Work Text:
Spider wonders if there’s some second version of himself, another universe, a different timeline that diverged in the moment that he tumbled off a branch and into the arms of the RDA. Or maybe he’s the one that split off and that’s why he’s caught in a labyrinth, spiraling downward in a cyclical path that repeats until… he doesn’t know, doesn’t want to find out the worse things that can happen to him in a third revolution.
That is how he knows something has to change this time. He’s the only one that can alter his fate, since no one else is willing to shift it for him. Escaping will take something drastic. What that is, he isn’t sure of yet. He doesn’t have the energy or bandwidth to make considerations, or finetune a plan, he can just feel how worn down he is. Down to his soul, in the echoes of pain from wounds unseen, the trauma unresolved.
He’s been here before, running from something much bigger than him, fearing for the consequences of getting caught. Everything that has happened in the last week is too familiar, to the point that he can’t brush it off anymore.
Hunted in the forest, knocked unconscious, only to wake within those impenetrable walls. Forceful hands, bruising grips, locking him into restraints he could only twist against. Last time, it was the neuroscanner, burning through his mind, testing his resolve. Yesterday had been the tests, more intrusive than the previous ones were, samples cut out, skin stitched together as if he wouldn’t feel the loss, cameras and tubes tearing past resistance.
Quaritch in his cell again, burrowing into his head the way the machine couldn’t, offering him the dogtags of a dead man. But Spider had altered his path then, ruining their plans for him, finding his own way out.
And still, where had he ended up but under Neytiri’s knife again? First at his throat while he tried to keep himself still, not wanting a heavy breath or sudden movement to cause any drastic choices. Then, waiting for that blade to plunge into him, from above or behind, it didn’t matter. The anticipation, not knowing, was the worst of it.
Where he had begged for Kiri’s life, over and over, before, when he was the only one in danger, he accepted his damnation with ease. Why was he so eager to serve himself on a platter, to accept Jake’s determination? Maybe it was to keep up the image of an easy, pliable, tough kid, for his approval. Or was it something else?
This chase, he can’t let it end like it had those other times. Pumping his legs twice as fast as the person behind him to make up for their longer strides, letting adrenaline push him forward through throbbing injuries, darting through sharp leaves, ignoring their sting and the blood that beaded from fine cuts. It’s hard to focus on the trees and roots in front of him, when the pounding footsteps and shouts sound so much like the Recoms.
Of course he had tried to run before, and he was caught each time, dragged back onto a path that led him to this. They won’t catch him, not again, his mind is made up.
The terrain disagrees, trees quickly giving way to open air and a rocky cliffside. He has to skid to a stop before he makes it to the edge, unsure of where to go from here. Continuing to run along the border will do nothing but tire him out and lead to his capture anyway, but he doubts trying to climb down will end any better.
“Spider, wait!”
He whips his head back to the treeline, where Jake is stumbling out of the forest, coming to his own stop at the way Spider throws his hands up as if to push him back. He’s left as the midpoint between the trees and the edge, out of options.
“I’m sorry, kid, let me just,” Jake heaves for air, as out of breath as he is. “It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you.”
Yeah, a few weeks ago, he had heard that no one will ever hurt you again. It was a lie then, not growing anymore true. The most human part of him still has to know.
“Why?”
Jake tries to get closer but Spider counters every step with one of his own, causing him to glance anxiously at the drop behind him and concede, putting his own hands up to show there’s no more knife clenched in a white-knuckled fist.
“We thought—, I was wrong, okay?” He stammers. “I thought that I couldn’t protect you, like I— but that doesn’t matter. Sullies stick together, right? If the RDA tries to grab you again, we will fight.”
“W-what?”
“They want you alive, kid. That’s why you jumped in front of me back there. Because they need you to replicate what Kiri did. If they can figure that out, nothing is stopping them from taking us over.”
Spider nodded his head absently, understanding. If he was being honest, this was better than the thoughts that had been plaguing him since Jake ordered him to kneel. They didn’t want to kill him because Quaritch was alive or because they were tired of him. He was a liability to them, if the RDA wouldn’t stop hunting him down, and to the Na’vi as a whole.
With that in mind, he took a step back, and another, watching as Jake faltered in whatever he was still saying. He was right, Neytiri too, since he was sure that was who came up with the solution in the first place.
“Where are you going, kiddo, stop,” Jake tried to step forward but it was too late.
He was going to fall again, feet stuttering and arms flailing as he met open air instead of more rock.
“You are right. And I won’t put you in danger, Jake. Not any of you.” He tried to pull off a wobbly smile. “I’m tired anyway. This is better, yeah?
The sky would be the last thing he saw at least, a little blocked by Jake’s frantic figure reaching for him, clawing at nothing, but a clear blue sky all the same. And when his body shattered against rock, he could be grateful that it wasn’t tied down in a painfully white metal room.
Instead of slamming into a boulder a hundred feet down, something slammed into him, knocking every atom of breath from his lungs.
What the fuck.
“What are you doing, child?” Neytiri shrieked. “What is this?”
Spider could only stare confusedly as he choked, gasping for air, wide eyes on her distressed face. In seconds they were landing roughly, mere feet from where he had let himself fall just moments ago.
“Oh, thank god.”
Jake’s voice coming closer, Neytiri pushing him upward to sit up, seeing his outstretched arms. It was too much, despair tightening a noose around his neck. No. When darkness threatened to overtake him, Spider let it, ignoring alarmed voices and insistent hands tugging at him.