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blueyellow8green · 2 months

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Avatar One-Shot: Child Support

As the clone of the late Miles Stephen Quaritch, the recombinant Miles is the legal beneficiary of all of his genetic donor’s property, wealth, and rank. Unfortunately, he’s also the legal beneficiary of his debts. This includes the fifteen years worth of child support for Miles Socorro.

The day started out just like any other day during Spider’s captivity in Bridgehead. Quaritch collected him from his “room” (AKA, the cell Quaritch had added a few amenities to after Spider started cooperating with him) and brought him to the cafeteria so he could eat before they set off to continue the recoms’ survival training in the jungle. The other recoms had already eaten and were off doing whatever it was they did when Quaritch wasn’t bossing them around, leaving Spider to shoulder all of his early morning bossiness alone.

“Get your hair out of your face, boy. And don’t pick at your food, just eat it.” Quaritch ordered impatiently while Spider prodded the contents of his plate. The brown lumps before him were allegedly some kind of sausage, but Spider didn’t trust the RDA’s menu anymore than he trusted their propaganda about wanting to “build a peaceful future with the Na’vi.” A group of scientists walked past with their breakfast trays in hand, and Spider eyed the large cinnamon rolls on their plates in envy. Their sweet fragrance taunted him as the scientists sat down nearby.

“This stuff is nasty. Can I have one of those things instead?” He pointed to the frosted pastries hopefully.

Unsurprisingly, Quaritch dashed his hopes by nudging the plate of “sausage” under his nose. “The last thing you need for breakfast is a bunch of sugary shit. You need protein.”

“Uhg.” Spider slouched miserably onto the cafeteria table and rested his head on his arm.

“And sit up straight for Christ’s sake, you look like you’re falling asleep.”

“I am falling asleep,” Spider mumbled into his elbow.

Quaritch opened his mouth —to boss him around some more no doubt— but before he could say anything, a loud BANG! interrupted him. Both of them jumped in their seats and whipped around to see the source of the noise; somebody had slammed open the cafeteria door so hard it’d nearly been knocked clean off its hinges, and that somebody was marching straight towards them. All the RDA personnel in the cafeteria stared at him in varying shades of annoyance and curiosity.

“Miles Quaritch!” Hollered the man who’d caused all the ruckus.

Spider’s eyes went wide. He knew that voice. “No fucking way,” he hissed under his breath. Never in a million years had he thought he’d ever see him again.

“I got a bone to pick with you!” The man, who was wearing the obnoxiously bright orange uniform of the mining crew, stormed right up to Quaritch like he owned the place. Everyone around them stared. Spider leaned around Quaritch to try and catch his eye, but the man wouldn’t so much as glance at him. All of his attention was on Quaritch. It was a comical sight. Spider would’ve laughed if he wasn’t too busy wishing he would look at him. Even though Quaritch perched awkwardly on the cafeteria bench that was much too small for him, the man still had to crane his neck to meet his gaze.

Quaritch looked down at the angry little man with an odd expression on his face, like he couldn’t decide if he was more irritated or amused by this interruption. Luckily for the man, Quaritch’s amusement won out in the end and he gave him a smile that was only half sarcastic. “If you got a bone to pick with Miles Quaritch, you’ve come to the right place. Now who might you be?”

“My name is Nash McCosker.” He huffed and crossed his arms, watching Quaritch’s face for a reaction. Clearly, his name was supposed to mean something to Quaritch, because he looked even more irritated when he didn’t react at all.

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. McCosker.” Quaritch replied dryly. “I reckon I don’t need to introduce myself since you already seem to know who I am, so I’ll introduce you to my, ah… translator. This here is Spider. Say hello, Spider.”

He nudged him with his knee, but Spider didn’t say hello; he didn’t think he could even if he’d wanted to. His mouth was as dry as the land around Bridgehead, and he felt like he was going to throw up. Spider stared silently at McCosker, waiting for him to say something or look at him or do anything to acknowledge his presence. Even with Quaritch making an effort to introduce him, McCosker still wouldn’t even glance at him. He might as well have been a complete stranger. The silent rejection stung like a slap and Spider’s breath caught in his throat. His legs bounced in place, itching to move. Part of him wanted to march right up to McCosker and smack that stupid mustache off his face while another part of him wanted to run so far away he’d never have to hear his voice again. But Spider didn’t dare do any of that with Quaritch breathing down his neck, so instead he settled for clenching his fists and glaring at the floor. If McCosker wanted to act like he didn’t care about him, then fine! Spider didn’t care about him either! Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Quaritch’s ears flatten back at his reaction, but if it bothered him he didn’t say anything.

The silence stretched from awkward to downright uncomfortable, and Quaritch seemed to accept he wasn’t going to get a proper salutation out of Spider anytime soon. “Eh, sorry about that. This one’s not much for manners.”

McCosker scoffed. “Heh. Tell me about it.”

All of Spider’s resolve to pretend he didn’t care evaporated in an instant. “You—!“ he hissed as he lunged to his feet, and McCosker recoiled with his fists raised. Fortunately for McCosker, Spider didn’t get any further than that because Quaritch put a hand on his chest and pushed him right back into his seat. “Whoa! Easy, there!”

The reaction came so quickly that Quaritch only could’ve been expecting it. He kept one hand securely on Spider and with the other he gestured for McCosker to relax. Spider shoved his oversized hand off him with a snarl, but didn’t bother with trying to stand again. He crossed his arms and glared at the next table over. The group of scientists seated at the table suddenly became very interested in their plates.

“Alright, would either of you like to explain to me what the hell is going on here?” Quaritch asked as he looked between the two of them. The novelty of the situation was wearing off quick and Quaritch was going from amusement to irritation even quicker.

“Look, sir, I’m not looking for trouble.” McCosker must’ve sensed the danger in Quaritch’s mood, because he switched to a much politer tone. “I’m just looking to get what I’m owed.”

“Uh-huh. And what exactly is that?”

Before McCosker could answer, the sound of rapid footsteps made all three of them look up. A man in a suit rushed towards them from the same door as McCosker. He clutched a haphazard binder full of papers to his chest that sent the occasional loose sheet fluttering into the air behind him.

“Hello, everyone, sorry I’m late.” He said breathlessly as he arrived at their table. “I tried to keep up with you, Mr. McCosker, but you took off so fast I got left in the dust, heh, heh.” He chuckled awkwardly before clearing his throat. “Good morning, Colonel. My name is Mr. Ford. I’m from the HR department and I will be mediating this agreement between you and Mr. McCosker today.” Mr. Ford offered his hand for Quaritch to shake, but Quaritch ignored it and narrowed his eyes.

“An agreement for what exactly?”

Mr. Ford lowered his arm and jammed it into his pocket. “Well, you see, sir, as the clone of the late Miles Stephen Quaritch, you are the legal beneficiary of all of your genetic donor’s property, wealth, and rank. You know this, correct?”

“Yes, this was all explained to me when I decanted. And?” Quaritch prompted impatiently.

“Of course you already know!” Mr. Ford fidgeted nervously. “But are you aware that you also inherit any and all debts belonging to Miles Quaritch?”

At that, Quaritch’s ears twitched back against his skull. “No… I don’t think that was ever mentioned. But I didn’t— I mean— him, the original Quaritch— he didn’t have any debt when he died, so why does this matter?”

“Well, not quite, sir. You see, your, eh, predecessor, left behind a child when he died.” He glanced at Spider and gave him an awkward smile that went unreturned. “And as I’m sure you’re well aware, children take a lot of time and effort to care for— a lot of labor, if you will, and I think we can all agree that so much hard labor ought to be fairly compensated for, so, well, you see, um—“

The more Mr. Ford stammered, the stonier Quaritch’s expression grew. “Get to the point already.”

“Mr. McCosker wants to be financially compensated for raising Miles Socorro!” He blurted out in a rush.

Spider scoffed loudly and Quaritch’s face pinched in confusion. “I’m sorry— what?” He turned to McCosker with narrowed eyes. “Who did you say you were again?”

“I’m Nash McCosker. I was one of the people who chose to stay on Pandora after Sully went native on us. Since your kid was too young to go back, somebody had to look after him, and that somebody was me! I raised him for fourteen years! Fourteen years! And now I want what I’m owed!”

Quaritch shook his head in disbelief. “I ain’t calling you a liar, McCosker, but this whole time I’ve been under the impression that this kid was raised by the natives.”

“He wasn’t. Me and my wife bent over backwards to give him the most normal childhood possible.”

“Are you seriously telling me that this boy was raised by two humans?”

“Yes!” McCosker snapped. “You think I’m lying, huh? What reason do you have not to believe me?”

“What reason do I—?” Quaritch repeated incredulously before pointing at Spider. “Fucking look at him!”

For the first time in over a year, McCosker looked his foster son in the eyes— the boy he’d raised and left behind for a chance to rejoin the RDA. Spider bared his teeth and hissed. He looked close to lunging at him again.

“Does this boy look like he was raised by humans to you? Heh?” Asked Quaritch.

“I know how he looks, but that doesn’t change the fact that you owe me fourteen years of child support!” McCosker yelled so forcefully that he sent up a spray of spittle.

“Please calm down, gentlemen!” Mr. Ford cried.

“Is he serious?” Quaritch asked him with the barest hint of a snarl in his voice.

“Yes, I’m afraid so, sir.” Said Mr. Ford. He clutched his overstuffed binder to his chest as if it would protect him if Quaritch decided to attack. “If he’s telling the truth, then, legally speaking, you do owe him child support. The RDA is willing to enforce this if we can confirm his claim.”

Quaritch hissed through his teeth and pinched the bridge of his nose. “This is unbelievable. Are you seriously trying to make me pay for something that happened while I wasn’t alive? And what do you mean, confirm his claim?”

“Well, that’s the other thing. We can only enforce child support if it’s proven that Nash McCosker did indeed raise Miles Socorro for fourteen years, and we obviously don’t have any legal record of what’s happened on Pandora since the RDA left. So I need some kind of confirmation that McCosker is telling the truth before we can proceed.”

McCosker frowned at Mr. Ford, looking as equally confused as Quaritch. Apparently, this was the first time he’d heard this too.

“What kind of confirmation do you need?” Quaritch asked.

“Well…” in answer, Mr. Ford simply nodded his head behind Quaritch. In tandem, both Quaritch and McCosker slowly turned to look at where Spider sat sulking in the cafeteria chair. He slouched back with his arms crossed over his chest and a scowl on his face. Spider looked up at Quaritch, whose ears were pinned back in irritation, then over to McCosker, whose face flushed pink from anger. The whole cafeteria went silent, everyone waiting to see what Spider would say.

After a long pause, Spider straightened up in his seat and stared directly at McCosker. “I’ve never met that man before in my life.”

“What?” The word exploded out of McCosker so loudly that his voice cracked. His face went straight from pink to firetruck red in a matter of moments, and a prominent vein throbbed at his temple.

“He’s lying!” He roared, pointing an accusatory finger at Spider, who shrugged innocently. “You don’t actually believe him, right? I had him under my roof for fourteen years! You can’t throw the money away just because he’s lying about it!”

Mr. Ford backed away from McCosker with an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, Mr. McCosker. If you cannot prove you raised him, then the HR department cannot enforce your claim.”

Quaritch smirked. He looked an awful lot like a cat that was proud of itself for making a mess. “You heard the man, McCosker. It was a real pleasure meeting you, but me and the kid gotta get going now.”

“No!” Protested McCosker as Quaritch and Spider got up to leave. When Quaritch’s back was turned, Spider sneakily flipped him off before scurrying after Quaritch like he hadn’t done anything. That was the last straw for McCosker.

“You ungrateful little shit!” He howled, spittle flying everywhere. Before anyone knew what was happening, McCosker lunged at Spider, his hands going straight for his throat. They collided, and Spider stumbled back into Quaritch’s legs. Quaritch whipped around with a startled hiss. He moved to pull McCosker off of Spider, but before he could get a hand on him, Spider had already taken care of it. Snarling just as fiercely as any Na’vi, Spider shoved McCosker off him. He staggered back, almost losing his footing from the force of the shove. Before he could recover, Spider punched him in the jaw so hard his head snapped back like a bobblehead. Then he hit him with a kick that knocked him clean off his feet. McCosker collapsed on his back. Blood flowed from his slack-jawed mouth. He hacked and wheezed, then spat something small into his hands: a tooth.

For a moment, McCosker stared in shock at his tooth, before glaring up at Spider. “I hope they execute you, you damn race traitor!”

“Fuck you!” Spider screamed back as he lunged toward the fallen man.

Quaritch was still frozen where he’d moved to protect Spider from McCosker. Now he realized he actually needed to protect McCosker from Spider.

“Stop!” He ordered, but it fell on deaf ears. Spider managed to get in another vicious punch before Quaritch grabbed him around the middle and hauled him off the ground. “Spider, that’s enough!”

A few bystanders who also wore orange mining crew uniforms rushed over to McCosker to help him to his feet. They ended up holding him back instead when he tried to lunge for Spider again. He yelled at him, blood and saliva dripping down his chin and mingling in his facial hair. “You’re gonna get exactly what’s coming to you, you fucking bastard! Nobody wanted you around and nobody will miss you when you’re gone!”

“Fuck you!” Spider screamed again. He thrashed so hard in Quaritch’s grip that it was a struggle to hold onto him without hurting him.

Quaritch hauled him away from McCosker and back towards the entrance to the cafeteria. He roughly set him on the ground and shook him. “Get a hold of yourself, boy! There are cameras in here.”

Spider grit his teeth, his breath coming out in short, angry hisses, but he finally stopped fighting against him. His eyes went to the corners of the ceiling and sure enough, there were multiple cameras trained on the unfolding drama. The idea of Ardmore watching him jump an RDA employee after Quaritch had promised he would behave himself sent a chill down his spine.

“C’mon, let’s take a walk.” Quaritch never took his hand off Spider’s shoulder as he marched him out of the cafeteria. The mining crew hauled McCosker in the opposite direction, screaming curses and death wishes at Spider the whole while. Mr. Ford had made himself scarce a long time ago. Every set of eyes in the cafeteria was trained on Spider. Now that the tunnel vision from his anger had faded, he was painfully aware of all the stares and whispers. He looked down at his feet, letting his thick dreads hide his face from view.

“Alright!” Quaritch barked at the crowd of onlookers. “Show’s over, folks, there’s nothing else to see here.”

All it took was one look from Quaritch to send everyone’s eyes back to their plates. Quaritch marched Spider through Bridgehead’s cold, twisting hallways before pulling him into a small room used for storage. It was so small that Quaritch had to crouch to fit inside, but at least they had some privacy. Spider paced as much as he could in the small space, his hands clenched in trembling fists. Quaritch sat back in a corner of the storage room and watched him pace with an unreadable expression on his face.

CLANG! Without warning, Spider punched a nearby crate as hard as he could, leaving a small dent behind in the cheap metal. His knuckles came away bloody, but he was too angry to care.

“I hate that son of a bitch!” He yelled, and he moved to punch another crate, but Quaritch grabbed his arm.

“Hey, don’t go messing all these boxes up.”

“Get the fuck off me, asshole!” Spider hissed. As soon as he said it, he immediately regretted it.

Quaritch’s eyes narrowed. “I’m gonna let that slide ‘cause I know you’re upset, but you better not use that tone of voice with me, young man. Now, try again.”

Spider closed his eyes and forced himself to take a few deep breaths. Then in a much calmer voice, he said, “please let go of me.”

“That’s better.” Quaritch made a big show of releasing his arm and leaning back to give him space.

Spider bounced on the balls of his feet and tried to look anywhere but Quaritch. Anger buzzed under his skin like a nest of hornets, filling him with a restless energy. His fists clenched and unclenched at his sides. He wanted to hit something. Preferably McCosker’s face.

As if reading his mind, Quaritch raised his hands and extended them so his palms were facing Spider at shoulder height. “Here. You wanna hit something, put ‘er there.”

“What? But why would I—?” Spider shuffled a few steps back.

“Aw, relax, tiger, it’s not like you’re gonna hurt me. C’mon, gimme that same southpaw you gave the prick in the cafeteria.”

After another moment of hesitation, Spider half-heartedly hit Quaritch’s palm.

Quaritch scoffed. “You call that a punch?”

He hit him again, harder this time.

“C’mon, you can do better than that!”

This time, Spider put his whole body behind the punch, just like when he’d knocked McCosker’s tooth out.

“Atta boy! Now gimme a right hook!”

Spider punched Quaritch’s fists again and again, the dull thud of flesh against flesh driving away the angry buzz under his skin. Once he didn’t feel like he wanted to hunt McCosker down and knock the rest of his teeth out anymore, Quaritch stopped. The absence of anger left him feeling oddly hollow.

Quaritch whistled appreciatively, massaging his sore palms. “You could’ve been a boxer in another life, kid! Woulda been the next Muhammed Ali!”

Spider wasn’t sure what that meant, but he could tell from his tone that it was a compliment. He looked down and scuffed his heel against the floor, unsure of how to react to the praise.

“So, you wanna tell me what that was all about?” Quaritch probed.

“I… lied. I actually do know that man.” He kept his eyes trained on the ground as he spoke.

Quaritch snorted. “I figured that much, kid. Who is he?”

“He was my foster father— er, he was supposed to be. He was alright when I was little far as I can remember, but after his kids were born, well… I dunno how to explain it. I still lived with him and his family— slept in their home, ate their food and all that— I was never neglected or anything— but it was like I was a guest or something. I was just… there.” Spider shrugged casually, like it didn’t bother him, but he still couldn’t bring himself to look at Quaritch. He wanted to stop talking. Any information he let slip now could be used to manipulate him later. He knew he should stop talking, but for some reason he didn’t. These were thoughts he’d never voiced aloud to anyone, not even Kiri, and for some reason they came spilling out of him in front of Quaritch of all people. “It’s why I spent so much time in the forest instead of with the other humans. Some of the Na’vi didn’t want me around, but my friends did.”

Spider fiddled with the songcord on his belt, rubbing his fingers over three beautiful blue beads; they represented the day he’d befriended Neteyam, Kiri, and Lo’ak. “They actually cared about me, you know?”

Okay, skxwang, you’ve said enough, stop talking now. His brain screamed, but it was drowned out by his traitorous mouth. He continued spilling his guts to an insane Na’vi-killer. “And then when the RDA came back, Ardmore offered the humans a deal to rejoin them, and McCosker wanted to take it. I wanted to stay with the Na’vi, but the grown-ups forced me to go with him. And the crazy thing was, I was actually gonna suck it up and go with him until my friends came back. But then McCosker captured them. He was gonna turn them in to Ardmore in exchange for a better deal. That fucking bastard. Mr. Sully trusted him and let him go back to the RDA with no hard feelings and he betrayed him—” if Quaritch scoffed at that, Spider pretended not to hear it.

“So I helped ‘em all escape. We busted outta there and found Mr. Sully. He wanted me to turn myself in to the RDA ‘cause he thought I would slow them down—” Quaritch made another noise in the back of his throat that almost sounded angry, but Spider ignored it too, “but I proved him wrong! I ran twice as hard as everyone else and I kept up. We all got away safe and sound.” The memory made Spider’s chest puff out in pride, and he almost felt good enough to look Quaritch in the eyes again, but then he remembered everything that came after that and he deflated.

“Anyway, after that, I thought I was never gonna see McCosker again, until… you know, until today.” Spider scuffed his feet against the ground once more. To his horror, his eyes started to prickle with unshed tears. He stubbornly blinked them away before they could fall. “It’s stupid. When I saw him, for a second I thought he was gonna— gonna— I don’t even know. Do something other than ask for money, I guess. But that was stupid. He only talked to me when he had to before he left so I don’t know why I thought he would be different now and—”

THUD! The sudden sound of flesh against metal startled Spider so much he finally looked up at Quaritch. He’d punched one of the metal crates, leaving a larger, deeper indent just above where Spider’s smaller hand had punched it earlier. When Quaritch pulled his hand away, his knuckles were bloody, just like Spider’s. Now they matched. If Quaritch cared or even noticed the blood, he gave no sign of it. He stared blankly at Spider, as if looking through him rather than at him, his face twisted into a rictus of fury. There was so much pure vitriol in his eyes that Spider physically recoiled. His back hit the wall and he slid as far away from him as he could in the tiny storage space. Oh great. Now he’d done it. All his rambling had pissed him off and now he looked angry enough to murder.

“Whoa, I’m sorry!” Spider blurted out quickly.

Quaritch blinked and his eyes snapped back into focus, now looking at Spider instead of through him. “Why?”

“For pissing you off, I didn’t mean to start talking so much, I just—”

“Oh,” Quaritch’s eyebrows pulled up out of their angry scowl and he stared at the dent he’d left in the crate like he didn’t remember making it. He took in the way Spider recoiled away from him and his demeanor instantly changed, all aggression leaving his body. “Wait, kid, no, I ain’t mad at you. Relax. I was mad about something else.”

Spider eyed his bloodied knuckles warily. “You sure?”

“I promise.” He put his palms up to show he meant no harm. “You did nothing wrong today. It sounds like that guy had it coming. I don’t want you worrying about him anymore, you hear me? If he comes round again I’ll put him in his place.”

“Okay… thank you.”

Quaritch tilted his head to the side. “What are you thanking me for?”

Once again, Spider found himself unable to look Quaritch in the eye. What was he thanking him for? The man had kidnapped him for crying out loud, the last thing he owed him was an apology! In the end, all he did was shrug.

“You don’t know? Well, that’s funny, cause I’m the one who oughta be thanking you.” Quaritch gently reached out and brushed a knuckle under Spider’s chin, hard enough to nudge his head up, but still light enough so Spider could pull away if he wanted to. When Spider reluctantly made eye contact with him, Quaritch smiled— it was a real one this time, not like the mean, sarcastic ones he’d given McCosker.

“You just saved me from giving a shit-ton of money to that asshole.” He said with a slight laugh in his voice.

Even though Spider still felt pretty shitty, he smiled back and shoved Quaritch’s hand away from his chin. “I didn’t do it for you, skxwang, I did it to spite him!”

“Well, I’m thanking you for it anyway!” Chuckled Quaritch. “And you know what, I think I owe you a little something now.”

Spider watched on curiously as Quaritch reached into his side pockets and withdrew two little bundles wrapped up in napkins. When he unfolded the napkins and offered them to Spider, he was delighted to see two cinnamon rolls. He must’ve snagged them as they were leaving the cafeteria when Spider wasn’t looking. The gesture made Spider’s eyes widen. Usually Kiri was the only person who took note of Spider’s favorite foods and went out of her way to give him some when he was feeling down. Even McCosker had never done anything like that, and he’d raised Spider for fourteen years.

“You gonna just stare at it or are you gonna eat it?” Quaritch asked. He telegraphed his movements as if he were going to take the rolls back, but before he could, Spider snatched them out of his hand.

“Mmm!” Spider wasted no time sinking his teeth into a cinnamon roll. Sweet sugary icing and spice exploded on his tongue; it tasted even better than it smelled. He would always prefer natural Pandoran food to Earth food, but if he had to pick a favorite from Earth, it was definitely this.

“Don’t inhale it all at once now!” Quaritch laughed as he watched him scarf it down. “We’re not in a rush. Just make sure you eat it all before we go meet up with the others. If Wainfleet sees it he’s gonna want on too.”

“Mm-hm!” Spider nodded through a mouthful of pastry.

For some reason, eating the cinnamon roll made him feel instantly better, which was odd. Spider had never been a comfort-food kind of person. Maybe the human chefs put some strange magic in their cinnamon rolls. Or —as he looked up at Quaritch, another idea occurred to him— maybe it had less to do with the roll, and more with the fact that Quaritch had thought to give it to him.

#chefs kiss #you ate every single time you post

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blueyellow8green · 2 months

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"grown ups usually call me miles"

🕸️🕷️ Weaving the Web 🕷️🕸️

Chapter 9: Filling In the Blanks

Quaritch waited outside the interview room while Nash McCosker gave his statement regarding the incident in the cafeteria. Miles had not only smashed his face against a metal table which left the man with a broken nose, but he’d landed three more solid punches before the colonel tore the boy off. According to the medical report, each additional blow left him with a facial fracture to the right cheekbone, orbital fracture, and a dislocated jaw. To put it bluntly: McCosker was a fucking mess to look at because Miles seriously fucked him up.

Quaritch couldn’t even be proud of how well Spider could fight. He could have killed the man. Just what the hell was Miles thinking?! With the help of some heavy painkillers and a bit of force, McCosker’s jaw was reset but he was a swollen, discolored, bloody mess.

”Thank you for your time, Mr. McCosker.”

The security officer ending her interview and exiting the room brought the colonel back to the present. She nodded in acknowledgment that Quaritch could now go in and have his own interview with McCosker. Taking a long breath from his mask, the recom ducked under the low entryway and mentally reminded himself to let the man tell his side of the story first. It’s not that Quaritch didn’t trust Spider, or Miles for that matter, but he would get more information if he was sympathetic to the victim.

”Mr. McCosker.” Quaritch said, appraising the man sitting at the table with butterfly stitches holding a gash together under his right black eye and heavy duty sutures holding his upper lip together. He was holding an ice pack over most of his face but managed to make eye contact with Quaritch and nod.

”Yea, that’s me.” McCosker said gruffly. Quaritch couldn’t blame him. If he’d taken hits like that, he’d take a shot of morphine with a shot of whiskey and call it a night. McCosker stared at Quaritch, narrowing his good eye slightly. He looked like he was trying to remember why the recombinant looked familiar and finally asked, “Do I know you, sir? I didn’t realize there were new avatar pilots…”

Avatars? No. Recombinants? Well, that was a need to know and if Nash McCosker had a history of switching sides, the last thing he’d have is the clearance for knowledge of the Sec-Ops first recom unit.

”There aren’t.” Quaritch said, only eliciting more confusion from the man, but quickly changed the subject, “How you holdin’ up? That was a hell of a beating you took.”

Despite the discoloration of his bruised face, McCosker’s face turned red. Quaritch couldn’t tell if it was from embarrassment or anger. Based on the clenched fists and furrowing brow, the colonel went with the latter.

”For what it’s worth, you ain’t the first person that kid’s put in the hospital.” Quaritch remarked. Spider had gotten in some brawls when he was first captured but it was more justified. It would have been strange if he didn’t try to fight back given his upbringing. Maybe this Nash guy could fill in some of the blanks…

”That fucking kid…” McCosker growled, “I didn’t even know he was here.”

”I doubt prisoner records show up in your work.” Quaritch said smoothly, crossing his arms as he continued the small talk. It was no surprise that the man knew Spider. All the humans that stayed behind all lived at Hell’s Gate so it was likely they’d crossed paths at some point. But from that remark, Quaritch figured the man knew more about Spider than just that he was a baby left behind.

”We’d heard about someone getting captured…” McCosker said, “…we figured it was a Na’vi.”

”Would that have been better? Given how much help you offered the RDA a year ago. You’re practically a damn hero for humanity.” Quaritch praised, putting up a good act. Nash McCosker’s loyalty was low on his list to trust, given he’d switched sides twice already.

”I’m no hero. I was looking out for my family…and Jake was…” he started then let his sentence trail off. He readjusted the ice pack with a slight hiss of pain.

”You were loyal to Jake Sully.” Quaritch said, his ears pinning back.

”Yea…back when Jake was loyal to us too.” McCosker said with a growl.

”Guess that’s fair…Sully switched sides and doomed a lot of good people. He’s got a decent following. Includin’ the kid who tried to turn your face to ground meat. That must be why…” Quaritch said, baiting the man to keep venting in whatever way would get more information about Spider out of this.

”That little bastard is the reason Jake and his family got away!” McCosker snarled, immediately regretting it when shouting required him to open his mouth more to do it.

Quaritch’s tail flipped angrily and he set his jaw. He’d heard plenty of people make comments like that about Spider since being captured but it hit him differently to hear how visceral it was coming from Nash McCosker. The soldiers who’d guarded and escorted him around made comments about him being ‘wild’, ‘out of control’, or ‘savage’. But those remarks came after a scuffle. McCosker’s rage was old.

”The RDA lost the Sullys due to a, what…? Fifteen-year-old at the time?” Quaritch said, remaining calm but wanting to smack the guy himself. He knew what it looked like to have a deep rooted anger in one’s eyes; he’d seen it every time he saw his reflection after Sully’s betrayal.

”We’d managed to catch a few of Jake’s kids. He would’ve surrendered and none of the shit that followed would’ve happened. But Miles busted them out and the Sullys got away because of it.” McCosker said, remembering the night like it was yesterday.

Quaritch frowned but noted that McCosker had called him ‘Miles’. Of course Spider had done something like that…the colonel had seen how he acted when they were all caught in the forest and how defensive he was of the Sully kids. Especially the older girl.

“Not surprised he turned out so wild.” McCosker grumbled, “Sure as fuck never listened growing up.”

There it was. Confirmation that McCosker knew Spider on a more personal level. It was time to pull that stitch loose.

”You used to look after the boy?” Quaritch asked, the keycard and tooth burning a hole in his pocket.

”Yea…” he answered nonchalantly then continued, “We took him in. That kid was a terror. Older he got, the less he listened. My wife and I tried to raise him to be a good kid but he’d just run off whenever we tried to enforce any rules.”

”And you’d let him?” Quaritch asked, slipping his hand in his pocket and catching the contents in his palm.

”It got tougher when we had kids of our own,” the man admitted, “Someone else should’ve taken him. It was a mistake. Miles was a mistake to begin with…”

Quaritch couldn’t stop the growl that escaped his teeth, not going unnoticed by McCosker. The man suddenly got a nervous look on his face recognizing what an angry Na’vi, or recom in this case, looks like. Quaritch slipped his hand out of his pocket and put his hand flat on the table, slowly sliding the keycard and broken tooth over to him.

“His parents made a mistake, but SPIDER is not the mistake.” Quaritch growled. “Let me take a good guess on how it all went down. You took in the little tike because you didn’t have any kids yet. Just being a Good Samaritan, right? You sure seem like a family man but that boy was never part of your family, was he?”

”Who the hell do you think you are?” McCosker asked, getting to his feet but still being towered over by the colonel. “We put a roof over his head, food in his stomach, did everything we could to raise him as one of our own.”

“Did you?” Quaritch said, feeling his anger rising, “Your sons are model citizens, aren’t they? Good students, helpful in the community. Real poster child quality for the recolonization efforts. AND they were born on Pandora. Just like Spider. Except Spider isn’t like them…it’s almost like you stopped caring as soon as you had your own.”

McCosker froze when Quaritch mentioned his sons. The room turned silent as the colonel took back his hand and the battered man could see his ID keycard and tooth on the table.

”Spider didn’t attack you because you betrayed Sully…he already got you back for that by freeing those halfbreeds.” Quaritch said, eerily calm, “He bashed your face in for somethin’ else so what’d you do to him? He said you threw out his teeth. Did you knock them out when he gave you a hard time?”

”His goddamn baby teeth, I never hit him in the face!” McCosker huffed out but regretted the latter half of his statement at the narrowed gold ears and wrinkles on recom’s nose from the start of a growl.

”But you did hit him…” Quaritch said, his quiet tone not matching his facial cues.

McCosker was flustered but still tried to defend himself and said, ”We didn’t abuse him! Put him in his room, maybe spanked him once or twice. Nothing we did worked and it’s clear he’s still a lost cause as he was back then. Too wild and dangerous! It’d be best for everyone if you just had him put down-…”

The sound of the metal table crashing into the wall drew the attention of security minding their own business out in the hall. When they peeked into the interview room, they were too shocked by the sight of Quaritch having pulled the table right off its bolts to get at McCosker. The man was terrified, back against the wall with the recom’s massive hand across his collarbone.

Quaritch had a fraction of a second of sense to push this sad excuse for a human being against the wall by his chest and not his throat. He was growling low in his throat and wanted to finish the job his boy had started in the cafeteria. There was much more to Miles attacking McCosker the way he had than an ass whooping or being sent to his room.

”Colonel Quaritch?” one of the guards had the courage to say, “What’s the issue, sir?”

Despite the bruises, all the color in McCosker’s face drained. The ten-foot-tall blue version of the old head of Sec-Ops suddenly looked VERY familiar. Quaritch slowly took his hand back and stood back up straight.

”Not at all.” Quaritch answered, “Isn’t that right, Mr. McCosker?”

~~~~~~~~~~

Several excruciatingly long hours later, Quaritch received an alert from the staff in solitary that Spider was awake. He’d spent the time decompressing in his apartment and absorbing all the information he’d learned from Nash McCosker. His annoyance that Spider was the reason Sully got away a year ago was easily overlooked now knowing how hard the boy’s childhood had been. But despite it all, Spider was still a great kid…

He was down in the solitary confinement cell with Spider as fast as possible, borderline jogging through some of the long corridors to get from the living quarters to the prison block. Quaritch stared at the boy, tucked into one of the corners as small as he could make himself. When he was sedated, they’d changed him out of his native attire into a hospital gown and boxers. What really completed the ensemble was the straight jacket.

It made Quaritch sick to see this poor boy snared like a maniac…

”Hey, tiger.” Quaritch said with a sigh. The boy looked up and the colonel felt even worse seeing the tear tracks on his cheeks and terrified expression. He sighed again and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Shit really hit the fan…everythin’ will be ok. But, goddamn it, kid…we gotta do better. Alright?”

Spider bit his lip and sniffled, nodding his head quickly.

”Good. Let’s get you something to eat.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

Not wanting to risk triggering Miles again, Quaritch had some breakfast delivered to his apartment instead of going to the cafeteria. Spider hadn’t said a word since leaving solitary. He hovered very close to Quaritch as he led him back to the apartment and sat on the oversized couch with his legs hugged tight to his chest in complete silence.

”Eat up, kid.” Quaritch said flatly, putting the plate of scrambled eggs and bacon on the cushion next to him. He sighed for the umpteenth time since coming back to the apartment as he sat on the other side of the couch, rubbing his eyes against the tension headache relentlessly pounding in his skull.

Spider looked up from where he hid his face in his knees but didn’t move to eat yet. His eyes looked glassy like he was on the verge of tears again. After a few minutes of silence, the recom looked at him with a disgruntled look. It made Spider flinch.

”Eat.” Quaritch said more firmly this time. The boy nodded and ate quickly. The colonel watched him finish everything on his plate like his life depended on it. He cleared his throat to get Spider’s attention and said, “I’m not mad at you, Spider. I know you’re all mixed up right now and…didn’t mean to hurt anyone. That McCosker is a prick…”

Spider stared at Quaritch wide-eyed then looked at his bandaged hand. His eyebrows pinched together and he bit his lip as it trembled. He sniffled again.

”Kid, I’m not good with whatever this is.” Quaritch said annoyedly and waved his hand to reference Spider’s emotional response. “You gotta talk to me. Or if you just…need time to yourself, you can go to your room.”

Tears started to slowly fall but Spider nodded and got off the couch. He walked over to the two open doors with almost identical bedrooms and paused. Quaritch watched him, concern brewing over the boy’s strange behavior. He leaned his arms on his knees and observed him carefully.

Spider was standing in front of the bedroom doors, his fingers fidgeting with the hem of the hospital gown. He seemed unsure of himself. Lost. Scared, even.

”Left door, Spider.” Quaritch said, realizing the boy didn’t seem to know.

Spider looked back at him, gripping the shirt tighter. Quaritch raised an eyebrow but waited this time for the boy to speak.

”Um…” Spider finally started in a quiet, uncertain voice, “…uh, are we friends?”

”Uh…” Quaritch’s ears went back and eventually he nodded and responded, “Yea, I like to think so. Why?”

”I-It’s just…only my friends call me Spider.” the boy started with a shrug. His voice was quiet and meek, completely unlike anything Quaritch had ever heard from him. “Grown ups usually call me Miles.”

#atwow #atwow spider #miles spider socorro #spider socorro

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