Chapter Text
Quaritch felt the pain before he opened his eyes. A dull throbbing on the rear of his head had appeared the moment he came to. He let out a small groan as he turned himself onto his back on the mud.
Wait, mud?
His eyes shot open to see a canvas roof above him. Where the hell was he?
He moved to sit up, wincing at the pain as several more injuries made themselves known. He surveyed his surroundings. It was some kind of hut. A Na’vi hut, no doubt. A tree stood in the center, supporting the thick canvas around him. It would have been almost charming, were it not for the thick wooden bars dividing the small building in two.
Bars clearly to meant to hold him in.
Memories of the previous day slowly came back to him. The appearance of Sully, the battle with the Na’vi, the Sully kids boarding to rescue Spider…
Shit, Spider
His mind quickly forgot about the rest of the battle as he recalled the confrontation with Sully and his psychotic wife. He’d never considered himself capable of surrendering, much less to his sworn enemy. He’d have fought with his bare hands if it came down to it.
But the image of his son under the knife of Sully’s woman, hatred in her eyes, had been seared into his mind.
It had caught him off guard. Spider had never tried to hide his admiration for his so-called family. He always made sure to let Quaritch know who had taught him one skill or another, and how they were infinitely better at doing it than Quaritch was. He didn’t often talk about the Sullys directly, but when he did, he’d never had a bad thing to say. The thought of his enemies using their own supposed child against him had never crossed his mind. He had quickly thrown down his weapons and raised his hands, his mind filled with a mixture of shock, rage, and fear. He had tried to goad Sully to kill him, and then…
He guessed the throbbing on the back of his head explained why he couldn’t remember anything else.
His mind went back to Spider. The last time he had seen him, he still had a knife to his heart. Was he even, okay? Was he tied up in some prison shack like he was? He’d be damned if he let them keep his son caged like an animal…
Quaritch tried to ignore his throbbing injuries and started to get up but flopped onto his chest as he tried to move a foot under him. The various cuts and bruises on his body screamed at him, and he let out an involuntary growl. He looked down at his legs for the first time. A thick length of rope-like material looped around his ankles, then stretched to one of the branches holding the roof of the hut. He could probably take apart the knot, but it was out of his reach, especially seeing as he couldn’t even stand properly.
He resorted to using his arms to pull himself across the dirt floor. His bindings allowed him to drag himself up to the bars, but no further. He prodded the wooden posts. They were old and weathered, but thick and stood firm in the ground. He turned back and tested the binds. The material was primitive but strong, and he was in no condition to start trying to pull them apart.
He was stuck.
He pulled himself against the supporting tree and sat back.
Why was he even alive? Sully had been ready to kill him on the Sea Dragon.
Was he being toyed with?
Was spider safe?
He sighed as he leaned against the rough bark of the tree, listening to the ocean somewhere in the distance.
What the hell was he going to do now?
(…)
It had been nearly a day since they had returned from the battle, but Jake couldn’t help but stare warily at the makeshift prison on the edge of the village.
He was in there.
The man who had come back from the dead to kill him. The man who had held a gun to his children’s heads. The man whose orders had put his son in a coma from which he may never wake. Jake let out a low growl as he thought about Neteyam again. The shallow breathing, the fear in his eyes as he lost consciousness. He was lucky to even be alive, one of the bullets had missed an artery by a hair’s width.
But he had still taken three rounds from a rifle. He had been on the cusp of death when they had returned to Awa’atlu, and only Ronal’s care had kept him from joining Eywa as Jake had made a desperate call to Norm. Three bullet extractions, countless stitches, and a blood transfusion later, Neteyam had finally been stabilized, but he remained unconscious and weak. Norm said he was hopeful, but it was painfully obvious he was holding off on saying things would be okay.
He hated the pain he felt, and the pain he knew his family was feeling.
And Colonel Miles Quaritch was right fucking there, beaten, and bound, at his mercy. Jake considered the possibility in his mind; it wouldn’t be too hard to…
“You should go to your family, Toruk Makto.” Jake heard Tonowari’s deep voice behind him.
“I know, I’m just… making sure he is secured.” Jake responded, still eying the prison.
“His confines are meant for animals much stronger than any Na’vi is, and the warriors guarding him are strong themselves.” Tonowari responded, moving closer. “You have my assurance he poses no danger.”
“He still shouldn’t be here. No matter where he is, or how he is, he is a danger to my family. We shouldn’t have spared him.”
“He surrendered, he asked Eywa’s mercy.” Tonowari responded sternly. “You know the implications as well as I do.”
“Mercy? Quaritch doesn’t ask for mercy!” Jake spat. “He’d probably kill himself with his own knife if he still had it! On the ship he demanded that I…”
“Do not let your hatred control you, Toruk Makto.” Tonowari responded, calmly, but seriously. “He will face judgement as Eywa commands. He will face a warrior’s trial, not be put down like a beast.”
Jake looked down and sighed. As much as he hated it, Tonowari was right. When Quaritch had thrown down his weapon and raised his hands, he had technically surrendered, and Eywa forbid the killing of a surrendered warrior. Tonowari had been sure to remind him after he knocked Quaritch out with the butt of his spear.
Neytiri holding Spider hostage had shocked Jake, but he still hadn’t expected Quaritch to surrender. He had drawn his own knife and braced himself when he saw the demon’s knife clatter to the floor. The bastard hadn’t even known what he was doing. He’d asked Jake to kill him as the Metkayina approached, and Jake would have been happy to oblige if it weren’t for Tonowari’s presence.
He had no desire to show Quaritch the respect meant for a true Na’vi warrior, but he respected the Laws of Eywa, and he respected Tonowari.
“Go to your family.” Tonowari repeated. “Do not spend your day obsessing over this demon.”
Jake knew he was right. Quaritch wasn’t going anywhere at the moment, and his family needed him. He took one more look at the hut, then turned and started walking back toward the infirmary.
Two weeks until Quaritch’s trial
Two weeks until he finally ends this