~~~Superstes~~~UNDERGOING MAJOR EDITING

Sephora

It had been three days since Neteyam's lung removal surgery. He didn't actually find out he was missing an entire organ until the second day of recovery, when he'd got his head working again and could process information. 

He was shocked, to say the least. When Jake told him, his ears pinned flat to his skull and tears welled up in his eyes, which was humiliating. Of course he didn't want his father to see him cry, especially over something that stupid. He would be fine without his lung; it was just that Neteyam was so unexpected to find out he no longer had both. He had been afraid he wouldn't be able to run and fight and all those things that were crucial to Neteyam's life. 

Jake told him that he would recover fully, in time. But in time meant weeks, months, possibly years until he was capable of being the warrior he was. Apparently, they would just have to see how it went. No Na'vi had been stripped of an entire lung before and survived. 

That was kind of cool. 

"You can't go outside yet, Neteyam. I don't need to say it again."  

Neteyam sat up in his bed, his arms held out in hopes to convince his dad to let him have some freedom. His heart pounded in his ribcage like a trapped bird desperate to escape. He hated arguing. But it was inevitable--and as much as he despised angering Jake, sometimes he couldn't help it. He didn't think he could last another minute in this boring white room. 

"Why not? You have to let me start somewhere. Dad, I can--" 

Jake growled, "No, you can't. What happens if you're out there and something happens and I'm not there? Huh? Who'll help you then?" 

"Dad--" 

Jake grabbed the railing of the hospital bed, his knuckles tightening against the bars. A shiver went down Neteyam's spine from the sheer dread of his angry father, and his heart skipped a beat. The older man's tone was scary, but the fear was familiar. "I will not let my son leave this lab until he's absolutely ready, you hear me? It won't happen." 

"I'm not a cripple, Dad!" Neteyam raised his voice, desperate to be heard. The word "Dad" held more attitude and annoyance than he preferred. Now, the coddling and caring man he met when he woke up days ago had vanished, leaving the stubborn, upset replacement he knew well. But that was all he was willing to say, and his courage was gone. Fighting against his father was too great a destination to explore, and Neteyam wanted nothing that came from it. 

Something close to sadness flashed in Jake's eyes before it disappeared, and he was mad. He leaned in close and cupped his son's chin, "Listen here, boy. You are in no shape or form to be yelling at me, you understand?" His grip increased, and Neteyam bit his tongue to keep from crying. "You better watch your tone or you're gonna regret it--got that?" 

He nodded hastily, and Jake released his jaw. He immediately stormed out of the room, leaving the door wide open for everyone to see Neteyam's tear-stricken face. He wiped his eyes harshly and looked to the floor, a string of curses balancing on the tip of his tongue.

Slowly, Neytiri walked into the room. Her expression was gentle, understanding, but most importantly, it was one that Neteyam knew he could find comfort in. She came close to the bed and cradled his head to her chest, stroking his unkempt braids back. 

"Your father is like a boulder," she began, "He will not be moved easily." 

Neteyam snorted. 

"But he is afraid for you. For your safety. You are not well, Neteyam."