee called to his fellow, asking if she had an idea. Unfortunately for him, Cupcake didn't know. She only heard of the sea from migrating Ikran in other Shrieks. 

It was fitting that a banshee group was called a shriek. 

He and Whiskey stopped in the air, hovering with Cupcake and Miles beside them. They stared at the village, seeing several na'vi that weren't there before. Even more confusing, these new guys dragged the bodies onto little boats attached to Ilu. 

The Ilu was scarred, branded and visibly distressed. It reminded Lyle of how Sushi looked when they first met. 

Kxeìnge.

They didn't need to exchange words, descending rapidly upon the beach. He got off behind the Colonel, ears raised and eyes narrowed at the sea barbarians. 

A young man sneered at them, pointing his spear at Quaritch.

He saw his necklace, his face contorting into a gross smirk, showing his filed teeth. It was the opposite of the usual reaction Miles got, so it meant nothing good. 

"These aren't your people," Miles said, his na'vi struggling through his thick accent. It was better than before, however; Spider was working overtime. "Leave."

"They are not yours, either," the young man hissed, his English rough and sharp. There was a slight Canadian pronunciation. "You are the demon that has made our prey flee."

That's how they see their kin? As prey?

So much for being spiritually superior, Doc Auggie. 

No matter where in the universe, there are assholes seeking to exploit others. 

"I'm going to give you one chance, boy. Leave before I make you," Lyle warned, ears pinning back as the young lad cocked a smirk. "Go, Kxeìnge."

The leading asshole had wild and unkept black hair and tattoos sprawling the left side of his body. He had scars everywhere, some seemingly deliberate. He had bones sticking out of his ears, lips and nose, acting as piercings. 

He waved to his followers, silently ordering them to stay at the boats. 

"I am Laniakea Te Äo'u Payämawa'itan of the Kxeìnge and future Olo'eyktan. You will speak to me with respect, demon."

"Gotta earn that, brat," Miles scowled, ears pinning back.

Even when he looked like he wanted to give you a bloody eagle, he's hot. It was very conflicting. 

"I will take that trophy from your neck. Along with your head," Laniakea sniggered, his tail fluke making a ditch in the bloodied sand. 

"I'm gonna make gumbo out of this little shit's kneecaps," Miles snarled, passing the bow to Lyle for safekeeping. 

Lyle had complete faith in the Colonel. He was a tough son of a bitch before gaining a Recombinant body. That brat has no idea what he's started. 

Cupcake hissed behind him, threatening to jump into the fray with her rider. He wasn't surprised that Whiskey wanted to back her up, snapping at the air. 

Laniakea stepped forward, his buddies whooping him like a peanut gallery. He's a dumb kid going up against a marine; it was pathetic. 

It'd be good to watch, though. It should give that clan a message - fuck with the villages and get your teeth knocked out. 

The fact that Miles was a foot or two taller than the brat certainly made it funnier. 

David and Goliath, only David is a rat bastard who will cry to mommy. 

Laniakea crouched and jumped, seeking to bite the Colonel. He didn't dodge, instead driving his knee into Laniakea's gut and elbowing between his shoulder blades. Without a blink, Miles stepped back, waiting for Laniakea to get up. 

When he did, he pulled a knife from his loincloth belt, trying to stick it into Miles' abdomen. At best, he caught Miles' hand as the Colonel grabbed his wrists. 

Even when the young man kicked at Quaritch's legs and tried to bite his arms, the Colonel stood firm, scowling. Like a puppeteer with a doll, he twisted the brat's arms, turning himself into a straight jacket. 

"You're going to go to your Olo'eyktan, and you're going to stop attacking villages," Quaritch said, his voice cold and filled with promise. "Or I'll do everything to you that your people did to my Tsurak." 

He shoved the kid to the sand, unimpressed with the brat who hissed like a frustrated kitten. 

One of Laniakea's buddies saw to help his comrade, running to jump the Colonel. With only a flick of his ear, it was over. The Colonel turned and kicked the buddy in the face, knocking out some of his teeth and breaking his nose. 

"All of you want to look a new shade?" Lyle added, reminding them that the Colonel wasn't alone. The banshees hissed, adding to the reminder. "Git." 

"I will kill you, demon," Laniakea promised, rubbing his bruising wrists. "My father will wear you as a cloak!"

"If he's anything like you, I ain't scared," Miles shot back, tail whipping in the air. 

They watched the scavengers flee in their boats, being smart enough to leave the bodies they tried to take. 

The Colonel picked up a fang that got knocked out, smirking at it. 

"Souvenir?" Lyle joked, tail swaying. 

"I was thinking of making my own Waytelem, the song cord thing. I'll surprise Spider with it. This' when we sent some little bastards crying to mama after saving some tulkun."

He held the bloodied tooth, looking proud. It was a good sight. 

"I'll have to start one of those, too. All the little things mean something, then?" he inquired, curious. 

"That's right. I've been carving little bits and pieces; I want to give them to Spider when I'm done."

"Hard to believe he was that little scamp. Godson's all grown up and crushing on that Delta girl."

"Majorly. I better not end up a grandpa at twenty."

"I'll back you up."

"You got my back so much you're practically attached to me. Not that I'm complaining. I'd be dead as shit if I didn't have your dumbass around." 

"Same. Literally."

The duo spent at least three hours finding bodies, burying them, making gravestones from sticks and wrapping those song cords around them. It was all they could do. They knew the village saw one another as family, but a mass grave felt disrespectful. 

They didn't have weapons per se; they looked like fishing tools meant to take on rougher fish. Perhaps this clan of people hunted Tsurak for food? It was possible. 

Knowing that they never stood a chance was heartbreaking. It could've all come from a Sea Wasp without them realising what was happening. 

So unnecessary and wasteful, a disgusting act of malice. 

Who gave them the orders to do this? How many other villages are under attack?

These people can't catch a break. 

After the three-hour mark, however, something intriguing happened. His banshee had wandered off to the island, looking for a snack, only to return with a young kid. 

Instead of another body to bury, this one was alive. Given the ropes around his arms and cuts on his chest, he was with Laniakea's gang. They must've dumped him here before he and Quaritch arrived. 

What were they doing with the kid?

The Recombinants waited for the kid to wake up, which took another two hours. He wasn't happy to see them, and his arm seemed broken. 

"Calm. We're not with them," Miles attempted, but the kid kept screaming at them. 

He had a decent pair of lungs. 

"Deja. Not Kxeìnge. Friends," Lyle tried, but his accent was barely thinner than Miles'. It was easier learning Mandarin. "We are friends."

"Friends of Kuäma," Miles added, gesturing to his necklace. This time, the kid stopped crying, seeming to calm at the sight of it. "I am Miles. This is Lyle. Your name?"

"Aukai Te Mora Kaiyō'itan," the boy said, ears flat, frightened of the pair of Ikran behind them. 

"Whiskey is friend," Lyle smiled, motioning for the dumbass to join them. As expected, Whiskey lowered his head, trilling to the boy. "Is friend. Can pet him."

The boy hesitantly reached out, and Whiskey closed the gap, rubbing his snout on the boy's hand. 

Aukai wasn't as scared, finding a spot to scratch the friendly Ikran to his heart's content. He loved a good scratch under the chin. 

"We take you home. You show us the way?" the Colonel tried, struggling with his words. "We fly. We take you home." 

It'll be night soon, possibly in three hours or so. They should get back before then, however. 

Aukai looked like he was going to cry, launching himself into Lyle's arms, hiding his face in his shirt. He patted the boy's back, hoping to put him at ease. 

"We'll follow you," Quaritch said, quickly getting on Cupcake's back. 

With Aukai having decided, he picked the boy up, making their way to Whiskey's saddle. He put Aukai in front where Miles did with Spider, keeping him steady as he got on.

When he made the connection, Whiskey chirped, getting used to the added weight. 

They took off into the sky, the boy having to get used to the sky for the first time. 

Lyle held an arm over the kid's waist, securing him to Whiskey's saddle. As expected, the young teen was frightened of being in the air. 

The best they could do direction-wise was the kid pointing. He seemed to recognise landmarks, or sea marks, which was helpful. They even passed over another village, though it wasn't Aukai's. 

Seeing Miles and Cupcake gliding beside them was great. 

Lyle felt fantastic. He was helping a kid after an exciting mini-mission with the Colonel. Being able to taste the air and smell freshly fired guns was exhilarating. 

So was meeting those space whales. 

His flying friend inquired about something interesting - the concept of spirit kin. He wanted to call Lyle his spirit brother, feeling deeply connected to him. 

That felt right. 

Whiskey was like a little brother that could fly and had epic teeth. 

As they soared, Aukai started yelling, pointing to a little island with glowing lights. That must be his home. 

Understanding what the noise meant, the Colonel dove, Lyle quickly following him. The teen held onto Lyle, startled by the sudden descent. For his sake, Whiskey tried to be slow and do it smoothly. 

Their arrival frightened and alarmed the people, many of whom appeared wounded. 

Laniakea's buddies must've ambushed them and kidnapped Aukai for some reason. 

With help from Miles, Aukai found his way to the beach, tears welling up in his eyes. The word he yelled was one that Lyle knew well - Sa'nok. It meant "mother". 

A woman broke through the amassing crowd, fear and worry in her blue eyes. She held open arms for her son, grasping him tightly, whispering sweetness into his ears. 

Reuniting a family is an excellent way to end the day. 

"Reminds me of when Matt and Xiang got scared whenever it rained," Lyle said, trying to push away those memories. "Matthew was terrified of storms."

"Sounds like he was a good kid."

"He was." 

"I might say something stupid, and I apologise beforehand. That shouldn't have happened, but I'm glad to have met you, Lyle."

He was trying to be considerate but not pity Lyle; he hated that. 

Pitying someone was bullshit. 

"I hate it, but I'm glad to have met you too, sir."

"Y'know that you can call me Miles, don't you? Ain't like I'm going to stay a Colonel when we dip."

"Nah. You were born a Colonel. Twice!"

The other Recom playfully hit Lyle's shoulder. 

It's not wrong, though. He'll always be the Colonel to Lyle, the man he followed to death and afterwards. 

The fact that he was built like a blueberry bubblegum adonis was a bonus. 

An important-looking man walked to them, relief plastered across his heavily tattooed face. 

"You save my son," he said, his English broken but better than Laniakea's. Who taught them English? "He said that you rescued him from the Kxeìnge." 

"From Laniakea and his buddies," Lyle clarified, irritated by him. "We sent him home with bruises. If they come after you again, we'll deal with it." 

He didn't want to kill young people. However, he was trained to pacify assholes.

Someday, his skills will be trained on Ardmore and her cronies. For now, the Kxeìnge are in his crosshairs. 

The woman raised her hand, informing what must be her mate to step back. With Aukai hugging her side, she inspected Lyle and Miles. 

They stood firm, watching her curiously. 

"The Daughter has seen you," she said, looking at Quaritch's neck. "You're the demons we heard about who helped the Muolhaweng. And again, you come to our aid, saving our dear son."

Oh, shit. Is Aukai the kid of the leaders?

"Before that, we stopped the hunting on Tulkun. They were confused about why we could hear them."

"Hear?" the Olo'eyktan questioned, looking stunned. "You spoke to you?"

"It was amazing," Lyle smiled, his ears twitching upwards. He took the beacon from Whiskey's saddle, showing it to them. "If a Tulkun has this on them, they're marked for death. Make sure others know and can warn the Tulkun. If they get hit, we'll handle it." 

They have a lot to make up for. 

The Tsahik and Olo'eyktan nodded, relaying the information in their native tongue. The few that weren't injured ran off, calling for Ilu and swimming away. 

Word spreads fast in the sea. 

"I am Karagatan Te Mora Nirveli'ite, Tsahik of the Kallan. This is my mate, Kaiyō Te Mora Aerwyna'itan," Karagatan said, gesturing for "I see you". Though they looked stupid, the Recoms tried reciprocating. "We are indebted to you, strangers. If what Äonghai said was true, then you wish to be one with us?"

"That's right," Miles nodded, tail waving behind him.

Cupcake leaned over him, rubbing her head against his face. 

Lyle loved how affectionate she was, despite trying to come off as a loner like Firefly. 

"He said go to the Makalo, I think," Lyle said, ears fanning out when the Tsahik hissed at him. 

"Maka'alo," she corrected. "You know nothing of the sea or its ways. The Maka'alo will test you before accepting you. For saving our son, we will teach you the sea."

"Thank you," Lyle and Miles said, appeasing her. 

"Where'd you learn English?" the Colonel asked, curious.

"Many sky people come before Toruk Makto pushed them from our lands before bringing them back to us," Kaiyō explained, ears pinning at Sully's nickname. "We have been listening for sky people, learning and anticipating. You will show us how to fight them."

"We can do that," Lyle grinned, feeling a kinship forming. "Happy to be of service to you, Olo'eyktan and Tsahik of the Kallan."

This is going to be the start of a brilliant alliance. 

Chapter Text

It was one of the best days of Lyle's life. 

Getting back was wild, telling the guys about their adventure out there. They were jealous of their escapades. It was brilliant.

He loved seeing Miles smile as he told Spider about their time away, saying overly pleasant things about Lyle. It was true, but hearing it from him was a little much. 

And he got answers from Garvin, too. That beacon was to track the Tulkun to harvest from them; a slime in their brain called Amrita. The stuff supposedly stopped human ageing. 

Disgustingly, they would target a cow because she would be slow for the calf's sake. It made them ill when Garvin explained, and he didn't look happy, either. If up to Lyle, he would nuke Bridgehead for creating the ships that do such horrors. 

It was intriguing to watch Scarlett, and her science buddies, get giddy that the Recoms could hear the Tulkun. All of them did. She even played a recording, and all of them could understand what it was saying - it was a song of some kind, like an opera. 

Watching Miles get excited with his sister was too cute. Too much. 

He had to go to bed and shrug off his annoying feelings. It wouldn't go, however.

It got worse in bed, however. His mind crafted explicit and delicious images that he couldn't escape from. 

Many nights were like this, Lyle wandering through Hell's Gate but in his Recombinant body. Nobody was around, which wasn't surprising; it wasn't the focus of his mind. He knew where the goal was. Lyle tried to resist every time, but he never succeeded. 

He didn't want to succeed, either. The confines of the land of dreams were his only way of indulging those powerful feelings, that need which only worsened with this new, young body. 

It's the main hangar where all the Samsons, Scorpions and AMP Suits had called home. And in a specific corner was where he wanted to be, a show that always delivered. 

The Colonel, flat on his back, legs apart, pushing weights. Since coming back from death, the image of a human was replaced by a blue giant. 

He always looked good; it was one of the first things Lyle realised when the lunatic dragged him from the wreckage. However, he was something else as a Recom. He'd be a liar if he said he wasn't excited by someone being taller than him. 

Lei was several inches taller than him, one of the reasons he got so attracted to her. He liked big people. 

There was something about Miles that never let up, however.

Not only because of his fantastic looks but his drive. It was the determination and passion to succeed and keep everyone safe. Even when sick, the lunatic would work on the double and piss off the upper crust with every step. They would've gotten rid of him, but he got the results wanted. 

Although a part of him is hurt because it isn't him, it's as good as Lyle will get. 

"The planet's low gravity will make you soft," grunted a voice that could melt his bones. "You get soft-" he started again, putting the weights on the rack above him. He sat up with a smirk, continuing, "Pandora will shit you dead with zero warning." 

It was a repeated line to newbies, a piece of advice for them. Sometimes it'd frighten them, and all the SecOps found it funny. 

The image of him was terrifyingly accurate, the bulge of his muscles and how that alien nose would twitch. It's more like a bunny nose than a feline one. Those cropped ears were expressive, flicking and twitching at every sound, his tail dancing behind him. 

What he wore, however, was the Colonel's old outfit from his human life. It was one of Lyle's favourites, especially after a drive in an AMP suit. 

"Are you gonna be soft?" the "Colonel" questioned, ears pointing up like little devil horns. 

He was fine before, but Miles looked dangerous now, a blue tiger that Lyle wanted nothing more than to caress. 

"No chance in hell, sir," Lyle grinned, unable to refuse such an invitation, whether his mind conjured it or otherwise. 

"That's what I like to hear." 

It's instant, no fluffy crap in the way, only two blue bodies clashing against each other. 

He couldn't think, only experience the battle between mouths and gripping hands. He had to hold that thick ass, feeling Miles' tail sap against his arms as it wagged wildly. It was never the same twice, but there was always a hybrid of squish and hard muscle. 

While the fangs should be a deterrent, they were exciting. He loved how it felt when they scraped against his tongue and lips. 

The duo stumbled backwards with Miles' back pressed against the metal grating that sectioned off his workout area. They didn't stop, however. The only thing that made them pull apart was the desperate burn for air. 

The sight was one to marvel at, beautiful and needed to be framed somewhere.

Miles' face was flushed purple, breathing heavily, and his yellow eyes fogged with lust and need. There were faint scratches on his lips from Lyle's teeth, and that bunny-like nose was flaring for the fight for air. It was cute, and he couldn't help but kiss it. 

That man is his bunny. 

He started to remove Miles' offending shirt, obscuring that great body. Thanks to the shower, he knew much more about what Miles looked like.

Those pretty glowing freckles, the cute shark on his hip and his dark nipples. He was there immediately, suckling on them as Miles pulled down his pants with his feet. 

Lyle's cock was heavy and aching, lusting for Miles' addictive body. 

There are a lot of differences between Na'vi and human genitalia. Their cocks are completely prehensile, like a freaky tentacle arm. They're slightly bumpy, ridged on the bottom and possess weird tendrils like what's on the end of their queues. 

His favourite part is that they're self-lubricating. 

In their first week, he, Lopez and Ja had already figured out how good it felt. The little Mexican loved how he could "salute" himself, while Ja was happy he didn't need to aim anymore; free hands for god knew what. 

For all of it, though, Lyle imagined it was the man that he died and returned for. 

What he would give to taste him for real. 

Growling, Lyle lifted one of Miles' thighs, bringing his leg over his back. His tail waved, excited and anticipating a great time. He pulled his arm under Miles' slutty waist as the "Colonel" crossed his powerful legs around Lyle's hips. 

He didn't argue, grinding his aching groin into that delicious ass. A big bonus about Recom bodies is that the only hair is on your head, tail and face. 

What's the evolutionary reason for ass hair anyway?

With his cock almost dripping with natural lubricant, getting inside the source of his lust wasn't an issue. The heat and feeling of powerful muscles contracting around him were comparable to an orgasm while a human. He loved the roaring sensations burning up his nerves like fire upon oil. 

Miles grits his teeth, only making small grunts, like when Lyle gave him that warm back massage. He was a muffler, someone that didn't want to make noise.

However, Lyle was hungry for that noise; he was starving for it. 

Reaching up, Lyle gripped the base of Miles' queue thing, thrusting sharply into the bigger man soon after. While he could only imagine the sounds he could make, they were like audible, forbidden nectar.

He was a thief in the Garden of Eden and heard a song meant only for a god, and he'd cherish it. 

Lyle gently pulled Miles' queue back, forcing him to sing and leaving his neck open for kissing. He wanted to feel those sounds vibrate up his throat and lightly bite him, leaving a reminder of what he could do. 

What Lyle would do for this man. 

He felt Miles' hand grab the back of his neck, holding on as Lyle ground into his tight heat. 

When Lyle leaned back, wishing to see the ecstasy in those burning eyes, nearing sweet oblivion. 

Lyle felt his world shatter as he saw two arrows sticking out of Miles' chest. 

Three words hit him in the soul.

"Where were you?"

His back and tail screamed as he collided with the solid floor, the blanket awkwardly wrapped around his nude body. The Recom could barely breathe, those words echoing in his ears on repeat. 

Why wasn't Lyle there? Why was the Colonel alone? Fuck, Miles. 

Those arrows as big as a man sticking out of his chest, all to save a bastard that screwed over everybody. 

Feeling panic and adrenaline burst through his veins, Lyle needed to see that it wasn't real; he needed it. 

The Recom scampered to his feet, almost knocking the door to his room off its hinges as he ran through. He didn't intend to choose the room directly across from Miles; he felt Scarlett had something to do with that. 

He couldn't think when he entered, seeing Miles laying there, face smushed in the pillow and blanket covering his upper half. The guy looked lifeless, not even a twitch of his expressive tail. 

That only made the panic worse, exacerbating the image of those two damn arrows. 

Lyle grabbed Miles' shoulder, pushing him up to see his chest. He was too hyperfocused to anticipate a fist to the face. 

It was his fault, of course.

After falling on his ass, holding his soon-to-be blackeye, his ears flinched at a threatening growl. That's new. 

The Lieutenant watched his commanding officer, analysing the threatening scowl; Miles wasn't there, only the primal instinct to survive. His tail was waving angrily, ears back and upper lip peeling back to show teeth. It reminded him of a pissed-off Thanator. 

It was almost magical watching as Miles emerged, life returning to those brilliant yellow eyes, his face softening into the man he loved. 

His chest was clear of marks, putting that stupid terror to rest.

"Shit," Miles growled, hopping off the too-small bed to check his Lieutenant. "What's happened?" the Colonel asked, aware that he wouldn't have been woken up unless it was an emergency.

It wasn't. A dumb wet dream turned nightmare. 

He wasn't in control, though; Lyle's mouth moved without him.

"Arrows," the man said, his voice hoarse and despicably pathetic. 

"Arrows?" his best friend questioned, those pointy ears up, alert and paying attention.

He didn't want to lie. It felt wrong, lying, but he couldn't think of anything else. 

"Just a stupid nightmare; I'm sorry, sir," Lyle huffed, ears flat against his head in shame.

He tried to look away from the Colonel, but Miles had other ideas. That wasn't the issue; it was that he placed his hand on the back of his neck.

It was impossible not to imagine that scene again, but real. 

"Ain't falling for that, Lieutenant. I can smell it; something fucked with you, and it's got something to do with arrows." 

What else could he smell?

Pushing that aside, Lyle tried telling a half-truth. 

"Arrows shootin' through the forest, hitting everyone like what happened to Fike and Walker, sticking out of everybody. You got hit in the chest, and it all freaked me out. Wasn't thinking."

 Everything would be so much easier if Miles didn't look so sympathetic. 

"I envy y'all a little, not knowing how you died," he admitted, hurting Lyle's soul. "It's not just that I was dead; I was left there. I always knew I'd die on this moon and wanted to be buried next to our brothers, sisters, and in between - it was something else to see otherwise." 

"We'll have to change that," he blurted out, not meaning to. "Though it'll be a bit weird; we'll have to bring a box or bag for your old ass bones."

"You weren't exactly a young buck yourself, cheeky bastard. And at least I died with hair."

"Dude, not the alopecia jab." 

"Maybe a little too far, I'll take that," his CO said, sitting across from him. "Shit will be different here. We'll make sure of it." 

"Oorah."

"Oorah, indeed."

Lyle went to stand, but Miles kept his hand on Lyle's shoulder. 

Heat flushed to his face, and it was hard to hide.

"Sir?"

"Get your shit and get it in here. If it happens again, you can see I'm fine and go back to sleep. Can't have my right-hand man nodding off, can I?"

Why is he so fucking beautiful in looks, voice and soul? 

Even if he wanted to, he wouldn't be able to refuse orders like that. 

"No, sir."

"Attaboy."

Damn straight. 

He hoped that Lyle was alright. 

"Give me all you know about the Kallan folk," Quaritch said, tail waving sharply. The human folk needed to keep their distance, aware of the power in the thin limb. "Got the Tsahik and Olo'eyktan's name and the kid. Need more than that."

Quaritch refrained from mentioning Laniakea for now. He wasn't sure how to discuss it. 

A confusing thing is how Laniakea called him a demon. That's something his clan worships - right? If that were so, why call him that? It confused him. 

"The Kallan are part of an alliance between certain clans called Bleed Together. From what we already know, that's at least sixteen clans - excluding the reef clans," Rosa Medvidović stated, bringing up several symbols for those clans. "Thanks to the RDA, it's taken a long time to figure out who are allies with who - many have put aside their differences over those assholes."

Understandable. 

Medvidović brought up an image of the Tsahik, Olo'eyktan and the kid; he didn't know about the other four people. 

His ears perked, curious. 

"The Tsahik Karagatan and Olo'eyktan Kaiyō have five children - Saagar, Paroo, Naia, Samudra and Aukai. They haven't been overly friendly with outsiders, even fellow reef clans," Doctor Stone sighed, crossing his beefy arms. They weren't as big as Lyle's, though. "You're a lucky bastard managing to get a place with them." 

"Even luckier that you can commune with the Tulkun," Scarlett continued as she wrote something on her tablet. "Having them as friends will help get a place in the sea clans."

"And the others in the Bleed Together alliance," the Samoan doctor continued, nodding. "When the Maka'alo accept you, will you join them, Colonel?"

That was an easy answer. 

"This island is our home now, and the people here are our clan. We're the Deja. Getting into that alliance will do more than help us; we can show them how to hit back where it hurts." 

Quaritch can train them. He can show them how to use weapons, take control of the machines and forge a border the RDA shouldn't dare cross. They can keep Bridgehead, but the rest of Pandora is their home. You're either friend or foe; pussies that dance in the grey area has no place in the new age. 

Eywa's little rules about stone upon stone and wheels worked fine when the Na'vi were secluded. That won't fly anymore. The old ways will be respected, but they must adapt to survive. Rigidness is a death sentence; adaptability ensures survival. 

Adapt. Survive. Overcome. Like that weird guy that his brother was obsessed with in their teens. Bear-somebody. Bear Gill? No, that's a stupid name - it sounded more like a Pandoran fish than a name. 

Speaking of, he needs to learn about the fish of the ocean. 

"We're more than happy to be a part of that," Scarlett smirked, hand on her hip. "A clan made up of humans and Recombinants; that's certainly a rare thing."

"Unique is in our genes, Little Bug."

Even if it's to their detriment. 

They'll learn the Na'vi way and do more for the people. The archipelago here will be his Hell's Gate; he won't stand for bullshit. The RDA won't hunt the Tulkun in these waters so long as one member of Deja is still standing - the RDA can kill them, but they'll regroup in hell. 

He's already escaped death once. He'll do it again. 

For his son, his team, Little Bug and her family, and the sea people. History will not repeat itself on this moon. 

"I have a suggestion," Medvidović started, earning his attention. "My son Valtazar came up with it, really - you can lie to the RDA that by understanding their ways more, you can build trust and "narrow down" Jake's location."

"I like how your boy thinks," Quaritch smirked, tail almost wagging. "I'll have el-Samara send the message. If Ardmore thinks she can send some spies, then she should've chosen someone I didn't already know."  

Reyah's situation is curious. Her body is perfect for the reefs and sea. She'll either disturb or enthral the Kallan people.

He can't say for the others, however. For now, Quaritch has to keep them in the dark and only provide basic information. Until he can be confident in their motivations as undead blues, he's keeping them at arm's length. 

As soon as he finds out who the plant is, he'll uproot them and feed them to the banshees. 

"Be opened minded, Milly," Scarlett said, her voice softening. He knew what she was referring to and didn't want to confront that today. "And look after yourselves when you're out there, Cher."

"Now you sound like ol' Grams," Quaritch huffed, barely remembering that old coot anymore. "Though less voodoo-y." 

Grandma was into that wild crap. Most of that family, when still alive, followed the Jewish ways, but Grams was different. She was a full-on priestess, sacrificing rodents and stuff.

She'd ramble about old stuff he didn't understand; it didn't matter to him as a kid. Given the weirdness of Pandora, there could've been more to it. 

It'd be easier to remember if her accent wasn't so thick. There's Cajun, and then there was Grandma.

"Be sure to bring something back for me, Milly."

"And the kids," he promised, wondering what he could get for his nieces and nephew. 

"If I may," Doctor Stone started, snatching his attention. "I suggest taking Delta with you. I worry for the girl, but she's spent longer with the sea clans than us. She could put the Tsahik at ease if they're concerned about us."

He got the feeling that it was more than that. For most of Delta's life, she lived amongst the sea people. It'll make her feel better to spend time with them again. 

And since he's bringing Spider, the duo gets to bond more. 

"I take it you're her guardian, Doc?"

Tyson nodded, getting a sympathetic pat on the back from Rosa. 

"My boy, Rhett, befriended her early on; my son is the boy with vitiligo, something from his mother. All we have left of her," Doctor Stone sighed, still grieving the loss of his partner. "If my Moana were still here, she'd demand that we give that girl a good home. I can't give her everything she needs, but I can give her someone to rely on."

"Certainly hard when you don't know all of their histories," Quaritch sympathised, ears flicking upwards. "She's a good friend to Spider and my guys. Little scamp teases them endlessly, especially Lopez."

"I think she has a crush on your son," he admitted, chuckling a little.

Scarlett smiled, waving her hand in mock feint, mouthing "young love". 

The only ones who'd yet to realise were Delta and Spider. Being oblivious to someone's affections sounded exactly like Quaritch, unfortunately. He's unable to register people being interested in him; it was always a shock when a gal came up and made an offer. 

He probably looked like an idiot when Topaz came out of nowhere, bursting into his office and all but demanding they ruin his desk. She always got what she wanted. 

Hopefully, Spider has more of his mama's instinct towards attraction than Quaritch.

"So long as I don't end up a granddad at twenty, I don't mind. Let them make each other happy. They understand each other better than we can." 

His son deserves to start a relationship, even if it's platonic, like what he has with Sterling and probably Rhett.

It'll be good for him, even if it doesn't end great. 

Spider deserves so much, and it hurts him to know that it took until recently for him to get that. 

"That's nicer than the talk you gave to my exes."

"It worked, didn't it?" Quaritch grinned, earning an eye roll from Little Bug. "Scared off all them assholes, and you got yourself a nice guy."

"Does that mean you won't scare Ian anymore?"

"I'm your brother. I'll always be scary to him. It'll give him the incentive to stay nice. I see them girls cry once - Cupcake's getting a snack." 

"If anybody makes my daughters cry, you'll be the least of their worries."

"That's my girl."

Scarlett turned out fantastic. He's proud of her. 

It gave him hope that he could be a good guardian for Spider. He deserved as much. 

With the information he wanted, Quaritch bid his sister and her compatriots farewell. It's going to be one of many busy days. 

The team were already outside, waiting for him. He clocked Reed and O'Brien's nervousness; something was up with them. Currently, they're at the top of the list of suspects. 

His son was watching Delta swimming, visibly less confident than her. Amusingly, Reyah was hitting her new tail against the water, much to Ja and Kane's amusement. 

Cupcake, his sister from the skies, descended from one of the floating islands. She croaked, eager to get flying. 

"Fall in!" Quaritch shouted, watching as his guys got in line first. The newbies were slow.

His son and Delta looked tiny compared to them, even when next to Lopez. 

"What's the mission, sir?" Prager asked, tail accidentally hitting Arondóttir's. She hissed, startled by the unfamiliar sensation. 

He'll have to brief the rookies about that. It's hard getting used to the new limb, but soon enough, it's like it was always there. 

"Same as it's always been, Corporal. Fanning the flames hasn't worked; the more heat we apply, the more our target runs like a damned cockroach. We're going a different route," Quaritch stated, trusting his guys to know what he meant.

"This Jack nobody must be a real dick if Ardmore's got all of us after a single guy," Kane said, her relaxed posture betraying that she wasn't a soldier, more like a mercenary. She didn't bother remembering Jake's name, which was a good sign. "Is he Jason Bloody Borne or something? Alien John Wick?"

He only understood one of those references but knew they were somehow synonymous. 

"No," he answered, waving his tail sharply. "To the Na'vi, we're demons, evil motherfuckers; they won't give up Sully to us if we go guns blazing. We'll pull a page from Sully's book; we get in close with the na'vi, learn how they navigate the sea and then narrow down where that bastard's hiding."

"You've managed to locate a na'vi willing to teach us?" O'Brien questioned, confused. "Even though we're, as you so lovingly put it, "evil motherfuckers"?"

"Came across them on our patrol out at sea," Lyle continued for him, ears flicking. "We happened to have kicked one of their enemies' where the sun doesn't shine, so it's like a return of a favour." 

"The enemy of my enemy is my friend," Reed mused, curious. "Say we do learn their ways and such. How will it narrow down Sully's location?"

"Sully's taken his kids with him. Since they don't belong out here, they'll have to earn their keep, so they'll be learning too. If we master the sea before them, that's an instant advantage and makes for easier capture. I've lost enough people over this fucker." 

It was painful to see Spider cringe at the mention of his friends. However, his son understands that he doesn't mean it. If it were up to Quaritch, he'd say it straight, but he can't trust the new guys. When, or if he can, things can go back to how it was. 

He wants to be transparent for his boy, but they must operate in the shadows. 

"Lopez, you take Arondóttir. Ja, you've got Reed. Prager, you have Reyah. Zdinarsk, you're taking Kane. Mansk, you have O'Brien. Lyle, you're taking Delta. Spider, you're with me," Quaritch ordered, watching as his son beamed at the idea of Delta joining them.

"Why do I get she-hulk!?" Lopez whined as his banshee croaked, huffing at Arondóttir. 

"Because you're the smallest, making it easier on Zelda," Quaritch stated as he helped Spider onto Cupcake's saddle. He hopped on soon after, connecting with her. At least Zelda found some humour in it. "Rookies, you respect the banshees, and they'll respect you. Except for Firefly and Shredder - they got issues." 

He gave the most suspicious guys the least friendly banshees - Shredder would rip Reed to pieces, and Firefly might eat O'Brien regardless of orders. 

Lyle helped Delta, securing her against him as Whiskey took off first, roaring with excitement. 

It was hilarious watching Reed cling to Prager's back, terrified. 

"You good?" Spider snickered, entertained by Reed's supposed fear of heights. 

"What do you think!?" Reed hissed angrily. 

Cupcake snapped before Quaritch could, hissing at the man's attitude toward her "spirit nephew". 

Interestingly, Whiskey had chatted with the other banshees over feeling like a spiritual kin to his rider - Cupcake agreed with him. 

As far as she was concerned, Quaritch was her spirit brother, the idiot that thought punching her was a good idea. 

This will be fun.

Chapter Text

Getting new folk always sucked. It disrupted the proceedings of everything at Hell's Gate. 

The brochures always omitted certain pieces of information about Pandora.

Your ass is on backward for a week after Cryo, so you're jumpy and adapting to a whole alien moon is freaky. He's been on the ball of rock for twelve years, which still surprises him. 

A bunch of new soldiers, mercenaries or idiots that knew how to use a gun for the SecOps. More ducks for Augustine's pond. Extra moles for the miners. New families that didn't know what they signed up for. 

He gave the same pep talk to the fresh batch of future problems. Most of them had never seen an animal or plant in their lifetime; Earth ruined that a long time ago. Even pet cats were going extinct now. 

At least three of them would be dead in the first week. 

Now that Grace has her fresh puppeteers, she can finally make the Omaticaya change tree. The upper babies are fed up with waiting for their material. 

There is a certain satisfaction to watching the new drivers link up with their meat suits, though. There's always a bet on how long before they're sick. 

"I still don't agree with it," Fike huffed, annoyed. 

"You almost sound surprised," Quaritch said coldly, observing as Patel poked one of his tablets. As usual, el-Samara was giddy; she bet fifteen caps on Dopey going first. "Kid's brother died, and they swooped in like flies to shit. Tale as old as time." 

The same story for most of the sorry bastards on this moon. 

"At least we can run for our lives. The kid's in a wheelchair. How's he going to run from them wolves?"

"I've picked Chacon, Warren and Wainfleet for their first outing. If Doc follows the procedure for once in her life, it should go smoothly." 

When it came from the ginger, that was unlikely. He'd put more sanctions in if it didn't make the higher-ups get their panties in a knot.

It never gets old. Even Parker occasionally chuckled at their ire at the woman's audacity. They hired her; not his problem. 

Quaritch felt his body tense and stiffen, another episode. He's managed to condition his body to where it's barely noticeable.

How are the people meant to have faith that he'll protect them if he randomly blanks?

"Sure, and you're not a redneck hick."

"I will backhand you back to Ohio." 

"Yes, Massa."

Why did his friends have to be such assholes?

"Fifty on Dopey," Quaritch stated, not touching that with a mile-long pole. If he doesn't acknowledge the joke, then they'll focus it on idiots that do find it funny. 

"You're on, old man." 

"I'm only five years older than you, Sean." 

"Yea, but I don't look like wet crinkled paper with silver on top."

"Two weeks bathroom duty."

"Worth it." 

Patel made a gross comment about the image of the new kid's brain. Somehow, a lump of grey matter not even strong enough to turn on a lightbulb is "gorgeous". There's nothing beautiful about a brain; it's nasty. 

He looked into the window, encouraging the duo to follow him, observing the giant blue bodies. They were Omaticaya; Augustine was obsessed with that single clan. 

In Quaritch's opinion, the Pämìawng are far prettier and more durable. They were strong bastards; he had great respect for them. 

Even the Tipani and he's still busting his ass over paperwork them. Thanks to Able Ryder going rogue for the Tipani, the RDA weren't happy about them.

Tough tits. If not for their help, the Ayroa would still be causing havoc. If they wanted to have Able as their buddy, so be it; he liked that kid. 

He still owed their leader a favour. With Ryder as Beyda’amo's mate now, it'll make communication easier. What little na'vi Quaritch knows was shit; his accent was too thick. 

"Aren't the avatars meant to have flat noses?" Fike questioned Patel, startling the man. "Dopey's got a damn horn on his face."

"Sometimes there's more human DNA than na'vi," Patel answered, intimidated by Sean. He nearly fainted at seeing Quaritch. "Oh, um, hello, Sir."

"Fuck off, Genghis," Grace grunted, almost shoving past him to look through the window. "I'm going in. Keep the Jarheads from breaking anything else."

Thank you, Miles, for bringing me these two for my futile project; it was so generous of you. 

"She's in a good mood," he said sarcastically, earning a hum of agreement from Patel.

"You've done scans of the kid. How bad's the injury?" Fike asked, his intense gaze making Patel more anxious. 

When it came to something scientific, Patel was calm. 

"Nothing that we can fix here," Patel answered, doing something on his tablet. "He's lucky; most injuries like that to the spine cause complete tetraplegia. It's still early for repair, but even a rotation here won't save enough to afford it." 

It's bad enough the kid is here. What little pay they get is still better than most places on Earth; too small to do any help, though. 

When Ellie had an accident at fifteen, she was almost paralysed. He and Nathan could barely eat for nearly a year because of the debt they had to pay off. 

He'll have to have a look into where he acquired the injury. 

Quaritch returned his attention to the blue bodies as they started moving. 

Aubrianna Nixon, Sean Kennedy and Harold Hughes were the quacks dressed up like astronauts caring for the blue bodies. He's only talked with Kennedy a few times; Kennedy was struggling with alcoholism and untreated schizophrenia. So long as he took his medication and kept away from booze, however, Quaritch didn't care. 

Brown was nice enough to be a buddy for him. That kid's always been sweet, even when Ja and Lyle ripped on him. 

If he didn't know better, he'd think that Aiden had a crush on Kennedy. He's too far up Prager's ass for that, though. 

The man briefly wondered if Prager and Lyle together had sex with every person on base that was open to it; they were proud of being manwhores. Amazingly, Quaritch was the one that got someone pregnant and not them. 

Miles' naptime will end in half an hour, so he's got time to watch the newbies before it's his turn to watch the tyke. Currently, Miles is fascinated by anything with wheels. 

Fike leaned back as the new kid wiggled his toes, visibly annoyed. 

It's like dangling a carrot, letting him taste it before ripping it away. Although cruel, there isn't much they can do about it. 

Sully took his moment to stand up, exploiting this new body. Fair enough, honestly. It's not like he was trained to do otherwise, either. 

The RDA wanted a blue Jarhead? They've got one. 

Watching the kid cause chaos was hilarious. It was hysterical, as well as Dopey's reaction to it. 

"I like this kid," Fike said, approving their new little brother, even if he was technically in a different department.

Marines stick together. 

"Uppers bit off more than they could chew."

"Oorah to that, Sir."

The new kid used the glass to keep himself steady, a big grin on his face. It must've been the first time in a while that he could stand again. While the quacks were more interested in keeping the blue body intact, Quaritch was curious. 

While Patel tried to tell the kid to sit down, Sully wasn't listening. He pulled the leads off and left the room, going outside, tail wagging.

That's a marine, alright. Ready to sink his teeth into whatever awaited him. 

Dopey got up next, trying to go after Sully. Amusingly, he was the first to go, meaning Fike owed him fifty caps. 

"This isn't funny," Patel grunted, quickly remembering who he was talking to. The man was like a mouse. "He'll seriously-"

"What? Hurt the puppet?" Fike questioned, shaking his head. "Nah. That kid got every right to walk out of here."

"And if it goes wrong, he'll have learned," Quaritch added, amused. "If you cool your tits for a second, you can start jotting down notes on the first soldier in an avatar body - that should tickle something behind those glasses." 

"Hey! Who was sick first!?" el-Samara yelled from somewhere in the lab. When Fike told her, she almost ripped her hijab off. "Fuck you, Miles!"

At least some of the quacks didn't have chronic sticks up their behinds. 

A fresh-faced marine at eighteen thrown headfirst into the shitshow of Venezuela was abhorrent. The kid lasted two years out there, longer than he should've. He fought hard until an asshole with a K15-Thunderbird ended his journey. 

Patel wasn't lying. The kid was lucky to have survived, let alone only lose his legs. He couldn't afford the surgery, so they tossed him aside like trash. Only two years later, his brother was dead, and he was shipped to Pandora. 

Quaritch didn't know how he would've survived without Nathaniel constantly on his ass. Losing a sibling is agonising, but when it's your twin, that's something else. You were together since the womb; nothing hurts like that. 

He requested Chacon to invite Sully to the hangar, a friendly face he'll be working with. 

While waiting, Quaritch bench-pressed in his mini gym. It wasn't anything grand, but it didn't need to be. 

It's strange to recognise that you're getting old. He's fifty-one, not an age he expected to reach. Well, this year, it isn't October yet. It's only May. 

The Colonel can hear Chacon talking amongst the drills, flying sparks and chatter. She brought Sully over a little early, but that's a good thing; Trudy is a woman who loves punctuality. It's one of the many things he respects about her. 

The new kid wheeled into the entrance of his gym, pausing. 

"You wanted to see me, Colonel?" the kid said, sounding detached. His voice is cold and empty with familiar, subdued grief. 

Lieutenant Dodson found out that the kid was found outside a bar after a fight a mere hour before he saw Thomas' body. The kid's a fighter; he was eager to be treated equally. Of course, Dodson obliged. His report on all the folk getting off that ship was detailed to the point of boredom. 

Dodson also helped pull the kid's records, even the classified stuff. Although the kid wasn't on active duty for long, he was a model soldier, a born marine.

The science pukes have their way of communicating, and so do the Marines. At Hell's Gate, they're like opposing tribes that are only together because they have to. 

Camaraderie is all they have these days. 

"This low gravity'll make you soft," Quaritch said, feeling Mama's ring scrape against his other fingers. "You get soft-" he grunted, shoving the bar back onto the rack, "Pandora will shit you out dead with zero warning," Quaritch continued, sitting up to face the new kid. 

As usual, the kid couldn't help but look at his giant scar. It was hard to miss. 

That Thanator picked the wrong asshole to try and eat. 

He's got several, all with stories he didn't want to tell. The most prized was Ellie's tattoo, even though he couldn't afford the colours she wanted. It kept a piece of her close to him, though. 

The Colonel felt everything freeze for a few seconds, mildly irritated. Hopefully, the kid didn't notice. 

"I pulled your records, Corporal. Venezuela - now, that was some mean bush," Quaritch continued, observing the kid's reactions. "Nothing like this here, though," he warned.

Pandora isn't like anywhere on Earth, nor should it be. Everything here could bite back. 

It's not only people you should be cautious about on this moon - the animals and plants are nasty. 

The warning seemed to sink in.

"You got some heart, kid, showing up in this neighbourhood."

"I figured it's just another hellhole."

He's not wrong. And Quaritch liked the attitude. 

The Colonel stood but kept his posture casual. Technically, Sully isn't in his department, so he wasn't required to be as strict with him. However, he's also a soldier, so going soft wouldn't work. For many on Pandora, a familiar structure such as the military can mean the difference between sanity and otherwise. 

Many people have collapsed in on themselves here. He didn't want that to happen to this kid. 

"I was First Recon myself," he said, intriguing the kid. "A few years ahead of you. Well, maybe more than a few."

It's bizarre to think he's almost thirty years older than this kid. 

He started walking out of the gym, knowing Sully would follow him. His folk nodded greetings, acknowledging his presence. It wasn't necessary, but he wouldn't tell them off for doing something positive. It's easy to fall into a negativity trap here. 

The smell of hot metal used to be nausea-inducing. Now, though, it's barely an issue. 

"Three tours Nigeria, not a scratch. I come out here?" Quaritch huffed, refusing to remember those years, but it'll build a bridge of empathy. He turned back and pointed to his face. "Day one - Think I felt like a shave-tailed Louie?" 

Technically, it wasn't the first day. However, it certainly felt like a single sol. He struggled to remember all of it, but he'll never forget how disgusting it felt when he shoved his fist in that beast's breathing hole. It stank for weeks afterwards. 

The scars have become a symbol in Hell's Gate, weirdly enough. It's common to find a skull with three scratches on a vehicle.

Nose art, trench art, and even tattoos. The unofficial mark of SecOps. 

It went from a painful reminder to a symbol of motivation, determination and survival. It inspired the people who trusted him with their lives, and it was good enough for him. It was an easy fix, but Quaritch refused to remove his scars, even if they still hurt. 

All of them are integral pieces of the man he is today. They're medals of survival, failure and victory. It shows that no matter how hard he's beaten down, he'll get back up and keep going. 

That's the Hell's Gate motto: get back up and keep going. Simple, short, but effective. 

The Colonel hopped onto Pretzel, his designated AMP suit. He had no idea why he called it that; it felt right. 

He climbed up the machine's leg, ensuring everything was secure and wouldn't fall apart. If you took care of your equipment, it would treat you right. He's been driving this AMP for seven years, and it's still kicking. 

"Yeah. Oh, they could fix me if I rotated back." He wouldn't, though. He's never going back. "Yeah. And make me pretty again," he smirked, hanging off the vehicle to Sully, amused at his joke. "But you know what? I like it. It reminds me every day what's waiting out there."

It reminded him, too. The kid had no idea what was outside those gates. Even the bugs were rambunctious. Step on the wrong thing, and you'll lose something. 

Leaving Pandora in only a wheelchair is lucky. 

He motioned for Sully to get on a platform as he climbed into Pretzel, itching to get out and to work. The job he has to do today isn't one he's usually part of, but since one of the usual guys is sick, he could punch in. 

"The Avatar Program is a bad joke," Quaritch grumbled. "Bunch of limp dick science majors," he added, his frustration with Grace showing. "However, it does present an opportunity both timely and unique."

He called Clear, waiting for Ping to reciprocate. Once the signal was received, Quaritch could activate his AMP suit safely. The safety of these people was his priority. 

The hum of the suit as it turned on, the roar from the exhausts on the back, was exhilarating every time. 

Sully was interested in the suit, watching Quaritch strap himself in and secure his boots to the leg platforms. 

"A recon gyrene in an avatar body. That's a potent mix. Give me the goosebumps," he complimented, getting the gloves on. "Such a marine could give me the intel I need right on the ground- right in the hostile's camp."

He's pushed it as far as he could. 

Grace was given six years to make the Omaticaya move. After the incident at the schoolhouse, she needed fresh faces that the Omaticaya wouldn't kill on sight, which is where Dopey and Thomas come in. Well, Thomas should've come, but he died. Even so, there was a silver lining.

No matter what, that tree was coming down. The best Quaritch could do was control how it fell. Having direct information on the tree's internal structure would do wonders, especially if the people have moved. As much as he's annoyed by the Omaticaya's refusal to be more than bystanders, many of them are innocent in this. 

The RDA doesn't care about that, unfortunately. There are a lot of children that will die if Grace's new kids don't make the Omaticaya move. 

So far, the scientists have made things more complicated than before his arrival. However, the Omaticaya have never met a soldier avatar. That alone could interest them enough to listen to the warning. 

The Dragon Lady will decide if he and Dopey are allowed in or not, however. 

How can he explain the mission to this kid so he'd understand? So much history to go into, and more if that is complicated. It would take a week to elaborate on why everything's up a certain creek without a paddle. 

"Look, Sully - I need you to learn about these savages from the inside. I want you to gain their trust. I must know how to force their cooperation or hammer them hard if they won't." 

If he has to send in AMP suits to drive the people away from that tree, he'll do it. Minimal casualties are the goal because that tree is falling regardless. The RDA could afford to ignore it if the deposit was smaller, but it's too convenient. 

A shit ton of money within a short distance was too tantalising to them. 

Three months should be plenty of time. 

"Am I still with Augustine?" Sully asked, tilting his head slightly. 

"On paper," Quaritch answered. "Yeah, you walk like one of her science pukes; you quack like one. But you'll report to me. Can you do that for me, son?" 

Grace is good at what she does, but she's hyper-fixated.

He knows that she's going to sabotage anything he tries to do. Over time, she turned him into the face of corporate, spitefully fighting him as her only way of getting back at the upper crusts. She can't do much with Parker since he doesn't give a damn, so he's all she has. 

She's a stubborn bitch, too. It's for her betterment that he keeps this from her. 

One of these days, that woman will get herself killed in this endeavour. She forgets that they work for the same uncaring vultures. 

If Quaritch gets the schematics of that tree without her causing a ballache, it should be fine. Her forest buddies survive, and she can help them find a new tree. Hell, maybe the Tipani can take them in for a little while?

"Hell yeah, sir," Sully nodded, looking eager, almost hungry for a mission. 

That's music to his ears. 

"Well, alright then," Quaritch smirked, happy to hear it. 

The Colonel activated the limb sync process, testing the reaction time with casual boxing. It worked seamlessly with minimal delay. 

He walked to the platform holding Sully, smiling at the kid. He was only a year older than Ellie used to be. 

While Quaritch couldn't do anything for his little sister, there was something he could do for this kid. 

"Son, I take care of my own," Quaritch stated, putting his hands where the metal hips would be. "You get me what I need; I'll see you get your legs back when you rotate home - Your real legs," he emphasised, pointing to the bright yellow chair. 

"That sounds real good, Sir."

Satisfied, Quaritch lowered the protective glass, heading to the exit. Hopefully, Sully will be able to prove Augustine wrong.

With Wainfleet and Chacon, the kid should do fine. 

Whatever monotonous crap they were doing had nothing on his job, however. Today was extra exciting. 

Zhang, Lopez and Warren were waiting for him in their AMPs, eager to get to business. On the ground with them were Zdinarsk and Walker, the pair playing rock, paper, scissors. Whatever for, he's not going to ask.  

They were happy to see him.

"You hear about yesterday? Prager almost ran over the new kid!" Warren laughed. 

He did hear that. 

Prager's lucky he's even allowed to drive an AMP after accidentally making Pandoran meth. He didn't know how he did it, and Parker almost had an aneurysm. 

They're idiots, but they're his. 

"Let's get moving," Quaritch ordered, clapping the robot hands at Walker and Zdinarsk. "Y'all can wet the pillows when we're finished." 

"That's a new one," Zhang said, trying to hide the smirk on his face. "I say we vote. I vote for Walker."

"My pussy isn't up for a vote!" Zdinarsk argued, and Walker was already laughing. "Bitch, I will fold you like a pretzel!"

"Yes, mama!" Lopez teased, high-fiving Warren.

It isn't safe or technically allowed, but the ladies rode on the AMPs. While Walker was fine to cling on Zhang's left leg, Zdinarsk was happily perched atop Warren's suit. 

He's warned them not to do it. Chastising them won't do much, so he only has to wait until they hurt themselves. It stopped Ja from doing wheelies. 

The quacks were irritable, he could tell. Two avatars, Johana Franková and Kamalla Sansanwal, stood out the most. While he wasn't pleased to work with them, he was happy seeing Reyah el-Samara and Holly Dawson with them. 

The tiny ginger was no taller than 5ft, easily mistaken for a child at first glance. She raised her hand briefly at Zdinarsk, her version of waving. 

"Why're there four AMPs?" Sansanwal huffed, sneering at them.

That's what he despises about the avatars. The drivers were total assholes to his folk, even though their job was to protect them. It was ungrateful, honestly. 

He's all fine for tree-hugging and protecting the greenery, but they put plants before people. They don't come to the funerals. 

Most of the quacks avoid the SecOps, treating them like rabid dogs. There's a handful of decent folks like Dawson and el-Samara, but it was frustrating.

Doctor Augustine's attitude towards soldiers was a plague that made his job excruciatingly difficult. 

"That's a dumbass question," Walker snarked, rolling her eyes at the avatars' glares. "How about we return to the hangar and leave you alone with the Hammerheads? Does that sound better for you?"

"Don't be an ass, Kammie; they're here to protect us," Dawson admonished, her green eyes wandering to Zdinarsk. "I don't want to be eaten by viper wolves, thank you."

"I'll keep you safe, babes," Zdinarsk winked, causing the tiny ginger to blush.

Everyone on this base was horny and out of their minds; everyone took turns being barrack bunnies. It kept morale up,  so he didn't do more than tell them to be cautious.

That was ironic since he became one of the least careful. In his defence, he got a vasectomy ages ago; Miles blindsided him. 

With everyone securely peeved, it was time to leave Hell's Gate. The quacks were concerned about a nearby herd showing signs of a potential virus, and they had to check if it could spread to the Pan-Pigs. They had fancy names for the animals, but the SecOps had nicknames too. 

Tapiru wasn't as appetising as Pan-Pig. 

The avatars were grumbling to each other, side-eyeing the soldiers meant to keep their asses alive. It irritated him. 

After three hours of trekking through the jungle, they finally arrived at the herd's location. The Hammerheads are huge; they could easily crush an AMP suit. 

Warren aimed his Yellowjacket-MK3 at a Titanothere that had paintball-like splatter on its side. According to the quacks, they needed to investigate that individual. They can't move the thing without an AMP suit, however. 

Even with four AMPs, it'll be a bitch to move the beast. 

"Aim for the neck," el-Samara said, looking through her tablet quickly. "Bit lower, Leroy, just before the spiracles!"

With a pop, the dart flew through the air, striking the animal near the air holes. 

The Hammerhead Titanothere roared, startled by the sudden pain. It caused the rest of the herd to panic and flee into the jungle. Fortunately, the drug didn't take long to put the animal under.

He felt the ground shake as the beast collapsed awkwardly. 

Since the Na'vi can plug into animals with those whips, can they do it to Hammerheads too? It'd be crazy to pass up such an opportunity. 

Franková and Sansanwal hurried to the beast, carrying their equipment. The other ladies stuck by the AMP suits; their bodies weren't as durable as the avatars. 

"I need you to push," Sansanwal ordered, pointing at Zhang and motioning to the animal's side. "We need it on its side." 

"I got a name," Zhang said, annoyed as he walked behind her, pressing the AMP suit's hands on the animal's side.

He pushed, the metal of the suit creaking from the pressure. 

Lopez joined him, combining firepower to keep it where the avatars wanted it. In the meantime, Warren held onto the Hammerhead's bulbous head, keeping it still. 

"Thanks, guys!" Dawson smiled, getting close to the animal's mouth. "Hey, Jade, can you help me, please?"

At least some of the quacks still have manners. 

Zdinarsk got a snicker from Walker as she joined Dawson, trying to lift the beak. When it proved too difficult for her, Quaritch stepped in. He and Warren held the head back, letting its lower jaw drop. 

Dawson took a swab of the animal's mouth, pulling out its frilled tongue. While she was doing that, el-Samara tracked the animal's vitals, ensuring that it wouldn't die while under. 

The two avatars were focused on the stomach. With an irritated glare in her eyes, Sansanwal pushed a long needle through the animal's underbelly, slowly taking a fluid sample. As she narrowed her yellow eyes at it, Franková placed some strange device over the oversized syringe. 

It was interesting; you rarely get to hold an animal the size of a Samson ship. 

Most people - wiser people - would avoid a Titanothere. 

"We've got three minutes," el-Samara stated, readying the reverse. When it wakes up, it'll be pissed off. "Let's get moving, people!"

"Insufficient samples," Sansanwal argued, her tail flicking angrily. "We need more."

"Kam, we don't have the facility for a necropsy for a cow this big," Franková argued, sounding reasonable for once. 

The other avatar hissed angrily, starting to remove their equipment. As Dawson helped, Walker whistled, snatching their attention. 

Quaritch and Warren let go of the beast's head, turning to where their comrade raised the alarm. A pissed-off black face stared back at them, blood dripping off its shoulder and neck. 

The black teeth were large and dull, the tail thick and robust, head frills long and colourful - it was an elder male thanator. Animals of that age weren't common; he's only seen one of that age in pictures. 

From the wounds, it looked like some idiot shot at it. 

It snarled, stepping forward, growling at them. It glared at the avatars, forcing them to hurry. 

"Dios mio, that's an ugly motherfucker," Lopez said, astounded by its size. 

"Lopez and I will herd the ducks to the pond," Zhang started, stepping away from the Hammerhead. "Let's get a move on!"

"It will kill the cow!" Sansanwal argued, refusing to follow Zhang. 

The beast moved, beginning to wake up. With her argument now moot, Zhang and Lopez could finally get the quacks moving. 

The thanator huffed at them, baring nasty black teeth at them. 

"Come at me, bitch!" Walker shouted, raising her gun. "I will turn your black ass into a cannoli!"

Firstly, that image was disgusting. Second, don't eat a thanator. 

Quaritch held up his metal hand, waiting for the animal to move. It sneered, snapping its jaws as something started moving behind him. 

The Hammerhead cow bellowed, scared and confused. Its call alerted the rest of the herd to come running to her defence, the rumbling of the ground knocking down a tree. 

With an angry hiss, the Thanator took off, knowing better than to fight a whole herd. 

"Oscar Mike," he ordered, walking away from the angry cow. 

"How in the hell did you kill one of those?" Warren asked, placing Zdinarsk on his shoulder. "I mean, god damn. I nearly turned my britches brown." 

"Luck."

"A lot more than luck, sir," Walker countered, clinging to his metal leg. 

"You'd die immediately," Zdinarsk giggled, earning an angry look from the other woman. 

It's like raising children. 

The crazy kid did it. He got in. 

Of course, Augustine was pissed off. She always is when it doesn't go her way. 

Things are going to be a whole lot simpler now. They can make the Omaticaya move, Parker and his bosses get their metal, and that's the end. If everything goes to plan, they'll be long gone before the dozers arrive. 

Miles whined, pushing one of his toys into Quaritch's leg. While Topaz was usually with him at this time, she was going on a date. Good for her. 

"And what is it that you're doing, little man?" Quaritch said, leaning back in his chair. He didn't like to use his office, but it helped keep Miles from running off somewhere he shouldn't. "You'll earn yourself a court-martial with behaviour like that." 

"Daddy!" Miles moaned, pressing the plush handcrafted cat into his leg.

It was a wonderful present from Parker for Miles' second birthday. Who knew the guy could sew?

His sweet boy is going to be three this year. He's grown so much since born; he used to be so small that Quaritch could hold him in one hand. 

"At your service," Quaritch smirked, lifting his son to sit on his lap. "What is it that you're wanting?"

"Play with me," Miles said, placing the plush against his chest. "You're kitty."

"Am I, now?"

"And I'm a big ghost!"

He feigned fear, acting overly dramatic for Miles' sake. He was only a toddler; he didn't understand everything yet. He will, though. 

Although he was always afraid that he'd somehow hurt the boy, Topaz had faith in him. Unlike Little Bug and Ellie, Quaritch had much more to provide. The only con was that Pandora was a nasty place to live. 

Quaritch held the plush cat, unsure what he should do with it. With a shrug, Quaritch tapped the teddy on Miles' nose. 

Miles made a tiny roar, trying to be scary. 

He was awful at playing. While he looks like someone shoved a broom up his rear, Topaz and Lyle were fantastic with Miles. 

"Whatever am I gonna do?"

He'll need a haircut again soon. His baby boy looked more like a lion than a child; his curls were wild. Thankfully, his son inherited very few things from Quaritch. 

There was a knock on his door. His son stared at the door, uncertain whether to be excited or afraid. 

Once Quaritch gave the ok to come in, he regretted it. 

"What're you playing at, Atilla?" Augustine sneered, her dark eyes burning through him.

The sudden loudness and aggression scared Miles, causing him to start crying. 

He held his son against his chest, patting his back as he glared at Grace. 

"Not around Miles," he said coldly, not in the mood for her nonsense. "What do you want, Doc?"

"Don't think I don't know you've talked to Sully."

"I can talk to whoever I like, Grace. He's a marine, and we take care of our own." 

Miles turned his head to look at Grace, his face puffy, red and snotty from crying. It made the head quack ease her aggression, trying to look less angry than usual. 

As much of a bitch she was, she wasn't heartless; she always had a soft spot for Miles. He might be the only human she doesn't actively insult every chance she gets. 

"Don't meddle, Khan. You always fuck up anything you touch."

She wasn't wrong there. 

He did ruin everything he touched. So far, Miles is exempt from that, but for how long?

Quaritch was never meant to be a father. He took steps to ensure that he wouldn't be one. The fear of ending up as Trevor or Rafael loomed constantly. 

Little Miles was determined like his mother, though. He wanted to come into the world, vasectomy and infertility be damned. 

"Getting bitchy with me won't change anything, Augustine. It's happening one way or another, Grace, whether you're willing to accept it or not." 

She's in denial; he's sure of it. 

"You know that it's not right, Adolf."

That's a bit far. He didn't believe in the stuff, but it's still a part of his heritage. She knows that, too. 

If he believed in Judaism, he'd be much angrier about that. 

"I know. I also know that the higher-ups don't care. You forget that you're the employee of a corporation, and money is always first. Projecting your frustration onto me won't help them; help Sully make them move, and don't treat him as an obstacle but an ally." 

"It almost sounds like you care."

"Always have and always will, even about your radioactive ass. Haven't got a lot of people around here willing to put a Pan-Pig in my office out of spite." 

"It's called a tapiru, and you know that."

"Pan-Pig is better."

"I'm not arguing over this."

"That's a first." Miles had finally calmed down, but he was still nervous. "Go have a cigarette and make nice with Sully. You're running out of friends." 

"Oh, and you're my friend, are you?"

"More like your archnemesis, but when it comes to you, semantics. Go bother the only guy here with real power - I'm sure Parker's missed your hissing." 

With a glare, Augustine finally left. 

Quaritch put the plush cat back in Miles' hands, watching him hug it. 

"Scary lady."

"Sorry about that, champ. Grace gets in a mood sometimes."

"Like Mama?"

"Nah. Mama's passionate; she's got a fire inside."

"Mama's burn!?"

"It's a saying, kiddo. Come on, let's get you something to eat."

"Pizza!"

"Maybe."

"No! Pizza!"

"No arguing with a Socorro. I'll get you a little one."

"Yay!"

There's only one reason he could think why Augustine would move to Site 26. She wants to break the kid away from him and the rest of SecOps; it wasn't fair on Sully. 

Since the kid isn't in his department and Chacon is with them, his options are limited. 

"Someone is grumpy," squeaked a feminine voice from behind him. When he looked over his shoulder, Paz grinned. "What's up, Zeke?"

He hates that nickname. 

"Augustine's being a pain as usual. I can't help her if she's always stepping on my feet." 

"Lyle and Sean said the quacks are acting weird. Even Reyah and Holly are behaving oddly."

"Holly Dawson being weird? Say it ain't so," he sighed sarcastically, rubbing his eyes. "One of these days, those supposedly "smart" idiots will get us killed. And for what? A big tree."

Paz bit her lower lip in thought, tapping her fingers together. He waited for her to devise a response, avoiding eye contact for her sake. It made her uncomfortable.

In her words, eyes are gross and icky things. He can't disagree; there's something weird about eyeballs. 

It blew his mind when Scarlett explained that your body doesn't even recognise your eyes as part of you. If they get injured, your immune system will attack them.

Why? What's the evolutionary advantage to that?

It's almost as stupid as ass hair. He still remembers Nathaniel screaming about it. The way you could tell them apart was Nathan had a lot of hair, especially on his face and legs. 

The "bearded one" Rafael had called him. 

"They can move to another tree. It's not fair, but it's not like we can change that. You bought six years; it's up to them to use the last three months wisely."

"I could've bought a decade, and she still wouldn't be happy."

"She hasn't been happy since the schoolhouse. Gracie is probably scared that'll happen all over again."

Topaz was right. Since the schoolhouse shooting some years ago, she's been cold and reserved. 

Perhaps that was the final straw that made her abandon humanity completely. She had nothing but disdain for humans, not that he could entirely blame her. However, treating the na'vi as pinnacles of peace was naive and dangerous. 

She'll get herself or others killed by refusing to acknowledge that flaws are part of life.

Nothing is exempt from faults or flaws, not humans or the na'vi. They're more alike than she's able to admit.

She may still be grieving over Sylwanin. She'd sooner die than take off the girl's necklace. 

He could cut her some slack there. It reminded him of Ellie's death, and he could empathise with that loss. 

"I'll have Sully send me reports. Chacon can deliver them to me. It'll be a compromise." 

"Even Parker's getting stressed over this. He almost stole one of Walker's cigarettes." 

Quaritch knew about the weed greenhouse his people set up, and so long as they weren't high during missions, he wasn't concerned. It helped them relax and find comfort in this hellscape of a moon. 

If it were any other place, he'd be far stricter. He's seen the consequences of going that route, however. It increases depression and occasionally suicide; if something kept his people sane, he had to let it slide, within reason. 

He knew that Parker had a drug problem ages ago, like many people nowadays. He was still struggling with it. 

Parker trying to take one of those tainted cigarettes wasn't a good sign. 

"I don't want Miles growing up in the same world we were stuck with."

"Me neither, Zeke. We're doing the best we can with the cards dealt."

"Sometimes our best isn't enough."

"Maybe, but we can burn that bridge when we come to it. For now, we focus on Miles and each other. That's all we got at HG." 

She's a good friend to have. 

When it came to the mother of his precious boy, he couldn't have found a better woman. 

The messages are proving to be fruitful. With extra scans of that tree, they can strike in surgically. 

Oddly, Sully left out negotiations. There's little time left, so hopefully, he'll send an update on where the Omaticaya is going. 

They're meant to go at the end of August. That means Sully has a month or so to get things done. 

"He's taking his sweet time," Parker grumbled, scrolling through another RDA-Mail message. "They're getting annoyed, Quaritch."

"Tell me something new."

"Let me guess. Grace is making things difficult?"

"Gonna say that water is wet next?" Quaritch grumbled, irritated. "If Sully fails, then we gotta go the hard way. Wish it didn't have to be that way."

"They can move to another tree."

"Captain Obvious today."

"For once, your snark isn't cheering me up. They're all up my ass about getting that Unobtanium; the monkeys are lucky that we didn't bomb them straight away."

"Because that solves everything."

Quaritch wanted to hit a wall as his body froze up. He was annoyed that Parker knew about it and even more so when he wouldn't say anything. 

"Now you sound like one of those treehuggers."

"It's not the tree I give a shit about. My sympathy is small but enough. I can't help but think about Miles; there are kids his age and younger." 

He could imagine it vividly. 

Sitting with his son outside, minding his business and making Miles smile. It was one of the most precious things in Quaritch's life. 

He could see ships coming with an army of dozers under them, coming to destroy their home and kill them for crap that was in the dirt. His son deserved so much better than that.

It was encouraged by the company to refer to the na'vi as animals, savages and the like - it dehumanised them. It created a barrier to minimise empathy.

Everyone here has lost their home, family and heritage. And because some assholes in a cosy office declared it, they'll do the same here. 

Those who refuse to learn history are doomed to repeat it. 

"Alright, I can see that," Parker sighed, visibly down. He had bags under his eyes, more than usual. "What do you want to do about it?"

"I'd go in person, but then Augustine would throw a fit. She refuses to listen."

"Now, who's captain obvious?"

"Funny."

"Thanks. I'm here all week," Parker huffed, spinning the rock of Unobtanium. "I'll tell them to come in. You talk to Sully while I've got Grace distracted." 

"Sounds like a good deal. We need to know how negotiations are going."

"If they're going at all. That troupe is especially stubborn, almost as bad as you."

"Few are as bad as me."

"Too right. Get a move-on; I'll call Augustine. Use your time as best as possible." 

He will. 

It's been a while since he's seen Sully, but he can tell something's wrong. The kid looks depressed and thin; how has he lost so much weight?

The mission was tough on Sully; he could see that better now. With the schematics of the tree mostly done, he only has to talk to the people. 

"Haven't gotten lost in the woods, have you?" Quaritch joked, trying to cheer Jake up. He grabbed a chair, placing it close to Sully. "Your last report was more than two weeks ago." 

Sully blinked blankly, unaware of how much time had passed. He couldn't be in that link bed every day, could he? While Quaritch isn't a scientist, he's been here long enough to know that it messes with you mentally. 

An old driver named Belinda Simmons spent so much time in the link bed that she fell into psychosis. It damaged her brain, as well as the avatar. She had a meltdown over not being allowed to drive it anymore, even though it was for her safety. 

Simmons was one of the good quacks like el-Samara and Dawson. 

The kid didn't deserve a fate like that. 

"I'm starting to doubt your resolve!" 

That wasn't a good joke. He should've asked Lyle for help. 

The kid looks worn out and ragged, drained and burned out. 

"The way I see it, it's time to terminate the mission," Quaritch said, softening his tone. 

"No, I can do this," Jake said, life returning to his pale face. 

"You already have," Quaritch sighed, feeling bad for the kid. "You give me good, usable intel. This Tree of Souls Place." 

He should've never let Augustine leave with the kid. 

Sully cringed at the mention, looking guilty and distressed. It's understandable since he's spent nearly three months with those people. He's been around the Omaticaya more than his people who understand him. 

Quaritch needs to nip it in the bud for Sully's mental sanity. Any longer, and it could be another Simmons situation. 

"Yeah, I got them by the balls with that when this turns into a shit fight, and it will. Yeah. Now it's time to come in," Quaritch said, lightly jostling Jake's shoulder. "By the way, you're gonna get your legs back." The light in Sully's eyes was a welcome change. "Yeah. I got your corporate approval. It's a done deal." 

It was a bitch to afford. The price of basic crap on Earth has tripled since he was there, and it's only getting worse. 

However, it gave the kid a chance. 

He needed to get out of here before it consumed him. He didn't want this kid to fall apart like so many others. 

"I'm going to have you on a shuttle tonight. I'm a man of my word."

Sully's eyes had relief and conflict, almost like he was scared to say something. He looked exhausted; the poor kid needed hibernation. 

"I gotta finish this," the kid said, a spark in his voice. "There's one more thing. Ceremony. It's, uh, the final step to becoming a man. If I do it, I'm one of them. And they'll trust me." 

It sounded risky. 

The fact that they didn't trust him yet was concerning, too. It meant that negotiations weren't going well. 

If not for his years of practised stoicism, Quaritch would've shown how unimpressed he was. 

As Sully looked wrecked, he might've lost time. It's taken a heavy toll. 

Grace knows better. It felt wrong. 

He wanted to ask Sully if he got her back with the clan. She was desperate to be accepted by them, even at the cost of herself. Since the company can't afford to replace someone with her experience, she's trapped here. 

Quaritch has mentioned the possibility that she's been enduring Avatar Psychosis in the past, but nobody listens to the Jarhead. 

"And I can negotiate the terms of their relocation."

That sounded like the humans would have a hand in relocating them. If it avoided a massacre, so be it. There's been enough spilt blood. 

He's determined to finish this mission. 

Fine. The kid can have a few more days, but that's it. 

Quaritch got up from the chair, feeling like Sully wouldn't listen to him. 

"Well, then, you'd better get it done, Corporal," Quaritch stated, walking away from the kid. 

He'll be requesting Sully to change to his department. The kid was ragged and needed a break. 

Something was going to break, and he didn't want it to be an innocent kid who didn't understand what he signed up for. 

"Come to the schoolhouse, Atilla. We need to talk."

The message played on repeat, unrelenting and cold. As much as Quaritch would sooner die than be cordial with her, he had to tell her to give Sully a break before he broke. 

Isn't it enough that he lost his physical stability for someone else?

"It's getting late, Zeke," Paz warned, guiding the Samson close to a wide enough area to land. "Are you sure Lyle or Sean couldn't have come with you? You know that Ed would've dropped anything if it meant helping." 

Wainfleet, Fike and Mansk are good people. They didn't need to be involved in their bullshit. 

It's between them, the same battle since they first met. 

"You don't need to worry about me, Topaz. I know what I'm doing."

"Whenever you say that, the fauna tries to test that."

"They should know better."

"Don't get cocky now, Zeke." 

"Ain't cockiness. It's a promise. I'm a man of my word." 

"Excruciatingly." 

Once Paz finally landed, she patted Quaritch's shoulder, silently demanding he returns soon. 

He will. It'll take the literal devil to keep him from his son and people. 

Quaritch hopped out of the Samson, mask secure around his face. He hated them, but they were necessary. 

It only takes twenty minutes to reach the schoolhouse. He knew the trek well. He even recalled the spot where they left Roland's body to the wildlife. 

Although Pandora is horrifically dangerous, there's beauty at night. Everything is glowing with life and energy, reacting to any detected movement. It was the exact opposite of what he grew up with. 

And it's the world that Miles gets to call home. He'll never wake up and fear there won't be food or that there's no water. He will always have light, something to brighten even the darkest nights. His only regret is that Ellie, Nate and Scarlett never saw it. 

Nathaniel would make a hut in a tree, living off the land and acting like a lunatic Tarzan. He'd probably have a pet viper wolf and ride a Titanothere out of spite. His brother was a gremlin when he was in his element. 

Eleanor would love the animals. She would stare for hours out there, loving every shimmer and twinkle. 

Scarlett? Too many possibilities. He knew that his Little Bug would tame the land and make it her bitch, exactly how he taught her. 

They were great people that he wished his son got the chance to meet. 

A rustle in the undergrowth caught his attention. Stepping out of the foliage onto the path was an elder thanator, its wounds marking it as the same one from months ago. It noticed Quaritch and stared silently. 

Several floating white things fell from the sky, dancing between them. The Thanator huffed air from his neck holes and went on his way, ignoring the Colonel. 

Augustine was obsessed with them. The folk at Hell's Gate called them Sprites. 

He went blank for seconds, quickly finding that the little glowing tree sperms were landing on him. They must've mistaken him for a tree. 

The Colonel kept walking, letting the freaky space sky octopi float away. 

He found the schoolhouse looking derelict and depressing as the day he had to close it down. It was the turning point for Augustine, the event that shattered her faith in humankind. 

While he couldn't blame her for feeling misanthropic, her pain was festering. He couldn't judge since he didn't look into his trauma either. 

The Marine stepped into the schoolhouse, quickly counting the sleeping Stingbats. By the chalkboard was Augustine, but not her human body. 

This is Grace, and the human is the puppet. 

"Must be grave if you want to talk here," Quaritch said, observing her tail movements. "This have anything to do with Sully's "becoming one of the people" thing?"

Her ears flattened, anger sparking in her yellow eyes. 

"You're loving this, aren't you?" she growled, tail hitting the chalkboard. "Watching a random Jarhead be accepted into the Omaticaya." 

Projection. 

"So, that's what this is about. You're jealous." 

Augustine kicked something over, possibly a clump of dead moss. The woman was growling, ears back and tail whipping like a live wire. 

He found the answer. 

The anger changed to pain, water welling up in her large eyes. 

"I'm not jealous of him, Stalin. I'm happy. And I'm angry."

"That he was accepted, but you weren't?"

Did she have nobody else to vent to? Was he all she had?

That's sad, even for him. 

"You say that like it's easy. How can you possibly understand?"

"What, that you're desperate for a glimmer of hope in this shitty universe? Hate to break it to you, Buttercup, but nothing is perfect. You're a scientist; is it logical or objectively sound to chase after a clan of aliens in the hope that they aren't as flawed as us?"

"Don't talk to me like I'm a child!"

"Then stop acting like one. You're a nasty cunt, but you're a smart one. You know that the avatar project is dangling by a thread - what will you do when the plug is pulled?" 

She's running from herself, which he could sympathise with. 

They come from an awful and atrocious world. It's easy to feel hopeless. 

Relying on an alien race for spiritual and mental salvation isn't the answer. 

"And since I'm here, I can ask what the damn hell you've been doing to Sully," he continued, observing her reaction to the accusation. "He looks like shit, Augustine."

"I'm doing my best!"

"That's not your best. Your best was this school. Sully's just a vehicle to get back in with the clan, even if you aren't aware of it. He's burnt out. The only reason I haven't terminated the mission is that he was sure that he could convince them to move."

It felt like that isn't happening, unfortunately. 

Quaritch watched her decipher the statement, almost able to see the gears turning. 

"You're wrong."

"Am I?" he questioned, leaning against one of the giant tables. "You're running out of time, Grace. The clock is ticking, and once it strikes midnight, nobody can stop what will happen."

She was angry and upset. 

The avatar got close to him, trying to use her height to intimidate him. That wasn't going to work. He's not afraid of this woman, but he fears for her. 

"Stop talking."

"Because what I'm saying rings true?" he pressed, angering her further.

It spiked frustration in him, too. She was more difficult than usual, and it pissed him off. 

She kicked over a table, taking out her anger and helplessness on the degraded furniture. The woman was trying to suppress a scream but was failing, desperate to let everything out. 

Some of it was sad, frankly. 

"Why did you ask me to come here, Grace?" Quaritch questioned, tilting his head a little. 

"I want you to go away, Himmler!" she shouted, though he didn't flinch, even when she bared her fangs at him. 

He'd prefer it if she didn't use nazis when insulting him. He'd also like her to stop making his life difficult, but that'll never happen. She'll always be a parasitic pain in his ass. 

The woman threw something near him, but all Quaritch had to do was take a step to the side. It looked like a tantrum, but it might be the only way she could express her anger. 

As sympathetic as it is, he's still getting irritated. 

"Ever since you arrived on this moon, it's been hell for me. It was your people that killed my daughter. You slaughtered an entire village. You micromanage every little thing we try and do! Did you ever consider that we don't want humans and na'vi to fight? Because your answer to everything is a gun!"

It's like she's breaking down, the years of failure and stress finally causing her walls to crumble. 

"It's my job to keep you safe, which you're quite adept at trying to foil," Quaritch snapped back, unintimidated by her. "If basic safety concerns are considered micromanaging, you must've started smoking something out here. The whole reason Sully and Dopey are here is to help you avoid a fight, but you've done fuck all with it." 

Not only has she done little, but she's also actively been pushing Sully to exhaustion. 

"I have tried for years to make this work," she snarled, glaring at him. 

"And I haven't?" he growled, anger boiling his blood. "I bend backwards for you, but it's never enough. You know what you can do, Doc? You can go fuck yourself!"

"Fuck me yourself, you coward!"

"Don't make me."

"Or what, Ranger Rick? You haven't got the balls."

Hell no. 

She glared, daring him to get close to her, tail lashing like a whip. If she expected him to back down, she was mistaken. He'll never surrender to her angry bullshit. 

There wasn't much thought behind it, grabbing a 10ft tall half-alien's tail. He's not going anywhere, and he double dared her to do something about it.

Augustine wouldn't back down, either. It's her worst and best quality. 

The titan dropped back, her tail wrapping around his arm and pulling him down. She hissed, sounding like Ellie's wicked cat; Albert was a spawn of Satan, and Augustine seemed to be his kin. 

Anger overcame rational thinking. For years, he's dealt with her crap and never got acknowledgement for it. He hated it. He hated her. 

By the levels of hell, he hated that woman. 

There's no logic or rationality, only pent-up hatred, acting without thinking. 

"Don't pussy out, fucking abortion bucket leftovers," she snarled, using one of her giant feet to push his pants down. It bruised his thigh, maybe even the femur, from the force. "Your mom must be real proud, bin Laden's bastard."

Oh, the utter gall of this woman. If he didn't hate her before, he did now. 

"You keep running that mouth, and I'll be the monster you want me to be, sanctimonious bitch." 

"Prove it, craven cunt." 

He will.

It was a mistake. They shouldn't have done that. 

He didn't sleep well, and the morning only got worse. While in the middle of breakfast with his son, Parker asked for him, visibly pissed off. 

As soon as he entered the control room, he knew something was wrong because all the Mansks were in one room. 

Even though they're stuck in the same facility, Liam, Sebastian, and Edmund won't talk to each other. For all of them to be close meant that shit hit the fan. 

The dozer that Sebastian was operating to clear a way to the Omaticaya's tree got attacked by a na'vi. Outraged, Parker wanted to find out who they belonged to and get payback. The higher-ups must've told him to do so, outraged at damaged equipment. 

Then they cleared the image. It was Jake. 

Fucking fuming was an understatement. 

What the hell was going on? Was Augustine's breakdown the other night a distraction? It started to feel like that. 

Since Dopey and Sully got to Hell's Gate, everything has turned upside down. It was adding more stress than usual. 

It didn't feel good arresting them. He couldn't cover this up and bury it; there's video proof of Sully's actions. 

It also felt like a betrayal. 

When Sully tried acting stupid, Quaritch wasn't having any of it. 

"You let me down, son," Quaritch said, scowling at the video recording. 

Lyle and Mansk lingered in the background, able to tell that Quaritch was utterly peeved. He could've enjoyed the morning with his son, but no, he had to deal with this. 

There was a girl Na'vi in the background, probably the cause of Sully's behaviour. He could've moved out of the way, but he attacked the dozer. Thank hell, it's remote-controlled.

He could've killed somebody. 

Parker was seething, almost shaking. 

If up to Quaritch, he'd backhand them all for being idiots. 

"So, what, you find yourself some local tail and completely forget what team you're playing?" Quaritch asked, pushing Jake's buttons. 

Was this why Sully hadn't negotiated? He was messing around with a girl, ignoring the mission. Did he even tell them what he was there for? Did the Omaticaya know what was coming?

It didn't seem like it. 

"Parker, there is time to salvage the situation," Augustine tried. It was pathetic. He wasn't listening to this again. "Parker-"

"Shut your pie hole!" Quaritch ordered, sick of it.

"Or what, Ranger Rick? You'll shoot me?"

"I can do that," he warned. 

She scoffed, shaking her head at him. 

"You need to muzzle your dog," she snarked, looking past him at Parker. 

Oh, he's going to break this woman's nose. 

While Quaritch can withstand her insults, Parker isn't so tolerant. He shook his head, having enough as well.

Lyle and Mansk were on edge; he could see it. They were more annoyed at the insult than he was. 

He saw that Zhang and Fike were in the doorway, ready to back him up if needed. 

"Yeah, we can take this down a couple of notches, please?" Parker said, getting between the two. 

How long has Parker endured their constant fighting?

"You say you want the people to live?" Sully asked dryly, looking at Quaritch as though he was a thing. That stung. "You start by listening to her," he added, nodding to Augustine. 

He has. He's listened to that woman for years. 

Sully's been here for three months; he thinks he knows her better than everyone. The kid doesn't know shit. 

"Those trees were sacred to the Omaticaya in a way you can't imagine." 

The RDA doesn't care about that. They never have and never will.

It doesn't matter if he or Parker understands it. The bottom line is all that matters to the ones with power. 

She knows better than to try that, but she won't accept the situation. 

They don't want this. His soldiers and her quacks don't want this. They don't have a choice, though. 

"You know what? if you throw a stick in the air around here, it'll land on some sacred fern, for Christ's sake!" Parker said, getting up and walking around to face them all. 

"I'm not talking about some kind of Pagan voodoo here. I'm talking about something real, something measurable in the biology of the forest." 

Now she's shitting on people's religions? Fantastic. 

Lyle was tense, likely keeping himself from defending his kin; Prager is a Pagan. What'd the Pagans do to get crapped on?

"Which is what, exactly?" Parker questioned, arms crossed. 

"What we "think" we know is that there is some electrochemical communication between the roots of the trees, like the synapses between neurons. And each tree has a ten-to-the-fourth connection to the trees around it. And there are ten-to-the-twelfth trees on Pandora."

"Which is a lot, I'm guessing?" 

Parker blinked, confused. 

Quaritch isn't following it either. It sounds like she's saying the trees are a brain or something. 

"It's more connections than the human brain. Get it? It's a network. A global network and the Na'vi can access it."

So, the na'vi can plug into the trees? Any tree? Do they commune with the grass, too?

Has she acted so weird because she's shoved her head-tail into trees? 

"They can upload and download data. Memories. At sites like the one you destroyed," she continued, getting closer to Parker. 

How she described it, she made it sound like the Na'vi were cyborgs. 

"What the hell have you people been smoking out there?" Parker chuckled, brushing her off. "They're just goddamn trees!"

He couldn't help but lightly snort at Parker. It certainly sounded like they've been smoking something powerful out there. 

"You need to wake up, Parker," Augustine stated, looking annoyed.

The chuckling ended abruptly. 

"No. You need to wake up." 

He was right. 

Grace has been walking in the dream world for too long. It's affected Sully, too. As angry as he was with the kid, the poor bastard was isolated. All he had was spineless Dopey and Augustine. 

He looked through the several reports sent by Sully, trying to find something that would hint at this behaviour. He found one that was delayed; Sully must've attempted to delete it before it was sent. 

"The wealth of this world isn't in the ground. It's all around us. The Na'vi know that, and they're fighting to defend it. If you want to share this world with them, you must understand them." 

As usual, Grace is talking about the Na'vi like a monolith. She means the Omaticaya and them alone. 

Sully's video had awful news for her. 

"I'd say that we understand them fine, thanks to Jake here," Quaritch said, raising the audio for them before replaying. The look on Sully's face wasn't enough. "Hey, Doc, come take a look." 

"They're not going to give up their home," the recording said. "They're not going to make a deal. For what? Lite beer? And blue jeans?" Sully snorted at his bad joke. "There's nothing that we have they'd want. Everything they sent me out here to do is a waste of time. They'll never leave Hometree." 

It looked as though Jake hadn't slept for a long time in that video. He didn't seem to remember sending it or thought it was deleted. Unfortunately for him, however, it wasn't. 

Those three months was a waste. Nothing they did would've made a difference. Waiting for Sully and Dopey wouldn't have made a difference. 

They only stalled the inevitable. 

"So, since a deal can't be made, things get real simple. Thanks, Jake," Quaritch said somewhat sarcastically. "I'm getting all emotional. I might give you a big wet kiss." 

He's disappointed in them.

"Parker, we need to talk like rational people," Grace attempted, but Parker wasn't interested in another lecture.

"Uh, yeah, I cherish that, but unfortunately, you're out of here on the next shuttle tomorrow. All of you."

When was that decided? 

That's not a move Parker can make. That's not in his power. Who decided that they were going? He wasn't arguing; quite the opposite. Grace should've gone ages ago, and Sully was at risk of ending up like Simmons. Fuck knew what Dopey did; he seemed closer to furniture than an asset. 

"I'm shutting down the avatar program," he continued, surprising Quaritch. "Effective now."

He warned Grace about this last night. How weird. 

She scowled at him before recognising that he was in the dark about all of this. 

"These gentlemen will escort you to collect your belongings," Parker added.

When Grace protested, Lyle stepped up, raising his hands gently. Joining him was Zhang, backing him up in case Augustine tried to get physical. While Quaritch doubted that, it was possible. 

"Sorry, Doc. Party's over," Lyle said, more sympathetic than Quaritch was.

He had a much more positive relationship than Quaritch, but that wasn't saying much. 

Jake's face was blank with regret, conflict and anger. 

He'll feel better after getting his legs back. Then he can forget all about the blue girl he shacked up with. 

"Talk to me, Lyle," Quaritch said, eyes glued to the large screen.

 Carnage everywhere. Dead people - good people. 

"It looks like they hit with banshees first," Lyle said through the live feed, pointing around. "See the angle's steep?"

Tyler Bolter's face was frozen in terror and agony, bent over a fallen log with arrows sticking out of him. He saw the body of Olivia Novak off to the side. 

He saw more bodies in the background - some were burnt beyond recognition. All that would identify them would be their dog tags. 

The thing that angered him the most was how few soldiers were dead. Most of the bodies had miner uniforms. Non-combatants. 

Their only crime was being sent out there to do their job. A job that supported their families and themselves, which didn't even pay that great. 

Lyle stopped by an AMP suit that was still burning.

"They set the AMP suit on fire. The driver's toast."

They were burned alive. 

Anger wasn't a good enough word. 

"The rest of the squad?" Quaritch questioned, foolishly hoping at least someone made it. 

The broken look in Lyle's eyes was agonising. He couldn't face them, struggling over their close friends. 

"Six bodies. That's all of them." 

He didn't mean the SecOps specifically, but he won't scold Wainfleet in that state. 

Parker had little more to say than Jesus Christ. If Quaritch cared to believe, he might've said something similar. 

Shit's gone south. 

Parker walked to his office, motioning for Quaritch to follow him. 

"We can't let this slide, sir," Warren said, shaking with fury. 

No, they can't. 

Quaritch followed Parker into his office, watching the younger man sit in his chair and fiddle with that rock. He did that when stressed. 

He looked pale and physically ill from the stress. 

The upper assholes weren't going to accept the totalling of their equipment. The date has moved up. 

"I'll do it with minimal casualties to the indigenous," Quaritch reaffirmed, trying to alleviate his stress. "I'll drive them out with gas first. It'll be humane. More or less."

How humane is it to drive people from their homes? It isn't. 

Gas first was the best he could do. Hopefully, they leave. 

"Ok, let's pull the trigger," Parker sighed, nodding.

He left the office, giving Parker the space needed to cool off. 

Waiting outside was Lyle and Brown, little Miles in Lyle's arms. Seeing his boy brushed away much of his frustrations.

"Daddy!" Miles smiled as Lyle passed him to Quaritch. He sat the toddler on his hip, pleased to see him. "We had choco milk!"

"Save any for me?"

"No! Mine!"

"Aw, shucks, guess I'll have to wait until next time," he sighed, thinking about the toddlers in that tree. "Get everyone ready. We're hitting the tree." 

"Now?" Brown questioned, surprised. 

"Before we set off, I need to talk to Augustine. Have Fike and Zhang bring her to me in the quack house."

"Quack!" Miles mimicked, unaware of what they were talking about. 

Lyle was upset over it; he could tell. He spent time with the kids who were likely living in that tree. It must be terrible for him. 

"Gas first," Lyle said, slightly detached. It wasn't like him, and Quaritch hated it. 

"Gas first," Quaritch reiterated. "Miles, you're going to stay with Parker. He might even let you play with the pretty rock."

"Parry!"

"That's right."

This isn't the world he wants his son to grow up in. 

That's a fucking massive tree. 

The Omaticaya were at the front of it, not running anywhere. He almost admired the spirit. 

"That is one big damn tree," Quaritch said, hearing Prager grunt in agreement. It's outrageously huge. 

You could build a city on that thing. 

"It's monstrous," Prager said, astonished by the thing. "How're we meant to knock that down?"

"Hitting precise points," Quaritch answered, glancing at the camera. 

Quaritch widened the image, finding a familiar avatar. 

Jake and Augustine were tied up and had a knife to their throats. 

Grace must have gotten an hour or so from Parker, but it didn't help. 

"Well, well. Diplomacy has failed," he sighed, leaving the transfer to the left cockpit with Mansk. "All right, people, let's get this done! I want every gas round you got right in the front door."

Make them leave before it falls. Why aren't they running?

Flee, you fucking idiots.

"Roger. CS.40's going hot," Mansk said, readying the gas.

"Fire."

"Firing."

Cannisters spewing grey smoke bounced into the tree's base, spreading the gas. At worst, it'll cause a rash and coughing. The point is that it irritates them akin to tear gas. Make them leave to save them. 

A fog grew from the tree, spreading like wildfire. He could already see horses and some na'vi running, fleeing from the smoke. 

It wasn't enough, however.

"Bingo. Might good shooting, ace," he complimented. 

He stepped back, pausing for a moment as Makarov said something stupid.

"Sir, they've opened fire," she said, confusing him.

He went to Prager's side, looking at the barrage of arrows. 

"You've got to be kidding me!" Quaritch said, astounded. All the arrows did was scratch the windows. It wasn't doing anything. "These dumb bastards aren't getting the message."

Fortunately, more have fled from the tree. A part of him died to see how many kids there were. 

If the gas wasn't enough, so be it. 

"Alright, let's turn up the heat," Quaritch stated, looking to Mansk's side. "Switch to incendiaries!"

Mansk set off the missiles, causing a monstrous fire to rage. Finally, it made the people run away. 

It took fire to get the message that they had to leave. It's the most primitive but effective method of communication. 

"And that's how you scatter the roaches."

"What are roaches?" Prager questioned, looking back at the Colonel.

"Something that runs when there's hot shit nearby. I think." 

"I think they're a type of rat," Makarov added from behind them. 

He can ask someone what they are later. It was a saying that Rafael used to use a lot. 

The fleet shifted away from the entrance now that they moved. 

It meant that they could get this horrible job finished. It's been weighing on them for six years, and finally, it's over. 

A part of him felt a smidge of justification after all those people were killed. It wasn't something he was proud of. However, that was something to vent to Paz about later. Maybe he can have a drink with Lyle over it. 

Lyle always listens, even when it's bullshit. 

When in the correct position, he hailed all of the gunships. He knew that Paz was almost next to him. 

"All Call Signs, switch missiles," he ordered, itching to end this. He didn't look forward to arresting Augustine after this. "Give me HE's at the base of the west columns." 

After receiving the go-ahead from the armada, he gave the order to fire.

Mansk and Prager hit with the Dragon's firepower. It's a tough ship built for war. The weapon capability on it was lethal. 

They didn't want lethality, however. 

Round after round, missiles flew before him, striking the tree where Sully told them to. Knowing that they were destroying someone's home was painful, but it was inevitable. If he weren't here to give the orders, someone else would. 

He knew there were people like James Ardmore who would go missiles first. 

Watching the explosions was saddening, especially with the shockwaves knocking over the folk fleeing. They should've waited a minute or so for them. 

There was an eerie silence. The smoke taunted them, beckoning them to get closer. 

Quaritch leaned over Prager, seeing the columns starting to splinter and collapse. They crumbled before their eyes. 

Jesus, it was terrifying to watch from above, let alone on the ground. 

"Good work, people. First round's on me tonight," he said, though it wasn't one of celebration. He patted Prager's shoulder, "Let's boogie."

"Dragon coming left, heading home," Prager said, directing the ship away from the fallen tree. 

He hoped the RDA was fucking happy. 

Chapter Text

If he had the choice, he'd never leave the sky. If Cupcake could, she wouldn't, either. 

He's always enjoyed flying, but joining her enhanced that a hundredfold. 

It meant that the RDA couldn't track them, too. 

He never considered this world had sentient life beyond the Na'vi. The Tulkun communicating with him and Lyle as though it were English baffled the Psi folk. It didn't make sense to them, even the guy that's spent a long time studying the species. He even discovered why they were hunted in the first place - the brain slime nicknamed amrita. 

Supposedly, it stopped human ageing. He didn't believe that, however. There was always more to things when it came to those crazy, greedy fuckers. 

Why get four random people that have never been to Pandora as Recombinants? What was the underlining purpose? 

As much as he needed to keep them in the dark, he was flying blind, too. Although he didn't know much, he knew the RDA would never change.

Since they began in Silicon Valley in 2048, profit was always the bottom line. Creating a new home for humanity would provide them with near-infinite worker bees for their hideous hive. 

He won't let them wreck this moon as corporate greed did to Earth. So many suffered unnecessarily. 

It can't happen again. 

The village of the Kallan looked beautiful in the day, sprawling huts on the island raised on stilts to avoid water. Some were further from the beach with ladders leading into the shallows. Several Ilu swam freely; they remained by choice. 

Admittedly, he gave him ideas. The Recoms were too big for the lab; they didn't fit comfortably anywhere. Therefore, they'll have to build something for themselves. 

With enough hard work, they can create huts like these. Those new homes will hopefully be more permanent. 

Cupcake dove, only spreading her wings to slow their descent. She landed on the beach first, croaking loudly to announce their presence. The sand felt good under his feet, warm but not too hot. 

His son was already staring at everything, fascinated by the new place. Unlike the previous villages, he can investigate without fear or restrictions. 

Quaritch trusted that the Olo'eyktan and Tsahik had already explained to the people his business here. 

"Fuck me; it's like one of those comics," Kane huffed, somewhat impressed by the place. "So the natives look like Little Miss Tuffet here?"

Reyah stuck her tongue out at Kane, her wider tail not waving like theirs. It isn't as prehensile or expressive, but Quaritch knew that the limb is mostly muscle. 

"You haven't seen any Na'vi other than us?" Lopez questioned, astonished. "They're nothing like us, Francotiradora. Let the boss, el-Samara and the kid do the talking."

"Whatever, little man."

"Coño."

Since Reyah can fully speak the na'vi language, she can help him improve. Pronunciation is his worst problem. 

Arondóttir's smile amused him. She was enamoured by the bustling life that was starting to investigate them. It was the first time she, Kane, O'Brien, and Reed interacted with the native Na'vi. 

He couldn't help but smile a little at Delta as she jumped from Whiskey, ecstatic to be back with the sea people. She was excited and practically vibrating, eager to go and speak with them. 

Learning their sign language will help him and his team communicate with her. 

"You have returned," the Olo'eyktan said, approaching the team. "There are many of you."

"These are Lopez, Prager, Mansk, Zdinarsk, el-Samara, Ja, Arondóttir, Kane, O'Brien, Reed, Delta and Spider; he's my son," Quaritch said, lightly patting Spider's back as Lyle joined his side.

Spider and Delta greeted the Olo'eyktan fluidly, impressing the man. 

His son spoke to the man, and Quaritch understood enough to know he was explaining that four of the team need extra caution. They're suspected spies sent by the sky people Olo'eyktan that seek them all harm. 

Kaiyō paid close attention, glancing at the suspects. 

"You are willing to learn?" he inquired of the others, his deep eyes analysing them. 

While Quaritch's folk were eager, the others were nervous. 

"We don't know anything about Pandora or your people," O'Brien tried, hiding behind Arondóttir. 

"I'm not a pussy. Hit me with whatever you've got," Kane snorted confidently, her ears flicking up. She elbowed O'Brien, making him stand alone. 

"Poo-See?" Kaiyō repeated, perplexed.

"Coward," Quaritch clarified. 

The Tsahik emerged, inspecting the group with her experienced eyes. Impressed wasn't in their blue depths. She turned her gaze to Quaritch and his son, narrowing upon seeing him. 

Quaritch growled, tail lashing threateningly at her expression towards his child and Delta. He made his protection over Spider known - touch his son, and you'll lose more than a finger. 

"Our children will teach you," the Tsahik stated, observing the team. "That one looks like us." 

Reyah introduced herself, speaking fluently.

With the understanding that at least three could speak the language, the Olo'eyktan had decided. 

"Paroo shall show you to ride the Ilu, Naia will teach you to speak, and Samudra will instruct you how to breathe. You will listen to them. My eldest and I will be watching. We won't tolerate unprovoked fights," the Olo'eyktan announced, looking intently at the humans. 

He and Lyle can keep them from getting too rowdy. 

The leaders introduced their children, though Aukai was missing. The eldest, Saagar, was disgusted by their presence. He sneered, wishing them to dissolve into the sand before his eyes. 

His brothers and sister weren't as hostile, thankfully. They started planning who to work with and split them into rotating groups. 

While Quaritch expected to be a part of this, the Tsahik had other ideas. She opened her palm to him, then motioned him to follow her.

Only him, strangely. 

"Babysitting duty," Lyle smirked, ready to watch the idiots. "Don't get lost in the spirit woods."

"You'd burn it down to find me."

"You know it, sir." 

The perplexed soldier followed after Karagatan, ogled by the growing crowd of villagers. They talked about them among each other, and Quaritch's limited na'vi picked up enough to know they were judging him.

His thin tail, thick arms and four fingers. Large muscles like his weren't natural. They got steroids while in those tanks to be beefy. Doing it naturally would be a bitch, even as a hybrid. 

Another hushed inquiry was the jewellery around his neck, a gift that fits the word to the syllable.

Karagatan led him to a hut raised from the sands. It wasn't fancy looking, but the crowd didn't approach it. He didn't know what to think of that. 

The Tsahik waited, flicking her ears impatiently.

What's meant to be up there? 

He climbed up the ladder, tail adding balance. Shortly, he reached the raised platform and the entrance to the hut; there was no door, only carefully woven fabric. 

The Tsahik joined him, crouching as she went through the fabric. She held it with one arm, letting him inside. 

A lone na'vi elder sat in what must be a shaman's house. There are shelves of items, hanging bottles and art plastered on the walks. Animal hide covered the floor, and a fire danced in the middle. The smoke had a green tinge and a strange smell that he couldn't place. 

A Dorado Verde sat on a perch, staring at him. 

There's something strange and eerie about it. Particularly the woman shrouded in animal hides, coral decor and other stuff. 

Karagatan approached the elder, kneeling and taking her wrinkly hand. The Tsahik kissed and placed her hand on her forehead, whispering something gently. It must be a gesture of respect. 

The Tsahik sat at the fire opposing the elder. She held her hand out to the spot she wanted him. 

Weird. 

He's here. He might as well. Are all Tsahiks like this? 

The Colonel sat, his tail lightly tapping the floor. He didn't know what she wanted to discuss or why he needed to be in there. 

The elder began to speak, but even with his limited understanding, he had no idea what she was saying. 

Aukai hurried into the hut, joining the elder's side. He sat quietly, glancing at Quaritch a couple of times. He must be training or something like that. 

"The Daughter has great plans for you," the Tsahik said, calm and collected. 

"I heard a story about her and your god's other fragments. It's where The Demon thing comes from. What the Kxeìnge worship. If that's the case, why'd they call me Demon?"

"For the Kxeìnge to call you a Demon is a compliment. It is bad."

"I figured as much," Quaritch agreed, ears flinching. "What's it mean, then?"

"They may attempt to make you one of them."

"No chance there."

"Good. The Demon corrupts. It is a plague that hollows out all in contact with it. Sky people fall faster than Na'vi." 

The elder raised her hand, silencing the Tsahik. 

Aukai began to hum and chant a strange tune, patting the floor rhythmically. 

Very freaky.

The elder took a blade from her cloak and swiped Quaritch's shoulder, startling him. Without blinking, she held the bloodied knife over the fire, watching the drops fall. He wanted to yell at her, but something weirder happened. 

The fire sputtered and burst into a swirl of magenta and red, flickering like ethereal lungs. 

"Tiretu," the elder said, her voice whispy, raspy, like wind flowing through rusted chimes. 

That's a new word. 

"Did she have to cut me?"

"Blood knows all. It passes through the mind, the heart and the soul," Karagatan explained, holding her hand over the flames. She dropped a powder, causing it to turn a strange violet colour. "See through Ateyo's Eye. What do you see?"

Ateyo must be their guy for fire. 

The elder and Tsahik sang along with Aukai, who must be their tsakarem. When harmonised, their spots pulsed, matching the drum-like sound. It was happening to him, too. 

Their religious practices had a biological aspect to them. 

He didn't know what looking in pretty flames was supposed to do.

After a bit, there was something strange in the fire. It made a shape inside, but fire can't do that. It twisted and writhed, a beating wing and snapping jaws.

Black teeth flashed from jungle bushes, giant red crests burst from the ocean, and an orange wing fell from the clouds. They crossed and coiled together, forming faces. He couldn't see them clearly, but their names were etched onto his tongue. 

Quaritch let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, and the image disappeared from the flames. They returned to orange as though nothing had happened. 

"Who did you see?" Karagatan asked soothingly, almost mother-like. 

"Ngaknay, Tsäìrang, Zietsahui - I've heard of the middle one, but the last is new," Quaritch answered, confused. Where did that word come from?

"Tulkun, Toruk, Palulukan," the elder stated, which fit the animal parts he saw. He assumed the Toruk was the orange beast. "Loyal to the sea, born of the sky, returned from death." 

He would've picked an Ikran if it meant sky, but ok then. 

"Cool. What does that mean?" 

"You are on the path that she decided for you long ago," the elder chuckled, confusing him more. 

What does that even mean?

"Mother feels The Mother and Daughter deeper than any. She speaks the truth," Karagatan said, curious. He still didn't get it. "Eywa has always had a plan for you, even before your rebirth."

When he was human, they meant. But that didn't make sense. 

"Atokirina," the Tsahik's mother grinned, motioning upwards. Above them were coral and seashell carvings of those funky Sprite things. "They are her messengers, spirits, seeds of her sacred trees. You have not seen them?" she mused, the question sounding sarcastic. 

"Landed on me once when they thought I was a tree..."

"There are no coincidences, Itan, only signs to be Seen and Heard." 

He regretted coming in here. 

Chapter Text

Spider clung to Mansk, unsure of the clicking animals. Funnily enough, Ed was frozen stiff around them. 

Paroo had to rely on Spider and Reyah to communicate with the Recombinants. He wasn't happy that he had to teach them, and his older brother was scowling from afar. 

"You must not fight the water when you ride," Paroo said, making a sound in his throat to attract the animals. "Flow with them."

An Ilu swam close to him, clicking curiously. While Spider was unsure about the animal, Delta had no such fear. 

She swam onto the animal's back, making a noise with her throat. She held onto the Ilu's reins, gently stroking its neck. Her brown eyes almost glowed in the clear waters, even with the mask. Her confidence was infectious. 

Spider got close to an Ilu, trying to make that sound. It gurgled at him, squeaking, 

"Aww, this one likes you," Prager joked as an Ilu nudged against Ed. "You've made a friend."

"Get it away from me."

"Dude, you can't be serious," Ja snorted, ears flicking upwards. "You're not scared, are you?"

"No. Nope. Not doing this," Mansk announced, arms up and walking away. An Ilu nipped at his tail, causing him to squeal loudly. "Fuck this! I don't like water! Nope!"

Since when did Ed have a fear of deep-water animals?

"They're not dangerous, Mansk," Taliesin tried, but Ed wasn't listening. "Mansk, come on, they're like dolphins."

"That's not any better!" Ed shouted back, tail slapping the waves. "Dolphins were evil! I'm not getting near the space iteration. I'm going to wait on the beach. Fuck this noise. I'm a Texan - we don't fuck with water."

"What a bloody drama queen," Kane huffed, rolling her eyes. "Get over here, cheeky bugger!" she grinned, copying Delta as she got onto an Ilu.

Paroo didn't understand their bickering, which Spider could relate to. The Recombinants behaved like children more often than not. 

He wanted to show Delta he could do it too, but the Ilu was confused. They didn't understand him or his attempts at communicating. 

The Ilu shook him off, swimming to join one of its brethren. 

His only solace was that there wasn't any water in his eyes. The mask allowed Spider to keep his head under the water, watching Delta easily swim with her Ilu. It was disheartening. For ages, he was the experienced, knowledgeable one for the Recombinants to follow. 

It was his only use to them. Other than those skills, Spider had nothing to give. 

After so many years, it was natural for him to want to prove his worth. 

Spider was lifted from the water, a strong arm keeping him above the surface. The tattoo betrayed the arm's owner. 

"Can't do much down there," Lyle said, letting Spider support himself on the Recom's frame. "See any cool fish?"

"No," Spider answered coldly, focusing his gaze on Delta as she swam past Bruno and Reed. "I can't do it like her."

"Comparing yourself to someone else is a certain way to feel worse than you are," the second in command stated, his naked tail peeking out of the water. "You want to show you're cool, huh?"

"There isn't anybody else like me," Spider said, almost feeling Lyle's smirk. "I want to be cool, too."

"Then it's a good thing that I might be able to help with that," Lyle grinned, clicking for an Ilu to come close. 

The animal squeaked, watching as Lyle connected to them with his Kuru. He scratched the animal's head before placing Spider on the Ilu's back, guiding his hand onto their reins. 

Confused, Spider wanted to ask what Lyle was doing. 

"Tell her where to go," Lyle said, patting Spider's shoulder as he disconnected from the Ilu. "Go on. Tell her where to go." 

The Ilu leaned "her" head back, watching Spider, waiting. 

"Forward?" Spider said, confused. 

The Ilu squawked, taking off. 

She twisted and turned, looking to him for verbal directions. She was fast, causing Spider to grip her tightly. He tried to follow Paroo's instructions, going with the water instead of against it. 

Delta and her Ilu joined him, visibly entertained by his atrocious attempt at riding. 

He tried to look more confident riding the female Ilu but struggled. She was fast, agile and wanted to stretch her fins. For all of Spider's grip strength, he was unprepared for the power of the animal. 

Unlike him, Delta rode with grace, gliding through the water like an Ikran in the sky. She slowed her Ilu and got close to him, changing how Spider gripped his Ilu's reins. 

Delta spoke to the Ilu via sign language, easing the animal and slowing her for Spider's sake. 

"They're fast," Spider said, trying to seat himself on the Ilu's saddle. 

Delta shook her head, grabbing one of his legs to reposition. He couldn't help but feel his face go hot at the contact. 

She wasn't afraid or clumsy like him. 

Why couldn't Spider be more like her?

The pair turned as they heard fearful screaming. Hilariously, Lopez was clinging to an Ilu for dear life as they swam at top speed. 

Spider doesn't know much sign language, but he learned enough to understand that Delta called him an idiot. 

Lopez is a moron, that's for sure. 

The guys are like his uncles, and Z-Dog is his big auntie. 

Spider hasn't mustered the courage to talk to his blood aunt. He wants to, but Scarlett intimidates him. She knew Miles better than anybody, even Lyle, and Lyle knew nearly everything.

What Spider knew was powerful, though. The misery of Earth and Miles' evergrowing loss were impactful. What little the team talked about that world was cold and scary; their mother died a long time ago. 

Would the RDA kill Eywa as well? Would they turn Pandora into a scary, dead land with no green or life?

Did Delta know anything about Earth? 

The Ilu squirmed beneath them and swam away, frightened by something. 

Concerned, Spider poked his head above the water, looking around. He saw Saagar yelling something at Reyah and Röskva. Although Spider didn't know them well, they're part of the team now. 

Semper Fi. 

"Back off!" Spider shouted, earning Saagar's scowl. 

"Do not speak, demon spawn," Saagar hissed. When his brother tried to calm him down, Saagar shrugged Paroo off. 

"Don't talk to him," Lyle spat, tail lashing in the water. 

The team growled threateningly, but Saagar wasn't phased. He spat into the water, tail slapping the water. When Paroo tried again, Saagar smacked his hands away. 

He wanted a fight. 

"Tales are told of sky people's blood. I should spill it and avenge those fallen by their metal hands!"

Delta pulled Spider back, swimming closer to the team. She recognised that Saagar fully intended to fight someone. 

The biggest of them lifted Spider from the water, holding him against her broad chest. Although he barely knew Röskva, she was prepared to protect him. 

Mansk pulled up behind Saagar and socked him in the jaw, hissing at him. 

"Don't threaten the kid," Ed warned, his ears pinned back. 

A roar echoed above, and Firefly landed behind Mansk. Her wings almost glowed in the shallows, her golden eyes burning into Saagar. She snapped her jaws, flashing her black teeth with promise. 

Although Firefly wasn't friendly or social, she was loyal and determined. If needed, she would be there.

"Saagar!" yelled the Olo'eyktan, noticing the commotion. "You threaten our guests?"

"Their presence is an insult to The Daughter," Saagar hissed, rubbing his bruising jaw. Mansk snarled at him. "They burn the Ta'anui, and their people kill Tulkun!"

"You insult The Daughter with your behaviour," the Olo'eyktan spat back, waving his warm towards the village. "You will tend to your grandmother. Before then, you will apologise to the son of your brother's rescuers," he ordered unwaveringly.

He heard Reyah translate for the others, and Reed had a curious glint in his eye. Hopefully, he wanted to know more about the Kallan's ways. 

Saagar sneered towards Spider, his hatred for humans evident in his blue eyes. 

"I will not apologise to that disgusting creature!" Saagar shouted, scaring Paroo. 

Firefly roared, her black teeth shining towards the aggressor. 

Spider's used to this. Many Na'vi hated him, though with the Omaticaya, it was more because of his parentage. 

Being human was not accepted by Pandora. The Na'vi will always hate humans. There's almost no point in fighting that fact. 

Delta clambered up Prager's shoulder and started using sign language quickly and angrily. She directed this anger towards Saagar, and whatever she said entertained the Olo'eyktan. 

He wished that he knew what she was saying because it infuriated Saagar. 

"Did this girl use me as a tree?" Noah questioned, astounded. 

"And school this arsehole, it appears," Reed said, his ears flinching at the Olo'eyktan's amused cackling. "At least his father is impressed."

"If the Colonel were with us, that guy wouldn't have a jaw," Jade added, crossing her decorated arms. "Good hook, Ed."

Mansk's ears perked, and purple bloomed on his cheeks. Almost teasingly, Firefly shoved her head against his back. 

Why did he blush at Jade's comment?

Ja high-fived Ed. Almost pathetically, Taliesin tried to high-five Bruno but was left hanging. 

"This one speaks wisdom. She sees more than you, my son," the Olo'eyktan grinned, his gaze drawn to Delta's tattoos. "You will apologise. This is not a request."

Saagar scowled at Spider. The teen felt Röskva's arm tighten around him, but not enough to hurt him. 

Delta hissed at him, coming to Spider's defence immediately. 

Deep inside, Spider felt warm at her determination and fury. She didn't hesitate to defend him. Although it wasn't surprising from the Recombinants, Spider wasn't used to another human fighting for him. 

Whatever that feeling was, it spread throughout his body and burned his cheeks and ears. He wanted to feel more of it, though. 

"I apologise to you, human."

"Good. Now, tend to your grandmother," the Olo'eyktan commanded. "Paroo, continue the lesson."

"Yes, Father," Paroo said, lowering his head to the leader. 

Firefly hissed, warning him to stay away. She only calmed when Ed stroked her neck. 

Finally, Röskva let Spider down, though he could still feel her glare at Saagar as he walked away. 

Delta swam to Spider, putting her hand on his shoulder. Her dark eyes were brimming with concern and care, making his heart beat weirdly fast. Her eyes seemed to glow, her relieved smile doing something magic to him. 

He didn't understand how she could do that to him, and as much as it scared him, he was enchanted by it. 

"We will continue," Paroo said, looking to Reyah to translate for him. "I must apologise for my brother's behaviour. Saagar has struggled with the sky people's invasion and the near loss of our youngest sibling." 

Although Spider could understand, the unfiltered anger in Lyle's eyes warned that the reason wasn't good enough. 

It was easy to forget that these guys were trained soldiers - they were warriors - and would kill for him. 

Jade was right. The Colonel would've beaten Saagar for threatening Spider. 

Maybe more. 

And he was ok with that. 

Chapter Text

Spider was in the forest, surrounded by trees, following after his friends. The jungle was a brilliant green, and the song of Riti echoed. 

The Psi marine biology lab lingered in the background, and the hallelujah mountains hovered far above. Part of Spider knew this to be impossible, but the rest didn't care. 

He and his friends are going on an adventure, exploring the forest together. 

"Come on, let's go!" Tuk yelled, almost skipping through the undergrowth. 

"Yeah, hurry up!" Robin agreed, running past Tuktirey. 

The fact that these two don't know of each other didn't dawn on Spider. Neither did Sterling and Li randomly on a couch watching a movie under a tree. That shouldn't be possible, either. 

Lo'ak scampered through the brush, coming across a giant suit lying on the forest floor. Part of Site 26 lay behind it, bent and broken from a battle before Lo'ak's birth. 

Robin and Tuktirey were gone, but Lo'ak and Kiri remained, looking over the suit. Of course, Spider joined them to investigate. 

A skeleton lay there, small compared to them. 

The jungle reclaimed it long ago, vines and grass curling inside like green spindly fingers. The three marks on one side of the skull sent shivers down Spider's spine, knowing it was his father's remains. The feeling of metal chilled his hand, and he looked, finding dog tags dangling from his fingers. 

He could see his mother and father's names in the light. He felt them rip from his hand and get tossed away into the jungle, far from his grasp. It took several seconds to realise that Spider threw them, but why?

"Are there any dead bodies?" Tuktirey's voice echoed through Spider as the remains of Fike lay nearby, an arrow sticking from his eye. 

Walker, Warren, Zhang and Brown's bodies were around him, decaying before his eyes. Soon they were skeletons, and Neytiri's arrows stood from them like flags. 

These people knew him. They were friends with his parents. They could've been his uncles and auntie as well. 

"What's the matter, Monkey Boy?" Kiri asked, but it was hollow, devoid of the warmth he loved about her. 

Lo'ak was watching him the same way a Nantang would towards a Yerik. He looked at Spider as though he was prey. 

He felt even smaller compared to them. He was a dwarf among giants. 

"Come on, bro," Lo'ak said, his voice hollow and monotone. His usual snark and attitude weren't there. 

Lo'ak's drive to earn Jake's love and affection wasn't in his eyes like normal. Neither was Kiri's self-consciousness regarding her being so different. 

They were mere imitations of his friends. 

"Kids!" came Jake's voice, arms out for Tuktirey, Lo'ak, Kiri and Neteyam. It confused Spider since Jake wasn't much of a hugger.

He was also different; he was robotic and cold, a false mimic of the man he knew. 

Well, the man that Spider thought he knew. 

As if connected to Spider's running emotions, Jake's face twisted, his eyes burning with spite. Was that always there, hidden behind a mask of honour, or was this Spider's mind conjuring this?

"It's getting late," Jake said, the monotone tainted with discomfort at Spider's presence. 

That's what Jake said whenever he wanted Spider to return to the scientists and McCoskers. It was a polite way of telling Spider to leave. It meant that he had overstayed his welcome. 

As if Spider was ever welcome. 

He looked to his friends, the feeling of desperation burning Spider's skin like acid. But Lo'ak and Kiri stared blankly at him, waiting for him to go. 

Neteyam mimicked Jake to a terrifying degree, even down to their tail movements. 

"You don't belong here," Tuktirey said, her words cutting into his chest. "You don't belong anywhere." 

"Why're you always in the way, bro?" Lo'ak asked, tilting his head. "We had to leave our home because of you."

No. No, they didn't leave because of him. 

"You knew too much. We wouldn't be safe," Kiri said, the emptiness hurting him more. She spoke as though it was a fact. "You hurt everybody you meet. Why did you hurt us, Monkey Boy?"

Spider needed to run. Anger and fear bubbled inside of him, pulsating violently inside of him. 

No matter what direction Spider ran, he kept arriving at that clearing where his father's suit lay. By the eighth time, however, Spider ran into Mrs Sully; she hated him the most. 

Her yellow eyes scorched over him, actual flames broiling in her pupils. Her spots glowed red with anger, her body leaning over him like jaws about to clamp down on unsuspecting prey. He was terrified of her and her wrath. 

"Demon," she seethed, her hate-filled voice mixing with someone else. Half of her face melted away, burning the jungle floor with it. It was replaced with half of Scarlett's. "You don't belong here, demon spawn!"

The image of Scarlett leaning over Spider, looking angry and hateful like Neytiri, scared him. 

Spider got up, tears burning his eyes, and ran facefirst into the High Camp Lab's door, locked from the inside. He fell down the stairs, landing on the cold stone. 

He shook, looking around for any hope of escape. One of the avatars, Johana Franková, was standing over him with disgust across her face. 

"You're just like him," she growled, the vitriol causing water to swell in his eyes. "A monster that destroys everything he touches. A burden. A disease." 

When Spider struggled to his feet, he was shoved back to the floor.

The teen could barely see through his blurred vision, but he could make out Mo'at's grand garments.

One of the only Na'vi that welcomed his presence and allowed him to enter her Marui. 

"Did you think that you could ever be one of us?" she spat, her words shredding his heart. 

Spider wanted to belong somewhere. He needed to be accepted. Nobody wanted him, though. He was a burden, a disease, an itch that frustrated everyone nearby. 

Why did he ruin everything he touched?

The cold stone under his started to crack and crumble, falling apart under his touch. It fell away, leaving Spider to fall endlessly. 

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't scream. Who would listen to it anyway?

He crashed into water that licked and tickled his skin. He had no time to check his surroundings before he heard a call for his name. The boy peered into a pair of bright, warm, inviting yellow eyes and cropped ears. 

"What're you doing out here all alone?" Miles said, his voice not hollow but filled with life. 

Spider sniffled, feeling like a lost child. He must look so pathetic and useless. 

"Milly!" Scarlett called, holding little Finn and the twins at her side. She had Ian behind her, blank and cold like the others. 

Miles looked away from Spider, staring at his sister. 

"Come on, Uncle Milly!" Jesse called, her sister grinning with excitement. 

"Ki!" Finn added. 

"Come to your real family," Robin continued. 

Spider felt cold, his relief washing away with the tide. 

He watched as Miles stood, his presence slowly becoming chilly and aloof. He saw that life and warmth drain from Miles as the Recom stared at the Garvin-Taylors. 

"Miles?" Spider whimpered, struggling to breathe. 

Miles turned to him, cold and empty like everyone else. 

"I don't need you anymore," the Colonel said, leaving Spider to join his real family.

"Dad!" Spider blurted, desperate for something to cling to. 

 He wanted his dad to tell him it was ok. 

Miles paused, his tail stiff and ears unmoving. 

"You're not my son."

Nobody needed Spider. No one wanted him. 

The island was empty save for grass that began to rot under him. He was alone, lost and unwanted. He was a plague that sucked out the life and joy of others. 

Why did he ruin everything?

Spider's eyes burst open, finding darkness and the grey walls of the Psi Lab Quarters. He'd kicked off the blanket meant to keep him warm. 

He couldn't breathe, terror constricting his chest. 

The teen bolted to the bathroom, turning on the light to see himself. He hated what he saw, a useless pink fleshy creature that didn't belong here or anywhere. 

He tried so hard, but it was never enough. It never would be. He was a demon spawn, a burden kept as a trophy to spite someone long dead. Did everybody know that he was a discarded prize? Did the scientists even care?

No. Why would they?

Why would Kiri or Lo'ak miss him when he nearly got them killed by the Recoms? He was betraying them by being so close to them. 

They must hate him. They should. 

He hated him too. 

Spider gripped his messy, curly, wild hair. It was long like most Na'vi hair, but he didn't deserve to look like them; he could never be like them. 

The teenager angrily ripped a clump of hair out, tears running down his face as he yelled at his reflection. Why was he always such a burden? He can't even be of use anymore; Delta could teach them everything he couldn't. 

Why should he look nice when he wasn't? He should look as ugly as he is. 

He was so engrossed in his anger and fear that he didn't realise someone had entered his quarters. 

"Spider?"

The teenager spun, seeing Miles through his blurry vision. He stepped back, those words his mind conjured echoing in his ears. Like a useless idiot, Spider slid on the hair he pulled. He would've fallen against the sink, but Miles reached out to catch him. 

The Recombinant pulled Spider against him, kneeling on the floor to hold him easier. 

Spider whimpered like a sissy, shaking against the giant's gentle grasp. 

"It's ok," Miles said, his voice full of life, concern and care. It vibrated through Spider, trying to sweep away his fears and distress. "I'm right here. It's ok."

It wasn't ok. Because of Spider, Miles and the others were in danger. 

What was Ardmore going to do to them for defying her?

Despite trying, Spider couldn't say anything, only whimpering and crying like a baby. 

Holding Spider against his chest, Miles slowly backed out of the bathroom and returned the teen to the bed. However, Spider couldn't let go of the Recom, clinging to him for dear life. He was scared of being left behind again. 

Everyone abandoned him. 

Instead of prying Spider off like a diseased Syaksyuk, the Recom lay in the bed with Spider still holding onto him. 

"Why am I different?" Spider whimpered, trying not to sob like a spoilt brat. 

He felt Miles shift, hugging him softly, bringing a hand to stroke his hair. 

"Because you're tired and upset," Miles said, his tone calm and soothing. It didn't feel right, though. 

"I don't belong-"

"Hold on," Miles stated, wiping away the tears from Spider's face.

He was at eye level with Miles' neck, seeing the dog tags and his necklace. It was just like the one that he threw away. 

When the Recom was done, Spider tried to repeat himself. 

"I don't belong anywhere."

"Nevermind that," Miles said, brushing some hair from Spider's face. "You belong right here with me."

"Look at me!" the teen yelled, quickly regretting it. He didn't mean to hurt Miles as well. 

"I am," he sighed, no hint of anger or frustration in his words. "Do you know what I see?" Spider looked at Miles' face, waiting for his answer. The Recom poked his nose, confusing him. "I see a little nose, some ears, and two bright, big eyes," he said, one of his fangs poking over his lip as he smiled. 

"What do you mean?" Spider questioned, confused as Miles gently took his hand, pressing their palms together. 

"You asked why you're different. I'm showing how we aren't," the Colonel said, no hint of judgement in his soft eyes. "Close your eyes."

"I don't understand."

"You will."

He was still scared, but Spider listened to the Recom. He closed his eyes, thankful he could still feel and smell Miles. 

His scent was becoming comforting to Spider. 

"Forget what you see," he heard, "What do you feel?" Miles asked as Spider felt something against his chest.

He could feel his heart beating. 

Spider opened his eyes to see that Miles was holding Spider's hand against his chest. 

Miles' hand was so big compared to Spider's. 

"My heart?" the boy answered, confused. The Recom was smiling. He shuffled again, bringing Spider's head against his broad chest. His heartbeat thumped loudly. "And yours?"

"We're the same," Miles said, using his tail to bring the blanket over Spider. "We might not look it, but we're all the same. We all breathe, sleep, eat and piss the same. Sometimes days are just shitty; I get that. You'll always belong with me, son. Always."

Although the terror lingered, Spider was comforted. He snuggled against Miles, listening to his heartbeat. 

"Will you stay?"

"I'll stay as long as you need me," Miles promised, watching over Spider. "I'll be right here if there's another nightmare. I'll stay as long as it takes."

Spider was afraid that those words were hollow. He feared abandonment. For now, though, he could sleep knowing Miles wasn't going anywhere. 

He already lost his dad once. He doesn't want to lose him again. 

Chapter Text

Something was wrong. 

All day, something was off. Little Spider's had an impromptu haircut, and Miles was off. They were unusually distant and quiet; it concerned Lyle immensely. 

A while ago, Lyle would've left his CO alone. If his boss had a rough day, Lyle wouldn't push it since Miles was a private guy. 

It's different now.

Everything is different. 

They're paving a new path. It's a chance to do better and make a home, something they can call theirs. They've created a clan and will share their history for generations. 

Of course, this'll come to be after Ardmore and the RDA have been taken care of. They'll be destroyed in time; they have to play smart. 

To do that, they have to be a tight unit. If something is up with Miles, then Lyle must know. 

Without alcohol or a hangover, that won't be easy. However, nothing worth doing ever is. 

Scoresby's words echoed in Lyle's ears. 

"You're concerned about something?" Miles asked, ears not as expressive as usual.

His usually bright yellow eyes seemed duller, not as fiery as they should be. 

"You've been off all day, sir," Lyle stated, his tail flicking upwards into a curl. He was getting better at reading Na'vi body language; Miles seemed annoyed. "What's happened?"

"Nothing's happened." 

"Bullshit," Lyle called out, his ears twitching backwards.

Miles seemed to analyse the word, thinking it over. The larger Recombinant looked like he hadn't slept.

His comrade shifted, starting to pace. Stress grew on his gate, or more accurately, it revealed itself more clearly. He's been pushing everything aside; Lyle's seen it in too many fellow Marines. 

They're trained to push everything aside and disassociate from conflict. An empathetic soldier is a weak link; it's the unofficial saying of the modern Marines. 

But their empathy is what made them so strong at Hell's Gate. It was their understanding that gave them several good years. 

It's what is carving out their new place in this confusing world. 

Finally, Miles paused, his tail going stiff. 

"Spider had a nightmare. A bad one." 

Given what Spider's endured, he understood that to be an understatement. 

"I presume that's what caused Spider's haircut?"

It was shaved at the sides, so he looked like a proper little Viking. The scamp didn't want to elaborate on why he chose the change, but Lyle knew what could've happened. 

"Yeah," Miles admitted, sounding distressed. "I woke up - got that dad senses, I guess - I knew Spider was distressed somehow. I went into his room, and he was pulling his hair out, sobbing," he said, visibly upset by it. "It hurt to see him so... he was in agony, and it was a wound I couldn't heal. I couldn't protect him from that." 

His kids had nightmares. Little Matt got off lightly compared to Xiang and Mei. 

Xiang had burst into her parents' room, screaming and heaving so heavily that she vomited on his and Lei's bed. She was inconsolable, terrified and shaking. It was agonising to hold his little girl, unable to shield her from an unintelligible terror. 

How do you scare away a monster behind your children's eyes?

That's something Lyle can understand. He's been there.

Then again, he hasn't, has he?

Matthew, Xiang and Mei didn't have Spider's trauma. They weren't abandoned, mistreated, abused and neglected like Spider. His kids had a loving family that was always there for them, even in the end; Spider didn't have that. 

Spider's only support was his buddies, the girl and Sully's boy. Now, he had loads of people, which is very difficult for the boy as he's discovering how badly he was treated. 

He could only imagine how upsetting that was for Miles. He was kept from being there for his boy because of Sully and his crazy bitch wife. 

"Whatever you did, sir, the kid looked good today." 

Miles' ears were flat against his head, the look of dismissal in his eyes. The tiredness had weakened his defences, so he was not as stoic with his feelings. 

For the first time since waking up, Miles looked his age.

A twenty-year-old. 

Physically, hormonally and probably mentally, they're kids again. Their memories are the same as their old lives, but these bodies are fresh and young. 

Na'vi are meant to live a long time, aren't they? 

Humans can reach one hundred if cared for properly, but Na'vi-

The realisation dawned on Lyle. They're probably going to outlive Finn, let alone Spider. 

Miles will have to watch his little sister die of old age before him. 

Weirdly, Lyle is glad that all his sisters died the way that they did. Even in Rachel's case, she didn't suffer, and Lyle didn't have to see them suffering. His comrade didn't have that. 

"Don't," Miles ordered, somehow registering Lyle's realisation. "Don't say a fucking word."

No parent should outlive their children; Lyle knew this all too well. He didn't want that for Miles, but it was unavoidable. He'd have to watch his son die of old age; Spider had eighty or so years at best. His father, on the other hand, had twice that long. 

How're you meant to process something like that?

As with many things, Miles wasn't. He's in plain denial about their horrifying situation. 

If Lyle had something like this weighing on him, he would've gone to his sisters or mom. The fact that Miles hadn't gone to Scarlett was concerning. 

Slowly, Lyle was uncovering how alone Miles was. What support system did he have outside of Deja? Even then, it's sparse emotional-wise. 

"Do you have anyone else you can talk about it to?" Lyle asked, watching his CO trying to bury everything. 

"I don't need to talk to anybody."

"Because that's gone swimmingly for you so far." 

"Fuck you."

If only.

"You're hurting, Miles. I get it, y'know? Being a dad's terrifying. Considering the situation you're in, you're doing good. The kid's brightened up a lot since we-"

"Kidnapped him," Miles interrupted, which wasn't like him to do. "It's just fucking Stockholm or whatever it's called." 

That didn't sound right, either. 

"We didn't meet well, we can all agree to that, but it's been great. He's come out of his shell, even making friends with kids his age. You've given him a parental figure that would sooner die than abandon him - you have died for him. That's more than some fathers." 

Like his. 

Lyle's father wasn't around; he was some jackass from Ohio named Dylan. He didn't know much about his father other than him trying to steal money from his mom; he was mixed with gangs and mafias. Sometimes, some douchebags would break Mom's door down, demanding she pays his debts. 

Even then, Dylan was better than Miles' father figures. It didn't sound like he had anyone to guide him besides Rafael. 

That's not a man to follow. 

His words haven't soothed the boiling emotions inside Miles. He's trying - dear god; he's trying - to bury it all. 

"What else have they done to my baby?" Miles questioned, his eyes looking red. "Af-after keeping him like some trophy, ignoring him, treating him like shit, leaving him with damn Nash McCosker - he hates himself, Lyle. How do I heal nearly fifteen years of pure, malicious intent?" 

It's a difficult situation for all of them, especially Spider. He felt terribly for that kid. 

"Being his source of safety," Lyle said, stepping towards Miles. "Being there, reassuring him and telling him repeatedly that you'll never leave, no matter how hard it gets. That you love him and you'll take care of him." 

It felt less like he was talking about Spider, weirdly. 

He wanted to make Miles feel safe, but there were over fifty years of constant trauma and loneliness. He believed that Scarlett had been dead for over twelve years, and he suddenly got her back, only to realise he'll watch her die. 

Even Jesse, Robin and Finn will die before him. 

"So, all I can do is tell him it's ok?"

"It's ok to be upset and cry, even ugly cry. Sometimes that's all you can do. It's ok that you're upset, feeling like you're suffocating - like you're drowning on land. It hurts like hell, but it's ok to feel that way. And it's our job to hold you tight and - even if briefly - make all the monsters disappear." 

Crying hurts. It burns in your nose and swells in the corners of your eyes like fluid fingers clawing to freedom.

Your throat feels constricted, an invisible noose tightening. Every breath is sharp and burns your lungs. There's no obstruction, but it feels like claws etching the Necronomicon in your oesophagus. 

Emotional pain is one of the worst.

Unlike a bleeding wound, you can't stitch or take decent pills for emotional pain. 

Is he even talking about Spider anymore?

"Miles, bottling it all up only makes it hurt more."

He's not much better. He's kept his former life a secret to protect himself, but it hasn't helped. 

Lyle's talked to Miles about it and was vague with Spider. He can do more. 

They can both heal. 

Miles hissed, tail waving with fear instead of aggression. The other Recom looked conflicted, eyes darting like he was somewhere else. His ears reacted as though somebody else was talking.

A phantom voice brought to audible life via trauma. 

"It's not ok. It's weak - it's pathetic, and it's useless! You can't be useful if you're crying like some stupid toddler!"

That didn't sound like Miles. No, it sounded like something he's been told; something drilled into him at a young age. 

"Rafael tell you that?"

"I can't keep everyone safe if I'm some useless mess. I can't - I can't lead this team if I'm some pathetic fucking infant that can't keep it under control." 

Miles started pacing again, tail waving wildly as he tried to control everything. It didn't look to be working, however. 

"We've got each other's backs, sir. You've pulled ass, keeping us safe, even before these blue suits. Who's keeping you safe?" Lyle questioned, which made Miles pause. He was clenching his jaw, struggling to keep everything in. 

He struggled to form an answer, eyes going from left to right as he tried to figure it out. 

There isn't an answer, but Lyle wants to change that. 

"That doesn't matter - I need to keep all of you safe. I can't fail you again."

"You didn't fail us, sir. We followed you into hell, and we'd do it again. You're still a person, though, sir. It's alright to be upset." 

He'll always follow this man, no matter what. Even if Miles went off the deep end, Lyle would be there to drag his ass out of the depths. 

They arrived on this moon together and will die beside one another. 

Like how they should have the first time. 

The first drop fell, and a deluge followed. It was painful watching him trying to keep it in and look indomitable. 

Miles pressed his back against the wall, covering his face. He slid down, tail curling around himself, cropped ears flat against his head. 

Without hesitating, Lyle shuffled beside his comrade, wrapping an arm around his best friend. 

He never wanted to see Miles so upset and overwhelmed by everything.

If they fuck this up, Ardmore will turn them into rugs. 

"I'm scared shitless," Lyle admitted, feeling water swell in his eyes too. "If my sisters could see me now, they'd call me a dumb bastard. They would've loved you."

"You had sisters?" his comrade mumbled.

"Yeah, five. Three died in battle, one died in that crash, and the other... was killed by our mom in a murder-suicide. She couldn't cope after my wife and kids died. Lei would've loved this planet; I sometimes imagine her playing poker with Topper and Trudy." 

He felt pain radiate from his chest, causing that burning sensation in his nose. He hates feeling like this.

Grief never leaves. It's a cancer that can only be managed, never eradicated. 

"I had a sister. Another one," Miles said through his tearful chokes. "I-I failed her too. I fell asleep when I should've been watching her, and she died."

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

"Fuck no - I loved her; I was with her since I was five. Our stupid bastard world got her hooked on Pyre, and my brother and I tried to detox her. I failed her. That's why I freak out when I'm asleep." 

"Because... you didn't wake up?"

"She was hallucinating or something and stabbed me," Miles said, though he sounded like that was somehow his fault. "God, the look in her eyes when she realised what happened, she cut her throat open - I could see her fucking neck bone vertebrae thingy. I tried to stop the bleeding, but it wouldn't. And my brother never forgave me for that."

Fucking christ. 

"That's not your fault, Miles."

So, that's why he panics when disturbed. His mind thinks that he's being attacked again. 

"No, I was meant to watch her. We took turns. Nate had to go out, but I didn't wake up, and she died because of that." 

That didn't sound like Miles' fault, and barely Nate's. How could any of them suspect that Ellie would hallucinate and then panic?

"That's not your fault. Nobody's fault," Lyle said softly, feeling Miles break down more, leaning against Lyle. "You did your best. You tried, and that's more than some do. Were you with Nate and Scarlett since they were young too?"

Miles wiped his face. It was painful seeing him so upset like this. He needed it, though. 

He needed to talk to someone.

"I raised Scarlett. I did everything for her. When Nathan left, I still had her, but then she left too - all I had was that fucking cunt, Rafael. He just had this way of stripping you of everything - even when he died, I never escaped that bastard." 

"Sounds like you've broken the cycle already," Lyle said, feeling Miles shift to look at him. "Robin, Jesse and Finn - those happy kids are your doing, Miles. You raised a badass woman. You managed to do a damn good job with her and Ellie; Spider's in fine hands." 

"You think too highly of me..."

"You think too low of yourself," Lyle countered, rubbing Miles' shoulder. "We're going to need to work on this self-esteem issue."

"I don't have issues." Miles paused, looking at himself. "Maybe some issues."

"I'll be right here to keep you going. I'll kick you up the tail every time Rafael's bullshit tries to take root. And if I'm acting the same, bottling crap, you can kick my ass. How's that?"

Miles hummed in agreement, still trying to hide his face but leaning fully into Lyle. It felt good to have Miles' head resting against his shoulder. 

If Lyle could, he'd stay like this forever, holding Miles and giving him some reprieve from his fucked up life. 

After some minutes, he'll take Miles to his quarters, where he can get some needed sleep. And Lyle will be in there to make him feel safe.

Even if that meant a potential blackeye. Again. 

Chapter Text

That's the deal. Become a soldier, fight for the people, and they'll be safe. 

Keep Eleanor and Scarlett safe. 

To be a good soldier, they had to be strong. They have to hurt some to protect others. It's what every soldier must do. 

Can Miles be a killer? He's caused deaths, but he hasn't directly done it before. 

"Fucking hell, Raf. Think the wart can do it?" Richard asked, lighting his cigarette. "Bit of a useless wimp." 

"He'll do it," Rafael grinned, glancing at Miles. "He's got to keep his end of the deal, or the girls are comfort women for some sleaze."

What's a comfort woman?

"Alright them. I'll watch over Nathaniel. That brat will be the death of me."

"If he does, I'll have to prioritize him over Mildred here." 

He hated it when Rafael called him that. It was an insult to make him feel weak, which he did already. 

For his sisters and brother, Miles had to do whatever Rafael said. 

"Alright, shitstain. Fall in," Rafael ordered,  making Miles stand firm before him. "We're cutting down a commie sympathizer. Know what that is?"

"Uh, no."

"No, what?"

"No, sir!"

"That's what I thought," Rafael stated, his dark eyes narrowing slightly. Miles lowered his head, avoiding Rafael's harsh gaze. "A commie is an evil person, a threat to the American way. Nowadays, an American is some twerp, sucking some rich dick for a glance at golden toilets in New York. Real Americans don't stand for that shit. To be a marine, you gotta be strong and eradicate the commie plague." 

He still doesn't understand what a commie is. 

What even is an American? It's not clear to him. 

"I put in some calls to my buddies. You've got three hours," Richard said, sitting at the table.

Only the men were allowed there; they had to eat on the floor. It was a clean floor, so there weren't any complaints from him and Nathaniel. 

Rafael grabbed Miles' shoulder, gripping tightly. 

"Look at me, wimp," Rafael ordered, forcing Miles to lift his head. "You're going to do as I say. You'll become a man tonight." 

Aren't you supposed to become a man at eighteen? 

Miles didn't want to argue with Rafael, however. He was hard and strong, a force of nature, and the only source of safety for his sisters. 

"In the car, boy," he commanded, opening the door and nearly shoving him outside. 

It's raining. 

Mama once told a story of how the rain was so clear and clean that you could drink it. He was mesmerized by it as a kid, enthralled by the old world his mother loved. 

It is not clear or clean; the liquid stung his skin, growing more acidic by the year. 

Rafael strode past him, proud and confident. It was the opposite of Miles, so uncertain and nervous. As Trevor was no person, was Rafael a man? 

What is a man, exactly? For a long time, he presumed it was the next stage in development, like from child to tween and so on. 

From how Rafael and Richard talk about being a man, it seems like a title, a badge of pride and power.

Miles was lacking in both. 

He got in the back of the car, keeping his head down as Rafael started to drive. 

Can he do this? It didn't feel like he could. 

Rafael said they were an evil commie, but he didn't know what that was. 

Miles looked out of the window, watching everything pass. More people live in this area, but it's not better; it's sad, cold and distant. He can see people huddled together, hiding in alleyways to escape the rain; some were crying. 

Why is it that everyone had to suffer? What was the reason? It didn't make sense to him. 

Misery is the default for humanity, but did it have to be?

"You're quiet," Rafael said, startling the teen. 

"I don't get it. Why everyone has to be miserable." 

"You're naive and young. The thing is, kiddo, humans are tribal people. We need to have a social hierarchy to function. The problem is that that tribe got too big. It became a fight to sit at the top of the pyramid and leave the others to suffer. They live in giant mansions, castles and spaceships, free of sorrow. People like us? We're outside that hierarchy; we're fighting it." 

"Is that what a commie is?"

"Yeah. Commies sit on top of everyone else. People like them are why you lived in shit before you came to me."

Didn't Rafael come to Miles? 

It wasn't wise to question that. 

"So, the person we're going to kill. Are they a top commie?"

"No, but they're minions. Think of this as a stepping stone, the first part of a ladder. Although you aren't ready, you'll get there. I'll make sure of it." 

It's weird to use a person as a stepping stone. He wanted to do something about their lives. Does killing somebody truly change anything?

It bettered his family's life after Trevor died. Although, that was after they lost their mother. 

Miles' inaction cost them their mother. Will being more active prevent others from losing their mama?

He isn't sure. He's conflicted. 

"There's a tradition," Rafael started, intriguing Miles. "When you've got no family or wish you didn't, you take the name of your first kill - proof that you're a man, that you're strong, someone to be relied on." 

Miles felt his body stop moving, freezing solid as if in a photo. The world seemed to vanish for a few seconds. 

He hated it when that happened. 

"Did you do this?"

"Yep. My dead surname is Cruz. The woman that gave it to me was a real piece of work, a nasty lady. She got remarried to an even bigger sack of garbage, but she loved him like he was the second coming of Jesus. I took his surname and his life - her cries of pain satiated me. I left her alive because the pain of losing that love was worse than whatever I could do to her."

Oh. 

Is Rafael suggesting that Miles should do the same? 

His brother and sisters had their mother's surname, but he couldn't take it. He's why Mom is dead. How could he hurt her further by taking her name as well? 

But he hated his "father". He didn't want that thing's surname. 

"My mom was nice."

"It's cute that you think that. Kids always think their moms are good, but then they grow up." 

"She was the only good in our life." 

"That's just fucking sad." 

He didn't want Rafael to ruin his mother's memory. She was a good person, a great mother, and the best part of his life. 

Miles kept to himself, thinking over the tradition Rafael mentioned. Could he do it? It's possible. 

After what felt like hours, the car stopped outside a house. It looked strange. Everything was so...

Clean. 

The lights were on, even though it was nighttime. They had electricity to spare?

Rafael exited the car, not waiting for Miles. He had to hurry behind the man, unsure of the location. It didn't seem like a lair where an evil person would live.

It seemed homey and cosy. 

The man handed Miles a loaded pistol, making him hold it correctly. Keep his finger off the trigger unless he meant to shoot. 

Having the item in his hands caused doubts to grow. He was going to do it; he needed to. 

Why did the gun feel so heavy in his hands?

Rafael held an automatic rifle and kicked the door off its hinges. The sound startled Miles, almost like thunder. Splinters flew away, and a screw tumbled to Miles' feet. 

"Evening, Rodger!" Rafael shouted, aiming his big gun into the living room. 

Miles was enthralled. The floor was so shiny he could nearly see his reflection, and there was a clean rug. There were pretty pictures on the wall and intact stairs - the ones in his original home weren't safe enough to climb. There were more shoes than he'd seen in his entire life on a single rack. 

These are wealthy people. How else could they afford this?

The people on top leave the rest in misery. 

As Miles followed behind Rafael, he saw more than "Rodger". There were five people, three of which weren't adults. A small dog barked at them, the first living one Miles had ever seen. It was black and white with mismatched eyes, a beautiful animal. It looked so fluffy and frightened. 

"Take the mutt outside," Rafael ordered, snapping his fingers. "Now, boy!"

Miles nodded his head, ducking his head to avoid Rafael's AR. The dog growled and whined, scared. Uncertain of what to do, Miles grabbed the dog's collar, pulling it. 

It whimpered, looking to the family as Miles pulled it away. It struggled against him, crying for its people. He felt sorry for the animal. What little he knew about dogs told him they're loyal and loving. 

When he was little, he begged Trevor and his mom for a dog. His excuse of a father laughed and broke a bottle over his head for daring to ask for something. 

Even though it was struggling, its fur was comforting. 

Once Miles was outside, he could hear some of Rafael's angry shouting. That Rodger guy seriously pissed him off. 

The dog licked Miles' hand, the heat and wetness scaring him. Dangling from the collar was a golden circle - it said Cupcake. 

What would happen to the dog after they kill, presumably, Rodger? He didn't want the animal punished or hurt. 

Miles opened the backdoor of the car, encouraging Cupcake inside. 

"You'll be safe in here," he promised, scratching the dog's head. The fur made him feel comfortable, possibly even safe. "Good dog." 

He left the animal and returned to Rafael's side, analyzing the five. They've been handcuffed, unable to use their arms. There's Rodger, the one that Rafael looked especially pissed at. 

There's a woman. She had pretty coiled hair and darker skin than Rodger's. Her eyes were nearly black, which was cool to see.

The children were two males and a female. The eldest child looked angry more than scared, scowling defiantly at Rafael. He was a big kid, maybe seventeen or so. The other boy was far younger, maybe eight or nine.

The girl is younger than Ellie, possibly four or five. 

What was Rafael going to do about them and the mother? 

"I'm sorry, Raf," Rodger whimpered, sounding desperate. "I will pay you back. I will!"

"Sorry is a pretty little bow on a decapitated head, old buddy," Rafael snarked, keeping the gun trained on him. "I'll get my pay in another way. Boy, keep them here. If they move, shoot them," Rafael ordered, his eyes burning through Miles' back. 

He grabbed the middle child, the young boy, by the hair. His family screamed and cried as Rafael pulled him away, going to what looked like the garage. 

Miles kept his pistol on Rodger, heart beating fast. What did Rodger owe Rafael? Was it money?

That conflicted with what Rafael told him. That tended to happen a lot. 

The teen boy tried to launch himself at Miles.

Miles pulled the trigger, hitting the teenager in his gut. The family cried for the teenager, and then the screaming started. It came from the garage, a soul-shattering cry, one of agony. He didn't hear that after Rochelle lost her head or when Mom died. 

What was Rafael doing?

The man, Rodger, started pleading with Miles, begging him to let them go. The mother asked where Miles' family was and if that man was his father.

They pleaded to let the girl go and to let them save their son. 

Miles took his eyes off the parents, fixated on the teen, trying to ignore that boy's screaming. It wouldn't stop. 

He was shaking, his stomach churning at the teen as he started to cough up blood, crying for his mommy to stop the pain. His mother could only sob, promising him that everything would be ok. 

They didn't seem like bad people. He can't do this. 

As if detecting Miles' resolve falter, Rafael returned. He threw the boy at his kneeling parents, curled in the fetal position, sobbing. 

The boy didn't look injured other than a possible black eye. What did Rafael do to him, and why was his pants off? Did the boy kick them off somehow in a struggle?

Maybe Rafael grabbed them, and when the kid tried getting away, the pants slid off; he didn't know. 

There's a confusing amount of blood on the child's thighs. He must've slipped on a nail. 

"Attaboy," Rafael grinned, patting Miles' shoulder and watching the teenager cry. Miles couldn't help but notice a shine of red on the rifle's muzzle. "You got to finish what you started."

"I can't," Miles said, shaking.

Rafael's eyes narrowed as he swung the rifle over his shoulder. He grabbed Miles' hands, pushing them towards the teenager. When the boy yelled something unintelligible, Rafael squeezed Miles' fingers, causing the pistol to go off. 

A hole was where his left eye used to be. 

Miles felt something rising in his throat. It was thick and hot, like magma rising from a volcano. 

"You keep it down," Rafael demanded, grabbing Miles' hair and forcing him to look at the man. "You wanted to do this, Miles. You want to be a man for your sisters. Get it done. Or do you not care about them?"

Ellie and Little Bug. 

"I do!" Miles yelled, his chest constricting. "I love my sisters!"

He fed Little Bug and rocked her to sleep. He was there for Eleanor's nightmares. He kept them warm and told them sweet nothings. He told them stories from their mother about the big sharks and the long-extinct bison. 

Ellie loved the stories about the first nations people and the myths from their mother's religion.

Judaism had many tales, and she loved them. 

"Then get it done," Rafael stated, scowling at Rodger, who was sobbing something ugly. "You see that, Miles? That is a weakness. When you cry like a baby, you're useless, unable to do anything. Real men, true leaders, and marines don't cry. Are you a soldier, willing to sacrifice anything for your sisters, or are you some weak pussy that'll die on his knees?"

He looked at Rodger, imagining himself as that man. Someone who couldn't defend their family and keep them safe. On his knees, sobbing his eyes out, a weak man. 

The world disappeared for a few seconds, and his body was frigid. With the tightening of his muscles came a bang. 

When the world returned to normal, Rodger lay against his retching wife, blood leaking from his neck.  

The little girl shrieked for her daddy. 

He saw Ellie in her place, begging for Miles and Nathaniel to protect her. 

"I'm done," Miles said, feeling coldness wash over him. "I killed him."

"We're done when I say we are, boy," Rafael sneered, aiming his rifle at the woman. She screamed as he filled her with lead, unblinking. "Finish the final two, and we're done."

The children. 

"I can't."

"You can and you will. They're commies too. If we leave, they'll get big and come for your sisters," Rafael warned, scaring Miles. "They'll pin them down and kill them, maybe more. The boy might even rape them. Can you imagine that?"

He didn't know what that was, but it didn't sound good. 

Biting his lip, shaking, Miles aimed at the crying boy.

Miles couldn't do it, imagining Nathaniel in his place. His chest felt tight, and the air was thinner than usual. 

Rafael hit Miles in the face with his rifle, causing blood to burst from his nose and lip. The thirteen-year-old shivered under Rafael's nasty scowl, grabbing him by the hair and pulling him back up.

"Now. Mildred. Or we leave here, and your sisters won't have anywhere to live anymore. We made a deal. After all, you wanted this."

"I did-"

"You don't want that old fucker's last name. I went out of my way to help you, to give you a chance and let you in on a sacred tradition. I've been kind to you, Miles, and you're spitting on me. Why're you making me hurt you to make you keep a simple deal?"

Everything confused Miles. Things that he knew and what Rafael said didn't make sense; they conflicted with one another, like oil and water. 

But he needed his sisters to be safe. He couldn't let them be in terror and suffer like the people on the streets. He can't protect them there. 

Water brimming his eyes, Miles raised the pistol, feeling himself detach from the world. He pulled the trigger, hitting that poor girl in the chest. With mechanical motion, Miles aimed at the boy, who had stopped crying. 

There was a pleading in that little boy's eyes, begging him to end it. Feeling vomit rise in his throat, Miles pulled the trigger again. 

He puked, retching, water running down his cheeks in grief and pain. He didn't even know these people but felt sympathy for them. 

"That's a good lad," Rafael praised, patting his back. The positive reward confused him further. "Wipe your eyes. Men aren't sobbing pussies." 

He helped Miles stand, not nearly as rough as before. 

Miles didn't want to be a man, not if this was the requirement. 

How was he any better than Trevor? 

"You're free of Trevor's bullshit now, Miles. You're a Quaritch now."

That's his new name. He's free from Trevor's legacy, but at what cost? 

Rafael paused, staring at the dog in the back of his car. 

"The fuck is that doing in my baby?"

"I didn't want it coming inside," Miles said, not recognizing his voice; it was so cold and hollow. He felt numb. "What do we do with it?"

"I'll tell you what. Since you did so well and even capped a fucker without me there, you can keep the thing. You'll feed it yourself, and when it dies, you'll bury the rodent. Deal?"

"Ok," Miles whimpered, his head hurting. 

He didn't want any deals. They hurt. 

Rafael put Miles in the backseat with the dog. He felt distant, not present, even when the dog sniffed his tear-filled face. 

All he could muster was stroking the dog's back as it whimpered. It didn't know that its family was dead, and it was Miles' fault. 

Is this his punishment for killing his mother?

Fine, then. 

Quaritch it is. 

Chapter Text

His son looked better. 

Whatever his nightmare was, it affected his boy deeply.

Quaritch hurt to see his son in such emotional pain, but his feelings weren't as important. His son was what mattered. 

His beautiful boy. 

"Milly," his sister said, standing in the doorway to his dorm. It was too small for him, and he hated it. Even having Lyle stay with him didn't make it feel like home. "Lyle asked me to see how you're doing. It's been a tough few days." 

"Has something happened?" Quaritch asked, his ears perking with concern. 

Little Bug walked to him, concern in her eyes. She had to reach up to cup his face, looking deeply into his golden eyes. It perplexed him, but her touch wasn't unwelcome. 

He loved her. He loved her since she was a bump on Mama's belly. 

She's grown so much since she left. It's hard not to see that baby who'd cry if he wasn't holding her. 

Quaritch taught her to walk, speak, use the bathroom and protect herself. He fought hard to give her a chance, which he never got. 

"I don't know everything that happened, Milly. I was a child, and you and Nate worked hard to keep me and Ellie from the worst. I didn't appreciate how hard that was until my babies; I regret it took me that long," Scarlett said, watching for every movement on his face. 

"We did a good job. My nieces and nephew are cute. Even your partner is alright." 

Realistically, no man would be good enough for his Little Bug. That's something he can't change. However, she's a grown woman, and he can't tell her who or how to be with somebody she loves.

If that eyeglasses-wearing bastard hurt his Little Bug, he'd flay him alive. 

And his nieces and nephew were adorable. Tiny Finn was an angel, Jesse was sweet, and Robin was adventurous. 

It's baffling to think he was her age when he got his surname. 

"I can thank you for that, of course. I told them all about Uncle Milly, and I'm glad they got to meet you, even if you're blue," she smiled, though he could tell it was sad. "You were the closest I had to a father, y'know."

He was.

When he thought about it seriously, he was her father. He raised her. She turned out amazingly, even making mini bugs. Did that mean he could be a good dad for Spider?

He raised Eleanor, too. She was also his baby, a small thing that didn't deserve the bullshit she endured. If there was a god, it was cruel and sadistic. 

Scarlett brought her hand behind his neck, guiding him downwards. 

It was bizarre how fragile she was now. He could snap her arm with his fingers. Why is that?

In her hands, he was clay, scared to hurt her by accident. She was like his daughter; he couldn't bare hurting his babies. 

She was once so small and able to fit in one arm. He once cooked eggs while holding her because she wouldn't sleep without him, and Ellie needed food. 

Little Bug is still that baby. 

He didn't know when, but he was on his back, head on her lap. He could smell the salt of tears that weren't his. 

"I wish I knew her," Scarlett said, her breath shaky. "Our mother. You and Nate always had good things to say about her. Nathan said she was the only light in the darkness."

"She got sick after you. Trevor wasn't going to do shit, so we looked after you. She'd tell stories about sharks, but the Akedah was her favourite."

"The Binding of Isaac. I know it well."

"Mama said to Nate and me that the only sacrifice should be our selfishness, how compassion ended pain, and those in power aren't always in the right, not even God. Empathy and sympathy were the sharpest swords in any armoury. There wasn't a shred of hate in that woman's soul."

And yet, she died anyway. 

He never left that closet, staring as Trevor snuffed out the only light remaining in their horrid world. A piece of him died with her. 

Quaritch felt her hands touch his cheek, her thumb grazing against his cropped ear. The smell of salt was strong, and not only from Little Bug. 

"That wasn't your fault, Milly," Little Bug said, her voice filled with ache. "You were only a child. What could you've possibly done?" 

Anything. He could've done something. 

"Inaction's just as bad as action." 

A bystander, a weak crybaby that couldn't do what was right. He was frozen, unable to move away, holding onto his sisters for dear life. 

They were all that mattered to him. His Little Bug and Ellie were his reason for waking up.

He wouldn't have survived without them. 

"Would you blame Jesse for doing nothing?"

The comparison wasn't fair. She was a sensitive soul, a sweet girl that knew nothing of anguish. Her only obstacle was epilepsy, and even then, it was medicated. 

It was impossible not seeing her in a closet, clinging to Robin with a scared Finn in their arms. 

He was their age. Younger, even. 

What was he supposed to do? Kids aren't supposed to be pawns or toys for horrible men. 

They need love, support, acceptance and open arms. Without that, you're left with an empty shell. 

"I was supposed to look after you," he said, feeling his chest grow tight. 

"You did, but you shouldn't have had to, Milly. You're a Taylor; compassion and self-sacrifice are almost genetic." 

He wasn't. He never could be. 

"I can't insult her like that."

"Why, Ach Gadol?"

That was a low blow, calling him her big brother in Hebrew. It made him think of Mama, how she could speak that language fluently and was excited to share it with him and Nathaniel. 

Speaking any of it felt like a spit on her grave. 

"Rafael took me out one night," Quaritch started, feeling himself grow distant from his physical being. "A tradition amongst his cult of lunatics -  when you have the family you wish you didn't, or had no family, you take someone else's name as a trophy, as proof that you're a worthy man. He took me to a nice house - white picket fence shit. There was a family and a... pet."

"He took you to kill someone named Quaritch?"

"Rodger was the father. It wasn't until a decade later that I learned the other names. The mother's name was Kayla, a nurse. Their eldest child's name was Kyle, about seventeen, a gifted engineer. The other boy, Shawn, roughly nine, was disabled but a bright kid. The last one was Amelia, around four. Their pet was called Cupcake. And they all died." 

He would wear their name not as a trophy but as punishment. They were good people who did nothing wrong; their only crime was borrowing money from a piece of shit like Rafael. 

They needed that money to pay for Shawn's support; he needed it in school. They were desperate to help their baby boy. He may have done the same in their place; he'd do anything for Spider. 

Quaritch felt Scarlett stroke his hair, either to soothe herself or him. It's getting long; he's yet to cut it in nearly three months. The curls were showing through. 

Thankfully, it was one of the few things Spider got from him. 

"What'd he do, Milly?"

"I dunno what he was demanding at first; I had to take the pet outside. When I returned, he was pissed off with Rodger; he'd handcuffed them. He took Shawn into the garage. I didn't know what he was doing then; I focused on the four, trying to drown out the screaming. He was assaulting that kid."

Shawn had done nothing to deserve that; no child could earn such a fate. Why did he do it? What possible gratification could come from destroying a child's soul like that?

It almost felt like a threat. Do what Rafael said, or that would happen to him. 

He hasn't been able to see rifles the same since realising he used the muzzle on the poor kid, too. He's always preferred using a knife to a gun. 

It reminded him of the day he shoved one in that bastard's neck. 

"Kyle tried to help his little brother, and I shot him. Rafael came back and praised me for it. I shot Rodger in the throat. He wasn't done; he killed Kayle and ordered me to kill the last two. I did it. He said that the boy would grow up to assault you and Ellie - I didn't understand it then, but I knew it was awful. I did as he said, or you would get hurt." 

It was Rafael's favourite game, to threaten his sisters to make him do what Rafael wanted. 

It worked on Nathaniel, too. Neither of them could bear losing those girls.

Until they did. 

He didn't like how empty he sounded. It was like he was reading a grocery list. 

"I'm so sorry, Milly," she said, leaning to kiss his feline-like nose. It didn't wash away the shame he carried. "I'm sorry that nobody helped you." 

"It didn't end," he continued, not feeling present anymore. "The pet. It was... a dog. A collie, I think. Her name was Cupcake. Rafael said I could keep her for doing a good job." His body was rigid like stone, his breathing feeling heavy. "He made me shoot her eight months later as a "lesson"." 

He hated to remember her. She was so kind and innocent, and it pained him to remember her. 

Naming his flying partner "Cupcake" was a mistake. She refused to be called anything else. He couldn't argue with how a being wanted to refer to itself. 

He missed that fucking dog. 

"How old were you?"

"It was four months after Mama died, so thirteen. He sent me to the Marines. I had to put her down before leaving." 

It was a bullshit lesson. 

Rafael didn't want to look after the dog, so he made Quaritch kill her. He was never far away, lurking around and watching Quaritch like a shadow. 

Even in his death, Quaritch couldn't escape him. 

"How can I help my boy when I'm so damaged?"

His boy was his life. 

He loved his team; they were his family. He loved Little Bug's family and even liked the Crimson Fin folk. He loved being around his best friend and confidant, Lyle; he always knew how to manage Quaritch's shit. 

And he was desperate to help his son. He wanted Spider to be happy, loved and safe; why couldn't he do that for him?

"With what makes you the strongest man I've ever known," Scarlett said, sniffling, a drop falling onto his cheek. "Your heart. Your empathy. You know how it feels to be used and thrown away; that's how Milly."

He hated that she was right. 

They tossed Spider aside like garbage. He knew how that felt. It lingered with him for decades. 

Can he use his pain to help Spider?

"I don't want him to end up like me."

"You say that like you're a terrible man, Milly. If you were as terrible as you think you are, I wouldn't have two beautiful daughters, an amazing son and a kind husband, a strong brother, and a very talented nephew." 

How are the people around him so kind-hearted to believe that? 

Great people don't execute children, regardless of the bastard manipulating you to do it. He held the gun; it was his fault. 

Five lovely people were gone because of him, including their innocent dog, which he kidnapped. 

If his awfulness can help Spider, then so be it. 

"She'd be proud of you, Little Bug."

His sister sniffled, her eyes going red as water leaked from them. 

"Thank you, Milly."

Spider slid down the wall, trying to stay quiet. 

There are bad people, and then there's that. 

His dad was hurting, and all his father could think about was Spider and his sister. That's not the trait of an evil man. 

He heard more about Grandma Daisy; he wished he met her, too. However short she was in his dad's life, she sounded incredible. 

While Spider was still intimidated by Scarlett, he could empathise would her. He never got to meet his mother, either. They had something to bond over and share, a common ground which made her less daunting. 

It put into perspective why Dad was so adamant about Spider not being a soldier and why he was disgusted that Lo'ak was trying to be one. It was a source of pain for him, something he empathised with far deeper than Spider had realised until now. 

Dad knew how it felt to be left behind, thrown away like he didn't matter. It was something that Spider tried to delude himself into being okay with. 

Deja wouldn't let him, though, even when Spider was an asshole to them. They were his family, the people he could depend on. 

When Spider's nightmares scared him and threatened to break his heart, his family would be there. His father, who loved Spider for him, would be there. 

Spider wanted to return the favour somehow. It didn't feel right to get the support and give none back. 

That's not what Taylors do.

Chapter Text

Dad's Na'vi is still awful. He couldn't make the necessary nasal sounds, so it always sounded broken; his accent was too thick. 

However, he's caught onto the sea folk sign language quickly. Of course, Delta was happy to help, showing him what to do with that extra finger. 

Because Spider's mother was from Colombia, a Spanish-speaking place, he wanted to learn some with Bruno and Ja. It's aggravatingly tricky, though. 

How many languages did his parents speak? From what he's seen, Miles can understand Spanish, Romanian, Welsh, English, rough Na'vi, and hell knew what. 

He'll go easier on his dad for his atrocious Na'vi. Not entirely, though. It's still his job as the son to annoy his father as much as possible. 

"Salt in his coffee!" Robbie suggested with a big grin on her face. 

"Nah. Miles doesn't drink coffee. He keeps stealing my dad's soda; you can try that," Sterling said, fiddling with his small gaming device. 

"How do you know that?" Jesse asked, leaning over to peak at his game. "Can I have a turn when you're done?"

"For the first question, the guy has a sweet tooth worse than Rhett's. Secondly, you get a turn after I die."

"You never die!" Jesse whined.

"Everyone dies eventually, J."

Now that Spider has a father, he could lose him. Again. 

He didn't want to lose his dad. He wanted to live peacefully, bow-fishing with him and flying on Cupcake together. No matter how annoying or useless Spider was, his dad remained nearby. Even after Spider tried getting him killed, his dad wouldn't leave. 

That's what a father is supposed to be. 

The door to the recreational room opened. He observed as Li wheeled in with their mom behind them; she had a solemn expression. 

"Hey, Miss Wei!" Robin greeted, waving at the woman. 

"Good morning to you too, Robbie," Miss Wei smiled, briefly waving to the girl. "Spider, Scarlett wants to talk to you in her office." 

"Whats mom want?" Jesse asked, almost skipping to Li's side.

"Nothing bad, J," Li assured, facing Spider. "You've been avoiding Scarlett like the plague, man. She's cool."

"Uber," Sterling added, earning a gag from Robbie. 

He wished that Delta was here and not with her foster father. She could give him advice, even if it required writing.

When it came to reading and writing in English, Spider's could have been better. He would have to employ his uncles and aunts to help.

Reyah is particularly nice to him. She said that his eyes are as bright as when he was a tiny toddler that would chew on his mom's boots. Why Spider chewed on his mother's boots, he couldn't fathom. It made his dad, Noah and Lyle smile, though. 

Taliesin is even more awkward than Spider, astoundingly. He's struggling to talk to others, though big girl Ross is happy to listen to him. 

He didn't know about Brett, however. When it came to Reed, he was stoic and always lost in thought. Did he think about his former life? 

Spider didn't even go near Lucy. She was a loud and aggressive Recombinant with no concept of restraint; Kane nearly broke Ian's ribs with her tail the other day!

Although he's only met two Australians, they're unsavoury. Is it a culture thing, or are they dickheads? It's difficult to say. 

Ian is nice. Why is Scoresby such an asshole to him? 

He should ask his uncles to make Scoresby leave Ian alone. Or his dad. 

Spider suspected that Scarlett would skin the man alive. She was raised by his dad, too, after all. 

That makes her both terrifying and less scary. 

He's put it off for too long. He needs to talk with his auntie. 

"I'll see you guys later. We're going to the Kallan before noon; I'll bring you back something cool," Spider promised, watching his cousins' eyes widen with excitement. 

They're completely innocent of everything, bright and naive. It's something that Spider was denied, and there would never be a good excuse for it. 

It's going to take a long time to heal from that. The people meant to look after him were his harmers. All Spider had was his friends, maybe Mo'at but only distantly. 

"Have a good day," Sterling waved, possibly deliberately "dying" in his game. He handed the device to Jesse, smiling at her beaming expression. 

Could Spider have had that once? If his parents weren't killed, if his family survived and if he grew up with someone that loved him. 

Probably. 

Spider could've grown up with his cousins. They would be like his siblings. His parents could've been there, making him feel safe and wanted; his mom could be there to love him. 

He has to grieve a life taken from him for no less than pettiness. 

Spider made his way to his aunt's office. The building is getting easier to navigate now. It's straightforward compared to the SeaDragon. 

Kids aren't meant to be around the offices and labs, but he was requested. 

The door splits apart, disappearing into the walls. It's freaky, and he'll never get used to it. 

"Ah, Spider, it's good to see you," Scarlett said, encouraging him to enter. 

When Spider walked through, the door shut behind him. The woman patted on a chair, eagerly waiting for him. 

He didn't know what she wanted. She didn't look upset or angry; that was a good sign. 

Spider sat across from Scarlett, feeling out of place. Even with his changed hair and wearing pants, he still looked off compared to Scarlett's cleanliness. 

"I heard it the other day," Spider said, unsure why he was so loose-lipped now. "How Miles got his name." 

His aunt looked saddened to hear that. 

"We have a lot in common," she said, and he couldn't argue. "How old were you? When your mother passed."

"About two. Nobody talked about her, though. They didn't even know her name." 

"I'm sorry for that," Scarlett sighed, reaching her hand over his. "Can I hold your hand?"

He nodded, and she grasped it gently, providing textile comfort. 

The touch of a loving mother. He saw it with Neytiri and Kiri but was denied from experiencing it. He only recently learned the love of a father. 

"When I was your age, I was sheltered. My brothers did a good job protecting me, especially Milly. I didn't know a fraction of what you've already experienced. You're a strong young man, stronger than you should've ever had to be." 

"I wonder what it could've been like."

"Too many have succumbed to that thought, the repeating question of "What if". We can't change the past, so we do our best to make the now less scary. Nathan told me something my mother used to say that stuck with me - the smallest of things can be the brightest light in the dark." 

Empathy and sympathy are the sharpest swords in any armoury. The smallest of things can be the brightest light in the dark.

His grandmother was wise, and he was sad that he never met her. She sounded like an Earth Tsahik. 

"What's your torch?"

"My family. Seeing my daughters, hugging my son, holding my husband, seeing my brother again, and meeting my incredible nephew. Do you know what yours is?" 

"Family. I have a family that wants me, even when I'm annoying. A sense of belonging."

All love is conditional; everyone has a limit where they can't love somebody any more. However, Spider knew in his heart that Miles would sooner die again than ever leave Spider's side. 

That's what a father does. He protects. 

He has Spider's heart in his hands, and he cherishes it. His father held Spider in his arms as Spider slept, staying awake to make him feel safe. It's something that Spider longed for. 

Spider belongs with his father and his family. They don't fit in, so they forge a new clan.

"Although I never met your mother, I know she'd be very proud of you, Spider. You have a lot of love in your heart, and that's a fantastic quality. Compassion is becoming scarce nowadays; it's invaluable." 

"I feel like a Taylor as well as a Socorro. It took eight months. Is it ok to be a Taylor too?"

"Of course it is," Scarlett smiled, holding his hand gently. "You're always welcome with us, Miles."

It didn't feel like an insult to be called that anymore. 

"Thank you," he smiled back, regretting putting this off for so long. "Is there anything I can do to help my dad? I want to. I want to repay what he's done for me."

"Seeing your smile is all the repayment Milly needs. You're his entire world; if it ever came to it, god forbid, he'd choose you over me, and I wouldn't have it any other way." 

While Spider fully intended to prank his father and uncles, it felt good to know that. Who knew his father better than Scarlett?

All he needed to do was smile for his father. It didn't feel like enough, but the thought almost brought tears to his eyes. 

The love and acceptance of a parent. It's worth more than air for Spider. 

It's something he'll fight to keep. He won't lose his dad again. 

Chapter Text

It shouldn't be this way. 

A long time ago, Lyle dreamed of his family, his shitty original home, where he became a marine and even Hell's Gate. Now it's the sea, the forest and blue. Everything is blue. His best buddies, his CO, and even his godson are blue. 

His old family's faces would change from human to Na'vi, their eyes going yellow. It was a good look on his wife, admittedly. 

Lei was already a beautiful badass. A Na'vi version of her? That's something else entirely.

Everyone is blue. It's like that ancient song his mother was obsessed with. 

He should be sad about that. He's not, though. 

His children looked beautiful with those kitty noses. It was painful knowing how much Xiang would've loved Pandora. 

When Lyle sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, the low hum of electricity passed over his ears. It's incredible how different his senses are compared to before. 

The sound of his CO breathing soothed a bubbling anxiety deep within. 

He didn't know what compelled Miles to suggest they share a room, but it helped. If Lyle was haunted by those arrows again, all he had to do was look, and Miles was there, alive, unmarked by that feral bitch. 

When the Recoms were asleep, they looked their biological age. There are little quirks in everybody. 

Lopez snores, and his ears cringe each time. Even when unconscious, Lopez's mouth caused irritation and ire. It's a wonder how Zelda can put up with him; she's seemingly immune to his obnoxious noise. Maybe the Ikran is deaf? If she wasn't, she is now. 

Prager's tail dances like a pissed-off snake. His feet are constantly moving, too. 

Ja is always in a freaky, unnatural position like he's been possessed. The man turns himself into a pretzel and dares call that comfortable. 

Z-Dog is usually half out the bed, leg in the air and drooling. If she isn't doing sleep yoga, she's got her tail in the air and head under the pillow. 

Mansk sleeps on his back like a psychopath or vampire, perhaps even both. 

Reyah has to sleep under stuff. He never understood it, but it was her little thing. 

He remembered vividly entering Miles' office and seeing Reyah asleep under his desk. The said CO was drinking his coffee alongside Max, and the three started a bet to see how long it'd take for her to wake up. Even Augustine got in on it when she came to annoy Miles out of boredom. 

That bastard Max won the bet, even how she'd wake up. Poor girl shot up like a zombie and bashed her forehead on Miles' desk. 

What are the others like? Kane is never around, Arondottir can sleep standing up - which is horrific, O'Brien's too anxious and hell knew what Reed did. The Englishman probably had a cot made out of colonized baby souls.

If not for Miles' condition, Lyle would've woken him up so they could get some food early. They might even miss Mansk complaining about the quality of their cuisine. The dude has become the Ramsay of fish. 

Given how Firefly will linger whenever he's outside over a fire, maybe that's why she chose him. She gets a free meal whenever he's in the mood to cook. 

What made Whiskey choose Lyle? His loveable airhead put up a fight, nearly taking Lyle's head off. 

The same could be asked for any of the Ikran. Why them? Even though Spider pointed Cupcake out, there wasn't a guarantee she'd take an interest. 

As Lyle understood it, it was like life on Earth with animals. Take them, claim them, bend them to your will. It's not like that on Pandora. He didn't meet many animals, either. 

Still, he knew about farms and that sort of thing. Animals like pigs were taken from the wild and domesticated, which is a nice word for enforced servitude. They tried to do something similar to people of different melanin. History is a weird and confusing concept. 

How do you look at somebody, and because they look different, you treat them like animals? At least with the Ikran, they're a separate species. 

While they're both blue, he and Miles look very different. He has hair, for one. 

Miles' stripes are a lot prettier than Lyle's, too. His freckles were soft but prominent in their intricacy. There's even a cute beauty mark on his throat, though it's usually hidden under his comm collar. 

As much as seeing him alive and peaceful put Lyle at ease, it didn't soothe the other part of himself; the louder, younger and eager side. 

His desires won't dissipate. 

It's different from when he fell for Lei. There's an intense pulling, magnetizing, and it grew more powerful with each breath they shared. He should try and stick to his room, as small as it is, but the nightmare of those damn arrows was overpowering. 

The question that followed is harder to escape from. "Where were you?"

Where was Lyle when his best friend perished alone? Left to rot and decay in solitude, far from the people he died for. 

In their deaths, little Spider survived but never lived. Not until they returned from the dead and, albeit through unconventional means, rescued him from a terrible place. 

Without that kid, what were the chances they would have the tail to consider taking up arms against the RDA? They lost everything they knew and loved; all they had was a burning hatred for the man that ruined their lives and killed their families. 

Spider's more than their monkey mascot, more than Miles' son and Lyle's godson - he's their reason for living, not merely surviving. 

That's a debt that can't ever be repaid. All they can do is let him know that they love him. 

His father has loved that boy since Topaz first forced the babe into his arms. It's like a switch went off. 

So has Lyle. He has great respect for the tyke. Little brat inherited the best and worst of both parents; Paz and Miles' stubbornness quadrupled in Spider, but so did their indomitable will to keep going. 

Surprisingly, Paz didn't return as a revenant or ghost, haunting anyone that looked at her baby wrong. She was a scary mama bear. 

Lyle's ears flew up as he heard a grunt. 

"Why're you up?" came a thick southern drawl. 

"Why're you up?" Lyle shot back, his tail waving, excited to see a yellow eye peeking at him. "Should go back to sleep. It's still early." 

"Heard somethin'. It's stopped now." 

"Lopez's snoring?"

"Surprisingly, no," Miles sighed, rolling onto his front in a huff. "Singing. I heard singing." 

That's weird. 

"You mean like with the mermaid?"

"No. It was a different song. Angry and scared, almost like a warning." 

"Damn, Nicodemus. Got any prophecies for me?"

"Yeah, you're gonna get a kick to the teeth in a few minutes," his CO grunted, rolling those bright eyes. "You have one of those night terrors again?"

It was a fair question to ask, given how Lyle ended up sharing a room with his best friend and deep crush. 

"Not exactly. My family were Na'vi-like. Freaky stuff. My wife would've looked smoking as a Recom, dang." 

Miles snorted in amusement, a warm sound compared to the ones of distress Lyle's heard more of lately. 

His friend is a troubled man, and Lyle is lucky to be trusted enough to see the lasting impact. 

"I did have a dream like that. My mama all donned up in blue. All I need is a mirror, and I see Nate's mug. I saw Ellie and Little Bug, too... and Raf." 

The mentioning of that sick fuck's name made Lyle's blood boil. 

"He an ugly fucker?"

"Sadly, no." 

Somehow, that made it worse. 

"Can't be nearly as pretty as you." 

"Always one to cheer me up, huh?"

"Damn straight. Someone has to drag your tail out of the misery muck." 

"Yeah, well, I hope I don't have to repay that favour." 

Lyle hoped so as well. 

However, he suspected that eventually; he'll break too. All of them will. 

He knew Miles would be there, even if Lyle told him to leave. Marines don't leave a man behind. 

"Being my best friend is a good payment." 

"Can't get rid of you. Like some Floridian parasite." 

"A symbiotic parasite."

"You've been listening to Garvin all of a sudden?"

"I know things!" 

"What else do you know, Doctor Wainfleet?"

That had a nice ring to it. 

"Parthenogenesis - the asexual reproduction of lizards." 

"Bullshit."

"Ask your sister; it's a real thing!" 

"Think they did that with us or something?" 

Lyle didn't know. It confused him. 

"I don't know, sir. I believe everybody has a soul, but can mere memories replicate that? There are some changes, sure, but in my heart? I don't feel all that different. It's freaky." 

He watched as Miles mulled it over, still looking sleepy but awake enough to ponder. 

"You remember when we first got on Pandora?"

"Yeah."

"Do you remember before? There was a hollowness. I didn't feel like myself; I wasn't connected to anything, not even that video of myself. Nothing clicked until I landed. It was like something switched on." 

It's probably the drowsiness talking, but a part of Lyle understood what he meant. That frightened him a little. 

"Like a jolt or something?" Lyle questioned, his ears flicking backwards. "Not like electrocuted, but like awareness, I think?"

"During Bloodstone, we hid with this freaky witch-like hag when a bad storm hit. She said all energy is borrowed; it can't be made or destroyed, only changed. When someone dies, their energy comes back as something else. It was hogwash bullshit, but maybe that's literal here." 

"What, reincarnation?"

"Everything's connected. It's like that spiritualism stuff, but literal. Maybe Eywa or whoever, maybe even that Ngaknay, gave us our souls back." 

It was impossible. It had to be. 

He thought the same for many things before coming to this moon. It changed his mind about a plethora of things. 

Is that possible? That wouldn't make them clones, but them. More than mere clones that are burdened with memories. 

Lyle didn't believe that you could replicate the soul of a living thing - Miles' drowsy hypothesis made more sense than Lyle was comfortable with. It meant that Eywa was real, undeniably. 

The Na'vi talk about Ngaknay like she's real. 

He's been so headstrong in thinking of her as a god. Instead of complicating this idea of some divine thing, he needed to simplify it. 

"Maybe Eywa is the moon or the core of it," Lyle suggested, his tail slowing. "The Ikran are a fully sapient people, as are the Tsurak and Tulkun. Maybe Eywa and even Ngaknay are sapient beings plugged into this energy network thingy." 

"Makes more sense than a god. It means that they're out there, though, physically."

"Dunno if that freaks me out or makes me feel better."

"I'm too tired to think more about it. I'll wake up in another hour or so." 

Lyle's left alone to think over their bizarre conversation. 

The Na'vi are spiritual but fairly literal people.

It made sense that their "deity" was also literal. 

He couldn't sleep with that thought racing through his head. There could be some Lovecraftian shit out there, waiting for them. 

As the Na'vi like to repeat, Ngaknay has noticed Miles, though he didn't understand what that necklace had to do with it. Was there something special in it? A pheromone or a material?

They always looked to the stone. Was it made with a piece of her? That would be freaky. 

They also call Ngaknay "Eywa's Daughter", which could be literal.

Lyle didn't know if he wanted to hear more of Miles' sleepy, barely awake ramblings, but hearing him talk was soothing.

Even if the subject was essentially cosmic horror. 

He hoped that they could talk and theorize more like this. He liked hearing Miles speak when he wasn't pained or distressed by something. 

The man's voice alone could quench Lyle of any emotional thirst he held for him. 

Jesus ice skating in hell, he's fallen hard. 

Chapter Text

The voodoo witches are making less and less sense. 

"Why am I the one you keep throwing this crap on?" Quaritch grumbled, annoyed by Nirveli's weirdness.

Grandma Tsahik was adamant about him sticking close to her, even if it was mundane. For whatever reason, Karagatan wasn't arguing with her. 

"It is to hide your sky stink," Nirveli answered, though that didn't feel like an answer. Little Aukai tossed some more blue powder on Quaritch's back. It didn't even have a smell. "It will keep you calm," she clarified. 

Oh, so they're drugging him. Neat. 

"Could've just asked if I should drink something or eat some spooky paste. The dust bath ain't necessary."

The Tsahik and her creepy Grandma stood before an odd little construct with vines and decor spread across it. It's like a hut but out of place; it doesn't fit in with the rest of the village. 

Like a Samurai going to a rave party, as Nathaniel liked to say. 

His brother was a weird guy. Not that Quaritch could say since he's now 10ft and bluer than Mansk's balls whenever Z-Dog's ass is showing. 

That's much more literal now, so the metaphor isn't as fun. Seriously, though, they need to fuck and get it over with. 

Why did it feel hypocritical to think that?

"It must pass through the skin," Karagatan stated, patting some across her chest. "You must be calm to listen." 

"Alright. Still don't get why I'm the only one doing this and not the others."

"They are not tiretu. Nor do they have the Daughter's favour." 

He had a brainless talk about that with Lyle. What even is Ngaknay, anyway? They talk about her like she's a god. That means something different on this moon, though. 

Everything is different here. 

The clans that Quaritch has met tend to be blunt and to the point. He preferred it over Augustine's weird idealistic hippie crap. 

At this rate, there might even be a Pandora Woodstock. 

That would be so fucking epic. 

"What even is a tiretu?"

"Those that are born with more sensitive ears than most," Grandma Nirveli answered, though that didn't explain anything. 

They're blunt and to the point, but Quaritch doesn't understand what that "point" is. 

The forest folk are focused on "See", but the sea folk follow that differently - more open, like the expanse of the ocean. They "Listened".

Being open-minded was imperative. 

He felt like a toddler being shown that peekaboo isn't his mama vanishing and returning. 

Spider used to love playing that. He hollered something fierce when they first played it, though. His boy had a frightening pair of lungs. 

"Why aren't the rest of my team here then? Especially Lyle. He could hear the Tulkun too." 

"That is a very different kind of listening. Even more so than the Tayezeteya people. You, young one, can feel her - The Mother, The Daughter, The Father, perhaps even The Son. One can only become a Tsahik if you learn how to heed their songs," Karagatan said, with a hum of agreement from her mother. 

Eh!?

"I'm not a Tsahik! And you called me an Olo'eyktan - different thing!"

"You can be both," Aukai clarified, confusing and startling him. 

And the kid is so quiet that Quaritch forgot he was there. The kid was sneakier than Zhang when he stole Ja's "special" cookies. 

Back to the more important subject, since when could you be both?

All the Tsahiks he's seen or even heard of were female too. The only way to tell is the mounds on their chest and shorter fangs, but other than that, Na'vi were androgynous. If Prager shaved, he could pass for a female. If he thought about it, maybe Ja, too. 

Reed would make it easy as a female Na'vi. He had the hips for it. Maybe the ass, too. 

No, Prager's ass is much nicer than the Brit's. 

He'll never get used to finding guys attractive. It was much simpler before; he understood his preference and stuck with it. Even then, he actively avoided initiating anything. 

What the hell are his preferences now? He's got the body of a young adult; his body will realise that there are potential options soon enough.

Does he like older people or folk his biological age? Did he prefer girls over guys? How does that even work? It's not like the quacks introduced them to the Pandoran birds and bees - those were the yellow flies, weren't they?

He should probably figure his body out before then. He hasn't even thought about feeling himself or seeing what his parts look like. He knows what an avatar pussy looks like, and he'll never figure out what led up to that. 

Quaritch should ask Lyle. He knew the sniper would've tried shooting at a bullseye or something. For whatever reason, that feels like a terrible idea. 

Not that Lyle wouldn't know; he's an expert at the bedroom tango. It isn't because Lyle's his closest friend, either. 

It confuses him if he lets himself think about it. There's something different about talking to Lyle than the others.

Even when he was talking with his sister, something was missing. It was Quaritch's fault, of course, Little Bug was fantastic, and he was so proud of her.

Something was wrong with him. It always is. 

Why Lyle is insistent on being there, even when Quaritch sounds and looks like a hideous blubbering mess, will never make sense.

He was always there, sometimes before Quaritch knew he needed the bald bastard. Is it because they're Recombinants? It can't be that. He didn't have that connection with the others, not even Mansk. 

It vaguely reminded him of Topaz.

Socorro's strangeness always intrigued him, even though he never understood what she talked about or why she wanted to stick around. He ruined everything he touched, and although he warned her of such, she stayed. 

Lyle stayed, too. He won't leave, even when he should. 

A selfish part of him doesn't want Lyle to leave, either. 

"You're troubled," Grandma Spooks mused, her long fingers curling around a braided rope made from seaweed. "I hear it in your song, child. Such a clashing symphony." 

The sea people are obsessed with songs. 

"Grandmother, the sands feel quiet."

"Yes, child, I know," Nirveli said softly, comforting the protege and future Kallan Tsahik. "Through here, the distractions of beyond will lessen, and you can focus on The Daughter's guidance. It will be a good lesson for you as well, child." 

It's getting easier to understand na'vi compared to speaking it. 

Did his accent give Quaritch a speech impediment?

When the elder pulled at the rope thing, a net-like door opened, revealing a dark, eerie stairway downwards. It looked creepy. It's as though an evil monster was waiting down there to eat them and ass first. 

He's too focused on that today. 

There better not be a fucking clown or something down there. He's only seen pictures, but they freak him out. It wasn't until eleven that they didn't make Nathan cry. 

"You are afraid?" Karagatan questioned, perplexed. Thankfully, it didn't feel condescending.

"Humans have a lot of stories and, well, beliefs in creepy dark places like that. Doesn't matter the culture, or uh,m clan - we all agree that a dark staircase is ultra bad." 

"Sky People have stories?" Aukai inquired, fascinated.

"Humans and Na'vi aren't all that different when you strip away the surface stuff. Break bark off any tree, and it's wood all the same." 

Another bit of wisdom from Nathaniel, which he's not plagiarising or anything, merely "forgetting" who said it first. 

At least it earned some brownie points with Karagatan.

She's an aloof and cold woman, but he could respect her. She's a leader, and he understood that she would use his tail as floss if he pissed her off. 

That created a vivid and confusing image. Fuck, he did have the brain of a twenty-year-old. 

"You say the funniest of things," Nirveli mused as she took a step down. "Fear not, child of the sky. The only thing to fear down here is ourselves."

"Saying shit like that is incredibly ominous and slightly horrifying. It feels like you'll eat me down there in some spooky dungeon. Fava beans with a nice chianti style." 

"I see why she likes him. He's a funny one," Nirveli grinned. She motioned for her grandson to stick by her side, slowly disappearing into the depths. 

At least he's funny to someone. 

"One of these days, Miles, I will unravel the mystery that is your culture," Karagatan stated, visibly entertained by him. "We've learned much from you and your compatriots. It will benefit the rest of the sea people."

"We're dumb jarheads. You're better off talking to my sister. She's smarter than all of us put together and then some."

"I shall like to meet your sister. Is she also "Recom"?"

"Nah, fully human. You'll like her. You have the same energy."

"And what energy is that?"

"Fuck around and find out the hard way."

"Hmm. I approve of your sister."

"I approve of your cool tattoos."

"After the rebirth among the sea people, you may earn some yourself. I can think of several patterns that will suit you." 

That'll be super cool. 

Karagatan waved her hand to the darkness. Interestingly, the Kallan people don't point; it's considered aggressive. A myriad of intricate and little things mean a lot to them. Did other clans feel similarly? It's something to watch out for. 

Culture is such a vast and diverse thing. He pondered the differences between humans as he awkwardly descended the ancient, worn stone stairs carved by someone long ago. 

There were a lot of little things in New Louisiana. In the 2120s, there was a brief resurgence of music and stuff from the old times before the Earth was irreparably fucked. There was a Mardi Gras with Jazz everywhere, and Cajun food abounds. 

It was the last time he, Nathaniel, Eleanor and Scarlett enjoyed something as a family together. His Little Bug loved it. 

He only wished their mama could've enjoyed it as well. 

Quaritch recalled a day when Zdinarsk and Socorro were discussing something. She talked about Bobotează, the Romanian holiday, and how unmarried women will dream of their future spouse. 

Hell's Gate quickly became a melting pot of cultures. It was a rule to leave people to their religions; be accepting and inclusive. Bickering over some futile shit like that only puts others in danger. 

For Romanians, for example, everybody got involved in Martisor, making small jewel-like ornaments tied with a red and white string with hanging tassels. It was something about representing life and death. 

He was invited to partake in a Greek tradition called the Krevati, decorating the soon-to-be-married couples' beds to inspire fertility and prosperity. 

El Carnaval de la Vega was a good boost for morale. The Dominicans at Hell's Gate arranged it secretly as a surprise and to lift their spirits. 

For his Malagasy soldiers, their funerals couldn't be on a Thursday. While Quaritch didn't understand Famadihana, the unburying of your family every seven years and rewrapping them, it wasn't his place to tell them not to - his only concern was that it'd attract Viperwolves and Stingbats. 

There are a lot of curious funeral traditions in the human mass of cultures. 

With how different everyone from Earth was, the Na'vi are no different. He's curious about their differences and compares them to what he's already experienced for better understanding. 

If you keep your head in your ass, you won't see past your bullshit, and you'll be a useless leader. 

Do the Kallan people bless their dead like the Aymara Bolivians? Juliette introduced them to Fiesta de las Ñatitas. That was a blast and a half. 

There's so much to investigate and learn. Although Quaritch's far from intelligent, he can follow the basics. 

"There is much on your mind," Karagatan said, startling him. "Your tail dances like seaweed in a storm." 

"I want to know as much as possible for the sake of my team and son. It'd be easier if we didn't have a spy in our ranks." 

"You're confident that there is a spy."

"I know Ardmore's type. They're dictators ruling with an iron fist, but they don't realise that without care, that fist will rust, and everything will fall apart. She has a spy to ensure we're doing what she wants."

"You're not burning villages. Quite the opposite."

"As far as she understands, we're making nice with a clan, so they'll give up Sully since his presence is causing the massacres. It saves time and recourses. That's her thought process, at least. The only problem is that when she does discover we're on your side, she'll kill any blue in her way." 

"There are no sides."

Something about that statement felt like a test. 

"There is. There's survival, and there's utter extinction. She won't stop until all of us are dead. There's always a side; people who think they can be neutral are bystanders who allow atrocities until it affects." 

"Spoken like a true Olo'eyktan. You'll fit well with the sea." 

The praise felt unwarranted, but he appreciated it. He hadn't done anything to earn it. 

No matter what, Quaritch will fight. It's what he does best. He'll keep fighting so that his son doesn't have to live how Quaritch did; his son will be free and enjoy life, safe from strife and misery. He wants that for all children, even Sully's spawn. 

Quaritch's spite for Sully shouldn't transfer to his innocent children; their only crime is sharing blood with an asshole. That's the excuse they used to neglect and abuse his son. 

The pitch black began to fade, brightening. There are cracks in the walls that have a faint glow. It grows in intensity as he descends. 

It's not moss or fungus. There's an eerie pulse to the glow as though it was alive. The silly dust tingled on his skin, starting to shine with an explosion of colours. 

His spots are shining brighter than he's ever seen. The same was for Grandma Spooks, Aukai and Karagatan. 

It must be a reaction to the stuff inside the walls. 

The stairs ended. He could smell and hear water running from somewhere. There's an eerie hum, almost like the vibrations in a ship; you can't exactly understand it, but you can feel it rumbling through your bones and bouncing in your lungs. 

The air is cold, but somehow, the freaky dust stuff is keeping him warm. His breath is visible, the vapours shining like the northern lights. 

There's a peculiar minty smell, too. 

He can feel something soft under his feet but can't tell what it is. Is it moss? There's a little shine with each step, so it must be. 

What's most fascinating is the pool of water with glowing plants, coral and fish. In the middle is a sharp scale-shaped stone or possibly bone, easily the size of Quaritch, if not more significant. There are carvings on the object, something he had yet to see amongst the Na'vi - he was under the impression that there wasn't a written language. 

It's beautiful. 

Quaritch felt something around his neck and on his chest, a foreign heat. His hand wandered to the necklace, notably the stone that opened the door to the sea folk. The gift that kept giving. 

"What is it?" he asked, baffled by the connection. 

"A gift from long ago," Aukai stated, slowly entering the pool.

"From the Kuäma, I'm guessing," Quaritch said, looking to Karagatan for validation. 

"During the time of the first songs, the Kallan were in plight. We once lived west, far from here, and we lost our home to a plague of falling flames - the ash people had come for our souls; they wished to feed us to The Son. My ancestor fought back and saved our people, including a Kuäma, one of the ash people's favoured prizes," Karagatan began, placing her calloused hand on his back. 

"Because Kovu saved a guardian of The Daughter with a just soul, we were given a new home and this scale of The Daughter herself. It is our symbol of rebirth and how we commune with her," Grandma Spooks finished, a sly smile on her face as he gripped the "stone" tighter. "She is as real as you and I, child of the sky. The Kuäma follow her will, and she decided to gift you a part of her; she is with you, young one." 

Oh fuck.

Oh shit!

Somehow it's more distressing that there is a physical piece of these beings. If Ngaknay had scales, it meant that she had a body somewhere.

Her scale was monstrous; how big was she!? She's a kaiju chimaera, a cosmic horror, some Lovecraftian-level stuff!

Pandora's Cthulu!

"Follow as we do," Karagatan guided, stepping into the pool. 

The fish were undisturbed, not bothered by their presence. The humming felt stronger, pounding inside Quaritch's chest. It was terrifying. 

He had a piece of a titan around his neck, gifted by a space mermaid - he had a space dragon, and Quaritch looked like a space elf. What was next, a Leprechaun?

He's already down here; he might as well see it through. 

Understandably hesitant, the Recom slowly followed after the trio, sinking into the warm water. Ripples licked at his stomach. 

"Bring your Kuru to the scale," Nirveli said, holding out her wrinkled hand to him. "Listen to her."

Quaritch watched Aukai and Nirveli bring their queues to the scale, their eyes closing in peace and ears perked, alert. 

Augustine called it a planetary neural network that the Na'vi can access - he'll find out for himself. Either she's right, or it's far more than that; it's probably the latter. 

Will it be like Cupcake and Sushi? Feeling and experiencing the entirety of another soul, intertwining minds together. How does that work with something as big as Ngaknay? And it's not even her but a mere shed scale. 

Does Eywa have a body? 

The Recom brought his "Kuru" towards the gift, uncertain how he could connect to it. Unlike Cupcake, there isn't another queue to join. 

Karagatan hummed softly beside him, attaching her Kuru directly onto the scale. The pink bits unfurled and spread out, glowing as the link was forged. 

With a demonstration, Quaritch followed, awkwardly bringing his brain tail to the discarded body part. 

He's snatched away from the cave and pulled through a vortex of colours and sensations. He could feel himself detach from his body, off somewhere else. 

The colours burst like a bubble, creating the outside. How could he be outside after getting in that deep pool?

A noise alerts him, causing the Colonel to turn around, searching for the sound. 

It's Lyle with Spider. They're in the water close to the beach, trying to get an Ilu to stop splashing them. Is this what's happening? Is it some freaky hallucination? He couldn't tell. From the smells to the sensation of sand between his toes, even the hot sun on his back. Everything felt so real. 

Quaritch doesn't get it. What was all of this supposed to mean?

His best friend and son paused, turning to him like doppelganger robots. They were shaking, but it wasn't in the way a body should be capable. It's like they're vibrating despite everything else remaining still. The Ilu cried, scared of something and swam away, hollering to any that could hear it. 

The wind blew past him, rolling grains of sand behind him. Even with his enhanced hearing, Quaritch shouldn't be able to hear the shifting movement, not the shimmer of water. There's a coldness in the wind, a whistle that bit into his ears as though it had needle-like teeth. 

The last thing Quaritch saw in this bizarre weirdness was the tide pulling back dangerously fast. 

He felt his eyes open, ears pinned back, taking a breath he didn't know he was holding. 

A hand gently touched his chest, feeling his racing and panicked heart. 

"What did you see? What did the songs tell?" Grandma Nirveli asked, her long nails pressing on his submerged chest. 

"My friend and son; they were shaking. I dunno - the wind was loud, the sand was loud, and the water was receding so fast -"

"Go!" Karagatan interrupted, her tail hitting the was as Aukai began scampering away. 

"Wait, what's that mean?" the Recom questioned, confused and startled by the sudden yelling.

"A wave is coming," Nirveli answered, pulling the disorientated Recom to his feet with surprising strength. "Your world shook, and the tide was taken - we must make haste with the time The Daughter has allowed us!"

But the ground wasn't shaking in that freaky experience. 

He knew what a receding tide meant, however. 

Running up a narrow staircase in almost pitch black should be hard. However, his new body was something of an athlete, practically flying up the stairs, and worry raced through his entire being. 

His son lived his entire life in the jungle; it's doubtful that Spider understood how dangerous the water was. 

The sunlight temporarily blinded Quaritch, but that didn't stop him from seeking his child. 

"To the high ground! Make haste!" yelled the Olo'eyktan, encouraging the villagers to flee. 

On the island, the highest point was a tree that seemed almost fossilised. Hopefully, it would hold. He suspected that if Ngaknay gave a warning about a wave, then it would be terrible. 

Quaritch called for his son, anxiety building. He wouldn't go anywhere without his baby. 

Cupcake flew to him, squawking loudly. She lowered herself, letting him jump onto her back. The mighty Ikran took off, surveying the area for Spider. 

"Cyrnol!" Prager yelled, flying next to Quaritch on Gwyllgi. "The Kid is with Lopez, sir!"

Thank fuck. Even though Lopez is a lunatic at best, his boy is safe. 

He wouldn't be able to cope with losing his son. 

"Good. Start picking up folk and bring them to the tree. Move fast, soldier!"

"Yes, sir!"

His team's doing their best, flying down and picking up as many people as quickly as possible. They're working hard, both his squad and their Ikran partners. 

He could feel Cupcake's concern as she delved through his understanding of the situation; her kin remained in the mountains, seldom going to the sea. They had heard stories from those that migrated or travelled, but she didn't understand the severity. 

Quaritch has seen it. He lost his state to it. 

Monroe, his mother's home, was deep underwater in what's now The Glades - Lyle and Mansk lost their home, too. The whole deep south is underwater, thanks to flooding and tsunamis. 

He could see it coming. It was racing, tumbling at frightening speeds. He estimated they had three minutes and probably less than that. 

He can see it, time almost pausing as he counted the people too far from the tree. There will be casualties. 

Cupcake hissed, her gaze fixated on something. 

Quaritch spotted one of the newbies, Arondóttir; she was helping a mother and her baby run. He's obligated to save his teammates; it's the duty of the team leader. 

The Colonel flew down, gliding above the sand. 

Impressively, Arondóttir lifted the mother, almost throwing her to Quaritch. She cried, scared, and Cupcake had to lean for him to catch her. Another runner passed their child to Arondóttir so she could pass them to Quaritch as well. 

Ardmore's spy would be someone who didn't care for the na'vi and wouldn't risk their lives for them. That's all he needed.

"Come on!" he shouted, his Ikran partner shrieking in agreement. 

"Get them to safety!" she barked back, tossing a toddler to him next. 

Cupcake grunted, warning that she could only have one other person. She implored Quaritch to take Arondóttir; she proved an honourable warrior and should be kept to help more people. 

This woman isn't dying today. He's already lost too many of his team; she's not joining them. 

Understanding, Cupcake lifted, using her claws to grab Arondóttir. Even when she was being taken into the air, she still managed to grab another child, saving them from the impending doom. 

The Ikran groaned, struggling to keep aloft. 

They only had fifteen seconds before the wave arrived, crashing like the gnashing maws of a starved, rabid creature. The people cried in terror, though it was drowned out by the rumbling thunder that was the tsunami. The people he and his team couldn't reach were washed away, engulfed and swallowed. 

Water is as much death as it is life. With enough pressure, water can cut through a diamond. It's the sharpest, most powerful and scariest substance in the universe; radiation hasn't got shit on water. 

He could feel Cupcake's struggle, the burning in her wings to keep them in the air, free from the thrashing rage below them. The little boy Arondóttir saved screamed behind him, terrified, clinging to his back for dear life. 

Despite his encouragement, knowing that Cupcake was the top bitch in the sky, gravity wasn't their friend. He could feel them sinking, regardless of Cupcake's best efforts. 

The toddler girl hid her face in his stomach, sobbing. 

"Sóley."

Quaritch's ears pinned back, looking to the woman behind him. Her tone almost stopped his heart, a fierce determination in her eyes that only a parent could understand. 

Before he could protest, she shoved her baby into his arms. 

"What we do for our children," the mother said, tears in her eyes as she dropped herself off Cupcake's back. 

Cupcake shrieked, horrified as she fell into the surge beneath them. The loss of weight, however, kept them from sinking further. It eased Cupcake enough to make it to the big stone tree, her lungs scorching from stress. 

She dropped Arondóttir and the kid before landing, panting heavily. She croaked with grief, understanding and distress. 

He slid from her back, helping the two kids. The villagers raced to them, taking the three children. He couldn't loosen his arms, though. 

Quaritch didn't even know her name, and she entrusted her baby to him. 

Sóley must be their name. He looked at the babe, finding that it was a little girl. 

"I'm sorry, sir," Arondóttir panted, blood running down her bicep from where Cupcake grabbed her. "I tried catching the mom. I failed. I'm sorry." 

He would've done the same for the sake of his son's life. He completely understood her decision. That made it worse. 

The logical side of his brain knew that someone had to go for all of them to survive. If she hadn't, he might've. 

What they do for their children. 

"I'm sorry too," Quaritch admitted, his ears still pinned. "You did good work out there. Nearly got yourself killed, though."

"I died for nothing before. At least this time, it would've been for something worthwhile," she stated, which was respectable. "I'll hold her for the moment. I think the Tsahik's coming," Arondóttir continued, gently taking the infant from his arms. "What's your name, little sweetie?" she inquired, sadness splashing across her sharp features. 

The baby was unaware of what happened; her little blue eyes were fixated on Arondóttir's curly hair. 

Like his Little Bug and son, she wouldn't know her mother as she should've. 

"Sóley," Quaritch answered, his tail slowly bobbing behind him. "Her mother said it before sacrificing herself. Her name is Sóley."

"It's a beautiful name," Arondóttir smiled, though it was bittersweet. "I'll keep you warm until we find your family, little Sóley."

As Arondóttir said, the Tsahik was coming with her mate close behind her. 

Tsahik Karagatan patted Cupcake's neck with gratitude, softly thanking her for her duty. The Ikran trilled, though there was still regret in her golden eyes. 

Olo'eyktan Kaiyō did the greeting - Quaritch couldn't pronounce it but could still do the hand movement. 

"I'm sorry that we couldn't get more," Quaritch admitted to the leaders, understanding more than he wished. He's lost a lot of people under his leadership too. "Is everyone alright?"

"Nirveli and your healers are helping heal those injured from the escape and the ones your people have taken from the water. So far, only three casualties," Kaiyō stated, grief washing over his tattooed features. "Many more would've perished without your team." 

Though that was technically true, he still felt responsible for the lives they couldn't save. 

"A woman sacrificed her life for her baby. I didn't even get her name."

"Ása," Karagatan named, piquing his interest. "I helped deliver the baby, Sóley, in your companion's arms. I knew her well. She would die for her child, as any of us would." 

They would. That's what it means to be a parent - not like Rafael or Trevor - an actual parent; who'll fight tooth and nail for the safety of their children. 

He'll fist-fight another Thanator for his boy's life. 

"Miles!"

Quaritch's tail stilled, the voice echoing in his chest. 

The Recombinant didn't think, stepping past the leaders and kneeling to catch the little beige Tarzan. He held his son tight, though restrained himself; he could easily snap Spider in three. 

His beautiful boy was alive and safe. Feeling his son's arms wrapped around him was the closest to heaven that Quaritch would ever reach. 

Cupcake leaned over him, pressing her head against Spider's back, trilling with satisfaction at his safety. 

"You're ok," Quaritch stated, his voice trembling. "You're ok." 

"What was that?" his son asked, frightened. 

"A tsunami. It's alright to be scared of it. They're fucking terrifying," he answered, stroking his son's back and Cupcake's face. 

It'll take time for the waters to recede and dissipate. Hopefully, it'll be sooner rather than later. 

"Oh mierda, jefe!" shouted Lopez, running to them, concerned, "You good, Azul Grande?"

He's been better. 

"Could be worse, Corporal," Quaritch admitted, feeling Cupcake raise her head. "Thank you for watching over him."

"Eh, any excuse to watch Changuito," his comrade smirked, visibly shaken by the situation. "Cupcake doing ok? Zelda's pretty freaked."

Cupcake croaked and snapped at the air, expressing her distress, grief and defiance. Although scared of the tsunami, she wouldn't let it overcome her. 

His son let go. If he could, Quaritch never would've let go. 

What they do for their children. 

The Colonel's ears perked at Prager, Mansk and Lyle joining them. The first two looked distraught from the whole event; for Mansk, it must've triggered his PTSD after enduring Texas going under. 

His best friend looked worried but for a different reason.

Quaritch couldn't place what it was. Whatever it was, it felt akin to the mysterious confusing swirl in his heart at seeing Lyle ok. 

Lyle pulled the Colonel up, almost hugging him. His grip was tight on Quaritch's biceps, shaking with concern and frustration. 

He patted the Lieutenant's chest, feeling his thunderous heartbeat that threatened to jailbreak from his ribcage. 

When his friend let go, something in him missed the touch. It's almost like his muscles became memory foam, leaving a dent where Lyle's hands would fit perfectly. 

"What'll happen now?" Spider asked, looking up at the two. 

"We will rebuild," the Olo'eyktan answered, a knowing look in his blue eyes. He's almost tempted to ask what that was. "We've endured many storms since our landing on this island. We will rebuild, regroup, and remember those fallen. I fear for the village west of us; they wouldn't have gotten the same early warning." 

"We will provide aid. Though we seldom get along with the Metkayina, we share a common plight. It'll do you good to meet their Tsahik and Olo'eyktan, Ronal and Tonowari - they'll be interested in our endeavour against the Kxeìnge." 

At the mention of Tonowari, Kaiyō strangely pulled his mate to the side, whispering something. He looked worried about something, but Karagatan dismissed it, looking proud and confident. He merely nodded his head, heeding whatever she was telling him. 

This Tonowari guy must be a big deal. 

"You can stay at our island for the moment," Quaritch offered, earning the leaders' attention. "You'll need to stay somewhere to recover. It's not fantastic, but it's sizeable enough for a camp. We'll do what we can to assist." 

"The hell will we say to Ardmore?" Prager questioned, on Quaritch's side but reasonably anxious. 

"That we're luring the natives into a false sense of security, that they'll have no choice but to owe us and give us what we want," he stated coldly. He didn't like how his son cringed at hearing that. "The more manipulative it sounds, the more likely she'll believe it."

"I do not like this "Ardmore"," Kaiyō stated, flaring his nostrils at her name. 

"Join the club, jefe del tatuaje," Lopez huffed, annoyed as well. 

"Thank you, Miles," Karagatan smiled, pleased with him. "If you didn't have our trust before, you do now. You and your team have proven to be of the sea. We welcome you as brothers and sisters."

Despite everything that's happened today, it felt good to hear that. 

Chapter Text

Terror Waves are rare, especially in the eastern seas. 

Awa'atlu has only experienced three of these horrid tides since its founding.

They were already rare, but Ronal could feel it in the sands and the hush in the waves; this was no force of nature, of Eywa nor the Daughter. Not even the Demon. 

She feared that it was more strife wrought by the sky people. 

Admittedly, Ronal had never seen one before. From the descriptions the Ta'anui gave, they are tiny creatures significantly more fragile than Na'vi. Despite this weakness, they have offended nature and twisted the metal within the ground to become monstrosities.

She knew that Payämawa and Teyivayva were salivating to use sky weapons. They and their wretched spawn, Laniakea, are better beneath The Daughter's embrace than within it. If it were up to her, the Kxeìnge would fall to a plague brought by their hubris and pride. 

May they fall deep and dark to the trenches where no Na'vi or Tulkun dare travel. 

"It is early," her mate said, his large hand resting upon her shoulder. "We will assist Kimaru in due time."

"They need us now," Ronal argued, frustrated by her condition. Her growing belly weighs heavy, and the babe is becoming more active. "Time is not a luxury we possess."

"It seems not," Tonowari agreed, gently feeling her stomach. "Have you considered a name as of yet?"

She tried not to. 

Sometime after Tsireya, they were blessed with another, but they would never see the sun nor feel the sea. The sea gives, and the sea takes. 

As Tsahik, she of all Na'vi should understand, but her hold over a life that never was wouldn't flee - it remained like a fish in a net, writhing but trapped tight. What Ronal would've given to be set free of this loss, the son she never got to know. 

Occasionally, not knowing brings comfort, and then other times, it is torture none deserve. 

"I do not wish to discuss it."

"Whatever the course this current takes us, I'll ride alongside you - be it from south to north, west to east, and depths to shallows." 

Her other half brought his arm behind her back, lightly encouraging her closer to him. He pressed his forehead against hers, an intimate gesture and a homage to when they first met - she headbutted him and broke his nose. 

They didn't meet under the best of circumstances, admittedly. Their clans were at war, which wasn't unusual, thanks to her so-called "family".

Despite being the daughter of a sworn enemy, and having headbutted her son, Olo'eyktan Lutfiyya, her future mate's mother, offered her hand to Ronal. She regretted never getting to know Lutfiyya as well as she wished, for she would pass not long after to Payämawa's spear. 

Although he had every right to blame Ronal for Payämawa's actions, he didn't. She learned quickly that Tonowari had a clear soul and strong heart; he was as powerful as a storm but soft as a breeze. He is as warm as the sun-baked sands and as enduring as the mountains. 

How one can have the soothing rain and thrashing waves at once in a single pair of eyes, she still couldn't fathom. 

Only absolute kindness and love can find beauty in the damaged and broken. Of all those he could've asked to be by his side, it shouldn't have been her. 

The deserter daughter of the exiled clan that had never felt Ngaknay or Eywa's embrace was nothing to a newly christened Olo'eyktan, one that felt The Daughter with but a breath. She hadn't ridden an Ilu or Tsurak unmarred by forced enslavement before the Metkayina. 

As much as Ronal thanked Eywa for accepting her and liberating her spirit, Lutfiyya saved her body, and Tonowari safeguarded her heart. 

If not for The Daughter's surprise rain storm, Ronal wouldn't have been able to slip away and escape. She fled horror and found a clan where she belonged - the Metkayina, her family, were her home. 

"From ground to skies and beyond, my other half." 

He made her feel safe. Even on the worst days, Tonowari was there, an unforgiving barrier that no tide could move. 

What did Ronal do to earn the gaze of a man like him?

"We will help Kimaru's village, my half, but not this early. Though I have duties as Olo'eyktan, I have more as a mate. I yearn for your peace and comfort."

"As I yearn for yours. But our duty as mates is second to our leadership. Though I appreciate your caution, we must go."

She could feel her babe shift within. They were becoming more active, but Ronal struggled to feel joy over it. She feared constantly that, like their son, they would never experience this little life. 

Though Ronal couldn't muster the strength to feel the excitement, she loved how her mate's ears perked upwards after feeling the movement. 

"I look forward to greeting you, little tempest," Tonowari smiled, his fingers tracing the tattoos on Ronal's stomach.

She wished that she could share this joy. While the trepidation was potent, she was happy that her mate was enjoying this moment. She only hoped that she wouldn't ruin it. 

"We should bring Rotxo with us. Kimaru may have heard of Kanan's whereabouts," Ronal suggested, saddened by her mate's grimace. 

Kanan had been missing for almost three months.

Kanan was a close friend of her mate since childhood, and his disappearance hurt her other half. It was tough enough for young Rotxo after his mother passed to a fever, but to lose Kanan as well? It left the boy stranded, waiting for his father to return.

The mysterious increase in Akula and Txänok activity did not help. There was even the recent sighting of an Aosrekxitx, the Toruk of the sea - they patrolled the northern oceans, so for one to be so far east was bizarre. It felt connected to the Terror Wave and Quake. 

Ngaknay is not behind these mysteries. Given the mystic and demonic power of the sky people, they might be responsible. 

With each passing day, it became more likely that Kanan was either lost to the increased predators or the bold Kxeìnge. 

Her mate seemed to share the concern. 

"Until we can confirm Kanan's fate, I think Rotxo should remain with us," he agreed. "Fortunately, Rotxo provides a better influence on Ao'nung than Varuna, Tahnee and Makonza - the Suli children have also improved his behaviour."

"Besides almost getting Lo'ak killed and allowing him to bond to the outcast."

"Other than that, yes. As Toruk Makto put it, it pulled his head from his ass." 

"I do not understand Sky People's euphemisms."

"It's odd but somewhat humorous." 

"You are but a child at heart."

"It is one of the qualities you love most about me."

"Indeed." 

Speaking of the Suli children, Ronal had some concerns. 

Neteyam seemed isolated, following in his parents' shadow and not communing with others his age. He acted like a Na'vi grown despite his youth. If he is not being "useful", he would appear lost. His mismatched eyes and lack of fangs disturbed many of the clan.

Perhaps the others his age refuse to engage with Neteyam due to his strangeness, despite appearing the most Na'vi out of the children. 

Kiri was strange. She had a peculiar connection to Ewya's creatures, even able to make the Wu'iey squids dance at her command. It was intriguing that Tsyeyk and Neytiri refrained from discussing her origin; where did they find Kiri? How does she have demon blood?

At least with the other three, they inherited it from Toruk Makto. 

Lo'ak was the disappointment of his parents. His song was not in tune with the rest of the family. Despite his demon blood and his strangeness, he was a good boy and already showed his loyal nature. He refused to abandon the outcast. Although they disagreed, the Tsahik and Olo'eyktan could respect his unwavering devotion to his kin. 

Would Ronal be able to leave Roa or Tonowari with Ekangaki? It's a question she hasn't been able to answer. 

The final child, Tuktirey, adapted the best to the Metkayina way of life. The only sign of her mixed blood was an extra finger on her left hand. The young girl was more likely to be with Neteyam than Toruk Makto; it perplexed Ronal. 

Something was wrong in the Suli family, but they were unwilling to discuss it. 

"I will gather some riders. I only ask that you go slow, my half," her mate requested, "Eywa forbid it, but if they appear, I ask that you flee. I do not doubt your prowess; I only fear our surprise will restrict your combat ability." 

An understandable concern. She was far faster before her pregnancy. 

Ronal was a frightening fighter with a spear, but she couldn't manoeuvre one while so inflated. 

"I heed your worry."

"Thank you."

As her mate gathered some of the clan, Ronal took notice of Toruk Makto's intrigue. He is getting better at riding a Tsurak but is an amateur at best. Many aren't thrilled about Toruk Makto's presence; Kimaru was furious with Tonowari's decision to let him join them.

He should remain at Awa'atlu. His children cannot provide any assistance, nor can Neytiri. They need healers and those who understand Ngaknay's way; they've yet to acknowledge her. 

There is time for the children to understand that Eywa's reach is weaker in the sea. 

Ronal was mildly annoyed by the early activity, trying to get information from hurrying hunters. They would provide food, healing and the power to rebuild. The Metkayina never fall; they only strengthen. 

"I see you, Ronal," Toruk Makto greeted, his ears flicking at the sound of an eager Tsurak. She did not feel seen. "What's happening?"

One of these mornings, Esso will keep his Tsurak from hollering. 

"A calamity befell a nearby village. We're providing aide."

"I should go with you."

"No. You have nothing to give. You'll remain here."

"The Sky People are out there!" he exclaimed, distressed. "You've done a lot for my family. I have to pay that back."

"Then return the favour by not announcing that we harbour you," she growled back, making her displeasure known. "The village we are helping does not approve of your presence. It will only spark frustration, and they are hurt enough, as are many others."

Though Ronal understood the need to protect your family, how could Toruk Makto willingly risk other families? She can almost taste it, the guilt and regret perspiring off the demon-blooded warrior. Though he was a great ally to the people, he would always be of the sky. 

The past doesn't define you, but it plays a significant part. She will always be from the Kxeìnge, but her entirety belonged to the Metkayina, her family and Eywa's daughter, Ngaknay. 

Ngaknay was the one that provided Ronal with the opportunity to flee. She would always be in the being's debt, as much as in Lutfiyya and Tonowari's. 

What had Toruk Makto done for her people besides bringing the sky people closer to her home and family? It frustrated her. 

"I don't know how they figured out that I'm in the sea," Toruk Makto admitted, which perplexed Ronal. 

"You explained the long-distance speaker with the Dreamwalker that brought the metal bird. There was a small creation that "tracked" it. What is to stop the other sky people from doing the same?"

That fact dawned on Toruk Makto's heart, drowning it as it filled with heavy stones. He had alerted the sky people where to look, entrusting strange metal and lights to heal Kiri over an experienced Tsahik. Did Toruk Makto have so little faith in Eywa? 

The Ta'anui suffered the loss of their homes because of that lack of faith. Many others, too. 

If the law weren't so rigid, she would've exiled Toruk Makto. His children could stay, but Tsyeyk would have to leave. He brought only death and suffering wherever he went.

Rot festered behind each step. 

"I'm so sorry," he said, remorse crackling in his throat like brittle bones. "I never even considered it."

"That is a running reoccurrence. You do not think, Toruk Makto; it is a dangerous quality. There will be a consequence to every action taken, no matter how just the reason. As a former Olo'eyktan, I expected you to know that." 

The emphasis on the 'former' brought a grimace to his features. 

He brought the sky people to the eastern sea, which may explain the predator disturbance. It put their Tulkun kin at risk; word spread that the Tulkun were being hunted in the south and west. 

Was her spirit sister safe? Was little Toan? 

Debating whether it was the right choice to allow Toruk Makto to stay would always weigh on her. She knew that it was even heavier on her mate. 

"Stay here, Tsyeyk. Raise your family. Learn to breathe and fish; be useful." 

She should request that Tonowari be the primary communicator with Tsyeyk. His short-sightedness annoyed Ronal. 

She understood admittedly little about sky people, but Tsyeyk is of them; how did she figure it out when he didn't? It should've been clear to him and his Dreamwalker compatriot. 

With a call, a Tsurak swam beneath the walkway, waiting for her. She didn't look back to Toruk Makto, focusing on the more important matter. 

The ride to Kimaru's village was always a long and cold one. Even with her mate and children, it felt chillier than the waters she called home. 

Her son and daughter have yet to pass their Iknimaya; they can't ride a Tsurak until then. In due time, they will be as experienced as their parents. 

Ao'nung would be tested soon. It was a dangerous trial, but her son was as stubborn as her; he would make them proud. She expected the same of Tsireya. 

Though the Suli children passed the Iknimaya of the jungles, it meant nothing to the ocean. They would have to pass if they wished to ride a Tsurak Out of the children, Ronal believed that Lo'ak and Tuktirey would do the best. 

While Neteyam was the eldest, he was slower at adapting when compared to his siblings. The other older sibling, Kiri, was still forbidden from connecting to the Cove of Ancestors, so it's debatable if she could ever complete the trials. 

They all faired better than their mother, however. While Toruk Makto at least made an effort to assimilate, she refused. 

It will take longer for them, but they might prove as adaptable as their father claimed. 

Ronal would rather be further at the front of the shole, but even her Tsurak had concerns over her enlarged abdomen. She had her daughter and soon-to-be ward by her side; their closeness brought a little comfort to her, though it evaporated as Kimaru's village came into view. 

The Terror Wave lived up to its name, decimating the village. The damage was grave, and she saw bodies carefully laid on the beach covered with tree leaves. They will rest with their ancestors. 

Most peculiar, however, was the Kallan being there. The Metkayina and Kallan have always been at odds, but today, they've decided to help. 

Times were growing ever dire. 

A roar erupted from the skies, alerting them to a soaring Ikran. For a brief moment, Ronal grew angry, believing Tsyeyk, Neytiri, or their children followed them. However, the Ikran did not have the colours of the Suli family's mounts. 

Unlike the Omaticaya Ikran, this one had a strange green saddle with many pouches stitched into the neck. It was dark, almost black, with trimmings resembling burning flames; the size of the chin crest indicated that it was a female. 

The aerial beast landed on the shores, her rider hopping off. He wore no garments that Ronal recognised. Though the rider looked like Omaticaya, he was different. A black stone-like creation covered his eyes. 

"Can you see his arms? They're like trees," she heard Rotxo comment, and the boy spoke true. 

Whoever that one was, he did not belong to the Kallan nor any of the sea clans. He wasn't of the jungle, either. 

Tonowari stepped upon the beach, greeted by a relieved and stressed Kimaru. They gripped forearms, elaborating on the situation as Ronal dismounted. She kept an eye on the Ikran, noticing an oddity about it. Unlike the Suli mounts, she followed Ronal's gaze, paying close attention.

It gave Ronal better access to the rider, seeing him up close. His arms are thick and powerful with muscle, more than Ronal had seen on a Na'vi. His five fingers gave away that he was not a Na'vi at all. 

The stranger looked towards her, patting the Ikran's neck, whispering something in his sky people tongue. The Ikran hissed, placing a wing over her rider protectively. 

How did a mere Dreamwalker earn the respect of an Ikran? Although Ronal hadn't met many, she hadn't seen that behaviour in the Suli flock. Not even Tsyeyk's mount would nudge his snout into his rider's chest for reassurance. 

"Hello," he tried, his accent thick. "I am Mansk. I see you."

It's awkward and choppy, but the effort was made from "Mansk". He patted his mount's neck, scratching under her jaw. 

Ronal wanted to dismiss the Dreamwalker, but the bond with the Ikran confused her. Why would a sky person even bother with such a sacred communion?

"That one is named Firefly," Kimaru said, his ears flinching at her hiss. "She's overly protective of her rider. Mansk, the Ikran Makto, is much nicer. He's been making food for the injured; he's just returned from a fishing trip," he explained, motioning for Mansk to come closer. "Mansk, this is Olo'eyktan Tonowari, and this is Tsahik Ronal, and these are their children, Ao'nung and Tsireya - By the All-Mother, is that you, little Rotxo?"

The boy smiled, his nose wrinkling as Kimaru ruffled his hair. 

The Ikran named Firefly remained behind her rider, paying close attention. Strangely, they were still attached at the Kuru. Why hasn't he broken the Tsaheylu?

Ao'nung was staring at Mansk's thick arms; they were like a Tsurak's body. His nose was large, but his ears were puny; they looked cut. 

He had a tattoo, and it intrigued Ronal; what was the symbol on his neck and chest for?

"What's on your face?" Ao'nung snarked. While he sounded antagonistic, Ronal knew her son better; he was intimidated by the stranger and was trying to hide it. 

"Sunglasses," Mansk said, removing them from his face. He blinked, visibly pained by the light hitting his eyes. "Eyes are sensitive. They shield from the sun's light." 

Trying to show good faith, Mansk offered them to her mate. It was comical how confused her mate looked, inspecting the garment. How could you see through such shiny glass?

Tsireya offered to try them, fascinated by Mansk and his strangeness. She put on the "sunglasses", giggling as she looked around. 

"It does!" she exclaimed, giddy. "No light reflects off the sea or sand!"

After his sister tried them, Ao'nung had a go, amused by them. Though more cautious, Rotxo had a turn, a long-since missed grin growing across his features. 

A useful device. Something that hides your eyes but also eliminates the shine of light. Did they have more of these items? Were they willing to trade for them? 

There was potential use for these "sunglasses". 

Another caw netted her attention, the echoing and proud roar of another banshee. Like Mansk, there are a pair of strange Non-Na'vi flying, and their mounts are working together to carry something. The duo lowered, resting the net-covered shapes upon the beach near a bizarre thin marui with a reddened cross. 

"Who are they?" Tonowari asked, anxious regarding the newest individuals. 

Kimaru's ears flinched, the scent of discomfort and concern rising. He was fixated on the taller individual, and they quickly saw why.

A Dreamwalker had a Kuäma necklace around his neck. More disturbingly, it looked to be that of the Kuäman Zao, the ancient and long-forgotten practice above that of Tsahik - the carers of Ngaknay's body itself. They wove threads and jewellery from her broken-off scales, one such item sitting above the stranger's heart. 

For a stranger to have been blessed confused her. Not even the great Lutfiyyah earned their presence. 

Another curious thing was how he and his fellow Makto looked at each other. They kept glancing at each other, mouths slightly open to fully encompass their scent. Their tails danced in almost unison, a flirtatious instinct. Despite the clear signs, however, they appeared oblivious to it. 

They're those kind of fools. 

It's like her daughter and Toruk Makto's son; they're intrigued by each other but have yet to realise it. 

"The bald one is Lyle; he's the second in charge and has assisted in organising our wounded. The other is Miles," Kimaru named, his concern growing as "Miles" noticed the new people. Mansk, so quiet he could be mistaken for stone, waved at the blessed one. "From what Karagatan and Kaiyō told me and the gift upon his neck, The Daughter has decided he is of us." 

Kimaru couldn't approve; she could hear it in his voice. However, Kimaru could not argue with The Daughter's wisdom. 

They need to talk to this "Miles". It's not the strangest name, thankfully. 

Tsyeyk's original name was "Jake", which is irritating to pronounce. The sounds don't exist in their tongue. 

"Ao'nung, you will help in clearing debris with Kimaru. Rotxo, help in providing food. Tsireya, you will assist the wounded. We need to investigate this oddity," her mate commanded, displeased by Ao'nung's reaction. "You desire to lead someday? You must learn to follow."

Though Ao'nung was not to be Olo'eyktan, her son longed to be a lead hunter like Kanan. To lead, you must also follow. Thankfully, their daughter and soon-to-be ward wasn't as combative. 

Ronal walked towards the odd one, her mate protectively standing beside her. The Ikran named Firefly croaked, taking off with Mansk upon her back. Was he getting more food?

A little pink thing jumped from the solid baskets, hair wild like dried seaweed but cut for a warrior. It had a Kuäman armlet, sticking close to "Miles". 

"Hello, I see you," the creature greeted, speaking Na'vi fluently. A second joined it, dumping a flask of fluid upon its head. "Not cool, Delta!"

The pink being with feminine features had tattoos. The style was that of the late Räosu Te Aìflikxey Vuyoetä'ite and her daughter, Sateey. 

Sky people. 

Before Ronal had the chance to hiss, Miles' eyes locked with hers, the fury of a volcano burning in his molten eyes. He had the youth of twenty but the eyes of an elder who saw more years than them. His ears lowered, his tail stilled, warning pheromones leaking into the air. 

It's a parental display. The masculine sky creature is his child. Catching onto her rider's change in mood, his Ikran gave a warning snarl, sharing her protectiveness. 

That behaviour is unusual. 

"You're the boy from the Ta'anui village," Tonowari identified, acknowledging the stranger's warning. She understood for she would do the same for her children. "Why are you here with these Dreamwalkers? And how did that one gain a Kuäman necklace?"

The boy spoke, weaving a tale with precise and intriguing threads. He provided vast information despite summarising, unable to give the minute details for now. What they heard, however, was as incredible as it was horrifying. 

This "Ardmore" sought the demise of all Na'vi, regardless of their participation in the war. She hunts their Tulkun, seeking a fluid in their brains for nothing less than useless greed. They have powers worse than the songs sung from the jungles; how can they kill from far away within a blink? 

Miles was the Olo'eyktan - and Tsakarem - of his strange team of undead and rebelling sky people. They're on the side of the Na'vi; they've chosen life over death. 

What had Roa's attention the most, however, was that the strangers had saved her spirit sister - Lyle and Miles could even hear the Tulkun as clearly as she heard that boy. That isn't possible, not even for the fabled Kuäma. What was so special about them to grant such a gift?

They are the ones that attacked Mälosi and Onosä'i's village. They're the individuals that caused Tsyeyk to flee to the Metkayina for Uturu. With that information alone, she and Tonowari should capture them as prisoners.

However, the situation was complicated. So long as Miles gave her false and misleading information, the sea had time to prepare for her genocide. He and his kin will pay reparation to the Ta'anui, but for now, they are necessary allies. 

While Tsyeyk knew the sky people, that was long ago. The Deja know the now, not the before. 

"Time isn't our friend," stated Lyle, his accent strong, but compared to Mansk, far better. "Spider spoke true. We're allies."

"You do not seek Toruk Makto?" Tonowari tested.

His ears flinched at Miles' sneer and Spider's cringing. The boy was uncomfortable with the man's name; it was far too similar to whenever Ao'nung was reminded of his original father. 

Whatever was between Toruk Makto and this Miles, it's incredibly personal and attached to his claimed son. 

"To kill him and bring him to the RDA? No. But I'll break his nose for his part in the abuse of my son," Miles growled, his accent thicker and worse than Mansk, but it was understandable enough. "Sully has a debt. Not only to me, my family, my friends and people, but his, too. He's as responsible for that big tree as I am." 

Debt - Toruk Makto had used that word before. It is a sky word but a familiar concept. 

Ronal wanted to know more about Toruk Makto's responsibility. They've heard much of Tsyeyk's side of this conflict but not the other. 

Spider shuffled closer to his father, uncomfortable with the subject. Meanwhile, Lyle was scowling, sharing Miles' anger. Their Ikrans hissed, sensing their rider's wrath. 

There's more to the songs. 

"Speak, Deja," Ronal stated, her flat tail slapping at the air and sand. 

Miles huffed, seemingly amused and unsurprised that they weren't aware. 

"Sully was offered a job, and that job was to tell the Omaticaya to move before RDA destroyed their home. He had three months but never told them. I was there; I made sure that at least some survived. They would've made someone else do it and with far less sympathy if I didn't go. I'm responsible by duty; he's responsible by choice." 

"You forgot to add that he mated with a Na'vi girl before telling them. That girl killed my Olo'eyktan and abused my godson," Lyle growled, and Miles chuffed in agreement. Their distaste for Toruk Makto was strong. 

Tonowari and Ronal would talk to Toruk Makto about this. While it was uncertain if he'd be truthful, Neytiri would. 

Everything was so much more complicated than before the Uturu. The Deja should be their enemies, but if Toruk Makto could leave the sky RDA, why couldn't they?

Ngaknay had spoken and declared Miles as one of them. His fledgling clan, by default, is also an ally. It's an intriguing problem to investigate further. 

Something about Miles had her interest. When he smiled, a fang would poke over his lip. It reminded her a lot of Kiri. Even how their ears moved was similar. 

That's another thing for Ronal to investigate. 

<Can I make a suggestion?> the tattooed girl inquired, standing in front of Spider. Her hands moved fluidly like captured rain. <Miles is the blue leader. Talk to the sky leader in our clan. She will tell you as much as you need. She can check the health of your baby, too.>

What little Ronal saw of "human" medicine was disappointing. The girl intrigued the leaders, for she signed like a trueborn Na'vi and had sea tattoos.

<Where are your markings from, child?> Tonowari asked, his tail flicking with interest. 

<I was raised by the Ilzeeya. Olo'eyktan O'eevun te Wìwet Fwlloäkhu'ite and Tsahik Kìmengol te Wìwet Ziru'itan taught me the way of the All-Mother and Storm Daughter, I passed my Iknimaya and gravely miss their songs. They were all silenced by an enemy we all share.>

The Metkayina and Ilzeeya weren't in good relations, but this information explained why there was no news of them anymore. They were gone. 

They're lost to the evergrowing boldness of her sire's greed. 

Spider and Delta are examples of how humans can learn their way and respect Eywa'veng. They're proof that not all sky people were their enemies. 

Kìmengol and O'eevun seldom trusted other clans, regardless of the trade alliance - not even the Maka'alo escaped their wariness. To fully embrace a sky spawn and allow her to engage with an Iknimaya was evidence of her character. 

"How can your sky healer feel a baby yet to breach the world?" Tonowari asked, his attention returning to Miles. 

"We use sound to see past the skin and flesh," Miles explained, his ears perking as Spider spoke in their shared tongue. "My sister is in charge of the sky people on our island. They can see how your baby is doing - see the gender and estimate when it's due." 

Ronal was so unsure of her pregnancy. While she didn't trust Miles fully, Ngaknay deemed him worthy of her touch. She couldn't argue with the Storm Daughter's decision. 

It would satiate the hunger for assurance.

She wanted to know that it would live. 

There's more than his mate's comfort to come. It allowed Tonowari to scout the Deja clan's base of operation. 

The more he knew about this new player in the pod of participants, the better for his people. Seeing what the humans are capable of is also imperative. 

Their home island is decently sized, likely formed by a long-dead volcano. There's much space to create a proper village should the Deja decide to dive headfirst into the depths of being true Na'vi. They'll need help learning to construct marui, but the Kallan can help them.

He guessed that the Ikran nested upon the hovering islands above it. It was far more familiar than the gigantic stone and metal Marui. The size is astounding and intimidating, the biggest he's seen. 

Tonowari couldn't even begin to understand the giant metal demon ship nearby. 

Mävängä hissed, uncertain of this new territory as they entered the small cove. His trusted mount wasn't usually so nervous, but the sky creation had earned that. 

Thankfully, his mate's Tsurak stayed cautious, keeping behind him. While Ronal was bold, Ikäu wasn't. 

Once he arrived at the shallows, Tonowari dismounted, letting his friend go to feed until called upon. He waited for his mate to assist her, even if it displeased her. Her stomach seemed to grow every morn. 

He knew how much she blamed herself for their son's passing. It's saddening and unfortunate, but it happens. 

Tonowari's mother struggled with making offspring; he was her only surviving child. He's familiar with what that loss can do to someone, and Tonowari wished he could spare his mate that pain. 

It's no fault of hers, though she'll likely never agree. So much weighed on his light's heart. 

She was so much stronger than him.

"I am fine, my half," his mate stated, but he saw the shine in her deep blue eyes. His concern warmed her like fire on a winter's eve. 

"I'm sure you are, my life."

An Ikran screeched as it landed on the beach, croaking to any that could hear it. He identified it as Cupcake, the oddly named warrior.

Unlike the Ikran of Toruk Makto's family, the Ikran of the Deja Blu were incredibly distinct. They had bold personalities and displayed them with pride. They were more like friends than mere mounts. He liked that about them, even though he was inexperienced with the flying entities. 

His father said that they followed The Sky Father. That made sense, considering that they called the skies their home. It was still intriguing, however. 

He liked it when Meara talked. His father didn't speak much after his mother's passing, even to the day he passed into the All Mother's embrace. What little Meara did talk about, Tonowari treasured. 

At least his father got to teach Ronal how to be the next Tsahik. 

"Welcome!" the boy yelled as he jumped from Cupcake's back. His friend, Delta, pounced soon after. "The Kallan have a camp on the west beach; you can see them if you'd like."

They weren't exempt from the Terror Wave, but at least most of them are still alive. That's more than Tonowari could say for some villages. One that was further north had no survivors other than Ilu. 

The Ikran pressed her head behind Delta's back, encouraging her to move. Her rider jumped from her back but remained connected. It was a reoccurrence for the Deja to do that. 

Was there a benefit to maintaining the Tsaheylu even when not riding? He'll have to investigate that. 

"It is large," Ronal stated, her ears twitching as Cupcake roared proudly. Her rider patted her neck with a grin, agreeing to something. 

As expected, Miles' "close friend" joined them, landing nearby. His Ikran, Whiskey, started chirping to Cupcake immediately, conversing with her. She merely pecked at his neck, annoyed. 

He liked this different side to the Ikran and watching their riders so obviously be invested in each other. How long until they figure it out? He'll have to make a game of it with his beloved. 

The smile the two shared was so telling that it hurt. The bald one appeared more aware, so it's the Olo'eyktan deaf to his song. 

<Almost everyone speaks Na'vi better than dumb and dumber,> Delta assured, already making her way to what looked like the entrance. 

It was easy to decipher who she was referring to. 

Amusingly, he saw a similar obliviousness between her and Miles' son, Spider. Is it a human thing to be unaware of clear signs? That's not necessarily useful to know, but it's entertaining. 

"They're in so bad," his mate stated quietly.

"Badly," he concurred, amused by it. "How long before they realise, do you think?"

"I give it three months."

"I'll have to go with two. Loser must clean the Tsurak tackle."

"You're on, my half."

Indeed they are. It's an inconvenient chore, not strenuous or punishing, but it was as bad as he was willing to go. Should Ngaknay and Eywa allow it, their child will be born by then; his mate will need much rest. 

She should be staying at Awa'atlu, but trying to keep her in a single place would only make her miserable. At most, he can ensure that she's being cautious. 

Ronal was as diverse as a reef; he loved all parts, even the burning corals. She could always surprise, impress and worry him at once; it was a mystical talent. 

Not to mention she was additionally beautiful when angry. Her fighting prowess would always excite him. Who better to be his mate than his equal?

"Welcome to Psi," Miles said, scratching Cupcake's chin. "My sister is inside."

"Your accent is so annoying," Spider joked. 

"Your mother loved it."

Spider gagged at the insinuation. 

So the boy isn't adopted? How? Are humans and Na'vi able to couple?

No, Miles was originally human before being undead. He must've fathered the boy in his sky-person life. Even in the next life, he sought his son.

Hopefully, Tonowari will be able to reunite with his family in his next life. If he could choose, he'd be a Tsurak. His mate should be a Nalutsa, beautiful but dangerous. 

Ao'nung is like a miniature Ronal; he could be an Akula. His dear daughter would be a Tulkun; it suited her best. 

Lyle used his tail to pat Spider's back, leaning away from Whiskey as he took off towards the floating islands. They passed through the entrance while Miles stayed behind, waiting for the pair. 

He's never seen the inside of sky-people creations. It'll be interesting. 

Encouraging his mate to stay slightly behind him, Tonowari joined Miles, entering the giant Marui. It looked like stone and metal, but it seemed to be neither. The smell was nothing like he'd experienced before; it slightly burned. 

The air is thinner here. Humans cannot breathe Eywa'veng air, so they had to change the inside of the Marui. It was tolerable but not something they could live in. 

It's possible that "Recombinants" can survive in both airs. 

Many little human people watched Tonowari and Ronal. They weren't aggressive or angry but curious and welcoming. Even littler humans were watching; they must be human children.

They're astoundingly tiny. How can they survive if they're so small?

A pair of identical children pounced on Miles' leg, excited to see him. He referred to them as "Robin" and "Jesse". 

"You're even taller than Uncle Milly!" Robin exclaimed, amazed by Tonowari. Her eyes were dark but so bright with life. "You're so pretty," she added, smiling wide at his beloved mate. 

It's impossible to tell how old this tiny sky child was. Judging by her voice and mannerisms, he estimated that she was Tsireya's age. 

"You speak well, Rovin," Ronal stated, her ears perking with intrigue. "You and your sister, Tsessi, have wonderfully coloured hair."

"Thank you," Jesse giggled, red flushing to her cheeks. 

They're not even the height of Ronal's knees, but they were adorable. He loved it when Ao'nung and Tsireya were that sizes; Rotxo was so cute, especially with his chubby cheeks. Tiny but mighty. 

Lyle clapped his palms, speaking their common tongue. The girls looked disappointed for a brief moment before Spider ruffled their heads. The boy, their cousin, glanced back at his father before leading the girls away. 

There are many here with families, all hoping to do the best they can. It wasn't something they could neglect. 

Somehow, this individual frightened Toruk Makto so much that he abandoned his clan. So far, Tonowari has only seen the protectiveness of a father, nothing he hasn't seen or even experienced. What about him was so dangerous?

He and his kin have an unusual amount of muscle; is it a physical terror? Did Miles beat him in combat? Or was it the possible fact that Miles had proof that Toruk Makto's song wasn't as heroic as sung? 

There are many intriguing possibilities washing up on the Olo'eyktan's beach. Many questions require answers, but will he receive them?

A feminine human stood up, carrying an even smaller human; it was tiny! Is that what human infants look like? 

"I wish my brother warned me about you coming, but I'm happy to help," Scarlett stated, following their gaze to her baby. "This is my son, Finn. He's going to be three soon enough."

How are they that tiny at merely three?

No wonder humans need to use sound to check the health of growing babies. They're so fragile! Even a freshly hatched Ilu was more sizeable than a three-year-old human child. How tiny are their babies!?

"Your offspring are small," Ronal said, also curious. "This is why you must observe their growth?"

"Partly," Scarlett admitted, encouraging that they follow her. "Come along!"

Her brother stuck to her side, conversing something in their shared language. All the while, Lyle was enthralled by watching his Olo'eyktan. He's in deep enough to find Eywa herself. 

It looked like both he and Ronal would be wrong; they could trip into each other any day now. 

If his mother were alive, he knew that she would be meddling. She always knew what to do. 

Scarlett showed them to a room with many clear baskets filled with water. There are several fish inside of them. On a table of metal was a cut-open Ilu with a human investigating the innards of it. 

The human was different from Scarlett, their skin far darker with almost no hair. Humans are so varied. 

"It had a growth," the human said, showing the liver with a greenish blister. They'd never seen anything like that. "Hopefully, we can cure whatever this is before it spreads."

"How contagious is it?" Ronal asked, concerned.

"It seemingly spreads by ingestion. We suspect that there's a specific location that's causing this. It might even be radiation. I'm Roman, by the way." 

So, do not eat the Ilu. That's simple. Only a few clans actively eat Ilu. 

Learning that they potentially had infected Ilu was a problem, however. It's good that humans seek a cure, but how do they look after their living Ilu? 

Miles and Lyle remained close to the entrance. The Deja leader took Finn from Scarlett, showing him the little fish. It reminded Tonowari of when he was introducing a young Tsurak to his little Tsireya. 

He gets to do that again. 

There's something mystical about a small child discovering the world around them. It always amazed him. 

"How do you use sound to see the baby?" Tonowari asked as Scarlett requested his mate sit on an empty metal table.

He wondered how many creatures lay there, gutted like that Ilu.

"It's like an echo," Roman answered, placing the organ in a clear basket thingy and shutting it.

He put it in a storage rectangle in the wall, frost wafting from it. How bizarre.

How're they also able to capture the cold?

"We put a cream on the belly to help the item make sounds, and it echoes back a picture," Scarlett explained, putting something over her hands that was white. She took a tube and squeezed, a clear liquid dripping onto her hand. "We've done this for Ilu and even a Reì before."

Tonowari loved those silly creatures. It was always a joy when they passed through during their migration south. 

As Roman pushed a metal flat-thing close to them, Scarlett applied the substance to his mate's stomach. She was perplexed but as curious as he was. To use sounds to see past the flesh was a fascinating concept. 

The others will gawk at this idea. It'll spread like rain across the seas, information regarding what humans can do. 

There's much to sneer it, but there are benefits to their presence, much like Na'vi themselves. There are several clans that Tonowari could almost bring himself to hate. 

It doesn't come naturally for Tonowari to feel hate. The most he'd feel was intense anger or rage, but not hate. Even for the spineless coward that killed his mother, he struggled to muster that sensation. 

Part of him feared that soon he would feel such a powerful but self-destructive emotion. The sun is setting on their era of brief peace, and the war would reignite anew. It would be bloodier than before. He was certain. 

For now, he had to enjoy what he could. His mate and the life growing strong in her womb; he looked forward to the little being she had created. 

It'll never cease impressing him how those with wombs could create an entire life. It's something he would always respect. 

Someday, if she chose, Tsireya could create a life as well. 

"We should ally ourselves, Skarlett. We share a common foe," Tonowari stated firmly, paying attention to Miles with tiny Finn. "The Daughter has already claimed your brother. I'm sure you're close behind him."

"More than that. He sacrificed a lot to raise me, making me the proud mother I am before you. My brother can be dense, but he's loyal to the death and after," she agreed, and Roman provided a hum of approval. "It may feel strange, but soon you'll be able to see your baby on the screen."

Roman assisted with what the "screen" was. 

As Scarlett gently placed the item on his mate's stomach, pictures flickered like hot waves upon the sand. They soon cleared, creating a startlingly clear image of not one shape but two. 

It's a trait of his mate's clan, though they assumed it only worked with others in that clan; that assumption was disproven. 

Instead of a single child as they anticipated, they were blessed with two, a first in the Metkayina's history. 

Light of his life, the warmth in the winter, how the sun paled compared to her smile. 

His Ronal, his other half, shone like singing flames upon the dancing waters. Her brilliant eyes glowed brighter than any star, her delicate yet precise fingers grazing the cold frame of the moving painting. 

The loss of their son would weigh heavily even when they move to their next life, but they can relish knowing their children are ok. She is safe, as is his mate. 

Although Tonowari will never understand sky people's mystic arts, he appreciated it. How they plundered metal from the ground and twisted it to create a picture was unfathomable - it was a gift he would cherish until his final breath. 

To so freely offer this opportunity whilst asking nought in return was absurd. They asked for no weapons, territory or food, not even trade. 

"They're strong," Scarlett assured, smiling proudly. "I estimate that in nine days or so, you'll have two incredible daughters."

Only that long? So little time.

It was exhilarating. 

Tonowari pressed his forehead against his mate's, sharing a warm breath. His other half had blessed him with a gift most unforeseen.

"You bless me each waking day, my half. The fire within your heart burns enough for three," he smiled, feeling her ease into his touch. 

"Your embrace keeps us safe, my half," his love whispered, gently placing her lips on the bridge of his nose. 

Even now, it still felt like they were youths attempting and failing at being stealthy. 

Miles stated something in the sky tongue, making Roman hurry to another device. After a few moments, he returned with a thin rectangular item, reaching towards the couple.

"It's a photo. You'll always have this memory of them with you," Roman said, an empathetic smile upon his darker features. "I still have mine from when my son was born. It brings a tear to my eye every time."

Tonowari retrieved it from Roman, encouraging his mate to share. Her thing fingers graced the tiny faces of their creations, their beautiful daughters. 

A gift that will be immortalised in Metkayina songs until the sun no longer rises. 

"It'll survive water, too," Lyle added, letting Finn play with his ear. 

"There are no words for what you've granted us," his love said, her gaze fixated on the physical memory of their soon-to-be children. "We will not forget this. It will be paid back in kind."

"Don't bother," Miles stated, intriguing him further. "One parent to another. As you said, we're allies. Least we can do." 

As grateful as Tonowari was, it only confused him more. How can this man who is so gentle with that tiny and fragile toddler be so threatening to Toruk Makto? 

It was arguable that in the brief time they met, Miles had done more for the Metkayina than Tsyeyk had. That's concerning. 

He'll forever debate if he made the right choice, but he could never turn away those children, even annoying and spirited Lo'ak. 

There is a lot for him to investigate. For this moment, however, he'll bask in the beauty of their daughters and new allies.

The Daughter seemingly chose right. She's yet to lead them far from the correct current. 

Chapter Text

Spider didn't like that woman.

Ardmore wanted all the recoms to have wings, regardless of how ready Miles said they were. His opinion of them, especially Kane, was low. They could all get killed doing this, but Ardmore didn't care.

He couldn't fathom the strain she was under, trying to run a new sanctuary for humanity, but she was driving herself and Bridgehead to hell. 

His Dad, naturally, wasn't pleased. That only got worse when Karagatan decided that she, too, would feel the sky, and then one of the visiting Metkayina wanted to join.

Seven people, none of whom have met a wild ikran, is a lot for one person to manage. 

Spider felt a pang of guilt. More than a pang. He tried to get his Dad killed when they went to acquire an ikran. He deliberately chose a more dangerous path and even directed his Dad to one of the most notoriously vicious ikran of the mountains - the one that had, until his Dad, killed every aspiring rider that wanted to feel the clouds.

It was astonishing to think that Cupcake was something to be terrified of nearly a year ago. Her colours were unmistakable, a beautiful warning to avoid her gaze. She was the catalyst that enabled her father to find some level of peace.

She was even named after the dog that Raf made him kill. Such a name held a lot of weight for his Dad, so Cupcake kept it, turning a source of pain into a deep bond. 

He didn't think he'd ever have an auntie, let alone two. It was undeniable that Cupcake was his aunt, his father's sister from the sky. 

All of them were family. Even the asocial Firefly to an extent. While she only let Mansk touch her, she was still a proud member of their clan. 

It felt right to say "their clan", the Deja. 

To think that Spider nearly ruined all of this because he tried to get them killed. He would've missed out on having the family he'd always wanted. 

Ja nearly died before they even got to the rookery. If his Dad weren't hypervigilant, he would've fallen to his demise.

It made Spider feel sick.

Uncle Ja was good. All of his uncles and aunts were. They're family, supporting him and introducing him to new things. 

He enjoyed it whenever Mansk started cooking; he thought Prager's paganism was fascinating; Jade's taste in music was terrific, and despite being a cheeky bastard, Lopez knew a lot about historical stuff, especially the history of Mexico. Learning about the holiday Día de los Muertos was beautiful. 

Three days to celebrate your loved ones. A happy and joyous time, embracing the memory of those you miss and teaching the young about their relatives. It interested him immensely.

He enjoyed talking to Reyah, hearing all the wild stories of what it was like at Hell's Gate, the little prank wars and how Kiri's mom was a surprisingly mischievous woman.

Spider thought his Dad was exaggerating when it came to his and Grace's miniature war, but if anything, he understated it. He recalled fondly how Reyah giggled, explaining Grace's reaction to her link bed being full of fwampop shit and glitter - how did Grace get revenge?

Getting a fire extinguisher, rigging it like a smoke bomb and throwing it into his Dad's office. Supposedly, you could still find bits of fire-retardant foam. It took hours to get it off him.

It turned out that she did put her pee in his coffee at least five separate times. 

Nobody knew who had started it, but the science team enjoyed placing bets on what the other would do in retaliation.

Röskva, also known as Big Roz, had proven herself after the tsunami. She was determined to be a motherly figure to Sóley, which was so sweet. She was a little unsure, but she was eager to earn his Dad's trust. 

With Taliesin, he was just a nervous wreck. He could talk for hours about zoology, but the poor guy needed some confidence-building. He struggled to communicate without being awkward, anxious or antsy. 

The other two were a different matter.

Reed was aloof and seemed uncomfortable around children, though Spider was nearly an adult. The size difference could've made it hard for Reed to see him as a near-adult.

Kane was a piece of work. She had no respect for Pandora, for his Dad, for anybody. She didn't care for the RDA, either. It wasn't clear what her motivations or allegiances were. 

It'd be interesting to see how she managed this monumental task.

"You alright, mwnci bach?" Prager asked, lightly patting Spider's back. "Been a bit since we were up here, huh, mwnci?"

"I tried killing you guys."

"You didn't know or trust us. Can't blame you there. Not like we met under the best circumstances."

That was true.

They were startlingly different from how the guys first presented themselves at the shack. 

They're dangerous to their enemies, but other than that, they were chill. 

What would Fike have been like if he hadn't died? What about Walker? Zhang? Warren? Brown? They were all friends of his family. They fought together, died together. 

They were spoken highly of. 

The team only wanted Jake. With hindsight, he knew his Dad wouldn't hurt any of them, not on purpose. They didn't know that, though. 

Kiri would kill to hear the stories of how her mother was an absolute menace, how she put itching powder in the SecOps' uniforms for amusement. Hell, Lyle even went to the school along with Grace as her bodyguard - they called him ts'ik, meaning egg, due to his alopecia.

He would've known Sylwanin. Damn, he would've known a younger Neytiri, maybe even Tsu'tey. 

Didn't Grace tour Hell's Gate with her school once? Did his Dad meet a younger Neytiri as well? That's so wild.

"Motherfucker, what'd you bring that for?" Lopez exclaimed, watching Mansk remove some cooking stuff from Firefly's back.

He brought that out here? It'll be nice to try some of his yerik dishes again. 

Firefly was like an assistant chef, often catching the meat he required for whatever he wanted to cook. She was probably more interested than she let on, given that she allowed him to bring his stuff.

Spider didn't know why the ikran had such a vastly different relationship with their riders than what he had seen his whole life. He had the basic information, like how the Deja are open and fully immersed with their spirit kin. But it's so much more than that, though.

It made him think about the Sully Ikran and how distant the relationships felt compared to the Deja. 

Bob had never eagerly joined Jake in any of his hobbies. He didn't shove his face into Jake's chest, he wouldn't use his wing like a blanket, show interest in what Jake did, nor teach him the Ikran way. Before his Dad, he didn't even know there was an Ikran way.

Tamet's relationship with Neytiri was rough. She still grieved Seze, possibly keeping their bond on the edge to avoid being hurt again. But that wasn't fair to Tamet, who almost seemed playful, but unable to engage with his rider.

Taha was like a soldier. He was like Neteyam, following to the precise syllable what a future Olo'eyktan's mount was supposed to be. He seemed to isolate himself just as Neteyam did, burdened by the weight of Jake's shadow.

Telisi was rebellious like Lo'ak. She was young, wanting to fly and play, but wasn't allowed to. She always managed to get scolded, just like Lo'ak did. Perhaps that's why she chose him - she saw that they were alike.

Then there was his best friend, Kiri. She came across Tanhì by chance and merely requested that he be her friend. Since then, he has had a far more loving relationship than the others.

His best friend and Dad were similar that way, having an intriguing perspective on different things. They'd probably get along well when it came to Ikran - the stories his Dad must have that Kiri would kill for.

Hopefully, she'd never find out that her mom and his Dad had a moment or two of being so angry at each other that they did the horizontal tango, as Norm would put it. 

She'd love Cupcake. He was confident that Cupcake would love her, too.

"Look at these! These are cauda aduncum zygoptera eggs!" Taliesin almost squealed, excitedly looking at some green spots on a bunch of rawp. 

He disliked the complexity of the scientific names. Thanks to being around the scientists for so long, he recognised that Taliesin was talking about Syulì’ang eggs.

The man was passionate about animals. It was endearing how the Irishman was more comfortable with animals than people.

It was a good sign. It meant that Taliesin would want to preserve life, to learn more about it. 

"They're bug eggs, mate," Kane huffed, annoyed. "They better not be mozzies."

"I don't think Pandora has mosquitoes. Do they?" Röskva questioned, perplexed. "Tal, are there any mosquitoes?"

"There's an equivalent, but we're far from their habitat. Roz, look, you can even tell that these are female! The female eggs have these subtle ridges compared to the males!" he grinned, encouraging her to have a look.

While Roz didn't share his enthusiasm, she still joined him and watched as he gestured about them.

Karagatan was more intrigued by what his father was doing, watching calmly. She was faring much better than the Metkayina lady, Täiayk. 

His Dad was by the edge, looking at the vast floating islands. His gaze kept flicking up to the clouds, ears up in alert.

It was the first time either of the sea na'vi had been so far from the waters, or so high in the sky.

The mountains were foreign territory for them. Having a very relaxed tsahik in a similar position as Täiayk didn't do much to quell her anxiety.

Spider suspected she was spying for Tonowari, so he knew Miles and the Deja were trustworthy. They were one of the clans with considerable influence, like sea-dwelling Tipani. 

That was alright, though. The Metkayina would see that Dad and the Deja were incredible allies, loyal and dedicated. 

Keeping the sea clans safe was one of his father's priorities. Being one with the ocean, its people, the whole of it - it's where they belonged. It was home. For Spider's family, it was their only true home. 

Flying on an ikran, swimming with ilu, able to understand tulkun, and making allies. 

Spider was learning to hold his breath like the sea people. He would sit with Delta on the beach, and she taught him to breathe. If he can keep it for longer than a minute, he could have his face underwater. 

She was a good friend, someone who understood him. She was a fellow human raised among the na'vi, albeit with a more complicated history. She offered to do a tattoo for him, something she learned from her original clan before it got massacred.

All the Deja have a tattoo. They were copies of the originals, but still. Out of them, Jade's was the most beautiful and intricate - she had so many colours, especially on her arms. 

His Dad had two, a shark's fin and an eagle. The fin was for his mother, and the eagle was for his sister. His silly callsign was also from Ellie. The whole "Papa Dragon" was her suggestion, so it was a way to keep her with him.

What would Spider's callsign be? Probably something stupid like Little Dragon. 

Spider learned how to ride an ilu using his voice. He could fly with an ikran soulmate of his own. 

He should ask his Dad about it. Knowing how intertwined Miles was with Ikran, he could certainly figure something out. 

"What is he doing?" Täiayk questioned, her ears flattened nervously. "He looks as though he'll fall to his demise."

"For all that the storm daughter sees My'als, he has a way with skies - I assure you this, Täiayk, he never fails to surprise. Even if you'd rather he wouldn't," Karagatan smiled, almost proudly. "Do not be fooled by his poor Na'vi."

As if hearing her, his Dad stepped away from the edge.

"Keep your weapons holstered, people," his father commanded, seemingly out of nowhere. "Before we start finding an ikran partner, we need permission first. We're in somebody's home, and makin' a good first impression is always important."

"I was under the impression that you just find one and stick the head-tails together," Reed said, confused. "Who precisely are we asking permission from? The only na'vi around are Sully's band."

"Never said she was na'vi," his Dad said cryptically.

Lyle sighed very loudly, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I swear to whatever god or gods that exist, you better not be doing what I think you are," the tired man said, somehow knowing what his Dad was talking about.

"Oh yeah!" Lopez yelled, excited.

"Rydyn ni'n mynd i farw," Prager sighed, shaking his head. "Don't get eaten!"

Eaten?

A frightening bellow echoed through the mountains. 

Spider knew that roar. How couldn't he? The mighty call was one that all in the mountains knew by heart. He'd heard it several times while hiding in resistance HQ, the thunderous sound scaring any ikran that experienced it.

Though Cupcake remained at his father's side, the others were nervous. Some, like Zelda and Shredder, had a protective wing over their riders.

Taliesin looked like he was going to pass out from excitement.

A shadow formed in the clouds before they bloomed like a white, fluffy inferno. Dark orange wings with deep black stripes shimmered under the sun, the blue of those giant crests seemingly slicing through the air. 

The titan of the skies landed, taking up a lot of space. It was huge; the recordings of it didn't do it any justice. 

A true giant, a beast that deserved its fables and reverence.

To think that Jake rode one of those. Perhaps even this specific one.

The Toruk landed with a monstrous thud, those thick talons digging into the stone. Sharp amber eyes burned into them, the sheer size of it putting reasonable fear in Spider's soul.

They earned their reverence, the respect. Anyone who tried to ride such a creature had to be brave or stupid, possibly both. 

The third option, insane, is when you try to talk to it. That category belonged solely to Spider's father. 

Despite the immense danger, Cupcake stayed right at his father's side. They shared a unique bond.

When crouched, he appeared a lot like Cupcake did, copying her. His mannerisms looked more Ikran than na'vi. And he could sound almost exactly like an Ikran, which was a stark contrast to his terrible na'vi. 

The fact that the Toruk hadn't snapped at them yet was a good sign. It tilted its head, processing whatever the bonded pair was trying to convey. 

Täiayk stared at Karagatan, understanding what she'd meant earlier. 

"She's beautiful!" Taliesin said, tearing up. "A truly magnificent specimen. See the dulled edges on her crest? She's at least two hundred years old, possibly more. Such incredible patterning..."

It seemed that the Toruk comprehended what Taliesin was saying, her head perking up at his expression of amazement. 

"Crikey. You're talkin' like you wanna date the giant bird. How do you even know it's a sheila? Could be a bloke."

"The males are smaller and have a blue hide instead of orange," he elaborated. "It's incredible. They mate for life and-"

"We don't need a lecture, O'Brien. But your enthusiasm is appreciated," Reed sighed, patting the excited man on the back.

The giantess croaked and growled, saying something to his father. She had an intense look in her deep, large eyes. Perhaps a warning?

It was fascinating to watch. In a smooth, practised motion, Miles did a bow of sorts, using his arms in the place of wings, Cupcake following suit beside him. 

For a few moments, the toruk was still, almost like a painting or statue. Slowly, the toruk lowered that heavy head towards his father, releasing a softer hiss from her sharp, giant maw. 

There's a peculiar form of pride in witnessing such a strange yet special moment. 

She lifted her gigantic head, hot air sighing from her operculum. The titan seemed appeased.

What would people think if his father rode one of these magnificent and frightening beings? Would Spider be able to join him?

A human on the back of a Toruk. Nobody could argue that he belonged on Pandora then. 

Cupcake nudged Miles, trilling happily. 

"The fool is insane," Täiayk hissed, astonished by the display. "If he attempted such a thing with an akula, it would eat him."

"Knowing My'als as I do, I would not doubt that not only would he befriend it, but name it after a sky people's food," Karagatan smiled.

Dad had a recurring theme. 

What legitimate hell was he going to call the Toruk? There was no chance he was going to call her "the Toruk". 

It's going to be stupid. 

His Dad stood up, looking back at the rest of them.

"Bagel said it's all good!"

This motherfucker. How is Spider related to this buffoon?

"You seriously didn't name it that," Spider said, astounded. "Bagel? Really?"

Of all the foods he could've gone with, why Bagel?

"What? Gotta call her somethin'. I doubt our newbies can say-" a bunch of croaks and hisses followed.

Alright, fair enough. Most weren't going to be able to pronounce that. 

The toruk, Bagel, had granted permission to seek an ikran partner. It wasn't something that Spider ever would've thought to do, but, wildly, it made sense. The mountains were her territory, her home. They were guests. 

Everyone watched as the giant moved, easily climbing over a steep ledge to observe them. She looked strangely content like that, settled and perhaps more curious than anything. 

To think she could be as old as Taliesin said. He was super into the native life of Pandora, so he was probably correct.

She must've seen so many things in her ancient life. Was she the very same that Jake rode? And if she was two hundred years old, did previous Toruk Makto's ride her? How many had tried to claim her and failed?

How many were crazy enough to ask her permission? The ask alone seemed to intrigue her. 

Given how his Dad seemed to be able to persuade anything into letting him perform the tsaheylu, could he do it with Bagel, too?

If Bagel were the same Toruk that Jake took into battle, then she'd have a unique perspective that his Dad would be interested in. 

Cupcake herself fought in the battle of the Hallelujah Mountains. Many of the Deja Ikran did. Only Shredder wasn't in the fight; he was too young at the time. 

"Sunt șocat că nu a încercat să o călărească," Jade whispered to Mansk, earning a hum of agreement. "How about it? Miles as Toruk Makto?"

"Nah, Colonel wouldn't go for it. Not his style," Ed shrugged. "Do you think I could make bagels? That might be nice."

"Ooo, yeah, that sounds awesome. Toasted bagels are al naibii de frumos."

Spider wanted to eat a bagel. If Z-Dog was eager and Mansk was making it, then it would be excellent.

"Which of you is going first?!" his father grinned, looking rather excited for this, as was Cupcake. 

Reyah raised her hand eagerly, nearly bouncing from excitement. Her flat tail acted as a fan, brushing away the dust and dirt under her. 

They still weren't sure why Reyah had a sea na'vi body compared to the others. In Spider's mind, they were experimenting to see what different kinds of na'vi were compatible.

Maybe there were more Recoms they didn't know about yet. These five might not be the only ones. 

Despite being so small for a Recom, she was determined, boldly approaching Dad with a sense of pride on her face. She wanted to fly, to be full Deja. 

Maybe someday, Spider could find an Ikran that would accept him. He wanted to fly with them, not just as a passenger. 

"How will I know which one wants me?" Reyah asked, looking a little giddy.

"That depends. If you want to fight for the right, or if you wish to ask," Miles said, intriguing Täiayk.

Spider found some amusement in watching the Metkayina. She would have a lot of things to tell Tonowari and Ronal. Having her able to fly on an Ikran would improve communication.

"I want to ask them. I'm not a fighter - I should hope they don't want one either," Reyah nodded, her ears perked with excitement and natural nervousness. 

"They'll fight for you.

Before an audience, Reyah held her arms out wide, copying Miles. She knelt downwards, her right arm moving to point in the same direction as her left, the hands lightly shaking with purpose. The left arm went upward, her hand aiming towards the onlooking Ikrans, her tail rigid and straight. Her eyes were closed, her chin against her throat.

It was nothing that the sea na'vi had ever seen before. Though Reyah was awkward and stumbled a little, Miles had practised this before. He'd learned from Cupcake, his spirit sister.

The movements were fluid, as if gliding through the air. 

Cupcake watched on proudly, as did the fascinated Bagel. Nobody had done such a thing in the presence of the toruk. It earned her full attention. 

As Reyah waited, Spider watched the crowd of observers. Several Ikran were intrigued, possibly debating whether or not they should accept. 

One with skin like a roasted fish let go of a floating mountain, opening its wings to glide towards Reyah. Deep yellow eyes locked onto her form, chirping softly. All the while, Dad whispered to her, telling her to stay still.

Slowly, the ikran brought a claw to its head and rested its chin upon her palm. Affirmation. 

With encouragement from her leader, Reyah gently lowered her arm as she stood, moving as one with the ikran as she could. When it lifted its head, it brought its kuru to her. She opened her eyes, and the tsaheylu formed.

Reyah's eyes were wide with wonder and amazement. She looked to the ikran with unhindered admiration. 

"Sister," Reyah smiled, gently bringing a hand to her forehead and bringing it down. The ikran did the same. "May I fly with you, Farah?"

The ikran lowered itself for her, watching as she got upon its back. With a proud caw, the ikran took off with a gleeful Reyah.

It was beautiful. 

"Let her tell you what to do!" Miles called out. 

Farah roared, showing off Reyah to the flock. It had several onlookers more interested in this bizarre and foreign clan. 

"Se på deg!" Roz bellowed proudly, clapping her hands as she watched Reyah and Farah. "That's it, Rey-Rey!"

The other Deja ikran yelled, welcoming Farah to the clan. Even Firefly was giving a good call. 

"I had believed you had to fight them to the death. How did he learn of this alternative?" Täiayk asked, astounded, perhaps even inspired. "There are no songs of such a way other than perhaps that of Entu." 

"There weren't any songs until now. I'm sure that when you find your soulmate of the sky, you both shall sing them for the Metkayina," Karagatan smiled. "Perhaps even Tonowari can take to the sky."

"Do not tempt him with such thoughts. Ronal would skin us both."

"Then once her babes breach this world, she may join us. I doubt she'd be in favour of being left out."

Spider watched proudly as Roz went next. 

She held a lot of regret for not being able to do more on that terrible day. With a sky soulmate, if another tsunami came, she would be far more able to help. 

"Ey, changuito?"

Oh, Eywa, please, not another one.

"What, Bruno?" Spider grumbled, annoyed.

"Why don't eggs tell jokes? " Lopez grinned. "They might crack up!"

"I hate you."

Zelda trilled in agreement. 

"Come on! That one was good! Grumpy, tell him my jokes are great."

"How 'bout get fucked mate," Kane grumbled, annoyed. "How do you even eat this shit? It's hard!"

The food she was discussing was a shelled fish. The cooks would use a tiny bone needle to kill it and then cook it. Something in the shell made it taste better when intact than if the fish had been scooped out.

Spider didn't mind them. You have to use your fingers to squeeze the spine of the shell, and the meat oozes out. You essentially drink it. 

Knowing Mansk, he was going to make something nice with it. 

"Nah, gruñona, you gotta pinch the back bit and it comes out," Bruno said, offering his hand to assist her. "Lo vas a romper."

"I don't speak Taco Bell."

What's a Taco Bell? The taco thing is familiar, at least.

Spider tried some when Bruno and Ed decided to make them using yerik meat. It wasn't too bad, although Lopez and Mansk kept arguing over the cooking methods. 

"I don't speak "major cunt from down under" but here we are."

Lucy sneered, but relented, allowing Bruno to take the vr'aku. He pinched the spine, making the nicely cooked meat inside begin to show itself. It smelled pretty good, too.

She didn't thank him, only took it back and started eating. 

Whatever. It's better than Lopez's stupid jokes.

Zelda lifted her head, cooing with concern. She seemed unsettled about something, worrying Bruno. That was his best friend, his sky sister - it would be unusual if he didn't try to comfort her. 

Overhead, Gwyllgi and Quicksilver sped through the air, looking strangely panicked. A caw came from a nearby Shredder, causing Zelda to chirp with fear.

Bruno grabbed Spider and put him on Zelda's back, looking immensely stressed.

"¡Muévete, gruñón!" He exclaimed, gripping Kane's arm and trying to pull her onto Zelda. "We gotta go, now!"

"What the fuck, Lopez!?" she shouted, offended and confused.

"Everyone! To the hollow!" bellowed the Olo'eyktan and his son, rounding people up to start running. "The terror approaches!"

What was the terror?

Seeing the people running made Kane less against getting on Zelda. The three of them went up, Zelda calling out to the other ikran to let them know she was in the air. 

It felt like no time at all. One moment, Spider was hanging out with Bruno, Zelda, and Kane, and the next, the village he had grown to like was engulfed. There was so much water, twisting and thrashing, almost like a feral beast.

Never in Spider's life had he seen anything close to it — the absolute power of nature, the quickness of it, the devastation. Nothing could ever prepare him for something like this.

Terror was an understatement. 

He saw floating debris. There were flailing Ilus trying to escape, squealing in fear. Many teal hands breached the surface, seeking salvation, only to sink once more and never return. There were red spots in the vicious racing waters, and for all that Spider shouldn't, he could smell the iron and salt. 

Absolute terror.

Zelda made it to the large tree in the centre of the island, known as the "hollow". On its branches, many injured watched on as their home was swallowed, chewed and spat back out.

So many people.

There was a woman whose leg had been torn off, possibly by debris. A panicked Taliesin was with her, doing his best to stop the bleeding. 

People were crying, screaming, praying, begging, searching for their family. The leaders were doing their best to organise, as did the Deja team, but someone was missing.

He couldn't see Miles or Cupcake anywhere. 

Panic swelled in Spider's heart, worried that Miles hadn't made it. He couldn't lose his Dad, not again. Not after everything they'd been through.

Then he heard an ikran screech. Out of them all, he knew this one by heart.

"Wait, changuito!" Lopez yelled, but his words did nothing to stop Spider from running. 

His Dad. He wanted his Dad. 

The safest place on all of Pandora, the shield from all the terrors. The man who made him feel wanted, loved. The first adult to truly accept him as he was, not wanting him to be something else. 

Spider never wanted to go back to before his Dad. 

In the sea of teal, there was that darker shade, the round prehensile tail, and the ikran with a beautiful pattern none could ever look away from, those cropped ears, the hair that's starting to curl.

He needed his Dad. 

"Miles!"

Spider didn't think about it. He knew, in his soul, that his Dad would catch him. There was no hesitation about jumping, and as he knew, those large blue arms wrapped around him. 

There had to be some restraint given how strong they were, but feeling his father holding him, almost like he was scared he'd wash away. 

He felt his Dad's heart thundering, his breathing hard and stressed. 

In all of Pandora, there wasn't a safer place than right there. For all that it should make Spider feel small, it was like having a fortress around him. 

It became even stronger as his spirit aunt rested her head against his back, cooing, grateful that he was alright. 

"You're ok," his Dad said, his voice trembling. "You're ok." 

He was so relieved that Spider was alright. 

Bruno was scratching Zelda's neck, murmuring sweet things to her in Spanish. 

If Spider wasn't with him, what could've happened? 

He couldn't imagine his life without his Dad now, but he had a suspicion that if anything happened to him, his Dad would burn the world. 

For all that his father was excellent, he was the vengeful type. 

Spider watched on as Roz was the next one to seek a sky sibling. Like with Reyah, Miles showed her how to make a request. 

As she was far larger than Reyah, she was clumsier. Even so, Roz was highly determined to get it right. She took it personally.

Her efforts didn't get ignored. An Ikran saw how hard she was trying to get it right, to be as respectful as possible. One descended from one of the mountains, landing before them.

This one resembled the picture of a snowflake obsidian that Max had shown Spider once — a deep, onyx-like black with white patches. The crests were a bright red, the eyes a deep amber shade. It had a beautiful pattern. 

"I didn't do it right," Roz growled to herself, a disappointed look on her face. 

"Let her decide whether it was enough," his father said, patting her back as the ikran brought her kuru to Roz. 

Röskva was still unsure, but relented to Miles' encouragement. Slowly, she brought her kuru to the Ikran, initiating the bond. 

It had a kick to it, blowing the air from Roz's lungs. The Ikran trilled, likely seeing her anxiety and need to get this right - she didn't want to fail again.

"Dagny," Roz sighed, the newly named Ikran pressing her face against hers. "Yes, yes, you'll make a great auntie to her. Sóley'll be lucky to have you."

That sounded like a nice name. 

Eventually, he'd learn what it meant. It held some importance to Roz. 

Spider watched as Talisien earned an Ikran's eye, a male with dark slate-grey skin and cerulean stripes - he was named Daithí. 

Karagatan acquired a male that she named Maäpvä, one with bright green markings around his face.

The nervous Täiayk also earned the eye of a male, whom she named Urmi. 

So many new wings to grace the sea. It was exciting. 

That left only Kane and Reed. While Reed seemed to be trying to ready himself, Kane had checked out of the whole thing. 

She looked like she'd rather be anywhere else.

"What's up with her?" Spider asked, watching as Kane kept to herself. "Doesn't she want to fly as well?"

"Gruñona's been off since the tsunami. The mountains ain't going anywhere, changuito. There's always another day to give it a shot," Lopez smiled, ruffling his hair.

Spider didn't want his Dad to have to braid it again. As much as Spider enjoyed learning how to care for himself, he struggled to do his hair by himself. 

He still felt like an idiot after hacking at it, but his father helped him. 

Lopez was right, though. If Kane didn't feel ready, it was best not to force her. 

The tsunami affected all of them. It was traumatic, and Spider wouldn't fault Lucy for that. 

Mansk coped with it the worst. He was there when the floods came and swallowed his home. The home of his Dad, Mansk and Lyle became The Glades. 

At least Lyle and his Dad weren't there, although it seemed like his Dad had experienced tsunamis before. How common were they on Earth?

"Up you go, Brett. Gotta break that kuru-ginity one way or another," Reyah teased, petting Farah's head. "It's got a bit of a kick, so prepare, alright?"

"I'm increasingly concerned as to what you could mean by that," the Englishman sighed, shaking his head as he stepped forward.

It was highly evident that Reed felt embarrassed by the ritual. Due to wearing shoes, he wasn't able to move as gracefully. 

The poor guy was still struggling with his tail, unable to use it to balance himself. 

With how difficult this was for him, he could go for the trial by combat. It'd be less embarrassing than this. 

He was still giving it a go, which was more than could be said for Kane, but still. It seemed sad to watch. 

One of the Ikran must've taken pity on Reed's attempts. It descended from the cliffs, landing before them. It was bright green with a blue crest, the eyes a lighter shade of yellow than Spider usually saw.

While Dad was very calm, Reed was nervous. He'd never met this Ikran before, only used to the "tamed" ones.

Firefly was far from tame. If anything, she liked Mansk's food too much to leave. 

When the Ikran brought their kuru towards Reed, cooing in an attempt to put him at ease, the Englishman appeared afraid.

Spider could only imagine how daunting it must be to share one's mind and very soul with another entity. 

With encouragement from Dad, Reed cautiously brought his kuru towards the Ikran's.

Reed paused. When those tendrils connected, he panicked, yelling in terror. He pulled away, falling on his back and breathing rapidly. 

Ja and Tal were already at his side, checking he wasn't having a heart attack or something. 

The Ikran lowered its head, visibly surprised by the reaction. 

Spider had heard about this. Sometimes, people aren't as ready as they thought they were. It's an intense commitment, especially how the Deja do it. 

Unlike other clans, even the famed Kekunan, the Deja open their entire souls to the Ikran. They become a single being. 

"Bloody hell, you severely understated how much of a kick in the arse that is..." Reed panted, sweating and a bit pale. "I feel like I got electrocuted."

His hands were shaking. Never in Spider's life had he seen anything like it.

With the satisfaction that Reed was alright, the Ikran took their leave. 

"I think we should camp for the night. I don't want us to be mid-flight and Reed has another reaction," Taliesin said, sounding almost as confident as he did with animals. "Ja?"

"Yeah, kid's got the right idea. And besides, it'll help the newbies settle with their new partners," Ja agreed.

They were going to stay overnight? Awesome!

The Toruk was still there, watching them all. She didn't seem all that bothered, merely observing.

It was weird having one of the scariest predators of the sky chilling out, but it was also cool. 

Karagatan joined Ja and Taliesin, offering her knowledge to help them calm Reed's nerves. Her presence put Taliesin at ease, which was very sweet. She had a motherly aura to her.

No wonder Aukai was such a friendly kid. He had a great mom. 

Sometimes, it felt like she was trying to be motherly to his Dad. Nana Nirveli was certainly treating him like a grandchild, although she seemed to do that with many people. 

"Five outta seven ain't the worst," Miles said, fairly pleased with how it went. "Safer for both parties, too. Damn near broke my knuckles on Cupcake's face."

"You're insane, man," Lyle sighed. "Absolutely, positively, insane. There'll be asylums named after you."

Ooh, this'll be fun.

When it came to watching Lyle and Dad bicker or tease each other, it was always amusing. They acted like a mated pair sometimes. 

"Yeah, but it's why you like me. I make things interesting," Dad grinned.

"That you do, sir," the second in command agreed, his ears twinging slightly. "Alright, I'll get Roz and Rey-Rey to join us on a hunt. A sturmbeest should be good enough for all of us."

"Take Täiayk with you. It'll give her more to talk about to Big Tony." 

"Next, you'll ask that I bring - I'm not calling her that. I refuse."

"Too bad, she likes it."

"I'll revoke your naming privileges."

"I'd like to see you try, Marshmallow."

"You're going to call me that all night now, aren't you?"

"Yes." 

"I hate you sometimes."

"Ah, you love me!"

From how Lyle's tail curled - oh damn, it's true. 

Many things suddenly made much more sense about their dynamic. 

Lyle had a crush on Dad! 

"I'll be sure to give you the ass half, Gumbo," the other Recom chuckled, trying to hide what Spider had already seen. 

Looking at their tail behaviour with the new realisation that Lyle liked Dad, it was fascinating to see that Dad's tail wasn't showing rejection. The fur on the end hadn't puffed out, nor did it lash. It was reciprocating and even copying how Lyle's moved.

Despite this, Dad appeared completely unaware. Perhaps not unaware, more unable. 

His Dad had a lot of issues. It was entirely possible that, due to his history, he wouldn't allow himself something like a romantic relationship that wasn't platonic or familial — never had Dad ever mentioned any past relationships in that way. Not a girlfriend or anything.

Even Mom was only a friend. It didn't go further than that.

There's the possibility that none of this was correct, but in his heart, he knew it was. 

"You alright, monkey man?" Dad asked, ears flicking upwards. 

"Yeah. I just wanted to ask a few questions. Can we sit down?"

"Absolutely. Think I pulled something during Kara's ritual. Dang back's killin' me."

Even when sitting down, his Dad was a giant compared to him, and Spider was far from short. He's taller than Dad was when he was a human.

They watched Lyle go off with the mini hunting party. It was amusing to see Täiayk adjusting to being so high up. 

Cupcake lay down behind them, her wing against their backs. She rested her head in Dad's lap, choosing to go for a nap. 

She was a good auntie and was great at making Dad feel more at ease. 

Spider couldn't go straight into his suspicion, but there were other things he'd like to know. And he knew that his Dad would be as open as he could. 

He'd skip over family questions, as they seemed very painful. 

"What was it like? Louisiana, right?"

"Yeah, good ol' Louis. Much like all of Earth, it sucked. Weren't always that way, though." 

"Oh. What was it like before it sucked?"

"Back long before my granddaddy was born, it was full of swamps and bayous - if they weren't all drained, I would've been born smack dab in the middle. However, when I was born, the land was dry and barren. It was hot, too; you could cook an egg on the floor at night. The air was so dry it cracked your lips, so thick it stuck to your throat like smoke. Not a nice place."

No, it didn't sound like it.

"Didn't you have masks?"

"Nah. Not for the regular folk. Only the rich got good air, water that didn't make you sick, food that ain't got all kinds of mould and rot - but I had it better than most. We had a roof. Collapsed, but it kept the acidic rain off us most of the time. Never forgot the smell. Kinda like burning rubber mixed with antiseptic."

Earth sounded terrible. No wonder so much of humanity is desperate to live here. He knew it was bad there, but acidic rain? That was ridiculous. Being so specific about the smell was nauseating.

Pandora was a dangerous place, but at least it was natural. None of what happened on Earth was supposed to be that way. It was all manufactured, just as the RDA had intended to do to Pandora.

It got hot sometimes, but never enough to cook an egg on the bare floor. And Spider always had good masks, supplying clean and healthy air. 

He didn't know what rain smelled like. But he liked to think it was better than the Earth's version.

"All of Earth was like that?"

"No, a few places were worse. Nigeria made Louisiana look like a damn vacation - did three tours there. The sandstorms would have glass in 'em from being so hot, especially in the summer. Fuck me, were those unbearable. Skin cancer was a guarantee."

Spider had only seen cancer a handful of times. He was told, "Cancer is a disease that happens when bad cells stop the good cells from doing their job," but it was more than that. Vicious, even. The humans that sided with the na'vi had limited resources, so they couldn't always manage it.

Amber Gann died from cancer in her bones. It was hard to watch someone die like that. She looked skeletal near the end.

Preston Myers' avatar developed cancer thanks to the human DNA. There wasn't any treatment for it, but Preston was adamant that he would fight it. He didn't react well to Jake and Mo'at deciding it was best that the avatar be "decommissioned", and he killed himself.

Those were the top examples he could think of.

"Did you ever have it?"

"Sarcoma. Since actual treatment was expensive, we'd get a hot knife, some alcohol and cut it out ourselves. I helped a guy cut out his tongue because it'd gotten cancerous once. Some people cut off whole limbs. Nate and I carved out a leg for a gal back in the Amazon - she didn't get to use it long, but the effort was there."

The casualness of it was just sad. Very sad. 

Only influential people got the opportunity to have anything. They had no healers, no protection, absolutely nothing. If you weren't born into privilege, you died a horrible death. 

Or you died like the Quaritch family, whose crime was only being on Rafael Holland's radar. 

Spider wanted to talk about that. 

The monster that made his father so anxious and see so little of himself. They shared a lot in common in that regard, seeing themselves as lesser than they were. 

"I overheard it. Where the name came from."

The silence was deafening. 

It was a significant point of pain for his dad. He was even younger than Lo'ak when it happened, another reason why he didn't want Spider anywhere near combat. 

"You alright?" he asked, prioritising how Spider felt. Spider knew his dad wasn't alright. He was hurting a lot, but thought that he had to shoulder that burden alone.

Another thing that Rafael would've caused, that evil bastard.

"I'm more worried about you. Did you even want to be a soldier?"

That was a dumb question. It's not like Rafael gave either him or Nathaniel a choice.

"Miles, out of all the bullshit in my fucked up life, you were the first where I had a real choice. I wouldn't have you any other way. If being a soldier is what it took to have you, so be it."

That was heartwarming, hearing his father speak so lovingly about him. He wanted to grab the giant blue idiot and squeeze, but Spider was stupid. His dad completely dodged the question.

The likely answer was no, he didn't want to be a soldier. Probably never considered it before Rafael came. 

It took literal death for his dad to get a chance at being alive, to choose his destiny rather than more powerful people deciding for him and using him like a tool. 

The RDA were trying very hard to fill that void. However, Pandora was stronger. The freedom of the sea was more than their concrete prisons could ever offer.

"I hope you're talking to somebody."

"Lyle's determined. He'll probably get a rendition of where the good ol' name Quaritch came from. Among things that I don't think I could ever pass to you - bad enough you know this."

There was a fairly big reason why Lyle was determined. Even so, Dad wasn't seeing it. Not yet, at least. 

"That wasn't your fault. You were just a little kid."

Younger than Lo'ak. The same age as the girls. If Robin or Jesse got forced to do something like that, Dad wouldn't be nearly as dismissive. 

"Don't wash away the blood, Spider. Any death you cause weighs on you. You might not notice at first, especially when deserved, but it builds. That name is a reminder that any life I take better be for a damn good reason, or at least as quick and merciful as I can."

"Doesn't mean you can't be a Taylor as well. You're one of us."

"Us?"

"Taylor-Socorro. I'm the best of both."

"You certainly are... Maybe someday I can earn that right, but Quaritch will never go - just as the sun has to rise, we need reminders of what lines we don't cross." 

"Then it can be like mine. Spider. My name's still Miles, but everyone calls me Spider. You're a Taylor, but you're still called Quaritch. Is that an alright compromise? I'll be all sad if you don't."

"You threatenin' me?"

"Yes."

"You are just like your mama... Alright. A compromise it is." 

A slight victory. Even if Spider didn't get to the specific thing he wanted to know more about, that could wait for another day. 

It's best to ask Scarlett's help. She'd know how to help with things like this because he wanted his dad to be happy. She had a mate, so she should know how these things come together.

Dad deserved someone who would look after him. For all that Dad took care of everybody, he was terrible at taking care of himself. 

Lyle was loyal, determined, understanding, patient, and he was wonderfully paternal. He was by Dad's side and couldn't seem happier than when they were together. 

What did Max call it? Matchmaking? Yeah, that sounded right. 

"I think I got a bit of info you might want," his dad teased, his tail tapping against Spider's back. 

"What've you got?"

"The Sullys are with Tonowari and Ronal."

"How do you know that?"

"Shredder and Gwyllgi overheard the kids talking about Lo'ak and Kiri. And Täiayk wanting to come with us so bad kinda gave it away. Given that, for now, the Metkayina are on good terms with us, there's the potential that you'll get to see them again."

That was huge.

He knew where they were. He could see them again, enjoy his friends and show them how much he'd grown.

Spider wanted what his dad and Cupcake had. While he didn't have a kuru, he could still learn their language.

He wanted to fly with Kiri and Lo'ak and to encourage the ikran to express themselves.

He wanted to introduce Delta, his cousins, his human friends, his family - he wanted to share it all with his best friends. 

"I'd like that. And because you're important to me, Kiri would be open to meeting you. Properly, this time. You could tell her all those stories about Grace."

"She'll love how you bit Grace's boob."

"No! Not that! The prank war you guys had. That's funnier."

"I've overheard Reyah giving you a few tales."

"Yeah. You guys were crazy. You sounded like siblings who cared, but still didn't like each other."

"Considering we fucked-"

"Gross!"

"Right, don't mention that. Especially the avatar."

"Especially that!"

"Fully omitted. But I can tell Kiri all about how you were as a baby."

"No!"

"But you were so dang cute as a little tyke. Your hair was so damn curly, too - worse than mine was. It puffed out like a big, fuzzy ball sometimes. It even bounced when you ran around."

"Maybe the hair thing, but nothing else! I forbid it!"

"Alright. How about your new bestie?" Delta? Why would he mention Delta? "You even blush like your mama." 

"I'm not blushing!"

Did this man seriously turn things on Spider?

Here he was, wanting to be nosy and see if his Dad liked Lyle back, and he brings up Delta!

"Well colour me impressed, because them cheeks sure are looking a shade other than tan," his dick of a father grinned, showing his tiny fangs. "I ain't even suggest nothin' and you're getting all hot in the face."

He's such a tease!

It's not like that! She's just cool.

She understands him, she knows what it's like to be a human with a na'vi's soul. She introduced him to his new friends, defended him against Sagaar and helped him acclimate to the ocean's way. 

Delta had taught him some of the Na'vi sign language, and she enjoyed playing Na'vi games. As he didn't have a tail to tug on, she'd occasionally give a gentle pull to his braid. 

He liked it when she smiled. And her tattoos were so cool.

It'd be a lot nicer to think about if his father didn't have a big smirk.

"I don't know anything about people. Human people," Spider relented.

His dad lightly placed his hand on his back, big enough to cover his shoulder blades. His dad had huge hands, but they were comforting. 

"There's a decent chance she doesn't, either," his dad pointed out, which was true. "Do it the way y'all know, the way that has the most meaning. From how Kiri sounds, I bet she'd be thrilled to meet her."

Yeah, she probably would.

He wanted her to like his dad. Deep down, he wanted Kiri to see what Spider did. 

It was still painful that Kiri didn't know who her father was, but he'd be happy to share his. For all that Miles had flaws, being a bad parent wasn't one of them - he made Spider feel heard, wanted, loved, and appreciated. He made Spider feel things he had never felt before.

Spider had cousins. He wanted to share that with her so much. He wanted to tell her how his Dad talked to a toruk, that he shoved his arm in a tsurak's mouth, carried a mermaid, flew on an ikran like he was born to, spoke to tulkun - he could already shoot a bow!

"I want her to meet Delta. I want her to know you. The you that's not in those bullshit stories." 

"Doubt they're all bullshit."

They were. Absolutely. 

Nothing that Jake ever said came even close to the man that Spider was happy to call his father. Well, mostly happy. He wanted to say the words out loud, but they got caught in his throat. It's like he was scared it was all a dream, and saying it would make it all go away. 

The Miles of those stories wouldn't have learned to speak Ikran. The Miles from the stories didn't have emotion besides hate and spite, someone who only wanted to hurt and kill others. Someone who didn't feel remorse or guilt, unburdened by his actions.

Where his father got his "nickname" from alone was proof against the image they painted, especially the last part. It haunted him every day. So did a lot of things, most of which Spider will probably never hear. That was a good thing, too. 

His dad had been through a lot. The few tidbits that Spider had were agonising - the thing with Ellie, what Raf made him do, the dog, how he described Earth. Everything was so soul-destroying. 

Spider knew better than most that being strong wasn't all that much of a compliment, mainly when you didn't have a choice. 

"You're nothing like how they said. Nothing."

"I can only imagine the sheer bullshittery they came up with. Come on, hit me with a few - it'll be funny."

"Really? You want to critique horrible stories about you?"

"Hey, if I'm gonna have tall tales spun 'bout me, they better be at least somewhat accurate or so absurd they're hilarious."

"The hell is absurd?"

"Wildly unreasonable or illogical."

"So, just you, then?"

"I take that as a compliment."

"Of course, you do."

He never wanted his dad to change.

Quaritch couldn't sleep. That was fine; he was used to that.

Cupcake cooed in her sleep, her head pressed against his chest. It was comforting to have her with him, easing all his anxieties and making them bearable. 

Although they didn't originally plan on camping, it would be a good way for the newbies to bond. That was the Deja way after all.

Farah, Dagny and Daithí will make excellent kin. He had no doubts that Rey-Rey would be able to do it, and Roz proved herself to him during the tsunami.

Urmi and Maäpvä will find their place in their clans soon enough. 

He didn't know what Taliesin's motivations were, but the guy loved his animals. There's that sneaking suspicion that he's autistic, but that wasn't a downside - if anything, having someone capable of a unique perspective would be valuable.

For all that Paz had her peculiar interests, she could come up with ideas or solutions they wouldn't have considered. The pattern recognition thing was serious business. 

It's the other two that are having a harder time.

Kane is a mysterious figure. She doesn't talk about herself much, and her walls were higher than his. Whatever her history was, it was a complicated one. 

He's not an empath, but he sensed that she was struggling with herself. There was a disconnect regarding her identity, which angered her. Given how the others ended up as Recombinants, it's doubtful she was a willing participant.

Even they weren't fully aware of what Project Phoenix was, and he had a sneaking doubt that Parker did, either. 

She wasn't ready; it was as simple as that.

He'd need to talk with her eventually.

Reed's situation was odd. He tried, but the tsaheylu scared him. That was fair.

Lopez nearly shit himself in panic when he first joined with Zelda. It's an intense thing. Sharing your mind with another entity took some getting used to. 

The connection was brief and weak. The Ikran had sensed his fear, his panic, his unreadiness for such an immense task. He was entirely unprepared for such a monumental moment. 

An ikran is different to an Ilu.

The Ilu are calm, peaceful beings that have no soul rider. They were content to share their fins with whoever was kind to them. 

The Ikran are proud warriors who will have only one soulmate rider in their life. It's a gigantic commitment, one you can't back out of. Even if the Ikran hate you, they'll stay because they're honourable and loyal to a fault. 

He didn't fault Reed for not realising how different it was. Even after being told, he had no frame of reference.

Fortunately, the Ikran wasn't offended or felt dishonoured by the predicament. They understood that Reed wasn't ready and needed more time. 

If it were Cupcake, she would've ripped his head off. She wasn't as merciful as that male was. 

He loved her all the same. Her ferocity was one of the things that magnetised him to her. 

She was a good friend, a spirit sister. She made for a great auntie with the kids, too. 

Under one of her wings was his little Tarzan, kept warm by her body heat. Knowing he was safe put Quaritch at ease, but not enough to feel relaxed.

Watching the stars is a simple enough way to pass the time, connecting the little dots to make patterns and guessing where Earth would be - it wasn't the worst way to spend it.

There was something off this night. He didn't know why, but he felt eyes on him. Not Ikran eyes, nor the Toruk who'd long left. They didn't feel human or na'vi. 

Just eyes. Like someone was looming over Quaritch ominously.

The stars. They're moving?

Quaritch stood tall, staring up at the shifting strangeness. It was so damn big. He's watched a valkyrie disappear into the expanse of space, so he knew in his britches that it was monstrously huge.

Over time, he slowly began to make a shape, although he could hardly call it that. It seemed more like the pictures of a deep-sea monstrosity than a real thing. 

Moving, swimming, flying, was there any real difference? It's so high, perhaps dwelling in the very atmosphere itself. 

It took a while, but a word popped up in his head.

Not a word, a name.

Tsäìrang.

The piece of scale around his neck was proof that Ngaknay was real. Her giving him a premonition of the tsunami was even more evidence. If she were real, then the others could be, too.

That was Cupcake's god, the Sky Father. 

How big are these kaiju motherfuckers? What are they, exactly? Is it that Eywa has children, or, like the story, are they sentient pieces of her?

Is she even a she? What was she? And if Tsäìrang and Ngaknay had physical bodies, where was she?

Six large opal-like shapes in an arrow formation were frigid while the rest moved, and it took a minute to understand that Tsäìrang was looking at him. 

Not daunting or anything.

A rumble in the wind, a whisper indistinguishable to the caws and bellows of the ikran of the mountains, but he'd learned their language. He understood them.

He understood him.

They aren't words, to be exact. It's intent.

A tulkun, a toruk, a palulukan. Just as the old lady had somewhat forced him to see in her spooky fire. A promise. The promise that the sea, the sky and death are with them - Ngaknay, Tsäìrang and Zietsahui aren't going to be waiting for the last second. Not this time.

That would've been great. That was great. But it's not the most impactful. 

It's that damn pink tree, the Vitraya Ramunong - an invitation. 

He heard wings beating in the cool air, but none stirred. 

Bagel had come back. For all her giant size, she could be quiet when she wanted to be. 

The titan looked towards the pink tree, then back to Quaritch.

It was clear what she was suggesting. 

Spider needed his sleep. It wouldn't be fair to wake him up, and Cupcake had earned more than a good snooze. 

*He is waiting,* the Toruk hissed softly. *I will watch over them for you. The Sky Father decreed it.* 

It was about time he met one of these fuckers. 

For all that Quaritch didn't want to, he relented and climbed onto her back. He wouldn't connect, however. Not only because he refused the Toruk Makto concept, but because she didn't want him to. That was fair enough. 

Bagel was a titanic being, but she could glide through the air as silently as a shadow. That must be where they got their name from - Last Shadow. You never know when a Toruk was nearby until it was too late. 

He didn't regret the nickname he chose for her in the slightest, and so far, she hadn't requested a different one. 

She was fast; there was no denying that. While Cupcake would have more agility, Bagel was a beast, an aerial titan. 

How funny. Sixteen years ago, they were among these very mountains, fighting to the death. And here he was on her back. 

Spider's right. He was absurd. 

All of Pandora was. Perhaps that's what made it so worth saving - is there anything more absurd than being alive? 

Bagel grumbled before she landed at the big pink tree. She lowered herself only slightly, watching him slide down her wing. 

*I will return when it's done, Little Shadow,* she said before taking off again.

What was the Little Shadow thing about?

The tree was a big thing. Not as big as Hometree was, but still, it was a big ass tree. The pink tendril things looked less snake-like in the photos. 

It was one of the most sacred places in all the jungle clans. 

He didn't believe in the whole Eywa thing as a human. He was so damn angry and figured if a bunch of napalm worked on the Ayroa, it'd do the same to the Omaticaya. 

Everyone was angry. Irrational decisions got made in the heat of anger, grief, and a hunger for vengeance, clouding judgment. On both sides, the outcome was a loss. 

That's war for you. In the end, nobody wins, even when the cause is just.

As a man who buried far too many people, he recognised graves. Naturally, he was curious. 

Cautiously, Quaritch approached the small mound. It wasn't like the graves he dug, which were long enough for the person to lie in rest. It was almost circular. 

Thinking back, he was sure Grace had mentioned how they buried their dead, giving back to the world. The size was too small to be na'vi, even na'vi children. 

Spider told him how Sully no longer needed his human body, that he had "gone through the eye of Eywa" and permanently transferred into his brother's avatar body. 

By process of elimination, it was fair to guess that this must be Jake's "grave". Rather odd for it to be out here alone. 

Then again, he wasn't well-versed in burial practices. On Earth, they incinerated you, and you had to pay for the right to keep some of the ashes. It was bullshit. 

Unsurprisingly, the RDA were vultures waiting to swoop on a grieving kid. 

If only Jake weren't isolated from Hell's Gate. There was a chance they could've worked something out, and so many wouldn't have died so horribly. The RDA was always going to escalate things, but still.

He should find his body. It's at the shack, not all that far from here. He could add one of his bones to the songcord. Given that bones got used in jewellery, it'd be badass to wear a bit of his skull. 

Maybe a middle finger bone. That'd be cool. 

Out of the places to bury someone, it was indeed a sight. Beautiful, especially at night. 

The pinkish glow had a welcoming feel to it. Somehow, sticking Quaritch's head tail to the plant was supposed to connect him to the astral plane or whatever they called it. 

Talking to the dead could go on the list of absurd bullshit he's done. 

The dangling cords of glowing pink seemed to have a faint pulse to them. It reminded Quaritch of a heartbeat. 

He brought the kuru towards one of the strands, slightly hesitant. He had no idea what was going to happen. Then again, that was part of the thrill. 

As he did with Cupcake, he dived headfirst into something he severely didn't understand. So far, that had worked out well for him. 

The moment those little, freaky tendrils connected to the tree, the world dissolved around him. It changed from the jungles to the familiar walls of Hell's Gate.

Quaritch had no idea how this was supposed to work. He pondered whether you were supposed to move or stay still. It didn't feel like he was outside, no sensation of moss beneath his feet.

The mind is a weird thing. 

Carefully, he took a step forward. Nothing. Another step, still nothing. Movement was fine. 

Was it like a simulation? Wild. 

Although Quaritch was still in his Recom body, he was the size of his old self to fit in the halls. Or everything was sized up around him. There was no clear way of telling. 

He knew this hallway. He knew all of them. How couldn't he? It was his job.

The door before him opened, revealing what he expected to be there. 

The lab of Hell's Gate. Those silly link beds were all in a circle. In terms of space, it's a poor design, but unsurprising. The RDA loved cutting corners, and they took that literally in here.

Over there was the corner where Reyah had her secret snack stash. She thought she was sneaky, hiding her best halal sweets. 

Holly Dawson liked to sit in that chair and chat with Max Patel about all sorts of stuff, mainly something called Transformers. It involved vehicles somehow. 

The dart board with Karl Falco's stupid face was still there. All the darts had little scratches, etchings of initials. That one was Jocelyn Belova's, Marah Sinabariba had the little striped feathers, and Océane Jaccoud's had a flower instead of a capital O. 

For all the science quacks who directed their frustrations at him, he remembered all of them. He paid attention to everyone at Hell's Gate. Even the most frustrating assholes, he tried. There were a few individuals who were detrimental to the ecosystem that he worked hard to protect, and he took care of them.

They were scared, he didn't fault them for that. 

Frightened people needed something to aim their emotions at, and that was something he was good at. It was one of the few things Rafael unintentionally taught him. Shoulder the blame so they could sleep at night. 

It was too clean, though. There's no smell of coffee, exhaustion, and borderline demented determination for a cause doomed from the start. 

He never understood why the RDA bothered with the avatars. They hated losing money, and the avatar thing was a guaranteed loss. 

Thomas' death was always suspicious. How convenient it was for the aspiring scientist to have a twin brother who was a marine. If he were a crazy quack, he'd jump at the opportunity to see if a twin's avatar was compatible with the other. 

He sounded like a well-rounded kid from the little he knew about Tommy. Unlike Dopey, he already knew his mission - get the Omaticaya to move so the RDA wouldn't massacre them.

A whole load of good that did. 

He'll always be mad at Jake for that. And Grace shouldered the blame as well for pushing that kid so hard. He was so skinny and out of it during that little meeting in the briefing room. It was disgusting. He was so pale, as if he had spent most of the day in that link bed.

That gigantic tree was coming down one way or another. They were going to bomb it whether Quaritch was there or not. He could try to push them out with gas if he went, but there was no guarantee with some other schmuck.

Even when time was more than up, he just about managed to get Grace another hour or so, a last-ditch effort to talk them into running away, but no. They still managed to fuck that up.

He didn't blame Trudy for leaving early. He didn't admonish her for not shooting it down. She wasn't the only one who withheld fire.

Lyle was a bit pissed that they didn't stay, but in the end, he was thankful. He knew some of the kids who were in there. Some, if not all of them, probably died. Not seeing that was a small mercy. 

Quaritch knew that Trudy was more than pissed about it. She was a good woman, someone Paz would occasionally call a sister. A determined lady who didn't waver on her morals, something he respected. 

She wasn't as sneaky as she thought she was. She certainly didn't hide the hickey she got from Dopey, which was undoubtedly a choice. It wasn't his place to say who could do it with whom, but standards are still a thing. 

Fike and Zhang noticed her first. They warned him that she was up to something, and deep down, he hoped she'd try to be a bit better at stealth. 

Having Max use his access card was a good idea. Given that the avatar project got shut down, Max would be leaving anyway - he might as well try to repay the woman who worked with him for over a decade. How long was she on the planet? Nearly thirty years? Something like that.

There wouldn't have been much evidence that Trudy let them out. They could've pretended to have taken her hostage with a gun to make her fly them out. He would have preferred if they had gone that route.

The escape was a shitshow. Poorly planned, way too loud and disappointingly obvious.

Quaritch couldn't just pretend he didn't see anything. If he did, the higher ups would realise he wasn't their loyal dog, which they really should've a long ass time ago. Why they trusted him at all was a mystery, seeing as he wasn't even a willing participant - they grabbed him just before a firing squad. 

Swooping in when a man's at his lowest point wouldn't make them seem like saviours. No corporation gave a shit about some guy that was labelled a traitor to cover up a complete mess. 

He had people to protect. He had to stay in his position so the next guy wouldn't flatten the whole forest for shits and giggles. Unlike with Roland, there wouldn't be a simple way to sweep that under the rug.

Putting on a show, he kicked open the door and shot at that Samson. It was futile. Even if he hit anything important, it wouldn't be enough. At most, the bullets would ricochet, but the chance of anyone getting hit was significantly slim. 

Not slim enough.

Spider told him that she was dead, that it happened before the attack on the big pink tree. He always avoided mentioning how she died.

The omission was loud. 

They always promised that someday, they'd kill each other. In the end, Quaritch kept it.

He hoped it was quick. The woman had suffered enough over the years. 

As if the pink tree was listening in on his thoughts, which it most likely was, a single part of the scene changed. 

There she was, ginger hair and a lab coat with cigarette ash on the collar. Although he was still blue, somehow, their heights matched back when they were both human. The mental fuckery of this place was way to complicated for him even to bother questioning. 

Who's he to say what is and isn't possible? So far, he has accomplished several seemingly impossible things. Coming back from the dead in an alien body was wild. 

If only Nathan had gotten a chance to see this. He would have used Quaritch as a watchtower, like a bearded parrot. 

Could stingbats sit on your shoulder? That'd be a funny image.

In ancient times, particularly during wartime, they used birds as messengers. Something called a pigeon. Quaritch could try a non-technological method of spreading messages between clans. 

Those dorados may be better. Less suspicious given the fact that stingbats weren't usually around the sea. 

The only problem was convincing them to play along. Maybe Quaritch could pay them with fish? 

He'd gotten completely distracted, not noticing that the visage of Grace was no longer looking through one of those little telescope things. She was looking at him. 

She looked tired. That wasn't unusual for her, but it seemed more so now. 

If this worked like Spider said, then this was the personification of Grace's memories. Her soul would've already been reborn as another being, so this was like a ghost. He's still unsure how it all worked, but he had time to figure it out.

Could you contact anybody in here? That's a wild possibility.

Were Fike, Warren, Brown, Zhang and Walker here? Was Paz? Could he contact them whenever he wished, or did you have to wait for them to respond? Did they have a choice?

The memory of them, at least. 

"I don't know you," the phantom said, stepping towards the uncertain recom. "No... I do know you."

Always a smart one, even if a little crazy.

It's not like he could judge, though. He was tiptoeing on entering psychosis almost weekly. 

Their little prank wars were one of the things that helped him stay sane, perhaps for them both.

She never cared much for personal space, but he was used to that.

Out of all the bullshit on Pandora, she was consistent. On occasion, she was consistently crazy, but so was he. 

Grace outstretched her hand, feeling his stripes. As she did, her skin became blue, and her brown eyes turned yellow, the avatar replacing the human image. 

Those small round ears, the pointed nose, Sylwanin's necklace around her throat - damn, that Kiri girl looked so much like her. It's very embarrassing that he didn't see it before.

With a decent scowl, she'd look almost the same. Damn. A mini-Grace.

Despite how much they fought, their kids were the best of friends. How funny. 

The last time he saw this face, her true one, was under very different circumstances. It's impressive she didn't break him with how strong she was. 

Deep in those spheres of amber, a spark shimmered. Recognition. 

"Miles?"

It'd been a very long time for her. For her, Quaritch must be the ghost. 

Perspective is crazy.

"Been a while, Buttercup."

He didn't know where that nickname came from. He only used it because it annoyed Grace. 

Right now, it seemed to do anything but.

She seemed relieved, like she'd missed him. What an odd thing to deal with. 

"You see it now, can't you? That's it's all real."

"The shit I've seen, I ain't smart enough to make up."

If someone told Quaritch that he'd be able to speak Ikran well enough to understand a damn Toruk, he'd call the med team. 

What part of it isn't crazy? 

He flew on her back! It was more of an escort than an actual sharing of flight, but still. How many could say they got a lift from Bagel?

"I didn't notice before how often you made comments like that. Putting yourself down."

"I get enough semi-therapy from Lyle. I got "this guy has baggage" on my forehead." 

A slight understatement. 

He didn't mind talking to Lyle as much. He didn't understand it, but he felt comfortable with the fellow marine. Hell, he felt safe enough that his subconscious allowed him to share a space while he was asleep. Such intimacy had been with him ever since Ellie.

And if he did hit Lyle, then he could handle it. As much as Quaritch would hate himself for it, Lyle would be more concerned about his well-being. They had that in common, being more concerned for others than themselves.

For so long, Lyle had kept his past to himself. His sisters, his mother, his wife and kids - he lost them all. 

He would've given up if Quaritch didn't have an ingrained determination to keep as many of his people alive as possible. He dragged that motherfucker to Hell's Gate, and he'd do it again. 

With hindsight, he won't eat the thanator. It was heinous. 

"Your pattern. It looks like an atokirina," Grace said, tracing the patterns.

Her touch felt so real.

His ears flattened slightly from the discomfort of the contact. 

She was very curious about their cropped shape, tugging at them as a scientist would.

"I ain't one of your root samples."

"Hush, I'm investigating."

"You can do that without tryin' to rip my ear off."

"You're being dramatic. You're fine," Grace dismissed, moving onto Quaritch's little glowing freckles. 

"Don't you play connect the dots on my face."

"Your nose looks like a rabbit's."

"It doesn't!"

"It does."

She flicked his nose for emphasis, earning an annoyed grumble. 

He doesn't look like a rabbit. He's a big alien cat man. 

And he's still got more hair than that freak of nature that Ellie dared to call a pet. He hated that thing. 

"You're bullyin' me - that's my arm, it ain't meant to bend like that!"

"Why are your muscles so large?"

"I dunno how this shit works. Could you not poke me? Ain't one of your little driver quacks." 

"I just can't believe it. After all this time, Quaritch is - not an avatar - what are you?"

"Recombinant."

"A Recombinant. Sounds like a product."

"Feel like they're tryin' to treat us as one. Unfortunately for them, they really should've checked who they went pullin' back from the dead." 

Fuck the RDA and anybody that helped run it. 

He looked forward to burning it all. 

Quaritch had some faith that there were people who would realise they had a chance at a better life and leave the RDA behind. Any who did, he'd help. Those who chose to stay could tell Zietsahui if it was worth it.

There wasn't any peace in killing, but if it was necessary, so be it - Quaritch would sacrifice his soul for his child's future in a heartbeat. 

"If they knew you at all, they would've killed you a long time ago," she agreed. "You might've been worse than me."

"I take that as a compliment." 

"Is that what you're doing? Fighting them from the inside?"

"Workin' on it. We've been sabotaging Ardmore, pointing her goons in the wrong direction and bein' a general pain in the ass." 

A Colonel pain in the ass.

"And humanity, the ones on their way. You know about them?"

"Of course. It's the whole reason Frances is so adamant about "pacifying" folk."

"Eywa wants to be a refuge for humanity. She's seen from our memories how horrible it is there. For now, Bridgehead is the only place they can go."

"And that 'refuge' ain't exactly five stars. Looks more like a prison - a corral for cattle. Before they get here, we gotta eradicate the RDA. Those people ain't got a chance with them still sucking the life outta this place."

"I believe that the aspects agree. The voices being far more active than usual are a sign."

"Voices?"

"Every aspect has a voice, a being to represent them. They're born slightly different to others as a sign."

"Ah, I get it, because they're fucking huge."

"Always a way with words, huh?"

"I ain't wrong. Is that what Kiri is, then? One of these voices? Spider's told me how she has this connection to things. Those woodsprites stick to her magnets."

Grace was peculiarly quiet about that. She was distressed, but he didn't know by what.

It'd explain everything that Spider told him about her, and his son wasn't an exaggerator. Her being one of these voices explained a lot. Which aspect the aspects wanted her to help them communicate was anyone's guess - there are, like, twenty of the things. 

If he were a spooky kaiju, he'd rather have a little thing talk to the other littles, make them less terrified. It's logical. 

Bagel must be the voice of the sky daddy, from how much Cupcake revered her. That was cool. 

A thanator would be Zietsahui's voice, and a tulkun would be Ngaknay's. Going by the vision in the fire and all. 

"Miles. What I'm about to tell you will be a lot to take in."

"I don't like how you said that. You look like you're gonna piss in my coffee again."

He can't even drink that stuff anymore — a true tragedy.

"I did that one time!"

"Five," Quaritch corrected.

At least, that's how many times he was aware of it. 

"Not important!"

"My taste buds would disagree, but whatever, go ahead. You're gonna tell me that the trees can move around or that we got Pandora letiches?"

"Letiche? Fuck sake, you're such a bayou bunny."

That's a new one.

"You can kiss the entirety of my blue-ified ass, Miss fuckin' New York chachmolog." 

"I hate you so much," she sighed, though her words had no bite.

"You missed me," he teased.

The way she shook her head, looking like she bit into something sour, proved him right. And she hated it whenever he was right.

"Now, shut up, because it's vital."

"All ears. What they ain't cut off."

Damn, he missed irritating her. It was one of the few things they could truly enjoy. 

"Eywa wanted a voice, one for na'vi and humans. She saw an opportunity and took it," the phantom said, visibly conflicted. "A voice made from the union of a human and an Avatar."

Oh.

Oh.

Oh shit.

Grace didn't look like she was making one of her jokes or messing around. It seemed more like a burden she had to carry, and she couldn't share such deep information with anyone until now. 

Did that poor girl come in here, asking Grace who her father was, and wasn't allowed to know?

It wasn't safe for her to know. With how nasty they treated Spider, there was no telling what'd happen to her. They'd see her as a demon in na'vi skin, a bad omen or some other bullshit. 

Spider and Kiri felt drawn to each other the whole time, unaware they were siblings. They felt like only the other understood them.

What would they do if they found out? How would they treat her? 

That's excluding how she would feel. Being Spider's sister would be great, but her only experience with Quaritch was a shitshow. He fucked up there, regardless of the fact she was his. 

She didn't know she had awesome cousins, a wonderful aunt, and a whole squad that'd burn down Pandora for her. She didn't know about her grandmother or about who Grace was. 

Kiri didn't know Grace before Roland shot up the school. She didn't know that Grace loved Spider. 

And for her safety, she couldn't. Maybe never. 

"They won't be near her. Never. I won't allow it," Quaritch vowed, ears flicking nervously. "Nobody will know. I'll take that to the grave."

"I know you would. But Kiri deserves to know someday, and so does Spider. And she'll need someone who understands the aspects - the Omaticaya only focused on Eywa, not beyond."

"You admitting they got flaws? Well, colour me impressed, Buttercup."

"Fuck off, Ranger Rick."

"There ain't no time that'll be right for somethin' like this. Sully'll lose his shit. A metric shit ton."

And there was no chance Quaritch wasn't giving at least a black eye for what that asshole did to his baby. 

Neytiri would be worse. She loathed anything from humans and had a real hyperfixation on hating him. That wasn't his problem, but it'd affect his kids. 

If he ever met the Doc that did the vasectomy again, he'd kick them square in the sternum. Complete success his ass.

Even so, he loved his son. He wanted to know his daughter, even though it wasn't safe for him to do so. Not now. 

"He's terrified of you, Miles. Petrified. At times, you were a scary man, and that was before you got big and blue."

"He's got no damn idea how scary I can be. I ain't letting go of what he did to my baby. He ever hurt my boy again, I'm puttin' him back in a chair." 

That was a promise. And Grace knew he'd keep it to the letter. 

His son suffered far too much. 

Quaritch knew the damage a shit childhood can do. He didn't want Spider to feel any of it. The crippling self hate, the damaged psyche, the mental scars - he couldn't let his baby end up like him. 

Sully would pay one way or another for what he did, not only for Spider, but also for what he was pushing his sons into.

Neteyam and Lo'ak were too young to be in combat. The younger, Lo'ak, was his age when he became a child soldier.

Children have no place in battle. 

"Miles. He was a good kid while we were working together. I'm not asking you to forgive him; I'm only asking you to tolerate him. For the kids' sake." 

That was a fair request.

For those kids, that was still their father. And in terms of parenthood, he hadn't seen anything other than what Sully put Spider through. Perhaps Kiri was worshipped? Maybe they cared for her, cherished her, because she was Grace's daughter.

His existence could jeopardise that. But Grace was right; the girl had the right to know where she came from and had more family - she'd probably get along with Robin and Scarlett well. 

Kiri had every right not to want anything to do with Quaritch. He wouldn't argue that. That didn't mean she couldn't enjoy meeting little Finn or quiet Jesse. She had the right to know about Daisy, Nathan, and Ellie. Maybe Lucas, the little psycho.

The business between him and Sully was only between them. The kids had no place. They've all been through more than enough already.

"I won't start it," Quaritch sighed, slightly frustrated. "I won't start it, and I won't kill him, but I'm breaking his nose. For Spider." 

"That's more than fair. And a bit deserved."

There's something they could agree on.

He's missed her. Frustratingly, her absence was loud. 

"I'm sorry. That I killed you."

"It wasn't on purpose."

"Don't change the fact you're a damn ghost. If you didn't die, Spider would've been safe and raised by someone that gave a damn. Or you would've let Parker take him. Fuckin' anything but this." 

"Dwelling on what if is what drives people mad. I wasted a lot of my life with those thoughts." 

He was the last person who needed to hear that. 

"I'll keep your promise. Ain't happy, but I'll do it."

"I know. We're out of time - someone wants to talk to you."

"They can book another appointment."

"Not with someone like this, Miles. Try not being yourself."

"Well, fuck you too." 

"I'll see you again, Ranger Rick."

"Count on it, Buttercup."

And it was gone.

The familiar lab, the dartboard, the halls, all replaced by something far less comforting. 

He knew this place. He was the only one who did. Not even little Bug remembered it. 

It was a place he was glad to be under The Glades. 

The broken walls, the caved-in ceiling, the thick smell of rot and heat, the floorboards that had more splinters than nails. No electricity, no running water, not a semblance of safety. The winds would shake the walls, especially at night. It was a strange thing, watching your "ceiling" swaying.

The only door in the shack that wasn't several plants taped together was the very closet he'd hidden in as his mother died. 

The bed was an overstatement, a crumpled pile of stolen fabrics, repurposed car seats, and hell knew what else. 

Trevor was usually too drunk to be in the bedroom. He'd pass out on the only piece of habitable furniture, his stupid chair, the one that stank of booze and other crap. Possibly literal crap. 

All of them shared that bed with her. It's not like there was anywhere else for them to go. There was a basement filled with so much mould it made the regular air almost tolerable, so thick it felt like it climbed down your throat and took root in your lungs. It wasn't bigger than an outhouse, but Trevor would lock him and Nathan down there for hours anyway.

They were stuck in there for nearly four days at one point. They had to eat the mould, the only piece of moisture available. It's a genuine surprise they survived that. You're not supposed to puke blackened blood. 

Their mother was heavily pregnant with Ellie at that time. She was so worried for them and didn't realise they were even in the shack until Trevor offhandedly mentioned it. 

She cried a lot, holding them both after letting them out. It upset her so much that she went into labour. 

Such things are what he fought so hard to keep Spider from. His boy needed the security that Quaritch never had. 

His daughter, too. That would take a long time to fathom. He had a little girl out there, but for her safety, he couldn't go near her. Despite what Grace wanted, he'd rather she never found out. 

That would be so hard on her. She wanted to know who her father was, but the truth was bitter. She wouldn't find any peace in the answer. 

Spider would be happy, elated. And Kiri would probably like that he was her brother. It's just what they share, who they came from, that would be the issue.

He wouldn't blame her for not wanting to be near him. It's his fault that Grace died. Because of him, she grew up without a mother, much like Spider. 

He wouldn't blame her for hating him. He certainly didn't when Spider was angry and aggressive towards him. 

Hopefully, they wouldn't abandon her over what she couldn't control. That wasn't fair. 

Ellie would've liked Kiri. She would've loved Robin and Jesse, too, and little Finn. She would've been a terrible influence on Spider, but still. 

Nathan was harder to guess. They didn't part on the best of terms. 

They endured a great deal together under this makeshift shelter of nails and planks of rotting wood. It fell apart after Ayani died. That, too, was Quaritch's fault.

Nathan was mistaken for him, even though he had a nice beard and Quaritch wasn't married, nor had he had a kid at the time. He hoped not, anyway. 

Maybe Nathan blamed him for Ellie, too. It felt that way. 

Did he blame him as much as Quaritch did to himself? Blame him for their mother? 

Quaritch's ears perked up, hearing a creak that didn't come from him. He turned, tail rigid with alertness.

A man was standing in the doorway to the bedroom, dressed like a fancy aristocrat. The suit was white, clean, his tie was bright red, and his eyes were an elderly brown. He was an older black man, possibly in his late sixties. 

Quaritch felt a similar shiver in his spine from when he looked at the titanic Tsäìrang. 

At that thought, the "man" wore a smile that didn't reach his eyes — a slight acknowledgement of sorts. There was an "off" to it, as if this was just a mask. 

"For a man so dedicated to the visage of idiocy, you certainly catch on quick," he said, looking deep into Quaritch, seeing past his blue skin and into his soul. "I figured there would be no better location to discuss the future. It's a true testament of our shared endeavours." 

"How in the hell did the RDA never realise you were up there?" Quaritch asked, ears flicking back. "Got some magic bullshit to keep y'all hidden?"

"Magic is but a pretty word to dismiss what you've yet to understand. I haven't the time to explain the intricacies of existing in both the physical and metaphysical planes, but we may choose our perceptibility at whim."

"A lot of big words there, sky man."

"Indeed, and yet, you understand all the same. There's no pretending with me, child. I've watched your memories, seen what you are, seen what Zietsahui did from the very start."

"And what might that be?"

The facade of a human smiled, this one reaching his eyes but only slightly.

That was fairly cryptic and ominous, much like this place.

It didn't feel right, being back in this shack, taken directly from his memory, everything where it was the last time he ever saw it. 

Before Hell's Gate, he never really had a home. Even then, it didn't bring much comfort. 

He already felt uneasy after talking to Grace and discovering that he had a daughter, but this was something else entirely. As far as Quaritch was aware, this entity was the closest to a deity you could get, and he was an asshole.

Most gods seemed to be assholes.

"Sit," the semi-deity said.

There wasn't anywhere to sit but on the floor. 

It felt like a snap of his fingers, and they were in Hell's Gate, specifically his old office. He mainly used it for storage, but Parker was incredibly insistent that Quaritch at least appear not to be a liability.

The form created by Tsäìrang looked comfortable in a chair that Quaritch knew, in his soul, was incredibly stiff and miserable. 

Another point that made him uncanny and unnerving.

Despite being very unsure, Quaritch sat in the opposing seat. He wasn't used to this perspective of his desk, but it was the same, even down to the scratches from where Spider tried drawing on it. 

The memories of all his people who died. They helped put this all together. 

How crazy is that? In a way, these entities had access to a full 3D map of the RDA facility. 

Maybe they possessed more than just Hell's Gate.

"What do you want from me?" Quaritch questioned, observing the false image.

"To do what you do best."

"Fuck everything up?"

"Quite, although not in the manner you're thinking."

"Cryptic."

"The RDA need to go. They're an infection, and thus far, the antibodies have been lacklustre. Eywa's voice is too young, Able Ryder is overworking himself to death, and Sully is a disappointment."

That's one way of putting it. But it's nice to know that Able was still around, probably married to that giant Tipani. 

As a man whose door now swung both ways, he understood in ways he never did before. Fucking hells, Beyda'amo was undoubtedly a fine specimen. Even so, he didn't think the giant was his type. Did he even have a type? 

See, with women, he had fairly decent standards. Were they healthy? Cognisant? Capable of consent? Of reasonable age? Was it something they actively wanted, or was it a stupid dare, because for whatever reason, that was a thing? Plus hazing. 

Alright, maybe he had no standards at all and just kinda rolled with whoever asked. It felt more like a task than actual fun, like fixing up his AMP or fixing Cupcake's tackle - too fixated on not hurting the other party to enjoy it. 

And with Grace, that was just anger. At least with her avatar, he couldn't hurt her if he tried. If anything, it was impressive that he didn't break anything. 

Lyle would know better about this sort of thing. He's been with men before. He'd know what you're supposed to do, if there's much difference at all. 

You can't have an accidental baby with a man. At least, he hoped not.

"I take it you want me to be what Sully couldn't."

"He needed Bagel, but a symbol is nothing without meaning behind it. You already have one that rouses and blooms conviction. My voice wasn't necessary at all." 

So, Bagel is the one that Sully rode. That explained the numerous bullet scars and her general dislike of him.

The symbol of the Toruk, especially the females, was a powerful thing on Pandora. Just the sight of someone on their back had them supposedly chosen by Eywa. In his opinion, that was stupid.

Surely, people in the past have spoken to the Toruks, asking their blessing to share their mighty wings. 

"Maybe at Hell's Gate, those scars meant somethin'. Not out here they don't."

"Oh, but they do."

"And who might that be, all-knowing one?"

The sarcasm was moot, given that this creature was probably on some level omniscient. 

But Quaritch couldn't grasp the idea that people would know him or bother to remember him in any positive way. He didn't even see himself like that. 

What could those stupid scars mean to the na'vi people? Other than the face of the man who ruined their homes. 

Good thing Nathan wasn't on Pandora, he'd be screwed. The beard would save him; it usually did. 

Despite this, the ancient being chose to humour the stupid question. 

"Do you think that Zesìk's family have forgotten how you avenged their child? Or the Tipani in their war against the Ayroa. Most of the jungle, for that matter. The Sarentu knew of you, spreading the tale of the little sky person with palulukan scars, and the Tlalim spread it even further."

Zesìk deserved so much better.

He understood Na'vi so much better now. He could hear it as though it were English. Although the memory of Zesìk was foggy, some of her words weren't incomprehensible anymore.

She called him Stripes. He didn't know back then that she gave such a silly nickname, and it made her horrific death all the sadder. 

Could he see her in this place? Could he talk to anyone who has died? That was wild.

Zesìk's family made some sense, and the Tipani, but he wasn't familiar with the Sarentu. He heard the word from Mercer a few times, but that guy was weird, even for RDA. The Tlalim were wind traders, but he barely knew more than that. He'd only heard of them because Spider had met one called Kukulope. 

If he found a way to contact them, would they join the fight? Not Sully's band of merry men, but the final battle. The one to end the RDA for good. 

It meant taking down the top people. 

With the sheer number of dead people in this place, there was no shortage of information. Somebody knew something, and there was a decent chance that if they didn't, they knew someone who did. 

They'll need to be strategic. And if they're going to be more aggressive and active against the RDA, they need a way to do so without being recognised. 

Quaritch's eagle tattoo was possible to hide with an armband of sorts, but Z-Dog would have a bigger problem. Their Ikran would need a secret tackle and a way to disguise their patterns - there was no doubt that Ardmore had a document for each, albeit dismissing them as mere mounts. That ignorance would be their downfall.

With Sky Daddy's support, the ikran would be allies. Not all of them, but a decent enough amount.

As far as the RDA knew, ikrans only ever had one rider. They had a single soulmate, yes, but a mere passenger is another matter. Having multiple aerial partners would cause confusion and ease suspicion. 

If Quaritch rode on an ikran that looked like Firefly, they wouldn't believe it was Firefly, both because she had Mansk, and personality-wise, she wasn't friendly. Shows what they knew. For all that she was asocial, she was fiercely loyal, much like Mansk himself. 

Masks, armour, probably a lot of paint - the na'vi do love their paints, maybe gloves or something to obscure their little fingers? Whatever hid the fact that they weren't native Na'vi. 

He wouldn't be able to speak. His na'vi was too terrible. The sea people's hand signing would have to do. 

If possible, avoid combat. If necessary, be quick. It'd be best to engage at night. 

He didn't like the pleased expression on the false humanoid's "face".

"There is an island no one goes to. Once home to a great clan, it houses a currently defunct and long-abandoned RDA facility. An opportune location for not only your clan, but your little humans, too - I'm sure they can fix a few things. They'll need it once Frances realises that you're no pet."

The spooky sky man was right. As soon as she knew they weren't playing ball, she'd blow the place to ash. 

She had no qualms about torturing an innocent teenager. What would she do to people who were genuinely against her, perhaps even plotting her end? Nothing good.

A base of operations, somewhere to obscure their alternative agenda from the RDA, and a place to begin gradually evacuating the Psi base. It was a shame, too. He liked that place. 

"I doubt you can send Bagel every time you need a chat. Any of these pink things nearby?"

"Precisely why I chose this very island. We can dub it the River of Souls for the moment - we'll reconvene there," he smirked, lifting a mug that hadn't previously been there in a mock toast. "To eradicating a plague."

Capitalism, greed, selfishness, unchecked narcissism and a disregard for life over profit. There were no anxieties about reducing such a thing to distant memory and lessons learned.

He wanted to ensure that Spider never had a life like his. 

Nobody should have to endure that. No child, current or to be, will suffer under the talons of degenerate cruelty. 

"To eradicating a plague," Quaritch repeated. "You'll have your voice of war."

I introduce you, dear readers, to the Deja Clan symbol!

Miles' old scars, the shark fin for Daisy, and the reference to Scarlett being the Blackfish - the symbol of resistance, hope and classic Deja badassery!

Chapter Text

Well. When Lyle said that Miles could tell him anything, he wasn't expecting that.

No wonder the guy was struggling to sleep for nearly two weeks. He's had that hanging over his conscience for decades.

Jesus Christ, on a motorbike, how could you do that to a kid? What would Rafael even benefit from doing that?

Most likely, it was a form of brainwashing, separating his victim from their identity to forge them into someone else. And it was only four months after watching his mom die.

Eight months later, that motherfucker made him kill that dog. 

Lyle wasn't even there, but he was fuming over it. 

"I might be the only person that remembers that family, that saw them before they died or even cared they were gone. I can't do it. I can't kill those people again."

No matter who said it, Miles couldn't comprehend that he put too much pressure and responsibility on himself. 

Literal decades of having a raving lunatic as your "guardian" drill into you that everything was your fault would do that, though. 

He never had a chance at all. From the moment he and his brother were born, life doomed them to come out fucked up in one way or another. 

Richard Philbrick and Rafael Holland were messed-up monsters. It was a good thing they were dead - Richard was assumed dead after going missing for a while. He could be alive out there, but for Miles' sake, he hoped not.

He's not going to let the name go. It's his only way of mourning those innocent people, a form of penance, even though he was also a victim. 

"I only kept going for them. If they weren't there, I wouldn't have," Miles admitted, referencing his siblings. "Surprised the training didn't kill me."

"No shit. Nobody should be in the Marines at fourteen."

"Not like people saw me anyway - he ran the training."

Oh, for fuck sake.

The absolute anxiety that Lyle heard from those last four words. That could mean anything, and none of it was good.

Lyle trained in the Marines. He was of mostly legal age, made the choice himself, and even then, the training sucked. It was an absolute pain, and he didn't look back at it fondly.

"I take it he went a bit beyond the basics."

"It was a mix of shit. I dunno the specifics. Some of it was SEALs, maybe SAS - didn't join up with others until I was about twenty." 

Six years of that. Alright. It explained a lot of where Miles learned to be fucking scary when he wanted to be, forged to be a monster by an even worse one.

It's genuinely impressive that Miles wasn't a sociopath. He somehow managed not only to stay relatively sane but also to raise three other kids.

From the detached way he said it, Lyle didn't need to ask if it was a difficult task. That was easy to guess, but Miles looked anxious about it.

He was strong, but he shouldn't have had to be. It wasn't something Lyle wanted to compliment because it wasn't. 

It was a tragedy. Heinous, truly.

"I'm sorry, Miles. What he did to you, what he took from you - there's no other man I'd follow into hell, but I wish it were a path you chose. Not something forced." 

"I got nothing to add to that."

"You don't need to. I know you think low of yourself, but I don't. If anything, I respect you more - you got every reason to be a bitter bastard, but you're not. Under all that grump, you're a good guy."

"Got low standards there."

"Miles, your lack of self-esteem is almost as impressive as your sanity."

"I take that as a compliment."

"Oh, that's a compliment you can take! You're impossible!"

"It's why you like me."

More than Miles would ever realise. 

It wasn't even about physical attraction anymore, despite there being a lot of that - the guy was just incredible. The things that Lyle had seen over the past nearly thirteen years with the man were nothing short of amazing.

Fighting a thanator on the first days, being an absolute menace to the RDA officials without them realising, keeping Hell's Gate as safe as it could be, talking to banshees - he was full of all sorts of crazy surprises. Who in the hell would dismissively mention that they've carried a mermaid as though it were a regular Tuesday?

What motherfucker just talks to a gigantic space dragon and names them Bagel? 

If Lei Fan were still alive, she'd be fighting Lyle to get a piece. 

Whiskey enjoyed watching his memories of her, Matthew, Xiang, and Mei, as well as his mom and sisters. He liked Jenny the most. 

All of them would've loved Miles. And with how incredible Miles was with people when he wanted to be, he'd easily become Jenny and Xiang's favourite. 

Lyle could already picture his mom dragging the poor guy to the dinner table and forcing him to eat something "healthy". Her cooking always bordered on a new form of radioactive element, but Abigail usually saved the day and their stomachs. 

In comparison, which was somewhat unfair, Lyle had a good life. For all that he lost, they were wonderful times when they were still alive. 

That wasn't something he could say about his crush, the biggest he had since Lei Fan. 

"I got somethin' else I need from my chest. It's - I dunno how I feel about it yet."

"That could mean several things, but I'm glad you're open to telling me."

Seriously. The possibilities were endless, and they were always traumatising somehow. 

"Yeah, so, remember how I and Grace got so pissed at each other and everything going on that we kinda fucked in that school house?"

Where was this going?

"Let me guess. Major regrets?"

"Eh, kinda, but it's more... uh, you remember that she had a kid...?"

"Miles. Are you saying-"

"Yeah. I went to that pink tree last night. Grace told me. Struggling with it a bit."

Kiri was his daughter. Holy shit. 

Lyle felt shitty enough for holding a knife to Grace's kid - the woman was like a sister sometimes, but she's Miles' daughter as well? Fucking hell!

Spider's best friend was his half-sister. Thank fuck he didn't have a crush on her.

No damn wonder Miles had seemed off all morning; he had just found out he had another kid! 

And there's also the fact that he spoke to a ghost. That's fucked up.

Well, no amount of joking would wash away the anxiety from something like that.

There wasn't any reason for Grace to lie. If she could choose anybody to be the father of her child, it wouldn't be Miles. It must've been from that freak night when they got so mad that they angrily fucked in the old school house.

What a wild place for conception, a run-down shack where your adoptive aunt got murdered. 

Lyle could see why it would weigh a lot on Miles' mind. He had a daughter out there and couldn't tell anybody else.

They treated Spider terribly. What would they do to that poor girl? She didn't even know.

It looked like Miles wanted to keep it that way. He could understand that. 

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

"Not much to talk about. Doesn't change much."

"You have a daughter. That changes a lot."

"The best I can do for her is keep them in the wrong direction. Grace wants her to know the truth, and I gotta respect it, but after what they did to Spider - I won't let that poor girl ostracised by her family over somethin' she couldn't control."

"Are you going to tell Spider?"

"Spider has the right to know that Kiri's his sister. I'm not sure how I do it." 

"I could be there with you. So you're not burdening all this on your own. No offence, Miles, but that hasn't worked well for you thus far."

"Hm. You're probably right. You're like my emotional support marine."

"Aww. I'm touched. Do I get a high-vis jacket?"

"You glow in the dark. What else do you want?"

More than he could ever ask.

Miles feeling comfortable enough with him to share something this huge was genuinely touching. It felt like they were growing closer, but Miles had his walls up - being vulnerable was hard for him to do, but they were getting there. 

What Lyle wouldn't give to wrap that man up and promise he'll be by his side until the sun explodes. Someone who won't turn and use him like so many others had. 

If Lyle found out he had a daughter, especially with someone who'd abused his son, no creature alive could stop him from getting to them. Although it was a difficult decision, Miles was keeping a distance to keep her safe, even if it was visibly uncomfortable for him. 

Despite all the horrors of the man's life, he was a good father. 

While Lyle didn't know Kiri very well, only knowing stories from Spider, he wouldn't doubt that Miles would be good with her. They didn't meet great, but neither did he and Spider, and you can't separate those two now. 

In Lyle's dreams, he's right next to that walking natural disaster, more than willing to be a co-parent. He'd be excited to tell Kiri about Grace, their time in that school, and her prank habit. 

But that's where it had to stay.

He loved him. He loved Miles deeply, more than ever before. However, the simple fact was that Miles would need a long time to feel safe enough even to consider something like a relationship. 

Miles' most emotionally intimate change in decades was sharing a room with someone else. He hadn't been able to share a space since what happened with his sister. 

In the future, after they've had time to settle into their new lives, there could be a chance. If not, Lyle can stay as a deeply caring friend. 

Somebody has to be supporting this man's emotional well-being because he sure as shit wouldn't — more like couldn't, thanks to decades of deep brainwashing from a literal monster. 

If Earth had a god, they spent their remaining efforts keeping Lyle's best friend from becoming a raging psychopath. 

Cupcake helped a lot. Her presence alone could calm the man. She knew more than anyone else and hadn't uttered anything, keeping those secrets deep in her heart. 

If anyone was the emotional support, it was her. She was the closest Miles had to a therapist. 

He couldn't say that for Whiskey, but the silly guy had his ways of putting Lyle at ease. The sheer, eager goofiness reminded him of the good times before Jake ruined it. 

"Why is it so much easier talking to you than others?" Miles asked, catching him off guard. "It's not as daunting. I dunno."

"Part of my irresistible charm."

"Certainly got a lot of that, chèr." 

It did things to Lyle whenever Miles used his original Cajun accent, speaking Cajun French. Nobody knew what his first language was.

The top three contenders were Cajun French, English, and Hebrew. Jade alerted them to how he could speak it better than she could, the rare times he did. It could be all three.

Who knows how many he could speak? It's not a shock that one would be hard. It was a little funny that he spoke Ikran better than Na'vi.

"You're an intriguing man, Miles."

"Speaking of intriguing, I might've also spoken to the sky daddy last night - Bastard interrupted my chat with Buttercup," Miles said dismissively.

"One of these days, you're going to lie to me, and I won't realise because what the fuck did you just say to me?"

In Lyle's defence, that's a fair reaction. These aspects are as close to deities as they can get.

"Essentially, Tsäìrang is supporting us. He even gave us an island location where we could settle down. We can probably expect the other aspects to get involved, too."

"Are you the chosen one now?"

For a few seconds, Miles froze. Whether it was one of those PTSD moments or he had an idea, Lyle couldn't know.

Whatever it was, he shook it off.

"Do you know if there's, like, a definite way not to have kids again? For Recoms?" Miles asked, which was entirely reasonable. 

The poor guy had two kids he never intended to have. At least with Spider, he was aware and there for him, but Kiri had no idea. 

A super vasectomy was in order. 

"Probably, but maybe wait a while. We're only twenty. Who knows - in another twenty years, you might want a baby again and get to be with them all their lives this time."

The last part was unnecessary, and he regretted saying it. However, it resonated with the other man. 

He didn't get to be there for Spider, and he didn't live long enough to even find out about Kiri. If he hadn't died, he could've been there for them both.

Lyle had many conflicting feelings there. He used to enjoy seeing little Neytiri at the school, even showing her, Tsu'tey and Sylwanin how to make paper aeroplanes. Out of them, Tsu'tey made some mean-ass paper aeroplanes. One even hit Grace in the eye once.

That same little girl who used to hide behind her older sister turned and mistreated Lyle's godson. There wasn't any forgetting that. 

"Guess it's a good thing nobody's requested me. Seem to be real damn potent on this planet."

The wording struck Lyle in many concerning ways.

Miles visibly soured at Lyle's displeased scowl.

"You know what I'm gonna say."

"It ain't a big deal."

"No. Because I know who caused most of your problems, I've got a pretty good idea where "requested" actually comes from."

"Saves me the trouble then, doesn't it?" Miles hissed defensively. 

Rafael Holland and his buddy Richard had connections to a certain "marine" academy known as Rutherford, a place that got shut down due to its abhorrent practices. 

It was where you made monsters. People like Justin Roland went there. People who went in came back out as inhuman things.

The stories from that place were nightmare-inducing. The infamous "interrogation" course alone was enough to scare people. A team of surgeons was always on base to remove the scars from those sessions.

Hours, sometimes days, of nonstop interrogations performed by and on cadets. They got taught the most effective ways to make people talk and how to stay silent. Some people bit their tongues out. 

Suicides were almost as high as the "accidents". 

Beatings, killings, starvation, interrogation, rumoured surgeries, lethal training, and the reason it got shut down, the rampant sexual abuse. 

It was even encouraged among the cadets to assault each other. The director would watch and even join in. 

One of Lei Fan's cousins went to that place. She told him about it one night, how Jun Hie was a broken mess who said that specific word. Requested. 

The more that Lyle learned about this man, the more he hated Rafael. 

"I shouldn't have lashed out like that," his friend sighed, ears flattening. "It was a long time ago. I'm over it."

"That thing where you don't like initiating things. It's from there, isn't it?"

"Paz tell ya that?"

"She was asking for advice. But I'm right, aren't I? That you were at Rutherford."

"I don't remember most of it anymore. Focusin' on my sisters, on Nate - I would've died without knowin' they needed me. I'm surprised I didn't when I was all alone. I guess it was just an old habit, refusing to lie down and give up. Stubborn might as well be my middle name." 

Debilitatingly depressing. 

Has he never been with anyone willingly? Had he only heard someone ask for some "time" and gone with it, turning off like you would when cleaning your rifle or fixing up your amp suit?

No wonder Paz sometimes felt bad about the friends-with-benefits arrangement; it seemed like only she was getting any benefits.

"Have you ever said no?"

"Never really thought about it. It felt like a chore or a natural relief, like how massages sometimes help. I didn't look for it - to be honest, a lot didn't appeal to me. Most of it seemed miserable." 

"Do you think it's from the trauma, or maybe you weren't attracted to people?"

"I... never considered that. Not being attracted to people. No, I don't think I was. Nobody was appealing before. It was just women who asked. Guess I just assumed I was straight." 

There are more conflicted feelings.

If Lyle ever did pull his boots up and ask, then Miles probably would've gone with it, even though he didn't want to. 

Thank fuck Paz was dead. She'd hate to learn about this. 

This whole time, the poor bastard was asexual, and he had no idea. 

"Must be why I'm more confused. I think I am attracted now, but I ain't got a frame or reference or anythin'," Miles continued, thinking on it more. "I don't think I'm bi. Ain't thought of a woman at all. Remember that Beyda'amo guy that Able hooked up with? I think that's interesting."

No lie there. 

"Congrats, man, you're gay."

"Yeah, congrats to me. Now I got interest, it happens to be the one damn gender I never engaged with. Dammit. You and Prager went out with men. How is it?"

That's a fair question, but it's awkward given the whole, Lyle being stupidly in love with the idiot.

Every time he thought Miles couldn't be more messed up, he learned more. This poor motherfucker. 

It's a genuine act of God that the man wasn't an insane psychopathic monster. He really should be. 

No wonder he snapped when they went for that pink tree. If it were Lyle, he would've gone crazy ages ago. 

Scoresby was right. The man was hanging by a thread constantly but was keeping it somewhat together because people relied on him. That was too much pressure. 

"Depends on what you're into. It's different with these bodies, though. A lot more potent, pleasure-wise."

"I don't know if I'm into anything. I never really had the, well, anything to look into it. I know the basics - I did before turning blue."

"Biologically? Probably. Intimacy? Not at all. Sorry, Miles, but you've got negative experience in that."

"Yeah, you're the first person I've been able to sleep next to since Ellie died. Ain't that sad."

"I'm glad you trust me that much."

"Even after all this, you still don't think I'm a damn broken mess?"

"We're broken men, no denying that. If anything, I'm just glad that you're you, Miles - got every reason to go psycho and burn the universe for what it did to you, but here you are, making deals with a damn sky god, talking to space dragons and carrying mermaids. The only part of you I'd ever want changed is how you look and treat yourself."

Telling somebody who has a debilitating low self-esteem that you wouldn't want them to change was overwhelming. Sure, there were a few things that Lyle wanted to help improve, but he loved the man for who he was at his core. A guy struggling to stay a good person despite having good reasons to go psycho.

Out of anybody, Lyle wouldn't judge Miles at all if he snapped and went wild on someone. The fact that he hadn't yet was a testament to his character. Whoever was on the receiving end of decades of pent-up trauma and displaced rage wouldn't walk away alive.

Directing all of that at the RDA was his primary plan. It wasn't a bad one, either.

Lyle wouldn't mind watching the top brass get turned to sludge under his Colonel's wrath. It was well-earned, after all.

Miles was struggling to articulate what he had said. So many years of Rafael breathing down his neck, convincing him he was worthless and nothing, that he was a hindrance, all things that Lyle wanted to burn away. 

If Lyle could, he'd summon the Ghostbusters to remove that hideous phantom. 

"But I'm a pain in the ass! Stubborn, occasionally stupid, far too lucky for my good, angry, nervous, have those stupid freeze moments, bossy, a nasty grudge holder-"

If Lyle let him, he'd never stop listing off the supposedly terrible traits of his. He had flaws, but everybody does. That didn't take away from the years of good he'd done.

Lyle gripped the other man's shoulders, forcing his attention onto him. Even when distressed, Lyle couldn't help but feel magnetised to those giant yellow eyes, those cropped ears, that rabbit-like nose, even that little spot usually hidden by his throat comms. 

There weren't many times when they looked their physical age, but this was one of them. 

"You're the kindest leader I've ever been under, especially in the RDA. Loyal, empathic, determined, decisive, courageous, inspiring - the list goes on. Yes, you have flaws, but they're well outshone. You saved us by being you - got Mansk sober, helped Warren find himself, taught Bruno how to read English, bought that dumbass Sully the surgery to get his legs back after barely meeting him, and the list goes on. Anyone would be lucky to have you, baggage and all." 

Words from the heart, the soul, all with sharp and hot truth. 

He could smell the salt before seeing it. 

Before Lyle knew it, Miles was holding him, arms around his ribs and face hidden in his shoulder. Being told that by someone trusted enough to share a room with after decades of isolation was too much to bear.

Man, he forgot how strong Miles was. If he wanted to, he could potentially break Lyle's ribs. It was only fair that he hug back, tight and secure, the latter of which his best friend had lacked for far too long.

Despite it all, what he wouldn't give to hold on and never let go. 

"Ne me quitte pas..."

Lyle wasn't the best at Cajun French, but he knew enough of regular French to get the idea of what he'd heard.

"Not in a million lifetimes. You're stuck with me, sky guy."

Chapter Text

"I am sorry, brother," Neteyam said softly, feeling Taha's scales under his hands.

Neteyam didn't want to be here any longer. He was struggling so hard to be the good son, the obedient one, the responsible one. He wanted to go home, to see his grandmother and feel the winds of the mountain.

He wanted to see Sänaìn.

The prodigal son of Toruk Makto had to be perfect, so very perfect. There could be no mistakes, no mishaps. Everything had to be just right. 

Don't make eye contact for too long, but also don't look away too soon. Posture always had to be correct. Breathing controlled. Hair in the exact, precise place. The weapons must have no imperfections, indicating no signs of failure or weakness. 

Keep your tongue heavy in its cave, opinions swallowed down, words kept inside. No objections. No questions. Always follow to the letter.

Listen to your elders. Do whatever they say. Do everything expected of the future Olo'eyktan.

What do you do when that's not possible anymore? 

Neteyam didn't have a shot in the sky of being the Omaticaya's Olo'eyktan. Not anymore. The thing they groomed him for his entire life got taken away in an instant. Even so, the expectations didn't leave with it. If anything, it felt like his mother and father expected even more from him.

Whenever he was the bad son, he didn't have the crushing weight that made his chest tight. Whenever he was with Sänaìn, he felt like he was more than the son of Toruk Makto. 

Sänaìn was everything his parents disapproved of. He was a rambunctious guy, a silly person who worked incredibly hard to make Neteyam's mask falter. A jester, a childish buffoon, but he saw more than even Neteyam was willing. 

When Neteyam felt alone, Sänaìn would coincidentally be nearby, being a fool. 

When Neteyam was hungry but couldn't get more out of fear of being greedy, Sänaìn would coincidentally ask him to finish his share. 

When Neteyam hid his injuries in fear of being seen as a failure, Sänaìn would coincidentally hand him some medicine with that stupid smile.

The one that creased his cheeks, making his stripes point up to his big, warm eyes. The pair that didn't look away when the light hit Neteyam a certain way, revealing that the left had a greenish tint, a disgusting imperfection. 

Never did Sänaìn stare at Neteyam's painfully flat teeth, nor at how he had a small fourth knuckle on his left hand for a digit that never developed. 

When Neteyam was afraid and had to hide it behind his well-kept facade, Sänaìn would be the one to express fear for him. 

Neteyam never asked this, nor expressed such a desire for another's aid. He also couldn't tell Sänaìn to stop, not that the fool would heed his words.

Since moving out here, Neteyam had never been so alone. He wasn't allowed to fly on Taha and see his grandmother - his father forbade it. He forbade ever leaving the reef, especially after Lo'ak bonded to Payakan. 

Taha loved to fly. And while Neteyam was supposed to be the perfect flyer, the perfect rider, he couldn't help but indulge in the bond, to share his fears with the ikran he sometimes called brother.

He wanted to fly with Sänaìn.

But that wasn't in Neteyam's future. Someday, his mother would decide who his mate would be, and thus far, it wouldn't be any of the Metkayina. 

It was as though Neteyam's duty was to raise Tuktirey and nothing else. At least before, he had a purpose, but no more.

No purpose, no flying on Taha, no silliness from Sänaìn - nothing.

In the sea, Neteyam had nothing but blood shared with a brother he'd practically raised, a sister who was irritated with him, and a girl he felt more like a father to than a sibling.

There were days when Neteyam dreamed of leaving, of finding Uturu elsewhere, of finding a life for himself.

Some were of him fleeing to Sänaìn and asking that they fly away together, never to be seen again. Would that be so terrible?

Only a vile, horrid, disgusting failure of a good son would yearn for such a thing. And yet, it clawed under Neteyam's skin. 

There was guilt, too - Neteyam held much of it in his heart for his failings, but how his sister scowled at him sometimes made it worse.

He could've grabbed Spider, and she knew it. 

They were friends once. He, Lo'ak and Kiri would play with Spider at the creek without fear, without pressure, where the only eyes that mattered were theirs. 

But his mother loathed the human child. She despised him with her very soul. It was the duty of the good son to do as his mother wished, so he stayed away. 

He missed it. He wanted to join in, to share the laughter of his younger siblings, but he had lessons. He had to be the good son, the older brother, the good elder. 

Good sons don't cry from loneliness, good sons don't want to elope with their crush, good sons don't defy their father, good sons don't behave like failures.

Neteyam was a good son. He had to be. Without it, he was nothing but hollow flesh. 

The good son says goodbye to Taha, no matter how dearly he wishes to fly away.

The good son puts on his mask, no matter how much it weighed down on him.

The good son did as told, no matter how the words grated against his soul.

The good son felt empty, no matter how many lies he told himself.

The lies that it'd get better soon.

The bad son was angry and burning with the urge to leave, to make a path of his own, to escape his father's suffocating shadow. 

The bad son wanted to fight and argue, to make his presence known and acknowledged, to be more than mere evidence of his parents' mating. 

The bad son hated the sea. 

The bad son felt bitter jealousy towards his younger brother for getting away with far more than Neteyam could ever dream. 

"I will see you tomorrow," Neteyam sighed, pressing his forehead to Taha's. "Rest well, brother."

Taha cooed, bringing his kuru to Neteyam's chest, just over his aching heart. If he relented and joined, then he wouldn't be able to stop himself from leaving.

From being the bad son, the disappointment, the failure. 

Neteyam was a failure under the guise of a good son. 

The smell of fish grew tiresome, but there was little else for Neytiri to eat.

It wasn't safe to leave the reef. But then again, it was never secure. Nothing in Neytiri's life was safe. 

She lost her father, her sister, her best friend, her teacher, her home, her home for a second and third time - how much more must Neytiri lose? How much would the Great Mother take from her?

No longer did Neytiri have the comfort of her mother's presence. She missed talking to her mother, expressing her fears and frustrations. 

Her Jake bore many burdens she couldn't begin to understand, scars left from the sky people's world. 

It was so hard to leave. It hurt every day, awakening in this place and not where she belonged. Her heart was of the forest, and yet, she'd gotten stranded at sea. 

They had to flee, that's what she and Jake told themselves. They had to go to protect the Omaticaya. 

The lie didn't last long. Soon enough, the sky people came to the sea, looking for them and tormenting the innocents. More people lost their homes and families as she had. 

How was she meant to sleep when others suffered?

Not that Neytiri had many nights of peace to begin with. 

Some were of the day her sister was shot to death. She, too, would've died if Grace's funny little bald friend hadn't killed the demon that stole her sister. 

He was a nice one, teaching Tsu'tey how to make the aeroplane paper things to annoy Grace. He'd even snuck her some food when Grace did her tour of the demon's home, the Hell Gate. 

She had dreams of when Tsu'tey died, put out of his agony after falling from unfathomable heights. The last who truly understood her pain from that schoolhouse was gone, leaving Neytiri alone with the nightly hauntings.

There were dreams of her father. There were times she missed, and others when he blamed her for nearly losing their people.

Some mixed. Not always consistent with what happened, either. 

She'll never forget the terror she felt when even a palulukan was not enough to kill that demon. In that metal skin, he killed it with no fear or hesitation. She felt the knife pierce her heart through the bond, and if the old tales were true, it wasn't the first he'd slain.

There was a story that the marks on his face were from a palulukan. She didn't want to believe it, but it was as though he'd stolen its spirit to be reborn.

She looked into the creature's eyes, yellow instead of that frighteningly icy blue. She felt sick when she saw his tanhì pattern, how much it mirrored Kiri's. It made her want to kill him all the more. 

If she had been a mere moment late, her Jake would've perished, and she would've raised Neteyam alone. The hands of a sky person nearly took away another person close to her heart.

And to think that Jake wanted to keep the spawn of that creature, the Spider child. 

The little sky person named Parker pleaded with Jake to let him take the boy, to go back with his kind and be with family, but Jake refused. 

It didn't matter what she, Norman, Max or her mother said. Her Jake chose to keep it. Not long after, however, he abandoned it to the sky people who chose Eywa, although she never accepted them. 

Many didn't. The little creatures would always be sky people, no matter how much they pretended. They weren't like Jake, her heart, a fool that was truly reborn. 

She didn't want history to repeat, for the spawn of the demon to take her children away. It always got too close to her daughter, her sweet Kiri. She hated it. She loathed their bond, how they were as close as she and Sylwanin had once been. 

Deep down, Neytiri couldn't forgive Jake for keeping it. She wished he had either given it to the Parker or left it to nantang to feed. 

And the little beast was back for revenge, helping the reborn monster hurt others. 

She yearned to take Tamek and hunt them down. Not even Eywa would take such loathsome creatures. 

No matter what, Neytiri just wanted to have a moment of peace. But it would never come. Danger was always lurking, haunting her, waiting until she felt safe so it could strike. 

She missed her mother. 

Jake was afraid. 

The whole morning, his hands wouldn't stop shaking. It was hard hiding it from the kids, especially Neytiri, but the tremors wouldn't cease. 

They came and went, remnants from a battle he hadn't prepared himself for. Nothing could've prepared him for the battle of the mountains, the fact that he almost died twice, and how so many people died on his watch.

He had nightmares about that fight, that horrific battle. He couldn't get that monster out of his head, the older man who refused to die. 

Fucking Quaritch, the southerner who had the glare of a man who had been in war longer than Jake was alive, even now. It scared him back then, and terrified him now. 

He had nightmares of Quaritch coming back and getting even. His heart would seize at the thought. For a while, it was an irrational fear, but then it became a reality. Somehow, he was back and in a na'vi body, a big one at that. 

The maniac had Jake's children under a knife. What would've stopped him from just twisting his wrist and killing one of them? Any of them. 

It was panic-inducing.

Jake hadn't come close to a threat like that since the battle, and there was one correlating factor. He couldn't get the memories of their last fight out of his head, and this time, Quaritch was bigger than him—more than bigger.

Although it was dark, Kiri and Lo'ak had detailed descriptions of how these "undead avatars" looked. Massive, heavily muscled, very strong and deceptively stealthy. One managed to get behind all of them and grab Tuk without a single sound. 

He felt like a little kid again. It was like when Dad was having one of his drunken moments, and he and Tommy had to hide in the bathroom. 

Jake ran. It was what he did best, even when he lost his legs. 

He left the only place he could call home for a place that didn't want him. It was very apparent that nobody wanted him here, and it was affecting his kids.  

When people had an opinion or a problem, Jake couldn't fix it; he didn't have the authority to. 

It was hard adapting to that. For over a decade, Jake had been a leader, the head honcho. He was the one people answered to and went to for help. 

For the sake of his children, he had to leave it all behind, starting from the beginning, just like when he first met Neytiri. His beloved mate was still furious with him for this decision. She wanted to stay and fight, to "re-kill the demon".

He loved his kids. He loved them more than the air he breathed. He would give anything for them. 

Choosing the sea was a mistake. So many innocent clans were being slaughtered in the search for Jake, and worse, Spider was among them. No other human had stripes painted on his skin with yovo berries.

It was his fault. Deep down, Jake knew that it was entirely his fault.

He never wanted to admit the real reason he didn't let Parker take the baby. He didn't want to face what he'd done, that his choice was from a place of anger. It was a way to spite Quaritch, even though the man, at the time, was dead. 

He'd condemned a baby whose lone sin was who his father was. 

Norm disagreed with it, as did Max, especially Mo'at and Neytiri. He didn't listen to them, though, still emotionally scarred from the final fight. He would've died if not for her.

It was a selfish way of getting the last laugh. Perhaps at the time, Jake wanted to raise Spider as his own, as proof that he was far better than that man. But he couldn't. 

Neytiri struggled. She didn't want "demon spawn" near her children, even though Spider had done nothing. She hated him. All she saw was another human who would destroy her family. 

She barely tolerated Norm and the other humans fighting on their side. She didn't like getting reminded that Jake was human once. She was traumatised for life, and he didn't blame her for that.

Jake tried to give Spider away. He tried the McCoskers, and that went to shit. He tried other people, but Spider had the heart of a na'vi, too eager to be in the forest than in a concrete or metal cage.

When the RDA returned, Jake began to feel desperate. It was a horrible decision to try to make Spider stay with the RDA; it never should've been an idea at all. He never would have survived in a human-centred world. 

He was na'vi in all but body. 

It wasn't enough, though. No matter what that child did, he got shunned for his blood, and it was Jake's fault. He couldn't forgive himself for that.

Kiri was angry with him for leaving Spider behind, but he couldn't risk their lives again. It felt awful that, once again, he was sacrificing Spider. 

It's not that Jake was worried that Spider would willingly give up himself or his family. The RDA were cruel bastards who'd torture that information out of you. 

He doubted that Spider was complicit in the slaughter. He was most likely being used as a translator, a disposable tool.

That horrible existence was Jake's fault as well. 

He would die with the guilt of what he'd done to that poor kid. 

With how dearly the sea people regard children and babies, there was no telling how Tonowari and Ronal would react if they knew of his sins. It was entirely possible that his family, or perhaps only himself, would be exiled for a stupid, selfish choice. 

He couldn't ask Tonowari to get the kid, either. As far as the Olo'eyktan knew, Spider was an ally of their shared enemy. They wouldn't want to rescue an enemy, especially given that the Metkayina had no experience with humans - they'd probably never even seen one up close before. 

Kiri and Lo'ak were enduring a lot of bullying due to their mixed blood. Little Tuk got less, as she only had four fingers on one hand, and the other had the natural three. Out of them, Neteyam looked like he could be a full na'vi.

The fact that one of Neteyam's eyes had a greenish tint betrayed otherwise, but it wasn't always recognisable. That had to have come from Jake's mother. She had heterochromia - it was one of the few things he could remember about her. 

Genetics are weird like that. It's not like the kids could control it, and he couldn't blame the Metkayina for being very fearful of the "demon blood".

Demon. It's a humanised word for a very ancient, wicked creature in the planet's culture, the antithesis of Eywa. They call it Vrrtep, for its proper name was forbidden. It's a grave insult to be called a demon or to have a demon's blood, as close to a slur as the Na'vi language could get. 

Humans - sky people - were almost seen as children of the great demon. 

Even if Jake could, he wouldn't bring Spider here. He'd get worse treatment than Kiri, although it'd certainly make her at least talk to Jake again. She was doing her best to pretend he didn't exist right now.

That was certainly something that Grace passed down. The sheer stubbornness was unmistakable. It made her attachment to the boy more confusing, given how their parents despised each other. Hell, Quaritch even killed Grace.

She never seemed upset about that. It was obviously from blood loss, but when Jake told her that Quaritch had shot her, she seemed more amused than anything - it must've been the painkillers. 

"You have not eaten," his mate said, moving cooked fish before him. "Eat."

"Just got a lot on my mind."

"You and Kiri both. She is distressed but will not speak to me. I fear she misses Kìreysì's dreamwalker body." 

Grace would be disgusted with him. She's how he knew Spider existed, and despite her hate for Quaritch, she spoke about the boy fondly. She even told about the time Spider had bitten her boob looking for milk.

He never learned Spider's mother's name. He didn't want anything left of Quaritch on Pandora. He tried his best to destroy everything, but it wasn't enough. 

Nothing ever was.

"She's still upset that she can't go to the cove of ancestors again."

"I do not believe Norman."

"We can't risk it. But yeah, I'll try to talk to Kiri. She doesn't seem all that fond of me lately."

"You are her father. She will heed at least one of us."

"Yeah, but Kiri's just like Grace. If she doesn't want to listen, she won't."

"A trait you share."

He deserved that.

More than that.

Jake relented, taking a bite from the tasteless fish. He hated fish. He was sick of it, but there weren't many options in the sea.

He looked out at the horizon, constantly concerned that one morning, he'd awaken to that bastard grinning back at him, only blue. How the fuck did that happen? How do you kill what has already died?

And it wasn't an avatar body. No, it was more than that. These bodies were bigger, heavier, stronger and very quick. They were lucky to kill as many as they had. 

Neytiri would've died if Neteyam hadn't defied his orders. That bothered him a lot. 

Kiri wasn't going to listen to him. She was angry he left Spider with those abominations, and she was right to be.

That poor kid.

Lo'ak had never felt freer. 

He missed flying with Telisi, but he always tried to visit her. He couldn't leave his flying friend alone for too long. 

She spent time with him when Dad was angry again. She was with him when he had to do chores as punishment. There was always something that Lo'ak had done wrong - it was one of the few things he was good at. 

Sitting out on the edge of the reef, looking out at the open waters, he didn't feel nearly as confined and restricted as back then. 

Out here, Lo'ak wasn't nearly as much of a burden. Sure, everyone was upset that he bonded with an outcast, but Lo'ak would do it again. He knew what it felt like to be the disappointment, the burden, the unwanted one. 

He didn't like fighting. Sure, hunting was excellent, but it felt weird when he was in real fights with guns. 

Dad taught him how to use one, how to take a life, and it never felt right. The weapon was too big in his hands and didn't fit right, no matter how hard he tried. 

Despite this, Lo'ak tried very hard to be useful, not to be a burden when it came to the war. It was what his father praised Neteyam for, the goody good boy, the favourite. No matter how hard Lo'ak tried, he wasn't as perfect as his brother, constantly drowning in his giant shadow.

Bonding with Payakan was special. It was unique and beautiful, something that Lo'ak cherished. He looked forward to sneaking out again and seeing his tulkun brother. 

Unlike Neteyam, Payakan didn't give him lectures. He didn't look down on Lo'ak as though he were a mistake, a disgrace to his namesake, the Lo'akur. 

Moving out here was the first chance in Lo'ak's life to find some semblance of himself, something other than being a soldier. Out here, there wasn't a war to fight, so Dad wasn't training them as often. It was the most they got from him anymore.

If it didn't involve combat, Dad "didn't have the time" or "you're not children anymore". 

"Lo'ak," Tsireya said, her voice bringing him away from the pit of his parents' consistent disappointment in him. "You are looking to nothingness again. Are you alright?"

"I will," he lied, ears lowering a little. "Just thinking about things, y'know. Is your dad still mad at me?"

"My dad isn't capable of being angry for long. My mom, however, that is a different song."

Ronal was a scary woman. She earned the respect of the clan, but she didn't get along with Lo'ak's parents very well. 

Despite being heavily pregnant, Ronal didn't let it stop her from doing her duties and being somewhat cool sometimes. The way she could scowl a tsurak into quieting down was so cool. 

And Tonowari was awesome. He knew that Lo'ak had lied to cover for Ao'nung immediately and seemed to respect Lo'ak's efforts, even though he would've died if not for Payakan. 

The Chief was a good man. Despite the risk their presence brought to his clan, he accepted them. 

"Are you excited? About being a big sister?"

"Extremely," she admitted, a light purple reaching her cheeks. "I can't wait to meet my sisters."

"Sisters? More than one?"

"My mother is from another clan, and they usually have twins - I didn't have one, and the little brother that never took a breath was alone, too. It is exciting, though. I was allowed to help choose a name."

How did they know the sex? How did they know there were two?

Lo'ak had never seen twins before. He knew about them; Dad used to have an identical brother named Tommy. 

Ao'nung must not have had a twin, either. Or he was like Kiri. Either way, it was a massive thing. 

The sea people struggled to have children. For one reason or another, they either miscarried or had a stillbirth. It was excellent to know the babies were healthy.

If Lo'ak ever had children, could he have twins because of Dad? Maybe. 

"I hated being the youngest. It was great when Tuk was born."

"Oh, yes, I agree. No longer can Ao'nung mock me for my youth. That will be our shared duty to our little sisters."

"Already scheming, huh?"

"Of course. Siblings must irritate each other - it encourages growth and patience. I have developed much thanks to Ao'nung's antics." 

"I don't know about patience. None of us has much of that," he joked, though it was truer than he'd like.

Patience wasn't a Sully strong suit.

"I argue otherwise. You are very patient, Lo'ak. Patience is more than being able to wait - it is part of your soul. Payakan would not have trusted you with his life if not for that part of you, the piece that was open to listening, even when told not to. It is very admirable."

Lo'ak didn't know what to do with that information. Sure, he liked it, but it felt weird, too.

Compliments like that were rare. Usually, it meant Lo'ak only barely screwed something up instead of entirely.

But Tsireya spoke with her whole heart, every beautiful inch of it. He could get lost in her eyes, in her wavy patterns, her curly hair, her soft voice...

He hadn't had a crush before. It wasn't like anyone in the Omaticaya liked him - they all thought he was hideous because of his human features. 

When he looked at her, he didn't see repulsion at his appearance. It's like she could see past his blood and skin. Her hands cradled his heart as though it were precious, something valuable, and it scared him.

Lo'ak didn't know how to handle this. He wanted so desperately to do the right thing, but he ruined everything.

"Thanks, Tsireya. You've got an excellent way with words, y'know?"

"I get that from my father. He is quite poetic."

"Ao'nung must've gotten his attitude from your mom, then."

"Most certainly. My brother even pouts like Mom does."

"Your mom? Pout? I don't believe it!"

"Not in communal places, but with only us, yes. My father is unable to fight it. He is utterly weak to her and is proud of it."

Lo'ak could certainly see why. If Tsireya ever pouted at him or blinked her eyes at him, he'd bend in a heartbeat.

If the sky people ever went away and his family decided to return to the forest, Lo'ak wouldn't join them. He couldn't after finally finding someone who saw him for himself.

Someone who was still here, at least.

Spider was dead; he had to be. The sky people were evil and hurt kids; his father drilled that into him often. They hurt bad kids especially. 

Out of anyone, Spider made Lo'ak feel less alone, but there wasn't a chance he was alive. Not with the demons.

Maybe someday, Spider would forgive Lo'ak for getting them all caught. It was his fault. It always was.

It always would be.