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"It's been too long," Jake said, kneeling beside her. "Are you sure everything's okay?"

Neytiri glowered at him and replied, "Yes, Jake, for the eighth time, I'm fine."

She should have given birth almost two weeks earlier, at least by Jake's reckoning. Keeping an accurate account of time was something of a challenge in the absence of dramatic changes in the day-night cycle of Pandora, discernible seasons, or radio calls to Hell's Gate to check in with a calendar. Occasionally he thought about making a sundial for the clan, but he knew neither how nor if any of the people would pay particular attention to it. The people did not measure their lives in days – they did not even have birthday celebrations – but by their spiritual and physical growth, whether they were ready for rites of passage, and by which animals were migrating or plentiful.

Even if he could not pin down a specific time that Neytiri ought to have given birth, after years of serving as the Omaticaya's olo'eyktan, Jake had seen scores of pregnancies – one of his duties, indeed, was to preside over each birth along with tsahik. His time with the Omaticaya had allowed him to develop a good sense of what was a normal term, and what was not, and Neytiri's was not a normal term.

Not long after Norm had left with Abe's team to carry the fight for Pandora's future to Earth, Neytiri asked to be moved into an alcove at Hometree's floor, as she no longer felt comfortable walking high among the branches. Normally, a Na'vi woman would give birth within a matter of days after moving from her hammock, but that had not happened for Neytiri.

Jake felt he had a right to worry; however, Neytiri did her best to ease his concerns. "Many women are pregnant for a long time with their first babies," she said. "Mother was pregnant for a long time with my sister."

He frowned and replied, "It can't be comfortable for you, though. And if you're not comfortable, the baby…"

"Jake," Neytiri interrupted, her eyes narrowing, "I'm going to give birth. That is not going to be comfortable. Everything else is irrelevant."

He could not come up with a response to that.

Jake sat beside her and took her hand in his. "You'd let me know if you were concerned though, right?"

"I'm concerned about you," she replied. "There is nothing you can do to change this. The baby will be born when it is time, and it is not time." She smiled and kissed his hand. "Be patient, Jake."

"I'm trying," he replied with a grin. "It's just that my mind keeps thinking of ways that things can go wrong."

"What is your heart telling you?"

Jake took a deep breath and said, "My heart says to trust you."

Neytiri leaned over and kissed his cheek in response.

"There is something we haven't talked about, though, that's weighed on my mind and my heart."

She raised her brow. "Oh?"

"The baby's name." He held up a hand to preempt her objection and said, "I know it's tradition to wait until the birth, and I'm okay with that. But I was hoping we could talk about other traditions when it comes to the name itself."

Neytiri appeared confused and asked, "What other tradition is there?"

Jake scratched behind his ear and replied, "Sky People sometimes – oftentimes – name their children after people they admire, or people they want to honor. I was wondering if we could talk about some of those names."

"You want to name our child after a Sky Person?" she asked, and her tone was less curious than it was incredulous.

"Not any Sky Person," he said, hoping that would preempt her concerns. "Or maybe even a Na'vi."

"Jake, each person is named for the signs at his or her birth in order to celebrate the uniqueness of their character," she replied. He frowned. She must have noticed his deeper disappointment, because she sighed and asked, "What names did you have in mind?"

"If it's a boy, I was thinking Tom, Norm, Tsu'Tey, or Eytukan," he offered. "And if it's a girl, Grace, Trudy, or Sylwanin." When she did not appear to be persuaded, he looked away and said, "But we don't know what the signs will be, so—," his voice trailed off.

Neytiri took a deep breath and looked down at her stomach, then gently ran her hand over it. "Those are good names," she eventually said. "They are – they were – good people." She smiled at him and squeezed his hand. "I will think about them along with Eywa's omens."

He kissed her cheek. "Thank you."

Days later, Neytiri went into labor. Despite her pain, she insisted on following the tradition of giving birth along the riverbank. Dutifully, Jake took her into his arms and led the procession. Along the way, he recalled the only delivery he had been a part of on Earth.

It was shortly before he shipped out to basic training, right after his high school graduation. One of his closer friends had become pregnant during their senior year. Her parents were so disapproving of the affair that they refused to be present when she gave birth, and so she asked him to be there for moral support. He obliged, but the hospital staff refused him admission to the delivery room. Instead, he was taken to a reception room and seated before a video monitor so he could watch the birth remotely.

The camera was positioned overhead and was of such poor quality that Jake could not tell at first if he was watching his friend or not. When he realized that, in fact, he was not viewing his friend's room, he tried to get a nurse to correct the situation; but none was available – or cared. Instead, he waited until a hospital staffer came back and informed him of the successful delivery, and then abruptly told him that he was free to leave the hospital.

"I'll be sure to tell your sister you stayed, though," the nurse had said as she turned to leave. "Most people don't."

"It's not my sister, it's my friend," Jake had curtly replied.

"You have a good day, too."

The Na'vi took much greater interest in childbirth, and many of the people had asked to be present for the moment Neytiri gave birth. Indeed, of the many deliveries Jake presided over as olo'eyktan, there were typically twenty or thirty people present. However, since this was the birth of his and their tsahik's child, hundreds walked behind Jake and Neytiri.

He was both touched by the outpouring of support and very unnerved by how public the event had become. Neytiri seemed to share his emotions, as between breaths she said, "I didn't think we agreed to have this many people attend."

"They're just excited," he replied.

She looked up at him and asked, "Are you worried?"

He kissed her forehead and said, "No. You're doing great."

They arrived at the river without incident, and they found a shallow pool where Neytiri could be seated comfortably. Jake had already asked Nakllte to preside over the ceremony, along with Mo'at, since he had to participate as the father. He sat behind her, holding on to her shoulders, while two midwives took their appropriate positions. The rest of the clan stood behind them.

While Nakllte and Mo'at led the crowd in songs, Jake did his best to provide support for Neytiri, even though he felt particularly helpless in the matter. At times, however, Neytiri would have enough of a moment of clarity to reassure him that his efforts, small as they were compared to the midwives', were welcomed.

Neytiri's labor had begun shortly before sunrise, and it was well into the afternoon when one of the midwives announced, "You have a son, Tsahik."

Jake was beside himself with joy, and despite her pain, Neytiri managed to smile. "Let me hold him," she said, her arms already – instinctively – outstretched.

Jake could not take his eyes off the infant – his son. Of all the children he had witnessed come into the world, his appeared radiant beyond them. He was precious in a way that escaped Jake to describe.

Though his son's eyes were still closed, he instinctively latched onto Neytiri's chest once handed over, his fingers – just four to each hand, which gave Jake some relief – finding the best grip.

Jake leaned in and ran a finger over his back. "Hey," he said quietly. "Welcome to the world."

He looked over to Neytiri, whose eyes were also fixed to their son. When she did turn to look at him, her smile was beaming. Looking back to their child, she asked Mo'at, "What signs do you see, Mother?"

"There are many great signs, daughter," Mo'at replied. "Eywa, like all the people, is celebrating your son's arrival."

After a while, Neytiri handed their son to Jake, who proudly took him into his arms. The baby's eyes were still closed, but he responded positively to Jake's voice. Jake smiled and said, "You don't know it, yet, but you look like your mother." He paused and smiled at Neytiri. "That's a very good thing."

He stood and, with great reluctance, handed his son to Mo'at so she could read his signs better. Before she carried on with the ceremony, however, she smiled broadly and took a moment to be a grandmother, cooing over the child.

Although Jake did not mind her display of affection, he quietly spoke into her ear, "I think the people have been waiting here long enough." She nodded, picking up on his hint to carry on with the ceremony, and began to note the many signs of nature, and his body, that indicated the kind of person he would grow up to be.

It was at this point that one of the midwives said, "There is a lot of blood."

Jake and Mo'at turned, brows raised, and Jake saw the worry in the midwife's eyes. He immediately went back to the pool. "Neytiri, are you okay?"

"Jake?" she asked faintly.

He put his fingers on her neck and was alarmed by the weakness of her pulse. She was having trouble keeping her head up. "Neytiri, talk to me," he pleaded.

"We have a son," she said faintly.

He nodded and replied. "We do. We have a beautiful, healthy son." He whispered. "A son who will need his mother."

She took a shallow breath, closed her eyes and said, "Don't worry so much, Jake. You're going to be a good father."

"You're going to be a good mother," he replied. She leaned over, and her head fell onto his shoulder. He put a hand on her cheek and, his voice beginning to crack, said, "Neytiri?"

She did not respond.

"Neytiri!"

Her last conscious thought was that she had to nail the turn in order to regain the lead, and then everything went black. Everything was still black, as she was unable to open her eyes.

Though unable to see, Natalie knew she was in the hospital. Some of her earliest memories involved the sounds of hospital equipment. They were almost as familiar to her as her parents' voices – or her mom's at least. She had not heard her dad's voice in more than four years, the last time he was able to speak with her from Pandora.

More than anything, she wanted to feel him holding her now, like he would during her long hospital stays when she was young. Natalie would also settle for being able to feel anything, or to be able to move anything. Despite her best efforts, however, she found herself in a state of total paralysis.

All she could do was wait patiently until she could hear something other than the beeps and clicks of the machinery in her room.

Natalie had no way of knowing how long passed before she heard the footsteps. "Missus Scheller?" an older man's voice asked. She assumed he was a doctor, and so he had to know her condition. If she could chide him for being oblivious, she would have.

However, she was surprised when she heard her mother reply, "Yes?"

Either her mother had fallen asleep, or had been keeping a silent vigil over her. Regardless, Natalie felt a pang of shame that she had not sensed her mother's presence.

"I have the results of the scans," the doctor continued. "Would you like to go over them here, or—?"

"Here's fine," her mom insisted. "I'm not leaving my daughter."

"I understand." There was a pause before he continued, "The A-T-R-T in Natalie's spine has had about a ten percent increase in mass since her last scan, but we don't think that's what's caused her condition."

Ten percent?! Natalie asked – to herself, she quickly realized.

Her mom, however, was not so limited. "A ten percent increase?!" she asked incredulously. "How the hell does a tumor grow that quickly? It's been stable for seven years! It was fine at her last check-up."

"Well, ma'am, it's been eight months since Natalie got a check-up," the doctor replied in a tone that a parent might use to gently scold a child. "She should be coming in at most once every three months."

"And if we could afford it, she would," her mom shot back.

Natalie never received details of how her father was abruptly fired, thus costing the Schellers their health insurance. Whatever happened, however, had set of a string of legal battles that quickly drained their financial resources, even though every suit RDA brought forward was ultimately thrown out of court.

Per the law, Natalie's mom purchased health insurance, but it only covered one basic check-up per year without copayments. The kind of specialty care Natalie required had to come out-of-pocket.

Her mom had taken a consulting job shortly after they learned Dad was fired, and she tried to assure Natalie that money, while tight, was not a problem. This was the first time she heard otherwise.

"All the same," the doctor said, apparently unfazed by her mother's sharp tone, "we might have been able to catch its growth, and the metastasizing, sooner."

Oh fuck. Please, God, no.

"It's metastasized?"

"We've detected it in her lung, and a new, smaller growth farther up her brainstem, which is what we believe caused her to collapse into her present condition."

God, please.

The silence seemed to last forever. "Is there anything you can do?"

"Surgery is an option for the new growths," the doctor replied. "Treating the lung should be easy enough, but obviously the brainstem presents a number of challenges."

I turn nineteen in two months. I got accepted early to Berkeley.

"Obviously, but can you get it?"

"We have one of the best surgical teams in the country," the doctor replied. "But, still, it's dangerous, especially given the condition she's already in."

"My daughter's fine, doctor," her mom countered. "Just get rid of these tumors, and she'll be fine."

The doctor was having none of her mom's emotional pleas. "Missus Scheller, other than the fact that your daughter is currently comatose…"

Don't talk to my mom like that, you fuck! Don't talk about me like that!

"…we expect that, if she recovers, she is going to have severely impacted motor functions. We can probably repair them, but that will take several operations."

So do it!

"So do it!" her mom shouted. "Let me approve the necessary forms, and get started."

"Can you afford it?"

"I have insurance. What does it matter?"

The doctor sighed. "Natalie was enrolled in a clinical trial for her A-T-R-T, correct?"

She was until, a little over a year after her father was fired, RDA purchased the laboratory where the research was being conducted and promptly shut down the trial.

"Yes, and it ended two years ago."

"But you kept purchasing the medicines that were part of the trial's regimen, correct?"

"They were working, so of course I did."

"We've already spoken with your insurance company," the doctor said, "and they're considering this episode to be the result of experimental medicine undertaken without proper medical oversight, which they're not obligated to cover."

There was another long silence, and then her mother began to laugh. "So what the fuck is the point of having health insurance if it won't cover you when you need it?! This is part of my daughter's pre-existing condition, and it's illegal for them to not cover it."

"They disagree," the doctor replied flatly. "And they won't cover any procedures until they're given evidence to the contrary; and I'm not allowed to authorize anything without assurance of payment."

"How long will that take?"

"Longer than she has, given what we're seeing now."

You're wrong!

"No," her mother said after a pause, her voice beginning to crack. "No, I'll call them. We'll get it sorted out, and they'll cover it." She took a deep breath before she continued. "In the meantime, yes, I can pay for whatever needs to be done."

The doctor might have replied with something else that was emotionally detached from the situation at hand, but someone else entered the room. "No you won't, Krysta."

Natalie recognized his voice, and she quickly calmed down.

"Who are you, sir?" the doctor asked.

"Thomas Walsh," he replied. "I'll be sure your administrators get my financial information to cover the Schellers' expenses, so get to work on whatever you need to do."

Doctor Walsh, she knew, was her mom's father-in-law from her first marriage and one of her father's colleagues at RDA. Natalie did not know why he continued to take a liking to her after she divorced his son and remarried, but he had been a foundation in Natalie's life for as far back as she could remember. After her dad left, Tom did his best to keep them up-to-date on his progress. Those updates stopped after her dad's termination, however, and then Tom became a source of moral and, she was beginning to figure, financial support.

"Tom, you can't…" her mother began.

"Like hell I can't," he interrupted. "Do you need me to say it again, Doctor? Quit standing there and get to work on my granddaughter!"

Your granddaughter?

"Yes, sir," the doctor replied, Natalie took some pleasure in the sound of his hurried exit.

"Your granddaughter?" her mom asked with a short laugh. "You're not becoming senile, are you, Tom?"

He chuckled and said, "No, but it got his ass moving." He took a breath and asked, "How is she? I got here as soon as I could."

I can't move and I can't talk, Uncle, but other than that—.

"She had one lap to go, when all of a sudden she stopped at the wall and just—," her mom's voice faded as it sounded like she was fighting back tears. "She's been doing so well, Tom."

"Shh. Hey, c'mon, there's nothing you could have done differently," Tom said. "It's just one of those things."

"No, Tom, it's not," her mom replied. "Cancer was beaten before even you were born, and neither Abe nor I have a family history. This shouldn't be happening."

Tom sighed and said, "It's never really been 'beaten,' just identified and suppressed with better medicine. Additionally, we're finding now that kids who underwent pre-natal genetic therapy have higher rates of cancer or mutations than their family histories would predict."

I was screened?

"So this is our fault?"

"No! Jesus, Krysta, you can't think that. No, it's not your fault, and she's going to survive this."

"I just—," she sighed. "Goddammit, Tom, why is Savage doing this to us? What the fuck did Abe do up there to piss him off?"

Did he hurt the Na'vi?

"I'm sure he didn't do anything," Tom replied. "Parker saw an opportunity, and he jumped on it."

Who's Parker?

"Do you think he's really dead, or is he just 'dead' like Abe?"

Dad's dead?! Wait, 'dead like'?

"Yeah, I'm sure Parker got what he deserved. But still, let's say Parker wasn't embellishing the facts, and Abe had gone over to the Na'vi's side…"

Dad was supposed to be working against the Na'vi?

"…that would be enough to push Savage over the edge."

"And to retaliate against a teenage cancer patient," her mom replied with a snort. "That makes plenty of sense."

"It doesn't have to make sense when you have the kind of power he does."

"I know that," she replied. "Believe me, I worked for the prick long enough to know that."

Can you guys get back to my dad and the Na'vi, please?

"Listen, Krysta, it's going to be okay. You just have to hold on for a while longer."

"How much longer, Tom? And why are you so confident?"

"Other than the coded message we got from whoever the hell it was?" There was a pause, and then Tom took a deep breath and said, "Right now Savage is getting updates from Pandora by some woman who he thinks is the head of the engineering corps, but I remember her from thirty years ago when she volunteered for the Avatar program." He chuckled and said, "She's a real bitch – that's no act – and she's got Savage running in circles. But her story's too neat, too scripted. It's got Abe's fingerprints all over it."

"So you think he has a plan?" There was another pause, and then her mom laughed and said, "Listen to me ask. Of course he has a plan! When doesn't he?"

Who are you two talking about?

"I'm sure you're looking forward to it as much as I am." Another pause. "I'm going to head to the administrative section and make sure they have my financials, and then I am going to have to head back to work. Keep me informed, and don't ever worry about interrupting me. I want to know everything as it happens."

"I will – and I won't," she replied. "Thank you, Tom, for everything."

"It's my pleasure." Another pause. "Hang in there, Nat. Everything's going to be fine."

Thank you, Uncle, but I'm going to have a shit-ton of questions for you when I get out of this.