A/n: Based this off of Sienna and No one noticed by the Marias. Also, sorry if it's not accurate, I tried the best that I could.
Jake Sully x Na'vi fem reader
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The forest does not warn you.
It doesn't whisper, doesn't shift its glow, doesn't soften the air around your body the way it sometimes does when something terrible is coming. Pandora breathes the same way as it always has, steady and indifferent, as you walk home with a basket balanced against your hip.
You are thinking about nothing important.
Just:
About the way Jake laughed that morning when you scolded him for leaving his gear everywhere. About how he promised--again--that he'd be better when the baby came, that he'd learn how to be quiet, careful, gentle.
You'd teased him for already acting like a father.
We're not even there yet, you'd said, smiling.
But he'd just looked at you, soft and sure, and answered, Soon.
Soon had wrapped itself around your ribs like something sacred.
The woven door curtain is pulled aside when you reach your home, the fibers still warm from the sun. Smoke from the hearth lingers faintly, familiar, comforting. This is where your life lives. This is where your future breathes.
You push aside the door.
You quietly gasped.
Jake's voice reaches you first-- low, intimate, pitched in that careful tone he has only ever used with you. The sound curls wrong in your stomach, sharp and disorienting, like hearing your own name spoken by a stranger.
Then you see them.
Neytiri's back to you. Her braids spill down her shoulders, her posture relaxed, at ease in a way that does not belong to someone who is merely visiting. Jake stands too close to her, close enough that their shadows overlap on the wall.
Her hand rests on his arm.
Not gripping.
Not pleading.
Just there.
Like it has always been allowed.
Your body does not react the way it should.
There is no scream. No rush of heat. No collapse to your knees.
Instead, something inside you goes very still.
Your mind fills with sound-- not the room, not them-- but memories, crashing over one another so fast you can't catch your breath.
Jake's hands on your stomach, tentative, reverent, whispering names into the dark like prayers.
What if we name her after the stars?
The way he'd rested his forehead against yours and said, I want a life that lasts.
The mat you'd woven together. The marks you'd painted on each other's skin. The future you had spoken into existence so carefully, like it might shatter if you were too loud.
I would never hurt you, he'd said once. Earnest. Certain.
Never like that.
Your basket slips from your hand.
The sound is small-- dull fibers against packed earth-- but cuts through the room like a blade.
Jake turns.
Color drains from his face so fast it's frightening. His mouth opens, your name already forming, already desperate.
Neytiri stiffens. She looks over her shoulder.
And then she understands.
Your eyes meet Jake's, and in that moment, he knows something irreversible has happened. Something that he had done and caused.
You are not crying. You are not anrgy.
You are gone.
You feel it-- the precise second your heart disconnects from your body, the way it pulls free like something living being torn out by the root.
You think, distantly, So this is what it feels like.
Jake takes a step towards you. "(Name), wait--"
You didn't hear the rest.
Your legs moved without instruction. You turn, every motion eerliy calm, as if this is something you've practiced. As if leaving the life you built is just another task to complete before nightfall.
Your hand moves to your wrist and takes off the bracelet Jake had made you when courting you.
The bracelet falls against the ground.
You walk towards the forest as it opens its arms just for you.
The forest swallows you whole.
Jake calls your name from inside your home-- once, twice-- his breath shaking, breaking, cracking open with panic, but the sound does not reach you. You were already dissolving into the dark, into the vines and roots and breathing earth.
By the time he reaches the clearing, you are gone.
No trail.
No scent.
No echo.
It's like Eywa herself has erased you.
Jake stands there long after the night deepens, chest heaving, staring at the place your shadow should be. His hands shake. His mouth tastes like metal and regret.
His eyes fall on the ground and saw a small object.
He walked closer, letting his tears fall.
It was the bracelet he had given you when he was courting you.
His knees hit the ground, shaking hands reached for the bracelet and held it closely to his chest as if it was his lifejacket.
Inside the home, everything remains exactly as you left it.
Your necklace.
Your mat.
The space beside him where your warmth still lingered like a cruel joke.
That night, jake imagines the life he could've had. The life he would never live.
He would wonder if your child would have his temper
or if they would look like you
Or looked cute as you
Be sensitive like you
Wondered if they would be like him or you.
But he would never know.
And somewhere deep in the forest, alone and unmade, you learned how to breathe again-- not because you want to, but because your body refused to let you disappear completely
