Author's Note: Another one for you!
It was a mess. It was all a mess.
The clans were growing restless. Some of them were blaming the Omatikaya for the attack by the Sky People. That had the Omatikaya, not decades before, turned away the hand of the Sky People, killed them before their infestation grew out of control, that they wouldn't be in the situation that they were in. They believe that the Sky People wouldn't have been able to do the damage that they had if the Omatikaya had destroyed them when they first appeared. Maybe they're right, but also, there is a very good chance that the Omatikaya would have been destroyed first.
But no one really cares about that. They don't care to see it as the Omtikaya's victory very well could stem from the fact that Jake was there to help lead the clans to war - as Toruk Makto. Time, understanding, experience, all these things assisted them. But once again, no one really cares about that. The only they really care about was that the Omatikaya met with the Sky People first. To them, that's all that matters. They should have known that there would never be peace. They should have done everything in their power to destroy them.
Not the Na'vi of the forest, no. Just the Omatikaya. It was all on their shoulders, whether they wanted it to be or not.
And just like the Sky People were the problem, so too was the enigmatic Jake Sully.
And they hated him. Toruk Makto who was still a Sky Person to them. A stranger playing Na'vi in a body artificially made. Not all clans, though. Most that fought with them to drive the Sky People away still stood in defense of Jake and his people. Those same fifteen clans still stood as a united front. But those that didn't? Those that turned their back on the problem seem to be the source of a new headache.
And it was them that struck out against him. Against his clan. Against his family. And just as they saw him, and the Sky People, as the source of all the wrongs in their lives, in a way, so too did he see them the same way. They ruined his life.
Night before the Recom assault:
Jake rubs at his forehead, sending a withering look around the room full of elders, advising him on the situation in the forest. It was late into the night and Jake was exhausted from many long, busy days and sleepless nights. Neteyam has been sick for the last few days, and he's been pushing back this meeting over and over again for him, but Neteyam's fever finally broke and he had his first small meal in days almost two hours ago and the elders were still willing to have this meeting despite how late into the night it was. Most of the clan was already heading off on their final night patrols and would be getting ready for bed soon. But not Jake. Nope, he's still got a few hours of work ahead of him.
He hadn't wanted this. He hadn't wanted to be Olo'eyktan. He was content to just be one of the Omatikaya, mated with Neytiri, and able to look after their children as one of the hunters. But no. Instead, he's here, where Tsu'tey should be. In a room full of people who also wish Tsu'tey was there. He was the one that they wanted, but they got Jake instead.
Mo'at meets his gaze with a frown. She very subtly shakes her head at him, eyes dark in warning. As if he could simply will away his exhaustion with her permission alone. Knowing it's impossible, he simply lets his shoulders sag a little bit and try not to focus on the pulsing headache behind his eyes.
"We have to show strength, Toruk Makto," one of the elders says, drawing Jake's eyes to them. "Show the other clans that the Omatikaya are strong."
"By doing what? Fighting? And what about a steady hand?" Jake asks, narrowing his eyes. "I don't see the need to go out and start a bigger mess by fighting when it's not necessary. We don't have anything to prove. If the other clans have something to say, then they can come to speak to me about it."
The elders all share looks between each other. Some inspired, some frowning, others... unconvinced.
Jake glances over to Neytiri sitting beside her mother, shaking her own head with a frown on her lips. She's just as exhausted as he is, her shoulders pulled together, her face tired - they both spent the last few days tending to Neteyam as best they could, thankfully having Mo'at there to assist, as well as dealing with Kiri and Lo'ak. But he can see it in her eyes, on her face, she's ready for this day to end. She came with him for this meeting in a show of strength between them, and as Tsakarem, but they were worn out and needed to get some rest before the next long day arrives.
He really should have held out for tomorrow. What had he been thinking?
Both women stare back at him, offering their support. Even the Tsahik seems tired. With all the help she's offered, how could she not be? But still as poised and powerful as always. A true inspiration and Jake is lucky to have her at his side, especially now. With the sudden passing of Eytukan and the even more sudden passing of Tsu'tey, even now, after years, people are still trying to adjust. Trying to figure out how Jake is going to rule them.
Mo'at sucks in a slow, deep breath that he carefully mimics, holding it for five beats, before letting it go, which he does too. As inconspicuously as possible. Even now she's still looking out for him, being sure to keep offering her assistance to him. Her unwavering support.
He's very, very lucky to have her.
"Chief," another of the elders cuts in, drawing his eyes to him. "We need to think about the future of the Omatikaya. It's not just about fighting for fighting's sake. It's about -"
"Chief," a voice draws all of their eyes toward the entrance to the hut to see a young woman standing there. She was one of Mo'at's aids. She had been left in charge of the children. "I'm sorry to interrupt," she says, glancing around at all of them nervously. She turns her eyes to Jake, rolling her shoulders back. "Chief, Neteyam is sick again. I'm sorry. I've been trying to bring his fever down for a while now but it's not working. I need the Tsahik. I don't know what else to do."
The elders all glance at one another in exasperation as Mo'at and Neytiri both climb to their feet and go to follow after her.
Jake opens his mouth nearly up onto his feet to come with them, but Mo'at pins him in place with a look. "I will look to him. The temperature dropped sharply today, it's probably another cold."
But his fever just broke! They've been so careful...
"This is true," an elder says, waving for him to lower back down to their level. "Neteyam is very delicate, Toruk Makto. Let the Tsahik see to him. We really should try to figure out how we are going to ensure the safety of our clan and our future."
Jake's jaws snap shut, staring at the elder when others jump in in affirmation, motioning him to sit and keep talking to them. Jake opens his mouth, carefully, looking up at the entrance to the hut, seeing Neytiri, the aide, and Mo'at disappear out of it to see to his son. He must have been staring for a long time, trying to find some way to tell these old men and women that he wanted to be with his son, but he's walked out on so many meetings to be with Neteyam that he knows it has worn down on his relationship with the elders of the clan.
These people, who were hand-picked by Eytukan and Mo'at for their wisdom and experience to offer some guidance to them in matters of importance, have little faith in him as a leader. And he's trying to do his best to do right by the Omatikaya. To live up to the example that both Eytukan and Tsu'tey left for him. Both were heralded as great leaders, despite Tsu'tey's reign being very short. He had been raised to be Olo'eyktan since he was a little boy, and he spent his entire life setting the clan's expectation for what a good leader he was going to be.
And his reign has been unbearably short. And wrought with the very war that took his life and that of the Olo'eyktan before him.
The elders were thankful enough for Toruk Makto, but they wanted Tsu'tey. They had been preparing for his reign over the Omatikaya, yet they got Jake instead. Jake who wasn't as stringent as Tsu'tey. As singularly focused on the clan like Tsu'tey was. And in some ways, it wasn't fair. Jake had more than just the clan to think about. He had his friends in the humans who needed him. Neytiri, his mate, who needed him. His children! They needed him more than any. Lo'ak was so young, and a troublemaker already, Kiri was prone to just wandering off without a word, and Neteyam's immune system made it impossible for them to take any risks. Chasing the three of them around was a more hectic and time-consuming job than being the clan leader was.
He was so much more than just the Olo'eyktan to the Omatikaya, but no one wanted to see that. No one wanted to acknowledge that he had to focus on other things too. Except for Mo'at and Neytiri, but that was understandable. They were his family.
But this was his fault. He started this meeting, he should see it through, that way he can go relieve Neytiri and see to Neteyam and just pray that Mo'at is able to break his fever again and they can all get a good night's rest for the first time in days.
The morning of the Recom assault:
Neytiri is exhausted but the adrenaline seems to be keeping her as alert as possible. Neteyam spent the entire night crying, which is extremely unlike him, even when he's sick. Jake kept offering to stay up, only succeeding once to give Neytiri a break but she only slept for an hour as Neteyam just cried himself hoarse. Dawn is approaching, cresting over the horizon and Jake feels like a zombie, trying everything he can think of to help his ailing son, yet nothing is working.
Nothing would sooth him, which was increasingly more distressing. He was too overcome with fever, too upset, he wasn't able to articulate what more was wrong other than he was unwell. He would intermittently pass out from exhaustion and Jake hated himself for not just telling the elders to shove off earlier int eh night when Neteyam's fever came back with obvious vengeance.
Something was wrong with Neteyam, he could feel it. But his baby wasn't able to tell him more. Just sobbing, "daddy, daddy, daddy" over and over again. Sweating profusely, overheating despite everything Jake and Neytiri did to try and break his fever after all of Mo'at's immediate ideas failed and she had to return to her hut to get a bit of quiet to think. He would exhaust himself, passing out, only to wake up a few minutes later, burning hotter still.
This was so much worse than any of his colds before. Neytiri woke again after barely over an hour, unable to sleep knowing their son was still so unwell. Nothing they did would help bring the fever down. Nothing they did helped at all. His tummy hurt, his head hurt, his fever burned him from the inside out. His throat was raw from coughing and crying. He couldn't breathe.
It was scary. Jake has no idea what is wrong and because of that, he can't help his son. He can do nothing as another broken sob leave the small boy in his mom's arms, eyes rolling up into his head again in exhaustion. The only time during this whole night in which there is even a moment of silence. But even then, Neytiri's face is streaked with tears, both frustrated and scared. This is the worst it's ever been, and they have no idea why.
Jake's about to break down and call Norm and Max. They were always his last resort, because he knew how much Neytiri and Mo'at didn't like their medicines. Didn't like their machines, their practices. But he was desperate, and Neytiri might just be desperate enough to agree to whatever help they can provide.
He opens his mouth but before even a breath could pass his lips, Mo'at came running into their hut. Kiri and Lo'ak were with a friend of Neytiri's so that they weren't kept up all night. Again. A hunter carrying something clenched in her fist was right behind Mo'at, both of their faces pale with horror. Just the look alone made Jake's stomach sink into his toes.
"What's wrong, mother?" Neytiri asks, cradling Neteyam in her arms, exhaustion and alarm flickering over her face. Neteyam wheezes harshly through his mask, laying limp in his mom's arms, another fainting spell upon him.
Mo'at drops down next to Neytiri with a bowl full of crushed leaves and a very faint hint of something unpleasant in the air stabs at Jake's sharp nose as he comes closer.
"Mother?" Neytiri calls, face pinched in fear.
Mo'at removes the mask from Neteyam's face, saying softly, "This will hopefully not cause him to throw up."
Perplexed by that, Jake asks, rubbing roughly at one of his eyes, "And what if he does?"
Neytiri eyes the bowl of crushed leaves wearily as Mo'at says, still softly, grave fear and... rage in her eyes, "Then we have to move quickly."
Before Jake has a chance to ask her what she meant by that, Mo'at waves the bowl under Neteyam's nose and instantly he loses all color, eyes flying open as he launches forward, vomiting harshly all over the floor of the hut in front of him.
Mo'at curses, twisting to look at the female hunter. "Go! Get your party together, you will go with Jake and Neytiri in search of the flower. We have no time to waste. Prepare the ikran!"
"Yes, Tsahik!" The woman passes over the item she's holding and races out.
"What is happening?" Jake demands as Neytiri wipes Neteyam's face as he sobs, wheezing and gasping. He's awake again and unlike the deep, burning flush from earlier, he's pale as a ghost. And so... scarily weak, like he can barely even lift his head.
Mo'at holds up a totem made of sticks and twine and crushed berries, and it smells foul. Enough so that Neytiri recoils, pulling a limp Neteyam close to her chest, baring her teeth at it.
Despite the burning rage in her eyes, Mo'at almost too calmly says, "Someone has poisoned Neteyam, Jake, Neytiri." She pauses just long enough for all the heat to leave Jake's body, taking his exhaustion with it. Neytiri's spine snaps straight, eyes widening in a mixture of disbelief and horror. Mo'at continues, "Go with the hunters. There is a flower that you need to get to before it's too late." She turns her golden eyes toward the opening of the hut, far across the way for the ikran opening in the cave, and the small beams of light that have already started to poke into the cave.
"Mom..." Neytiri rasps, horrified.
"Go," Mo'at says, turning sharp eyes towards them, baring her own fangs. "The hunters will tell you what you need to look for! Go. No more time to lose! Neteyam is running out of time!"
"It was outside of our route," the female hunter who was with Mo'at when they learned about Neteyam's poisoning tells them as their flying through the forest. "The route we were going to take had an unexpected palulukan in our path. We decided to take an alternate way. No one would be going that way until well into the morning. It was an accident that we had found the small totem. But the Great Mother was looking out for us." Despite her words, there is obvious trepidation in her voice as her golden eyes watch the rising sun over the horizon.
They had to find a rare flower in a field that is only partially obscured by trees that is both the source of the poisoning for Neteyam, and his cure? Ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous. And the cure is the spores that it shoots out at first light? How? How were they going to find a rare flower that hasn't yet been touched by the rising sun's light in a field mostly unobscured?
How the hell were they supposed to do this?
Jake looks over at Neytiri as they push their ikran to go as fast as possible, looking down at Neteyam strapped to her to keep him from falling off. His face is white as a sheet, the mask he was wearing only shows small, shallow puffs of air being breathed. He looks so incredible small and weak. Even when he was well, there was always something frail about his eldest son. Kiri and Lo'ak never had any problems. They were always so healthy and strong. When he had the strength and energy, he could chase them around, rough house with them, tickle them until tears streamed down their cheeks.
He couldn't do that with Neteyam. At least not in the same way.
His delicate baby that he has always dealt with as gently as possible was now dying. Poisoned. Poisoned! Who does that? Who poisons a child? He has no idea how it could have happened and when. Then again, he's exhausted, he's been up for almost two days straight at this point, and he's not thinking clearly. He needs to find this flower before the last of them close and their spores are useless to him. Usually they have twenty-four hours, but that's for an adult, a child Neteyam's size? Who already has a compromised immune system?
No. He can't. He can't think about that right now. He's not sure if he's going to be able to hold himself together otherwise.
They spread out, trying to find this flower. It took them almost thirty minutes to locate the first one. It's about the height of Jake's shin, purplish blue in color with vibrant red and yellow splatters of color on the inside of the petals. It has long light blue and green stems inside that spit out the spores before they fold in on themselves and close up for the day. And it was already closed for the day. Racing back and forth for another thirty minutes and all they can find is two more flowers, each of which are already closed. By this point, Neteyam's breathing is shallow, slow, dark rings around his eyes, and he's vomited twice more.
Dying. In slow motion.
They find a flower, still blooming in the shade and Jake lets out a cry of relief, racing back for Neteyam. He rips his son from Neytiri's arms and races back as fast as his arms can carry him, but it's too late. The sun sliced through the trees at their approach and the flower spits out its spores before sealing shut. All while Jake is less than fifteen feet away.
A hoarse cry of exhaustion and helplessness leaves him as he hefts Neteyam higher up in his arms. His baby's body unnervingly light and unmoving. His eyes are open and bloodshot as he stares at nothing, wheezing painfully but not having any energy to cry anymore.
"We can't give up," he rasps at no one, desperate to find another. One was still closed, more have to be. They have to.
Neytiri doubles over behind him, equally as exhausted, looking around frantically despite holding her side. She trudges off into the forest, just as desperate to locate another one. The hunters span out again, searching wildly as the minutes tick on. Jake wanders aimlessly, keeping his head on a swivel while holding Neteyam not wanting to waste another second if they find another.
No, when. When they find another.
He can't. Jake can't lose his son. Not his Neteyam.
"Chief! Here!" A hunter calls. Jake can't even put a face to the voice. All he can do is run toward it, heart pounding in his chest so hard it hurts. The sound of rushing water is all he hears as he draws closer to another hunter, seeing his body hunched over the flower, physically preventing the sunlight from reaching it. Another hunter climbs up into the nearby tree, trying to figure out which leaves to move to catch the beam of light without actually moving it.
Jake lets out a sob of relief, dropping down to his knees in front of the flower, angling Neteyam toward it as the hunter moves away and the other starts pushing around the leaves. Jake watches as the flower's stems reach towards the sky, as if trying to absorb more of the night before it's time for it to close up. It feels like hours tick by as Jake is forced to listen to his son's hoarse rasping for air - especially since he removed his breathing mask in his mad dash to get to the first open flower, having dropped it somewhere behind him. Those gentle rasps are somehow louder than the rushing water beside him, yet all he can do is stare at Neteyam's pale face.
Literally watching the life leach out of his son as his breaths grow greater distance apart from one another. His little chest not lifting as high and the intense burn of the fever searing through his little body.
Then, a beam of light hits the flower at an angle and it's enough. The stems stiffen and shrink incredibly quickly, spores shooting off of the flower in all directions, seemingly from the petals themselves rather than from inside of it. Jake moves Neteyam's face right next to it, praying, "Come on, baby. Come on. Please, God. Please breathe, Neteyam. Come on, baby. Please."
Neytiri drops down to his side, trembling as Neteyam sucks in a slow, ragged breath. The spores immediately take effect. Neteyam coughs, hacking hard enough that he has to sit up, spitting out some yellowish mucus thick enough that it chokes him a few times. But he keeps going, alert enough again to cry while alternating between hacking and coughing.
Jake almost thought that this was it, that somehow, they had failed. That he didn't get his son there in time and he's not sure if he's ever going to stop shaking. But even as helplessness, desperation and dread thrum through him, color starts to return to Neteyam's back. His chalky white skin already darkening again.
Jake manages to haul Neteyam over to the water, just enough for grab handfuls of it and, while cradling his son in the crook of one arm, he gently dumps small handfuls of water down his back, trying to cool down his burning skin. Neteyam hacks a few more times, still sobbing hoarsely, while Neytiri, tears of relief, fear and exhaustion track down her cheeks as she scoops up a handful of water to bring to his lips to drink.
Jake kisses Neteyam's hair, rocking slowly as the little boy drinks greedily, his eyes closed in exhaustion, gripping Jake's bicep tightly with his cheek pressed to it.
"Thank God," Jake rasps.
"Thank you, Great Mother," Neytiri sobs, scooping another handful of water for Neteyam to sip on, his eyes still shut. The hunters gather around, all huffing and puffing from running around, but they share smiles of relief, leaning into each other or kneeling down to catch their breath. Jake is never going to be able to thank them enough for all of their help.
Bringing his other hand forward, he pats at Neteyam's chest softly, rocking back and forth soothingly once Neteyam refuses more water from Neytiri. Neteyam wraps the fingers of both of his hands into Jake's much larger one, gripping all five of them in his eight. Neteyam opens his eyes, for a single moment to stare down at them, before closing his eyes once more, too exhausted to keep them open.
But Jake doesn't mind, nor does Neytiri as she kisses their son's cheek, reaching over to rub his back as she nuzzles Jake.
"We find who did this," she says hoarsely, "and we kill them."
Jake couldn't agree more. He has no idea who did this, and he is not in a state to be able to be thinking coherently enough for that. But once he is well, once he knows without any lingering doubt that Neteyam is going to be okay, he will do just that. He will find out who did this. Find the person, or people responsible for poisoning his son.
And when he does, Jake is going to kill them all.
"There is something nearby I want to give him," Neytiri finally says, moving to stand on shaky legs. "It will settle his stomach and hopefully bring his fever down a bit until we can get back home."
"Someone, go with her, please," Jake rasps, unable to move as he cradles Neteyam close.
"I will go," one of the hunters says. Neytiri casts one more look down at Jake and Neteyam, relief with a heavy weight of lingering fear in her eyes before she turns and heads off, promising to return in a few minutes, then they can go.
Rationally, Jake knows that they can't stay here. The people who poisoned Neteyam no doubt know the cure to it and will know that this is likely the place that they would go to find it, so there is a very good chance that a trap could be laid for them. He hadn't been in his right mind to think about that ahead of time, due to his panic, but now that he's settled and there is still enough adrenaline in his system to help him think straight for a few more minutes, he knows that they have to leave. He'll just bring Neteyam to the ikran and meet Neytiri there so that they can get out of here before trouble shows up.
No sooner had the thought left Jake's mind when the hunter standing next to him flinches as a crack tears through the air and falls over dead, a bullet hole between his eyes. And suddenly they are all moving.
Neteyam jolts awake at the sound, letting out a yelp. Jake jumps to his feet, half carrying, half dragging Neteyam in a run as the rest of the hunters scatter, letting out warning cries as more bullets pepper the ground they were standing on moments before.
"Run!" He yells. He's not sure if it's to the hunters, to Neteyam, or to Neytiri, praying that she is far enough away to have avoided the danger but close enough to know that it's present.
Neteyam stumbles after him, still being half dragged when Jake loses his grip on him and Neteyam falls into the dirt with an "oof!"
"I'm sorry, baby!" Jake rasps harshly rushing back to him. "I'm so sorry, baby."
"Daddy!" Neteyam sobs, rubbing harshly at his eyes as Jake scoops him up off the ground to hold him properly, the sounds of gunfire drawing near. And the sound of the hunters being killed off.
Just as Jake was turning to keep running toward the ikran, a scream of terror from beside him draws his eyes toward a hexapede barreling toward him, her eyes wide in terror with blood free flowing from the bullet hole in her side. It's too late, Jake doesn't have time to move out of the way. Exhausted and sore, Jake's body doesn't obey him fast enough to move out of the way, but just enough for him to drop Neteyam out of her path. Neteyam nearly dislocated his fingers with the death grip he had on them, but Jake couldn't focus on that.
Neteyam cries out in pain again, rubbing at his eyes, blinking furiously as if he can't see, before the full force of the hexapede slams into Jake's side, sending both of them toppling. Jake flips, feet over head twice as she tries desperately to push forward while their limbs tangle together. Something breaks, he's not sure what, and on who, but then he's in the water.
Pain explodes in the side of his head as he struggles to orient himself under the water. The hexapede springboards off of him and scrambles over to the other side, making it only a few more feet before she falls over dead while he spins and twists out of control, being pulled along by the water. He's not sure how far he was dragged along before he manages to find shore, crawling out only a part of the way, vomiting, and looking around. His vision is full of spots, everything is swaying, and his head is throbbing. He can't think. He can't focus. His head is killing him.
Neteyam! He has to... he has to...
He forces himself to pull his too heavy body from the water, muscles weak and lethargic. His entire body aching. His looks around again, trying to orient himself, but the sun is burning his eyes, searing holes straight into his brain.
Neteyam! Neteyam is out there! He has to...
He tries to move, but his vision keeps tilting sideways. He reaches for something to grab hold of, to pull him forward, but it splits in two and slides away from him.
Concussed. He's concussed, he realizes.
But can't be. Not when Neteyam needs him. He has to find him. He has to get him out of there. He has to... he has to...
Jake's body gives out and he falls to the dirt. "Neteyam..." he rasps, voice raw as tears finally slide from his cheek into the mud beneath him. He reaches out, fruitlessly as the twisting forest evades his grasp. Like his son would just appear before him close enough to grab hold of. "Neytiri... Neteyam... Neteyam..." His eyes slip closed, and he blacks out.