~~~Superstes~~~UNDERGOING MAJOR EDITING

Mama just killed a man.

Neteyam was going home.

It was his spec of happiness in this dreadful moment, a tiny glimmer of light in his fading, darkening vision. He was totally blind in one eye--it was swollen shut from Quaritch's punch.

He could feel his blood running out of his mouth and dripping down his chin. He knew it was pooing in his lung from the way his breathing had become--impossible to suck air in. The sound of his exhaling was wet and thick.  

"We're almost there, kid. Just hold on." Iwa said, keeping his eyes ahead of him.

The man's ikran's strong pulse rhymed with Neteyam's, and his breathing matched his own.

The scent of saltwater hit his nose, and he knew Iwa's words were true. They were circling the islands of the Metkiyana people. He heard the horns being blown and the clamoring of the villagers. 

They landed in the sand.

                                                                                         ~~~ 

Jake ran out onto the shore, his heart racing, alongside Neytiri to see what the commotion was about. The villagers crowded the same sand bank he and his family landed on when they first arrived. The rain was stirring the waters and was wisping the spray of the sea onto Jake's skin.

Past the cluster of Metkiyina people he spotted four ikrans land right where the shallow waters ended. 

Jake's breath quickened in panic. 

The strangers weren't avatars--each of them had three fingers, but they wore recom clothing and were dressed in RDA attire. One young woman had a newborn baby in her arms.

The biggest one, a muscular young man with short hair, held a beaten, bleeding boy in his arms.

The father inside Jake recognized the child instantly, while the other part of him refused to except that it was him. That the broken, bruised and bleeding boy was his son Neteyam. Clutching onto his arm, Neytiri released a breathless sob. 

With a racing heart Jake pushed through the crowd and jogged towards the strangers. He pulled a dagger out of the holster on his waist and pointed it at the man who had his son. He couldn't control his wild emotions this time.

"Put him down," Jake demanded, venom and fear infecting his voice. "Right now!"

The man swallowed hard and immediately laid Neteyam down across the sand, before backing away respectfully. 

Jake dropped the knife and crouched over his son. Neytiri skidded in the sand beside him, her eyes wide and her ears pinned to her head. She gasped, "Oh, Neteyam!"

Neteyam's eyed lolled around inside his skull. But, after a few seconds, he lifted his confused gaze onto his father. Blood seeped from his mouth and dribbled down his chin--his chest had clearly been damaged again and his ribs, to Jake's horror, were misplaced beneath his skin. A light blue cast concealed his arm up to his shoulder. 

As if things couldn't be any worse, Jake's breath escaped him the moment he saw a bullet hole blown through Neteyam's left shoulder, leaving an ugly, round puncture that was oozing out crimson liquid. His skin was coated in a mixture of blood and sand. For the third time this year, he gently rolled Neteyam over to check for an exit wound. There was.  

Neteyam let out a cry, his expression contorting. "Dad." 

Jake's arms trembled as he examined him. "What did you do?"