Avatar
There are not many that realize there's differences out there, entire worlds out there, that we are just not capable of understanding.
There are species whose complexity goes beyond anything crudely close to what we can imagine.
There are lifestyles within those species that not all humanity could, or would be willing to, comprehend.
People such as Colonel Miles Quaritch who thundered, headfirst, into his own death, would never have understood.
Pandora is one of those worlds.
A world that is not meant to be exploited and ravaged by humans just as they have done with that which they call their own.
Planet Earth has had to suffer from their ignorance.
Pandora will not.
Strangely enough, the fate of this world rests on the shoulders of a man, who is scrabbling to keep his human shell alive long enough to make sure he succeeds.
His unmoving legs are no help to him anymore and he twists his body in desperate attempts to grab the object which holds relief.
The mask is fastened to the wall and without being able to rely on the flimsy limbs that chain him down, he struggles to reach it.
His fingers scrape at the rubber tube but he cannot reach, no matter how much closer he scrambles.
He cannot breathe.
His sight is growing hazy and he tries to gulp in the air.
He knows the atmosphere of Pandora is not made to aid his dying lungs and replenish his body with oxygen but he does not care.
It is his last desperate attempt to find a grip on the mask that will save his life.
His hand cannot crawl any further and the gadget falls short of his body as he sags down the wall of the trailer, his actions no longer controlled.
His muscles shriek, they spasm uncontrollably from the lack of air and he coughs but does not bring anything up.
He swallows but any fluid seems to have dried in his throat.
He is not scared anymore. His desperation has vanished and only regret floods his senses.
He can hear her pleading cries mere feet away from him and never has a thin steel wall seemed such an invincible barrier.
He almost wants to cry for the loss he can feel crawling in, the pain it causes to know she is there but does not know.
And in the last irrational moments that his breath lasts he is glad that she does not know… that she will not see the pitiful body that he is caught in now.
The body that couldn't save itself.
So different, so much weaker, than the body that fought out there for the People he wanted so much to call himself part of.
The fire in his blood is burning hot and as much as he wants to fight against the toxins that his body is breathing, he does not even find the energy to twitch.
His eyes are open but he does not see.
Her eyes are angry, disbelieving, worried and they are threatening to spill tears.
She knows he is not dead, she can hear his breath, see the slow rise and fall of his chest as he lies crumpled in the clearing…but she knows he is no longer there.
In the past, she has not had reason to worry – he has always come back within a sunrise and she knew he had a different body elsewhere.
But this time she senses there is something wrong.
He would never leave in the midst of battle…he couldn't even have been sure the man in the monster was beaten when he collapsed.
She knows he would not have left her to fight by herself…yes, something is definitely not right.
Her ears twitch in fear as she hears wheezing breaths and for a skipped heartbeat she thinks it is him.
He cannot be dying. He was not injured...her eyes frantically search his body.
His chest is not stuttering and his features are not contracting in the pain that she can hear on the gasps in the air.
Not only rasping breaths but a warning noise that is frequent and repetitive, beeping loudly in her ear, now that she is aware.
"Jake…"
She swivels, senses open and searching and she knows that the dread building inside her is justified this time.
Jake…her Jake…is dying.
It's instinct that leads her to the foreign silver construction that she would think twice of approaching under normal circumstances.
It's rashness that makes her pound against the thick Plexiglas that obstructs her way, without avail.
It's love that propels her through the broken window, into a room that is cramped with sharp edges and potentially dangerous with a smell that makes her nose tickle.
It's love that has her leaping across the debris of the smashed glass to the still form lying on the ground.
It's love that has her calling his name, relief and worry mingling, as she lifts the unresponsive body into her arms.
"Jake…my Jake…"
Her voice is breathless with earnest as she shakes him.
She is at a loss…unsure of what to do with a body that is so small and weak but she knows she must make him wake up.
His arms swing limply and he stares but does not look anywhere.
Her breathing accelerates, where her heart was still with dread before it is now thrashing.
For once in her life, her motions are clumsy, uncoordinated as she fumbles with the gear that is hanging near him, yanking it loose to press onto his face.
Praying he will live.
Sounds escape her lips that she is not even aware of. Sounds of denial and desperation.
It has become a chant in her head…she is focused on her work but she pleas with Eywa for this man.
Her fingers tremble in their quest to give him what he needs, to find the lever for this strange mask to help him breathe.
She does not know how long his race can survive in her world without a breath and she hopes he has time.
She has fought to save the body of her lover from the ones he once called his People, now she needs to save the soul of her love.
She cannot feel the tears that run down her skin.
All she can do is sit and be swallowed by a whirlwind of emotion as he moves in her arms, his eyes suddenly alert and his breath fogging up the covering of the mask.
He chokes then frees his arms to grip the edge and pull it down on his face tighter whilst the other hand clenches around a knob that releases the oxygen flow.
Never has she been more fascinated by the movement of his five fingers or more entranced by the strange beauty of a human.
Her human.
He is gasping for air but she is not concerned for all she can feel is the selfish relief of his being resting in her hands instead of Eywa's.
It dawns upon her that she has never seen his human form before.
She sees the similarities of his Na'vi body, the strong jaw line, the slim lips and broad nose…even the slope of his forehead is similar to that of the hybrid she knows.
It seems almost comical, the situation of her overshadowing him and yet she soaks in the feeling of him needing protection, being in her arms, real and alive.
His breathing slowly stabilizes and she sees a smile hinting on the corner of his lips as he sucks in the oxygen.
She hasn't even noticed that her face had split into a smile at the sight of his awakening.
There is a pause, a real pause, now that he can breathe again and the danger has passed.
She looks into his eyes, small in his face but clear and shining with life.
She used to believe that humans have tiny, beady, evil eyes that hide away their souls instead of laying them bare for others to see.
Now though, in his eyes that are the colour of the rivers, she can see that she was wrong.
There is raw emotion in those eyes, adoration for her and wonder at being alive…such love that she can feel it pouring over her.
His hand is so much smaller than it was before but it possesses the same warmth she felt that night and ignites the same fire under her skin as it whispers over her cheek.
He is alive.
Her hand moves of its own accord, covering his easily and feels the faint ridges of its smooth texture, the softness of the flesh.
The doubts that have been nesting in her heart before vanish as she feels his fingers caressing her skin.
Neytiri is certain now, whatever person Jake Sully will choose, her love for him will never wane.
Ironic, almost, that this Na'vi woman would give him his breath back.
She has brought him to life when he had lost himself in his human world and now she had saved it once more.
He sure was more indebted to her than he had ever planned.
The feel of her battle-streaked skin under his was enough to make a surge rush through his body that had absolutely nothing to do with his oxygen levels replenishing.
He swallows and is grateful to find that his throat is no longer standing in flames, because he finds that he needs to say what he wants to say.
"I see you"
Her smile lights up her face and he can feel the tears slip onto his skin as she replies in her beautiful solemn voice.
"I see you"
The tears stick to her lashes as she closes her eyes and he feels the urge to wipe them away but he cannot bring himself to remove his hand from her cheek.
It seems that, even while she is cradling him, she needs to feel him holding onto her too.
They remain still for a few minutes and he moves into a sitting position slowly, relieving her arm of his weight.
He still cannot bear being a burden.
She pulls back, golden eyes opening to watch closely as he rights himself, leaning on arms that are finely muscled, even for a human.
She crouches in the narrow space of the trailer, tail flicking anxiously, suddenly more aware of her surroundings than before.
He feels her uneasiness even though he is no longer connected.
A thought occurs to him and he tenses too as he realizes, "My body…?"
"You are safe. The man is no longer alive" she says and her expression hardens, for once, without hesitation, "I do not grieve"
He cracks a smile at that and shakes his head lightly, "Neither do I"
Once again she is fascinated by the gesture that is so much like that of her Jake out there, and she has to remind herself that he is the same.
He seems more comfortable with the body he resides in now, more adept to using his limbs than when he had first been as a Na'vi.
"Baby", she had called him when they first met, "Moron!", but to her it seems unreal to call him such in this form.
She still cannot properly grasp the fact that it is him, with his pale skin and the dark markings on his right arm and the short crop of hair.
"Jake…they are still fighting" she reminds him softly and his face scrunches up with indecision. "We have to leave. They need our help"
"I can't. The machine is broken" his voice sounds strained as he turns his face away and it seems that suddenly he is angry that he is not capable to find a better answer.
She tilts her head to look at the large container that glows from the inside like the night forest. It looks like a death trap to her.
"You can't fix it?"
The Dreamwalkers she has met so far were all intelligent beings and she does not doubt for a second that Jake isn't too. Different maybe, clumsy and inexperienced, but not stupid. He knows how to use those machines so shouldn't he know…
He grunts in an attempt of laughter that sounds only bitter to her ears. "I'm not a scientist. There's no guarantee I'd get it right even if I found out what was broken. Neytiri…"
"It doesn't matter. You breathe into that and we go to the others" she pauses and holds her breath for a few moments. Her mind delves into those of the creatures of Pandora. "There are no more…"
She mumbles in her tongue, eyes closed and concentrating before a smile breaks out. "We have won. They are taking the survivors away"
"Neytiri…" he tries again but she does not hear it. She is still connected with her world and too excited, too relieved to contain herself.
"Come! We must find the…"
His sudden flare of temper catches her off guard as he snaps, "I can't!"
Her golden eyes catch his in mid-sentence and he looks away immediately. She does not understand the emotion on his face, the reluctance in the way he holds his body off the floor.
For a few moments there is nothing but the sound of his breathing under the mask, the rasping sound as he exhales and the air hits the glass.
She kneels down before him again and is astounded to find him stiff, refusing to accept her touch as she lays a large hand on his arm.
She thinks she knows what is bothering him and she does not really know how to take such silly thoughts out of his head.
It irritates her that he doubts himself even though she knows it is her fault that he feels unworthy.
"Jake…it doesn't matter what body you are in. You saved us when we refused to listen. You protected us when I had disgraced you before the people and…"
"It's not that"
She silences, puzzled. He has never been so interruptive before and only once has he seemed so apologetic and ashamed at the same time – when he confessed his treachery.
She doesn't want to think about the different scenarios that he could be meaning but somehow, she dreads what he is about to say.
He is struggling again, she can see it in the way he swallows heavily and when his eyes finally meet hers, they are brimming with defeat.
"I can't walk"
For a moment she does not comprehend at all.
For a second she can only marvel at the beautiful sound of his voice, even in such a subdued manner, that is so different and yet exactly the same as the Jake she knows.
She can only stare into the depths of the eyes that are pale as spirits and deep as the waters. Eyes that are trying to tell her something more than his words.
Then her gaze darts down reflexively to his legs that still lie in between their bodies.
He is wearing clothing that covers them down to the ankle but she can tell that they are very thin compared to his athletic upper body.
Her confusion etches into her face and she lifts her palm from his arm, leaning back on her heels to look at Jake squarely.
"You mean?"
"I mean I can't walk on these legs" he grits out the words as though he is angry at himself though she cannot place any reason why, "I had a bad injury. Now I can't move them anymore. Never again"
She is silent. First she doesn't know what to say…are words even necessary?
There is nothing she can do to express how much she feels for him, no, with him, how much she can suddenly understand him.
All the strange behavior.
She realizes just how much his other body must mean to him. The freedom, the self-control, the simple ability to move around again.
Her heart thuds painfully in her chest suddenly and closes the space between them again, her body close enough to his so that she can feel the tremors running over him.
"Jake…" she breathes, softly, soothingly, "I see you. You as you are now…and I don't want you any other way"
His expression of tension turns into one of disbelief and she can almost see the misunderstanding etching into his skin.
She hisses in desperation because she can see the turmoil behind his mask of stillness and takes his face between her hands. Her long fingers curl around his head gently and she can see herself reflect in his eyes.
Blue on white.
"Whether you are in this body or any other, all I want is you with me. I want you to be just like you are - legs or no legs. I do not judge you by your body. I see your soul, Jake"
He longs to kiss her so badly right in this second and he curses Pandora for not granting him that freedom.
As much as he wants to express his gratitude for her words, his overwhelming love for this female, he doesn't intend on it being the kiss of death.
His eyes are locked intensely on hers and he hopes she understands what he is trying to say.
She may not have a magic touch which heals his legs but she most definitely just healed his heart of quite a big bruise of doubt that has lingered there ever since the night they spent under the trees of whispers.
He takes her hand again, running his fingers along her larger ones before molding their hands together in an embrace.
White on blue.
It's strange but he somewhat likes it that way.
Not that he wouldn't give anything to be in his Avatar body this very second but suddenly the colors don't seem like a grotesque contrast as they did before… because it feels just right.
She was right all along.
He shouldn't have beaten himself up over something he was not at fault for. He'd learnt back on earth to live his life confined to a chair and he had overcome it. He had survived and as a result, gotten hired for an adventure like no other.
But the wounded pride had always been there, nesting within him, the involuntary shame at having to be looked down upon.
How could he have been scared of her rejection when he knew it was not the foreign Daywalker body that she fell in love with but the person behind it?
Ah, to hell with irrational worries and stupid thoughts.
He releases her, heaving himself backwards on his hands and reaching for the folded up wheelchair in the corner of the trailer.
He notices her wary expression as he reveals the metal construction in its bright yellow and opens it and he almost snickers at her guarded manner towards it.
It's tricky to get in from the ground but it's nothing he hasn't done before. He maneuvers it so it is lodged between the debris of the broken machine and the table before pulling himself up by his arms.
Settles right back in like he was never gone.
He waits for her reaction and sees only plain curiosity as she scoots closer and touches the smooth surface of the metal and runs her finger over a wheel.
This time he does let out a faint chuckle at her exploration. "You're like a baby too, you know that?"
Caught red-handed, her arm darts back to her side and she hisses but her smile betrays her false irritation. She doesn't know how beautiful she is to him when she does that.
Such as when she was teaching him how to ride. What a failure those first tries had been.
But she had smiled at every single one of his fruitless attempts and that alone made it worth pushing himself out of the mud to get on yet again.
He can't even express how glad he is that she is alive.
But somehow, he knows he doesn't need to. It's in every blink of her eyes, every movement of her fingers, every heartbeat – she understands.
He can see now.
