~~~Superstes~~~UNDERGOING MAJOR EDITING

Blown to pieces.

Without thinking, I swung my legs over the bedframe and stood up. The lightheadedness washed over me, making me sway and wobble, but I managed to stay upright. I yanked the IV's and tubes out of my arm, and Lo'ak stood with me, a worried look in his eyes.  

"Neteyam?" the younger brother called, "Dad, what's happened?"

Jake turned around and pointed at us. "Nothing, son. Fe'ya, sit down." 

An avatar nurse came rushing over to me, coaxing me to rest and lie back down. I waved her away, "No, I'm fine. I have to see my friend." 

Neteyam hopped onto a messily organized tabletop, once again, his posture drooping. Linayin quickly went over to him and began to investigate the worser injuries, studying each one carefully so her brain could compute what needed to be done. Mo'at caught notice of her other grandson and started scolding Lo'ak and studying his twisted foot, her eyes narrowed.

Discreetly, Linayin snapped her fingers in Neteyam's left ear--no reaction. She moved to his right ear and was met with the same lack of response, not a twitch or a movement. The fifteen-year-old's eyes followed her hands, and his repression matched Jake's. He was beyond upset. 

I twiddled with my thumbs nervously. A Na'vi without his or her hearing was like a forest bird without wings. Utterly useless, defenseless, vulnerable, and powerless when it came to relying on your auditory sense. And in the dangerous, venomous forests of Pandora, where you relied on your hearing in 99% of situations, even daily life; it would be a death sentence without it. I could only imagine what had happened out there to result of this.

After a few moments, Neteyam's empty gaze locked with mine. For a split-second, I saw relief in his amber irises, but it wasn't enough to convince me that he's okay. I started to speak his name, then stopped abruptly. 

"Fe'ya," Neteyam spoke. It was awkward--his voice had suddenly become quiet and dry, unlike the commanding, confident tone he always had. "Are you okay?" 

I nodded, smirking slightly. It was a sad smile--one full of sorrow for Neteyam. For however long his deafness would last, he wouldn't be happy, or energetic, or talkative. I already knew that just by looking at him. And worst of all, I wasn't good at sign language. Mom was never good at it, so when I was little, Norm would teach us the basics and we'd go from there. I still wasn't good at it, though. 

I also knew how much this would probably affect the rest of the Sully family. They relied on the eldest boy so much, and Jake put so much into teaching Neteyam how to be a leader, a defender, protector. Neytiri's pride and joy was her son, how will she react? Neteyam was not adapted to life without sound, rather, he was actually taught to fully rely on it and use it to his advantage. 

Not knowing what to do, I sat back down. On the floor below me, Lo'ak winced and snapped at Mo'at for "being too rough" and saying "that hurt". I laughed and teased him despite the heavy weight on my chest. I hoped Neteyam would join in on my aspiring attitude, since all I could do is have hope that this would blow over. 

I started to think about my mom soon after Lo'ak's foot had been secured in a splint. I wondered what she was doing right now, what she was feeling, if she still cared about me. I'd rather not have her on my mind, though. I dismissed every thought of her I currently had. 

I laid on that bed for hours after that, just processing the battle, but sitting up when a warrior or random Omatikaya would come in and inform the lab coats of how things were progressing outside. Most of the RDA had been driven away or captured, maybe even killed. The biggest thing was trying to get all of the sky-people to evacuate Bridgehead city and return to earth, unless you were a part of Hell's gate, a settlement near the forest for the scientists and good humans that chose to stay fifteen years ago. It was going to be a long haul, but eventually, the RDA would be gone.