Petrichor

Destroyed

hello my lovelies, just to make you all aware that theres graphic violence in the middle of this chapter

"I love yo-"

Her son's eyes went wide, the pupils dilated, his chest falling as the word failed to form. Ätopä gripped his shoulder, her cries turning to wails as she rocked back and forth, putting her face in the crook of Leypa's neck. Her son's white lights on his face and body went dark.

"Leypa?" Ilhia said softly, quietly, as she took his limp hand. She gripped his thumb with one hand and his fingers with the other. "Leypa?" 

Ätopä began screaming. 

"Leypa? No, no, no, my son!" Ilhia rocked forward, letting go of Leypa's hand, grasping his face. "Leypa! My boy!"

She vaguely felt Jake's hands on her shoulders, barely heard his voice as he tried to console her. 

Her son. Her son. 

"Leypa! No! No, Great Mother!" Ätopä howled, placing her hand over Ilhia's on Leypa's face. "No! No! You cannot leave me! You cannot leave me! Please! Please!"

"Oh, my son!" Ilhia sobbed. Her hands fluttered over the knife, and she pulled it out in one quick yank. Blood pooled around the paste, and then slid down his chest to his belly. She went to throw the knife, she just wanted it away from her, but Jake caught her wrist, gently took it from her, his hands smeared with red where he'd grabbed the blade. 

"You cannot leave me! You cannot leave me!" Ätopä cried. "What about our child? What about our boy? Please, Leypa!" 

"Can you hear me Corporal? Yeah, yeah, I think you can."

The voice spoke directly into her ear, but she couldn't hear it. She recognised the English, recognised the person, but it sounded jumbled to her. She took Leypa's hand again and pressed it to her own face, wanting to feel something, a finger twitch or firmness behind his palm. She gazed at her son's face, wanting something, anything, an indicator. 

He couldn't be dead. 

He couldn't be dead. 

How could he be dead?

Her first son. 

"I got your daughter. Same deal as before. You for her." 

Jake's hand on her shoulder went tight, but she couldn't feel it. All she could feel was the cold hand against her face, could only see the wide dilated eyes in front of her, the trail of blood from her son's mouth, smeared, some of it on Ätopä's face and colouring the beads in her hair red.

"Where is Tuk?" 

Ilhia wailed, placing Leypa's hand onto his belly, pressing two fingers to his neck. She'd find a pulse, surely. 

"Tuk! Where is she?!" 

"She is on the ship, she is on the ship!" 

There was no pulse. There was no pulse. 

This was a nightmare. This was a trick given by Eywa. She'd wake up, make her way to Leypa's hut and find him feeding fruit to Ätopä, lying on the floor like he used to when he was a child. 

Ilhia shut her eyes, taking Leypa's hand and holding it to her chest, gripping it tight, wanting him to squeeze it. Anything. The tears still dripped down her face. 

"She will be at the pool!" 

"What?" 

"There was a pool, in the middle, that is where they will have her." Lo'ak stood, holding a hand out to Jake. "I will show you."