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It had only been a few days since they landed in Awa’atlu and started their new life with the Metkayina, but Lo’ak had half a mind to call his ikran and fly back to the forest. He knew that running away from his problems would just disappoint his parents further though. Always the disappointment.
At least Tsireya was a patient teacher, and even when he messed up and she laughed it didn’t feel mean. He couldn’t say the same of her brother and the other boys.
It hadn’t been a particularly bad day, but he was exhausted and frustrated with himself. His siblings seemed fine, Tuk bouncing about their marui as she told their mom about her day. Lo’ak loved his little sister, but he needed space to wallow in his own emotions. So he found himself sitting on the dock outside of the marui, well aware that his family could see him but was choosing to give him time. He was grateful for it, in a way, but he wished that they would come out and confront him. Arguments were easier than uneasy silence and avoided conversations, at least everything was out in the open. Lo’ak knew that Neteyam was the better son, that Kiri was the miracle child and Tuk the baby of the family. The least they could do was say it to his face, rather than criticizing his every move. He knew he did stupid things, but he was trying. He just wanted them to see him.
Inside the marui, Jake listened to Neytiri humming to herself as he finished braiding a section of Tuk’s hair. She had messed up her braids playing with a new friend, and while he was happy for her he knew Neytiri didn’t want their daughter running about the village looking like a wild animal. Neteyam sat nearby, braiding a necklace so Tuk could wear a shell she found. Every few minutes he would look up from the work and glance at Lo’ak, sitting by himself on the dock. Jake found himself checking on the boy as well, seeing the way his son tucked his arms around his knees as though he wanted to take up less space. Finishing with Tuk’s hair, he pressed a kiss to her head before sending her over to where Neytiri was prepping food. He stood and moved to stand by Neteyam, looking out at Lo’ak.
“Did something happen with your brother today?”
“No sir. It was a quiet day. He just… gets into his own head sometimes.”
Jake nodded, for a moment wondering if he should just give Lo’ak some space and try to talk to him in the morning. Neteyam shifted, his brows pinching in worry, and Jake knew that they were finally in a place where these conversations could happen without threat of interruption. He sighed, scrubbing a hand down his face before moving out of the marui. He could see Neteyam open his mouth as though he wanted to say something in protest before thinking better of it.
Jake walked over to the dock, sitting next to his son with his legs hanging over the edge to brush against the water. Lo’ak tensed when Jake sat, shifting his body to angle away from his father.
“Everything alright? You’ve been sitting out here for a while.”
“I’m fine.”
“You sure?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
Jake frowned, suddenly much more worried about what Neteyam meant by “getting into his own head.” All teenagers were moody, that was a universal truth, but this seemed deeper than that.
“What do you mean by that? I’m your dad, you can talk to me.”
Lo’ak scoffed, before realizing what he’d done and hiding his face in his knees.
“I know I’m not the best at emotions, but I do care about you and want to know what’s bothering you.”
Lo’ak shifted to look out over the water again, humming non-commitally in response to his father. He wasn’t quite sure if he believed him anyway. Don’t get him wrong, he knew his parents loved him, but they didn’t always like him or approve of him. The feelings pressing down on him felt too big to speak aloud, like saying them would be a step too far.
“Lo’ak, please. I just want to help you.”
After a moment of hesitation, Lo’ak realized it was now or never. Either he let this out, or it stayed in his chest growing more painful to carry. He took a moment to look at his hands, the representation of all of these feelings. He didn’t know that he was different from his siblings until Tuk was born. He remembered looking at Neteyam holding their new baby sister, her tiny fingers wrapped around one of his. Their hands were the same, just like Mom’s. Yeah, Kiri also had five fingers, but he knew she was adopted. He was the only one who got his dad’s traits, who didn’t look like a real Na’vi. It was all people ever noticed about him, especially here among the Metkayina.
“I just feel like I’m always doing the wrong thing. I know you’d prefer if I was more like Neteyam.”
Jake feels his chest grow heavier, his throat tight. He knew that his younger son was struggling, but he had thought that maybe he would grow out of it.
“My sweet boy.”
Jake pulls his son closer, leaning in even as Lo’ak buries his head into his knees. He places his hand over his son’s, lining up their matching fingers.
“I don’t talk much about my life before meeting your mother. I think I still feel guilty, that I was born one of the people who have caused so much harm. There are parts of my life I never told you kids about.”
He can see Lo’ak’s ears angle toward his voice, curious despite himself. It was true, Jake had avoided the topic beyond a few Earth phrases or gestures, and pointing out the star he came from. Neytiri loved him with all her heart, but the first time he tried to tell a story to baby Neteyam about Earth he could see her shoulders tense and her ears pull back. Even Mo’at, who respected his position in the clan and came to appreciate Jake as a companion to her daughter, would sometimes stare at him just a moment too long, lingering on his eyebrows or hands. It was easier to just let all of it live in the past. Jake could also hear Neteyam’s breath stutter, knowing that the boy was listening in to make sure that the conversation went well and hadn’t expected this topic.
“I wasn’t supposed to come here.”
Lo’ak perks up slightly, his brows pinching together in confusion.
“I had a brother. Tom. We were twins. Not a lot of those among the Na’vi, and none like us. We were identical, started as the same group of cells before we split into two people. Tommy always joked that he took the brains with him in the split. I was ten minutes older than him, and for a long time we were inseparable.” Jake pauses, smiling. He hadn’t really through about his childhood with Tommy in years. “He was the smart one, the kind one. He was such a good kid, but he was shy, and I tried so hard to protect him. He ended up being the one to patch me up after a stupid fight. He graduated early, spent years studying biology and planning to come here. I didn’t know what else to do with myself, I wasn’t good at much. But I was tough, and I could protect people, so I joined the Marines. Then I got shot.”
Jake feels the phantom pain of the wound, remembering the feeling of waking up in a VA hospital unable to move his legs but completely able to feel the agony.
“I was paralyzed, useless, unable to walk. Tom showed up at the hospital. I could see he was upset that I was hurt, but he was also so excited to tell me about the new Avatar program he was recruited for. I wasn’t in a good place, and I yelled at him. Told him to get out, and leave me alone.” Jake looks out over the water again, suddenly realizing it was the same color as his eyes - his brother’s eyes. It was the last time he talked to Tommy before he died, at least in person. Tommy left him messages, but Jake was too stubborn and hurt to return them.
“He trained for three years. Then one day two government agents are standing over me telling me he’s dead. Shot in some alley, over nothing. They wanted me to come instead, and at that point I had nothing else keeping me on Earth.”
Jake realizes that he’s been gently moving his thumb over his son’s hand, subconsciously reminding himself of where he was and who he was with. Lo’ak had leaned closer to him, no longer pretending to not be interested. Behind them, he could hear Neteyam’s quiet breathing as he listened in.
“The first time I saw this body, I told Norm that it looked like Tommy. He said that it looked like me, that it was mine now, and I knew what he meant. We were identical, of course this looked like me, but I knew my brother better than anyone else in the world. This was his dream, not mine. It took a lot of time for this body to really be mine.”
Jake took a moment to breathe in deeply.
“I never thought I’d be a father. Didn’t really care about the idea on Earth. When your mother told me about Neteyam I was so excited, and so scared. Who decided to let a dumbass Marine be a dad, you know? I promised myself that I would take care of him, that I would be the best father for him. I knew your mother was going to be amazing, of course. Everything I knew about myself changed the first time I held him, and Kiri only made that clearer.”
Lo’ak had grown tense again as Jake talked about Neteyam, clearly dreading what came next. Jake felt the wetness in his eyes grow. He had never wanted his son to feel this way.
“I thought I had everything under control when your mother told me about you. But the first time I held you, I started crying.” Lo’ak fully jerked his head back to look at his dad, startled out of his avoidance. Jake rarely cried, it didn’t make any sense.
“Your mother was so confused, she kept asking me what was wrong. The only thing I could think, the only thing I could say was: ‘He looks like me.’”
Lo’ak was stunned. His dad was smiling, even with tears in his eyes. Jake turned to meet his eye, and Lo’ak hadn’t seen that kind of pride and joy turned on him in years.
“Neteyam is your mother’s child, though I always thought he looks like your grandmother. Kiri is all Grace. But you… You look just like me and Tommy. And I thought I’d never be able to see my features on another face again after I lost him.”
Lo’ak couldn’t look his dad in the eyes anymore, choosing to bury his head in his father’s shoulder instead. Jake tightens his arms around his son, taking a breath to beat back the tears.
“You’re my kid. You are so much like me, and that scares the shit out of me. I’ve done a lot of stupid things, kiddo. I’ve screwed up a lot, and I don’t want to see you make the same mistakes and get hurt the way I did. Especially with this war. I can’t lose you, but you have the same impulse I do to run right into trouble and try to survive through sheer force of will. I thought it would keep you all safe if I was Toruk Makto again, if I was a Marine. But I just hurt you in another way. I’ve been too harsh. I’m acting like your commanding officer, not your father. I’m so sorry, baby. I never meant to drive you away, and I’m gonna do better, I promise.”
His son’s shoulders shook slightly as he cried into his father’s chest. Jake kept a tight hold on him, rubbing his back as he took shaky breaths.
“I love that you’re like me. I wouldn’t change you for the world, even if I wish you would be a little less reckless. Honestly kid, I know it’s impossible for Na’vi but you’re gonna give me grey hairs.” Lo’ak laughed shakily, relaxing further into his father’s side. “You are so much better than me, my son. You got so much good from your mother, and I have been so proud to see the man you’re going to become.”
Suddenly, Lo’ak became aware of their height difference. As a kid, your father is a giant. He has big arms and broad shoulders and a deep voice, gentle enough to soothe you and strong enough to carry you around. Sitting here on the dock, Lo’ak realized that while his father was still more than a foot taller than him, his father no longer felt like a giant. His arms were still big where they wrapped around him, and the shoulder he leaned against was broad, but his dad felt far more mortal in the last few weeks than Lo’ak ever wanted to confront. His father shifted to press a kiss to his hair, taking a moment to feel his son’s braids against his cheek.
Jake shifted, turning to look at the entrance to the marui.
“Neteyam, son, can you come here?”
Both Jake and Lo’ak could hear Neteyam startle and drop whatever he was pretending to work on before slinking out of the marui, shoulders drawn tight in guilt over being caught eavesdropping. Jake stretched out his other arm, waiting for Neteyam to sit next to him before wrapping the arm around his eldest and pulling him into his side. Neteyam mirrored his brother, leaning his head against his father’s shoulder.
“I know you were listening, but you deserve to hear this directly. I’m sorry for the way I’ve been acting, and how I’ve treated you. It wasn’t fair, and you deserve better. You are such a good kid, and I see how you take care of your siblings. I should’ve focused on letting you be a kid, not a soldier.”
“It’s okay, Dad. I always understood, and I’m just glad we’re all here and safe.”
“You’re a better man than me, kid. And that’s what scares me. You kids are so good. But so was Tommy. So was Grace, and Trudy, and Tsu’tey. And they’re all dead.”
Jake tightened his arms around his sons, grounding himself in the feeling of their chests expanding as they breathed and the feeling of their hair against his skin.
“I want this to be a new start for us, a chance for all of you to get to be kids for a while. I love you both so much. My boys, my babies.”
Lo’ak squirmed where he was pressed against his father, moving to look at his dad. He pouted slightly. Neyetam laughed at the look on his face.
“We’re not babies.”
“Kiddo, I’m your dad. You’re always gonna be my baby.” Jake smiled, kissing Lo’ak on the forehead before doing the same to Neteyam. They both made a face at him before laughing, moving so he wasn’t clutching them quite so tightly. Jake took a moment to look a Lo’ak, noting that while the tension and insecurity that had plagued his son for over a year wasn’t completely gone, he looked freer and more confident. He thought about Tommy, about the look on his face when he talked about Pandora when they were children. The grief he had pushed down watching his brother being cremated was still sitting somewhere in his chest, but it had changed over the years. Jake took a deep breath, letting everything that had happened since that day wash over him, before dropping his arms from where they rested on his boys.
“Come on, your sister wanted to show you something she made today.”
Jake stood, groaning as he stretched his back. They hadn’t been sittin very long, but it had been a long day.
“Having trouble, old man?” Lo’ak’s voice was amused, light and happy.
“I’ll show you an old man!” Jake moved quickly, hoisting his younger son over one shoulder. Lo’ak sqeaked in protest, causing Neteyam to double over in laughter. Unfortunately, he too was scooped up and thrown over his father’s shoulder, both boys protesting as he carried them back into the marui. Sure, they were far heavier than the last time he had done this, but it was worth it to hear Kiri and Tuk laugh at their brothers and see the look on Neytiri’s face, the stress of the day melting away as she smiled at her boys. Everything could change in the morning, but for now they were alright.