Chapter Text
"Goodnight kiddo," Norm gently said as he slowly closed the metal door of Spider's small room behind himself.
Norm and Max helped Spider decorate the room with some plants from outside, and painted some fluorescent fluid on the ceiling to make the nights pass easier and urge nightmares to stay away after Spider gathered the courage to tell them that he couldn't sleep in the room. That he didn't feel good anymore was left unsaid.
Didn't feel good was an understatement.
Spider couldn't fall asleep. Tossing and turning, all he could think about was what if he now went out to check one of the labs and it would be completely empty. Then he would run to check Norm's room, then Max's, Then Petra's.
All of them would be empty. Deserted. Cold. Lifeless.
Spider was alone, completely and utterly alone in his nightmares just like he was alone during the day.
He tightened his blanket around his shivering form. It was a light cover, never giving him enough warmth. On more nights than not he just lay in bed, miserable, praying to a God he didn't even know, for the morning to miraculously come sooner than expected.
The God never heard him though.
Spider was an anomaly, a dark spot on a white canvas, unwelcomed and frowned upon wherever he was.
He wasn't welcome in the labs -- all he was good for was ruining equipment and making a mess, disappointing Norm.
When he went out into the open, ironically, he was a threat. A demon. Dangerous and something to hate, something to push away.
He was tolerated but never welcomed.
Maybe Norm loved him. Maybe Jake did too.
But he sure as hell was never liked. Nothing he did could be good enough.
And maybe that was enough reason to cry.
And so cry, he did. At first small hiccups, then thise turned into whimpers and then full on sobs.
It felt good to finally let it out, to swim in his tears and his pain. To acknowledge how badly he was hurting.
Once his sobs quietened he slowly sat up, deciding to move, act, do anything with himself that wasn't associated with this godforsaken prison made out of metal and concreted.
---
Spider hated everything that had to do with what humans had built on Pandora. He might been born as a human but that didn't mean he was any less Na'vi than Kiri or Lo'ak.
He might not be Eywa's child.
He might never connect to the Great Mother -- Spider never had the luxury of that. Of having someone who loved you fully and unconditionally. A presence, a warmth you could talk to, confide in at any time, share all your troubles and sadness and worry.
Spider only had himself.
For a long time, he didn't think that was a problem. He didn't know any better.
He thought that growing up playing by yourself, talking to yourself, never getting attention above the bare minimum that was required for his survival was the norm.
That was until he met Neteyam and Kiri and Lo'ak.
When he saw how Neytiri and Jake would cradle them. Sing to them, play with them. How they didn't teach them things out of obligation but from a place of pure love and wonder.
How their face lit up when their kids got something right.
When Neteyam caught his first fish.
When Kiri first connected to the Spirit tree. When Lo'ak made his first necklace and gave it to Neytiri.
There was so much love and appreciation in these small gestures.
Things Spider could only dream of having, but deep down always knew would never get.
Along the years Spider made himself become immune to it all. He turned away, closed his eyes when the sorrow and pain became too unbearable. When the weight of knowing he would never be seen and be loved became too heavy.
Everyday he realized more and more of how much he was robbed of. Of how different his and the other kid's childhood was.
If there was one thing Spider learned to be good at, was hiding. He hid from Norm and the other scientists when he messed with some equipment. He hid when he didn't feel like having dinner.
He hid when he felt sick.
He hid when he felt like crying.
He hid when he felt like dying.
---
Spider took off his shirt and shorts. There was no need the have them on.
He painted a few strikes of blue over his face half-heartedly.
Did it matter if he looked like a Navi once he was gone forever?
Probably not.
Old habits were hard to brush away though.
He looked at his room that always felt more like a prison, one last time.
A picture Kiri gave him, one of the only few he had of her and Lo'ak. The three of them were smiling into the camera, Kiri making a goofy face while poking Spider's side playfully. Lo'ak was laughing trying to not shake the camera, and keeping Kiri and Spider's forms in the frame.
The memory lingered in Spider's mind, leaving a bitter trail, but nonetheless making a small smile appear on the boy's lips.
He took a deep breath as he picked up a bracelet Tuk made him. It was small, delicate, every bead was picked out carefully, aligned in a certain way, designed to fit his personality, Tuk had said.
That was until Neytiri had found out that Tuk was making the bracelet for Spider, and almost ripped it off his arms.
Spider shivered.
Yeah. This was the right thing to.
Spider secured his mask onto his face and slowly made his way out of his room, careful not to make any unnecessary sounds.
---
The nights of Pandora were one of the few things Spider thought he could never get bored of. It was like the whole forest was reborn, alive and in motion and yet still calm. It was very different from the daytime. The sounds and movements were more reserved, more cautious.
Preys were more on edge, and predators more quiet.
Spider was one of the preys. Always had been.
You don't belong here, he thought as he caressed a fruolescent branch.
It's time to go.
Something in his chest tightened and threatened to break at the weight these thoughts and words held, or from the weight they freed him from.
If he would go he wouldn't have to worry about anything anymore.
No more exo-pack. No more cold nights. No more eating food that only made him want to vomit it all back up.
No more Neytiri wanting to get rid of him.
No more Jake looking at him from far away, puzzled yet unwilling to help, blind to his pain.
No more Kiri.
No more Kiri.
Spider felt a single tear fall down his face as he stopped in his tracks, catching his breath.
He couldn't go without saying goodbye.
He couldn't go without seeing Kiri's face one last time.
He shook his heady trying to get his thoughts back in order. He needed to focus.
He needed a plan.
First see Kiri. And then- and then...
---
Spider had always been a skilled climber, ever since he was old enough to be let out into the open to explore Pandora's wilderness.
He quickly, more quickly than any Navi kid, learned how to walk in a way that would make no sound, to be a shadow, always on edge, always looking out for danger.
He was now more thankful for his skills than ever, they allowed him to be able to approach the Sullys hut without being detected by anyone.
He pulled the beads shielding the entrance the slightest bit apart, just enough to let him peak into the small space. Kiri was sleeping on the left side of the hut, on her right with Tuk and Loak. Neteyam was usually on Neytiri's and Jake's left, the parents sleeping closest to the entrance, shielding their kids, this small thing telling so much about how much they cared for them and wanted to protect them.
Spider kept his eyes focused on Kiri's curled up form, silently thanking her for all of the beautiful moments they've shared together. For all of the times she gave him a reason to keep going.
I'm sorry, Kiri, Spider thought, and his stomach sank. I can't do it anymore.
His face turning into a remorseful frown, he stepped back, away from the entrance.
He put the picture and bracelet down, along with a small knife Neteyam had gifted him back when they were small kids.
All of these were gifts he once treasured dearly but now they had no more use to him.
He grabbed his small pack, attached around his hips, containing the batteries of his exopack next.
He took one last deep breath before disconnecting the device.
His mask would allow him to breathe for a couple more minutes but then the inevitable would finally occur.
The demon's child would finally give up.
It's the way it was always meant to be. Neytiri was right. She'd been right all along.
Spider let his tears fall freely, allowing himself one last moment close to the Sullys, letting himself bask in the illusion of having a family before backing away into the dark depths of the forest.
---
He'd been running for a while, small feet quick on slippery moss, and yet he couldn't feel any negative affects. Well the mask was still on, he couldn't quite gather the courage to rip it off entirely yet, kind of just waiting for the air to run out by itself.
He suddenly stopped, realizing he reached the end of the territory of the Omatikaya clan.
Maybe he could rest here.
Yeah, sitting down sounded quite appealing right now. His side started to sting, the pressure building in his chest, squeezing, making him realize these were probably his last conscious seconds alive on Pandora.
He kept his eyes open, just taking in the forest, the sounds.
How the moss lit up under the weak touch of his hands, how the endless sky illuminated everything, making Spider feel like he might have been a part of something bigger all along.
Spider didn't want to think about his pain anymore. He just wanted peace. Undisturbed and endless peace.
And he would get it, he was now sure of it.
Spider found his peace.
His eyelids flickered then eventually closed.
---
Something white, silky and yet cloud-like engulfed him. It was warm and welcoming.
Spider felt comfortable, like he was always meant to be here, coddled and taken care of. Safe.
"My poor, poor child," a deep, gentle voice murmured from the distance, disturbing Spider's train of thought. Or was it coming straight from next to his ear? It was impossible to locate the sound, the voice was everywhere and nowhere at the same time.
It didn't have a face nor a form, nor a tone, but Spider felt that it was strong. Powerful. Mighty.
It reminded him of Kiri.
Kiri.
Spider suddenly terrified, cold dread washing over him, making him sober up, wanted to sit up to run, to rip away this whiteness.
What did he do. Oh god. Oh Eywa.
Oh no.
"I hear you, you know," the voice chuckled, the sound playful, yet holding some deeper meaning behind it.
"I can always hear you. When you are at your lowest. When you cry. When you're alone. When you're evil. When you hurt others. When you hurt yourself." The voice paused as if it was painful to say the next words. "When you want to die. I hear you. I listen. I cry with you."
Spider felt his head start to spin, memories of dreams and reality mixed together flashing before his eyes.
"I'm sorry," he managed to croak out, desperately wanting to grab at something, something to ground him, but all his attempts were in vain. He was somehow detached from his body, far far away from everything he had ever known.
"I see you fighting. I know you more than anyone else in the entire universe."
"You know why?" The voice didn't wait for an answer, not that Spider could have given one. "Because you are my child. You are the target of my love. I love you Spider."
If he could, Spider would give into the calling and break down infront of the Great Mother, gut wrenching sobs taking over him, curling up and begging for her forgiveness.
He didn't really know for what he should apologize for exactly, unable to recall specific events from his life, everything becoming blurry and meshed together.
He did something bad. That was for sure. He's been bad.
He's bad.
He was born bad.
"You are not bad. You are good, Spider."
Eywa said, now Spider was sure that the voice belonged to her.
"I-," Spider began but the words kept getting away from him just as he was about to pronounce them.
"Never forget how much I love you." The mother lastly said, and then Spider felt her pull away, the embrace he was in loosening, letting go of him, dropping him.
But the fall never came.
---
Spider opened his eyes.
He was sitting at the same spot he lost his consciousness, his mask clutched in his hand.
His mask.
He brought up a hand against his face. His bare face.
He wasn't wearing the mask.
He was breathing without the mask.
Before he could begin to panic, a strange, yet so familiar voice swept through him.
"Use it well," came the farewell.
It felt like a kiss on the forehead from someone who loved you so deeply it couldn't be expressed in words.
It was a gift, a second chance for a kid who deserved better all his life.