Too late to see me
Part 2
Trying wasn’t enough.
They learned that quickly.
Painfully.
Every small thing they did—bringing you food, staying close, watching over you and Lo’ak—
It didn’t reach you.
Not the way they hoped.
Not the way they needed.
Because the place they broke—
Was not something effort alone could fix.
—
Jake noticed it first.
The way you never leaned into him anymore.
The way your eyes avoided his when he spoke too softly.
The way every touch felt… tolerated.
Not wanted.
Neytiri felt it too.
Even worse.
Because you used to seek her out.
And now—
You barely looked at her.
—
One night, when you had finally fallen asleep with Lo’ak resting against your chest,
They stepped outside.
Away from you.
Away from the silence that suffocated them.
Jake ran a hand through his hair, pacing slightly.
“…She’s gone,” he muttered.
Neytiri shook her head quickly, but her voice broke anyway. “No—she is here.”
“Not with us.”
That hit.
Hard.
Neytiri’s breath hitched, her hands trembling at her sides.
“We are trying,” she whispered.
Jake let out a hollow laugh.
“Yeah… and it’s not doing anything.”
Silence.
Then—
It broke.
Completely.
Neytiri’s shoulders shook as tears finally spilled over.
Not quiet ones.
Not controlled.
Real.
Raw.
“We failed her,” she choked out.
Jake stopped pacing.
Because hearing it out loud—
Made it real.
He swallowed hard, his own voice rough.
“…I wasn’t there.”
The words felt like knives.
“She needed me… and I wasn’t there.”
Neytiri covered her face, her breath uneven.
“She was alone… carrying our child… in pain…”
Jake’s chest tightened painfully.
“And we were somewhere else.”
That was the worst part.
Not that they didn’t know.
But that they could’ve been there.
They just… weren’t.
—
Jake sank down, elbows on his knees, staring at nothing.
“…No matter what we do… it won’t change that.”
Neytiri looked at him, tears still falling.
Because she knew.
Deep down—
She knew he was right.
All the effort.
All the trying.
It couldn’t undo that moment.
That absence.
That betrayal.
—
Inside—
You stirred slightly, adjusting Lo’ak in your arms.
Even in your sleep—
You held him protectively.
Like the world could take him too.
—
Days passed again.
Nothing improved.
Not really.
You spoke when needed.
You allowed help when necessary.
But your heart—
Stayed distant.
Untouched.
—
Jake tried one more time.
He approached slowly, sitting beside you while you watched Lo’ak.
“[name]…”
You didn’t look at him.
“We’re not giving up.”
Silence.
“Even if you never forgive us.”
That made you pause.
Just slightly.
He saw it.
And held onto it.
“We’ll stay,” he continued. “For him… and for you. However long it takes.”
You finally looked at him.
And something in your expression shifted.
Not softer.
Not warmer.
Just… tired.
“That’s your choice,” you said quietly.
Not our.
Not we.
Your.
And that hurt more than anything else.
—
Later that night—
The tension snapped again.
Not loudly.
Not dramatically.
But in a way that changed everything.
You stood alone for a moment, looking out into the glowing forest, Lo’ak finally asleep behind you.
Your chest felt heavy.
Too heavy.
Like staying here—
Like staying with them—
Would slowly suffocate you.
—
Behind you, Jake and Neytiri watched.
Silent.
Afraid to move.
Afraid to push.
—
Then—
You took a step.
Toward the forest.
Away from them.
—
Jake’s breath caught.
“…[name]?”
You didn’t turn around.
Another step.
Neytiri’s voice trembled. “Where are you going?”
Still—
No answer.
—
Because this time—
It wasn’t anger.
It wasn’t a reaction.
It was a decision.
—
Jake stood quickly. “Wait—”
You finally spoke.
Soft.
But final.
“I need space.”
The words hit like a warning.
Like something bigger was coming.
Something they wouldn’t be able to stop.
—
Neytiri took a step forward, panic rising. “Do not leave—please—”
You closed your eyes briefly.
Because hearing her beg—
Almost made you stay.
Almost.
—
But not enough.
—
You walked forward.
Into the forest.
Into the unknown.
Leaving them standing there—
Watching.
Breaking.
Realizing too late—
That this time…
Their effort wasn’t what mattered.
Because you were already slipping away again.
And they didn’t know if you would come back.
𝓣𝓸 𝓫𝓮 𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓾𝓮𝓭…