Now, IDK if Na'vi have an appendix. I'm gonna assume they do bc of the tail and apparently our appendix used to have something to do with a prehistoric tail (idk)
but I've had a shit day, so I need to bully my boy. Enjoy.

~

Neteyam had been dead for four months. In those four months, the family hadn't really progressed in their grief. Sure, his parents had become slightly more present and in the moment, but neither of them really spoke anymore. Lo'ak understood. He'd not even slept in the same area as them for close to three months. In fact, thinking about it, he hadn't had a full night's sleep in over three months. He'd be woken up by paralyzing nightmares, horrible nightmares, that would rouse him from the clutches of sleep with a cold sweat down his spine, tears pouring from his eyes and a sharp gasp.

Clearly, his mind thought he was at fault for Neteyam's death as well, even if everyone around him said the opposite.

He knew people had begun to notice. His eyes were forever red and sunken. There were permanent tear tracks on his face, he'd never had the energy to wipe them away. Sometimes he could nap during the day if he was particularly exhausted. Or rather, he could pass out for a few hours, dead to the world. He'd forgo breakfast, staring unseeingly at the sea and horizon, feel sick and dizzy, and then stumble to the Marui. Sometimes he'd land on his bedroll, other times he'd miss.

Most of the time he'd forget to eat. The muscle he'd gained from swimming with Tsireya slowly faded away, showing just bones. It's not like he didn't want to eat, he did. The pain that burned in his stomach brought tears to his eyes. But he never had the energy. On the rare occasion he ate, he'd be so focused on stuffing as much in as he could, he'd end up throwing it up painfully hours later. His mom would usually be the one to rub his shoulders and hold his braids out of the way. His dad helped maybe once. Even then, Lo'ak wasn't sure. He'd been so dizzy and sick, he barely kept himself upright. The cycle continued.

~

Lo'ak had been feeling particularly sick for a few days, and as such, particularly angry. Being up all night with an aching stomach didn't exactly make for good mood material. And on that day, he finally had it out with his dad. The morning started relatively normal: he'd been dozing on his bedroll, curled in a ball to try and relieve the pain. "Maitan, you need to eat," His mom said, pushing a bowl of... something towards him. Lo'ak sniffed and rolled over to face the wall. "Lo'ak. Eat," She said. He shook his head. "Don't be stupid. Eat. You're wasting away," Lo'ak swallowed back the sick feeling and curled into a tighter ball when a wave of pain rushed over. "I'll eat later, Mom. I don't feel well,"

His mom's tail wrapped around his ankle in silence. She began to whisper to his dad. Lo'ak stayed still, listening.

"I am worried about him, ma Jake... he is wasting away,"

"He'll be fine. He's a Sully: we're tougher than shit on shoes,"

"I will never understand your sky-person words, but he is not fine, Jake. I can count how many ribs he has. I shouldn't be able to do that,"

"Well, as much as I wanna help, we can't help somebody who doesn't want to be helped, Neytiri,"

"He is our son. It is our job to help him, whether he wants us to or not,"

"I didn't mean it like that: a person who doesn't want help won't accept it: you're fighting a losing battle. You'll have to 
wait until he's ready,"

"Then tell me why he is killing himself. He never eats, he never sleeps, and he barely speaks to Tsireya anymore, the poor girl. Never mind that tulkun of his, more than once I've seen him in the shallows, making sounds for our son," His dad scoffed. "That damn animal is the reason we lost our boy. I could die peacefully if Lo'ak never saw it again," Lo'ak stiffened up. "Ma Jake, how- what do you mean?" Mom asked. "Lo'ak, trying to prove something, I don't know what, but he decided that instead of listening to us, to Neteyam, he'd go and warn it. Fuck,"

Lo'ak squeezed his eyes shut tightly, clamping the tears before they could fall. "Jake, that does not mean our son died because of him. He went to warn a friend. I would have done the same if it were Seze. And I know you would have for Bob,"

"No, I'd've stayed in the fucking village and not gone," His mom inhaled sharply. "Jake," She hissed. Too late, had the damage been done. Lo'ak hissed as he rushed to stand. The pain in his stomach somewhat dulled, but then again, so did the anger. "I knew you blamed me!" He cried, tears running freely. "I FUCKING knew it!" He yelled. His tail whacked something that yelped. Maybe Kiri. "Maybe I do!" Dad yelled back. Lo'ak's eyes widened. He stumbled back. "Maybe, if you'd just listened for once in your fucking life, everything would be fine. Neteyam would still be here!"

His jaw quivered as his eyes watered. Mom was silent. Kiri was staring wide-eyed. Tuk was crying. Lo'ak balled his fists tightly. "I hate you," He whispered. "Go on, boy! If you've got something to say, SAY IT!" Dad yelled. By this point, a few clan members had gathered outside: Tsireya and Aonung being two. "I said I HATE YOU! I fucking HATE you!" And he took off running, ignoring the shouts for his return.

~

Two days had passed and Lo'ak hadn't returned. The Marui had been silent the whole time. Kiri, especially, had stewed in furious silence. She would scoff whenever her dad came near her, ignore him when he spoke and actively avoided him. Tuk wasn't much better. Mom had made him sleep in a different area entirely, and wouldn't let him back until he'd apologised. That night, Kiri had a weird dream that, despite her current loathing of her dad, made her tell him.

She was walking along the walkway, gazing at the moon and starry sky. For as far as she could see, nobody was around. It was just her and her peace. She sighed softly. Oh Lo'ak... where are you? She thought sadly. She'd only just lost one brother. She didn't want to lose another. A sudden feeling to look on the private beach for Tsahik and Olo'eyktan sent her into autopilot. She jogged the way there, not wanting to wake up before she found out why. As she rounded the corner, her heart dropped all the way down to the seabed. "Lo'ak!" She cried, running to his fallen form. She grabbed his arms, rolling him over. His eyes were glassy, and to his left was a pool of vomit. She gagged softly, looking away. "Brother, please, wake!" She shook his shoulder. All he did was whine under her manhandling, curling into a tighter ball.

She woke with a strangled gasp. But not in her marui. She was back home, in the forest. No, no, no! She had to wake up, to warn her parents. She spun in a circle, frantically thinking of ways to wake herself up. "Kiri?"

No.

No way.

She spun with a gasp. "Teyam!" She flung herself at his form. He laughed, wrapping his arms tightly around her form. She cried into his shoulder. She hadn't been there when he'd died, only being given enough courtesy to see his dead fucking body. "Why're you crying sister? What is wrong?" She shuddered, not pulling away. Did he know he'd died? Sometimes Eywa removed that part of passing on: to help them feel better in the afterlife. "Nothing. I-I just missed you," She sniffled, finally pulling away. He wiped away one of her treacherous tears with a smile. "I missed you too."

As if he'd suddenly remembered something, he frowned. "Does Dad know about Lo'ak?" Kiri shook her head. "No. I-I only just found out, in a dream. I haven't been able to wake up yet," Neteyam pursed his lips. "I've tried waking him as well, for the last two nights. Grace says he has appendicitis, apparently." Kiri's eyes widened. "Grace? As in my mom?" Neteyam smiled softly. "Yeah. She watches over you every day, guiding you where she can,"

Kiri felt tears in her eyes again. "I wish I could see you again, Tey." She whispered. "I know. I do too. But I watch you, and Lo'ak and Tuk-Tuk. Every day." She smiled sadly. His form began to fade, despite her desperately clutching at it. "Wait, don't go!" She cried. "You're waking up, Kiri. You need to tell Dad! It's important!"

And she woke.

~

She offered no explanation to her dad, still fuming silently. She dragged him by his arm, despite his protesting. "Kiri, we're not supposed to be here," He argued. "Just shut up and follow me," She snapped. Dad tried pulling back but she pressed on. "Please, he's in trouble," Dad huffed. "He'd better be dying,"

And he was.

Kiri stumbled in shock. Lo'ak was far far worse in real life. "No!" She cried, falling to his side. True to the vision: His eyes were glassy, and a pool of vomit lay to his left. But what frightened her was the small smattering of blood. "Lo'ak! Brother, wake!" She cried, shaking his shoulders. Dad was at her side, staring in shock. She slapped Lo'ak across the face, hard. Dad exclaimed in shock, but Lo'ak woke. The tears immediately began falling as he writhed in pain. "Stop, stop, stop, it hurts, please stop-" He cried, weakly batting her hands away. "Lo'ak, son, what hurts? I need you to tell me so I can help,"

"He has appendicitis. Don't ask," She said. Dad hesitated. "But Na'vi don't have an appendix, do they?" Lo'ak leaned over to vomit again, yelling as he moved. Kiri grabbed his shoulder. "Dad, please!" Dad pressed his neck com.

While he spoke to whoever, Kiri brushed the braids away from his face. "I dreamed of Neteyam, brother." She whispered, stroking his head. He was hot. Very hot. His eyes fluttered as he gazed up at her. "Y-y-yeah?" He mumbled. His eyes seemed to clear somewhat. "Yeah. He misses you. Wants you to visit," She continued. "Norm's on his way," Dad said, moving to Lo'ak's left shoulder.

"Says you're a skxawng," She whispered tearfully. Lo'ak huffed a breath of a laugh. "Dad-" He began. "Stop. Right now. You have nothing to say. Save your energy," Dad said. Kiri swallowed back her fear. Surely the Great Mother wouldn't be cruel enough to take both her brothers in less than a year, would she? "No, I-" Lo'ak let out the most bloodcurdling, pain-filled scream Kiri had ever heard. "It hurts, it hurts!" He sobbed, thrashing. "Fuck, it must've burst! Norm!" Dad yelled loudly. "Keep him flat!" Kiri pushed on his shoulder. "Brother, keep still!" She cried, tears running down her face again.

He continued to thrash and sob violently. "Lo'ak, stop!" Dad yelled, fighting to keep him down. Apparently, he was stronger than either thought. Norm arrived quickly with a few others in tow. Kiri sat back on her knees in shock as Norm ran off with Dad bridal carrying her now passed-out brother. Fuck... maybe Eywa was cruel.

~

She wasn't. Kiri was walked home by Ronal, who'd obviously woken up when Lo'ak screamed. "It is fine. The baby had long woken me anyway," But Kiri wasn't sure. Ronal had her baby, a daughter, a little after a month after Neteyam died. She'd called her Roa, in honour of her spirit sister. Ronal had walked her home and insisted she stay to watch Tuk while Mom flew off after Dad and Lo'ak. Kiri paced anxiously and restlessly for hours. At one point, Ronal had snapped at her to stop pacing and sit. But she couldn't.

It took an entire day for either of her parents to return. "Dad!" She gasped quietly. Tuk was asleep, and Kiri didn't want to wake her. "He's fine. Or... he will be," Kiri sighed in relief. "Can I see him?" She asked. Dad hesitated. "Go. I will watch Tuk," And off they went. Kiri ran ahead, desperate to reach her brother and see if he was ok for herself. She burst into the lab, snatching a mask on the way. She ignored everyone who called, intent on finding him. Her mom stepped out of a room just as she came up to it. "Daughter, mawey!" Mom grabbed her shoulders. "No! Let me see him!" She fought against her mom's strength.

"Kiri?"

She pushed her mom away and ran in. "Oh, you're ok," She whispered as she collapsed by his bed. Lo'ak was pale, the palest she'd seen him. He had a mask tightly over his mouth and nose, along with a whole smattering of wires and lines. A massive white bandage was across his middle, and judging by the small blood stain on his right side, it covered the surgical opening. "Hey," He whispered. "Hey yourself," She whispered back. By now her mom and dad were probably by the door, but she didn't bother turning. "I thought I'd lost you," She whispered tearfully. He grasped her arm as firmly as he could. "Nah... I-I've got way too much annoying to do," He said slowly. She could tell talking to her was sapping his little strength, so she took a seat on the chair by his side. "Sleep, brother," She said softly. "Stay?" He murmered, already halfway to sleep. "Always," She whispered back.