Not a Soldier Yet |Ao'nung x Neteyam|

46. A Bad Dream

Payakan took him as close to the shore as he could. Neteyam inhaled shakily and lifted his upper body, waving his arm and crying out to the Metcayina on the shore. Someone called back to him, and a horn was blown.

A warrior came into view, riding his tsurak. He reached for Neteyam, but his eyes widened in horror when he noticed the tulkun's missing fin. Shaking his head, he held his hand out again for Neteyam to take, but Neteyam only shook his head. "I can't move my legs-"

The warrior nodded, getting off the tsurak and stepping wearily onto Payakan's back. He grabbed Neteyam's thigh, and with his other hand, the warrior steadied him by placing it on his back before standing and carefully mounting his war beast.

"The tsahik is not yet back. You will have to wait for proper treatment."

Neteyam held onto the warrior's shoulder with one hand. "That's fine."

He was brought to shore, where Tsireya was already waiting, worry painting her soft features. "Neteyam! I'm so glad you're back. Where are the others?"

"Still fighting," he groaned as he was slowly placed on the soft sand. The movement forced his legs to straighten.

Tsireya gasped and placed a hand on his thigh, leaning closer to his knees. "What's that? What happened to your legs?"

Neteyam shook his head, lightly pushing her away. "I hit them. On the ship."

Tsireya nodded slowly, eyebrows furrowed. She chewed on her lower lip, staring out towards the dark, night sky. "Mother will be able to help you when she is back, but I fear that might be a while."

Neteyam lay still as Ronal leaned over him, bandaging his knees carefully.

"They are not broken, but the bone has cracked. You are lucky but they will take time to heal. I believe it is possible that you may experience pain long after the bones have mended. "

Ronal returned from battle unscratched. Neteyam had yet to see anyone else. "What happened out there?"

"The sky people tried to kill your father, but we fought them. He led us to victory. Nobody has fallen, only men." Ronal began treating the wounds on his wrists, pausing when her eyes fell on the few thin lines decorating his arms. Neteyam's ears pulled back nervously. "They tortured you?" The tsahik questioned, lightly touching a fingertip to one of the cuts. She did not seem to know what they were. "What is the point of such small cuts? This would scare only a child. These sky people are not so intelligent. "

He swallowed and shook his head. "Please don't ask me about what happened -"

"Neteyam!" Jake burst into the room, followed closely by his mate and youngest son. They did not seem to be too badly injured.

Jake rushed to Neteyam's side and stared down at his legs. Neteyam turned his arm, hiding his scars. Jake leaned down and pressed his forehead to his son's gently, whispering a prayer to Eywa in gratitude.

"Oh Neteyam, what did they do to you, my sweet boy?"

Lo'ak slowly sat down next to him. Ronal let them, stepping aside; Neytiri followed her, speaking softly to her in what Neteyam assumed was gratefulness. Neteyam would never admit that Payakan's attacks led to his injured knees. He understood this is not what Lo'ak, nor the creature intended.

Lo'ak took his brother's right hand in his gently, turning it and caressing his palm. Neteyam's breath hitched, but Lo'ak was not looking at his painfully exposed arm. His brother was staring off in the space with an expression that Neteyam could not read. Neteyam noticed the cuts and bruises on his brother's body and sighed, closing his eyes. They were injured because he was stupid enough to fall asleep outside in the forest, all by himself.

Neteyam swallowed, trying to will away the shame that sunk its claws into his heart. "What happened to Quartich, dad?"

Jake lowered his head in shame. "He got away along with quite a few of his men."

"What is our next move?" Neteyam asked softly. He lightly touched his father's hand.

Jake turned to look at him, searching his face. "Your next move is to heal. Mentally and physically. Only then will I allow you anywhere near a battlefield."

"But-"

Jake held his hand up; Lo'ak watched them with his ears pulled back. "No buts, Neteyam. I need you to understand that right now you are in no shape to fight."

Neteyam turned his head to the side, glaring into nothing. Lo'ak's hip broke his line of sight as his younger brother moved to cradle his head, running his fingers through Neteyam's hair gently.

"Lo'ak, son. Leave us for a moment." Jake stood up, pacing around.

Lo'ak's touches stopped before he pulled away completely and stood, walking outside silently, no questions asked.

"Neteyam," Jake began, a hand covering his eyes, another on his hip. "My boy, I know you just want to protect your family, but right now, you're the one who needs to be protected."

Neteyam twisted his arm until the wounded side was hidden safely from view. "Sorry, sir."

Jake sighed, voice laced with exhausted pain. "Baby boy, listen to me. I can not let you fight. You can't even walk right now! Remember how you told me you wanted to hurt yourself. Baby, I know that what you're feeling, this depression is a dark demon. You never know what it makes you do next."

"You don't think I'd get myself killed on purpose -" Neteyam hissed, nervousness taken over by pure rage - the same rage he felt on the battleship. "You have no shame telling this my face, father?"

In his rage, he tried to sit up, but he jostled his knees, causing a sharp cry to burst from his throat.

Jake looked away, face scrunched up in worry. He realized his mistake - he had not meant to imply such a thing - he only wanted to let him know that he knew he would get himself hurt on purpose, but Neteyam was fragile right now and easy to tip over the edge.

At Neteyam's loud cry of pain, Ronal hurried back inside and kneeled by him, placing a hand on his thigh to steady him and reaching for her medicines hurriedly.

Neteyam was her son now too; she would do everything in her power to heal him.