Avatar is the property of people who aren't me. This work of fiction is not authorized by those people.

A/N – I'm going on hiatus for a few weeks, but I'll be back mid-late May. I'll focus on responding to your reviews and comments in the meantime.

Things had changed so quickly, Natalie could not think of anything else to do other than carry on with her usual routine and hope that in time, and sooner rather than later, her part in recent events would become more apparent. Reclining on her living room couch, Natalie tried to pay attention to her professor's lecture, as it streamed live on her television, but nothing he said seemed to register. She was studying for a future career as a researcher on Pandora, but just one floor beneath her was someone who could teach her, from first-hand experience, everything she could want to know on the subject.

Vertex had taken up a sentry position by the basement door. Each time he thought he heard someone stirring downstairs, his ears perked up and he would look back at her, as if to ask to be let downstairs. Each time, she would try to get him to come over to her and ignore the basement, but he would not heed her commands.

She looked at the clock and realized that, forty-five minutes into the class, she had not taken a single note. Natalie sighed, took her tablet from the table in front of her, and used it to request to be allowed to log out of the class. Before she was dismissed, however, she was routed to one of the professor's assistants.

The assistant, a young post-graduate student, appeared as a picture-in-picture over the lecture on the television and asked, "Is everything okay, Natalie?"

"I'm just having trouble concentrating, Emily."

"Did you have a hospital visit recently?" the aide asked. "I know your regimen takes a lot out of you, but you should be requesting medical absences ahead of time for those."

"No, it's not medical today," she replied. "I'm just not focusing. I'll be able to download the lecture later, right?"

"Yes, but the conditions of your tele-education contract are that you have to be logged in to the lectures, unless you have a medical excuse."

Natalie frowned, but after taking a moment to think, she shrugged and asked, "I get two absences before it affects my grade, right?"

Emily nodded. "That's right."

"So this will be my first."

"All right," she said with a nod. "The lecture will be available for download tonight, and your syllabus will update with assignments for Monday." The picture-in-picture disappeared, and a moment later the lecture was replaced by Berkeley's student menu screen. Natalie navigated the various menus to notify her other professors for that day about her absence, and she queued their lectures to be downloaded later.

As soon as she was logged out of Berkeley's intranet, she turned off the television and leaned back into the couch.

The house was quiet. Normally, this would not bother Natalie, as she was used to being home alone while her mother met with clients – as she was off doing now. However, the house was full for the first time in years. It seemed to her that there should be more activity, even before considering the seriousness of the last few hours, but everybody had retired to rest for the day.

Natalie might have considered doing the same if not for two reasons. The first was that, unlike her father and his cohorts, she was not exhausted from a night-long trek through the Diablo Range. The second was that her room was in the basement, where the Na'vi visitor had been given quarter. Although she had said, honestly, that she would not mind if he stayed down there, she had not given much thought about how she might interact with him; and now seemed like an inconvenient time to disturb him.

While she thought about what to do with the rest of her day, Vertex stirred again. However, this time, she could also hear movement from the basement. Her heart skipped as she hoped to see the Na'vi coming upstairs – making moot her concerns about bothering him – but she was brought back down to Earth when only his handler emerged.

Vertex tried to push past Norm to get into the basement, but he was quick to block him with his leg. "Stay," he commanded, but Vertex paid him no mind. He continued to try and push past him and into the stairwell.

Natalie clapped her hands, "Come here, boy." Vertex stopped, turned his head towards her, and whimpered. She repeated the command, and this time he obeyed, albeit reluctantly. She reached out and scratched him behind his ears once he was at her side, prompting him to lie down.

"Thanks," Norm said as he closed the door behind him. He then walked towards the kitchen.

"You're rooming with the colonel, right?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Right."

"Then your room is the other way – door's on the right."

He nodded and said, "But I can see that the refrigerator is this way and to the left." He grinned and added, "I'll turn back, though, if there's no beer in there."

Now both of Natalie's eyebrows were raised. "It's only a quarter after ten," she said. "Isn't that a bit early?"

"I've been awake for seventeen hours, and I haven't had a beer in nine years," he replied. "I promised myself to have one at the first possible chance once I got back, so I'll worry about the time later."

Natalie's skepticism faded, and she nodded slowly. "I have a couple of Valencia Stouts in there."

His lip curled, but then he shrugged and walked on. "A stout might be a bit much before going to bed, but I'll take it." Once at the refrigerator, he asked, "You said these are yours?"

"Yes, why?"

"How old are you?"

"Twenty."

He closed the door, a beer in hand. "The way your dad talked about you," he said as he twisted off the cap, "I kind of thought you were younger." He did not wait a moment after speaking before taking a long swig from the bottle.

"Is it what you wanted?" she asked.

He shook his head and took the bottle from his lips. "No. It's a bit too much like a coffee stout for me. However, it's cold and it's beer." He walked into the living room and sat in one of the chairs next to the couch. "So you were nine when your dad left?"

She nodded. "Why did you think I was younger? How did he talk about me?"

"You were his, 'little girl,' so I figured you for four or five."

"Did he talk about me much?"

"Only when he needed to make a point," Norm said as, this time, he only sipped the stout. "But he made points often, so I guess he did."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Your dad was trying to build up trust with us and the Na'vi, so he pretty much wore his fatherhood on his sleeve." He pointed the bottle at her and said, "I was there when he gave your doll to them."

"Yeah?" she asked excitedly. Natalie leaned forward and pressed, "How did they react?"

"Cautiously," he said. "The Na'vi's toys are designed to make children familiar with their responsibilities as a hunter from an early age. They have banshee and direhorse dolls, but not a lot of toys in their own images."

"Oh," she replied. "Well, for a nine-year-old, it was a good idea. But it – or something – worked, right? Or else why is—?"

"Tseyo."

"Or else why is Tseyo here?"

Norm finished off the bottle before responding. "Didn't your dad fill you in?"

"Broadly," she replied, "but he didn't say much about what actually happened on Pandora. Nobody has."

Natalie waited for Norm to offer to fill in the details, but he idly swirled the empty bottle until he took a deep breath and said, "Well, I'm sure you'll be filled in eventually."

She snorted and said, "Thanks." Norm just shrugged. "So, why doesn't Daddy want me around Tseyo? He can't be dangerous."

"What makes you think that?"

"Daddy brought him here," she replied. "I mean, if he's anything like my mom, then he probably thought all of this out way ahead of time. He clearly didn't have a problem with having Tseyo here, so he can't be dangerous. However, he got upset when it turned out that we'd pretty much be roommates. Why?"

Norm chuckled and said, "You are your father's daughter." He sighed and scratched the back of his neck. "To be honest, I don't think you should expect to spend much time around him. Tseyo's not a bad person, but he is a little weirded out by everything he's seen so far."

"So you're just going to leave him alone in the basement?"

"No, but he trusts me. He doesn't know you, so he may not open up to you." He shook his head and added, "The Na'vi, especially in Tseyo's clan, aren't predisposed to trust humans."

Natalie crossed her arms. "You aren't making sense. He's not dangerous, so I could get to know him; but because he might not trust me, I shouldn't get to know him – or let him learn to trust me, to trust humans. I mean, he's supposed to be the Na'vi's ambassador, right? Shouldn't he learn to trust people?"

"Tseyo's not here to be an ambassador," Norm replied. "He's here to be a witness."

She was getting angry at his evasiveness. "A witness for what? What are you and Daddy and everybody else so afraid to tell me? I'm not nine-years-old anymore."

Norm sighed and stood. "Your dad should be the one to tell you, not me."

"Well, Daddy didn't tell me," she said. "And if you're not going to tell me, then maybe I'll ask Tseyo."

"Believe me, that would end poorly."

She laughed out of exasperation. "So I'm just supposed to ignore the ten-foot alien in the room? That's what you're telling me?"

"I'm saying don't expect him to be your friend," Norm replied. "And right now, we need him to be focused on accomplishing our mission. After that, ask him or me or your dad whatever you want."

They stared at each other in tense silence, but eventually Natalie shook her head and sighed. "All right, fine, I'll forget about this. For now."

Abe rubbed his eyes in the hopes that it would help relive his headache, even though he knew it would be better for him to go back to sleep. He had managed a few hours of rest after the rest of his team was squared away in the house's guest rooms, but he still had plenty of work to do.

For hours he sat in his relocated study, scouring through an array of personal information databases, social networking sites, and news clippings to learn the whereabouts and activities of people he knew a decade ago. He had been surprised by the changes which had taken place in his own house, so he had no desire to be surprised once he got into the field.

What he found, however, was disheartening.

Many of his best employees in the Office of Asset Management and Information Security were no longer with RDA, and most of the ones who remained were in different offices – all of it likely due to a purge ordered by Savage. His list of street informants could be found in obituaries. One by one, Abe crossed off people whom he had thought would have been in positions to help him.

He leaned back in his chair and thought about the options which remained available to him, and he was not enthusiastic about any of them. What started into a deep thinking session, however, turned into an impromptu nap, and he was startled awake by a hand on his shoulder.

Abe turned around and saw Krysta standing behind him. He smiled and put a hand on hers. "How long was I out?"

"I'm not sure," she said. "But you were asleep when I first got home a couple of hours ago."

"And you're only just waking me?"

"Abe, you've had a long night. You're going to be worthless if you don't sleep at some point." Krysta grinned and said, "Besides, I had to leave again to get groceries." She pulled up a chair and sat in front of him. "Listen, Abe, I'm sorry about freaking out this morning."

"Don't be," he said with a shake of his head. "I know I laid some pretty heavy stuff on you."

"You brought an alien home," she replied with a laugh. "I can come to terms with everything else, but that's – Yeah, I'd call that 'heavy stuff.'" She looked at the many tablets he had running and asked, "Anything giving you second thoughts?"

"Second, third, and fourth," he replied with a sigh. "I think I've underestimated just how much things have changed."

"Well, it's too late to call the whole thing off."

He laughed and said, "Yeah, I'd say so." He took a deep breath and continued, "All hope isn't lost, yet. There are still a few critical people where I need them."

Krysta put a hand on his knee and said, "Walk through the aftermath with me, Abe. What do you expect things to be like if you're successful?"

"Immediately, I'd expect chaos," he replied. "What we're doing – what I'm doing – is going to make lots of people to burn. In the long-run, though, I think we'll be okay."

She snorted and said, "That's woefully lacking in detail."

He smiled and put a hand over hers. "Really? I thought that was a very detailed way of saying, 'I don't know.'"

"It isn't like you to not know."

"I've never been out front like this," he replied with a shrug. "It's new territory for me."

"I just hope you figure it out before Savage does," she replied. "I don't think I need to lecture you again about what the price of failure will be."

He shook his head. "No, I've got those details pretty well formed." Abe sighed and shook his head again, slowly this time. "He really tried to kill Natalie, didn't he?"

Krysta nodded. "He bought up the research lab the moment it became clear to him that he was going to lose in court. He put in a new administrator, fired the researchers, and locked up the research."

Abe rapped his knuckles against his desk and nodded. "Well, that's incentive enough not to fail," he said. "Where is she now?"

"Getting dinner started," she replied. "You still like shepherd's pie, right?"

"Absolutely," he said with a smile. "I would have killed for some up there. I want to go the rest of my life without ever seeing another M-R-E."

Krysta chuckled and said, "Well, she's learned to make a pretty good one. I mean, the meat probably isn't much better than in one of those rations, but…"

"It's food," he finished for her. "And it's at home. I'll take it."

Abe leaned forward to kiss her, and soon they had each other in their arms. He moved one of his hands below her waist and began to unfasten the buttons of her pants. She pushed away from him and said just above a whisper, "Abe, not now."

He kissed her neck and asked, "Why not?"

"Natalie can't cook for everybody alone."

"So dinner waits twenty minutes."

She laughed. "Abe, I love you, but you haven't held up dinner for twenty minutes in twenty years."

"Well, I have been gone for eleven of those," he said with a grin. "You can't make that part of my performance evaluation, Boss."

"That's the other thing, Abe," she said with a sigh as she stood up. "You know, I mean, I'm sixty-two. And with everything that's gone on—," her voice cracked and she wiped her eyes. "Sorry."

He stood up and put his hands on her cheeks. "You think I care about how old you are? It's always been a fundamental part of spending the rest of our lives together."

"It's not just my age or my body, Abe," she replied. "You just seem like a different person. Since when did you become this great, moral crusader? You and I both knew what we were doing in AMIS."

"And I don't regret it," he replied. "I'm not trying to make up for any of that. But Savage sent me away from you and Natalie, and then came after you when he knew I couldn't hurt him. Well, now I can hurt him, and I'm going to do it." He grinned and said, "Remember what you asked me when I first told you I was being sent to Pandora?"

She chuckled and said, "Of course. I asked if you looked him in his fat face and told him to fuck off."

"I will," he said.

"You'd better." They kissed again and held each other close.

As she unbuttoned his shirt, he whispered in her ear, "Besides, you don't look a day over fifty-five."

She kicked his shin and replied, "You're not helping, Abe."

Night was falling when Jake and Eytukan began their walk back home. They had not gone far – Jake's responsibilities would not allow him to wander too far away, in case his leadership was needed on short notice – but deep enough in the forest for Jake to give his son a substantive lesson in tracking. They had picked up on a hexapede's path, and when they finally came upon it, Jake let Eytukan try to approach as close as he could.

Much to Jake's surprise, his son was able to get close enough to make a solid pitch with bolas, were he so armed, and take down the animal. However, his confidence got the better of him, and a careless placement of his foot gave the hexapede cause for alarm; and it sprinted off into the jungle without bothering to look for an actual sign of a predator.

Naturally, Eytukan was disappointed with himself for letting the animal get away, but Jake reassured him that the point of today was not about making a kill. His son seemed okay after that.

Not far from home, Eytukan picked up on another animal of prey, and without a word ran off towards it. "Eytukan!" Jake called after him, quickening his own pace. "Don't go too far." His son, declining to respond, slid along the moss-covered ground until he came to a halt in front of a grove of ferns, and that was when Jake saw his son's target.

Eytukan grabbed a nearby stick and poked at the fan lizard. In its defense, and in an instant, the lizard unfurled the bioluminescent disc on its back and launched into the air to get away from Eytukan's prodding. Jake's son laughed in amusement – although Jake was sure the lizard was far less amused – and he tried to catch the creature as it floated in search of safety.

Jake, however, stopped him by gently placing a hand on his shoulder. Eytukan looked up at him with a confused expression on his face. It was a common game among children – really, among all Na'vi – to pester fan lizards into flight and then catch them; so Jake could appreciate why his son might be confused by being stopped. Jake smiled at him, knelt down, picked up a stone, and then threw it into the dense growth of ferns.

A moment later, dozens of fan lizards were in the air, all startled by the rock's flight through their nest. The grove, which had before been glowing with a faint blue-green that was common among most plants in the jungle, was now illuminated under a rich purple light due to the number of lizards which had taken flight. Jake took his hand off Eytukan's shoulder, and the moment he did he ran, laughing, into the pack of lizards, grabbing at any that came close.

Jake let him have fun with the helpless creatures for a short while before saying, "All right, child, we have to get home."

"Can I bring one with me?"

Jake shook his head. "Their home is out here."

His son frowned, but he understood. He released the lizard he had already captured, and then rejoined Jake's side for the rest of the walk home. "Did you chase fan lizards when you were a child?"

"No," he replied. "I didn't have them near my home when I was a child."

Once again, his son looked confused. "Why not?" Jake was about to respond with his default answer, but Eytukan beat him to it. He sighed and asked, "Do I have to wait until I'm older before you tell me?"

Jake's heart sank at the disappointed tone his son had taken. It seemed to Jake to be everything opposite of Eytukan's usual optimism, and he found it unpleasant. Jake wondered if his son was still too young to hear the truth about his past; but he felt that if his son was able to ask the right questions, then he deserved to know.

Jake put a hand on his shoulder. "No." He stopped walking and sat on his knees in order to be at eye-level with his son. He took a deep breath and said, "Eytukan, no matter what I tell you right now, you know I'm your father, right? This isn't going to change that."

Eytukan nodded.

"Do you remember when you asked me about my hands?" Eytukan nodded again. "Do you remember what I told you?"

"You said it was how Eywa made you, so you'd be unique."

That was a close recollection. Jake had not invoked Eywa in his explanation, but he could not blame his son for automatically doing so. Like all Na'vi children, he had already been taught to revere the all-present consciousness, and its role in guiding life on the planet. Jake might have let the insertion pass if it were not so fundamental to what he was trying to tell his son.

Jake shook his head and corrected, "I did say it was how I was made, but not by Eywa."

"Then how?"

Jake had to smile. That was going to be a conversation for another time; but for now, he was content to let Eytukan believe children were entirely the products of Eywa. "Eytukan, you've been told about the dreamwalkers, haven't you?" He nodded. "That's who I was. I was a Sky Person, and this body was made for me to live among the people as a dreamwalker."

His son looked at him in disbelief, but then he laughed. "Father, those are just stories. The Sky People have different bodies."

"They are stories," he said, "but not like make-believe stories. They're part of our history."

"But in the stories, the Sky People sent dreamwalkers to hurt us," Eytukan replied, the levity quickly draining from his voice. "You're Toruk Makto. You can't hurt us."

"Before I was Toruk Makto, I was a dreamwalker." He sighed, "And, yes, I was sent by the Sky People to hurt the clan."

"Did you?"

Jake nodded.

Eytukan looked confused, and then with trepidation revealed to Jake that he had a better understanding of where children came from than he let himself believe. "If you're a dreamwalker, then am I a dreamwalker? Am I here to hurt the people?"

"No!" Jake said emphatically. He put his hands on his son's shoulders and said, "You are one of the people. They are your family."

Eytukan was quiet for a little while longer, and then he asked, "Did my mother know you were a dreamwalker?"

"She did," Jake replied with a nod. "She was also the one who taught me to love the people."

"And she loved you?"

"We loved each other – very much."

He was quiet again, and then asked, "Will you ever become a dreamwalker again?"

Jake shook his head. "No. The Sky People made this body for me, but the people and Eywa made it so that I could never go back to being a dreamwalker."

Eytukan stepped forward and hugged him, and Jake was quick to return his son's embrace.

"Are you okay?" Jake asked as he idly rubbed Eytukan's back. "Do you have any more questions?"

"No," his son replied, his voice shaking. Jake thought he could feel a tear roll down his shoulder. He worried that he should have followed his plans to wait a while longer before telling his son about his past.

Jake held him more tightly. "I'm still your father," he said. "I still love you very much."

"They say only bad things about the dreamwalkers," Eytukan replied. "I don't want you to be a bad person."

"I'm not a dreamwalker anymore," Jake said. "And I promise to not be a bad person."

Eytukan took a step away from him, revealing that he had been crying. Jake offered him a smile and brushed away the remnants of his tears with his thumbs. "I see you, father," he said, "and you're not a bad person."

Jake's smile broadened and he nodded. "And I see you, Eytukan. You're a very brave person."

He smiled weakly and said, "I think we should go home, now."

Jake nodded again and stood up. "Do you know the way back from here?"

Eytukan nodded and pointed in the correct direction. "I can almost hear the rest of the people."

Jake grinned and asked, "Do you want to race home?"

His son smiled and did not hesitate to take off in a sprint. Jake's gait would have allowed him to easily outrun Eytukan, but he wove back and forth behind his son, only occasionally taking a few-pace lead in order to encourage him to run faster. Along that final stretch of the path home, they could not avoid to startle a number of fan lizards, each time eliciting a laugh from Eytukan.

One day in a future that seemed to come at him ever faster, Jake knew that he would need to make an effort to beat his son in a race. Then not long thereafter, he would lose. Jake knew it was inevitable, but he did not dwell on it; and as they broke out of the jungle and into the tall-grassed meadow that was the bed of their home, Jake hoped his son was not dwelling on it, either.

There were far too many more fan lizards to bother for him to worry about such things.