Stones in my heart. (Quaritch and Spider hurt-comfort one-shot)
(Set three weeks post A3)
Spider couldn’t confess what happened between him and Jake to anyone in his beloved family…but maybe he can confess to the man who he wishes was dead.
The two watched as a tiny, poorly-repaired RDA outpost went up in flames, accentuated by the end of eclipse. The boy wouldn’t be surprised if the top brass blamed the explosion on a faulty engine or poor air filtration.
He glanced at the monster next to him. The man whom he was unfortunately related to, and the man who just so happened to be at that very outpost when Spider snuck in to perform recon. The task was simple; get information and get out, but seeing all those exposed wires…Socorro just couldn’t resist.
Too bad he didn’t quite time his escape, and the building almost buried him alive, but Miles stumbled right into him and with no time for explanation, pried the jammed doors open and they ran, conveniently away from patrol routes. Spider didn’t expect that sort of kindness, but perhaps Jake has gotten through to him?
“You got some damn nerve…” Quaritch sighed.
“Kill me then.” Spider bit back.
“…whatever.” The recom decided. “This implosion was a matter of time. Good thing you blew it up before someone important came here for a checkup.”
An awkward silence nestled itself between them, and, in his périphérie, the blonde noticed his enemy open and close his mouth, trying to get some sort of question out, but seemingly not knowing if it was worth voicing.
“Spit it out.” Socorro rolled his eyes.
“…back there, as I pried those damn doors, you flinched when I pulled out the knife…” Quaritch spoke, breaking silence. “Like an abused dog or something—no offense—I’ve just…never seen you like this. Do you...” He breathed, ears pinned down and eyes going soft, wide at the heartbreaking possibility. “Think I’ll hurt y’a?” Every syllable feeling like a knife on his tongue.
“What? N-no.” Spider shook his head, not turning towards the Mangkwan warrior, staying firmly planted in the glowing moss, staring out at the sea, somewhat obstructed by the burning remnants of RDA machinery. “It’s not about you.”
Miles minutely breathed out, ever so slightly relieved. “Then what?”
Spider took so long responding the recom almost assumed he spaced out and didn’t hear, but the twitch of his shoulder showed otherwise. There was great turmoil brewing in his son’s soul and the inner conflict became more and more apparent with each moment. He couldn’t let out the words.
Spider threw his head back, sucking a deep breath and catching a glimpse of his father’s smudged Ash People paint. A twisted version of what he always wanted him to become. “Forget it. Ts’ not important.”
“Clearly it is.” Quaritch, damn him to the coldest pits of hell, was once again prodding with his questions; just one of many personality quirks Socorro loathed about his father.
He hated how said prodding caused the dam in his soul to crack at the seams.
“I don’t…” He started, trying to come up with a refusal or excuse. Anything. “You won’t understand. It’s just not about you, okay?”
Finally, the bastard stopped…but Socorro, for some Eywa damned reason, didn’t.
The word came out on its own; he hadn’t meant to say it, but something deep down craved to get the burden off his chest. The secret he felt obligated not to reveal to anyone, not even Kiri. The early morning in the forest. His knees scraping the rock as he was forced to kneel.
Miles perked up immediately, alert, keeping quiet but waiting for Socorro to elaborate.
“It’s personal.” The blonde barely kept tears from forming. For three weeks after the battle at the cove of the ancestors, he kept his mouth shut and covered for Toruk Makto because he was a hero. What did it matter that he almost— “You won’t get it.”
The cryptic nature of Spider’s words was starting to get on the recom’s nerves. He wasn’t one for guessing games, much less when it was his son implying that Jake did something that made him terrified of the mere sound of a blade getting unsheathed, so he scooted closer on the moss and carefully grasped the boy’s shoulder. “Kid, you’re freaking me out.” He chuckled, but there was no amusement in that sound.
Miles was the enemy, Miles was the man who, with no remorse, burned down a good third of Awa’atlu. He was a beast worthy of a painful, slow death, and undeserving of Spider’s attachment, but he felt it nonetheless, and being so far from everyone he knows, caught in a vulnerable moment, this same beast felt like the only person Socorro could open up to without consequence.
And oh how badly he wanted to open up to someone. The burden of his secret was getting unbearable.
“When we flew back from Bridgehead,” Spider finally managed, his shoulders trembling slightly with every breath. “He told Neytiri to land. And I,” He barked out a breathy laugh. “I just wanted to go to the bathroom. It was so stupid..” He sniffed.
Miles’s face hardened in growing concern, dying with impatience. He was now facing Spider full on, his acid gaze looking for clues in his son’s doe eyes.
“He told me to come with him. We went to the forest. Just the two of us…”
Quaritch‘s face went pale, eyes wide like that of a yerik in the headlights. It was so sudden even Spider got caught off guard. It seemed as though the man already constructed the rest of the possible story in his head, but what it was — Socorro had no idea, so he pushed on. He needed to get this off his chest, to anyone.
“I was so stupid…” A single tear fell. “All these years I held out this dumb hope. It was so stupid!”
“The hell did he do?” Quaritch growled out, louder than intended and with a biting tone to match. It was harsh, but brought Spider back on track. For a reason he could not explain, the sudden sternness made him feel compelled to confess.
“He didn’t do it-but he almost-” Spider defended the man, not knowing why. For some reason, Quaritch was now checking his condition, focused eyes rapidly travelling from his face, to his neck, arms, torso and legs, as if he was looking for an injury. “I was too dangerous. My blessing-he didn’t want RDA finding me again.”
Quaritch grew still, visibly piecing it all together. For a minute, his expression was blank.
“He tried to get rid of me.” The blonde lowered his head, looking at the ground. “That’s why, okay?” He suddenly looked back at Quaritch. “You happy now?!” He then shrugged off his hand.
After a quiet moment of the recom struggling to grasp what he’d just heard, a frown coloured his face. “That’s…” He struggled for an appropriate reaction. “Fucked up.”
“Yeah but…I get why he did it. I do.” Spider let the rest of the tears fall. “I really do…he was-Teyam’s dead, and we were all in a shitty place, I just gotta move on.”
Quaritch quietened once more, too quiet, contemplating something, not hiding his upset, which Socorro didn’t see often. His father looked genuinely hurt.
“I ain’t known he could go that far…” He shrugged.
“Me neither. He-he prayed for me though.” He added, not knowing why.
“Oh, well that changes everything.” Quaritch begun spitefully. “I was about to get upset, but now? Now I’m okay. Thank god he prayed.”
“Cuz everyone knows the number one rule of slitting your children’s throat is that you have to pray first. Thank fuck he didn’t forget.” He smiled. There was nothing genuine about it.
“What a relief. Was afraid you’d say he ain’t prayed before killin’ y’a.” The man’s smile has turned to a grin. “I should thank him. You know where he is right now?”
“M-miles…” Spider uttered, alarm bells ringing in his head. After months in captivity, he’d learned to recognise the warning signs of Quaritch’s spiralling a mile away.
“Where is he?” Miles cocked his head to the side, waiting for a response, as if talking to a toddler.
“He didn’t do it.” Socorro repeated. “Remember? He didn’t do it!”
“Where is he.” The recom got close, his grin fading into that haunting smirk Quaritch gave people as a sign not to get on his nerves. He’d never in a million years think to hurt the boy, and Spider knew that, but the expression still unnerved him.
“Stop it.” Spider demanded, trying to sound firm.
But Miles only shook his head, jaw clenched. “It’s Awa’atlu, isn’t it? He’s there while you’re out here, busting your ass on a recon mission? That it?”
“For fuck’s…” The blonde breathed. “I tell you one thing, one, and this is how you get?”
“I knew it.” Quaritch growled, entering one of his selective deafness episodes. “That son of a bitch.”
“I’ll teach ‘im a lesson.” The man spoke lowly, like a killer, like a predator, like a monster he has always been. “I’m gonna make it slow.” He dragged out the last word.
“No! I don’t want you to-listen to me!” Spider grabbed his father’s shoulders.
“Son, don’t you worry.” Miles reassured. “I’ll fix it, okay? You just come with me and sit back and I’ll bring you that fucker’s head—”
“Do not. Kill him.” The blonde commanded. “I care about him. A LOT. He matters to my siblings. You do that, and I will NEVER forgive you.”
Finally, thank the allmother, his words went through this time, and Miles’s shoulders sagged like that of a dog who was cheated out of a walk in the park. “You serious?”
“Yes.” Spider’s brows furrowed. “Dont you dare hurt him.”
Quaritch looked at the ground, disappointed and clearly still angry. “After everything…you’ll really hate me if I kill him?”
“Forever.” Spider reinforced.
For another painfully long moment, neither of them spoke, but Socorro’s hands never left his father’s shoulders.
“…you shot me.” The recom looked back to his son. “You shot me but defend him???”
“Jake never burned a fucking village!” The boy reminded.
“He sure helped that one time though!” Miles raised his voice.
“FINE!” The man rose up and roared in Spider’s face, his voice echoing off the cliff and making a flock of birds fly off nearby trees.
Spider stiffed in shock, eyes met with Quaritch’s wild ones, his expression one of abject fury, but eventually, in the quietness, he breathed out a sharp growl, shoulders lowered in defeat. “Fine. But, don’t..” He breathed. “Tell me not to be angry about this.”
Now that the fury has simmered, all the recom got left with was upset and worry, his head twitching as he racked his war and combat-ridden brain for something to do, something to make this mess better, before dropping to his knees and, to both their surprise, pulling Socorro into an embrace.
Spider didn’t know what to do, heart beating like a jackhammer at sudden affection and softness from the same man who almost decided to kill his guardian minutes prior.
What do you do when your idiot father who never held you, actually holds you?
His very soul shook when he realised that he liked it. The familiar scent, the strong arms around him, holding him together. This is the reaction he needed from Miles from the start.
His mind screamed at him to push the murderous bastard away. He didn’t need his pity and certainly didn’t need his comfort.
But his heart knew the truth.
Trembling, tanned hands slowly inched upwards, under Quaritch’s armpits and landed on his back. Accepting this hug felt treacherous, and yet so very right, like a puzzle assembling itself.
Then, his mind recalled that horrible memory in the forest, when Jake threw that green blade into the bushes, ridden with guilt, and pulled Socorro into a hug instead. Just now, weeks later, it dawned on the boy how disgusting that felt.
Tears fell, shoulders shook once more and before Spider knew it, he wept. For the first time in years, he wept.
He didn’t know how long they stayed like this. It must have been mere minutes because the sun was still rising by the time Socorro tired himself out, head laying limply on dad’s shoulder, but his breakdown felt like hours. Quaritch’s hold never wavered though, ash-coated arms still firmly cradling him. Spider focused on Miles’s breathing, feeling air pass through his throat as he laid his chin on top of the boy’s head.
Could they stay like this forever? Pretty please?
Just as Spider’s inner child voiced this thought, his dad gently pulled away, looking into his eyes. Now, there was no upset left either, only all-consuming sadness. Quaritch looked deceivingly kind when he got like this.
Spider let him wipe off his tear-tracks, leaving tiny, dark paint-marks on sun-kissed skin.
“Son…” Miles breathed, and only now did Socorro notice that his eyes have gotten red.
Author’s notes: this is a shorter one I wrote on the go, just an idea I needed to get off my mind 😔
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