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Lo'ak knew it. Somehow, somewhere in his very soul, he knew it. That Neteyam's death was his fault.
Not some sad war event.
Not some unfortunate game of fate.
His fault.
He didn’t even needed to hear it from someone else to know that everybody thought the same thing.
Kiri—he saw it in the way she couldn’t, the first days, look him in the eye. His own father, which wasn’t a surprise coming from him, but still hurt as hell—in the way he was even harsher than before when he spoke to him. His own mother—in the way she completely lost herself in her grief, her broken scream still resonated in his ears at night. Even Tuk was more distant.
Tsireya was the only one that didn’t made him feel that way. He could just exist in her eyes without feeling that burden on his shoulders. Everything was easier around her. He was just Lo’ak again.
After all, it probably wasn’t a surprise to his family, as his father had been warning him that he would eventually get his brother killed. And, as always, he was right.
He had always been the flaw of the family, really.
Neteyam was the firstborn, Neytiri’s baby, the first son of Toruk Makto, the perfect child destined to be the same mighty warrior as their father, to walk in his footsteps, to watch over his brother and sisters, to keep them safe and sound when their parents couldn’t. And he did a fantastic job keeping them alive, didn’t he? He even sacrificed himself for Spider. Even his death was heroic.
Kiri was the miracle child, the most wanted child, the very girl on their father's mentor, smart and the embodiment of kindness itself, the gifted child, Eywa’s will.
Tuk was the last one, the spark and joy of the family, too young to be held responsible, too young to be reprimanded, just old and free enough to explore the world, but not to feel the weight of it on her shoulders. Or so he hoped.
And Lo’ak was just Lo’ak. Not the firstborn, not the miracle child, not the last one. Too reckless and stubborn. Not exactly Na’vi, as his “alien” nickname reminded him. Not really sky people either — not that he wanted to but still, he was a bit too blue and tall for that.
He didn’t needed to hear it from someone to know it was true : all of this was his fault. And yet he never thought he would. He thought it would always be a tacit admission and truth, weighing on his whole family.
Payakan was all that was left of a brother to him. Except Spider, obviously, but that was slightly different. Their very souls were connected. So, the sole fact of imagining him outcasted and shunned even further, and all of that for what? The fact that he protected them? That infuriated Lo’ak. And maybe he had taken it a bit too far. Maybe he had spoken when it wasn’t his turn. Maybe he had faced not only the leaders of the Metkayina clan but also the Tulkun’s matriarch, but it was fair. For once, it was for the right reason, he knew deep down that he was doing the right thing.
And, still, he was standing alone in front of the whole assembly. Still, his father’s eyes looked at him in disappointment and disapproval. Still, Tsireya was the only one that tried to stand up for him, even in front of her own family. Still, his father dragged him out of the council, as if he was a disgrace and shame for their family and the whole clan. And, still, Lo’ak couldn’t help but believe him.
Lo’ak walked ahead of Jake, his heart beating so fast in his chest that it felt like he was going to throw up. And as his father started speaking, that feeling grew stronger and stronger.
“You never stand up for me!” Lo’ak shouted, unbothered by people from the council hearing him.
The anger only grew in him, that feeling of injustice, the same that he felt his entire life. Of always being the second one, always being not enough this or too much that. Not enough for him, not enough him. And, as he started hearing his heart beating loudly in his temples, Lo’ak was almost not listening to his father anymore. Until… Until he started talking about Payakan.
“He is a loose cannon. He’s just like you.” Jake looked at Lo’ak with anger in his eyes, shaking slightly his head in disapproval as he continued. His son felt like he had been punched in the chest. “In fact, if you hadn’t gone to him in the first place, if you hadn’t disobeyed orders then your brother would still be…” He caught himself at the very end, before finishing his sentence, but the harm was done. He could see it in Lo’ak’s eyes. He regretted it instantly, but it was too late, wasn’t it? The words were already out there, sinking his son’s heart to his feet, shattering it, making his eyes water, shortening his breath. Lo’ak felt betrayed, his worst fear finally becoming real right in front of him.
“It wasn’t my fault! Dad… No…” He started sobbing, tears falling from his eyes as he pushed his father away from him. “That’s not my fault!” He screamed, almost tearing his vocal cords. And before he could reply anything, Lo’ak ran away.
Jake stayed behind. He couldn’t get himself to follow Lo’ak. A part of him wanted to. But he stayed there. Watching how he had messed up, and how he didn’t know how to repair what was broken between them. It wasn’t new, this wall between them. He had tried before, but he couldn’t get his words right, he couldn’t get his message across their two worlds. He somehow had never felt more human than right now, and Lo’ak was like this other world that he couldn’t understand, nor speak the language of. Jake kept making things worse than they were before. So, instead of following his son, he looked deeply into the dark ocean, slightly shimmering, as his own eyes, trying to get it together before having to face Neytiri.
As he walked in their family marui, he saw Neytiri, and, suddenly, he inhaled deeply as if he had been holding his breath all the way there. Even though he knew they were going to have a conversation about what had happened, he couldn’t help but feel more at peace around her.
“Ma’Jake…” She started, and somehow Jake knew exactly where it was going, where she was heading. He knew her, maybe better than anyone, he knew every thought that crossed her mind, every worry that sank her heart. And he didn’t wanted to go where she was going, because he was not sure how he was supposed to, and the lack of knowledge made him feel like he was “Jake Sully”, the idiot that couldn’t even walk, taking the role of his dead brother on a mission on another planet. He hated that Jake. Especially due to the fact that he knew that deep inside that, despite everything, he was still that Jake.
“Go talk with him.”
“I don’t have anything to say to him.” Jake sighed almost immediately, before sitting down, shaking his head ‘no’. It wasn’t completely true. It was more of a ‘I don’t know what to say to him.’.
Neytiri looked at him in profound sadness. He felt like her heart shattered again, almost just like that horrible day. Her voice began to sound far more hoarse, less contained.
“Jake.” She almost hissed, her ears lowering, before looking directly into his eyes, so much so that he stopped everything he was doing to listen to her. “Go or you will lose another son.”
That hit harder that he wouldn’t have thought, harder that he wouldn’t known. He looked at her almost without breathing, just thinking of what she just said.
“Don’t make me lose my only son.” She murmured, her eyes filling with tears. “Go. Speak. With him.”
Jake knew that she was right. Of course she was. This time, he needed to be brave, for her, but also for him and his son. His eyes were searching for hers, as he slowly moved closer to her, before taking her hand into his, squeezing it hard and yet so gently. Neytiri looked up to him. They didn’t need to speak to understand each other. She rubbed her thumb against his hand, showing how much she loved him through everything they had been and had to go through.
And Jake would have never imagined how right she was, how well she knew her baby boy.
He had killed his brother. No matter what happened, he had to live with that for the rest of his life.
Neteyam had been the center of his life for the longest he could remember, always running behind him, always smiling and laughing together. He is, or was his best friend.
And he killed him.
Lo’ak felt that he couldn’t live with that. Not now. Not ever. He just couldn’t go on, getting up everyday with that horrible feeling and weight. He just wanted this to stop. Lo’ak wanted to go back with Neteyam, to find him again, to race with their ikrans again, as if nothing of all of this had ever happened.
Knees down in the sand, lost somewhere not so far from the Metkayina village, his hands suddenly moved to the trigger, pointing the gun right at his chin, his hands shaking. He didn’t know when exactly he took this gun, or how he ended up there. But it didn’t matter anymore.
Soon all of this would be over. Soon he could return to Neteyam. Soon everything would be alright for everyone, especially his family.
Soon.
“Lo’ak.”
The voice of his father resonated in the dark of the night.
Lo’ak froze for a second, before throwing the gun as far from him as possible, in survival mode. And fear crawled through his skin, as his heart dropped. Again. If his father found the gun, he would kill him. He was breathing loudly, as if every breath hurt, because he didn’t thought he would take those breaths. He thought it would be over by now. It should have.
“Look…” Started his father, slowly walking towards him, without even realizing what tragic moment he had just interrupted. “I didn’t wanted to take it that far…”
Of course he wouldn’t apologize, thought Lo’ak. The great Toruk Makto couldn’t possibly be wrong. His hopelessness turned into anger again.
“You…” Lo’ak didn’t even knew what he wanted to say, or what to start with.
“I know I have been harsh on you recently.” Said his father, as he finally came closer to him.
A fact. That was solely a fact. Lo’ak didn’t answer.
“But you need to understand when and where you can intervene or not, Lo’ak.”
A blame, of course. Everything eventually turned into blaming, when it came to him. And, now, Lo’ak couldn’t take it anymore. He stood up suddenly, his voice bursting out of his mouth.
“You never have my back! Never, not even when it’s unfair! You are just constantly watching my every moves… It’s like you are waiting for me to mess something up, or to hurt someone! Or…” His voice was broken, as he looked down, as if collecting the strength to continue, before looking up to his father again, eyes full of tears. “Or kill someone!” He let out, holding a closed fist against his own chest. It was hurting. “And I do! I always do.”
“Don’t say—”
“But it’s true, you know it’s true!” Lo’ak shouted even harder, making his throat hurt. And Jake took a step back, realising how hurt Lo’ak was, how much he hurt him, how much he needed to scream like he did. “Because even you agree with that, so don’t lie to me now! I know I am a walking disaster…”
He almost let out a sob, shaking his head to stay focused, to not let out that ugly cry that he had repressed for so long now. Lo’ak couldn’t cry, wouldn’t. Especially not after he already cried in front of his father a few moments before. Jake reached for his son’s shoulder, in a desperate move to comfort him, even though he knew it couldn’t. He couldn’t. He was the one responsible for this. Lo’ak backed up swiftly, pushing away his father’s hand, before shouting again, his anger just growling inside of him.
“I try to change, to be better but it’s never enough. I am never enough for you! I’m not… I can’t be Neteyam!”
His last scream echoed in the silence of the night, as the only other sounds that could be heard were the waves, crashing against the rocks by the shore. It was as if he threw his words, as fast as he could, as strong as he could. And now he was just left with the awful pain and void in his chest, the anger slowly vanishing away letting his sadness show. He had tried. He had tried so hard to be like Neteyam, to be him. Before his death, acting all tough and strong, trying to be responsible and the perfect son. Even more after his death, knowing that now all his siblings would look at him whenever a decision had to be made, that he was the eldest brother. And yet, he couldn’t. He was just Lo’ak. Just that little boy, secretly scared and openly careless, making a fool of himself with his fourth finger and eyebrows. A little boy who missed his big brother perhaps even more than his siblings did, because he also missed the way he had less responsibilities and could look out to him whenever he didn’t know what to do. And he never really did.
Jake couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Oh his poor poor boy. The silence started creeping in in the conversation, as Jake’s mind couldn’t go any faster. What could he do? He would have much rather be in the middle of a fight than here right now. Because, Eywa knows, Jake was terrible at expressing his feelings. And now, he couldn’t start to imagine how to change this, what he could say.
But the silence felt too long, too long for Lo’ak to grasp what his father was feeling. He didn’t even care, did he? He probably felt ashamed of him, frustrated, and angry, and…
Lo’ak slowly started to feel the shame wash his feelings away, creeping inside his head, as always. He needed to be strong. What was even the purpose of talking about his feelings? His father was probably going to reprimand him for shouting at him like that. So, as the child in him was fading away, he stood straighter, and sighed slightly before talking in one breath.
“Sorry, Sir.”
As if finally taken back of his frozen state, Jake shook his head in disbelief of what he was seeing and hearing. The way Lo’ak folded into himself, masking and hiding away, as—Jake had now realized—he always did these past years. And instead of seeing it, instead of helping him, he had just driven him again and again into a corner.
“Oh baby boy.”
Lo’ak was still standing straight, looking at the ground, but his eyes widened. And, slowly, they filled with tears, forgetting everything he thought a few seconds before about being strong. Oh that nickname. He had yearned to hear it so much since the sky people came back. Lo’ak would have never said that he was deeply missing it, but he was. And yet it had been so long since he hadn’t heard it for the last time. For so long that he didn’t know how to react, as if it was some kind of dream, or a mirage that he could scare away by doing or saying something wrong. Somehow, it was almost hurting him to hear it.
“I was… I am scared.”
Lo’ak looked up, as if struck by lightning. That had never been a possibility in his mind. His own father was scared. No, that couldn’t be true. Because he was Toruk Makto, a strong and brave soldier, a marine, and a fearless leader.
“I get so scared of you getting hurt, or… worse.” He took a step closer, bending slightly his knees, as if to look Lo’ak right in the eyes. “Because I care for you Lo’ak, even more now if it is even possible. I don’t want to lose another son. I don’t want to lose you.” He murmured softly, as his pain was crippling in his eyes, before continuing. “I know that I am harder on you than your siblings… And I know it isn’t the best way to be, but it’s the only one I know when I am so worried.”
“You never trust me.” Lo’ak let out, in a pained realisation.
“No… I trust you, but most of all, I know you. Because you are just like me, Lo’ak.”
This time, Lo’ak frowned before shaking his head violently, as if it was such an absurd idea. As if everything that Jake was saying was to reassure him in a weird way, that it couldn’t possibly be true.
“No, no… You always do what’s right, you… you can’t…”
“I mess up too, Lo’ak. All the time. In the battle, with the people, with your mother… with you.” This time, he kneeled completely in the sand. And he continued, whispering. “But that’s not what makes me so much like you. You are strong hearted, brave, and, yes, for God’s sake, too stubborn. You would go head over heels into a fight without thinking about it, because you think that’s the right thing to do. To protect the ones you love. I am just like you.”
Lo’ak couldn’t believe his ears, as his eyes were still watering, biting the inside of his cheeks to not let it all go. His arms were just laying on both sides of his body, as if numb from his father’s words. He couldn’t say anything, so Jake continued.
“And that’s what makes me so scared. Because I know how willing you are, what you are capable of, and how dangerous it is out there.”
One of Jake’s hands was now on Lo’ak’s shoulder, gently stroking it. Lo’ak didn’t know what he was feeling, there was just an explosion of emotions inside of his heart and he couldn’t recognize any of them. But slowly, tears started to run down his face.
“I have never expected you to be Neteyam, or even be like him.” He explained slowly, his voice trembling from the emotion, even more so when saying his lost son’s name was like a knife to his heart. “You are my son Lo’ak. The one that used to beg to get on my ikran whenever we were going to hunt with your mother. The one that crawled into our bed in the middle of the night because he missed us so much. Always the first one to run to get your hair braided by your mother especially if she was singing those melodies only she has the secret of. The one in Neteyam’s steps, making him laugh when he needed to concentrate to hunt and he secretly loved that, I know it. The one that held Tuk up whenever she couldn’t see something, and the one that blocked Kiri’s ears whenever she could hear too much… My son, with all his flaws and especially his wonderful qualities, with his eyebrows and five fingers like me, making him unique…”
Jake brought his hand gently to Lo’ak face, first, to wash away his tears, and, then, to caress his cheek, his thumb brushing slowly that said eyebrow. That gesture held so much love, Lo’ak could feel it irradiate his father’s hand, and it almost burned him, burned his shell. Eyes into eyes, neither of them knew what to say anymore. The anger had slipped away, replaced with… could it be comfort? Lo’ak was now sobbing uncontrollably. Everything he had always hoped to hear had been said by his father, and he didn’t know how to react now. Without even asking each other, they both melted into each other's arms. Jake held Lo’ak head against his chest dearly, as if he was his little boy again. Because he had never truly stopped being his little boy.
And it’s when Jake held Lo’ak against him even closer, afraid that his son might slip away, that he finally saw it. The gun. And he felt shivers send down his spine. And maybe he knew Lo’ak a bit too well, because he understood directly what it meant. What it could’ve meant. His hands started shaking against his son’s back, but they never stopped caressing it, even more afraid now that he might disappear. Especially if he said something wrong.
He couldn’t talk about it, could he? He couldn’t say anything to Lo’ak about it, because all of this was his fault. Jake had been so close to losing his other son. And that thought only terrified him. Lo’ak needed him more than ever right now. He didn’t needed scolding, chastisement. He needed his dad. That was all that was left for Jake to do.
There were only a few words he could say with all his heart at the moment.
“I am so sorry, Lo’ak.”
After a few minutes, when Lo’ak slowly calmed down, his sobs stopping, Jake knew he needed to make him a proper apology. He had a lot to make up for.
“I shouldn’t have said what I said about Neteyam…” He murmured, before looking directly into his son’s eyes, and taking softly his hand in his. “Because I know it is not your fault. It’s mine. I am the one that should have protected you all. I promised it. And I failed.” His voice was calm and soothing, but filled with pain and regrets. He didn’t talk for another minute before adding a sentence. “And I am also sorry for how bad of a father I am.”
Lo’ak half laughed sadly before looking down again, his eyes filled with tears, his shoulders shaking. He had thought so much about that sentence, again and again. And now that his father was finally saying it, it hurt him more than it soothed him. Because it wasn’t true. Lo’ak knew it wasn’t.
“You are not…”
“Lo’ak… You don’t need—”
“Don’t say it.” Lo’ak stopped him, shaking his head, and Jake understood that he shouldn’t continue, that it was hurting him. And that was the last thing he wanted to do right now.
So, as his only weapon left, Jake held Lo’ak against him tightly, thinking how he would only back up when Lo’ak wanted him to. That’s all he could do now, show him how much he loved him. This hug represented all their unexpressed love for each other, both knew it.
It's only when Lo'ak's tears had dried completely that Jake kissed the top of his head. He had been meaning to do that for the longest time. But it never seemed to be the right moment, and Jake was maybe never brave enough to try. Lo’ak stiffened without saying anything at first, before shaking slightly his head, a fake disgust expression on his face. Jake laughed wholeheartedly, and Lo’ak couldn’t help but smile as he had missed that sound.
“I forgot you were a grown up now.”
Lo’ak smiled even more, but just held his father a bit tighter, breathing slowly.
“But, you know, you will always be my baby boy…” He murmured to his son, caressing his back without thinking of letting him go. “Even though I don’t say it as much as before.”
Lo’ak liked that idea, but he didn’t really know what to say. They had never been the best at communicating their feelings. So he just replied in a roundabout way.
“A bad father would never say that.”
“And a bad son would never deserve to hear it.”
That’s it. All was said and done in two sentences. All their fears slipped away.
A shared guilt in two lighter hearts.