Chapter Text
Dreams have always come too easy to you.
Flashes of nonsensical images, of bright colors and overwhelming emotion, of a hastily carved casket and a packed funeral, of trees too large for the dying planet that Earth has become. Of fungus growing, spreading, consuming, healing. Killing. A delicate balance.
They told you you wouldn’t dream. The fuckers promised that the five years it took to get to Pandora would be devoid of dreams, barely noticeable as you woke up orbiting a strange new planet. Maybe that was just part of the sales pitch.
You gasped for breath as the med tech removed you from your sleeping pod aboard the ship, your heart racing as a light shined in your eyes. The man was saying something, reading numbers, concern growing in his voice as he urged you to breathe deep.
Ok, in through the nose, out through the mouth. In, out, feel the air around your toes, the flex of your muscles, work your way up…
A respirator and a scream filled your vision as memories were violently forced to the front of your mind. Your screams. Your mom’s broken respirator, the grey-green toxin clinging to her skin as you were dragged away before the flames of what used to be your shared lab could reach you.
BREATHE. In, out, in…
“—-Quaritch,” he said as he read off your chart and you nodded as you buried the panic deep, deep down, and prayed it’d stay there. The tech did a double take at the confirmation of the name but you didn’t have the time or the energy to explain. Good to know your father’s reputation still holds strong here; it’ll be that much more difficult to avoid the man.
You did your best to file away the information he was spewing at you as your panic attack slowed, grounding techniques in space predictably more difficult than you really considered but still doable. But the human body is resilient. You let yourself follow the instructions instinctively as you poured your mental energy into not losing your goddamn mind so quickly and the next time you were aware of yourself, you were in a shuttle to the planet, a familiar - no, that’s not right, unfamiliar - mask in your hands and ready to be secured.
This was nothing like the respirators you used in your lab. Nothing at all. Nope.
Someone was shouting orders for how to equip the masks as he walked down the rows of passengers, a mixed bag of soldiers and the occasional researcher. It helped that he was referring to the masks as exo-packs; it let you distance yourself even further from the thoughts that you’d thought you’d processed, you’d already grieved. For years, you’d grieved. Enough years for the RDA to recruit you and grow a brand new avatar, for you to learn as much as you could of the local language, for your father to try and buy back your love with the research funding of your dreams.
And yet, all it took was one drug-induced dream to drag it all right back to the surface.
“Remember people, you lose your mask, you’re unconscious in 20 seconds and you’re dead in four minutes! Let’s nobody be dead today, it looks bad on my report.”
The man next to you was struggling a bit with the straps on the mask and you motioned to show him how to seal it. Yea, super unfamiliar with this type of respirator. Never seen it before.
He fiddled with the face plate as it instantly fogged up and you reached over to release the valve underneath that would let the air actually cycle, hands reaching it at the same time and he let out a little thanks as his vision cleared.
“May want to learn to do that before we’re actually on the killer planet,” you said with as much of a smile as the recently mentally distraught could manage.
“Nah, I’ll just stick with you,” he said, hand held out to shake. “Sully. Jake Sully.”
“Amanita,” you reached out your own to introduce yourself using the nickname your father hated, fingertips brushing as turbulence threw you into your restraints, abandoning the formality to instead grip on to the shoulder straps keeping you from flying across the cargo hold. It was his turn to smile at you, amused and unfazed by the rough motions as the ship finally landed.
“Let’s go people, move, move!” The same authoritative figure from before began ushering people off the ship, your own seatbelt off in record time as light streamed in from the outside.
So much light. So much clear air. God, what you would give to be able to breathe it in your own body.
You glanced to check on Sully and saw him waiting for people to filter past him, a grimace plastered to his face as you raised a brow with an unspoken question.
“I’ll catch up,” he motioned with his head for you to go and you shook your own in disagreement as the man shouting orders made his way over to you two.
”Do not make me wait on you marine,” he said to Sully without so much of a glance in your direction. Interesting.
But not as interesting as the wheelchair Jake had popped open and maneuvered into, his pack slung over his head like he’d done this a million times.
“Just waiting on Nita, here, sir,” he said with a cheeky smirk. Nita, huh? A nickname of a nickname. You liked it.
You kept pace with him as the two of you hustled to the main hall. Well, you hustled. Jake kept stopping to look around and, as much as you wanted to take it all in as well, you didn’t think getting trampled by one of the heavily armed robotic suits would be worth it. Two soldiers waited at the entrance, the judgement not even a little concealed as they eyed Jake.
“What’re you two limpdicks staring at?” He asked without missing a beat and you nearly choked on your own spit. You’d spent a fair amount of time around soldiers in the years your parents were still together, so you were no stranger to crass language. In fact, you were old friends with a myriad of curse words. But the instant wittiness caught you off guard and you were suddenly glad you’d stuck around to witness it.
“Seen a lotta guys leave this place in a wheelchair,” one of them said as he stared down his nose at the man. “Never seen anybody show up in one. And what are you, his little caretaker?” He directed at you.
Anger rolled through you, a surge of protectiveness for your newly acquired friend, but Jake nudged you before you could do something stupid like tell these assholes your name. Starting out on a new planet by trying to throw around the weight of a man you didn’t even like was probably not the best move.
“Let’s go Nita, these two mall cops have a door to guard.”
You trailed after him with a final glare at both men, following the markings to the debrief area.
“…you are on Pandora, ladies and gentlemen.” A familiar voice instructed the room of new recruits and your breath caught for a moment, your steps faltering. “Respect that fact every second of every day.”
He was different from the last time you saw him. Harder, more vacant. And there was a new scar going down the side of his face cutting into his hairline, three deep gashes that could only be attributed to the local wildlife. His harsh gaze met yours as you and Jake crossed the threshold, a disapproving scowl at your tardiness that brought you more joy than it should have. The two of you hung towards the back of the room as your father continued his speech, his southern accent a bit heavier.
”Out beyond that fence every living thing that crawls, flies, or squats in the mud wants to kill you and eat your eyes for jujubes.” Colorful. “We have an indigenous population of humanoids here called the Na’vi. They’re fond of arrows dipped in a neurotoxin which can stop your heart in one minute. We operate - we live - at a constant threat condition yellow.”
You racked your brain for the different military conditions and determined that to be a very tense existence of being.
“As head of security, it’s my job to keep you alive. I will not succeed - not with all of you. If you wish to survive, you need a strong mental attitude, you need to follow procedure…”
You tried your best to not doze off as the safety briefing continued, as he reviewed the various wildlife and fauna that would undoubtedly kill a human being, but none of this was new information for you. You’d been studying for this trip since the moment the RDA approached you with the offer.
You had been putting in requests with the government since before the accident, you and your mother eager to test out the effect that Pandora’s extensive mycelium system could have on the pollutants that were slowly killing all life on earth. You’d had promising results from the samples you were able to access through bribes and some slightly illegal smuggling operations, but no one had taken the two of you seriously until it was too late for her to join.
Part of you suspected your father had something to do with that.
The meeting dispersed and you turned to Jake as your father got wrapped up in the crowd.
”Well soldier, I’m off to the bio-lab,” you said as you stood to make your getaway.
”What a coincidence.” He followed you out and you shot him a glance.
“Thought you were a marine?”
A lanky man nearly ran straight into as he rushed to keep up with the two of you, clearly out of breath as he readjusted his large pack. You cursed as you steadied him and yourself, feeling a supportive hand on your lower back that kept you from toppling completely.
“Hey! Hi, so sorry,” the man said as he stepped away. “Norm! I’m Norm,” he held out his hand to you and Jake both in greeting.
“Amanita.” The skepticism was prevalent as you shook his hand and he moved on to the man next to you.
“Ah, like the death cap mushroom! I can’t wait to hear how you got that name. Or were you born with it? Did your parents… Right, never mind. And you’re Jake, right? Tom’s brother? You look just like him.” Norm was talking quickly as you all continued your trek down the hall, neither you nor Jake looking overly enthused at the newcomer. “Sorry, I went through avatar training with him. He was a great guy. Funny. It was a big shock to all of us.”
You made a mental note and filed that info away for later; didn’t seem like the best time to pry into the trauma of a man you met thirty minutes ago.
“And duh! Obviously you look like him. I mean, if you weren’t genetically identical, you wouldn’t be taking over his avatar.”
While Jake was clearly not enjoying this conversation, you were momentarily grateful for Norm’s need to spew any and all info that came to his mind; really helped you skip a lot of awkward getting to know you questions.
“That’s why I’m here,” he said as you three made your way through the maze of the compound. You were so eager to escape any interactions with your father that you’d barely looked at any signs; hopefully the other two know where they’re going.
”And the younger Quartich!” Fuck. “The colonel's own daughter on our team. I bet it’s nice to be reunited.”
”Uh huh.” He quickly stopped that line of questioning and let the three of you proceed the rest of the way to the Bio lab in awkward silence.
You were in awe at the sight of your avatar as it was unpacked and checked over by the lab techs. One of the more senior scientists, Max, was giving a run down to Jake about the human and Navi DNA splicing that went into growing them, but you tuned them out the moment you saw the label on yours.
They were fucking huge. Logically, you knew the Na’vi were 8 feet tall. But knowing and seeing were two very different things. It was limber and catlike in appearance, the face yours but not, small blue streaks and lines adding dimension and acting as a natural camouflage for Pandora. It was remarkable.
You placed a hand on the tank, a grin tugging at your face. It was happening. It was really happening.
The three of you were led to the link room not long after and Max had you all doing your first video log to get in the habit of it. You ran through it at light speed, the thoughts pouring out of you as you spoke to no one in particular, only to be interrupted by Max grabbing you to meet Grace Augustine.
The woman, the myth, the legend. The pioneer of Na’vi research herself. Shouting for a cigarette.
“Isn’t that a fire hazard?” You ask under your breath. Max ignored you as he walked towards the grumpy woman with a purpose.
”And here she is, Cinderella back from the ball. Grace, I’d like you to meet Norm Spellman, Ja—“
”Norm,” she cut Max off. “I hear good things about you. How’s your Na’vi?”
You were surprised to find your own studies had paid off as you understood what he said clear as day.
”May the All Mother smile upon our first meeting.”
”Not bad,” Grace replied in the local language. “You sound a little formal.”
”There is still much to learn.”
“And you?” She asked, skipping over Jake completely and addressing you directly. “You must be the mycologist. Your nickname is a little on the nose. How’s your Na’vi?”
You stood a little straighter at being addressed by your profession and not by your relation to the man so many feared.
“Five years of learning, but I’m sure it’ll come more naturally as we use it.” Grace gave an approving nod. Jake sat uncomfortably and confused in the center of all of this. “Maybe we should switch to English though. For, uh, ease.”
“Yea, speaking of,” Max finally butted in. “Grace, this is Jake Sul—“
”I know who you are.” She was cold as she finally looked down at Jake. Not like the soldiers from before. It didn’t seem on the outside to be about his disability; her glances at his tattoos and his haircut was enough to confirm for you that there was no love lost between her and the soldiers on this planet.
”I don’t need you. I need your brother. You know, the PhD who trained three years for this mission.”
Harsh.
”He’s dead. I know it’s a big inconvenience to everyone.”
”How much lab training have you had? Ever run a gas chromatograph?”
”No.” Jake seemed unbothered as she grilled him, clearly used to being underestimated.
”Any actual lab work at all?”
”I think I dissected a frog once.”
You bit your lip to repress your smile as Grace turned heel on Max. You understood her frustration, you really did. You’d seen first hand how poor lab etiquette and stupid mistakes could be catastrophic. But it can be learned, and she was taking this out on the wrong person. He didn’t ask for this to happen. You don’t think.
”You see? You see? They’re pissing on us without even the courtesy of calling it rain.” She stormed off towards the exit. “I’m going to Selfridge.”
Max chased after her, shouting back instructions for you all to show up in the morning. It was tense for a moment as the three of you looked around, unsure what to do now.
“Well that went well,” Jake said and you didn’t hide your laugh this time.
You spent a bit of time exploring and managed to find a sad excuse for a library tucked into a far corner of base, sending a quick ping to your one and only alien-planet friend to meet up. This was the perfect place to avoid the wide eyes of the soldiers and obvious reporting they were doing back to your father. You brushed an unhealthy amount of dust off of the singular couch and perused the books a bit.
And then you heard it: the name that you reserved only for legal documents at this point, the name that your father was adamant in calling you if your mother was to be believed. A scowl found your face immediately as he spoke it.
“How are you settling in?”
Of course the fucker found you. Guess it was unavoidable. You were still amazed by how silent such an incredibly large man could be. Like a goddamn panther stalking its prey.
You turned to face your father, his shoulders visibly stiff at your disapproving glare.
”Swell.” Your words dripped with unconcealed sarcasm as you plopped onto the couch, the dust you hadn’t managed to get rid of puffing into the air. Don’t cough, don’t cough Amanita, you’re trying to look cool and put together right now dammit.
”Good. I’ll make sure I have some of my best men on your expedition team.” You hummed in response, unimpressed by this low effort attempt at a conversation. “How uh, how have you been?”
It was unsettling to see such a confident man stumble over his words. Suspicious. In the ten years since he’d left you and your mother, not once had he reached out. No calls, no letters, not even a ‘hey I’m alive.’ The man who’d sat with you in full camo and have tea parties, who’d pull strings to take you to see some of the last living plants on Earth, the one who’d take you exploring in the city was long gone. You decided it was better to think of him as dead long before your mom actually was. In your mind, you’d been an orphan for at least five years now, and no half assed check-ins would change that. He made his choice about you many years ago, so you decided to put him out of his misery.
“Let’s not do this, dad. You don’t need to pretend like you care about me and I can just focus happily on my research.”
“That’s not fair, kid—“
You laughed hard at that, and enough that he had to pause for you to stop. He looked like he wanted to say more, but your aversion to handling emotions was firmly genetic.
“Alright. You know where to find me if you want to talk, kid.”
Not likely.