You Asked For It, What Would You Sing At Karaoke Night? I Would Sing As Many ABBA Songs As I Could

You asked for it, What would you sing at karaoke night? I would sing as many ABBA songs as I could 😆

Oh yes! I LOVE KARAOKE! I really love belting out some Nickleback, Beyonce, Ariana Grande. But my most favourite song to sing of all time is Francis Forever by Mitski <3

Revenant - Chapter 1

word count: 4392

Pairing: Colonel Miles Quaritch x Female! Wife! Reader Warnings/Tags: None

Chapter Summary: You discuss the mission a bit more in depth, and visit someone very important to you.

[Masterlist] - [Previous Chapter] - [Next Chapter]

In Tenebra Fidemus - In darkness we trust. In Luce Vigemus - In light we thrive.

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“Do you have any questions, [Y/N]?” James throws the last file into the fire. He assures you information will be clearer and more readily available once you touch down moon side.

“What of communication? How long is the delay to reach Earth?”

“Ah. You’ll be pleased to know that the Superluminal Communications used by the RDA allow for instantaneous interstellar communication between worlds. And naturally, we have set up our own private networks.”

Your eyes widen slightly at this. You had thought communication took as long as the commute; 6 years. You are happy to be wrong.

“There is a drawback, however, in that you can only send three bits of information per hour, and at the cost of $7,500 per bit. So do keep it as concise as possible, won’t you? And only when necessary.”

“Of course, James. Who shall be my contact on world? What of supplies? Gear?”

“Your on-world Handler shall be a woman by the name of Paz Socorro; a pilot with SecOps. She will be responsible for meeting any and all of your needs. Now in regards to your cover…”

James retrieves a thin black folder from his desk, handing it to you.

“You have two options. One – you will arrive as a Magistrate of the Interplanetary Commerce Administration. It is by their hand that the RDA has a monopoly on Pandora and the export of her resources. You will be there to oversee that the RDA adheres to the strict rules set by the ICA, less their monopoly be revoked. You will be given complete authority over the entire base in this instance; thus you shall be able to move about unhindered. We will also assign Miss Socorro as your personal pilot for the duration of your stay. The downside here is that, by being in such a position of authority, you will have eyes on you constantly. You may also encounter resistance from some personnel in both SciOps and SecOps.”

You nod quietly as he explains further.

“Two – you will be a bioengineer, sent at the behest of the RDA to work alongside Grace’s team. You will be researching ways to utilise the planets flora and fauna to combat disease, prolong human life, perhaps chemical warfare if you feel so inclined. We will forge the necessary scholarly documents as required. In this position, you will be far more inconspicuous; just another member of the SciOps team. However your interactions with Miss Socorro will be lessened, as we cannot guarantee she will always be your designated pilot in the field.”

You nod, crossing your arms as you consider the two options.

“What would you suggest, James?”

“Honestly? Option one. I believe it will make your life easier. No one will question your decisions, and even if they perhaps did, you may simply ask them under who’s authority do they operate. Anything you do, can be under the guise of the ICA’s interests, and never will you have to explain your reasonings. Conversely, you may use your position as a bioengineer to gain access to invaluable research on deadly fauna and how it could be used to eliminate your target. Either way worry not; you needn’t give your answer just yet. You have until tomorrow night to come up with the decision.”

“Tomorrow evening. A shuttle will collect you from your apartment at 2300 hours.”

‘That soon?!’ That left you barely any time at all to tie up any loose ends here on Earth. Without any true way to estimate the length of time you’d spend away, you wanted to make sure you left nothing behind undone.

“Time is of the essence my dear. Here, some light reading for you before your long slumber.” He hands you a book detailing the Na’vi language; aptly named the same.

“It’ll be lonely without you here…Try and come back in one piece won’t you? In Tenebra Fidemus.” He half bows with a hand flat on his heart.

“In Luce Vigemus.” You mimic his gesture. “Thank you James, for all you have done for me and mine. I will not disappoint.”

“I know...Good luck, [Y/N], and stay safe.” He places a firm hand on your shoulders, and you look up. Your eyes meet piercing silver. You commit his face to memory; the thick grey mop of hair he keeps styled back, the wrinkles strewn on his face, the crookedness of his mouth and the crease in his eyes when he smiles. Time has been unrelenting, aging him like fine wine.

He is old, you realise, and you suddenly ponder if he’ll be there to greet you upon your return. A round trip would be over a decade, and that’s without factoring in time spent planet side. The realisation sits heavy on your heart, for you now are certain this is perhaps the last time you shall see your father figure. Although he was the one to pull you into his dark world of blood and shadow, he still did more for you than your birth parents ever did.

You jump at him, wrapping your arms around his mid, burying your face into his chest. By sheer force of will you do not cry, but your shoulders shake still.

Words remain unspoken, unneeded, as he wraps his arms around you in turn. He knows precisely what you’re thinking. He holds you for a moment not yet long enough.

“Go. Before I try and change your mind.” He gently pushes you from him. You take his hand, squeezing the back of it to your cheek. Your eyes meet once more, and with a final determined nod, you turn and briskly walk out of the suite.

You don’t look back.

---

Descension was no less easier.

Your new mission weighs heavily upon your mind. You have faced dangers untold and hardships unnumbered in your pursuit of betterment. But to be pulled nearly 4 and a half light years away? Unthinkable. Inconsiderable.

But of course you had agreed; in actuality, there was little choice to be made. Denying would look poorly upon both you and your handler for a start, and you were not about to tarnish the reputation of the man that essentially raised you. More importantly, you thought of your dear brother, Tom.

As smart as he was, he was not built for combat. He was decidedly the smarter twin. Academically gifted , the man was inundated with PhD honours. He deserved the safety of his books, the certainty of walls and structure. What kind of sister would you be then, if you let his gentle soul venture into these uncharted wilds, leaving him at the mercy of this xenosanctuary?

Thus your choice was clear; you must accept the contract. You gave yourself a secondary mission then; eliminate all who would threaten the safety of your brother. From the lowest grunt, to The Director themself; no one would be spared your golden stiletto blades.

Family above all else.

---

A shuttle awaits you as you exit the premises after a quick shower and wardrobe change. You inform the AI of your destination, and with monotone acceptance, you’re off into the skies.

A song you don’t recognise plays, but you enjoy the feeling of the dark bass as it pulses through your bones.

Far off in the distance, thick grey clouds reach up towards an unseen sky. Deep orange cuts through the effervescent neon sea; the remnants of your last mission set ablaze.

You peel your eyes from the scene, dragging your gaze over the city below. Flashing lights, dancing holograms. The people move as one; a single living organism splintering itself into every nook and cranny, invading the dark crevices below.

And somewhere in this hell of concrete spires and minds of metal, your two brothers reside.

---

Tom’s apartment complex resides somewhere in the nicer part of town; if you can even call it that. The shuttle drops you off at a designated landing zone, several floors above where you need to be.

The moment your heel touches down, you’re off in a hurried gait. You become one with the crowd, pirouetting through the sea of warm bodies, avoiding their touch as you weave through. The air is thick, laden with the stench of garbage, street food, and something sickly sweet.

You pay no mind to the AI holos that vie for your attention, their faux voices disappear into the background as you press forward.  Advertisements in a language you don’t understand lick at your ears from all directions, drowned only by the sound of the locals around you; drunks arguing with any who look at them wrong, the not so sound of mind and their unintelligible ramblings, users openly abusing on the streets, even the faint moans wafting on the air from dark corners unseen.

You hate this cesspool of debauchery and sin. But time and time again, your brother refuses your offers to live with you. Your apartment is high in the clouds, far away from the lower dregs of society. It would be much safer you insisted, pleaded, but your brother is as stubborn as you are deadly. He doesn’t want to rely on you, wants to be able to stand on his own two feet. An intellectual prodigy, you often wonder if common sense was perhaps lost on him. Never the matter, you had him under constant surveillance. Thanks to your connections, the criminals operating in this sector know the resident of this apartment is off limits – no exceptions.

You arrive to his front door. With your knuckles, you perform a rhythmic set of taps; a secret signal to let him know it was safe to open, and whom to expect. You hear hurried footsteps from inside, a loud thump followed by muffled cursing. There is the distinct sound of things being knocked over, followed by more footsteps, and the fumbling of several locks. The door is wrenched open, and you are greeted with the flushed face of your beloved brother.

“[Y/N]!!!” He exclaims, grabbing you by the hand and pulling you into a hug. You return it with equal enthusiasm.

“Tommy! Sorry, did I come at a bad time? I hope I didn’t wake you.” You step into the apartment, closing the door and reengaging the  multitude of locks.

“No not at all! I’ve just been going through some of my notes from my dissertation.” He busies himself with picking up scattered papers and books strewn along the floor; no doubt the result of the scuffling you heard before. You make yourself comfortable on the couch.

“Don’t you already have a PhD?”

“Yeeeeees, but one can never be over prepared! Grace Augustine is a world renowned Xenobotanist and Xenolinguist. I have to cover all my bases if I want to impress her!” Your heart melts and your expression softens when you see the twinkle in his eye, and hear the fire in his voice.

“Tommy – you’ve already impressed her. You start training next year! I’m sure she’s just as excited for you to get there, as you are.”

“Maybe you’re right…” He gives you a shy smile, a small huff of a laugh leaves him as he rubs the back of his head. His expression morphs to confusion though as he gives you a thoughtful look.

“Hey, it is pretty late...What did you come by for? Not that you’re unwelcome or anything! It’s just, you know, later than usual…”

You cover your mouth as you giggle at his fumbling.

“Nothing bad, don’t worry! It’s good news actually!”

Tommy ceases his cleaning, and comes to sit beside you. He faces you, giving you his undivided attention.

“Soooo you know how I have that government job that I’m under strict contractual obligation to not divulge, under any circumstance, to anyone, ever?”

“You mean the very suspicious career that Jake and I are both convinced is actually you working as a high-class escort for the billionaires that run the world? Yes, please do go on.”

You make an offended gasp, but laugh as you playfully punch him in the arm.

“AAH! No! Stop! I’m sorry! I bruise easily!”

The two of you are in a fit of giggles as you continue to shove each other, which then devolves into the two of you grabbing couch cushions and start wailing on one another.

Tom holds up his hands in surrender, yielding to your superior strength. The conversation resumes once the two of you become calm once more and the laughter dies down.

“As I was saying—I’m being shipped off-world for my next big project.”

“Oh? Which colony are off to? Somewhere in the Zeta quadrant?”

You shake your head. You let him fire off a few more guesses, enjoying the frustrated look slowly developing on his face as he wracks his brain for an answer.

“Try something a little closer to home. Something you might one day be, intimately familiar with, as it were.”

He stares at you, brow furrowed with confusion.

Realisation then hits him, eyes widening.

“Noooooo…”

“Yeeeeees,” there is a tease in the tone of your voice as you nod with a widening smile.

“[Y/N]! Are you serious?! This is amazing!” Without warning he has you trapped in another hug, vigorously swaying side to side.

“I have so many questions! When are you going? What will you be doing? Will we be at the same RDA base? Is the government giving you your own Avatar? Have you been practising the Na’vi language? Have you even started? Would learning it even be beneficial to whatever it is you’re doing there?! What—”

“Tom!” Both of your hands are immediately cradling his head. It shuts him up instantly.

“Breathe bro. You know damn well I can’t answer, ANY of those questions! Ah well, except I’m actually getting flown out tomorrow night…”

“Tomorrow?! That’s so soon…” Tom grabs your hands in his, slowly lowering them to his lap. His eyes are cast downward. You can see his pupils shifting rapidly as his mind races with unknown thoughts.

Quickly his on his feet, releasing your hands. He sprints off into his room without a word. You call after him.

“Tom…?”

“One sec!”

After a few minutes, he’s right back in front of you, cradling a small black box.

“I was gonna wait till your birthday to give this to you—but seeing as I won’t see you for a few years…” He holds the box out to you.

The material is soft velvet, smooth under your skin. You let out a faint gasp when your eyes see the contents within.

A small pendant of silver, fashioned into the shape of a rose, with a ruby fastened into the centre; tied to a thin silver chain.

“Tom, it’s beautiful.”

“You’re welcome.” He gives you a self-assured smile, clearly quite pleased with himself. You turn around and he helps fasten it around your neck. It sits comfortably just below your clavicle.

“Thank you, you really didn’t have to do this.”

“I know…But I wanted to give you something special, now that I can afford to. It’s made of platinum by the way, so it’s nice and durable.” You wordlessly nod, putting the small black box into your jacket pocket. Tom grabs both your hands in his, holding them up in the space between you two.

“…Listen. You always took good care of Jake and I, ever since…Well you’ve acted not only as our big sister, but also filled the shoes of mom and dad. And you know what? I’m happy it was you there, and not them. Seeing you work hard, coming home at ridiculous hours, but still finding time to spend with us? It must’ve been hard, having to grow up so fast…But you were always smiling—Hell I don’t remember you ever complaining, even when we were being brats for no reason…You’re one of, if not, the strongest person I know.”

There comes a painful throb in your chest, the soft silk of his words wraps itself around you, squeezing. Your eyes glisten with the promise of tears, but you hold steadfast to your emotions.

“Look, all I’m trying to say is, thank you. Thank you, for taking care of me. Without you, I wouldn't have gotten all those scholarships, wouldn’t have had the drive to get my PhDs, and probably wouldn’t be sitting in front of you right now. So, my beloved big sister [Y/N], thank you for being my family. I love you.”

And the dam breaks.

You crash into him, hugging him with all your might. Tears flow freely down your face as you wail uncontrollably. Hearing him say those things, suddenly makes everything you have done, everything you have sacrificed, worth it all. There is an almost indescribable feeling that washes over and through you. It brings about a peace you hadn’t known you needed. It was a reassurance that your brother was going to be okay—his future was secure, thanks you both yours and his efforts; all in spite of the rough start you had in life.

“TOOOOOM!!! IT’S OKAY!!! I’D DO IT ALL AGAIN FOR YOU GUYS!!! I LOVE YOU TOOOOO!!!” You bawl out, still crying.

Tom laughs as he pats your back.

---

“Here, just TAKE it. It’ll give me peace of mind!” You hold out your spare apartment keycard. He sighs at your antics.

Some time after you had finally calmed down, you brought up the idea that he should live in your apartment while you are away; look after the place as it were. He wouldn’t have to pay rent, as that was covered by your job, and it would be in a safer neighbourhood. Still he fights you on this. You pout at him, puffing your cheeks.

“You owe me for making me cry!”

“Oh my GOD fine! Give it here!” He grabs the card, and immediately you face turns to a victorious smile.

“Good. I’ll be gone by tomorrow, so you can start moving your stuff in the day after.”

Tom nods but stifles a yawn at the same time. You cast a glance at the clock on the wall, realising the time.

“I should probably head off then, it’s getting rather late, and you clearly need your beauty sleep.”

He swats your arm playfully, and calls you something in a language you don’t recognise as the two of you make your way to the door.

“What did you just call me?”

“Ha! It’s Na’vi for ‘moron’. Even if you don’t need to learn the language for your job, I suggest you do. Because even if we’re not at the same base, you better believe I’m going to annoy you every chance I get! Even if it has to be over comms.”

You roll your eyes at him as you undo the various locks. With the door open, you turn to your brother once more. You pull him into one final hug. This time the two of you remain quiet as you embrace.

Your stomach flips, an uncomfortableness settles deep within. This goodbye feels far too final, and you do not like that.

Hesitantly do you remove yourself from his embrace, taking a small step back and out into the cold.

“I’d say goodbye, but that doesn’t feel right. So, I’ll see you later?”

He gives you a confident smile.

“Yeah…See ya later [Y/N]. Have a safe trip home. And a safe journey too. Keep Pandora warm for me.”

With a tiny wave, you turn and slowly start the ascent to the shuttle bay. Before you disappear behind the next flight of stairs, you turn to meet his gaze once more. The two of you share one final wave and an exchange of smiles.

He knows you won’t move first, and so you watch him disappear safely behind his apartment door.

---

The penthouse is dark when you arrive. You remove your shoes, leaving them in the entryway. Your hands glide over the walls as you meander into the living room, collapsing on the couch.

You lay there for a few moments, idly playing with the pedant on your chest. You can feel sleep tugging at the recesses of your mind, threatening to take you in a moments notice. With a grunt you sit yourself up. You know you have to call Jake now; you’ll be far too busy tomorrow.

You heart feels heavy in your chest as you think of him. He was deployed into active service in Venezuela a few months back, and contact with him is few and far between. The odds of him picking up are unlikely, but you attempt to establish a connection anyway.

It rings and rings, but there is no answer. The AI offers for you to record a video message.

You sigh in defeat, saddened that you would not be able to speak with him before you leave. For you it would feel like days, maybe weeks till you spoke with him next. But for him, he’d have to wait 6 years before he hears from you again. Guilt gnaws away at you, but the situation is out of your hands. Despite your pleas, he was insistent on joining the marines. He was more adamant than ever once he was accepted and started their rigorous training.

Often he would call you all hours of the night, once he retired with his fellow recruits to their bunkers. And even though he looked battered and bruised, his smile was toothy and genuine. The comradery of his fellows made known as they always invaded his personal space when he was chatting with you.

“Yooo Sully!!! Aye, bro! Is that your missus?!” The face of a stranger pushes against Jake’s as they try and get a better look at you on the comm pad in his hands.

“No you dick—that’s my sister! Urgh, [Y/N] this is Waitara. Waitara, this [Y/N] my SISTER.” You hide your mouth behind your hand as you let out a soft giggle.

“Hiiii Waitara. I hope you guys are taking good care of my baby brother?”

“Ayyyye, I promise, we’re taking good care of this one!” He puts one arm around Jake, giving him a noogie in the process. You once again laugh at your brother’s annoyed reaction as he tries to swat the other man away.

“Well then you have my deepest thanks Waitara.”

“Aww Miss! You can just call me Matiu, means ‘Gift of God’—”

“OKAY Romeo that’s enough! Stop trying to flirt with my sister!” Jake interrupts Matiu with a hard shove to the side. You can hear him laughing at Jake’s expense off camera. You faintly hear him call out to the others, Jake rolling his eyes, and before you know it, you’re being introduced to the others; much to Jake’s annoyance.

You on the other hand are all smiles and laughter as they inundate you with embarrassing stories of Jake, plus variations of “Miss Sully! Look what I can do!”

You smile at the memory, but remind yourself you need to record this now lest you fall asleep.

You hit the button to begin the recording, and your image appears on the screen.

You give an enthusiastic wave to the camera and a wide smile.

“Hi Jake! How are you doing? I hope everything is uhh, as good as it can be…” Your smile falters when you realise the man is in active duty, not training. He could very well be on the battlefield right now, under enemy fire. You bite your lip to stop yourself from over-thinking. Unlike Tom, Jake was always a fighter. Where Tom excelled academically, Jake excelled physically. His confidence was easily backed by the strength of his heart, and the strength of his fist. You shake your head and continue.

“Urgh sorry. I know you’re on active duty right now and it probably sucks…But I have some good news! Uhh, though whether you think it’s good remains to be seen…Anyway! You know my job, government, classified, NDA yadda yadda. Well! I have been given a big new assignment to take on…And for it, they’re going to be shipping me off-world! It’s gonna take me 6 years to get there cuz it's about four and a half light years away…I was hoping to speak with you before I leave, but I guess the universe has other plans huh? I’d tell you where, but, ya know. NDA and all that…”

Unfortunately you couldn’t really speak of where you going, nor elude to what you were doing. Tom was also under restrictions in regards to his future work with the Avatar Program. The only reason he spoke of it to you was, one, you are his big sister and he was always going to spill the beans to you, risks be damned. But two, your ‘government job’ meant you were well entitled to be privy to such information. At least that’s how you spun it to him.

“Oh! I just came back from seeing Tom, look what he gave me, isn’t it pretty?” You lean in closer to the camera, showing off the pendant.

“Said it was for my upcoming birthday…” You go quiet again, but only for moment.

“Listen Jake. I don’t know how often, if at all, I’ll be able to get in contact with you once I touch down. It’s a pretty remote place, and the work I’m doing…Look I don’t want you to feel like I’m abandoning you here on Earth while I go, chasing the stars or whatever. Everything I do, I do for you and Tommy. I love you guys, so, SO much. You’re my precious baby brother, and there isn’t anything in the entire God damn galaxy I wouldn’t do for you. I hope you know that… I love you Jake. Please stay safe out there. Come back to me in one piece? Love you, and I’ll see you later…”

You hit stop on the recording, sending it in one go.

There is so much more you want to say, so much more you feel you should say. But your emotions are running high, and you feel so utterly drained from everything that has happened, compounded with your worries for the future.

With conscious effort you drag yourself to the bedroom, changing into you usual sleep attire.

You move to throw yourself onto the bed.

You’re asleep before your head even hits the pillow.

---

[Masterlist] - [Previous Chapter] - [Next Chapter]

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Author's Notes: And so the adventure begins. Thank you to @mechformers for her constant support and feedback! <3 Apologies for grammatical errors, hope you all enjoy this first step.

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What Do I Tell My Friends Family - Masterlist

Pairing: Human/Recom/Navi Miles Quaritch x Female! Na'vi! Sully! Reader Tags/Warnings: 18+ ONLY, rare pairing, possibly dark content, smut, adult themes, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, lust, older man x younger woman, under age reader (16), degradation, nsfw, dubious consent, dirty talk, orgasm, orgasm denial, foul language, choking, vaginal fucking - each chapter will have it's own tags

Author's Notes: Am I going crazy? I can't find the masterlist for this fic so I'm making a new one. Seems like it just *POOF* disappeared! Someone let me know if I'm just blind >_>

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7

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Ma Miles - Ch. 18

3.5k words

Content warning: Mention of drowning, mention of getting shot with arrows

Pouty kitty!! A little bit of a smaller chapter today, but that's because another one drops tomorrow again. We're moving forward in this story and it's going to be a very rough ride for a little bit before ruffled feathers gets smoothed out again lol

(If you want to be tagged with the updated chapters, please leave your @ myusername in the comments!)

Previous chapter | Masterpost | Chapter 19 - Coming soon

Standing on the receiving end, watching as you leave with their son, is unlike any pain Miles has ever felt before in his relatively short and long life. Screw getting shot by Mrs. Sully’s arrows dipped in neurotoxins, screw Sully and the chokehold he had on him as he slowly but surely drowned him. Compared to this anxious fear that was crawling up inside of him, that had been like a walk in the friggin sunny park. For a moment, how he had ended up in this exact situation strikes him with blinding clarity. He had never meant for any of this to happen, never meant for Sully’s son to get caught in the middle of their war, yet, a child had almost died and it had partly been his fault. 

The bile that followed the realization didn’t sit well with him. A part of him growls angrily inside of his mind, demanding that he ‘pussy up and put a pad on it’. Yet, that part of him lay crushed to dust in the jungle somewhere far, far away from here. He was not that man, that’s what he had claimed the entire time, but when push came to shove, when Sully had been within his grasp, Colonel Miles S. Quaritch was exactly who he had become. By some kind of miracle, he had managed to stop the tulkun hunt just in time before Scoresby sent the explosive-tipped harpoon into the animal. The shadow of your soul-crushed expression brokenly staring up at him with horror had entered his mind, making his entire body clench up, as if panic-stricken. He remembered mumbling something as he pushed the harpoon upwards to the skies, as far away from the animal as he could get it, before demanding that they stop the hunt altogether. From there, Sully would get the message and still be able to save the animal. 

Sighing deeply, he realized that he had screwed up royally. He should have never taken Spider from your arms, should have never burned the villages, or ordered Lyle to shoot that chief’s animal. He should have listened to you, should have taken your lessons to heart instead of just playing happy house while closing his ears to Ardmore’s nagging. The woman, although outranking him, had no tactical sense whatsoever. Miles was not stupid. Upon waking, he had gathered all the intel he could on the General, pulled some strings, and called in even older favors. What he had found was unsettling, even to what remained of Quaritch’s personality inside of him. Ardmore was ruthless but sloppy, her work was efficient when successful, but disastrous when failed. 

It wasn’t as much the failed missions that worried him though. Ardmore had given him a promise inside of her office, one he no longer had any doubt that she would hesitate to fulfill once she got a hold of you. How he was supposed to keep you safe was beyond him. With the way his body ached, he wouldn’t be able to defend either one of you anytime soon. The chances of the village protecting them were slim at best. They were primitive people after all. Once Ardmore set her mind on something, he feared it would rival that of Quaritch himself. The chance of the two of them coming with him was even slimmer. He had no claim to Spider, even though you had accepted him as Spider’s father. The memory of your voice brokenly ringing through the hut pulls him out of his mind for long enough to assess the situation before him. 

‘You do not deserve them,’ 

The claim cut deeply, although knowing you, it was probably not meant to. The despair and heartache you had displayed took him by complete surprise. With every emotion pouring off of you, you let yourself be vulnerable without appearing weak. In fact, he had never seen a more powerful display of strength in his life. You had spoken the truth, even though it had obviously hurt you on a personal level. 

The little mama was right, of course, though even admitting as much to himself didn’t come easily. Spider had gone with her willingly, and why wouldn’t he? She had been there for him his entire life compared to him. Sure, he had been dead for most of his kid’s life, but what did he do once he actually found his son back in that jungle? Kidnapping. Coercion. Manipulation. And hey, what do you know; kidnapping again. 

Shaking his head, Miles clenched his jaw so tightly the force behind it threatened to break the bone. The pain brought a newfound clarity with it, clarity that he had needed so many times in the past few months. Sucking his bottom lip between his teeth, he squares his shoulders. Even though he never intended to hurt the children, using them as pawns in a game of war, just to get to the Sullys, had been beneath him. Looking up from his own pity party, he notices how Mrs. Sully doesn’t fare much better than he does. He recognizes the shame and frustration, her anger at him lingering just behind her eyes, as if smoldering embers waiting to ignite. But for the moment, he couldn’t care less what Mrs. Sully felt. Not when there were more important things to focus on.

The way you had just walked out on them, on him, threatened to make him spiral into a panic he didn't even want to acknowledge. Being ashamed didn’t fit into his life, didn’t clash well with his personality, in all honesty. Yet, when you had told them - told him - that they were unworthy of calling themselves parents, that they didn't deserve their children, he had only felt shame at the way he already knew it to be true. You were going to leave him for real if something didn't change soon, were going to turn your back on him and walk out of his miserable life like everyone else had. If he was being honest with himself, which apparently was the theme of today’s schedule, he didn’t understand why you hadn’t already left. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t expected it to happen. Everyone left him, that was just the story of his life. And maybe you would be better off if you did. But then again, if you hadn’t found a partner in all the years since adopting Spider, what was to say you would now? 

Closing his eyes and sighing deeply, he already knows what he has to do. Although it pains him to the very core of his soul, Miles steps up to Mrs. Sully, noting how her eyes darken with wariness as she scowls up at him, the grip on her knife tightening instinctively as he comes to a stop before her. The tension in the small hut is thick enough to slice with a knife, Sully and the big chief ready to pounce if he even breathed wrong. 

“She is right,” He starts slowly, his Na’vi not as good as he wished it to be, but by the shocked silence in the hut, he must’ve said it correctly enough. “I should not use the children on you,”

The sentence is chopped and slow, and he’s certain that he worded it all wrong when the hut remains silent, the Sullys’ expressions that of bewildered owls gawking at him with open ears. Growling his frustration at his own laziness, Miles slowly raises his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, praying for patience. 

“I shouldn’t have used the children against you,” He repeats, in English this time, “I apologize.”

“I understood what you said, demon, I am not slow like you,” Neytiri hisses back way too fast before continuing in English, “I will not forgive. But we do agree, for once. Y/n was right and I apologize for putting Spider in danger,”

It’s not perfect, it’s not perfect in the slightest, but it’s a start he thinks as he looks at his former Corporal. Sully’s shocked expression is not lost on him, and somehow, it makes him feel angrier than he already was. Turning around, Miles steps over to his cot, before sitting down. His body is tired and his head is pounding uncomfortably. With narrowed eyes, he watches as Mrs. Sully leaves the hut, but as she does, the big chief walks up to him. 

“It takes a strong man to admit when he is at fault,” He says before turning back to Sully. The two whisper something in Na’vi before the big chief leaves them both.

Miles doesn’t know how much time passes in silence, the sound of the sea below the hut soothing in a way he hadn’t expected it to be. Still, his anger and frustration over Sully only rise inside of him. The time he had wasted, the lives that had been lost, the cost it had demanded of him - all without a second thought. Although they were his decisions, he couldn’t help but fall victim to Quaritch’s old ways of thinking. 

“You were my brother,” He starts, his low and voice raspy - filled with anger and old betrayal that didn't belong in this new life of his, “And you betrayed that,” 

“It wasn’t personal, Quaritch,” Jake replies, and in truth, he sounds so honest. It only works to infuriate him even more though. 

“I gave you a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, Corporal. I went out of my way to give you what you needed to succeed. When Parker wanted to pull the plug, I fought for you. I showed you loyalty and you took that and spat it right back in my face - you turned your back on me,” Miles growls, ears pinned tightly to his skull as his tail thrashes loudly behind him, easily giving his emotions away which Sully clearly read. 

“What we were doing was wrong, can you still not see that?” Jake shoots back, his own anger showing, though his body language remained calm, non-confrontational. Anger though, anger Miles could work very well with. 

“You betrayed me, Jake,” He fuels on, the rasp in his growl lethal even to his own ears. 

“You betrayed yourself, Colonel,” Jake spits his title with disgust and for a split second, it hits home. Miles is unable to respond, unable to help his ears from twitching or his tail from freezing up behind him.  

“What we came here to do was wrong. Still, the Na’vi opened their homes, their hearts -” Jake points in the direction you and Spider had just left moments ago and the message hits dead center, “ - and welcomed us, made us a part of them, out of the goodness of their hearts. You know, the Na’vi has no word for shit like lies or sins. It’s not in their nature. But you know what? It is in ours, Quaritch,” 

What Jake says has Miles stopping in his response, mouth opened in a sneer to spit back, but nothing comes. Instead, his thoughts fly around inside his skull, evading him each time he reaches for any of them. He’s left gaping like a fish until he audibly snaps his mouth shut.

“We’ve done despicable things in our lives, Colonel, but this? This is a chance to make amends, to be born anew. Don’t waste it. Don’t repeat history…” And with that, Jake turns his back and leaves. 

Miles sits in silence until night has long since fallen, mind racing as the conversation with Sully runs through his mind. In more than one way, he knew that his former Corporal was right. This was a chance to start anew, to live a life away from war. But did he even know how to do that? He was born into war, lived and breathed war for the entirety of his human life, only to be reborn into war, of a different kind, once more. 

He had done things in his previous life that he knew he could never walk away from. And when his time eventually came, when he was military no more, he had roamed mindlessly before the Head of Chief position for the RDA was offered to him on Pandora. The private sector was sketchy at best, but it was home, a place where people like him could continue to live with the rules and mindset they had been used to from a lifetime of service. The time in between, though, that had been the worst. With no purpose in life, Quaritch had nothing - had no one. Heck, he didn’t even know himself apart from the Marine he had always been. That wasn’t to say he’d never let his mind wander, wondering what a life without the ever-pressing threat of active war and death would be like. To come home to a woman’s warm embrace, hell, maybe even a couple of kids too. Every time his mind went there, however, he would violently throw the thought from his mind. That life was not for him, had never been in the cards he was dealt.  

Now, though, now things were different. He already had the kid, had his eyes set on a woman… He had somehow been given this unattainable dream, but could he really keep it? Could he be the husband and father he had secretly dreamt of being all his life? And what then of Ardmore’s threats? If she found them already married, she would not hesitate to use Y/n against him, or him against her. But to what gain? There was nothing you could give Ardmore that any other native woman could not provide… unless it was to get full control of him. The thought has him freezing as a chill runs down his spine. The bond went both ways. If Ardmore got Y/n, he would be helpless to deny Ardmore anything she demanded of him, if only just to keep you safe. 

Miles doesn't have time to analyze his new discoveries, either one of them, when Spider walks into the hut, returning first, with a basket of food in his arms. He watches as the kid puts the basket down on the other side of the small hut, rummaging inside of it until he pulls out a ripe spartan fruit in his small hands. Miles watches as Spider cuts into it, dicing the juicy fruit into small cubes that probably were human-sized. It makes his own stomach growl loudly. 

“How are you doing?” Spider looks up from the bowl he’s putting the diced fruit into, his face curious behind his exopack. 

“Honestly, kid? I don’t know. These are new waters for me,” Miles couldn’t help but reply honestly. This was his son before him, the kid who saved him from a watery grave, even though he had just betrayed him and his mother. 

“Yeah, no shit,” Spider chuckles, a grin spreading across his lips before removing his mask to eat the first cube of spartan fruit, humming loudly as the taste no doubt explodes across his tongue. “Heard you apologized to Neytiri,” 

“Words spread fast I see,” Miles sighs, as his stomach growls angrily again while watching his son eat, “It was the right thing to do,” 

Spider looks at him with an expression Miles can’t place before he nods his head and leans back. Rummaging in the basket, he lifts another spartan fruit from it. Indicating that he was to throw the fruit, he waits for Miles to be ready to catch it before sending it over. 

“How angry is your mother?” He asks, digging into the fruit before daring to look into his son’s eyes, a small ‘thanks’ mumbled as he chews loudly.

“Oh, she’s furious. Never seen her this mad before,” Spider grins and Miles coughs as he chokes on the fruit before sighing in defeat while putting the half-eaten fruit down in his overly exposed lap. 

“I’ve never seen her this sad before either,” Spider continues shortly after as if he was waiting to gauge Miles’ response before offering the information. 

“Why’s she sad?” Miles dares as he stuffs the last bits of the spartan fruit into his mouth. 

“You broke her heart and betrayed her trust,” Spider gives so freely, without judgment, and just like that Miles has a new goal in his life. 

Conflicted about what his mind tells him and what he feels, he knows deep down that even Quaritch would have been weak for this Na’vi woman, for their son. She had shown him kindness where he had deserved none, had embraced his unit, taught them well, and made them smile, and what did he do in return? He had turned around and spat in her face, throwing away all of her hard work. Quaritch had always known he was an asshole, but Miles never for a second believed they could sink as low as this. You had taken his son in after Quaritch’s death, giving him warmth and motherly love, letting Spider grow into a confident and strong young adult. Quaritch and Miles owed you everything, even before you had met. 

Now, though, that responsibility fell upon him. Quaritch was no more, no matter how much he tried to come to the surface in Miles’ mind, dictating what he should or should not do, what he should and should not feel. Although his voice in the back of Miles’ mind had been conveniently quiet when it came to you, Quaritch had had his full share of “brilliant” ideas to offer on other stuff. Fifteen years, one and a half decades. That was a lot of time for the world around him to change, a lot of time for Quaritch’s methods to be outdated. This was a new age, demanding a new point of view to defeat an enemy that would no doubt come for them with a personal vendetta much stronger than before. 

Lost deep in his own thoughts, he doesn’t notice how Spider goes to sleep, his small body curled up in his mother’s huge bed, rolled into their blankets like a burrito. Sighing deeply, he gets up to clean the knife and bowl that the kid had used, dipping it into the bowl of clean water. For a moment, he looks longingly at the knife in his hand, entertaining the thought of breaking free, but Miles shuts Quaritch up before that seed can grow. This isn’t giving up, he decides, but rather seizing the second chance he’s gotten to do things right. Looking out over the sea, he sees two ikrans flying in the distance, riderless, and instinctively, he knows that it’s Cupcake and Hawnu. You must have just returned if he caught sight of Hawnu flying away. 

Turning back to his cot, Miles bends down on his aching knees before burrowing down into the material below. The woven mat is nothing much, but the blanket he’s covered in is soft and warm, protecting him from the harsh winds out on these islands. Closing his eyes, he lets his mind wander to more pleasant things, like how Cupcake was safe, how you had brought her with you. If she was out flying with Hawnu, it meant that the wounds on her neck weren’t serious as he had thought. Any other thought disappears as light footsteps approach the hut, however. The guards outside greet you gently as you pass them by before stepping inside the hut.

You look tired. Your eyes puffy and dark as they meet his from across the room. Turning your back to him, you fiddle with the flap that works as a door, fastening its buckles as you prepare for sleep.  One by one, you close the flaps until the only light source is the pit on the floor, not that he actually needs it, his night vision working just fine for once. You don’t say anything as you turn your back to him before getting into bed with Spider, the blankets rustling quietly before the hut grows quiet once more. 

Sighing, he pushes the blankets away from his body and gets up to his knees, groaning like an old man as his body protests the activity. Seizing this second chance starts here, with the woman who had offered him the trust and patience he had only experienced in rare dreams. Walking over to their bed, Miles wraps his fists over his thumbs, an anxious gesture he never quite managed to hide. Getting down to his knees before your bed is easier than getting up. It isn’t lost on him how your shoulders rise to protect your neck or how your ears pin tighter against your head while he gathers his… courage.

“For what it’s worth, I am sorry, sweetheart,” Miles’ voice comes out raspier than he thought it would, but his words ring no less true. 

He kneels there for a while longer, the silence stretching on, before getting up with a hiss, his body protesting louder this time. Walking over to his cot again, he lets his body crumble to the soft material. The olive branch had been extended, all he could do now was wait and hope that you would accept it.

Chapter 17 | Masterpost | Chapter 19 - Coming soon

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