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ð ððŸðððððâðððŸ ððºððððºððŸð ððððððð ðððŸ ðºð¿ððŸðððºðð ðð¿ ððŸð ðððœððºððððð, ððŸððð
ðððð ðð ððºððŸ ðºððœ ððŸððððð ððºðððð ðððŸðð ðððð ðŒððð¿ðððððð ððŸð ð»ðŸðððŸðŸð ðº ððððœ ð¿ðºððð
ð ððŸððððð.
ðœð®ð¶ð¿ð¶ð»ðŽ: ðððŸ ððð
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ð!ð¿ðŸð!ððŸðºðœðŸð
ðð®ð¿ð»ð¶ð»ðŽð: ðºðððð, ðððð»ðºð»ð
ð, ðºððœ ððŸðºðð, ðððð ð
ðððŸð
ð. ð¿ð
ðð¿ð¿, ðððððð»ð
ð. ððºððŸ & ððŸððððð ð»ðŸððð ðððŸ ð»ðŸðð ððºððŸððð. ððŸððŸððºð ð»ðŸððð ðððŸ ð»ðŸðð ðððð ð»ðððððŸð. ð¿ðºððð
ð ð
ðððŸ. ðŒðºððð-ðœðððŸðððŸðð ð¿ððð ðððŸ ðððððŸ, ðð ðð ððððð
ðŸðð. ðððððœ ððŸðððð ððððð ðð¿ ðððŸð. ðððŸ ðð¿ ððºâðð ð
ðºððððºððŸ (ðððŸððŸâð ðº ð
ðð)
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ððºðððºð ð¿ðð ðððºð ðððððŸ. ðððð ðð ðð¿ð¿ððŒððºð
ð
ð ðððŸ ð
ððððŸðð ððºðð ðð¿ ðððŸ ððŸðððŸð, ðºððœ ðºð
ðð ðððŸ ð
ðºðð. ððððð ðð ðððð ððŸ ðº ðððð
ðŸ ðð ððŸð ðð ððð ððŸððŸ, ð»ðð ðœð ððð ð¿ððŸð, ðððŸððŸ ðð ððððð ðð ð»ðŸ ðº ððŸðððŸð
. ð ðºð ððð ððððŸ ððð ðð ð¿ðŸðŸð
ðºð»ððð ðððð ððºðð ððð, ð ð¿ðŸðŸð
ð
ðððŸ ð ðœððœ ððð ðœð ðð ððððððŒðŸ ðºððœ ð¿ððŒðððŸðœ ððððŸ ðð ððððŸ ðŒððºððºðŒððŸðð ðððºð ððððŸðð, ð»ðð ðâð
ð
ððððŸð¿ðð
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ð ððºððŸ ðð ðð ðð ðâðºð
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ðððð ðððŸ ððŸðððŸð
. ððð ððððŸ ðâð
ð
ð»ðŸ ðœðððð ðº ððºðð
ððð ð¿ðð ðððºð ðððŸ, ð»ðð ðâðœ ð»ðŸ ððð
ð
ððð ðð ððºð ðððððŸ ðâððŸ ððŸðŸð ððððŸððºðŒðððð ðððð ð£ð€ ðšð¬ðᅵᅵððÌ ð¡ððð© ððððð£ð ðð¿ ðððŸð ððºðð ðð :)
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ðŸ; ðððºð | ðºð®âð¶ðð®ð»: ðð ððð | ðððºððžð²: ðððððŸð | (ðºð®â) ð¶ðð²ðððð¶Ìðœ: (ðð) ð
ðððð
ðŸ ðœðºðððððŸð | ððžð»ð¶ðºð®ðð®: ð²ððºððððºð ðð ð§ðŸðºððŸð; ðððŸ ððððŸ ðð¿ ððºðððºððŸ ð¿ðð ððððð ððºâðð | ðð²ðºðœð: ðœðºðœ (ðºð¿ð¿ðŸðŒðððððºððŸ ð¿ððð) | ðºð®âð¶ðð²: ðð ðœðºðððððŸð | ððð®ðºðð¶ðð: ððºððððð | ð¢ð²ð¹ ð»ðŽð®ðð¶ ðžð®ðºð²ð¶ð²: ðš ððŸðŸ ððð | ðð®âð»ðŒðž: ðððððŸð | ððð®ðµð²ðð¹ð: ð»ðððœ | ðððºððžð®ð»: ð»ðððððŸð | ðð®âð»ð: ððð (ðºð¿ð¿ðŸðŒðððððºððŸ ð¿ððð) | ðºð®âð²ðð²ð»ðŽ: ðð ðŒððð
ðœ
ðð²ð¿ð¶ð²ð ðºð®ððð²ð¿ð¹ð¶ðð || ðð ðððºðððÌ ð
ðŸð¿ð ð»ðŸððððœ: ððºðð. ððð || ðºð®ð¶ð» ðºð®ððð²ð¿ð¹ð¶ðð
     That night, as the night sky settles outside of High Camp, Jake paces back and forth into the family pod, running a hand through his hair and over his face. Lines of fatigue crease his features, crinkles of worry ever so present in the corner of his eyes. For the first time since he landed on Pandora, nearly two decades ago, he does not know what to do. A fatherâs duty is to protect his family, but as the Oloâyektan of the Omatikaya People, he must also protect the People. As he looks outside through the crack in the flaps of the tent, he sighs and lets his thoughts wander to his daughter.
     When Norm came earlier, with Max, he had assured him that Y/N did not suffer from any internal injuries or broken bones. Jake had let out a relieved sigh then, but why wasnât she waking up?
     Jake thinks of his daughter, and the memories of her, as he sits outside, looking out to the stars in the eclipseâs sky before the tears come. It blurs his vision, turns his breath short as his chest heaves and falls in painful movements. His heart squeezes beneath his ribcage, almost suffocating him as the worry grows in his mind. He feels helpless, unable to help his daughter. He failed in his duties as a father towards his daughter; he failed to protect her, the one thing heâd sworn to do the very night she was born and he held her for the first time, unaware that his first-born son awaited for him sixteen minutes after her.
     Jake cannot fail again. He must protect his family from the Sky People, even if it means to leave the rainforest and seek uturu someplace else. He knows Neytiri does not agree with this, but he must protect his fortress.
     Each intake of air becomes more painful and burns his throat, and Jake is unable to keep his focus on something. The Oloâyektan who always seemed sure of himself, whoâs always known what to do, guided by his fierce muntxa and the Tsahìk by his side, crumbles under the weight of fear on his shoulders.
     Lost in his thoughts, and in the panic that settles in his mind, Jake does not notice it when Neytiri comes to sit beside him, her tail wrapping itself around his midriff. He does not move, not until Neytiriâs hand is on his cheek, softly turning his head towards her. He inhales shakily, remorses and uncertainty hidden behind the glow of his yellow eyes.
     âWhat is it, maâJake?â Neytiri asks, her voice soft.
     She attempts a smile, but the frown on her muntxaâs forehead lets her know it is of no use. She caresses his cheek instead, the pad of her thumb rubbing over his cheekbone in gentle strokes, and her heart flutters when he leans into her touch, grabbing onto her wrist to keep himself grounded.
     âI failed herâŠâ Jake says, voice breaking as he speaks. âI have failed our daughterâŠâ
     âOur daughter has a strong heart, maâJake.â Neytiriâs voice is comforting, soft. âYou did not fail her. She is here with us. She is safe.â
     âI thought we lost her, Neytiri. I thought we lost herâŠâ
     Jake closes his eyes, breathing deeply, and the memories of when he found Y/N come back, imprinting themselves onto his retinas as a haunting memory of what he believes to be his failure. Neytiriâs hand on his cheek grounds him, and when he opens his eyes again, she is looking at him with her head tilted and her muscle brows pulled together in a frown. He knows there is no point in hiding anything to her, because she can see through him like an open book. He takes a deep breath, looking past her shoulder to the Tsahìkâs tent where Y/N rests, before he speaks again.
     âWhen I found Neteyam,â he starts to explain, âhe told me he could not feel her; that he could not feel her pain anymore. He was holding onto her so tight his knuckles became white. He was cradling her, shielding her from anyone with his body. He almost did not want me to take herâŠâ A pause. Jake inhales sharply while Neytiri holds her breath. âWhen I held her in my arms, when I held Y/N⊠I could barely see her chest moving. I was not sure she was alive. I thought⊠I thought we would be burying our daughter tonightâŠâ
      Jake crumbles down as soon as the last words leave his lips, and silent sobs rack through his body. It is unlike him to fall apart in front of Neytiri, let alone in front of everyone. He is Toruk Makto, the mighty warrior who led the clans to victory against the Sky People, and crying is not in the nature of Toruk Makto.
     But tonight⊠Tonight, Toruk Makto, Oloâyektan of the Omatikaya People, is simply Jake Sully, a father and a husband, afraid to see his family torn apart by the same species he has tried to bury deep within him. Tonight, Jake sheds the mantle of Toruk Makto, and lets himself be vulnerable in front of his mate. He doesnât hold back the tears that come flooding his waterline, nor does he hide his pain. He bears it bare, with his heart in his hands as he lets out all the worry and fear burdening him. He lets himself be a father, a father afraid and uncertain of whether his daughter will wake up.
     Neytiri watches with tears in her eyes as Jake wears his emotions on his arms, the first time heâs done so since sheâs met him. She can only offer him comfort, the grip of her tail tightening around Jakeâs midriff as she wraps her arms around his shoulders. And when his arms find refuge around her waist, she lets the tears fall. She allows the fear and the pain to leave her, relieving her body of an unbearable weight. And under the eclipseâs sky and the bright stars scattered across, they hold each other close in comfort, numbing the pain and the fear of nearly losing a child.
â
      That night, after High Camp falls asleep, Neteyam sneaks out of the family pod, and stealthily makes his way to the Tsahìkâs tent where he knows his twin sister rests. The waytelem that hangs from the string of his loincloth hits his thigh softly, and he finds himself holding a blue bead between his fingers, fiddling with it. He thinks of its significance, the birth of his twin sister just sixteen minutes before him, and he hears the song sung by his mother, a distant echo of an old memory he did not know he had.
     When he reaches his grandmotherâs healing tent, he pulls the flaps open and sneaks inside, his eyes falling onto Y/N, covered under thick blankets to keep her body warm. Neteyam smiles to himself, the pain now a phantom ache on his side, and he knows his grandmotherâs healing paste is working.
     Slowly, he lays beside his twin sister, his tail instinctively going around her waist above the blankets. It is a habit heâs kept since they were infants, a gesture of comfort to one another. He remembers the first time heâs done so, when on a quiet eclipse, thunder suddenly boomed across the sky and Y/N flinched in her sleep beside him, waking him up in the process. Heâd found her whimpering in her sleep as fear slowly crept under his skin, until he realized what it was that she was scared of, when a lightning bolt brightened the eclipse sky. He had wrapped his tail around her waist then, pulling her close to him, and his body relaxed as a wave of comfort brought both of their bodies peace for the remainder of the night.
     Neteyam rolls closer to Y/N, his chest pressed against her arm that lays flat beside her, and he draps an arm over her stomach, relishing in the way it would rise and fall slowly, a sign that air was flowing through her lungs. His eyes focus on the tanhì across his sisterâs face, connecting them together in his mind as they glow softly under the dim light of the healing tent. From time to time, his gaze stops on the different cuts and bruises he can see on Y/Nâs body, and his heart aches at the sight. Even if he has the slightest idea of what has happened, he still wonders about what sheâs had to go through with the Sky People.
     Lost in thoughts, and with sleep slowly consuming him, Neteyam does not notice it when his grandmother steps inside the healing tent to check on Y/N.
     Moâat smiles when she sees her grandchildren together, Neteyam having fallen asleep beside his twin. She grabs a blanket that lays around somewhere and drapes it over her grandson, providing him with some warmth to keep him asleep through the night. She knows of Jakeâs plan to leave the rainforest and, as much as it pains her to see her family leaving, she knows it is for the best. To protect the People until the Sky People leave Pandora for good. But it does not mean her heart does not break, to think of her family having to flee, in order to protect the rest of them. So, for as long as she is able to, she will bask into the sight of her grandchildren together, until their voices and laughter becomes a memory set in stone in her mind.
     When morning comes, Neteyam wakes up with the sun rays caressing his face, and a cold empty space beside him. When he realizes it, he sits up abruptly, eyes wide and frantic as he looks around. He is in his grandmotherâs Tsahik tent, that he knows for certain, but he was also certain that his unconscious twin sister laid beside him when he involuntarily fell asleep last eclipse. He tugs at his braids, breath becoming heavier as he searches for his twin. How did she leave? Did she ever leave at all? Did they not get her back from the Sky People at Bridgehead? Numerous questions slither their way into his brain, as his breathing pattern quickens and tears linger at his waterline.
     He takes a trembling breath, grounding himself as he closes his eyes, and he pushes the anxiety back until he no longer feels it. Instead, he focuses on the numbing pain that settles on his right side, and the tingles that litter his arms and chest. His sister is awake. He knows she is, because he feels her pain. It does not hurt as much, more comforting than anything else, and the wave of peace that fills him lets him know that Y/N is fine. What worries him, however, is not knowing where she has run off to, especially as she is wounded and not fully healed.
     Neteyam stays still for a minute, gathering his thoughts, and when it dwells on her that his sister no longer is inside the Tsahìkâs tent, panic flashes in his irises, and he rushes outside to find his parents. His long legs carry him faster than his mind can comprehend, looking anywhere but in front of him, and his body collides full-force into another taller and stronger frame.
     âNeteyam? What is wrong?â
     He recognizes his fatherâs voice before he sees him, and he almost wishes he didnât lift his head up to look at Jake. Because Jake knows his son, and as soon as he sees the tears in his eyes, panic fills his mind like a tidal wave. He sees Neteyamâs lips quiver as his mouth opens and closes without any word coming out of it, and Jake has to firmly press his hands into his sonâs shoulders to keep him focused.
      âS-sheâs goneâŠâ Neteyam stutters out, his fatherâs hands grounding him. âY/N⊠s-sheâs gone!â
     âWhat do you mean, âgoneâ?â
     Jake asks, voice cracking under the pressure and the fear that makes home in his chest. His eyes, usually hard as stone and cold, soften upon seeing Neteyamâs distress, and he tries his best to hide his own rising anxiety.
     âS-she⊠she was asleep sir, I swear she was, last eclipse.â Neteyam rambles, panic dripping from his voice. âI-I saw her b-but then I woke up, and s-sheâs gone. Y/Nâs gone!â
     Jake glanced past his sonâs shoulder towards the Tsahìkâs tent, brows pulled together in confusion. Heâs seen his daughter before the last eclipse, when Norm came to check on her for any internal bleeding or broken bones. Heâd said there wasnât anything, but that Y/N would not regain consciousness for a few days.
     When Jake looks back at his eldest son, he sees the tears rolling down Neteyamâs cheeks. Heâs rarely ever seen his eldest cry, neither of the twins ever did cry in front of him and Neytiri. Of course they did, when they were infants, but they stopped crying in front of their parents when they first began their training as warriors of the clan.
     Jake swallows the growing lump that forms in his throat, as the realization settles in his mind. He has been too hard on his kids, always asking his eldests to set an example for his youngest, to keep an eye on Loâak to keep him out of trouble. He realizes now, that either Neteyam or Y/N always took the blame for Loâak, to protect him from their fatherâs angry scolds and stares. It is the first time in years that Jake sees his first-born son cry, and he is completely clueless as to what to do. Instinctively though, his arms go around Neteyamâs shoulders, and he brings him closer to his chest, one hand resting behind his sonâs head. He takes a deep breath, chest rising and falling slowly with the action, and he looks down on Neteyam with a soft stare.
     âWhat do you feel, maâitan?â Jake asks, wondering about the twin connection between Neteyam and Y/N. âWhat are your tsmukeâs emotions?â
     Neteyam shakes his head, sniffling. He can sense her pain, but itâs a phantom sensation now; it doesnât hurt as much as it did the previous day. His arms, chest and thighs tingle where his sister has cuts and bruises on her skin, but it isnât as uncomfortable as it was when he found her in Bridgehead.
     He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, tilting his head as he focuses on the emotions that travel through his body. He pushes down the anxiety that rises up his throat, searching deep down for the pull that connects him to Y/N. When he finds it, tugging at his heartstrings like a warm embrace, he smiles, and he focuses on it. He feels the warmth that spreads from it, the soft tingling that flutters into the pit of his stomach, and a wave of calmness submerges him, encompassing the anxiety until itâs no longer traveling through every muscle. His lips curve into a soft smile without him knowing it, and his eyes flutter open to look at his father.
     âShe is happy.â Neteyam smiles, sighing. âAt peace. She isnât hurting much anymore. Not like yesterday. B-but⊠I donât know where she isâŠâ
     Jake lets out a breath he did not know he was holding, eyes fluttering shut in relief upon hearing his sonâs words. His daughter is awake, and seemingly well. At peace, like Neteyam has said. But the worry is ever present in Jakeâs mind, thinking back on his daughterâs injuries and the gunshot wound that is still healing on her side. What if it reopens and she starts bleeding again? And what if it bleeds again and he isnât there to make sure she does not bleed out to death? She has already lost so much blood, and he cannot risk losing her. He cannot.
     Jake untangles his arms from around his sonâs shoulders, and he looks past his own shoulder when he hears soft footsteps behind him. Neytiri stands there, a couple feet away from them, with her brow muscles pulled together in concern as she gazes up at her eldest son and the tears that stick on his cheeks. Her eyes then find those of her muntxa, and she reads the anxiety that hides behind his glowing yellow irises. She takes a deep breath as she approaches them both, resting a hand on Jakeâs shoulders.
     âWhat is it maâJake?â She asks him, worry laced in her words.
     âOur itetsyìp is awake.â
     Jake lets out a breath as he says so, his lips curving into a thin-lipped smile across his features. He fully turns towards Neytiri, and he places his hands on each side of her face, thumbs brushing across her cheekbones.
     âOur itetsyìp is awake.â Jake repeats, as the realization settles in.
     âWhere is she?â Neytiri asks, letting out a breath. âWhere is she?â
     Neteyam shakes his head when Neytiri looks at him, and she tilts her head in confusion when she glances back at Jake.
     Jake takes a deep breath, eyes fluttering close in thoughts, and memories of his first-born daughter come flooding his mind. He smiles to himself when he remembers the first time sheâs ever held a bow and learned to fire her arrows, or when she and Neteyam got into an argument that resulted in both of them scraping their knees and twisting their right ankle. Then, he remembers a moment, when he was alone with Y/N before she had to pass her Iknimaya.
     They were sitting under the Tree of Voices, surrounded by blue and purple shades from the glowing tendrils falling from the tree around them. He sits beside her as she looks down at her hands in her lap, fiddling with her fingers. He sees the lines on her forehead, a distinct sign of her being anxious or worried. He has a vague idea of why she would be in such a state, but he wants to hear her say it.
      âWhat is wrong, babygirl?â He asks her, nudging her side softly. âTell me whatâs going on in that pretty mind of yours.â
     Y/N heaves out a sigh, shaking her head. She sniffles, wiping her nose with the palm of her hand, before she looks up into her fatherâs eyes, and Jake can see the fear lingering beneath her glowing yellow orbs.
     âWhat if I am not strong enough, sempu?â She asks, voice breaking slightly. âWhat if Iâm not strong like Neteyam, and I canât pass through it? Will I be cast out from the clan?â
     Jake smiles softly, brushing some braids away from his daughterâs face before he caresses her cheek, stroking her warm skin with his thumb.
     âDad, what if I am not good enough for this?â
     Y/N lets out a frustrated sigh at that, moving her face from her fatherâs touch and lowering it to look at the ground. Jake frowns, brows pulled together and creasing a line on his forehead as the gears turn in his mind. He does not know what to say, so instead he pulls her closer by wrapping his arms around her shoulders. He smiles when she rests her head against his chest, and he dips his head down to kiss the crown of her head.
     âYou are ready, maâite.â Jake whispers, rubbing circles into the skin of her upper arm. âYou are the strongest tsamsiyu amongst the Naâvi of your age. You managed to take your ikran faster than Neteyam ever did, and I have seen you when you had your first clean kill. You will do just fine, babygirl.â
     âI-I donât know, dadâŠâ
     âMaâite.â
     Jake whispers, cradling Y/Nâs face in his hands to make her look at him. He rubs his thumbs across her cheeks, eyes boring into hers and he sees his little girl again, the one he held in his arms whenever sheâs had a nightmare. He smiles, and his hands settle on her shoulders, giving them a firm squeeze.
     âOel ngati kameie, Y/N.â Jake says with a smile. âI see you, my daughter.â
     Y/N smiles then, wrapping her arms around her fatherâs neck as all her worries vanish from her buzzing mind, relishing in the presence of her father next to her.
     Jake smiles and blinks several times when he is pulled out from memory lane by Neytiri shaking him gently. He tilts his head, raising a brow, before his eyes fall onto the worried state of his eldest son.
     âI may have an idea of where your sister has gone to.â
â
     There is beauty to a childâs innocence, but innocence once lost can never be regained, and the Sully family would soon learn it the hard way.
     Y/N lays under the Tree of Voices when Jake finds her. Her eyes are closed, but he cannot tell whether she is asleep or unconscious until he sees her fingers twitch against her chest. Her skin is littered with cuts and bruises, and the gunshot wound on her abdomen is still covered with the green paste Moâat had applied during last eclipse.
     Jake smiles upon seeing her, and he kneels down to sit beside her resting figure, legs crossed. He puts his gun down next to him and pulls his visor up on his forehead, before he brings one hand to caress his daughterâs cheek.
     Y/nâs eyes snap open, and her hand flies to Jakeâs wrist in a heartbeat, squeezing to push the hand away from her face. Jake is slow to react, watching as his daughter scrambles to her feet and stands panting, hands on her knees. Her body shakes, and her frantic eyes keep looking around until they land on him and she tilts her head in confusion. Jake raises his hands and arms up in defense, heart squeezing in his chest at the thought of Y/N being afraid of him.
     âHey babygirl, itâs me. Dad.â Jake whispers, taking a step towards Y/N. âIâm not gonna hurt you maâite. You are safe here, itâs just us.â
     Y/N shakes her head, blinking several times to keep her tears at bay until she canât anymore and they roll down her cheeks like waterfalls. Her chest heaves up and down rapidly with the shallow breaths that leave through her lips. She takes a step back every time Jake tries to step closer to her, and she raises a trembling hand in warning, hoping heâd stop walking towards her. She flinches when her palm is pressed against his chest, and she can feel his heart beating behind his ribcage. Her eyes widen at the touch, and she hurries to take her hand off of his chest, but Jake is quicker this time, and he wraps his slender fingers around her wrist, pressing her hand back against his chest as he steps closer.
     His eyes soften when he notices just how much her body is trembling, and the never-ending tears that roll down her cheeks. He wonders then, about the things that go on inside his daughterâs head, and how he can help her ease her mind. He offers her a soft smile, tilting his head as he does so, and he watches as her brow muscles pull together into a confused frown.
     Jake usually sees how much Y/N resembles her twin brother, but all he can see now is the fear that hides behind her frantic yellow irises, the quiver of her lips as sobs break through and shake her entire body. He sees how her knees buckle under her weight, and he is quick enough to hold her against his side as she crumbles under the weight on her shoulders. He sits the both of them down on the mossy ground, under the glowing tendrils that provide blue and purple shades of light, and he presses a hand against her face as she rests it against his chest. He stays like this with her for a while, waiting until her sobs tone down to quiet sniffles, and he looks down on her when she pushes herself from him.
      âI-is this real?â Y/N dares to ask, lips trembling. âA-are you real? A-am I not d-dreaming?â
     Y/N puts distance between her and Jake, scurrying a couple feet away from him, but she keeps herself seated on the ground. She fiddles with her fingers in her lap as she looks up to the tree of Voices, the tears now silently rolling down her already moist cheeks. Soft hiccups leave her chest whenever she takes a breath, and although he knows she is hurting, Jake cannot help the smile that curves his lips upward when he is reminded of a time when she was younger and suffered a bad case of hiccups. Sheâd come up to him, pouting and with her cat-like nose scrunched up, body shaking with each hiccup that left her lips.
     The reality of the situation catches up to him when Y/N inhales sharply, and Jake looks up to see his daughter pressing a hand against her right side, hissing softly at her touch. His ears flatten against his scalp, and he scouts over closer to her, gently taking her hand in his to take a look at her injury.
     âIs it⊠Is it supposed to hurt, if I am with the Great Mother now?â
     Y/Nâs voice catches Jake off of guard, and he lifts his head up to look at her. It is as if the tears were never there, although he can still see the moist trails staining her cheeks, but instead of a pout, he finds her smiling at him, the sharp edge of her fangs slipping through her slightly parted lips.
     âW-what?â
     Jake breathes out in disbelief. Did she think she was dead and he was seeing her through his connection with the tree of Voices?
     When he sees she is watching him with an expectant gaze, he sighs and lowers his head to glance down at her gunshot wound to make sure it isnât infected and that it is healing properly. He shakes his head then, after mulling over her question over and over, and his hands find hers, squeezing them softly.
     âYou are not with the Great Mother, maâite.â Jake whispers, afraid that if he spoke too loud he would scare her. âThis is not a dream babygirl. This,â he points between them both, âis real. I am real, and you are real.â
     A breath gets caught up in Y/Nâs throat, lips quivering as she looks up to the man before her. She recognizes him as a face from her circle of acquaintances. His eyes, slightly smaller than a real Naâviâs, the dark eyebrows and the tanhì littered across his face, are all familiar to her, but she cannot put a name to the warming smile that adorns his face. She wants to, because she can tell that the man knows her, and that he cares for her, but his name is stuck somewhere in the gray areas of her head; memories she cannot access.
     Jake seems to notice this, from the way her brow muscles pull together and crease a frown on her forehead. He sees her cat-like nose scrunching up in deep thought, the same way it always did when she got worried or heavily thinking. He smiles softly, tilting his head, and he brings one hand up to caress her cheek, brushing his thumb across the tanhì splattered on her skin in the shape of a star. He finds it ironic, how he came from a star, the Earth, and how his first-born child, his daughter, got graced with a tanhì-shaped star on her cheek. Still, he smiles at the detail, wiping away the tears that roll under his thumb, and his other hand comes up to cradle her face.
     âTell me whatâs going on in that pretty mind of yours, babygirl.â Jake says.
     Y/Nâs eyes widen at his words, and a wave of memories come crashing at the front of her mind. She trips backwards, but Jake is there to hold her back with his hands going down on her upper arms, and she blinks away the tears that linger at her waterline.
     She remembers being in the forest as the rain started to pour, and she remembers the stinging pain at the base of her neck where her queue connects with her head. As the memory rushes back to her forefront, one of her hands instinctively flies to her queue, gripping it softly when the phantom pain rises. She remembers her motherâs call and the arrow flying through the air before lodging itself in an avatarâs head. She remembers Kiri and Spider running away, and she remembers getting Tuktirey up before Loâak came and urged them to go forward. She remembers a missile exploding behind her and making her lose her balance, blacking out.
     And it comes back to her, the way Quaritch had spoken to her and how the Sky People threatened her family; the gunshot wound on her side and the men dressed in white blouses, cutting her skin and poking needles through her veins to draw blood until sheâd pass out. And she remembers Eywa, as she watched down onto her family, and the words the Great Mother had spoken to her.
     A trembling breath leaves her lips, and she lets the tears fall down her cheeks in slow cascades of water as her yellow orbs land on the figure before her. Her heart squeezes in her chest, pounding behind her ribcage as the manâs features become a comforting familiarity.
     âD-dad?â
     Y/N cries out, and as soon as the single word leaves her lips, Jake lets out a relieved laugh, wrapping his arms around her shoulders to bring her close to him. He tightens his grip on her when she buries her face in the crook of his neck, and her arms wrap around his midriff in a tight lock. Her tears soak his skin, sobs shaking her body, but Jake keeps his arms tightly secure around her, holding her until she calms down. Her body suddenly goes rigid against him, and Y/N uses all the strength she has left to push herself from her father.
     Tears still roll silently down her cheeks; her muscle brows are pinched together in a deep frown on her forehead, and her nose is scrunched up as she sniffles. Her wide eyes, glowing green under the lights from the tree of Voicesâ tendrils, frantically look around. Jake can see the fear and the worry settle behind his daughterâs irises, and he gently takes a hold of her forearms, his strong yet soft grip making her focus her eyes onto him.
      âWhat is it babygirl?â He asks her, voice soft.
     âA-are they safe?â Y/N stutters out, tears streaming down her face. âA-are my siblings safe?â The fear rises beneath her skin. âPlease, dad! Please, tell me they are safe! Iâm sorry! Iâm sorry I couldnât⊠Iâm sorry I couldnât protect them⊠Please, tell me theyâre safe! PleaseâŠâ
     Jakeâs heart squeezes within his chest upon hearing his daughterâs rambles and her apologies. He unwillingly lets the tears at his waterline roll down his cheeks as he wraps his arms around Y/Nâs shoulders and brings her closer to his chest. He cradles the back of her head with one hand when her cheek is pressed against his skin, and he brings his lips to the crown of her head. Rocking back and forth until her cries die down, he rubs his free hand up and down her back, drawing circles on her skin once in a while when he reaches the middle of her spine.
     âYour siblings are safe, maâite, thanks to you.â Jake whispers, and he feels the tip of her ears brush against his face. âThey are with your saânok and your grandmother, unharmed. You did protect them, my strong daughter.â
     A sob breaks through Y/Nâs lips, and her arms snake around her fatherâs midriff before she hugs him tightly, and Jake almost feels the air being knocked out of his chest from her strength. His hands stay on her back and head until her body stops trembling and her grip loosens around him, and he moves them to cup her face when she pulls away from him, sniffling. With his thumbs, he wipes away the remaining tears that stain her cheeks, and his heart flutters when she leans into his touch, eyelids dripping for a second as she revels into the warmth of his touch on her skin.
     âI-I died, didnât I sempu?â Y/N asks, looking up to her father.
     Jake heaves out a trembling breath as he brushes a strand of braided hair away from his daughterâs face, tucking it behind her ear. He can see many things swirling behind her irises, but he looks for the innocence for which his daughter is known amongst the People. His heart breaks when he cannot find it, and he wonders about the things she is hiding from him. He knows she will not tell him, because she is her fatherâs daughter, and he never told of his struggles to anyone after his career in the Marines ended on Earth. He hates it, that his daughter is so much like him in that aspect, keeping her emotions and thoughts to herself.
     âYou did babygirl.â Jake admits in a whisper, at last. He takes a breath, deep and slow. âBut the Great Mother has given us a second chance together. I will not fail you again, maâite.â
     Y/N shakes her head, processing her fatherâs words as trembling breaths leave her chest. Her hands find her fatherâs, and she squeezes them gently, the ghost of a smile gracing her features for a millisecond.
     âYou did not fail me dad.â Y/N says softly. âI chose to protect my siblings, like you taught me to.â
     âYou died, Y/N.â Jake breathes out in disbelief, as if his daughter hadnât heard him. âY/N. You died. You died and I could not do anything about it. I thought we would have to bury you last night!â
     Y/N blinks at her fatherâs outburst, eyes widening slightly when she sees the tears that begin to roll down his cheeks in slow cascades. She had died, and her father, the mighty Oloâyektan of the Omatikaya People, thought it had been his fault.
     âN-Neteyam?â Y/N breathes out, voice shaking.
     Jake knows instantly what his daughter is thinking, and he shakes his head. He keeps rubbing his thumbs across her cheeks softly as she grips onto his wrists, her nails slowly digging into his skin.
     âIs he⊠is he okay?â She asks, breathless.
     Jake inhales sharply. He does not know whether he should tell her. Neteyamâs face flashes back in his mind as he thinks of the moment when he found his eldest son cradling his twin sisterâs limp body in his arms, shielding her from harm with his own body, tears rolling down his cheeks. He remembers his sonâs broken voice as he whispered his pleas to the Great Mother, his words a haunting echo in the back of Jakeâs mind.
I canât feel her sempu. Her pain⊠Itâs all gone.
     Jake remembers those words all too well, and his body is racked with a sob, making his daughter pull away from him and look up to him with a frown on her beautiful, unharmed face. He cannot help but chuckle through the tears when he sees the way her nose is scrunched up, and how it forms crinkles in the corners of her teary eyes. He caresses the side of her face with one hand, fingers lingering under her chin, before he takes a deep breath.
     âYour brotherâŠâ Jake breathes out. âHe is the one whoâs found you, at Bridgehead. I came a bit after, and he was shielding your body with his own, to protect you. IâŠâ A pause. âI did not understand why, until Neteyam looked up to me, and he told me he couldnât feel you anymore. That he couldnât feel your painâŠâ
     Y/Nâs hand flies up to her mouth when a gasp leaves her lips. She doesnât have anymore tears to shed, and yet she is surprised when a single drop of salty water comes down to kiss her lips. Itâs then that she focuses on the pull at the center of her chest, the connection she shares with her twin brother, and she holds on to it when she finally grasps it. It lingers in the air like an invisible thread, pulling her forward to stand on her feet. And there is the guilt, and the fear, and the anxiety that linger at the very edge of that thread. It tugs at her heartstrings, mind reeling with the possible outcomes of everything that has happened until now. Her lips quiver when the knot in the pit of her stomach grows larger and she isnât sure whether it is hers, or Neteyamâs.
      Jake notices it, the grimace that breaks onto his daughterâs face as the gears turn in her mind. He inhales sharply, and he rises to his feet, his daughterâs hands still in his. He tugs on them and smiles when she stands up next to him, but she wobbles on her feet and he has to wrap his tail around her waist to keep her steady, given that both his hands were already taken.
     Y/N stumbles on her feet every once in a while as they walk up to Bob, his ikran, but Jake keeps a firm grip on her until he knows she is comfortable enough sitting on his mighty ride. He sits behind her, after tsaheylu with Bob is complete, and he secures her in his embrace, arms wrapped around her midriff.
     âReady to go home?â
     Jake asks and he smiles when Y/N nods her head, ears peeking up at the mention of home. He catches a glimpse of the worry that hides behind her glowing orbs, and with one last kiss on top of her head, Jake and his ride take off to the skies, ready to fly home.
     Y/N does not say anything during the flight home, and Jake knows something is not right. She did not make comments about the flora that surrounds them, nor did she speak excitedly about the stars slowly showing up in the sky as the eclipse comes closer. She always did so, whether it was during hunting parties or simple flights out with the whole family, and it always warmed Jakeâs heart to hear her little comments. But not tonight, and Jake knows there is something on her mind. He will not force it out of her, but he tells himself to keep an eye on her. He smiles though, when he feels her lean further into his embrace, looking for comfort into his arms. Instinctively, he tightens his hold around her, and he leans down to kiss the top of her head when Bob dives right towards the High Camp, hidden within the Hallelujah Mountains.
     When they finally land in the caveâs entrance, Jake helps Y/N slide off of his ikran, and he winces slightly when she squeezes his hand a little too hard. She hisses in pain as the skin on her side stretches with her movement, and he knows it is the bullet wound healing on her abdomen that causes her pain. Jake also knows that it will take Neteyam about two minutes before he shows up beside them after sensing his sisterâs pain.
     âYou okay babygirl?â
     Jake asks Y/N when her feet touch the ground. She is pressing her right hand against her right side and gripping his forearm with her left hand. Her lips form a thin line, and her eyes narrow together at the sudden pain that travels through her body. She nods once, and she tries her best to give her father a reassuring smile. She does not have time to say anything, as two arms wrap themselves around her midriff when a small body collides with her back. The force of impact sends her tumbling forwards slightly, but Jake is here to keep his daughter balanced, and a deep chuckle rumbles from his chest when he sees his youngest daughter past Y/Nâs shoulders.
     âTuk, let your tsmuke breathe a bit, will you?â
     âBut dad!â
     Tuktirey complains, drawing out the letter âaâ as she whines. Y/N shakes her head, a small yet tired smile making its way onto her lips as she turns around in her little sisterâs arms, patting her head gently.
     âHi Tuktuk.â Y/N chuckles. âIâm happy to see you too.â
     âI have missed you, tsmuke. Where have you been? Dad said you were not going to be home for a whileâŠâ
     Tuk pouts as she looks up to her sister. Y/Nâs heart squeezes in her chest, but she does not have it in her to explain to Tuk why she has been absent from home. Her sister, only seven years of age, does not need to know about the horrors of war. Eywa, let her keep her innocence just a little bit longer, Y/N thinks to herself as she kneels down to be the same size as her sister.
     âIt does not matter Tuktuk.â Y/N smiles, shaking her head. âI am home, arenât I?â
     Tuk nods her head, this time wrapping her arms around Y/Nâs shoulders and giving her older sister a big wet kiss on the cheek, before she pulls away giggling and skipping back to the family tent.
     Jake steps closer to his first-born child, and he watches as his youngest returns to their home. One of his hands finds Y/Nâs shoulder for comfort, and his heart swells when she leans into him, resting her head against his chest.
     âThree.â Jake begins to mumble and Y/N smiles knowingly. âTwo. One.â
     Just then, a small crowd of blue Naâvi rushes out of the place they call home, and Y/N can see her mother leading the small party. She pushes herself away from her fatherâs arms and braces herself for impact, her hand still carefully pressed against the healing gunshot wound on her side. She expects her mother to be the first to embrace her, but she does not think about Neteyam, who speeds past their mother with his arms wide open, and he almost runs head first into his sister, sending her tumbling backward a little.
     On instinct, Neteyam wraps his arms around his twin sisterâs shoulders and buries his face in the crook of her neck, his tail wrapping itself around her waist. His tears soak her skin, and Y/N cannot help but bury her face in his neck as well, another round of tears leaving her already dried-up eyes. She clings onto her brother for comfort, arms under his own as she clings onto his shoulders, nails digging into his skin.
      Neteyam does not intend to let go, as he tightens his embrace around her shoulders, and his heart grows twice its size when he feels her tail wrap itself around his waist, like his did around hers, and he knows she does not intend to let go either. The pull between them grows, the invisibility string pulsing stronger as their chests are pressed against one another, and the weight on both their shoulders begins to diminish.
     âDoes it⊠Does it hurt you⊠as much as it hurts me?â Y/N mumbles against his neck and between cries.
     Neteyam only nods, the tip of his ears brushing against her cheek as he does.
     âI thought⊠I thought I lost youâŠâ Neteyam breathes out, pulling away to look at his twin. âI-I⊠I couldnât feel you there anymore.â He adds, pointing at her chest. âI couldnât. It was all gone.â
     Y/Nâs lips quiver, and she grabs Neteyamâs shoulders to embrace him once more. She shakes her head as she cries louder into his neck.
     âIâm sorry. Iâm so sorry, tsmukan. So sorry.â
     Y/N mumbles into his chest, and Neteyam knows it isnât her fault. He doesnât understand why she is apologizing for something that was out of her control, but when he glances up to his father over her shoulder, he sees Jake simply shaking his head, and Neteyam knows not to question it. Instead, his arms tighten once more around her waist and he buries his face in the crook of her neck. He doesnât want to pull away, the anguish he feels in his chest foreign and unbearable, and he knows that Y/N needs this. He still feels the pain on his right side, but he doesnât care anymore, now that he knows his twin sister will be just fine. Or so he thinks.
     Neytiri is the one to embrace her daughter in a crushing hug when Neteyam pulls away from his twin, and Y/N whines softly, her words muffled against her motherâs chest.
     âSaânu!â Y/N whines. âYouâre squishing me!â
     âThank you, Great Mother! Thank you!â
     Neytiri keeps on saying, as she cradles the back of her firstborn daughterâs head, pressing her cheek against the crown of her head. She doesnât let go, not even when Y/N tries to push her mother away until she eventually gives up and wraps her arms around her motherâs midriff instead.
     âIâm okay, mom.â Y/N says against her motherâs chest. âYou can let go now.â
     âAre you, maâite? Alright?â Neytiri question, slightly pulling away from Y/N.
     Y/N looks up and nods, smiling softly. Neytiri sighs and glances at Jake, who nods too, which eases Neytiriâs mind a little. She gives her daughter a once-over look, eyes lingering a little on her injuries, before she reluctantly lets go of her. Y/N mumbles a small thank you, and she looks past her motherâs shoulder to the two siblings who have yet to greet her.
     Kiriâs face breaks into a grin when Y/N smiles and opens her arms to her middle siblings. Loâak stays back when Kiri runs in her older sisterâs arms, and Y/N can see the way his eyebrows, a distinctive trait he inherited from their father, pull together in a frown. His lips are pressed shut together in a thin line, and Y/N can see the gears turning in his mind. Her face falls into one of concern, but she brushes it off as something trivial, and she wraps her arms around Kiriâs waist when her sister gives her cheek a kiss.
     âI am glad to see you are okay, tsmuke.â Kiri says, holding her sister at armsâ length.
     âI am happy to be home, Kiri.â Y/N smiles, ruffling her sisterâs hair.
     When Kiri lets her go, Y/N casts her eyes onto her little brother, and she frowns when she notices that Loâak tries his best to avoid her stare. Her smile falls when he turns his head away, and she tilts her head as the sadness fills her eyes.
     âLoâak?â
     She calls out to him, her voice small and worried, but he doesnât look at her. Instead, he turns around and begins to walk back towards the family tent. Y/Nâs lips quiver, heart pinching in sadness as she watches her brother walk away, and her body flinches slightly when Neteyam puts a hand on her shoulder and wraps his tail around her waist.
     âHeâll come around tsmuke.â Neteyam smiles softly. âGive him time.â
     Y/N nods her head, although she does not quite understand why Loâak would react that way upon her arrival. The gears begin to turn in her mind, and she tries her best to keep the tears at her waterline from rolling down her cheeks, and she gives her mother a smile when Neytiri nods towards the family tent.
â
     There is a shift in the air when Y/N wakes up abruptly, sweat dripping down her forehead and tears brimming her eyes. It feels colder, sending shivers down her spine and making her wrap her arms around herself for comfort and warmth. It is quiet in the family tent, the only sounds heard being the peaceful breathing of her parents and siblings. It contrasts with her heavier and shorter breathing pace, chest heaving up and down irregularly as she tries to catch her breath. Her eyes land on Neteyam for a quick second, and Y/N chokes back a sob, lips quivering. She has to control her emotions if she does not want to wake up her twin brother.
     She closes her eyes, inhaling deeply through her nostrils, the air filling her lungs before she exhales through her parted lips. She repeats this breathing pattern several times before she gets her emotions in check, and she focuses on a happier memory, buried deep in her mind. She glances back at Neteyam, only to see him still fast asleep, and a small smile appears on her lips as she watches his peaceful state. She refrains from allowing her forefinger to trace the tanhì that litter his face like stars scattered across the eclipse sky, and instead, she untangles her tail from around his to stand up and walk out the family tent.
      Y/N allows herself to breathe the outside air, closing her eyes for a quick second, before she goes to sit on a wooden log near the tent. She keeps her arms wrapped around herself, and she lets her eyes linger on the different cuts and bruises that cover her blue skin. A single tear rolls down her cheek, blurry memories flooding her mind like a tidal wave. She remembers their hands on her, and their human needles being forced into her thick Naâvi skin. She remembers the electrodes they patched onto her forehead and on her chest, to monitor her brain activity and her heartbeat, while she laid on the metallic chair, gasping and pleading to be able to breathe Pandoran air. She remembers how they used their tiny scalpels to cut through her skin, leaving her to bleed out when they were done with her. And there is this distant memory, hidden in the deepest parts of her mind, that fights to show itself to the forefront of her mind in blurry images. A blurry figure with two large patches of white in their hands. Blurry movements, and Y/N thinks that they cleaned her cuts, before they moved her to the place the Sky People kept her prisoner.
     She chokes back on a sob as the memories resurface, and she nearly jumps out of her skin when a hand comes to rest on her shoulder. She freezes, slowly turning her head to come face to face with her mother. Y/Nâs lips curve into the tiniest of smiles as she leans into her motherâs embrace, resting her head on the womanâs shoulder.
     âWhat is wrong, maâite?â
     Neytiri asks after a while of comfortable silence, and she cups her daughterâs face between her four-fingered hands, thumbs gently brushing her cheeks.
     âNothing mama.â Y/N whispers. âIâm fine.â
     Y/N lies and Neytiri knows she is lying. But she doesnât push. She doesnât force the truth out of her daughterâs mouth, knowing that, in time, Y/N will come to her and pour her sorrows.
     âJust a nightmare saânu.â Y/N adds, leaning her head back on her motherâs shoulder. âI cannot go back to sleep.â
     âMaâitetsyìpâŠâ
     Neytiri whispers, kissing the crown of her daughterâs head. She lets her hands fall from Y/Nâs face, and instead she wraps her arms around her daughterâs shoulders, tail swishing anxiously behind both of them. When Neytiri notices the anxiety in her daughter from the movements of her tail, she sighs and closes her eyes, resting her cheek on top of Y/Nâs head.
     Y/N does not have to say anything because, at that moment, Neytiri knows. She knows what goes on through her daughterâs mind and her heart aches just with the thought of it. But when Y/N begins to relax in her embrace, Neytiri smiles softly, leaving a kiss on her temple.
     âIn time maâeveng,â Neytiri whispers, âyou will heal.â
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