Author's Note: Another one! It's late, I'll edit later! Woooh enjoy!
"I'm sorry, Neteyam..." Maria says softly, running the back of her fingers over the side of his face as he cries softly through his wheezing. He pulls the mask down around his neck, looking at his daddy pleadingly as the male gathers up everything that the little boy will need, stuffing it into a green knapsack, the same one he used to transfer his meager belonging from the ship in orbit down to Bridgehead planet side over half a year ago.
Has it really been that long?
"Daddy..." he whines softly, coughing hard enough to rattle something in his chest. "Go with, Daddy. Me go. Please?"
Quaritch shakes his head, moving from some of Neteyam's many half-done projects to the dresser that they share, opening the bottom one to grab a few tewngs for him to cycle through while he's away from their quarters. He's not sure how long they are going to be gone, so he's just gathering enough stuff to hopefully be able to keep Neteyam entertained while he's with the scientists. Realistically, he knows that someone could come and get whatever it is that Neteyam wants while their gone, but Quaritch doesn't like strangers in his space.
This space is for him and Neteyam.
"No, baby. You are too sick," he says sternly, avoiding looking at the visible devastation written across his little face.
"Good," Neteyam insists, a few wet coughs escape him. "Be good. Okay? Okay, Daddy?"
Quaritch sighs, keeping his expression strict when looking at the little boy as to not fold under those big, watery gold eyes. "Now, listen here, boy, you are sick as a dog. You are going to spend a few days with the scientists while we're gone. Maybe if you feel up to it, we can go out when we get back. How's that?"
Neteyam wilts, congestion gurgling in his chest as he struggles to catch his breath. Maria pulls her hand from his little face after wiping away a few tears to settle onto his back, rubbing tenderly into the soft skin, hoping to comfort the little boy. Neteyam's ears press back as he blinks wet butterfly lashes, coughing hard a few times before looking at Quaritch, miserable. "Please? Go with? Please?"
Quaritch steels himself as to not break under that soft, whimpering little voice. Maria's shoulders droop as she rubs at Neteyam's back, looking at Quaritch in sympathy. It's hard to say no to that little pouty face. Especially since he looks so miserable anyway. But there was no way they were going to take him with. Quaritch locks him down in Bridgehead when he's running a mild fever, with how hot Neteyam is burning and how absolutely miserable the congested little boy is now, there is a greater chance of successfully walking on the sun than convincing Quaritch to let Neteyam come with.
"No, baby boy, you are too sick," he says firmly. Neteyam wilts more, his little shoulder bowing inward, coughing roughly into his elbow. He looks around helplessly, like the answer to his plight would be floating around his head. Nothing seems to come to him, so he lets out another few, watery coughs before sucking in a gasping breath, trying to fill his lungs.
"Okay," Maria says, pulling the mask back up onto his face once again and adjusting it into place. "No more taking the mask off."
"Please go? Ma...ma..." Neteyam attempts but a harsh cough cuts him off. "Mommy..."
Maria recoils, eyes wide and ears perked. Her eyes flicker over to Ja, who was sitting on Neteyam's other side. He wiggles his eyebrows at her while Maria flushes, trying to ignore the way her tail swirls in joy. She clears her throat, composing her expression.
"You have to listen to your daddy, Neteyam," Maria says evenly. Quaritch grins at her.
"Not so easy, is it?"
"It's fine, sir," Maria says, keeping her voice level. "He's not going to trick me."
"Remember, born with a spine twice in your lives," Ja teases.
"Thanks, Z," Maria snaps dryly. Lyle, who was leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest, smirks at that. As if able to sense it, Maria casts a sour look over her shoulder at the bald male. He splays his fingers out in surrender, that smirk never leaving his face.
"Alright, let's go," Quaritch says making his way over and lifting Neteyam up into his arms. Reluctantly, Neteyam just rests against the older male, withholding obvious affection in protest as his little chin digs into Quaritch's shoulder. "I have never been late before, and I don't intend to start now."
Neteyam, finally giving up, pouts quietly in Quaritch's arms as he's carried to the dividing room that will let them into the rest of the Bridgehead main facility. Before leaving the commons area on the way, the rest of Blue Team call for their goodbyes, Fike coming over to pat Neteyam's back in sympathy, promising to bring him back something cool before allowing Quaritch to move on. Neteyam waved a little hand to Blue Team, sniffling, as he goes by. Maria and Lyle join Quaritch in dropping Neteyam off while the rest of Blue Team get everything together so that they are ready to head out once the three return.
While they were heading down the hall to the medical wing, Neteyam coughs so hard and for so long that he rang dolls in Quaritch's arms, blacking out, thankfully for only a moment. The sensation of falling, and Quaritch's quick reflexes gripping the back of his neck and head to keep it from snapping backward jerks him back into awareness and he springboards into Quaritch's arms, holding tightly to him, crying softly in fear.
Maria reaches over to press her hand to his forehead, sharing a frowning look with Quaritch.
"His fever is back and it's bad," she murmurs, brushing some of his long braids from his pale face. "Poor baby. He's suffering."
"I feel it," Quaritch rumbles, rubbing Neteyam's back as soothingly as he can.
Neteyam rests against Quaritch, closing his eyes tiredly. No matter how badly he doesn't want to be left behind, as this would be the first time since Neteyam joined Blue Team, it is like all of the energy has been sapped from his little body.
"I got your message," one of the scientists - a biologist that Quaritch can tentatively stand with a substantial understanding of Na'vi physiology that has taken quite the liking to Neteyam - says in way of greeting as soon as they enter into the medical bay. "So, he's too sick to take him with you?"
"It's bad, Veronica," Maria says, crossing her arms over her chest as the woman turns away from the items she had gathered together at Maria's request. She turns, frowning, a bit and following Quaritch over to the bed in the far corner furthest from the door. Neteyam's preferred bed as he felt safe tucking into a corner knowing that the danger could only come from all the sides he could watch.
"How bad?" Veronica asks, squeezing past Quaritch's hulking form to get access to Neteyam. All she needed to do was take one look at him and place a hand on his forehead before pulling away. "Oh, he's burning through my glove."
Neteyam doesn't react, knowing that he's supposed to pretend like h doesn't understand English. He just nuzzles closer to his daddy, wishing that he would just change his mind and either Neteyam would get to go with them, or his daddy would choose to stay behind. He knows that neither are going to happen, but a part of him can't help but hope so. He shouldn't, he knows, but he does anyway.
"Well, let's get him all set up over in his corner," Veronica says, going to the other side of the room to grab out an IV from the chill fridge and making her way back over to them. Neteyam doesn't let Quaritch go, in a futile hope that it would make him stay longer. His daddy won't be late, he knows, because he never is. Neteyam isn't even really delaying the inevitable.
Knowing it's going to be a few days of constant attention to that fever, Veronica capitalizes on Neteyam remaining calm in Quaritch's arms to insert a peripheral IV catheter onto the back of his right hand so that it wouldn't hinder his dominant hand. He only flinched a little at the needle sliding in, but just holds tightly to Quaritch as the man gently rubs at his back, slowly putting him to sleep despite the trouble he has at breathing.
Neteyam tries to hold on, he really does, knowing that if he falls asleep now, when he wakes up, his daddy will be gone. Again. But he doesn't want that. He wants to keep his daddy with him for as long as he can.
"Stay with me," Neteyam says in Na'vi, knowing that his dad has a good enough grasp of the language at this point to at least be able to piece together what he's saying. "I don't want to be without you."
"I know," his daddy says in his shotty attempt at the language. "Will be back."
"Stay with me," Neteyam says softly as cool fluid from the IV enters into his system, immediately taking the bite out of the heat that radiated from across every inch of his flesh. He coughs a bit as Quaritch settles into the bed, wrapping the blankets around him at the first shiver. He tucks Neteyam in carefully, while sitting at the edge of the bed, watching him.
"Will be back," he says again.
Neteyam sinks into the sheets as Maria grabs out Neteyam's favorite blanket from the bag that his daddy packed for him, knowing that the medical bay gets extremely cold. She leans passed Quaritch to drape it around the little boy, smiling as he pulls it tighter around himself.
"Get better, kid," Lyle says in his own shotty Na'vi, patting Neteyam's leg before turning around and head for the entrance to the room. Maria pulls her mask around her neck for a moment and leans down to kiss Neteyam's forehead. He reaches up a little hand to touch her cheek, smiling loosely as she kisses his palm before putting it under his blanket so that he can keep warm.
"Rest up, baby boy," she says, kissing his forehead one more time before moving away, heading for Lyle at the entrance to the medical bay, wiggling her fingers in farewell. Neteyam shifts, turning onto his side, wiggling the fingers he has sitting out of the covers at her before looking over at his daddy. Quaritch watches Veronica flutter around for a bit before walking over to chart Neteyam's information.
Since he got there, they have been meticulous in their detail keeping of his health. Neteyam doesn't understand what is being put into those notes, but he supposed that it wasn't meant for him.
Neteyam reaches out to touch the back of Quaritch's hand, still not completely sure what he's allowed to do when others are around and what he's not. Instead of being angry or upset, Quaritch takes his hand and gives it a little squeeze, offering a little smirk. He whistles softly, Neteyam's song cord, and Neteyam's eyes immediately droop closed. Quaritch gently runs his thumb over the back of Neteyam's hand, soothingly.
Neteyam coughs lightly a few times in his mask but is too tired to do anything about it as he drifts off. He fights it, or he tries to at least, but in the end, he's too sick, too exhausted, and sleep claims him.
"He's sick again?"
"This will be the third time in a lunar cycle."
"Toruk Makto is out on a hunting expedition... don't telll him..."
"Too late for tha...Tsahik already sent..."
"... on his way back now..."
"...ut the clan needs him to..."
"...clan heir, and his son... what are we to..."
"...every single time... always for..."
"I can't be...have to stop..."
Neteyam opens fever-induced hazy eyes to see Veronica arguing with a couple of Sky People soldiers - "warriors" his people's equivalent. Daddy and Blue Team have been gone for so long. At least a few days at this point. Two, maybe three. He misses them. Veronica is good company, and he really likes her as she's not as scary as some of the other scientists are, so he doesn't mind spending time with her, but it's not the same. She tries to entertain him every time he wakes up and she's present, but once again, it's not the same. He wants his daddy and Blue Team to come back to him.
He doesn't want to be alone anymore.
Veronica doesn't tell bedtime stories as good as Fike does - he's the only one that gets the voices right. She doesn't have the eye for color or detail like Z does. Her cuddles aren't as good as Zhang's are. And he hates not being able to sleep without Daddy. Daffy will whistle his song cord or rub at his back or just hold him close and Neteyam always feels better having him nearby.
And this fever yoyoing up and down for the last few days doesn't help him. It makes him feel more isolated. More alone. Veronica is a relative constant, for the most part - sometimes others come to see to him, but it's mostly her as per her arrangement with his daddy, but it's not enough. It's not daddy. It's not Blue Team.
"Neteyam," Veronica says evenly, her voice clipped as he drags bleary eyes over to her. "Has. A. Compromised. Immune. System. We can't just have you or your goons wandering around in here. Especially because he's sick. So, forgive me if I lack any decorum when I tell you to get out."
"Testy, doc. Don't get your panties in a twist. We don't mean no harm."
Neteyam blinks his eyes, coughing lightly as he shifts onto his side to squint at them. Each movement makes his head pound, his fever is back and it's very high.
"Colonel's orders," Veronica snaps, stepping between Neteyam and the soldiers, not at all intimidated by their posturing. "Now get out of here before you get him even more sick than he already is."
"I don't feel good, doc," one of the other men say, voice teasing. "Can't you help us too?"
"No, go to the other side. This is for Avatar patients. The other side is for, you know, human patients? Whoever is on duty over there is no doubt capable enough to deal with whatever it is that ails you, Michaels."
"Aw, come on, Doctor Reinhouse," One of the soldiers says playfully.
"No, I'm done entertaining this," Veronica says, annoyed. She crosses her arms over her chest and leans heavily on one hip. "Go. Get out of here."
Neteyam rubs at his eyes, furrowing his brow as another wave of heat washes over him. He furrows his brows more, rubbing at his aching chest. He's been coughing so much these last few days that just breathing too deeply hurts.
The soldier in the front, closest to Veronica, holds out his hands, smiling coyly and taking a few, appeasing steps back. He murmurs something to the other men and they all back out, looking back at Neteyam with this look that makes the little boy shiver, pulling his tail up to his chest in fear. The man spares him one last hard look before heading out of the room, the others following after.
"Are they coming back soon..?" He asks in Na'vi. Daddy hasn't said that Miss Veronica can know about him understanding English, so he doesn't attempt it.
He's talking about daddy and Blue Team, but Neteyam can't call him that. Daddy doesn't want the Sky People to know. Neteyam doesn't know why, but he doesn't ask either. Neteyam doesn't trust them too, so there is no need to understand more. Daddy and Blue Team are the only people he trusts. And maybe Miss Veronica too. But not as much as Daddy and Blue Team, of course.
Veronica waits a beat or two after the door whooshes shut behind them before she turns to look at him, her hard expression morphing into something marginally softer as she makes her way over to him. Her eyes flicker up to the machine monitoring his vitals with a frown before lowering to a sit at the edge of the bed.
"Soon, Neteyam. Give it just a few more days, I think." Her eyes scan his vitals, frown pulling harder at the corners of her lips. She scratches at her graying hair, lips pressing tightly together. "I'll get you some more fluids, okay? Something to cool you down."
Neteyam doesn't argue, too weak for it. "Potty?" He asks first, not wanting to have to wake up to a full bladder again.
Veronica smiles, nodding. "Sure, sweetheart, come on. Let's get you up."
Neteyam spends all of the next day vomiting like crazy before whatever was in his system had finally worked its way out and finally, after over four days, he's on the mend once more. Through those last few days, plenty of Avatar came through seeking medical attention and any time anyone other than Neteyam and Veronica was in the room, the privacy curtain was pulled over him to safeguard him from the eyes of others. That didn't stop anyone from asking about him. His cough awfully distinct and youthful in a place that is strictly adults. He stands out - a lot.
People ask about him, and there are whispers from the medical staff, but only Veronica and her aid, a man about twenty years younger than her named Frankie, wouldn't utter a word about him. Everyone else whispered, some even pulled the curtain back to look at him, but he ignored them all, either pretending to be asleep, dozing enough to fall asleep, or master the art of the glassy-eyed stare. He's gotten really good at keeping a blank expression, as if he doesn't understand their words. But he does. He's understanding more and more.
They talk about scary things. They talk about scooping out his eyeballs. They talk about removing his guts. About stringing him up on "display" to "make a statement". They talk about hurting him. "Recording" it and sending it to Toruk Makto. They hate him. Toruk Makto, but also Neteyam. They hate him enough to want to hurt him. And Neteyam is scared that they will. That they were take the opportunity of Daddy and Blue Team being away to come after him.
Some nights, when the automatic light goes off because it's been so long since someone has moved in front of the sensor, Neteyam will slide out from under his sheets and curl up under the bed with a blanket wrapped around him in terror, jumping at the shadows that loom over him. Luckily the times that happens is rare, as Veronica and Frankie usually come to see him regularly if they aren't just there with him.
The nightmares make it hard to rest, despite him spending most of the five days sleeping while trying to overcome the cold he caught from who knows who. He's barely eaten more than two or three meals the last five days, his nausea preventing him from holding anything down. He's been sustaining himself on IVs that Veronica provides. In the times when he just can't seem to sleep, he works on some items trying to find inspiration but can't, and then he's fallen asleep to a few movies playing on a little player that Lyle let him burrow that he only found after digging around at the bottom of the bag that daddy packed for him.
Neteyam made sure they were all dubbed over to Na'vi so that he didn't have to use an ounce of brainpower to follow along with English and no one would suspect that he could understand. There was a lot of videos that his daddy deemed, "acceptable" for the rare times that Neteyam is allowed screen time, which he didn't mind. He was much more of an outdoorsy person, and while screens were okay for a little bit, he wasn't interested in rotting in front of one for hours on end. Plus, most movies and tv shows just put him to sleep.
So, it ended up working out for him.
After that day of vomiting, Neteyam woke up fatigued and weak, but feeling better than he has in days. Finally, his fever feels like it's gone, and his breathing is marginally easier. He takes stock of himself as he comes to, listening to the quite hum of the medical bay when a sound catches his ear. Neteyam tenses, opening his eye to peer over at the white curtain, surprised to see that it's open and a woman is standing there. She's unfamiliar to Neteyam, but her expression is stern.
As is the Avatar soldier, a man with the name Johnson, embroidered on the side of his chest.
"Good morning," the woman says, her Na'vi stiff.
Neteyam tenses up more, eyes flickering around for Veronica or Frankie.
"They aren't here," the woman says, as if able to read his mind. "Come, Neteyam. Your vitals have been stable enough for long enough that you can come with me now."
Neteyam swallows thickly, his throat dry as he nods. "Where...?"
"We're going to meet someone," she says, waving her hand for him to sit up. He obeys, pulling the warm covers away from his frame and immediately shivering at the cold. either the woman doesn't notice or doesn't care, as she moves over to the metal pole holding up his half full IV bag and gestures again for him to hurry up. "The General has wanted this meeting since Colonel Quaritch left but you've been too unstable. Now come."
Wait, what? What does that mean? The scary lady was waiting for daddy to leave? Why?
Neteyam sucks in a breath at the cold floor touching his bare feet, but he was definitely not going to ask anyone to carry him. He wraps little arms around himself and lethargically follows along as the woman leads him from the safety of his curtain to the big room beyond. She stops pushing the pole along only to grab a refill for his air and changing it out for him from where it's also hanging off the pole.
Neteyam trembles, both from the cold and in fear as he follows after the lady, trying not to look at the soldier behind him, or his gun.
The light reflects off the woman's mask as she turns to glance back at him, tsking every time he slows down too much, prompting him to hustle a bit to close the gap between them. Neteyam feels like the nerves will make him sick again as they take too many twists and turns for Neteyam to track. He's never been to this part of the facility, he doesn't think, and if he has, he doesn't remember going this way.
He's so turned around by the time they stop outside of a room. The Avatar posts up on one side of the door while the woman holds up the card around her neck and it makes the door open with a hiss.
"Go," she says, moving the pole over for him to push himself. Neteyam hesitates, big golden eyes glossy with fear as he peaks into the room, seeing that it's relatively decently sized, about as large as the room he shares with his daddy, yet all he can see is the edge of a large, metal table and all white walls and flooring. "Go," the woman says again, her voice edging on impatient.
Neteyam flinches, shaking in fear as he moves into the room, dragging the pole with him. The door hisses shut behind him and he yanks his tail around his hips to keep it from being crushed between the two pieces of metal.
An Avatar is sitting at one of the two chairs in the room, staring at him with big golden eyes. He looks tired, worn, as if he hadn't slept in days. He's in tan khakis and a simple black t-shirt too big for his thinner frame. He straightens up at the sight of him, the dark shadows under his eyes emphasized by the shadow cast by his brow under the too bright light hanging from the ceiling.
That face... Neteyam has seen him before... but... he also hasn't. There is something wrong with this man, something... something he can't place.
"Hello," the male says in clear Na'vi, respectfully waving his hand from his forehead to Neteyam, which surprises the boy.
He flinches, like the action could hurt him, but minds his manners and returns the gesture, albeit hesitantly, as he's getting to be out of practice. Blue Team and Daddy don't greet each other this way, so he sometimes forgets to.
The man smiles and it's... nice. Gentle, kind, warm, even. There is a tension to his shoulders though, a way that his fingers tap against the metal of the table, anxiously.
"Won't you sit?" The male says, gesturing to the seat next to him. "Can I talk to you?"
Not sure he has much of a choice otherwise, Neteyam nods and carefully pushes the pole over to the chair and climbs up onto it. It was built for Na'vi - or Avatars, he supposed - but it was still a little too big for him. The male reaches out to help Neteyam, but thankfully doesn't touch him as Neteyam manages to get into the seat all on his own.
"I was told... that you don't feel so good," the man says, eyeing the IV and the breathing mask.
Neteyam nods, not sure what else to say to that.
The man licks his lips, nervously. He glances over at a wall with a mirror on it, his tail flicking behind him. The action puts Neteyam on edge, his ears pulling back as his tail wraps tighter around his hips.
"Scary?" Neteyam whispers, pointing at the mirror, not sure why but the man seemed nervous when he looked at it.
The man smiles again, but this time it's more strained, more nervous. "A little bit," the man admits softly, somehow surprising Neteyam. For some reason... he hadn't expected that. His surprise must have shown for the man's smile loosens a touch. "You're okay. You don't have to be worried. They're here for me, not you."
He's not sure who "they" are, but now he's even more frightened.
Neteyam shivers, both from the chill of this room and from fear. The man notices, frowning. He eyes the bumps appearing up and down Neteyam's arms and legs, compassion twisting his features.
"I can't believe they didn't let you bring a blanket or something," he says, a touch of anger to his voice. "Especially since you're getting over a cold." He looks over at the mirror. "Can we have a blanket for him, please? This room is freezing and he's sick."
No response, but the man smiles at him, reaching out to carefully run his hands up and down Neteyam's arms, using the friction to warm him up. Neteyam is too thankful for the warmth to care too much about the touch.
"While we wait for that," the man says," how about we talk?"
Another failure, not a lick of Jake Sully in sight. At least, not where Quaritch and his men were investigating on what could only be more piss-poor intel. Especially since they were on the complete opposite side of the forest from the attack Jake Sully had initiated while they were out there, and no one thought to call them back in was immediately suspicious to Quaritch. The attack commenced almost as soon as the samsons that deposited them in the forest flew off. And no one said a goddamned word to him or his men.
He did manage to catch wind that there were epitaphs in the forest of what looked like the effigies of the great leonopteryx. But they were covered in blood. No idea what kind, but some were old enough for the blood to be faded into a grayish brown color while others were much fresher. They were all over that section of the forest. In the four days that they scouted around, there had to be a little over a half dozen of them.
Maria called it. Someone is not happy with Jake Sully. Seems like he makes friends everywhere he goes.
Quaritch spent that entire time they were away worrying about Neteyam. He looked so pale, so frail when he was forced to leave him behind. He knew that there was no way Neteyam could come with them, but it left him feeling awful leaving the little boy behind. He's not sure how Neteyam got sick, but Blue Team is always really careful around him. If someone is out and about in the base, they come back and shower before they can interact with Neteyam. He gets sick way too easily for them to not be careful. Maybe someone slipped up? No doubt it was an accident, but still.
Something about it doesn't settle well with him.
Once Quaritch reported in for the seventeenth time that there was no hide nor hair of Jake Sully or the Omatikaya, he was finally given the coordinates for their evac site. Ardmore made mention that she would meet Blue Team once they made it back to Bridgehead.
Now that was suspicion number two.
What was Ardmore going to say to them? Was it about their "failure" again? Seeing as they keep having to go on these hunts with both arms tied behind their backs and expected to give some good results. Ridiculous.
Still, Blue Team trudged their way to the evac site, exhausted and annoyed. And that was before they were informed about Jake Sully's attack on a caravan bringing supplies to a new base to the north of Bridgehead as soon as they stepped off the samsons. Then Quaritch got to sit there and listen to them bitch all the way back to Bridgehead. All the while he just wanted to get the debrief done with and go see to Neteyam.
He missed his boy and wanted to make sure he was okay. This cold snuck up on all of them, and it looked pretty bad when Quaritch left. And he hated leaving Neteyam like that. He'll find a way to make it up to him.
Once they arrived at Bridgehead, Ardmore is waiting for them, as she said she would. Quaritch and his men go to respectfully greet her, despite the taste of ash in his mouth. It was her. She was the one that made it so that they didn't know about the attack. He just knows it. But what he doesn't know, is why. Why keep them out there on a wild goose chase?
He can't ignore the sinking feeling in his gut.
"General," Quaritch says, but way of greeting. He and his men salute to her, yet he senses the unease of his men. They are all tired, annoyed, and she is the focal point of their ire. Like him, they blame her for being out there so long searching for something they had little to no hope - and honestly, no reason to believe - that there was anything out there for them.
"Hello, Colonel," she says curtly, then nods to Blue Team. "Let's go." With that, she turns on her heel and heads for one of the entrances to Bridgehead on the Avatar side of the complex.
"Alright, head on out now," Quaritch says to Blue Team. And go see to Neteyam, goes unsaid.
Maria nods, eagerly, when Ardmore throws out, barely glancing over her shoulder. "Belay that, Colonel. They should come along for this. Best to get it all out in the open right away."
Quaritch tenses, feeling his lip curl before he can help it. Thankfully, with her back turned, she doesn't see. Or if she does, she ignores it.
"Very well," he says mildly, feeling like he has to fill the silence.
Blue Team shares uncomfortable looks behind him, while he shares a look with Lyle, catching his deep frown mimicked on the face of his second-in-command and closest friend. He doesn't like this either.
She doesn't say another word as she leads them through the facility. Her posture sure and even as they turn down this hallway and that. Blue Team trudges along, managing to keep professional even after spending the last four days fighting for their lives from one horror of the forest to another. Prager and Mansk got some pretty gnarly cuts from not the one, but the two packs of viperwolves that fell upon them in the four unlucky days they were out there that will need looking after and Ja's limp isn't much better, but none of them complain. Best to get this over with so that they can all leave.
As they draw closer to what Quaritch assumes is their ultimate destination, Ardmore glances over her shoulder at them, as if just now realizing they were still following her. Her expression remains smooth as she says, "I'll need to introduce you all to one of the newest members of Blue Team, effective immediately."
Quaritch tenses, feeling it zip down the line to all his men in turn. Somehow, his steps remain even as he says, "Oh? And who might that be?"
"Another Recombinant," she says, voice still even. "But he's a scientist. He'll be handling the more... delicate matters in that regard. He's a Na'vi expert and will be able to assist you on your missions going forward. He'll be an invaluable asset to your team."
Quaritch feels his team bristle behind him at her words, but his expression doesn't falter. He stops when she does, and asks, when she turns to look at him, "And... who, may I ask, is this man?"
Ardmore studies his expression of a moment, then she smiles and it's sharp enough to cut through steel. "Well, you can see for yourself. He's in there, talking with your pet." And with a gesture of her hand, he realizes that they are standing outside of an observation room.
His hackles rise, but he hides it behind an intentionally large shift as he moves his weight from one hip to the other. Inside the room they are standing outside of would be a one-way mirror looking into another room. An interrogation room. Quaritch spares a glance down the hall to see the door leading into the room their observing with an Avatar standing there, armed with a rifle he seriously wouldn't need when handling a six-year-old boy.
She called him a pet. Quaritch had to fight the literal urge not to smash her face into the nearby wall. Instead, not trusting himself or his men not to react, he moves past her and into the room. Standing there, alone, picking roughly at her nails so much so that Quaritch can scent a bit of blood, is Veronica.
She looks at him and Blue Team as they shuffle in, saying, "I had no idea. I was done for the day and Frankie came to get me. I came as soon as I could."
Quaritch tries not to glare daggers through her, knowing, realistically, that this was Ardmore's doing and that she wouldn't have been able to prevent this any more than he could have. But the bitterness builds like bile in the back of his throat as he turns to look inside the room through the one-way mirror.
Neteyam is there, looking impossibly small and pale in that too big chair. His mask is in place and his eyes are wide in terror. He's shaking so hard his teeth chatter while staring at the man in front of him. He looks okay, but definitely exhausted and weak, if the way he's slouching with his knees pulled up to his chest is anything to go by. But he's not harmed. Quaritch has to accept the small victories.
"Can we have a blanket for him, please? This room is freezing and he's sick."
Quaritch's eyes turn to the man, his voice achingly familiar. And when he turns to look right at the one-way mirror, Quaritch's blood runs cold. Someone gasps, while someone else curses under their breath as the man who turns to them, demanding a blanket for Miles Quaritch's son reveals himself to be none other than Jake Sully.