The world seemed to still. Aonung stood there, face frozen in disbelief as he took in the boy in front of him. His clear blue eyes were so wide, Neteyam could see the waves reflecting within them. The breath was stolen from his already damaged lungs.

Aonung opened his mouth, words coming out cracked and unbelieving.

"You're awake."

And then he was running. Before Neteyam could even move, Aonung had yanked him tightly against his chest. He cradled the injured Omaticaya in his embrace, arms encircling him tightly. His head was buried in the dark blue stripes on Neteyam's neck. " Oh Eywa, Neteyam I thought I had lost you."

Neteyam was unsure what to do. Not when Aonung was holding him in such a way. The chief's son was practically shuttering in relief. A finned hand came up to tangle in his braids while the other wrapped around his waist as though he might disappear at any moment. The warm press of the other's skin seeped into him.

More than anything he wanted to nuzzle back into the hold. To allow Aonung to keep carding his hands through his hair as if he was something precious. But he couldn't.

Because Aonung was holding him like he mattered, like he cared. And that ached more than anything because he knew it wasn't true. Not after everything Aonung had shouted at him. What he must have been thinking about Neteyam the whole time they were together. When they were intimate. Half-breed. That was all he would ever be to Aonung.

He couldn't take it. Neteyam ripped himself away, trying to hold the remaining pieces of his heart back together. His chest protested at such a sharp movement but it was nothing compared to the rapid beating of his own heart, tired and aching.

"What are you doing?" Neteyam whispered painfully, unable to look up. He didn't think he would survive if Aonung said those things to him again.

Aonung's face dropped but when he tried to take Neteyam's hand, the forest Na'vi flinched away in grief. When he spoke, Neteyam's own voice was small and scared. He wrapped his own arms around his stomach as if he could hold himself together from the pain of repeating those words.

"You called me a freak. Told me I was a plague. Why are you here, hugging me?"

Lo'ak tensed at his side, ears flaring back.

Aonung's expression turned to devastation. As if seeing the true effect his words had on Neteyam shattered him. He reached forward once more, distress covering his face as he looked at the broken boy before him. But he was shoved away by a furious Lo'ak.

His brother's ears were pulled back and his sharp teeth were bared. "What did you call my brother?" he demanded, eyes alight.

"Lo'ak-" Neteyam started, trying to get between his brother and the Na'vi who broke his heart. He couldn't possibly take more fighting. "It is fine, please don't-"

But Lo'ak wasn't listening. Instead, he stalked forward, tail whipping back and forth like it had the day they all fought on the beach. "No," he growled, shoving Aonung once more. "What did Neteyam ever do to you?"

"Don't," Neteyam pleaded, reaching up to grab his brother's arm. But the second he tried to pull Lo'ak away, he came face to face with his mistake. The motion sent excruciating pain up his torso, leaving a fiery trail in its wake. His lungs burned as if they had been punched. A pained noise exited his throat and he dropped his hand, clutching at the bandages around his stomach.

Aonung dropped everything and rushed to his side, helping Neteyam up. A worried hand cupped his face while the other supported his side. It was all too much. The way his blue eyes traced over him anxiously, the warm hands that held him, the closeness that caused his heart to ache. This was a special kind of cruelty.

A loud bouncing squeal came from further down the beach, halting everything.

"Kiri! Kiri! 'Teyam is awake!"

Before he could process it, a little blue figure was barreling toward him, crashing into his back. Tuk all but pushed Aonung out of the way as she nestled herself against Neteyam's side. He took in a sharp inhale, unable to brace himself for the pain that racked up his body. Despite it, he instantly pulled her closer, letting her comfort herself in his embrace.

"Brother?"

Kiri's voice rang out in shocked happiness, her sounds getting closer and closer as she ran to his side. Thin, Omaticayan arms wrapped around him in joy, quick to scoop Tuk up, so she could properly hug the injured Sully as well.

"Mom said you were gonna be okay!" Tuk told him gleefully snuggling into his neck, reaching out from Kiri's arms.

Neteyam placed a hand on her head happily and gave her an affectionate pat. "Of course I would TukTuk," said, careful to not show any pain as she accidentally rested her weight against the worst part of his injury.

Eternally grateful to Lo'ak, his brother was quick to scoop Tuktirey back into his own arms, despite the little girl's protest. He placed a quick kiss on her head to soothe her little huffs. She was quick to move on as her little fingers traced the bandages that wrapped around him. "Does it hurt?" she asked with a sad face.

"Of course not," he lied, rubbing her cheek. "It was barely a scratch."

Lo'ak's eyes shot up to his but he shook his head slightly, wanting his sister to have this. Indeed, Tuk seemed satisfied with his answer because she smiled up at him happily, her little fangs poking out. This, he thought. This is what he was fighting to protect. He would have gladly died as long as they were all safe.

Tsahìk Ronal was waiting at the marui by the time he got back.

Her sharp eyes almost bore into him, no doubt assessing if any of her handy work had come undone. She seemed to be of the same belief as his mother, that he was not ready to up.

Tuk still clutched his hand in the entryway but he disentangled them with a quick kiss to her small forehead. Ronal's eyes softened slightly but her critical gaze returned immediately and he was ordered to lay black down.

Lo'ak lingered in the doorway a moment more but he was quickly shooed away by Neytiri. Surprisingly, Kiri was allowed to stay. It seemed the Metkayina healer had developed a fondness for the eldest Sully daughter. Perhaps it was her connection to Eywa that brought the Tsahìk such fascination. Her sharp eyes missed nothing.

"Come here, girl," Ronal summoned, holding her hand out firmly.

Kiri kneeled by his side and took the container from Ronal's hand, setting it down.

The Tsahìk ran her hands along the bandages and tsked when she found the corners rumpled. Rumpled from when Aonung had pressed into him…

He shut his eyes quickly and pressed the lids together, trying to will the boy from his mind. He could not be weak anymore, it would only hurt.

A sharp hiss exited his mouth before he could stop it. Ronal had begun to peel the bandages away. Each cloth strip fell apart with a tug, revealing a final layer of padding above his lungs. It took him a moment before he nodded, allowing the Tsahìk to peel it back.

A harsh exhale fell from his chest when he saw the wound. A clear burrow was indented in his chest, packed with a mix of herbs and paste. But even so, he could clearly see how far into his body it went.

Netytiri was at his side in an instant, her fingers soothing the hair from his face.

"Neteyam," she said, taking his hand. "You were very lucky to survive."

He nodded and leaned into her comfort as Ronal reapplied the remedy and began bandaging him up again with fresh wraps. Her hands worked systematically binding his chest while chanting words of healing. Over each layer, she would dip her fingers into the bowl Kiri held and flick the blessing liquid over his body. Her words were different from his grandmother's. Mo'at was the Omaticaya Tsahìk. Her songs were low and earthy, reminiscent of the forest and the dirt. When she spoke, she evoked Eywa through the ground.

Ronal's voice was the waves. She spoke harshly, like wind whipping against the shore. Each word to Eywa was a summoning from the sea and all its creatures. She healed from the ocean itself.

As the Reef Na'vi covered the last bit of his bindings, her hands rested firmly on his chest and gave a quick press, creating a whooshing sound from her mouth.

"Tìng syawn Ma Eywa," she uttered with her fingers holding over his heart. There was a moment of complete stillness where even breath seemed to echo before she bowed her head.

Ronal took one last look at the boy before handing a few things to his mother. "Apply every few hours and redress the wound. Healing will be slow at the very best."

"You," she said, leveling her gaze towards Neteyam, "are lucky to be alive."

He nodded silently, remembering to lower his eyes in respect for the pregnant Tsahìk. She paused for a moment taking him in. The teal lines of her face softened slightly in a way he had only seen her do when cradling her belly. "I am pleased you are awake, son of Toruk Makto."

And with that, she collected her tools from Kiri and stood. "Do not let him strain himself," she said sternly to Neytiri before taking her leave. The broad paddle of her tail swayed as she exited the marui and stepped onto the bouncy walkway.

Lo'ak would at least be right about having a battle scar.