i will soften every edge, hold the world to its best | 3
summary ;; Sullys stick together. You learn the hard way what happens when you don't.
PART 2 | PART 4
pairings ;; dad!jake sully x reader, mom!neytiri x reader, sully family x reader
genre ;; pure angst and family feels
notes / explanations ;; descriptions of blood and violence incoming, beware! shout out to the ppl who predicted the stuff in this chapter LMAO
so um... i couldnt tag everybody who asked when i said i would... there's apparently a limit to how many people you can tag. please forgive me đ im not taking any tagging requests anymore since i cant do it. so sorry about that,,,, seriously
also, thank you so much for 1160 followers! i still cant fucking believe it... daddy issues solidarity đ¤đťđ¤đť
âHi there Corporal, you hear me? Yeah, I know you do. As much as Iâm charmed by the fatherly love I could give you a big old sloppy wet kiss, we have unfinished business.â
Rain covered the rustling of clothes and the click-clacks of readjusted weapons as concentrated silence hung in the air, thick and heavy like the morning mist swallowing up the forest.
No answer.Â
What face could your parents be making right now? Heartbeat in your ears, you tried to hide your shame by looking down, but a jerk on your queue set you straight. the avatar holding you digging his gun sharper in your neck.   Â
âWhat, cat got your tongue all of a sudden?â The leaderâs stare found yours. âLet me give you a quick remedy.âÂ
Theyâd linked your device into another for the sound to be relayed outside and the voice detection range could be wider, in other words, they wanted your father to hear what was happening to you. Your braid was yanked as if the one pulling it wanted to snap it right off your skull, no amount of training could stop the scream torn out of you â all the show just for him.Â
The line was deadly still, save for some rustling, crackling static that you could have easily mistaken for hissing.
A ghost of a smile shadowed the manâs face, he extended his rifle to tip your chin up. âGuess weâre gonna have to be louder than that to wake daddy up sweetheart.âÂ
âStop!â Father yelled, the unexpected timing of it made you jump. That earned him a group chuckle from the avatars around you. âStop.â
He talked. He didnât leave you to fend for yourself in this. Thank Eywa!
âThat was fast,â the captor behind you said.Â
âThought youâd have forgotten English by now, playing native.â
â...Quaritch?âÂ
Quaritch. That awful, awful man from the stories your mother killed? Spiderâs father? But⌠But he was dead. How could sky people know how to cheat death?
âIn the flesh.âÂ
Fatherâs voice wavered, youâd think he was scared if you didnât know any better. âThatâs impossible.â
âBack from the grave just for you, Jake.â
âThen Iâll just have to put you right back where you belong.â
The squad of avatars openly laughed at that, boisterous, confident, arrogant.Â
This was Toruk Makto they were openly mocking. None of them would last for one minute in front of him and yetâ
âQuite the teary lovers reunion weâre havinâ here, but you got busy while I was gone, huh?â He looked down at you again, yellow eyes filled with mirth. âI have this tiny bird here we plucked right out of the air. Imagine my surprise to learn sheâs yours. Is this the only one, or you got yourself a litter now?â
Silence again.Â
âWhat do you want?â
âStraight to the point as always.â The smug smile momentarily twitched into an unamused, withheld resentment. This man was nearing the end of his capacity to keep taunting. âI donât think Iâll tell yet. You know I love to be a tease.â
Your ears rotated upwards in treacherous hope at your father's next words. âIf you touch one hair on my daughterâs head I swear to godââ
âYou exchanged your god for this shithole, Jake. Letâs not kid ourselves now.â Any hint of playing around was gone, now, eyes fixated on something on the ground ahead. âYour daughter will be my guest for a while. Think of it as summer vacation. Donât worry, unlike the Naâvi, weâre very hospitable.â His thumb brushed over a button. âUntil next time.â
âFucking bastardââ
With one beep, the call was over. Quaritch was touching the band around his neck this time. âIron Sky, Blue on Actual. We are standing by for extract, over.âÂ
You began to tussle against the avatar behind your back. âNo! No! Let me go!âÂ
âBe advised. We're bringing in a high value prisoner.â
âDadâs really gonna flay her alive this time, I canât wait.â Loâak, positioned just behind the flap of the tent to not be seen from the outside as he peeked with one eyeball just in case, was watching his parents vehemently yell at each other in whispers that started out loud, but got hushed probably to not reach him and his siblings. Aggressive limb gestures were flying in the air, and at one point, his mom had tried to run off somewhere and was forcefully stopped.Â
Dad was currently pacing around like a wild animal with one hand permanently stuck rubbing his face, and mom turned away from him, holding her forehead. âTheyâre really going at it, huh?
Kiri was not amused with his insistence to breach their privacy. âWhatâs so interesting about watching this kind of thing?â
âCatharsis?â He remarked in English, feeling sophisticated. âYou remember Spider talking about it? Purification and emotional cleansing through relief that youâre not going through the horrible tragedy, the character on stage is.âÂ
âYouâre normally so dumb.â Loâak bore his fangs at her matter-of-fact tone of voice. âYour brain only comes back on when itâs about chaos.â
âIâm petty, and what about it?â A tilt of his head to dare Kiri to ask for her point, then his attention was thwarted by an incomprehensible cry from his mother. She was pushing dad from his arms, furious like Loâak had never seen before as the upset man tried to hold her more. âLook at mom and dad breathing fire at each other! You think theyâre discussing how to punish her?â
âStop spying already skxawng, mom will be angry if she sees you. Weâre supposed to be in bed.â
âShut up, Iâm trying to listen here!â His ears were tilting at every angle to make out any words that reached to him as nothing but a cluster of broken sounds. âWhy did they have to go far?âÂ
âBecause they wanted to be away from peeping toms like you?â
âAnd youâre still here too, so?â Loâak gave his sister a meaningful look. âI know you wanna see too.â
âUgh!â Kiri shoved out her tongue at him, eyes dead. âAnd itâs not funny, by the way! They are fighting. Stop being happy about it.â
He knew they were fighting about his older sister, and that sheâd get all the heat and fallout from it the moment she was back. Loâakâs head was full of what he could get out of it, or what to ask her for in return for helping her out in her detention. So satisfying to be the sibling who wasnât in trouble. He should do it more, actually. âIt is funny when itâs not about me.âÂ
âYouâre sick for taking joy in anotherâs suffering.â
âOh, Iâm doomed, then.â Kiri took whatever fat was on his thin arm between her thumb and forefinger, and twisted. Loâak had to blink away the tears that rushed to his eyes, snatching his limb away from the displeased girl and pushing her away in return â he was annoyed at how much that hurt, why was that so damaging for no reason? âYeouch! What the hell?â
âWill it kill you to practice mindfulness once in a while?âÂ
He raised his voiceâs pitch to mock the wobbly, ear-scratching whine of yours, and exaggerated his body movements to match, too. âI hate you!â Â
âGross.â She tried to shove him, he caught her hands in the air, pushing her back and getting the spiteful annoyance of his sister as a result. âDad was actually hurt by that.â Loâakâs eyes could roll down the hills by themselves the way that sounded, but Kiri, as always, was bothered so inexplicably. âI donât like this. I have a bad feeling.â
That bad feeling was the herald of dadâs upcoming cranky ill-temper and what would follow after you inevitably had to come crawling back home with tail between your legs, Neteyam dragging you from the scruff of your neck. Loâak was refusing to sleep so he could enjoy the fight.Â
âMe personally, am over the moon, ikran duty is so gonna be off my hands. For months.â He halted at the idea that just went off in his head, tail swishing with the hype. âI wanna tell Spider. Iâll go get him.â
âAbsolutely not. You sneak off now and theyâll laser-focus all the anger on you!â Kiri was pointing a warning hand at him, but slowly lowered it, one corner of her mouth twitching up. She was holding back amusement. âHey, you know what? Nevermind, you can go. I want you to go. I have to see this.â
âHa-ha.â Loâakâs tail stuttered, losing enthusiasm. âAttempted murder, much?â
âGuys, whatâs going onâŚâ
Upon the unexpected voice that wobbled its way into their conversation, they both looked down to see Tuk gripping her weaved blanket with one hand and dragging it on the floor as she made her way to them, the other rubbing her eyes one by one so sleep dripping from them would fly away.
âSee, you woke her up! What do we do now?â
âYou woke her up by yelling, why is it my fault now?â
âI didnât, youââ
âDid too.â
âDid not.â
âDid too.â
âDid nââ
âGuysâŚâ Tuk pulled on Kiriâs hand, and the foreign object she was clutching the whole time distracted Loâak. It must have dug into the older oneâs skin that she carefully picked it up to inspect. The ear pieces they took off before they went to sleep. This one was Kiriâs. âNeteyamâs calling. You didnât hearâŚâ
Grinning, Loâak snatched it up and skipped backwards and put it in his own ear, ignoring Kiriâs hushed yells to give it back now and the groans about ruining it with his stinky, cheesy earwax. He had to keep bouncing around, the girl was chasing him around the tent. âBro! Tell her sheâs sooo dead. Dadâs literally keeping guard in front of the tentââ
âLoâak, quit it.â Neteyamâs tremulous answer was harsh. Loâakâs smile wavered as he dodged Kiriâs arm and jumped over discarded cups on the floor, knocking over wooden spoons. âI need you to tell me whatâs happening over there.â
âAw, babyâs so scared to come back she needs to make a game plan first?â He laughed, slapping Kiriâs hands away. âIâll only tell if she gives back my karambit knife.â
His older brother sighed, a bit too exasperated.Â
âYeah, Iâm not letting that one go and Iâm also making it your problemââ
âLoâak, she isnât here.â
He stopped dead in his tracks. âWhat?â
âShe isnât here. I couldnât find her.â Kiri bumped into him, unable to stop herself at the right time to hit the brakes due to how abruptly Loâak had stilled. Theyâd almost tumbled over. âDad told me to wait until he contacts her and Iâve been waiting for minutes. Now tell me whatâs going on over there.â
âBro, youâre serious?â
âWhy wouldnât I be serious, skxawng!âÂ
He turned to Kiri in disgusted discomfort, who had damn-near glued her own ear to his to hear better. âForget months, Iâll be free for years. Dadâs not gonna let her take one step off the camp anymore.â
The girl would stomp her foot if she was a couple years younger. âWhatâs this about?â
And Neteyam would shake Loâak from the neck for ignoring him this long while he was fussing. âTell me already youâ!â
âTheyâre having a fight bro.â He leaned better to peep outside the tent. âYeah.â
âShe came back? Why didnât you tell me?â
It was uncommon for Neteyam to completely disregard the previous input heâd been given. Loâak didnât understand this level of anxiety. âAre you having a brain fart? Would we be having this conversation if she was here? Itâs mom and dad who are fighting.â
It wasnât that serious â on the contrary, his sister was quite simple to understand. She didnât want to be found and had changed her place of hiding. End of story. The golden boyâs worrywart nature was keeping him from reasoning.Â
âDonât be a smartass.â Loâak practically felt Neteyamâs want to land a loud smack on his back. âWere they only able to reach her, then? Is that why theyâre fighting?â
âYouâre asking me?ââ
The older boy began to grumble under his breath. âThis is why I called Kiri.â
Said girlâs ears perked up over picking her name from the static-surrounded line. Loâak snorted. âOuch, bro.â
Kiri shook him from the elbow. âMe? What about me?â
âGreat title for your autobiography.â
Kiri raised her arms to give him a beating and Loâak was already bolting away from anywhere near her vicinity. The siblings didnât even take notice of the line with Neteyam going dark as they focused on their own play-scuffle for a while.Â
Until Loâak bumped into someone.
It wasnât Tuk.Â
Shoulders pulled into himself, he turned around torturously freaked out to find dad standing there like a ghost, his tactical vest packed to the brim and gun hanging from his back the way they wore their bows.Â
The blue of his skin had faded into an ashier tone, amber eyes wide and bloodshot, the veins on the normally put together Oloâeyktanâs forehead were bulging, even a socially clueless person would pick up something was seriously wrong. He commanded cold authority of the battlefield simply by the way he stood, immediately triggering Loâak into soldier mode. Â
He took a few steps back, chin hanging low at the lightless, unblinking stare his father pushed down on him. âSir.â
All the sleepiness that had Tuk unresponsive and nodding off through Loâak and Kiriâs push-and-pull was knocked out of her at the sight, she was now unnerved and frightened. âDad?â
The manâs intensity was somehow eased by his youngestâs reaction, but he held back from taking her in his arms like he normally would to comfort her, didnât even care to remark on how they were supposed to be sleeping â how theyâd woken their little sister up, instead focusing on Loâak. âI want you all to listen well. Your mother and I are heading out for a minute and your grandmother will be with you soon â Neteyam is Oscar-Mike to come back here. Stay put and donât go anywhere, understand?â His finger pointed accusingly at him. âDonât cause trouble. Looking at you boy, what Iâm saying here is Marine proof. Iâm at the end of my wits here, donât even think about slipping a tail out of this tent.âÂ
The potent severity of whatever the hell was making him this agitated to the point of a voice so hoarse it was unrecognizable got the wheels in Loâakâs head whirring. âWhatâs happening, dad?â
âOne child!â The thundering shout came down on him with the force of a falling mountain, making Loâak jump out of his skin. âI need one child of mine to listen to me without asking any questions today!â Dadâs voice broke when Tuk whined, he shut his eyes as if he was in physical pain, and flexed his jaw, shaking his head and pulling the girl in from her shoulders to soothe her. Still no direct hugging. âJesus Christ.â
âIâm sorry sir,â Loâak said immediately, distraught by the over-the-top reaction, hands unknowingly curling into fists by his sides. Whenever that sky people word âJesusâ slipped from dad not having any control between the border of his two languages, the boy knew it was demanding gravitas. âI heard you CFB.â
âGood.â He thinned his lips. âKiri, please.â
Loâak frowned at dad basically asking for her to play her brotherâs keeper in Neteyamâs absence in two simple words.
She nodded. âI know dad.â
He caught a glimpse of his mother running in the distance, her fatherâs bow in her hand.Â
Just what was happening? What had you done?Â
Eywa, it had to be sky people.Â
Dad saw the realization in his face. âStay,â he emphasized, one final time before he was also gone with the wind.Â
Loâak wouldnât have obeyed if it wasnât for his grandmother arriving just in time, keeping them busy with a story about the arrival of a wounded ikran with no rider.
You realized the gunshot wound puncturing your upper abdomen was there the whole time when the avatars put first aid and later slapped a rectangular sky people bandage on it that helped clotting or whatever it was called, the pain simply not being there had played a big factor in it with the body running on pure adrenaline.Â
(Crouching close to you, Quaritch had bragged, âWe arenât so bad after all, huh, sweetheart? Itâs called civilization. Your daddy ever taught you about that?â
Civilization, your ass. They needed you. There was nothing well-meaning about what they were doing.
And the nickname had ticked you off, sullying the good memories of father, your head slammed into his nose in full power after a hiss.
âNow my daddy taught me that!â you spat in English as other avatars had tackled you. The man claiming to be Quaritch was smiling as he wiped away the blood trickling down his nose.
What was the point in trying to patch you up if they were going to do this, then?)
You were now a part of an elaborate trap to lure your father in. Bait. The worst position to be in. This was the kind of trouble Loâak would get himself in. It was too late to go back now, the mess youâd gotten yourself into had made itself known.Â
Think, think! How could you get out of this?
Within the unsleeping forestâs nightly noises chirping all around you, a specific call in the air halted your train of thought.Â
It was mom.Â
Your parents were here. But how? How did they know where you were, exactly? Dread and expectation pooled in your heart, coexisting in a nauseating mix.Â
Father must be thinking that you already caused so much trouble, they couldnât know you were also hurt, youâd never hear the end of it.
But there was no time to think, the pain you should have been feeling was ebbing its way into your body, and she was calling in the night to inform you to get ready.
All hell broke loose when the man who held you tight from your queue was shot right from the back of his head with an arrow, collapsing right on top of you.Â
You couldnât get away in time to not be crushed by his dead body and promptly got squished between the mossy soil and him, his gun was hurting you, the wound on your stomach getting in the way of you using your core to push the body off.Â
How many minutes had passed with you struggling to get him off as a hurricane of bullets roared, you didnât know (it hurt, pain was climbing towards the threshold) â mom was able to break free from the weight of a whole AMP suit, as youâd heard as a child, a Naâvi was naturally strong, but you couldnât even crawl out. Panic was a rope tightening around your ribcage as your breathing picked up
All of a sudden, the weight was gone, and the only remaining thing from it was the big gun left from the avatar you found yourself hugging for dear life, eyes wide as saucers. Before you could see whoever had done that, you got hoisted up right back on your feet and tried to run, only to be held tighter and pulled behind the trunk of a tree.
âHey, itâs me, itâs me!â Clumsy, overwrought hands were cupping your cheeks and â and oh, it was your father.Â
You didnât know whether to be afraid or cry from happiness.
Once he was sure you registered it was him by staring intently in your eyes with that edge of the softness youâd missed so much, his hold shifted to your neck and around your shoulders, and he gave you a look-over, checking for any wounds. Too bad what he was searching for was behind the gun you were holding. âAre you hurt?â He shook you when you were too stunned to answer. âAre you hurt at all?â
âNo,â you shook your head automatically, it was weak against the explosions of bullets raining down all around you, but father had picked it up regardless, only focusing on you for the moment.
In the darkness, nobody could see the blood running down your body, that bandage had come out at one point.Â
âOn my mark, weâre gonna run, okay?â He nodded to you, tomahawk axe in hand coated in a dark substance, commanding your full attention. âFollow me. Ready? Ready?â
You werenât ready at all, stomach feeling like it was being stabbed at every heartbeat, but you couldnât tell him that.Â
Instead, you ran like hell, moored by fatherâs taut clutch on your forearm pulling you forward to match his incredible speed dodging roots, bushes and branches.Â
Things stopped moving only when you were enveloped in momâs embrace, consciousness almost flying off from the relief that washed over you. Kisses were peppered along your hairline and forehead, her mumbling your name in gratitude blending with your panting. Tears burned bitter in your eyes, but you couldnât cry, not when father was looking at you like that, chest rising and falling. You instantaneously remembered why you were holding that gun at the intensity he was radiating, tail escaping between your legs and letting mom hold you.Â
At least this way he wasnât able to objurgate you. Â
Over her shoulder, you saw three ikrans instead of two. Heart soaring, you were skipping towards him in pure astonishment in a heartbeat. âHey buddy!â Â
His head lowered down towards you in bird-like movements. In this angle, it looked like he was giving you a razor sharp-toothed big grin.Â
âHe brought us here,â your mother said. The hand you were going to pet the ikran with stopped midway at her dejected tone. âYou have passed Iknimaya, I take it. On your own.â
You didnât know what to say, feeling immense guilt at having made her this disappointed over it. If this was any normal situation, any normal fight at all, you would have shot back with, âWell father told me to do it.â
But you were tired.Â
Your pain threshold was being threatened, and you needed to get to your grandmother before any of your parents saw the situation you were in and this escalated into the worst fight you were going to get into in your entire life.Â
Fatherâs only response was a dead cold, âCâmon, we gotta get outta here.â
He didnât talk to you after that. Not one word.Â
Squatting on an ikranâs back on a flight with an abdominal gunshot wound you were trying to hide was not an option unless you wanted to pass out midair and was looking for a free dive, so you were all but hugging the poor thingâs neck like a monkey, trusting him to follow your parents while you concentrated on mentally fighting to level out the pain.Â
Nonsensical as it was to believe the gun stuck between your ikranâs neck and your stomach was acting as a tampon to lessen the bleeding, you were concerned with how dumb it must have looked to father and mom, how incompetent they must think of you that their daughter didnât even know how to ride right.Â
Got an ikran for nothing.Â
Would they be less proud of you seeing how funny it appeared, nevermind that it was to contain your pain all the while not trying to faint?
But no words were exchanged about it.Â
Father clamping up right after heâd made sure you werenât hurt (yikes) had resulted in this awkward trip succumbing in total silence. They had sandwiched you between them, only necessary space for the ikrans to beat their wings freely left, so close that you could discern the scariest look on father yet, deepening the lines of age in his face while simultaneously expressing his barely contained desire to kill someone.Â
A ticking time bomb.Â
Forget speaking at all, but not only did he never address you until now, he didnât even look in your direction for once. You knew because staring at him for five minutes straight for him to just acknowledge your existence had proven to be unfruitful.Â
And the tears involuntarily streamed down your cheeks with how utterly worthless and alone that made you feel, trapped in this agony you couldnât help but hide because heâd think you didnât deserve to complain after bringing it upon yourself. You would rather bite your tongue and bear the pain than stay dreading his reaction.Â
Yeah, no, he couldnât know.Â
Mom was looking over at you every one minute to make sure you were okay after her ears picked up on your sniffles, arrows of worry shot from her side sinking down your skin every single time, and you hated to make her this way.Â
Your ikran kept comforting you through tsaheylu until you landed.
Father had promptly jumped down, agile and making haste away somewhere, passing you by and giving the cold shoulder. You all but slid off your own ikran, managing to make the gun stay where it should be, as you couldnât help but weakly call out to him for one drop of consolation. âFatherâŚâ
He didnât stop for you, quickening his steps, but his ears twitched, the tail beating the air ferociously halting and lowering before it returned to the previous motions, and those were the only indications that heâd heard it Lima Charlie.
The man just didnât want to talk to you.   Â
And you had to make yourself believe it wasnât the emotional devastation that had you falling down, but the wound sucking out all your energy now that you had gotten to safety.Â
âMaâite?â Mom rushed to you. âMaâite, whatâs wrong? What is it?â
âIâm okay, mom, itâs okay.â You were sitting on the floor, cross-legged. Thank goodness you still had the unbreakable willpower (and not the fear of Eywa put into you by father) to hold your shit together. âIâm okay. Just tired. My knees buckled. Weak, you know?â You swallowed, smiling. âIâm just⌠Just resting.â
Her gaze full of concern studied you, zeroing in on the gun you clung on for dear life against your stomach. Her hands lovingly brushed your hair, gripped your shoulders and elbows even though you were disgustingly clammy all over. It was grounding, anchoring within the ocean of pain washing over you in waves.Â
âOh, why are you sweating so much? Youâre freezing.â You clutched the gun harder in a panic when she grasped it, most likely to put it away. It was the wrong reaction to have, but you werenât exactly in the position to function healthily.Â
Mom, as any other person would, got suspicious from it, her eyes flying up to your owlish ones â blanked out like a frightened animal. âYouâre fine now,â she whispered, thankfully attributing it to how disturbed you must be, still not out of survival mode. âYou are safe, my daughter. Mom is here.â She cupped your cheek, but every touch to your body hurt now, even when it was away from the gaping wound, still gushing blood, trickling down your hips and getting you scared that itâd be discovered once you stood up. âIâm here.â She searched your soul to know just why you were grimacing at her attempts of comforting. âI will take this now, you do not need it anymore.â
You snapped out of the gradually darkening gray haze momâs lulling was laying you down gingerly into. âNo, please donât,â your breathing hitched. She was going to see. She couldnât see. You had to avoid this somehow, as long as you could. Grandmotherâs tent. You would make it, you had to. âIâll⌠Iâll just sit here for a while, okay? I need to just⌠take a small break, and then Iâll⌠Can you go back? Iâll follow later. Father is angry, I donâtââ
âNonsense.â Incredulous and enraged suddenly about something you couldnât put a finger on, and before you could stop her, she tried to haul you up with her by gripping your upper arms â colors exploded behind your eyelids, getting you you to lose consciousness for two seconds, your vision flooding back in a starry kaleidoscope. When momâs voice reached your ears, it was in staccato exclaims your ears were ringing too much to discern. She was shaking you.Â
You werenât able to sit up straight anymore, leaning forward â mom had caught you, utterly confused and panicked at the same time. And then your head was lying on the crook of her elbow resting on her legs sheâd tucked under herself. The moment youâd switched from sitting to straight up lying down was missing from your memories.Â
A baby being cradled. Yes, this is exactly what it was like. Gentle arms surrounded you amidst the pulsating sea of agony.Â
Your body was letting go, but your arms were vices around the gun, still holding that last line. Donât let go. Donât let go. They canât know. Father will be so mad if he learns. ââm okay⌠âst restinââŚâ
When your eyes cleared enough for the surroundings to be only a bit blurry, your mom was looking at the hand sheâd just tried to take away the gun with, caked with your blood that had stained it, out of it and perplexed like she didnât want to believe it.Â
Her gut-wrenchingly stunned numbness sent the misery clawing its way inside into overdrive, pulling your consciousness down to the earth from the clouds it was ascending to. âNot mine,â you forced out, but it came out as begging. Everything was falling apart. The plan was so simple, why couldnât you do anything right? âNot mine. Please. Mom, itâs okay.âÂ
âNoâŚâ Mumbling, she started sharply swaying back and forth, and with one brutally vigorous attack, she ripped the gun away from your arms, and hurled it away â then it was over. Your sob wasnât due to the motion hurting you, it was all entirely for the broken wail of your mother at seeing the bloodied mess, tears spilling from her eyes as she reached down to press down at the pouring liquid. âNo! No! Oh Great Mother! Why did you hide this! Oh, my daughter!âÂ
âNo, mom, Iâm fine, itâs nothing. Not my blood. Not my blood, okay?â You reached up weakly and wiped at her cheeks with trembling fingers, your heart got crushed worse than the pain could beat you down at her grief â lungs constricting. Where was all the air? âIâll get up. Iâll go to grandmother, donât cry. Just resting.â
Frantically looking around, she yelled, âJake!ââ but her voice didnât quite come out, breathy as if sheâd been punched in the ribcage seconds prior.
A heartbeatâs worth of nothingness, after which you were full-on freaking out. Only one thought: Father will be angry.Â
âNo!â You shrieked, and blood swelled in one strong pump against momâs fingers. She looked down at you in anguish, pupils blown wide, arm tightening around you as if you were a flailing bird. âDonât tell him! Donât tell father! Heâll really kill me for thisââ
âNo, no no no,â she shook her head, frenzied, tone cracked from beginning to end. âDo not say that. Donât you ever say thatââ
But you were struggling in her arms, wanting nothing but to crawl away into a hole, no reason registering whatsoever, only instinct. âHeâll be so angry,â you begged, pleading, pink spit bubbling at the corners of your mouth. The sound of gurgling accompanying the words you forced your whole body to form. âYou canât tell him â you canât! He already hates me!â
The more you thrashed around and kicked your legs, the more you bled.
âPlease, Great Mother!â The more mom lost her mind, hissing and howling hysterically, crazed, hugging you tighter and rocking. âJake! Jake! MaâJake!â She put her temple against yours. âNot my daughter, please, EywaâŚâ
Why was she being like this? It wasnât that serious! You were okay!
Delirium claimed you hot as she kept calling his name and her unbreakable hold on you kept you in a cage of a motherâs despair. In your feverish mind, a threat to your life was coming. Weakness spread like wildfire around your body and chipped away at the pain, slowly picking it apart to replace it with drowsiness. âDonât call âim,â you continued to repeat, over and over again. âIâm just taking a break. Donât call him over. Heâs gonna be angry. Heâll hate me. He hates me. Please, mom.â
The sentences slurred together, shortened, wilted away pitifully, your voice died down, tongue deteriorating into only echoing, âHe hates me.â A withered away, old flute.Â
Your ikran was bellowing in the distance and you looked. The torches on cave walls were illuminating him and finally revealing to you his beautiful color scheme.   Â
And then your father was here, falling to his knees right beside you, his glistening wide eyes flying everywhere around your body â tracing all the blood, hands hovering above you as if he didnât know where to start piecing a shattered vase back together.  Â
It was over.
Fully expecting the chastising you were about to receive to shake the floating mountains so bad the enemy would be able to spot you, you began to apologize â pride be damned, this battle be lost, youâd failed anyway. âPlease donât be mad,â you shuddered, meek and unsteady, tunnel vision flickering at the edges only perceiving him. âItâs my faultâIâm sorryâplease donât be angryââ
âStop talking,â he ordered, rough and harsh, eyebrows knitted tightly, and out of breath â probably because of how hard he was trying to hold the anger back. You knew. That had to be it. âDonât speak.â
Ah of course. This was only natural when he had refused to utter a single word at you the whole way, denying you the temporary comfort of a simple glance.Â
Even the hand he pressed down so ruthlessly firm on your stomach it might as well be a boulder pinning you down was meant to be punishment, the whines your unbreathing lungs couldnât stop turned into yowls â you hadnât even noticed your hands were wrapped around fatherâs wrist in an effort to push him away, scratching him, but he only added his other hand on top of the other in return.
âHang on, sweetheart, I got you, please hang on a little longer,â he pleaded, but you were already too far gone, Eywa was cruel to have plugged your ears to the endearment youâd been dying to hear from him for so long, making the last things you were aware father said to you the fact that he didnât even want to hear you talking.Â
And you fulfilled his wish.Â
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