and down the rabbit hole (we go)

by Anonymous

Summary:

There is a beat of silence and suddenly the only things Neteyam can be completely conscious of are the big hand pulling roughly at his hair, the sharpness of a knife against his throat, and the scent, that goddamned scent.

Or,

The People have soulmates, Neteyam wonders how Eywa can be so cruel.

Chapter 1: a burning ember

Summary:

Fate doesn't really care about free will.

Neteyam had always been a little bit odd, and it was not just a feeling, or his siblings being annoying when they teased him with the word, or merely the angst of a teenage boy, it was a fact. He guesses that, in the end, it all came back to the way in which he came to be, to his conception.

In his father's eyes there was too much of the late Olo'eyktan in him—the hardness in the lines of his mouth and the guilt that weights heavy on his shoulders haunts Neteyam in his nightmares, where he sees a great tree fall, and bullets fly, and fire, so much fire; in the eyes of his mother there would always be too much demon in him—her angry hisses and the way she seethes when Neteyam takes interest in his paternal roots are effective things to keep him in line; and in the eyes of the clan, the words marring the skin of his forearm were too much of a reminder of everything they had lost—everything that has been taken by the Sky People.

It was not a secret and it had never been, one of the most sacred beliefs and customs that the Na'vi people of Pandora upheld and cherished, was that of the eternal soul bond between two individuals.

It was a connection between a couple, an unbreakable bond in the eyes of Eywa and the Tsahìk, something much more than marriage as the late Dr. Grace Augustine had helpfully described it in one of her journals. There was even a physical evidence of it, manifesting itself on the sensitive skin of a Na'vi's forearm, an unknown pigment of the alien's body would create readable words in the native dialect of the other end of the bond and when they finally met, the words would acquire a soft glow to them just as the rest of the marks on their blue skin…

It was and astounding biological mystery, and Dr. Augustine had even called it preposterous, the way every interviewed individual would claim to actually have fallen in love with their destined was simply ridiculous in her mind!

And yet, the human admitted that as a woman of science, she had to be incredulous and would never be able to understand the faith they had. The most interesting part in the diaries however, was the confirmation of the fact that avatars had never presented the same condition, until Jake Sully's soul opened his eyelids in his twin's body and she saw the mark appear with her own two eyes, a mark that matched Neytiri's incorrectly worded sentence in na'vi and glowed fluorescent in the dark after his first night in the jungle.

The words, evidently enough, are never a secret, within The People and specially due to the connection they have with Eywa, nothing is ever a secret, and Neteyam understands the importance of it, the sanctity of honesty in the clan. But even then, sometimes he wishes not everything was known, sometimes he wishes his parents hadn’t presented him to the rest of the clan with pride pouring off their scents in waves, sometimes Neteyam wishes he was someone else entirely, with a common na’vi mark, or a simple ignorant human without one.

"Near the old shack…", his brother's voice soft and wary in his ear rips him out of his thoughts and his ikran whines in distress at his startled yelp. "I know a shortcut", he waves at his parents, their scents already reeking with worry. Neteyam can feel the beginnings of a headache forming at the front of his skull and the descent into the forest feels long enough to be tortuous.

Meanwhile, the soul mark written in human tongue under the bracelet on his forearm, burns, "I caught you", it whispers, Neteyam does everything on his power to lose the words among the trees.

 

---

 

"That’s bullshit", are the first words Miles Quaritch utters when the two medics in front of him finish their explanation about the weird ass markings -that he just recently learned were omaticayan na'vi dialect- etched on his skin. They said those were more permanent than any earthly tattoo, he still tries to rub them right off his skin with only his thumb. The tiny nerds in front of him look at each other a little bit baffled, the woman even looks pale while looking up at him. "Well, that’s all the information we have about them, Doctor Augustin-", she cuts herself off with a gasp when Miles stands up from the bed to his -very new and very satisfying- full height, eager to get out of the sterile environment that surrounds him.

"Yeah, and I’m calling bullshit", he grunts, "that bitch can ruin lives even from the tomb, don’t worry, if I find my so called soulmate", Miles makes sure to inject a mocking tone with all his might in the word, "within those savages, I’ll make sure to tell you", he finishes the interaction stretching his body and groaning in satisfaction when his limbs pop.

"Colonel, you don't understand", the pair of humans are looking at each other nervously, still refusing to back down, "there are certain…", the sound of a clearing throat fills the medical room with a loud uncomfortable sound, it is awkward, it is weird, and Quaritch has a lot of more important things to do, "instincts that awaken in the natives when they first meet their fated mate".

This time he growls, it’s a low, dangerous sound that starts in the base of his throat and ends up hanging in the air like a threat, a promise of savage violence that would have disgusted his old self. Nonetheless, it now feels natural, and something deep inside his brain scratches in just the right way when the smaller beings cower in fear away from him, "and you seem to forget that I am not a native, doctor Tanner", it’s a whisper, low enough that only the people in front of him can hear, "I am nothing more than an avatar, an avatar with a mission to fulfill, and right now you are getting in the way of said mission". She then finally nods, face falling into a relieved expression for just a millisecond before settling in a professional -fake- smile.

"Then I guess we can discharge you, Colonel, you’re ready to fulfill your duty to the world", the sarcasm doesn’t go unnoticed but Miles decides to just let it go, while the door is closing behind him, his sensitive ears catch a soft comment from her assistant. "They can’t tell us we didn’t warn him, right?", she only answers with a scoff.

Meanwhile the words on his forearm seem to burn for a second, and the meaning of the words he discovered while studying na'vi do not stop echoing in his brain. No… It can’t be you. An angry growl rips itself off his throat and scares the absolute number of zero people hanging in the empty hallway, "just bullshit".

 

---

 

Something is wrong, something is very, very wrong, and Neteyam can sense it, seeping like the coldest of rains into his very bones. There is a feeling, maybe a hunch, urging him to follow his parent’s scents, to track them down, to try and protect his family. So he does, and it isn’t difficult with how strong and full of worry they are, searching for their pups, their instincts on fire.

It isn’t difficult, and then his nose picks up another scent, heady, musky, furious, and so so strong, it intertwines with his parents' in an angry fight for dominance until in the end, that new trace is the only thing he can smell, the one who guides him to the sound of the fight and the thrill of danger. He arrives just in time, body still covered by the natural camouflage that Eywa provides when he fires an arrow that -thankfully- saves his mother from what could have been a life threatening injury, and another one that buys her enough time to pull his father to the safety of a tree.

Having provided enough time for his parents to regroup and breath and once he is sure none of his sibling are still near enemy fire, Neteyam is about to make a silent retreat to wait with his ikran -just like he was ordered-, when suddenly there is a greater force pulling his hair aggressively from behind, body colliding with a solid wall of muscle behind him, a knife right under his nose and about to slit his throat.

"I caught you", the voice is rough, low, almost playful in the way it reaches his ears, and Neteyam can feel his whole body getting as taut as a bow when the older male pushes him out of his hideout without even struggling. He would recognize that voice anywhere, being used to hearing it in the nights when Spider's guilt for the sins of his father is just too big. "No… It can be you", he whispers, and his heart aches with something he can’t quite describe before his body goes completely lax, and if it wasn’t for the male behind him, he would have surely ended up a pile of useless bones and meat on the ground.

Something deep and primal inside him is indecently satisfied with the way the other can hold him up so easily.

"Let my son go, Quaritch", that’s his father’s voice, threatening, talking with an edge of danger on every word that he had never heard before, the youngest loathes the fact that they were even spoken. "Ma Jake…", his mother’s voice fades out, uselessly and and almost breaking at the last syllable. There is a beat of silence and suddenly, there is and unnatural heat filling his body and the only things Neteyam can be completely conscious of are the big hand pulling roughly at his hair, the sharpness of a knife against his throat, and the scent, that goddamned scent that can only belong to his fucking fated mate.

The sharpness of the knife disappears but the hand that used to hold it pulls the young Na’vi tight against the other's chest by the neck, it’s possessive, it’s primitive, it satisfies him in ways he didn’t know he needed to be satisfied, "mine", his mate growls, low, threatening and just as, if not more, dangerous than Jake.

Neteyam can’t stop the delighted purr that slips out of his mouth.

Chapter 2: interlude: a mother's lamentation

Summary:

And Neytiri can’t protect him, not anymore.

Neytiri had always held herself in high regard, she had always stood tall amongst her people, back straight with duty and head up with pride for everyone to see.

She had a strong will, she knew she was a strong woman. She had mourned the death of her sister while accepting a new role in the clan, she had been reborn from the ashes of the Great Tree with her father’s bow in her hands, she had stood next to her husband against the demons that wanted to steal her home, she knew how to keep moving forward. A fearless warrior, that is how Neytiri was regarded amongst her people.

But even with all that, with the battles won, and the scars gained, and the death around, the first time something truly horrifies her, is when her firstborn, her darling child, her baby, is born with the demons' language marring his fair blue skin.

There are a a lot of things that The People dim important to teach to their young, but one almost as vital as their connection with Eywa, is the teachings of the Soul Bond. Since she was nothing but a little cub, Neytiri would hear nothing but amazing stories about it, lovers who would defy their families to be together, bonds that could end war between clans, she would hear about the purity, the sacredness of it all. And when she finally reached her maturity years and the alpha side of herself manifested with an endless rut, she was anxious, restless, she wanted her bond to appear at the moment. She wanted love. Then, several years later, Jakesully arrived, the alpha with his dashing smile, and his dumb ways, like a child learning to walk in the forest for the first time, and it was magical, he was strong, and he was dutiful, and he was Toruk Macto.

That is why when she carries their first child, she prays to Eywa, asking for his health, for his happiness, and for a soul-bond full of love. Then Neteyam is born, and the words in his skin are in English, and Neytiri is terrified.

Her mate refused to see the mess that their eldest son’s mark was since the first moment she mentioned it. He wouldn’t talk about it, ever, not in the privacy of their hut were neither The People nor the Avatars that remained could listen, nor in the middle of the forest were their words would be spoken to get lost amongst the trees.

It infuriated Neytiri to no end, her aggressive alpha scent would clog their home and crash against Jakesully's more neutral one. Always calm, always as composed as she could never even hope to be. But then he would smile, lean over the cradle were Neteyam slept and hold their son's tiny little hands -so small, so fragile it made her throat close up and her eyes tear up, chest constricted and heart beating painfully fast-, "he’ll be fine, love, this bond brought me to you, didn’t it?", his voice a soft whisper to not wake the little one. "He will be fine, I know it."

And it helped, it helped to wind Neytiri down, her scent taking a more soothing edge, her eyes softening while focusing on her little family, but still, Jakesully couldn’t understand, couldn’t see the issues his son would have to face. She could already feel them, the hardships surrounding his words, the dirty looks, the suspicious glances, "it’s the demon blood", some elders would whisper, and Neytiri felt ashamed of herself for the first time in years the day she finally covered Neteyam's mark with a bracelet.

 

 

---

The day it finally happened, everything was quiet, it was almost a perfect day and that by itself should have been reason enough to get suspicious. She was listening to Lo'ak's ramblings almost absent-mindedly, hands moving in a practiced motion while skinning the victim of their latest hunt. Then, the chaos broke out. The first thing she heard were the sounds, loud footsteps approaching their hut and the worst of it all, the screaming, the crying.

Dread fills her stomach as she stands immediately. "Lo'ak, take this outside", eyes wildly darting around while cleaning her hands off the blood, "ask Kiri for help and finish it".

Jake is suddenly in the hut an instant later holding their thrashing, wailing first-born son in his arms. And the smell is what hits her almost violently in the face, intense, sweet, so sweet that it’s almost cloying, filling the hut and covering all of their belongings with it. Jake disappears through a parting in the middle of their home, to were they usually sleep, taking the smell with him, and she’s frozen in place, watching as her her mother barrels in with a basket filled with herbs and cloths, mumbling loudly to herself.

Then she moves, almost automatically, deft feet carrying her across the short distance, too fast and desperate, almost frantic. Her head collides against her mate’s chest when she is about to reach it, to reach him, her flesh and bone. She struggles when he envelopes her in a forced hug. "Neytiri!", her ears go flat against her hair, inner alpha confused, hurt, she barely had had any time to see Neteyam thrashing in his cot, to hear his whines of distress and notice how Mo'at was fussing around him.

"Ma Jake, I need to see him!", it was a desperate scream, her alpha roaring, needing to provide comfort for her pup. "Neytiri", he tried again, and this time she stopped moving, "please, your scent is only going to put him in more distress", he was serious, eyes sad and face flushed. Neytiri's heart stopped for a second. "What happened?"

"He was missing in the forest for a few hours", he explained, his hand moving to rest in what could be a comforting gesture on her shoulder, "Taronyu found him and sent his son to get me, he was bruised and already feverish when I arrived", she closed her eyes then, willing her heartbeat to slow down and her scent to soften.

When Mo'at finally allowed her to go into the room, her breath caught, there usually was light in there. Fire-flights and flames keeping the room bright enough to be lively, now there was only a dark void, her son on a cot right in the middle of it. Still thrashing in the covers, still sweating profusely. The scent that caught her nose was honeyed, floral, omegan through and through. Neytiri couldn’t stop herself from falling to her knees right next to her baby's almost lifeless form. Eyes closing tight, she swore under her breath, l this was wrong, everything was so, so wrong.

Unlike alpha and omegas, betas had never been as connected with their bond as the other two dynamics, they didn’t need their destined to survive, they were always freer, allowed to just walk away and come back when they felt like it unless they sealed their union in the eyes of Eywa. But not her son, her baby wouldn’t be able to do that, her son would meet a demon, her son would meet a demon and would have to seal a lifelong bond with them, whoever they were. Her son needed his alpha to survive.

Neteyam wasn’t supposed to be an omega, he was supposed to be a beta and lead the clan, he was supposed to be a beta and live, he was supposed to be a beta and be free. And so Neytiri finally lets her tears flow, and her mind wander, and with her son’s pained whimpers filling the silence of the hut, she prays.

"Please Great Mother, please", don’t let them find each other.

 

 

---

 

 

The high of the heat approached at a ridiculous speed, the fever made Neteyam restless and the sweat made him trash and turn and drench his covers.

"Please, please, please," he kept on repeating and repeating, fresh tears falling from his eyes with each sob.

And Neiytiri just tried to help, her hands mostly occupied for the last couple of days with her eldest son. Changing the little cloth on his forehead every once in a while, giving him teas, and plants and anything she could think of that Mo'at approved. But this time, this time it felt too hard, Neytiri was holding onto his hand, her whole body shaking with contained sobs, with contained furry.

Then Neteyam's babbles reached her once again, "fire, mother, it burns, mom", she moves her hand, arm extending to reach his face and get strands of his hair out of the way, "I know, I know my boy, stay strong, oh Eywa, stay strong".

And she swears then, on the name of his father to protect, to to guide, to help his son be better. He wouldn’t be a sacrifice for the Sky Demons like her sister had been, her darling boy wouldn’t be, and she would make sure of that. But right now, Neteyam was still a boy, vulnerable and fragile, presenting as an omega before his rite of passage. And reality took a grip of her again the moment he squeezed her hand in his smaller one, a pained scream coming out of his mouth while his body curled tight into a ball in the middle of the cot.

Her scent turns sour again then, her inner alpha desperate because she can do nothing, nothing at all to relieve the pain that his body quickly developing in a week caused, to mute the nasty emotions that came with a presenting heat.

When the Tsahìk kicks her out of the room again, she understands; the whole thing was not over, in fact, it had just begun.

 

 

---

 

 

And then the forest burns in demon fire again, the forest burns again and they hide, the forest burns again and they fight, the forest burns again and they protect, the forest burns again and her son meets his destiny.

The forest burns again, and Neytiri doesn’t think she can protect Neteyam from the fire that engulfs him in the arms of the devil, not anymore.

 

Notes:

Thank you so much for all the comments left on the previous chapter, I didn't have much planned for this fanfic, but ya'll have inspired me.

I hope you enjoyed this little interlude in Neytiri's POV, I'll try to move the plot forward in the next update and go back to our main couple :))

Chapter 3: a pair meant to be

Summary:

People learn to deal with the fact that Eywa has a sense of humor, no one enjoys it that much.

The colonel has never felt anything quite like that before, one moment he was in control, as always. Watchful eyes and body attentive to his surroundings, one of the traitor's offsprings in between his harms, and a knife in his hand. Then the boy had said those words, those words marring his skin with an alien language and that he could understand in that moment better than any native word he’d ever heard before, and Miles felt like something had punched him directly in the throat, heart beating violently fast against his ribcage, hand tightening unconsciously around the boy's hair.

Then there was that smell. It was unexpected, appearing right after the disbelieving young Na’vi had let those damned words out, at the same time his small body had collapsed against Miles. It was overpowering every other thing he could perceive around himself, clogging his nose and overwhelming his senses with an almost aggressively honeyed note.

It takes him maybe a few seconds to notice its source, the scent was coming from the little thing in between his arms, and that moment is enough for something inside him to need a better grasp of the delightful smell permeating the air as if it had always been there. There’s notes of honey, of course there are, and his face moves almost without his consent then, burying his nose in the other’s neck almost greedily, as if he were a man dying of thirst and the smell an oasis in the middle of the desert.

Suddenly there is something more, something sickening, sour notes tainting the air with anger, with challenge. Something inside the colonel perceives the threat before it even speaks, two alphas standing right in front of him. "Let my son go, Quaritch", a warning hiss follows the words, and Miles hisses in response too, low and dangerous. Something animal taking over him, a possessive instinct he didn’t knew he had making it his first instinct to pull his mate -his mate?- closer to him, one hand placing itself over his chest in a protective gesture, "mine", he growls in response. Threat as clear as water in his throat, in his stance, smell taking an aggressive note and easily overpowering everything around him, the inability to actually control his bodily responses painfully obvious.

The change in his stance, fortunately takes Miles' nose closer to the source of the sweet smell that only becomes more intense with every passing moment. And he’s is finally able to smell it in all its glory, there is honey and maybe a touch of cinnamon, of something earthly that he hasn’t smelled in a long, long time. But there is also something that may be citrus, something alien and enticing that takes Miles' breath away for a second, conveying his hand to subconsciously drop the knife; a part of himself suddenly finding unacceptable the fact that earlier he was trying to hurt him, the precious being in between his arms, for some reason.

He hears the two alphas in front of them talking, voices distorted and garbled, not quite reaching his ears in a way that should be alarming but isn’t, those are just noises something inside him says, noises that keep him aware of where the threats are. And there are quite the threats, he can smell something else, another dominant not as developed as the two adults in front of of him, but still an alpha nonetheless. And behind that, almost losing itself in the wave of smells spread through the jungle, there are familiar scents, the scents of pack. And he doesn’t waste time, taking advantage of the distracted alphas in front of him as he retreats, his back turned to the ones the animal inside him thinks it can trust.

It proves to be a mistake, when a stinging sensation appears on his neck and his body goes numb. A dejected "sorry colonel," a panicked "let me go!" spoken in english, a desperate growl, and its equally alarmed response in a whimper as his mate is ripped off his arms and the fight starts again, are the last things he perceives before everything goes black.

 

---

 

Jake's heart is beating almost violently against his chest and his son’s unresponsive body is cradled in his arms, evoking memories in a mocking tone of a situation almost as desperate as this one. At this point he is letting himself be guided by his protective alpha instincts, adrenaline and panic moving his legs swiftly on branches and grass, trusting on his mate almost blindly to keep the rest of their pups safe. The most pressing matter is in between his hands right now, and the feeling of it being almost lifeless prompts the man to get on his ikran quicker. This can’t be, it just can’t.

Norm is ready to receive them in the caves when they arrive, a stretcher prepared to take Neteyam into their home, Mo'at with her trusted basket of herbs, and incense, and concoctions at ready. And for the first time in years, Jake Sully finds himself once again helpless, as helpless as he had felt, trapped in his wheelchair when those two suits had showed him his brother’s lifeless corpse so long ago.

Right now his sight is set on his son, focus only on his body, but the manic desperation is getting to him because there are no movements, no twitch of eyelids or fingers, and the breathing is so shallow Jake barely can see his chest moving, he obligues himself to close his eyes then, suddenly remembering the way his pup had fallen to the ground when Quaritch had been forced to pry his arms away from him; for a moment, in that jungle, time froze and Jake feared the worst when Neteyam's body collapsed, like nothing more than a puppet with its strings cut. Neytiri’s war cry had been what finally brought him out of the shock. Both mobilizing instantly to save their kid.

He opens his eyes then, and wills his scent to wind down while following the volunteers moving Neteyam, his son needs him.

 

---

 

Lyle is scared shitless.

Don’t get him wrong, he enjoys this, all of it. It’s his job for a reason, killing, maiming, stealing… There is a rush in doing whatever he likes knowing that it is basically helping humanity, and that, additionally, he will be rewarded for it, but he definitely did not sign up for this shit. A loud bang shakes him out of his thoughts, and for a moment his ears and his tail twitch with something that feels like fear, "are you sure the glass will withstand his strength?"

The grunt that is his only answer makes him turn to actually look at the nice doctor standing almost, but not quite, next to him, she’s frantically writing notes down on a chart and mumbling quite manically to herself, so he turns to Walker, who just shrugs. "I don’t think that’s glass, man". She fucking shrugs. And Lyle finds himself swallowing dry, while turning his sight to look in front of him again.

There the Colonel is, in the middle of one -destroyed- containment cell in the main building of the settlement. At first they had put him in the hospital area, waiting for the sedatives to wear off and for Miles Quaritch to come back, but when he had woken up, he was different. Lyle though he was just panicking, like in the ship when he had first open his eyes as a Recom, but this wasn’t anything like that.

This time his eyes were dark, pupils dilated, a constant growling sound was coming out of his throat, he wouldn’t talk and suddenly, he had started attacking Lyle. What had woken up was not Miles Quaritch, it was an animal, all angry and impulsive, he had needed the help of Walker, Lopez and Ja to actually restrain the beast, who had been spitting, and fighting, and hissing, and biting the whole time. And when they had finally put him in the weird ass white cell, he had destroyed it in a matter of minutes, crazed eyes red and knuckles bleeding when he finally managed to break the table just to use the parts to bang against the glass or the door.

"He is in a feral state", doctor Mills suddenly states, "I did warn him about it". Lyle rises an eyebrow when she finally turns to address him and Walker, her expression as professional as ever, but her eyes glinting with unsettling excitement. "He will eventually snap out of it, in a day or two", the woman states, "but you have to be careful, if he interacts with his mate again and they don’t consummate the bonding…", she let's a sigh out and her hand rubs her head, as if she’s the one having it the worse in this scenario. "Then I have reasons to believe that he will stay like this forever", yup, Lyle is completely sure now, this whole Recom thing is a total freak show.

 

---

 

"No", there is no hesitation, no doubt when Neytiri gives an answer. Her hardened eyes are basically staring Jake down, scent souring at a too fast pace. "Hey, Neytiri, love, listen to me", he says then, and he knows he sounds pathetic but he can’t… "We can’t stay here, and you know it". Her hands are still holding her father’s bow, stance strong and firm.

But he can’t stop repeating Mo'at's words in his head, a warning and a sorrowful confession at the same time, if they see each other again and don’t seal their union in the eyes of Eywa, Neteyam is going to die, Jakesulky.

Neytiry had clenched her hand around his in an almost iron tight grip, he even heard the air leaving her lungs, could feel the quick pulse against his fingers and smell the distressed scent of his mate. It was still not enough deterrent, not for his wife, "we have to fight them", she had explained, "we have to protect everyone, we cannot run- run like cowards!" then she was almost screaming, voice only low enough for the kids to not hear from outside. But this time Jake doesn’t cave in, "they have Spider, and he knows every single detail of our whole lives, of our plans", that makes her pause, feline eyes widening in realization for the first time, "he is hunting us, and when he finds us, because he will, what do you think is going to happen? Uh? What do you think will happen with Neteyam?"

And that is enough, he can physically see the moment when Neytiri agrees, even if she doesn’t say it, her whole body collapses in itself and Jake almost wants to take everything back, but no. The bow ends up down again, not raised anymore, not ready to fight anymore, her eyes instead are full of tears. "We can’t lose him, Ma Jake, we can’t…", so he wraps his arms around her and closes his eyelids, and mourns the life they lost since the moment the Sky People came back.

"Mom?", his voice is soft, and Neytiri finds herself straining her ears to actually hear, "mom?", this time the voice sounds more panicked, and before she notices, she’s ripping herself apart from the other alpha, her legs are carrying her across their home and her knees are bending next to the cot where her oldest son has been laying for the last three days before she can notice, "Neteyam, my son, my sweet, sweet baby", she chokes out, and it sounds pained and raw and wrong.

"Mom?", he asks again, and she notices his eyes, red rimmed and swollen, and his hand, scratching almost viciously the soul-mark that now glows softly on his forearm. And Neytiri has to choke back tears when she takes his hand in between hers and sees the blood on his nails, the blood on his skin. "I’m sorry, mom, I’m so sorry," Neteyam whispers while the first tear finally slides down his face.

 

 

Notes:

Heeey, thank you very much for all the nice comments, I want y’all to know that I read and treasure every single one of them, they really make me want to post more of this little crazy thing.

I also apologize for not updating faster, but we’re in exams season right now and I’m turning in final assignments, so life is kinda crazy, thanks for reading, I hope y’all enjoyed this chapter!

Kudos and comments are always well received, I enjoy reading your opinions and thoughts quite a lot :))

Chapter 4: consequences

Summary:

Miles reflects, Lo'ak reflects, they both arrive to very different conclusions.

TODAY, BRIDGEHEAD

 

Miles has always been alone.

No, he does not think it's sad, nor does he tell it to elicit pity or sympathy. Life is like that sometimes, he's been alone most of it, and that's just a fact. As straightforward as the grass being green, or the sky being blue. It started with something as simple as dad's absence, and then everything came tumbling down; like a house of cards, like a domino line. It toppled everything: then mom drank, every minute of every hour, until one good day she just opened the front door and stepped out to never come back. Then Mindy hopped on her car, and even if she sighed and patted his head with regret, she also never looked back. Then Miles left that house, and suddenly the army, the anger, the violence, it was all there was.

Maybe there was a time, Miles sometimes reflects when he’s alone and the sounds of the night get loud enough to suffocate everything else, when he was actually happy, when his parents cared about him and Mindy, when there was some kind of complacency in his life. But if there ever was, he doesn’t remember it. That’s why he doesn’t understand why now of all times, he starts to feel so, so empty.

According to his medical chart -and a mildly taunting doctor Tanner-, it took him five days to come out of what the Na’vi biologists call feral state. Miles never thought he would ever agree with a scientist, but right now he can’t think of a more appropriate term for the deranged condition he found himself in after their first little mission. They all ask a lot of questions, of course. The whole medical team surrounds him, in their little suits and coats and as full of shit as always, they are invasive, and coarse, and downright off-putting.

"Do you remember anything?" Surprisingly, he does, though it’s mostly foggy and blurred, like and old recording that never got fixed. Miles remembers feeling whole for the first time in his life. As if the unbearable loneliness he didn’t know he felt had just disappeared from within, a bunch of scents reaching his savage hindbrain at the same time, something delicious and right, and something human and different but so inherently Miles it was scary.

Then he also remembers it all disappearing at once, ripped away from him and leaving his mind and body feeling so unbearably empty and unbelievably angry it made him something completely different, an utter stranger.

"What you experienced", doctor Tanner says, and this time Quaritch actually listens, "were the beginnings of a bond's formation, and it is not something to be taken lightl-"

"Will it affect his performance in the field?", she sighs then, sounding tired and almost fed up, looking at her side, where General Ardmore just talked and is standing with her arms crossed. "No, we hope it won’t, he will mostly just feel longing, as if missing a lost family member", she looks down at the chart in her hands and makes some more notes, as if they don’t have enough already, as if this feeling of emptiness isn’t something completely new and disturbingly maddening for Miles.

"Though you should be careful, if you see the other side of your bond again and you don’t mate", the general makes a face at the word and Miles feels the need to punch her in the face for some reason, "it will be like missing an arm, or a leg, we have reasons to believe you would be stuck in a feral state until you can seal the bond with him".

That is why when he finally meets Miles Spider Socorro and the soft scent of human and cub reach his animal nose, he can’t stop himself from saving the boy. I mean, he still doesn’t understand fully what all of this means, or if the soulmate bullshit is actually significant beyond all of those biological reactions taking a hold of his body, but Miles Quaritch was never one to stay put, and even if they did offer a quite respectable position inside the base… He has a prey to hunt down, regardless of the dangers behind actually catching it.

 

---

 

TWO DAYS AGO, THE  HALLELUJAH MOUNTAINS

 

Lo'ak is angry.

He feels stupid about it, but he also thinks the word angry is an understatement. No, Lo’ak is fuming, completely furious and bitter, and the cause of it all is seating right in front of him: with a bowl of hexapede stew in between his hands and his eyes on some point of space on the wall; the cause of it all looks lost, empty, Neteyam is seating there looking like nothing more than a shell of himself and Lo’ak is so angry at him but he is also so angry at himself, and everything hurts, and they are leaving, and life is going so wrong it should be impossible.

Now, his brother's soulmate had apparently always been a concern, throughout the years he had come to realize that the mark marring the golden boy's skin was a taboo, a stain on the otherwise perfect son -Lo'ak knows this is a fact, he is sure because it was never mentioned in the house, or in the family, at least not as much as Kiri's or his own-, and when the clan mentioned the topic it was never with a gentle tongue, always talking in whispers and much less of a respectful tone. Mom would also look at it the same way she looked at the avatars that still were around, gaze carrying that same aversion, just like when she stared Spider down.

And when Lo'ak was naive and nothing more than a dumb child, his alpha self would always get angry, infuriated, a flare of protectiveness for his older brother that he couldn’t silence or snuff out would lash out. He didn’t understand the problem with it, it was a soulmark, it was sacred, a gift from Eywa. Lo'ak couldn’t understand even when he finally realized that the words were written in human language, because his father was first part of the Sky People too, him and his siblings were all half-demon, the idea of feeling repulsed by something as beautiful as a soul bond just because the other half maybe wasn’t as Na'vi as the rest of the clan was simply inconceivable… Until three days ago.

Lo'ak still remembers just because it would be very difficult not to, the first emotion he went through was, unsurprisingly, excitement. There is, of course, a thrill in the adventure, in disobedience, in doing something that you inherently know is forbidden. Then he was angry and scared, angry at that imposter using his people’s skins against them, but afraid for his sisters, for Spider. Angry with himself, because he had dragged them out here, smiling and laughing, directly into the wolf's mouth -and Spider had this glint in his eye, this knowing look that Lo'ak did not like at all-. Suddenly everything was replaced by relief, a deep breath confirmed their Neteyam's and their parent’s presence, and moments later they were all free, running and hiding and escaping.

And then Lo'ak smelt it, a sweet, honeyed fragrance permeating the air, followed by a territorial alpha scent that made his hackles rise and an unnerving warning alarm go off in his brain. He couldn’t physically stop himself from turning back, a sense of desperation so deep it felt genuinely wrong. And the sight that received him was not any less alarming, his brother was in between the arms of the -and there was only one way of describing a thing that could come back from the arms of Eywa only to take revenge- demon. But he wasn’t fighting, or snarling, or doing anything at all. Neteyam was just there, whole body being only held up by the arms of his captive, eyes closed and scent as sweet as the one of an omega in heat. He still keeps repeating it in his head, the moment that demon was forced to let his brother go, and the way the older had collapsed to the ground had made Lo'ak hold his breath, it looked like a hexapede after being struck with an arrow, like a dead body…

"Neteyam!" It is Neytiri's voice what pulls Lo’ak out of his head, eyes snapping up at the sudden call in the otherwise silent hut, occupied only by the heavy grief of knowing you’re losing something and the sound of people chewing slowly. "Neteyam", she whispers this time, and Lo’ak confirms once’s again that the Na’vi sitting in front of him cannot be his brother.

The imposter moves his head as if it’s difficult, tired eyes looking directly at their mother, and they seem so full of emotion but so empty at the same time, it is terrifying. There is no easygoing young Na'vi, there is no proud hunter or genius archer, it seems like there is nothing left. And the way their parents' faces fall once again and his sisters' eyes look everywhere but Neteyam, just make Lo’ak more angry.

"Just eat!" He suddenly growls to the omega, and yes, he is angry, and he is fuming, and he stands up and leaves their home. And Lo'ak does all of this because if he doesn’t, guilt will crush him in place until he's unable to get up again.

Notes:

Hello again! I’m finally free of exams and starting a new semester, which means a little bit of more time to update.

Again, thank you very much for your comments, I read every last one and treasure all of them. Am also very grateful for the attention this is receiving because I genuinely thought no one would read it, lol.

Hope you enjoyed the chapter, Lo'ak is difficult to write but I hope it didn’t come across as out of character as it felt for me! Next time we’ll get in touch with Neteyam's POV :))

Chapter 5: interlude: drifting (a father's anguish)

Summary:

Neteyam gets closer to the idea of his mate, Jake feels like he’s losing him.

It is not the first time Neteyam sneaks out but is the last time he will do it in this forest, he does it in the middle of the night nonetheless.

Neteyam knows it is a stupid course of action, of course he knows it; he knows that slipping away into the forest without anyone knowing, leaving the safety of their hut -of the whole clan-, and disappearing in between the wilderness after everything that has happened is plainly dumb, something he wouldn’t have done before, something Toruk Macto's perfect omega son could never do. But… He also feels different.

It is not like there was a complete physical change -other than the words now warmly glowing on his forearm- his eyes are still the same, his hair is still the same, his face, his physique. And still, something has completely changed, something fundamental in his very core has been modified forever by one singular moment that happened just a couple weeks ago -but his omega self now almost desperately feels like a thousand years-.

When Neteyam first smelled Quaritch -his mate, his alpha-, it felt like a nightmare come true. There he was, a dangerous avatar, not only a wolf in sheep’s clothing but the very same demon that once had destroyed almost everything his parents held dear.

It was crazy, it was outrageous, it was impossible and he wanted to hurt him, burn him, kill him. And yet, it was happening. To Quaritch, to him, to both of them. Right then and there, and after feeling the alpha against his back, after being embraced by the arms of the devil, after feeling the burning warmth of both marks glowing in the dark…

Neteyam wanted- no, needed more, but still felt complete at the same time, as if a piece of himself had been missing his whole life and now it had suddenly fallen into place, restored, as if it was always supposed to be there.

As if it had always been there.

That is why he is now leaving his ikran at a safe distance and covered by trees, that is why he is running in between the creaking branches to disappear in the darkness like he did so many nights before, that is why he finds himself foolishly crouching over the dead machine in which the soulmate he just met perished before he was born, so long ago.

Without permission his arm stretches enough for his fingers to caress the metal. It is unnervingly cold to the touch, but still manages to make him feel something, anything, after days and nights of nothing more than gut-wrenching emptiness filling his being.

Neteyam stays there as long as he can, in the middle of the clearing, the ruins, and the death, hoping for something -anything- to happen but still afraid of all the possibilities.

He leaves before the sun rises, escaping from the silence and departing from yet another piece of his soul, knowing he will probably never come back again.

 

---

 

The first time Neteyam slipped away in the middle of the night Jake was still wide awake, with his eyes burning in exhaustion but his brain refusing at all to turn off. It happened six days after the wretched encounter, the older na'vi had followed his son outside, his only intention to stop him, bring him back inside, maybe coerce him into the cot and finally get him to get some sleep after the whole situation surrounding his mate -the boy hadn’t slept in days, hadn’t been eating or talking at all, and barely reacted to anything happening around him-, but instead of doing anything Jake just followed. 

He followed mostly because it surprised him, the agility with which the otherwise lethargic boy was moving, the alertness, how awake his eyes looked for the first time in days. So Jake trailed after him, far enough for his son’s razor sharp hunter instincts not to kick in, and in silence, nonetheless, the place to which they arrived after what felt like hours moving through the forest almost made him talk, go to the boy and carry him on his shoulder until they were in the safety of the Hallelujah Mountains again, in the warmth of his pack, of his family. 

It was of course, the clearing where they had killed Quaritch that first time, one of the few places Jake procured to never put a foot on -because the wretched place now appeared to be plaguing his nightmares-. And his son, his son had approached that damned machine with a worryingly fucked up look on his face, with longing, with fondness twisting his features, and when he was finally on top of what was once a lethal weapon, his scent quite literally unfurled around him. It was like a calling, a bright beacon in the middle of the forest, the scent of an unmated omega crying out for the alpha they needed.

Jake couldn’t find in himself the strength to move away, ti react, to do anything, so he stayed there, guarding over his pup. The next day, that conscious, lively look he had seen in his son's eyes was gone, it didn’t matter that he now answered, that he had started to eat, or that he now moved and followed mindlessly through the menial tasks of the day, they boy still looked empty. 

So when Neteyam slipped away the next night, and the night after that one, and the night after that one to motionlessly stand guard over a dead machine and look a little bit more like a functioning human the next day, Jake followed to do the same for him. To take care of him until the last minute, allowing the blasphemy to continue while being completely conscious of the need to take the boy as far away of the forest as possible, the need to protect him from himself, to protect him from his own destiny.

 

---

 

Unbeknownst to Jake, their last night in their home is the first night his son sleeps in days, and it is also that night when the dreams begin: Something inside Neteyam burns, and Quaritch wakes up inside the base, feeling the coldness of the night caress his skin and the gnawing emptiness in his insides being fed.

 

 

Notes:

I apologize for the despairingly long delay, really, but I did not have anything previously written and the inspiration completely abandoned me after, well, a lot of things happened in my life. I really thought that fanfic writers exaggerated in their notes, but I wasn’t accepted at the university, I was fired, my grandmother died and I had to move.

So, it’s been a crazy few months. I really hope that I got Neteyam's POV correctly (it’s been a long time) and that y’all enjoy this update or remember this fanfic because I really don’t want to abandon it. Anyway, comments feed me with the approval I didn’t have when I was child and kudos brighten my day a little bit. Next up we have a look into Quaritch's own little adventure and the actual chase begins!

Thank you for reading!

Chapter 6: bonding

Summary:

Destiny is not so easily halted, neither is Eywa.

EASTERN SEA

 

Neteyam has always tried to be a capable hunter, an acceptable omega, and a good son. Honouring his parents, serving the clan, and dutifully carrying out his obligations were always the first —the only— priorities in his life, and proving that he was not worthless because of his soul mark was nothing more than an exercise of  spite.  That is why, when his father puts his foot down and decides to abandon the clan, the forest, their  home , to fly on their ikrans into some unknown place without even knowing if they will be welcomed… He follows without a question. It is not easy —it never is—to stand up next to his parents, look the rest of his family in the eye, feign a strength he does not feel, and exert a power he does not really possess.

This time, nonetheless, it is worse. 

There is a pull, a cruel ache in the middle of his chest, filling his mind and heart with an almost delirious desire. Neteyam was a strong and proud na'vi. He had never been ashamed of himself, of his parentage, of the mix of species in his blood, and yet… 

The way his own father cannot bear to be near him, the way his own mother avoids looking him in the eye, and the way his siblings do not scent him anymore; it hurts, it makes everything look bleak, it worsens the pain in his chest and the desperate pull of his instincts, and it only confirms his worst fear:

There truly is something wrong with him, and the gist of it is, how could there  not  be something terrible going on with Neteyam? A first-born male omega, an alien mark with a foreign bond, and a murderer —a  demon — on the other side of that bond. It is unbelievable, it is absurd, but it is also destiny; it is Eywa's will.

However, as his father has taken the time to drive that point home, he now understands that gods can also make mistakes. Why else would he crave the touch of a murderer? Why else would he search the forest for the scent of the devil? Why else would Eywa give him a monster so evil as his destined mate? So when Jake looks him in the eye and asks Neteyam to be strong for his family, the boy nods decisively —even though his hands shake and his head hurts—, and when Jake stands down from his position as Olo'eyktan, the boy stands tall to his side —even as his heart burns—, and when Jake finally orders him to mount his ikran and never look back, — he hesitates — he flies, he flies and ignores the tears that stubbornly escape his eyes.

This is all for the greater good, for safety. Even if his parent's decision makes Neteyam's instincts go haywire, even if it makes his heart ache, even if the longing his omega hindbrain feels is almost crushing his soul, he knows they do it all for him; he knows they do it to protect him, to shield him and the rest of the family from the horrors demons tend to attract. And so they leave. 

(What they do not seem understand is that as cruel as it can be, destiny will always follow its course). 

 

---

 

HALLELUJAH MOUNTAINS

 

There was a feeling of unexplainable possessiveness at the sight, of rage, of  worry . Even though Miles had never met the boy, even though his existence had been kept a secret from him and by all accounts the kid should have meant nothing to the avatar, there was something; when the kid started screaming in pain, his animal brain had reacted on instinct, a snarl ripping itself out of his lips, and the need to stop the torture had overpowered any other thought led by common sense.

Miles knew that, after living his whole life with the man they were supposed to hunt, the boy considered him as much of a demon as the rest of the aliens, and yet, blood was blood. “I can help you,” he had said, as honest as a man as wretched as him could manage to be; and when the boy — Spider , the kid had hissed, scared and feral in the middle of a too white room— started talking fluent na’vi as if it was natural for a human to do it, he knew his mercy had generously paid off, Quaritch was rarely wrong. 

It was a treacherous path, Miles soon learned, the one to think like an alien, to act like an alien, but as the human boy ran across vines and floating rocks, taunting them with mocking words and laughter, the avatar soon discovered that their bodies were ready for it. Long fingers wrapping around ledges, bare feet trekking sure across the dirt of a strange forest, his team keeps up with him effortlessly, their almost inconspicuous scents flaring up with an excitement that makes something in his brain purr with satisfaction.

That is, until they reach the beasts.

 

---

 

EASTERN SEA

 

It feels like being back there, Neteyam can actually feel it all even though it is nothing more than a dream. The wind on his face, the moss under his feet, the smell of the trees in his nose. He is running up, and up, and up, his heart is beating wildly against his chest and an euphoric sensation is settling unbidden in between his ribs, that is until he notices where exactly his feet are taking him.

Approaching the nest with carelessness would always be dangerous, even to experienced hunters, but his own body refuses to listen, and emotions that are not his fight inside his brain. There is stubbornness, there is decisiveness, there is courage. But his actions are also as stupid as a child’s and he does not know why. This body that is not his, but belongs to him approaches in another bout of stupidity to an ikran that seems to be posturing as much as himself and actually hisses, daring the animal to attack, to defend its territory. 

There are shouts behind him, almost indistinguishable from each other, a gasped "colonel," mixed in with whoops of excitement from several people. And then a voice that is not his answers. "I got this," the low tone reverberates in his chest and whatever is happening is undeniable now. This is not a dream, and more staggering than that is the fact that that voice can only belong to one na'vi, to his mate, to Quaritch; challenging a grown male ikran in a dangerously stupid bout of recklessness, punching it with his bare hands —and in spite of the shame a pulse of desire fills Neteyam's veins, a mate so big, an alpha so  strong —. 

And then to his abject horror, his mate tumbles with the ikran to the abyss of the Hallelujah Mountains. It is the fear, he will later learn, what makes his omega awaken, what strengthens a bond that has barely started to form, what makes him take over his alpha’s body to seal a connection with his chosen ikran in a split second. It is primal terror what makes him save his mate.

 

---

 

HALLELUJAH MOUNTAINS

On the other side of the planet Quaritch comes  back to himself on top of a beast, flying over the forest and with a voice whispering in his head —seal the bond, it repeats over and over with an almost frantic desperation, seal the bond—.

 

Notes:

This was a disgustingly long wait, I do not have any excuses, but I am not abandoning this, I want that to be clear. I really appreciate all your comments, my terrible obsession with fanfics and your lovely words are the only things that keep me going on today's day and age.

I will try to post more often, but I want ya'll to know this thing is all happening as I write. It was not planned, nor was it a big project of mine so that is why the gaps in between chapters are so long and the actual content so short, but now I'm in too deep and I will see it finished even if it kills me —well, or something like that—!

Thank you for reading if y'all still remember this good ol' thing, I hope you enjoyed it :)

Chapter 7: connection

Summary:

The bond begins to cause issues, Neteyam and Miles both reach very different realizations.

BRIDGEHEAD CITY

It is the loud bang resonating throughout the corridor right outside the lab what makes Doctor Mills give a long weary sigh, her new assistant —Daniel—, just looks startled, nervous eyes flitting from the door to his boss and back. Everyone else in the big grey room just tenses, some of them even stopping their work.

When the door finally opens he understands why. Standing right there, making the frame of an enormous metal door seem totally normal, is a blue giant —a Recombinant, his jumbled thoughts anxiously provide—, and he is a marvelous specimen, big and powerful and oh, he looks very very angry; the main indicator is this low underlying growl coming from the depths of his chest, a sound that makes Daniel's heart beat faster. And he had never been in the presence of an actual specimen, just seen samples, analyzed dead subjects while doing his masters back on Earth.

Daniel did not expect to actually see one so soon, after all they were said to be in a mission, but here he is and he’s walking directly to them. The assistant takes a step back out of pure reflex, instinct telling him to run from the predator just like the rest of the scientists that are already shuffling out through the back door, but Doctor Mills stays right there, with her chin up and her back straight so Daniel does not have any other option than cower behind his boss at the imposing presence.

"He is in my fucking head," the recom finally snarls once Doctor Mills forces herself to look up and meet his gaze, and Daniel thinks he might have peed himself a little.

 

---

 

The thing is, it started as something that could have easily been a lapse in judgement as well as a blackout because of the effect of the bond created between his new body and the beast —"the ikran", Spider's annoying voice corrects him in his memories, and Miles growls again, annoyed to no end—, nonetheless, the situation kept escalating.

At first it was just random flashes of things that were not there, like strange animals, other na'vi and even a whole ass ocean, which was worrisome in its own right, but however, it could have been easily explained as his consciousness adjusting to a new brain, a new body, a new planet…

Then the fucking voices started. Miles had taken it as a one time occurrence, the voice telling him to seal the bond —maybe his own mind trying to save his life, urging him to connect with the beast so they wouldn’t fall to their death together—, but it was not.

It started slow, in the beginning they were just dreams, sometimes he was weaving baskets, sometimes he was fishing, sometimes he was cooking, or swimming; most of the time he was next to the Sully kids he had almost captured, talking to them, interacting with them, and it was bizarre, and he would say even disturbing, but it was still manageable and the fact that they were lucid dreams and he could leave and just go anywhere else the prison of his own brain was what made it all bearable. He could still search the forest, he could still do his job.

Until that day. His team was hunting, they were out of rations, they needed food and Spider had told them that the best way to blend in and act like na'vi was hunting for their own food, skinning the prey and cooking it themselves; it was good, enjoyable even, an activity that humans also used to do decades ago when there were still enough resources for them to thrive.

As expected, Miles was the one to strike down their prey, and just when he was about to kill it for good with the knife, his team whooping and running to the spot to see the spoils, he heard it. A soft voice, the same one that he had heard the first time he flew, a little bit scared and a little bit nervous, but still recognizable, still making this animal inside his chest purr and ache at the same time. "Thank it for its sacrifice…", it was the voice of his so called mate, Neteyam.

So he did, a small na'vi prayer he did not know were he learned, just words that sounded right, and the feeling of satisfaction that was not his filling his brain was what finally made him react, what finally made him uneasy.

It just kept escalating from there, sudden warning shouts about his steps, ocasional feelings of pride when he learned something new from Spider, and even things that did not have anything to do with him. Thoughts of self-hatred, pain, angriness at the world, at Quaritch —himself, somehow, as if he was to blame for anything at all—, at Eywa, at the Sullys, at destiny.

"I want him gone," and that’s what brings him to the wretched lab in the Bridgehead, sitting on a stool in front of fucking Doctor Mills and her useless assistant to explain the way it all has been making his work difficult, making everything worse —even if it makes the animal in him purr with happiness, even if the voice makes the ache in his chest disappear—.

Doctor Mills just sighs, a thing she’s been doing a lot lately, and looks at him as if he’s stupid. "I can’t do anything, Colonel," she answers, "this bond I mentioned to you, thins bond I warned you about, it is nature following its course and nothing more. I can’t just remove it, it’s impossible, a procedure we have never tried and that could leave you in a state in which you wouldn’t be any use to us would not be worth it."

It feels like a bucket of iced water being poured on him, these are just feelings, they wouldn’t discard him like nothing over it, right? They are just annoying inconveniences, how could she not do anything at all? He growls then once again, hitting his fist on the table —leaving a big dent on it—, "how can you be so useless? I am serving my country in this goddamned place and you are supposed to be the expert helping-"

"I can always give you drugs, but they would null your senses," she interrupts, as unbothered as always, "I warned you about it, I told you to be prepared," then she stands taller, a glint in her eyes he had not seen before, "and you are supposed to be dead, Quaritch, do not forget who made it possible for you to be breathing and screaming and whining about the nature of the body that makes you being here achievable."

Miles is stunned into silence then, ragged breathing filling the room, fangs bared and fists shaking while she turns around signaling for her assistant to take the clipboard with his expedient away.

"I also believe you now might have and idea of where Jake Sully is hiding, use that perceived weakness as your advantage, you have a duty to your world and a mission to fulfill."

---

 

EASTERN SEA

 

It had been good, the way the Metkayina Clan had received them —had received him, a traitor and nothing more than that—, even with their Tsahìk's reluctance, with her rage, Tonowari had been nothing but a good, gracious host. They were good, even if his mother had made him hide his soul-mark before landing on the island, even if his father had told the rest of the family to not mention who Neteyam’s soulmate was, what his mark said.

And that is why he does not understand, why he is so angry, so full of rage, this emotion that feels so alien yet like it belongs, bubbling in his chest at the smallest provocation. It scares him, the way it all started when the dreams started too, the way it all just can mean that these thoughts and impulses and feelings are not his.

It all reaches its lowest point when Lo'ak gets into a fight with the olo’eyktan's son and his friends; Neteyam is standing there, trying not to react, trying to be the good son his father wants, but his omega instincts are flaring up.

He knows Lo'ak can handle himself, but he also knows that’s his little brother got into a fight to defend Kiri who is still unpresented, nothing more than a pup. And there is something, making him clench his fist until his knuckles crack, makings his blood boil, making the omega in him crave for a fight to satisfy the need to defend the pack's pups.

So he bares his fangs and does just that, he fights.

 

---

 

"You are angry," Neteyam does his best to not scoff at the understatement while Kiri lowers herself to sit on the sand next to him, "the sky looks beautiful tonight, doesn’t it?"

He doesn’t answer, knowing better, knowing that if he said anything right now it would not be anything good. At the silence, she leans onto him, and Neteyam can’t stop his muscles from tensing when her milky scent that characterizes unpresented pups reaches his nose. He can’t remember the last time Kiri hugged him, the last time they scented each other like pack is supposed to, the last time she asked to come into his nest to just spend time together.

The scent makes him uneasy now.

So Neteyam moves apart a little bit, putting space in between them. Kiri notices, but when she opens her mouth is not to mention that, "I know that anger is not yours," she says instead. And that just makes everything worse. Because if it is not his, then it is his alpha's, if it is not his, then he is letting everything overwhelm him, if it is not his…

There is just no way, all this hate, all this pain. It is Neteyam’s pain and no one else’s.

"You’re wrong," he ignores the little gasp that escapes his sister's lips at the hardness of his voice and keeps his sight on the two moons hovering over the sea, untouchable and ethereal, "you’re wrong," he repeats, and ignores the way it sounds like he is trying to convince himself.

"I am angry, I am angry at the way all of you look at me, with sadness and pity, at the way I can’t even trust my own dreams and thoughts anymore," Neteyam stands then, trying to ignore the way tears form in his eyes and a lump forms in his throat, "I am angry at Eywa for giving me this burden, for tying me to a monster, and I am angry at fucking Quaritch!"

He turns to face his sister and notices that Kiri is looking at him then, actually looking at him for the first time in weeks, her eyes open wide in surprise and maybe apprehension. "At Quaritch?" She mumbles, and Neteyam can feel his own heart stop at the realization.

"I am angry at Quaritch… For not fighting hard enough to keep me."

Kiri's shocked gasp is the only thing he hears before running.

 

Notes:

Hohohoho, we are finally getting to the 'feelings realization' part of their story, consider me officially EXCITED.

Once again, thank you for your kind comments, they really give me inspiration to write. Hope you liked this quick update! Thanks for reading!

Notes:

I don’t know what this is, it’s terrible, I’m terrible, don’t kill me.