Description: After becoming an alien in a new body, getting swept up in a brutal war, and raising children, Jake's trauma catches up to him in the form of panic attacks.
Content Warnings: Angst! Panic Attacks, PTSD, empty nester!Jake/reader, takes place 6 years after Avatar: Fire and Ash, but in an AU where the humans were driven back and the Sully's moved home.
Author's note: Based on this and this request! Both were for more Jake angst, so here's what I came up with. I hope you guys like it! Requests for Jake are open!
Thank you, Finnie, for helping me as always!! You're a real one!
“What do you want for dinner, Baby?” Jake called with a smile as he put away his equipment, walking around to tighten straps and pack cases outside of your kelku (home) as you sat nearby.
You looked up from where you were wrapping a new piece of leather around your bow’s grip, the old one wearing away and causing your aim to suffer. You hummed at the same question that had plagued you for years. “Something easy, I do not feel like slaving over the fire tonight,” you answered and Jake nodded along in agreement.
“Okay, what about dried yerik, or wraps?” he asked and you mulled it over.
“Whatever you feel like making is good with me,” you shrugged, a knowing smile on your face as Jake threw a mock-exasperated glare at you and rose to stand.
He pointed a finger in your direction, “I’ll make you dinner, as long as you know that you’re lucky I’m in love with you,” he said, but you just beamed.
“You do? Really? Who would have guessed after over 20 years of marriage and four children ,” you teased as he began his approach.
He huffed out a laugh and stalked closer. “I never should have taught you about human sarcasm,” he groaned. He gently sandwiched your jaw between his hands and pressed a firm kiss to your mouth, effectively wiping the grin off your lips. He kissed you one, two times in quick succession, before lingering on the third and final kiss. Even after all these years, he still made your head spin.
But he withdrew nearly as soon as he appeared. He pulled away and let go of you, causing you to let out a groan of protest as your hands reached out for him.
“Do not tease,” you huffed as he backed away, still facing you with a smug smile.
“You wanted me to go make dinner,” he shrugged, hitching a thumb over his shoulder towards your home.
You frowned, “I will help you make it then, just come back,” you begged and he paused, hands finding his hips as he looked down at you.
“As interesting as that offer is, I don’t think we’d get much cooking done, Angel,” he pointed out.
As soon as the words were out of his mouth, an ikran screamed nearby, enraged by another ikran nipping at its side. Its wings spread wide enough to bump into a metal crate full of heavy equipment, which fell from its ledge, crashing onto the rock below and making a hollow, sharp clanging. The sound was vaguely reminiscent of a gunshot.
The bang echoed off of the cavern of Highcamp, multiplying in volume until it reached your kelku, causing you to flinch at the jolting noise. The Ikran’s rider ran to make tsuheylu and calm the beast down, but the damage was already done.
Your eyes flew to Jake as he froze. His eyes shot around Highcamp, searching for any sign of danger as his body rigidly lowered onto a gun case to his left. His chest began to heave from the exertion of pulling in and pushing air.
“Jake,” you asked lowly, warily watching for signs that you needed to intervene. His hands started clenching into fists and you could visibly see the internal war he was waging. His legs were splayed in front of him as his hands cradled the sides of his head, panic obviously wracking his system.
You lowered your equipment immediately and hurried over to his side. “Okay, it is okay,” you murmured absentmindedly as you moved. You dropped beside him, inches away as you watched Jake shake his head and squeeze his eyes tight.
“You are safe, Jake,” you reassured him. “Equipment was just knocked over by a clumsy ikran,” you informed him. “You are safe.” You kept your hands consciously to yourself, knowing your husband hated to be smothered when he got like this. The man was usually always reaching for you, loving any skin to skin contact he could get, but in this state, he said he felt constricted enough.
Jake nodded, hands shaking as they clutched his head. His golden eyes were still rapidly darting around, wide and panicked. You gave him a few moments, knowing it needed to run its course and he needed to rationalize his thoughts.
Finally, when time seemed to stretch indefinitely on, you asked, “What do you need?” Your hands clenched into fists in an attempt not to reach for him as you had in the past. You remembered the way he had swatted you away and the subsequent guilt he still felt days after because of what he had done.
“I don’t… I don't know,” he said through his teeth, jaw tight and barely moving.
“That is okay,” you nodded. Pattering footsteps alerted you to a new arrival and your eyes flitted to where your 13 year old daughter, Tuk, was bounding over. Her smile faded when she realized her father was having, what Norm called, a panic attack.
When the first one had overtaken him, you had genuinely thought he was dying. You had cried, begging for him to snap out of it, but it took two hours for him to regain control and his composure. You had made Norm run every test he could, Jake had refused some of them. But when you received more information, you started working on solutions, learning what worked best for him. One of those things was space.
You shot up and intercepted her path before she reached her Sempul (father). “Tuktuk,” you said, “Can you do me a favor?” you asked.
Her eyes were wide as she looked up at you, obviously worried. “What is it? Is he okay?” she replied, her little hands wringing together.
“He will be fine. But can you go to the humans and get some of their ice? Oh, and an avatar mask from the lab,” you instructed, already steering her shoulders back towards the direction she came from. “Be as quick as the wind, they will help Sempul.”
“Okay,” she nodded eagerly. Her brow still sat low with worry, but she looked determined to help.
And you bit your lip in thought before adding, “And do not tell your sister if you pass her. Say you are doing chores.” You did not need your adult daughter worried over her father too.
Tuk nodded in confirmation. “Go,” you requested and she took off towards the lab.
You turned back to your husband to find him blinking hard at the rock below. Water pooled under his eyes and dripped straight down to the craggy surface. “I am here, Ma’Jake,” you said, coming back to your perch beside him, your heart twisting in pain at seeing him this way.
After Neteyam’s death and your war with the Skypeople, Jake had become different. With the first war against the humans, decades ago, he had not fully understood the bond of family. He had grieved Grace and Trudy, mourned their deaths as he did the others, but that could not compare with the misery of losing a child of his own.
When Neteyam died, it had fundamentally changed you both. Jake’s laughter lines slowly softened and your hands felt empty after only preparing 5 meals, instead of 6. There seemed to be a great, gaping hole blown right through the center of your family that you knew nothing could fill.
You had stopped wearing your veil after the mourning period, but it had taken a year for you to stop wearing the paint. You knew Lo’ak spent some time each day at the Spirit Tree visiting his brother and Kiri still coddled Tuk like she was a baby. Your family had fractured into pieces you could not easily meld back together. Even all these years later, you all still needed time to heal.
But things had changed again when your family had decided to move back home. The skypeople had been pushed back and they would not suspect you to move back to Highcamp, even as it doubled as the perfect place to keep an eye out that humans did not rally more strength. But besides the war, Kiri and Tuk longed for the forest. It had been years since they had been with their people and you still hated the sea, never growing used to the customs there or the way the salt dried your skin. So, with hesitancy, Jake decided to give in to his girls.
But while the four of you had eagerly started packing, Lo’ak had broken the news that he had decided to stay.
He was 20, fully his own man, and did not want to leave his brother or the home he had found amongst the reef. Even more so, he was mated. He would never leave Tsireya, and she would never leave the reef or her young sister. He had chosen the sea and although it had felt like a dagger in your heart to hear it, you knew he could not go.
You had understood, of course you had. You had once chosen your mate over your people, and you did not regret it, but you now understand your own mother’s fear. He would be without his family, you could no longer watch over him as you had his entire life, but you knew it was what was right.
Shortly after you had arrived back in the forest, Kiri had moved into her own kelku, saying she wanted her own space and her own schedule. You had understood her reasoning as well, but that left just you, Jake and Tuk. The peace and quiet was sometimes nice, but the space also felt yawning and wide open. There was less laughter, less people around the fire, your hammocks barely took up any room and you never bumped into them in the middle of the night anymore.
And so you and Jake had started mourning for new reasons. Your children living out of the home had felt like another loss. You were no longer young, your children no longer depended on you, and you began to question who you were, if not parents. You no longer held your old titles, there was no war to be fought, no clan for you to lead. You were just… people. And you both realized you did not like that conclusion.
You had started weaving, joining the other women to gossip and craft, but Jake had turned back to what he knew, training. He practiced aim, built up muscle and endurance, even started hunting on new grounds just for the added challenge. You had no idea what he was preparing for, and you had a feeling that he did not either.
Then, a few months ago, Jake had started having episodes where he would dissolve into shaking fits and even struggle to breathe. You had demanded answers from Norm and Max, but their diagnosis made little sense to you.
They had named them Panic Attacks caused by something called PTSD, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Jake had assured you it was fine, even common on the planet he came from, but you did not feel that anything about this was common. They had explained that when someone, soldiers especially, undergoes extreme and overwhelming loss or stress, they can develop this disorder.
Jake had seemed ashamed of it, not wanting to talk about what that meant for him or your family. He simply said it was fine and would go away, something both you and the scientists had disagreed on. But, it did not matter what you said or did, he did not want to talk about it, so you had decided to let it go for a while.
But that was months ago, and he only seemed to be getting worse instead of better.
“Jake,” you called, slowly placing a hand on his knee as a comfort, wincing when he flinched. You kept your hand on his skin as he relaxed just enough not to jump at your touch. You could feel the shaking of his knee, as if there was an undercurrent of energy buzzing through him.
“Sa’nok (mother),” Tuk said, running toward you both with a mask outstretched.
“Thank you, my girl,” you replied. You took it from her, lowering into a crouch in front of Jake and you saw how blown wide his pupils were.
“Here is air to breathe,” you warned, slowly moving the mask to his face and you were grateful that instead of fighting you, he grabbed at the clear plastic and held it tight, sucking in lungfuls of air so he could get a concentrated amount of oxygen. You slipped the elastic over his head to keep the mask in place as you went for your next secret weapon.
You reached towards Tuk for the ice and she dropped three square cubes in your hand, slightly melted from her trip here. Max had suggested trying anything that would gently shock Jake’s system and ground him. You had tried touch, making him drink water, even singing songs, but nothing helped, not until Norm had jokingly suggested an ice bath.
“I am giving you ice, Ma Jake,” you informed him before you slipped the frozen water into his hands and he closed his fist over them, squeezing tightly.
“Thanks, Baby,” he murmured, eyes pressed closed. You relaxed at the familiar nickname and the way his shoulders were slowly lowering.
“Sa’nu (mom), is he going to be alright?” Tuk asked from behind you, uneasily gnawing on one of her fingernails as she watched her dad’s breathing even out.
You did your best attempt at a smile, “Yes, Ma’ite (my daughter), he will be okay.” You reached out for her and pulled her to your side, arms around her shoulders in a tight embrace as she hugged your waist.
“I’m fine, Peanut. Don’t worry about your old man, okay?” Jake said, lifting his head to look at Tuk through half open lids and a lowered brow. His voice was hoarse and raspy, but he was stringing sentences together and that was enough to placate the teenager.
The use of Jake's nickname for her seemed to calm her nerves a little. “Okay,” she nodded.
“Why don’t you go find your friends?” you suggested, running a hand over her back.
Her eyes shifted between her parents, looking uneasy about leaving. “Or I could stay here in case you need me,” she offered, but as a mother, you saw right through her anxiety.
You smiled at her. “That’s very kind, but I think we have it now. You already helped us a lot. Thank you.”
“Okay,” she nodded hesitantly, “You are welcome,” she added before backing away. “Feel better, Sempu,” she called as she walked away.
“Thank you, Babygirl,” he called back, pulling the mask away from his face and setting it down on the crate beside him. His head found its way back to his hands, staring down at the rock in shame and guilt.
You pursed your lips as your daughter left your line of vision. “Do you want me to leave too?” you asked lowly after a moment.
“No,” he said immediately, but did not look up at you. You let the silence sit, giving him time to recover and regroup.
“What do you want me to do?” he finally asked, breaking the relative quiet of the evening.
You stiffened at the loaded question. “What do you mean?” you replied, shifting on your feet as he finally lifted his head.
“You want to say something, I can feel it. I’m tired of doing this, I can’t protect you and the girls if I’m freakin’ out over everything that makes noise. You know me better than anyone, and you see what I can’t right now. What’s your advice?” he asked. He still gripped onto the ice and water dripped onto the floor.
You blinked, unsure what to say. Your husband was often too proud to ask for help. He was a leader, a strategist, and an overthinker. He planned each step well before he took it, but he did not ask for help, not even from you. You knew it was not because he did not think you were capable, but more so because he was terribly stubborn.
You sighed, sitting down beside him on the crate, pushing the mask out of the way to make room. “I think you need to talk to someone, anyone. Mo’at, Akwey, Norm, somebody. You cannot keep everything bottled up,” you admitted.
He nodded, brows pinching together. “I’ll think about it,” he relented and you let out a breath.
“That is all I ask,” you said, laying a hand tentatively on his shoulder. He dropped the ice, flicking off the water from his 4 fingered hands and clasping his opposite hand over yours. It was cold and sent a shiver down your spine, but you found that you did not care. “We love you, Jake. We do not want you to suffer,” you added.
“I’m not suffering," he insisted, “I just… this is hard.”
“This is hard,” you agreed, “This is unknown territory, and it feels… empty,” you said, finding the right words. “But we still have each other. You still have this family, Ma Jake, even if it feels different. You are not alone.”
“I know, Angel.” He nodded, taking your hand in his and tugging you to his side, wrapping an arm around your back and holding you close. Even though his hands still trembled slightly, his fingers almost bruised your arm with how tightly he held you.
“I had so much to fight for, but now the children are grown. They don’t need us anymore. Lo’ak is so far away after everything that went wrong between us. Kiri and Tuk are independent, they do their own thing. I don’t like feeling like I’m just… here. I want to be needed," he explained.
“I need you,” you exclaimed, gripping onto him where your arms circled his middle. “You are my everything. I thank the Great Mother every day for giving me you all those years ago. I need you and the kids still need their daddy. I do not care how old they are or where they may be. A child will always need their parents.”
“You think so?” he said against your hair.
“I know so. We both lost our fathers so young, but think of how much we needed their guidance when we were Kiri and Lo’ak’s age and could not turn to them for advice. They do need you, Ma Jake,” you promised.
“Thank you, Angel,” Jake said, pressing a kiss to your head, and you closed your eyes at the sweet contact.
“Always,” you whispered, “Please do not close yourself off to me. I am here.”
He nodded, fingers relaxing against your skin. “I’m gonna do my best. Just have some patience with me.”
“I would not have stayed with you all of these years if I did not have an abundance of patience,” you teased, and the chuckle he let out eased your soul to hear. “Take your time, I will wait right here beside you.”
“I love you,” he said, and you did not have to look over to tell he was grinning. A turn always found its way to his lips when he said that.
