Author's Note: Hello, my loves! Sorry about the long wait! Have a great day! Let me know what you think! Enjoy!
A gentle whimper and a small clinking sound pull Quaritch's eyes open from where he was dozing, still sitting in that same chair beside the little boy's bed. It has only been about an hour since they got to the medical wing, but he hasn't slept a wink since they pulled him from the tube. They got him up and showed him the man - Miles Quaritch - and the video left behind before the battle at the Hallelujah Mountains, and then loaded him and his team onto a ship and sent them hunting for Jake Sully on the word of a ghost and a mad woman.
And even though so much has happened in such a short amount of time, he's exhausted. It feels like he's been operating days without rest. He feels so discombobulated and confused. He hasn't even had time to process his existence. He was made on the off chance - or maybe a wise prediction - that the Na'vi were going to be able to pull themselves together and form a strong enough coalition to be able to hold off against the humans. But they managed it. They took down everything that the RDA could throw at them and they won.
And now Quaritch, as he is now, is a dead man walking once more. But even then, it's not the same. He's not Miles Quaritch back from the dead. He's a being created with Miles Quaritch's memories and DNA. But like Walker said, they aren't actually those people. And while he wasn't going to react or say anything in front of his men - her words messed him up. He wasn't sure he was going to be able to see the boy with all these turbulent feelings spiraling around inside of him, but he sure as hell wasn't going to be getting any sleep after that. And with all the questions about his life, his existence, even his future spinning like a maelstrom, bouncing around in his skull, he knew that his ceiling wasn't going to give him answers.
He had been toeing the line between sleeping and awake this whole time, his body warring with his mind on which was more stubborn with his arms crossed and his chin to his chest when the sound completely pulled him to consciousness. He blinks blearily, trying to organize his thoughts, make sense of the swirling memories of his life - of the life of Miles Quaritch - flashing through his brain. As well as all of the questions of what he's doing and where he's going to go from here.
He looks over at the white sheets that are on too big of a bed to see Sully's young son, staring down at his shackled hand, ears pressed back and skin ashen. Panicked bloodshot golden eyes take in the unfamiliar surroundings, terror and confusion written across his face as he first looks to Lyle, who was staring at him, also having come to, and then to Quaritch.
He says something in a strained, tired little whisper, shaking the cuff around his too small wrist, whimpering softly as if scared to be too loud. Watery eyes look between the two men before reaching out to Quaritch with his free hand.
Lyle wondered briefly if Quaritch would recoil, pull further away from the boy, but he doesn't. At least, not immediately. He just remains frozen for a moment, contemplatively or maybe even hesitantly. There is a shine in Quaritch's eyes, as he wars with himself on what he should do. Hands flexing into fists and relaxing at his sides, as if unsure of what to do with them.
The little boy says something else before looking between them, watery golden eyes wide as he very softly says, "...Daddy..?"
Quaritch recoils this time, as if struck. The little boy has creases form between his eyes as he squints at the light, blinking furiously. He points to his head from where his wrist is shackled by his hip. "Owie..."
"Do you understand us, kid?" Lyle asks, leaning in to pull the boy's attention to him and spare Quaritch of the weight of those watery eyes and the innocence of that word, even if only for a moment.
The little boy looks at him, shivering slightly in his bed as he sinks into it a bit. The screen behind him flashes white and the temperature starts to blink.
The boy shakes his head, as if to clear it. He looks at Lyle again, squinting. He says something in Na'vi, his little wrist rattling the binds. He tries to sniffle, a tear track working down his pale cheek, but he flinches at the action and starts coughing, hunching over as he hacks. He rips the mask off of his face in an attempt to suck in more air, struggling to fill his lungs.
He wheezes, trying to catch his breath as he coughs, blood mixed with spit staining in little drops on the bedding. Lyle opens his mouth when Quaritch leans forward, releasing one shackle, then across the bed to release the other one. Immediately the little boy brings his hand to his mouth to cover it as he coughs while the other presses to his chest as if in pain.
The nurse comes in a moment later, rushing over to them.
"He shouldn't be unshackled," she says immediately, first off.
"Don't worry about that," Quaritch says sharply, sending her a chilled look.
Her dark eyes widen in fear, but she stands her ground, braver than most men that Lyle has ever seen standing up to Quaritch, looking between the shaking boy and the two Recombinants staring at her. "General Ardmore ordered -"
"He's five, there is two of us with military backgrounds measured in the decades between us both," Quaritch says, voice dangerously low. He gestures between himself and Wainfleet, who is also now on his feet. "I think we can handle him."
"But the General -"
"Are you here because he's unshackled or because something is wrong with him?" Quaritch snaps, tail curling behind him in anger behind him. Lyle tenses, not sure what is going to happen next, but he's ready for anything. Instinctively, he knows a threat when he sees one.
Her eyes track the movement, chewing on her lower lip for a moment before giving in and moving over to the side to look at the screen. She sighs, rubbing at her forehead before messing with it and turning to the boy as his coughing subsides and he sinks back into the bed somehow managing to look even paler than before, dark rings under his eyes.
"What's wrong with him?"
"I don't know. It could be some underlying condition, but his fever is back in full force. I'll have the doctor come back and see him. But he won't until the boy is shackled." She glances between the two Recombinants, before turning to address Quaritch, who was the one to speak, "This medicine should bring his fever down, though."
"And the nosebleed?" Lyle asks, crossing his arms over his chest, pulling the nurse's eyes to him. "I've had enough nosebleeds in my life to know they don't go on for this long."
"I'm not sure," she says, glancing wearily at the boy next to her. Despite being a full-grown adult, this five- or six-year-old is only about a foot shorter than her. "The doctor will run more tests when he gets here."
"And when will that be?" Lyle asks, straightening up, looking more and more imposing.
She swallows, glancing between both Recombinants. "I already called for him."
"In the time since you got here?" Quaritch asks, false fascination. "I must need to get my eyes checked."
She swallows again, gripping the tablet to her chest, almost like it could act as a shield. "I called for him a bit ago - "
"Like when his temperature was already elevated?" Quaritch asks, leaning up to his full height now, literally staring down his nose at her. "Seeing as that was over an hour ago, I'm going to suggest that you call for him again."
Something in his voice, despite the words being even and almost helpful in his tone, catches Lyle's attention. He stares at Quaritch's expression. The smile on the other man's face holds a twinge of an ice-cold threat of danger.
The nurse nods, quickly scampering from the room. A few beats after she's gone, both recoms just stand there, staring after her, before a small, wheezing breath pulls the gaze of both men to the little boy, a sheen of sweat across his thin chest. A small dot of red against the star white of the gauze under his nose.
Lyle looks over at Quaritch and very quietly, says, "This kid is going to die here."
"He's a hybrid," the doctor says, looking at his tablet, analyzing whatever stats are there. It was almost a half hour later and the man finally showed up. No rhyme or reason as to what took him so long. He didn't look like he was busy drinking or just rolled out of bed. Nothing to indicate the delay at all, which only seemed to make Quaritch angrier. At least he was efficient and set to work running tests once he did get there. "He was made from an avatar and a full blooded Na'vi. His constitution is weak. There may have been some brain damage - "
"From the torture device he was put in?" Lyle interjects.
"Yes," the doctor, an older, balding man, says without looking up from his tablet. "He was choking on blood that drained to the back of his throat earlier, but he's going to be okay. He seems to have picked up a bug while he's been here so that's why his temperature is high but we're monitoring his vitals to make sure that he's getting enough fluids. He's going to be fine."
Lyle leans back on his hips, arms still crossed over his chest as he frowns at Quaritch, who's staring at the doctor with a hard expression.
"He's only been here a few hours," Lyle says, voice flat. "He caught something in that short amount of time?"
The doctor nods. "Yeah, well, his immune system is weak, definitely defective." He turns even green eyes up at Lyle, looking like he couldn't be more disinterested if he tried. "My colleagues in the science department might want to pick him apart because of the nature of his existence as the only known hybrid, but this kid is going to be spending his entire life in and out of the hospital - or, I guess, whatever would go for one around here. The Pandora equivalent, at least. He's proof that avatar DNA shouldn't mix with Na'vi."
"What do you mean?" Quaritch asks, voice even, eyes half lidded.
"He's measuring in the fortieth percentile for his height, twentieth for weight, in our studies of Na'vi children his age. His hormone levels are all abnormal, which is no doubt helping to play a role in his physical size. To be honest, with how weak his immune system is, he may have been sick before he got here, but being here, amongst aliens to him, certainly hasn't helped and introduced him to a host of bacteria his body isn't ready for."
Both men stare at him perplexed by his words and angry at his tone.
"But he's going to be alright?" Lyle asks, frowning.
The doctor nods. "We'll continue to monitor him for now. We are still running tests to ensure there isn't any other underlying conditions to be aware of, but yeah. This is going to be a super sick kid for probably his whole life. And it's too bad. Lower than average platelet and white blood cell count for a Na'vi recorded for his age. But yeah, this seems to just be a common cold that he's fighting through so he should be able to recover soon enough in a sterile environment like the one he's in now, but I can imagine this is only going to be the beginning for him."
"Shit," Lyle mutters as the doctor turns to walk away.
He drops off the tablet that he had been using onto a nearby station and heads for the door, pausing to look over his shoulder at the two recombinants. "Na'vi have exceptional immune systems," he says, looking between them. "They were able to adapt well to the bacteria that humans brought to their planet exceptionally well. The herd mentality is honestly what has probably kept the kid relatively safe all this time. He wasn't getting too sick because no one around him was." The first flicker of any sort of emotion crosses over his face, and it's pitiable sadness, before he admits, "Humans coming into his life is probably the worst thing to ever happen to this kid." Then the look is gone and so is the doctor.
Lyle curls his lip, saying to the open air. "You have no idea, doc."
Quaritch grunts, rubbing at his forehead. "What are we going to do, Lyle?"
Lyle sighs, shaking his head. "I don't know. Sounds like the kid is going to have rough road ahead no matter what."
There is a long pause before Quaritch looks over at the sleeping boy on the other side of the room, still impossibly small in that bed, but some of his color has returned to him and his fever is down. The gauze on his little nose is switched out and the shackles are back in place, to Quaritch's annoyance, but he wasn't willing to get Ardmore involved for something as trivial as cuffs.
No, that's a ferocious beast he's going to tread carefully around.
Indecision wars across his features as he stares at the small, sleeping face. One moment. Two moments. Three moments, then he straightens his back, turns on his heel and walks away without another word. Lyle watches him go in silence.
Zhang, Ja, Fike, and Walker go from a leisure stroll, none wanting to move too fast or too slow, on their way to the medical wing that moment, only to break into a sprint at the sound of a little boy wailing in fear. The four Recoms make it into the Avatar wing in time to see the little boy scrunched up as small as he can go, hissing and kicking out a leg at a soldier trying to hold him down.
It's early, almost eight a.m. when the four Recombinants couldn't keep sitting around trying to sleep anymore. First Zhang was up, making coffee in their kitchenette area. Nothing too spectacular but privileges not promised to anyone else. Fike was up not too long later, rubbing at his neck, looking miserable but accepted the cup offered to him by Zhang. Walker appeared a few minutes later, claiming the smell woke her up but the ends of her braids were wet from a shower and had sufficient time to dry exposing her lie to no one who would point it out, and Ja came out not long after, hearing their voices just outside his door - as his was closest to the kitchenette.
After a lot of standing around, pretending like there was anything else they could talk about aside from regular pleasantries, they all just sort of cleaned up their messes and headed to the dividing room that separates the two separate spaces within the Bridgehead facilities.
That little wail seemed to snap them all into reality.
"What the hell is going on?" Fike snaps, looking around the room of a single doctor, a few nurses and two soldiers all encircling the bed and the terrified little boy shaking like a leaf in the center of it, trying to keep himself away from all of them.
Those wide golden eyes turn to Fike and they spark in recognition, tears streaming down his face as he rattles the restraints on his wrists as he tries to reach out to him, sobbing in terror.
The youngest member of the Recoms is by the boy in a flash, putting his body between the boy and the nearest soldier, who immediately backs up, intimidated. He glares down at the man, who holds up his hands in surrender while the other soldier looks at him incredulously from the other side.
"Johnson," the other guy says, glaring.
The one in front of Fike sends him a glare in return, lips pressed tight in anger but he doesn't say anything.
"What's going on?" Walker asks, making her way over to the sobbing boy on the other side.
"We were called in because the local is being unruly," the soldier in front of Fike says while the one in front of Walker is glaring daggers up at her, as if disgusted by her presence. She barely spares him a glance.
"The 'local'?" Zhang mutters, rolling his eyes behind his shades to Ja right next to him. "Nice."
"Yeah..."
"He's a baby," Fike snaps, looking around the room. "He's not being unruly, he's scared. He's away from his home, surrounded by strangers poking and prodding him. Forgive him for being uncooperative while shackled to a bed by aliens."
As Fike dissolves into an argument with the soldiers and nurses, the doctor, an older woman with graying hair pulled into a ponytail at the nape of her neck, sighs, rubbing at her forehead, while Walker turns to the boy, kneeling down to be closer to eye level with him.
"Look at me, baby blue," Walker says, reaching out to place a hand on his thin arm.
The little boy sniffles, the gauze gone from beneath his nose, but there is the hint of dried blood around his nostril. His watery eyes spill tears down his cheeks as he softly says something to her, face scrunched up in fear. He rattles the restraints trying to reach out to her, wet lashes fluttering as he tries not to sob, his entire body shaking. A shuttering breath escapes him as he keeps trying to say something to her through choked sobs that he's fighting.
"Sempu," the boy says. He babbles something else, then, "Sempu. Sempul."
Walker nods slowly, carefully releasing the restraints, ignoring the protests behind her as she carefully pulls him into her arms. He pulls out the wires in his arms and wraps his arms and legs around her. He presses his face into the curve of her neck, the plastic of his burrowed atmos mask digging into her skin, but she doesn't deny him the comfort he's seeking. He locks his ankles around her waist and his arms around her neck, his long, thin tail wrapping around her right arm, the fuzzy tip tapping at her bicep, anxiously.
"Alright, baby blue, you're okay," Walker says calmly, petting down the stripes of his back, his upper back length braided hair being pushed away from her face. She turns back towards the gathered humans. "What do you want from him?"
"We need to run more tests," one of the male nurses says.
"I think that's enough tests for now," Zhang says before anyone else can speak up.
"Zhang?" Ja murmurs, tail flicking behind him as he glances as the older man.
Zhang nods towards the door. "We'll take him with us for now."
"You can't just - " the soldier in front of Walker starts.
"Watch us," Fike snaps, glaring down at him. "General Ardmore gave him to the First Recom, so unless his life is in danger, he's coming with us. Any questions or concerns can be brought up with Colonel Quaritch."
Walker makes her way toward the door, still holding onto the boy, tightly shaking in her arms, the slight scent of blood coming out of the small holes in his arms in light trickles. She barely bothers to look at the soldier in front of her as she goes, forcing him to move aside and out of her way.
As they make their way back down the hall the way that they came, Walker says, carefully to the three men following after her, Zhang being the last to leave to ensure that no one followed them, "I'm pretty sure the Colonel is going to kill us for this."
No one argued. No one disagreed.
Quaritch is pulled from his restless sleep to the sound of talking in the commons area of their barracks. It's just past nine thirty - much later than he, or perhaps the real Miles Quaritch - has slept in for a very long time. Not sleeping much at all since they were pulled out of cryo probably didn't help. He's going to have to get back into a manageable schedule.
He's not sure what he expected, stepping out into the open commons, but Fike and Ja are sitting on either side of Walker, laughing and joking and poking fun while she's working on the small body sitting cross-legged in front of her wasn't it. Her medical kit is at her side and she's wiping away at his face, smiling at whatever it is that Fike is laughing at. He throws his voice and the little boy giggles, ears pressing back.
Quaritch rounds them a bit to see that Walker was delicately wiping away flakes of blood around his nose, as bright golden eyes flicker between Fike and Ja. Gauze is wrapped around his elbows and the back of his left hand, where Quaritch remembers the boy used to be hooked up to machines when he last saw him. He grips his feet rocking back and forth a bit as he lets out a little laugh, golden eyes turning to Fike at his funny voice.
"I don't remember agreeing to a new member of the First Recom. Recruiting a little young, are we?" Quaritch drawls, crossing his arms over his chest as four sets of eyes fly over to him.
The little boy's ears perk at the sight of him, and he pops up onto his feet and races over to Quaritch, stepping around Ja as he does. He presses his little chin into Quaritch's hip, bouncing a bit on his tippy toes, stretching his hands up to touch the tips of his fingers onto the bottom of Quaritch's crossed arms. Quaritch leans over a bit to stare down into those big eyes from over waggling fingers and his own arms.
Quaritch is warring with himself again, eyes narrowing slightly in confliction. He pays no mind to the three sitting on the floor watching him, silently.
He should hate this boy. He should at least be completely indifferent towards him. This kid has only been in his life for less than a day so it should be easy to turn up his nose and walk away. It should be easy to see this boy as an extension of Jake Sully and do what has to be done. Use the kid to lure in Sully. Let the kid go free in the forest to trick Sully or see if the kid can lead them back to the new Hometree. Hell, see if survival of the fittest applies to the Na'vi out here as well. If the forest eats the boy alive, Quaritch shouldn't care one bit.
But in his mind's eye, all he can see is that tiny little bundle in Paz's arms. His son, to whom he has no idea what ever happened to him. The only one that might have any answers, is Sully.
God smiles on Quaritch with good fortune by giving him all the incentive he needs to ensure Sully's honesty about his son.
"Sempu?" The little boy says, blinking those large golden eyes, open and honest staring up at him without fear. Without anger or disgust. So pretty. So gently, little fingers running blunt nails against his arm. His voice is so soft, so airy. So innocent.
And a piece of Quaritch breaks.
What if Miles is gone? What if he was sent back to Earth and Quaritch never gets to see him again? What if he's dead? What if the moment they learned who he was, Sully and that wild woman killed him? What if they abandoned him in the forest as a baby and he was eaten instead?
What if he isn't, a dark little voice whispers. What if he's out there, alive? What if he's been brainwashed by Sully to use against him? Never mind how Sully could ever know about him possibly coming back. What if it was just in spite that ended up working miraculously well?
What if Miles is alive, but hates him? Is spun enough lies that he'll never accept Quaritch?
But... but he's not Miles Quaritch. Not... well, not the man that sired Miles Jr, at least. Biologically, there is barely any part of them that is connected. What tiny threads of the real Miles Quaritch's DNA that is in him is the only thing that connects them. And the memories, the desire for this boy that exists only as a tiny bundle in Paz's arms - a woman who also only exists in memories now - all comes from how he is interpreting the feelings from said memories.
Does Quaritch really care about a human boy that he technically has never met? For a woman that Miles Quaritch didn't really love, but held the upmost respect for? Is he able to be that person even though technically he's not?
God damn Maria Walker for putting this in his head.
Miles Jr isn't here, but this boy is. This boy isn't afraid of him. This boy is reaching out for him in a way Quaritch isn't sure his only somewhat biological son might ever. Ironic how it would be Sully's own son reaching out for him in the same way that Quaritch had reached out to Sully.
They were kin, in a way. That's what he had told Jake back when they first met. One and the same. He had been referring to the fact that they were both marines, cut from a similar cloth, but... in a way, this was the same.
Because in a way, Quaritch and Sully's son were the same. Two beings that should not be. Both promised a short and painful life that neither really asked for.
Quaritch brought this boy back knowing that Ardmore - by reputation only - was a cruel, shrewd woman. He knew that she would do something horrible to the boy, yet he did nothing to prevent it, telling himself he had to follow orders for the good of humanity. He's not so willing and ready to let go, but Maria's words are still jack hammering away at the inside of his skull, despite what he wants.
He needs to get Sully. He needs to unwrite a wrong. He needs to get revenge. But... but... it shouldn't be about this boy. He knows that it shouldn't. It's not fair. Quaritch wants to demonize Jake Sully, but the reality is, Lyle is probably right. Miles is probably still alive out there - whether it's here or on Earth, because Jake Sully isn't actually a monster. He was a good guy that chose the wrong side. He got too enraptured by the weird alien folk and their pretend forest deity or whatever she was. He lost sight of the big picture and while that makes him a traitorous scumbag, it doesn't make him a monster.
It was wrong of Quaritch to use the boy. Especially because he knows that the boy couldn't give them any information. He was just running on adrenaline and anger at the whole cluster fuck that had happened that he was willing to punish Sully in the only method he was able to accomplish it.
And of course, the kid ends up being a sweetheart. He couldn't be a screaming banshee that made them all want to rip their ears off. He had to be sweet as can be, subdue and docile. Looking up at him with trust in big golden eyes while the mark on his forehead darkens still, discoloring more and more.
It's funny. He lost Miles, yet here is this boy. As close to him as another living being could get. One that looked like him, could actually pass as his son now - at least, more than Miles could. And for some, unexplainable reason, the boy wasn't scared of him. He was reaching up to Quaritch, silently asking to be picked up. This child, who didn't know him twelve hours ago.
No doubt this child still thinks that Quaritch is going to bring him home to his parents. And he should, just to know where they live and begin to plan out their next attack, but this time it's going to be done Quaritch's way. He's going to make sure that everything is laid out to his specifications. No more walking in blind - if he can help it, at least.
And as for the boy... well, Quaritch doesn't want to bring him back.
He wants to hurt Sully in the only way that he can at this point? Well, that's easy. The not knowing might kill him faster than Quaritch can. What happened to his son? Did the boy run off and get lost? Is he still out there waiting for daddy dearest to save him? Does he know that his dad left him behind to die? Did he die? Was he out there scared and alone? Or was he hunted by the local wildlife? Did Quaritch and his men kill him by accident in the assault and they haven't found his body yet? Or maybe it was eaten by a hungry beast in between the two times they were there?
Or maybe this sweet little boy realized that his daddy left him for dead. Who knows? Not Sully. And that is going to have to be enough for now.
So long as Sully suffers, so long as he gets even the smallest taste of how Quaritch has been feeling, then it is going to have to be enough for now. Revenge, though, as the saying goes, is a dish best served cold.
With anger in his heart turning into ice in his veins, Quaritch schools his expression, uncrossing his arms and reaching out for the little boy despite the tightening in his chest. He wants the boy to remain docile. He doesn't want to hurt a kid that looks like he's going to spend the rest of his life in the ring fighting anyway.
Quaritch ignores the way those pretty golden eyes brighten finally at the acknowledgement. How he bounces up and into Quaritch's arms, feeling those large hands wrap beneath his armpits as he's brought up to Quaritch's chest. He ignores how perfectly the little boy fits against him, wrapping around him and hugging him tight, face neatly slotting into the crook of his neck.
And the warmth blossoming in his chest - he ignores that too.