Dedicated to the legends on the discord server they know what they did. Sorry if I miss a few of you (I can't remember your tumblr). @crystalsncryptids @rainxxcloud @tomitoni @cantaloupesoda @eimilynx
Though I think a few of you are going to kick me for this being what I dedicate to you (Lily and e)
What if (y/n) dies instead of Neteyam
Where the hell were her brothers?
The plan had been simple.
She, Si’riya and Payakan would distract them.
Neteyam cuts everyone free.
Easy. Simple. Straightforward.
A plan they had all agreed on… well Neteyam had no choice but to agree,
So why, in Eywa's name, were they never where they were supposed to be?
High above she and Tisoha circled And somewhere inside it were her brothers because she had just watched as Neteyam and Lo’ak run inside.
Her stomach dropped. "Oh, for fuck's sake."
Every second they stayed inside increased the chance that something would go wrong. Every second increased the chance she would lose one of them and she couldn’t bare the thought of it.
The thought made her chest tighten.
Tisoha screeched sensing her frustration and distress but she could feel the ikran’s fear. Don’t let this be our last flight.
The ikran tilted its wings.
The world dropped away. Wind roared in her ears. The ship rushed toward her.
At the last second Tisoha pulled up.
She hit the metal roof hard. Pain shot through her shoulder. She rolled across the slick surface before catching herself and springing back to her feet.
Gunfire echoed somewhere below.
Her heart lurched. That was not random firing.
She broke into a sprint. The deck shook beneath her feet as explosions rattled the vessel. Flames reflected off puddles of seawater. Smoke curled around her as she raced forward.
Another burst of gunfire.
Fear surged through her. She hated that feeling.
Hated how quickly it could consume her.
Because every time she heard them in danger, she was reminded of how easily she could lose them.
How easily they could be taken away.
She dropped to her stomach near the edge of the roof and peered over.
The sight below made her blood run cold.
Several soldiers had taken positions on the deck firing towards a corridor. Weapons raised. Firing relentlessly toward the far end. Toward where she caught glimpses of blue skin.
Pinned down. Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide.
Her heart nearly stopped.
Without thinking, she jumped. A furious scream tore from her throat.
She crashed into them like a storm.
One man barely had time to react before she slammed into him. One of Quaritch’s recoms.
The impact sent him sprawling across the deck.
Another swung his rifle toward her. She grabbed the barrel and yanked. Hard.
The weapon tore free from his hands.
She spun. The stock cracked against his jaw.
The rifle in her hands barked. The recoil slammed into her shoulder.
The soldier stumbled backward and collapsed. The remaining men scattered for cover. Gunfire erupted from every direction. Bullets sparked against metal.
"(Y/N)!" Neteyam's voice.
Relief hit her so hard it almost hurt.
Then anger followed immediately after. Because of course they were alive. Of course they had ignored the plan.
Every single one of them.
"Get the fuck out of here!" she screamed.
This time, they listened.
For a moment she almost didn't believe it.
Neteyam immediately started shoving everyone toward the nearest exit disappearing around the corner.
Lo'ak hesitated for half a second, clearly wanting to argue.
Then he caught her expression and ran.
For one brief, impossible moment, everything else faded.
They were leaving. They were getting out. Safe. They were safe.
A rush of relief crashed through her so suddenly it nearly stole her breath.
They listened. For once, they listened.
Her brothers were getting out. That was all that mattered.
A soldier rushed her from the side.
She followed with a punch that sent him crashing into the railing.
One of the recoms grabbed her arm.
She twisted free. Pain shot through her wrist.She ignored it.
Her stomach dropped. She slammed her forearm into his wrist.
The shot went wild. The pistol skidded across the deck. She kicked him backward.
Someone else fired. Bullets screamed past her head.
One clipped the railing inches from her face.
She turned. A figure emerged from cover. Weapon raised. Finger tightening on the trigger.
Something slammed into her. Hard. Violent.
The rifle slipped from her fingers.
For a moment she didn't understand what had happened. Everything felt distant. Muted.
Then heat spread through her ribs.
Her hand flew to her side. Wet. Warm.
The sounds around her became distorted.
For a heartbeat everything seemed impossibly far away as something cold and vicious surged through her veins.
Someone rushed her. She met them head-on. Her fist connected with a jaw. Something cracked. The figure hit the deck.
Another grabbed for her arm and she tore free with enough force to send them stumbling backwards before driving them into the railing.
A weapon appeared in someone's hands. She ripped it away. The stock connected with a skull.
She barely registered faces anymore.
Only threats. Only enemies. Someone lunged. She struck first.
Another raised a weapon. She was already moving.
The deck pitched violently beneath her feet but somehow she remained standing.
Blood soaked her side. More than she realised. Far more. Every movement sent fresh agony through her ribs, yet she barely felt it.
Her body was running on borrowed time.
A roar tore from her throat as another attacker rushed her and a second later they were sprawled motionless across the deck beside the others.
Then there was nobody left standing.
Bodies littered the deck around her.
The fight had lasted seconds. Maybe minutes. She honestly couldn't tell.
The rush began to fade. Reality came crashing back all at once.
A white-hot spear driving through her side and it tore a horrid groan from her throat.
Then the weakness. Then the terrifying amount of blood coating her hand.
Her knees nearly buckled.
A violent cough tore from her chest. Blood splattered across the metal deck.
Another cough followed. More blood.
The deck suddenly seemed very far away. Very unsteady.
For a moment she thought she was going to collapse right there amongst the wreckage.
She couldn't focus on anything except the growing realization that something was very, very wrong.
One thought pushed through the haze.
Neteyam. Lo'ak. Spider. Were they out? Had they made it?
She tried to look toward the corridor. Tried to see them. Tried to make sure. Her vision blurred. She couldn't tell.
But she remembered them running. Remembered Neteyam leading everyone away. Remembered Lo'ak finally listening.
Safe. They had to be safe.
One step. The world tilted. Another.
The railing struck the backs of her legs.
The sky spun overhead. Smoke drifted across burning clouds.
For one impossible second everything slowed.
She thought of her brothers.
Every argument. Every laugh.
The ship disappeared above her.
The ocean rushed upward. Dark. Cold. Endless.
Pain exploded through her body. The impact stole what little breath she had left. Then the sea swallowed her whole.
The sounds of battle vanished. The shouting disappeared. The fire disappeared.
And her final coherent thought was a desperate hope that her siblings had made it out alive.
And everything went silent.
The massive vessel groaned somewhere out in the darkness as it continued its slow descent beneath the waves, flames reflecting across the ocean like dying stars while debris drifted across the surface.
Si'riya barely noticed any of it.
The ikran was behaving strangely.
Again and again the creature dove beneath the water before emerging moments later, circling frantically and pulling at something hidden beneath the surface.
Trying to save something.Trying to save someone.
She urged her own skimwing forward. The distance vanished quickly.
Then she saw it. A body floating amongst the wreckage. Motionless. Limp. Blue skin stained dark by seawater and blood.
She threw herself from her mount the moment she reached her, grabbing hold of (Y/N)'s shoulders and hauling her onto the skimwing's back.
For one horrible moment she thought she was already dead.
Then (Y/N) coughed. Blood spilled from her mouth. "Si'riya..." she whispered weakly.
Relief and terror slammed into her at the same time. "By Eywa, demon, what did you do?"
(Y/N)'s lips twitched weakly. "My brothers..."
The words dissolved into a wet, gargling cough. More blood stained her chin.
Tears immediately filled Si'riya's eyes. She looked around wildly. The ship was sinking. Night was falling.
Only the rocks nearby. It would have to do.
She didn't know if (Y/N) could hear her. She didn't know if she could even stay conscious.
But Si'riya kept talking anyway. "Hold on."
The skimwing surged through the water.
Moments later she was dragging (Y/N)'s body onto a stretch of rock protruding from the sea.
The girl felt impossibly heavy. Not because of her size. But because she wasn't helping. Because she was dying.
The realization settled into Si'riya's chest like a knife.
Please not her best friend.
She pulled (Y/N) into her lap and gripped her hand tightly.
Tisoha landed beside them. The ikran immediately lowered herself beside her rider and let out a low, mournful croon.
(Y/N) released another series of short, breathless coughs.
Tisoha gently nudged and nipped at (y/n)’s kuru. Then lowered her head.
Si'riya understood immediately.
The great ikran wanted to carry some of her rider’s pain in her last moments.
Her hands shook as she connected their kuru.
The effect was immediate. (Y/N) released a trembling breath. For the first time since she'd found her, some of the fear left her face.
"My brothers?" she rasped. The words were barely audible. "My brothers?"
Si'riya's stomach twisted. She hadn't seen them. She didn't know. She couldn't tell her that.
"They're safe," she said immediately."They got out."
(Y/N)'s eyes fluttered."Safe?"
Another weak nod. The smallest hint of relief crossed her face.
Then darkness swept over the ocean as Eclipse finally arrived.
The bioluminescent markings across (Y/N)'s skin glowed faintly. Then dimmed. Then dimmed further.
Si'riya stared. Her breath caught. "No..." A sob escaped her.
(Y/N)'s eyes slowly found hers again.
"Where's my dad?" she asked quietly.
The question shattered Si'riya. She looked away. She hadn't seen him. She didn't know where he was. "I don't know."
(Y/N) stared at her. The answer seemed to hit harder than the bullet ever had.
Her breathing immediately became faster. Shorter. Desperate.
"Please get my dad." The words cracked. "I want my dad."
She pulled her friends hand against her chest. . "I can't."
"Please." Tears spilled freely down (Y/N)'s cheeks now.
The fierce warrior who had thrown herself into a fight to do whatever she could to save her sibling was gone.
What remained was a frightened girl. "I want my daddy."
Tisoha released another soft sound and carefully rested her head across (Y/N)'s chest as though trying to comfort her the only way she knew how.
Another cough wracked her body. She struggled for air. Her face screwed shut.
For a moment she looked as though she were making peace with something. As though she understood exactly where this was heading.
Then her eyes opened again. The fear remained. "Si'riya."
Her voice was growing weaker. Every word seemed to cost her. "You've gotta make sure your siblings are okay too."
Another cough. Another struggle for breath.
"I can't..." She swallowed. Tried again. "I can't go if I don't know."
Si'riya lowered her head. Fresh tears slipped down her face. "Yeah." Her voice broke. "I'll make sure they're okay."
(Y/N) nodded faintly. The tension slowly left her shoulders. Not because she was comfortable. Not because she wasn't scared. Because she finally believed someone would look after them.
For a long moment neither of them spoke.
The ocean rolled against the rocks. Tisoha remained pressed against her rider. Eclipse bathed them all in darkness.
(Y/N)'s gaze drifted upward toward the stars. Then back toward the horizon. Still searching. Still hoping. Still wanting her father.
One final tear slipped down her cheek.
Then her body suddenly went very still. Far too still.
"(Y/N)?" Her voice cracked. She squeezed her hand tighter. The hand didn't squeeze back.
Her hand was limp. Completely limp. No squeeze. No movement. No response.
Si'riya stared at it as tears streamed down her face, falling freely now, dripping from her chin and splashing onto the face of her friend.
For a long moment she couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't think.
The ocean crashed against the rocks around them.
Eclipse blanketed the world in darkness.
Still she sat there, clutching (Y/N)'s hand between both of hers as though holding tighter would somehow change reality.
As though if she refused to let go, this wouldn't be happening. A broken sound escaped her throat. Half sob. Half gasp.
"No..." Her voice shattered.
The girl in her lap didn't answer. Would never answer.
The realization struck harder than anything she had ever experienced. (Y/N) was supposed to be impossible. She was supposed to survive everything. Every reckless idea. Every stupid plan. Every fight. Every impossible situation.
She was always the one laughing afterward. Always the one getting back up. Always the one dragging her through hell with her.
This time she hadn't gotten back up.
Tiso'ha released a low, mournful croon and gently nudged her rider's shoulder. There was no response.
The ikran pressed closer. Refusing to leave.
Si'riya swallowed hard. Then swallowed again. Trying desperately to force air back into lungs that suddenly didn't seem to work anymore.
She carefully lowered (Y/N)'s hand onto her chest. The fingers remained still. Cold seawater dripped from her own hair as she shakily climbed to her feet.
Her legs nearly gave out immediately. She caught herself against the rocks.
A sob escaped before she could stop it.
The sound echoed across the water. Raw. Broken. Painful.
She wiped furiously at her face with the back of her wrist, though the tears kept coming anyway.
Tiso'ha remained beside her rider, curled around her protectively, her head resting against (Y/N)'s chest as though refusing to believe she was gone.
Si'riya looked at the ikran.
At her sister. At the girl who had shared secrets and laughter and arguments and dreams.
"Look after her, girl," Si'riya whispered. Her voice trembled. "Tiso'ha... look after her."
The ikran released another soft sound.
Si'riya looked down one last time. The words caught in her throat. "I'll make sure they get out."
A shaky breath. "They'll be okay."
Another. "I'll find your dad too."
Fresh tears blurred her vision. "I promise."
Her voice finally broke. "Just... wait here."
The silence that followed nearly destroyed her. Because there was nobody left to hear the promise. Nobody left to grin and tell her she was being foolish. Nobody left to call her a guppy.
For one terrible moment she nearly stayed. Nearly collapsed beside her. Nearly screamed her grief into the darkness until her throat gave out.
But (Y/N) had given her one last task. Make sure they were safe. Make sure they got out. And she would not fail her.
Not when it mattered most.
A strangled sob escaped her as she turned away. Every step felt wrong. Every step felt like abandonment.
Like betrayal. Like leaving a part of herself behind. She was leaving the only friend she had ever known behind
She reached the edge of the rocks. Stopped. Looked back one final time.
Curled around her rider beneath the darkness of Eclipse.
Si'riya pressed a trembling hand against her mouth to stop the cry trying to escape.
Then she dove. The cold ocean swallowed her instantly. A moment later her skimwing surged upward from the darkness beneath her.
She grabbed hold. The creature turned toward the burning wreck. Toward the fighting. Toward the family that still didn't know what had happened.
And together they disappeared into the night.
The sea was dark now, illuminated only by distant fires and the faint glow of bioluminescence scattered across the water.
Neteyam sat hunched slightly, wincing every time he moved while Neytiri kept a protective hand resting on his shoulder, her eyes constantly scanning her children as if afraid one of them might vanish if she looked away.
The bullet had not killed him. But it had come close enough.
Jake was crouched nearby checking over the others one final time.
Tuk. Shaken. Terrified. But alive.
His relief should have been overwhelming.
Instead unease gnawed at him. A feeling he couldn't shake. Because somebody was missing.
"Mom," Neteyam asked quietly. "Where's (Y/N)?"
The question immediately drew everyone's attention.
Neytiri looked around. Then toward the ocean. Then back again. "I do not know."
Jake's stomach tightened. "Lo'ak?"
His son looked up. "The last time we saw her was on the ship."
Jake slowly turned toward the horizon. Toward the burning vessel. Or rather where it had been. Nothing remained now except scattered wreckage floating across the water.
The ship had sunk. Completely.
No, she wasn't still there.
His eldest was many things. Reckless. Stubborn. A pain in his ass.
His thoughts stopped. Because the truth was he didn't know. He hadn't seen her leave. Nobody had.
His voice sounded strange. Tight. Forced. "Look after the kids."
She immediately understood. Her ears flattened. "Jake—"
"I'm gonna double-check."
Because if she was down there—
A sudden splash interrupted him.Everyone turned.
Si'riya burst from the water. She hit the rocks running.
Straight past Jake. Straight past everyone. Her eyes landed on Tsireya. "Tsireya!"
The relief in her voice was immediate. Overwhelming. She threw her arms around her sister. "I'm so glad you're okay."
Her words came out broken. Breathless. "Thank Eywa you're okay."
Tsireya immediately wrapped her arms around her sister. Confused. Concerned. "Si'riya?"
Only then did Si'riya finally look up. Only then did she seem to remember everyone else standing there.
The Sully family. Waiting. Watching.
Hope flickered briefly across Jake's chest.
Because she had to know something. She had to know where his daughter was. “Have yo seen (y/n)?_
"I know where she is." The words were barely above a whisper.
Jake saw Neytiri rise to her feet instantly.
Si'riya's face crumpled. She shook her head. Just once.
Jake felt something inside him drop. Like a stone. The world seemed to tilt.
Not his little girl. Not his first baby. Not the child who used to climb into his lap and demand stories. Not the girl who somehow managed to cause problems everywhere she went.
His hands found Si'riya's shoulders before he even realized he'd moved.
The word came out hoarse. Desperate. Broken.
Si'riya lifted a trembling hand. "Those rocks."
Jake didn't wait. He was already moving. Already sprinting. Already diving into the water.
The cold ocean swallowed him whole.
He barely felt it. His arms burned as he swam. His lungs screamed. He ignored them.
He hauled himself onto the stone.
His knees scraped painfully. He didn't care.
Then he saw Tiso'ha. The ikran was curled around something. Protectively. Motionlessly.
Like a guardian refusing to leave her post.
Jake's heart shattered before he even saw her face. "(Y/N)!"
The scream tore itself from his throat.
Tiso'ha immediately lifted her head. The sound she made wasn't a screech. Wasn't a warning. It sounded heartbreakingly close to grief.
Jake stumbled forward. Nearly falling. The rocks tore open his knees as he dropped beside her.
His daughter lay exactly where Si'riya had left her. Still. Silent. Covered in blood.
Tiso'ha slowly moved aside. Reluctantly. As though surrendering her rider.
Jake gathered (Y/N) into his lap. She was cold. Too cold.
His shaking hand brushed wet strands of hair away from her face.
Her eyes stared past him. Unseeing.Empty.
The sight nearly stopped his heart. He looked over her desperately. Searching. Hoping. Praying.
Finding the wounds in her chest. Finding the blood. Finding the terrible stillness.
And just like that everything inside him collapsed. All the strength. All the determination. All the hope.
"Oh, pumpkin..." The words came out as a choked sob.
He pulled her closer. Cradling her against his chest exactly the way he had when she was small enough to fit in one arm. As though holding her tightly enough might somehow bring her back.
"Dad's here." His voice broke.
"Dad's got you now." Tears fell freely down his face. "I'm here, pumpkin."
Another sob escaped him. "I'm here."
But for the first time in her life. His daughter couldn't answer.
Jake held her as tightly as he dared. As though if he loosened his grip for even a second she would slip away completely.
The weight of her in his arms was painfully familiar. He had carried her when she was a baby. Carried her on his shoulders when she was too tired to walk. Carried her home after she'd done something stupid and gotten hurt.
And now... Now he was carrying her for the last time.
The realization nearly broke him. His throat tightened painfully. His chest ached. Tears burned behind his eyes.
Because he was her father.
Because fathers were supposed to be strong. Because if he let himself fall apart now, he wasn't sure he would ever stop.
His hand trembled as he brushed another strand of hair from her face.
She looked so young. Far too young. Not the fierce warrior everyone saw. Not the troublemaker. Not the stubborn young adult who constantly challenged every order he gave and made every day a headache
Just his little girl. His first baby. The child who had made him a father.
"Oh, pumpkin..." The words barely left his mouth. A tear escaped despite his efforts. Then another.
He squeezed his eyes shut. Tried to stop them.
The sound of scrambling footsteps reached him.
Neytiri was the first to arrive.
One look at her daughter's body and something inside her shattered. A terrible sound tore from her throat.
A sound so full of pain and grief that it barely sounded from this world. "N-no..."
She stumbled forward. Then dropped to her knees beside them.
Her hands immediately found her daughter's face. Cradling her cheek.Touching her hair.
As though trying desperately to convince herself this was not real. "No."
Jake had heard Neytiri cry before. He had heard her mourn. He had heard her rage. But nothing compared to this.
This was the sound of a mother losing her child.
Their children arrived moments later.
Neteyam froze. The colour drained from his face.
Lo'ak simply stared. As though his mind refused to process what he was seeing.
Tuk immediately burst into tears.
Spider looked away. Unable to bear the sight.
Behind them, Si'riya stood silently.
Her head hung low. Unable to look at any of them. Unable to stop blaming herself.
Tsireya stood beside her, gripping her sister tightly as tears slid silently down her face.
Nobody spoke. Nobody knew how.
Neytiri's hands shook violently as she cupped her daughter's face between them. "Great Mother..." Her voice broke. "Why?"
A sob escaped her. "Why my daughter?"
Her forehead pressed against (Y/N)'s. "Why my child?"
Jake couldn't answer. Nobody could.
No explanation that would ever make this hurt less.
Slowly, carefully, Jake helped transfer their daughter into Neytiri's arms.
The moment Neytiri held her, whatever control she had left vanished completely.She pulled her firstborn tightly against her chest.
Protective. Like she could still shield her from the world. Like she could still keep her safe.
A mother's instincts refusing to accept reality.
The wail that left her then echoed across the ocean. Raw. Broken. A pain so deep no one would be able to understand it.
The sound of a mother's heart breaking.
Jake immediately moved beside her. Wrapping both arms around Neytiri as she collapsed against him.
His own tears flowed freely now. He no longer cared about stopping them.
One hand remained on his daughter's shoulder.
The other held his mate together as she shook with grief.
And beneath the darkness of Eclipse, surrounded by their children, Jake and Neytiri mourned the daughter they had loved from her very first breath. The daughter who had always run headfirst into danger. The daughter who had loved fiercely and fought fiercely and lived fiercely.
The world had narrowed to the sound of Neytiri's grief. It tore across the shoreline again, raw and broken, the sound of a mother desperately trying to hold onto something that was already slipping through her fingers.
She clutched (Y/n) tighter against her chest. As if holding her harder would somehow keep her here. As if refusing to let go would force Eywa herself to return what had been taken.
Jake wasn't much better. His hands trembled. His breathing came in uneven pulls.
He kept reaching for his daughter only to stop halfway, like some part of him couldn't accept what his eyes were seeing.
His eldest. His little girl. Still. Too still.
Every instinct screamed at him to do something. Fix it. Help. Say something. Anything.
"Why isn't she getting up?" Tuk's small voice shattered what little composure remained. "Neteyam?"
His little sister looked up at him with wide frightened eyes.Waiting for an answer. Waiting for her big brother to explain why their sister wasn't moving. Why their mother was crying.Why their father looked like he was falling apart.
Neteyam opened his mouth.Nothing came out. Because he didn't know.Because he couldn't explain something he refused to believe himself.
Instead he simply pulled Tuk into his arms. Held her tightly against his chest.The little girl buried her face against him.
And for the first time in a very long time Neteyam felt utterly helpless.
Beside him Lo'ak looked worse. Like someone had ripped the foundations out from underneath him. His face had gone pale. His breathing shallow. His eyes fixed entirely on his sister.
Waiting. Still waiting. For her to laugh. To sit up. To call him an idiot.
His knees nearly gave out beneath him.
A hand caught his arm before he could stumble. Tsireya. Her grip tightened. Steadying him. Grounding him.
Lo'ak barely seemed to notice.
His gaze never left (Y/n). Never left the sister who had always stood between him and danger.Who had always come when he needed her.Who had always gotten back up.
Kiri sat silently. Silent tears slid down her face. She didn't wipe them away.
Didn't seem to notice them at all.
Her eyes remained fixed on her sister.
On the body lying in their mother's arms.
Si'riya moved closer. Slowly. Carefully.
Her hand settled gently upon Kiri's shoulder.
Nothing was said. There were no words for this. No comfort that could possibly make it better.
But Kiri's hand found Si'riya's.
Holding onto something. Anything.
The silence stretched. Broken only by Neytiri's grief. By Jake's ragged breathing. By the waves washing softly against the shore as if the world hadn't just ended.
And that was perhaps the cruelest part.
As eclipse ended the sun still shone. The ocean still moved. The wind still blew.
While the Sully family felt as though their hearts had stopped beating altogether.
The village had gone quiet. Not truly quiet. There were still waves. Still wind. Still life moving somewhere beyond the family's grief.
But around Jake and Neytiri there was only silence.
A terrible silence. The kind that settled after something precious had been broken beyond repair.
Their daughter lay before them.
Clean now. The blood washed away. The wounds tended to as best they could.
Her braids had been straightened. Her hands folded.
She looked peaceful.Too peaceful.
Jake hated it.Because peace wasn't supposed to look like this. Peace was supposed to be (Y/n) laughing.
Arguing with him. Getting herself into trouble. Sneaking out before dawn.
Making his life difficult.
His shaking hand came up and gently cupped her face.The familiar scar beneath his thumb. The one he'd traced a hundred times before. The one he'd secretly hated because it reminded him of every time he'd failed to protect her.
His vision blurred. Because all he could see wasn't the young woman lying before him.
A tiny baby. Opening her eyes.
Looking up at him for the very first time. That enormous smile.
That smile that had always come so easily when she saw him.
The first time she'd spoken.
The first time she'd walked.
The first time she'd fallen asleep on his chest.
Every memory hit him at once.
And suddenly the dam broke.
A sound escaped him. Broken. Raw.
A father whose heart had been torn from his chest. A father who had lost his little girl.
Saw him breaking. And immediately moved. She crossed the space between them almost desperately and threw her arms around him.
Holding him. Clinging to him. As though she too might shatter if she let go.
Jake buried his face against her shoulder. And cried.
The guilt was suffocating. Relentless. Cruel.
The question kept coming back.
Where was he when she needed him?
Where was he when she was bleeding?
He had spent her entire life promising he would protect her. Promising he would keep her safe.
And when it mattered most—he wasn't there.
His daughter had died alone.The thought hollowed him out.
She should have had her family.She should have had him.
Instead she had pain. Fear. And darkness.
Jake squeezed his eyes shut. Unable to escape the image. Unable to stop imagining her calling for him. Looking for him. Waiting for him.
Neytiri wasn't faring any better. Her face was buried against his neck. Tears soaking into his skin.
Her fingers clenched desperately into his shoulders. As though she could hold herself together through him. Through the only other person who understood this pain.
Their daughter. Their first child. The baby they'd raised together.
And neither of them knew how to survive that.
For a long time they simply held each other. Neither speaking. Neither capable of speaking.
The way they always had. The way they always would.
Because there were no words left.
Only the unbearable absence of the daughter they both would have gladly given their own lives to save.
The hardest thing Jake Sully had ever done was place his daughter in that sled.
Harder than war. Harder than leaving Earth. Harder than every battle, every impossible choice, every sacrifice he had ever made.
Nothing came close to this.
The funeral sled drifted quietly across the dark water, pulled by a ilu whose movements were slow and gentle, as though even they understood the weight of what they carried.
His daughter. His firstborn. His pumpkin. His best friend.
The ocean stretched endlessly around them beneath the starlight while far below, the reef glowed gold, vast rivers of living light winding through the darkness like veins beneath Pandora's skin.
Jake sat rigid upon his ilu. Strong. Because he had to be. Because Neytiri needed him. Because his children needed him. Because if he broke now, he feared there would be no putting himself back together again.
So he swallowed every sob. Every scream. Every desperate plea for Eywa to give her back.And he led his family out across the ocean.
The journey felt endless.And far too short.
Because every stroke of the ilu's fins brought them closer to goodbye.
Eventually the glowing reef beneath them became brighter than the stars above.The golden tendrils swayed beneath the surface, reaching upward like countless welcoming hands.
The place of the Metkayina dead.The place where his daughter would rest.
Jake slipped from his ilu without a word.
The water closed around him. Cool.Silent. He swam toward the sled.Toward her.
His family gathered around it.
Neytiri was beside their daughter as Neteyam and Lo’ak helped slide her out, their mother with one trembling hand cupping her cheek.
She had been doing it all evening. As though memorising her face.As though terrified that if she looked away she might forget some tiny detail.
Her fingers brushed across her daughter's brow.
Across the scars she had once hated because they reminded her of every pain her child had endured.
Now she would have given anything to see those scars heal one more time.
Neytiri's jaw trembled.She bit down hard enough to hurt.Refusing to break.Refusing to steal this moment from her daughter.
Her child deserved a proper farewell.
(Y/n) rested peacefully within the sled. Curled into the fetal position.
The same position Neytiri had once held her in after nightmares.The same position she'd slept in as a small child.
For one terrible moment Neytiri could almost pretend she was simply asleep.That any second those eyes would open. That she would complain about being carried around.That she would laugh.That she would smile.
Instead there was only silence.
Neteyam gripped his sister's arm tightly.Far too tightly.
As though he could somehow hold her here through sheer force of will.
His eyes never left her face.
If you are going to wake up...
The prayer repeated endlessly in his mind. A desperate bargain with a universe that did not seem interested in listening.
Beside him, Lo'ak brushed trembling fingers across his sister's hand. Over her knuckles. Over the familiar calluses she'd earned from years of training.
Years of protecting them. His chest hurt. Everything hurt.
This wasn't supposed to happen.
(Y/n) always got back up. Always. No matter how badly she was hurt. No matter how impossible things looked.
She got back up. She laughed. She insulted him. She told him to stop being an idiot.
That was how things worked.
That was how they were supposed to work.
Jake floated opposite Neytiri. His daughter between them.
His vision blurred again. He couldn't stop it. Could barely breathe around the lump lodged in his throat.
The thought nearly destroyed him.
He took a deep breath. Then another. Trying desperately to steady himself. Trying not to break before he could finish this final act as her father.
Neytiri met his gaze. The pain there mirrored his own. Neither spoke.
Words had long since failed them.
Together they reached for their daughter.
One final time. One last touch. One last act of love.
The water rushed around them as they guided her downward toward the glowing reef below.
Toward the waiting tendrils of gold.
Toward where the earth would hold her body, her spirit going to Eywa.
Jake kept one hand upon her for as long as possible.
Neither willing to let go.
But eventually there came a moment when they had no choice.
Their hands slipped away.
And she continued downward without them.
(Y/n) drifted deeper into the golden light. The glowing tendrils reached upward.
Welcoming. Gentle. Almost embracing.
As though Pandora was welcoming one of its daughters home.
Jake and Neytiri watched helplessly. Watched their daughter sink further away.
Until she became a silhouette surrounded by gold.
Glowing softly beneath the dark water.
While above it, a father and mother hung suspended in the ocean, their hands reaching toward the place where their daughter had disappeared.
Unable to imagine a world that would continue turning without her in it.
There was one final part of the ceremony. One final place they had to go.
The Cove of the Ancestors.
The place where the dead lived within Eywa, within memories.
Where those who had passed could still be found if only for a little while.
Perhaps he would see her. Perhaps he would not. Perhaps this was the only way left to find his daughter.
Jake wasn't sure he was ready. But he knew he couldn't leave without trying.
Neytiri's hand found his. Their fingers intertwined.
Holding each other together.
Together they were before Ranteng Utralti.
Together they connected their kuru.
And when Jake opened his eyes again— He was home. The forests of the Omatikaya stretched endlessly around him.
Sunlight filtered through the leaves. Animals called in the distance.
For a moment he simply stood there.
His heart stopped. She came sprinting through the trees. Small. Happy. No scars. No burdens.No war.
Only a little girl of nine years old throwing herself toward him at full speed.
Jake dropped to one knee.
Caught her as she crashed into him.Her little arms wrapped around his neck.And for one horrible second he almost broke. Because this was how he remembered her. Before the battles.Before the blood. Before the nightmares. Before he had turned her into a soldier.
His arms locked around her.Holding her so tightly it almost hurt. "Dad?" she laughed.
He buried his face in her hair. Breathing her in. Trying to memorize every second. Every feeling. Every little detail.
And suddenly she wasn't nine anymore. The child faded. The young woman remained.
Whole. Unscarred. The way she might have been if life had been kinder.
She knelt in front of him smiling. Happy. Unburdened. Free.
"What's got you all down, old man?" she asked. Her grin widened. "You look like you've aged fifty years."
A sound escaped Jake. Part laughPart sob. He reached forward immediately and pulled her into his arms again. Hard. Desperate.
Like if he let go she might disappear. "I just missed you, pumpkin."
(Y/n) let out a muffled noise. "Dad."
He laughed. A broken laugh. The kind that hurt.
"You're so fat you're crushing me."
Jake barked out another laugh despite himself. A tear escaped. Then another.
But he didn't let go. Not yet. Not when he finally had her again. Not when she'd been gone.
Not when he'd just buried her.
Eventually she wriggled enough that he loosened his grip.
She sat back. Still smiling. Still completely unaware. Completely innocent.
Jake swallowed. Hard. "Why'd you do it, pumpkin?" The question escaped before he could stop it.
(Y/n) blinked. "Do what, dad?"
Of course she wouldn't know. She didn't remember. Didn't know she'd died. Didn't know she'd left them behind. Didn't know what had happened on that ship.
"Why don't you ever run?" he asked quietly. "Why don't you ever wait for me to come get you?"
The confusion on her face was immediate.Genuine.
(Y/n) tilted her head. "I always wait for you."
The simplicity of the answer shattered him.
Because to her—He always came to get her.
No matter what.No matter how long it took.
Her father always came and got her.
Neytiri watched from a short distance away.
A small smile touched her face.
For a moment she forgot. Forgot the funeral. Forgot the grief. Forgot the impossible weight sitting inside her chest.
Because here was her daughter. Laughing. Teasing her father.
Then she felt a hand settle upon her shoulder.Another on the opposite side.
Sylwanin stood beside her. Her sister. Gone so many years now.
On her other side stood Eytukan. Her father. Strong as she remembered. Proud. Steady.
And suddenly Neytiri remembered where she was.
Remembered why she had come.
The grief rushed back. Her eyes filled immediately.
Sylwanin squeezed her shoulder gently. "We will watch over her."
Neytiri's breath hitched.
Eytukan's hand tightened upon her shoulder. A father comforting his child. "She will not be alone."
Neytiri's composure finally cracked. A quiet sob escaped her.
Because that had been her greatest fear. That her daughter had gone into the darkness alone. That she was frightened. Lost. Hurting.
But now—That fear eased. Just a little.
Sylwanin smiled. "We have her."
Eytukan nodded. "And until it is your time, we will care for her."
Neytiri closed her eyes. Leaning into their touch.
While across the clearing Jake sat beside his daughter beneath the trees. Listening to her laugh. Listening to her tease him.
Trying desperately to hold onto every second.
Because he knew this moment would not last.
And because letting go of her a second time might somehow hurt even more than the first.
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