Chapter Text
Neteyam woke up convinced of two things.
One: someone had stolen his tongue.
Two: whoever did it had left cotton in its place.
He blinked blearily at the too bright lights above him, brows knitting together as his mouth worked uselessly around the gauze packed inside. A low, offended sound rumbled in his chest.
“Mmmh—mmh—!”
Lo’ak leaned into his field of vision immediately, phone already raised. “And he’s up,” he announced, delighted. “Ladies and gentlemen, the beast awakens.”
Neteyam glared or at least tried to. It came out more confused than threatening. He lifted a hand, pawing weakly at his mouth, then pointed accusingly at Lo’ak.
“Dey took it,” he slurred.
“Took what?” Lo’ak prompted, zooming in just a little.
Neteyam’s eyes went wide with betrayal. “M’tonge,” he said mournfully. “Is gone.”
Kiri snorted from the other side of the recovery room. “They didn’t take your tongue, idiot. You just had surgery.”
Neteyam shook his head slowly, gravely. “No. Is gone. I feel it.”
Neytiri stepped closer, smoothing a hand over his hair with practiced gentleness. “Your tongue is still there, ma’ite,” she said, voice warm and soothing. “You are just numb.”
Neteyam considered this, eyes narrowing in deep suspicion. Then his face crumpled slightly.
“Can I stay home fom skool?” he asked.
Lo’ak lost it. Full-on cackling, shoulders shaking. “Bro— you already are home from school.”
Neteyam frowned. “No… I gotta go.”
“No, you don’t,” Neytiri said patiently.
“But—” he started, then stopped, clearly derailed. “…I don’t wanna.”
Jake, standing near the door with the discharge papers, chuckled under his breath. “You’re not going anywhere, champ. We’re taking you home.”
Neteyam squinted at him. “Home?”
“Yes.”
“Like… now?”
“Yes.”
He nodded once, then again, like he needed to lock the information in. A beat passed.
“We’re goin’ home?” he asked again.
Neytiri smiled. “Yes.”
Another pause.
“We’re actually goin’ home?”
Lo’ak wheezed. “This is gold.”
“Yes, Neteyam,” Neytiri said, amused now. “We are going home.”
Satisfied at last, Neteyam relaxed back into the chair with a heavy sigh, eyes fluttering. Then, suddenly, he perked up.
“Can I get a shake?”
Jake raised a brow. “A milkshake?”
Neteyam nodded earnestly. “A blu one.”
Lo’ak grinned. “Say less.”
The drive-through was a mistake. A very funny mistake.
Neteyam clutched the cup with both hands like it was precious cargo, eyes locked on the straw with intense concentration. He leaned forward, lips pursed and took a careful sip.
Or tried to.
Half of it immediately dribbled straight back out, down his chin and onto his hoodie.
Lo’ak screamed. “NO WAY—”
“I’m deleting your phone,” Kiri snapped, reaching over to swat at Lo’ak’s arm as he laughed so hard he nearly dropped it. “Stop teasing him!”
She was smiling though. They all were.
Neytiri laughed quietly to herself from the passenger seat, shoulders shaking. Jake just shook his head, lips twitching as he pulled the car back onto the road.
Tuk leaned over from the back, eyes sparkling. “You are messy,” she giggled.
Neteyam blinked at the mess, then looked up, devastated. “It escaped.”
“That shake did not survive you,” Lo’ak said between laughs.
Neteyam frowned deeply at the cup. “…Rude.”
Once home, Neteyam was deposited carefully onto the lounge, wrapped in a blanket like an overgrown burrito. His eyelids drooped, but his mind was clearly still wandering strange places.
Everyone had just settled when he suddenly sat up straighter.
“Hey,” he said.
All heads turned.
“Can Ao’nung come over?”
The words came out slurred enough that it sounded more like: “Can Aah-nun g’come ova?”
Lo’ak blinked. “What?”
Neteyam repeated it, slower this time, exaggerated. “Ao’nung.”
“Oh,” Lo’ak said, a grin spreading. “Why would you want fish lips here?”
Neteyam groaned, flopping back dramatically. “Nooo— don’t say dat.”
Kiri’s brows lifted. “You want Ao’nung… now?”
Neteyam nodded solemnly. “He’s… nice.”
Lo’ak leaned over him. “You’re drugged.”
Neteyam waved a hand weakly. “Am not.”
“You absolutely are.”
Neteyam tried to respond, but it came out as a long, incoherent mumble, brows furrowed in frustration as his mouth refused to cooperate.
“…mmf— he smells good,” he finally managed.
The room went silent.
Then Tuk burst out laughing.
Kiri covered her mouth, eyes wide. Neytiri raised a brow, very interested. Jake coughed into his hand.
Lo’ak stared at his brother, delighted. “Oh, I am never letting this go.”
Neteyam squinted at them all, then slumped back into the cushions with a tired sigh.
“…Miss’im,” he murmured, eyes already closing.
And for once—just once—Lo’ak didn’t say anything at all.
...........................
Lo’ak absolutely sent the video to Tsireya first.
No hesitation. No shame.
He flopped onto the arm of the chair, thumbs flying as he attached the clip Neteyam mid–tongue-theft rant, eyes glassy, voice thick and slurred.
Lo’ak: look at him 😭
The reply came almost immediately.
Tsireya: Oh my god— Lo’ak 😭
Tsireya: He’s so out of it
Tsireya: Don’t tease him. And DEFINITELY don’t send this to Ao’nung.
There was a pause.
Then—
Tsireya: …okay maybe it’s a little funny.
Lo’ak grinned, utterly unrepentant.
“In good taste,” he muttered to himself, already forwarding it.
First to Rotxo.
The response was instant. A flood of laughing emojis, one crying face, then another message.
Rotxo: IS HE DRUNK
Rotxo: PLEASE tell me he said I smell good too
Lo’ak snorted, barely containing himself.
Then he sent it.
To Ao’nung.
He watched the chat like it was a live broadcast.
The typing bubble appeared.
Stopped.
Appeared again.
Stopped.
Lo’ak leaned forward, eyes bright. “Oh this is better than cable.”
Another few seconds passed.
Finally, the message came through.
Ao’nung: Is he doing, okay?
Lo’ak blinked.
“…Wow,” he whispered. “That was not the reaction I expected.”
Still, chaos demanded commitment.
He stood, carefully circling the couch to get the perfect angle. Neteyam was completely out cold now, head tipped back, mouth still full of gauze, lips parted slightly. A faint smear of blue milkshake stained the front of his shirt like evidence of a lost battle.
Lo’ak snapped the photo and sent it immediately.
Lo’ak: yeah he’s fine 😂
Kiri looked up just in time to see him hit send.
She jabbed him hard in the ribs. “Lo’ak! You’re awful.”
“Ow—!” He hissed, clutching his side. “What? He’s fine!”
“He’s drugged, drooling, and unconscious,” she shot back. “That’s a vulnerable state.”
Lo’ak glanced at Neteyam, then back at his phone as another message popped up.
The typing bubble started again.
Paused.
Then—
Ao’nung: …Tell him I hope he feels better.
Lo’ak’s grin softened just a fraction—barely noticeable, gone as quickly as it came.
Still.
He looked over at his brother, dead asleep, mumbling faint nonsense into the couch cushion, and laughed quietly.
“Man,” he murmured. “You’re never living this down.”